#Valdemar AU

[shadowsong26fic]

Consort

Author: shadowsong26

Rating: PG-13

Fandom: Star Wars/Heralds of Valdemar crossover

Characters: Anakin, Padme, Obi-Wan

Warnings: Implied sex.

Summary: Padme’s wedding night, in the Jedi of Valdemar AU.

Disclaimer: All characters are the property of their respective creators.

Notes: Written for the Year of the OTP event. May prompt: fantasy/medieval/dark knights of steel AU.

Most of the Jedi of Valdemar AU can be found here on AO3; I’ve also posted some other snippets/worldbuilding notes/etc. on tumblr.

(I am also doing this for BSG and some of my original ‘verses, if you’re interested in checking those out! One ship per canon. The fanfic ones will be posted to AO3 probably a day or two after they’re on tumblr. This fic is also available on AO3 here. Master list of all fills can be found here.)

Padme was a Herald as much as she was Queen, and a Herald always did her duty. And that meant having a legal heir, through a legal marriage to one man--possibly even a stranger, if it was necessary to buy peace on one of her borders.

Or within them.

But, fortunately, there were no likely eligible princes outside of Valdemar; and of the available men who had sided with Dooku during the recent unrest, none of them could be satisfied this way.

None of the ones she’d be willing to trust that close to her, anyway.

Which meant she was free to marry according to her heart--a relief, she knew, to her Council, which had been encouraging her to make any choice for years now.

And it was probably for the best; she thought--she hoped--she could have tolerated marriage to someone other than either of her lifebonded partners, but it would have been. Difficult. To say the very least.

Which was the other problem.

The other Heralds knew, of course, that she and Obi-Wan and Anakin were that rarest of things, a lifebonded triad. But the Heralds were not the only people to whom she was accountable, and while there were a few religious sects in the Kingdom who permitted polygamy, most of Valdemar would not tolerate a bigamist Queen.

So, for today, for the grand spectacle and the ceremony, for the man who would actually hold the title of King or Prince Consort, she had had to choose.

It hadn’t been a difficult choice, really. While both were Heralds and so either could be crowned, neither of her boys especially wanted to be King. But Obi-Wan’s talents ran so strongly in that direction that he would feel obligated to accept the crown as her Co-Consort. Anakin, on the other hand, could get away with the lesser title of Prince Consort, in his own eyes, and in the eyes of the rest of the Circle and the Court. He still might be King someday, if they changed their minds (or if he outlived her), but no one would feel he had to.

But that was for today. That was for her duty, and her people, and the Valdemar she and her partners served.

For tonight…

Tonight there was no glittering ceremony; there was no priest; there was no legal seal.

But there was a vow.

And this, as far as she was concerned, was her true marriage. The three of them, exchanging promises in the dark; the feeling of Obi-Wan’s beard against her cheek he kissed her; Anakin’s breath warm in her ear as, even one-handed, he deftly unlaced the back of her gown.

The gods witnessed them; they witnessed each other; they consummated this marriage together.

Anakin might be her official, legal husband. She might have had to make a choice, for duty’s sake. And she was a Herald as much as she was a Queen, and a Herald always did her duty.

But where it really, truly counted, in her eyes and her mind and her heart, Queen Padme of Valdemar married both of them that day.

[soullessseraphim]

They're playing The Mortuary Assistant

inspired by + outfit/headset design : this

[vlgrlrd]

the m e m e

pretty old one, but I still like it

[mortemlarva]

It was the worst period of suffocating silence in my life, but I'm trying to put the train back on track, so…

Here's the Chef of Neurosurgery Dr. Valdemar in modern AU

according to these headcannons: https://www.tumblr.com/urfavfandomles/190764222449/more-modern-au-chief-of-neurosurgery?source=share

[liusia-piu]

[snobgoblin]

I think for the 60s au I'm gonna take inspiration from the 1930s for the courtiers to kind of drive home the fact that they're kind of ancient and have trouble keeping up with trends (the 1930s specifically because I found things from that time period that could correspond to the four horsemen)

[fangirl-erdariel]

One thing with Musketeers that still makes me sad is that the s3 didn't really carry through with the friendship between Constance and Treville that it set up in the first episode.

I mean, come on. Constance throwing Treville's old jacket at him and dragging him along to mischief and knocking the Red Guard down a peg? Treville putting up a very token protest that both of them clearly know is nothing more than a formality, a part of a pattern they have to play for this?

