#Emptober prompt

[strawberri-animates]

EMPTOBER DAY 1 - Codfather Does A Blink

more verions & emptober sheet below cut off

version with no effects:

I was gonna include the animatic/sketch gif too, but tumblr said it was ‘too big of an image’. Okay THANKS TUMBLR.

My ‘version’ of Emptober

[waytooobsessedwithmcyt]

Following @strawberri-animates's emptober idea, day one is normal but I didn't feel like writing an entire fanfic since I only remembered at 8:30 at night so just have some rambling about nature wives headcanons

Witches aren't allowed to marry humans because they're isolationist, but they took one look at Shelby and Katherine and went "these bitches gay, we can't stop them"

Katherine and Shelby's first kiss was in the Evermoore and the ghosts were just yelling "finally!" And bets were being cashed in

The witches are pretty "anything that isn't "normal" is bad" and so when Shelby looked through the library at Katherine's castle and found a book about the Emperors, she was absolutely thrilled to find a picture of High Wizard Gemini with a bi and a trans flag, she pretty much squealed about it excitedly the entire day

Katherine is naturally flirty, Shelby tries to flirt back but just devolves into incoherent muttering and blushing

Gem has literally sprayed Katherine with a water bottle because she wouldn't stop talking about how pretty Shelby was

How is any of this related to normal? This was originally meant to be domestic hcs but I'm ADHD and got sidetracked, also, no idea if I should tag the og creator of the Emptober calendar I'm following, don't know proper Tumblr protocol yet, sorry

[tev-the-random]

Emptober Day 1 - Trinket

Fwhip had his flaws, that was undeniable. But he was also, under the doubt of no one, the kind of person who saw some sort of value in everything. Where there were possibilities, there was opportunity, and where there was trash, there was treasure.

It had started with toys.

The young heir of Grimlands was known by the staff of the mansion to be a horribly careless child. Anything he touched, he broke. However, it was never a matter of clumsiness, as most thought, but rather, curiosity: if he had a toy train, he would take it apart to see what made it move; if someone gave the twins a doll, he would dismember it to see how the joints were connected; if his sister was gifted a plushie, he would find a way to pull it apart at the seams to see what was inside. Nothing was safe within his reach.

When eventually Fwhip learned to be more considerate of his sister’s possessions, Gem had already moved on to entertaining herself with books. Her brother’s reputation as a trouble child was established, and he would only grow to earn it as the years went by. Though sometimes Gem hoped he would get in trouble, deep down she was fascinated whenever he came back to her with his discoveries.

-

It was around the time Fwhip had discovered redstone that Gem discovered magic.

At first, their learning experience was ridden with issues: while Gemini would find her powers going out of control and set fire to her curtains at least once a week, Fwhip would more often than not create giant messes of red dust that didn’t actually do anything. But while she was a sponge of knowledge, he was a tinkerer at heart, and slowly but surely, they balanced each other out. He helped her make tools that would stabilize her spells or, at the very least, do damage control, which he was no stranger to. She helped him keep track of his work and find new obscure sources and tips on the matter of redstone.

Fwhip’s toys no longer interested him as a whole. Their parts, however, were always useful. Soon he would find himself getting his hands on old clocks, broken pistons, jammed dispensers and silent jukeboxes for their functioning pieces, and an ever-growing collection started to be hoarded. Everything could be taken apart and put together as something else, something new.

As the twins became masters of their craft, the Grimlands became their canvas. The two of them tried to solve every single problem in the most extravagant ways, and all it took for them to get banned from the forge entirely was just a little bit of creativity and constant bickering about the right way to do things. Whatever trouble they could get into, whatever responsibilities they could avoid, they did, and they covered for each other just as much as they laughed at their own mistakes. Or at least, Fwhip did.

When gunpowder was introduced to his arsenal of materials, Fwhip quickly became used to experiments exploding in his face. If anything, he liked setting things on fire and relished in his errors. Gem, on the other hand, took her role as the responsible sibling seriously. More and more often she would lecture her brother on the dangers of his recklessness, and the time she spent in her room or in the library would only increase. The truth was, magic was a volatile and dangerous thing. Though her own dignity kept her from saying it out loud, Gem greatly feared endangering others if her technique was anything less than perfect, if she was anything other than wise.

Fwhip thought she worried too much. Once again, they balanced each other out, for he was the calm and the chaos to her anxiety and her focus, respectively. Much like two cogs in a big machine, they naturally moved one another.

But as the end of their teenage years steadily approached, those gears found themselves trying to spin in contrasting directions.

Fwhip had plans for their empire. Though he never thought of himself as much of a ruler, he had the rising ambition to make the Grimlands the most advanced nation in the continent. His once childish dreams had flourished into the knowledge that his home had just as much potential as he did. The possibilities were endless, and so were his ideas.

