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sportsanime2016-06-23 08:59 pm
referees) wrote in sportsanime2016-06-23 08:59 pm
Entry tags:
Bonus Round 3: Gift Tags
This round is CLOSED as of 7PM on July 7 EDT. Late fills may be posted, but they will not receive points.
RULES
- Submit prompts as a gift tag in the format below. You can specify the size and a characteristic of the gift, who the sender is, who the recipient is, and a one or two sentence note from the sender to the recipient. Descriptions of the package and the included note don’t have to be explicit, see below.
- Package: medium sized cube, rattles
From: Kageyama Tobio
To: Hinata Shouyou
Note: These will help you get better. - Envelope: manila, 12''x17'', very thick and heavy
From: Tezuka Kunimitsu
To: Kinjou Shingo
Note: Enclosed - Play without regrets! - Your prompt MUST include a relationship. Platonic relationships are indicated by an "&" between the names (e.g., Riko & Momoi). Non-platonic relationships use "/" (e.g., Riko/Momoi). Please don't say "Any pairing," either.
- Fill prompts by leaving a responding comment to the prompt with your newly-created work. Fillers can get creative with how to interpret the prompt: your fill can be about the character receiving the gift, one or both characters using the gift, what prompted the sender to send the gift—the physical gift itself can even be excluded from your fill. What’s important is that the gift tag is clearly the inspiration for your fill.
- 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)
Format your comment in one of the following ways:
| If PROMPTING: | If FILLING: | If FILLING as a TEAM GRANDSTAND participant: |
PROMPT: TEAM [YOUR SHIP]
| 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 prompts/fills as you want!For prompts: 5 points each (maximum of 50 prompt points per team per round)
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 Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, T
Word count: 2335
((I'm pretty sure this is the same fic that everyone else who's ever written an oikawa centred pacific rim au has done but. here. take it anyway.))
Oikawa reads the sticky note on the folder with distaste. He knows it's time, it's hard not to when the eyes on him walking through the cafeteria have turned from sad and pitying to disapproving, but Hajime always called him selfish and he's not inclined to give that up now he's gone.
Sometimes, when it's quiet and only the navigation strips are lit, he can feel him inside his mind. The last traces of his grouchy, stubborn, wonderful partner, living on in the mind of the person he loved and hated more than anyone.
He crumples the note into the smallest ball he can manage and lobs it into the waste chute, then slings the folder off to one side, slumping back into his bunk and covering his eyes with his arm. He has no intention of opening his mind to some young upstart, and that's where the testing will lead. Oikawa Tooru: compatible with everyone, the most promising pilot of his training group. Bile rises in his throat.
He swallows, and begins counting his breaths to distract his thoughts away from where he knows they will gravitate if left unchecked.
He must fall asleep at some point, because he wakes to someone clearing their throat.
"It's not polite to wake a hero," he says, without removing his arm from over his eyes.
There's a rustle, and then his visitor speaks. "Oikawa-san."
When he doesn't offer anything further, Oikawa reluctantly sits up and inspects the intruder. He's bowing, his back at a rigid angle and his fists clenched. His partner-to-be, no doubt.
Oikawa stands, and twists his lips into something cruel as he looks down at the boy. "Are you waiting for permission to speak?"
The boy can only be a few years younger than Oikawa himself, but he is a boy. A child. The opposite of you, offers the Hajime part of his mind.
The boy's head jerks up to meet Oikawa's eyes and his back straightens, though he looks unsure about the action, as if he doesn't know whether he should keep bowing, as if he thinks Oikawa might like to keep talking to the back of his head.
He has a scar that crawls under his jaw and across his throat that Oikawa automatically regards in a way that means the boy will know that he's seen it, always playing people even though he decided that he had given that habit up. Scars have stories behind them and the way the boy's expression shifts from uncertainty into a resolution tells Oikawa he appreciates the silent acknowledgement and lack of interrogation.
He's shorter than Oikawa, but only just. Oikawa uses the difference to look down his nose at him, drawing himself up.
Several muscles in the boy's face shift before he finds some words to offer into the silence. "We're supposed to go to the Kwoon room."
Oikawa responds with a mildly surprised expression. "Is that so?"
The boy dissolves into a scowl that suits him much better. When Oikawa doesn't speak further he grumbles out another word, "Yes."
"Why don't you scurry along then? I'm sure I'll be along shortly," he says, flashing what should be a calming smile, then folding himself back into his bunk and slinging his arm over his eyes.
The boy must stand there watching him for ten minutes before Oikawa hears footsteps and he can breathe a sigh of relief.
"'Nother three attacks, Tooru," Nishinoya tells him as Oikawa reluctantly sets his food tray down at a table were other people are sitting.
