If anybody wants to read my first chapter that I've shaved down to less than 5k words for the purposes of submitting to first chapter reviews, any extra eyes or advice would be cool. Thinking about submitting it to a contest by the end of this month as well.
Some of you might recognize it because its the first chapter of something I've had posted 4yrs ago. The first chapter on my Wordpress is 6400words or so and I had to carve out a lot to get it down to <5k, so... ensuring it's coherent is key.
In a bar in Nikeah after the end of the World, what starts as a bet among rivals leads Nova to a quiet stranger cloaked in rusted armor and cheaper ale. His cruelty soon gives way to courtesy, and she begins to wonder if there’s more to him than the ruin he wears.
~4600 words
---
She felt the makeup caked onto her face with every step down the stairs. Thankfully, her last client had managed to adhere to her simple rule of “No Kissing” and taken what he wanted and gotten out of the room without much cajoling. She took a few moments to visit the washroom, tidy herself up, and retired to her closet to reapply the makeup. She should’ve just started over rather than trying to fill in the gaps. Her skin felt smothered, tingly. All of her makeup felt wrong somehow. The stuff smeared onto her eyelids, the precise lines she penciled onto her eyes and lips, it all sat on her in an oddly damp way that kept her acutely aware of it the entire night.
She paused on the landing and took stock of her work in the mirror. She smoothed a bit of auburn hair back into place in her intricate, now-disheveled hairstyle, brushed away a bit of makeup clumps from under her hazel eyes, and smoothed down her red dress. She brushed off her decolletage and checked on the girls. Presentable.
A collection of giggles erupted from the bar. She looked over to the other girls, huddled together in discussion. She clacked her way over on second-hand heels and gestured to the bartender. He nodded to her and went about fixing her a wine flute of cider; it looked fancier than a mug and men paid more for their girls to be fancy.
“You don’t think he’s… he swings the other way, do you?”
She inhaled deeply and turned to the group. “Just because a man doesn’t like you doesn’t mean he’s gay, Lenore. Thanks, Gemma.” She nodded to the bartender and accepted her drink.
The redhead sneered at her. “Men only like you because you don’t charge much, Nova, so you’re not one to talk.”
The other girls gasped and giggled nervously. Nova took a swig. “Who are we talking about anyway?”
Nimsy, a mousy girl with glasses, gestured to a table in the corner. “Table in the corner. He’s-“
Lenore’s chin lifted, her tone haughty. “He’s mine.”
Nova studied her for a moment. “Then why are you here?”
Lenore growled. Nimsy spoke up for her. “He didn’t respond.”
Nova took a swig. “I gathered.”
Lenore waved a hand. “He literally didn’t respond. I worked my magic, tried to chat, giggled, offered him better ale than that whale piss we offer, but he didn’t say anything.” She frowned. “I even tried to touch his arm, and he just stared into his mug. He’s not even paying for good ale. Why would he be so focused on that that he ignores me?”
Nova chuckled. “Seems like he’s got good taste.”
Lenore eyed Nova up and down. “How about you try, then.”
Nova lifted her brow. “Me? Thought you said he was yours.”
Lenore angled her head. “But you’re so easy. And Gemma thinks you’re worth it.”
The auburn-haired woman took a deep breath. She recognized the bait, knew full well that it was a trap, and sighed heavily. They had been at odds ever since Lenore found out Nova made more money. “What do I get besides bragging rights?”
The redhead frowned. “You’d get the purse.”
Nova leaned toward the haughty girl, eyes narrowed. “You think he’s saving his money on our cheapest ale to cash out for the right girl? The purse won’t be that fat. I want something from you.”
Lenore pulled a sour face and glared back at the woman. Nimsy squeaked somewhere beside the pair. “Are bragging rights not enough?”
Nova smirked. “I already have those. Don’t I, Gemma?” The bearded man behind the bar grunted affirmation. “What would I get from you?”
Lenore rolled her eyes. “Ugh. What do you want?”
Nova stood up straight. “If I manage to take him back to my room, you do my laundry for a week.”
Childish disgust took the redhead’s face. “But you’re so busy! They end up so gross!”
Nova shrugged. “It’s just a week. I could’ve asked for a month.” She offered her empty glass to Gemma.
Lenore snapped her fan open and hid behind it. “Fine, a week, then. Which means you’ll do mine if you can’t take him up to your room.”
Nova nodded as if tipping a hat. “I look forward to not having to visit the laundry house.”
Her glass refilled, she tipped it to the girls and headed off before Lenore could sass her any further. She made her way across the bar floor, a few familiar faces assessing her, one about to reach out for her when one of Lenore’s posse grabbed his hand.
She heaved a deep sigh and closed the last few steps to the table where her target sat. She studied his posture, assessing her plan of attack for this particular monster. The sagging shoulders, stooped head, both arms on the table, alone in the corner of the bar with cheap ale. Sadness cloaked the man, something he bore, as far from the fireplace and light as he could get. She took a slow breath; this man would be difficult, at best.
The armor he wore, a rusted and faded purple with white and yellow chipped accents, asymmetrical pauldrons that held a tattered and stained cape. The colors all seemed muddied, faded, rusted in some way, with no indication of whatever colors they had been before. For now, he appeared a dull purple and brown. Rings of varying thickness and metals covered several of his fingers, one almost appearing like a signet ring, tarnished and filled with dirt that obscured the iconography within. His hair suffered a similar fate, at once oily and crinkly, whatever color it had been before faded into a muddy grey. Whatever honor and glory this man once held lost to their new world.
As she ventured closer, she realized the man stank, if not of ale, then the unmistakable putrid scent of the homeless, a mixture of rotted sweat and urine, hints of dried blood, with charred flesh. The armor contributed to the smell, coated in grime, salt, and rust, though vinegar and ammonia lingered at the edges. No wonder Lenore had such a vested interest in baiting her into charming this vagrant; he probably had no money. At least, not anymore.
Much had changed in the world within the last year. It didn’t surprise her that a man wearing armors might look and smell miserable. Every landmass had changed, every monster strengthened by the awakening of magic, and Kefka high up in his tower with the very real threat of his Light of Judgment. So many had lost so much when the apocalypse occurred.
She set her jaw. This man probably wandered through the lands, killing monsters for the barest scraps of cash, so that he could drown his sorrows in the cheapest ale he could afford. Because he had lost something, or someone. Who hadn’t?
