ace-writes

[ace-writes]

adhd culture is writing fast but having your mind go even faster so you accidentally a few words

[ace-writes]

Gal couldn't contain the rage she felt, couldn't hide the tears that pricked her reddened vision. Her mother was dead right in front of her, her bloodied and pale body stomped on, shot at, sliced, spat at.

Her mother was dead because of these mindless puppets of EVE..

Before her vision cleared, she grabbed the vial in the satchel secured across her, only aware of the blue glow before piercing near the inside of her elbow. Seeing red no longer proved an issue, for her veins glowed as they burned, caused an uproar in her systems and made her stomach lurch violently. She crashed into the wall behind her, taking down a small table with her as she gasped for a painless breath-- any relief from the pain of her DNA unwrapping, knotting, and disintegrating to be replaced.

The splicers turned to look at her, their bloodied and singed masks barely any help in covering the ugliness of long-term EVE use-- she could see their torn smiles widen as she clambered to her knees, shaking violently as she fished out the last bottle left in her bag.

Without a glance, she downed it like a shot-- even reacted like it was a shot, wincing and shaking her head at the burn before coughing as the burn only intensified. She shook harder, felt beads of sweat dampen her torn clothes, and sputtered, gasped at the fire that crawled down her throat and seeped into her insides to her blood in seconds, burning up her hair and fingers glowing with magma-like heat.

The pain was unbearable as it coursed through her blood, seared her skin, left her fingertips to the bone before returning after a puff of hot smoke-- as if plasmids were vaccines, causing that pain to become immune.

But pain was temporary. Pain was a desire -- not exactly for herself, but a feeling she desired for the splicers; unbearable, immense pain they wanted to die from-- but she was no kind, innocent soul. She'd leave them slowly burning, in agony, until there is no more living matter to burn and torture.

It's what they deserved.

It's how she felt every moment she had to look at her mother's defiled corpse.

[ace-writes]

Mihail stepped into the room, uneasy, unfitting in such an elegant room. Draperies of silk and velvet hung from the walls and around two pillars at either side of the bed's end, sleek fabric tied back from one wide portion of the bed from which Arvid stepped out of.

His hair was braided back, loose and wispy from the rather clumsy hands of the god himself, yet his clothing was sheer and long, wrapped around in a complex-seeming fashion.

"You got my message," his voice was soft and relieved. "I wanted a chance to talk to you personally, not exactly as my champion, but.. perhaps a partner or companion? How strong is a bond if we are not at least attempting to be close, yes?"

Mihail's heart quickened and his jaw set, but he said little, giving a small nod in agreement as he looked over the fabrics Arvid donned. Silvers and whites, even lilac silk and lace peered under thicker fabric to show his status and greatness-- such colors were rare and expensive.. He only wished to touch those fabrics, feel the softness of them against his calloused hands and watch them slide from Arvid's shoulders, past his chest..

"These are very lovely, yes?" Arvid smiled, gesturing at the fabrics draped from his arms and shoulders to his toes, even tapping the wreath of silver branches and leaves in his hair.

"They're beautiful.." Mihail said it in a more breathy tone than intended, eyes unable to look from the pale skin of his collarbone on one side..

Arvid held his breath before stepping closer, "I also asked you to come by for... another reason." His pale skin flushed as he continued, "These tones you use when speaking privately with me, the looks I feel from you... Are they my imagination? For if they are, I apologize and nothing shall ever come from this again-- however, if they are true... Well, ah.. I would not be opposed..-"

His skin was red as he tried to chuckle out his admittance, unable to look Mihail in the eyes, afraid of Mihail causing an uproar if he were to not feel the same-- gods and their champions were meant only as companions, nothing romantic was allowed.. Other acts... those were allowed, if it appeared to improve productivity and bonds between the two in battles. Romance was, however, a web which complicated too much.

