mornelithe_falconsbane: (WHAT???)
mornelithe_falconsbane ([personal profile] mornelithe_falconsbane) wrote in [community profile] 21_days2015-07-17 06:13 pm

21 Days of Valdemar!

Welcome to 21 Days of Valdemar!


Put on your party hats - it’s time for the Dead Vanyel Memorial Party! Vanyel is OFFICIALLY the Woobiest of the Woobies, and we celebrate in his honour!

WE'RE DONE.

No More Fills posted here! Post to AO3 or FF.Net and post the link here!


Discussion Post | Mod Call Post | Resources Post


Schedule
 

Day 1 -Aug. 9 - Prompts! You will have seven days to put as many prompts as you'd like on this post. And if you start writing them early, well that's just good planning!

Day 8 - Aug. 16 - Prompting ends, posting begins! You have 14 days to write, draw, and potentially diorama as many prompts as you can.

Day 19 - Aug. 27 - This is the cut-off day for prompters to reply to any questions about their prompt. Unanswered questions are considered enthusiastic agreement.

Day 21 - Aug. 29 - Last day of posting! All fills must be posted by 11:59 PM North American Mountain Time.
Day 22 - Aug. 30 - Party time! You now have the option of going unanon and reposting everything you've done to AO3 under our fancy AO3 Collection. Or unanoning in whatever manner you please.

(Click on the dates for countdowns; the fest is following MDT/Mountain Time)



Rules

For the purposes of this fest, the prompts themselves are warnings. If you have issues with this policy, we recommend either not participating or using Dreamwidth blocker.


Joining the 21_days community is optional for prompters, fillers, and all interested parties; we have some extra content for comm members, but this prompt/fill post, the discussion post, and the mod call post are open for everyone.


MOST IMPORTANT RULE: Posting unanon will be deleted. This doesn't mean you aren't welcome here! And if you'd like the content of your comment PMed to you, contact the MOD CALL post.


For Prompters and Readers


  1. Subject lines should include the series, characters and/or pairing you want. Feel free to be as descriptive as you'd like. Warnings aren't required, but they also aren't banned.
  2. You don't have to write or draw. It's anon, there's no IP-tracking, and we aren't going to stalk you.
  3. Do not comment on other people's prompts to try and change pairings or characters. Post your own version with the characters you want instead.
  4. If you fail to respond to a 'is this okay?' kind of question about any of your prompts by the 19th day, it'll be taken as an enthusiastic yes, no matter what the question is.
  5. There are no subject bans. You may prompt anything you want.
  6. If you don't want to answer any questions, you can say so, and that will work as blanket permission for anything people might want to do with your prompt.
  7. Prompts for non-Valdemar Mercedes Lackey series are allowed.

For Artists and Writers

  1. No claiming prompts, please, as multiple fills are welcome!
  2. Minimum wordcount per fill is 100 words.
  3. All content is allowed and all warnings are optional, but if you want to write or draw extreme kinks** for a prompt that doesn’t specifically request them, you have ask the prompter first.
  4. If the artist requests it, the mods will repost art fills as an embedded picture in a reply to their comment. NSFW art will be labelled as such in the subject line by re-posting mods. Art involving underaged characters in porn situations will not be re-posted as an embed.
  5. RPF of underage people is not allowed. We're not even sure if it's possible for Valdemar fic, but whatever. It's not allowed.

** "extreme kinks" for the purposes of this exchange include but are not necessarily limited to: extreme underage, major character death, scat/watersports/emetophilia, extreme gore, and bestiality. Please use reasonable discretion, and ask a mod if you have any questions!


For Everyone


This is a Choose Not to Warn fest. At no point will any comment be deleted for failure to warn of its content in the subject lines. They will be deleted for rampaging dickery and failure to follow the rules.


Unanon comments will be deleted.

Attempts at policing other people's fun will be deleted.

Prompts posted after the end of the 7th day will be deleted.

Links to off-meme posts posted prior to end of the 21st day will be deleted.

Concerns are to be directed to the MOD CALL post. If posted here, they will be deleted.

Fills that have spectacularly failed to fulfill the prompt/been posted to the wrong spot will be screened. You can request a copy of your work at the MOD CALL post.


The rules may change without warning in response to unforeseen circumstances, like us thinking of better ones.

FILL: Vanyel & Blanket, Offscreen Van/Stef Pre-slash

(Anonymous) 2015-08-16 09:55 pm (UTC)(link)
This was supposed to fit the Vanyel/Blankets prompt, but I felt I ended up a bit off-message so I'm posting under the catch-all prompt just in case! Pretty much 300 words of crack :)

-- "Platonic" --

Vanyel hummed to himself as he worked, the words of Stef’s new ballad running through his mind. His young – friend, his friend – had sung it for him the night before, and he thought that with a bit of creativity, he may be able to split out the lyrics into a duet. He just had to work out the right transitions, and the points where the harmony would be most effective.

