#oryn

[thehayhaylstorm]

Posting the Jaheira and Minsc stickers soon on Etsy and here which completes the whole companion set! :)

Here’s what I have in mind for the remainder bg3 stickers unless someone has another idea that I should add:

Oryn

Gortash

Ketharic

Dragonborn durge? (I’m really bad at drawing Dragonborn but willing to try again!)

Damon

Rolan (and maybe his siblings)

Mizora

Cazador

Ascended Astarion

Withers

God Gale?

Once I finish the bg3 set I’ll likely move into a Pokémon set or a magical girl set

[name-centrum]

Name of the day...

Orrin ˎˊ˗

⋆｡˚ . ⋆｡˚ . ⋆｡˚ .

Origin: British, Irish, Celtic

Meaning: River; Green; Mountain; Pale, fair or white.

Notes: The name Orrin is a masculine name that is "an Anglicized form of the Irish/Celtic name Odhrán." (Source)

"Across many traditions, rivers symbolize journeys and the incredible force of nature. It could be a reminder of inner strength, setting your little one off into the world to carve their own path through the world." (Source)

Alternative spellings of the name are Orin, Orinn, Orryn, Oryn, Orynn, Orren, Oren, and Oran.

Other names similar to Orrin are Arrin, Arwin, and Orwin.

Nick-names: Orry, Ryn, Ry

Popularity:

[storageforerealtastuff]

Eeeyyy Music boy)

Oryn ♉️

You can read my webcomic here

[morrigan-sims]

Royal Horses

@morningstarequestrian's new Baroque Tack Set is absolutely perfect for tacking up the horses from my story save. (which I've been neglecting for the past year+) (Other pieces are from the Medieval Tack Set or the Medieval Round Bridle. The first outfits are from @objuct's Traditional Arabian Set, plus one of my recolors of that set.)

(also obligatory tagging @simgerale because Phillip pics.)

The first two outfits are something I could see being like, a parade outfit, at least for Alena. (Kristopher wouldn't be involved in any parades back in Oryn, I just wanted to test out all my cc.) Especially the version with the tassels isn't practical for just recreational riding, but it certainly looks nice for a parade, and does resemble parade-type outfits.

Alena's 2nd-3rd outfits and Phillip's 2nd-4th outfits are just more general-purpose riding. Two different saddles each and a few different saddle pads for Phillip.

Phillip's 5th outfit and Alena's 4th and 5th are potentially more of long-distance setups. Maybe like some kind of tour, where Fallon would be riding for long distances, but still want to look formal / be seen by people. (Again, not really something Kristopher and Phillip would have been doing, but it looked good on him and I wanted to test stuff out.) Alena has a second variation because technically white isn't one of Anvia's royal colors, but black is, so if it was a public event, she might tack in black. Especially as that would show less wear and dirt than the white for long travel.

The last pic is a blanket for Phillip because it gets cold in Oryn, especially in the winter and late fall/early spring. Alena doesn't really need a blanket most of the time, since Anvia's winters are much milder. (They don't often get snow, and when they do it's rarely more than an inch or two at a time.)

[screechingfromthevoid]

Orym growing his hair out while Dorians gone because he's not really taking care of himself makes for an EXCELLENT gay hair cutting fic

[feral-renaissance-cat]

Oh I get it now

They've divided into Team "Could Potentially Turn on the Others at the Drop of a Hat" and Team "The Worst That Could Happen to Me Has Already Happened".

[sleepybabybees]

Some shadow company ones- ft my 2 Ocs Oryn and Eskell (may make a post about them later-)

--

Oryn: Ah shit, I forgot.

Graves: Forgot what?

Oryn: How do you expect me to answer that?

--

Eskell: Oh, my God. Do you know what this is?

Graves: It’s a book. There’s a lot of those in here, this is a library.

--

Oryn: I have one foot in the grave but in a kind of fun flirty way, the way one might slip on a fishnet stocking.

--

Oryn: Why would anyone want to harm Graves?

Eskell: Maybe because they met him?

--

Oryn: There's no way he likes me back.

Graves: Eskell would throw himself in front of a moving car for you.

Oryn: Eskell would throw himself in front of a moving car for fun.

--

Graves: Eskell, that’s disgusting. You’re only giving free stuff to beautiful people.

Oryn: Yeah, you should be ashamed of yourself.

Eskell: Oh yeah? *gets really close to Oryn* How about a muffin on the house baby?

Oryn, giggling: I’m pretty.

Graves: I hate it here-

--

Oryn: Come on, Graves. Nobody actually believes that Eskell is in love with me.

Graves, to The Squad: Raise your hand if you think that Eskell is helplessly in love with Oryn.