She took a sip of her cider. “How about I get you something a little stronger to drink?”
His head shifted slightly, recognition of her presence and question. Silence followed. She struggled against her desire to look back at the girls.
She had one thing they didn’t, however, and she moved a chair closer to him. “Come on, soldier, that cheap swill isn’t going to dull the pain. Especially not alone. I can at least get you a discount on something stronger. And some company.”
His head lifted slightly.
She had him. “Mind if I sit?”
“What makes you think I was a soldier?” A husky, exhausted rumble tickled her ears.
Heat rose on her ears. “What?”
A heavy sigh preceded his face lifting from the mug of ale and she felt a jolt up her spine. Beautiful blue eyes met hers, so bright they practically glowed in the dim lighting of the bar, a morbid despair behind them. Something tugged at her heart. Shadows danced across his face, highlighting the angles, accentuating his beard. Despite his smell and weathered appearance, the vagrant was handsome. Small wonder Lenore had taken interest.
“What makes you think I was a soldier?” His voice came firmer, eyes narrowed.
She felt heat on her cheeks, hidden by the makeup. “J-just a hunch.”
“A hunch?” His eyes crinkled slightly with a smile that somehow didn’t curve his lips. “No, you’re smart. Smarter than you want me to know. Tell me your deductions.”
Her brow lifted. Deduction. She tossed a thumb over her shoulder. “Did you want a better drink?”
Those blue eyes stared at her, expectant. She offered him a forced smile, beginning to regret her decision to take Lenore’s bait. “The most obvious sign is that you’re wearing armor. Not many men can afford armor or know how to wear it. It’s possible you stole it after the world changed, but with the way you move in it… you appear comfortable, implying that it isn’t new to you.
“Then there’s the way you’ve placed yourself in the back corner, furthest from both the entrance and the door to the backrooms.” She gestured to both without looking away from him. “Furthest from the warmth and light of the fireplace.” She pointed over her shoulder in the general direction of the fireplace. “Your back is to the corner, affording you a wide view of the entire bar while protecting your back.” She pointed behind him. “Most wouldn’t think twice about that kind of positioning. But most people are also not worried about the possibility of would-be attackers.
“The scars on your hands tell their own story at first glance. Without taking your hands to investigate them up close, it is difficult to tell what caused them. They could be from any number of things. I believe it is safe to make the assumption that they are related to combat. With man, machine, or beast.
“The least obvious I will point out is your hair. While you keep it long, you tie it back. Not a style choice, I’d imagine, but practicality. For the aforementioned combat. The ribbon is frayed and bare, the color long faded. The poor thing is in need of replacement. Presumably difficult to find a replacement in this new ruined world. Though, I will admit to being curious as to why you would bother to keep it long at all, given your aforementioned comfort with your armor.”
She took a sip of her cider, studying him over her glass. “Upon closer inspection, it also looks like you wear a number of rings and wear an insignia on your armor. This suggests you could have been in the employ of a wealthy man. Or a town guard. Though the addition of a cape certainly leans more toward the wealthy. Perhaps not a soldier, precisely.
“It could also be that I wanted to address you with some moniker in order to engender myself to you more quickly, and ‘soldier’ felt the most vague and, thus, apropos. Is that satisfactory?”
As she listed her observations, he glanced to each in turn, assessing her deductions. Those bright blue eyes returned to her and he nodded once. “You’re very observant.”
She chuckled and lifted one shoulder, coy. “Not something most men would notice about me.”
A dark and deep hum emanated from him as he assessed her again. “No, I suppose it wouldn’t be. More than likely they notice the makeup meant to make you prettier than you are. Or the strategic décolletage to entice them to your room. Or the cider in a flute meant to make you appear higher class. Despite the state of your …fashions being clearly secondhand and in relatively good repair.”
Her shoulders dropped with each new observation, her expression shifting from surprise to frustration. Lenore had certainly baited her into a poor client choice. She would be cackling in her room as Nova did her laundry for a week. Probably already started cackling at the bar. “Aren’t you direct.” She did not bother to hide the hurt and anger in her voice.
One blink. Another. That darkness lifted from his expression as her statement fell between them. “Damn it all…” He stood abruptly, too quickly, the motion sharp with guilt. Reaching for her free hand, he bowed to place a dry, reverent kiss to the back of her fingers. “That was cruel of me. Ungrateful. Gods, you deserved none of it. You showed me attention, courtesy, performing as I asked. I have repaid you with the venom of a man who has forgotten how to speak like a gentleman.”
Her brow lifted almost to her hairline. Quite a heel turn.
“I beg your forgiveness.” He kept his head low, his tail curling over his shoulder to dangle beside his face. “I fear I have wandered too long among the ruins of this world and forgotten that I am not also made of stone. I am not some damnable blackguard or back-alley knave. I swear it.”
Silence stretched between them. She realized he awaited her response.
Her hand twitched in his, but he didn’t let go. “W-well, I suppose it only polite that I should offer you a chance to redeem yourself?”
As he straightened up, his other hand moved to the small of his back, a posture she recognized from nobility. Or, at the very least, wealthy. ““Then it’s only fair that I compensate you.” He bowed his head slightly and brought her hand close to his forehead without touching it. “For your time, of course… and for enduring the arrogance of a man mocking something I’ve always known to carry worth.”
Warmth spread from his hand to hers and she felt herself flush. An intimacy carried in the gesture of her hand almost touching his forehead caught her off guard. “How… would you like to?”
A warm smile struggled its way onto his features, as sincere as a man in pain could make it. “The most obvious would be simply to pay for your time this evening, though I am reticent to put you through more of my churlish behavior. This would amount to offering you an evening off.” The smile faltered and turned rueful. “I admit, however, that our interaction has reminded me that I must work on my social graces, thus I would hope to occupy your time with conversation, to speak nothing of your other services. I believe you have already serviced a guest this evening and might enjoy the rest.” Their hands lowered again to dangle between the pair. He still did not let go.
Her brow lowered. “You’re venturing dangerously close to lecherous cur, stranger.”
A lighthearted chuckle escaped him. “You were not here when I arrived. I would’ve noticed you.”
Warmth moved through her again, threatening at the edges of her face. The hazards of her work made her immune to the charm of most men, but something about this one. She looked away from his bright blue eyes, lest she get taken in.
