yurishippingolympics | BONUS ROUND 4

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bonus round

BONUS ROUND 4 - PROMPT FUSION

a venn diagram with the text "prompt fusion - bonus round 4"

"Fusion is just a cheap trick to make weak prompts stronger!" - a quote from Steven Universe, probably

for this bonus round, it's all about combining two ideas. for example "high school AU" + "secret identity" or "soulmate au" + "mafia au"!

to submit a prompt or fill, reply to this post on Dreamwidth!

Fills can be in any format, and you can fill any prompt (even if it's your own or your teammates)!

for your prompt post title, please use the following format:
PROMPT: TEAM [TEAM NAME]
if you are participating as a vote-only member, use this format:
PROMPT: VOTER

for your fill post title, please use the following format:
FILL: TEAM [TEAM NAME]
if you are participating as a vote-only member, use this format:
FILL: VOTER

POINTS - BONUS ROUNDS
For prompts: 10 points each (maximum of 100 prompt points per team per round)
For fills:
First 4 fills by any member of your team: 100 points each
Fills 5-10: 50 points each
Fills 11-20: 40 points each
Fills 21-50: 30 points each
Fills 51+: 25 points each

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Magical girl AU + soulmate AU

ship: adora/catra

words: 555

Adora’s first transformation is an accident, on a sunny afternoon on the roof of her best friend’s house. Catra stands and goes to climb down through her window (to fetch her phone, she says, so they can watch a movie without the threat of her foster mother barging in at any moment) and slips on a loose tile; Adora jumps to catch her before she can fall, and then suddenly both of them are flying.

“What the fuck,” Catra whispers, “What the fuck?”, and as they float up and up and up Adora holds her closer and pays no mind to the searing pain on her collarbone, determined not to let her fall.

It takes a few rounds of trial and error, but she figures some things out.

First: she’s a magical girl, of a kind. She’s She-Ra, and she’s the protector of the city of Etheria, and she’s damn good at her job. Her transformation can be activated at will, but it takes some effort and is more easily triggered when someone close to her is in danger. This is because — as Catra puts it, smile bitter and full of steel — She-Ra and her aren’t the same.

Second: She-Ra is taller than her by three feet — taller and stronger and tougher. She can take hits Adora can’t, can heal herself and others, can fly. She protects people above all else. She is kind and good with kids and loves to take long walks in the sunset. She’s goofy and sporty and she wants to be the hero her world deserves.

And, third: Catra is her soulmate.

Her name is permanently tattooed onto Adora’s collarbone. What else could it be?

Razz is the first person that Adora — that She-Ra saves, and coincidentally also the first person to figure out her secrets. All of her secrets. She-Ra scoops her out of the window of a burning office building, and when she sets her down she adjusts her glasses and peers up at her and says, “Oh, is that you, Adora? Lovely of you to drop by,” and shuffles away.

Adora de-transforms (simpler, especially with no one expecting her to save anyone) and gives chase, half out of blind panic, half out of curiosity. When she stops Razz at the door to her house, she doesn’t even look surprised, and putters around her tiny kitchen preparing a meal for her as though she were dropping by to catch up and not beg her to keep her identity a secret.

“You’re just like my Mara,” she says fondly, over and over again. “Just like her. You’d give anything to save the people you love, wouldn’t you, dearie?”

Adora doesn’t quite know how to respond to that.

“And she’s your soulmate, isn’t she? The first one you saved?”

“Um. Actually, you’re the first one I —”

Razz tuts. “No, no, not me. The girl you saved when you changed for the very first time. Her name is on your skin.”

Adora presses a hand guiltily over her collarbone, feeling Catra’s name marked there like a brand. She hasn’t told anyone else about it yet. Catra would — well, Catra would probably never want to see her again if she knew. “How do you know about that?”

“That’s what this magical girl business is, girl,” Razz says sternly. “It’s all about love.”

Edited 2023-09-02 01:03 (UTC)

Mafia AU + cyberpunk

Space opera AU + superheroes

Time loop + whatever you call the genre Touhou Project is a part of

Coffeeshop AU + Fantasy AU

words: 428

ship: blake belladonna/yang xiao long

“Bounty hunter?” Blake guesses.

The girl sprawled out on the couch blinks up at her, blonde hair thick with drying blood. “How did you know?”

She sets the girl’s order — one coffee, dark as mortally possible — down on the low table between them, pointedly avoiding the scabbard and its suspiciously green stains lying carelessly on the wood. “Well, you’re carrying around an awful lot of weapons, for starters.”

The girl grins. “I’d say it’s a reasonable amount, all things considered, but do go on.”

Blake folds her arms over her chest. Her smile has no right to be as charming as it is. “And you’re covered in blood that isn’t yours.”

“Oh, really? Didn’t even notice.”

“And —” Blake points to the sack hastily pushed under the table, “you’re carrying around a dragon head.”

The girl folds her arms behind her head. “How do you know it’s a dragon? Could be my rations for the evening, Miss…?”

“Belladonna,” Blake says, feigning indifference. “Blake Belladonna.”

