[favoredlance]

— Lia, 20s, bisexual; @kisseism – main

✮⋆˙ sideblog for knight x princess!posting

[blanchebees]

Emotional support knight

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[bewbin]

dude honestly shout out to my guards i told them to seize this guy and before i could even finish my sentence they soze him. My goats

[favoredlance]

thinking about princess in a transparent lavender gown, so sheer anyone who entered her bedchamber would be able to see everything from her nipples to her belly to her cunt and then her legs. and she'd also be wearing jewellery beneath: thin golden chains to accentuate everything else.

[ser-william-the-third]

Prince who has a 25-step regime before going to bed and their favorite sworn knight who thinks pampering means using lotion reblog if you agree.

[faefemfair]

Knights are so precious the first time that they lay with you.

They are paradoxically dripping with need and frozen for fear of offending their charge. You've seen them strike terror in hearts of men and monsters twice your size. And yet, before you, they shake like a dog with the sheer effort of their restraint.

But, Lord, are they ever obedient. If you command them to forget themselves, you'll have the chance to see your most decorated protector turn into a feral beast intent on wringing every morsel of pleasure their beloved can provide.

[knightclubbing]

imagine how good it would feel to get your scalp or back scratched with gauntleted hands

[gauntlyt]

thinking about characters who seethe quietly and look calm as anything when they step forward like a bow string pulling taut and their complement, always at their side, who recognise that rage and grab their shoulder or arm to hold them back. "hey, easy now." a dog with much more bite than bark and the hand that holds and heels them, tugging on the leash. softly saying their name to try to bring them back to themself, an anchor and a warning in that most familiar of voices. goddamnit

[0xy--m0r0n]

its so amusing to me that we've kind of all collectively decided knights are like dogs

[lamb-slaughtered]

[gauntlyt]

princess tending to their wounded knight. knight brushing off their concern, insisting that really he's fine, but the order of bedrest is driving him mad with boredom. the princess kindly offers to entertain him. the knight, flirt that he is, makes some sly joke. "entertain at a lot of bedsides, do you, your highness?" it was a mindless little jest, he expected maybe a blush or a scoff. but no, the princess tilts their head sweetly and replies with easy confidence. "no, not really. I'm much more entertaining in bed." the knight nearly swallows his tongue. his bravado pales to a sheepish, nervous grin. even flustered, though, he's curious. "have you ever entertained a knight before?" they blink slowly, raking a gaze up and down his form, and suddenly he feels so on display with the blankets folded at the waist and his bloodied and bandaged torso exposed to the air. their gaze lingers at his hips and he fights against a rising twitch. they chuckle. "I find knights endlessly amusing," they answer. "hounds, many of you. all bark... but good little toys when you're reminded of your place." they're eyeing his bandages now as hungrily as they eyed the growing tent under the blankets. suddenly the knight feels like a rabbit wirh a foot in a snare being sized up by a fox. still, when they speak, its the voice of an angel, calm and feather-soft. "would you like me to rid you of that dreadful boredom, sir knight?"

[blanchebees]

How to silence thy knight

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[kisseism]

Princess who's really possessive about her knight because she has never had anything she could call hers. Everything either belongs to the Crown or is for the Crown. But her dear knight who's so eager to follow her every whim? Who gladly kneels to her and does whatever she wants before she even says a word? His devotion belongs to her.

Knight who's a feral guard dog is more than happy to indulge his princess' every desire, even the ones she's oblivious to. The princess is to be a virgin on her wedding knight but he highly doubts that either of them will be satisfied with his tongue alone until that happens. It's a shame how greatly he cares about her reputation. They're always together, it would be catastrophic if the princess' first born had his face.

[callipygianblockhead]

These could be the same if we try hard enough.

[favoredlance]

You're a knight, her sworn sword. But doesn't she look pretty while sleeping? It's not fair. That stupid prince is going to marry her but what of you? She doesn't even like him, how many times have you heard her complaining about their betrothal?

It's not fair but you're her knight. Your duty is to protect her from harm, the princess should never be at the other end of your sword. It doesn't matter which sword. She does look pretty while sleeping, doesn't she? Lips lightly parted, chest rising and falling; you can even see her nipples poking through her nightgown. Is she teasing you? Certainly not, how would she know her obsessive dog would be watching her sleep?

You are supposed to be protecting her. But now the featherbed is bending underneath your weight. You didn't even think it through, what are you going to think with that heavy armor? What a horrid thing that the only thing stopping an anointed knight to protect his princess's innocence.

[atomicgaystation]

reminder that if you ever meet a sweet, morally good, chivalrous knight: it's your most sincere obligation to corrupt them. "but my vows," this, "this is against the rules," that. if you haven't completely fucked up their entire code of conduct and destroyed all ability to discern right from wrong without you being the one to tell them by the time you're done with them, then you need to up your game. inside that pretty, rule-following chained dog of a knight is someone yearning to be set free of their self-imposed shackles, and it's your duty to help them get there.

[roryrogue]

Know that a knight is an animal. Each and every one. As long as that armor is on, and in some cases, even when it is off, rest assured that a knight is a beast.

They may be a hound, heeling readily to your hand, devoted without question and unrelenting in love, only pulling at their leash out of sheer excitement to carry out your noble will. They may be loyal to their own fault, as a hound knows it's place, takes it's honor in devotion, death is nothing compared to forsaking you, and they look it fearlessly in the eye, teeth bared. Those same eyes that see you with nothing but adoration, reverence, even, and those same teeth that would never so much as graze your perfect form, unless, of course, you command it. As any command from you may as well be a mandate from heaven, and thy will be undoubtedly done.

They may be a bird of prey. They may be still, and silent at your side, gaze pinned on the others, judging and nervous. Their helmet may be their hood, dark and comforting as it narrows their focus unto either you, those that may harm you, or those you have mandated be harmed, the only three things worth focusing on. They may resent the goings of royals, they may only be tethered by their own will, understanding that you provide them with easier opportunities to hunt, to feed, than would come from erranthood. And as such, they may be territorial, as you are the center of their hunting grounds, and they may not be keen on sharing. And you should not keep them from it, for the falconer balances a fickle bond on their blade's edge, but for better or worse, little will dislodge them from the nest of steel and satin they construct around you.

Or, worst of all, they may be a wolf. They may be a wild thing, scarcely bound by their oath, and moreso to their fellows. They will not heel to you, nor anyone else. They may return ragged and bloody, and refuse your hand. They may snap, growl, pace the halls on moonlit nights, stand hungry outside your quarters. They may kill without grace, guard you without decorum, pledge without honor. They may bristle as you reach for their battered steel, and one day, they may let you. They may let you, and they may let 𝘺𝘰𝘶. Not your crown, not your gold, and not your divine right, but you, and you alone.

The only armor against man's facade is the appearance of a human being. Clad in shape-dementing armor, a knight is an animal, just as man is without it.