But she had made a bet.
“I suppose a bit of conversation couldn’t hurt. Would you care to retire to my room? The privacy might make it easier.”
A soft sound drifted from his throat, equal parts surprise and resignation. He inhaled and slowly, finally released her hand. “If that is what you desire as the terms for my redemption, then I will agree, but I would… prefer to stay here.”
The room felt colder without their contact. She took her cider flute with both hands. “Then allow me to refresh your drink, and mine. You can show me what a gentleman you truly are.” Well navigated conversation could always lead to where she needed to go. She still had a chance to win the bet.
His back straightened and he bowed his head in a nod. “A wine set, if you please. With the full arrangements. Herbs, dried fruit, whatever is customary. The more expensive, the better. Honor is at stake here, after all.”
She laughed. Not forced, just a simple, genuine chuckle at his jape. “You continue to surprise. That’s not a request we get often, especially now. But I’ll see what I can do, anyway. I might have to sweet-talk the barkeep into opening up the good shelves. Would you like me to take your cheap, dishonorable beverage with me?”
He glanced back at the ale on the table and considered it for a moment. “No, thank you. I like to finish the drinks I pay for. And I may need a touch more liquid courage before your return. I will endeavor to ensure that it does not contribute to further churlishness.”
As she turned to leave with her flute of cider, she cast a glance over her shoulder. “Try not to finish that ale too quickly, now. I want you warm and just brave enough to say yes.”
His eyebrows lifted slightly at her parting words and she caught the hints of a blush as he lowered his head. She sauntered away, swinging her hips and bustle in case she still had his attention. As she reached the bar, she shot Lenore a smile.
The redhead sneered back. “Seems you were able to get through to him.”
Nova smirked and finished off her cider. “Gemma, I need a wine set with as many fixings as you can spare.” She held the empty flute to the barman.
He took her glass, placed it in the dirty side of the sink, and moved to fulfill her order. Lenore, Nimsy, and a few other girls turned to Nova with a mixture of shock, surprise, and curiosity among them.
Lenore managed to mix a bit of disgust in as well. “Oh, you finally caught his attention? I guess I was right. He really doesn’t have any taste.”
Nova responded with a sneering smile. “It’s good that I caught his attention then. I can teach him what good taste actually looks like. Starting with the wine.”
Lenore shrugged and casually checked her nails. “You haven’t taken him upstairs yet. That wine set won’t win you our bet.”
A serving tray made its way to the bartop with a bottle of expensive wine, a pair of glasses, and a selection of herbs, garnishes, and other add-ins. The barkeep tugged it back slightly as Nova reached for it. “Don’t forget I’ll need a name for the tab, Nova.”
She finished the motion and grabbed the tray. “When have I let you down, Gemma? I’ll let you know whenever we go upstairs.”
He nodded before moving off to pour other drinks.
Lenore giggled and brushed a stray hair over her shoulder. “There’s a first time for everything. And it probably won’t be the last.”
“Oh, there’d have to be a first, Lenore. The night is young and the bottle is full. I have plenty of time to lure him upstairs. I’m in not rush.” Nova took the tray and turned back toward her target.
She walked away, the tray steady in her hands, and a sharp little huff followed behind her.
The wine had settled into the both of them. She swished around a mixture with fruits and herbs, leaned back in the seat as a comfortable rhythm settled between them. They’d managed to clear the small talk without too much hassle, most of the awkwardness eaten up by his earlier behavior and apologies. While they had skipped any identifying details, he managed to keep the conversation lively. He regaled her with a story of his former comrades-in-arms as they traveled over mountains and through caves.
As she lifted her glass of wine, her brow furrowed at a particular piece of information in his story. “Wait.” The wine glass dropped to the table. “Your weapon just happened to misfire every fifth cycle? That sounds an awful lot like a calibration issue. Or… maybe a faulty thermal gauging pin?”
His gaze had fallen to his hands as he gestured during his story, but at her question, he froze. Those bright blue eyes found hers again, brighter than before, and a genuine smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “I… had thought to check the calibration, but it appeared fine. The casing had never warped or the wood parts caught fire, so I didn’t think to check the thermal pin.” His head tilted, fighting a grin. “Do you know something about mechanics?”
The excitement, the interest, he gave the impression of a man finally coming alive just for her. Warmth spread on her cheeks and she took a sip of her wine. “That was a long time ago.”
He scooped up his own wine glass. “What did you work on?”
She wet her lips and placed both elbows on the table, hands wrapped around the stem of her wine glass. “Small-scale stuff, mostly. Home heating and pipes, air pumps, minor hydraulics. Nothing as fanciful as what you’re talking about.”
“Perhaps you could help me diagnose the issue, regardless. I’ve been starved for good conversation for some time.” He downed almost half of his glass. “I would love a pencil and paper. Would the barkeep be willing to part with some?” Before she could even think to respond, he shot from the table and toward the bar.
She took a breath. A former life she thought to have died out in the wastes, a life she hid from her patrons and herself. Somehow, he managed to conjure its ghost within her, a passion she had sword off. She took another sip of her wine and hissed as the alcohol burner her throat. Never could stand the stuff, hence the cider. Still, he’d lit up when she spoke of mechanics. Perhaps she’d have to dig up the old ghost, if only long enough to lure him upstairs.
Anything to win this bet.
The table shook as he returned, already scratching lines across the requested spare paper, pencil dancing. “So, the design is fairly intricate to make it do what I designed it for and…” His gloom had melted away, his melancholy forgotten, fully alive in the moment.
She watched, interested, as he sketched and explained each bit as best he could. His hands moved with dexterity, precision, and speed. He had performed this task before, sketching a blueprint and explaining it. The most obvious profession would be machine designer, but why would he need armor for that? Or a cape and rings? Perhaps he did it for an important person?
Like the Emperor?
Her ears slid back and she yanked herself out of that thought quickly. He pointed to different parts and described their purpose.
“Based on these schematics, what do you think is causing the misfire?” He had squatted down beside her, between her and the rest of the bar, his earlier caution forgotten in his zeal.
He almost looked like a boy seeking approval from the source of his admirations. She felt heat rising on her cheeks and took another sip of her wine. She slid the sketch in front of her and studied it. After a few moments, her brow furrowed. “What material are you using for all of these parts?”