Mihail couldn't get the words off his tongue, his voice caught in his throat and he watched Arvid.. Perhaps actions spoke more than words. He reached out to hold some of the fabric at Arvid's waist, heavy and slippery in his fist. A few beats passed before he leaned closer, their foreheads close, "I am not worth the punishments you would receive if found loving me, if that is what you mean.."

Arvid turned redder despite his plain expression, "You underestimate your worth, dear Mihail.. You were chosen by a god, would have been chosen by another if I had not been so lucky!"

He nearly melted, his knees feeling weak for just a moment before he tilted his head, jutted his chin closer, "Please call me that again.."

"Mihail.." Arvid blinked slowly, mouth curling into a smile around such a breathy name.

Mihail kissed him deeply, both hands gripping the fabrics at his waist, held up at his back as if to dip him, "My name on your tongue is a blessing I could never give in return..."

Such a game was proving enjoyable for Arvid, though he knew hearing a rough voice groan his name would nearly stop his heart, "*Mihail..*"

—

Arvid's voice cracked and wavered in the morning, clearly rather... strained.

At first Mihail's reaction to such a voice was fear-- what if his god was ill or someone would notice? However, with kisses to spare and the light touches of silk on his skin-- both bedding and Arvid's clothing from last night --he found himself amused and rather proud.

"Did I, a mere human, strain someone so godly such as yourself?" Humor, but also a hint of flirtatiousness, for he brushed back the hair he had tangled and untangled to caress Arvid's tired smile.

"Oh, perhaps.. With what you have brought to the table since our first interaction, I've always wondered if you were a demi-god.. Such a bear of a man.." his voice grew rather gruff at that, fingertips reaching out to brush through his trimmed beard and feel for the scratches across his back, both ones of passion at his shoulderblades and permanent ones of violence.. "Mihail, my love, you are *beautiful...* Watching you move in battle tore at me, made me desire what I never desired before-- and here we are, vulnerable and close.. So, so close--"

More kisses, distracting Arvid entirely from his thoughts, only focused on Mihail's scratchy beard, his calloused hands, and his warmth.

Breathing got in the way of so much-- locked lips and legs, loving words against his skin... Though breathing better allowed him to express how he felt towards Arvid aesthetically; he watched Arvid's bony figure sit up, bundle silk and satin around him and across Mihail's shoulders, eagerly pulling close to push him back down.. And all Mihail could do when he watched Arvid, clothed or not, was hold his breath. He felt unworthy of breathing what touched Arvid, though he ached to be everything Arvid has touched and was touched by.

[ace-writes]

Gal always started her morning routine with toast, cracking eggs, and experimenting with proportions and ingredients-- literature in general was a rarity, perhaps even a luxury. Mom would eat anything, always answering Gal's burnt or accidents with, "Beats a can of tuna any day, darlin'."

Coffee was black, creamer was a pain in the ass to find sometimes, the toast either burnt to a crisp or was still cold due to unreliable power-- Rapture was a rough city to live in; all looks, no remorse or pity. Down here, you hoped to god you were lucky and had money.

And Gal and her mother were far from lucky-- when they were kicked out of their complex when rent raised, the two had never felt so unsafe. Gal had been chipping in, working with a small canning factory before they were out bought and she was let go. It seemed hopeless at the time-- at least until Gal weaved her way into Siren Alley. No longer curled in the corner of her mother's friend's apartment, they were back on their feet with money to spare at times.

"Honey, did you sleep at all?"

Gal nearly jumped to a start, suddenly aware she'd zoned out a bit too long. Her eyes were heavy and aching, and she assumed the smudges of badly-washed eye makeup only accentuated her exhaustion. Truth was, she only slept during the day due to her ...night job.

"I slept, yeah.. Might be the bed and the neighbors-- thin walls," Gal desperately ate her egg sandwich, pleased to eat more food.

"Uh huh.." Unconvinced, distracted, analyzing.. "How much you bring in last night?"

