For Your Consideration: A CR After Dark Playground

Also some whump to live up to my namesake:

Shadow sorcerers get darkvision at level 1, so it's very reasonable to believe that every single blood relative can see in the dark. All except him. Their summer home was dark as hell, so imagine what their primary home is like. I don't think his family would've been very accommodating for the one member of House Tachonis who can't see in the dark.

-Whump

Whump here with the pervert-whump combo.

It always felt strange to Occtis that he was afraid of the dark, even he could sense the dissonance between that fear and his general demeanor. But nothing good had ever come from beyond the edge of his sight, past what he could see in the dim torchlight of his home. If he was lucky it was mocking voices, or more commonly bellowing shouts. If he was unlucky, it was the powerful magic of his siblings or his father, wresting the control of his body away from him for whatever intentions they had that day.

Even more strange, Occtis thought, was that learning to see through the dark did very little to assuage his fear. With his new dark vision, everything looked like shadows, shades of gray and black that made his reality feel warped.

Sometimes he would light a candle, but they were easily snuffed so did little to ease his anxiety. When the moon was bright he would open the curtains, but the chance of a clear night in Dol-Makjar made that a rarity. Sometimes he would leave his door open a crack, with such a full house there was almost always someone awake with the lights on, but the open door was a vulnerability that could so easily be exploited by a cruel, unsleeping sibling—so usually, Occtis would simply deal with it.

But one night he woke up with a shout, frozen to the mattress by a shape on the wall that wasn’t really there. Then there was a soft knock on the door, and a head whose face was adorned in glowing ink was poking in.

“Occtis, are you alright?” Wick’s voice was barely above a whisper, but the sound of it was enough to release a long, ragged breath from Occtis’ lungs. “It’s just Wick, I hope it’s okay for me to come check on you.”

He entered the room to see Occtis shaking like a leaf in his bed, so he lit the candle on the dresser and went to sit with him.

Occtis let himself be gathered into Wick’s arms, focusing on the other man’s heartbeat and breathing until his own slowed to match. Wick held him close, hummed a tune Occtis didn’t recognize but was soothed by all the same.

“Bad dream?” Wick asked softly after some time, and was patient as he let Occtis take his time responding.

“Yeah,” Occtis whispered after a while. “Just a little scared of the dark.”

“Oh, Occtis, I understand,” Wick cooed evenly. “I can scarcely imagine the cruelty it’s treated you with.” He shifted their bodies so they could lay facing each other, though he kept a protective arm draped over the wizard.

The candle did burn out before Occtis woke the next morning, but there was nothing to fear as he slept soundly in the arms of his living night light.

Since then, Occtis has begun affectionately calling Wick his Lightning Bug

For Hal and his boys: when are the first “I love you”s between Hal and each of the boys???

And of course, That One, I want your thoughts as well!!

Actually you know what... I want a community project. I challenge everyone to send in something... It could just be one or some or all eight, something written out ficlet style or just "after a few months over dinner". Doesn't have to be fancy but... If you see this first I challenge you to write yours before you see the others.

I mean you don't have to, I'm not your parent, but it would be fun to see the diverse headcannons here! You hang out here often, once in a while, or first time through... let's hear it.

The windows of Hal’s home are wide open to allow for as much of what pitiful breeze there is to waft through in hopes it soothes overheated skin. Only two of the most common occupants currently grace the gorgeous house surrounded in jasmine, Julien and Halandil, himself. 

Both men are upstairs in Hal’s office. Hal sits at his desk. His shirt is completely unbuttoned, pants rolled up several times, and barefoot. He’s been attempting to answer various correspondence and place several orders for the theatre, but it is becoming impossible to focus on anything other than the sweat dripping down the torso of the younger man draped across one of the chaise lounges he’s added to the office in the last few years. 

Julien is miserable. His curls are currently piled atop his head, absolutely smothering them to the Reaches and back, and he’s rid himself of all clothes except his braies. His cheeks and chest are flushed with the heat and he’s violently reminded why the Davinos never summered in Dol-Makjar. Seasons in the Orchard are, or at least were, quite subtle. This heat and humidity are oppressive. It’s made all the more intolerable by the handsome orc behind the desk across from him clearly unable to look away from the undoubtedly gorgeous picture he must be painting. 