If, and here he felt rather less certain of his success, Stefen was open to the idea of experimentation on this piece. Vanyel’s hands stilled for a moment before continuing their task. He and Stefen had altered songs before, adapted them to accommodate two voices instead of one, but never with one of Stef’s own compositions. Perhaps the achingly beautiful redhead – sorry, the precociously competent young man – would be more averse to Vanyel meddling with his own song. It was, after all, a very intimate form of creative intrusion, and Stef might not be comfortable with –

Vanyel sighed, forcing himself away from thoughts of intimacy and intrusion.

He was finished with one project, at least. He tied off the last thread and set the needle aside. Rising to his feet, he shook out his creation: a patchwork quilt, eight by eight feet. The patches were taken from scraps of old clothing – his own, as well as discarded tunics of Stef’s that he’d begged from Medren.

Isn’t that a bit of a, well, more than friendly sort of gift? Medren had asked when Vanyel explained. Vanyel had laughed; he still had no idea, definitely no idea at all, of what Medren had been talking about. The blanket was a perfectly platonic gift, merely a symbol of their lives sewn inextricably together, the tattered pieces of each individual soul given a new and unified purpose.

“Perfectly platonic,” Vanyel reminded himself aloud. He stared down at the blanket, inexplicably nervous. “Oh gods, I hope he likes it.”

Art: Pretty Soldier Sailor Vanyel

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Krebain/Vanyel + Stefen/Vanyel, sex slave mind-fuckery H/C

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 06:19 am (UTC)(link)
I want Vanyel to go with Krebain and spend the next fifteen years as his perverse mind-fucked sex slave, and then the Heralds finally rescue him and he spends five years or whatever still fucked-up and traumatized and wasting away, and when the Heralds and Healers have exhausted all other options they discover that a young Bard in training can sing pain away so they decide to give it a go. And Stefen ends up being the only one who can slowly draw Vanyel back out of his twisted, broken shell.

I know it’s a bit of a long plot, so I’d be happy to get either one fill covering the whole thing (pipe dream, I know!) or separate fills for:

1] Just the traumatizing sex slave mind-fuckery with Krebain!

2] Just the trauma recovery parts with Heralds, Healers, and Stefen!

Re: Krebain/Vanyel + Stefen/Vanyel, sex slave mind-fuckery H/C

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 08:59 am (UTC)(link)
I'm trying to imagine how little literally anyone would approve of that relationship, and I can't stop grinning. Can you imagine Savil faced with the very young bard that Broken-Vanyel has a super-intense crush on? I can, and it's...well, actually canon says she'd do nothing to stop it, but her character screams that she would!

(Do they trot broken-Vanyel out to use him to fight Karse? Maybe they have to tether him to a stake at night to keep him from trying to wander toward Krebain's corpse whenever he gets distracted--okay, just tell me they're using him as a magical-murder-robot, and that's why they're so concerned that his condition is worsening. I need that in my life enough to prompt it myself if that's not something you want from this prompt.

Fill - The Lost One

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The Lost One 6/7

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10.1/9 send help

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Alberich/Multiple & Alberich/Any Male Character - Non-Con Gangbang, H/C

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 06:47 am (UTC)(link)
So the set up in the beginning of Exile's Honour is completely perfect for Alberich to be tortured a lot more intensively and viciously than simply being lit on fire. And by that, I obviously mean I want him gang-raped by the men under his command at the encouragement of the Sun Priest, and also tortured in whatever manner tickles you the most. Me, I'm a fan of humiliation, dehumanization, branding, flaying, and beatings, but I am a really flexible kind of person when it come to torture. Basically, if he doesn't like it, I do. Obviously, finish it off by lighting him on fire.

And then give me him recovering in Valdemar, where no one quite knows what happened to him except the healers and Kantor, and so no one quite understands why he's failing so horribly at adjusting in Valdemar (much more horribly than he did in canon, please. If you want linguistic failures and him not comprehending half of what people are saying, I would really, really enjoy that). If you want to ship him with someone, all I ask is not Myste. Good god, anyone but Myste. If you want me super happy, use Kimel, Dethor, Jadus, or Elcarth, but fuck, I don't care if you use Talia, so long as it isn't Myste.

Any single part of this is a-okay as a fill to me.

Vanyel/Tantras, Starvation, Skinny Vanyel, Blanket Sharing, H/C

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 07:10 am (UTC)(link)
Basic premise: using magic is ridiculously energy intensive. Like Vanyel should be eating like Phelps if he wants to Gate somewhere, and that's why he's so thin and worn out at the beginning of Magic's Promise. And maybe everyone but Vanyel knows this, because maximum woobie.