Like, that's just. That's not just "we're acquaintances because we care about the same people (who are currently off at war and who knows what will happen to them) and work together because it's in our common interests" level thing. it's just not. it may have started like that, four years before, but it sure as fuck is friendship now

and then the show just. drops that. doesn't do anything with that in their other interactions that season

and idk i know the focus of the show is on the boys and what they get up to, but i'm sure you would have had time for at least a couple more moments of that?

speaking of dropped character dynamics, i also wish s3 had done more with Constance and Anne's friendship established in s2

[greyspirehollow]

MURDER AT THE HOSPITAL Prologue

Warnings : swearing ; description of a corpse ; mentions of blood, illnesses, corpses ; medical terminology ; hospital stuff ; I may have not listed it all, viewer discretion is advised

I would rate this chapter and the overall fic 16 +

It was a day like any other for everyone at Vesuvia’s hospital. What days aren’t like the usual ones, anyway? Sure, there were busier days sometimes, but occurrences such as plane crashes and building fires were… Rare. One can’t say there often were such big scales urgencies in the city. It could even be deemed calm by some.

Julian Devorak sat at his desk, as usual, observing the familiar red cells of someone’s bloodstream under his microscope. They looked healthy and so he moved onto the next sample. And the next after that... It had almost become a routine at this point ; it looked like no one’s blood had fallen ill these past months, except for the few cases of AIDS here and there. In the end, it was fairly calm to occupy the position of hematologist – the doctor could sit in the lab for hours undisturbed. He wished more people would come by sometimes though, whether it be Portia or literally anyone else… Unbeknownst to him, his quiet plea would be answered soon. But not in the way he’d expect.

The harsh knock on his lab door made him whip around with a slightly startled gasp. In his doorway stood a literal red-haired police officer, with a file containing a few papers in hand through which they flipped. They had an annoyed frown on their face as they spoke up, almost harshly : “Dr. Devorak?”

Julian blinked, slightly confused. “Uhm- yes, that would be me…”

The officer closed the file with a small ‘slam’ “I’m going to need you to come with me to the station.”

His heart sank to his stomach, a feeling of dread washing over him “what? Why?” he asked, before he could stop himself, earning a slight huff from the officer in front of him “Guess I should probably tell you… Someone called us ; a corpse has been found in the morgue”

The color drained from the doctor’s face, the feeling of dread only intensifying “..wh… what…?”

The officer scoffed “what, you’re our culprit?” they chuckled, their frown turning into a mischievous grin “would make my job a hell of a lot easier.”

They then sighed and signed him to follow them as they turned around and walked down the white corridors “I gotta interrogate you regardless.” Judging by their tone, Julian guessed that this was something they weren’t looking forward to.

He walked right behind the officer in complete silence, too distracted to notice the other officers wandering the hospital’s corridors, or even how the one who was accompanying him was much shorter than him. He fidgeted nervously with his fingers, then put his hands in the pockets of his labcoat, then crossed his arms, then bit his lip… He was a nervous mess ; but there was one question he couldn’t help but ask : “can I see it?”

The officer stopped in their tracks and turned around, frowning still “what?”

“Can I … see it?” Julian repeated, slightly nervous. The red-haired officer sighed heavily and rolled their eyes “Why? It’s just a dead body. I’m not even sure you’re allowed to see it just yet. I’ll show you pictures in the interrogation room anyway.”

Julian hesitated. Should he really insist? The doctor tried his best, but ultimately, his curiosity won over “I just… It’s the hospital I work in, you know? I… I want to see what’s going on.”

The officer mulled over the question, crossing their seemingly chubby arms. In the end they grunted and walked in the opposite direction, expecting Julian to follow “Fine ! But no pictures, and don’t you dare touch anything or talk about it to anyone just yet!”

They were surprisingly quick for their short stature, their steps determined and confident. Despite his long strides, even Julian had a bit of a hard time keeping up with them. The closer they got to the morgue, the more he saw police officers : some talking to staff, others taking notes, and he saw one or two chatting among themselves over a snack. He couldn’t help but notice how much their uniforms stood out compared to the hospital’s white floors and corridors, as if none of them belonged here at all… But then, whatever was happening seemingly didn’t belong in the hospital either anyway. The red-haired officer’s words cut off his train of thoughts : “You ever seen a cadaver before?”