He’s all the more frustrated because he’s recently realized that telling Azune that he loves him did nothing for the feeling he also has for Halandil. Azure had spoken with him many times about being allowed, even encouraged, to love more than one person at once. To say that’s wrong, since Azune clearly loves Hal and Julien, would be to say that he is wrong. While Julien understands, it does nothing to mitigate the frustration that he feels in parallel with adoration toward Hal. 

The last thing Julien wants to be is one of those submissive fools who makes a spectacle of themselves thinking there is love where there is only fun. He’s seen it happen many times at many a club or brothel, a poor lovesick fooling trailing after the first person to give them undivided attention and a spectacular orgasm. Julien promised himself he would never be that person. And here he is, practically throwing himself at an older man who takes him apart and builds him back up over and over as many times as he needs it then ends the whole event with a kiss on the forehead and a glass of water on the bedside table. How was Julien supposed to resist that? So he stews on the lounge, furious and deeply in love, scowling so much Hal is beginning to worry. 

Hal clears his throat as he leans back in his chair, “that’s quite the displeased expression, Julien. Is the heat that disagreeable to you?”

“Yes,” Julien huffs as he throws his head over the armrest. “The summers in the Orchard are very mild. This humidity, I think, is unpleasant.” 

“Is that all you’re unhappy with?” Hal asks. 

Damn him. He’s reads me too well. He’ll know if I lie. Always does. 

Julien shakes his head, no. 

Hal shuffles some papers into a neat pile and caps his bottle of ink, before standing up and walking to the edge of the chaise lounge. He gestures toward Julien’s legs, “may I?”  

Juline nods his head, yes. 

Hal reaches down and lifts Julien’s bare legs enough to slide underneath them before placing them across his lap. Automatically, deft fingers start tapping patterns of various songs along long, pale legs. They sit like that for a moment before Hal asks, “what is it, J? What’s upsetting you?”

Halandil is the only person who has ever called him that, ‘J’. It makes the cavernous ache within him feel a little less bottomless whenever Hal refers to him as such. 

Time to be brave, knight. 

“I am frustrated with myself, Halandil.” Julien starts, giving himself time to work up to what he knows he has to say. “Not only was I unable to keep myself from forming an attachment to the Arcane Marshal.” 

Hal flicks his leg and chuckles, “You can call him ‘Azune’, ridiculous boy.” 

Julien feigns irritation and squirms in Hal’s lap for a moment before settling and speaking again, “fine, yes. I am quite fond of Azune, as you well know.” 

Hal nods, yes. 

“It would appear, also, that,” Julien leans his head back over the armrest and stares straight at the ceiling. “That I have a similarly strong fondness for you.” 

Hal chuckles, “Julien, I am fond of you as well. You’d have to be out of your mind not to know that.” 

Julien lets out a frustrated groan and reaches up with both hands to rub his face. It is clear that Hal is not understanding the depth of said fondness, that or he is doing this on purpose to force Julien to say the words out loud. 

Speak plainly, like you do with Zune. 

Julien takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and speaks, “I love you, Halandil.” 

Hal lets out a small gasp and Julien’s eyes fly open. Strong hands tightening on Julien’s calf before he turns to look at the younger man, eyes wide and full of adoration. “I love you too, J.” 

Julien gets wild and erratic. Any ability to make multi-step plans disappears. The only step is the next one, and he's moving through each next step as fast as possible. He knows his own body enough to know that there's a point coming where he'll drop, so everything has to happen before then. He can still follow directions if they're clear enough and seem like a good idea. Good luck convincing him if you're not slotted into the "command" section of his brain.

Occtis gets flighty and needs to leave. Even if he's safe where he is, even if he's actively being helped, the need to get to somewhere safe is so strong that he has to be proactively soothed and held still to keep him in place. Even then, sometimes he has to pace circles or he'll start screaming.

Wick utterly panics. He's certain he's going to die. He's not long for this world. He's lost just enough blood to be a little cold and dizzy, and he's putting his affairs in order and trying to give instructions on how to get his body back to his family (because he's dying. He is going to die.)

