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yurishippingolympics
For this bonus round, we're looking for high fantasy prompts & fills!
For reference, high fantasy is defined by being set in an alternative, fictional ("secondary") world, rather than the "real" or "primary" world.
This round will close on August 14th!
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: Tokusatsu Yuri Ships United Front
Date: 2024-08-02 01:59 am (UTC)PROMPT: TEAM TRANSFORMERS
Date: 2024-08-02 02:07 am (UTC)FILL: Team Anime/Manga
Date: 2024-08-02 09:11 pm (UTC)Winter sits in the shadows of Cinder’s den and waits. The sun crawls low across the floor, slipping away from her feet; smoke from the fire pit drifts out through the huge entrance, and she’s sure the scent will never come out of her clothes again. She counts the minutes, counts the hours, waits and waits and waits and still no one comes for her.
“See?” Cinder says when the sky turns dark, “I told you. No one’s coming.”
“They’ll come,” Winter tells her. She hasn’t turned to look at her the whole day; her eyes have stayed fixed on the entrance since Cinder brought her here. “They always do.”
“Where’s your proof?” she asks. Winter can’t see, but she can imagine the expression on her face — the raised eyebrow, the beginnings of a sneer, the smoke winding around her fingers. She’s been standing in the fire pit for a while, drinking in the heat. It reminds Winter of a piece of meat turning on a spit.
She sighs through her nose. “I’m the heir to the throne. They have to come.”
Cinder’s voice rises over the crackling flames, but her words are soft. “I’ll take you back if they don’t.”
“No, you won’t.”
“I will.” The smoke cuts off abruptly. Winter turns her head and finds Cinder looking at her, body submersed in flame. Her eyes are — intense, to say the least. “The least they can do is come for you. Or does Atlas really think that little of its elites?”
Winter laughs roughly. “My father has been looking for opportunities to get rid of me for years. You’ve done him a favour.”
Cinder sinks to her knees, uncurling. Scales form around the corners of her eyes, black and jagged. Winter rolls her eyes; she always transforms like this when she gets annoyed. “I’ll burn down that whole castle, then.”
“Oh no,” Winter says dryly, “don’t.”
She emerges from the fire pit, covered in soot and wreathed in smoke. Winter blinks up at her and finds her taller, broader — scales have started to crawl down her shoulders, her canines have elongated into fangs. “I’m serious. I don’t like being proved right by Solitas royalty.”
“Mm.”
Cinder stoops to pick Winter up off her rock. Winter rolls her eyes again, but lets her. She’s never felt as safe as she does in Cinder’s arms, ironically. She tilts her head into Cinder’s shoulder and says, “So you want to be rid of me too, hm?”
“Not at all.” Cinder presses a rough kiss to the top of her head. “I want your dad to fall off a cliff and die.”
“That could be arranged, probably,” Winter agrees. “Good thing I’ve got a dragon to help me.”
She snorts. “I’m not incinerating him. He deserves less dignity.”
//
Cinder flies her back to the edge of the kingdom. Winter watches her scowl get deeper and deeper as she goes, watches her pupils grow slitted, and wonders how she’s going to stage an intervention between a king and a dragon.
The shattered moon is hanging low in the sky when Cinder lands in a copse outside a farmstead, shrinking back to her regular height. She takes long, deep breaths as Winter adjusts her jacket, scales blurring back into skin, and waits to walk her along the long road to the castle. Winter takes her arm gratefully. It’s been a long day, and she wants to go to bed.
There is no fanfare for her when she arrives, no greeting. Winter walks through the corridors of the castle with Cinder on her arm and even the guards don’t spare her a glance. Cinder’s expression has hardened into one of fury by the time they reach her room.
“Fuck him,” she says, the moment the door shuts behind them. “Fuck him. I’ll burn this whole place down. Fuck him.”
“You’re staying the night, then?” Cinder glares at her, but there’s no heat behind it. Winter shrugs. “If my siblings were here there’d be a nationwide search.”
“I’m sure.” Fire flickers in the pupils of her eyes, still sharpened into slits. Winter pictures the whole place crumbling to ash and feels no small amount of satisfaction. “I’ll stay here until someone notices you’ve returned.”
“You will, will you?” The corners of her mouth flick up into a smile.
Cinder steps into her space, pressing their foreheads together. The lights in Winter’s room are all off, and the moonlight is filtering coolly through the curtains. No one has been in her room since she left it. “I’ll stay until you tell me to leave.”
//
Correspondence arrives on her desk in the morning from her father, asking her to attend dinner that night. Winter brings Cinder with her, and afterwards she burns the letter and every single one like it to nothing.
FILL: TEAM TRANSFORMERS
From:PROMPT: TEAM TRANSFORMERS
Date: 2024-08-02 02:13 am (UTC)Fill: Team Magnus
Date: 2024-08-02 07:19 am (UTC)As the Keeper of the Tomes, the Mage of the Eye, the Beholder Of All, the Advisor to the Throne, an Avatar of the Eye, and someone who was above beginner's level magic, Gertrude found it quite offensive that her knowledge of such a rudimentary spell was being challenged.
"I know how to make a perfectly fine fireball, thank you very much," Gertrude snapped.
Agnes tilted her head, long strands of auburn hair spilling off her shoulder. The movement caused a few strands to spark a little. Gertrude didn't know how Agnes didn't burn her clothes, much less wear a hat, but it is quite a bad look for a queen to be perpetually naked. For this meeting, she had forgone her regular queenly attire for a more casual look: a long, dull red gown that reached her feet, with a brown cloak thrown over it. A black dahlia brooch fastened the cloak in the front. Gertrude didn't want to think about how good Agnes looked with her hair down, or what her hair might feel like, but the thoughts kept creeping back every so often.
"What about one that is better than fine?" Agnes asked.
"If I have the time, yes, but we don't! If--"
"Then take me with you."
"That's an even worse idea. The last thing we need is King Amherst and Dame Prentiss knowing that we've been colluding!"
"But can you fend off the Rot with just your own magic reserves?"
"I can bring spell materials to craft them, as well."
"You need to pack light, though. Remember, the aim is to go unnoticed."
"I'm well aware, Agnes!"
Agnes sighed. "Why are you so against taking me with you?"
The sadness in her voice gave Gertrude pause. Was Agnes... hurt? By the prospect of getting to stay safe?
"I don't want you to get hurt," Gertrude said, then quickly amended it with, "Your people-- if you got hurt--"
"I won't."
"You don't know that!"
"Can't you?"
