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sportsanime2017-06-25 06:52 pm
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Bonus Round 3: FSTs

Please read this whole post before commenting to ensure that your team gets the most points possible.
RULES
- Submit prompts in the form of a short playlist (1-6 songs) and a ship from any of our nominated fandoms. Submit only the track listing and a link to where they can be listened to; the idea is for others to interpret what you present. You may also link to lyrics if you would like.
- Your prompt MUST include some kind of relationship. Platonic relationships are indicated by an "&" between the names (e.g., Lilia & Sara). Non-platonic relationships use "/" (e.g., Lilia/Sara). Please don't say "Any pairing," either.
- Create content based on the playlists of others! Fill prompts by leaving a responding comment to the prompt with your newly-created work.
- Fills may be in any form you choose (except for another FST of course) as long as they are inspired by/fit the mood of the soundtrack they are filling for.
- Remember to follow the general bonus round rules, outlined here.
- Here is a prompt/fill index for your convenience.
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.
If you see anyone breaking the code of conduct (e.g., causing drama, being rude) anywhere (not just DW), please contact the mods immediately.
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)
For fills:First 4 fills by any member of your team: 20 points each
Fills 5-10: 15 points each
Fills 11-20: 5 points each
Fills 21-50: 2 points each
Fills 51+: 1 point 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 (see the line of links below this post).Have a question? Check The FAQ first. If you still need help, feel free to contact the mods. Happy fanworking!
PROMPT: TEAM GRANDSTAND
Fandom: Yowamushi Pedal & Prince of Tennis
Major Tags: character death, amputation, mutilation, harassment, emotional manipulation
Other Tags: more repo au because i love to fucking suffer
Prompt:
1. Night Surgeon [lyrics in video description]
2. Tonight We Are Betrayed [lyrics in video description]
3. Let The Monster Rise [lyrics in video description]
Re: PROMPT: TEAM GRANDSTAND
Re: PROMPT: TEAM GRANDSTAND
FILL: Team Prince of Tennis, M
Fandom: Yowamushi Pedal & Prince of Tennis
Major Tags: Character Death, Abuse (Patient Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Child Abuse), Bodily fluids/functions (blood), Graphic depictions of violence/gore (Mutilation, Puncturing the skin), Self harm
Other Tags: Angst, Childbearing and complications (I mean it’s not actually mentioned in here but if you extrapolate based on the source material…), Medical issues (Disease, Prescriptions/medication, Surgery), Repo the Genetic Opera AU
Word Count: 702
Hahaha, I’m dead inside now...
***
Inui shutters as the scalpel cuts through flesh, the easy glide of it. His muscle memory takes over, soothing the buzzing of his brain. The guilt, the fear, it all slides away like the blood blooming over skin and the muzzled screams of the client who couldn’t keep up the payments on his liver.
He throws himself into it, hoping to shut off the part of his brain that screams with almost the same measure of pain.
Still, Inui knows better than anyone that his brain almost never shuts off for long. Soon his mind is wandering again, and behind his mask he flinches.
He thinks of a face and for a moment, he’s almost not sure which one it is.
Kaoru…
Or Shingo.
Shingo slams his hand against a door, as the chute next to it dispenses his next dosage of medicine. His dad left some time ago, instructing him to take his medicine but…
He glares at the door. He feels like he’s been glaring at the same door for seventeen years, grinding his nails into the grain of the wood. His fingertips begin to sting, but he continues on for a beat past that, letting the dull pain seep in for a moment he takes a step back.
He grabs the vial of his medicine and spikes it on the floor. It won’t shatter — he knows that all too well — and instead it just bounces and rolls somewhere out of sight. He’ll have to fish it out soon, but he doesn’t care just yet.
Looking up over the mantle, the hologram of his father stares dully at him.
“He says I look just like you,” Shingo says, with some anger. “He says I have your jaw, your nose... “ He clenches a fist. “Why did you have to give me your genetics?” He slams a hand against the mantle, catching the edge against his palm. He cradles the hand to him, realizing that it drew a bit of blood. He stares at it for a moment, feeling a hot rage building in his chest.
“Why?” he asks, staring at the blood. “Why did you give me your blood too?”
He’s still seething when he finally decides to look for the bottle, and finds it just below the windowsill. He takes a look behind him quickly, before opening up the window and stepping outside.
He’s just angry enough to do something he shouldn’t. The outside world pulls at him as bright ads whizz past him.
The opera is tonight, he remembers, and suddenly it doesn’t seem like such an impossible task.
He just has to take a leap.
When Inui’s helmet comes off, he tries his best to coil into himself, cover his face, but he knows it’s futile.
His son is smart.
He would have found out anyway.
“Dad?” Shingo’s voice shakes as he drops the repo man’s mask. Inui’s mask.
“Shingo,” Inui says. “I can… Can we just go home, Shingo?”
“Dad… Can you tell me you’re… that you’re not…”
Inui manages to look up at him. Look him in the eyes. They’re scared, desperate.
Terrified.
In color, Shingo definitely inherited his eyes from Inui, but right now all Inui can see is Kaoru.
“Shingo, can we just go home and… forget this…”
Shingo shakes, this time not with fear. That emotion is draining away quickly, exposing a hot rage that may have been boiling for a long time. He picks up the repo mask, and Inui makes no effort to deflect it as it smack against him.
“How could you, Dad?”
“I’m sorry,” Inui whispers, but he’s not sure who he’s really saying it to.
Shingo starts storming away. Inui grabs him by the forearm, but he roughly pulls away. “Don’t touch me,” he spits, a low growl rather than a scream. “As far as I’m concerned, my Dad is dead.”
“Shingo, I’m sorry, I…”
Shingo is already gone. And in his absence, something like routine slips into his actions, body moving on its own, quelling the screaming of his mind.
“I’m sorry… Kaoru…” he manages to whisper, before his fingers wrap around the grip of his scalpel, and the muscle memory takes over again.
Re: FILL: Team Prince of Tennis, M