#i can see orym joining dorian after this is all over.....

[stay-funky-ponyboy]

You know I loved the idea of Dorian and Orym becoming the new leaders of the Silken Squall but.. I don't want it to happen because of this :(

[codeopod]

The Hells dispersed into their tent and began dropping all their gear near respective beds and taking shots from the bottles Ashton managed to scavenge. Weariness and heartbreak had begun to give way to a delirious happiness at seeing their old friend return.

“Dorian! There’s someone else you have to meet!” Laudna flourished excitedly, “Oh Pâté!” She called.

Just over her shoulder a creature popped into existence, wobbling and flapping the bat-like wings that barely kept it aloft. “Yes mum watcha’ need?”

Dorian was taken aback. “Oh my god! He’s alive? He’s real? That’s a real-thing?!”

“Oh ‘ello Dory! ’s been a while.” The bird skull turned to address him.

“Dorian. It certainly has, wow, did you get…bigger?”

“He’s a bit bigger, yeah.” Imogen added, dropping her head over Laudnas shoulder.

“Oh an’ these two!” Pâté flapped out to turn and gesture at them. “They finally forked the meat pie-if you know what I mean-“

“Pâté! You crude little pest.”

“-‘ey lock me in ma’ house at night now, gets awful scary with the noises ‘ey-“

Laudna brought her hands together like she was swatting a bug midair and Pâté yelped as his form squisheed and burst into black goo. “That’s quite enough of that.”

“Oh, well-I, congratulations you two, if I am understanding his…way with words…correctly?”

“We’re datin’ yeah.” Imogen couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s wonderful! Honestly I thought you’d been secretly together this whole time.”

“You’re not the first to say that, actually.”

“I also have a wolf in my chest! Would you like to meet him?” Laudna bounced excitedly towards Dorian, who scrambled backwards.

“A what?! I-um sure?”

Dorian watched helplessly as a massive wolf literally burst out of Laudna’s chest. He held his bladder but took several steps back to keep his shoes free of ichor. “Oh, wow-you weren’t kidding, that is a very large dog.”

The thing was half rotten and only really had fur along its head and spine. Ghostly glowing mist drifted around it and seeped from the gapping wounds in its side. It gnashed its teeth as it turned to look at him. It’s eyes glowed a sickly green that was almost hypnotizing, only breaking away when Imogen whistled and it bounded happily over to sit at her heel.

“That’s a good boy.” She cooed and rubbed at his ears.

Laudna echoed his praises. “His name is Caviar, isn’t he gorgeous?”

“He certainly…suits your style!”

Orym joined them then, watching Dorians expressions carefully. “Guys, maybe let’s save some excitement for the morning?”

“Rest does sound nice, though I may not sleep.” Dorian admitted his face darkening, “…not after seeing that!” He tried to spin it as a joke but Orym’s frown deepened.

“You can bunk with me -and Fearne- if you want?”

“…I will admit, I have missed our cuddle piles.” Dorian smiled softly. The two men stared at eachother for an extended moment while Imogen and Laudna looked between them.

Laudna snickered but Imogen’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she pressed into Laudna’s side. “Well then, are you ready for bed, baby?” She purred just loud enough to be overheard. “We can leave the boys to their…cuddlin’.”

Dorian choked out a cough, his cheeks darkening. Laudna melted, twirling her hair around a finger and smiling a dopey grin. “We can have our own cuddle pile.”

“Of course.” Imogen grinned before rocking up on her toes and pulling Laudna into a soft kiss. The hound at their side jumped to his feet and did an excited twirl, tail wagging as his master sighed happily.

“I-uh- we should just-“ Dorian sputtered. Orym resisted an eye roll but smiled fondly at the pair. “Yeah, let’s go find Fearne.”

“I heard we’re kissing?” Fearne popped up behind them with a wine bottle in her hand. “It’s about time!”

Orym groaned into his hands, face heating.

[cringefaecompilation]

i hate the "dorian is going to join ludinus to spite the gods for taking away his friends" concept so much. i could just reblog that one post that says "people criticizing the gods does not mean they support the vanguard" and call it a day but this is part of a worrying trend of villainizing the cast members of color who don't support the gods wholly. even within the hells not everyone is devout.

ashton? literally said they refuse to worship the gods, period. that if they want his help they can ask him themselves. imogen? her guilty conscience towards the concept of killing her mother and her own sorrow at being neglected by the gods makes her also uncertain if she trusts them fully. laudna? is seen as inherently evil by every paladin in a five-mile radius because she’s undead. and if predathos takes a big munch out of vecna’s face, delilah’ll shit herself and die and free her from her grasp permanently.

and yet they all desire ludinus’ head on a stake and do not trust the vanguard nor believe what they are doing is right.

do i think orym and dorian are going to butt heads over their viewpoints on the gods? naturally! it’d be weird if they didn’t! but i just cannot see a universe in which dorian storm would backstab the surviving people he cares about over spite. he’s angry, he’s hurting, but he’s not going to trust a genocider. neither would deanna or FRIDA despite their compunctions and questionings.

honesty, the person i’m scared of getting corrupted by the vanguard is dariax. cults specifically go after people that feel isolated or lost, and dariax just got abandoned by all of his friends after a god pushed them apart. poor guy is a perfect pawn if ludinus ever stumbled across him.

[likeshipsonthesea]

nameless

The tavern’s near empty when Dorian and Orym get downstairs. It’s early enough that Dorian’s listing against the wall just to remain upright--early enough that Fearne opted to stay in bed rather than join them, immediately rolling over to bask in the warm spots they left in their wake. Dorian’s wondering idly if she had the right idea of it, as last night’s drinking catches up to him with the sounds of the beginning day rattling around in his head like an out-of-tune lute.

Orym, seemingly unbothered by a hangover or the early hour, looks up at Dorian and says, “I’m gonna go see about breakfast, if you wanna find us a table?”

Dorian nods, his cheek sliding against the wall as he does.

Orym’s mouth pulls up at one corner in his usual fond smile. He pats the side of Dorian’s thigh. “You can nap once you find a seat, yeah?”

Dorian sighs, pulling his head from the wall to nod this time, and they split as Orym heads back towards the kitchens while Dorian turns towards the tables.

It’s then he realizes that the near part of near-empty is due to one table near the front door, occupied by a single person--a single familiar person.

Laudna.

Dorian straightens up, checking his eyes for any crusts, smoothing out his robes--you know, just making himself presentable--and walks over. “Good morning,” he says, with as much cheer as he can muster before the sun is fully risen.

Laudna looks up from her half-eaten plate and immediately gives Dorian her wide-eyed grin that scared him in the beginning, but has become familiar over the half-week they’ve known each other. “Good morning!” she says, in her lilting, sing-song voice. Dorian must not be able to hide his wince because she frowns awkwardly and says, “Sorry--I forget people don’t like noise after drinking too much.”

Dorian waves off her apologies, settling himself into the booth opposite her. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, and then, curious, “You don’t get hangovers?”

Laudna shrugs. “Apparently when you’re sort-of dead you aren’t affected by alcohol the same way.”

“Huh. That’s a nice--perk.” Dorian winces at his own words immediately--like there’s perks to being dead--but Laudna seems to take it well and grins once again, nodding jerkily.

“It is!” Silence settles for a few moments before Laudna starts looking around, as if in search of something. Apparently not finding what she seeks, she looks back to Dorian. “Where are your other two?”

Something in Dorian’s chest flutters at the phrasing. Your other two. Yours. He’s sure his cheeks have turned some sort of lilac. He pillows his face in his hands in an attempt to hide it. “Fearne’s sleeping in, and Orym’s getting us food.”

Laudna hums and sips her drink. It leaves a slight residue on her upper lip that she licks away when she’s finished. “You three seem quite close,” she says. With her free hand, she starts thrumming her fingers against the table in a line, pointer to pinkie, rhythmic. “You’re all from such different places, but you and Fearne are helping Orym with his big task.” Her head tilts at an almost unnatural angle, which on anyone else would be terrifying, but apparently just seems to be something Laudna does unconsciously. “Pardon my asking without the proper beverage but, what the fuck is up with that?”

Dorian’s cheeks must be full-on purple at this point. “We’re friends,” he says, so defensively he doesn’t even believe himself. “We’re friends,” he says again, in a regular tone. “Like you and Imogen.”

Laudna’s eyebrows rise almost too high. “Like me and Imogen?”