Julian blinked and shook his head “Uhm- yes, if you can call them that. I used to work in the army as a doctor, and well… Some of them didn’t make it” surprisingly enough, the frown on their face softened slightly “Oh? You must’ve seen some dirty shit back there.” Julian nodded “I guess so. But why, what’s waiting for us- I mean… what’s in the morgue exactly?” the officer’s nose scrunched up and they frowned again “Something nasty.” they only said, as both of them walked past the first yellow tape.

The red-haired officer gestured Julian to take a look in the morgue, although instructed him not to trespass the other yellow tape, as the scientific police was working. The doctor agreed and walked up to one of the storing room’s open doors, but without going past the threshold, as he was told. Bile rose to his throat as he saw one of the compartments open, a decayed body laid on the table. Its empty orbits seemed to stare at the scientists working around it, and that sent a shiver down Julian’s spine. Its flesh looked like it’d been burnt, with its dark black-ish, burgundy, brown shades and moldy looking texture. If it weren’t for the smell, he probably would’ve looked for a little longer. He turned around and took a deep breath to calm down, while the red-haired officer raised an eyebrow at him. Not wanting to look like a fool, Julian then focused his attention on the actual live people around the corpse. How did they look so undisturbed...? Was it their gear? Surely not, even the mask couldn’t completely block out the smell of rotten flesh. He looked as they picked at the corpse with tweezers, putting pieces of decayed flesh into test tubes, using q-tips to rub some surfaces and also putting them into test tubes, accompanied by the regular sound of the camera occasionally taking pictures of the gruesome scene.

Eventually however, one of the scientists came close to him and the red-haired officer, leaning against the door frame. His deep dark brown eyes caught Julian’s attention : it’s not often that you can witness irises that are nearly all black… The scientist in question began speaking :

“So ! From the looks of it I’d say the body is at least a year old. It’s been underground for a long time too, considering the copious amount of dirt onto it – I’ll send samples to the lab and then we can go check the site it was probably in. on? whatever – what else… Yeah, there doesn’t seem to be any signs of clothing or personal belongings on it at all, so either it has decomposed already or it was removed before the body was buried. I’d be ready to bet it was in a forest, or near water because the dirt is really humid.”

The red-haired officer nodded along, although still looking annoyed. Julian’s jaw hung slightly slack ; none of this felt real just yet. He felt as if he’d been knocked out and woken up into a TV show and to be frank, he was afraid of the part he’d have to play here. It’s then that the scientist addressed him “and who’s that?” he asked. Julian could guess a smile behind his mask. “Dr. Devorak.” The officer answered “from what the staff said, he’s one of the last few who went into the morgue.” Julian shivered as he remember that yes, he actually had been one of the last few into the morgue. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he tried giving a smile to the other man in front of him – who also happened to be shorter, but still taller than the officer.

“Really ? So just like that, this tall auburn guy is our prime suspect?” the scientist teased, although Julian really felt nervous at that. His mouth opened to respond but the officer spoke before he could “Only our third. The first one is Dr. Valdemar.” Julian’s heart dropped again at that. Things had gotten so much worse so quickly- He could swear he was sweating.

“Who? Where are they?” The scientist asked curiously, trying to look past their shoulders “Couldn’t get my hands on them. They’re in surgery” the red-haired officer replied, rolling their eyes “And either way,, you’re enough trouble on your own ! I’m not introducing you to each other- I don’t need two freaks on my back during the investigation, thank you!” they said, their voice raising slightly, almost scolding the scientist, while the latter raised his hands in surrender with a chuckle. Julian couldn’t help but be curious about that statement, but then if the officer compared that scientist to Valdemar… Maybe he didn’t really want to know more.