Gem, on the other hand, knew her destiny was elsewhere. Her homeland had its own magic, to be sure, but it definitely wasn’t known for it; there had been no native wizards for generations. She had the growing feeling of being stuck in a cage, kept away from so many wonders. The source of all the crystals they imported, the magical creatures that couldn’t withstand the bustling society of the Grimlands, her own space to let her magic lose, all of that could be just over the mountains. Gem had a talent, and she knew that if she were to pursue it, to become a proper wizard, she would have to leave her life, her family and her future throne behind.

It didn’t take long for Fwhip to notice his sister’s pensiveness, and no longer for him to figure out the reason. He didn’t blame her. But maybe there was something he could do.

-

‘Hey, Gem? Can you help me with something real quick?’

She considered responding with “no, I’m busy” and closing the door on his face. But there was something about his eagerness that made her sigh and agree to follow him instead.

Unlike Fwhip, she hadn’t intruded her sibling’s personal space in years, and she was glad she didn’t; his bedroom was an absolute nightmare. All sorts of schematics and blueprints filled the walls and littered the floor. Bits and pieces of machinery were scattered all around the spacious room, as well as dead potted flowers, copper cables, broken arrows and one too many sticks of TNT. A light coat of redstone dust seemed to cover everything.

‘How do you live like this?’

‘It’s called organised chaos, Gem.’ And indeed, like someone who knew exactly how to manoeuvre around the mess, Fwhip entered the room with ease.

‘You should really get yourself a workshop to put all of this stuff.’ Gem followed, walking on the tip of her toes to avoid stepping on anything important. ‘You shouldn’t sleep on top of all of this junk.’

‘Hey, it’s not junk! These are my things, thank you very much’ Fwhip said in the most dignified manner. He started going through his drawers as he continued. ‘Anyway, you said you might be studying abroad next year, right? You were trying to convince dad or something.’

‘Yeah... I could really use some field experience, and there are some great wizards in Rivendell. Dad says it might be good for our external relations, so there is a possibility.’

‘Ugh, it’s always business with you two.’ Finally, the tinkerer pulled a small bag from the dark void that were his possessions. It chimed quietly when he shook it.

‘Look, if you don’t actually need me for anything, I’ll go back to-’

‘No no no, come here!’

As Gem approached, Fwhip pushed all the materials that were on top of his desk onto the floor, gaining some space to empty the bag. Its contents sparkled under the beam of sunlight that was coming through the window, though it didn’t shine as much as the young wizard’s eyes.

‘Wha- how did you get these?’ Her voice was a mix of reprimand, curiosity and sheer delight. She carefully picked up one of the polished pieces of amethyst and rolled it around in her hands, feeling the smallest tingle of magic within it.

Fwhip gave her a cocky smile. ‘I have my ways.’ Mimicking his sister, he inspected one of the stones, his brain already drawing all sorts of schemes. ‘You know, I just thought that maybe you could get used to staring at shiny rocks all day, if you’re gonna be a wizard. Besides, we’re neighbours with the Crystal Cliffs, it’d be a waste if all this amethyst got turned into some boring jewellery when we can make something much cooler out of it.’

‘What did you have in mind?’

-

The twins hadn’t spent so much time together in months. Fwhip made the compromise to put some of his things away so they would have space to work. The sun had reached its peak by the time they actually started, and by the time they finished, the moon had already taken its place high in the sky.

While Gem carved sigils, Fwhip broke up pieces of redstone and lapis lazuli. While he tightened screws, she elaborated a concoction in the single-bottle brewing stand he had left on his bedside table. And while she charged and assembled her new shards of amethyst, he wired the system.

If you asked them what they were trying to do, they would only say it was meant to be something beautiful. Something chemical, electrical, magical, something only the two of them would ever think of doing. But of course, their scientific piece of art would never see the light of day: it blew up as soon as they pressed a button.

They screamed.

The tinkerer was glad he had opened his window; whatever it was that Gem had used to fuel their device made it hard to breathe. His sister, on the other hand, was more preoccupied with putting out her hair — after that, she made the mental note to always tie it back when she was working.

‘Oh, that was a disaster,’ Fwhip cried once the smoke started to dissipate. ‘You ok? Gem?’

The wizard didn’t speak for a moment. The tips of her hair were scorched, her face and clothes covered in soot and redstone; she had slightly less eyebrows now than she did when they started, which Fwhip was sure was his case as well. He waited for her to yell at him.

She laughed.

‘Ok, maybe next time we should try something a little less extreme. Oh my goodness...’ She brushed the dust off her blouse, coughing as she laughed at their ridicule. It was easier to do so when there was no one else around to see it. ‘Are you ok?’

‘Yeah, I’m... I’m pretty used to it,’ Fwhip chuckled back at her. ‘First time I’ve seen the fire go purple, though.’

Both of them stared at the now cracked shards of amethyst, which were engulfed in magical lilac flames. As the fire quickly died, Gem reached for one of them; they were freezing cold to the touch, which only increased her interest. This was her first proper, independent magic experiment outside of basic enchanting table stuff.