Dorian takes a second to realize that he doesn’t actually know exactly what Laudna and Imogene’s relationship is and backtracks, shaking his head. “That’s a bad--we’re just--we are--”

Words don’t usually come easy to Dorian--outside of lyrics, that is. Music makes sense to him in a way Common and Marquesian--and even Primordial, as intrinsic as it is--just don’t. The three of them--they are soaring melodies, a medley of pieces that don’t appear like they should work together, but when played, make sense of something you hadn’t known you were confused by. The three of them are a steady rhythm, one that is safe, one you can try a improvisation to and know that even if a wrong note comes out, it will catch you and keep guiding you along to where you were meant to be going. They are the trilling laugh of a flute, the slow twang of a lute, all the best parts of music, made physical.

They are Dorian’s, and even better, he is theirs.

“We’re us,” Dorian says, because he doesn’t know any words that would work beyond that. Family--is a complicated word. Friends seems insufficient. Loves of his life seems so dramatic, even if it feels the closest to true. “We’re us,” he repeats, and when he looks up at Laudna, expecting the same frustration at his poor answers as last night, he just finds her smiling. Not too wide, just--soft.

“How lovely,” she says, and Dorian is pretty sure it’s not sarcastic even if it sounds like it is.

Dorian finds himself smiling back. “Yeah,” he nods, “it is.”

Orym arrives then with their food, and he greets Laudna and they talk about plans for the day while Dorian eats quietly, Orym pressed to his side and intermittently slipping him extra pieces of bacon seemingly without thought. The others come down eventually too--Laudna stands to let Imogen into the booth, putting herself between the slowly filling tavern and Imogen. FCG comes down with Fearne, Ashton trailing them somewhat later, communicating only with grunts until they’ve finished their first ale.

Dorian stays quiet--it’s early, and sometimes he finds it difficult to speak up in such large groups--but as he enjoys the dawning day and watches the people around him--Fearne and Ashton engaging in a game where they apparently try to steal as much silverware as possible without being found out, Orym and Imogen discussing some book Dorian’s never heard of, FCG and Laudna grinning too wide at one another through a conversation Dorian can’t make heads or tails of--Dorian lets himself be content with this new, nameless group of people he can see himself loving just as he loved the last nameless group.

For now, who needs to put a name to it? They’re them. For now, they’re his, and he’s theirs, and that’s all that really needs to be said.

[sunlitanon]

Finnicky

This is sort of more of a character study than anything else. By the events of Pillbug, Fearne has a pretty solid idea of where Orym's boundaries are and a 100% certainty that if you overstep them, you'll know. I just think he's sort of like a finnicky housecat that only lets you pet them every third Sunday, you know? Also I haven't watched Exu yet, so I hope I didn't mischaracterise their time with the Crownkeepers too terribly!

The first time Fearne tries to tickle Orym, he just sort of goes boneless.

It had been a long day of travel by the time they piled into the inn, exhausted but unharmed aside from a couple scrapes on Orym, who’d been swiped at by a bear of all things. When Dorian, Dariax and Opal had gone downstairs looking to get drunk, there had been a few transient moments where Fearne and Orym were alone in the room, and she had looked across at the dark circles under his eyes and really wanted to make him smile.

Fearne goes down to join the others, later, leaving Orym tucked in bed to sleep off the day. She takes with her the newly discovered knowledge that Orym can giggle. __

Another day, they’re walking through the forest. Orym’s got his face buried in a map that he can’t open all the way out even with his full armspan and Fearne sidles up next to him. There’s a little crease between his eyebrows; she can see the shadow of it over his whole face, like he’s suddenly an old man.

She sneaks one free hand down to pinch at his side and then he is just. Gone, in what seems like the space between one breath and another.

He’s just darted over to the front of the group, Fearne finds after a single, stunned second, but so fast and so smoothly that the others don’t even seem to have noticed anything happened. He shoots a quick, evaluating look back at her before turning back to the map, and then in a moment he clears his throat and starts talking about shortcuts.

__

One night by the campfire, while Opal is play-wrestling with Orym, tickling a little to distract him and because Opal thinks it’s terribly funny to make him squirm, she calls for backup “to hold him down so I can really get him.” Orym disengages in a second, putting a few feet between them, and actually draws a weapon from his belt.

It’s a little theatrical, Fearne thinks, but after that none of them ever tries to hold him down in a way he can’t slip out of.

__

After another quiet moment where Orym flops over like a fish the second Fearne gets her hands on him, and another where he pulls his disappearing act, and actually softens at Fearne’s pout and says “Not today, okay Fearnie?”, she’s starting to put together a theory.

__

“’…already thirty, Dorian,” Orym is saying as Fearne walks into the inn room, a day or two out of Zephrah.

Dorian catches her in the corner of his eye and grins. “I’m just saying, look at Fearne,” he says, in the kind of persuasive voice he can only use when there are no stakes, “Fearne’s 180. And no wrinkles! Do you know why?”

“Because she’s fey, Dorian.” If she didn’t know her boys so well, she mightn’t have been able to hear the edge of laughter creeping up below Orym’s patient, flat tone.

“It’s because she doesn’t crease her face by frowning all the time!” Dorian says, and then he giggles, which sort of undermines whatever he’s doing here. “Fearne agrees with me, don’t you Fearne?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Fearne says, not entirely sure what she’s agreeing to, except that they’re ganging up on Orym and it’ll make him look at her like—oh yes, just like that. Perfect.

Orym scoffs, turning away from them so they can’t see him twist his mouth against a proper smile, or so he thinks.

“You’re so grumpy, Orym,” Fearne says, and drops herself onto the bed next to him. “I think I know how to put some smile lines onto that face, though.” And with that she tries to wrestle him onto her lap, and Orym—who could out-wrestle her any day—just lets her with only token resistance, wriggling a little in her arms.

“Don’t suppose I have a say in the matter?” he asks, and Fearne can’t see his face from this angle—that’s a problem, she’ll have to move him—but he already sounds like he’s about to laugh, and she hasn’t done anything yet.  

In one quick movement she shoves him back off her lap, flat against the mattress with her palms flat and firm against his shoulders and blinking a little in surprise.

“You always have a say, Orym,” she says, and this way is much better. From this vantage point she can see the wheels turning in his head, the way his eyes sweep across the room and weigh up her simmering excitement, Dorian’s fond amusement even as he puts his hands up, refusing to intervene in one way or another.

After a moment’s wry, thoughtful silence, he says, “Don’t say I never do anything for you,” and Fearne goes straight for his ribs.

[samuraiko]

For your vignette could you write the hells going to the silken squall and seeing Dorian forced to be brontë by his parents?

Poor Dorian...

"Meeting the Parents"

As the Bells Hells approached the dining hall of the Wyvernwind Estate within the Silken Squall, Dorian sighed and ran his hands over his face.

"Gods, I really don't like the idea of this."

"But Dorian, we've been dying to meet your parents for such a long time," Laudna consoled him, resting one hand on his arm. "Or... is it that you're... embarrassed by us?"

"No, no, no!" he protested earnestly. "Believe me, if I'm going to be embarrassed by anyone, it'll be my parents, not all of you."

"You did tell them we were coming, right?" Orym asked so that only Dorian could hear him, and the air genasi nodded.

"Oh indeed... dropping in unannounced would not have gone over well. But if I can please ask all of you a favour..." His gaze met each of the Hells, one by one. "Please treat them with respect. Unlike a lot of nobles, they have actually earned it, and for all their pomp and circumstance, they do a lot of good here in Marquet."

"But not your brother, right?" Chetney growled. "Because that one is dumber than a box of rocks, and YES I'M AWARE YOU'RE STANDING RIGHT THERE, CYRUS, YOU WERE MEANT TO HEAR THAT."

Cyrus hung his head, but Dorian wrapped one arm around his brother's shoulders.

"You should at least be polite to him in front of my parents."

Chetney grumbled but nodded. "Fine. But if they're not in earshot, you're still gonna get an earful from me."

Fearne was busy primping her long curls. "All right, how do I look?"

"Lovely as always," Imogen told her. "Wait, hold still, one of your ribbons is tangled up with your staff. There."

Dorian visibly squared his shoulders, and then led the Bells Hells into the large silk-draped chamber. "Mother... Father... thank you for so cordially extending an invitation to my companions to dine with us this evening."