He used the pencil to point at the different parts and list the metals used in their components. She took another sip and shook her head. “You need to use darksteel for thermal pins. It can withstand a lot of heat, so if you find the right mix, it’s the only alloy that will fire clean every time.”
His brow furrowed as he turned back to the small schematic he’d hastily sketched. “Darksteel, you say?” He rubbed at the beard over his jawline. “It’s not commonly found in Figaro, but I suppose I could set up a trade deal with Narshe for-“ His voice broke and faded. The warmth in his eyes dull, replaced with that dark grief she first saw in him. While his eyes stared at the sketch without seeing it.
Her hand found his on the table. “Darksteel is still out there somewhere. You don’t have to give up just yet.”
His bright blue eyes looked to her hand over his. She hadn’t even thought before she moved to comfort him, a remnant of a version of herself she thought forgotten. The ghost had been resurrected.
Before she had a chance to pull her hand away, he turned his hand to curl around her fingers. “You’re very kind…”
Those bright blue eyes lifted to hers and for a breath, there was something new, fighting amongst the shadows. Not sorrow, not calculation. A flicker of life, of hope, of admiration. Of something more.
Heat rushed over her cheeks and she tore her gaze away from his, her hand ripped from his grasp. She slid the hastily scrawled sketch in front of her. “D-due to the properties of darksteel, however, you have to be very careful of the other components around it. It can destabilize less resilient alloys, and certainly wooden stocks.”
He chuckled slightly and moved to stand. The motion forced that vile scent in her direction, into her open mouth as she spoke. She gagged slightly, moving quickly to cover her mouth and swallow in the hopes that he hadn’t noticed.
His hand found her bare shoulder, but before he could ask, she felt that hand leave, heard a sniff, and then a cough. He had caught on. “I’ll, uh… I believe I have taken up enough of your time. I will go pay with the barman.”
She heard him turn away and moved quickly to grab his wrist. She had yet to win the bet. “And leave me all alone?” She strove to make her tone playfully wounded, but her desperation may have bled through.
An apologetic smile touched his lips. “My lady, I have been a blackguard in both manners and hygiene. One offense and I could understand your persistence. But both?” He studied her, clearly puzzled. “You’d be wise to cut your losses and allow me to pay for your time this evening.”
“Well, one of those is easily remedied. How about I draw you a bath?” She flashed a coy smile at him.
His expression hardened. “I remind you, my lady, that I am not interested in your services this evening.”
She recoiled, though she did not release his wrist. “Just a bath and nothing else, I promise.” His expression remained doubtful. “I assure you that the inn will not have all the facilities or scents proper for a man of your status.”
A blonde brow arched. “Facilities…?” His free hand rubbed at his beard. “…I suppose I am a bit shaggier than I typically like.” A resigned sigh. “All right, all right. You’ve talked me into it.”
She beamed at him and stood, perhaps a little too abruptly. Her other hand moved to join the first around his wrist and shook his arm. “Wonderful!” She had won!
He backed away a step, startled. Her grip slacked on his wrist and she muttered something of an apology.
Not to be deterred, he lifted his arm to offer his elbow. A proper gentleman. “Shall we, my lady?”
More and more of his behavior pointed to his previous status as some kind of wealthy aristocrat, but the armor and knowledge of machinery pointed to a different profession. He had started her mind working, and she hadn’t been able to stop it. Though, she reminded herself, his previous life had most likely died when the world did. Perhaps he just hadn’t buried his ghost the same as her.
She looped her arm through his and he guided her hand to rest on the top of his wrist. Before they made their way toward the stairs, he scooped up the papers and pencil from the table. They shared a polite smile before he gestured for her to lead the way.
He waited at the bottom of the stairs for her to lead the way. She heard another frustrated squeal as they made their way up. She reveled in shooting a smirk over the bar to where the sound originated to find a puffed up, positively tomato-colored Lenore.
Fictober Event, The prompts for 2023
Here is the list for October this year. Write something short (or long) and tag it with #fictober23 in the first five tags. Let’s see your creativity!
"It's not too late, let's go."
"Don't worry, I got you."
"Okay, show me."
"Do you even know what this means?"
"You're the smartest person I know."
"I can't wait for you."
"Do you recognise this?"
"Give me that, before anything happens."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
"It's alright, I'm here now."
"You lost it. Well, we lost it."
"I'm not saying I didn't like it."
"Come with me, hurry."
"If you don't stop now —"
"Fine, explain it to me."
"Do you know a way out of here?"
"I never said it would be easy."
"We can't do this on our own."
"What if we're wrong?"
"This better be good."
"Just in case this doesn't work."
"Who takes care of you?"
"No, you won't understand, ever."
"Is it over? Is it really over?"
"Do I look like I knew that?"
"Honestly, why would I care?"
"I don't know if they will accept this."
"I may not get another chance to say this."
"That's all? Easy."
"Are you with me?"
"It's not your fault."
This event is open to all fanfiction and original fiction.
Start October the First. You do not have to do the prompts in order. Tag your posts with #fictober23. Please state if your entry is original fiction or fanfiction and what fandom at the top. State common warnings and triggers at the top and tag accordingly. I reserve the right to not reblog fics that I find inappropriate. I will reblog things here on @fictober-event, follow this blog to see all the entries.
Check the rules for any questions.
Here's the AO3 collection: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Fictober23
I got too excited so you can have this year's oc-tober art prompts!
IMPORTANT! It has been brought to my attention that this years mistake is me writing the word ritual twice, once on the 2nd and once on the 23rd, so to combat this, please use the first ritual as something the oc does on a daily basis and the second one as an actual ritual, I deeply apologise for any confusion this may cause 😔
Please tag me in your art so I can reblog it without having to rely on tumblr's horrific search engine
Anyway! Please don't overexert yourself and remember to have fun!