“Yang Xiao Long. My non-draconic rations and I offer you our thanks for your hospitality.”

“You’re remarkably singed,” she observes, sidestepping the particularly disarming edge to the brightness in those lilac eyes. Yang is, she guesses, teasing her — pushing her buttons to get her to crack a smile and/or stop with this specific line of questioning, and it doesn’t help that she’s almost magnetically charming —

“I like to live dangerously,” Yang shrugs. “And, hey, if you happen to know anyone who would be in the market for a few dragon scales —”

“I’ll be sure to tell them to steer clear of you,” Blake finishes, biting her lip to keep herself from smiling.

“I have no idea how you managed that.”

Blake shrugs. “A reward for putting up with her patronage, apparently.”

Weiss eyes the dragon head on their counter and takes a measured step back. “And who did you manage to charm into this… donation, exactly?”

“You know the bounty hunter girl?”

“The one who keeps flirting with you in front of our nice normal customers?” She wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, I know the one you mean. What did you do to piss her off? Is this a sign of our impending doom?”

“She said it would pay for all of our repairs,” Blake says, gesturing to the smashed window courtesy of last week’s bar fight. “She knows a guy who’ll take it for 200 crowns.”

Weiss’s jaw drops. Blake thinks of how Yang had winked and offered her a date as she’d dropped the dragon head on the counter and suppresses a smile.

Edited 2023-09-02 23:02 (UTC)

FILL: VOTER

miyukitty - 2023-09-04 10:05 (UTC) - Expand

Idols + crime fiction

Space + vampires

ship: suletta mercury/miorine rembran

words: 661

warnings: blood, allusion to unhealthy eating habits (eri has not been feeding on blood regularly)

There’s blood on her shirt.

Miorine opens her eyes drowsily, somewhat convinced she’s surfacing from some sort of weirdly vivid nightmare, and the girl holding her in the low gravity blinks down at her like she didn’t quite expect her to survive.

“Oh,” Miorine says.

The girl’s eyes — soft and infinitely blue — widen. “Oh,” she agrees. And then, “I’m so sorry.”

She raises her head slowly, feeling rather like she’s just been hit by a bus. “Sorry about what?”

Probably not the first question she should be asking, seeing as there’s still droplets of blood floating in the artificially warm air around them.

The girl’s face contorts. She turns away from Miorine, suddenly looking inexplicably guilty. “My sister. She, um. She d-didn’t know she needed to feed so badly. She sort of, uh, ran off, but she says she’s sorry too. She didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Feed. It doesn’t send horror thrilling down her spine like it should. Maybe it’s the after-effects of the awful day she’s had, maybe it’s the exhaustion and the nightmares and the blood loss and the weirdly comforting guilty smile of the girl holding her still in the middle of her father’s space station, but she can’t really bring herself to care all that much.

“Feed,” Miorine echoes. “Feed?”

Her eyes really are distractingly gentle. “O-oh! That was rude of me, I’m sorry. I should have — well."

The girl glances between them, then down the corridor, scanning for something. Miorine settles her head against her shoulder and watches her, piecing together the last few hours in her mind.

(She had been coming from the last meeting with her father — the last one of the day, she’s sure of it — and something had tackled her away from the propulsion vehicle and pushed her to the metal ground. She’s sure she must have blacked out after that.)

“I think,” the girl says carefully, “we’re not being followed. Or listened to.”

“Security cameras,” Miorine manages. She shakes her head.

“Eri is very thorough. All the cameras will be down.” She smiles, almost to herself. “She’s good with computers.”

Suletta Mercury, it turns out, is a vampire.

Miorine thinks she takes the news rather well.

“... So your sister ruined my shirt?”

Suletta scrunches up her face. It shouldn’t be endearing. “And nearly drained all the blood from your body, Ms Miorine. I think that’s —”

Miorine huffs. “Yes, but she also got blood all over my shirt.”

“And I don’t know how I’ll ever make it up to you —”

“You’re not responsible for her actions,” she says snippily. “She’s a decades-old vampire and you’re — what, 16?”

“17,” Suletta corrects slowly, realisation dawning in those soft blue eyes. “I-it really would be easier if you just —”

“I can get her — and you — a regular supply of animal blood if you promise you’ll stick around.”

“Wh — wait, what?”

Their arrangement is this: Eri, who has never regularly fed on blood in her life, sneaks once a week into the station’s kitchens. Miorine bribes the cook into leaving the doors open, even though Suletta assures her that Eri could break in easily. And, in return, Suletta promises her that she’ll figure out a way for Miorine to vanish out of her father’s reach, even if it takes all of her immortal life to do it.

“I want you to rely on me,” she says one night, holding the door open for Miorine with one hand and a blood bag in the other. Her voice has that wonderful determined quality to it. “I want you to know that you can rely on me, Ms Miorine. It’s the least we can do.”

Eri steps up behind them, pushing Miorine gently forward and breaking her from whatever spell Suletta’s voice had her under. “Just say the word,” she says cheerfully. “And — hey — invite me to the wedding?”