Azune just shuts down. As soon as everyone is out of danger and his adrenaline drops, he sits down and goes completely still, waiting for healing, or his next instructions, or the next fight to start. He's extremely aware of exactly how injured he is, and how he needs to act to conserve energy or not exacerbate injuries.

-downintherookery

The swing from Wick to Azune here... And each one of them dead on. Like there's a reason Julien's a daredevil and half his shit doesn't start until he's bloodied. "He knows his body is going to drop and is going to do as much as possible before that happens."

Hal goes into command mode. His voice is loud and clear and rings like a bell while he directs people. Everything else fades and there's only the present moment and the current goal. He can be a little ruthless and not realize until later, when he's thinking with more nuance and empathy and realizes that "get him out of the way, now," doesn't take into account that the him in question is also in pain.

Bolaire doesn't notice. At some point his body stops responding and it's always a surprise. Very much someone who has no idea how a car works coming to the realization that they're driving a car with no oil in it, the moment their car catches fire.

Thaisha is extremely in tune with her body and herself and the moment things start to feel wrong she's doing situation triage. What is the shortest path to safety, how does healing need to be parceled out to make sure everyone lives, who is she prioritizing, where are they, how does she get them safe.

Sometimes it’s Occtis. More often it’s Wick. Trying to give a command to someone and having them look confused, ask why he’s yelling, so quiet and hurt, wrenches him out of the flow of command and into what’s in front of him.

Julien gets wild and erratic. Any ability to make multi-step plans disappears. The only step is the next one, and he's moving through each next step as fast as possible. He knows his own body enough to know that there's a point coming where he'll drop, so everything has to happen before then. He can still follow directions if they're clear enough and seem like a good idea. Good luck convincing him if you're not slotted into the "command" section of his brain.

Occtis gets flighty and needs to leave. Even if he's safe where he is, even if he's actively being helped, the need to get to somewhere safe is so strong that he has to be proactively soothed and held still to keep him in place. Even then, sometimes he has to pace circles or he'll start screaming.

Wick utterly panics. He's certain he's going to die. He's not long for this world. He's lost just enough blood to be a little cold and dizzy, and he's putting his affairs in order and trying to give instructions on how to get his body back to his family (because he's dying. He is going to die.)

Azune just shuts down. As soon as everyone is out of danger and his adrenaline drops, he sits down and goes completely still, waiting for healing, or his next instructions, or the next fight to start. He's extremely aware of exactly how injured he is, and how he needs to act to conserve energy or not exacerbate injuries.

-downintherookery

The swing from Wick to Azune here... And each one of them dead on. Like there's a reason Julien's a daredevil and half his shit doesn't start until he's bloodied. "He knows his body is going to drop and is going to do as much as possible before that happens."

Hal goes into command mode. His voice is loud and clear and rings like a bell while he directs people. Everything else fades and there's only the present moment and the current goal. He can be a little ruthless and not realize until later, when he's thinking with more nuance and empathy and realizes that "get him out of the way, now," doesn't take into account that the him in question is also in pain.

Bolaire doesn't notice. At some point his body stops responding and it's always a surprise. Very much someone who has no idea how a car works coming to the realization that they're driving a car with no oil in it, the moment their car catches fire.

Thaisha is extremely in tune with her body and herself and the moment things start to feel wrong she's doing situation triage. What is the shortest path to safety, how does healing need to be parceled out to make sure everyone lives, who is she prioritizing, where are they, how does she get them safe.

For Hal and his boys: when are the first “I love you”s between Hal and each of the boys???

And of course, That One, I want your thoughts as well!!

Actually you know what... I want a community project. I challenge everyone to send in something... It could just be one or some or all eight, something written out ficlet style or just "after a few months over dinner". Doesn't have to be fancy but... If you see this first I challenge you to write yours before you see the others.

I mean you don't have to, I'm not your parent, but it would be fun to see the diverse headcannons here! You hang out here often, once in a while, or first time through... let's hear it.

Will still be going by Taper though, both for tagging sakes and because ive gotten used to the nickname. and may still occasionally use the Anon feature at times. sometimes the more filthy things i write make me blush a bit.

And of course you are always welcome to hang out on or off anon you're still Taper to us.