hs_olympics | BONUS ROUND 1

Entry tags:

bonus round

BONUS ROUND 1

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

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.

Look through the prompts and fill whichever you like!

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

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.

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.

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!

Page 31 of 146

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Magic realisim and lab lit for Rose<3Eridan.

Gamzee <3 Equius

Black Comedy + Found Poetry

John<3Karkat, inspirational sports movie + rom com

(Did someone say SHAMELESS FLUFF? No? Oops.)

---

It’ll Be An Adventure

Dirk can’t say no to that face. Dirk Strider, the one they call Broadsword, the name carried across the waves as the most fearful pirate this side of the Pacific, is constantly floored by the look on his first mate’s face.

“Jake, really?”

He’s put down his flagon of ale in disgust, staring across the table at Jake. Jake looks so earnest too, gripping his little scrap of paper. Pathetic.

“Jake,” Dirk says again, harsher this time, “you know that’s not a real map, don’t you?”

“Come on, old chap!” Jake says, laying out the map on the table for the fifth time. “Just take a gander at it! Surely you can see the worth in this?”

Dirk stares blankly at it. It is, quite literally, some scribbling on a worn out bit of parchment. “Jake. You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious!”

My god, he is.

Dirk decides then and there that he’s not going to let himself fall victim to Jake’s good looks and easy charm, not this time.

“Look, Jake, we can’t afford to make a detour. You know we have to get the cargo to Crocker before sundown on Friday.”

Jake’s face falls, and it’s like a stab to the heart. Dirk allows the knife to twist within him – he deserves it for being such a bastard to Jake. But this time it’s business first. He stands up and grabs the map before Jake can protest. As he storms off to the sleeping quarters, Jake calls out after him.

“Dirk! It’ll be an adventure!”

Dirk ignores him and shuts the door to his cabin with a clash that echoes back down into the galley where Jake is still sitting, probably mourning the loss of his map.

He regrets it the moment the door is closed. He’s acting like the worst sort of adolescent – the kind his brother told him never to become. Dirk had kept up that visage of composure his whole life, and Jake was the only person who had ever managed to peel it back and make Dirk feel like an immature, spoiled brat. Lord Jake English, the unlikely recruit from the upper echelons of society with nerves of steel and a spirit of adventure like no other.

Dirk flops down on his bunk and throws the map down to the side. It floats benignly to the floor, swaying in time with the gentle bobbing of the boat. He’s getting a headache. He just wants to pretend that nothing is happening. That he has no duties and that the boat will steer itself.

There’s a knock on his door, which comes as something of a surprise. He didn’t expect Jake to be there so soon.

“Dirk Strider,” he says, “come out and talk to me this instant!”

“Fuck off and polish your sword,” Dirk snaps.

Jake bangs on the door. “Jesus christ on a sinking frigate, you are incorrigible! I just want to talk!”

“There's nothing to fucking talk about! I’m sick of you and your endless quest for excitement, Jake.”

“Oh you did not just say that!” Jake yelled. “I’ve had it with your nonsense, Strider! All I have ever done is make suggestions, most of which have turned out to be good ones. You owe me a lot!”

Dirk jumps up from his bunk and flings open the door, standing face to face with Jake, looking angrier than he’d ever seen him. “Not. Everything. Has. To. Be. An. ADVENTURE!”

Jake shoves him forward into his cabin and shuts the door behind them. He kisses Dirk.

Hard.

Dirk stumbles backwards and allows Jake to push him onto the bed. He was not expecting that.

Although perhaps after a five-year relationship, he should have been.

“You are without a single doubt, Strider, the worst captain I have ever had the misfortune to serve under.”

“And the only,” Dirk corrects him, running a hand through his lover's hair and kissing him lightly.

“So how about we pick that map up off the floor and take a bit of a different route than we had planned?”

And, god damn it, it’s that face again, and Dirk can’t say no.

The most fearsome pirate captain in the land, conquered once again.

