BONUS ROUND 1

[hso_mods]

Bonus Round 1

Genre-Mixing

Hey, shippers! Welcome to your very first bonus round proper--we hope you have lots of fun with it! This time around we're going to be asking you to mix it up a little--each fanwork posted for this round will be a mish-mash of two different genres, blended together in a delightful incestuous slurry to create an UNSTOPPABLE CREATIVE CONCOCTION--er. Or. Something.

Yeah, we're genre-mixing. That's what we're doing this round.

Rules

1. Submit prompts! Prompts should consist of two different genres and one ship. This cannot be your team's ship! These are worth 5 points each, for a maximum of 100 points per team.


2. Look through the prompts and fill whichever you like!


3. You may not fill prompts for your ship, nor may you fill your own team's prompts.


4. Fills should be posted as replies to the prompts which they are for, following the format below. They may be any medium.

Title Format
If you are starting a new thread, please use this format in your title.
PROMPT: TEAM [YOUR SHIP]
Replace [YOUR SHIP] with the name of the team YOU belong to; please use the characters and quadrant, not whatever portmanteau or nickname you've come up with.
If your team name is not in this format and in the title we cannot guarantee that it will be counted.

If you are filling a prompt, use this format in your title.
FILL: TEAM [YOUR SHIP]
Replace [YOUR SHIP] with the name of the team YOU belong to; please use the characters and quadrant, not whatever portmanteau or nickname you've come up with.
If your team name is not in this format and in the title we cannot guarantee that it will be counted.

Posts not using this format in the title will be understood to be unofficial discussion posts, no matter what they contain. They, like all comments on the comm, are subject to the Wank Policy.

Scoring
For prompt posts: 5 points each (maximum of 100 per team)

For fills (as stated here):
First 5 entries in each post: 30 (per entry)
Entries 6-10 in each post: 20 (per entry)
Entries 11-15 in each post: 10 (per entry)
Entries 16+ in each post: 5 (per entry)

All scored content must be created/assembled new for this round.

If you have any questions, please ask them at the FAQ post here, or email them to us (homestuck.shipping at gmail). Otherwise, we cannot guarantee that we will see them in a timely fashion!

Comments

PROMPT: TEAM Dave<3Sollux

[querulousartisan]

Jake <3 Ψiioniic (Post or pre scratch, either way) <3 Dirk

Biopunk and 1920's mobster. :D

PROMPT: TEAM JOHN<3ROSE

[astrologicallydubious]

Dave<3Jade
Musical Fiction + Space Opera

In other words, a... space jam?

PROMPT: TEAM ENGLISH

[paradoxcase]

I suddenly need a Vriska <3 Tavros clockpunk swashbuckler.

PROMPT: TEAM [FEFERI<3EQUIUS]

[oreoassassin]

disciple<3sufferer
parody + horror

PROMPT: Team Equius<3Tavros

[cygna_hime]

picaresque + noir
Dave<3Dirk

PROMPT: TEAM DAVE <3 JADE

[lolhi]

Magical Girl + Zombie Apocalypse, Dirk <3 Roxy

Re: PROMPT: TEAM DAVE <3 JADE

[cephelapoda]

I'm working on a fill for this! :O

PROMPT: TEAM EQUIUS<3TAVROS

[cygna_hime]

Meenah<3Aranea
Alternate history + Platonic dialogue

PROMPT: TEAM ENGLISH

[cerulean_neuf]

I really need some shenanigans with Aranea and Vriska (each session's troublemakers) and Aranea (sometimes the voice of reason, other times dangerous pirate).

Aranea/Meenah/Vriska/Aranea...

Medical romance, and Gangster

FILL: TEAM TEREZI >3> VRISKA

[cest_what]

Aranea Serket knew nothing about gang warfare, or the hypothetical gang affiliations of girls currently getting their rivalry all over her ER. She worked quite diligently to know nothing about these things, which was why she currently had her hands over her ears.

Unfortunately she couldn’t do this and also deal with the fracture in Meenah’s forearm, so eventually she dropped her hands and clapped one of them over Meenah’s mouth instead. Meenah widened her eyes in outrage, and Aranea tightened her hand before Meenah could bite her.

It was 1pm on a Wednesday, so Aranea was the only one on duty and there were no patients besides these two, which was something at least.

“Things I didn’t just hear,” Aranea said loudly, “include all references to the Seadwellers, who are a motorcycle gang I have barely even heard of due to my intensely law abiding ways!”

Vriska slung herself over the edge of the trolley Aranea had planted her on. She had to hold one hand over the blue stain at her hip caused by three trident-shaped gashes, but she managed a limping saunter across the room all the same.

Aranea turned to face her, lifting her chin. “I also heard nothing at all about the Bluebloods, whose terrible criminal ways bring a shudder to my gently reared soul when I hear about them, which is never!”

Vriska rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, coz, plausible deniability is so boring.” She leaned up against Aranea’s side, looking down at Meenah. “Hahahaha, gagged is a really good look on her!”

Meenah ripped her face away from Aranea’s hand, pushing herself up towards Vriska. She must have forgotten she was injured, because she pressed the hand of her broken arm down onto the trolley, then went dead grey and slumped back with a hiss.

“How do you feel aboat another set of fork holes, fishbait?” she gasped through her pain.

Vriska flicked her hair back over her shoulder. “Man, I let you get a hit in because I felt bad for you, Peixes.”