‘What a shame. I almost thought it would work.’ The young lord picked up a shard of glass from the now destroyed contraption. ‘I see this as a valuable experience, though. If we find out what went wrong, we can try again. I don’t really know much about magic properties, maybe we just overpowered it-’

‘I think I’m good for tonight. Thanks anyway, Fwhip.’ Gem smiled softly. ‘For the amethyst, that it. It was a nice way to spend the day.’

‘You’re saying you like to spend time with me?’ Her brother said in a mocking hopeful tone. She rolled her eyes.

‘Sure. Just don’t get used to it.’

-

‘Hey, Sausage. Can you pass me a wrench, please? There should be one in one of my pockets over there.’

The current count of Grimlands was a very busy man. Whenever he wasn’t upstairs implementing all sorts of improvements to his kingdom, making sure his citizens had everything they needed, or playing much needed pranks on his fellow rulers, he was down here, tinkering away in his workshop.

Though he usually did so alone, today King Sausage had decided to drop by for no reason other than to pester him — affectionately. Well, if he’s going to stick around, he might as well help.

‘Uhhh, what’s this?’

The king of Mythland rummaged trough the pockets of Fwhip’s coat, looking for that wrench when he came by quite the peculiar object. A bent, thin copper wire stringed together a broken amethyst shard and small piece of lapis. It was stained with very old spots of redstone dust. He knew his ally to be quite the hoarder, but this seemed like an odd thing to keep in your pocket.

Fwhip looked away from the salmon tank he was currently screwing to his newest machine and squinted at Sausage, trying to identify what he was holding.

‘Oh, it’s just an old trinket.’ he said.

‘Ah, ok then. Do you want me to throw it away?’

‘Nope. Just put it back where you found it.’

Sausage abided. ‘Is it a lucky charm?’ His voice betrayed his curiosity. He found the tool he was looking for and handed it over.

‘Well, I wouldn’t say it’s lucky,’ Fwhip chortled. ‘It’s a reminder of that time Gem messed up a spell in my room and blew things up. Good times.’

‘You mean we messed up a spell in your room,’ was what announced Gem’s arrival at the secret door to the workshop. ‘The fuel leaking was your fault.’

‘Eh, same difference.’

She rolled her eyes. Sausage barely got a wave or a greeting before the Great Wizard started to go on a rant about Fwhip planting TNT in Jimmy’s base again. Not that he paid attention to it — surprisingly not because he thought Jimmy deserved it, which he did, but because something else caught his eye.

Huh. He never noticed how the tiny amethyst that made Gem’s earring was cracked, nor the awkward way it was stringed to a little piece of lapis, despite how often she wore it.

And here he thought she wasn’t one to collect trinkets.

[blockcraft]

Eternity

[emptober]

Day 28: Weeping

Sausage was thrilled at the arrival of new people! Jevin and Keralis, as strange as they were ("What's a YouTube?") were excellent additions to Sanctuary, and the others that came out of the rift were equally as fascinating!

...But why did he always feel like crying whenever he saw PearlescentMoon?

[c-r-ash-crash]

Emptober Day Seven: Sunflower

Sunflowers smelled like memories.  They reminded him of golden wheat fields, of blooming orchards, of an empire of farmers and warriors.  They reminded him of plants woven into the rafters of porches and vines climbing up the walls.  They reminded him of a kind smile and reassuring laughter and the hope that everything would be okay.  They reminded him of a friend and farmer queen assuring him that he would be okay.

Wither Roses smelled like memories too.  They reminded him of amethyst roofs and soaring gothic architecture.  They reminded him of fiery red hair and twin laughter and fierce determination.  They reminded him of unbreakable promises abandoned at the thought of power.  They reminded him of the ruins of a great forge, a dragon perched on a wizard’s shoulders and the three of them separated as the world ended.

His dreams were memories too.  They were of places and people and lives he didn’t know.  They were memories, but they weren’t his.

Everything was memories, every flower or dream or waking moment.  Every moment was spent with him walking through the minds and emotions and lives of others.  Sausage wondered when he would get to live his own life.

[oldmichi]

[prismadog]

Found Family AU: Childhood [Emptober 5th]

so...yeah...two days late now, sorry about that. I, once again, struggled to come up with an idea. some of these prompts would be better suited for artwork but if I tried that, well, then there'd never be any content - not for a lack of trying, just, I'm really slow when it comes to drawing [there is a Lizzie, Jimmy, and Joel wip that's been sitting open for at least three weeks now. and a Scott & Xornoth concept wip that's been sitting around for about a month, if not more.]

but hey, got one out finally. honestly, probably should've started these when I first found the prompt list last month, but I didn't even think I was going to do this until the night before October 1st.

