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yurishippingolympics
for this bonus round, the theme is historical fiction! prompts inspired by specific moments in (real or fictional) history.
this round will end on july 15th
Fills can be in any format, and you can fill your teammates prompts, but you cannot fill your own prompt.
You can post as many fills and as many prompts as you want!
for your prompt post title, please use the following format:
PROMPT: TEAM [TEAM NAME]
for your fill post title, please use the following format:
FILL: TEAM [TEAM NAME]
POINTS - BONUS ROUNDS
For prompts: 10 points each (maximum of 150 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
PROMPT: TEAM CATRADORA
Date: 2024-07-10 01:31 am (UTC)PROMPT: TEAM CATRADORA
Date: 2024-07-10 01:31 am (UTC)FILL: TEAM ACE ATTORNEY
Date: 2024-07-14 11:24 am (UTC)Haori always looked exhausted in their Zoom classes.
It wasn’t Susato’s fault that she was paying such close attention. If they were back in school she would be taking notes at faster than light speed, locked wholly into the lesson, so focused everyone else’s faces faded into a blur — but Susato was quickly discovering that such was not to be when they were online. The professor had opened class with an apology for being twenty minutes late, his toddler kept interrupting every few minutes, and only five people were even in the call in the first place. She was almost considering turning her camera off so she could read Herlock Sholmes instead. Almost.
Instead she glanced at Haori. Her best friend was a slightly-pixellated face in a small square in a stack of similar squares on her screen, but nevertheless Susato would know her anywhere.
Haori looked wan. She had pressed her knuckles to her mouth for the third time in the past five minutes to suppress a yawn, and the bags beneath her eyes looked darker than ever. Even her white ribbon was drooping.
Susato felt her heart twist. She glanced back at the professor. He was petting his (quite adorable, to be fair) calico cat.
Surely one text couldn’t count as being distracted…
She switched tabs and typed, Are you alright?, then switched right back.
Haori visibly startled, then looked down, her eyebrows creased in the way they did when she was writing.
Susato’s tab pinged.
H: yeah im fine :0!!
H: didnt sleep well thats all
Susato almost frowned to herself before remembering she was still on camera.
S: I was worried you might be sick
H: oh god i HOPE not
H: dont worry i test every single day after getting back from the lab
S: Oh! That’s a relief
S: Father makes you do that too, does he?
H: yea its basic procedure but it stays annoying
H: ah yes just what the doctor ordered after a long hard morning at the mines (laboratory)
H: stabbing my nose with miniature sword
H: i love my job
Susato snorted out loud. Then she covered her mouth guiltily.
S: You aren’t allowed to be funny while I have my camera on
H: you think im funny!!!!!!!!
S: But really are you okay?
S: If you work yourself to death I WILL throw you
H: youd never
H: also im still not over the fact that im apparently funny now
H: but yea really im fine!!! vaccine dev is worth it anyway
H: if there was ever a worthy cause to die for that would be it
God, Susato thought, Haori is so cool.
But still:
S: I would rather you not die under any circumstances!!!
S: Nothing is worth dying for. Nothing could replace you
Haori was silent for so long, then, that Susato switched back to her actual lesson to check if Haori had lost internet. It happened sometimes, where she lived…
No, there was her square, just as pixellated as always and no more.
…Her best friend, as it happened, was beet red.
Susato felt her heart twist again, this time for entirely different reasons.
H: oh my god you cant just SAY things like that
S: Like what?
H: im convinced youre doing this on purpose
H: aughthhghhfhrh
H: thank you su i promise i will not die
S: Yippee ^_^
S: Then I will cheer you on as you and Father save the world!
H: what would i do without you
H: ANYWAY THAT REMINDS ME do you want to hear our Progress Report!!
(No, the question was: what would Susato do without Haori?)
S: Always
Haori Murasame is typing…
-—-
in this AU haori and yuujin beat pfizer-biontech to the vaccine by like 3 days
Re: FILL: TEAM ACE ATTORNEY
Date: 2024-07-14 12:06 pm (UTC)FILL: Team Anime/Manga
Date: 2024-07-15 10:30 pm (UTC)word count: 1264
pairing: winter schnee/cinder fall with room for winter/cinder/robyn if you squint really hard
fandom: RWBY
//
“I can’t believe I’m stuck here with you,” Cinder mutters.