Suletta elbows her sharply and she spins backward, laughing as the momentum sends her rotating back into the kitchen.

Edited 2023-09-03 07:00 (UTC)

modern au + ghost hunting au

this prompt is being posted on the behalf of riot in bloom!

words: 876

ship: suletta mercury/miorine rembran

extra notes: couldnt get everything i wanted out of this one bc i ran out of time

“We’re not very well-equipped,” Nuno observes dryly, flicking on the torch on his phone. The dim light, hardly enough to illuminate the first few feet of the hallway, throws his face into sharp relief, and Suletta jumps a little.

“It’s a good thing there’s no such thing as ghosts, isn’t it?” Chuchu snaps. “Or we’d all be screwed.”

She kicks at a broken floorboard, jutting out through a tear in the carpet, and flinches when it cracks and splinters under the sole of her boot.

“Pretty sure destroying the house is the number one way to make the ghosts mad at us,” Nika says serenely. She pulls her own torch out of her pocket and steps past them into the corridor beyond, shoulders squared, and with a sigh Chuchu follows behind her.

They wind up filing through the hallway and into the living room in a neat line — Nika, then Chuchu, then Nuno and Ojelo, Till and Aliya and Lilique and Martin and finally Suletta, clutching her own shitty torch to her chest and trying to steady her breathing.

She’s not afraid of ghosts. She’s afraid of her mother’s ghost.

This is why, when she rams straight into Martin’s back and finds him staring in shock at the pale girl curled up on the dilapidated couch in the centre of the room — transparent book in her lap and all — the noise that comes out of her is something close to a relieved laugh.

The girl doesn’t even look up. The other Earth House kids are rapidly making themselves scarce (or, well, Chuchu is starting to shove them all out of the room, hissing something about proof enough), and Suletta is too delighted at the prospect of not having to confront another fragment of her past in another creepy old building to really notice her tugging urgently at her sleeve and then promptly giving up.

“Cowards,” the girl says idly, turning a page of her book. Suletta has heard the voices of ghosts before — is probably the only Earth House kid who has — and still the amusement in her tone surprises her, keeps her rooted in place. The girl isn’t speaking to her, she’s sure of it, and yet —

“Sorry for bothering you, i-it’s just — well, we heard rumours of a ghost haunting this house and my f-friends think it might have been my family.”

“Your family,” she muses. Not a question. “I don’t recognise you, Suletta Mercury.”

“How do you know my name?”

The girl lifts a hand, still without looking up at her, and points to the name badge on the lapel of her jacket.

“Oh,” Suletta manages. They’d all come straight from work up to the house at the end of the drive — she hadn’t even thought to change her clothes. “Well, what’s yours?”

That prompts her to look up, and — oh. “Miorine Rembran,” she says evenly, “the last daughter of the Rembran line. You — I don’t know of any Mercury ghosts.”

“H-how about any Samayas?”

Miorine frowns. “You don’t sound like you want an answer. Where are your friends?”

Probably standing in the doorway and peering at her. Suletta doesn’t turn around to check. “I’m sure they’ll wait for me.”

She hums. “Why are they dragging you along to look for a family you don’t want to find?”

It probably shouldn’t make Suletta smile, but it does. Her friends have always been kind. “‘Cause we want to know if they’re gone for good.”

Miorine closes the book slowly, contemplatively. If Suletta didn’t know any better — couldn’t see the fabric of the couch through her shoulder — she would think she was alive, vibrant. There’s warmth in the small smile that turns up the corners of her mouth and warmth in her eyes and in her voice when she says, “Do you know anything of ghosts, Suletta Mercury?”

“I-I like to think I do,” Suletta says. It comes out a little weak, a little unsure. Maybe Miorine just has that effect on people. “I see them more often than most people.”

Her eyebrows lift. “How interesting. People with the Sight don’t come by my house often.”

You must be lonely, Suletta thinks, but she’s smart enough to know not to say that thought out loud. Past experience has proven to her that there’s nothing worse than getting on the wrong side of a ghost.

“Oh,” she settles on, “really?”

Miorine lifts one translucent shoulder. “It’s not so bad. You already know that, though.”

She gestures, then, for Suletta to sit down beside her. It’s a little foolish of her, but she goes without hesitation. She doesn’t exactly understand why, really, but she thinks she’d do anything just to get that small smile to stretch wider.

They talk for the rest of the night.

The rest of the Earth House kids don’t leave the house, either, which is kind of them. When she steps outside the room in the early morning daylight they bombard her with questions about the ghost girl and what she’d learned about her mother and her sister, and when the only answer she can offer them is a guilty smile and an invitation from Miorine to come back and visit, the groans she gets in response are more fond than anything else.

idol au + secret identity

this prompt is being posted on the behalf of riot in bloom!

traveling the world + hacking

this prompt is being posted on the behalf of riot in bloom!

words: 1001

ship: carmen sandiego/julia argent

extra notes: rauauagh,, i miss these guys sm

This week, they’re in rural Scotland. Julia perches on the armchair beside Carmen and peers over her shoulder at the papers in her lap, hair adorably unkempt.