"A bit more than usual, worked a few hours over since bills are coming up," Gal tried to be casual, act awake.

"Do they treat you alright over in that alley?"

"..Mm?"

"Does Siren Alley treat you alright?"

Gal's face fell and she blinked at her mother, watching her practically age before her eyes.

"You do work over there.." Her mother covered her face, voice cracking. "I should've known... the makeup, the .. oh, baby, I failed you.."

"Nono, momma, you did nothing of the sort!" Gal was quick to move around the table to hold her mother's head to her chest.

"I did.." A sob, meager and broken. "My baby had to grow up and give herself away to keep us alive.. I thought I was keepin' you safe, but I only endangered you more.. I'm so sorry, baby.."

[ace-writes]

Arvid's temporary home was not the best home in the village, in all honesty. The floorboards had the occasional moulding spots and creaked and groan under ghost footsteps, but they kept warm throughout the winter no matter the amount of snow outside. Shingles and bricks on his little home were chipping off and breaking nearly everyday, but he found himself lucky to have a roof over his head-- one that only leaked a bit when the rain fell with great force.

Arvid would come back from a small trek into the forest and find himself looking the home with a sigh-- it's only for a short time he would reassure himself.

And though living right on the outskirts of town -just before the forest swallowed up sky- was soothing and wonderful to listen to in the mornings and on rainy or snowy days, the howling scared him.

Some nights were worse than others.

With the moon in all her silver glory, full and bright, Arvid would hear terrible howls which resembled a wolf, but far louder and more vicious. His mind pictured a werewolf, with a mangy mane and bony, fleshy limbs-- he could only think about the needle-like teeth glittering red, body smeared in the gore of their victim.

He'd never seen a werewolf in person and he hoped he never did-- though his chances felt higher living so close to the forest.

Some nights, when the moon was full, he would keep a window cracked open just to listen for those howls and the whisper of trees from the wind. Sometimes the howl was low, weak.. remorseful... He found himself feeling sympathy for that lone wolf or werewolf, his mind picturing a more wolfish creature as he grew more comfortable in his home and the full moon's devotee. He began buying more meats in town, leaving some out near the edge of the forest for this odd wolf, watching this meat disappear overnight every time.. Until he stayed up all night, a slab of beef right near his front door, hoping to catch this howling creature. He fell asleep before he caught sight of them, but he woke soon after, feeling and hearing the sniffing of a dog through the crack of his window.

He closed the window and went to bed right after, suddenly aware of how stupid his ideas for this had been.

Insomnia helped nothing - neither did his anxiety as he became more and more aware of such a stupid act. He lured a potential monster, or even just a bloodthirsty or rabid wolf, to him home, made them aware of his scent and where he lives and sleeps...

He refused to leave his little home for a few days, only leaving the warm light of his home during the brightest portion of the day. He began keeping defensive items near his door-- a cricket bat --just in case..

Soon enough, however, he grew more lax about these fears of supposed monsters of the full moon-- he realized how silly he sounded and felt, taking something he'd read in fairytales as absolute truths. The cricket bat stayed leaned next to his bedpost, however-- just in case.

[ace-writes]

"Now, now baby--"

"Don't "baby" me--"

Skipper's laugh was more nerves than humor, but he played it off smooth, possibly seductively, as if the barrel of a shotgun wasn't pressed to his lower belly.

Gal stood, no longer perched in his lap, her eyes burning and her mouth a curved line, so simple yet hinting at the beginning of a bitter, hateful sneer. Her heels clicked when she stepped, toe-heel, toe-heel.

Please, please put one foot on the chair like in the stories--

One foot, heel and all, made its place on the chair he sat on, rather aggressively letting him know his chair he sat on wasn't his-- she'd move him if she wanted. Man-spreading was no longer an option, but a necessity at this point.