"Of course, Bronte," Lady Wyvernwind cooed. "After all, it is quite advantageous of a nobleman of your standing to make acquaintances from all social strata." Her eyes flitted over the group, and all of the Hells could feel themselves being assessed from head to foot. "Now, I think introductions are in order?"

"Of course. Allow me to introduce my dear friends, Fearne Calloway-"

Fearne curtsied gracefully and smiled her most winning smile at Lord and Lady Wyvernwind.

"-and Orym of the Air Ashari."

Orym stepped forward and bowed deeply, first to Lord Wyvernwind and then to Lady Wyvernwind, and when he straightened, he was holding a small bouquet of magnolia blossoms, which he extended to Lady Wyvernwind with a shy smile.

"A pleasure, ma'am. And thank you for your hospitality."

"Next, we have Chetney Pock O'Pea..."

Chetney cleared his throat and did his best to imitate Orym's bow. "Honoured to meet the both of you."

"Imogen Temult..."

Imogen managed a briefer version of Fearne's curtsey. "Pleasure, my lord... my lady."

"Ashton Greymoore..."

The barbarian also cleared his throat and nodded his head respectfully to Dorian's parents.

"Fresh Cut Grass..."

The automaton cheerfully bobbed his head at the Wyvernwinds. "Smiley day to ya!"

"And Laudna..."

"It is SUCH a pleasure," Laudna gushed.

"Indeed," Lord Wyvernwind said slowly, his eyes also taking in the Hells with cautious interest. "And Cyrus... this is truly a night for celebration if both our wayward sons have returned home, and in such... colourful company."

Dorian winced, and Orym discreetly patted him on the arm. "Yes, well..."

"To your companions, I offer my greetings. Welcome to the Wyvernwind Estate, here in the Silken Squall. My lady wife and I are delighted you could join us for an evening repast. Please be seated and make yourselves comfortable."

There was some slight jockeying at the table regarding seating arrangements, with Cyrus sitting to his father's right, and Dorian to his mother's left. Orym made a point of sitting next to Dorian, Chetney sat next to Cyrus, and the rest of the Hells sat down as well.

"We've arranged quite the 'welcome home' dinner for you, our sons," Lord Wyvernwind began, and both of his sons cringed ever so slightly.

"And we're... grateful, Father." Dorian quickly glanced at the Bells Hells and mouthed, Eight courses. Brace yourselves.

For the rest of the Hells, it was fascinating to watch Dorian doing a remarkably good job of imitating his parents' elegant and proper demeanor, steering the conversation, complimenting his parents, praising his friends, asking about the family business. They had become so used to the slightly awkward, stammering, self-conscious bard that it was almost like they were two different people. But to Orym, at least, he could see how Dorian had matured during their travels together, and had gained the confidence of knowing he had legitimately earned the respect of others.

In a way, it made Orym sad... he had grown to like that self-conscious, vulnerable side of Dorian. But if truth be told, he was proud of his friend.

"So, tell me, Bronte... with such charming lady friends within your circle..." Lady Wyvernwind's voice trailed off as her eyes went from Fearne to Laudna to Imogen.

Dorian went bright red and he barely managed to avoid choking on his wine. "Oh... no, no, Mother, we're all just friends."

Imogen, Laudna, and Fearne all immediately began talking over one another to agree with Dorian, while Chetney and Ashton both grinned, and Fresh Cut Grass just watched in fascination.

Orym quietly sipped at his wine and did his best to keep his feelings off his face. He suspected that Dorian's statement wasn't entirely true, but now was not the time to bring that up. Dorian had enough to deal with as it was.

[chaos-burst]

If you’re still doing them Doriax handholding prompt #3 cold hands in warm hands??? 🥺 Air genasi with cold hands and a certain warm hearted warm handed dwarf sorcerer 🥺

When their hands brush for the first time, Dariax takes Dorian by surprise. He grabs Dorian's hand and holds it up.

"Man, your fingers are like icicles, buddy", he says and looks at Dorian's fingers as if he can find what's wrong with him just by looking at Dorian's hand.

Dariax' fingers are calloused and very warm. Dorian's heart skips a few beats before restarting with doubled speed.

"Don't worry about that, it's normal for—"

"I got you, buddy", Dariax says and before Dorian can say anything else Dariax intertwines their fingers and keeps holding onto his hand as they walk. Dorian stares down at their joined hands and then up at Dariax' face.

Dariax seems unconcerned.

"Uh—Dariax?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

"Warming up your hands. It's no big deal, I run really hot, you know. It's the dwarven hardiness, blood of the mountain and all that. We can switch sides in a bit so I can get your other hand too."

Dorian catches Orym's slight smile as they're walking and he clears his throat while his body keeps going crazy. There is a tingling sensation spreading through his body from the point where their hands are touching and Dorian has trouble to concentrate on where he's walking because his mind is so occupied by the feeling of holding Dariax' hand.

People who see them walking like this will assume that they are a couple.

Dorian's face feels hot.

After twenty minutes of internal turmoil Dariax lets go of his hand.

"Side switch!", he proclaims loudly and destroys Dorian's hope of getting back to normal as he saunters over to Dorian's other side and grabs his other hand.

"Oh, this one isn't as cold!", Dariax says.

"Uh—yeah. I'm. I'm feeling pretty warm", he rasps. Opal snorts from a few steps behind them.

"Awesome, then my plan worked", Dariax says, obviously pleased with himself. Dorian hopes that his face isn't as purple as it feels.

It takes him a few seconds to realize that, despite his hands not being as cold anymore now, Dariax doesn't let go.

[elementalladymallorie]

So now we round out our flowers for the Bells Hells with one Chetney Pock O'Pea!

So for Chetney I've picked the Amaryllis and Lupine flowers.

The Amaryllis flower is a bold flower with a big bloom. It can symbolize Pride and Strength.

Chetney has a lot of pride in his work. He's shown that with how he talks about the craft he's honed, and it's not uncommon for pride to come in once you've become accomplished in a craft. Chetney's also got a lot of strength, both physically and mentally. He's a pretty good heavy hitter, and, while he's struggled with it at times, he's managed to keep a decent handle on his werewolf half. He was also able to figure out what Yu was really after, and he can keep a clear head when he needs to.

Amaryllis also mean Determination and red ones can mean Passion.

Amaryllis grow tall despite being a winter bloom. Chetney, like the rest of the Bells, is determined to meet his goals. He's doggedly trying to find connections and information on Oltgar for whatever his end goal there is. Chetney is a passionate man. He throws himself into his work, his fights, and it seems his relationships. He's not the most restrained with some of his actions but he does give everything.

Another fun fact of Amaryllis is that they are often given as Christmas gifts.

The next flower is Lupine! Now these flowers are associated with wolves, so a bit of a cheat with a werewolf character. Now Lupine can symbolize Creativity and Generosity!

Chetney is a Master Craftsman. You have to be creative for that, plus just look at the ideas he's had for the gifts he's made the Bells! Each of them is unique to the person he's made them for. That leads into generosity. He was willing to make toys for 7 practical strangers at that point. He also wants things to be sold at a fair price, not over but probably not under either. I wouldn't find it hard to believe that the man would make someone a comfort toy/item with no costs.

Lupines also mean Renewal and Kindness.

Lupines were originally thought to steal nutrients from the ground and other plants before it was discovered that they add nitrogen to the soil instead. Chetney joined the party not long after they lost a friend. The others were suspicious of Chetney and his intentions, but eventually he's become an important part of the group. It's a renewal in a sense, but also fits in with the the idea of lupines. Chetney is kind. He doesn't always come off like that, but he is. He goes after Cyrus after saying he doesn't care, he apologizes to Orym immediately after hurting him, he pays for a spa trip as an apology, and each gift he's made is chosen to be so personal for each person.

So we are at the end of the Bell's Hells! A long road but so far some wonderful flowers I think! I've been toying around with maybe visiting them all again later, when we see how these characters change. To compare how they've grown.

I am wondering though, should I do Dorian? Would people like to see more of these? Also should I add images to these? Like a banner or just one image of each flower? I'd like to hear thoughts if anyone would like to share!

(Laudna), (FCG), (Orym), (Ashton), (Fearne), (Imogen), (Laudna pt.2)

[poesparakeet-fics]

Deals with Fey

Fandom: Critical Role C3

Characters: Orym of the Air Ashari, Fearne Calloway

WC: 700ish

Summary: Just a short, cuddly little thing to crack the egg that is C3 for Critickle role fic! (Tickle Fic) Who knew it could get so cold in the desert?