Would it be possible to see the magical girl genre mixed with horror for John <3 Karkat? huhuhu. >3>

Karkat<>Gamzee
Daemons (as in His Dark Materials) + Urban Fantasy

fable + dystopian Aradia<>Tavros

Nepeta<>Equius

Fable + Reincarnation/Past Lives

I am actually making happy noises out loud.

adventure + political satire Signless<3Psiionic<3Disciple?

Aaaah, thank you so much! It's so adorable!! <3

yissssssssssssssssssss oh this is amazing. The blends of the two genres is spectacularly done, the play on the genre's tropes is exhilarating, and the characters still make sense. And I'd read 5'000 words of that easy. *_* *squeeeeeeee*

Equius<3/<3<(don't care)Vriska

political satire + rom com

Eridan<>Rose, Regency + murder story.

Gamzee<>Karkat; dom com + supernatural horror

Aradia<>Sollux, paranormal romance + slice of life

(I guess you can consider this Humanstuck, although I'm not entirely sure myself. It's 1:37 AM and this got away from me. A highly anachronistic and probably hideously OOC road trip romp with a fair smattering of coarse language. Enjoy!)

It Is Midday

It is five in the morning, which, by royal decree, should be deemed “No Reasonable Hour For A Prince To Even Consider Being Awake”. Prince Ampora of the Kingdom of Derse is one such Prince who would sooner sit in a carriage that’s fallen off-road into a ditch and make sweet love to the Court Mage than even consider being awake at five in the morning.

However, it is in fact five in the morning, and sooner or later Prince Ampora will realise that he is not in fact in a ditch making sweet love to the Court Mage, but lying in his four-poster five-mattress bed being shaken awake by his manservant, who is by this point rather infuriated by his master’s inability to rouse himself from this seemingly-enchanted slumber.

Stopping short of saying “Kindly get the fuck up, Master Ampora”, the faceless manservant resorts to muffling his mouth with a cloth to disguise his voice and shouting “FIRE IN THE WALK-IN WARDROBE!” That got the Prince sitting bolt upright.

“WHAT,” he yelps, usually-impeccable hair in disarray.

“Ah good, Sir, you’re awake.” The manservant smiles serenely. “You are aware you’ll have to extricate yourself from bed for your trip to Prospit today?”

“How could I forget,” the Prince deadpans, throwing off his sheets so that they land atop the manservant’s head.

---

It is six in the morning, and the Right Honourable Prince Eridan Ampora of the Kingdom of Derse, PhD, is not at all happy to be awake. After a suitably royal breakfast and a thorough debriefing from his father the King, he is standing in the cold outside the extravagant royal palace waiting for the Knight from Prospit who will be escorting himself and the Court Mage to Prospit, where he is to be betrothed to the Princess or something.

The details are all a bit hazy.

But to make this whole excursion worthwhile, naturally the Prince’s self-proclaimed Arch Rival In Everything But Especially The Act Of Living Itself is to be his other escort, along with the Prospitian Knight. This is Sollux Captor, the Court Mage, who is roughly the same age as the Prince and was once deemed to be a suitable childhood companion to his royal self.

What a joke that had turned out to be.

After the two boys did nothing but fight, Eridan’s supernanny had revoked young Captor’s Princely Companion License, and he had been replaced by the heir to the Zahhak fortune, a young boy named Equius with an unhealthy fondness (possibly fuelled by nominative predetermination) for our equine companions. In that sense, Eridan was glad that it was Captor rather than Zahhak joining him on the journey. At least Captor wouldn’t spend the entire trip salivating over the winged hoofbeasts that were to be guiding the carriage.

At last the carriage pulls up with a surly-looking Knight at the reins, and Captor emerges from the shadows in a rather mage-like ominous manner.

Eridan wants to slap him.

---

It is seven in the morning, and of course Captor and the Knight Karkat Vantas are getting on like a small village full of innocents on fire. Of course.

Prince Eridan is sitting with his arms crossed, staring out the window at the blur of the countryside as the carriage speeds past small villages full of innocents that he is rather inclined to want to burn to the ground at this very moment. Curse the restrictive legal system.