“And you think this thief is headed where, exactly?”

There’s an unusual edge to her voice. Carmen can’t blame her for it. They’ve been on the move for months now, trying to track down an unnamed thief by themselves. No help, no contact with the others, just them and their slowly dwindling funds, and it’s eating away at them both.

She leafs through the papers instead of dwelling on it and pulls out a map of the sleepy town they’re staying in. “The old war museum.”

“... Why? It doesn’t fit with their pattern,” Jules protests. “By all accounts, they should be targeting the big cities. Why come all the way out here?”

Carmen shrugs. “Just a hunch.”

She makes a face. “Did your hacker friend —”

“No! No. Player doesn’t — I haven’t spoken to him in months. Since we got into this mess.”

Julia’s head tilts to one side. She’s remarkably observant, Carmen notes. “Well, I really hope you’re right. I hope this can all be done with soon.”

Four months, two weeks, and five days.

That’s how long it takes.

They don’t catch the thief that night at the old war museum, but they do steal his phone, and from there, it’s simple. Julia Argent, the most brilliant girl Carmen has ever had the pleasure of roping into her dumb amateur sleuthing, hacks in within minutes, and they’re on his trail instantly.

This is where the real chase begins.

The thief — Lucy Adams, 32 — makes it all the way back down into England and hitches a plane ride from Stansted Airport into France. Kind of predictable, actually; Carmen kind of wishes she’d gone for something more daring. A boat chase, maybe.

In a stroke of genius on Jules’s part, they corner her at the Eiffel Tower. It’s all rather grand and dramatic, which is what Carmen had been hoping for. She’d never expected anything like this when she’d gotten into this mystery shit, but it’s a little vindicating, honestly. It feels like she’s part of something bigger than herself, something more than picking up little petty crimes in her hometown.

“You were right,” Julia remarks that night, sprawled out on the shitty hotel bed. Her hair is ruffled again, her clothes woefully unironed — nothing like the neat and tidy student she’d been before Carmen had dragged her twice around the world, nothing like the hacker skilled enough to rival Player she’d first met on an online forum three years ago. Carmen thinks she couldn’t possibly love her any more than she does now.

“What did I say?” she grins. “My hunches are always correct.”

“Spooky,” Jules says. And then — “Carmen, this doesn’t mean we won’t — work together anymore, does it?”

Far too casually, far too openly, she stands up from the window seat and tilts her head to the side to face her, quiet and honest. “As if I could ever get tired of working with you, supergenius. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t see you every day.”

“I’m not that smart,” Julia huffs. Is Carmen imagining things, or is she blushing?

Actually, they go their separate ways.

Or, more accurately, Carmen goes back to her friends and apologises for abandoning them in the middle of the night on a wild goose chase, promising to find Julia at their old meeting spot in the afternoon, and sits in her usual seat in her favourite cafe and waits for the better part of three hours.

No message. No call. Nothing.

She’s fine, the barista informs her — fine and intending to pick back up on her schoolwork like nothing happened. She’s still poking around on that old forum and solving people’s random computer issues for them, but she doesn’t answer any of Carmen’s attempts to reach out, and it breaks her a little, if she’s honest.

Carmen does her best not to mope about it, and fails miserably. Zack and Ivy keep her busy by sending her newspaper clippings and old articles, and she keeps turning to her side to ask Julia her thoughts and finding no one there. Suddenly the whole world is a shade dimmer; suddenly the sun doesn’t feel half as bright on her skin. She misses Julia — Jules — like she misses her own right hand.

And, desperately in need of something to do with that new raw ache in her chest, she takes up travelling again.

It’s not like she has much money to do it with in the first place, but she figures she’ll survive a road trip across America. Zack and Ivy offer to come along too — then, when it becomes clear this is a Carmen Thing, they settle for just sending her what money they can so she doesn’t run out of gas halfway to the middle of nowhere and die.

So she takes off.

And everything is fine.

Month three post-Julia Argent. Carmen is still, rather pathetically, checking up that old forum. She’s sure Julia’s forgotten all about her by now, but it can’t hurt to look.

This is, in fact, exactly what she’s doing when her computer screen goes white.

She nearly leaps out of the back of her truck. The only thing that stops her from hurling the laptop into the road out of shock is raw instinct and the three words etching themselves onto her screen — Hello Carmen! - Julia.

There’s barely any signal out here, but she digs her phone out of her pocket and tries to call her anyway. Jules picks up immediately, and her voice is crackly and weak from sleep and laughter but Carmen doesn’t particularly care.

“You hacked my computer, Jules.”

Julia laughs. “Good morning to you too.”

“I assume I’ll get an explanation for the vanishing act?”

“You assume correctly,” she says, softer. Carmen hopes, rather foolishly, that she knows she could never really hold a grudge.

hanahaki au + possession

this prompt is being posted on the behalf of riot in bloom!

words: 431

ship: penny polendina/ruby rose

warnings: emetophobia

Rose petals, Ruby thinks, staring at the red smudged against the bathroom floor. How poetic.