And he chuckled, rather intimidated, but soon cleared his throat, looking away and trying not to look at the heeled shoe that stayed between his knees on the chair. Her amused hum didn't help the matter at all. Nor did the weight at his lower belly-- though the fact that it was a firearm greatly kept his tongue tied and heat levels low.

"I swear to god, I will shoot your nuts off, merchant.. I--I'll.." she swore viciously under her breath, leaning more on to the chair and with the shotgun-- Skipper grunted.

"You'll what?"

"I--" Gal sneered completely, eyes wild, hair so frizzy and puffy, "I'm threatening to shoot you. And you're talking back."

Skipper felt a laugh bubble back up, almost as if hysterical, but fought it as he watched her face. Maybe any of the options here meant death.

"What? Don't fancy a sharp tongue?"

Another jab-- he coughed and grunted when she pushed the shotgun directly at his groin, eyes flaring with anger.

"Okay- okay, sorry. Sorry." He wasn't. "I just get the feeling' that you're not wanting anymore blood on your hands in this hell house."

Gal allowed him the slightest amount of comfort from the gun's barrel.

Skip continued, face still serious, "You wanna buy some plasmids to help kill spl--"

She jabbed the barrel into him again, jaw locked, "Why do I even fucking BOTHER?"

His groin was sore, so so incredibly sore, from such an encounter with his own shotgun-- but he knew what he needed to know. She needed help and she didn't want more bloodshed than she'd already seen today.

[ace-writes]

A dancer was the last thing they'd expect to be threatened by, right?

Gal stared straight at him as she encouraged him to move backwards with the tip of her knife. His adam's apple bobbed under the knife's tip, but he remained calm and smug-looking. Her second knife pressed close at his belly, though, turned his skin a bit paler under the blue glow of Rapture's portholes.

She had him pinned, she had him right in the palm of her hand with both her looks and her knives..

She'd never killed someone before, though-- not even a splicer, let alone a mostly sane citizen..

Her breath caught before she loosened her grip, instead turning her blade's focus to press deeper below his adam's apple, the long edge now threatening to slice his skin.

"I don't trust you.."

He gave a taut laugh, a bit difficult with his head against the wall and a knife at his throat, "I'm glad we're in the same boat here."

[ace-writes]

CEO of a paper company, selling drugs and people on the side: Dead.

Dead right in front of Quincy, bullet to the mouth, the head, the leg..

He stared for so long, his trembling worsening and worsening as his head swam and his blood ran cold until he sprinted to the nearest wall, clutching his stomach, retching endlessly.

Wiping the sick from his mouth, he turned to face the corpse of his victim.

"You done, kid?"

"I-I think so.."

"Alright. You did it-- now you gotta exit a new way."

"What about... What about anyone I encounter?"

"Kill em."

His stomach churned, his blood ran cold. His legs screamed to bolt against a wall again when he retched once more.

"Kid, you're gonna have to get used to this. We'll clean that up once you're out -- don't let this happen next time though."

More retching, panicked and breaths quickening.

"Don't worry, it'll get easier."

[ace-writes]

Arvid finally encountered the beast man in the dead of night, nearly weeks after catching glimpses of his pelts and snarling face in the woods.

The encounter was not one he at all expected; he woke to a great hand holding his jaw, soon moving his head this way and that with curiosity before he growled a warning at the sight of Arvid's sleepy eyes.

The man barked a language unknown to Arvid, teeth bared, and fingers digging into his skin. Soil and dirt and rain choked his senses, the beast man's hands clearly rarely washed in rivers or streams while in the woods.

"I-I'm harmless," Arvid squeaked, fighting everything not to scrabble away from the man. "I swear.."

There was a pause as the man seemed to analyze the tone of his nervous voice, taking the fear and gentle tone as submission before backing away, eyes narrowed and a throaty growl warning him not to move.

Another bark of a phrase, his voice gruff and low, and he crawled away, on edge and furious even while running back to the forest, Arvid watching from his window.