Gertrude gritted her teeth. "That's not how that works."
"Then how does it work?"
"You'll have plenty of time to figure that out. We're bound together for life, after all," Gertrude said with disdain.
"And The Mother Of Spiders has probably told everyone about our little arrangement, which means King Amherst likely knows."
"But if he doesn't--"
"He'll blame my kingdom for the fire no matter what."
"Which is why I was going to tell him when I got back."
Agnes's jaw dropped. "You can't be serious!"
"Of course I am! Do you know how bad someone starting a war with your kingdom would be for everyone?" Also, she couldn't let Agnes get hurt by whatever the Corruption retaliated with. Because she was a queen. No other reason.
"I will not have it," Agnes said in the same tone she spoke in when she was Queen Agnes.
Gertrude sighed. "...You really want to invite this upon your kingdom?"
"What Amherst and his patron have planned needs to be stopped. It is not my fault they forgot to fireproof their fungus," Agnes replied, almost smiling.
Gertrude smiled, then stopped herself. "Right. Well. I must say, your fire is much preferable to any spell I could cast."
Agnes smiled, a weird little twisted thing that still made Gertrude's heartbeat quicken.
"Now that our meeting is over, I don't suppose I could interest you in a tour of our new garden? We couldn't have made it without your plant prowess and protection spells," Agnes said.
"I'm afraid I must leave soon to be back home before dark--"
"You're not staying the night?" Agnes asked, incredulous but also... was that a twinge of disappointment in her voice?
No, Gertrude decided, it couldn't be. Must be her imagination.
"King Elias is expecting me to be back tonight, but..."
"Just a quick peek?" Agnes pleaded.
Gertrude sighed, her mouth betraying her with a smile. "Alright. Just a peek."
PROMPT: TEAM TRANSFORMERS
Date: 2024-08-02 02:16 am (UTC)FILL: TEAM TOUHOU
Date: 2024-08-03 01:47 am (UTC)I don't like this ship personally. I made it work.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/57873793
FILL: TEAM TOUHOU
From:PROMPT: TEAM TRANSFORMERS
Date: 2024-08-02 02:22 am (UTC)FILL: Team Anime/Manga
Date: 2024-08-02 10:21 pm (UTC)“So,” Cinder says, walking her fingers along Winter’s desk, “you’re an antique collector?”
“And seller,” Winter says boredly, palm in her cheek. “Your point?”
“My point,” she echoes. Her voice sounds a little too loud; she corrects as she goes on, pictures the human body she left behind and slips into the space it occupied. “My point is that you don’t see a lot of those these days.”
“You do.” Winter steps around the side of the desk, pointedly ignoring Cinder’s attempt to catch the hem of her sleeve.
“Not that many with these kinds of items.”
She turns to face one of the shelves lining the walls, rearranging a few trinkets, pulling out price tags. Cinder steps away from the desk and folds her arms, curling her fingers around her sides. Her flesh has held up well; she’s not been dead for that long. “I’m sure you could find a few in the area. Are you looking for anything specific?”
The pulse under her fingers is unnatural, slow. Faster than it’s been in months, though. Cinder tilts her head up and smirks as Winter looks at her, burying the weird sick anxious feeling deep below the confidence she’s dredging up. “A few things, actually, but I need a collector’s eye.”
Winter’s shoulders rise a little. It could be the beginnings of a laugh. Good; that’s what she’s aiming for. “Of course.”
“So, speaking of. Any glass eyes?”
She actually does laugh this time. Her head dips a little, her shoulders rise again. It’s cute. “A couple.”
//
Winter takes her into her back room, and Cinder takes the opportunity to step right up to her. She’s a little taller than Winter, so her head hovers over her shoulder as she scans the storage boxes.
“So, a glass eye,” she says, “and a jar with — mystery liquid.”
Cinder nods. “Preferably organised by mystery-ness.”
Winter chuckles. “Alright. I only have so many books that fit your description, though. Not many authors write about the permeability of the soul.”
“I know a few,” Cinder says. Winter sucks in a breath as she puts her hands around her waist, sucks in another as she settles her head on her shoulder. “How much would one of those cost me?”
Her shoulders lift in a shrug. Cinder smiles. “For you? Not that much at all.”
Winter reaches up to lift a box off one of the shelves. Cinder curls her fingers around her bicep and appreciates the way it moves underneath the fabric. “Well, I appreciate that,” she says, trying not to sound too smug. “I’ll definitely come again if this is the kind of service I can expect.”
“Mm.” She flips open the top of the box. “Mysterious enough for you?”
Cinder doesn’t even need to look to know they’re not the right jars. She shakes her head softly, flicking her hair out of her vision. The beating heart of her magic is still here, still within reach — she can feel it, could touch it if she just —
Winter props the box back up off the shelf and takes something out from behind it. Cinder’s hands move without her quite telling them to and snatch it out of her hands immediately.
“That one, then,” Winter laughs.
The glass is cool under her fingers. Cinder shakes it a little experimentally, and almost immediately feels dizzy. An equally airy, soft laugh slips out of her mouth. “This one. Thank you, my dear.”
“Um,” Winter says eloquently.
Prompt: Team Anime/Manga
Date: 2024-08-02 02:27 am (UTC)PROMPT: Team Rosemary
Date: 2024-08-02 02:28 am (UTC)FILL: Team Anime/Manga
Date: 2024-08-04 09:27 pm (UTC)“There’s been another robbery,” Weiss announces. Winter, still halfway through getting her jacket off, groans loud enough that the dog jumps to his feet and scuttles away.
“Really?” she says. “Really? Again?”
Weiss shrugs. She’s already suited up; she must have waited for Winter to come home for hours. “It was the bakery this time, if you’re curious.”
Winter kicks off both of her shoes and slumps down on the floor next to the kitchen table, wondering what it would be like to know a moment’s peace. “You’ve accepted the request for help, then?”
Weiss rolls her eyes. “You’re the local village chosen one. I don’t think you get to accept.”
Winter has been saying this all her life. Still, she lets her head rest back against the table leg and sighs at the ceiling, finds herself wishing she were someone else, anyone else. (These are selfish thoughts; she has never quite grown out of them.)
//
Weiss walks her up to the top of the road, to the hill that overlooks the slope down to the Lord’s castle. This is her favourite kind of mission, Winter knows; she carries both of their swords the whole way, curling and uncurling her fingers around the hilts. If the situation calls for violence — which it probably will — she’ll be invaluable, and she knows it.