She’d barely made it into the bathroom before the attack this time, coughing up petals all over the tiles instead of into the toilet like she’d been aiming for. It’s not the end of the world, but cleaning it all up will be a nightmare. If they survive the next few hours, Weiss might kill her.

She’s only been gazing aimlessly at the floor for a few minutes when there’s a soft knock on the door behind her. Ruby whirls around, hand halfway to Crescent Rose, and relaxes instantly when she hears Penny’s voice instead of — well.

“Ruby? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she lies, “just felt a bit sick. I’m okay now. No casualties.”

Penny laughs softly. She’d set her hand on Ruby’s shoulder earlier — just touched her, and that had been enough to set her off again. “Are you sure? I can do a scan if you’re worried about any illnesses.”

Ruby pictures her finding red rose petals blooming in her lungs and all the questions that would follow, and allows herself a small smile. “That’s okay, Penny. I’ll be alright.”

She thinks she’s a pretty good liar, all things considered.

The Schnee Manor is eerily silent now. Ruby pads silently through vast, yawning hallways and into empty room after empty room, peering at the wreckage of an empire. She leaves a trail of red petals on the carpet.

She can’t have been alone for more than fifteen minutes when she hears voices, and swerves into a huge dining room — not the one they’ve been camped out in — to avoid them. There are huge paintings on the walls, and she stares pointedly at them instead of letting herself tune into the conversation passing by. She’s never really liked to eavesdrop on her friends.

Except — this isn’t a conversation. This is one person, talking rapidly to herself, muttering assurances over and over again, desperate, afraid —

“You’re not here. I am okay. I am stronger than you. I will not hurt my friends. I will not hurt my friends. I am stronger than you. I will not —”

Penny lets out a small hiss of exertion, and Ruby can picture her now, pressing the heels of her hands into her forehead and breathing in and out, useless as it is. Her fingers close around a petal in her pocket, one of the few survivors from her last attack in the corridor.

She wishes she could help.

She doesn’t know what will happen to her if she does.

FILL: TEAM FRANMAYA

ghostvines - 2023-09-07 07:00 (UTC) - Expand

seven minutes in heaven + having a fever

this prompt is being posted on the behalf of riot in bloom!

Ship: Edelgard/Byleth (Fire Emblem Three Houses)
Words: 667
Summary: You probably shouldn't kiss someone while your sick, right?

Edelgard all but fell into her chair for her early morning class. Her head felt like it had been left out in the sun for too long as she pinched the bridge of her nose in an attempt to settle it.

She knew she shouldn't have gone out last night.

She had been sneezing and taking cough medicine all weekend when Dorothea had called. Her friend pleaded with her to accompany her to a party, talking about how it had been so long since they'd last hung out together and how they never see one another because of their different schedules and how much she needed a wingman.

Reluctantly, Edelgard had agreed.

She had originally thought she'd spend the entirety of the party still sipping cough syrup and sitting on the couch until Sylvain had walked by and put her name into a hat.

Edelgard groaned at the memory. Her headache suddenly felt worse as she remembered how he had called her name loudly to play seven minutes in heaven with everyone.

She could still see the dark closet, lit only by a single candle.

Piercing blue eyes looked back at her, curious and all too charming.

"I usually only see you in class," Byleth had said, a pleased smile on her face.

"And I usually only see you late at night in the dining hall," Edelgard said back.

The silence had felt heavy as the two of them sat. Seven minutes had never felt so long. Of course, it was just her luck to be shoved into a clostet with the TA she had been crushing on all semester while she was sick.

"So…" Byleth's voice trailed off. Edelgard suppressed the urge to sneeze. "What do people normally do at these parties?"

"You don't get out much?"

"Not really."

"That's surprising."

"Why is that?" Byleth asked, her head tilting to the side in the most endearing way.

God, where to begin? Because Byleth was easily the most breathtaking person she had ever seen in the life. Because Edelgard was certain that sunrise and sunset had nothing on the warmth of this woman's gaze. If she ever met her parents, she would be sure to shake their hands and thank them profusely.

Her cheeks felt hot as she thought that, whether from embarrassment or the fever was anybody's guess.

"Well, because you are surely very popular," Edelgard had told her instead. "You're smart and funny and people like being around you."

"Thank you for saying that." Byleth's eyes seemed to dance even in the low light. "Unfortunately, I still don't get asked out all that much."

"That's other people's loss then. I'd love to be stuck in a closet with you more often."

She laughed and it was better than any song Edelgard had ever heard.

"Still, what are we supposed to be doing in here for seven minutes?" Byleth asked innocently.

"Sinful things is what Sylvain is hoping for."

"You're funny," Byleth said between smiles. Her hand brushed against Edelgard's. When had she gotten so close?

She leaned in and Edelgard forced herself to move back.

"I don't think you want to kiss me right now," Edelgard confessed and heard the congestion in her voice. She cringed as her mind wandered to the waste bin by her bed currently full of Kleenex. "I'm a bit sick."

"I don't mind."