Transcript below:
#OC-tober2023
Day 1: "Home" Day 16: Storm
Day 2: Education Day 17: Fun
Day 3: Ritual Day 18: Found family
Day 4: Blood family Day 19: Hobby
Day 5: Choice Day 20: Rebel(lious)
Day 6: Prison Day 21: Poison
Day 7: Hatred Day 22: Charm
Day 8: Saviour Day 23: Ritual
Day 9: Promise Day 24: Unexpected
Day 10: Mercy Day 25: Artificial
Day 11: Birthday Day 26: Weapon
Day 12: Foreigner Day 27: Souvenir
Day 13: Food Day 28: History
Day 14: Mask Day 29: Excuse
Day 15: Flashback Day 30: Halloween
Day 31: Free choice
#OC-tober2023 Rules
Rule 1: Tag me @oc-tober2023
Rule 2: Use the tag #oc-tober2023 and/or #oc-tober
Rule 3: Don't exhaust or overwork yourself
Rule 4: You can skip days and prompts
Rule 5: Get creative! Write, draw, use crafts, do anything you want!
Rule 6: Bend the prompts as much as you like
Rule 7: Share the love with the other artists
Rule 8: Be kind, respectful and properly tag things that need a TW or CW and please keep in mind that I willnot be reblogging NSFW art because children might participate
Rule 9: If you want your art to be featured on an end of the month youtube video use the #oc-tobervideo or message me!
Welcome to another year of Angstober! We're delighted to unveil the prompts for this year of angsty, spooky fun.
What is Angstober?
Angstober is a yearly October challenge with 31 angst-themed prompts to inspire you to create. The challenge is open to all sorts of creative work - writing, art, edits, whatever you want - in whatever medium you want. Original work or fanworks? Whatever you feel inspired for!
How do I take part?
Tag your works with #angstober2023 and the day of the prompt (e.g., #day 01) to share on tumblr. Feel free to @ us directly in the post as well! To share your work on AO3, add it to the Angstober 2023 collection.
You can post your works whenever - early or late - and use as many or as few prompts as you feel inspired for! We'll do our best to reblog as many works to the @angstober blog as we can.
🍂 🍃 Hello and welcome to our third annual Flufftober 🍂 🍃
We’re so excited to be back and to once again have you here!
As always, let’s fill the month of October with as much fluff as possible 🥰 and for that to happen, we not only have 31 prompts for you, no; we also have something special this year...
Prompt Extras
Last year's Prompt Substitutes were very well-loved and a lot of you used them to replace some prompts from the original list. You're more than welcome to do this again if there's a prompt that doesn't work for you for whatever reason - no explanation needed.
Once again, we offer you last year's top five fan favorites (as voted in the end survey). In addition to that, we also offer five scenario prompts.
If you don't want to replace any prompt from the original list but still love the additional ones - or you simply want to challenge yourself - you can also mix them all together!
So in whichever way you use these Prompt Extras, have fun with them and go wild 💚
Below the cut you'll find all our rules, posting info, all the prompts in writing, as well as some explanation for prompts we feel might need clarification. If you have any more questions, please feel free to send us an ask 🥰
We hope you like these prompts, and now
Happy Creating 🥳
Standard Blog Rules & FAQ
No inc*st or p*dophilia - we can’t keep you from writing it or creating art for it but it won’t be reblogged. See further down for clarification.
No hate or ship bashing - we’re all different and we all love different things. As long as it doesn’t go against rule #1, it’s allowed.
Tag correctly! Trigger warnings (including cheating!), ships, ratings, (pure) smut, etc - it’s all fine as long as you tag it.
There’s absolutely no word count restriction, write as little or as much as you like.
In regards to art, anything goes: drawings, paintings, collages, mood boards, gifsets, videos, playlists… the sky’s the limit (though not really…)
While we can’t force you to write fluff or create fluffy art, please try to keep in mind that this is a fluff event 😉
You can start writing and/or arting as soon as you see this - but please refrain from posting before the respective day.
You can participate on as many days as you like, even if it’s just one; you can also create multiple entries for the same day.
You can replace prompts from the original list with either or all of our prompt extras; you can also mix them with the original prompts or create for them in addition to the 31 original prompts, that's completely up to you.
It’s okay to write one story/a series for all the prompts as long as it’s separated into chapters and the respective chapter/work is posted on the given day.
You do not have to stick to one ship or even one fandom - switch as often as you like to or even write for multiple ships for one day.
The ship does not have to be a romantic one! Friendship and family feels are more than welcome (but this is not a way to get around rule #1!)
This event can be combined with other events as long as the other event allows it.
Late entries are always welcome, even if it is months later.
All fandoms and ships are welcome - fanon and canon - as long as they’re of age (in case you want to add smut) and not related.
Since this has often been asked in previous years, please let us clarify the no inc*st or p*dophilia rule:
No inc*st: This rule does not apply to distant cousins and such, as you might find in the LotR fandom (or basically in all of European Monarchy). The line we draw is at direct blood relations (siblings, parents, kids) and/or legal guardianship.
No p*dophilia: This rule does not rule out fandoms that feature teenagers such as Harry Potter, Heartstoppers, Hunger Games, etc. It also doesn't mean you can't write about their time together as teenagers! It was mostly aimed at ships in which one is a minor and the other is not - but since even that got complicated over time, the rule is now this: if you keep it SFW, all is good and allowed, we don't care; if it turns NSFW, be mindful of the legalaties of the world/society/times your characters live in.
Posting
Posting to tumblr
Please use the tag #flufftober2023
Since tags are sometimes wonky, make sure to also add @flufftober in your post
We will try to catch them all, but please don't be mad if we miss a post or if it gets reblogged a bit late
If you're absolutely certain a post has slipped past us, feel free to send an ask with the link to your post
To make reblogging easier for us, make sure to add the following tags: #flufftober2023 #day [xy] #[fandom] #[ship and/or main character(s)]
If you're using a prompt extra tag it as #alt [number]
Posting to ao3
You can add your creation to the collection flufftober2023 or flufftober_2023 (yes, we've once again claimed both)
Late entries are always welcome, on tumblr as well as the ao3 collection! Neither will close - but like always, reblogs will become less regular the more months have passed...
Prompts (and explanations)
1. “I’ve got you”
2. Family, Friends, Loved Ones
3. “Wait you love me?” - “I always have”
4. Cinderella Moment (the "ugly duckling" gets their moment to shine)
5. x + 1 (can be a classic "5+1 things" [or any number you want] creation or literally a plus one for an event or really anything else you can think of)
6. Corn Maze
7. Porch Swing
8. Rainy Day
9. (...) at first sight (think "love at first sight", "enemies at first sight"...)