I...don't care how or why really. Let's just assume that Vanyel saw Tantras with a woman or two, and was as charmingly unaware of bisexuality as he was of homosexuality in Pawn. Anyway, I want scary-skinny Vanyel on verge of collapse in the middle of winter on the Karsite Border a month or two prior to the opening of Promise, and a visiting Tantras feeding him, sharing blankets because they're camping in the middle of nowhere and Vanyel is cold, and flirting like it's going out of style. All while Vanyel curses his luck that his totally hot straight friend is so incredibly cuddly and hot. And weirdly devoted to feeding him.

Re: Vanyel/Tantras, Starvation, Skinny Vanyel, Blanket Sharing, H/C

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 07:54 am (UTC)(link)
*heart eyes* This prompt sounds amazing, nonny :D

Re: Vanyel/Tantras, Starvation - FILL: Respite, Part 1

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Vanyel/Blankets

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 07:16 am (UTC)(link)
Exactly what it says on the tin, however you want to interpret it.

FILL: Vanyel/Blankets & Yfandes - Art!

(Anonymous) 2015-08-16 11:02 pm (UTC)(link)
Decided to go with the blanket-cuddling garden scene from Magic's Pawn! Hope you like it :)

http://i.cubeupload.com/8WhqLo.png

Mods, could you repost as an embed?

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Fill- Vanyel/Blanket 1/? - A Restful Night

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Vanyel/Tashir

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 07:23 am (UTC)(link)
Vanyel went no-no-no, but what if he'd gone no-no-no-yeah-okay-you-convinced-me?

...if you want to make Vanyel inexplicably accidentally mind-controlled by Tashir until half-way through, like fuck yes, I want that. But I'll take this hot mess however I can get it.

Re: Vanyel/Tashir

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 01:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Hey anon, do you need this to be during Magic's Promise, or would it be okay if it was sometime afterwards?

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Stefan/Bandits, Stef/Vanyel, Non-Con

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 08:28 am (UTC)(link)
Bandits catch Stef instead of Vanyel, and gangrape him instead. Vanyel figures it out way too late, when Leareth presents a very broken Stef as his shiny "Come-with-me-and-be-my-magic-battery" bribe.

Ylsa/Karen/Sherrill, get-together fic

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 10:01 am (UTC)(link)
At one point in the Arrows books, there's a throwaway line about how Ylsa, Karen, and Sherrill might have formed a lifebonded threesome if Ylsa had lived. This is the story I want. Feel free to make it as angsty as you want along the way, so long as there's shmoop at the end.

Re: Ylsa/Karen/Sherrill, get-together fic

(Anonymous) 2015-08-12 02:10 pm (UTC)(link)
DA. That was literally the first thing I was going to prompt here!

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 01:36 pm (UTC)(link)
Talia/Sherril, experimenting, life lessons...maybe Sherrill wants to clue Talia in about toys.

(Anonymous) 2015-08-11 04:10 am (UTC)(link)
*blink*

*stare*

Yes, please. Why did I never think of this before?

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 01:37 pm (UTC)(link)
Leareth/Vanyel, dreamsex, dream-stalking... (I'm okay if it's dubcon or noncon, but not compulsory.)

(Anonymous) 2015-08-10 02:05 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, this one's hitting me right in the id in the best way. And it's such a logical extension from canon....

Fill: Leareth/Vanyel dream-sex - "His Lover's Claws"

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Monastery AU, seduction, injury - Vanyel/Tylendel or Vanyel/Stefen

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 01:47 pm (UTC)(link)
Instead of sending him to Savil, Withen actually did send Vanyel to a monastery. He's forgotten there for years, until one stormy night an injured stranger arrives at the monastery's gates in need of care. And then they start taking an undue interest in the monk who's nursing them back to health.

I could take this as Van/Lendel or Van/Stef. Bonus points if the monastery has left Van somewhat dehumanised and brainwashed - taken his hair, his name, etc.

FILL: Orders - Threaded comment header

(Anonymous) 2015-08-21 05:25 am (UTC)(link)
Phew, this thing is getting really huge in my doc so I figured I'd make a header to subthread it in and start getting it up!

FILL: Tylendel/Vanyel - Orders - 1/?

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FILL: Tylendel/Vanyel - Orders - 2/?

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Valdir/any, whorefic

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 01:49 pm (UTC)(link)
I'm also okay with Valdir stripping. But don't tell me Vanyel's secret identity never had to go above and beyond to infiltrate someplace or to get information.

Re: Valdir/any, whorefic

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 06:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Are you only interested in fic for this?

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Art: Valdir the reluctant whore, NSFW + dubcon

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The Mage Winds, Iceshadow/Starblade, Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Healing

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 04:42 pm (UTC)(link)
In Winds of Fate, when they’re breaking Starblade free of Mornelithe’s compulsions on him, Iceshadow says that he doesn’t have time for pleasure so he’ll have to use pain, and has Darkwind stab Starblade’s hand so he can use that sensation as a gateway to start unlocking the compulsions. I’d love to get a fill with Starblade’s continued recovery after that first step, with Iceshadow able to take more time and slowly use pleasure instead of pain to ease him through the next phases of his recovery.