And Byleth had kissed her carefully as if afraid she would fly away. Truthfully, Edelgard almost did. But she'd much rather kiss her than be anywhere else.

Her cheeks burned at the contact as she kissed her back. Everything felt too warm and too hot. She felt feverish as her heart raced.

True to her word, Byleth didn't seem to mind that she was sick.

That is, until she walked into class the next day with a fever of her own and a bottle of Nyquil in her hand. She shot Edelgard a knowing grin as she took her seat and waited for the lecture to begin.

Fantasy AU + post-apocalypse

Pairing: OC/OC/OC
Words: 385

This was the story of how we got a dragon.

The day started out like any other day. We woke up, kissed each other, then we went out to meet Maggie, who had been on night duty the other night. Lucy and I took turns kissing her, which was both the perfect greeting, as well as signalled a change in shifts. I would take up the gun, patrol the area for any zombies. Lucy would cook breakfast. It was to be the start of a fine enough day.

And I was looking forward to breakfast that day, because we had managed to barter some of our mandrakes for real bacon. Actual bacon! Not just spam or luncheon meat! I had missed the taste of real, smoked bacon. And because Lucy was Lucy, I knew that it would be delicious. She cooked great things with dull canned rations; with actual food she may actually produce ambrosia.

But then Maggie said that she had something she wanted to show us, and when she brought us to see what was there, I knew that we were going to have a lot less to go around.

She showed us this little dragon. Small, misshapen wings. Couldn’t be older than a few months. Might have been abandoned by its nest for being a runt. It was such a poor thing.

We just had to take it in.

They wanted to name it Will, after me, Willow. Which was well, it was kind of an honour. And as I saw little Will eat up our bacon, our only meat left in the house, I knew that I had to train this little one to at least be a decent guard animal. We weren’t going to throw him out, that’s for sure. But if he couldn’t work, well, we really couldn’t afford to just keep an animal around as a pet like that . He needed to be useful to us in some way.

But I’m not going to let Maggie or Lucy down like that, the softies. I’d kept dragons before, when I was younger, and the world was in a better state. It takes a firm hand, and a lot of patience, but I’ll be sure to whip our little Will into a guard dragon that we can be proud of.

Edited 2023-09-07 04:30 (UTC)

fake dating + soulmate AU

Words: 1060 (this really got away from me)
Fandom: She-Ra and the Princess of Power (2018)
Ship: Adora/Catra

Catra finishes putting the finishing touches on the soulmark, peeling the prep paper off carefully so it doesn't smudge. Hopefully the girl from Craigslist was able to figure out how to apply it from her instructions - she tried to make them as idiot proof as possible, but she's painfully aware of how creatively people can fuck things up. Her normal fare is simpler than this, but there's always someone who manages to fuck it up.

Making coverups for soulmarks isn't as lucrative as other jobs, and she's glad of that, really. Most of her clients are covering soulbonds that went south for one reason or another - death, abuse, irreconcilable differences that their biology didn't account for. The only clients that don't have a painful story are the escorts. They say a soulmark chills business, but Catra knows how to make it disappear, at least for a week or so.

A lot of her clients assume she's covering a soulmark, and she doesn't correct them.

Anyway. It pays enough to cover rent and canned soup, but when someone reached out to ask if she could fake a soulmark instead of covering it, she was interested enough to bite. So now she was applying her fraudulent soulmark, a rich golden splash, and hoping she can fix anything the client messed up. Grayskull didn't have time beforehand for Catra to do it, and she hasn't frantically texted yet, so she has to assume everything's fine.

She just has to put on the suit she had to buy for Scorpia's wedding and get through a few hours of some holiday party or something. Piece of cake, and it'll pay her rent through the winter. Maybe the escorts are onto something.

She's not giving someone from the internet her address, so she's loitering in front of the library when the car stops. It's older than she would have expected, streaks of dirt speckling along the back, almost obscuring the bumper stickers. If she hadn't gotten half of the fee as an advance, Catra wouldn't have believed this is Grayskull's car, but when the window rolls down she can see the golden soulmark at the base of the neck, just above the collarbone. It looks real - if Catra wasn't looking for it, she wouldn't see the slight texture that betrays its nature.

"Are you Catra?" Grayskull asks, stress in her voice, and - yeah. She's hired a stranger to pretend to be her girlfriend. Catra would be anxious too if she had anything other than money on the line.

"The very same." Catra drops into the passenger seat, and at least the car is cleaner inside than outside. Grayskull is - hot, with lean muscle unmistakeable where her dress reveals her shoulders, skin so flawless it seems to glow. Catra's makeup is perfect, but she has to stop herself from checking it.

"Thanks for doing this," Grayskull says. "They just will not get off my back. The mark was super easy to put on and it looks so good, next time I can probably do this without you."

Catra ignores the flare of disappointment. She doesn't even know this person, she can think with her libido later when this is over and she's home. "So, Grayskull, how'd we meet?"

"First of all," Grayskull says, "if we're dating I assume you call me Adora? That's my name. No one calls me anything else."