The insufferable Mage slips back into the carriage from his position up front with Vantas and sticks his legs up on the seat, leaning back like he has not a care in the world, the conceited arse. “How’re you coping back here, Prince?” he asks cheerfully, and fuck, he still has that dumb lisp that he’s always had.

It would not be so annoying if Prince Eridan did not find it so incredibly sexy.

“I’m coping fantastically, thank you,” Eridan snaps back, straightening up and uncrossing his arms.

“Looking forward to meeting Marquise Serket?”

Oh, yes, that was the name of the broad he’s meant to be marrying. “She should be looking forward to meeting me,” he said gruffly, straightening his spectacles.

“Right,” Captor says.

“Do I detect a hint of cynicism in your voice, peasant?”

“None at all, Your Highness.”

---

It is eight in the morning and Knight Vantas has insisted that they make a stopover in a small town populated almost entirely by salamanders, because the horses are tired. It is only when he steps gracefully down from the carriage that Eridan realises just how short the Knight is. He comes up no higher than Eridan’s shoulder.

He also swears like a common troubadour.

“Is there no fucking way we can get some fucking food in this shitheap of a town? Is it that much of a stagnant hole in the dirt? Fuck, we’re in fucking bilgewater scum county. It reeks of horseshit. Fuck. I can’t stay here much longer.”

“It was your idea to take a break,” Captor points out.

“I know it was my idea, but past me is a fucking idiot,” Vantas screeches, this close to tearing out his hair.

“Both of you need to calm yourselves,” Eridan interjected. “I realise that neither of you are of the same noble temperament as I, but if we are to retain our good spirits—”

“Kindly shut the fuck up, Your Highness,” Captor interjects. “I don’t need two noble pricks in foul moods to lighten my spirits.”

Eridan has never been more aroused in his life.

---

It is nine in the morning and the lone carriage in the Borderlands is making good time. If they’re lucky, they’ll make Prospit’s capital by ten and Eridan can get the dumb meeting with the dumb girl he’s meant to be marrying over and done with and then everyone can go home and shut the fuck up.

Naturally Vantas is still whining to Captor. Eridan tries to block out the noise by drumming his feet on the floor of the carriage, but all it’s doing is making him dizzy.

Vantas is on the verge of his five millionth “and another thing...” when there is a great shudder as the carriage hits an obstacle in the road. In the space of a few seconds Vantas loses control of the horses and they break apart from the carriage, rushing off of their own accord. The carriage upends and spins sideways into a ditch by the side of the road.

Fucking brilliant, Eridan thinks to himself as he is squashed against the wall of the carriage in a position that not even the greatest court contortionists could ever manage. He can hear Captor and Vantas arguing outside.

“Christ, Vantas, just let me come with you to find the horses! His Royal Dickprince can take care of himself!”

“What part of the King will have you flogged for leaving him and the carriage unguarded do you not understand, fuckmunch? Fuck, he’ll have me flogged too! Just do me a fucking favour; stay here and look after that shit-for-brains, else he’ll accidentally get himself killed left all on his lonesome.”

A few more harsh words are exchanged before Eridan hears the sound of Vantas’s heavy boots moving off into the distance, and the door at the other side of the carriage, directly above him, opens up. In something of a role reversal, Captor looks down on him scornfully.

“Looks like I’m stuck with you, Your Highness.”

---

It is ten in the morning and “I Spy” is starting to get boring. Eridan has refused to attempt to leave the carriage, preferring to wait until Vantas returns with the winged horses to lift them out of the ditch. Captor is starting to worry – he’s almost been gone an hour.

“I spy with my royal eye, something beginning wiiiiiith... C.”

“I swear in the name of all that is holy, Erida— Prince Ampora, if this is ‘carriage’ again I will personally see to your removal from the face of this planet.”

“Yeah well, you’re the Court Mage, why couldn’t you just remove this carriage from the face of this ditch?”

“If I have to tell you aga— my powers don’t work like that! Your fucking Highness!”

Eridan pouted, flicking the floor of the carriage, which was now oriented more like a wall. “I’m bored. Can you use your powers to tell me when Vantas will return?”