I took a slightly different turn with the prompt - it's still "childhood" but...not. it's about Lord of Mars. It's a bit longer than planned, might not be a perfect childhood segment, but hey, I tried. I'm running on a few hours sleep, at least, so, yeah, hope you guys enjoy it anyway!

-

Childhood

Lord of Mars sits behind his gravestone, dark eyes on his pack - his family, his brothers and sisters, his Mother - that sit surrounding it, grieving his death. in the center, with Mother at her back, is his sister Shrub, planting one of her mushrooms in the dirt.

"we should all aspire to be like Mars," the little gnome says, her voice soft and strained. she sits back on her heels, resting against Mother's chest, and sniffles.

Mother nuzzles Shrub, wrapping a large paw around her smaller body and pulling her close. Shrub, in turn, latches onto the huge direwolf and buries her face in her fur. her body starts shaking.

his siblings stay for a moment longer, nuzzling each other in comfort, then return to their posts - just because one of their own has fallen, does not mean they can slack in their duties of protecting their territory, their forest, their home.

Mars watches his sister and Mother, looking back over his short life.

-

Mars, before he was known as such, was the runt of a litter of four - Venus, Gemini, and Cancer. they were bigger than him, stronger than him, more vocal than him. he couldn't keep up with them, but they didn't hold it against him - runts happen and in this pack, the runts are well-taken care of.

Mother babied him, always kept him close and nuzzled him and made sure he never strayed far from her side. she also kept a close eye on him when he played with his littermates - if things got a bit too rough, Mother would step in and pull him away. he never liked that but who was he to argue against Mother - she's the Guardian of the Forest.

he was barely over one moon old when Shrub came into their lives. there was a storm and Mother ran from the den, he didn't know why and neither did anyone else - not his littermates, not his older siblings - but his elder brothers and sisters didn't seem overly worried, they just silently kept watch for her return.

and return she did, not long later, with a new packmate in tow. the creature, later he found she was called a 'gnome', clung to Mother's side, cold and wet, making the same sounds that he and the other pups make when they're upset. Mother brought the creature into the den and settled around the little thing, comforting it when the others came close.

thunder clashed overhead and the creature startled, the crying worsening. it wasn't his first storm but he still pushed his way to the front, to Mother, where he snuggled into her side. his siblings, littermates and all, joined into a pile.

the pups lay practically on top of the creature, vying for attention from it and Mother. and the older dire wolves lay close, bodies touching in the form of comfort, of safety, of protection.

Shrub, as she later introduced herself, was one of them from the moment Mother brought her into the den.

he grew up at the gnome's side, playing with her and learning with her the ways of the pack - how to keep guard, how to fight, how to protect their home. she in turn gave them names - Mother was dubbed Lady Sun, the eldest was Lord of the Moon, his older sisters Aries and Taurus, his older brother Mercury, his littermates Venus and Gemini and Cancer, and he was named Mars.

nearing his fifth moon, another creature came to them, a spirit, this one reeking of darkness, a permanent sinister grin on its face. Mother's kind sweet nature became that of a warrior - she stood before the beast, growling low in her throat, her body ready to spring, her hackles raised. this was the first time he'd seen Mother in such a way.

the beast, the demon - the spirits of the forest whispered - stood silently, as though unafraid of the predator defending her pack. "S̵̙͕̀̃ḣ̖̻͛̓r̴̨̦͕̝ư̡͕̭̇b̬͖̏́͢," it called in a voice that was the very essence of evil. ["Shrub"]

the gnome, his sister, who was hiding with his elder siblings, broke past the defense and towards the beast, shrieking in glee. Mother tried to stop her but she was too fast.

Shrub flung herself at the beast, latching onto it and making the kinds of noises the pups make when happy. Mother watched as the beast wrapped the girl up in its arms - she growled and their gnome looked back.

"it's okay, Lady Sun," Shrub said. she released the beast from her embrace but still kept one of her paws on it. "this is my dad! they're just here to say 'hi'," she said, to Mother, to the pack, "I promise they won't hurt any of you!"

true to her word, the beast, Shrub's sire Xornoth - she named him later - never brought harm to the pack. in the time it took Mars to grow into adulthood - 24 moons, 2 cycles - Xornoth never once raised a finger against anyone. not Shrub, not Mother, not his elder siblings, not the pups that followed after him.

the demon simply watched the pack from afar, finding only companionship with their gnome.

-

and now, another several moons since, at the end of one life and the beginning of the next, the demon still watches. Mars sees them behind Mother, on a hill near one of the guardian statues.

the demon looks back at him, crimson eyes seeing him the way Mother can, and bows their head - a show of grief, of sorrow, of honor, for the life lost. he bows his head in kind, then looks to Mother.

Mother turns her head in the demon's direction and nudges the gnome clinging to her. Shrub wipes her eyes and glances up at her father when they appear closer, only a few feet away from them all.