To be fair, Orym wasn't sure the whole desert was like this. The city certainly hadn't been, but that could have been all types of magic. Here in the low, rocky mountains where they were searching for one particular cavern among hundreds, though, the air was sharp and chill.

It's why he was glad to be curled beneath Fearn's thick mink cloak, nestled against the curve of her softly furred lap and stomach.Either because she was fey or because she was Fearne, she hadn't even asked before scooping him in with her. It took a full minute for his shivers to subside.

"Thanks." He sighed when she ducked her head underneath the covers to join him.

"Oh, it's no problem. You fit so nicely. I always worry that you little ones will freeze right through in this weather, and you're a much better cuddle buddy than Letters is."

She folded her arms over him, so he rubbed his hands across her skin so they could both warm up. "Yeah, I imagine they’re pretty cold."

"Mhmm…" Fearne sighed, hugging him tighter, "there is that. But also…"

Orym choked on a startled giggle that he mercilessly smothered with one hand as Fearne hugged his shins to her chest and started to tickle his feet with nails as hard as hooves.

"Fearne!" He tried to yell enough to get his ire across but whisper enough not to alert the others. "Don't-- ha!-- don't you dare--"

Fearne just snorted at him. "Oh, I think I do dare. Tickle tickle Orym…"

He didn't get a chance to reply thanks to a concentrated attack on the ball of one foot that sent him into a fit he had to use all his strength to smother, his back arching into Fearn's thigh. Which was the point, of course. This was Fearne's special little game, ever since the first time she'd playfully picked him up under his armpits and he'd squealed. She would creep up on him in his quiet, pensive moments in a dark little corner away from the others and tickle him to pieces while he fought to stay quiet, sure that his chaotic friends would find endless amusement in sending him into hysterics. They were only mortal after all, and as Fearne liked to remind him, halfling giggles were irresistible.

Fearn hadn't played her game since this new group had formed. At least Dariax wasn't with them anymore. Orym had a feeling he could take Dorian, but shuddered at the thought of Laudna's long nails. The thought of being tickled in front of a mind reader? Unconscionable.

So he kept his hands clapped hard over his mouth and wriggled like a fish in Fearne's embrace, unable to do much else without exposing himself to the terrible cold outside their cocoon.

He endured that way for about a minute, until her fingers found his toes and he cried, muffled, into his arm "Mean! You're so-- so m--eeheeheehee-ean!"

"Aw." Fearne pouted sympathetically, "Is my little buddy too ticklish? Do you want me to stop tickling your toes?"

"Yes!" Orym cried, still muffled, tears of laughter springing to his eyes. (And a blush springing to his cheeks at the stray thought of Imogen calling out how he really felt about Fearne's little game. Unconscionable.)

"Well..." Fearne spoke softly and calmly, her voice like satin, "maybe if you tell me something about yourself that's it your name and the fact that you're from the air Ashari, I can stop tickling your feet. We're friends, I want to know more about you."

That's it? "OK!" Orym giggled, "OK! Fearne, please!"

She stopped, but didn't move her fingers one inch.

"Well?"

Orym gulped in a couple of breaths, then paused for a panicked moment as he tried to remember a single fact about himself.

"M-my mother's name was Calista and my Father's was Eutar?"

"Oh, that's very good," Fearn soothed, letting go of her grip on his ankles, "See? Sharing is good."

Orym was about to agree when her arms stretched to claw playfully at his ribcage and he was cackling into his sleeve again. The new shot of adrenaline made him spot his mistake immediately.

"Oh Orym," Fearne teased as she tickled him silly, without once touching his feet, "hasn't anyone ever taught you that you shouldn't make deals with the fey?"

[amazingmsme]

Hey! Feel free to ignore but I would LOVE to here your opinions on Dorian and Orym or your T-word HCs for them! 💜

I could never ignore you, I just take forever to answer lol. But I LOVE THEM SO MUCH! When will Dorian come back, I need my kind soft boi🥺

I shall give you both!

I think they’re literally perfect for each other & I presume it’s gonna be a long ass slow burn before anything happens. I’m behind on critical role cause I’ve been at my parents, but I’m on the third episode of calamity & then once I catch up on campaign 3 I’m gonna finish exandria unlimited cause I really wanna know more about them. & the chemistry they have is so good! Now, let’s crack into it

-I like to think Dorian is the most ticklish out of the 2 (probably out of the whole party let’s be real)

-Orym is the perfect height to casually squeeze Dorian’s hip or scribble behind his knees when they’re just standing side by side. He always spasms when he does this & a surprised shriek escapes

-Orym is surprisingly teasy when it comes to his friends, especially when he has a crush on one of them! He points out how much he’s blushing, how cute & funny his laugh sounds, how ticklish he is, anything is fair game

-he always gets this absolutely smitten look whenever he’s tickling Dorian. The most dazzling heart eyes you’ve ever seen!

-Dorian is very physically affectionate & will give Orym quick squeezes, pokes, or scribbles in passing whenever he’s in a good mood & wants to share it!

-he’s pretty shy & has to psych himself up before trying to attack Orym. He can always tell when he’s going to attack but let’s it happen & acts like it caught him off guard

-Orym makes sure to check in on how he’s doing when tickling him & tends to use softer touches

-Dorian doesn’t care, Orym is cheeky & mean in his own way & he looks way too cute when he’s laughing & squirming around for him to show mercy

-they have tickle fights all the time! Orym usually starts them because he has a lot of pent up energy & it’s as close to sparring as he’ll get with Dorian. Or he’s dying to see him all breathless & flustered. Dorian starts them whenever he’s feeling mischievous or when he gets homesick

-Dorian’s worst spots are probably his neck/ears, ribs, sides, & knees. Orym’s are his underarms, feet, & tummy

-I know a real, canon first kiss will probably happen at some point, but until that day they have their first kiss when Dorian is tickling him to get him to stop. They both freeze & are both blushing like mad. They’re each profusely apologizing while confessing their feelings

-when the others wreck Dorian, Orym always assesses the situation to see if he should help him, or help wreck him.

-if Dorian sees Orym getting wrecked by the others he doesn’t even hesitate to join in on the fun! He gets all giddy & wants to play around with his friends

-the roles are split pretty even between the 2 & on any given day either one of them could be the lee

-Orym uses tactics & the element of surprise when he goes after him. He has small nimble fingers & fast reflexes & can switch spots really quick & fit in the places you try to protect (armpits when you slam your arms down, neck when you scrunch up, behind the knee when your legs are bent, etc.)

-Dorian normally sticks to one spot at a time before moving on to the next. He’s got these long slender fingers that are so skilled & dexterous from playing the lute, & they’re just a little bit calloused. He takes his time in taking you apart. (I just know Dorian has such pretty hands, ok? I think it’s important you know he has really nice, soft hands. He could be a hand model)

-Dorian can’t say the t-word, he’s just too flustered. It makes him really embarrassed & stutters over himself & he blushes whenever someone else says it

These are all I got right now. I fucking love these boys, I need more fluff with them!

[theoldgaylion]

For the doriax prompts 👀 "seeking each others hands while sleeping" or "dancing together".

Whichever sounds more fun :))

Read it on ao3

"That was kind of Mr. Gilmore to invite us, don't you think?" Fearne asked in her usual hushed tone as she finished braiding Opal's long silky hair, who was sitting on a velvety dormeuse adorned with golden details and attentively following her movements.

"Especially after the troubles we caused him." Orym gloomily mused as he leant against the wall next to where the faun and the girl stood, one hand reflexively resting on his hip as if ready to act on whatever upcoming threat, despite not carrying any kind of weapons on his person.

Sitting, too, but in a little, uncomfortable armchair, though as luxurious as the dormeuse, in the farthest corner of the room, was Dorian. As he was trying to not have a panic attack and thus ruin everybody's feisty mood, he barely registered his friends chatting in the background. He was overwhelmed, the rooms and the main hall outside brimmed with people, from enriched nobles to foreign merchants to powerful wizards, and that feeling of inadequacy struck him as fiercely as ever. Although the possibilities were close to none, he was also afraid to come across his relatives, whether distant or not. He didn't want to meet them, he didn't want his friends to meet them, not when he left that life behind his back.

His mind was spiraling as he stared at a blank spot outside the wide window on the opposite wall, nervously twisting his fingers.

