warblest

[warblest]

ARTHUR PENDRAGON.

❝ ah — you — you won't hurt me.❞ kurt flushes peony-pink at saber's straightforward praise, his explanation, his knightly plea for further explanation and preparation, all in the service of his master, so as to better breach his body, for saber to impale him and for kurt to accept his offering. ❝ not if we go slowly.❞ he says shyly, in a hushed whisper, a plume of heat rising when the armor of saber's battle attire vanishes, remained by bare skin, rosy and cream-hued flesh, lean and muscled, yet not gnarled with scars from war.

❝ y - yes. it is — very much, to my taste. ❞ kurt manages to utter, a stupid response, youthful and hastening over his own words. his mouth is still wet and sticky with shared spittle, breath thinning and sharpening in shallows sips of anticipation, blood warming and gathering beneath his trousers, his boyhood giving a little twitch, soft still, yet desperate and responsive. ❝ you are so — very, very handsome, saber. and if this is for mana, o - or, for — courting — i'm nervous, a - and scared, but — ❞

he stumbles and fumbles over his words: he is losing his courage, his mettle, about to beg for the knight to clothe himself once more, but kurt cannot. he is struck with lust, boy-ache, horrible and deep, his slippery cock-head trembling gently in the confines of his underwear, spilling a smear of salt. kurt even whimpers, chestnut lashes long and fluttering, beginning to unbutton the column of buttons of his own layers: the blazer of his academy in charcoal and ruby, and beneath it, the pressed white button-down, loosening the tie knotted around his throat, but his belt and trousers remain wickedly restraining. kurt is abashed at being bare-chested, attempting to conceal the points of pale, ginger-pink nipples with crossed arms.

❝ you — you do know, how two men become intimate, don't you? ❞ he asks, softly. to prod and see if saber must be instructed. ❝ before yourself, you have to — push into me — with a finger, first. ❞ he confesses, a furious hue of scarlet. as he speaks, with his mouth pinched tight, as if citrus-sour in the height of summer, he struggles to unlatch the buckle of his belt. with the ringing of metal, it comes apart, leaving only his chalkboard-dark trousers, and the shameful protrusion from his lap —

kurt presses a hand down over the beginnings of his erection, miserable, ears scalding hot, even as he hooks two fingers into the elastic edges of his briefs, and twists and pulls them down to his knees, leaving him mortifyingly nude: bare and pale and lithe, with not an ounce of muscle, only youthful roundness beginning to thin out in adolescence, boyish pockets of babyish fat.

his knees are immediately pulled tight to his chest, knobby hands clutching at his shins, protectively curled into himself.

❝ saber. ❞ kurt says, in a whine, a plea, as if to lessen the burning embarrassment of the whole endeavor. ❝ before anything, just hold me, first. and go slowly — be gentle. ❞

A look of disbelief would display upon his features, mostly rejecting the concept of his Master being unworthy. The affection of a king is well deserved among all his people even if the King of Knights hadn’t seen his accomplishments that deserved blessed expressions. He only felt this sentiment around the other male, someone who managed to bring a joy he hadn’t felt for so long. The departure of those middle ages has left a hole in his chest…longing for the touch of a gentle soul. It’d be a first for Saber to experience an affectionate touch from another male, seeing how his era didn’t engage in these practices. He was willing to try when his heart yearned for the other since their first encounter. A caring soul managed to win this king over, uncertain if his master desired to let this knight to court him. “I could never consider you unworthy of my love, Master. You have delivered much to this knight…you are free to address me as a knight since my reign has ended long ago. I am but your humble servant and knight, Kurt.” A smile spread when witnessing those flustered cheeks burning — he truly depicted a cute complexion that was utterly endearing. Though such a strong appearance had brought a moment of weakness, reluctant to admit that he wouldn’t know how to please another male.