“Hey, zip it, both of you,” Aranea said.

Meenah flicked a glance at her, but still rose up on her knees, remembering not to use her broken arm this time. She tugged at Vriska’s hair, pulling her head forward. “You were sorry for me, fishbait?” she said, twisting her fingers in Vriska’s tangled locks. “You shouldn’t’ve been so koi aboat it! I could’ve told you I wouldn’t pity salmon like you if you were the last troll alive.”

Vriska’s eyes widened. “Ughhhhhhhh, pity, I’m going to break your other arm just for suggesting that!”

“Hey,” Aranea said. She flicked Meenah sharply on the horns, making her jolt and lean back with a wounded expression. Vriska was still draped over Aranea’s shoulder, and Aranea used that to tow her backwards, away from Meenah’s trolley. “While you’re in my ER, you will zip it the fuck up on all topics except those you both agree on!” Aranea tilted her glasses down to glare at each of them over the top of the frames. “I suggest talking about your mutual love and respect for your awesome friend-slash-cousin Aranea Serket, who puts up with your shit when nobody else will! Maybe you could talk about how cute her shoes are, and how awesome her personal style is in general! I bet you could get some mileage out of how much you both admire her amazing work ethic and sense of social responsibility!”

Meenah was chewing on one of the piercings in her lip. “While we’re in your ER?” she asked, eventually. Of all things in the world, Aranea suddenly felt wistful frustration coming from her like a hammer. She couldn’t read Meenah most of the time; fuchsia was way too highblooded. She glanced at Vriska, but her cousin was shielding from her like usual.

“I ... yes,” Aranea said, confused. “Out there I guess you can do what the fuck you want.” She waved a hand. “Just ... just stay where you are. I need to get more gauze and ... just stay, all right.”

She ducked out of the ER and around the corner, leaning against the wall and clenching her hands into frustrated fists. She dropped her head back with a thunk. Ugh, they were impossible. She wished the ER wasn’t the only place she could keep them from each other’s throats. She wished she could ... plant trackers in the backs of their necks, or something.

Kanaya from Paediatrics was coming down the corridor with her nose buried in charts. She lifted her head when she saw Aranea, and hesitated. “Is it Vriska and Meenah again?” she asked, after a moment. “That would be the third time this week.”

Aranea made a face at her. “I know. Ugh, I just. I love them both, but sometimes I hate them. I want to slap both of them upside the head till ... I don’t even know what.”

Kanaya chewed her lip. “Oh dear, this is very discomforting,” she said. “I’m finding it so difficult not to say anything, but it seems like a situation in which my style of meddling could be taken amiss, especially given that Vriska is my moirail. I’m not sure what to do.”

Aranea blinked. She could feel awkwardness coming from Kanaya in waves. “Well, what you’ve said so far is very unhelpful,” she said finally.

Kanaya hesitated again. “I suppose it’s only that ... I don’t believe that they come in because they need medical care. In fact I’m fairly certain that both of them erroneously believe themselves to be immortal, between ourselves.”

“Then why ... oh! Oh.” She blinked again. “But Meenah and I were flushed when we were seven,” she said stupidly.

Kanaya smiled, uncertainly. “You aren’t seven anymore, is I suppose the relevant observation.”

“Oh. They’re really ...? But that’s terrible.” Aranea brought her hands to her cheeks in distress. “If they’re letting their rivalry lead to injury just to come into the ER, I’m the worst auspistice ever.”

Kanaya raised her eyebrows, a kind of polite snark mixing in which her discomfort. “Do you really think that Vriska and Meenah would not injure one another otherwise. That seems unlikely to me. I would say that being ashen for you is the only thing that causes them to seek the medical attention that they do in fact need. They are not truly immortal, though as I said before I think they believe themselves to be so.”

Aranea touched her mouth. “Oh, of course,” she said distantly. She was trying to examine her own feelings. She was a mess about Meenah and Vriska, she always had been, but did she really feel ...

God, yes.

She turned on her heel, fast enough to almost leave skid marks on the floor. She threw open the door to the ER and stepped inside.

As expected, Vriska and Meenah were at each other’s throats again, Vriska’s stab wounds leaking blue once more as she wound one of Meenah’s ratty braids around her fist. Their faces were close together and they were hissing furiously at one another.

Aranea marched over, seized Meenah’s left horn and Vriska’s right, and knocked their heads together.

They let out identical yelps, letting go of one another, and turned to her wide eyed. Vriska was pressing a hand to her side, and Meenah was cradling her arm.

Aranea leaned back, her smile beatific. “Ashen for you,” she said. “You stupid fucking wigglers.”

Meenah leaned back on her good hand, all her tension gone. “Aight,” she said, easy and sweet.

Vriska looked from one to the other of them with a gut-wrenchingly vulnerable expression in her eyes. “Hahahaha, you’re so lame,” she said after a moment. “But all right, I guess if you guys want me that bad. I mean, I guess I’m flattered.”

Meenah lunged forward again. “Who the shell wants you, fishbait?”

Aranea knocked their heads together again.

And for a perfect suspended moment, the whole world made sense.

_______

So, uh, probably you weren’t actually asking for ashen?

