#AUtober (or #AUnytime) Prompt Challenge 30+1 Alternate Universe Art/Fic/Etc. genres for your OCs/Fandoms - organised for maximum reusability! Please check @autober’s page for a text version of the list.
Officially #AUtober so it can be combined with other October challenges like Drawtober, but feel free to do it #AUnytime! This list is usable for challenges of any sort - doodling, drawing, writing, or otherwise - and can be used in any way: do all, pick some, and/or combine at will.
Use the #AUtober tag (or #AUnytime outside of October) and tag @autober to be reblogged to the AUtober tumblr. Have fun!
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Prompt: The Bitterness of Lost Love or 5 Times Kat spoke to Wilona + 1 time she didn't
1
The tang of blood filled her mouth as she bit her lip so hard it split. The cut stung even more as she lifted the steaming cup of bitter coffee to her lips, letting the too-hot liquid burn the inside of her mouth as it mixed with the blood. She would give anything to feel those sensations right now, but it felt impossible. She stared ahead, seeing brown eyes and green hair in her memories, that calming presence sitting across from her in this very room, her excited words echoing in her mind.
“Wilona.” Her name breaks her from her reverie.
“Do you need more coffee?” The words come through in that strong so familiar accent, spilling from green lips that almost matched those she kissed each day, but just slightly off.
Wrong.
“I’m fine,” she responds quietly.
A lie in many ways.
Her coffee cup sat nearly as empty as her soul in that moment. The bitterness seeped into her bones as she felt a tug on her sleeve.
“Auntie Wilona, where’s Auntie Kat?” came the small voice to her right. She felt her neck turn slow;y to look at the small green flop of hair. She barely felt herself move as her knees collapsed onto the floor and she crushed the small girl into a hug, sobs wracking her body uncontrollably, and finally she could feel again.
And it was awful.
2
She had been feeling for too long now. It was nice to be numb again. The white snow around her slowly melted and stained itself red with her warm blood as it seeped out of the gash in her side.
“Come on Wilona, you have to get up,” she heard her voice call. Beckoning her back to years ago when she found her half dead on the ground, much like this.
She blearily opened her eyes to see green hair curtained over her as someone leaned down above her.
“Kat?” she rasped.
“Oh, sweetheart. You’re not joining her yet. Come here.” Her mother soothed as she pulled her up from the snow, the pain searing into her again.
3
The pain split through her lip again as she felt a fist impact with her face. There was no warm coffee to soothe her this time, no hugs from family. She quickly regained her footing and punched her assailant back, watching as a tooth clattered to the floor. She had barely a moment to bask in her victory before guards grabbed her by the arms and tossed her back into her cell. As she was tossed onto the floor she heard that voice ask her,
“How did you end up here?”
She turned to see warm brown eyes staring her down and for a moment imagined the green skin surrounding them, before she quickly snapped back to reality and met the brown eyes of her cellmate.
“I’m here because I deserve to be,” she spat out, blood accompanying her words.
4
“Why are you here?” came the question at the entrance to the graveyard.
“For family or friends, or just to walk?”
She paused, the words caught in her throat.
“My wife is buried here,” she finally choked out.
“Oh I see,” came the sympathetic voice, “is this your first Festival, dear?”
“...it is. I’m not from here. We just happened to be in town when… when she… so she’s buried here.”
“You don;t have to participate, you know. You could leave her to rest if that feels easier. Our traditions aren’t for everyone.”
“ No. No, I want to see her.”
“Very well.”
And she trudged on, making her way to the stone casket marked:
Katerina Baranov
Beloved sister, daughter, and partner.
She spent the day telling her stories of their lives. Even laughing at the memories of silly things they had gotten up to together. She could almost hear her tinkling cackle of a laugh joining her.
The next day she held her hand as she paraded down the main square. Families lovingly spoke to their lost loved ones as they slowly moved through the place they had known in life. The bitterness swept into the back of her throat as she remembered how little time her wife had spent here, and the many other places she would never see again. But she swallowed it and walked on, imagining the hand in hers was squeezing back just as hard.