*Everyone raises their hand*

Oryn: Eskell, put your hand down.

--

Graves: I dare you to kiss the next person who walks into this room.

Oryn: Screw that, I’m not kissing any of you.

*Eskell walks in*

Oryn: Fine, I’ll do it. Rules are rules you know.

--

Soap: Hey, what have you two been up to?

Ghost: We were helping Oryn write their vows, but they kicked us out because Graves was making inappropriate suggestions.

Graves: How is “Eskell, I love your sweet ass” inappropriate?

Soap: this is why I tried to blow him up in a tank.

--

Graves: Hey, what have you two been doing?

Oryn: we were helping Soap with their wedding vows and we were kicked out of their house for making it inappropriate.

Eskell: How is “Nice ass, Ghost” inappropriate?

Graves: not everyone needs to hear soap mention ghosts ass in his vows, Moon.

Eskell: I would-

Oryn and graves: we know.

--

Eskell: Are we really going to let Ghost keep Soap?

Oryn: We kept Graves.

--

Graves as a child: I can’t wait to grow up and have cool adventures!

Graves now: I can’t wait to go to bed.

--

Graves: Legend says that when you can’t sleep, it means you’re awake in someone else’s dreams.

Graves: When I find out who you are, I’m going to punch you in the face.

--

Graves: You can de-escalate literally any situation by asking ‘are we about to kiss?’

Graves: Doesn't work with getting out of speeding tickets, though.

[gaymingbinosaur]

Rotten Luck

Note: J'rakko belongs to my best friend @dishonoredassassinfan and I'll post a link in the reblogs when I get it on ao3

Reyla couldn’t believe her luck. The gods must truly hate her for her to be in this situation.What should have been a simple heist, with bored guards looking after drunken nobles.  But guards were swarming the house, rumors swarmed Solitude that The Thieves Guild were planning on taking advantage of the same party she was.  And to make matters worse The Guild sent J’rakko.

Reyla didn’t bother to hide her eye roll as the black khajiit walked over.  “My favorite little fox! What a pleasant surprise!”

“Not now, J’rakko. I’m working.” 

“ Wonderful, J’rakko can help. Just like old times.”

“Are you FUCKING kidding me!?! What’s the cost? Do I need to sell my soul to Blackbriar for you to work with me?” 

“No, soul selling doesn’t happen until at least working with her for a week. C’mon it’s one night, it will be fun.” 

“You betrayed everything I believed in. I only steal to help people who need it. I am not helping you.” Reyla hissed.

“And so does J’rakko. J’rakko is very poor and always needs help.” J’rakko grinned at Reyla’s emotionless face before sighing.

“Listen, J’rakko can’t get into any private rooms, without his favorite little fox. Reyla won’t leave with a single septim if she does not get help. But if she teams up with the second best thief in Skyrim, we both may leave with something.”

Reyla sighed. A quick glance of the room and it’s clear none of the guards left, if anything more came. She swears that there are more guards than party goers. And to be honest J’rakko is being optimistic that even working together they would be able to pull this off.  But she can’t turn back, too many people are depending on her for their next meal. She has to try and use every resource, no matter how rage inducing that resource is. She glanced back at J’rakko, who was watching her silently as she made her decision.  She grabbed his paw before dragging his paw and dragged him for a dance. She hates the fact that she has to be in his arms again but she was not going to rob this place without a plan. And they can’t sit in some dark corner while guards watch them plan their heist. So they will blend in with the crowd and Reyla will just ignore how her heart still skips a beat when he wraps his arms around her. She can hate herself later, right now all that matters is this heist.

[tewwor-moving]

oryn being so stressed he goes bald -> oryn wearing wigs -> specifically one that looks like miku's......... all thanks to @lastcrush for making me realize the truest nature of his hair

[dont-touch-my-soup]

The tide is brave, but always retreats

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CW: captivity, manhandling, forced to perform, dissociation

“Again!”

Jinn flinched at the force of that single word. 

The large room was nearly silent. The five singers stood motionless. Waiting for the catastrophe that started to break in like a flood through a dyke. 

They were all well accustomed to Oryn’s habits and they knew it wouldn’t take much longer until someone would bleed. 

And apparently today that someone would be Jinn. 

Jinn swallowed but his mouth was so dry it didn’t do anything to help. 

A dull ache was throbbing right behind his temples and his eyes were burning. 

He just wanted to take a rest. Sit down. Drink some water. 

Frustration drew tears to his eyes, and he hastily blinked them away.