(TL;DR, I want Iceshadow/Starblade healing cock)

Gen Fluff - Companions

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 04:43 pm (UTC)(link)
Fluffy cute fic or art of some of the Companions hanging out! Just lazing around Haven, frolicking in the fields, getting into mischief, gossiping about their Heralds, etc :D

Vanyel/Krebain, broken Vanyel magical-murder-robot

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 06:09 pm (UTC)(link)
Lifting straight from this prompt:

I want Vanyel to go with Krebain and spend the next fifteen years as his perverse mind-fucked sex slave, and then the Heralds finally rescue him and he spends five years or whatever still fucked-up and traumatized and wasting away.

With a focus on broken Vanyel being super powerful, and the Heralds not wanting to but needing to use him as a weapon in the war against Karse. And nothing about it being okay. Vanyel hates it, Yfandes hates doing it to him, and he backslides every time he gets used as a war-puppet.

If they have to restrain him because he tries to wander away if they don't, A-fucking-plus.

I'm cool with a story about the people who are trying to help Vanyel even as they use him (Savil, Tantras, Randale, Yfandes, Vanyel's parents if you'd like, Lissa, whoever), or also a slice of life thing about Vanyel being really broken inside and trying so hard to be good for everyone, and never succeeding enough to make them happy.

(Your call on what "Broken!Vanyel means. You want him mute, blind, deaf, crippled, so withdrawn that he's basically catatonic, sexually promiscuous, incapable of making decisions or taking action, in chronic pain, having absence seizures, constantly shaking or whatever, I am going to like that. I mean, all at once is a little extreme, but I know I'd be lunging out of my chair for a spoon to eat that up with, so hey, do it if you want! But those are only suggestions, and I'm probably fine with anything you come up with. :P )

Vanyel + Stefen, Vanyel/Stefen, missing scenes

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 06:59 pm (UTC)(link)
I have maybe read the bandit and kyree scenes near the end of Magic's Price too many times. Yet there wasn't enough explicit comfort for me in the magic wolf caves. So any snippets from there would be much appreciated. Holding, talking, taking steps forward and back, flinching, soothing, adding a little of Vanyel's broken POV, any and all that is very welcome! I'd also be happy if you want to take it to the healing cock place. Anything goes so long as Vanyel gets the comfort I so want him to have.

Van/Stef - getting together

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 08:14 pm (UTC)(link)
What was the party trick of Stef's that impressed Van so much the first time they had sex? (I have a theory, but, go on, surprise me).

Possibly related: On the way back from Forst Reach, Stef thought he might have shocked or offended Vanyel...what had he done with Van that would make him wonder that?

(I'm okay with these being taken as the same prompt or two seprate prompts).

Kero/Shallan/Relli - Fenslash cuddlefucking d/p with toys

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 10:06 pm (UTC)(link)
You know the bit after Kero returns from Karse all exhausted and worn out, and Shallan screams her name in joy because she's alive, and then offers Kero their tent to share?

Yeah, I want angsty grief three-way femslash where Kero's a little uncertain, but cold and tired and longing a little for someone to tell her it's going to be okay, and Shallen and Relli are the same, and somehow Kero ends up getting finger-fucked and taught how to go down on Shallen, and then squirming under both of them while they fuck her with a pair of dildos, strap-on or otherwise.

Kero/Shallan/Relli - Fill - D/P with Toys (1/?)

(Anonymous) 2015-08-16 07:14 pm (UTC)(link)
(Still editing the rest, OP, but have the grief-stricken blankets snuggle!)

The tent was dark, and she wasn’t alone in it. Kerowyn listened to Shallan and Relli’s breathing, slow and even. She was covered from toe to neck in blankets, as many as Relli could find, and finally--at long last--Kerowyn was warm.

She couldn’t sleep.

The Skybolts were--she’d seen gaps everywhere she’d turned, friends gone, their leaders--! Kerowyn squeezed her eyes shut, misery lodging in her heart. She’d lost people before, but she’d never lost so many at once. It was irrational, but she couldn’t believe that she hadn’t known. It was so huge--so--so--

Kerowyn pulled her hand free of her borrowed blankets and dried her eyes with her wrist. She wasn’t a rookie, to be so torn up. She’d get up in the morning and keep on going, the way she always had, so there was no point to this.

“Kero?” Shallan’s whisper was very, very soft. “You awake?”

She sniffled, unable to stop herself. “Yeah,” Kero answered, equally quiet.

“You okay?” Relli asked.