“Fucking no, stop fucking asking!”

Eridan is suddenly acutely aware of how cramped this sideways carriage is, and how attractive Captor is when he’s angry.

“Well then, I don’t suppose you can think of any other way to pass the time than ‘I Spy’?” he asks.

They spend a few minutes just staring at each other in silence before they can mutually agree on a much more productive way of waiting.

---

It is eleven in the morning and after Karkat Vantas has unsuccessfully tried to tear out his own eyes for the unspeakable horrors witnessed in the carriage, they are finally on the move and headed for Prospit once more.

The tension in the carriage is such that you could cut it with a knife. Sollux Captor and Prince Eridan Ampora are sitting on absolute opposite ends of the compartment and looking absolutely everywhere but at one another.

Eridan is hoping that he’s suitably rearranged his hair for his meeting with Marquise Serket. Although, there’s a part of him that doesn’t want her to be interested in him. Not after... that. He doesn’t think he could ever be interested in another. His eyes have been opened. No longer will he be yelling at his heinously insubordinate Court Mage for a myriad misdemeanours.

Sollux is wondering what the hell just happened and why the hell he got so much enjoyment from it.

---

It is midday and Prince Eridan Ampora is standing flanked by his Mage and Knight, facing Marquise Vriska Serket, who has a metal arm that looks like it could rip his bollocks off if she so desired.

“Well,” she says, surveying him, unsure whether or not she likes what she sees, “a match between us would certainly be advantageous to our two nations. As you surely know, I’m a pretty major player in Prospitian politics.”

“I had no idea,” Eridan says vaguely.

“You flatter me,” she says, making it sound like a threat.

They are soon left alone to “get to know one another”. Eridan decides he rather likes her – she’s a bitch, that’s for sure, and he can appreciate that. After all, he’s been informed by numerous people on numerous occasions that he, too, is a bitch.

But he can’t marry her.

Not after... that.

As he contemplates his inevitable future, he decides he would much sooner sit in a carriage that’s fallen off-road into a ditch and make sweet love to the Court Mage than even consider marrying this upstanding member of the Prospitian community. He makes a mental note to ask Vantas not to take them back to Derse that evening.

Dirk<>Jane, high fantasy + coming of age

Ahh, little Meenah is so ferocious looking! I love it! <3

Romantic Comedy + Musical - Dave<3Karkat

Eridan <3 Karkat, romcom holiday fluff and futuristic utopian society.

Fill in progress, hun!

It was supposed to be her introduction to the world as the next head of the Crocker cooking empire. The Jane Crocker Cooking Hour, shot from a carefully secured bunker to ensure that no assassin could snatch up the chance to kill the Crocker heir on live TV, during which she'd prove her gumption by walking through world through all the steps in making a delicious meal, topped off with a sumptuous cake with a Crocker-brand box mix as the base its recipe was built from. She was ready and she knew it, as long as her viewers correctly followed her instructions they'd end up with dishes that would prove with the first nibble that she had what it took to take over.

Unfortunately, instead of just trusting in that certainty that everything would turn out well she'd decided that she wanted a little moral support. Even more unfortunately, after choosing Roxy to bring to the studio with her she hadn't thought to remove the cooking sherry, or wine, or rum extract from the kitchen. They were hardly ten minutes into filming before Jane realized her mistake when Roxy began drunkenly caterwauling in a voice that couldn't be considered music to anyone's ear.

Jane steeled herself and continued on, even as Roxy sang along with everything she did. She managed to hardly falter in completing her appetizers, even when she'd needed to quickly move her cutting board and ingredients to the counter beside the stove because Roxy had decided to jump on the table she'd been using to prep her ingredients and do a solo can-can, and stalwartly moved onto her first side dish.

