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sportsanime2016-07-21 08:53 pm
referees) wrote in sportsanime2016-07-21 08:53 pm
Entry tags:
Bonus Round 5: Myth & Lore
This round is CLOSED as of 7PM on August 4 EDT. Late fills may be posted, but they will not receive points.
RULES
- This round does not have prompts. Instead, we ask you to draw inspiration from the wide pool of mythology, fantasy, folklore, and fable. An urban fantasy or supernatural AU? A re-imagining of your favorite folk tale? Characters swapping ghost stories or playing D&D? As long as your fill in some way incorporates the fantastical and/or supernatural, it's welcome here.
- Your fill still has to be about a ship from one of our nominated fandoms. What ships you create work for is up to you, though.
- To submit your fill, simply leave it as a comment as a reply to this post.
- Remember to follow the general bonus round rules, outlined here.
FORMAT
Bonus round shenanigans all happen in the comments below. Brand-new works only, please.Required Work Minimums:
- 400 words (prose)
- 400px by 400px (art)
- 14 lines (poetry)
Remember, this is a NO-PROMPT round. Format your fill comment in one of the following ways:
| If FILLING: | If FILLING as a TEAM GRANDSTAND participant: |
FILL: TEAM [YOUR SHIP], [RATING]
| FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, [RATING]
|
Posts not using this format will be understood to be unofficial discussion posts, regardless of what they contain. They, like all comments in this community, are subject to the code of conduct.
SCORING
These numbers apply to your team as a whole, not each individual teammate. Make as many fills as you want!For fills:
First 3 fills by any member of your team: 20 points each
Fills 4-10: 10 points each
Fills 11-20: 5 points each
Fills 21+: 2 points each
All scored content must be created new for this round.
Etc.
If you're hunting through the prompts looking for what to fill, a good trick is to view top-level comments only.Have a question? Check The FAQ first. If you still need help, feel free to contact the mods. Happy fanworking!
FILL: Team Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, M
Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutaro, side kuroken, Haikyuu!!
Tokyo Ghoul AU
(it's a miracle my sinful hands haven't written more of these at 3 am, scent marking is Relevant To My Interests)----------------------
Akaashi inhaled fresh air and held it for a long moment.
Hot pavement, the salt of sweat, rubber soles of sneakers, freshly cut grass, car exhaust from the parking lot, meat charring in the kitchens.
Today's training was finally over, but there were days to go before the camp was complete. He exhaled slowly, and wiped beads of sweat from his brow. He came outside the gym to clear his overloaded senses. Attending the training camp had been a miscalculation on his part. He thought himself naïve to risk so much over a childish game.
No, he was still in control. He could handle this. It was just volleyball, same as always.
Breathe in, hold it, count to twenty.
Akaashi was still too warm. His pulse thrummed just beneath his skin, fluttering at his wrists where he could feel it, pooling heat around his shoulder blades.
Exhale slowly, then inhale again.
He needed to get away before the meal started. He needed to get away from –
"Hey hey, Akaashi! Going for a walk? I'll come with you!"
A sweaty hand clamped firmly down on his shoulder. Akaashi shrugged aside Bokuto's casual touch, but not before his staggeringly powerful scent crashed over him. A rush of fierce heat coiled deep in his belly in response. He disguised his gasp with a polite cough, head swimming in musky overtones, oak and earth and a hint of something spicy on his palate – cinnamon? Clove? His body odor was poorly masked with commercial deodorant, the chemical scent of which mercifully acted as a bitter repellant on his tongue.
"Bokuto-san," Akaashi snapped, a little more curt than he intended. "I came outside for peace and quiet. Perhaps you can bother Kuroo-san right now."
"But Aka-aa-ashi," Bokuto whined, dragging out the syllables in his name. "Kuroo's playing with Kenma and it's not time for dinner yet. I'm hungry."
Same, Akaashi's mind supplied darkly. His fingers twitched at his sides, and he quickly stuffed them into his pockets and began walking away. Bokuto trailed eagerly after him, undeterred by his seeming apathy.
Bokuto was warmth personified, he was a sunny smile and a booming voice and eyes of molten gold, a larger than life presence that filled the room and drew all eyes to him. Some eyes lingered longer than they were supposed to. Some eyes just couldn't stop staring from the shadows.
Eyes like Kuroo's, Kenma's, Tsukishima's, and his.
It was a mistake to come to training camp where there were other ghouls like him masquerading as normal high school boys. They were all suppressing the flash of their kakugan when they got too excited over a good spike, faking their enthusiasm over putrid meals they couldn't digest, making awkward eye contact with each other across the court because they all knew each other's deadly secret and had to pretend they didn't.