“Perhaps I need to prepare myself if we were to engage in sex, Master. M…Mostly from not knowing how to please another man. I wouldn’t want to hurt your body for our first time, but we can engage in such acts when we’re both ready. I do wish our first to be a special moment.” Saber grants an honest response as he imagines there will come a time when mana transfer would require them to exchange their bodily fluids. Fingers resume caressing his master’s cheek with care, yielding to the desire of taking things slowly. In time the King of Knights would become one with him…at least he hopes for it someday. It appeared the male wasn’t opposed to the ritual of courtship in the middle ages, ones that sought to woo a potential lover. He figured some things that were a favorite in Kurt’s eyes and desired to grant him some flowers the next day. Knights mostly favored in obtaining their lover in this manner, displaying their virtue and chivalry as well as the sacrifices they’re willing to make. “I’m grateful you would permit me to court you, Master.” The knight’s heart lit up with warmth inside his chest in between their first kiss. A soft touch left the blonde quite captivated when their lips pressed one enough, emitting his own flustered complexion.

Emerald eyes enclosed themselves to enjoy the sensation he felt but was caught off-guard when a tongue probed against his mouth. The startled King of Knights abided to his master’s wishes, letting the other’s tongue access inside his mouth. Moments passed by after engaging in this faint exchange of mana between them and parts slowly from the contact. Eyes stare intently at the male, letting small shivers escape behind his spine. This is what it meant to kiss another male…though he didn’t dislike it one bit. Being granted an order, Saber nodded slowly to comply to the request. Perhaps this armor wouldn’t be comfortable when they embraced one another. “Of course, Kurt.” Rosy hue continues to display upon his chests before stepping back, disrobing the armor in a snap. It vanished fairly easy with mana and revealed a very thin layer of clothing — it resembled shorts with no shirt against his chest. “I-I took knowledge of what a modern man would wear without armor and for the night. Is it to your taste, Master?”

[warblest]

BETTY COOPER 

where was his wife? his nose quivered at the scent of hay, bundles of straw, dried sweet grasses turned spring-green to molasses-brown, placed around the entraces to backyard mazes; he searched among the aluminum laundry-tubs sloshing with heavy, dark water and gleaming red-skinned apples bobbing as if scarlet buoys, scattered along the surface; he navigated around doting couples with caramel-sticky faces from candied apples, and costumed covens of shrieking child-witches, but nowhere could kurt find betty in the autumnal activities.

❝ betty? ❞ he called again, with increasing urgency, wincing, winded, and gasping by the time he made it to the duck pond booth, only to find her, at last: huddled against the stall, the pink of her skirt ruffled, pleats pressed between her thighs as she crouched, a letter clutched in her fingers. ❝ betty! ❞ he cries. ❝ you can't just disappear like that, you'll scare me! ❞

there is plenty to be scared of in the small town of riverdale, and it is not just monsters of the silver screen. no, they have their own suburban horror to contend with, sending vicious and vile love letters to his spouse. kurt frets, and worries, having pleaded with the police department to do something, with archie, with jughead, to help protect them. but he is, dishearteningly, the man of the house, the husband of the marriage. it's his responsibility to protect betty. no one is going to protect him.

he is so relieved to find her, whole and alive, not a pretty blonde thread of her ponytail harmed, that he almost feels like crying, a salt-heavy lump gathering in his throat, swallowing thickly, his gaze gleaming. he wants to gather her in his arms, hold her close, platonically kiss the crown of her head, the butter-hued locks of her hair. but rather, he sucks at the inside of one cheek, dour and boyish, nose crinkling in chastisement.

❝ please don't leave my sight again. not today. ❞ he says, more of a thin sigh, rather than a scolding. ❝ not with — e - everything going on. ❞

❝ ...what does the letter say? ❞ he asks, reluctantly, because he realizes why she has vanished on her own: to read the next horrible chapter in their nightmared novel. he leans over her, although she matches his height in her perfume-pink heels, a soft hand reaching out to tug at the corner of one page. ❝ let me read it. ❞

@warblest ♡'d for a starter;

The blonde was supposed to be enjoying the haunting festivities; bobbling for apples, ghoulish face painting, musical chairs, and fairground games. Instead, Betty Cooper found herself concealed behind the Duck Pond Booth, her quivering fingers working double time in an attempt to unseal a forbidden letter. The note had arrived just as she and Kurt were leaving the house, making it impossible for her to steal a moment to read the whispers left by her disturbed prowler. But with him distracted by the pie contest, she disappeared to indulge in her conflicting fixation. 'Dearest Betty, -'

[warblest]

"I thought we had agreed not to lie to each other." -Betty

BETTY COOPER 

❝ i didn't lie. ❞ his response is immediate, childish and prickling, shoulders rising as mitten arms come to cross over the front of his apron. it is ferociously hot in the kitchen, the oven wafting out the sweet scent of rising muffin-dough and dried strawberries and the almonds he had painstakingly crushed in a plastic baglet, much like his own heart — they're hosting brunch in but a few short hours, which is why kurt had started baking early, before the summer temperatures settle in for the day. he is flushed pink, from both fluster and bluster and the humid, cloying warmth of baking sweets, his face slightly sticky from perspiration, a bit of untidy boyishness about him that all of the fastened bowties and crisp sunday suits in the world cannot conceal.