“Yeah,” Kero answered, and it came out wetly, tinged with whining and weeping. Kero grit her teeth and glared at the darkness over her head. She was fine. Tears slipped free of her eyes, trailing from the corners of her eyes toward her ears, and Kero bit her lip to keep in the helpless sob.

The bedrolls on the other side of the tent rustled, both scouts sitting up. There was about a foot between them and her, and Kero could feel the stirring air of their breathing, cool across her tears.

A hand in the darkness, warm even through layers of blankets, patted her stomach uncertainly, then searched for and found her shoulder to grip. “Did you want--” Relli hesitated, the silence filled with the sounds of the world outside. Trees creaking as they swayed in the breeze, dead leaves scraping against each other, the distant muffled snort of someone’s horse.

One of them crawled over her, then swiftly wormed under the layers of blankets on her far side, heedless of the scant space available between Kerowyn’s side and the tent wall. “You’re still cold,” Shallan murmured, inches from Kero’s ear. “Should have said something.”

More blankets were tossed over her, and then Relli joined Shallan, draping herself across Kerowyn’s other side like a friendly barn cat, her hand finding and clasping Shallan’s overtop Kero’s stomach.

“What are you doing?” Kerowyn asked, her voice barely steady. Her chest hurt from the effort, throat swollen and painful. “I’m fine.”

“You’re cold,” Shallan told her, the words brushing softly into the skin of Kero’s neck. “Let us warm you.”

Her body jerked, shaking with a suppressed sob, and their hands pulled apart, both reaching out to wrap around Kero’s too-prominent ribs, Relli and Shallan holding on to her and not saying a damned word about the tears.

“Rest, Kero. You look like a three-day corpse,” Relli said, hooking her leg over Kero’s, grounding her.

Kero’s chest ached, and she let it, silently crying until her tears ran out. Shallan and Relli didn’t talk, still enough that Kero could pretend they were asleep, unaware of the weakness she was showing. The knowledge that they weren’t was terrifying, and Kerowyn didn’t let herself dwell on it.

Later--long enough later that Kero’s face was dry, and she was almost asleep, her thoughts drifting in the shadows of her muted grief--Shallan cleared her throat, murmuring, “You all right?” Stiffly--Kero didn’t think Shallan liked other people’s emotions any more than Kero did--but no one could deny her sincerity.

“Mother hens,” Kero muttered, gratitude on the tip of her tongue. She left it unspoken, shoving over into Relli to give Shallan room to breathe. Kero grabbed Shallan’s arm, used it to tug her in against her side. Shallan fit perfectly between Kero’s side and arm, and she hesitated for only a second before she settled over Kero’s side, her head pillowed on Kero’s chest.

Relli gave a hushed laugh, tossing a thin pillow over Kero’s arm, and sinking down beside her. “Us? Look to yourself, little hen.” She hooked her leg over Kero’s again, and reached over to Shallan, hooking her fingers into the belt loops of her lover’s tunic. Relli’s lips touched the line of Kero’s jaw, and she whispered, “You are home, Kero, and you are safe. We will protect you.”

Kero shivered, the brush of Relli’s mouth below her ear so sweet that it hurt. Eldan--she pushed the thought of him away. This was what love really was. Not bard’s tales, extravagancies, or any foolishness like that. It was in friendship, the kind you only found with your own people. Eldan could never be this to her.

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Vanyel/Stefan, Vanyel Survives, Deus Ex Machina

(Anonymous) 2015-08-09 10:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Because Leareth has a heart attack at how incredibly pretty Vanyel is. And has a magic death spurt that accidentally kills his entire army.

How does Vanyel and Yfandes' return to Stef and Haven go?

FILL: Vanyel Survives/Deus Ex Machina - crack!mini-fill

(Anonymous) 2015-08-30 03:33 am (UTC)(link)
....didn't really hit the return to Haven part. But I got the rest of it?


"The Embodiment of Evil"

--

Vanyel stood alone before the throng of darkness. Panting for breath, pale with exertion, he felt stretched beyond the limits of human ability. He was become something else, something both more and less than the mage he’d been before this battle. He was a dream, a nightmare made flesh to face down the terror from the North.

And the enemy emerged, dressed in darkness, shaped from darkness, a terrible and beautiful midnight with piercing eyes. Leareth. Leareth, with black eyes and cheekbones sharp as daggers, with magic crackling up from his talon-like fingernails, with pure evil emanating from the depths of his shallow soul, with an expression of—

Of utter bewilderment.

“Vanyel Ashkevron,” gasped the embodiment of pure evil. “You are—gods—so beautiful...”

This wasn’t like his dream at all, thought Vanyel. In his dream, Leareth stood strong, immovable and terrifying, an unstoppable force of either. In reality, this was—kind of pathetic?

“You will not take Valdemar,” snarled Vanyel in an attempt to get this back on track.

