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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!


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

Discussion Post | Mod Call Post | Resources Post


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)


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.

From: (Anonymous)
This is getting a bit longer than anticipated, so I figured I'd start posting! No porn in this part yet, but it's coming ;)


Legs shaking, Vanyel slowly lowered himself into the secluded hot spring. He was alone and didn’t bother suppressing the wince as the hot water stung against scrapes and bruises. He’d spent the day out on patrol with Moondance, then faced off against both Savil and Starwind for a grueling combination of physical and magical drills. His head still rang a bit from imperfectly deflecting some of the later mage-bolts—he knew he hadn’t been working at his best, and he was paying the price in aches and pains.

Out on patrol, Moondance had mentioned in passing that of course Vanyel would have to leave k’Treva soon. The casual words had struck Vanyel like a lash to the face, though he knew better than to let it show. Moondance would want to talk over the slightest hint of unease—a whole lot of talking and not much listening to Vanyel, to be honest—and would end up prescribing a heaping dose of well-meaning advice.

It would probably even be good advice, Vanyel admitted to himself in the safety of the green-wreathed spring. He just didn’t particularly want any advice at the moment.

He’d always known he’d have to return to Haven eventually. For the past month, he’d even known that preparations ought to be starting soon; he was about as trained as he was liable to get without starting actual Heraldic duties like riding circuit. And he was about as recovered as he was ever liable to get from Krebain’s attack, and Tylendel’s—

But Moondance’s words had removed the abstraction from the concept. Vanyel wasn’t sure whether the return to Haven or the departure from k’Treva Vale filled him with deeper trepidation. Whether he most feared having to prove himself against suspicion or having to leave the strange comfort of this oasis. And he didn’t quite feel up to figuring that out yet.

Instead, he’d chosen to soak his troubles away in a hot spring rather off the beaten path, tucked away near the edge of the Vale border some distance past his borrowed ekele. When Moondance had pronounced him recovered enough from his various trials to live alone, he’d been offered use of a low-slung ekele away from the busy center of the vale. Vanyel had gladly accepted; though he’d been tentatively making some acquaintances among them, he still found the Tayledras overwhelming at times. They were at once more aloof and far friendlier than the people of Valdemar.

Vanyel was starting to like them all well enough—he envied the freedom with which they carried themselves. He wasn’t sure, however, that any k’Treva besides Starwind and Moondance actually liked him.

But he’d come to the pool to stop thinking, he chided himself. Vanyel closed his eyes and leaned back against the warm stone edge, so the water lapped beneath his chin. The heat sank slowly through him, loosened his sore muscles, eased the tension between his shoulderblades.

He drowsed, succumbing to the caress of water and steam, until he heard voices approaching along the path.

Vanyel flinched, mind alert on reflex, but in a moment he relaxed. He recognized some of the voices—Nightraven’s low, sardonic tones; Summerwing’s bright laughter; and the others must be more of their group of scouts. Vanyel had spent some time out in the wilds with them, learning to track and hide in the changeling forest, and if he had more time to spend he thought they might have become friends.

If they cared to befriend a scrawny outClan mage, of course. Vanyel sat up on the ledge, so the water only came up to his sixth rib, and slung his arms up along the rim. He had to resist the urge to cross his arms, curl up small in the water. He was still unused to Hawkbrothers’ open-minded approach to nudity.

The group of scouts, led by Nightraven, paused when they rounded the corner and saw him. There were five of them, all in various states of dishevelment—they must be newly off patrol.

“Well, if it isn’t Vanyel k’Valdemar,” said Summerwing with a grin. His hair, dyed gold and brown, swung in a long plait over his shoulder. “Mind if we join you, wingbrother?

“Go ahead,” said Vanyel, drawing his arms back under the water. He tilted his head back and looked up at the interwoven greenery. The patterns shifted with the wind and glowed with sunlight, enough of a distraction from the sounds of five Hawkbrothers stripping down.

Nightraven slipped into the water first, directly across from Vanyel—who couldn't help a glance at the lean tan-gold limbs and sculptured abdomen. Though only in his mid-twenties, Nightraven was widely rumored to be next in line once the current scout leader stepped down.

