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sportsanime2016-07-21 08:53 pm
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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 Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, T
Fullmetal Alchemist AU, warnings for canon-typical levels of violence mentioned
1215 words
Iwaizumi Hajime is a heavy sleeper.
Oikawa doesn't understand how. He used to be, himself, what seems like a long time ago. It's something he didn't expect to change before the war started, but now he can barely sleep through the cars passing outside, the way the lights slide across the walls of Iwaizumi's small bedroom before vanishing.
It's a warm night, and Iwaizumi just has a sheet draped over his waist, arms tucked under the pillow. His back is facing Oikawa, and there's just enough light in the room or him to really be able to look at Iwaizumi's back.
He wishes there weren't-- that it were darker or that Iwaizumi would roll to lay in a different position. It's petty, awful, the way staring at the scars that mar his skin, paler than the usual tawny color of it makes his stomach turn slightly.
It's not Iwaizumi, though. Of course, it isn't.
What Oikawa Tooru can't stand is himself.
He doesn't remember how old he was.
He remembers Iwaizumi's condition, in sharing the research of his father. That Oikawa never let anyone else know the secrets of flame alchemy. At the time, it seemed easy to agree to. Oikawa has always been naturally selfish, and the idea of having a skill that would be his and his alone...
When he jumped at the chance, he didn't expect the research to be tattooed on Iwaizumi's skin until he'd turned, jerking his shirt off over his head.
Oikawa is bright and dedicated. Maybe he's not a prodigy, but it doesn't take him more than two weeks to crack all the secrets, to teach himself with Iwaizumi to use as a resource for as much as he knows.
And it's such a triumph, when he manages to make fire.
And then Iwaizumi tugs his shirt off again, gripping his hands around the wooden counter of his father's home, voice as steady and resolute as Oikawa has ever heard it. "You have to get rid of it now."
"I- Iwa-chan?" Oikawa stutters. He was so preoccupied playing with the clever invention of his own gloves, surely he must have missed something else that Iwaizumi said...
"You have to burn it off my back. That's the condition," Iwaizumi glances over his shoulder, and Oikawa can see the beads of nervous sweat on his temples, the way his back is already curled like he's ready to flinch away from Oikawa's touch already.
"I can't do that!" Oikawa whips his hand back like he's the one that's been burned, and Iwaizumi turns around with a snarl on his face, gripping Oikawa's wrist.
"Listen to me. There can never be another flame alchemist. I need you to get rid of it," Iwaizumi sighs, releasing Oikawa's hand slowly, shaking his head. "Please, Oikawa. I can't carry this around forever."
Oikawa's fingers are trembling, and when he doesn't protest, Iwaizumi turns around again and grips the counter, shutting his eyes and letting out a breath that shakes. "Do it."
Iwaizumi interrupts Oikawa staring off into space by slapping a stack of papers down on the desk in front of him. Oikawa jerks back with a yelp, blinking his eyes wildly. "You scared me, Iwa-chan!"
"There's an empty bed in the barracks if you need a nap," Iwaizumi responds with a roll of his eyes. Oikawa huffs, brushing his bangs out of his face.
"I'm fine." He's tired, but like hell is he going to actually admit to it. Especially to Iwaizumi, who glowers at him impressively before tapping his fingers on the papers he set down.
“You need to deal with these. They’re trying to move our transfer through,” his eyebrows knit together and Oikawa bobs his head in a nod, leaning his cheek on his hand and grabbing a pen, spinning it between his fingers.
“Shouldn’t you at least call me ‘sir’ while you boss me around, Iwa-chan?” He hides the curve of his smile against his palm, and Iwaizumi rolls his eyes.
“Get a move on, sir.”
After he reduces the tattoo on Iwaizumi’s back to scar tissue and illegible ink, they don’t see each other again for two years. It’s Oikawa’s doing, made easier by the excuse of being busy with his new position as a State Alchemist, but underneath it all, he’s just not sure how to face Iwaizumi again.
During the war, he loses his chance of running away. Iwaizumi is there, brought in as a sniper, and of course covering Oikawa’s back every horrible step of the way.
And Oikawa hates it. It’s nothing like a reunion should be. Iwaizumi doesn’t say anything to him about flame alchemy, or about the reason Oikawa ran away for two years. Oikawa doesn’t bring it up either, and if he’s honest with himself, he’s scared of the topic.
Iwaizumi’s eye change over the course of the war. It shouldn’t be a surprise; no one looks at the world the same way after, but to Oikawa, the shift in Iwaizumi is the most noticeable, the one that cuts him most deeply.
“Hajime,” Oikawa mumbles the name against his mouth like praise, like it’s a precious gift that’s been pressed into his hands where they trace over Iwaizumi’s skin.
Oikawa doesn’t want to waste time telling himself again why he shouldn’t do this. He could spend a lifetime trying to talk himself out of things, but he’s never been any good at it, and it’s not likely to change now.
Iwaizumi’s small apartment is dark but when Oikawa strips his shirt off of him he still closes his eyes and fits his hands at Iwaizumi’s hips, gripping until his nails dig indents into his skin. Iwaizumi grunts, leaning into the next kiss that Oikawa presses against his lips. Until, that is, he notices the force with which Oikawa has his eyes closed.
The shove that sends Oikawa stumbling back toward the door is a surprise and he opens his eyes, blinking rapidly at the view of Iwaizumi with a fist raised like he’s ready to knock Oikawa’s head off of his shoulders. “Get out.”
Oikawa doesn’t argue, doesn’t question why. They both know he’s still running away. He fixes the askew collar of his shirt and slinks back out the door.
Iwaizumi is just starting to stir himself into wakefulness, and Oikawa wonders if he can feel the prickle of a stare on his back. He smiles, reaching out to stroke the skin laid bare in front of him, stroking Iwaizumi’s back with slow fingers.
Before Iwaizumi has fully crossed over into wakefulness, Oikawa leans forward, pressing his lips to each separate scar. He slides his hand around to Iwaizumi’s front, using the leverage to pull them closer. Iwaizumi grunts softly, leaning back into the warm press of Oikawa against him. “Mornin’ sir.”
Oikawa wrinkles his nose, pressing another kiss to Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “You’re not supposed to call me that when you’re in my bed.”
“Our bed,” Iwaizumi gripes in return, arguing before he even opens his eyes. It makes Oikawa smile. “Mornin’ Tooru.”
Oikawa hums out a soft laugh. “Good morning.”
Re: FILL: Team Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, T
Re: FILL: Team Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, T
Re: FILL: Team Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, T