“Good luck,” she says before Winter goes, “and try not to maim her this time.”
Winter shrugs, accepts the sword Weiss hands her. It’s her oldest, the one she made with her grandfather before he disappeared. She usually takes it with her to confront Cinder. “I make no promises.”
Weiss snorts. “I’ll be here. Call me if you need me.”
She usually winds up bursting in anyway. Cinder has a habit of challenging Winter to duels.
Winter nods regardless, because it’s kind of her to offer, and starts down the hill.
//
Cinder waits boredly for her in the throne room, draped over the metal like a cat. It’s a bit ostentatious for a local lord, but something within Winter enjoys the theatre of it all.
Her lips curl up into a smile when she sees Winter approaching. “Hello, chosen one.”
Winter glares at her. Her arms are folded behind her back in parade rest — she cannot show any hint of a threat, or Cinder will respond in kind — but she can feel the weight of her sword at her side, desperate to get it over with already. “Hello, my lord. Care to explain?”
“‘Greetings,’” Cinder corrects lazily, “and I shouldn’t have to explain what I do on my own land to an outsider.”
Winter has not been an outsider in nearly two decades, but she doesn’t bother mentioning it. “It’s my job to know. People look to me to fix their problems.”
Her smile unfolds, sharpens. She rises to her full height — which is tall — and holds out an arm, graceful, catlike. “Fix them, then.”
“Do I really have to fight you again? I’ll win, and you'll complain.”
The air bends around them; Winter blinks, and Cinder is standing directly in front of her, fingers curled around the collar of her shirt. She doesn’t let her pull her off-balance, aware of the press of Cinder’s hand at her stomach. “We’ll see, won’t we?” she purrs, and Winter shivers.
PROMPT: Team Rosemary
Date: 2024-08-02 02:28 am (UTC)FILL: Team Anime/Manga
Date: 2024-08-03 10:34 pm (UTC)Winter,
The textbooks you asked for have arrived at the library. I’ve tabbed the sections you requested and I look forward to discussing them with you at our meeting next week. I do wonder if the evidence you’ve come across will be enough to challenge this paper.
I must say, the idea of magical theory being constructed socially is something I’ve never thought to defend. The nature of magical practice is an interesting one. I’d be interested to help you refine your thoughts.
Yours, Cinder Fall.
//
PROF. WINTER SCHNEE - Card Number 1099113 - SIGNED IN AT [12:11] [04/XX/XX]
PROF. CINDER FALL - Card Number 1099186 - SIGNED IN AT [10:57] [04/XX/XX]
//
PROF. WINTER SCHNEE - Card Number 1099113 - SIGNED OUT AT [00:49] [05/XX/XX]
PROF. CINDER FALL - Card Number 1099186 - SIGNED OUT AT [00:49] [05/XX/XX]
//
Dearest students, professors, and staff,
We would like to once again issue a request to refrain from making loud noises in the library. It is of utmost importance that our most sensitive spells be kept in a calm condition. Any loud noises or vigorous physical activity could potentially disturb the spells and cause a mishap.
Many thanks for your cooperation,
Professor Ozpin
FILL: Team Kittyuri
From:FILL: TEAM KITTYURI
From:PROMPT: Team Rosemary
Date: 2024-08-02 02:33 am (UTC)FILL: Team Kittyuri
Date: 2024-08-02 10:06 pm (UTC)Word Count: 452
“Fuck,” Artemis mutters under her breath, drawing the symbol in the air for what feels like the hundredth time. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
The charm explodes in a cloud of smoke, coating the room with the scent of ash. She waves her wand around angrily to dissipate it and it’s only the expensive price tag attached to it that keeps her from breaking it over her knee.
Zatanna is left standing in the entrance when the smoke clears, looking amused.
“I don’t think that was supposed to happen,” she says cheekily because she’s Zatanna Zatara, the school’s darling, prodigy daughter of renowned magician Giovanni Zatara and magician extraordinaire.
Normally, Artemis wouldn’t care. Normally, Artemis would just turn up her nose and keep walking. Artemis isn’t even here to study magic, she’s here to study swordsmanship and archery from the country’s best and it is only because of Arcana 101’s placement in the fucking required curriculum that she ever picked up a wand in the first place.
“What was it supposed to be?” Zatanna asks. Her eyes are ablaze with mischief and Artemis glares at the smoke that’s vaguely gray in lieu of meeting her gaze.
“A wolf shapeshifting spell.”
Zatanna elbows her in the ribs.
“You’ve got the bark and bite nailed down!” she says and Artemis only restrains from trying to bite her head off because that would prove her point. “Let me help you with your spellwork.”
Artemis physically recoils because she knows that freebies are either junk or not truly free.
“Why?” she spits and Zatanna lowers her arms like she’s approaching a rabid dog.
“Because I’m a nice person,” she says in a voice of faux-innocence. “Plus, I’m bored.”
She redraws a line at the top of the charm and the symbol stabilizes, sounding less like some demon is trying to bang their way out of a pipe and more like a quiet hum.
“Fine,” Artemis spits, swallowing her pride. Zatanna grins and crosses the threshold into her personal space uninvited.
It goes smoother with her doing the linework though. It isn’t long before the whole thing glows gold, humming to life. Artemis feels her skin tingle for the first time all day and there’s a brilliant flash of light before the world washes white.
When she can see again, the desks have doubled in size and Zatanna towers above them all, blinking down at her.
“Did it work?” she asks and Zatanna’s answering grimace isn’t exactly reassuring. She shrugs her shoulders and points towards the window instead.
“See for yourself.”
Artemis turns towards the glass and comes face-to-face with the reflection of a tiny, small chihuahua.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!”
“Can I make this my lockscreen?” Zatanna asks, kneeling down to get a better angle. Artemis shrieks as the flash goes off.
PROMPT: Team Rosemary
Date: 2024-08-02 02:34 am (UTC)FILL: TEAM ACE ATTORNEY
Date: 2024-08-02 11:57 am (UTC)Gwen glared down at the rug in the detention room.
Her fingers itched for her wand. She had a habit of running her thumb over the etchings woven around it: the delicate lettering of Bouchard, the five-petaled Cheshire crest and the vines that twined around her name, Gwendolyn. Nothing obnoxiously loud like some other students’ scepters and staffs; the Bouchards had no need for that. The wood spoke power all on its own. It wasn’t Gwen’s fault that most people didn’t know how to listen.
But now even that had been taken from her.