Not that she looks particularly upset about it. Winter eyes her as she drapes herself across the couch, wine glass in hand, and resumes dusting all their shelves for something like the fifteenth time today. Trying not to sound too annoyed, she says, “Well, you could always quarantine yourself in your room,” and pointedly ignores the glare Cinder throws her way.
“Like I give a shit.” She sets the glass down on the coffee table; Winter winces at her bookshelves and tries to forget what it felt like to be sixteen. “Did Robyn really have to leave?”
“She wanted to be home,” Winter says blandly. As annoyed as she is that Robyn left her alone with the roommate she doesn’t like, she supposes some things can’t be helped — she has a job, after all, unlike the rest of them, and she’s determined to clean up Winter’s father’s messes. And it’s not like she hates Cinder; she really wouldn’t have agreed to live with her if she cared all that much.
Cinder huffs. “Well, good for her.”
“Good for her,” Winter agrees. “Have you thought about calling your coworkers?”
“Ex-coworkers,” she says snippily. “Why should I? What am I going to do, contribute to the collective air of misery?”
And to that, she doesn’t have a response. Winter was never all that close with her coworkers, either; she’s convinced most of them hate her, after all.
//
“What are you doing?”
Cinder gestures to the TV, pointedly avoiding looking Winter in the eye. “Watching anything but the news. Why?”
Winter runs a hand through her hair — still slightly damp, annoyingly. “Can I join you?”
That gets her to look — and oh, Winter thinks, that’s why they avoid looking at each other so much; Cinder has beautiful eyes — “Why?”
“Nothing better to do.”
It’s true. Cinder eyes her like it isn’t.
“I’m sick of sitting around in my bedroom,” Winter supplies, “and you know I don’t use social media, so.” She waves a hand in the air.
She nods, once, like that’s good enough, and shuffles sideways.
Winter sits down next to her on the shitty couch she’s pretty sure Robyn stole from a tip somewhere and curls up as far away from her as possible. It’s — weird; she feels awkward, displaced. Cinder has always had that effect on her, really.
She stops paying attention to the movie they’re supposed to be watching after about fifteen minutes. It’s old, and one of Weiss’s favourites; she’s probably seen it a million times in the past decade. Besides, her mind is too occupied with Cinder’s presence on the other end of the couch — the way her fingers curl around her chin, her thumb nestled against her pulse point, the arrangement of her legs on the couch cushions, the slow movement of her hands as she tucks her hair behind her ear.
Winter has been telling herself for over a year that it’s stupid, that it’s superficial anxiety; that she isn’t nervous around pretty girls and she’s instead trying to predict when Cinder will look at her next, whether she’ll try to touch her. It’s natural to be alert around people you don’t know all that well — at least, it’s natural for Winter, it has been ever since she was small — and it’s not like they’ve ever made any effort to get comfortable with each other, anyway.
The thing is, though: Cinder is gorgeous. The thing is, she’s not so sure it’s anxiety any more.
She watches her watch a movie from a thousand miles away, feeling distinctly untethered — and she’s always felt untethered, so this is nothing new.
//
It becomes a thing, she thinks.
At least, it’s a pattern: most days they sit on the couch before dinner and watch a movie together, or sometimes Cinder puts on a series on Netflix or pirates something Winter hasn’t seen before. She suspects it’s because she’s noticed the staring — which she’s been doing less and less, thank you very much — and is trying to get her to stop it.
Whatever the case, it’s nice. Robyn calls them about two weeks into official lockdown and Winter gives her a long list of the things she’s seen because of Cinder’s efforts.
“Sounds like she’s been holding you hostage,” Robyn says, smirking, and the two of them exchange a look that feels all too familiar for their state of relative unfamiliarity. “Winter Schnee watching horror movies?”
Winter raises an eyebrow at her. Cinder laughs. “She’s weird as fuck,” she says — not an explanation, Winter thinks; fuck you — “I couldn’t have her watching nature documentaries all day.”
“You know, not that I’m complaining, but we really need to get you an Instagram or something,” Robyn grins.