He wasn’t sure how long they were practising already but the sun had gone down at least five songs ago and Jinn’s legs could barely hold him up anymore. He just wanted to lie down and sleep. Sleep. Sleep. 

But he knew, even if he was allowed to, he wouldn’t find sleep anyway.

Sleep had always been a difficult task since he came here. 

But since Kell had vanished it felt impossible.

He dipped his head even lower as if he could somehow become invisible if he just tried hard enough. 

It was better to blend in and hold your breath until everything was over and hopefully, hopefully Oryn wouldn’t even look at you. 

It was a tactic Jinn had used a thousand times.

But this time it wouldn’t work because Oryn already had his full attention on him.

Robin next to him sighed quietly and mumbled something that definitely wasn’t meant to comfort him. Jinn could feel the hostility radiating from her. Somehow, he was glad he hadn’t caught the meaning of her words.

Jinn felt the gazes of the other singers like knives on his skin. 

Nobody said a word but still he could feel their anger and irritation pressing down on him. 

He carefully avoided looking at them, scared of what he would find there.

It wasn’t like they could do anything anyway. 

But somehow it still felt like betrayal. And maybe that was the worst in the end. 

But it was okay. 

It was not like they had a choice. 

And it really was Jinn’s fault. They all had to wait after an already exhausting day because he had screwed up. Jinn understood their anger. 

They were all just trying to survive.

And it was hard to survive without losing yourself. 

He didn’t want to lose himself.

But the longer he was here, the harder it got to keep pieces of himself. 

Oryn’s hand shot out so fast, Jinn didn’t have the time to flinch away. He grabbed him by his hair and harshly yanked his head back up.

“What are you waiting for?” His eyes pierced into Jinn’s.

“I-I-…” Jinn started without having words in his mind.

“Sing,” Oryn ordered gruffly.

It was an effort not to lower his eyes again. It was an effort to hold Oryn’s gaze.

He was withering under Oryn’s gaze like a flower in a desert.

Oryn stared at him; his lips tightly pressed together. It was the only visible sign for his anger, but Jinn knew him long enough to know that Oryn was on the brink of snapping. There was a quiet rage in the way he moved and something cold and unforgiving in his eyes. 

Somewhere deep down Jinn knew this couldn’t be all his fault. Oryn had already been angry when they started practice. But it was a useless thought. In the end it didn’t matter why Oryn was angry.

Nervously he nestled his sweaty fingers into the hem of his sleeves. 

His stomach was in knots and maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t had dinner yet.

He really had to concentrate. He had to do better. 

Jinn took a deep breath and buried the panic deep down in his gut. He forced his mouth to open and started to sing. 

His voice sounded foreign and small in his own ears. 

His heart sank but even a bad performance was better than disobeying.

He only came to the second verse when Oryn’s voice boomed through the rehearsal room. 

"No.'' 

Jinn fell silent and ducked his head between his shoulders. He could feel his whole body trembling.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. He was never supposed to end up here. 

“No, no, no!” Oryn’s voice was sharper than a whip. He shook his head and put one hand against his forehead as if he was getting a headache. 

Oryn sighed. “Are you even trying?”

“I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry,” Jinn whispered. He had to bite on the inside of his cheek to stop his mouth from jabbering. He didn’t know if Oryn heard him or not. His hands were shaking, and he gripped them together so hard it hurt.

Oryn snapped his fingers in the direction of a singer Jinn had barely seen before. He had to be new. “Your turn,” he commanded. 

The other one looked up with wide eyes. 

“Now,” Oryn snapped at him.

The other singer visibly swallowed. But when he started to sing, his voice didn’t quiver, didn’t break. He sang like he hadn’t been trapped here all day, forced to sing, and stand in the same spot for hours.

A tight knot formed in Jinn’s stomach. He was so much better than Jinn. It took Jinn a few moments to put a word on it. He was jealous. The realisation tasted bitter on his lips and he wished he could burn that feeling away.

Oryn turned to Jinn. “This is how it’s supposed to sound.”

“I-I am trying,” Jinn’s voice was barely a whisper. “I am-...”

“No,” Oryn interrupted him sharply. “You know very well that everyone here must earn their keep. And right now, I don’t think you deserve to be here.”

An icy feeling flooded through his veins. The words pulsated through his head and for a long moment they were mere letters before they started to fall into their places. 

He stared up at Oryn. Unable to speak. Unable to move.

His body felt heavy and numb like it wasn’t his anymore.

Oryn wouldn’t kill him just because he had one bad day, would he?

Oryn sighed. “Come here.” 

Dread dropped in Jinn’s stomach like a sack of flour. His legs suddenly felt like butter and Jinn was sure they would give way any second. 

His eyes darted to the open door. 