Gwen gripped the edge of her chair so hard her knuckles turned white, and kept glaring at the rug. Maybe she could burn a hole in it with heretofore-unprecedented fire magic and then that would show them all —
“Gwen?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Gwen said automatically.
“I wasn’t going to ask,” Alice said, still frozen in the doorway. Gwen didn’t have to look up to picture her face perfectly. “Uh, you know you shouldn’t be lookin’ at that?”
“At your face?”
“No, at the rug. The patterns in it make you slower.”
“What, really?” Gwen tore her gaze away. The muscles in her arms and legs did feel weaker, like her nerves couldn’t quite tell them to flex as quickly as before. She’d thought it’d just been the usual magical blowback after everything had gone down with Wilde.
“Yeah,” Alice said. “And the walls are made of all the students Lena’s killed in here for throwing paper airplanes one too many times.”
Gwen made a face at her.
“And you don’t even want to know about the ceiling—”
“Please stop,” Gwen said, debating whether she had enough dignity left around Alice to make putting her face on the desk a significant risk.
“Okay, yeah, I’m messing with you,” Alice said, grinning. “But seriously, don’t look at the rug, I wasn’t kidding about that thing.”
“How many times have you been here?” Gwen muttered.
“Enough,” Alice said breezily, finally walking over. She sat down on the chair next to Gwen’s and started twiddling her thumbs.
“Right.”
The blissful silence lasted about thirty seconds before Alice unceremoniously broke it by drumming her fingers on the table.
“So, Gwendolyn—”
“It was just an argument,” Gwen said. “And I was right, Wilde was being stupid, I told Lena it was a bad idea—”
“Whoa whoa whoa,” Alice said, holding up her hands. “I told you I wasn’t going to ask.”
Oh. Gwen felt like the stupid one now. Stupid and small.
“Although,” and Alice leaned forward, eyes glittering: “who’s Wilde?”
“New student,” Gwen said. “Grace Wilde. Lena wanted me to show them around, as a Peer Advocate.”
Alice made a choking sound.
“What?”
“You’re a Peer Advocate?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” Alice said, which meant it wasn’t nothing, but for once Gwen didn’t feel like interrogating her more. She was just tired.
“And they said they could tell I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth, which isn’t true, but they said they could tell from my wand and I just—” Gwen tightened her grip on the chair. “I don’t know. Lena had to pull them off of me.”
“Not you off them?”
“It’s a long story,” Gwen muttered.
“Yeah, you look it,” Alice said.
Gwen looked over at her, ready to snap because couldn’t Alice tell that Gwen was tired?
But Alice wasn’t smiling. She was just — gazing back at her, dark brown eyes solemn, chin propped on her hand. Listening to her.
Gwen felt something in her chest stutter. She looked back down at her desk as fast as she could. She was far too young to die of heart arrhythmia.
“I don’t need your pity,” she said, when the silence stretched.
Alice snorted. “I don’t pity you.”
“Oh.” It was just the closest match Gwen knew to whatever emotion had been behind those eyes. “Well. What were you going to ask in the first place?”
“Whether you know how to play Chopsticks.” Alice swiveled to face her and extended her index fingers.
Gwen stared at Alice. Then at her hands. Then at Alice again.
“Just do the same thing I’m doing now” — Alice wiggled her fingers — “and if I tap you you have to raise another finger, and if you get to five on one hand then you lose—”
“Oh,” Gwen said, surprised. “I know that game. We called it Sticks.”
“Wow, I wasn’t aware you had a childhood!”
“Shut up,” Gwen said, and turned to face her. “Do I start?”
“Since I’m feeling generous,” Alice allowed.
Gwen tapped a knuckle, trying to not think about the fact that this was the first time she’d ever deliberately touched Alice Dyer in her life, and then the game was on.
(She lost seven times before they were let out of detention. By the time they walked out, Alice bopping her on the shoulder before she waved a goodbye while Gwen yelled at her that she knew Alice had cheated somehow, she’d forgotten about her wand entirely.)
FILL: Team Anime/Manga
From:PROMPT: Team Rosemary
Date: 2024-08-02 02:34 am (UTC)FILL: Team Anime/Manga
Date: 2024-08-04 09:28 pm (UTC)“Give me the map,” Winter says absently. Robyn shoves the paper into her hands without sparing her a glance. “We should be in sight of the tower by now.”
Cinder curls around her back, props her head on Winter’s shoulder. One hand trails around Winter’s waist, the other touches the small of Robyn’s back. She’s carrying both of their backpacks, but the weight doesn’t seem to bother her. “Are you sure? I checked the distance last night, and we’re still within the limits of Solitas trading routes.” Her arm extends over Winter’s shoulder and points to the creek ahead, brushing past her cheek. “You see that? That’s the Briar.”
“I surmised,” Winter says dryly.
Robyn presses against her side. The cool leather of her bracers sends a pleasant shock up Winter’s spine. “The Briar runs through the border. We’re likely still on the Solitas side, see? If we were in Mistral we’d be able to see the tower.”
A sigh works its way through her lips before she can think to stop it. Cinder, the little shit, curls tighter around her waist, as though Winter’s irritation is amusing to her. It probably is, really. “If we don’t find the tower within ten minutes of crossing that creek I’ll —”
“Eat dirt,” Cinder fills in for her, sounding smug.
Winter elbows her. She reels away, laughing. Robyn’s hand on her forearm glows a particularly victorious shade of green; Winter elbows her too.
“She’s willing,” she announces anyway.
FILL: TEAM FIRE EMBLEM
From:PROMPT: Team Rosemary
Date: 2024-08-02 02:35 am (UTC)FILL: TEAM ACE ATTORNEY
Date: 2024-08-03 08:37 am (UTC)It was always weirdly peaceful watching Franziska work at her desk. Her magic — a steady bright blue color, not anything like Maya’s flickering purple fire — rearranged the files in front of her, bringing the right one to hover right before her face. Franziska plucked it out of the air without even looking at it and kept writing.
“What’s the report for?” Maya asked.
“Investigation expenses,” Franziska said. Maya craned her head over to look. Franziska’s scribbles were tiny and neat, almost like computerized calligraphy; no one would ever believe Franziska wrote by hand and not magic if they hadn’t seen her at it in person. The red string between them was tied on Franziska’s ring finger, and it bobbed up and down as her pen moved over the page. As Maya watched, she slashed a zero precisely through its center.
“How long is it going to take?”
“Three hours.”
“Three — Franziska!”
The pen actually paused on the page. “What is it?”
“You’re going to hurt your eyes! It’s been the whole morning already!”