The other scouts settled into place around him; pale-eyed, distant Frostfall on his left, russet-skinned Summerwing on his right. Summerwing sat rather close to Nightraven, and Vanyel would have sworn their legs touched under the water. He didn't know what that might mean--they could be shay'a'chern, sure, or just very close friends. Tayledras social norms were very confusing.

Skywolf sank in next to Summerwing, on Vanyel's left. The youngest of the group, just a few years older than Vanyel, and not much taller. He wore his mid-brown hair loose and shaggy down to his shoulders. He glanced at Nightraven as he sat, as if asking permission, but Nightraven didn't seem to notice.

Riverdream completed the circle, settling in between Vanyel and Frostfall. He was dark-skinned and dark-haired, as soothing a presence as his name would suggest.

Skywolf asked, “So what were you up to today, Vanyel? You look about as beat up as we do.”

That opened an easy enough conversation, and Vanyel found himself swiftly drawn into a trading of the day’s stories. They winced in sympathy when he outlined his parries with Starwind; he returned the gesture when Summerwing stretched to reveal the bruises along his ribs. As they talked, Vanyel slowly forgot his self-consciousness, forgot to compare his pale, thin limbs to Frostfall’s broad shoulders, his dark-circled eyes to Riverdream’s clear gaze and aquiline features. Skywolf asked him again to recount the time he slew the Colddrake, and this time when he told the tale, it didn’t hurt at all.

In a quiet moment, Nightraven leaned back and said, “So.” The late afternoon sun caught along the golden angles of his face. He dyed his hair so deep a brown it seemed almost a mottled black, braided tightly back. “Moondance says you and Wingsister Savil won’t be roosting with us much longer.”

Oh. Vanyel's heart sank with the reminder. He summoned up a shaky grin. "That's right," he said. "Duty calls, and we can't hide away up here forever."

"It's too bad," said Riverdream. "We'll miss having the both of you around."

Vanyel steadied his smile, but looked away. That was kind of him to say, but he didn’t—

"He doesn't believe us," said Nightraven, lips quirking—as close to a smile as he ever got.

Skywolf frowned. "Why not?" he demanded of Nightraven. When he received only a indolent shrug, he turned to Vanyel, leaning close to look sternly in the younger boy's eyes. "Of course we'll miss you, little goose."

Vanyel felt himself blushing, and awkwardly pushed his hair back behind his ear. Being dragged so directly from a sulk was not something he was used to--and was he imagining it or was Skywolf leaning awfully close? "Thanks," he managed. "That's very kind of you."

"Nothing kind about it," said Frostfall. "You cleared out the Colddrake queen and that ass Krebain, and you're damn useful on regular patrol."

Summerwing laughed. "And you give Starwind and Moondance something to focus on besides each other. Honestly, I was getting sick of them being so insufferably lifebonded all over the place."

"You sing really well at gatherings too," chimed in Skywolf.

Nightraven rolled his eyes at that, but Vanyel found himself oddly cheered. He barely knew these men, but they seemed to genuinely like him. Perhaps even beyond the obligations of wingbrothership. "Thanks," he repeated. "I'd assumed I was more of a burden than anything else, really."

Riverdream reached out and touched his shoulder. His golden eyes seemed to glow against his dark skin. He said softly, "We're all burdens from time to time, Vanyel. As things go, you've been a light one." His fingertips lingered, trailing down his arm and under the water before pulling away.

Skywolf reached to touch his other shoulder, then wet warm fingers along his jaw were turning him back to face the young scout. "A very cute burden too," said Skywolf, grinning like the sun, and suddenly his lips were soft on Vanyel's, soft and sweet and true, and Vanyel's eyelids shuttered in the moment of bliss.
From: (Anonymous)
aaaah this is looking very sweet indeed. Van's insecurity is so cute. I hope Skywolf hasn't terrified Van too much? I mean, his last kiss was from Krebain...
From: (Anonymous)
Thanks, nonny! And yeah, the poor kid isn't really used to casual far it's been "women he's not attracted to," "true pure forever soulmate," and "sexual predator blood Mage furry."

I'm -trying- to keep it less angsty for this prompt, though, so he won't get too scared :)
From: (Anonymous)
Awww, this is adorable! I really like the idea of a lot of Hawkbrothers showing Van that he's worthy of friendship, in a naked hot spring, with some kisses. I look forward to seeing where this is going!
From: (Anonymous)
I kinda want to change the title of this, oops. Will wait until I repost to AO3 though, I guess. There'll probably be about three more parts after this!


A low chuckle reminded Vanyel of his audience, and the blood drained from his face. He broke away from Skywolf's grasp to stare in shock at the other scouts. He wanted to sink into the steam and water and disappear into the hot stone beneath. Could they tell how ashamed he was? Could they tell how—how hard he was, from just one kiss? They all had to think he was a fool, a slut. They all--

They all looked incredibly unsurprised. Summerwing had cuddled up under Nightraven's arm, and both watched the proceedings across the hot spring with a guarded sort of hunger. Nightraven in particular had the air of a hawk poised to dive.

Frostfall was as inscrutable as always; Riverdream looked from face to face with an air of careful assessment. He moved not a muscle, as if waiting for someone else to make the first move.

Well, the second move—Skywolf had clearly taken care of the first. The younger scout hummed, a small pleased sound. "I'm sorry, Vanyel, you just looked so sad," he said cheerfully. "I couldn't help myself."

"You're not sorry at all," muttered Nightraven in the background.

Unperturbed, Skywolf asked, "Can I kiss you again?"

Vanyel found himself desperate to say yes. He hadn’t—not since—and this was so very irregular—but the irregularity was, perhaps, why he felt he could accept. These were acquaintances at worst, casual friends at best. Anything that happened in the dizzying steam of the hot spring was no hidden secret, but a bond shared between the six of them. He was not betraying—

“All right,” said Vanyel, heart racing, color rushing back to his cheeks.

Skywolf leaned in again and this time Vanyel leaned up into him as well. As their lips met there was a low whistle of appreciation, and Vanyel flushed, but he had to admit that the attention was flattering. He may be a burden, but he could at least be a pretty one.

Skywolf kissed eagerly, tongue tracing along Vanyel’s lips, along his teeth. He drew back to nip lightly before again deepening the kiss. Vanyel tried to meet his enthusiasm but found himself merely swept along for the ride, and he didn’t know when his own hands had lifted to grasp at Skywolf’s shoulders. Tendrils of shaggy hair traced wetly along the backs of his hands.

Feather touch on his own shoulder, then hands splaying wide across his back, like wings, and Riverdream murmured in his ear, “Tell me if you need us to stop, to slow. I’ll catch you.”

Vanyel pulled away from Skywolf long enough to gasp his assent before the young scout was sucking bruises onto his collarbone and Riverdream’s lips slid soft along the back of his neck. Vanyel’s words were lost in a low moan. Hands everywhere, stroking down his forearms, under the water and along his ribs, Vanyel felt he should be touching too but he couldn’t think, all he could do was clutch at Skywolf’s shoulders and lose himself in the caresses. He was safe in their hands.

Hands—Riverdream’s—curling around his hipbone and his cock, tightening, holding him still as he tried bucking into the gentle grasp.

He heard a faint splashing, as if from a great distance, and a low murmur followed by quiet laughter. Moments later, Summerwing was there, sliding between him and Skywolf, who made room with a pout. Summerwing stared down into Vanyel’s eyes a moment, weighing him, but thankfully asked nothing because Vanyel was light and high as a cloud on the wind and could only have stuttered in response.

Then Summerwing bent down slightly, and in a flurry of motion that left Vanyel even dizzier than before he scooped Vanyel up with him, lifted him up with strong hands under his thighs. He held the boy up and out of the water while he kissed up from the bruises, along his jaw, met his mouth with all the warmth of an old lover. Their cocks pressed hot together between their bellies, and Vanyel felt himself rocking, trembling into the touch, arching his back. He feared spilling already but couldn’t keep himself still.

