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#orym x will
teaweltzer · a month ago
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What I imagine some snippets of Orym’s life in Zephrah
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mysticalspiders · 2 months ago
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Would it be possible to reposition this to look at Catha?
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the-kaedageist · 3 months ago
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Spoilers for Campaign 3, Episode 17, as well as Campaigns 1 & 2
He wakes in a body with a resurrection scar across his chest, haunted by the memory of climbing out of his own grave. This happens, sometimes, in the world he lives in. It’s rare but not unheard of. The dead do not always stay dead in Exandria.
He has a faint memory of a half-elven man with black hair and a sad smile. “I can’t do much,” said the man, “but you died protecting her. The least I can do is offer another chance.” He doesn’t even remember who she is.
Second chances are fickle, he learns. He wakes up without even remembering his name.
He flees the area where he was buried, where there are likely people who would know him, repacking the earth over his grave to hide his escape. He ends up in town after town - Byroden, Kymal, Stilben. He gets a job on a merchant vessel and sails to Wildemount, finds a place for himself in Darktow working for the Revelry. One night, he drinks too much wine and tells his story to a stranger in a bar. The purple tiefling nods as though he understands.
“Your past doesn’t make you,” the tiefling says. “I was supposed to be someone else. I was someone else. Hell, my brother also woke up in his own grave. Be who you are; who cares who you were?” There’s a certain sense to this logic, ringing true in his mind.
He’s used many names since that day when he woke up, but none of them have sounded right. When Kingsley Tealeaf asks what he truly wants to be called, he doesn’t know what to respond. What is his name? He still doesn’t know. The Champion of the Matron of Ravens gave him this second chance; that is the only thing he can recall. 
It takes three years for his memories to return, and even then, they only come in flashes.
He’s in Marquet by then. He’s established a flourishing trade in wines from Feolinn to Ank’Harel, with a cut of his profits going to the Revelry. He has a stable life, and he’s even somewhat happy.
A loud voice breaks through the evening calm. “NANCY! I’ve been looking all over for you!” He peers around the wine barrels in his cart to see a woman all in pink running up to a group of adventurers in front of a tavern. They are a strange group; one of them looks like a faun? The halfling in the group turns around, giving an exasperated but fond smile to the yelling woman in pink—
It is like being struck by lightning. Orym.
He doesn’t even know his own name, but he knows the name of this sad halfling man. Orym wasn’t sad in his memories, though. Orym wasn’t sad before he woke up in a grave.
The adventuring party hasn’t noticed him, shielded as he is behind the wine barrels in his cart. He studies them. Orym is sad but smiling; he jokes and seems very comfortable with them all. A person made of stone - an earth genasi? - laughs loudly. A woman who looks even more dead than himself plays with a strange puppet.
Orym is sad, but Orym is also happy.
He knows he can’t burden Orym with this, not until he remembers more of who he is. Not until he remembers more of who Orym is. So he does the hardest thing he’s ever managed since the first day of his new life - he signals the horses to drive away.
The barrels are brought to their ultimate destination, a wholesaler who works with Meatman Imports and Sexports. He sails back to Wildemount with gold in his pockets, his memories remaining frustratingly out of reach. He returns to Darktow. Kingsley laughs at his predicament, like his life is a trashy novel.
“I don’t think memory matters,” Kingsley says. “You are who you are in this moment. But if you really want to know…I know someone who can help.”
That’s how he meets the fearsome Sapphire of the Lucidean.
She’s not nearly as terrifying as the stories make her out to be, although she does immediately try to convince him to let her give him a tattoo. After hours of conversation, she presses her palm against his forehead and casts Greater Restoration. The memories return like warmth from her hands.
His name is Will.
He is from Zephrah, on Tal’dorei.
Orym is his husband.
It takes time to find him again. He scours the streets of Ank’Harel, inquiring at the tavern - the barkeep doesn’t remember the strange adventuring party from months before. He considers returning to Zephrah, but he’s not sure he wants to open that can of worms - not until he’s sure of the reception he’ll receive. He finds himself lying on the deck of his ship, staring up at the stars as the waves in the harbor gently rock it to and fro. That is when he receives a message from the Sapphire, who seems to have added him to her messaging rotation.