“I will eat when I am hungry,” Franziska said matter-of-factly.
This was another thing Maya didn’t understand about Franziska. Lunch was the happiest part of Maya’s day! She could eat burgers and ramen and fries and everything Kurain Village didn’t have just by walking down the street. Franziska treated it like an event her body had to undergo in order to continue being a perfect prosecuting machine.
Well, except for one thing.
“We’ve still got some chocolates,” Maya pointed out, batting her eyes.
Franziska froze.
“They’re in the freezer right now,” Maya went on. “And some of them even have strawberry on the inside…”
Her girlfriend bit her lip. Worried at it with her teeth. Maya leaned forward in anticipation.
“Later,” Franziska decided ultimately.
Maya groaned and flopped back on the bed. “Franziskaaaaaa.”
Franziska quirked a grin, as she always did when she beat Maya at their little mind games, but it was gone as soon as she turned back to the report.
Hmm. Drastic times called for drastic measures. Maya looked around the room for inspiration, but all she saw was a long cardboard tube. If this were Nick she was dealing with, Maya would just bonk him over the head, but somehow she doubted Franziska would react nearly as well to such methods.
Maya absentmindedly plucked at their shared string. Her end was looped over her wrist, opposite from the corded bracelet that all the Feys wore that circled around her other arm. It was a nervous habit Maya had, fiddling with their string — she liked pulling it away from her wrist and then letting go so it would snap lightly against her arm. Like the rubber band trick to stay awake, but even more fun!
She wasn’t expecting it to actually make a sound.
It was a low twang. Not particularly sharp or loud, but Maya froze. A warmth coursed through her veins, like the kind brought by a reassuring touch on her skin, like she could stay and watch Franziska forever as she moved through the world as a knife moves through butter.
Franziska’s pen had stopped. Maya sat up straight and noticed, then — their string had been caught under Franziska’s elbow as she was writing. And Maya hadn’t really ever gone to school, but she knew how vibrations worked.
“Did you—” Franziska’s voice came out quiet, almost breathless.
In lieu of an answer, Maya reached out with her other hand and pinched the string a little distance away from her wrist, then twanged it again.
The sound was higher now. It soared in the air; the comfort still thrumming under Maya’s skin shifted into something giddier, something that made her break into a grin. “Wow!”
“That’s a G natural,” Franziska said. She’d laid her pen down and was staring at Maya, eyes wide.
“You have perfect pitch?!” Maya blinked. “Wait, of course you do.”
“The string must have been too long before to make any audible sound,” Franziska murmured, gazing down at the red line shimmering between them. Then she looked back up at Maya. “How did you know to do that?”
“I dunno,” Maya said automatically, then paused. Now she thought about it, the feeling of strings under her fingers was familiar. Aunt Morgan had tried to teach her and Mia the zither once, and Sis had been amazing at it, but Maya preferred plucking the strings with one hand flat on the instrument because the sounds that came out were so much weirder and fun.
(Aunt Morgan had disagreed with her on the meaning of fun, but Maya persisted!)
“Must be the Fey blood,” she added, poking her tongue out.
“No, I believe it is just you,” Franziska said, grey eyes solemn.
Maya swallowed. When they’d first met, those eyes had bored into her even as she told Nick to plead justified self-defense instead of a not guilty. Maya had stared back, defiant, because who was this girl anyway? And when Franziska turned away she’d felt victorious, but also strangely like she’d lost something.
Now she had the full force of Franziska’s attention on her again, except now her eyes were wide and serious and — soft? Awed?
“Well anyway, we should experiment!” Maya said, heart beating faster in her chest. “Here, you take that side and I take this side…”
Franziska did so gingerly, like she was afraid to break their connection — as though anything could, Maya thought fiercely. As though after everything, Maya wouldn’t stick by her always, string or no string.
“I’m gonna twang it and you can slide your finger over so we can see what happens when the pitch changes,” Maya said, grinning at her girlfriend, and Franziska smiled back.
Oh, she was so glad she’d found a way to distract her from paperwork.
FILL: Team Anime/Manga
From:FILL: Team Kittyuri
From:PROMPT: Team Rosemary
Date: 2024-08-02 02:37 am (UTC)FILL: Team Anime/Manga
Date: 2024-08-06 09:53 pm (UTC)“I don’t think we could —”
“I’d really rather not —”
“I mean, have you seen my ass in these trousers? A princess? Legally I don’t think I’d be allowed to —”
“That’s beside the point,” Goodwitch says sharply, slamming the books in her hands down on the table. Both Winter and Cinder jump back automatically; Cinder clings to Winter’s arm like it’s her life’s mission to piss her off, and Winter tugs it out of her grip the moment she’s realised Goodwitch isn’t going to throw one of the books at her. “I don’t care what excuses you can come up with, you aren’t getting out of this. You literally physically cannot. You are in this prophecy, so act like it.”
Winter clears her throat, straightens her back. Something about the tone of her voice reminds her very sharply of Ironwood, of being 300 again, and it’s been thousands of years since but she’s never quite come to terms with what it did to her, exactly. Goodwitch fixes her with an assessing look that does nothing to make it any better.
“Yeah, well,” Cinder says from next to her, arms folded defiantly, “what if I don’t want to?”
Goodwitch snorts. Cinder keeps staring at her.
“You don’t get an option, unfortunately. It’s, what, ten years of your life? You’re immortal. You’ll survive.”
“I’d really rather not,” she drawls. “I quite like my prophecy-less life. Don’t you agree, Winty?”
“Fuck you,” Winter says under her breath. Cinder’s stupid smug face splits into a wide grin.
//
“Look, here’s what I’m thinking.”
“Oh, that’s new,” Winter says without looking at her. Cinder keeps pace, jogging alongside her down the corridor. She’s a good three or four inches taller, but Winter has been a fast walker since she was born. “Care to enlighten me? I’ll have to report this miracle to head office.”
Cinder elbows her. It hardly throws her off balance. “Shut the hell up. You’ll like it, I promise.”
“Will I, now?”
They turn a corner. Cinder turns to face her, folding her arms behind her head. People in the corridors of the facility shoot her offended looks as they swerve around her; she hardly seems to notice. “Okay, well. You’ll love it if you think Goodwitch is insane.”
“I’ve worked with her for seven hundred years,” Winter says idly, folding her arms behind her back before Cinder can try to grab them. “I trust her judgement, even if I — disagree.”
It’s clearly what Cinder was waiting for. She steps out in front of her, chin tilted up. “It’s simple. We ditch.”