Leareth clutched at his chest and staggered. “I mean, I knew you were pretty, I’ve seen you from afar, but—this is—”

“Begone, creature of darkness!” screamed Vanyel, throwing a mage-bolt at Leareth’s heart. This was getting incredibly embarrassing; he could feel Yfandes’ amusement rising beside him.

Leareth deflected the mage-bolt with a wave of his hand, but his face still contorted in agony. “So….pretty…” he whispered—and then collapsed onto the ground, twitching.

With each convulsion, a wave of magical destruction burst out of him. Vanyel and Yfandes barely got their shields up in time. The dark army was not so lucky; by the time Leareth fell still, awkward and grotesque upon the snow, every member of the horde lay with him, just as still and just as dead.

Vanyel hesitantly let his shields drop. Nothing happened.

:Well, Chosen,: said Yfandes, with the rare and specific tone of one who is both relieved to be alive but kind of miffed about not getting the chance to fulfill their long-awaited heroic destiny, :I guess it’s time to go back to Haven.:

--

“Vanyel!” cried Stefen, flinging himself into his lover’s arms. The Herald and Companion had met the guard contingent on their way to the battlefield.

Under the astonished gaze of the guard—whether at the sight of the Herald’s return from certain doom or at the sight of two men so entranced with each other—Vanyel embraced him, burying his face in the auburn curls, and felt himself finally relax. “Stefen,” he choked. “Gods, I love you.”

“What happened?” asked Stefen. “How did you defeat him?”

Vanyel considered recounting the truth of the matter, then shuddered, and in that moment made a solemn vow of silence with Yfandes.

“I can’t speak of it,” he said instead, his tears of distress entirely unfeigned. “It was just too horrible.”

Van/Stef, mind control

(Anonymous) 2015-08-10 03:18 am (UTC)(link)
Stef uses his Gift to overwhelm Van with lust and/or to make himself seem totally irresistible. Optional: begging, dirty talk or dirty music, shame/humiliation, orgasm control. Consensual, please - doesn't have to be verbally negotiated in the text, but it has to be there.

Any Companions, support group

(Anonymous) 2015-08-10 06:24 am (UTC)(link)
Because you know they need a space to commiserate when their Chosen are acting like fucking morons.

Re: Any Companions, support group

(Anonymous) 2015-08-10 07:37 am (UTC)(link)
Too true. The poor things -_-

Vedric/Vanyel - emotionally conflicted dubcon seduction

(Anonymous) 2015-08-10 07:37 am (UTC)(link)
Slightly canon-divergent Magic’s Promise AU. Instead of disguising himself as a simple minstrel getting molested in taverns, Vanyel disguises himself as a minstrel or bard to infiltrate Vedric’s household for a month or two to get information. (Let’s pretend he’s able to sufficiently shield himself so Vedric can’t sense his magic.) In the course of this disguise, Vanyel aka Valdir ends up seducing Vedric, and feels horrifically guilty and conflicted and dirty about it because the man looks just like older Tylendel but is also Really Evil.

Bonus dubcon points:
Instead of Vanyel seducing Vedric for information, Vedric comes onto Vanyel first. Vanyel is too scared not to go along with the seduction for fear of breaking his cover as a financially insecure minstrel/Bard

Double bonus dubcon points:
Creepy dirty talk from Vedric about how pretty and vulnerable Vanyel is, his mouth is more useful for sucking cock than singing, etc

Re: Vedric/Vanyel - emotionally conflicted dubcon seduction

(Anonymous) 2015-08-10 04:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Now that is a lovely thought... :D

Nyara gen

(Anonymous) 2015-08-10 03:08 pm (UTC)(link)
At the end of Mage Winds, Nyara gets turned into a more human looking version of herself, without anyone actually asking her if this is what she wants or not. Can I see the aftermath? The confusion about losing her identity and body so suddenly and without warning, and whether she misses her cat features and anything else you can think of!

You can add as much Skif as you want, the book has that throwaway line about how he tells her he'll love her even though she's not exotic anymore, which is all well and good, but I want ALL THE ANGST ANYHOW.

FILL: Nyara post-Mage Winds gen - "Stable"

(Anonymous) 2015-08-18 06:35 am (UTC)(link)
Hi nonny! Hope this works out for you. Nyara doesn't get enough love!

~

"Stable"

~

At last, gryphons and Heralds and Hawkbrothers had dispersed, and Nyara saw a path to escape the series of celebratory embraces. Skif was distracted, talking to one of the Healers; she slipped away without him seeing. She left Need propped up in the salle – though the sword could certainly address her from anywhere she chose, the physical distance gave Nyara the chance to forget that for a while.

She headed for the stables trying desperately not to cry. Or at least, to conceal her tears from the servants and Heralds she passed. So far as she could tell, none had so much as given her a second glance. She was utterly unremarkable, just a pretty girl in foreign garb, and Nyara never would have guessed the invisibility would sting so much. It wasn’t just Skif she was worried about, she realized now. She’d grown enough over the past several months to know that one man’s opinion, however beloved, was not the be-all and end-all of her.