The second time, Arvid was awake-- just barely. His heavy eyelids could barely stay up for more than a few seconds as the man observed and sniffed the room, always stealing glances at the exhausted man sitting in bed before leaving once more..

It was the third night that woke Arvid up entirely. The beast man took hold of the blankets around Arvid and simply picked them up, observing their texture and their warmth before dropping them to the floor. He watched Arvid for a solid minute, his breaths silent compared to Arvid's shaky breathing-- the was no protection or sense of safety for him as this huge man took in every shadow cast by the lamp nearby and Arvid's face. He always came back to looking over his face.

This beast man grunted foreign words at him, repeating it a few times before kneeling before Arvid. He pointed at his chest, eyes never looking away from Arvid.

From his phrases, the most repeated word seemed to be Mihail, and Arvid caught on.

"Your name is Mihail?"

"Hm," he grunted in reply, seeming a bit more friendly with just the way Arvid said it.

Almost rather shy in his attempt, he pointed at Arvid, who pointed at his own chest in question-- Mihail touched Arvid's chest and grunted, insisting he share his name too.

"I-I'm Arvid--"

"EemArved.."

"Nono," He smiled, pointing at himself a few times. "Arvid."

Though his name rolled as Eirved on his lips, Arvid was pleased at the pronunciation and grunted in response-- the growl of Mihail's voice, the softness of his name made him uneasy.. Though this uneasiness felt like something he could get used to.

Their exchange of names seemed enough for Mihail, however, for his expression grew softer and a bit more light before he stood back to his full height. A salutation was mumbled and he left the room, forgetting about the warm blankets on the floor -- in all fairness, Arvid forgot too.

[ace-writes]

The silence was one Arvid couldn't bear.

"Hello?" Arvid stood behind one of the agents that kept communication between the soldiers and headquarters constant. "Is there anyone there?"

Arvid's heart thrummed through his entire body, feeling as if it were attempting to jump out of his throat.. Vertigo overcame him and he felt sick to his stomach as the warmth of his blood turned icy.

He turned away, trying to ignore the distant attempts to come back into contact with their lost soldier. He couldn't handle the idea of Mihail dying on a mission-- on a mission he wasn't a part of to help with...

Days passed and retrievals were arranged. They came back with Mihail's jacket-- they found no sign of a body at all.. Arvid curtly thanked a soldier that handed him the jacket, all knowing that he was Mihail's partner in battle-- "a brother in arms" they often assumed. He felt no shame when he hid away, clutching this jacket, to slip into a bathroom and curl under the weight of the jacket. His runny nose nuzzled into the fluff of the hood, taking in the metallic and heavy scent of wood as if he could still nuzzle against Mihail and take in his scent. He imagined Mihail's nose at the nape of his neck and his lips at his skin, murmuring reassurances and protective words ...

"I-I couldn't protect you.. I couldn't get to you..." he couldn't stop the wracking of his body and the sobs that triggered pain in his spine, "You would have already left to find me yourself.. I-I'm so weak... U-useless..."

Arvid was treated gently in the headquarters, Mihail's loss an obvious toll on his well being, considering the circles under his eyes and gauntness of his face. Many spoke to him personally, reminiscing on their first true loss from war as if Arvid had not already lost an entire team-- but he remained politely silent, always nodding and sighing.. He thanked them regardless, appreciative of the attempts.

Little sleep was allowed for himself most of the time-- often leading to long hours of silence and stillness from him when his body finally caught up in exhaustion.

However, that is when Mihail returned, weary and bloodied and absolutely rough in shape.

His return was the first news of the day Arvid woke up to-- even before he'd fully become awake enough to speak, he'd run after Mihail until he found him in his quarters, pained and shakily breathing. He spoke Arvid's name raspily, fingers brushing back his hair as Arvid's mouth trembled--

-- and then a whimper turned into a guttural sob, his shaking hands brushing back Mihail's knotted hair as he kissed his mouth so desperately. He only sobbed harder when Mihail spoke, trying to calm him down despite his exhaustion overtaking everything but slurred speech from him..