“You can’t ditch a mission, Cinder.”
“Wrong. I can do whatever I like. What are they gonna do, kill me?” She falters for a moment. “There’s a loophole, I swear. I’ll find one.”
“Yes, yes, you’re very smart,” Winter says.
Cinder rolls her eyes, face wiped clean of any vulnerability. “I’ll figure it out. And when I do, you have to bow all low and say thank you, Cinder, for being so excellent and kiss my boots —”
Her room appears at the end of the corridor. Winter practically sprints inside and slams the door in Cinder’s face.
//
It’s not that she minds being part of any sort of prophecy, really. She’s grown used to the monotony of it all, and she welcomes the excitement of it all — people remembering her name for a few extra decades, the rush of holding a sword in her hand again, that kind of thing. It’s more that she’s tired, and she wants to take a break.
And, Winter thinks, she just doesn’t want to this time around. She likes the monotony. She likes letting the time slip by, likes being left alone to do fuck all for once. Even living in the facility, no one bothers her unless it’s important, and it rarely ever is. Time slips past her like air through her fingers, and it’s — nice.
And there’s Cinder, which is a different matter entirely.
She rolls onto her back, stretches a hand over her head to touch the moonlight. There’s not a lot of it, down amongst the mortals. Prophecies tend to distract from the little things. There’s no time to take it in when you’re on a mission, when you’re dying over and over again.
Winter flexes her fingers against the blue, imagining it tangible, fixable. Ten thousand years, maybe more, and no one will leave her alone.
PROMPT: Team Anime/Manga
Date: 2024-08-02 02:37 am (UTC)FILL: Team Anime/Manga
Date: 2024-08-07 09:32 pm (UTC)“I think she’s mocking me,” Cinder mutters under breath, stepping around Emerald to avoid knocking over the tray in her hands. “She keeps looking at me.”
Emerald huffs a laugh. She sets her tray down on the counter and pushes Cinder gently out of the way, obviously intent on not slacking off on the job. “Everyone keeps looking at you. It’s because you’re hot, Cinder.”
Cinder aims a kick at her shin as she crosses behind her again. “Or maybe she wants to kill me and harvest my organs.”
The elf woman in the seat by the window glances away, curling her fingers delicately around the handle of her cup. She looks like she doesn’t belong in a coffee shop, let alone one on this side of town. Besides, Cinder thinks, she’s very obviously paladin with a proclivity for ice magic, and she can’t imagine hot drinks are much fun anymore.
Emerald laughs, long used to her bullshit by now. “She’s Weiss’s sister. You know Weiss?”
Cinder grits her teeth. “She’s the bane of my existence.”
“Well, she tips well, so,” Emerald says airily. “If Winter’s looking at you it’s probably not —”
“Winter?”
She shoots Cinder an odd sideways glance, brows furrowing. “Yeah. Winter Schnee. Why?”
Cinder covers her mouth with her hand, biting her lip to keep herself from audibly laughing. “She’s an ice mage, Em.”
As though she can hear her, the elf woman — Winter, with the white hair and the blue eyes and the ice sigil patch on the forearm of her jacket — shifts in her seat, bringing her cup to her mouth. Cinder watches her with no small amount of interest, too amused to really think of her as intimidating anymore. Although she does have a pretty intense stare —
“It’s a whole thing,” Emerald says, a little tightly. “You should ask her about it, if you’re not planning on working today.”
Cinder snorts, picking herself up off the counter. “Okay, point taken. I’ll clean your cups, or whatever.”
//
Winter stops by the counter to return her cup. She catches Cinder’s eye on the way out, and Cinder thinks it isn’t much of a stretch to find the tips of her ears decidedly pink.
PROMPT: Team Rosemary
Date: 2024-08-02 02:39 am (UTC)FILL: Team Kittyuri
Date: 2024-08-02 10:24 pm (UTC)Word Count: 440
The girl trespassing on her pack’s territory looks like she’d fall over if a hearty gust of wind took a shot at her. She also looks like she shops exclusively at Hot Topic.
As if to prove her point, she trips over air and lands on her butt at Yuri’s feet. She shrieks when she sees her and Yuri gets a front-eye view to two unnaturally sharp canines protruding from her mouth.
The girl still looks like she wants to wet her pants.
Ah. Ah. Yuri forgets about her form sometimes. She tries to shapeshift back into a human but the transition gets stuck halfway and lands her with an extra ears and tail. Must’ve been the coffee she drank at noon.
Oh well. Yuri uses her tail as a cushion and takes a seat on a nearby rock.
“P-P-PLEASE DON’T EAT ME!” the girl sobs, her hands clasped above her head. Yuri’s shock bleeds quickly into amusement and she watches as a literal tear slides down the girl’s cheek.
“Isn’t that my line?” Yuri asks when there’s a break in her gulps for air. The vampire blinks back at her confused and she taps her front teeth meaningfully in response.
“Oh,” she says, swiping at her eyes. “I’m a vampire but I’m nothing special. But you–you’re different.”
Different is not the word people have used to describe Yuri Han, daughter of the largest pack in the country’s alpha. People have used vicious and cunning, bratty and snobbish even but different is an interesting first impression.
“What makes you say that?” she asks and the girl blinks up at her, mesmerized.
“Someone as beautiful as you must be someone special,” she replies and then promptly combusts on the spot, spewing apologies about being presumptuous. Yuri’s heart clenches in her chest.
“You’re right, I am different,” she finally says, settling for diplomacy as she sticks one hand out. (Or maybe it’s just desperation to hold her hand.) “I’m Yuri.”
“Kitty,” the vampire replies quickly, taking her hand. “Please don’t eat me for trespassing on your property.”
Yuri tosses her head back and laughs–it’s a glorious thing in the light of the full moon.
“God, Kitty, I’m not my parents,” she laughs and she likes the way her name fits in her mouth already. “I don’t care what you do–actually, break some shit, that’ll really piss my mom off.”
“Oh,” Kitty says, looking remarkably more chipper now that imminent death is off the table. “Okay, sounds like fun.”
“Come on, I’ll show you where the best stuff is,” Yuri says, inclining her head backwards and Kitty smiles back in response. The moon is beautiful tonight as Kitty slips her hand in hers.