"I was just going to call you increasingly sappy pet names all night. Will that work for you, princess?"

Adora's face darkens. Catra's going to make enough money to replace her crap desk chair and have fun. "Sure, uh, kitten."

Hot and awkward. Oh no. "Okay, so you're not convincing at all. Stick to your strengths, which I assume you have."

"Escrima," Adora says, "which, to answer your question, is how we met." She must sense her confusion even with her eyes on the road, because she says, "It's a martial art, I train with a sword. You're not going to have to talk about it, no one will let me talk about it and I want to."

"Never heard of it," Catra says, and Adora launches into a clearly long-stored explanation, and when Catra unfocuses her eyes she can see it, sweat on her brow, hands tight on the hilt of a blade. She's never seen a kalimpan, and she doesn't recognize a number of the words Adora's using to describe it, but she wants to see one, now. Maybe she can get Adora to show someone a picture before the evening is over.

They're parked too soon. When Adora's done smoothing her dress, Catra holds out her hand. Adora eyes it, and Catra says, "I mean, we ought to sell it, right?"

Adora takes her hand, and the skin over her collarbone buzzes with a sensation she's never felt, and goddamn it, it's on the opposite side from the fake one. Catra can barely focus on the fact that this cute weirdo has been assigned to her by fate or whatever because she's way too annoyed that she's wasted all that time designing the fakes, that of course are on the same side.

Adora gasps next to her. "This isn't hap-"

"Yeah, sugar, apparently it's happening." Even the sound of Adora wincing at the name doesn't help. "I have my kit in the car, hopefully my shit will only take long enough to get off for us to be fashionably late."

"Wait." Adora faces her, reaches for her other hand. "We're soulmates. You - I don't want to go to the party anymore. I just want to get to know you."

The majority of the soulbonds Catra sees have ended badly. Catra's not naive enough to believe that a soulbond means anything more than an ugly tattoo two people share. But Scorpia looks at Perfuma like she hung the moon, and Catra's never seen her happier. When she sees the mark on Adora, blue and yellow swirl with a jagged edge that she can't make sense of - she's never felt possessive like this before. What does she have to lose, really?

"If you really want to waste my acting talents, snookums, I guess it's your loss."

Adora smiles and it feels like she's looking at the sun and Catra will have to keep her busted desk chair for a little longer, it looks like.

FILL: TEAM CATRADORA

hopelessgemini - 2023-09-07 04:54 (UTC) - Expand

Modern high school AU… with ghosts!

words: 294 ship: suletta mercury/miorine rembran (sorry the formatting is wrecked -- better more readable version here! https://docs.google.com/document/d/1_VMlmP6vUxlejp0o_TpgVI44_vBTo5q3s5IzBV6ptk0/edit?usp=sharing)

miorine <3: suletta

why is there a ghost girl in your seat

suletta mercury!: YOU CAN SEE HER??

miorine <3: uhh

why wouldn’t i be able to

she looks exactly like you just

smaller?

suletta mercury!: Oh jeez

Im so sorry i told her not to follow me

miorine <3: ????

suletta mercury!: Can anyone else see her?

miorine <3: uhhh i doubt it why?

suletta mercury!: I am SO sorry about this Please extend my apologies to the teacher :< And the rest of the class

miorine <3: what?? why?? suletta SULETTA???? what oh my g-d

suletta mercury!: Im sorry!!! It was the only way i could get her to leave you alone Ummm Hold on one sec Can you come to the toilets on the first floor?

miorine <3: i mean i can try i hate physics g-d

miorine <3: oh hey ghost girl’s back she’s just staring at me

suletta mercury!: AGH Ill can be there in five

miorine <3: dw about it go back to your whatever it is you were doing she isnt bothering me she just really looks like you

suletta mercury!: Yeah she really does haha Umm if you’re sure she’s not bothering you Let me know if she starts messing stuff up Shes not supposed to be outside Youre taking this all really well!! A lot better than i thought you would 😭

miorine <3: weird shit always happens to me this is like the most normal part of my week so far

suletta mercury!: Ghost girls are normal for you?? Okay my free period has ended uhhh We can talk more over lunch?? If you want!! I will get eri to leave you alone haha i promise

miorine <3: greenhouse?

suletta mercury!: Greenhouse!! <3

miorine <3: <3

Edited 2023-09-06 04:17 (UTC)

Dinosaurs and cowboys

Letter format + superheroes

robot/human romance + soulmate AU

words: 659

ship: penny polendina/ruby rose

extra notes: penny the robotgirl ever

Ruby chalks the sudden burning sensation in her chest up to shock. Penny is alive, after all, alive and in Mantle all this time, and she thinks she could cry with the relief of it. It feels, in this moment, like the entire world has shifted under her feet — like the sun and stars and the broken moon are orbiting around them, and only them, and if she could have her way nothing would ever tear her out of Penny’s arms again.

Much later, she determines it must be a bruise. Penny had slammed into her at an absurd speed, after all, and she’s pretty sure if she hadn’t been aiming for a hug she might have broken a rib or two. Besides, Penny is made almost entirely of metal. It’s only logical that she’d have left some kind of physical impact.