“That’s my sister’s job,” Winter mutters, sinking onto her folded arms. “And I’ve seen horror movies before, you know.”
Cinder drums her fingers against the tabletop. She’s dropped the weird prickly act, which is a relief; Robyn said it was how she made friends when Winter first moved in and after about a year of knowing her, she’s inclined to disagree. The Cinder left behind in the wake is different, quieter, and she seems to dislike Winter a lot less. “We’ll catch you up, don’t worry. Tomorrow: ATLA.”
Robyn’s jaw drops. “You haven’t seen ATLA?”
Winter sucks her bottom lip between her teeth reflexively, avoiding both of their gazes. “You know how I grew up.”
“But still,” Cinder says emphatically, “come on, we have to fix that, right?”
“I mean, I’m not protesting —”
“You know she hasn’t played any video games either, right?”
“Not true,” Winter mutters, looking away from the screen. Robyn’s expression has gradually sloped into something more and more teasing, and she doesn’t want to have to bear witness. “You forget I have a seventeen year-old brother. I’ve played video games.”
Cinder snorts. “Yeah, like what?”
“First person shooters, mostly,” she lies — it was Minecraft, and only once, and only because Whitley begged her to help him do some calculations. Both Robyn and Cinder seem to sense the lie, judging by the matching half-smirks they’re wearing, and she groans and covers her face with her hands. She really does need to get better at lying.
//
Cinder, true to her word, makes her play games, too. They start out small — “Animal Crossing? Really? Come on, I was raised in a shithole and even I’ve played Animal Crossing,” — and graduate to stealing the VR headset someone got Robyn for Christmas from her bedroom.
“If they knew Robyn they’d know she fucking hates VR,” Cinder says blithely when Winter flat-out refuses to take anything from her roommate, “it makes her feel sick. She’s not even taken it out of the box, look.”
“Still,” Winter protests. Cinder levels a Look at her, and suddenly she can’t think of a convenient way to end the sentence.
Being locked in a house with Cinder doesn’t seem like so much of a chore anymore.
//
“So how’re you getting along?”
Winter bites her lip, glancing between the door to her bedroom (closed) and Robyn on her phone, propped up against her bed’s headboard. “Much better than we were. Why?”
Her smile grows sly. It’s annoying. “No reason. I just, like — I know you didn’t really get along beforehand. It’s good to see you talking.”
“We got along just fine,” she protests — categorically untrue, but she can dream — “and we’re getting along better now. Don’t look at me like that.”
“I know you think she’s hot,” Robyn sing-songs.
Winter groans and hangs up on her.
PROMPT: TEAM CATRADORA
Date: 2024-07-10 01:33 am (UTC)PROMPT: TEAM CATRADORA
Date: 2024-07-10 01:35 am (UTC)(did the girls time travel? is it Flintstones style? are the dinosaurs yuri? your decision)
PROMPT: TEAM CATRADORA
Date: 2024-07-10 01:38 am (UTC)PROMPT: TEAM CATRADORA
Date: 2024-07-10 01:41 am (UTC)PROMPT: TEAM CATRADORA
Date: 2024-07-10 01:42 am (UTC)PROMPT: TEAM CATRADORA
Date: 2024-07-10 01:43 am (UTC)PROMPT: TEAM CATRADORA
Date: 2024-07-10 01:46 am (UTC)FILL: Team Webcomics/Webtoons
Date: 2024-07-15 04:42 pm (UTC)Words: 208
Notes: First in (hopefully!) a series of River bubble AUs which I’ll be posting until time runs out tonight.
——
Harrow sits nervously at the counter, checking her watch every few seconds, trying and failing to ground herself in the clink of glasses and the fizz of their contents.
This is exactly where the tall and muscular redheaded stranger in the leather jacket had told her to wait, exactly when she told Harrow to expect her. She glances to the window, sees nothing, runs through a million panicked scenarios in her mind - a tragic crash, a cruel joke, a last-second change of heart - that might get between her and her very first-
“…date?”
Harrow had forgotten Dulcinea’s presence. (She had been there the whole time, surely?)
“Lost in your own world again?” Dulcinea smiles gently. “Checking your watch isn’t going to make it move any faster, you know.”