“Hey Will!!!” her cheery voice chirps in his ear. “We killed so many fish people today, they tried to steal Fjord’s ball again! Did you find your husband? Hope you’re not going—“ The message cuts off abruptly before it is finished, an inexplicable flash of sound in the night.
“Hello, Sapphire,” says Will. He can reply, right? “I haven’t found him yet.” Ruidus is high in the sky, a deeper red than normal; he wonders if it means something. “I don’t suppose you know anyone who’s good at finding people?”
The next day, the Sapphire appears on his ship via teleportation with a tired-looking blond elven wizard in tow. He doesn’t know why she’s decided to help him with this, but with a grin, she produces a mirror for scrying. When he asks her why, she shrugs. “It’s very romantic, you know?” she says. “You died and now you’re alive again, searching for your true love! It’s like something out of a novel.”
“She adopts people,” the elf tells him. He’s been mostly standing off to the side, watching the ocean; Will can’t quite place his accent. “You will never understand why. She is simply your friend now.”
There’s something charming about being bullied into friendship from sheer force of personality. Worse things have definitely happened to him.
The Sapphire starts to scry. (“You must call me Jester!” she insists, but he never once called the Tempest ‘Keyleth’ and he intends to show her the same respect he showed the last woman who gifted him with such kindness.) For several long moments, she is lost to an inner world, magic beyond any that Will has had access to. There is a flash of green across the horizon. Her eyes blink open once more, and she smiles at him. “I found him,” she says. “Ezrin can teleport us!”
Will expects the elf to complain; instead, he smiles indulgently and asks where they are going.
Of all places, Orym and his friends are in Whitestone. Staying with the de Rolos.
There is a bit of chaos when they initially teleport in; Ezrin and the Sapphire end up facing off against a gunslinger before they establish that they’re friendly. The gunslinger turns out to be Percival de Rolo himself, because everyone Will meets these days is both famous and slightly deranged. Will has only heard stories about him; it is like being in the presence of royalty.
“Well, here’s the thing,” the Sapphire says, sitting down with Lord de Rolo at his long dining table. A small tiefling girl runs by being chased by an older child who looks mostly human, except for the faint point in the boy’s ears. Lord de Rolo has fed them a fine meal, and even Ezrin the wizard looks less annoyed. “This is my friend, Will! His husband is somewhere here; don’t you want to help us reunite them?”
De Rolo doesn’t seem to know what to think. “Your husband?” he repeats, focusing on Will. There are dark circles under his eyes; this is a man who is deeply tired, even though Will can also sense that he’s content. Maybe it’s all the children.
“Is there a group of adventurers staying with you?” Will asks. He doesn’t even know the name of Orym’s adventuring party. When he’d known him, Orym hadn’t even been the type to join an adventuring party. But Will has become a pirate and a merchant, spending years not even knowing his own name. They are both changed irrevocably. He wonders if they’ll still fit together as easily as ever, or if some things that shatter can never be put to rights.
“Ah, Laudna’s party,” de Rolo says. Will doesn’t know who Laudna is, but he suspects he’s about to find out. “They are staying in the east wing. She has an…affliction that we are assisting with.” He says the last with danger in his voice. Will suspects he would not want to meet this man in a dark alley.
De Rolo leads them to the east wing; the Sapphire is practically bouncing on her heels as she walks. Ezrin feigns disinterest, but Will catches him studying portraits of generations of the de Rolo family as they make their way down a long gallery corridor. These two from Wildemount are out of place. He hopes he hasn’t led them both too far astray. Maybe they can take him with them, if Orym does not wish to see him again.
He’s surprised to discover he’s nervous. What if Orym has moved on? What if Orym has forgotten him? What if his return throws a wrench into a happy life, a life that Orym’s built from the ashes of their shared life together? Fear roils in his belly like indigestion.
De Rolo opens the door to a different sitting room and ushers them inside. Orym’s adventuring party is very large; they all turn to stare at the visitors, distracted from a game of some sort of cards.
The Sapphire, an expert at breaking the ice in every situation, opens her mouth and begins to speak, and that’s when Orym spots him. Their eyes lock. Orym’s jaw drops. His face is pale, his eyes are bright. Will has never stopped loving him, even when he didn’t remember he existed.
Orym has always been fast; he’s across the room before Will can blink. Will meets him in the middle without realizing he was moving, everyone around them fading into the background as he stands in front of Orym with tears shining unshed in his eyes.