"Dad," is all she says before flinging herself into Xornoth's arms, her crying starting up again.

the demon holds her close. "M͉̅ͮ͒ͤā̤̓̍͘r̴̨̦͕̝s̠҉͍͊ͅ f̵͖̜̉ͅo̯̱̊͊͢ư̡͕̭̇ĝ̽̓̀͑ḣ̖̻͛̓t̲̂̓ͩ̑ w̦̺̐̐͟ẹ̿͋̒̕l̙͖̑̾ͣl̙͖̑̾ͣ," they say, their voice always dripping with malevolence, but the words are softer now, gentler. ["Mars fought well"]

Mars moves to stand with Mother, nuzzling her shoulder. he vows to continue protecting the pack in his new life as a spirit.

---

[kathyrealmstales]

Day 8 of Emptober... Hands..... MY GOSH, THIS KILLED ME! Okay, I dislike drawing hands. so this was a struggle, but I did it! When thinking of this prompt I thought it would be simple to just draw them putting the ring on the other's hand, but then I realized Lizzy... is fish... and has webbed hands... SO SHE CANT WEAR RINGS!!!! So I decided to make a joke out of it. I don't do comics, I tried before, and usually, they fail, so please excuse how this is put together, I know it's bad. text: first panel: "Romantic~" Second: "...Rings don't fit on webbed hands."

[smaidjor]

On Elves and Immortality (Emptober Day 1)

Summary:

Elves are supposed to live forever, according to legend.

Scott, Aeor's Champion, doesn't.

(Prompt fill for Emptober Day 1: Eternity)

Wordcount: 822

Warnings: major character death, blood, religion.

I have nothing to say in my defense besides "I got possessed by the spirit of empires angst and now this exists." Enjoy the fic.

Contrary to most people’s belief, elves do not live forever. They live a long time, yes, longer than any mortal could possibly fathom, but no species is eternal. All beings must eventually return to the void, hearken to the call of entropy, whether they burn out swiftly or fade away over the course of centuries.

No species is eternal. Not even the elves can hold onto their loved ones forever.

And yet...

Elves do not change, people whisper. Elves are eternal, unaging, unchanging.

Scott has never been very elven anyways, he thinks, and laughs. The scars littering his body are proof enough that elves are not so unmarred by the passage of time as the stories say. A scar on his palm from a nasty fall as a child, a scar on his throat from some battle, a scar on his shoulder from his kidnapping. Sometimes he can still feel that rock in his hand, arrow in his throat, flames licking his shoulder.

Exor murmurs in his dreams, offers him eternity with Jimmy if he would just give up the fight. Sweet, sickly promises, as easily broken as a spun strand of sugar. Scott isn’t a fool enough to take the deal, though he admits to being tempted like a child is tempted to steal sweets. How beautiful would it be to steal eternity for himself and his love, reaching out with greedy, grasping fingers for what he isn’t supposed to have?

Aeor speaks to him not at all, but Scott cannot doubt his presence. Not when the antlers on his head grow heavier each day, and his body seems to burn near-constantly. People avert their eyes from him, nowadays, as if Scott is the sun, too blinding to look at directly. He has been claimed by a god, that much he can discern, and he can only hope Aeor will aid him enough to defeat Xornoth.

At first, Aeor is generous with his gifts. He blesses Rivendell with a golden carrot that keeps their harvest free from corruption, potions to turn the crystals from Xornoth’s power to Scott’s. His statue protects the people of Rivendell, looming over them all.

As time wears on, continues its inevitable march forward, Aeor shows less and less kindness to the people of Rivendell. Instead, it falls to Scott to puzzle out ways to keep them safe; he fights on their behalf, finds ways to defeat the corruption without asking for Aeor's blessing, aids his allies where he can. His mere presence now withers away pieces of the corruption, but with every vine he uproots, Scott’s hands grow a little less steady. With every newly shining crystal, his limbs feel a little weaker.

He uproots all the corruption around Rivendell and burns it in a holy flame.

His people cheer.

Scott goes home and collapses into bed, trembling.

-

Jimmy is the one who comes to rouse him for the final fight, concern in his voice even as he can’t quite look at Scott directly.

Scott likes Jimmy. At first, he seemed like a bumbling idiot, but Scott’s learned that his heart is true and strong, and well, doesn’t that just sound like something out of an old tale? Jimmy is braver than he seems, brave as a true hero of old despite- or maybe because of- how painfully, clumsily human he is. More than that, Jimmy is kind, and he makes Scott laugh even as the world is falling to pieces around them. He’s so human; Scott’s love for him is so uncomplicated, so little in the grand scheme of things. Their love won’t rewrite the end of this story or any other, their love won’t calm storms or level mountains.

Their love won’t change the world, but when Jimmy laughs and puts his arms around Scott, it feels like coming home.

So when Jimmy asks Scott to come aid the other rulers in their war against Xornoth, who is Scott to say no? He is a champion of a god, yes, but more than that, he’s a man in love.