Every man’s opinion, though – and every woman’s – she had finally learned to walk among people, and it was harder than anything she’d ever done before, but she’d done it. Perhaps not very well, but she’d done it her way, as best she could.

And now she had to start all over from a crawl. Her clothing itched against her skin without her soft fur in between.

She nearly took a wrong turn. Her sense of smell had been muffled; she’d almost missed the stables halfway across the grounds. The gardens, which she’d had brief occasion to explore, no longer filled the air with sensual delight. They were brighter, yes, this whole world was colored sharper than the one before, and it hurt to look at. She could scarcely walk straight, and she felt cold and overheated in dizzying turns.

Nyara slipped inside the stable, ducking her head to avoid eye contact with the stable-boy at the door. The lack of smell should have been a relief in here, but she even missed the rich, real scent of horse-droppings. A tall dark bay craned his head over the door of his stall and whickered at her. She froze.

The horse’s lip quivered, and his ears perked forward. He was a fine creature, with kind eyes and glossy coat, a streak of white marking his forehead. According to the brass plate affixed to the door, his name was Jack.

Jack seemed to be a very ordinary sort of horse, and he had whickered at her, still stared at her with expectant eyes. As if she was a very ordinary sort of visitor who might be convinced to procure a treat for him. He wasn’t wary of her, couldn’t smell the corruption in her flesh, couldn’t tell what she was – what she had been, she reminded herself. She stepped closer, enthralled, and reached out her hand. Jack leaned forward and sniffed at her fingers, his whiskers tickling at her bare skin.

Perhaps this was why she’d changed, she thought. Not to make her more seemly in the eyes of the crowd, but to allow her small moments like this.

Nyara felt the tears welling up again. This time she let them fall. She whirled away from the horse and dashed down the aisle, her limbs still quick once she got them moving. Spotting an empty stall, bare of straw and clearly not in use, she skidded a turn and darted inside. She tucked herself tight in the corner behind the door, clapped her hands to her mouth to muffle her sobs.

No longer a Changechild, but she had changed, and would keep changing. Nyara determined, hiccupping, that from now on no mage, sword, or goddess would direct that change. Whatever she was to become, she would become it of her own free will.

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Talia/Dirk /+ Kris, Kris lives AU

(Anonymous) 2015-08-11 04:05 am (UTC)(link)
So Kris survives, and then Talia and Dirk and Kris have to figure out what to do with the fact that Talia and Dirk are lifebonded to each other, but they both still love Kris too. Can this OT3 be saved?

Lavan/Kalira

(Anonymous) 2015-08-11 04:06 am (UTC)(link)
So, um, it's canon, right?

FILL: "Beloved" - Lavan/Kalira, mind-linked masturbation

(Anonymous) 2015-08-21 03:46 pm (UTC)(link)
This probably has as little bestiality as is possible for a fic about a boy and his magic horse. Lavan masturbates while mentally linked to Kalira. Enjoy?



"Beloved"



When he felt the first flush during orienteering class, Lavan assumed it was anger at getting a question wrong. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, counting to five on every inhale and exhale, and found himself balanced enough to continue the lesson without incident. He was rather proud of himself for managing the rage without needing Kalira’s help.

He next felt the warmth during lunch. His face burned, from his cheeks down his next and into his lungs, and wondered what could have provoked the power. He couldn’t have been that angry about having to wait in line for his stew.

The warmth didn’t dissipate this time; it lingered, pooled hot and ticklish under his skin, like he needed to peel off his tunic, shirt, pants, and his damn skin to get at the itching. He shifted in his seat through lunch, fidgeted his way through governance class, and squirmed insufferably through history. By the time he was released for the free hours before dinner, he was sure the entire class could see his red face and sweat-damp hair sticking every which way. He darted out ahead of everyone else and raced to his room.

In the cool, quiet chamber, he had a chance to catch his breath. He hadn’t dared reach out during class, since last time he did the conversation was so distracting that he missed the entire explanation of the last Rethwellan treaty, but now he could call on Kalira for aid. Sitting on the edge of his bed, scratching again at the back of his skull, he ventured, Kalira, my lovely?

She took a moment before responding, and her mental connection seemed more tightly controlled than usual. All that came through was her voice, and a faint affection. :Lan! How were classes?:

I don’t much know, he admitted. I couldn’t really pay attention.

He expected a rush of disapproval; instead, he felt only concern in her next query. :Was something wrong? Are you unwell?:

Lavan combed his hair back again. I don’t know. I guess. I’ve been feeling—itchy, all day. Here— He loosened his hold on his emotions and let her feel what he was feeling, the flush of discomfort, the slow-simmering heat.