“I know,” Harrow responds with what she hopes is not petulance. “I just… you really think that a girl like that would go for a girl like me?”
“I think anyone would be lucky to have a girl like you,” Dulcinea responds, laying a hand on Harrow’s trembling arm.
And as the sound of a motorcycle approaches, and Harrow’s heartbeat accelerates in time, Magnus turns from his place behind the counter and says:
“Is this how it happens?”
PROMPT: TEAM CATRADORA
Date: 2024-07-10 03:03 am (UTC)FILL: Team Anime/Manga
Date: 2024-07-15 10:12 pm (UTC)word count: 415
pairing: winter schnee/cinder fall
fandom: RWBY
//
“Winter,” Cinder starts — and then, lips curling up appreciatively, “Ooh, that’s new. You should have told me you were coming like that.”
Winter tugs self-consciously on the lapels of her blazer, avoiding her gaze. “I thought I’d surprise you.”
Cinder looks her up and down, scrapes her raw. Trapped inbetween her and the wall, Winter swallows thickly, aware of the places where her gaze lingers and where it doesn’t like she’s aware of her own heart beating against her chest. When she speaks again, her voice is low, sharp: “You have. You’ll save me a dance?”
“My dance card is looking a little full,” she says, unusually high-pitched. Cinder’s answering smile unwinds slowly, pins her in place — she knows she’s trying and failing to tease her. Not for the first time, Winter wishes she was a better liar. “I’ll have to find you later.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” she grins.
//
Cinder winds up filling as much of her dance card as she can get away with. She looks gorgeous tonight, which is why Winter lets her take up as much time as she does — she has no idea who she had to kill to get her hands on that dress, but it makes her seem starbound, limitless — and the smirk she gives her when they finally wind up arm in arm makes it almost worth the hassle of politely telling Henry Marigold to fuck off about twenty times in a row.
It’s a good thing the music is loud enough to hide their conversation, because Cinder does an awful lot of talking.
She steps up to Winter’s ear and talks rapidly, low and urgent and heated: “You’re looking awfully busy tonight. Mind stepping away with me later?”
“You’re the reason I’m busy,” Winter mutters, brushing her fingers against her arm. Cinder’s entire body shivers at the contact.
“So you won’t have a problem accompanying me home, then.”
She looks up at the chandelier overhead, at the ceiling of the ballroom, and imagines Cinder’s mouth on her neck, fingers curling into the back of her shirt, pressing her closer — “I’ll have to see.”
“We’re adults. We can do what we like.” Cinder’s fingers slip through hers, tugging them closer and closer until their shoulders are bumping. “Who’s going to stop you, hmm? Who’s going to find out?”
It doesn’t matter, is the thing. Winter has a suit and a dance card and Cinder’s hand in hers, and it’s getting harder and harder to give a shit anymore.
PROMPT: Team Transformers
Date: 2024-07-10 11:59 pm (UTC)FILL: TEAM ACE ATTORNEY
Date: 2024-07-15 07:46 am (UTC)“I am letting you off with only minor penalties,” Barok van Zieks said stiffly, “because—”
“Because it was fucking hilarious,” Asougi contributed from his place lounging against the wall.
“Because,” van Zieks said, “you did only play a minor role. But next time, you will not be so lucky. Understand?”
“Whaddya mean a ‘minor role’? I was the whole brains!” Gina put her hands on her hips, then froze. “Er, I mean, if I’d done it. Which I didn’t. So… So!”
“I am sure if Miss Lestrade had done it,” Maria said, “we should be proud of her for dissecting the competition.”
“See?! Ria gets it!”
“But she did not,” Maria continued. “Pity.”
“…Yeah, pity,” Gina tacked on.
Maria was glad, for once, that the other humans were so incompetent at detecting her own facial cues; if van Zieks knew how amused she was, the meeting would probably go for another hour.
Gina slanted a mischievous grin at her.
Correction, Maria amended silently. The humans other than Miss Lestrade.
“You aren’t truly upset, Lord van Zieks,” Asougi pointed out. “They were oil barons anyway.”
A long-suffering sigh from Maria’s superior: “I suppose Inspector Lestrade could have chosen worse targets.”
