for this bonus round, the theme is competition! pretty open-ended, prompts that are about some sort of competition! this round will end on july 31st!
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! To participate, reply to this Dreamwidth post!
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]
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PROMPT: Team Webcomics/Webtoons
Date: 2024-07-17 05:10 am (UTC)FILL: Team Anime/Manga
Date: 2024-07-27 09:17 pm (UTC)“What are you doing,” Cinder hisses over the top of her sword. She looks like the image of a warrior — teeth gritted, hair thick with her own blood, shirt torn — and it shouldn’t be hot, it shouldn’t be hot, but it is —
Right, Winter thinks, she was asked a question. She re-adjusts her hold on the hilt of her blade and pushes upward, forcing Cinder back. It gives her plenty of time to think of a suitable answer. “Fighting,” she says innocently. “Why?”
Cinder narrows her eyes, flicks Winter’s blood off of the edge of her sword. She must have caught the outside of Winter’s hand when she met her earlier. It doesn’t hurt, not really. “Fighting,” she echoes, and the sound of her voice feels like a blow, “really? You’re fighting? I’ve seen you fight, Schnee.”
That — hurts, actually. Winter glances up to the balcony over the ampitheatre, but finds she can’t quite find her father’s eyes. “I’m fighting. Why aren’t you?”
Cinder stands in the sand for a moment, chest heaving. It’s like Winter can see the gears turning in her head, the mounting anger — and she snaps, “Fuck you,” and launches herself across the space between them, sword first.
Winter dodges each blow, stepping back until Cinder has her pressed against the wall. This is possibly her most obvious mistake; she can feel the gaze of thousands of watchers prickling into the back of her neck, telling her to defend herself, and yet she waits until the last moment to block and spring aside. Cinder’s sword rattles as it strikes her crossguard, and this is the second warning sign. Too close.
Too close, she thinks again as Cinder chases her back, it has to be believable. Cinder is doing a lot better at masking it than Winter is — if she wasn’t pretending herself, she wouldn’t have picked it up. It helps, probably, that she has a reason to fight beyond apathy. It helps that there’s no one here to watch her fail.
“Come on,” Cinder snaps, swings high, “stop fucking waiting for me to come and hit you! Do something! Fight me!”
So she’s banking on Winter winning. That’s not good. Winter ducks below her hands as she lashes out and steps into her space, feeling out the gaps in her defense. Cinder backs up immediately, sensing an error — in any other fight this would have been the finishing move, in any fight Winter didn’t need to lose she’d have killed her hours ago — and it’s too late, she’s dashing the sword out of her hand and kicking Cinder down to the floor.
“Fuck you,” Cinder wheezes as she lands.
Winter kicks her sword out of the way for good measure. “You asked me to fight you.”
“Fuck you.”
“Do you surrender?”
There’s no sound from the audience, but she can sense the displeasure. This isn’t how these fights are supposed to go, even if they’re both banking on it. Cinder glares up at her, all blood and teeth, and wipes the sweat out of her eyes.
Then, growling through her teeth, she kicks Winter’s feet out from under her and scrambles away.