5
Wilona gripped the handle of her dagger in her hand, the blunt edge denting her palm in its intensity. Just a few more seconds. Just a moment more and the guards would pass and she could sneak in. “What are you doing, my love?” she could almost hear echoing in her ear.
“This is dangerous, you’re going to get hurt.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the voice. It wasn’t real. She was gone.
Finally her moment came, and she jumped into action. Carefully stepping over arcane traps she made her way to the center of the room and grabbed the green crystal. As she held it in her hand she couldn’t help but imagine the same shade of skin clutched between her fingers, determined to never let go.
+1
They were an easy mark. Traveling in these woods was dangerous after the wizard was no longer around to keep an eye on things. She made sure of this around this time of year. Her grief wouldn’t stop her from doing what she did best. Though, Kat’s voice in the back of her head disagreed and…
And that strong accent filtered through the trees. As her archers got into position and the rest of the bandits crept forward Wilona heard that voice not in the back of her head, but in front of her.
Her bandits revealed themselves, ready for a fight as the group steadied themselves and reached for their weapons. A wooden bow was pulled out expertly as deft green fingers knocked an arrow. Those warm brown eyes flicked from person to person and crossed over her like she was the ghost and not the woman standing in front of her.
She reached up to pull the mask from her face and stepped forward.
love is silently holding your phone up to someone to show them a stupid post you know will make them laugh just so you can delight in hearing their joy
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the prompt list is out! these prompts were chosen entirely from a poll that you guys filled out! the 28 days of february are filled (in a random order) with the top 28 prompts as voted for by you guys! the 10 switch outs are the next in your favourites, with a few write-in prompts too!
i look forward to seeing everyone create with these prompts, and if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to check out the blog’s FAQ and ask!
Prompt 1: An impulse buy leading to intergalactic warfare.
The bell above the door rang clearly through the hot summer air, the door eliciting a gentle creak as it was pushed tentatively aside to allow a small gust of wind to flow through the shop, accompanied by the quiet thud of a pair of boots stepping over the threshold. A curious pair of eyes scanned over the well-worn shop, filled to the brim with what could only be described as knick-knacks, or odds-and-ends, most lightly blanketed with a thin layer of dust. Again, the boots made their quiet thuds as the soon-to-be-customer crept into the quiet shop, allowing the door behind them to drift shut, disturbing the bell once again. The customer called out, their hesitant greeting nearly matching the clear tone of the bell, and upon receiving no response, carefully tread further into the maze of tables and shelves lining the shop, fingers occasionally sweeping a line through the dust gathered on the trinkets displayed haphazardly around them.
It was at the very back of the shop that they paused to see a small stained-glass window revealing a nearly overgrown garden full of plants they couldn’t quite recognize. After taking a moment to appreciate the gentle greens and vivacious hues the garden and the window had to offer, they began to turn back to the center of the shop, when the sunlight caught just so on the side of something smooth and shiny, catching those curious eyes and turning their head. A gasp nearly rang out through the quiet shop at the sight of the object, delicate and beautiful, shining in the yellow sunlight in a way that made the metal it seemed to be made of glisten and almost appear to move, as if it were alive, a heartbeat thrumming in it’s center. As the customer crept closer in awe, a sudden creak of the wood floor behind them finally forced the gasp to escape and bounce loudly off the crowded walls of the shop as the customer whirled around in surprise.
Their fear was quickly assuaged by the kind smile and gentle welcome of the shopkeeper, who appeared as if she herself could be sold as one of the antiquities or odds and ends in the shop, and whose gray hair almost seemed as if it was simply covered in the same layer of dust as her surroundings. The shopkeeper glanced behind the customer at the object, still shining in the brilliant sun, and stated to the customer, that if they would like to make a purchase, they may do so by the front door, and they must not waste any time in doing so. Then the little woman weaved swiftly between the tables and knick-knacks, in way that would have been described as scurrying if it had not been somehow graceful, and planted herself firmly in behind an ancient looking cash register, staring straight ahead as if the bell above the door was her next customer.