:Oh,: said Kalira. She sounded almost—guilty? That couldn’t be.

Oh? Lavan echoed. Yes, she was projecting guilt, and embarrassment, two emotions he hadn’t often felt from her. He was left desperately curious. Lavan scooted further onto his narrow trainee’s bed to lean against the wall.

:That—that may be my fault, beloved,: admitted Kalira. She projected an image of herself off in a far, lonely corner of the Companion’s field, out past the Grove, hanging her head in shame. :I’ve been feeling a bit—lively—all day, and you must have caught the edge of that.:

Lively? He tugged at his collar, feeling even warmer.

:You know, restless. Energetic. Stimulated.: When her series of synonyms failed to spark Lavan’s understanding, she shared a mental sigh with him. :All right, randy! I’ve been randy all day.:

He laughed, surprising the both of them. Well, that would certainly explain it. Oh, that makes sense! You could have just said.

:You don’t mind? I thought I’d shielded you away enough, I never wanted to make you uncomfortable.:

Lavan was thoroughly unused to this sort of bashfulness from her, and he responded as gently as he could. You’re young, you’re beautiful, of course you feel randy from time to time! And I don’t mind. Well, I mind a bit that you worked so hard to keep it from me. I was very confused all day. Perhaps he ought to be a bit more concerned that his Companion’s emotions were bleeding into him like this, but he couldn’t really find the heart to care. This was Kalira, the most beloved friend he’d ever had, who loved him more than anyone else ever would, more than anyone else ever could. Nothing of hers could ever bother him.

:You’re so good to me, beloved.:

I know, he sent, chuckling out loud. And his mind hit on a new idea, something he hadn’t exactly considered before, but his belly was warming with an odd impatience, and he couldn’t think of any reason not to try it out. Grinning, he sat up straight and tugged his gray tunic up and over his head, then tossed it to the floor. He felt more comfortable already, and yet more comfortable when he’d also kicked off his boots. Kalira, love, dinner’s not for another hour. Open up to me?

Kalira hesitated, but evidently couldn’t resist his earnest entreaty. He caught a vision of her looking around, checking that she was alone, and then she opened up a tightly shielded line connecting just to him.

The sudden wave of arousal left him breathless. If he felt warm and itchy before, now he burned from spine to fingertips, couldn’t hold still, couldn’t hold back his moan. All the blood rushed from his head to his hips, his nipples tightened, two beads of raw nerves rubbing against his cotton shirt. He still wore shirt and trousers; he wore far too much. And if he was about to jump out of his skin, what of poor Kalira? He was about ready to burst even with just the borrow reflection of her passion.

But he thought he could make it up to her.

He bit his lip in concentration and dropped his mental shields completely. He didn’t yet know how to open just a directed line, but she instinctively stepped in to reestablish a shield that allowed them to only feel each other. Lavan concentrated on his own body, his racing heartbeat, his swelling cock, his overwhelming love for her. He fumbled at the laces of his shirt; as he pulled it off, he sent, Is this all right?

:Yes!: she answered immediately. Sent an image of herself trembling, ears back and eyes closed.

Lavan groaned and flopped back on the bed, fixed his gaze on the bare white ceiling. For whatever reason he felt ashamed to look at the beautiful earth-tone tapestries his mother had given him for the walls. The ceiling was safe, and anyway, his mind was far away from this tiny room. He ran his fingers down his chest, down his quivering stomach, and he unbuttoned his trousers with far more dexterity than he would have imagined himself capable of at the moment. He lifted his hips and pushed trousers and underclothes down, left them tangled around his knees. Kicking them off would mean too much time before settling back down, tracing a line like fire up his thigh, and closing his hand around his cock.

He bucked up into his hand. He had never been so turned on, so desperate, in all his sixteen years. Closing his eyes, as Kalira’s eyes were closed, they were caught together in a hot, hungering darkness all their own. As his hand moved, he felt not only his pleasure but her as well ascending, felt his own lust echoing again in her, every sensation was multiplied and amplified. Lavan flung one palm over his mouth to try and muffle his own whimpers—how thin were these walls?—but soon enough it ceased to matter. His hand fell away to clutch at the bedspread and he could no longer tell whether he made any noise at all. All he could hear was his own heartbeat, and hers, beating together in torrid harmony across the palace grounds.

I love you, he slurred silently, fingertips brushing the head of his cock, running down along a pulsing vein, and back up again. He tightened his hand and started pumping a faster rhythm. Oh—gods!—I love you.

:Beloved,: she sent, a crescendo of ecstasy. :Beloved, Chosen, Lan!:

And on that, he couldn’t even think of holding back, his hand stilled, hips jerked up, and he released over his stomach with a shaking cry.

He could almost hear Kalira whinnying out loud as well, her voice ringing in his ears as they came down from the high together.

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