"I heard the alarms," Oikawa says, sitting down behind the tray. He pauses, then speaks before he can stop himself from asking, "How did we do?"
Nishinoya's expression tells him everything he needs to know.
They eat in silence, the rest of the room filled with muted chatter they let wash over them. No one has energy left for talk. Oikawa wants to boost their spirits, but can't bring himself to.
He's joined on his way back to his room from the direction of the training rooms by a shout, "Oikawa-san!" It's a sound that Oikawa has become familiar with over the last two weeks, hearing it every time he ventures out of his quarters.
"Hello, Tobio-chan," Oikawa says without turning around.
Kageyama Tobio is as stubborn as anyone, and, it turns out, will follow orders to the letter. Unless he can't. Not being able to follow his orders is why he's determined to force Oikawa into a Jaeger with him. The only person he ever managed to drift with didn't make the cut to be a pilot. He's still trying, Kageyama had muttered when Oikawa poked that sore spot, causing Oikawa to laugh harshly and reply Of course he is.
Kageyama thinks he needs Oikawa, which is an interesting change to needing everyone he can cling to just to stay afloat.
"The Kwoom room is free," Kageyama says, trailing after Oikawa's footsteps.
"Is that so?" Oikawa says, like it's a fact about the weather.
A crash rings out. Oikawa's body moves without thought. He turns, arms up and crouching into a defensive stance even as his vision clouds and a roar fills his ears.
It's Kageyama, bowing just as he had that first day, with his leg withdrawing from a kick to the wall. There's a sizeable dent in the metal, at least ten centimetres across.
Oikawa bends down to inspect it, willing his body to calm and the sound in his ears to fade. When he speaks, he can almost hear his own words. "Do you think this is going to change my mind, Tobio-chan?"
Kageyama looks like a puppet to his eyes as he returns to standing, a thing rather than a person. It helps, Oikawa thinks. It makes him less real, less able to hurt.
Kageyama casts his eyes down. "People are dying," he says, then tacks on like he'd forgotten, "Oikawa-san."
"Then you should find yourself a partner, Tobio-chan," Oikawa says, lightly, and starts back on his path to his bunk.
This time, it's Kageyama's fist that flies out. Oikawa turns on instinct, letting it sail by and sending Kageyama staggering past him.
His chest is heaving and Oikawa can see the glitter of tears in his eyes. Oikawa wants to believe they're of frustration.
Kageyama stands between Oikawa and his room. The sour tang of vomit is rising in Oikawa's throat and his vision is clouding again. The ringing in his ears never really stopped.
Kageyama widens his stance and lowers his centre of gravity.
"Step aside," he says.
Kageyama doesn't reply, but also keeps his feet planted. A human barricade.
Logically, Oikawa knows that it would be a simple matter to push past him, but the thought of touching another human being when the last person he willingly touched was Hajime makes him freeze.
He grits his teeth, swallows, releases a breath and thanks whatever shitty god would listen to him for letting him keep the contents of his stomach down.
"Fine," he says. "Lead the way, Tobio-chan. I'm not sure I remember where it is."
Kageyama's stance relaxes and he nods. Nothing about Kageyama's body language suggests he trusts Oikawa, and he wonders whether Kageyama realises that will make drifting impossible.
Once they reach the room, Oikawa shakes out his muscles, bouncing on his toes, with his eyes shut, trying to shake out Hajime's voice calling on him to get serious, dickweed!
As Kageyama picks up his staff he hesitates, emotions warring over his face.
Oikawa cuts in before it can make up its mind which one to settle on. "Are you ready, Tobio-chan?"
"Yes, sir," he snaps and Oikawa snorts. He isn't a sir of any kind.
They begin.
Kageyama's style is brilliant, but while be scores more points overall, they both understand it's because Oikawa hasn't stepped into the training room in over a month. Oikawa's patterns slip past his, branching in ways Kageyama can't have thought of. Oikawa suspects it's because he never needed to.
Kageyama's frustration grows as Oikawa scores a point with his staff tapping on Kageyama's forehead, and Oikawa chooses that moment to let his mind go still. With Kageyama emotional and growing frantic, he doesn't need to think. Like you've ever thought in your fucking life, Hajime laughs into the emptiness of his thoughts.
They trade blows at a steady pace. Oikawa's staff flows smoothly through the air and Kageyama fights to meet it, tapping and scrambling to keep up.
Oikawa thinks he might be saying something, that they both are, but it's not until Kageyama yanks his hand free from his staff by his wrist that he can hear his words.
"I am not Iwaizumi-san," Kageyama says.