"I thought you were dead.. I-I wish I'd been there to help-- I-I'd been wishing I could have at least been there to die w-with you and not in this hell..."

After some time, Arvid's sobs and hiccups weakened, allowing him to rest his head on Mihail's chest-- the shaky rise and fall of his breaths reminded him that Mihail was alright.. He was safe.. His nose continued to run and his eyes to water, but he no longer sobbed so violently, one of his hands busy running over the metallic palm of his love's hand. He stayed, softly crying into his chest even when Mihail fell asleep, soon following suit, kneeling beside him and hands enveloped by his love's.

[ace-writes]

Rapture's horrors, both known and unknown, steered all those with sanity left to hide and never let their guards down regardless of how safe one may *feel.*

With that in mind, both Gal and Skipper found it silly of them to play in a body of water-- a harbor where all the fishermen and shipments would leave and enter when Rapture was still in business with parts of the surface.

Regardless of the dangers, they tried their luck after a few playful splashes from each other had happened.

"Alright, babe--" was enough for Gal to try and run, stopped by arms around her waist before Skipper jumped into the hip-high water. In any other situation she would have shrieked and laughed the whole way down-- however, survival instincts only let her yelp and fight to stand up, even if she knew Skipper wouldn't hurt her.

Soaked, Skipper beamed at Gal before she gave the lightest of playful smacks to his cheek, her own lips spread into a grin.

"Y'know," he inched closer, reaching out to brush her strands of hair out of her eyes. "I'm sure you looked beautiful with all that long hair before shit hit the fan... But I think your hair now is even more gorgeous."

"You're just saying that to get me into bed with you again," Gal joked, eyebrows raised and eyes half-lidded.

"Well, sounds like it's workin'," Skipper waggled his eyebrows before gently bumping forehead with her. "You know I'd say it regardless of that. It's true."

They nuzzled their noses together before sharing a slow kiss, Gal's arms around his neck. She leaned back to kiss the corners of his mouth and his jawline before twisting him to the side, dunking them both back into the water. Gal gave an excited shout when they got up again, her ears a bit red and her mouth the widest grin, "Now I know you were smooth, but kissing me underwater? Beyond smooth and romantic.."

Skipper seemed surprised, "You liked that huh? C'mere--"

"Wait, no! Forget what I sai--!!!"

[ace-writes]

Deep in the woods, he allowed his cloak to billow and brush against outreaching branches, breaking off some to make a clear-cut path.. He kept his hood down, allowing his hair to follow suit with his cloak, making his scent known for the entire trail.

Arvid even made sure to brush his palms against the trunks of trees and pushed against the grass once into the clearing his little home was built in. This time, he would not let the woods catch him.. This time, he would lead the other straight to his arms.

In the kitchenette of his small home, he stared at the ripples of the tea he brewed anxiously when there was no more steam to follow. His own mug was drained, the second sitting there-- he stared at the second mug as if it would move on its own and become the one he waited for.

Soon enough, he grew tired of waiting, too tired to refrain from nodding off. With so much time, he'd found himself accepting of whatever fate he may come across. Let it come.. Perhaps he will arrive sooner than them all.

Arvid awoke to rustling, creaking of the wood planks of his room-- he jumped, grabbing for a knife at his bedside before a familiar voice eased his anxiety.

"Birdie..." The familiar shadow sounded almost pained, his voice rumbling with pity and a very why did you do that? tone.

Arvid shifted away from the table to crawl across the bed, eager to brush his fingers through his lover's unruly hair, brush the heel of his palms over his facial hair, and kiss his lips eagerly--

Mihail broke their kiss with a quick click, however, his brow furrowed and head tilted slightly before bumping his forehead to his, "You have put your safety in danger.. That was stupid of you."