FILL: TEAM KITTYURI
From:PROMPT: Team Rosemary
Date: 2024-08-02 02:40 am (UTC)PROMPT: Team Rosemary
Date: 2024-08-02 02:41 am (UTC)PROMPT: Team Rosemary
Date: 2024-08-02 02:41 am (UTC)FILL: Team Kittyuri
Date: 2024-08-02 10:51 pm (UTC)Word Count: 802
There is a beautiful human who’s moved into the cabin at the edge of the woods and Marcille’s spent six days trying to get her attention.
The first two she wouldn’t come out because of the rain. Marcille returned to her home with her wings and clothes sopping wet, a pitiful state to match her pitiful mood.
The third and fourth, she was away on a business trip to town.
The fifth, she used the back door instead of the front and never passed the road.
The sixth, the human’s idiotic brother came out instead, pointing at her like he was a child discovering a shiny new toy and she clobbered him over the head to shut him up.
And that leaves her here on the seventh day, waiting a couple of steps from the front door and ready to zip to the back if she hears so much as a floorboard squeak. What else are her wings for, after all?
Thankfully, she ends up not needing to and the door swings open to reveal the human girl behind it, staring at her blankly. She rubs her eyes and points in a way that’s endearing.
“You have wings,” she says, dumbstruck. Marcille smiles and flits her wings the same way a peacock spreads their feathers.
“That’s right–I’m a fae,” she replies happily, sticking one hand out. “I’m Marcille.”
“Falin,” the girl responds, taking her hand. Marcille has to use all of her willpower to force her fingers to let go. “My brother and I just moved into the cabin over there.”
“I know–I mean, how nice! What a lovely cabin, it’s very… cabin-y. Have you considered having guests over?” Marcille tacks on a hearty laugh at the end to ease the awkwardness.
“No, we don’t know anyone in the area,” Falin replies.
“Well, you know me! You could take me… into your home! That’s right, you know–fae are actually very sought-after beings. We’re magic itself and some say even having a fae in your vicinity can improve health! Hahahahaha so yeah it would be crazy if you took me into your cabin.”
Falin blinks at her like she’s trying to swallow a waterfall.
“I made some extra stew, would you like to come in and have some?” she finally asks and Marcille can’t nod fast enough. As soon as Falin’s back is turned, she pumps her fist into the air.
The floorboards creak beneath their feet as they step and Marcille has to duck her head in on the doorway. There’s a giant metal pot boiling over a fire, the contents of it a suspiciously vibrant red.
“What a dis–”
“Oh, that’s the dinner I was talking about!”
“--stressingly good-looking stew you have over there!” Marcille laughs, coughing loudly to cover her blunder. Close one. “Looks amazing.”
In reality, it looks horrifying and Marcille’s pretty sure she spies a full fish bone peeking its head above the surface.
“Thank you,” Falin replies, bashful. Marcille could swoon on the spot–she’d eat five hundred suspicious stews to see that expression again. “My brother normally does most of the cooking but he’s in bed resting. Something must have happened to him yesterday because he stumbled in here with a giant bruise but no recollection of how he got it.”
“How fortunate,” Marcille says and Falin blinks at her.
“What?”
“I said how unfortunate,” Marcille amends, recovering flawlessly. Falin smiles up at her at that and she has to squint in the sudden brightness.
“Let me get you a bowl,” Falin says like she’s just remembered their original purpose and she pulls an earthenware dish from one of the cabinets. She ladles out a decent amount and Marcille gulps as a completely raw, unchopped carrot slides into her bowl.
“Looks amazing,” she says, thanking her lucky stars that either she is god’s best actor or Falin is hopelessly oblivious. “Can’t wait to have some!”
Falin smiles and watches as Marcille raises the spoon shakily up to her mouth.
“H-Here I go!” she says and jams the metal right between her teeth. She reels from the absolutely horrid taste and her eyes roll to the back of her skull.
“Tastes great!” Marcille shouts, flashing a feeble thumbs-up when she can see again. Falin smiles at that and finally makes a bowl for herself, downing two spoonfuls like it’s water.
By some miracle (read: dumping half the stew out the window when Falin isn’t looking and the other half into some ugly, giant-looking boots at the entrance), she manages to make it to the bottom of her bowl.
“Can I come back tomorrow?” she asks when she’s done.
Falin blinks at her like she’s said something silly before her expression melts into a smile. The warmth fills up the rest of the space in Marcille’s stomach.
“Of course!’
PROMPT: Team Rosemary
Date: 2024-08-02 02:43 am (UTC)Fill: Team Touhou
Date: 2024-08-07 07:48 pm (UTC)second time im writing for this ship for this event and holy fuck i locked in for it (i think i kinda didn’t get the memo 100% tho lmao)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/57995158
FILL: Team Anime/Manga
From:PROMPT: Team Rosemary
Date: 2024-08-02 02:44 am (UTC)PROMPT: Team Rosemary
Date: 2024-08-02 02:45 am (UTC)FILL: Team Anime/Manga
Date: 2024-08-04 09:43 pm (UTC)“Oh my g-d,” Winter says dazedly.
Cinder blinks at her, curls her fingers around the vial of her blood she left as an offering. “Yes,” she says, “that’s correct.”
She swallows. Swallows again. Cinder tilts her head up appraisingly, and something about it sends another wave of heat rocketing up Winter’s spine. The exposed column of her throat, maybe — the sight of the lightning scars weaving up to the underside of her chin, the blooming, shifting tattoos around her neck. She searches for something to say that isn’t oh my g-d, you’re so hot and settles on, “I didn’t think that would actually work.”
Cinder turns her head away from her, inspecting the vial. The smoke curling off of her skin makes Winter cough. “Mm, well. I tend to come when I’m called.”
“I didn’t realise you’d be so —” Winter starts, and finds herself faltering. “Forthcoming.”
She raises an eyebrow. “It’s only polite. You’re looking for a bargain?”
It sinks in like a blow. Winter snaps back to reality abruptly, straightens her back, raises her shoulders. “Yes. Um. I heard you were accepting patrons.”
“Funny way to phrase it, but I suppose I am, yes. What are you offering me?”
She winces. “My soul?”
Cinder laughs so hard she drops the vial. Winter jolts forward to catch it, but the smoke curls around it first, bearing it towards her. “Your soul, huh?”
“I’m not using it,” she says tightly.
“I can see that.” Cinder waves her hand dismissively. “Take the vial back. I don’t want it.”
“But — what do you expect me to do with it? I can’t just — and you need patrons, you need a foothold in the world; forgive my bluntness, but you’ll fade out and die otherwise —”
Don’t mention the d-word, Weiss’s voice says in her head, clear and reprimanding. Deities don’t like it when you remind them of the concept of impermanence. It brings them down to your level.
