Ugghh finals! Finally posting some stuff that ive been working on there will be smex at one point or another. I hope.

The two bluenettes battled brutally, their swords flashing in the sunlight. They panted, sweat flinging off them with every turn, every parry. The crowd oohed and aahed at the ability of the two swordsmen, Ike threatening and powerful, Marth swift and accurate.

No one, not even them, knew what was going to happen next. They moved on instinct, circling each other like wolves, darting forward to attack, back to defend, in a deadly dance to prove their skill. Everyone was on the edge of their seats; this was the championship match, to choose the winner of the entire competition.

Both the competitors had just one life left, though Ike had a bit more life. They could feel hundreds of eyes fixed on their movements, and both sweated a bit more, knowing how important the results were.

Ike was mesmerized. Marth was breathtaking when he fought. His hair swung in teal waves around his pale face, alight with concentration. His skin shone with his sweat, and his tunic clung to him, revealing his slim figure. His limbs moved faster than he could believe, and it was all he could do to keep up with his complex series of moves.

Ike felt clumsy and awkward compared to the angel in front of him, who moved like the rules of physics didn't apply to him: impossibly fast and startlingly light on his feet. He felt himself slowing down in response to the beauty in front of him, and he tried to shake himself out of the distraction of Marth; his full lips curved slightly upward, his flashing blue eyes narrowed in absorption, his willowy limbs swinging to violently clash swords with Ike again and again.

Suddenly Marth's curved into a victorious smirk, and he slammed his sword into Ike with all of his might. Ike was flung off the platform, his remaining life drained in one fell swoop. As he fell he saw Marth's face glowing with victory.

The lights dimmed, and suddenly everyone was running to Marth. He was engulfed, laughing and shaking hands. Then he, courteously, walked over to Ike and helped him to his feet.

"Good battle" he said, eyes shining in victory, trembling a bit at the sudden loss of adrenaline. All Ike could d was stand with his mouth open, gazing at the statuesque man in front of him. Marth's mouth opened slightly in confusion, and Ike found himself riveted on the parted lips. They were wet and inviting, and, maddeningly, Marth chose that moment to lick his lips.

An ear-splitting whistle broke his reverie. He grunted out "yeah. Good battle." Marth smiled and turned back to his admirers