PROMPT: TEAM BRO<3JOHN

[kuumpiim]

AR <3 Roxy
Western + Wizard Rock

FILL: TEAM DIRK♥JAKE♥JANE♥ROXY

[ferrrox]

theres an evil in the wzareding world
and it is you!
but good will previal
*prevail
no matter what you do!
(--harry and the potters, the dark lord lament)

PROMPT: TEAM ERIDAN<3FEFERI

[theseaisagreatplace]

Natural Disaster + Comedy
Dave<3John

Re: PROMPT: TEAM ERIDAN<3FEFERI

[rakopandaowl]

I just had the best idea ok I'm doing this

PROMPT: TEAM ENGLISH

[cerulean_neuf]

Vriska <3 Jake

Adventure and Documentary

PROMPT: TEAM DAVE<3<KARKAT

[makingtriangles]

Paranormal Romance + Urban Fantasy, Kanaya<>Karkat

FILL: TEAM KARKAT<3TEREZI

[xelfi]

Note: I personally believe that 'love' can be used to describe the feelings involved in all quadrants, but I know others have different opinions, so here's just a note so it doesn't throw you off when you reach that point in the fill. :>

---

You'd never actually met her in person, but it wasn't hard to remember her face from the countless memories of speaking with her over your shitty viewports during your many days of mutual insomnia. She'd always said that she found the sunlight unusually invigorating, which was really weird of her but you'd always dismissed it as part of her stupid rainbow drinker fantasies. There'd never been a point where you considered a significantly more realness factor in her interests--you were just glad that there was someone out there who was awake and trustworthy when the dayterrors claimed yet another of your attempts to sleep properly.

That was why you were so devastated when, after two days of terror-stricken stumbling to your husktop only to see her faded, offline icon, you'd learned that she'd been culled due to an unusual blood abnormality during a random health inspection in her area. Not only had you lost a friend--a really *good* friend--but her manner of passing did nothing to help your paranoia regarding your own unusual blood abnormality. You found yourself becoming even more of a recluse, never even leaving your hive at all anymore, and sustained yourself entirely on the random animal corpses your lusus dragged home instead of venturing out yourself to gather more well-rounded sources of nutrition. It was an extremely shitty life, but you didn't trust any public place anymore. Kanaya had been browsing through a small retail establishment when the drones had sectioned off the entire business sector. She would have been safe if she'd stayed out in her isolated desert hive that night.

You, on the other hand, are probably not safe at all even in your hive, because your stupid wiggler self had chosen a lawnring of all things, surrounded at all sides by other trolls in a designated residential area. A perfect draw for a random inspection. If you'd actually been smart, you would be living in a tree or cave in the middle of nowhere like some people you knew that you would never berate ever again for their lifestyle choices. Even withdrawing yourself from society was probably more counter-productive than anything--it was only a matter of time before your neighbors started to wonder why they weren't seeing you around anymore.

So, when you hear the screaming one late afternoon, only a week or so since she disappeared from your life forever, you think that's it. Your time is up. There's no use even trying to run or hide because the drones are supposed to have some sort of heat vision or something because warmbloods are frequent runners. They can plainly see you sitting on your ass in front of your husktop, staring at your offline chumproll since you'd woken up five hours ago, mentally constructing mashed up stitched together conversations from what you remember of ones that actually happened. You couldn't bring yourself to just reread the logs, because that just underlined the fact that she was gone--you would rather delude yourself into imagining a new troll log unfolding before your eyes. Now that reality is rearing it's ugly head, though, you're at least able to look forward to whatever awaited you on the other side of your culling. It was better than dwelling on what was left of your life. Either you'd be wiped from existence entirely, erasing all the pain and regret, or you'd actually be able to see her again in whatever afterlife gathered the rejects of troll society. Neither of those possibilities sounded so bad, really.

It's weird how you're not scared at all when you rise up to look out the window. Maybe you're in shock or something. Maybe you've been in shock all week? That would explain a lot. Some of the others said things like how they're pretty sure you were lobotomised or something based on your more recent text messages. Maybe they're right, because it sure feels like there's a gaping hole somewhere inside of you. It's strange that the bodies outside have a distinct lack of gaping holes, by the way. Not a whole lot of blood, either. Not a whole lot of drones, for that matter, since you can't even see one--if they looked anything like they did in the movies, anyway--unless you counted the glowing, bloodstained troll that looked just like Kanaya if Kanaya would ever be caught dead in such dirty, torn up clothes. If Kanaya dragged trolls from their hives to drain their blood by waning daylight like the rainbow drinkers in those novels she collected just as avidly as you did with your romcoms. She looks up to see you staring, and releases the latest corpse, allowing it to crumple at her feet. Her mouth moves, but she's too far away to hear or lip-read, and maybe she realizes that because she begins her approach, walking straight toward you.

Your respiteblock is on the second floor, but that doesn't slow her down much. She seems to have forgotten the concept of doors, because she just crawls up the exterior wall and smashes through your window. You'd managed to avoid the shower of glass by backing up when you realized her intent, but now you're not sure what to do. Was all of this even really happening? Were you actually just passed out on your keyboard and dreaming up this strange and disturbing scenario where she got to be the dangerous creature of the daylight and you were her swooning pale interest standing between her and indiscriminate mass murder just like in the stories? Was this just you inventing a situation that might possibly result in some semblance of happiness the universe has always sought to deny you?

The glass shards had pierced her skin and now she's bleeding rainbows, blood taken from points all over the spectrum. You can see the same colors saturating her previously solid jade irises, reminding you of your own troubles in hiding your own bright red pair until you simply stopped going outside and disabled viewport chatting last week. Her eyes are focused entirely on them, now, as she pulls herself up from the floor, and she speaks haltingly as though she has to force the words out past the monster she's become.

"I. Found you. I always. Wondered. Why grey. Red. So red. Karkat. Always. Liked red."

Her voice is the same. It's her, right? It's not just your imagination, right? "Kanaya?" you ask, and your voice cracks with emotion and recent disuse while your vision blurs with tears. You want this to be real. Even if she springs forward and drains you dry of every drop of your unnatural color, you want this to be real.

She starts forward, limbs suddenly awkward and moving in strange jerking motions. "Karkat. Please. Stop me."

She's holding herself back, so you go to her. Her face is so cold beneath your hands, and your unprecedented warmth must have shot straight through to whatever was reanimating her corpse because her body suddenly settles and a greater sense of self awareness flashes through her eyes and then you're both falling to your knees, sobbing, and the glass bites into your legs but the pain just means it's real. She's really here and not gone forever, and you can figure out the rest later because right now you just really need to say--

"I'm sorry I never had the shame globes to say how much I loved you while you were still alive."

She presses her forehead against yours and replies, "My final moments were occupied with similar regrets."

PROMPT: TEAM DAVE<3<KARKAT

[makingtriangles]

Southern Gothic + Lovecraftian Horror, Dave <3 Rose

FILL: TEAM DAVE<3ROSE<3TEREZI

[magnificentbastards]

This is such a good prompt. I really hope I've done it justice.

----

You don’t go out with Rose any more. It’s easier. She stays home – you leave her at the kitchen table, bare legs tucked under her chair, knitting a sweater – and you drive to town. The car’s low on gas, the potholes in the road ought to be fixed but won’t be, and when you pull up outside the grocery store the old woman opposite stares at you from her porch like you’d just spat in her eye. You give her a glance as you walk past, acknowledgement, that’s all she gets. Her husband is watching you from the upstairs window; you learn to notice these things.

Someone’s taken your card down from the shop door again, but you brought another with you ('dave strider, all odd jobs, name your price'), so you stick it back up with the others. Today you manage to get the groceries, pay, and leave the shop without saying a word to the owner, which you think might be a record. There’s no one around as you get back in the car.

You kick your shoes off on the front porch and they stir eddies of dust in the dry air. The paint’s peeling off the front door and the wooden slats on either side of it, but inside it’s cooler, and Rose is still at the table. She’s set her knitting to one side.

“I got more tinned shit,” you say, swinging the grocery bag onto the table.

“Thank you, O Great Provider,” she says, and her shoulder is tense when you rest your hand on it. “I think we may be single-handedly responsible for the continued survival of the American tin industry.”

“Wish they’d give us something for it. Like, hey, you filled up your tinned shit loyalty card, congrats. Here’s a working refrigerator. Maybe your apple juice doesn’t have to go in the basement any more. Enjoy the life of luxury.”

She almost smiles.

--

There’s been another outbreak of something – you don’t bother asking any more – and you got a call, so you spend your morning at the Patricks’ farm down the road shooting cows in the head. By the end of it your shoes and the cuffs of your pants are spattered with blood and greenish drool, and there’s no way that’s not gonna stain now. You drive home barefoot, your filthy shoes in the trunk and a bundle of crumpled notes in your pocket, trying not to think at all.

Rose meets you on the porch, looks you over, takes you by the hand and pulls you upstairs. In the shower, under the inconsistent trickle of the water, she pushes you up against the tiled wall, bites her way down your neck, kisses your chest.

You’re muttering encouragements, pushing her wet hair off her face, when she makes a noise like something’s stabbed her in the chest. She tents her nails into your hipbone, sinks to the ground and curls into the corner, and if this wasn’t Rose you’d say her breaths sound more like sobs.

“Fuck,” you say, drop to your knees and wrap your arms around her shoulders. She’s shaking. You can feel her eyelashes against the skin of your throat; the showerhead sputters water that’s suddenly hot enough to scald across your back. None of it hits Rose.

--

The two of you sit next to each other on the porch, Rose with her legs crossed in front of her, watching the light die in bars of pink and grey and blue on the horizon. The trees and the far-off farmsteads and houses stand out black against the sky. You look at her, take in her back perfectly straight, hands clasped in her lap, the shadows under her eyes bringing out the colour of them.

“It feels-” she says, and pauses reflectively, “almost oceanic, in nature. It’s a sense of depth and age and vastness all at once, and certainly it’s dangerous, but I believe it’s benevolent.”

You think of the way her hands trembled for three hours straight this morning, how she started speaking in a language you couldn’t recognise, hunched over the kitchen table, and you had to close all the shutters in case a passing car heard her and hold her until she passed out, exhausted.

“I think I’m gonna have to disagree with you there,” you tell her quietly.

“Well- perhaps non-malevolent would be a more accurate term. I don’t think it’s aware of morality, not in the way we comprehend it. But it doesn’t want me to know any of this. Every time I think too much, every time I question it, even subconsciously—”

She winces, suddenly, the corners of her mouth twitching. You rest a hand on her thigh.

“Easy,” you say.

--

You dream you’re in town and all the buildings are pale and bloated, like they’re made of drowned skin. The dust on the road congeals and clings to your ankles, layer upon layer, thickening to slime that clogs your path. When you try to step forward the buildings strain and burst, and a cascade of pale water pours into the street; visceral, slippery things the size of your head float obscenely through the flood, and you can’t breathe –

When you jerk awake Rose is sitting up against the headboard, staring into nothing.

“Rose,” you say. “Rose.”

When she speaks to you it sounds like her throat is contracting and twisting around the words, or her tongue has split into five tongues and they’re tangling themselves into knots.

“Rose,” you say, desperate. You grab her wrists, kiss her mouth, and she arches her back to press herself against you, biting your lower lip until you can taste blood; you need to keep her here, that’s all, you just need to keep her here with you.

 --

You open your eyes as the early morning sunlight streams, pale and greyish, through the gaps in the shutters. Rose is gone and the bed is cold, but it was cold last night when you were pressed against her, and when you leant into her shoulder her skin was colder still.

You go out front and start the car.

----

PROMPT: TEAM DAVE<3<KARKAT

[makingtriangles]

Historical Fiction + Sea Story, Jane<3Jake<3Roxy<3Dirk

Somebody do this pleeeeease XDD

PROMPT: TEAM ENGLISH

[cerulean_neuf]

Dave <3< Karkat

Disco and Comedy

Re: PROMPT: TEAM ENGLISH

[leetlite]

u v u I hope it's recognizable those are 70es or something, lmfao?

http://img17.imageshack.us/img17/458/davekat.png

Hope you like it!

PROMPT: TEAM DIRK♥JAKE

[yucari]

Rose♥Jade - Lovecraftian horror, Western

PROMPT: TEAM DAVE<3<KARKAT

[makingtriangles]

Science Fiction Robinsonade + Military, Dirk<3<Karkat

PROMPT: TEAM ENGLISH

[cerulean_neuf]

Terezi <> Mayor

Legal Thriller and Cooking

PROMPT: TEAM ERIDAN<3FEFERI

[theseaisagreatplace]

Eridan<3Karkat
Mermaid + Fairy Tale

FILL: Karkat<3Karkat

[doubleohally]

I guarantee this isn't what you wanted from a prompt like that.
Edit: I AM SO SORRY FOR THAT. It was a complete mess I was insane to post it, but I fixed it.

Sirens Song


One day when the sun was going down, young knight, Karkat Vantas was strolling along the beach by the castle. It was his first night at his new station, and like most nights he was having a hard time sleeping. Stay away from the beach, they said, it’s dangerous, they said; he didn’t really see how, he couldn’t swim but it wasn’t like he was going to randomly jump in the middle of the ocean. He was a knight for Gods sake! And they were treating him like a small child whose hand needed held. Their superstitions were nonsense, telling him that wicked creatures roamed the seas; sirens and mermaids—creatures from the pits of hell. If you went near the ocean, they sang songs and lured you in, they’d eat you, or so he was told, or maybe even turn you into one of them if the monster decided it wanted you.

He believed none of those tails, he wouldn’t be out here if he did, and it appeared someone else was also not terrified by the prospect of evil mermaids. Under the light of the moon he saw someone else perched upon a rock by the ocean and staring out at it. Karkat wandered closer to inspect who it could be; it was someone about his age, and very regal looking. The boy on the rock had hair that was in a strange upward movement with a streak of purple in the middle, and Karkat had never seen the boy before, but he had the weird feeling that he knew him pretty well in a past life or something.

“Hey, what are you doing out here?” When he asked that, the boy turned around almost slipping off the rock, like it was the most surprising thing in the world for someone to be out here—then again according to the locals apparently it was.

“I…just sittin’,” the boy grumbled hunching over, and Karkat can tell he’s defensive, maybe even scared (his knight training tells him so).

Karkat scooted up onto the rock to sit beside of the hunched over boy and stares off at the ocean, eventually the other relaxed a bit, and that’s when he decides to make conversation. “It’s my first night being here, they told me some bullshit about monsters or something.”

The boy didn’t even make a noise for the first few moments, “Maybe you should believve them” His accent was funny to Karkats ear, but not unwelcome.

He shrugged, “No such thing, it’s all stories and fairy tales, anyway…” he looked at the other, “my names Karkat.”

The other smiled at him, suddenly he hadn’t looked so scared, he looked like the most glorious thing in the world, and his smile brighter than the moon. A weird feeling rushed to the pit of Karkats stomach; a mixture of anxiety and need. He swallowed the feeling back.

Every night for the first month Karkat snuck out from his room and went to meet Eridan on the beaches shore, even though he only showed up when there was a moon in the sky. They talked; they danced, gazed out at the ocean, and became very close. Each day when Karkat ventured down to him he felt even more attached than he had previously, and afterwards, when he would go to bed, he’d only feel longing in his heart. After the first month had passed and went away there came a time when Eridan had stopped showing up, but Karkat kept going down to the place they would always meet, and waited there for him until dawn. One day, Karkat had thought, one day he’ll be back, he has to come back; and one day Eridan did come back.

Things picked up where they left off, almost like Eridan had never been gone in the first place, but this time things were different. Every night, Karkats would feel like Eridan was the only thing in the world that mattered. Karkat realized he loved Eridan; he wanted to be with Eridan. “Eridan, where are you during the day?” he asked him finally one night, “how come I only see you under the light of the moon.”

Eridan reached forward and pushed a strand of hair from his face, “I havve a secret, you wwanna hear my secret Kar?”

Karkats heart pounded in his chest, blood rose to his cheeks and he nodded his head slowly. He wasn’t sure what the secret was, but he decided he could handle whatever it was. “I really don’t care what it is fucker, but you can tell me, I guess.”

“Howw about I tell you…a little later,” he gave him that smile again and it became the last straw for Karkat, who leaned in close to capture their lips together. What had started with the kiss, ended as more; if it hadn’t been for his sore body when he had woken up alone, he would have thought it was all a dream.

The next day when he went to see Eridan, the other was fidgety and pacing around in circles—like there was something he was extremely anxious about. “What’s wrong?” he asked him worried, he hoped it wasn’t about the night before (he’d hate for things to be awkward between them).

“It’s about last night,” he said as if voicing Karkats worst fear, “not that I regret it, it wwas just too…too soon. Listen I havven’t been completely honest wwith you.”

Karkat listened to Eridan explain about the myth, and the truth behind it; Karkat had slept with a siren (or a mermaid). He rubbed his head in confusion, not sure what to say. “Okay,” he started, “I really don’t care, you don’t seem vicious or anything.”

He stopped pacing and looked over at him a look of relief across his face before it flashed back to panic. “No, no, no you’re wwrong. I am. See that’s the thing, I wwas supposed to kill you, it’s a puberty type ordeal or somethin’. Go up on shore, lure in some helpless person, eat them,” he rubs his neck awkwardly, “only I didn’t wwanna do that to you…and I’m sort of in big trouble ovver that and so…”

Karkats face paled and his body nearly collapsed, he didn’t want to have to fight or kill Eridan (hell he knew he couldn’t bring himself to do it). Thankfully, Eridan saved him from his worrying by shaking his head and muttering, “I’m not gonna kill you damn it. I havve a choice, my times almost up and then I won’t be able to come back here anymore. I can leavve you be, tell them I ate you...or you could come wwith me?” he asked looking him in the face.

“Come with you?” he asked, he didn’t even have to think about it before nodding; after all Eridan had became his life, there was nothing for him up on land. “I can do that.”

“You realize though, you can’t evver come back up here, not evver Kar. You’ll be stuck there, and the only times you can come on land is wwhen there’s a moon in the sky.”

He still just nodded his head at him, “I don’t care, there’s nothing for me here,” he crossed his arms and kicked at a rock, “You know if you had been anyone else I would have beaten the shit out of you forever ago.”

His face lightened, “Yeah I knoww Kar, come back here tomorroww okay?”

When Karkat made his way down to the beach, he was happy that he could finally be with Eridan, “Hey,” he greeted him, “Do you havve a tail for legs?”

Eridan scoffed at him, “Are you crazy? No wway, couldn’t even use the bathroom like that…you’ll like it,” he walked towards the water a few feet from the shore so that everything but his head is covered in water. He held out his hand to him, “There are big cities, wwe have technology and evverythin’ it’s almost like one of your human cities.”

Karkat stepped forward lowering into the ocean, “So just like that? I’ll be one of you?” he held onto his hand.

“Yeah, wwhen you havve sex wwith one, for the next week if you go into the ocean you’ll turn,” he smiled up at him, “come on Kar let’s go.”

Karkat followed him in, and he never looked back.



Original End:

Karkat stepped forward lowering into the ocean, “So just like that? I’ll be one of you?” he held onto his hand.

“Yeah, wwhen you havve sex wwith one, for the next week if you go into the ocean you’ll turn,” he smiled up at him, “come on Kar let’s go.”

Karkat smiled down at him and began to drop into the water, and suddenly Eridan had no clue what was going on—just that Karkat was slumping over on top of him and there was a gushing wound right through his middle. Eridan held onto him trying to cover the wound frantically, “Eri…dan….I lo…” his eyes closed shut. Eridan sucked in a breath and saw the arrow through him; it’s only then that he noticed there were arrows coming from the shore, he was too wrapped up with the body dying in his arms to notice before.

He takes his body, and he swims back down to his city. Like hell he’ll leave his lovers body to be mutilated by those human scum, he fucking hated humans.

PROMPT: TEAM DIRK<3JAKE<3JANE<3ROXY

[veira]

John<>Jade

sea story + detective fiction

FILL: TEAM JADE<3KANAYA<3ROSE

[mirroreuler]

Jade closed the tavern door with a sigh, walking forward to stand beside John at the edge of the cliff.

“Anything?” John asked, looking over his sister carefully. The morning sun lit up her golden skin beautifully, shining highlights of white in her black hair. But her eyes were steely behind her glasses.

“Not much. They did see him, obviously, but that was a few weeks ago.” Jade fiddled with the sleeves of her dress, lips pursed “I suppose we can't just go after him, can we?”

John shook his head. “Well...we could, if we didn't mind starving to death soon? I don't know about you, but I am not particularly keen on that!”

Finally Jade smiled, shaking her head. “Such a coward. Real men would be willing to take the risk!” But then her expression hardened once more. “They said something else, too, about a woman all in white. I can't figure out out if she's on our side or not, through... He certainly seems to care a great deal for her, anyway.”

“Is that so?”

Jade glanced at John, and then, with sadness, out to the sea again. “Sorry. Am I -”

“No. It's fine.” John breathed in deeply, stepping forward to brush at Jade's hand. Although he dearly wished to hug her now, as always, he dared not be more forward in public so. Jade jumped. “But...there's no need to worry. We have the trail, and now with Vriska's support-”

“I still don't trust her,” Jade muttered, and John frowned.

“I know. But there's no point in turning down help right now. And with Karkat and Princess Peixes and Lady Lalonde-”

“I know, I know.” Jade turned to him seriously, letting him take her hand. “But we spend so long on the ship with nothing to do but sail, and then when we reach land and can actually do something – it doesn't last very long. And then we're back to waiting again – always waiting and searching...”

“You can do it.” John squeezed her hand, smiling. “We can do it.”

Slowly, Jade smiled back, and while her beautiful face was marred with a grimace, John knew deep down that this smile, at least, was the most honest one she could wear at present.

She looked back at the sea, her long hair blowing in the breeze. For a long time she was quiet.

Finally, she spoke.

“What do you think we'll do when we catch him? When we defeat him? What then?”

John bit his lip, thinking carefully. “I guess we'll just have to keep sailing, won't we?”

A quiet giggle, and then Jade squeezed his hand again.

PROMPT: TEAM JADE<3JOHN<3KARKAT

[inkysquid]

Slice of Life + Paranormal Romance

Dirk<3Jane<3Jake<3Roxy

FILL: TEAM EQUIUS<3TAVROS

[cygna_hime]

Dirk leaned against the doorbell as though this would magically produce results hitherto unapparent. Unsurprisingly, it didn't.

"Jane Crocker," he said to the locked door, "I realize the whole entering residences issue is something of a sensitive subject, but if you don't let me in right fucking now I'm taking all the groceries and dumping them down the stairwell, and it will all be your fault."

In a sparkle of fuschia, the latch clicked open, the chain rattled in its slot, and the doorknob turned. Dirk bumped the door open with his hip.

They were still in the living room, still watching a move - some kind of nature documentary, so Jake was about to get the munchies, if past experience was any indication.

The door shut and locked itself again once he was inside. "Thank you, Roxy," Dirk said, on his way past the couch to the kitchen. "At least someone around here understands the vital importance of opening the fucking door so your innocent victim can wander wide-eyed into your lair. What kind of grim seductress of the night are you, anyway?" This last was directed at Jane, who, to do her credit, did finally lever herself up from the couch to come give him a hand with the groceries. It was as though she thought he would put everything away in some arcane order known only to himself if left to his own devices. In this she was perfectly correct.

"The innocent victim place delivers now?" Jake called without moving from his central position on the couch. "Golly, Dirk, you could've let the poor chap in! It's just rude to leave the food sitting out too long."

Dirk gave him what would be a speaking look if he weren't wearing his glasses. Jake could probably smell the skepticism anyway.

Jane lifted the heaviest of the grocery bags out of his arms effortlessly. It was enough to give a less self-assured guy a complex. "Looks like someone decided to splurge. What did you get?"

"Two for one sale on orange soda," he said. Jane made a face as she pulled the bottles out of the bag. "...And some comfort food for you," he added, deliberately belated.

"Oooh!" Jane clutched the blood pudding to her chest with what one might call inappropriate enthusiasm. "Excellent choice, Mister Strider! I think I like you best!"

"You always like me best."

"Lies!" called Roxy from the living room. "Lies and vile calumnies! You like me best, don't you, Janey-cakes?"

"I refuse to answer on the grounds that it may incriminate me."

"Wow, rude!"

The groceries duly put away according to Jane's extremely categorical system, Dirk slid into place on the couch. Jake scratched the back of his head. "Nicely efficient on the shopping! Broke your old speed record, I do believe."

"Just because you like being scratched behind the ears doesn't mean that everyone does," Dirk pointed out irrelevantly, though he didn't move Jake's hand. He quite liked the feeling, really, but if he didn't complain, then Jake might not know he still appreciated it.

Jane came back and saw him sitting in her spot. "I don't think you're my favorite anymore," she said.

"Alas, so fickle," replied Dirk.

Without further ado, Jane lifted him as easily as the groceries and set him down on her lap.

"Shh!" said Jake. "This is the best part of the whole thing!"

"It's the nature channel," Roxy pointed out.

"But -" Jake gestured wildly at the screen. "The thrill of the chase! The triumph! The primal whatsit!"

"Oh, well, if there's whatsit! Everyone shoosh, Jake wants his whatsit!"

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Dirk said.

Jake swatted him, Roxy cackled witchily, and Jane poked him in the sides. And all was right with the world.

PROMPT: TEAM Dirk<3Equius

[cypher]

Equius <3 Tavros, mythical creatures + curtainfic

FILL: TEAM ERIDAN<>ROSE

[wallwalker]

[This is silly fluff about literal mythical creatures (i.e. these two as mythical creatures,) so I hope it's okay!]

Both of them were exiles from their own races.

The minotaur was cast out because he was small and gentle and weak; he enjoyed playing games with smaller, weaker creatures, and wanted nothing more but to befriend those who would come to his labyrinth. But minotaurs take too much pride in defending their homes and slaughtering that which would defile them to ever allow him to have even a cavern of his own, and so he was forced to wander the surface, far away from his brothers and sisters.