But he knew he would never even get out of the room. And then he would really be in trouble. 

Tears welled up in his eyes at the mere thought of it. 

He swallowed against the fear rising in his throat and looked back at Oryn. For just a second something in his statue-like face moved and Jinn wasn’t entirely sure if he had really seen the small smirk dancing over his lips or if he had just imagined it. As if Oryn had noticed Jinn’s gaze. As if he had read his thoughts. As if he wanted Jinn to try to run. 

It was enough for Jinn to force his legs in Oryn’s direction.

Slowly he set one foot in front of the other.

It felt like walking through water. His steps echoed through the room; everyone’s gazes heavy on his back. 

I am sorry, Jinn thought. He wasn’t good enough. And he’d never be good enough. He wasn’t like them. 

His fingers trembled and he pulled his sleeves over his hands to hide the movement.

Oryn snatched his elbow and dragged him closer. “You are wasting my time.” 

He emphasised every word and they rained down on Jinn like blows.

He wrenched Jinn’s hands out of the way as if he was just a puppet and put his own hand on his stomach. Jinn instinctively tried to step back, but Oryn caught his wrist and kept hold of him. His grip was tight enough to leave bruises, but Jinn didn’t dare make a sound. 

“You need to breathe here,” again Oryn pressed on his stomach and Jinn wanted nothing more than to recoil.

Jinn’s couldn’t think. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe.

It had been two days since Kell had vanished and the other singers acted like nothing had happened. 

It was always like that. People vanished and everyone else just kept going. 

Like the person never even had existed. They vanished and nothing was left of them. 

And Jinn knew, one day he would vanish too, and nobody would care about it. 

They would forget his name and his voice until it was like he’d never existed at all. 

Nobody would try to protect him. Nobody would try to get him back. Nobody would fight for him. Not anymore. 

Kell had tried to protect him. He had cared about him.

At least Jinn thought so. He wanted to believe in that. He had to believe in that. 

It had been two days. Two days without Kell. 

If he just knew what had happened. If he just knew where he was. If he just knew whether … whether he was unharmed.

Maybe he had managed to escape. Maybe that's why Oryn was so angry. 

It had to be. 

But a tiny voice inside of him wasn’t so sure.

He wouldn’t have left without him. 

Maybe there hadn’t been enough time to get him. Maybe Kell didn’t really care about him. Maybe it had all been a lie. They didn’t even know each other that well and Kell didn’t owe him anything. 

But Jinn had seen Kell’s face. He knew Kell cared. It wasn’t so much about Jinn; it was about who Kell was. He cared and maybe he cared too much for his own good. 

But maybe that was why he’d made it so long. 

He hadn’t lost himself yet. 

“Again,” Oryn ordered. “Don’t disappoint me.”

Jinn could feel tears prickle in his throat. His heart was sitting heavy in his stomach. Helplessly he lifted his arms just to put them back to his sides. Oryn’s hand on his stomach was an unyielding weight and it made Jinn claustrophobic. He knew how strong Oryn’s hands were. He remembered the bruises they had left on his body. 

He shuddered. 

They had healed. And Jinn had learned to do better. He had tried so hard to do whatever Oryn wanted but Oryn always found a new reason to punish him. 

He would never be perfect. He would never be enough.

Oryn was so close. Too close. Jinn could smell his perfume. He hated that smell. It was too rich, too sweet, drowning out every other smell. 

Oryn had rolled up his sleeves. Jinn had never seen him doing that. He was always dressed perfectly. He never had a wrinkle or a stain or rolled up sleeves. 

“What are you waiting for?”

Jinn took a deep breath. Panic rolled around in his gut like the ocean in a storm. He took another breath. Then he started to sing tentatively. 

He didn’t get far.

“Stop,” Oryn said. “Just stop.”

Jinn didn’t dare to open his mouth. He didn’t dare to move. He didn’t dare to breathe as Oryn paced through the room. It was so quiet Jinn was sure everyone could hear his heartbeat. 

Finally, Oryn stopped. “Get out,” he hissed. “Everyone, get out.”

The singers moved as fast as they could without running. 

Jinn only managed one step in the direction of the door, when Oryn’s hand wrapped around his shoulder. 

“Not you.”

All hope poured from Jinn as he watched the last singers file out. He dropped his gaze down to his shoes as their footsteps faded. He didn’t move as if his life depended on it.

And maybe it did.

“Come with me. I will teach you how to breathe.”

Thank you for reading! @whumpzone @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @whump-cravings @tears-and-lilies @imagination1reality0 @suspicious-whumping-egg @i-can-even-burn-salad @siren-of-agony @villainsvictim (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!)    