It would have been a mistake to not go to camp, though – with the way Bokuto attracted trouble like a magnet without ever realizing the danger he was in. How could one human unwittingly spend so much of his time around ghouls and remain unscathed?
Akaashi didn't leave it up to chance: he had leverage over the mated pair, at least. Kuroo wouldn't harm Bokuto so long as Akaashi stayed away from Kenma. Mutually assured destruction was a good title for the knife's edge trust he shared with Nekoma, though he didn't dislike them, personally. He hoped it never came to that.
(He was wary of Tsukishima, though. He had not yet pinpointed the Karasuno ghoul's weakness. And his persistent scent kept rankling Akaashi's ingrained desire to mark and possess, the ghoulish instinct to claim Bokuto as his territory before a rival could take him away.)
He shook his head, realizing he was spacing out in front of Bokuto. They were walking along the field, Bokuto chattering animatedly, waving his hands to exaggerate whatever story he'd launched into. It was very distracting to have him so close, to catch whiffs of cinnamon spice every time the wind shifted direction. The cheap deodorant was already waning, and Akaashi resisted his wild urge to inhale deeply, knowing full the effect Bokuto's scent had on his treacherous body.
He watched instead, although that too proved dangerous. Bokuto held a lot of power in his broad frame for one so painfully human. He was scant centimeters taller than Akaashi but significantly heavier, corded with muscle thickest in his shoulders, arms, thighs. Pheromones were going to be the death of him, Akaashi decided grimly. He'd never make it to the end of training camp.
Dark eyes lingered on the tantalizing sliver of bare skin between Bokuto's gym shorts and his over-long kneepads, and god, did he want to eat him or mate him?
Both, both, devour him whole, answered the frisson of heat down his spine. Bokuto turned to face him with that sunny smile, and Akaashi's last vestige of control snapped.
The ghoul lunged.
His pulse roared in his ears as he shoved Bokuto to the ground faster than his eyes could follow, fingers digging into the meat of Bokuto's biceps as he straddled his lap. The sclera of his eyes bled dark, irises flashing a predatory red. They caught the sun's dying light and shone with the preternatural glow of tapetum lucidum as Akaashi stared him down.
Bokuto's jaw gaped open in shock, spluttering on syllables he couldn't quite spit out in the right order.
"Ah – wha-?! Aka, you, I mean-! How are you stronger than me?!"
Akaashi huffed a mirthless laugh, because of course that's the detail Bokuto would latch onto, not that his underclassman was a monster in human shape pinning him to the ground. The fool had no sense of danger.
He tried to pull back, he really did, but the scent was irresistible, and his eager body refused to comply now that they were alone. Akaashi had officially lost control. His teeth nipped bruises, tongue darting out to taste the salt beading on bare skin, and Bokuto could no longer stifle a loud moan. The wing spiker's hands moved automatically to grasp at his back for support.
Akaashi gasped as his kakuhou finally burst under the touch and spilled blood red from above his shoulder blades. His ukaku crystallized into wings that blazed redder than the sunset.
They both stilled.
Akaashi's fingers twisted in Bokuto's shoulders. He was panting with the effort it took not to bite for real, with that jugular pulsing so close to his lips. The other ghouls would smell his kagune a mile away. Would they betray him now?
(Would they come to save Bokuto from him? Did that constitute betrayal, because Akaashi would fight for the right to keep him no matter who saw. Let them try.)
"You have wings, Akaashi…! You're like a beautiful angel," Bokuto blurted in a daze.
"Bokuto-san, you should be afraid of ghouls," Akaashi corrected breathlessly. Black and red eyes narrowed into a skeptical glare.
"But I really like you, Akaashi," Bokuto whined, squirming restlessly beneath his weight. "This means you like me too, right? You must like me a whole lot to show me this," he grinned, gesturing at the fiery wingspan casting them both in flickering red light.
"I do like you a lot," Akaashi murmured.
He buried his face in the crook of Bokuto's neck, rubbing his cheek against bare skin, drowning himself in the musk. He wanted to wear this scent, and he wanted Bokuto to wear his, and every ghoul would smell the way they mingled together and know who Bokuto belonged to. Akaashi inhaled as deeply as he could, and as he shuddered out an exhale, he realized he would sooner starve than eat Bokuto.
"Then I've got nothing to be scared of," Bokuto replied simply, nuzzling back, and how right he was after all.