"Free food and alcohol are always appreciated." Dariax commented somewhere near his right, he could see him in his peripheral vision as he stubbornly tried to keep his unruly tuft behind his ear with poor results, standing in front of a wall length mirror, his tongue sticking out between his lips and his brow furrowed in concentration.

"We really owe him a gift, though." the halfling sighed and Fearne giggled amusedly as she wrapped a beautiful, bright pink ribbon around the end of Opal's braid.

"Maybe next time we're on an adventure, we can bring something back for him." she suggested, her face lighting up as a soft smile curled up her lips.

"That's a good idea. But!" and the girl stood up from the dormeuse before declaring, hands on her hips and chest puffing out, "But now we must party and enjoy free alcohol and food, as our winged boy here suggested.".

"Yes!" the dwarf exclaimed and winked at her through the mirror, before returning to his previous task.

"Hey, do you need a hand with that?" Opal asked him as she walked over to his side. "I have some wax that'd do the work." she wiggled her eyebrows as she fished out a vial out of her high-heeled opalescent boots.

Dariax gasped as he eyed the vial, then nodded. "You're a lifesaver." he thanked her before Opal uncorked the vial and let him get some wax to do his hair properly.

The genasi jumped a little in his seat when Fearne craned her neck to look him in the eyes, then heaved out a relieved breath. He didn't even hear her approach, so lost in his thoughts as he was.

"Sorry, I didn't want to scare you, Dorian, but I was wondering…" she tapped her lower lip with a finger as she studied him. "Would you like a ponytail, perhaps? You'd look great in it." she smiled down at him as she unwrapped another ribbon from her own hair.

Dorian blinked in confusion, caught by surprise, before his gaze bounced back and forth between Fearne and the ribbon she was now holding.

"W-why not?" the genasi accepted in a weak tone as he shrugged his shoulders.

Fearne just chuckled at that, then waited for him to scoot forward with the armchair before positioning herself behind him. First, she began brushing and carding his hair with her fingers, letting some loose strands down to frame his sharp features. Afterwards, she carefully gathered lock by lock in her hands before lifting them up at the top of Dorian's head.

"You and Opal have the most beautiful hair, so soft." she admitted, her voice cheerful as she proceeded to secure the ponytail with the ribbon, and Dorian skeptically glanced at her, or tried to at that weird angle. Not that he didn't trust her friend's opinion, but it really never occurred to him before.

Fearne's milky white organza gown rustled softly as she clopped right in front of Dorian. "One last detail." she explained when Dorian frowned at her, not understanding why the faun was vigorously rubbing her palms, a sly grin playing on her lips as sparks of fire flickered at the friction.

Dorian was getting anxious, but that feeling was short lived, leaving room for wonder as soon as realization clicked in. Fearne's hands moved to the sides of his face, then curled the loose strands with her heated fingers and Dorian noticed that it wasn't hot at all. Magic was truly something.

Once she was finished, the faun clapped her hands, satisfied with her work. "You look amazing, my friend." she assured him, her smile softening.

"Wow." a raspy whisper caught Dorian's attention before he could reply to that and he darted his eyes in the direction of it, to his right. Dariax was watching him mouth agape and cheeks flushed, and Dorian wasn't even sure the dwarf was aware he was doing that in all honesty.

Dorian turned incredibly frustrated under that scrutiny and fidgeted in his seat as a suffocating heat spread across chest and down his belly.

"Go look for yourself." Fearne prompted him to stand up with a gentle pat on his shoulder.

Dorian slowly rose up on shaky legs and moved to stand before the wall length mirror. Okay, maybe he should've trusted his friends more, because he looked fine as fuck. He never considered himself a vain person, but, as he stared at his own reflection now, he must've admitted that that outfit highlighted his best body traits, starting with the dark blue high-waisted lace pants he was wearing, not much see-through per se but open to the sides in two slits and with incorporated shorts that ran down to his mid thighs. On his upper body, the loose peach gold chiffon top that wrapped at his middle in a silver waistband with some rhinestones and left his chest exposed, the massive flowy sleeves clung at his sides and made him look so dreamy. At his feet, his beloved winged boots.

Opal helped him with his makeup earlier but he had the chance to evaluate her work just then. She used a silver eyeliner on his eyelids, the ends as sharp as her knives, while she dusted some moonshine highlighter on his cheekbones, the tip of his nose, his pecs and under his eyebrows, following their natural curve.

After a long time spent admiring himself, he felt very observed and turned his head towards Fearne, who was still looking at him, her hands clasped together against her cheek as she smiled merrily like a mother proud of her son.

"Thank you, Fearne. It looks amazing." he told her in an earnest tone.

The faun chuckled delightedly in response, before stifling a snort as her eyes glanced away from him and Dorian quirked one eyebrow at that. Then, he heard frantic fumbling and a loud snap. He spun around and found the dwarf still there, yet turned a little to his side as if he was trying to hide something, his mouth was pressed in a thin line now while tips of his ears were as red as his face as he busied himself with the laces of his vest. Dorian didn't know what to do with that notion.

Once they were all ready, the group finally exited the room, walked down the hallway and crossed the threshold of the dance hall, just to immediately get lost among the swirling of robes and skirts and cloaks, the colorful reflections of the flames that shimmered down from big crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, the chattering of voices that mixed with the soft music playing in the air, the tables full of delicacies.

That combination of visuals, sounds and smells rendered the five speechless.

"Okay, this may be a little too for us." Dariax murmured to the group after a pregnant pause, his lips pursed to the side hidden behind his hand. And the genasi couldn't agree more.

"We've been lucky that Mr. Gilmore warned us and let us go on a shopping trip before coming here." Orym pointed out as his keen eyes studied the surroundings, feeling even smaller than he was already.

"Yeah, but, I feel underdressed all the same." Opal whined in a pout, crossing her arms on her chest. "And I'm wearing a fuckin dress." she added as she ran her hands down on her big puffy tulle skirt.

“Where's the wine?" the faun asked out of the blue as she looked around, her ears eagerly perking up, and the group laughed.

"Hey, look, there's Fy'ra!" Opal exclaimed as she pointed with her index finger at her, who was already in the company of Shaun Gilmore himself and a man who presumably was his husband by the way he was circling his waist with one arm.

Orym scolded her about her manners, or lack of, but his words hardly affected her since she was trotting to Fy'ra, Fearne following suit.

He sighed hopelessly, before joining them together with Dorian and Dariax.

They all greeted and complimented each other for their attires, everyone but Orym immediately falling for Gilmore's charme once again and his husband laughed whole-heartedly at their behavior, saying that he fully understood them.

As much as he really wanted to blend in and forget about his previous worries, Dorian felt anxious and uncomfortable, also regretting his choice of outfit for the night since it would've certainly drawn attention to himself, but now it was too late, he would've dealt with it.

His current mood must've been as clear as the empty glass Gilmore was holding in his hand because he noticed Dariax sliding closer to him at some point while the rest of his friends were chatting amicably, and tilting his head up to look at him.

"You okay there, bud?" he asked him in a lower tone, his warm hues regarding him with concern.

Dorian wanted to lie, although it would've been useless. The dwarf could be... slow on the uptake sometimes, that was true, but he always understood when his friends were troubled and that was one of the things he liked the most about him, he was kind and thoughtful and cared dearly for the people he held close to his heart.

So, the genasi shook his head and bit the inner part of his cheek.

Dariax’s mouth twisted in a sad grimace upon his non-committal reply. "Alrighty, let's go grab some food, yeah?" he proposed, nudging him playfully on the thigh while showing a toothy smile.

Dorian quickly warned Orym before walking away with the dwarf to find something to eat among the many, almost too many set tables.

Dorian's uneasiness gradually dissipated thanks to the dwarf's presence. Since that moment he stayed with him the whole time, trying to draw a smile out of him and the genasi really appreciated his efforts.

The two were now standing at a table with any type of meat Dorian could imagine, Dariax was trying his hard to catch a chicken leg with a fork but it kept rolling and rolling and squishing away as oily and dripping with sauce as it was, so he gave up in the end and grabbed it by the bone. Dorian wanted to be grossed out by that, but honestly after what they've been through in the last months that was the least disgusting thing the dwarf had done involving food, or anything else really.

