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sportsanime2016-07-07 08:59 pm
referees) wrote in sportsanime2016-07-07 08:59 pm
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Bonus Round 4: Quotes
A shipping olympics favorite, this round uses quotes of all sorts to fuel your creative endeavors.
This round is CLOSED as of 7PM on July 21 EDT. Late fills may be posted, but they will not receive points.
RULES
- Submit prompts by commenting to this post with a quote attributed to a specific person or character, along with any ship/ot3/etc. from one of our nominated fandoms.
- Example: "You must be the change you wish to see in the world." - M. Gandhi
- The quote can come from anywhere. Famous people, poetry, songs, books, movies, your neighbor, etc.
- Your prompt MUST include some kind of relationship. (This is not the sports anime gen olympics.) Platonic relationships are indicated by an "&" between the names (e.g., Makoto & Rin). Non-platonic relationships use "/" (e.g., Makoto/Rin). Please don't say "Any pairing," either!
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 ALDINI TAKUMI/YUKIHIRA SOUMA, G.
IDK I WAS JUST TRYING TO GET SOMETHING DONE I'M SORRY
—
he remembers the first time he saw that name on his right wrist, a deeper shade of red than the flesh around it—he was four, and he used every ounce of his childish brain power to etch the kanji into his mind. he wondered, quietly, how it should be read. when he stumbled over to his mother about it, she pointed it out all the possibilities, yet that was the one that clung onto him. there was one particular reading he liked the best: shadow mountain and flying hero.
this is your soulmate, she would say while tracing the characters with a fingertip while oikawa squirmed in her lap. he could remember the sound of her laughter, warm and light, like a chime greeted by the evening breeze. you won’t forget, will you, tooru?
he doesn’t. he’s fourteen when he’s alone in the house, when he finally gets the name on his left wrist. all of his friends have already gotten that curse, the names of their enemy; and in some ways it makes the house feel fuller, even with one wrist marked with a person he hasn’t met yet.
oikawa looks, half-hiding behind his right hand and half-not, at the marks that are now discernible. the cherry blossoms are dying off as the end of spring looms near, and under the fluorescent light, he sees it: kageyama tobio.
the same name on his other wrist.
he resists fate, like all teenage boys do. he scratches and scratches until angry red marks obscure the name engraved into his skin. when it doesn’t work, he ignores it. he hasn’t met this kageyama tobio, and maybe he won’t now, even if the name rolls off his tongue after a million practices from childhood.
there’s a day that stands out from all the others that tooru can remember. it’s when he’s a mere couple months older, the cusp of puberty and teenagehood. he enters the kitagawa daiichi gym to start a new year’s worth of practice, but it isn’t until he watches a certain boy speak that oikawa’s world shifts underneath him—slowly, but all at once.
that one small boy with wide blue eyes calls out, “i’m kageyama tobio!” and oikawa swallows the lump forming in his throat. he stops, and he thinks, is this who i’ll end up with? this scrawny kid?
it doesn’t end there.
captivated is a strong word. he’s read it before, in the shoujo mangas girls giggle over in class or the romance novels his sister used to fawn over. he thinks it’s too much for someone so undeserving, but he’s not stupid enough to deny that his eyes are always wandering over to tobio during volleyball practice. and how can they not, with the almost flawless form of tobio’s setting, arms up, fingers spread in the air to pass the ball with the utmost precision. there are parts of it that are messy, and if you ask oikawa, he can point them all out: tobio’s knees aren’t bent at exactly the right angle, his fingertips miss by a centimeter or two.
nothing like his own, mastered after endless practices. oikawa can feel the years creeping up on him when he sees tobio, the inevitable pursuit that will make tobio better than him in less time than it would take oikawa to improve that much.
it’s a terrible thing, the way it gnaws at his head, and now he understands why tobio is on the left wrist. but not why he’s on the other.
oikawa never asks about tobio’s wrists. he’s seen them once or twice while tobio changed in the locker room, embedded to both sides, and he grimaces at the memory. his name there, on the expanse of tobio’s pale skin, is the last thing he wants to see.
tobio, though, never asks either. it doesn’t seem like tobio cares much for anything outside of volleyball, but oikawa doesn’t know if he prefers the will you teach me how to serve, oikawa-san? to is my name on your wrists too? something about tobio’s selective avoidance leaves him irritated.
oikawa graduates soon enough and the silence is still there, forming the distance between them.
it takes a couple more years before oikawa even gets an inkling of why he and tobio have been tied by the red string. it’s a pity, though, that it only comes after being apart.
he doesn’t miss tobio. every fibre of his being tells him that. but there’s something that bothers him about the way he seems to fit into karasuno, and the antagonism that tobio shows every time the two of them share a court (not that oikawa doesn’t feel like he deserves it, if he’s finally honest enough to say). the once wide blue eyes have narrowed into mistrustful, perpetually angry ones. tobio had grown up.
and so had oikawa.
he grew past the years of crippling self-doubt at the thought of tobio’s setting. tobio was no longer the darkness looming over, eating at his head until his mind was infested with the thought of being replaced.
too bad, though, that childishness was still bleeding into oikawa’s vessels instinctively, at the sight of this stupid kouhai.
what surprises oikawa years later, when he’s a third year in university, is that tobio is the one who takes initiative.
he finds oikawa on campus, leaving class, and pulls him aside with a socially messy excuse to the friend group that had been surrounding oikawa. when the two of them are tucked behind a building and out of sight, tobio stands there for a moment while oikawa watches with a brow raised.
“what is it, tobio-chan?”
tobio’s face flushes as he stutters, all before he pulls up his sleeves and shows the kanji practically engraved into his wrists. oikawa can kind of feel his cheeks heat up too, just from seeing his name written faintly red marks.
“you,” tobio breathes. he’s the one stepping up while oikawa is against the wall. “you too, oikawa-san?”
if the two of them had been friendly before, then maybe this would’ve been the perfect moment for a kiss—but they weren’t, yet oikawa feels the need to fill this space with something intimate. he leans forward until his forehead touches tobio’s, his own face as stupidly warm as tobio’s looks.
oikawa looks into those blue eyes, parts his lips before tobio can inject, and exhales softly, “yeah. stupid kouhai. me too.”