He looked back at the other man as he left the room, walking past the yellow tape. He removed his mask and the hood of his white overcoat, and the doctor couldn’t help his heart from doing a little jump in his chest. He was cute. He really was. His short curly black hair kind of reminded him of Asra’s fluffy own, and his black eyes were slightly accentuated by very discreet eyebags, which he hadn’t noticed when the mask was still on. He smiled at him. Oh gods he smiled at him. Julian cleared his throat and re-adjusted his standing position, trying to look nonchalant. That seemed to earn a chuckle out of the scientist. The man approached and removed one of his gloves, reaching out a hand : “Name’s Liam” he said cheerfully. Julian replied in kind shaking his hand. Liam couldn’t help but notice how they were larger than his own as the doctor spoke : “Julian. Julian Devorak.” Liam nodded ; “Nice to meet you. So, one of our suspects, huh?” he teased. Julian shook his head. “I can assure you I am not the reason that corpse is here” Liam chuckled “tsk. Too bad ; I would’ve loved to know what your thought process for this was.” ...what? Julian gave an awkward chuckle. Liam clapped his hands together “well ! We’ll probably cross paths again but I really have to go ; the lab needs the samples” and with that, he waltzed away. Julian was left utterly confused. He’d rarely felt his brain and heart fight so much… On the one hand, Liam was… How to say it… He shouldn’t be so cheerful around a decaying corpse. That aspect reminded Julian too much of Valdemar. On the other hand… With him it was cute. He was cute. He had a little air of mischief about him and, he couldn’t deny it, Julian found it endearing. He was pulled out of his daze by the heavy sigh of the red-haired police officer who was still standing next to him. “Just forget him. He’s always like that. Rambling about dirt and maggots as if it was his favorite little thing” they exaggerated a shudder, before nudging Julian’s shoulder forward “back to what we were doing !” “r-r-right ! Apologies” Julian said, as he and the officer resumed their walk out of the hospital and towards the police station.

Author's note : feedback is highly appreciated !! especially about the overall writing and what kind of warnings there should be,, or the rating

[sunibits]

It’s been a while since I drew any blacklight madness stuff

featuring Valdemar sketches bc i love them sm

[unimaginativebepisenjoyer99]

kitty courtiers

[angeledeggs]

I might just spontaneously combust if you answer but may I please request a Soulmate Au with our favorite incomprehensible Horror, Valdemar?

Of course! Valdemar has always been my favorite character from the arcana, after all, I love them so much. I decided to write with the red string soulmate au, since it's a classic and one of my favorite soulmate AUs. Oh, also, slight warning for mentions of death, plague, angst, etc.! Thanks for the request :)

You hated being around people.

It's not as though you were a horribly anxious person or extremely antisocial or anything (though you weren't quite extroverted, either). But going to a court meeting? It honestly sounded horrible to sit around the courtiers and more importantly, the Countess. She had requested your presence after your in depth and accurate reading of her as well as your headaches.

Now you waited nervously in the kitchen, pacing with nothing to do but wait for your carriage to come. You didn't even have your mentor Asra around to consult with your worries. Absentmindedly you pulled and twisted with the red string upon ring finger as you pace around the kitchen. And suddenly, a sharp knock on the front door. Hesitantly, you walk to he front door and peer out the blinds discreetly. You pull back immediately once you catch sight of the palace guard at your door and take a deep, slow breath in attempt to calm yourself. It couldn't go… too bad. So with one last deep breath and a hurried straightening to your outfit, you step outside to the carriage that awaits you.

The palace is… Enormous, to say the least. It stretches out wider than even the churches and the synagogues and mosques you've seen Vesuvia, which were big enough on their own. But the palace topped it all. Stepping into it made you feel nervous as you walked through the exquisite, marble halls. But it only grew as you glanced down at your string of fate across your finger. It trailed across the palace floor. Your soulmate was in the palace with you.

You walk faster.

When you enter the meeting room, conversation falls silent. You slowly continue through the room and nervously glance to the countess, just barely. She offers you the softest hint of a smile that makes you feel just a bit more at ease, so you take a seat at the empty chair at her side as conversation slowly starts back up. You look hesitantly up to Countess Nadia once more, but right as you are to speak, the meeting room doors open. Conversation falls silent immediately once more and you glance to the person entering. And suddenly, your heart sinks. The first thing you notice of them— before the horns, before the red eyes, before the layers of bandages— is their hands. Your string of fate connects to them.

Your soulmate.

Your eyes stay shakily locked on them as they take a seat directly across from you, seemingly bored. They catch your eye. A rush of something primal runs through you and you snap your gaze away, breath shallowing at simply their cool gaze. “Quaestor Valdemar, is there any reason why you have decided to show up late?” Countess Nadia says sternly to the figure. Quaestor Valdemar responds casually and sounds, frankly, unimpressed even by the Countess. “No, not in particular. I was… doing things.” They hum. Your hands dig into the fabric against your legs as you hear their voice, vaguely twinged with something vaguely European. “What sort of things?” Inquires Countess Nadia. You manage to flicker your gaze up to Quaestor Valdemar, who looks idley at the Countess. “…Work.” They drawl.

Their eyes are such a bright red, like blood. Their skin rather than being any sort of natural shade is instead green, though you can only see the skin of their face, the rest of their body covered by a uniform. Strangely enough you can barely even see their skin, as a white mask covers their mouth and nose. They must be not only the court treasurer, but a doctor of some sorts. Their hair and head is covered by some sort of bandaged contraption, but before you can examine the suspiciously horn shaped bandages, they look at you once more. You tilt your gaze to your lap and feel the red softness of your string feel like fire.You can barely pay attention to the meeting at all before you hurriedly rush out at the first instance you hear the Countess’ dismissal.

But you are barely 10 seconds out of the door before you hear heavy, quick footsteps following your own.

You need not even turn to know who it is.

You hurriedly begin to rush but they are faster and with no warning, Quaestor Valdemar suddenly snatches your wrist and yanks you into a more secluded hallway. You practically gape up at them, your eyes locking. Their touch is like fire on your wrists even though they are like ice to the touch. And when they lean closer, they whisper soft and harsh words. They hiss slowly. You can barely make out the imprint of sharp teeth through their face mask. Your gaze can't focus. It goes from their mask to their eyes. Mask, eyes, mask, eyes— “As far as I am concerned—” they choke out, sounding strangely worked up. You notice that they are not even looking at you. Their gaze is focused on your hand, on the red string that connects you both. “You— We— this will be nothing” they say hurriedly, angrily. You're speechless, shocked, really. Where did all of this come from? You hadn't even told them your name and here they are, cornering you and hissing hateful words through their mask. “I… what— what?” You manage to sputter, feeling a bit numb to this entire thing. Valdemar's eyes narrow upon your hand, though they still don't even look at you. They're much taller than you, much stronger.

“Listen to me carefully.” They whisper as they lean closer.

You can manage to see the imprint of a wide grin upon their face against their face mask, something much too big for a human face. Something primal stiffens the muscles around your spine, your hands. “We will be… Nothing. You hear me? Nothing.” You can't even respond to that, only stare at them in shock. And when they pull away and leave, you find yourself frozen for quite some time.

The ride back home seems longer than normal. When you enter, you feel the immediate and strong aura of your Master, Asra. He scurries towards you quickly, happily, but his face falls at your own expression. “Hey—” they say quickly. Your Master hurries over to you and grasps at your hand. “What is it? What's—” they look down at your hand. Your aura must have changed from the meeting. Asra’s eyes flicker with emotion. “Oh.” They murmur. He takes a deep breath and squeezes your hand with a gentle, comforting grip. “there's something… I need to tell you. Something about.. What happened. What happened before the plague. Before you…” You wince, feeling your soul practically shudder at the thought. “Before I died of the plague” Asra nods tearfully. “Yes..That.”

You're...dizzy.

Very dizzy.

Asra's words still echo in your mind. Before the plague. You had met your soulmate. Before your death. And you're on your way to the palace before you can even fully comprehend this, running and rushing past guards and servants, hurrying. You don't even know where you're going. But you feel it. Something's pulling you somewhere and you end up in the library. The library? You spread your hands around the air, looking across the deserted room. There's a pull… somewhere. There! You hurry towards the pull you feel and tap around the shelves. Something clicks into place and suddenly the shelf slides out of its place. “Oh.” You mumble. How.. Convenient. You definitely shouldn't follow the dark staircase behind it. But you do, anyways.

You end up after a five minute walk, at a barred door. You considered knocking at it, but instead you attempt to jiggle it. It slides with ease and you step into the dungeons. It's illuminated in red and smells of blood, of death, of plague. Of something dangerously non-human.

”You shouldn't be here”

Their voice is whispered this time. You whirl around and face your soulmate in the flesh, your breath shakey. They don't look at you. “you—” and barely, can you even speak in their presence. The string connects you two with a sea of red, making your fates all too real. “You knew me before?” You choke out, your accusation stumbling into a question.