The centaur was cast from his race because of his gracelessness and his brutish strength, and because he did not fit into their simple and natural lifestyle. For the centaurs were nomads, and he grumbled about lacking a place to lay his head. They took pride in crafting from stones and sticks, and he learned the ways of metalwork and of crafting with fire. They were graceful and slender and beautiful, combining the most elegant traits of human and horse. This one, however, was massively muscled, too strong to draw a bow without breaking it. He was shunned by his fellows, and so he, too, wandered until he could find a place to call home.

It was sheerest chance that the minotaur and the centaur found each other one day, sitting by the side of a clear blue pond, and at first they were hardly inseparable. The minotaur could barely keep up with the centaur's mighty gallops and leaps, and at first the centaur had believed he'd left his would-be companion behind... only to see him, following the lead of a wild dog he'd entranced, or even carried on the back of an enormous roc.

It took the centaur a long time to realize that the strange feeling in his chest that he felt when he saw the small, slender minotaur return to him was happiness. He'd known little joy in the company of others. But the minotaur was happy to be near him, to travel with someone of such great strength who did not use it to rip other living beings to shreds for the sheer joy of it.

And since then the two of them have been inseparable, finding a pleasant cave that opens to the air where they can both feel comfortable, and decorating it with garlands and bunches of dried flowers, and with the centaur's finely wrought ironwork. They have much to teach each other, but both of them are eager for it, and happy for each other's company, for - for the first time in their lives - each of them has found someone who understands.

PROMPT: TEAM Dirk<3Equius

[cypher]

Rose<3Kanaya<3<Vriska, western + mystery

PROMPT: TEAM Dirk<3Equius

[cypher]

Sollux<3Feferi, future noir + hurt/comfort

FILL: TEAM DAVE<3ROSE<3TEREZI

[artillie]

You drag him off of the machine two hours past a normal troll's limits. By all rights, his brains should be dripping out of his ears and his insides should be sloshing like an uncleaned fishbowl.

"Wake up," you say, plucking the wires one by one from the base of his skull. (It hurts less if you do them all at once, he said, the last time this happened. Too bad, you said; this is what you get for making me worried.)

"FF, I was in. I had one more fucking firewall. Firewalls! They were still using firewalls! It was a grubcakewalk!"

You pull out the last one. The connector hisses when it comes into contact with your cold skin. "That's a tuna crap, and you know it."

"More fish puns, they remind me I'm alive. Alive and in pain," Sollux says. You stroke the back of his head and carry him over to the sofa--he's insubstantial in your arms, never mind that he's a full head taller than you--and throw a blanket over his face. "And how do you know?" he adds, muffled.

"Vantas called me," you say. "It was a trap, there was a virus waiting for you on the other end."

"Like I've never gotten one out of my head before."

You set the mug of coffee in his outstretched hand. He is ridiculous, he still has not moved the blanket, it would be adorable if you weren't fully aware that he doesn't have a shred of psionic power left in him, let alone physical strength. "This was a nasty one." You move the blanket down to sit on his chest; he can do the rest himself. "You should be thanking me."

"Thanks," he says.

"Say it like you mean it."

"You know I always mean it."

"I told you this was--"

"Fishy business?"

"Too easy!"

A hovercab passes outside your window and throws quavering shadows over his face. The heights of the capital are always quiet. It reminds the seadwellers up here of the seas they poisoned. Sollux manages to move his elbow, and not much more. "Screw you," he says. "And the seahorse you rode in on?"

"And now it'll be days before I can trout you out and show your friends you're okay. No," you say, putting a hand on his stomach, "don't try to sit up."

"They've got what we're looking for, though." There's a shrug in Sollux's voice, even if he can't move his shoulders--a resignation unique to psionics in general and yellowbloods in particular. You have possibly never pitied someone so much in your life, and your life has been very long.

"I'd tell you not to put yourself in danger, but you wouldn't listen," you say. "I'm not spoonfeeding you dinner, by the way! So get better fast."

[wallwalker]

Found Poetry + Epic Romance, Feferi<3Sollux.

(Extra love if you use lyrics from Honey by SPG in the poem.)

FILL: TEAM GAMZEE<>KARKAT

[rex]

every hunter and forager, every hero and coward,
every young couple in love,
everyone you love, everyone you know
confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines
To my mind, there is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of conceits

well I
creator and destroyer of civilization
was waiting for you all my life

the staggering ship
I've kissed
in glory and in triumph

(at your command?)



"superstar,"
"supreme leader,"
turpentine erase
out their lives

for us, it's different.



to me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly and compassionately with one another!

Castor, heir of
toil and dread
and
my honey-bee!
Your grin's the sweetest that I've ever seen

That's home. That's us. On
a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena
every young couple in love
(you didn't have to say my name
but you did. yes, you did!)

But what do I know?
the sailors tremblingly
are raging, and
with prayer and

I let myself go



waiting for you
a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark.
scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner
in the universe
plough the quiet sea in safe delight.
It's been said that astronomy is a humbling, and I might add, a character-building experience.

there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. It is up to us.
Castor,
my honey-bee!
haunt me!
strew the waves
o’er the savage sea
set me free!


Sources:
Pale Blue Dot
Homer's Hymn To Castor And Pollux
Honeybee

Assuming that by "epic romance" you wanted the reincarnation! love! death! rescue from beyond death! sort, not... proposing in public or something, haha.