❝ i didn't lie. ❞ he insists again, slipping off the quilted mittens, his hip thrust out to one side in an effeminate little gesture of defiance. ❝ just because you don't want to see the truth. that doesn't make it a lie. you knew — you must have suspected, from the beginning — that i don't like girls. ❞ there it is, the bald truth, uttered just between them. the rest of the neighborhood would be scandalized — he would be branded any number of names, but there are more pressing things than his fondness for gazing at jughead's sea-dark, bluish gaze and wan ivory complexion, or achie's handsome features and ginger fringe, aching to stroke his fingers through it.

❝ and what about you? ❞ he shoots back, with a vinegared tongue. ❝ have you gotten more letters from your admirer? ❞ his lip curls. the magazine cut-outs. the lewd pieced-together alphabet, assembled to form crude vulgarities and disturbing threats. she knows what he means. the packages she tries to hide from him.

[warblest]

❝ join you. ❞ kurt repeats, flatly, lips pressed together thinly. ❝ no. i'm too young. ❞ he refuses the alcohol, but he lingers, stepping around the stuffed, stiff chair, fingers dragging against tufted gold velvet. it is not his first time dealing with an intoxicated adult — he remembers his own father, drunk from earth-dark glass bottles and crushed aluminum cans of beers — but he feels his stomach wither at the sight of bedelia: the woman he is supposed to look to for guidance, the only person he could cling to, the odor of wood and dried spices on her mouth. ❝ but i can sit. ❞ he says, his tone brittle, dour. ❝ one of us has to be responsible. ❞ he gives her a sharp glance. but he does come to settle in the opposite seat: fussy and ornate and uncomfortable.

❝ and... ❞ he tries to approach the subject delicately, but there is no ginger way of bringing up the other man, his false father. ❝ why are you drinking this afternoon? did dr. lecter — ❞ he struggles to opaquely refer to the enormity of horrors they have both seen.

❝ is he cooking again? ❞ and the ingredients to those meals goes unsaid: the man's colleagues at the museum. irritating though they may be, snobbish and rude, that does not mean they deserve to become supper.

@warblest asked: ❛ indulge . find my muse drinking to cope . (bedelia) - meme

bedelia is not the type to give up, even when it feels like everything around her is falling apart. she's been through far too much, seen too much, for this to be her undoing. she lifts the glass of scotch to her lips, downing nearly all of it in one go before setting it down. she hears his footsteps behind her then, and without turning, bedelia clears her throat and speaks. ❝ would you like to join me? ❞ she's a psychiatrist, after all; talking is good for you.

[warblest]

BEDELIA DU MAURIER.

italy is utterly gorgeous, scented with ripe oranges and sea salt and the umami pungency of fresh wriggling fish; his life is composed of evenings at the opera and being taken along to morbid museums, although during the day he is cloistered in their apartment, away from the public, enrolled in schooling through private tutors. kurt is clumsily learning italian, and he can manage some small conversations; he even continues to practice singing. but all of the oil paintings and food tastings and choir lessons in the world cannot wipe away the nauseating film of ruby blood that tinges each moment, since their false family was fostered by a murderer. a serial killer. a cannibal. ❝ what i signed up for! ❞ kurt aches to scream, but his voice is trembling too much for that, emerging as more of a strangled cry. ❝ how was i supposed to say no! ❞

his therapist had come to his residency one dark miserable rain-soaked evening, with dr. lecter, his three-piece suit stained pink with fresh blood. and he hadn't resisted when they took him. how could he have? and then the airplane ride — first class, he had drank sparkling apple juice rather than champagne, too young — and then a brief visit to paris — even in terror he could appreciate it, practicing his french — and then the museum curator, along with his wife and son, had vanished. and lecter served the both of them heart tartare. ( kurt can no longer stomach meat, during suppers he merely picks at his gold-rimmed antique plate, nibbling morsels of roasted vegetables. even that feels as if a feast; he had stopped eating altogether for a few meals, before lecter forced-coaxed him to eat. )

he makes an ugly sound, a bitter laugh. ❝ confused? i saw you taking your medicine, mother. if anyone's confused, it's not me. ❞ he hates calling her that, and she knows it; now he uses the maternal term as if a small, sharp knife, his tone poisonous; but it just as immediately crumbles, bright with hurt and boyish anguish. ❝ you said i could eventually go home. but if lecter is caught — ❞ they will all be under suspicion.

@warblest asked: ❛ revelation . show my muse evidence of a lie they told . ( bedelia ) - meme

even when caught, bedelia is not one to admit defeat. they'd taken kurt with them, had come up with the story of him being their son, and they'd given him everything. for him to throw this in her face nearly pushes the carefully curated woman over the edge, but she breathes in deeply and then exhales. ❝ i think you're confused, dear boy... you know what you signed up for when you agreed to come with us. ❞

[warblest]

𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences on this memes are taken from different sources of literature, television and media about enemies to lovers trope and enemies and lovers trope with some angst thrown into the mix. Change pronouns, names and locations as you see fit.

Does it hurt? Loving someone who can’t love you back?

Break his crown, break his throne, rip his monarchy apart.

What are we doing?

You are capable of making my blood boil like no one else, and yet I feel a magnetic pull I cannot explain.

It’s not natural for someone to be as stupid as he is tall, and yet there you stand

Like whether you should kiss me or punch me.

Most of all, I hate you because I think of you. Often. It’s disgusting, and I can’t stop.

You make me feel things that shouldn’t exist. 

Whatever this is, we should stop. I have been. . .compromised.

There’s a fine line between love and hate, and maybe we crossed it a long time ago.

I never thought I could detest someone so much, until the day I realized I was falling in love with you.

We may fight like enemies, but deep down, we both know that our hearts beat for each other.

You infuriate me, challenge me, drive me crazy, but damn it, at the end of the day, I can’t resist you.

It’s that tension that makes this so irresistible.

You’re like an addiction I can’t break free from, even if I wanted to.

You’re the thorn in my side, the fire in my veins, and I can’t help but crave your presence in my life.

Loving you feels like a dangerous game.

You infuriate me, yet you’re the only one who truly understands me.

You scare me to my core.

There’s no denying the fire that burns between us.

If any two men desire the same thing, which nevertheless they cannot both enjoy, they become enemies.

I thought we had agreed not to lie to each other.

Tell me you don’t feel this between us. Look at me and don’t look away while saying it.

You claim me your enemy and yet, let me crawl into your bed every night.

You are the bane of my existence, and the object of all my desires.

Do you even know all the ways a lady can be seduced? The things I could teach you.

I did not asked for this. To be plagued by these feelings.

I tried to deny it for so long, but I don’t want to anymore.

Follow me around. Look at me as if you find me fascinating. Touch me, and say nice things to me. And then, you pull away as if you did nothing at all.

There’s no need for these games.

Well, you know that old saying, “Keep your friends close and make out with your enemies.

You read me wrong.  I wasn't trying to lead you on.

Is that all I am to you? A resource to be used in your scheme?

Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything more than you wanting me to fuck you, okay? You make that really clear all the time. But I just- I can't do it tonight, okay?

 You'll lay a man out for implying I'm a whore, but you keep calling me one to my face.

So, the only man that can have you is one who's already tried to kill you. That's logic.

It's like a little death. Several, in fact.

Oh Max, if you really hated Kyle you couldn't have slept with him.

So go on... kiss me... kill me... Do something.

I've often wondered what this moment would be like. Me... you tied up. 

Once this is over, we should really have angry sex.

Hate and love are not so very different things. Both are focused upon another. Both are intense. Both are passionate.

It just means you'd rather be with someone you hate... than be with me.

She's difficult and irritating, and she tries to hit me all the time.

We have a deal, what are you so afraid of?

Only I can hurt you this way. Only I can kiss you like this. 

You dragged me down and now I can’t quit you. 

This is the last time we do this.

Last night was also the last time. And yet, you keep coming back.

Better my mouth than my knife, right?

[warblest]

𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences were taken from different sources about romance, marriage and specially arranged marriage and what that entails. Mentions of affairs, mistresses, wedding ceremonies and medieval talks of what marriage entails follow. Change names, pronouns and locations however you see fit.

Marriage is a marriage, whether it is arranged or not. Both necessitate the same level of dedication.

It’s not an option to be best friends with your life partner; it’s a requirement for a firm foundation in a long-term relationship.

Arranged marriage is not always a bed of roses, but it is possible to achieve with love and faith.

It’s different for women, isn’t it? They have no choice where they go. They grow up in a prison and then get married into one.

Is there anything more courageous/stupid than saying yes to spend your life with someone you have no idea about?

The country was as much of a mystery to me as the man I had married.

One day you’ll be in love with me.

You could be a titled lady. 

I have avoided the fate my father had planned for me. Surely it is I who has won, not he.

I do not care about power and wealth, father. I want to marry for love.

But if you were matched, what do you think she'd be like?

We're supposed to be unable to keep our hands off of each other. 

In this case the time is not so important for me, the person asking for commitment is.

We are trapped by convention and must marry another.

Every good child knows: duty before your heart's desire.

I am to be a bride, but whose? 

I married you to stop the bloodshed, and you keep killing. When will it be enough- when?

I found out soon after we met that Leah’s father had promised her in marriage to some young Pole.

If I ever get into an arranged marriage, I want it to be like theirs.

Arranged marriages require effort; constantly and every day. And where there is love, you want to make these efforts.

A successful arranged marriage can help climb the biggest mountain and build the biggest empire.

An arranged marriage is like wine; it tastes good with time.

You will marry him and do your duty to your House.

You are my daughter and you will do as I say. End of discussion.

Love? What does love have to do with marriage?

He'll honour his duty to family and swallow it.

I was three when my parents promised me. When a deal was struck. 

 So I was raised to be his wife. I was taught my favorite color was gold because his favorite color was gold. I was told my favorite foods were his favorite foods

I never thought what it would actually be like to have him... be gone. 

I was raised for him, and now I am... new. I am brand-new. And I do not even know how to breathe air he does not exhale.

A bride at her second marriage does not wear a veil. She wants to see what she is getting.

Marriage is a financial contract; I have enough contracts already.

The dowry, not the wife, is the object of attraction.

Arranged marriages work like this. The girl is hardly asked and is expected to follow whatever her parents deem fit.

Marry, that marry is the very theme I came to talk of.

Maybe she'll be beautiful. Maybe she'll be rich. As long as she brings swords and men.

Perhaps love is a minor madness.

It doesn't matter who the seed is. The important thing is that it has a place in your womb.

Her maidenhood will seal an alliance and must be kept safe.

Every married woman knows a man can have mistresses and we must look the other way.

All I ask is, that you do not cast me aside. Have mistresses and lovers as you please, but confide in me as I am to be your wife.

A husband’s first and foremost job in a marriage is to protect and love his wife.

Touching without looking had been incredibly arousing.

In my opinion, most marriages are based either on money or the fear of being alone.

I want you in every way there is to want. I want you in any way you choose to share.

I'm free to do with my wife as I fucking please.

The marriage of convenience lasts until you become an inconvenience.

Ours is a marriage of convenience and nothing more.

From now on, you're sleeping in our room. There's no chance in hell I'm letting you sleep far away from me again.

You agreed to this marriage and didn’t even dare to ask my opinion on the matter.

You're going to bend, and so am I. We're going to compromise, negotiate, and distract each other.

Being together means our priorities are going to change.

Men marry because they are tired; women, because they are curious: both are disappointed.

I don't think I am likely to marry, Harry. I am much too in love.

It is certainly romantic to be in love, but there's nothing romantic about a definite proposal.

They are royals, whoever they marry is not their choice but who is better for the crown.

That is a match made in a boardroom.

Once you are wed to another, you will forget me. 

I will marry a man who desires me but I have no interest in. 

I will not be a secret kept in shadows. Once you are wed, I will leave.

How can I marry them, when I am in love with another? It is not fair to them, that I think of you when I’m with them.

Ever since I met you, no one else has been worth thinking about.

Behave yourself, out here, we are wed and what you do, reflects on me.

You are being sold like a mare and do not care.

Once I bore him a son, he shall be happy, I know it.

We hate one another but for peace, we must wed. At least, let us enjoy this part of the contract.

I am doing this for my family and for the terms you offer.

A marriage is simply an alliance.

All will be well, love can be found in a marriage. If not love, at least, good company. 

Do your duty and give him sons.  That’s all men want.

I will not be paraded around in a bedding ceremony. I will wed them and bed them, but I will not be humiliated. 

You think this title gives me power, but you forget, I am a woman.

I am lucky enough to have options. None who please me but at least, I can choose one.

Come to bed now, husband. It is our wedding night, after all.

[warblest]

ARTHUR PENDRAGON.

❝ no — it has nothing to do with you being worthy, saber. ❞ kurt protests, bewildered as to how his companion could regard himself so lowly. ❝ if anything, i'm not the worthy one — i don't deserve the love of a king. ❞ someone so brave and noble and chivalrous, royalty of gold and midas, treasure dust and coins. saber deserves to have a much more befitting and eager lover, not the boy he is bound to by the whims of fate.

he blushes still jejune pink, splotches of petal-hued color reaching his ears and cheeks and throat: he has always been reluctant when it comes to the subject of physical intimacies and amorous love. but how could he explain himself, when saber seems to misunderstand his shy hesitancy to be begrudging revulsion : it is about the act itself, not the participating partner. ❝ i — i wouldn't be opposed — to sex — if i were — prepared. ❞ he says, slowly, but it seems as if he is trying to muddle through the other's intent, rather than pronouncing his own. it still seems too frightening, too soon, too much, too filthy. but if it's for saber —

❝ ah. ❞ kurt trembles, gasping, at the feel of lambskin-gloved fingers against his spring-warm cheek, the material roughened yet worn down to butter-yielding leather. ❝ c - court me? ❞ saber truly is almost a fairy-tale knight, sword and armor and all, and kurt's girl-long lashes flutter. ❝ i can't — can't think of anything i want more. if you would have me. ❞

after all, he may not have confessed it, but he has loved saber from the beginning.

his heart is rabbiting, aching in his chest, fingers quivering as he draws nearer. their lips mere centimeters apart, his breath a warm perfume against the man's mouth. watching as saber's meadow-green gaze closes, waiting, obedient — kurt leans in, and very gingerly brushes the pucker of his lips against the other. another. another. until he is properly kissing, mouth slipping and pressing desperately against the seal of saber's lips. he is still an adolescent, plagued by desire and lust. he very tentatively opens his mouth, easing his tongue outwards for the tiniest of laves against that closed mouth, to urge saber into doing more.

he halts only for a drawing of shuddering breath, with the sticky sound of spittle parting between their mouths. ❝ won't you take off your armor? ❞ he asks, in a hoarse whisper. ❝ if we're going to...come, together. ❞ an unfortunate choice of words.

much about this ritual is necessary if he wanted to continue being a knight who could retain his physical body. Servants are mere ghosts of past heroes, leaving the King of Knights a shadow of his former self in the glory days. He had come to terms with this as many Heroic Spirits do when they’re recorded in the Throne of heroes. But some had retained their memories…at least from what he gathered by others, whereas someone like him could lose them. Heaven knows how many times Saber had been summoned to participate in a holy grail war and perhaps summoned for a different purpose. If magic resided in the universe, it isn’t impossible with the right relic as a catalyst. All of this was mana related though it seems his Master is quite flustered about the thought of performing a mana transfer. Maybe it’s not to the male’s interest to see a sword like himself as worthy, or it could be complicated. Emerald eyes resumed staring and didn’t falter with what was spoken — any type of bodily fluids was acceptable. So long as the essence of his Master could be detected, then it should work. Cheeks only change in a red complexion due to understanding that the best source was either semen or blood. Both worked since it was a direct connection to the body of a master, but it seemed to be difficult to approach as decent. Arthur simply gave a small nod to confirm what Kurt couldn’t complete. Ironically, all the other options seem to draw their boundaries around his Master. The chivalric king prayed he hadn’t unintentionally insulted the one he viewed as his world.

