Welcome to another Angstober, now in its third year!
The challenge is once again open to fandom and original works, in any medium.
To take part, tag your works with #angstober2022, and the day of the prompt (#day 01 for ex.). If you want to share your work on AO3, submit it to the Angstober collection!
You can post your works in any order, early or late. You can do as few or as many as you like. We will do our best to re-blog your tagged posts during the month of October.
Angstober 2022 Prompt List
Day 1: Miscommunication
Day 2: Crack in the Mirror
Day 3: Flashbacks
Day 4: Heat
Day 5: Hearts to Cinder
Day 6: Injury
Day 7: Never Again
Day 8: Haunted Pet
Day 9: Scream
Day 10: Apathy
Day 11: The Wrong Tomb
Day 12: Eyes
Day 13: Worthless
Day 14: Ashes to Life
Day 15: Drugged
Day 16: Love & Hate
Day 17: The Abyss Looks Back
Day 18: False Death
Day 19: Cowardice
Day 20: Death’s Companion
Day 21: Memories
Day 22: Corruption
Day 23: Slay it with Flowers
Day 24: Shivering
Day 25: Wasteland
Day 26: Dark Water
Day 27: Fragments
Day 28: Reunion
Day 29: Sand Towers
Day 30: Failure
Day 31: The Last Goodbye
This year’s banner to add to your posts, should you wish to:
“Madras still writes to you?” Thrawn glanced to the Oovo 4 stamp marring the message stacked atop her correspondence.
“Should have her executed just to stop them,” Pryce snapped. “A waste of flimsi.”
The Grand Admiral picked up the letter, scanned silently.
Pryce never read them. Once she’d tried, but desperate words blurred with painful memories of Juahir’s pleading, tear-filled eyes when her hypocrisy was revealed. Pryce had suggested that one day, she would secure Juahir’s release. But that was merely revenge for the betrayal—false hope. A lie for a lie.
“Crack in the Mirror” inspired by the Angstober 2022 Prompt List.
This composition is based on characters from a webcomic I tried making in my teens. (I’m never going to finish the project, but the characters have a special place in my heart.) The protagonist, Lumina, didn’t exactly import only her own soul into her new body.
5 fictober 5+1 october 2022 challenge drabble sets + 1 extra drabble
iii. october 13-18 | fictober | angstober | who we once were, t, .6k
“I don’t want you to do that,” Sumner says, as if John needs to be told he’s worthless to know it. He’s not about to forget a single one of his failures, not even out here in the unknown.
below or on ao3: five au teams that messed up and one that got it just right
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“I don’t want you to do that,” Sumner says, as if John needs to be told he’s worthless to know it. He’s not about to forget a single one of his failures, not even out here in the unknown.
“Don’t do that,” Elizabeth says. Rodney knows he’s useless in all the ways that matter out here. His brain’s only going to get them so far when they abandon the city.
“Stop it,” Bates says. Aiden understands that he isn’t experienced enough for this, not yet. Out here in Pegasus, he’s never going to have the chance to prove himself, either.
- -
Ronon puts his hand on his blaster. It’s been years, but he still remembers how Teyla had been so still, lifeless on the floor of Michael’s lab when they’d found her.
But here she is again, beautiful, confused, cautious, alive where she sits.
Sheppard’s as far back from the replicator bed as possible when he says, “Teyla.”
“Colonel,” Teyla says. She sounds like herself. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes,” Sheppard says, but shakes his head, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “No. I don’t know.”
This mistake is going to bite them in the ass, and Ronon bets it’ll be soon.
- - -
“What are you doing?” Sheppard asks, his head rolling to track Rodney.
“It’s okay,” Rodney says, his throat tight.
There’s a Marine at the door, Lieutenant Forbes maybe, but Rodney isn’t about to leave.
Sheppard winces as his blood is drawn. “What’s happening?”
“You have unique genes, Mr. Sheppard,” Carson says, but Sheppard’s still looking at Rodney.
“The President just needed to ensure your cooperation,” Rodney says, stepping forward. He places a hand on Sheppard’s shoulder. A month ago they’d been sharing a bed, but here he is, party to Sheppard’s detainment.
Ford raises his gun. “Hands off the prisoner.”
- - - -
Teyla’s in the infirmary and despite Lorne’s assurances, John knows it’s his fault. He shouldn’t be on missions. He should never have left Earth at all.
McKay pulls him closer, but it makes John’s stomach turn.
“You’re looking, but you don’t see,” John says.
“I told you not to talk to the Wraith,” McKay murmurs, kissing him too gently.
John closes his eyes, imagines the Wraith sliding between his thoughts, imagines how it would feel to have his life drained, imagines lying in the desert, waiting to die. The Wraith is the only one who knows exactly what John’s worth.
- - - - -
“Are you serious? Twelve percent?” Rodney shoves the ZPM unceremoniously into his case. They all know that won’t be nearly enough, not with the Enemy on the doorstep.
John has his gun on the priest by the door. Once, they might have bartered for the ZPM, worked with the people of this planet to reach a mutual accord. Maybe, someday, they’ll be able to afford such niceties again.
“We are not who we once were,” Teyla says, switching positions with John, letting him take point for their retreat.
Ronon pushes Rodney past her. “Yeah, well, we ran out of time.”
+
Rather than the peace and quiet she’s looking for, Elizabeth finds Sheppard in the lab.
“I don’t know how they did it,” Sheppard says, glaring at the whiteboard.
“John,” Elizabeth says. “I don’t think this is your problem. Not anymore.”
Sheppard doesn’t look at her, keeps staring at the board. “He should’ve died,” he says, like he’s angry at Rod for returning.
He’s not really angry, of course. Elizabeth isn’t either. She doesn’t know how they would’ve survived the gap Rod left behind.
“Go to the party,” Elizabeth says, steering Sheppard toward the door. “Maybe you’ll find some answers there.”
By each other we pass by, our meeting as fleeting as the brush of wings
Ahsoka and Vader meet again.
Everything has changed since the last time they saw each other. And yet, in many ways, nothing may have. Finished, 886 words.
@angstober
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There had been a disturbance on Canyon. Vader was called to deal with the issue.
It had been months since Vader’s temporary departure. He had yet to regain Sidious’ full confidence since then, and he was eager to prove to his Master that his loyalty remained Sidious’. Anakin Skywalker’s ghosts held no sway on his psyche. Vader wouldn’t be tricked again. Not that their paths would ever cross. Kenobi and Tano hid better than womp rats. There had not been a peep from them in months.
Vader froze as the so-called ‘Jedi’ he was supposed to defeat came within sight. Vader would have to punish the informant for this fault. That particular rebel was no Jedi. She had made that part clear.
His troopers had cornered her near the wall, both figuratively and literally. The Togruta was bloody and bruised, likely injured in her previous fight. A wave of protection surged in Vader’s heart, but he suppressed it quickly. Third Sister was dead at her feet. A waste. But not one he would miss.
Regaining control of his frozen limbs, Vader spoke.
“We meet again.”
“Anakin.” He gritted his teeth. That was not his name. “Why?”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
“What are you going to name her?” his sister Julieta asks him softly, the corners of her eyes crinkling in concern as she lays a hand on his arm.
For a moment, his daughter quiets to stare up at him.
There’s only one name that will fit her, that describes what she is to him.
“Mirabel,” Bruno croaks. “Mirabel.”