Winter flinches away automatically, bows low. Suddenly, the room seems alarmingly small, Cinder alarmingly close. Her laughter rings in her ears like a death blow, like a —
“Ooh, you’re fun. Don’t act like I dismissed you, darling; I didn’t. You’re not a spellcaster, are you? Blood is a component in most summoning magic. Keep it and get yourself something nice.”
//
She takes her vows that night, and comes home early in the morning. When Weiss asks her where she went for the day, Winter finds herself almost unable to answer.
PROMPT: Team Rosemary
Date: 2024-08-02 02:48 am (UTC)PROMPT: Team Rosemary
Date: 2024-08-02 02:48 am (UTC)FILL: Team Webcomics/Webtoons
Date: 2024-08-12 12:28 pm (UTC)fic: voulez vous! (you know the rules, you know the game)
Prompt: Team Anime/Manga
Date: 2024-08-02 02:53 am (UTC)FILL: Team Kittyuri
Date: 2024-08-03 07:29 pm (UTC)Word Count: 447
Ty Lee knows from the smell. The scent is thick and heavy, hanging in the air like fog as she pushes open the curtain to their shared bedroom.
Azula is hunched over the desk, three different books spread across the table. The one in front of her has a symbol drawn in dark red blood, the pieces of a shattered lamp next to it.
Ty Lee sighs and clears the dish in front of her–a half-eaten loaf of bread still on it. She fits her fingers into the bite marks left behind before she tosses it.
“What’d you lose this time?”
“Wrong question, Ty Lee,” Azula replies, shaking one finger at her without looking. “You mean what did I gain?”
Ty Lee frowns–she can fathom what she gained. Another spell probably, another limb traded for one with more strength but less humanity, another piece of her soul exchanged for power.
“What’d you lose?” she asks again, crossing her arms over her chest.
“My womb, if you must know,” Azula spits back. “The ability to have children for endless power, limitless power–I’ve never made an easier choice in my life.”
“You said that last time,” Ty Lee mutters, refusing to look at her. Azula stops at that–her brush scratching to a halt on the paper. She makes her frustration known loud and clear in the room, anger bubbling up in her throat.
“What do you care, Ty Lee?” Azula scoffs, her lip curled up into a sneer. She’s beautiful even in her unkempt state at seven in the morning, the emotions rolling off of her red and raw. “We’re not even anything special.”
It hurts more than it should–but that’s just par for the course with Azula. She presses Ty Lee’s buttons to remind them that she has them. Shock forms a hard lump in her throat and refuses to go down.
“Oh,” Azula says, chin turned up. “Did you think we were, Ty Lee?”
And because Azula is a study in contradictions–will hold her but only tight enough to leave marks, will kiss her but only when she needs to blow off steam, will sleep in her bed at night but will disappear by morning–Ty Lee grits her teeth and stands her ground.
“I care about you!” she shouts because there has to be purpose sewn into the lining of their memories, there has to be meaning to all the years and years that Ty Lee has given Azula by her side.
Azula laughs at her words and the smile spelled across her face is wicked but at least it’s genuine.
“Well, Ty Lee,” she says, turning another page written in blood. “That’s your mistake, isn’t it?”
FILL: TEAM TRANSFORMERS
From:PROMPT: Tokusatsu Yuri Ships United Front
Date: 2024-08-02 02:58 am (UTC)FILL: Team OC Sun
Date: 2024-08-03 01:09 am (UTC)-
It was one hour before the Coronation tournament.
Leona managed to slip away from the Eos elders. They became too preoccupied with their petty gossip and accusations to notice her. She found herself speed walking to the preparation tends. She looked around for a familiar round crest, and approached the opening of the tent.
She peaked her head inside and saw Diana standing alone. Gold and white armor hung loosely from her body. The metal clanged loudly as Diana moved. The queen was reaching behind her back in awkward angles, an attempt to fasten the armor by herself. After her stunt in the preliminary tournament, most of the kingdom of Eos had abandoned Diana. Elders, family, attendants. Leona was all she had left.
“Diana.”
She paused and turned towards the source of the sound. The two locked eyes, not daring to move a muscle. After an eternity, or perhaps only a few minutes, Diana cleared her throat.
“Leona.”
Leona bit her lip. “Let me help you.”
Diana closed her eyes and nodded silently. Leona fully entered the tent and moved behind Diana. She reached around and grabbed her chest plate. She pressed the plate to Diana’s body, then moved her hands to her back. She pulled on leather straps and slipped them through metal fasteners.
“How does that feel?” Leona asked.
“Good,” Diana replied, “Sturdy.”
Leona tucked the leather straps into the folds of the plate, making the armor look sleek and ornate. She reached down to fasten the leg armor, but instead, her arms wrapped around Diana’s waist. Leona’s fingers felt cold against the metal, but she could still feel the rise and fall of Diana’s abdomen as she breathed.
Diana leaned back into Leona’s embrace. Leona placed her chin on Diana’s shoulder and sighed. They stood there in silence, and eventually their breathing fell into a dichotomic pattern. Diana’s exhale matched Leona’s inhale. Opposites, complimenting each other perfectly.
“Please be careful,” Leona whispered. Her lips brushed against the crook of Diana’s neck.
Diana shivered under Leona’s breath. “I will,” she whispered back.
Leona pressed two small kisses to Diana’s shoulder. She slowly unwrapped her arms from Diana’s torso, and returned to fastening her armor.
Leona was on the last bit of the suit when a head popped into the tent. It was one of the officials for the tournament. “All queens to their designated Coronation entrances in five minutes.”
Leona grabbed the final pieces of the armor, the gauntlets, from the ground.
Diana shook her head, “I can put those on myself.”
“Hush. Let me do this for you.”
Diana opened her mouth to protest, but Leona’s glare quickly shut her up. She grasped Diana’s hand in her own, and ran her thumb across Diana’s knuckles. She slipped on the gauntlets and stepped back.
Leona glanced over Diana’s body. “Do you have your blade?”
Diana walked to the back of the tent and grabbed her long curved blade from the corner. She grasped the handle and pressed the tip to the ground.
Leona exhaled. “Okay. Good luck.”
Diana smiled at her, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thank you.”
Diana left the tent, and Leona followed. The queen jogged to her Coronation entrance. Leona stood at the entrance to the tent and watched her lover disappear into the stadium. She sat on her knees, closed her eyes, and muttered a prayer to the gods above.
FILL: Team Kittyuri
From: