yurishippingolympics | BONUS ROUND 1: THROWBACK PROMPTS

Dialogue : "I've been waiting at this station all my life for a craft to come home, to know they're still out there."

"Do you want to embark together and go looking?"

Prompt fusion: jock/nerd + yuri mangaka

girl!gustav/hime from In the Forest by Yellow Tanabe!

Genre fusion: cyberpunk/solarpunk (your choice) swashbucklers

Flower Language: Pansies and Yarrows

Dialogue

"I love you you"

"Don't do that to yourself"

Ship: OC/OC
Words: 365
Notes: Also posted to AO3.

——

It’s four in the morning, and the apartment is lit only by the occasional errant streetlight and the glow of a movie on TV that you can’t quite figure out how to ignore.

You should be asleep right now.

You should be a lot of things.

You try to focus on your computer, but the TV won’t shut the fuck up. It’s some cop bullshit, or maybe FBI, and it’s bathing the room in blue because everything is fucking blue now.

It’s her apartment too, she can watch whatever she wants to watch. You’re not going to complain. Not out loud, anyway. You can at least do that much for her.

When the credits roll, she turns to you and says: “I love you, you know.”

Before you can stop yourself, you respond: “I wish you wouldn’t do that to yourself.”

Fuck. Goddamn fucking lack of inhibitions.

She doesn’t seem surprised, at least. Just… disappointed? Exhausted? It’s four in the fucking morning, though; being exhausted is a given.

“You know I hate it when you say that.”

“And you know I hate it when you say you love me.”

No! Shut the fuck up!

You bury your face in your hands. You really should have gone to sleep the moment she started that goddamn movie.

“I don’t understand why you’re like this,” she finally says. “Like, I get it, shit sucks right now, but I’m trying to help you. Do you not want me to help? Just… why?”

You have a lot of answers to that question. It’s four in the morning. You’re unemployed. You’ve been off your meds for a month and a half, not that she knows that part. Your parents keep telling you how proud they are of you and it makes you want to rip their faces off. It’s four in the fucking morning.

You don’t say any of those things.

You say: “I’m going to bed.”

She mutters something that sounds like it ought to offend you. Good. You deserve it. You drop yourself onto the mattress without brushing your teeth. When she joins you a few minutes later, you somehow don’t flinch as she puts her arm around you.

Genre fiction

Final girls

Genre fiction

Monster romance

Prompt fusion

Vampires + Time travel

Tegan/Nyssa from Doctor Who (specifically Goth Opera)!
Art of Tegan from Doctor Who, standing in a dark castle. She holds up a flashlight and says "Nyssa!"

Prompt fusion

Ghost hunting + Influencers

Prompt fusion

Superpowers + Rival families

Flower language: White chrysanthemums carry different meanings in different cultures; they are either a symbol of devotion and loyalty, or a symbol of death and mourning.

ship: winter/cinder

fandom: RWBY

-

As long as Weiss has known Winter, she’s always been violently opposed to the concept of wearing flowers in her hair.

She’s braided them into Weiss’s hair before — even Whitley’s, once, when he was little — and she’s actually pretty good at it, but Jacques used to make her wear flowers when he was still entertaining the concept of shipping her off to the richest family he could find, and now that he’s dead Winter has picked up the habit of outright refusing to do anything he could have forced on her. It comes at the cost of matching (Weiss is mildly annoyed about the matching) but it makes all of them feel a little better, a little freer, so it’s worth it.

Besides, she reasons, just because they’re close now doesn’t mean they have to match. It’s just — for fun. Winter actually started painting her nails as compensation, and she was shit at it but it’s the thought that counts, so they could all be wearing the exact same shade of blue for the second anniversary of the end of the war.

So Weiss is surprised, and maybe a little bit indignant, when Winter starts wearing white chrysanthemums in her hair.

“They’re a symbol of mourning,” Whitley says when she asks. The two of them are standing on the balcony in Beacon’s newly rebuilt ballroom — since when did they have a ballroom? — and watching Winter in the crowd below, talking idly to Penny and Robyn. She’s holding a flute of champagne, but she hasn’t touched it since one of the waiters handed it to her.

Weiss’s eyebrows shoot up. “Who is she mourning?”

Whitley shrugs, downing his own glass — elderflower cordial; he doesn’t drink either. “Don’t know. It’s been two years. Unless she had a friend we don’t know about?”

“Winter’s entire social circle is our social circle plus Robyn,” Weiss says. “Maybe it’s like, a concept?”

Whitley snorts. “Winter Schnee caught mourning a concept at the end-of-war anniversary.”

“Yeah, it could be a symbolic thing.”

“It doesn’t match her suit at all,” he agrees. “It’s meant to stand out, maybe?”

“She’s not exactly known for her bold fashion choices, but I’ll take it,” Weiss says.

The doors at the end of the ballroom open, and a couple more people sweep in — Neo on Coco’s arm for some reason, Velvet carrying a two speakers and a table, and —

“Well, fuck,” Whitley says, whipping out his scroll.

Down in the crowd below, Winter’s face lights up. Weiss can’t help it; her jaw drops. Winter crosses the room, passing her still-full glass to Penny, who passes it to Robyn, and kisses the hand that Cinder Fall offers her.

“White chrysanthemums also symbolise devotion,” Whitley says helpfully, “especially in Old Mantleian culture.”

“They’re matching,” Weiss says. She can’t quite believe what she’s seeing, but then again, Winter’s taste in women has always been abysmal. Winter wraps her arms around Cinder’s waist and picks her up, definitely creasing both of their suit jackets, and proceeds to spin her around like they aren’t the Winter Maiden and the most-wanted criminal on the face of Remnant —

“Oh, wait,” Whitley says, “Cinder Fall is alive?”

Weiss groans, burying her head in her hands.

In response to the last of last year’s dialogue prompts:

“You ever considered what’d we do after this, assuming we get out of it alive?”

——

Ship: Deshavi/Ymira/the Captain (PC), from Mount & Blade
Words: 431
Notes: “Back on my bullshit” implies that I was ever off of it in the first place.

——

“Have you ever considered what we’d do after this, assuming we get out of it alive?”

You roll over to face Ymira - or her side of the tent, anyway, invisible in the pitch black.

“After…” you trail off, your question implied.

“After the war. After the Captain’s house is restored. After the raids have stopped. After… everything, really. What comes next?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never really thought that far ahead.”

It was the truth. Ymira doesn’t respond, though, so after a moment you continue.

“It’s never made sense to plan, anyway. I had plans for my life when I was taken by slavers. You can guess how much good that did me.”

“Did you want to…”

She hesitates.

“Ask me,” you say. “You know I don’t mind, not from you.”

“Is this anything like what you wanted, before? When you were little?”

You laugh. “Not in the slightest. My mother was a weaver. I thought I’d grow up to be just like her, when I wasn’t dreaming of being a noble lady in Praven. Those were just dreams, though.”

“You could still be a noble lady,” Ymira responds. She’s too far to elbow you, but you can hear the tease in her voice.

“That would require the Captain to notice me, and then choose me. It’s not happening.”

“She chose you once already, didn’t she?”

“She chose us both as her honor guard,” you reply. “That’s different. And besides, you’re the daughter of a wealthy merchant. I’m a peasant turned escaped slave. Can you imagine her choosing me over you?”

“Runaway daughter of a wealthy merchant. She’s already made enough enemies by taking me in. You were her first companion. You’ve stood by her since the beginning. Give yourself some credit.”

You both lie in silence for a moment.

Finally: “When this is all over, I want to open a shop in Veluca. I’ll trade in silks and wines, and I’ll send caravans to the Khergits to import spices. You can come visit me there. I’ll keep teaching you to read, and if you’re nice enough I might even make you my agent in whatever city the Captain stations you.”

“Still on your bullshit about me winning over the Captain.”

Her laugh is high, clear, weightless. “Well, it’s not like you’re planning anything different, are you? Maybe you can convince her to visit me as well.”

You hear a rustle, and then she’s in your bunk, same as she was the night before.

“Put your arm around me, Deshavi. You know I don’t like to sleep alone.”

You do.

In response to a dialogue prompt from last year:

"Worrying is pointless. Either everything turns out fine and you worried for nothing, or everything goes to shit and you wasted time that you could have spent sharpening your knives."

——

Ship: Deshavi/Ymira/the Captain (PC), from Mount & Blade
Words: 326
Notes: Posted from the depths of the Denver airport. Thanks, United.

——

It’s the fourth day, and the shadows are still following you.

“Bandits,” the Captain had said, and her own shadow - Deshavi, the Captain told you - had nodded in agreement.

“At least twelve of them,” the tracker had added. “Not enough to confront us directly, but perhaps they’ll meet some friends further down the road. That’s when they would attack.”

That was four days ago. It hadn’t been a comforting thought then, and it isn’t a comforting thought now. Four days, and the caravan hadn’t been attacked, but the caravan also hadn’t lost its shadow.

You’d volunteered for the first watch, knowing you wouldn’t be able to sleep until you were well and truly exhausted. You were surprised when Deshavi said she’d join you, as the Captain retreated to your shared tent to rest. Now she sits beside you, silent, eyes scanning the twilight for something you can’t make out.

“Worried?”

You half jump at the sound. She doesn’t speak much, and she’s never spoken to you directly.

“Worried? Why would I be worried?”

You hope the worry doesn’t come through in your voice.

Deshavi shrugs. “Why not? You’ve never been chased by bandits before, have you?”

“Well, no, but -”

“Worrying is pointless. Either everything turns out fine and you worried for nothing, or everything goes to shit and you wasted time that you could have spent sharpening your knives.” Then, after a moment: “But it’s also natural. I was worried, too, so I put myself to work. And now we have nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to…” you trail off, confused.

“While I was scouting our path, I met a Vaegir patrol out of Rivacheg. By this time tomorrow, every one of those bandits will be dead or in chains, all without us having to lift a finger.”

It still takes far too long for you to sleep that night, but for the first time since departing, you don’t wake again until morning.

Edited 2025-05-30 09:14 (UTC)

In response to a dialogue prompt from last year:

"I'd kill any of these fuckers for you in a heartbeat."

"I know. Please don't."

——

Ship: Deshavi/Ymira, from Mount & Blade
Words: 336
Notes: My crack-est of ships. CW for brief, oblique mention of sexual assault.

——

“They’re looking at you, you know.”

“I know,” you sigh. Deshavi would notice that, of course she would. And she wouldn’t shut up about it either.

“The Captain never should have agreed to pardon the bandits in exchange for their swords,” Deshavi continued. “We’d be better off fighting on our own, even outnumbered. We can make the village defensible, scrounge up arms for the people. It’s been done before.”

“I know,” you repeat. “You said that already.”

She doesn’t listen, or maybe she doesn’t care. “Never invite a fox to do a dog’s job. They can’t fight wolves, and they’ll eat the chickens while you’re not looking.”

“You’ve said that, too. And besides,” you let a tease into your voice, “foxes are cute. Nothing like these ugly bastards.”

“They won’t stop staring,” Deshavi says again. “They’re not used to seeing women at arms. And I’m old and ugly enough, but you? There’s only one thing they think about doing to you.”

“You’re, what, twenty-five? That’s not old. And you’re not ugly either.”

To that, she just grunts.

“Besides, they wouldn’t dare do anything to us now.”

“You’re goddamn right they won’t dare do anything to us now. I’d kill any one of these fuckers for you in a heartbeat.”

“I know. Please don’t.”

“It would be so easy. We have them surrounded. We have them outnumbered. We can get the drop on them in an instant.”

“The Captain swore an oath.”

“The Captain swore an oath, but I sure as hell didn’t.”

“The Captain swore an oath on all of our behalf,” you continue. “If they fight the Nord slavers and live, and if they renounce banditry forever, we’ll let them walk free, unmolested.”

Even without looking, you can hear Deshavi’s glower.

“She never swore that we had to fight beside them, though. If the Nords get to them first, well, better them than us, right?”

You’re satisfied at winning the argument, but even that can’t match the satisfaction in Deshavi’s voice as she responds: “Right.”

For dialogue:
"After everything I've done to you, why won't you just let me die?!"

"Because I want to see who you are under all that suffering."

Genre fiction: an android and her mechanic

fandom: RWBY

ship: winter/cinder

-

“Feel that?”

Winter hisses through her teeth. Cinder takes that as an affirmative and pulls the bolt a little tighter, bracing her feet against the crate Winter is sitting on for leverage. “Yeah?”

Winter nods, flexing her arm experimentally. “The plate is attached now.”

It’s not exactly a great fix; there’s still the barest hint of circuitry visible underneath the panel and it’ll probably be the first thing to come off in a fight, but Cinder will take that over nothing. Having Winter walk around with her arm hanging off would be worse. “Good,” she says, setting aside the wrench, “after all this is over I’ll get you some proper plating.”

“You can decorate it now if you want.”

Not the point, but it’s sweet of her to offer. “Yeah. You got anything in mind?”

Winter turns a little, offering her a half-grin. “Racing stripes?”

Cinder huffs a laugh. “Nice try.”

They’ve done the best they can with the body they were given. Winter’s eyes are still barely, unsettlingly green; her shoulders are too slight, and she has a couple of inches over Cinder that they’re both pretending not to notice. But, like she’s said, Penny isn’t using it anymore.

Actually, Cinder isn’t sure where Penny even is. There’s no trace of her in the programming — the programming she had to modify heavily so Winter’s fucking soul could get in there properly. Winter says she can feel the remains of her aura, but in the same way she can detect aura remains on objects that have been affected by semblance use. It’s like she just upped and left one day.

And this is what ‘the best they can’ looks like: the two of them hunched over together in their makeshift workshop in Vacuo, reattaching the parts of Winter’s fancy new body that keep trying to fall off.

Cinder crosses in front of her to put her toolbox away, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she goes. Winter doesn’t even flinch this time. “You’re going back out?”

She hums. “Tomorrow.”

“And then you’ll be back for more repairs when you run race-first into a brick wall and need me to save you.”

Winter cracks a proper smile. It looks a little lopsided on Penny’s face — Cinder modified it as best as she could, got her a whole new synthetic skin and everything, but it only goes so far, and she’s too nervous to try reshaping the skull casing. “Did you ever expect anything different?”

“No. I want you for your extreme clumsiness and lack of tact.”

“That’s what I was going for,” she says, smiling softly. Cinder bends to kiss her forehead again.

Genre fiction: Magical realism

Flower language: Pink camellias symbolise longing

ship: OC/OC (the troll is

hadopelagian's!)

Competition: Competing for someone's attention

Ship: Deshavi/Ymira/the Captain (PC), from Mount & Blade
Words: 241
Notes: This scene has been living rent-free in my brain for months, so it's nice to finally get it written down.

---

It's been a long day, filled with Emissaries and Proclamations and whatnot, and you would love nothing more than to get to your tent and get to sleep.

But first, you have to get past them.

Ymira speaks first, then Deshavi, their voices overlapping and blending into a continuous echo:

"Captain!"

"Captain!"

"Captain!"

"Captain!"

"Captain!"

You finally give in and meet Ymira's gaze, to which she says, "Hi!"

Deshavi just... giggles? Deshavi giggles?

Deshavi giggles.

You glance at her, then back to Ymira. "I need to speak with you in my tent. Alone."

Deshavi leans over to her and whispers something inaudible before dissolving back into incoherent laughter.

Once you're safely indoors, you turn to Ymira. "About what just happened -"

Her face abruptly falls, and she stammers out, "I'm sorry, Captain, it won't - that wasn't -"

"Wait."

She waits.

"Ymira, I don't know what's going on between you and Deshavi. Frankly, I'm not sure if I want to find out. But what I do know is that you made her laugh - you made her laugh, Ymira, in a way I haven't heard her laugh since the day I met her."

Her expression softens into something incomprehensible. That's fine. You don't need to comprehend it.

"Whatever you were doing, keep doing it. That's an order."

"Yes, Captain!" Ymira snaps to attention, and then, at your nod, leaves you alone in your tent.

You'll dream about them again tonight. That probably doesn't mean anything.

Edited 2025-05-28 22:45 (UTC)

For dialogue:
"This is all there is to love? Simply by being in your life I have added indelibly to it's weight?"

"Yes."

For dialogue:

"What are you doing?! My life doesn't matter!"
"I disagree."

Historical fiction prompt:

Titanic but make it yuri

Genre fiction: regency romance

(yes i just want yuri!bridgerton don't @ me)

Fusion:

Android & Human + Body Swap

ship: winter/cinder

fandom: RWBY

i think penny and sun would be great friends :]

-

“You’re not Winter,” Cinder says.

Penny groans, slumping forward onto the table. She’d been doing so well, too; even Marrow bought it when she called him Operative. On the other side of the room, Cinder eyes her critically, mouth pressed into a firm line. She doesn’t look — mad, per se, but she’s definitely not happy.

And who would be, really? Penny suspects that Winter is locked in her body, too, all the way over on the other side of the continent. There would be alerts if her systems went down; Dad would be panicking, would be petitioning the Vacuo government to let him send a team of Hunters after her. God, she must be so miserable out there.

“No,” she says off Cinder’s glare, “you caught me. I’m Penny.”

And just like that, all of Cinder’s anger falls away. She stares at Penny for a single, crystal moment, and then she turns around abruptly and says, “Okay, goodbye.”

-

Sun kicks his feet. “I dunno, it’s pretty freaky for me too.”

“But I —” Penny groans for the sixth or seventh time that day, burying her head in her hands. “I don’t know, I thought she’d be receptive to the idea? As in, I thought she’d want to help me get out.”

“Of her wife’s body,” Sun finishes. “That the girl she killed that one time is now inhabiting.”

“I suppose she did do that, yes.”

He shrugs, stretching his arms high over his shoulders. “Well, if you need a place to crash for the night, you’re more than welcome at mine.”

Penny brightens up immediately. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he says kindly. “Wow, it’s so weird watching Winter’s face do that.”

For flowers:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

- I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud, William Wordsworth

BONUS ROUND 1: THROWBACK PROMPTS

Prompt: Team Mecha

PROMPT: TEAM TOKUSATSU

FILL: TEAM YELLOW TANABE

Prompt: Team Mecha

Prompt: Team Mecha

PROMPT: TEAM OC

Fill: Team OC

PROMPT: TEAM OC

PROMPT: TEAM OC

PROMPT: TEAM OC

FILL: TEAM HORROR

PROMPT: TEAM OC

PROMPT: TEAM OC

PROMPT: Team OCs

FILL: Team RWBY

Fill: Team OC

Fill: Team OC

Fill: Team OC

PROMPT: TEAM RWBY

PROMPT: Team OCs

FILL: Team RWBY

PROMPT: TEAM RHYTHM GAMES

PROMPT: TEAM RHYTHM GAMES

FILL: TEAM ROSEMARY

PROMPT: TEAM RHYTHM GAMES

Fill: Team OC

PROMPT: TEAM RWBY

PROMPT: TEAM RWBY

PROMPT: TEAM CAITVI

PROMPT: TEAM CAITVI

PROMPT: Team OC

FILL: Team RWBY

PROMPT: TEAM ROSEMARY