A shifting movement, Summerwing set him down on the edge of the spring. The rock was slick and hard beneath him, the air cold against his wet back. Vanyel looked up into Summerwing’s dark eyes again, arms falling back to brace himself on the wet stone, and he was suddenly aware of his entire body, out of the water, naked to their eyes. On display, the water running from the ends of his hair, shining along his chest, gilding his thighs. His cock, pink and wet and hard, a slight twitch even as he contemplates his exposure.

A quick glance around the pool confirms they are all staring at him. Frostfall from his spot across the water, Skywolf and Riverdream from either side, and Nightraven has come up to leer from over Summerwing’s shoulder, running his fingers along his friend’s—his lover’s, Vanyel realized, though they didn’t wear feathers—shoulder, down his arm. Under Nightraven’s caresses, Summerwing renewed his own forays. Vanyel bit his lip to suppress a gasp as Summerwing touched him, on the waist, outside his thighs, behind the knees, at first soft, then firm, seeking permissions Vanyel couldn’t remember granting, his waist again, lower, up the inner thighs. Vanyel trembled, breath shallow, as Summerwing finally knelt down on the bench underwater.

“All right?” asked Nightraven.

Yes,” Vanyel groaned. “Gods, yes,” he breathed, as Summerwing’s tongue circled around the head of his cock. Slow wet kisses pressed along the vein underneath. One hand pinned his hip in place; the other circled the base of his cock. Stroked up and down, slick with water and spit, as tongue and smile moved lower, licked at his balls—Vanyel closed his eyes, flung a hand up to his mouth to muffle his cry.

Someone pulled his hand away and replaced it with a kiss, firm and demanding before receding. Vanyel opened his eyes to find Nightraven’s predatory smirk. He moaned as Summerwing’s mouth returned to its slow acquaintanceship with his cock, eyelids fluttering closed again, and this time he was unsurprised when Nightraven again claimed his mouth.

He forgot the others watching, forgot his bruises, forgot his worries as pleasure raced hot through his veins, spiking sweet in his lower abdomen. Nightraven held his jaw still, he couldn’t pull away if he wanted to. Vanyel reached down to touch Summerwing’s hand on his hip, his tight-flexed forearm, to touch his head, and his fingers met Nightraven’s already tangled in Summerwing’s long hair.

Their fingers twined together and Summerwing seemed to redouble his efforts at their goading. He bobbed faster along Vanyel’s cock, taking in a fraction more with every pass.

Vanyel couldn’t see past Nightraven, but he felt Summering shifting between his thighs. Fingers left his cock, traced down around his balls—pressed behind them at the same instant as Summerwing took Vanyel’s entire cock all the way down his tight throat. Vanyel whined, seeing stars, his whole body impossibly hot, tight, almost—

Summerwing’s quiet choking sound sent Vanyel over the edge and he spilled down the scout’s throat, twitching, spilled into his mouth as Summerwing pulled back off of him. He couldn’t breathe, gasped for breath against Nightraven’s lips, couldn’t say whether or not he cried out because all he could hear was his own thudding heartbeat.

His own heartbeat, and Skywolf’s gleeful undertone: “Oh, he looks good like that.”

As Summerwing straightened and stood from his position between his legs, Vanyel looked up through his eyelashes at the surrounding Hawkbrothers. Had they all drawn closer? He could hardly imagine what he must look like—face flushed, collarbone bruised, hair doubtless sticking every which way—arms trembling and cock softening against his thigh. Riverdream was slipping back into the hot spring, and Vanyel hadn’t even noticed him leave.

“Skywolf may be an idiot, but he’s not always wrong,” said Nightraven, tipping Vanyel’s chin up to look him in the eyes. He reached out his other hand and Riverdream pressed a small object into his palm. “You look very good. And now that we’ve taken the edge off, the fun can really get started.”
From: (Anonymous)
This is damn hot, nonnie. I love Van's whole bashful thing - he is so in denial about how much he loves being the centre of attention here :P Just getting started, huuuh?


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