10. Love of my Life (even this does not have to be romantic 😉)
22. Picking (think "picking flowers", "picking up someone", "picking out a dress", "picking a song for the wedding"...)
23. Trinket
24. [melting emoji] (does anyone even know what this emoji stands for? No? We neither but we would love for you to get creative with it 😉 but also, think "melting in the heat", "melting from embarrassment"... also, I would've loved to add it here but tumblr doesn't have this emoji yet)
WIP INTRO - ZODIAC CHRONICLES - Book 1 - Mystery in Tauri
Genre: Epic Fantasy
A land slowly turned infertile has caused increasing suffering to the small village that sits on it. Overhunting and overfishing have reduced the wildlife, and the food supply diminishes more every day. The old doctor, an integral and required member of every village, fell victim to the troubles affecting the land. The new doctor, requested by the Mayor, comes bearing promises of repairing the land and solving all their ills. Ever since, more and more people have gotten sick and disappear upon seeing the Doctor. These issues left Tristan’s land unbothered, blessed by the magic of his mother before her death. He tends the trees she loved so much in life and cares for his blind father alone, his family hated for something in his mother’s past. After a classmate’s father gets injured on a hunt, Tristan discovers an intruder in his land. A young man. Worried that the intruder is the culprit and his family will be implicated, he investigates the hunting incident alongside the Mayor’s Daughter. She is the heir to the Mayorship and intends to start her education in leadership by solving the issues plaguing her village. The young man that intruded on Tristan’s land turns out to be full of surprises, not the least of which is a skill in stealth that allows him to acquire knowledge of the Mayor’s dubious meetings with the Doctor.
"I chose you." - Bat - Wearing Each Other’s Clothes
A LITTLE OUT OF THE ORDINARY (Adverse Effects | Unconventional Restraints | “This wasn’t supposed to happen”)
The game of baseball is sacred to most of it’s players.
~1300 words
---
Familiar sounds of cars driving by pulled at his consciousness. The crack of a ball against a bat echoed in his ringing ears. Familiar sounds, nothing out of the ordinary. He’d fallen asleep plenty of times in the dugout, under a bench, in the stands, waiting for practice to end. It had been a few years since he’d done it, though.
CRACK!
He felt a breeze, the crack of the hit louder than normal. As he opened his eyes, he caught another player, familiar in his Tombstone Flyers uniform, readying a bat to swing. The color of his hair didn’t match any of the players on the team, but maybe he was new.
Attempting to sit up alerted him to the bonds wrapped around his wrists, his middle, his legs. A sock, dirty judging by the taste, filled his mouth, held fast by a black uniform belt. Not his team.
Thoomp… CRACK!
Muffled noises and the sound of struggle pulled the batter from his routine. “Hey, you’re finally awake!”
The bat fell to the ground with a plonk while the player rushed over to grab the large remote box for the pitching machine. The hum of electricity quieted as the machine turned off. “There we go. Sorry about that, Spooky. Got bored while you were nappin’.”
Spooky struggled against his bonds, plotting a number of ways to punish this newbie. But something about him seemed familiar, not like the field or the dugout or the stands. He’d seen this man before, but in a different uniform, a darker jersey maybe. Sherriff would probably never let anyone on the team with colorization that dark.
But he knew his name, or at least, his nickname.
“Bet you’re tryin’ to figure out where it is you know me from.” The man grinned toothily, his teeth sharp and stained not yellow, but some other color. “Go ahead and look down, that’ll give you a hint.”
He kept his eyes on the man, his captor. Something about the encouragement felt like a trap.
“Ah, c’mon, indulge me, kid.”
He glanced down. An old, loose jersey, hung dark against his pale skin. The Umbra Hulks? He looked up.
“How’s it fit? Yours is a little tight around the middle. Reminds me I should get back to workin’ out. I always say I’m gonna, you know, every New Year. But, you know, resolutions, right?” He smoothed the front of Spooky’s shirt. “Also helps if someone happens to walk by. Home Field Advantage, right? Not unreasonable to see a flyer out here after dark practicing their swing, right?”
The longer he spoke, the more he remembered. He’d heard this man before. Calling for time outs or shouting instructions or arguing with the umpire. He’d played Left Fielder back in the day. Lefty.
“But you’re probably wonderin’ what brings you out here tonight. Me, I’m just enjoying your teams’ new machine. It’s pretty cool. Wish we had that kind of budget. But we don’t.” Lefty fussed with a ring his right hand. “Which is weird, considerin’ your team never sells out tickets. Now, us Hulks, we sell out all the time, right. People love to watch a game with the Umbra Hulks. Won the Championship for years now, right?” The ring, a large gaudy thing that Spooky recognized now as a Championship ring, moved into Lefty’s pocket. “So how is it that we don’t have the budget for fancy new equipment?”
Panic started to fill him. The only time his own father took off his rings meant sobbing in the bathroom over bloody rags.
“So, despite my boss’s protests, I started to look into it.” He chuckled and looked to Spooky with his pitch-black sclera and red irises. “I may not look it, but I’m smarter than people give me credit for. But not as intimidatin’. Because no matter where I followed the money, I came up against some pretty firm roadblocks.”
Lefty paced around as he spoke, thick-knuckled hands gesturing absently. “I followed the dough through official channels, talked to tellers and bankers and accountants. Even followed it through back-channels, right? Tracked down some old contacts, bookies, runners, gamblers.” A nostalgic smirk took up a portion of his features. “Even ran into some old friends that left the Business. They all loved havin’ a chat over a lunch or a beer down the pub. But, wouldn’t you know it, they all clammed up at some point. Now, me, smarter than the average Hulk me, started to notice a pattern.”
Spooky attempted to swallow around the dirty sock and winced at the taste. The rope burned and scratched, tighter every time he attempted to break free. He felt blood trickle down his wrist, into his palm, down his fingers. Despite his best efforts, the angle of his legs made it difficult to even sit on the chair, one of the foldable ones from a conference room or something in the facilities, his ankles tied to the closest point, toes on the ground.
“So I looked into that pattern and I got myself a hunch. I started askin’ different questions, looked into different things here and there. Turns out, our budget problem has a pretty simple solution. But one that I can’t just call out. Because, see, the culprit has a lot of people under duress. If I go after ‘im, he takes down a lot of other people. Nothin’ would stick to him. And then I’d be the one in trouble. Which is where you come in, kid.”
Spooky furrowed his brow. Lefty meandered in front of him and crouched down. “You just follow your coach’s orders, I get it. You hit the ball, you run, you score runs. When you’re on the mound, you throw the ball, maybe you hurt the opposing team’s player. Maybe that player gets benched for a while. Maybe the Flyers start winnin’ more games. Happens all the time.” Red flashed in Lefty’s eyes. “But kid, your coach don’t know what’s good for the game anymore. He’s hurtin’ more players than we got. He’s scarin’ people away from the game. Which is what brings me to you.”
Lefty stood again and walked over to the large remote for the pitching machine. “Men like your coach think they’re untouchable. Think they’ve buried enough of themselves that no one can get at him, right?” He poked several of the buttons on the remote. “But they can’t think of everything.” He pressed start and the machine whirred into life. “Which is where you come in, kiddo.”
Thoomp…
The chair nearly toppled over as Spooky’s reflexes took over to dodge the incoming ball. His eyes darted from the Hulk into the distance where the pitching machine sat. He had been placed directly in the path of the machine. Seated at just the right height.
Lefty scooped up the baseball bat. “Your coach has to be stopped. But, seein’ as he thinks he’s untouchable, there’s no way to get at him directly.” He moved into position to bat as a right-hander. “Which means I gotta find a way to send him a message.”
Thoomp…
Spooky almost fell over again.
“A message he can’t dismiss. Which is why I chose you. Someone he’ll care about more than his other players.” Lefty held the bat with his right hand over his left.
Spooky looked down the field at the pitching machine, the loader bucket full of balls.
“I mean, I could try to talk to him. But he’s hurt so many people already.”
Thoomp…
Spooky grunted this time. They were coming faster than before.
“I gotta hurt him where he can’t ignore it, right?” Lefty settled back into his batting stance, foreign to him as a left-hander. “And I know how much it’ll hurt him to find your body in the dugout tomorrow morning.”
So this is a bit of a warmup and I’m not sure if I’m done with it, but I wanted to post it and see what people thought of it. The husband encouraged me to write stuff that didn’t involve Zodiac this year, and I didn’t want to put pressure on myself to write 1k words for every prompt, just get enough of an idea to write something, you know?
"I chose you." - Bat - Wearing Each Other’s Clothes
A LITTLE OUT OF THE ORDINARY (Adverse Effects | Unconventional Restraints | “This wasn’t supposed to happen”)
Not every rivalry can be fixed. But Lefty won’t let down his team, or his game.
~700 words
---
The underground area of Umbra Stadium was affectionately called The Dungeon by those that frequented the building, but not those that worked there. Players typically only moved through the locker rooms and the dugout. They had no reason to go deeper.
Not always.
Even breathing deepened into heavy, muffled and struggled around cloth. Lefty, left-handed left fielder of the Umbra Hulks, darted his dark eyes from the pages of a book toward the source. With a swift motion, he stood and dogeared his page to slap the book down on the chair behind.
“Hey, kiddo, you finally awake?”
In the other chair, a young man lifted his head, pale eyes wide at Lefty. He took in his surroundings - a dingy room with poor lighting and pipes across every available wall and ceiling. Water dripped from connections and joins, a valve ticked every so often with high pressure or low pressure. He tried to sit up, to move his hands, and grunted. Panic opened his face and he tugged.
“Ah, yeah, you’re gettin’ it now.” Lefty chuckled and took a few steps forward. “Welcome to The Dungeon, Spooky.”
Spooky’s white eyes focused on Lefty, brow furrowed. The man wore a Tombstone Wings uniform. His uniform. He attempted to swallow around the dirty sock in his mouth, held fast by a belt tied around his head.
“You may be wonderin’ what brings you here.” Lefty smiled to his captive. “Now me, I’m not one to keep a guy waiting. Fastest hands in the region, me.” He reared his left hand back, stepped, and threw an invisible ball. “So lemme tell you a story, Spooks.
“See, in the game of baseball, there’s usually a fun rivalry between teams, yeah? That tension helps keep players motivated, gets the audience excited, gets butts in seats, right?” Lefty paced around in front of his captive, hands moving, punctuating his sentences by looking to Spooky. “Maybe that tension boils over and coaches do their best to remind the players what they’re really here for: the game, right? I’ve been a part of these kinds of rivalries over the years, but I always try to meet with the other players and hash it out, take ‘em to a bar, maybe even go on a quick adventure.” He smirked at the boy. “Nothin’ brings you closer than trusting the other person to cram a potion down your unconscious throat.
“Some of my best friends are people I’ve had beef with in the past. You’d never know it to see us nowadays.” He wandered closer to the chair with his book. “So I don’t mind a bit of… discord between players.” Leaned against the wall beside the chair stood a baseball bat. “But you, Spooks,” he grabbed the bad and pointed it at the younger man, “you just don’t seem to know what’s good for the game.”
True to his name, Spooky could not turn any whiter, though panic filled his eyes. He shook his head, protest muffled by the sock in his mouth.
Lefty spun the bat, a grin on his face. “Oh, but I know you’re just new, Spooks. A rookie just followin’ orders from his Captain, right?” Spooky nodded vehemently. “But, see, Captains don’t get to where they are without becoming some kind of untouchable, right?” He stepped closer. “They got bombs ready to go off if anybody tries to sneak up on ‘em. Someone else’ll take the fall for ‘em, maybe they got friends in higher places. But you gotta send a message somehow, right?” Both hands gripped the bat’s base. “Maybe find someone they care about, like… a family member or somethin’. Or someone they love like family.”
Spooky’s brow furrowed, white eyes darting between Lefty’s face and his hands on the bat.
“I’m pretty fast, throwing the ball, makin’ enemies, makin’ friends, even makin’ connections. That’s why I chose you.” Dark eyes fell on Spooky, the bat moving slowly into position. “I know how bad it’ll hurt Sherriff to find your body in the dugout tomorrow morning.”
Welcome to Whumptober 2022, in its fifth year of running!
To those of you who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone new, WELCOME!
Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.
This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.
With that being said, we’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators, see what juicy whump they’ve created too! We wish you all the fun!
(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information and FAQs are posted below the cut!)
Hello and welcome to our second annual Flufftober 🥳
We’re so excited to be back and to once again have you here!