The genasi had to admit that Dariax really stood out in those clothes. As if he was just seeing him for the first time that night, he ranked him up and down with his gaze, taking advantage of his current distraction. The dwarf had chose a white blouse with puffed sleeves and flounce collar, his broad shoulders emphasized by.. now that he took a better look at it, Dorian noticed that it wasn't a vest, more like a corset garment that made him waist look slimmer, the velvety burgundy texture complementing his auburn hair while the golden embroideries on the hems made him look princely, somehow. On his lower half, he wore black tight trousers with a detachable wrap pleated skirt on its left side, at his feet a simple pair of dark brown leather boots.

Dariax was so… dashing.

"Want some?" the dwarf's voice brought him back to the present and Dorian felt himself blush guiltily upon being caught staring so openly. Or maybe Dariax didn't notice him at all, too focused on eating his well-earned chicken leg. The genasi really hoped it was the latter.

"Uhm, no. Actually, I'm not that hungry." he admitted in a sigh and saw Dariax's joyful mood shift a bit. Even though the dwarf was helping him a lot, anxiety was still swirling in his stomach, clutching at it, making him feel nauseous.

"But if you don't eat, you can't drink." Dariax reasoned, his half smirk slotting back on his face, and those words earned him an amused snort from Dorian. As if that ever stopped the dwarf, or anyone in their group, from getting smashed, yet Dorian knew what he was trying to do and was grateful for his patience and consistency.

"I know, but I don't think I can drink either, sorry." the genasi admitted, another sigh falling from his lips, and Dariax gazed up at him, slowly lowering the chicken leg.

Clearing his throat, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then his free hand reached out for Dorian's and that gesture made his heart skip a bit, or a few.

"I don't know what you're going through, but I think we should enjoy ourselves tonight, we deserve some funny time, don't we?" the dwarf squeezed his hand oh-so-gently as his eyes bored into his as he spoke. "You should enjoy yourself, relax, unwind, relieve some stress." another squeeze of hand and Dorian's heart quivered in his chest. "Nothing's gonna happen, and in any case, I'm here for you. You got a healer in heels next to you." he winked at him as he tapped one boot's heel against the other.

Dorian's whole face was flushed deep purple by the end of his speech and, albeit his frantic heartbeat echoing in his head, he nodded and smiled down at him. The dwarf's hand was so warm around his and his mind quickly drifted back to all those time they slept together on his bed roll, so close yet so far, as Dorian wanted to touch him and hold him and-

Dorian shook his head vehemently and swallowed around a lump in his throat.

At that distance, Dorian noticed that there was eyeshadow on Dariax's eyelids, smudged, of the color of charcoal, in strict contrast to the amber of his hues, making them shine even brighter under the lights of the chandeliers. In the inner part of the eye, a glint of gold that recalled his corset, while a bronze highlighter gleamed on his cheeks. Opal must've done his makeup, too.

The genasi found himself staring at Dariax a lot that night, clearly unable to stop himself as if magnetically drawn to him.

"And honestly, you're really missing out because this stuff is delicious. I don't know when another banquet like this will happen to us in the near future." Dariax added a few moments later, emphasizing his words by swinging the chicken leg he was still holding.

Dorian heaved out a breathy chuckle, rolling his eyes at the ceiling, more for the sake of tearing his gaze away from him than being actually annoyed by what he just told him. "Alright, you got me. No more convincing." he gave up in the end as he picked a clean plate and a fork, before wandering around the table with his look.

"That's my man!" Dariax grinned victoriously, then joined him in the food hunt.

As simple as it was, that praise made Dorian’s chest fill with warmth and affection.

"Thank you, buddy. You're amazing." the genasi said after a while, his voice soft now, and shot a glance at his side to catch Dariax's cheeks turning as red as his corset as he murmured something under his breath that Dorian couldn't quite catch. In that moment, he realized it was the second time that he inadvertently made the dwarf blush and he stopped in his movements as that thought crossed his mind. What did that mean?

Anyway, the two kept circling around the table while chatting and, since Dorian's stomach finally loosened up, he was able to eat something, too. When the genasi lifted his head in a heartfelt fit of laughter after that Dariax told one of his dumb jokes about the turkey wearing socks, his attention was caught by Opal who stood some feet away at another table, watching them with a cocky grin and an arched eyebrow.

His laughter quickly ended up in an awkward coughing as he blushed from his neck to the tips of his ears and the fact that Dariax hurriedly came to his help didn't help his situation. At all.

Two glasses of wine later that embarrassing accident, glasses that Dorian gulped down like a drowning man in the desert, eventually they split up because Dariax decided it was the right time to go and grab some stronger alcohol that wasn't just wine; in the meantime, Dorian found interest in the instruments the band was playing. Despite his eagerness, the dwarf didn't leave him until Dorian assured him he was feeling better so he could go without worrying about him.

When Dorian noticed that it was taking the dwarf a little too long to get their drinks, he searched for him with his eyes, just to find him standing between two individuals, who possibly were courting him if he didn't mistaken the way they both leaned close to him, offering him drinks as they smiled flirty down at him.

He felt a strange pang of.. jealousy awfully twisting his guts as his jaw tensed at that sight.

"Are you going to ask him or not?" Opal's face suddenly appeared in front of his eyes.

Blanking out for a solid second, Dorian almost choked on his own tongue. "W-what?!" he cried in a shrill voice and immediately slapped a hand on his mouth.

The girl sighed deeply as she slowly shook her head in disappointment.

"To dance." Fearne replied from his other side on Opal's behalf and Dorian felt suddenly very cornered. "I bet he's dying to. Waiting for you to make a move. Can't you tell?" she tipped her head in a quizzical way as she eyed him.

The genasi's gaze frantically darted back and forth between the two. "I-I don't think that-" he then started babbling out, anxiety coming back at full force, but Opal cut him short with a huffy tsch.

"Please, you two have been circling around this for months, honestly. Now it's your chance to go get it." the girl pointed out as she nudged him with her hip and Dorian's heart started hammering erratically against his ribcage. What were they talking about just now?!

"Get what?!" he croaked out in a squeal and the faun's laugh only made him more miserable than he already felt.

Opal loudly gasped at that question as if she couldn't believe what she just heard. "Dorian, how oblivious can you be?!" she looked like she was that close to rip her own hair off her head for desperation or to choke him with her bare hands in an act of mercy and the genasi thought that he really didn't want to find out.

Thankfully, Fearne intervened once again. As she grabbed Opal's hand to soothe her outburst of anger, she smiled her benevolent smile at Dorian. "Dariax's been over the heels for you for like.. well, pretty much since we met I think?" she confessed in a pensive frown, then had to stifle an amused giggle when Dorian's mouth slacked open.

His head was spinning dizzily as his heart jumped up in his throat, his hands were shaking as he brought one of them to scratch at his neck in a foolish attempt to calm his nerves. He was pretty much freaking out at that point, he'd never actually noticed anything that-

Wait.

Oh gods.

"I'm a fucking idiot!" he yelled as he smacked both his hands on his forehead, and the two girls tried to not make fun of him, just to fail miserably.

"Now that you're caught up, do yourself a favor and <i>go</i>." and with Opal's words ringing in his ears, he was being pushed by Fearne and the girl herself toward the dwarf, still at the same table.

And suddenly, he was in the middle of the dance hall, his knees wobbling as his heart was trying so desperately to break free from his chest. He wanted to hide. He felt.. irremediably stupid. How could he be so blind?!

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. In retrospect, above all the things that had happened between them in the past months, Dorian realized that the dwarf had been looking at him the whole night with such a look in his eyes, something deeper concealed behind his usual fondness that he reserved for his friends.

He was getting itchy. If he wanted to act, he needed to do it now.

Mustering every ounce of courage he had in his body, the genasi walked the last steps that separated him from Dariax at last.

He cleared his throat way too loudly to be spontaneous, interrupting whatever was happening between the dwarf and those two strangers. He didn't even spare them a single glance as he stared at Dariax, who was visibly surprised by his antics.

Dorian straightened up, before bowing a little with his upper body, his left arm folded behind, as he outstretched his other, unsteady hand towards him.

"Dariax, m-may I have this dance?" the genasi asked in a solemn voice that cracked a little at the end, feeling heat rising up on his cheeks the longer he hoped for an answer. He gulped as a bead of sweat glided down his temple, his heart beating so fast right now that Dorian felt like it could stop at any moment.

And Dariax was looking at him like he held the entire world in his hands and the genasi felt himself burn from the inside out under that intensity, his hazel hues gone wide and round in complete shock, his thick eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

There was a moment of terrible, utter silence. Then, the dwarf let go of his drink, which fell and spilled on the floor, and that noise made a few heads turn in their direction while the two individuals jumped back from him. But Dorian couldn't care less as Dariax's trembling hand clutched tight around his as a happy, dazzling smile bloomed on his lips.