It’s Jimmy he’s looking at when he dies, Xornoth’s knife in his back. It’s Jimmy who’s staring back at him as Scott slumps in his brother’s arms, smiles with bloodied teeth and haunted eyes. Jimmy is the one screaming his name as the twin stags fall to the ground, antlers tangled as thoroughly as their fates have always been intertwined; the last word Scott hears is his own name whispered brokenly into his hair- a plea, a prayer, perhaps, to do the one thing Scott cannot: live.

The fall of the stag gods is a beginning as much as it is an ending, but Scott’s not there to see it.

Elves do not live forever.

And yet, centuries later, bards will still sing the tale of an elvenking who sacrificed eternity for peace, gave away his immortal life for the safety of a mortal man.

[strawberri-animates]

sorry for lack of emptober things :<

i wanna do em but i have art block rn sooo- you'll get ALL the prompt art soon but as of rn, im OUT lol. u might get the art even not in october IDK WE'LL SEE. but sorryyyy <3

[tev-the-random]

Emptober Day 3 - Novel

Xornoth wasn’t one for big festivities. Saying the heir of Rivendell was a good liar wasn’t perhaps the most flattering of statements, but at the very least it meant they could be as graceful as an elf of their status should be on important occasions, even when there was nothing they wanted more than to run away. More specifically, it meant they could host this year’s Winter Fest and be very pleasant about it, as their parents requested.

It didn’t mean, however, that they liked it. As the day went on, more and more demands came in. If the festival was to be acceptable, then the preparations had to be perfect, so Xornoth allowed stress to accumulate inside of them like stacks of TNT. They were a good liar, yes, but no amount of fake smiles and soft speaking would save them from the horrible headache that would build up if these explosives weren’t defused before nightfall.

If they were to participate in the festivities without having a potential breakdown at the end of the day, they needed some time to themself.

As expected from someone their age — at least, it would be if they were human. But as an elf, they still had essentially eternity to subvert expectations, — one of their favourite ways to wind down was reading. They loved the silence, the stimulus that stories provided for their imagination, the possibility of entering a world where their parents didn’t look at them the way they did and responsibilities didn’t pile up only to feel so ungratifying and pointless. Or maybe they just liked the atmosphere of the library, they weren’t sure.

‘There you are!’

Xornoth looked up from their book. Scott tracked snow into the Elven Library and somehow dared to look innocent about it. At least they knew they didn’t need to be overly polite to their brother, and for that, they were grateful to have him.

After shaking the water out of his wings, Scott approached them. He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly closed it again, as if they had interrupted him. His eyes fell on the tome Xornoth read, and the curious stare he gave it reminded them of why they weren’t so grateful right now.

‘What are you reading?’

‘A book.’

They returned their gaze to the page to try and find what line they were on before being so inconsequentially interrupted.

‘You don’t say?’ Scott’s sarcasm leaked into his smirk as he rolled his eyes. The youngest elf reached for the book in his brother’s hands and slightly tilted it to read the cover. To his increasing curiosity, it was blank. ‘And what’s it about?’

‘Stuff.’

They turned the page.

‘What kind of stuff?’

‘None of your business.’ They tried to remain impassive.

The candle sat beside them flickered when Scott came closer. He leaned over to take a peek at what they were reading, only for them to immediately close the volume.

‘Do you mind?’

‘I’m just curious!’ The prince stepped back to cross his arms, squinting at his brother in that inquisitive way of his. ‘What’s that, another one of your dark magic manuscripts?’

‘No.’ Those were stashed away under a floorboard in their room; you know, for academic purposes.

They reopened the book in an attempt to resume their relaxing reading time, even though they knew it would be futile. ‘It’s just a novel,’ they added.

‘It must be pretty interesting if you’re so moody about it,’ Scott said with another pinch of sarcasm. He had been full of that for the past decade or so, and Xornoth couldn’t help but wonder if that was just a younger brother thing. ‘Remind me to borrow it when you’re done, then. You’ve got me intrigued n-’

‘No.’

He blinked at them.

‘Wha- why not? Are you gatekeeping the library books now?’ He almost managed to sound offended. To be honest, Scott wasn’t really into the thick titles his brother was so fond of. But their speed at cutting him off only prodded his interest further.

‘It’s not a library book. It’s mine.’

Xornoth turned another page. Scott raised his eyebrows.

‘Oh my goodness, it really is one of the dark magic books-’

‘You talk as if I’m an evil wizard or something. Can’t I just like things?’ The eldest elf let out a languished sigh, then raised their eyes again. ‘I’m sorry, I’m... I’m tired, okay? Can you just leave me be, for once?’

‘Jesus, Xorny, I was joking!’ Scott raised his hands in a makeshift apology.

Looking around the ancient library and trying to find a way to lighten the mood, he commented, ‘Why don’t you read it at home then? Like, if the book is yours, why come all the way out here to read it?’