"Perhaps.." Arvid sat back on his bed, sitting on his feet as he looked up at the great man, "Though, who is to say this is any more dangerous than putting myself into the woods and growing lost while searching for you?"

"You shouldn't be searching for me in the first place.. I'm not worth your life, birdie," a sad humor seemed to cling to his rumbling words. "I'm not human like you anymore. I'm a beast like the others in there-- I'm just as dangerous.. Maybe even more so."

Arvid's jaw set at such words, unable to believe such lies nor keep quiet about how much he disagreed-- but he kept quiet for only a few seconds longer, occupying himself by reaching for Mihail's waist and curling his fingers in. With a bit of stubborn pulling, Mihail allowed himself onto the bed, climbing atop Arvid before settling beside him, still uneasy and stiff.

"You're no threat to me, Mihail," he cooed, arms slipping above his shoulders and hips shifting to press his body flush to his love's. "If anything, you're protection.. But that's not what I value most about you."

A long pause, a soft exhale, "You're my lover. I have led you to my home many a night now- we have made love and cried in each other's arms. There is no weakness we have not shared together. There is no weakness I do not trust you with and there is no weakness of yours I would ever refuse to love."

[ace-writes]

His breaths shuddered with pain, fingers smeared with his own blood and knees too weak to carry his weight when he released the mechanical bird with only two goals: Go home and tell Mihail.

Breaths grew laborious, fingers and toes were gloved with numbness, and Arvid could barely keep his head up as he tried to push himself against the trunk of a tree.

Wheezes grew weaker, his body moving with a great deal of effort when he inhaled-- he was losing hope just like he was losing his sight to starbursts and flashing waves, a sure sign passing out was rearing its head..

He'd forgotten where he was and how his arms and legs sat by the time he felt himself be lifted and pressed to warmth - his eyes were glazed over, his fingers cold from the crisp air, the warmest part of his body being the great gash he had earned.

Arvid barely recognized that he had even moved by the time he was tended to in that jet, unaware of the heavy and desperate stare from behind a doorway and that staring being's grumbles for his safety. He recognized nothing but the lights above him and the wiring of his glasses in his peripheral vision. And then he blacked out.

Arvid woke to the warmth of another's brow pressed firmly to his, fingers brushing back his hair, and the soft thrum of fluorescent lights. His eyelids fluttered, mouth opening and closing as if mouthing words, and Mihail pressed closer-- his palms cradled Arvid's jaw when he leaned in to, rather desperately, kiss his lips. Though dizzy and weak, Arvid kissed back with eyes remaining closed and hands over his lover's wrists. He smiled against the softness of Mihail's beard, "You got my message in time..."

[ace-writes]

"Oh, sweetheart..." Agnes cooes, hands eager to caress his face and brush back his hair.

Their eyes are warm, dilated alongside the flushness of their freckled skin and reddened lips-- there's a softness in their expression as they let him kiss them again, trailing down their adam’s apple, collarbones, the malnourished ridges of their ribcage at their chest...

"You really think I love any of you?"

He freezes, lips brushing the spot between their protruding ribs, hands tightening their grip at the curve of their spine and their hipbone. He says nothing, looking up only after a few moments.

Agnes bellows with laughter, unafraid of his growing scowl over their vulnerable body, "Oh, you are so *precious!* You thought you were special?"

[ace-writes]

Arvid felt odd.

Their entire world had flipped and here he was, nestled in Mihail's arms only a few weeks after joining Overwatch.

Never had he felt so comfortable pressed against someone, nor had he felt so close to another being before this-- he'd only come to Mihail for comfort, yet they ended with so much more.

They nuzzled close, kissed so softly. He'd never thought about how wonderful the softness of Mihail's beard felt on his skin, nor how pleasant his voice was when he spoke so softly and lovingly against his neck, shoulders, wrists, abdomen..

