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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 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?


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.
From: (Anonymous)
(not OP)


I have been eyeing this prompt, and thinking that if it got filled, it would probably be on the cracky side. But that was actually hot. I loved that it was Kalira who was embarrassed, not Lavan. All the emotion, the attention to the technical details about shielding, linking, etc. And I feel like I can totally slot this right into canon.
From: (Anonymous)
LMAO I'm glad it works for you! I was working on another fill and all of a sudden I knew I actually needed to be writing this one. I'm not sure what it says about me that this was so easy and quick to write....

But yeah, Lan seems to take everything to do with Kalira completely in stride. Nobody even tells him they're life bonded, he probably thinks all Herald-Companion bonds are like this -_-
From: (Anonymous)

Oh, well done! You've got the connection between Lavan and Kalira, and you've written a story in which their actual body types... are part of the story, but don't matter so much. It's a convincing take on what a lifebond between a human and a sentient horse could look like, and it's just creepy enough to work for poor messed-up Lavan and Kalira.
From: (Anonymous)

"Convincing" is possibly the highest possible phrase for this sort of story, haha. Thank you! And thank you for the prompt -- it was definitely something new for me, but I'd just reread Brightly Burning and I ended up having a lot of fun writing this :)


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