“Yeah, they were all rotters,” Gina said, flipping one hand dismissively. “Uh, not that I’ve seen ’em before. Or ’eard of ’em.”
It was interesting, Maria thought, that Miss Lestrade, whose previous job had depended so strongly upon telling falsehoods, was so very terrible at them. Maria, of course, was hardly any better, on account of her lack of training; but then again she had always prided herself on telling the truth when Mama — when others were so determined to hide it.
But Maria conceded to herself that something about Gina trying to lie was deeply charming. Perhaps it was something about the way the truth nevertheless announced itself in every one of her nerves and muscles and tendons. Something about how no matter what her words might say, Gina remained so clearly herself.
“…dismissed,” van Zieks was saying. “But next time, do spare me the paperwork this has caused.”
“On it!” Gina saluted, then turned to Maria. “Oi, Ria, d’ya got any cases tonight?”
Maria ignored Asougi’s snort and van Zieks’s eyeroll, and smiled back at Gina. “I do not.”
“Great!” Gina was already dragging her out by the hand. “’Cause I’ve got somefin’ I think you’ll really like…”
-
“Your mouth tastes like the product of Apis mellifera.”
“A what?”
“Honey.”
“Oh.” Gina drew back to grin at her, eyes creasing at the corners. “Sure you don’t just think I’m sweet?”
Maria leaned in again. “More experimentation may be required, Inspector.”
“What does that — mmph!”
PROMPT: Team Transformers
Date: 2024-07-11 12:08 am (UTC)FILL: Team Anime/Manga
Date: 2024-07-15 09:55 pm (UTC)word count: 1217
pairing: winter schnee/cinder fall
fandom: RWBY
//
They land on a beach.
Winter isn’t conscious for the landing, has been unconscious for a long time, but Cinder is. She sees the land hurtling towards them and slows their fall, guides them into the surf — this is what she tells Winter later, slurred with exhaustion, sand in her hair — and lets go of her at last.
(There was no point in killing you in your sleep, she says, because I’m pretty sure if I left you alone you would have died anyway.
Winter smiles. Probably, she admits.)
Winter wakes up just as the sun sets. She lies on her back in the sand for a little while, searching for memories, and finds that the more she thinks about it the harder it hurts. It’s not much, but it’s there: Penny’s hands in hers, blood in her mouth, Weiss reaching for her, falling — and then, Cinder, and the void sucking them down, and blood, always blood —
“There’s no point,” someone says, “we’re probably both dead.”
She blinks up at the fading sky. “I refuse to believe I’d be in hell with you.”
“Who says we’re in hell, darling?” Cinder’s voice purrs. Winter’s fingers curl into fists, and this is how she discovers her sword is still in her hand, encased in ice, sticking to her fingers.
“I have a hard time imagining you anywhere else,” she snaps. It’s not very convincing; her voice breaks on the last syllable.
Cinder pauses, audibly. Winter stays on her back, staring up at the sky, and waits for her to speak. When she does, it’s halting, unsure: “You were crying in your sleep.”
“Pain response,” she bites out. Distinctly untrue. She knows she was crying because she knows she was dreaming, and she hasn’t dreamed of anything good since she was seventeen.
It occurs to her, then, that Cinder hasn’t tried to kill her yet. Maybe they really are both dead.
//
Strength returns to her slowly. She stays in the sand, surf kicking against her feet, until she’s sure she can sit up again — and Cinder remains out of view all the while. It should be unnerving, but she isn’t feeling much of anything right now.
She aims for sitting up and fails miserably, winds up gasping for air on her side. Cinder’s gaze prickles uncomfortably into the back of her head.
“Tried depositing your aura anywhere?”
Winter grits her teeth. “I don’t have any.”
A laugh. “You’re sure? You’ve been out for a while.”
“I don’t have any,” she repeats, “because I have almost died three times in the space of about three days —”
“Four,” Cinder corrects.
“ — and I’m not convinced I should have survived at all.”
Cinder falls silent.
Winter blinks sand out of her eyes, determined not to cry. It’s strange, how distant this all feels. Cinder, her enemy, sitting on a beach in the void between spaces with her, somehow not attacking her the entire time. It’s almost completely dark out now, and there are no stars. “To be honest with you, I’m not entirely sure how I’m conscious right now.” I’ve never been in this much pain in my life.