Your eyes are teary, wide, drinking the Quaestor in. They're so… Familiar. They look familiar. As if you knew them for years. Hell, you might've. But you rushed out of the shop as soon as Asra explained the situation to you. Explained that your soulmate was the one who watched you die. “Who told you?” They murmur harshly, coldly. It somehow, feels… fake. Their gaze is cold, and their voice is colder. But it strikes you as… not genuine. They don't mean this, you suddenly realize. You two had been together. They must still care for you. In some way. In some sort of way that this non human noble might be able to.

You step forward. The Quaestor’s eyes widen and flicker towards yours before they look away. They make no move forward or back. You take another step forward. And another. And more until you two are merely inches apart. The Quaestor finally meets your eyes. And they look… Hurt. Human.

The sight makes your expression break.

Hurriedly, Valdemar reaches out, pressing a cold and gloved hand against your face. “Don't.” They whisper. You shudder against their touch. It feels so familiar. And dangerous, and evil. But something deep in you kept you there, telling you that they wouldn't hurt you. Their thumb idley strokes the curve of your face and they tilt your chin up, meeting your eyes once more with their own red ones. With their other hand, Valdemar pulls their mask down revealing their nose and mouth. They let out a soft, breathless noise.

“You…” they sigh and take a deep breath.“I had thought you were a demon of my own making.” They whisper, holding your gaze. It feels as though you can't even focus on anything but then now, nothing but their eyes.

“I..” Valdemar shudders, the action so human on their demonic body. “I had assumed you were fake. A demon.” Their grip on you tightens. “A demon like me” they hiss. “My own soulmate, back to haunt me.” They whisper. Your gaze flickers and wavers on their own, filled with tears, emotions that you don't know how to name, emotions that have been buried beneath layers of amnesia, twisting and bubbling in your chest. Your hand reaches up quickly to their wrist, holding onto it tightly. “You still think that?” You sputter, your voice feeling hoarse and numb, even. Valdemar gazes at you, slow, long. They lean just the slightest bit forward.

“No.” They murmur softly.

You feel drawn in by their eyes, their voice, all of them. When they lean further, you also lean forward, just the slightest bit. “What… Why?” You manage to ask softly, chokedly. Valdemar tilts your chin up further, as if examining you. “Your eyes.” They whisper.

You blink hurriedly, feeling something fuzzy stir in your chest, your hands, your face. “W..Why?” You mumble softly. Valdemar says nothing for awhile. They merely lean closer, and closer, and closer still. You should feel afraid. And kind of, you still do. There's the slightest bit of tightness around your spine, the soft twinge if primal fear that lingers in your body. “You look at me like no one else does.” Valdemar whispers. “You look at me… Like I'm a person.” That makes you start in shock, in surprise. You knew that they were not human looking, but were you really the only one that looked at them as if they were deserving of respect?

”You are.” You say, feeling as though it is actually a bit obvious. Even with the horns.

Valdemar blinks. And with no warning, they kiss you. They kiss you as if they have been starved of any sort of affection, as if they are on her brink of death. Their lips are cold and yet, hot against yours, burning ice, making your body ice and fire all together and at the same time. And when they pull back, their eyes glimmer in something evil and joyous.

“There you are.” They whisper. A very slight, small giggle escapes them. "My Soulmate," they coo, hands slinking around your back, sharp, black nails very lightly pressing against your clothes. They soften, just slightly. “My dear. It's been.. Too long. And I have.. I have quite missed you, my love.”

❀

[soullessseraphim]

Ok uhmm I'm working on a thing and had to draw a human valdemar and

and everyone deserves a little treat.

[bloodysart]

You know this somehow isn't the most bizarre au/fusion thing I've made but it's close.

For context I made my friend @theomaru read the Heralds of Valdemar books and he was like 'I think my Guild Wars 2 OC would be a Companion. but a fucked up one' and I was like 'awesome can my Guild Wars 2 OC be her Herald?' and now we're in too deep and I think I've finally got the whole fake anime screenshot deal figured out tee hee.

(Yes I know the companions are all blue-eyed in the books I explain why I changed that under the cut and give context as to what the hell is going on)

Okay so for those of you who don't know:

Heralds of Valdemar is a fantasy novel series that got started in the late 80s and is still having new installments published. It's about Valdemar, a fantasy country whose forces and government include Heralds. Heralds are people who are Chosen by Companions (magical horse-like beings) and Heralds, once Chosen, are proven to be fundamentally decent and uncorruptable people and also get psychic powers. As a result, the ruler of Valdemar always has to be a Herald to prevent a shitty ruler from taking over. The books run all over the place in the timeline, from the founding of the country to hundreds of years later. One of the main themes of the series is the power of good over evil and what exactly those mean, and how exactly you can use your magical horse-angel-friend and your psychic powers to become a fully realized person and save the people you love.