‘Because,’ they brought their knees close to their chest and rested the book on them, struggling to feel comfortable again now that their whole vibe was ruined. ‘I wanted a little bit of privacy and silence. But it seems like that was too much to ask!’

Once they found a good enough position,  Xornoth buried their face in the novel once more. They groaned: they lost track of where they were. Again.

‘Silence I can understand, but privacy? To read a book?’

They didn’t answer.

‘Do you cry reading stories, is that what it is? Because that’s alright, honestly. I cry watching plays sometimes.’

No response.

He frowned.

The heir of Rivendell would have been satisfied if the conversation ended there. But the silence didn’t last long. With tentative steps, Scott approached again and, without warning, snatched the book from their hands.

‘HEY!’

The candle almost got knocked down as they jumped from their seat. A wrestling match began between the two brothers, Scott keeping the novel out of reach, Xornoth stretching to take it back. Though the youngest wasn’t as tall or as strong as his sibling, he was definitely more agile; he dodged their attempts at holding him down and scurried away to the far end of the room.

In the short amount of time he managed to buy, the elven prince opened the ever so mysterious tome on a random page. But as his eyes skimmed through the paragraphs and the words got burned into his retinas, he almost regretted his actions. Almost.

‘What in the-’

Catching up to him, Xornoth seized the novel from his grasp. Their face was flushed, — from both anger and embarrassment — and they cradled the book in their arms with great protectiveness.

An awkward silence stretched between the two for a few seconds, only broken when Scott began to snicker.

‘Wooow-’

‘Don’t you dare-’

‘I didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff!’ He teased.

‘I-I’m not!’ They stuttered. Their grip on the book got stronger as they shrunk into themself, trying to hide it. ‘The story’s just- the plot is really interesting, okay?’

‘Oh, I’m sure it is. Very productive of your highness as well! You should let mum borrow it, see if she also likes the story-’

It’s not like Scott enjoyed his brother’s suffering. But as a younger sibling, he had a moral obligation to hold any kind of compromising information close to his chest. It was the loving kind of mockery, of course; he probably would forget about it in a week or two, right? Still, the sound that came out of Xornoth resembled so much that of a kettle on the stove that he feared the eldest would actually combust if he made any further comment.

So, in a display of mercy, he changed the subject for the time being.

‘Oh yeah, speaking of mum, she was looking for you.’

‘What for?’ Xornoth tried to calm themself, but aside from reaching a firmer tone of voice, they could do nothing if not try to hide their face. Maybe if they tried hard enough, they could sink into the ground and disappear.

‘Winter Fest’s starting soon, she was getting kinda worried abou-’

‘What?’ Their firmness disappeared once more. ‘What time is it?’

‘I dunno, the sun was starting to set when I got here.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?!’

Had they gotten too engrossed in the pages? Their little down time was only supposed to last an hour at most, how could time go by so fast? But indeed, as they came to the entrance of the library, they could see that sunset bathed Rivendell’s snowy grounds through the windows.

‘Exor strike me down, fuck-’

Xornoth scrambled to pick up their cape and, without another glance at their brother, — who could count himself lucky for not being in the path of their panic — flew out of the Elven Library like a bullet.

Scott was about to follow suit when he remembered something.

Back to the spot where Xornoth had been reading, he blew out their candle. Better not set fire to the place; they already had enough problems. No, he was sure the only thing they would be setting fire to was that novel as soon as the festival was over.

Curiously, it was the only thing of theirs that never got burnt.

[gardenergulfie]

I am so tempted to just ditch Emptober or at least just write the emptober prompts into this longfic idea because ITS VERY GOOD AND I WANT TO WRITE IT BUT I CANT WRITE BOTH LONGFIC AND EMPTOBER ONESHOTS SO I AM SUFFERING

[queercode-my-minecraft]

Emptober Day 1: Eternity

Rating: G

Word Count: 606

Relationship/s: Scott Smajor/Jimmy Solidarity

Characters: Jimmy Solidarity, Scott Smajor

Tags: Winter Solstice, Dancing, Scott has some underlying issues that should be addressed but he refuses

Notes: I’m a day late and I have a small thing that kind of loses the point of the prompt… to say the least. I don’t know if I’ll follow through with every prompt but I’ll try my best, but, school is still somewhat omnipresent at the moment

Scott had said that Rivendell always seemed to rouse from a year-long sleep every winter solstice.

Jimmy hadn’t believed him, at least not entirely. He had been to Rivendell before, numerous times in fact, both for diplomatic reasons and... adaject diplomatic reasons, and was confident in knowing that the kingdom wasn’t a dead town.

That night though Rivendell seemed to have changed completely.

The entirety of the kingdom was covered in floating lanterns, emanating a soft light where below elves would take part in dances, accompanied by the melodious sound of violins and harps.