“whatever you feel is the best option, I will abide by it. I understand if this is disturbing to perform before a Servant like myself, though it must be done if we can hope to fulfill your wish.” Performing sexual deeds was one proposal Arthur couldn’t say he was opposed to, though it would be a first to perform in this era. His own era would not take kindly to such deeds since religious aspects had viewed them to be a sinful act against God. The King of Knights still held back from enacting anything…residing on one knee, awaiting what they would do. He wouldn’t crave to see a cut applied to such a delicate finger for blood to be granted — it’d hurt the king to see any injury on that form. Relieving himself into a cup was…an odd one, mostly because he would be honored to grant the other his mouth. In between their exchange was nothing more than Saber delivering an intense gaze but with gentleness in its wake. He could see his Master displaying an unusually weakened state, one that masked the inner desires of the flesh lying within. The concept of romance was forbidden between Master and Servant due to the hero vanishing as a transparent memory. It won’t be long until the other would forget him, seek out another lover in years of his remaining lifespan. He simply was a tool to be used and later tossed to the side. This is precisely why he’d permit his body to become a vessel, in the hopes it’ll make Kurt’s wish be fulfilled. Being told the reason for this hesitation has brought a mixed feeling into the king’s chest. Relief and concern were displayed towards these words about not being prepared for their activity of mana transfer. “Then…I am worthy in your eyes. That brings me joy how you would not be opposed should you be prepared, Master. I truly am honored.” A heart skipped a beat to his broad chest even if the armor remains attached, yet he can’t deny being concerned as well.

words were paused when the king is met with their distance closing which provokes a blush to form on his own cheeks. It’s been so long since another person drew near like this, especially with the King of Knights. “K…Kissing…” The last one these lips have touched were his beloved queen Guinevere though rosy lips were also stolen by one of his knights, alas. His Master displays an erotic form…all while maintaining a virgin state to the blonde’s eyes. If they were to become this evening, then Saber would do his best to make it gentle. He couldn’t deny the sudden curiosity for what would happen when their lips touched one another for a moment — maybe a little longer. For that, Arthur delivers a subtle nod before resting one of his gloved hands against the boy’s cheek. Few caresses are granted just to ease that nervousness surfacing in between that hand going dangerously close to his knee. Arms would wrap around this thin body of his Master’s, but he decided to allow the movement from proceeding. “We could simply kiss if the act of sex is too grand. And…I do desire to properly court you before we can explore each other’s bodies. Master, if you permit me to kiss you then this may be our means of mana transfer.” Gentle eyes enclose themselves to await the kiss of his Master as this Servant belonged to him to do as he pleased.

[warblest]

Send ' 🌌 + a universe / au ' and I’ll make an AU verse based off of it.

multimuses, please specify a muse.

[warblest]

[warblest]

[warblest]

Congratulations to the First Kiss for reestablishing its superiority as The Kiss of All Time. And thanks to all of you for your passion and your weird choices along the way. ❤️ Gifs by @klainegifs

[warblest]

looks like a solo tonight

inspired by @warblercore's candles posting

[warblest]

Protecting something that is very precious to me.

[warblest]

WHAT KIND OF LOVE ARE YOU?

Love as the Dawn

Pastel, saccharine and hopeful, your love rises slow to greet the day. It tiptoes on doe feet and blossoms bit by bit, petal by petal. Love is new to you, isn’t it? A fresh discovery in a world you do not quite understand. Your love loves with bated breaths. Your love swoons and sighs and lingers under awnings. Your love romanticizes. Your love aches as tenderly as a bruise. You’re swollen with desire and idealizations. The perfect kiss, the perfect touch, the perfect partner in life. Your love is wide-eyed and innocent, naive and pristine and oh, so very easily breakable. Being loved by you is to be loved by a child, by a lamb, wooly-eyed and helpless. Oh. I really hope it lasts.

tagged by: @fallesto

[warblest]

★; addressing the elephant in the room sentence starters.