Guild Wars 2 is a fantasy video game about a fantasy world under threat of Elder Dragons who are primordial forces of nature that corrupt and blight the world and eat magic. In the game, you as the player character end up becoming second-in-command of an organization dedicated to killing the Elder Dragons to save the world as we know it. One of the five playable races are the charr, giant militaristic cat people with horns. One of the main themes of the game is unity, and how all the disperate peoples and races of Tyria need to unite to fight against a threat to all of them.

So Theo and I ended up making an AU wherein Valdemar is an originally human kingdom, but over time different groups of the different races were integrated into the country as a whole, more or less. Valdemar has no magic, except for the Gifts (psychic powers), and most within Valdemar believe that magic isn't real anymore. The themes of the AU are finding the fundamental goodness in yourself, accepting yourself for who you are and finding the people who love you, and finding unity with different people in the face of the end of the world.

Starriean Greybone has recently been made into a gladium, put at the lowest rung of charr society, and is targeted by a group of bullies who plan to frame her for desertion and possibly beat her to death. She's saved what she thought was a feral horse, who reveals herself to be a Companion after making short work of the bullies and Chooses Starriean, which I depicted here.

Kilven (the Companion) has pink eyes because the actual design for the OC does, and meta-textually in the anime the animators gave her pink eyes to make her stand out more as a protagonist because goodness knows covers and adaptations love to fib about what the characters of the book look like.

[write-kin]

Augusnippets - Drowning

Not doing the full challenge, but I wanted to write something short to clear my mind. This is not proof-read, my brain is kind of melting from finals. Hope this makes sense :)

Prompt by @augusnippets, Altair belongs to @just-a-silly-little-whumper!

CWs: Drowning, Temporary Character Death (magical revival), implied/referenced mind control, reluctant/manipulated whumper, panic.

--

Vampires can’t drown. 

Their lungs could fill with water, sure, and Calamine knew from experience that coughing it up was unpleasant when one needed to use their lungs to speak. 

But they couldn’t die from lack of oxygen. 

Unlike living beings. 

Unlike Altair, who was currently clawing at him, wings tied behind his back. Using his limited oxygen to try and get free.

It wouldn’t be forever. Montresor had promised him that, when he brushed his hair back, sitting in the study before all of this. Calamine could revive him right after.

Altair had just been too reactive. He had every right to be, of course, but it had concerned Montresor. He’d nearly broken Cal’s arm in a panicked attempt to get any information about Elze'ith. 

Montresor had taken Cal aside. Told him that this was why those two couldn’t see each other yet. Told Cal that he couldn’t tell any of their other guests.

Vampires couldn’t drown. But Montresor could make Cal chain himself to the bottom of the lake, make him stand there until the sunlight filtered through the water and he turned, agonizingly, to mist. 

So Cal had taken Altair by the hand, wings bound. Walked him to the dark, glassy, pitch-black lake beside the castle. Held on tighter when Altair started pulling away, walking them both down to the bottom of the lake. Letting one’s lungs fill with water on purpose did have its uses. As did the vampiric strength he was only just getting used to. 

Altair was fighting. For his perceived life. Their eyes met, and he stared at Cal, and the betrayal in his expression hurt. More than his nails against Cal’s skin as Cal held him in place. More than his kicking against Cal’s chest as he floated upwards. But it was Altair or Cal facing these consequences, and no matter if he’d come back to life, Calamine wasn’t brave enough to show him mercy. 

Altair’s struggling slowed, and then stopped. He went limp, floating upwards. Eyes still open, the fight that had been slowly dying down gone. 

That was Cal’s sign to turn around, hand still around Altair’s wrist. Walk the two of them out of the lake, disturbing the mirror-smooth surface. Lay him down on the ground, hands on his chest, once they were in the entrance of the castle. Prepare to resurrect the man he had just been forced to betray. 

[liusia-piu]

Medieval AU

[meat-loving-meat]

Valdemaran mind magic makes directed energy weapons viable send tweet