“Hey,” he says. It sounds stupid the moment the word leaves his mouth, but he’s committed to this path, now. “I’m alive.”
Orym opens his mouth. He closes it again. His eyes are suspiciously damp; Will is impressed, because Orym has never been much of a crier. In lieu of words, Orym holds his hand up. It has been nearly seven years, but Will knows immediately what he’s asking. He kneels down so Orym can press his fingertips to his face, tracing the planes of his cheek, his jawline.
“I didn’t remember for a long time,” Will whispers hoarsely. “The moment I did…I had to find you. Even if you’ve moved on. Even if there’s nothing here for me any longer.”
Orym closes his eyes; a single tear streaks down his cheek. “I would never move on,” he whispers. “Not away from you. There will always be a place in my life for you.”
Will feels dampness on his own cheeks as well. “That’s all I need,” he says. “A place.”
Orym tugs him in. Will meets him halfway, still on his knees, enveloping Orym in a hug and pressing their foreheads together. He hears someone in the backroad coo, “awww” - he thinks it is the Sapphire but doesn’t have it in himself to care.
Will pulls apart after a long moment. “I may not be the person you remember,” he confesses. He winces. “I’ve been a pirate.”
Something in Orym’s eyes shines brightly. “I’ve stolen a priceless artifact,” he whispers.
“You have not,” Will says fondly. “I can’t believe that.”
Orym grins and concedes. “Ok. I was cajoled into stealing a priceless artifact against my will.”
Will can’t help himself; he reaches over to brush his fingertips through Orym’s hair. “And you’re an adventurer now. Look at you.” He’s delighted to see that Orym still blushes.
Orym takes his hand. “We’ve both changed,” he says. “I want to hear everything. I want to tell you everything. I need to introduce you to my friends.” He smiles, filled with so much disbelieving joy that Will is honored to have been the one to instill it in him. “Will. I’m so glad to have you back.”
As they hug again, both of them crying, Will hears in the background, “you’re from the Feywild?!“ It is the Sapphire’s voice, in a tone that tends to be followed by trouble.
He pulls away from Orym and breathes in deep. It’s time for introductions.
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Dusk: "Do you ever have a dream so real that when you wake up you don't know whether or not you're still dreaming?"
Orym, softly: "Yes."
oh god he dreams about Will and wakes up and for a moment he can't remember if the dream was real and his husband is still alive and maybe it was the alternative that was the nightmare but no, Will is still gone but for a moment he was still in the dream where he was alive and just for a few minutes everything was okay again
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penningwinona · 3 months ago
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man i love the way liam o'brien is exploring grief in critical role
vax was very directly dealing w/ the grief of loss, as he often watched his friends die AND had to come to terms with the fact that he, himself was going to die much sooner than he was ready for.
caleb carried a lot of guilt about his parents and their loss, and pretty much carried that all throughout the campaign. he wanted to bend reality to his will to fix everything he'd done. at the end of the last episode, he made the beautiful gesture of teleporting the book of letters beneath the ground near their graves.
and now orym. although we don't know a ton about his husband, what really happened to him, or where orym is along his journey of grief, he seems more far out from it than vax or caleb. it was six years ago, so he's had time to grieve and process will's death. while talking with chetney, he highlights the good times they had while will was alive. and he seems to miss him a lot, but doesn't seem as consumed by it. but of course we'll see how this plays out in the future, as we delve more into the attack and into orym's backstory and mission.
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nothingwithdignity · 3 months ago
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Will loved flowers. Every shade, every color. No matter how common they were, he marveled at them like they were the finest gold.
Orym started by bringing him flowers from the fields and eventually learned to craft them himself. At first, it was his way of saying he was happy to be home. A flower or two as he walked in the door just to make Will smile. Eventually though, it became a bit of a game.
They were, neither of them, creatures of routine. It was important to watch and to notice and to see the smallest of changes in the most ordinary of things. Orym started hiding flowers around their home while Will would hide whatever interesting bits he had collected along the way. Blooms would appear in the oddest corners and mixed into the least used items in their cabinets.
Orym realized that his favorite part of the game was watching the spark of discovery in Will’s eyes and the slow, sweet smile that spread across his face every time he found one of the hidden flowers. Laying in bed one lazy morning, watching Will sleep, Orym crafted a flower. Nothing ornate, just a simple string of forget-me-nots that matched Will’s eyes. He placed it on the pillow by Will’s head and when he woke, the hazy, sleepy smile that bloomed was the most beautiful thing that Orym had ever seen.