The customer was left standing in the colored light cascading through the stained-glass window, still partially in a confused daze. They turned to look again at the strange object on the table, then to glance again at the shopkeeper, who appeared to have begun tapping her foot in impatience, then finally turning again to deliver a contemplative stare to the object still drawing their eye on the table. The longer they stared, debating internally back and forth, the more they were intrigued by the object, the more they could hear the tapping of the shopkeeper’s foot, the more they could almost imagine a heartbeat thrumming in the center of the object. Finally, they decided. Why not? They gently scooped up the object between their palms, it felt warm against their cool skin, surely from sitting beneath the hot sun all day, and they began to weave their way to the front.
The placing of the object down next to the worn metal cash register finally ceased the tapping of the shopkeeper’s foot as she glanced incredulously between the object and the customer, who was surprised when she asked if they were sure, as she had seemed so eager for them to make a purchase. The customer confirmed their intention to purchase, and inquired the price. This brought a strange smile to the wrinkled face of the shopkeeper. The price, she explained, would not come today. The price would come soon enough, but they must decide now if they are prepared for it. And the confused customer could do little else but agree, as the shopkeeper quickly placed the object in to a small velvet bag, and ushered them out the door as the bell sang their swift exit. And so that is how they would themselves, standing on a quiet street on a warm summer’s day, wallet not a cent lighter, and yet a new possession snuggled firmly in a soft bag in their hand.
It was only much later, when the sky now shone a color that was decidedly not blue, when screams echoed through every street, when light shone down in beams of destruction, when unfamiliar entities now walked past homes where families huddled close in silent terror, it was only then that they understood the meaning of the shopkeeper’s few words. It was only as the light came swiftly toward them, a tattered velvet bag clenched in their hand, and tears flowing from their eyes, that they understood the price.
Best way to get out of writer’s block? Just write.
I’m probably not going to do these every single day, and idk if I’ll do all the prompts, or all in order, and I’ll probably sprinkle in some other prompts I find, but I thought I’d just put out what I write as a bit of motivation for myself!
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Once upon a time, a king and a queen forgot to invite a powerful fairy to the christening of their child. It was a terrible mistake. The child grew into a remarkable young royal, a perfect candidate to become the future monarch. At their side through it all was a faithful guard, one of their peers, who from a young age had been trained and taught to keep watch over them, to protect them and keep them safe.
Yet on the child’s eighteenth birthday, they fell victim to the curse the fairy had placed on them all those years ago, collapsing into a deep sleep. Their guard had been outside the walls when it happened, however, and was separated from them by a wall of tangling thorns and roses. Horror set in, but the guard was determined. They sought out the royal to which their charge had been engaged, and brought them back, hacking a path through the brush to the tower where the royal lay.
The fiancé, upon approaching the sleeping royal carefully leaned down and kissed them, yet nothing happened, and so they turned and started to leave. The guard, disappointed, pressed a small kiss to the royal’s forehead, promising them that they would bring all the princes and princesses of the world to see if any would wake the sleeping royal up.
But then the royal’s eyes slowly fluttered open, and they found themselves looking at their one true love - the guard.
- Rapunzel is the witch’s illegitimate daughter, and she is being kept safe from a king who would have her killed on sight.
- The Little Match Girl is a now phantom luring people to their deaths.
- Little Red Riding Hood is a werewolf.
- “So… You’re the Pied Piper, eh? I thought you’d be taller.”
- Princess Snow White and the evil Snow Queen? One and the same.
- “If you value your life, my life, the lives of everyone in this city… you won’t wake the sleeping princess.”
- The land of the Twelve Dancing Princesses is falling apart at the seams, and the rest of reality with it.
- A witch who made some bad decisions in her youth is forced to adopt and raise a child.
- After Jack the Giant Killer ruthlessly murdered their king and threw their world into turmoil and war, the inhabitants of the Sky Kingdom must rebuild their lives.
- “What… what is it?”
“A firebird – the last of her kind.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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