—  “i didn’t mean to look, but you left your phone unlocked and—” — “so… are we not gonna talk about whatever you just nudged under the bed?” — “you have enough for food, right?” — “if things get really dicey, i can lend you enough to get you through the week.” — “promise me you won’t go looking for work in unsavory places.” — “really? [name], of all people?” — “you two were a thing?” — “how come i’ve never met your parents?” — “have you told your parents?” — “have you told [name]?” — “i’m not about to interrogate you, but whatever you’re getting up to… it’s nothing you can’t handle, right?” — “are those bruises?” — “first, we’re going to dress that wound. then you’re going to tell me what—or who—gave it to you.” — “lately, you’ve seemed a little… off.” — “i get that you’re upset, but i think you need to take it down a notch.” — “what happened back there?” — “that wasn’t like you at all.” — “just because someone hurt you doesn’t mean you get to turn around and hurt other people.” — “it might be time to call it quits.” — “don’t take this the wrong way, but you aren’t looking too good.” — “have you always been this pale?” — “did you sleep a wink last night?” — “when’s the last time you ate?” — “you were right to say something, but you didn’t need to pile it on like that.” — “you don’t think you took that way too far?” — “whose ashes are these?” — “whose shrine is this?” — “who’s standing next to you in this picture?” — “did the guest room belong to somebody?” — “i know this is uncomfortable for you, but that’s no reason to treat everyone the way you have been.” — “that smell… you’re not back to your old habits, are you?” — “is everything okay? i’m hearing lots of background noise.” — “what happened to that ring you always used to wear?” — “it’s sweltering. what’s with the long sleeves?” — “was this broken the last time i came over?” — “where’d this hole in the wall come from?” — “i wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, or anything, but the door was wide open.” — “were you crying?” — “you never mentioned having a sibling.” — “[name] used to be all you talked about.” — “[name]’s still got your heart in a vice grip, huh?” — “i don’t stand a chance against [name], do i?” — “was it something i said?” — “you know i’m always going to be on your side, but you’re not making it easy.” — “i don’t mean to pry. i’m just worried.” — “i didn’t realize you’d have such a strong reaction.” — “the fact that you were feeling angry is a reason. it’s not an excuse.” — “this isn’t working.” — “you know this isn’t sustainable, don’t you?” — “i didn’t want to say anything when it happened, but i noticed [pronoun] used a different name for you.” — “should i use those pronouns around other people too?” — “are they cool with you know what?” — “what prompted the wardrobe flush?” — “i’ve never seen you off your game like this.” — “rooting through your garbage honestly wasn’t on my itinerary, but… did you mean to toss this?” — “who was that, anyway?” — “what did [pronoun] say to you?” — “what did [pronoun] do?” — “is [pronoun] treating you right?” — “did you mean it when you said you were okay with this? because it doesn’t really seem like you are.” — “that wasn’t very mature of you.” — “so you lied.” — “why are you so afraid of being honest with me?” — “did i do something to make you feel like you can’t set any boundaries? or was it someone else?” — “trust doesn’t come easy for you, does it?” — “no one can help if you don’t let them.” — “change doesn’t necessarily need to be a bad thing, you know.” — “maybe it’s for the best.”

[warblest]

when it gets hard || sentence starters.

"hey. you look tired. you alright?"

"something wrong?"

"look. i can tell you're not feeling great. want to talk about it?"

"i won't leave you. not now, not ever."

"it's okay to rest. i'm right here."

"sometimes your brain will lie to you and tell you bad stuff, but it's not true. it's never as bad as it seems."

"it will be okay. i promise."

"hey, it's alright to let it out."

"you hide behind that facade so much. why?"

"you're not going to leave me, right?"

"want to do something stupid to take your mind off all this?"

"we'll live. we'll live, both of us will, please believe me!"

"don't do this. it's not good for you."

"we will survive and afterwards, we'll... get some ice cream. or go to a nice restaurant."

"i don't know if anyone has ever told you this, but it gets better. it will get better, i promise."

"do you have anyone who supports you? do you have anyone who cares about you?"

"can i have a hug?"

"maybe it's not okay right now. maybe it won't be for a while. whichever it is, i won't leave you."

"hey, stay for a while. i gotta share this popcorn with someone."

"sleep fixes a lot of stuff. it's like emptying garbage cans in your brain."

"stay with me, please?"

"follow my breathing, okay? in for one, two, three, four... hold for one, two, three, four... out for one, two, three, four."

"let's go for a walk together. where do you wanna go?"

"there - you can cry. it's okay. i would never judge you for that."

"it doesn't matter what you say or do, i won't let you be sad alone."

"i'm your friend, idiot. i'm not going to abandon you."

"don't just repress everything! that's dumb, and it'll hurt your brain."

"if you need a breath of fresh air or a change of scenery, i know a place we can go."