After that, Will woke to a flower most days and Orym’s day started with the smile he longed to see most in all the world. But not that last day.
Not the day that he wished most he had taken a few seconds to craft something beautiful. Of all days, why not that one?
Now, Orym is staring out into the darkness of the jungle, grateful for the quiet that lets his friends sleep, and hating the quiet that gives him time to think. He doesn’t even notice the first one but when he looks down, he’s crafted a glacier lily. He twirls the delicate flower in his finger for just a moment before he tucks it into a crack in FCG’s metal plates. It’s a flower meant to be given away.
That first flower breaks something of a dam in his mind. One leads to ten leads to twenty and he just keeps tucking them gently across his friend. Maybe they will enjoy them, maybe they will marvel at them. He knows it won’t be with that smile that he longs so desperately for but maybe, just maybe, he’ll see something there that will let him pretend. If not, maybe he’ll see it in Dorian, or Imogen, or Ashton, or Fearne. If not, maybe he can give them all the flowers he wishes he could have given Will. Maybe that will be enough.
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aeruthien · 2 months ago
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I really want Lieve'tel to have officiated Orym and Will's wedding for the sole reason of Liam's character officiating a wedding between Liam's character and the (presumed) son of Liam's character
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demigoddessqueens · a month ago
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Loved all the anon angst: okay now for some happier stuff.
Reader has kept their birthday a secret from her love(s). What do they do?
Reader x Percy
Reader x Vax
Reader x Dorian
Reader x Dariax
Reader x Caleb
Reader x Will x Orym
Awww!!! It’s giving surprise bday vibes 🎂 💕
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Percy de Rolo
It’s your birthday??? Why didn’t you say something??
Stress working for a couple of days and nights until BOOM! One custom set of some armor protection and a fashionable ring lined with small diamonds and fastened with a larger one as the center
Vax’ildan
Similar reaction to Percy, but he’s a bit more open about it. You’ll be talking to Vex and he bursts in like “it’s your birthday and you didn’t say anything??”
Despite your insistence he doesn’t have to make a fuss, it’s still a day and night out on the town. Ending with a kiss under the stars
Dorian
Shjesjskkeke how could you not tell him it’s your bday????
Please let this boi serenade and woo you as his heart desires. Anything you say goes
Dariax
“Babe what?? It’s your birthday?? Why? How? What?!”
Whatever you want to do, done. Spa day all day? Absolutely!
Caleb
His love? His heart? Your birthday? That’s it come on, you’re going out.
A quiet day with you both, little love notes and letters he’s written about you, maybe a waltz under the stars and romance books from Chastity’s Nook
Will and Orym
Get ready for the softest, most loving day ever. Starting with a surprise breakfast in bed and morning kisses and just lousing around all day.
Don’t you dare get up for anything because they’ll get it for you
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greatgodempresspan · 3 months ago
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Big moon, little moon.
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annemarieyeretzian · a month ago
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they grew up together,,, trained together,,, “and of course, fell utterly and blissfully in love”,,, I am miserable
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themonstersmistresss · 3 months ago
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How we feeling critters? To be validated? Was it worth it? What did it cost? Was it everything?
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setsailforthestars · a month ago
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When Liam O’Brien said “big moon, little moon”
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outofinitiative · 2 months ago
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NO NOT ORYM ASKING TO LOOK AT CATHA
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the-kaedageist · 2 months ago
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Will had been the one who’d come up with it, in the end. When he’d first made the comment, all those years ago, Orym had never realized he would someday wear it inked into his own flesh.
It was back when the thing between them had still been new, before it had settled into the comfort of time - those breathless days when Orym hadn’t quite believed what was happening, rolling over in his bed to stare at Will’s sleeping form in wonder. Before he’d learned to expect Will curled around him and then suddenly found him ripped away, forced to live without that embrace for the rest of his life.
Orym’s stomach had still sprouted butterflies whenever he’d spotted Will unexpectedly, across a crowded room or walking alone through Zephrah. He’d kept a folder with the letters Will sent him, each more affectionate than the last, the most recent of their number still able to make him blush. The nights spent together had not yet become habitual, each one a unique and well-trodden memory.