"Of course." he replied in a whisper, hesitant yet fast, like he'd been waiting for that question all night but couldn't believe he just got asked.

Fingers intertwined, they sauntered over the center of the dance hall to stand in front of each other like the rest of the people didn't exist.

Dorian's yearning turned out to be pretty much useless since Dariax shared his feelings and he could plainly see it now, written all over the dwarf's face as he hadn't stopped beaming up at him since he accepted his invite.

The genasi had never danced with someone that much shorter than him, or had much experience with balls in general, but they would've managed nonetheless.

They were holding hands, both their arms stretched outward in the liminal space between them as they looked into each other's eyes, full of emotions. Dorian thought he was going to faint here and there from how tense he felt, he was anxious for a totally different reason now.

Then, their feet started moving on their own and the music grew louder and louder, their bodies following the rhythm as they met halfway, their hands locking in the right positions as much as their heights would allow.

"I didn't know you could dance." Dorian said, genuinely delighted by that discovery, as they turned and spinned, completely lost in the music, in each other.

Dariax chuckled, his cheeks flushing again upon that compliment and the genasi had to stop himself from acting on the thoughts that image elicited in his mind. "Me neither." the dwarf admitted as he shrugged his shoulders.

Dorian snorted amusedly, before tightening his grasp on Dariax.

They kept waltzing, staring at each other, smiling brightly, moving freely. They kept waltzing, fingertips brushing on clothes, hands grasping, wanting for more. They kept waltzing, their looks promising.

And Dorian never felt so happy in his life.

[peach-the-owl]

59+72 with Fearne where reader is also a druid and Fearne is their mentor in a sense and while the crew is out and about the nameless ones jump them and hurt the kid pretty badly but it ends in fluff! Tyy

I love Fearne, she can be so soft yet so threatening all at once and I love it. Hope you like this 😁

Dangerous Curiosity

Fearne & Child!Reader

59- You shouldn’t have gone by yourself, 72- Just keep breathing.

You, like Fearne, came from the Feywild, and you’ve been traveling and learning from her since you both came through to the material plane. Now Fearne herself still had plenty to learn but she had more years and experience compared to you so she still taught you all that she knew. Here you now were in Emon, with a group of friends and a strange gap in your memories, trying to place together the missing pieces of time and being careful with each step as a group known as the Nameless Ones was now after you. You all were currently in search of the famous Gilmore’s Glorious Goods, in hopes of finding the famed Runechild and helping to decipher the strange rune from the lovingly named Ash-hole. While the others were either working on a distraction or gaining information you were looking around the marketplace, taking in the busy street life and shops when something catches your eye. A flash of light shines across your vision and trails off down a side street, no one else seemed to pay mind or care about it but you were curious, it looked magical so you thought it could be helpful. With Fearne and the others occupied you didn't want to bother them and wonder off on your own after the mystery light, one little fire elemental did watch as you wander away and takes it upon himself to follow.

You follow after the light like a moth to a flame your curiosity to this thing being your drive forward, unknowingly leading you farther from the crowds until it disappears all together and you look up to realize your mistake. A cloaked figure stood before you, similar to the ones you'd encountered from the warehouse and unexpectedly on the streets not too long after. They start towards you and immediately you turn to retreat only to see a second one step out and block your path, essentially sandwiching you between them.

"Don’t worry kid, if you cooperate we won’t hurt ya." One of the figures say, something in your gut told you they were lying to you and you cower away, you weren’t the most equipped for battle but you had to do something. They were closing in on you so you quickly cast Entangle and make a break for it in the direction you’d first come from, not bothering to look and just hoping they were caught in your spell. Unfortunately you don’t make it very far before you’re yanked back and dangling in both individuals grip, you struggle but both Nameless Ones hold firm. Now in a panic you cast Produce Flame and grab hold of them, letting the fire around your hands burn them. They cry in pain and loosen their grip but not enough to free you completely, only further angering them as a searing pain enters your side followed by another harsh stab and you collapse to the ground, giving a yelp of pain and clutching your injury. Blood trickled out of your wound, covering your cloths and hands as you held onto it, a puddle quickly started to form around you. You really regret not having learned any healing spells now as the world spun around you and every attempt at movement lead to more pain, there’s a sudden feeling of gentle hands placing themselves on you, making you flinch slightly.

"Oh (y/n), you shouldn’t have gone by yourself. Why didn’t you say anything?" You hear Fearne's voice, filled with concern. Your ears flatten against you as you curl into yourself more and let out a small whimper. Her hands brush back your hair, the flow of some healing magic working through you to help ease the pain away before you hear her speak again. "It’ll be okay, just keep breathing, I’ll take care of this."

Fearne stands and turns to the two Nameless Ones. "I don’t like what did." She says in a calm even voice as she steps in front of you.

"You have something we want, and we’re not leaving without it."

"Oh no, you misunderstand. You’ve hurt my kid, very badly. I’m not negotiating, I’m going to kill you now." Her voice, still as sweet as ever somehow made her threat even more unsettling. You see fire ignite in her hands a she continues to step forward, Mister hops off her shoulder and let’s out a screech as he too ignites. You close your eyes and look away, focusing on your breathing like Fearne had told you to, drawing in deep breaths through your nose and exhaling through your mouth. Your ears pick up the sound of more footsteps joining the fight and another soothing dose of healing magic courses through you, and when you peek your eyes open you see Dariax looking down at you with a smile.

"Sup kid, you feel all good now?" He asks, his spunky attitude hide traces of concern but you give him a smile and a nod, in return he gives you a thumbs up and jumps into the fray of battle to help finish the job on the two Nameless Ones. Pushing yourself up into a sitting position you look over at everyone, seeing the battle had been won. Fearne trots over to you and picks you up into her arms, Mister also coming up and cuddling you a bit making you smile and hug the fire monkey.

"Are you okay?" Fearne looks at you with worry, her ears drooping a little.

"I think I’m okay now, Dariax helped me feel better." You say with a nod.

"Okay," she perks up just a little. "Why would you go off by yourself though?"

"I was curious and you were having a lot of fun playing music, I didn’t want to ruin that." You explain. "How did you know where I was?" You tilt your head at her in wondering.

"Little Mister came running to me distressed, I knew something was wrong and when I couldn’t see you I was even more worried something bad happened, he lead me to you." It was Fearne's turn to explain to you, you look over at Mister who had perched himself back onto Fearne's shoulder.

"Thank you Mister." You give him a smile and he gives you a happy screech. Fearne finally sets you down, letting you stand on your own two feet again and you both walk back over to the others.

"Oh yay, (y/n)'s all better!" Opal happily exclaims. "Now we can go to Gilmore’s shop, right Nancy?" She says looking over at Orym who gives her a blank stare but nods regardless.

"You’re defiantly going to need a new outfit." Dorian points out to your still blood soaked cloths. With that you all turn and start making your way towards the shop, you stop for a second and tug Fearne’s dress to gain her attention. She looks down at you curiously and you motion with your hands for her to kneel down, when she does you give her a hug and place your forehead against hers.

"Thank you for being an awesome teacher and saving me." You say with sincerity. She smiles and returns your gesture, using Druidcraft to place a few flowers into your hair.

"You’re welcome my little sweet pea." She says with just as much sincerity.

[saphirered]

Heyyy! Long time to talk. I hope you’re enjoying your summer. I have a question about how you take requests: how specific do you like them? I saw you’re writing for EXU and I already live Orym. I would just like something soft yet funny, but I can request something specific if you’d like? Lmk 💜 thanks

-🐋

Heya! Summer's great. Hope you're enjoying yours. Requests can be as specific or nonspecific as you want them to be. As long as I know which character(s) I'm writing for and have an outline of what you want like you've done here I'm all good! Thank you for requesting and I hope this one's to your liking! 😘

Word had reached you a group of strangers had made it to the settlement of the Fire Ashari outside of Emon, among them the Air Ashari you’d been waiting for. He may have never been to Emon before but you’d met the halfling many times before in Zephrah. You’d spent plenty of time with the Air Ashari in your years but now finally, Orym got the pleasure of experiencing your humble outpost life out here himself. Well, that was the plan anyway. Sometimes plans go down the drain.