Let’s fill the month of October with as much fluff as possible 🥰
You’ll find the entire prompt list - as well as a list of prompt substitutes! - at the end of this post so you can easily copy/paste it all. But first:
Rules & FAQ
No inc*st or p*dophilia - we can’t keep you from writing it or creating art for it but it won’t be reblogged.
No hate or ship bashing - we’re all different and we all love different things. As long as it doesn’t go against rule #1, it’s allowed.
Tag correctly! Trigger warnings (including cheating!), ships, ratings, (pure) smut, etc - it’s all fine as long as you tag it.
There’s absolutely no word count restriction, write as little or as much as you like.
In regards to art, anything goes: drawings, paintings, collages, mood boards, gifsets, videos, playlists… the sky’s the limit (though not really…)
While we can’t force you to write fluff or create fluffy art, please try to keep in mind that this is a fluff event 😉
You can start writing and/or arting as soon as you see this - but please refrain from posting before the respective day.
You can participate on as many days as you like, even if it’s just one; you can also create multiple entries for the same day.
NEW this year are our prompt substitutes! These are the five most loved prompts from the previous year, and you can use as many of them as you like instead of five prompts from the original list - or even in addition, that's completely up to you.
It’s okay to write one story/a series for all the prompts as long as it’s separated into chapters and the respective chapter/work is posted on the given day.
You do not have to stick to one ship or even one fandom - switch as often as you like to or even write for multiple ships for one day.
The ship does not have to be a romantic one! Friendship and family feels are more than welcome (but this is not a way to get around rule #1!)
This event can be combined with other events as long as the other event allows it.
Late entries are always welcome, even if it is months later.
All fandoms and ships are welcome - fanon and canon - as long as they’re of age (in case you want to add smut) and not related.
Posting
Posting to tumblr
Please use the tag #flufftober2022
Since tags are sometimes wonky, make sure to also add @flufftober in your post
We will try to catch them all, but please don't be mad if we miss a post or if it gets reblogged a bit late
If you're absolutely certain a post has slipped past us, feel free to send an ask with the link to your post
To make reblogging easier for us, make sure to add the following tags: #flufftober2022 #day [xy] #[fandom] #[ship and/or main character(s)]
If you're using a prompt substitute, instead of #day [xy] tag it as #alt 1, 2, 3, 4, or 5
Posting to ao3
You can add your creation to the collection flufftober2022 or flufftober_2022 (yes, we've claimed both because so many people added to the wrong collection last year 😅)
Late entries are always welcome, on tumblr as well as the ao3 collection! Neither will close - but like last year, reblogs will become less and less and further apart the more months pass...
Prompts
1. Wearing Each Other’s Clothes
2. “You’ve told your parents?”
3. Thick as Thieves
4. Supporting Silly Quirks/Hobbies
5. “Oh no, you’re a Morning Person!”
6. Candles, Lanterns, Fairy Lights
7. Movie Marathon
8. Shooting Stars
9. Game Day (Sports)
10. Love Language
11. Poetry, Art, Music, Craft
12. “You kept this?”
13. Secret Family Recipe
14. Truth or Dare/20 Questions
15. Accidents don't just happen accidentally
16. “I hate you” – “I love you too”
17. Animal Shelter
18. Soulmate AU
19. Hot Chocolate
20. Bedtime Stories
21. Kiss for Good Luck
22. “Have you heard?”
23. POV Outsider
24. All the Hugs
25. First Dance
26. Blankets
27. Reunion
28. Picnic
29. Leaves
30. Dear Diary
31. A Sweet Treat
Prompt Substitutes
Last year, many of you asked for it, this year we're delivering 😊 introducing: Prompts Substitutes!
As explained in the rules, these can be used if there are prompts in the original list that you don't like for whatever reason. No need to explain or apologize for it, simply switch them with one of the five most loved prompts from last year. Or... you know... just add these five to your list of 31 prompts that want to be written 😉
Hey y’all! September is almost over, and we’ve decided to join the October Art Challenge Hype (affectionate)! Here’s the prompt list, followed by some explanations:
Weekly Prompts:
Week 1 (1st to 8th): A thin line
Week 2 (9th to 16th): A leap of faith
Week 3 (17th to 24th): In the eye of the beholder
Week 4 (25th to 31st): By any other name
Daily Prompts:
Day 1: Bat
Day 2: Trip
Day 3: Lift
Day 4: Bloom
Day 5: Count
Day 6: Lead
Day 7: Jerk
Day 8: Delight
Day 9: Fly
Day 10: Deep
Day 11: Code
Day 12: Hide
Day 13: Pet
Day 14: Experiment
Day 15: Nourishment
Day 16: Post
Day 17: Close
Day 18: Mood
Day 19: Stress
Day 20: Celestial
Day 21: Wave
Day 22: Teeth
Day 23: Macabre
Day 24: Mountain
Day 25: Rough
Day 26: Fight
Day 27: Blue
Day 28: Secret
Day 29: Roam
Day 30: Closet
Day 31: Music
All right, now on to the explanations! (under the cut, because length)
Here is the list for October this year. Write something short (or long) and tag it with #fictober22 in the first five tags. Let’s see your creativity!
"I chose you."
"Nobody warned you about me?"
"That was not my intention."
"How would that even work?"
"No, anything but that."
"Adaptable, I like that."
"Check that again, are you sure?"
"Do you remember?"
"Sounds like a you problem."
"It's my name on the line."
"Think! For once!"
"You're making my head hurt."
"I don't want you to do that."
"Yes. No. I don't know."
"What are you doing?"
"You're looking, but you don't see."
"Are you serious?"
"I don't think this is your problem."
"Do we have a deal?"
"There's only us."
"I never said that."
"Who said this is a good idea?"
"Not on my watch!"
"Is this safe?"
"You know I'd do anything."
"I'm doing it, shut up."
"That's not why we're doing this."
"We all have our reasons."
"You love this, don't you?"
"I know what this looks like."
"I'm not alone and neither are you."
This event is open to fanfiction and original fiction.
Start the first of October. You do not have to do the prompts in order. Tag your posts with #fictober22. Please state at the top if your entry is original fiction or fanfiction and what fandom. State common warnings and triggers at the top and tag accordingly. I reserve the right to not reblog fics that I find inappropriate. I will reblog things here on @fictober-event, follow this blog to see all the entries.
romaincrisis
snowghoul
stormborns
annaxmalina
theartofmadeline
pixelskylines