Love was strange, Orym had thought at the time - this thing between them may have been new, but his wellspring of feelings for Will had existed far longer, as familiar to him as breathing. He’d never realized that love, once requited, came with such dizzying fear, nor such hopeful euphoria. He’d think of Will for no reason and feel himself flush down the back of his neck; he’d remember one of their evenings and hide his face in his hands, too overcome with reliving the memory. He and Will had trained for the guard together for years, working together day in and day out. How could he have known a person so well and also been continually surprised by him, day after day?
That particular day, he’d met Will on a hill overlooking Zephrah. It was early in a humid summer evening, warmth already crawling its way down Orym’s back, and the hum of cicadas had provided a background chorus to their date. Will had brought a blanket and placed it on the grass, a simple picnic dinner laid out in front of them, and Orym found himself marveling at how easy it was to sit there and eat, carry on a normal conversation about work, even as he felt as though he was going to burst out of his own skin. Will would lean over with a grape between his fingers, pressing it against Orym’s lips in the allusion of a kiss, and Orym would be gone.
The hour had grown late, dusk bringing with it the first scattering of stars. Will recalled a childhood memory; Orym told a story about his day. They’d sipped sweet peach juice together, only available in season; the brightness of the flavor had matched the flare in Orym’s heart whenever he’d caught Will watching him.
“I love the stars,” Will said, staring up at the sky. His face had been handsome in profile, and Orym hadn’t want to tear his gaze from it.
Orym remembered laughing. “I know,” he’d replied fondly. Will had hardly talked of anything else when they’d met outside at night. Sometimes he’d walked into trees because he’d been too busy gazing up at the waterfall of starlight in the sky to notice his surroundings.
Orym loved him.
So even though he’d heard this before, he nudged himself closer to Will on the blanket, curling into him even in the summer heat and leaning back on his hands to mirror Will’s posture. “Teach me your favorites?”
A particularly bright star had winked on the horizon. Will smiled, pointing to it. “That’s the Raven’s Heart. The sign of the Matron. It rises in the east all summer, right at dusk. It’s how I know summer is here, when I start seeing it.”
“Did you know that the constellations change, depending on where you are on the planet?” Orym had asked, gazing up at the sky himself. Back then, he had not traveled beyond Zephrah; he’d never felt the urge, not until afterwards. “The Tempest told me once. But even though they’re in different places or can be seen at different times, they’re all in the same patterns.” He smiled. “There’s something comforting in that, to know that wherever you are on Exandria, you’re under the same stars.”
“And the same moons,” Will added, pointing at the faint red glow in the sky. “Look. It’s you.”
Orym had not been expecting such a comment, lured in by the cozy evening, the dreamy conversation. He hadn’t been sure how he’d felt about being compared to the malevolent-feeling red moon that occasionally hung on the horizon. “It’s me?” he repeated carefully.
Will had glanced over at him, his smile never fading. “Little moon,” he said. His finger moved to point at Catha. “Big moon. That’s me.”
Orym’s mouth had become suddenly dry. He could still remember the feeling of being overcome with the depth of his love for the man next to him. “Big moon, little moon,” he’d repeated, hoping his voice wasn’t as shaky as it felt. “I like it.” He’d paused for a moment. “Even if I have to be the ill omen.”
Will turned suddenly, leaning down to look deep in Orym’s eyes. He’d been backlit by moonlight; it glinted off of his hair. Without consciously deciding to do so, Orym had found himself reaching up to tangle one hand in his thick curls.
“You’re not an ill omen,” Will murmured. “Not to me.” He’d leaned down and kissed Orym, right there under Ruidus’s watchful eye, and Orym could still remember the shape of his smile as he returned the kiss. If there had been anyone who could have overcome an ill omen, it had been Will.
Orym stared up at Ruidus again, only a faint smudge of crimson on the horizon. It was ten years later - ten wonderful, horrible, grief-filled years. Ruidus had turned into something comforting, a reminder of Will that would last long after Orym’s own lifetime. Maybe it served as an ill omen for others - but for Orym, the little moon was nothing but happy memories and kisses in the dark.
“Chet and I have next watch,” said Ashton, startling Orym out of his reverie. He focused his poor vision in the dark, taking in the glint of starlight off of a familiar hammer. “Where’s Fearne?”