“There we go, then.”
“What?”
“We’re probably not dead.” Fabric shifts. “I’m going to see if I can find us any food. Don’t kill me or I’ll kill you back.”
“That doesn’t even — what?”
Cinder sighs, like it’s obvious. “We’re probably not dead, so we fell somewhere. That means if we jump right into killing each other all over again we won’t make any headway. You want to get out, don’t you?”
Winter looks up at the starless sky and finds she doesn’t have a good answer to that.
“Whatever. I want to get out. I’m taking you with me so your idiot sister doesn’t murder me on sight.”
That’s right, she thinks, suddenly indignant, that’s right; you —
Fabric shifts again, and sand with it. “So what I’m saying is: you try to kill me, I’ll try to kill you right back. You’re not in a position to negotiate, look at you. You can fuck off once you can stand if you want; all I’m asking is that you leave me the fuck alone. Sound good?”
It doesn’t sound like anything Cinder Fall has ever said before. Winter turns until she’s sprawled awkwardly across the sand, searching for her face; she finds her hovering behind her, hands propped on her hips. There’s nothing angry in her eyes, but nothing else, either. She seems — blank, unfocused. It’s weird.
“What happened to you?” Winter asks.
Cinder’s eyes narrow. Her Grimm arm flexes, leaking shadow. “There’s nothing left for me up top.”
Winter peers at her, and finds what she’s looking for: dried blood smeared on her shirt, her neck, her jaw, scratches and scars from where she’s tried to claw the Grimm out of her. Falling with her must have been an act of betrayal, it seems.
“Huh,” she says. “Well, that sounds fine to me.”
//
She comes back with food that looks edible enough. The moon — un-shattered, which is weird as shit — is high over the beach by the time she returns, and Winter has pulled herself upright and propped herself up against a log.
“That’s my log,” Cinder says. “I found us something.”
Winter eyes the plants in her hands. “How do you know they aren’t poisonous?”
“I’m not dead yet,” she grins, “and plus, I saw some like, bipedal mice eating these, so. They’re fine.”
“Bipedal mice,” Winter echoes.
“Of course, what else?”
Cinder looks at her expectantly then, like she’s waiting for her to laugh. Winter doesn’t think she’s laughed at anything in about a year, so she turns away and goes back to staring at the horizon, watching the sky and the sea melt into each other.
“Oh, right,” Cinder says, “I forgot you’re you.”
That raises a lot of questions, most of which Winter isn’t sure she wants the answer to. The moon drifts along the surface of the water in time with the waves lapping against the beach, the heartbeat of the world, and she wonders for a moment what it would be like to fall beneath it. The image of a mirror shattering comes to mind, of gold bursting through her fingers, of shifting white lights the size of her hand —
“Can you walk yet?”
She jolts a little, snapping herself out of her thoughts. “What? What sort of question is that?”
Cinder gestures at her, smirking. It’s one hell of a smirk; she is, Winter thinks distantly, absolutely gorgeous, as much as it feels like betrayal to admit. “You’re sitting, aren’t you? On my log. Can you walk?”
She looks stunning out here, framed in silvery moonlight. Winter blinks up at her — rubbing a bit of smeared blood off of her cheek, free hand propped on her hips, cradling food that looks like cheese if it was absurd — and finds herself short of breath (anger, she decides; anger), floating free.
“No,” she says without thinking about it. “I’ll camp on the beach.”
Cinder worries her bottom lip between her teeth. “And/or wait here to die, got it.”
“I — no? What?”
She gestures to her again, flame dancing across her fingertips. “Your idiot sister is here somewhere. Come on; we’re going to the treeline.”
“What? Why?”
“More shelter.”
PROMPT: TEAM OC (Moon)
Date: 2024-07-11 07:15 pm (UTC)PROMPT: Team Transformers
Date: 2024-07-12 03:59 am (UTC)PROMPT: TEAM HORROR ANIME/MANGA
Date: 2024-07-15 05:49 pm (UTC)PROMPT: TEAM HORROR ANIME/MANGA
Date: 2024-07-15 05:50 pm (UTC)