"If you can, try to get really fresh sugar snap peas," she said, keeping her voice just as bright and friendly as it had been to start with, though her face was starting to ache with the strain of keeping a bright smile on it in the circumstances. She wished that she could make a quick dash for her disguise kit; if she could just dig out a mustache shaggy enough to cover her lips then nobody would ever know if she let the smile drop. "That crispness adds a great texture to the dish that you lose out on if they've gone limp, and besides they hardly deserve to be called snap peas if they don't do this!" She raised a pea close enough to her mic for the audience to pick up the sound when she broke it in half, snap!

"Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan you taste the love tonight?" Roxy wailed behind her, only just too late to cover the sound of Jane's pea. "The peas the side dish brings?"

Jane really honestly was trying to keep her attention on the show and not engage Roxy in her tomfoolery, but... "That one's not even from a real musical, Roxy, it's from a cartoon." And it was, she supposed, a very good thing that the company had bought out Disney decades back in order to, if Roxy and Dirk were to be believed, effectively spread their subliminal messages to children at an earlier age. Otherwise The House of the Mouse would probably already be preparing lawyers to dump on their doorstep for using the song without paying royalties on it, even with the lyrics mangled.

"Jaaaaaney," Roxy cooed, which at least meant that for one moment she wasn't singing. "Janey, can't you taste the love? I can taste it, Janey."

"Does it taste like rum extract? Because I already told you that really isn't for drinking, Ro--"

And she'd obviously gotten too used to Roxy drunkenly hanging all over her in private, whatever sense of personal space she'd ever had vanishing with each drink she consumed, or she would have had the sense to back away when Roxy suddenly stumbled towards her, or maybe it was her attempt at a lunge, and suddenly shoved her tongue in Jane's mouth.

Oh dear, Jane thought. If the show was going to turn into The Crocker Heir unexpectedly coming out live on national television she wished it could have at least happened with a good kiss instead of the sloppy licky mess which was the best Roxy could currently manage. "Taste the love," she slurred again before bursting into song once more, "On her shooooow, preparing her snap side peas--"

And this time Jane was the one doing the cutting off, covering Roxy's mouth with her hand and keeping it there even when Roxy oh-so-maturely chose to react by licking her palm. "Hey, not that one," she said, trying to keep her voice low enough to be private even if she wasn't sure that was actually possible while wearing a body mic. "If you're going to keep using my show as an excuse to keep mangling showtunes, at least don't pick ones which are unrequited." Then she turned back to the camera, her Company Heir smile firmly in place, and added for the sake of the audience, "And I hope that all our viewers at home are learning an important lesson about not drinking things that are meant for cooking!"

Wow, this is so wonderful! Ahh, guh, they're both so perfect in just the short bit you portrayed them in! Thank you!

Ooh, I'll be looking forward to it!

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 31 of 146

BONUS ROUND 1

Bonus Round 1

PROMPT: TEAM KANAYA<>KARKAT

PROMPT: TEAM Eridan <3 Roxy

PROMPT: TEAM DAVE<3TEREZI

FILL: TEAM DAVE<3TEREZI

PROMPT: TEAM KANAYA<3VRISKA.

PROMPT: TEAM ERIDAN<>ROSE

PROMPT: TEAM KARKAT<3SOLLUX

PROMPT: TEAM Eridan <3 Roxy

Re: FILL: TEAM DIRK<3JAKE<3JANE<3ROXY

PROMPT: TEAM KARKAT<3SOLLUX

Re: FILL: TEAM TEREZI<3VRISKA

Re: FILL: TEAM TEREZI >3> VRISKA

PROMPT: TEAM Eridan <3 Roxy

PROMPT: TEAM PARCELPYXIS

PROMPT: TEAM JADE<3KANAYA<3ROSE

PROMPT: TEAM KARKAT<3KARKAT

FILL: TEAM DAVE<3TEREZI

PROMPT: TEAM KARKAT<3KARKAT

Re: FILL: TEAM JADE<3KANAYA<3ROSE

PROMPT: TEAM JOHN<3DAD

PROMPT: TEAM TEREZI<3SOLLUX

Re: PROMPT: TEAM DAVE<3ROSE<3TEREZI

FILL: TEAM Aradia<3Equius

Re: FILL: TEAM [Dave<3<Karkat]

no subject