Orym soundlessly pointed in the direction of the clearing nearby, where Fearne had set herself up to dig joyfully through a bag she’d lifted from a shopkeeper in a nearby town, lit with a backlight of glowing fae fire that Orym had hoped wouldn’t attract local predators. “I think I wasn’t interesting enough,”  Orym confided with a smile.
“I’ll get her. You should get some sleep,” Ashton said, heading off to the clearing to tell Fearne as well. He stopped, pausing for a moment. “Don’t brood too much, okay?” They didn’t wait for an answer before heading off in Fearne’s direction.
Orym watched them go, feeling a denial that he’d been brooding on the tip of his tongue. Instead of arguing - Ashton would have just taken that as confirmation anyway - he made his way back to his bedroll, curling into it and wishing, again, for the feeling of Will’s arms around him, just one more time. It had been years. He was starting to suspect that he would carry that yearning for the rest of his life.
He felt someone larger settle at his side, radiating the comforting sense of a nearby source of warmth. “You can cuddle, if you like,” Fearne whispered. Orym didn’t answer as he curled into her, grateful for the incredible, undefinable friendships he’d never dreamed of having, back in a world where he’d been a simple married guard in Zephrah.
The crimson sphere of Ruidus flashed for the space of a heartbeat, just as Orym drifted into sleep.
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knightingale99 · 3 months ago
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Being so excited for a lore drop episode then hearing, ”the worst thing that’s ever happened to me already happened” and “little moon, big moon”
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threadcountart · 2 months ago
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Lvl. Baby druidcraft
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From a very young age, Orym has always loved adorning his important ones with flowers
After experiencing Episode 17, I cope by drawing tiny Orym and Will. Also those flowers are 100% from either Derrig’s family garden or from Orym’s. Someone is mourning those cultivated blossoms but the babies are just too cute.
Image ID below
[Image ID: Digital sketch of toddler Orym standing to the left and behind a seated smiling toddler Will, tossing dirt, purple and pink flowers, and grass on to Will's head. Orym and Will are characters from Critical Role Campaign 3. Orym looks 2 years old, Will looks 3. They're sitting amongst short green grass with a grey background. Only their clothes and the plants are colored. Behind Orym is a small shovel sticking out of a dirt hole with uprooted grass and flowers all around. Orym is chubby with messy short hair, a light-green long-sleeved shirt and light-brown long pants and socks (uncolored). His arms are raised mid toss, he has a small blush and a determined expression. There are two sparkles around his head indicating he is pleased with his work. Will sits cross legged with his eyes closed and chin tilted up. Will has wavy hair that goes to the base of his head. He has a pale blue rumply long-sleeved shirt, dark blue pants and strapless shoes (uncolored). Text on the drawing reads [@ThreadcountArt] and [Do not repost/edit/trace] End ID]
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a-human-pippin-took · 2 months ago
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it’s one in the morning and i am genuinely crying about orym and will,, i am totally normal and fine and calm about them,,,,
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aeruthien · 3 months ago
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Hey hey how much do you guys want to bet that Will was a wizard instead of a fighter, so Orym could continue the wizard/halfling pairing of C1 (Alura/Kima) and C2 (Caleb/Veth)?
:)
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demigoddessqueens · a month ago
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Couple of asks. Reader gets kidnapped by some unknown foe. How do these pairings get Reader back and what is the reunion like?
Will x Orym
Dorian x Dariax
Percy x Vax (not sure if you have done something similar before )
Reunion angst!! I love it!
Will and Orym
Worried AF and turning every stick, stone and mountain looking for you.
Once they get you back, they’ll rarely let you out of their sight
Dorian and Dariax
Completely worried but at least they have the Bell’s and The Crown Keepers to rely on to help find you
Once they do find you, both Dorian and Dariax left out the gasps of relief they didn’t realize they will were holding in while finding you
Percy and Vax’ildan
Those who have taken you best do well to make their peace because it will be the last thing they do
It’s an emotional reunion with them both, and when you’re back with the rest of Vox Machina, they still linger around to keep you in sights but it can be a bit much
“Guys, I’m just going to the river, it’s fine 😑”,
“oh…,ok 😒😞😔🥺”
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smilelikeawolf · 2 months ago
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Orym: “Hey, Estani, can I look at Catha?”
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