She sits on her bunk in the Atlas dormitory and kicks her legs idly as she waits for Weiss to finish her turn with the shower, trying desperately to ignore the burning feeling. It doesn’t hurt, exactly, but still.

“What’s got you so distracted?” Yang hums.

Ruby turns her head to glance over at her and discovers her sister’s head in Blake’s lap — because of course — and her eyes glazed over with exhaustion, fingers grazing over Blake’s hip and Blake’s forearm like if she lets go of her for even a second they’ll both die instantly. In a particularly sisterly move, she chooses to ignore the obvious comeback.

“Just a bruise,” she shrugs, “don’t worry about it.”

Yang snorts. “A bruise from what? Having a robot girl slam into you at full speed?”

Ruby is, regretfully, too far away to aim a kick at her shoulder. “She was excited to see me.”

Yang pauses, and when she replies, her voice is suddenly careful. “Excited is definitely a word I would use, yeah.”

Whatever response Ruby could have come up with to that is cut off when Weiss slams open the door to the dormitory bathroom and announces that she’s ready for bed. Ruby takes the easy way out of the conversation and bolts through the door behind her before she can so much as finish her sentence.

“Penny is your soulmate?”

“Shut up,” Ruby hisses. “No one outside this room can know.”

Jaune makes a face. “Not even Penny? You know, your —”

She slaps a hand over his mouth before he can continue. Her other hand comes up to tug the hood of her cloak lower — not that she needs to; her outfit covers her collarbones just fine — making sure the name scrawled in fine green letters across her skin is hidden adequately. “Especially not her.”

“But don’t you think she might want to know?” Blake hums. Not a direct question, not really. She has a habit of asking questions like these as though they’re passing thoughts.

“Well, yeah, but —” Ruby flushes, letting go of Jaune’s face when his noises of protest start to get louder. “I don’t want to overwhelm her! And I don’t want to push her away! I just — I just got her back, guys.”

Yang huffs a laugh. “Ruby, she adores you.”

“Okay, but —”

“She adores you,” Ren echoes. “If anything, she’ll short-circuit with joy. And who’s to say she doesn’t know already?”

“I kind of wish you hadn’t said that,” Ruby mutters, clamping down on the sudden sick breathlessness rising up from her gut. He smiles apologetically.

Penny does, in fact, know already, as it turns out. Not that they’re able to get anything out of either of them about it.

“We’re waiting to see where this huntsman thing takes us,” Ruby says unconvincingly, three weeks after their first ‘talk’ about it. “You know, beating Salem, saving the world, that kind of stuff.”

“Uh-huh,” Yang nods, “and that’s why you take so many patrols alone together?”

She smirks when Ruby’s hand comes up unconsciously to hover over her collarbone. “You know it.”

faking dating + royalty au

college/university au + fantasy

pirate au + vampire au

royalty au + soulmate au

mermaids + outer space

coffee shop + petty rivals to lovers

Ship: Regina/Janis (Mean Girls)
Words: 396
Summary: "You're the worst customer ever so I get back at you by writing your name in increasingly wrong ways" coffee shop au

"What is this?!"

Janis could only smile down at the cappuccino machine she was cleaning. She knew that prissy, entitled voice. Quickly, she put on her best customer service voice as she turned to face her.

A blonde woman in high heels and all too much pink was glaring at her from the moment she turned around. Her hands were on her hips as she tapped her foot incessantly against the tile below. She would have been pretty if not for the fact that she was Janis's most detested customer.

Janis saw her each morning. She wore the most expensive looking clothes with a matching designer handbag. And each morning, she strutted through the doors like she owned the entire coffee shop and everyone in it, talking obnoxiously loud on her cellphone.

It was like Regina had someone new to fire each morning.

"How can I help you today?" Janis asked.

"Don't act dumb. What is this?”

The woman slammed her cup onto the counter. Janis looked at it blankly.

“Well, it looks like the coffee you ordered,” she said flatly.

“No.” The woman spun the cup around so she could see the writing on it. “What is this?”

Janis almost snorted as she read the name Reginald. She had been putting the wrong name on Regina’s orders for weeks now, spelling her name in increasingly wrong ways. Each time, she made sure she had put something different. It was fun and it felt like petty revenge against her least favorite customer.

She wasn’t even proud of this one but the fact that it seemed to bother this woman so much almost made her feel like it was her best work yet.

“Is that not your name?” Janis asked innocently.

Regina growled under her breath. Once again, it would have been hot if not for the fact that this was Regina.

“No, that is not my name,” she said sharply. “It’s Regina. Regina George.”

“Sorry, I must have misheard you.”

“Yeah, sure you did.” Regina scowled and rolled her eyes at her. “Honestly, I would have rather you had written ‘bitch’ instead.”

“I’ll try to remember that for next time.”

“You’d better. You make the best coffee in town and you’re lucky you're cute. Otherwise I wouldn’t come back here.”

Oh, Janis would definitely have to remember that as well.

college au + witches/magic au

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