When Orym finds out several firetamers were absolutely obliterated leaving only two survivors; clearly not counting you among those two he feared for your wellbeing but much like the Ashari training provided and interactions, one must be in control of their emotions especially in these dire times. Someone would have informed him if you’d suffered an ill fate, right? He hopes so. You had been called back to the Flamereach Outpost months ago because things were spiking up and that did mean you’d be in the thick of it. All hands on deck, hence your premature separation back in Zephrah. 

Orym feels wrong to say but he couldn’t be more thankful for that earthquake. Seeing you running head first into unknown danger might not do good on his stress levels but knowing you’re alive, that’s all he needs for now. Not like he and his friends don’t run into danger straight after you. On to the Oh No Plateau.

In the aftermath you were the one to escort this little group of strangers plus Orym back to the outpost. They were already a little worse for wear not used to, deal with or resistant to the ash, dust and poisonous gases, the firetamers unanimously decided it’s best to help these folks down instead of letting them find their own way. You of course volunteered to take on this task and no one was going to object as they got enough from this group to know they’re trouble. Rather you than them.

Taking the lead you answered some of their questions. You have to admit the mentions of the ‘ash-hole’ broke you enough to send you into a laughing fit. The dwarf, Dariax felt quite accomplished as these folks, your folks seem a bit more rigid and reserved, much like Orym in his opinion so it’s good to see not all of them are stuck ups.

Fearne nudged Orym on with a little push in your direction causing him to stumble. You’re dextrous enough to prevent the halfling from bumping into you possibly causing you to fall with him. Instead you catch him before he falls flat on his face. The look the two of you share does not go unnoticed by the faun and is very much revealing in the closer-than-friends kind of way.

Once conferred with Lorkathar they’re left to their own devices and the shitstorm of questions thrown at Orym to figure out who you are; or to some of them more importantly; who you are to him specifically. Orym tries to answer without giving too much of your own personal life away. It’s your life, not his and he doesn’t feel like he that’s his to share with others.

You met him in Zephrah on your journey to learn more, better your druidic skills. Part of this training was physical combat and weapons training. That’s where you grew closer. You weren’t exactly the greatest with a sword and Orym helped you go through training to where you could settle on a spear. Cue the questions about what other physical training you shared with him. Orym did not dignify that with a response. Really any question answered that lead to yet another innuendo made he did not dignify with a response.

There’s a knock on the door the group had been given to recover from the day’s events. The conversation falls silent as another knock raps lightly on the door. Dariax and Opal make eye contact before both rushing towards the door, the pleasure of answering going to whomever gets there first. They’re not sure but they hope its you. They have so little insight in the details of Orym’s life and they’re not going to let the chance fly to get some leverage on the halfling should they need to bring it up in the future if they want to commit another definitely-not-a-crime.

A white haired human dressed in pinks opens the door with a wide smile radiating mischief. You smile back although a little forced, to cover the confusion trying to peak through.

“Hi! You must be the firetamer Orym has told us all about. It’s so nice to meet you. I am Opal.” She grabs your hand and shakes it and you just let it happen. How the hell did Orym get sucked up in this group? They’re worse than you’d thought over your initial encounter. Not in a bad way just a… different one.

“Likewise. It seems like you have me at a disadvantage. You appear to know about me yet I do not know much about you. I don’t mean to be rude but I am looking for Orym, of the Air Ashari…” You exchange pleasantries but are cut off as the woman looks over her shoulder.

“Orym! Orym! Your lover is here to see you!” She screeches for the halfling who was already a few feet behind her, embarrassed this is how you’re properly reunited without the pressure of your respective lives.

“Hey.” Orym smiles through the embarrassment caused by his friends watching the two of you like some sort of play waiting what the characters will do next.

“Hey.” You smile back trying to not put too much mind to the curious company Orym had found himself in. You feel like the more attention you give them, the slimmer your chances at a calm and quiet moment with Orym will become.

“Well, don’t be rude, Orym. Invite your friend in.” Dorian perks up trying to keep the obvious ulterior motives of Opal and Dariax at bay but you weren’t born yesterday.

“I was thinking maybe we could step outside instead? I wouldn’t want to disturb your friends’ evening.” Orym catches on to your intent.

“Yeah. Yeah of course.” He brushes past Opal outside and grabs your hand practically begging you to lead the way before the others decide to keep you here.

“Enjoy your evening.” Fearne, saves your asses before the others can protests. Orym is glad to have the faun on his side and he’s pretty sure this favour granted puts him in her debt but it’ll have been worth it.

“It was nice seeing you all. I’m sure we’ll have more time to grow better acquainted in the future.”

“Have fun on your evening stroll, Orym!” Dariax wiggles his eyebrows and the halfling sends him a look to shut him up as you begin leading him away.

The sun is not yet set casting the outpost and mesa in an orange glow with the view of the city west of you. It’s a beautiful evening. Orym understands why you like sunsets so much. You bask in the rays of ember, a sight Orym hadn’t seen in too long. He hadn’t realised how much he missed this, how much he missed you. You stop at the side of a stone ruined building. You let go of Orym’s hand as you grab onto any footing you can and scale the building onto the roof. It’s only two floors tall so you lean over the edge and look down at Orym.

Getting the memo Orym climbs up following a similar path you had to reach the top. You lay down on the rooftop with a familiar comfort, as if the world’s concerns were left below. Orym had always admired this about you. It’s something he could never do himself. You turn over on your stomach, lean your elbows on the rooftop, head on your hands with a grin as you cross your legs behind you. He knows that look.

“So how does it feel being the most responsible individual among the chaos?” Orym pulls himself onto the rooftop and gives you a look. As he walks over to you he hooks his leg around your elbow and yanks making you lose your balance. You gasp and roll back over to your back supporting yourself on your elbows.

“Rude!” You laugh as Orym sits down next to you. Shoulders leaning against each other you watch the sunset. It’s a habit you had fallen into in Zephrah and it’s a habit picked back up again even after many months apart.

“I missed you.” Orym presses a kiss to the top of your shoulder.

“Missed you too.” You sigh content you’re back together once more, no matter how brief that might be as Orym and his little group of adventurers has been sent on another task to find Gilmore. You’d join if you could but you have your responsibilities here and Orym knows that like no other. Once this is all behind you things can finally go back to normal and you actually get to spend more time together without the world burning down whenever you turn your back.

“So how is it you of all people end up with this bunch of chaos bringers?” You laugh. You may not know his friends personally nor did you have much to go off in your brief interactions with them but you know well enough they’re trouble and chaos magnets. Orym, having an air of peace and calm around him shifts quickly to panic in stressful situations he doesn’t know how to navigate based on instinct and here he is navigating Emon of all places with them, getting involved in all sorts of conflict.

“Me of all people?” Orym feigns offence but he’s well aware you’re right. He’s not even sure himself how this weird little dynamic they have going works. He gives it a thought.

“Maybe I just naturally gravitate towards chaos. You are a testament of that.” Your jaw drops. Your halfling’s found himself with a new kind of boldness to him previously hidden beneath layers of Ashari customs. He may not realise it just yet himself but these people have a good effect on him.

“Are you calling me chaotic, Orym of the Air Ashari?”

“I’m sorry, but you really expect me to answer that question? You are chaos incarnate.” He laughs and you let yourself drop back, the halfling previously leaning his weight against you loses his balance and falls onto your stomach. You put your hands beneath your head watching the orange glow reflected off the clouds with a smile.

“You know what, I will take that as a compliment. Someone needs to bring a little chaos into your life. I’m glad I’m not the only one able to fulfil that task. They seem like good people.”

“They stole a vestige, broke into places and killed the henchmen of some criminal organisation all within the past twenty four hours.” Orym deadpans. He’s still a tad unsure how to feel about it.

“And you went along with it. Maybe one day you’ll be as much as a chaos incarnate as the rest of us.” Orym’s fingers lace with yours as he holds onto your hand.

“It’ll be the day the elemental chaos seeps through into this world.”

“Who says it doesn’t already. Embrace the chaos, Orym.” You wave your free hand making a cloud of embers appear above you like fireflies and make them dance in the wind. He’s already embraced the chaos and he knows it. It started with you but has extended to his new friends as well. Though, he’ll have to admit, he’ll take your chaos over theirs any day if presented with the choice. No matter. He’ll take any moment with you he can get now and be patient until you’re reunited in the future. There’s still adventures to be had, just for now your paths diverge. They’ll reconnect in the nearby future. He’s sure of it. You’re sure of it.