Ice runs down Oikawa's spine. His staff clatters to the ground. He laughs, though he's not sure how he manages to make his mouth produce the sound. He thinks he says that of course he isn't, that Kageyama isn't nearly as attractive as Iwa-chan is.
And he must have, from Kageyama's reply.
"'Was', Oikawa-san," he says.
Oikawa can't read his face, but he should be able to, it's always so simple.
Kageyama reaches a hesitating hand up towards Oikawa's shoulder. Oikawa jerks away like Kageyama was offering him a snake, and rubs at his shoulder, slick with sweat under his t-shirt.
He can't come up with a joke or barb to cover his mistake or wipe away the sadness he sees reflected in Kageyama's eyes.
He swallows. His mouth tastes like vomit.
"Come and get me tomorrow, Tobio-chan," he says.
Kageyama nods.
It occurs to Oikawa on their third training session together that he is being cruel, as he releases one hand from his staff to slam his fist into Kageyama's gut.
Kageyama doubles over, wheezing, one knee keeping him braced against the ground and staff still clutched in his white knuckles.
Oikawa looks down at him as Kageyama raises his eyes. He's vaguely aware that his mouth is twisted into a smile.
You know you touched him, Hajime points out. Oikawa pretends he didn't hear.
"Again," Kageyama grunts.
Oikawa laughs. "Of course!" he says and takes his stance.
That night, while Oikawa was busy blocking out the world from his bunk, Kageyama shoves open his door with a foot, arms filled with things.
"What," Oikawa says, his nose wrinkling as he takes in the sight, "the fuck is this?"
Kageyama doesn't reply, but he drops his pile of things onto the floor and throws a blanket and a balding panda toy onto the bunk above Oikawa's.
"No," Oikawa says, with rising horror.
Kageyama shoots him a glare, then breaks his gaze away. "They want to reduce the area for maintenance."
Numb, Oikawa rises and staggers out of his room to the toilets. He dry heaves into the bowl for what feels like hours until his stomach gives up, and he coughs one last time. He rinses his mouth, which does nothing for the taste, and walks in a daze back to his room.
Kageyama's things are everywhere that Hajime's should be. Oikawa crawls onto his bunk and presses his face into his pillow. He doesn't reply when Kageyama mumbles about getting dinner.
With their cohabitation, Oikawa gets to see the bruise on Kageyama's stomach form. It's a purple tattoo blooming under his ribs that fades into yellow and green as it heals. He sees Kageyama's fingers linger over the edges, a gesture he doesn't grace his other bruises with.
When Oikawa chirps that they're going to drift, Kageyama falls out of his seat.
"Oikawa-san?" he asks, like Oikawa has grown at least three extra heads in the last ten seconds.
His false cheer dissolves.
"Don't give me that, Tobio-chan," he snaps. "You were the one who said people are dying."
Kageyama stills, then nods, slowly. "Now?" he asks.
"No time like the present!" Oikawa says, an awkward shell of his previous good mood taped over his irritation.
When they're suited up and ready to be strapped into the simulator, Oikawa regards Kageyama.
"You look like an action figure, Tobio-chan," he says, dismissively.
Hajime always looked like a soldier, every second of the day. Oikawa had refused to mirror that look, claiming that he would rather look like himself, but they both understood that it was because Oikawa was scared to share himself with a group in case he failed and brought them crashing down with him. In the end, he only shared himself with Hajime, and look how that ended.
"Hup, hup, hup, Tobio-chan!" he says, ignoring the anxiety filling his throat. "Don't keep me waiting now."
He runs on automatic until the drift is engaged, making jabs at Kageyama and laughing at the grouchy snaps he receives in reply.
Before they went under, he heard Nishinoya ask Tanaka if they were going to be okay, and he laughs and laughs inside his mind.
He hasn't drifted with anyone but Hajime. He never needed to. He's assisted with training, helped every partner achieve better results than they could have imagined, but the inside of his mind he left for Hajime. And now, he supposes, Kageyama.
He aches to follow the rabbit, track down the pieces of Hajime he has left, but before he can, Kageyama is yelling at him.
He's swearing, loudly and creatively. A barrage of thoughts and hurt and memories of loneliness that sweep over Oikawa so fast that he can't pick out just one to focus on.
Welcome, Tobio-chan! he says against the stream of expletives, cutting it short. Do you think we can manage to kill an alien some day soon?
They manage to stay synced for ten minutes before Oikawa pulls his helmet off, laughter leaving his eyes streaming.
Kageyama has never looked so confused, as when they returned to their room that night and Oikawa traps him against his chest to listen to him breathe.
Kageyama is alive, and so is he. Together, they can help people. Together, they can win.