In the morning, Arvid woke up at the deep sigh and stretching of another before turning to look at a stirring Mihail pressed to him with heavy eyes. He could barely keep his eyes open, even when Mihail's gentle kisses deepened and grew a bit more fierce. Even sleepy, he eagerly tipped his head back for the warmth of his mouth at his throat and lingering at his collarbone for soft bites -- he didn't feel his mind pull itself from slumber until Mihail's mouth wandered lower.

Inexperienced, but so eager, Arvid scrabbled at the bedsheets, feet desperately trying to find a place to hold when Mihail took him whole. Arvid’s entire body was burning up and his heart was racing until he couldn't help the guttural and desperate noises leaking from his lips. Mihail's beard brushing the skin at his inner thighs and navel helped turn him more into a mess, squirming and fighting to keep from moving too much- though he still instinctively pushed towards the sweet warmth of his mouth.

By the time he'd finished, he was breathless and too flustered to speak or think-- he couldn't get Mihail's tongue out of his thoughts for long.

Mihail was quick to leave, returning after a quick rinsing; Arvid couldn't believe all that had happened between them in such a short amount of time.. Only a few days ago, they were sparring and smiling together, always ruffling the other's hair or trying to catch the other off guard-- and here they were, sleeping together, being sexually pleased, all without hesitation or fear..

As Arvid lifted himself back into a seated position, hands at his love’s thighs before raising to tease the elastic band of his boxers, he thought about their past fears of being caught and killed. Those fears were swept away for both of them when Mihail’s hands encouraged him further downward.

[ace-writes]

Guiding his dear champion into the comfort of Arvid’s own bedroom was no regret of his-- his only regret was keeping so painfully quiet about his interests for so long. Seeing such a great and powerful man in his own room struck the most gleeful shivers down his spine; this man, blood-lusting and merciless in combat, softened and relaxed under his loving affection, just as starved of affection as he.

Rough hands, most experienced with slippery blood and cracked bones, guided the silken fabrics he donned to the floor with gentleness he never could have imagined. How Mihail furrowed his brow as he kissed his hands, his shoulders, his collar-- all while brushing back the elegant clothing he wore like it was little more than a curtain -- he melted over it all.

Mihail’s bushy beard, just faintly scratchy when they kissed so desperately, felt so much softer when his kisses were accompanied with the warmest of sighs-- all he would think about that next day would be the soft touches of hair across his abdomen, his shoulder-blades, pivoting hips...

Though Mihail would kneel before him and give a husky "I am yours” before battles, Arvid could not keep soft moans of the same phrase to himself under Mihail’s affection.

[ace-writes]

Golden fingertips caressed Mihail’s skin, brushed across his lips, stained his beard with its gold dust. The coolness of silver was next, smeared across his cheekbones with the pad of his god's thumb, another line touching his bottom lip to his chin.

"There," Arvid sighed, eyes tired and mouth pursed in a line. He donned only silver smeared across his eyes and temples like a visor, the grey of his eyes fitting in well. "I never know if this will be the last time I see you."

Sorrow filled his words, ached in his chest even further when uttered aloud. Arvid's mouth trembled when his champion reached his hands out to hold his face, caress his skin, brush back his hair.

"I haven't yet, have I?" Mihail leaned in to kiss his god with care before freezing, shoulders quick to raise and head to lean away as if their kiss burned.

Arvid's mouth trembled, this time to refrain from laughing, "Do I have your war paint on my lips now?"

Mihail backed away, eyes downcast despite Arvid's lighthearted response, "A bit--!”

Arvid simply pressed close to hold his hands, stain his palms and fingers with silver and gold, comfortable with the slickness of the paint on his own mouth, “I don't mind at all-- I'll do anything for the mere touch of my dear champion..”

After savoring their kiss, breathing in the heat of his breath, touching foreheads with a beast of a man, he felt the high of their kiss settle. “...That paint is oddly bitter.”