_______________________________________

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[tewwor-aaa]

✧･ﾟ open | mutuals & non-mutuals ･ﾟ✧

Ideally, Oryn could go about the day without making his presence known. All of the miracles his charge experienced from time to time should be seen as just that – a simple miracle. Not as the doings of some otherworldly force. So the key, he had quickly concluded, was to not be seen. To be heard or felt was something he could work with, but to be seen was basically game fucking over for him.

That was always easier said than done, though.

No one could have predicted the sudden shift of weather or the explainable onslaught of bone deep dread. One moment things were fine, normal, and the next it was the exact opposite. Dark clouds quickly swept the skies; big, ugly things that crackled and rumbled with malice. Then came the hungry bay of hounds. Except there were no dogs within a ten mile radius.

Urgency seeped into every pore, every nerve, as he thought in haste. There, off in the distance, laid a half dilapidated shack. It looked sturdy enough to withstand a storm, but whether or not it can last the efforts of unseen hounds remained a mystery.

Still, it’s a chance he had to take.

Fingers crammed past his lips, Oryn gave a shrill whistle. The sound of it sliced through the muggy air just for a split second; loud enough to have everyone, and everything, turn their attention towards the ramshackle shelter.

[nycmess]

Robyn had a pretty wild night at the club. Saw her leave with some guy that definitely was not Oryn. Heard there’s pictures of them arriving at her apartment.

WHAT? This is the kind of behavior I'd expect from Oryn, but Robyn??? Please submit the pictures if you find them. I'm shook!

[huntershowl]

@tewwor said:

⛓️ (wait but also josiah—)

send ⛓️ to find my muse bloody, bruised and restrained. (someone called animal control on hellhound finally) ACCEPTING

TO THEIR CREDIT, IT TAKES ONE HELL OF A PLAN to capture the hound. they were meticulous. the reward was twofold — well, threefold. one: claim the megafuck bounty on the monster's head. two: rid the streets of their plague. three, and to these particular men and women, the most important: interrogate amari fletch's right hand and learn the whereabouts of the unseen's stronghold.

they do plan to kill her, eventually. persephone is sure of that.

her knees bite hard into the opera theater's stage floor. they've smashed apart both of her arms — a wise move on their part, as the prosthetics are equipped with mechanisms to escape bonds. ( a leak? no, that's an easy guess. ) as if ankle-chains weren't enough, one of their menagerie of idiots has decided to use the environment to their advantage, attaching a long rope to the pulleys in the stage ceiling and keeping hellhound yoked by the throat at the end of it. they're left kneeling, pulled upright by the threat of a snapped neck. effective. painful. especially when the fuckers actually started kicking.

they're not sure when it happened, exactly — hellhound's consciousness is hanging by a thread, focused completely on forcing her muscles to keep her upright, forcing her fucked-up lungs to keep circulating. but at one point, everything must have gone to shit for them. because they're gone. even the guy tugging at the rope just to make the beast writhe. the burn of the rope pressed up underneath her jaw makes it impossible to move her head to see who it is that does it; they can barely hear, see, think through the haze in her brain.

with seph's luck, it's another one of her enemies come to take over the fucking job. she wheezes in a breath, bares bloodied teeth. the spotlight burns. even though moving a goddamn centimeter aggravates an unknowable amount of bones broken underneath dark-mottled skin, she doesn't plan to go down without a fight.

[morrigan-sims]

Happy Birthday Kristopher!

Thank you @simgerale for making Kristopher!

(bonus pics under the cut)

[rebelgearbeatsound]

Deezer

[lluiscarrasco]

where,  — The Spot Karaoke & Lounge closed  — @chairlcg

It was a rendition of Simply The Best that ended with Luis sliding on his knees, a drink raised in his hand, head tossed back. Patrons cheered from the back, while the two brunettes that jumped, in the middle of the song, on stage with him kissed each of his cheeks and skipped to the bar; laughter spilling from drunk lips. Shots kept coming; piling up on the small wooden table Oryn and Luis shared.

"Thank you, New York! You can buy my new album at that table over there — " the hand with the drink, gestured to Oryn. " —come have a drink with us, we don't bite — " a cheeky smile and a beat, " — well, he does, but I'm a good boy." boy-ish charm on full display, and an already hazy mind.

Eyes were on Oryn now, as Luis made his way over; an arm coming to rest around his neck lazily, "Come on, O — for me? One song — any fucking song you want!"

The last of the martini was gone in one gulp, and he was grabbing a shot now. Once downed, his face wrinkled slightly, a hiss leaving parted lips.

"What do you say? For old time's sake?"