It was freezing, Jimmy was well aware of the numerous layers he was wearing, and yet everyone seemed to be wearing summer clothes, airy and light, that drifted in the cold wind. It made him shiver just by looking at the ensemble.

Although, he didn’t know if it was just because of the cold, their faces were relaxed, completely detached by the complex steps they were performing. As if their bodies were the only thing that still remained part of their plane of existence.

He had been invited by a hesitant Scott, just two days before, which hadn’t given much time for Jimmy to even search the meaning behind the festivity. And, now he found himself in one of the centre squares of the kingdom, with soft light illuminating Rivendell’s population as they danced elegantly upon white marble.

He remembered Scott’s face when he had readily accepted the invitation, his eyes had gone wide, before frowning ever so slightly, his wings had twitched and then, unsure of himself, he nodded. Jimmy had smiled, taking his hand and told him he would love to come and yet, Scott still looked as if he didn’t quite believe him.

He just hoped he hadn’t been overstepping some elven boundary or costum he wasn’t aware of.

“Jimmy?”

He turned towards the voice, meeting Scott with a smile. Although, he probably wasn’t going to be able to tell through the Cod Head he was wearing.

The elf had gone all out with his attire that night, wearing all white, with a semi transparent cape that quietly moved in the cold night, and his crown delicately placed in between his golden antlers.

“I didn’t think you would come,” said Scott, and he sounded nervous. Not for the first time since they became allies.

“Of course I would come, you invited me!”

“That I- yeah, I just-“ he shrugs, and suddenly his demeanour changes. He straightens his back, from his face any trace of anxiety gets washed away, replaced by a perfectly calm and vaguely flirtatious smirk and he offers his hand.

“Well, since you’re here, why not have this dance with me?”

Jimmy takes his hand without even a second to think about it, ignoring how he’s a terrible dancer and probably is even worse at looking elegant whilst doing so.

Scott sweeps him off his feet, his eyes become softer as they begin moving slowly into the circle of dancers. He begins forgetting where to put his feet, comply following Scott as if a moth searching for light. And, as they make their way deeper into the dance, music swelling with their every movement, it’s like he gets transported into another world.

It’s just him and Scott, no music, nobody else except for the two of them, twirling around each other and the beat of their hearts.

And, for just a moment, it feels like they could dance together forever. As if they have known each other so well in this life and every other that they don’t need to talk to know they love each other.

[emptober]

Day 25: Colour

Red is for the Blood Sheep and the ever-watching eyes of Xornoth, orange is for Sunset and Pixandria's candles, yellow is for the treasure of Pirate Jo and the golden antlers of Aeor, green is for the wetlands of the Cod Empire and the famous moss of Mezalea, blue is for the waters that make up the Olipeligo and the Ocean Empire and purple is for the dragon's egg and Headmaster Gem's hat!

[c-r-ash-crash]

Jimmy twirled a poppy between his finger idly. It was a beautiful night. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and starlight illuminated the peaks of Rivendell's mountains. His hand curled around Scott's. Scott leaned against him, resting his head on Jimmy's shoulder.

They sat like that for a moment, enjoying each others company. Suddenly, Scott began to hum under his breath. Jimmy's brow furrowed, but before he could say anything, Scott began to sing.

"Over the river, over the sea."

His voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

"I'll find my way back to thee."

Jimmy froze. He knew that song.

"Through the meadow, through the mountain," Scott continued. Jimmy began to hum softly.

"Oh, my good fellow," Scott murmured. "I'll find my way back to thee," Jimmy finished the verse.

Memories flooded through him. He remembered a small valley littered with flowers, walls protecting them from the outside world.

"Oh the sky shall sing, and the sky will sing," Jimmy whispered, tears gathering in his eyes. "I love you, you beautiful thing," Scott hummed, snuggling closer to Jimmy, intertwining their fingers.

"And the ocean, the ocean will say," Jimmy said. He saw the fort of Dogwarts, saw the red roof of the Crastle rising in the distance. He saw the desert Scar and Grian ruled over. "Where ever you're going, I'm going your way." He saw Scott's warm smile.

"And the blooming flowers are ours," Scott murmured. He saw a bright red poppy placed gently into his hands, saw a pufferish of peace hung on their wall. He saw Jimmy running through the valley, laughing as if the world weren't crumbling around them. "Oh, over the river, over the sea."

"I'll find my way back to thee," Jimmy finished.

The both wrapped each other in their arms, held tightly. A silent promise that they wouldn't let this life be ripped from them, a silent promise that they would protect. They wouldn't let this life fall apart, they wouldn't let anyone take them away from each other.

Scott had already lost Jimmy to Ren and Martyn. He wouldn't lose him to Xornoth too. Jimmy had already seen Scott mourning, had already seen him in pain. He swore to himself that he'd never let that happen again. He would never leave Scott's side.

"I'll find my way back to thee."

Emptober Day 14: Song