This is mostly an rp blog and you may call me Knight Captain Thorn. I'm bi but mlm leaning, mid 20s, he/him pronouns.
You're allowed to yes-and or reimagine my text posts in any way you like, just don't put words in my mouth. You're allowed to take inspiration from my pics or use them as reference, but please try to preserve the vibe I was going for.
I don't have a specific canon world, personality remains mostly consistent but posts don't follow any particular timeline or setting. Open to rp with anyone in the medieval fantasy ecosystem.
Feel free to hit me up any way you'd like.
#knight kink = nsft/suggestive posts
Kinks under cut
Updated: July 8th 2026
Dom/Top Sadomasochist, theoretically Switch/Verse but dom/top unless explicitly stated otherwise. Happy to play with sides too. Dming me to discuss potential/ongoing rps is not only welcomed but encouraged. Nothing is sexier than mature conversations about your desires and limits.
Likes: Painplay, Service, Body Worship, CNC, Bondage, Religious play, Denial, Chastity, Blood.
Open to most things though, if you've got something specific ask me and I'll probably be down. Trust me, your embarrassing kink is not going to faze me in the slightest.
Dislikes: Dom breaking, manipulation (of me), overly rude/condescending bratting.
You may treat my genitals like cis male genitals and refer to them using terms like penis, dick, cock, etc.
Battle of Castillon, July 17, 1453, Charles-Philippe Larivière, 1839
At the Battle of Castillon, the last major clash of the Hundred Years War, English forces under John Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, were cut to pieces by massed French artillery. Talbot and his son were both slain. This painting depicts the moment of Talbot's death (inaccurately--in fact he was unarmored, due to a vow he had taken several years before).
The ball has long since started once I make my way to the ballroom. Music, polite laughter and clinking glasses flow out of the softly lit room, muffled by the rich draperies around the entrance. Even knowing this was my destination, I couldn't bring myself to come entirely unarmed. My blade hangs familiar at my hip, and my hands stay safe cocooned in my gauntlets.
I'm not exactly nervous, but there's an unease building in me. Not only am I entering a strange new environment full of unknown threats and rules, but one I left suddenly with no explanation. I've already written my reports of the ongoing conflict to the royal highnesses of Eridanus; I needn't justify my absence to anyone else.
But, I am here to play nice, am I not? Perroy's advice had been to give a gentleman where a monster is expected, and I'm not fool enough to disregard his words.
I scoff at my own cowardice. No challenge has been overcome through hesitation. I straighten my back, and enter.
It's a little while before Perroy notices Thorn, busy as he is, but once he's noticed him he can't stop noticing him. Their little tryst the other day had ended positively, however... questionably it had begun. But Perroy had also rushed off at the end of it, and they hadn't spoken since. Not doing so now would, he suspected, communicate a message he wasn't intending to send.
And more to the point, Thorn looks uneasy. Perroy recognises the look - he's seen it before on men stepping onto an unfamiliar battlefield, one fought with soft fabrics and whispers. He sighs, and makes his way over.
"Captain Thorn. You do clean up rather well. Whoever you chose to dress you for the event did a good job." He nods faintly in approval. "The first impression is half the battle."
The Chancellors face remains unreadable as ever, even as he compliments me. I assume it must have been genuine, seeing as my prince had said the same, but it's an assumption all the same.
"Thank you, Chancellor, my prince took me to his personal tailor." I realize I don't know if that's normal, and make a note to ask Dorian about it.
"How have these last few days treated you?" I crack a little smile beneath the mask. I admit the memory of Perroy trapped and moaning beneath me is rather comforting, but I remind myself that we are in his field now. Whatever power I held then means little here.
"Kind of your prince to do so," Perroy says with a nod. "Clearly they are skilled."
The mention of the last few days does prompt the faintest of flushes to race upwards from his neck, and he raises his chin slightly. "They've treated me well enough. I've found myself rather busy. And you?"
There's a slight pause, but I can't tell what it means. Hesitation? Anger? Embarrassment? Perhaps a little flush to his neck, but that might as well be an excuse to keep staring at it.
I shake my head. I'll figure it out later.
"Rather busy would be right here too. The royal highnesses of Eridanus heard of the potential invasion, and I got new orders to investigate the safest option for Prince Dorian. To leave immediately or wait until the smoke clears. They are rather protective of him." As am I, but I keep that part inside. The break was appreciated, but I rather glad to be back as his guardian.
Perroy grimaced faintly, nodding. "Unfortunate, but I can't argue with the wisdom with an army camped on the doorstep," he said, voice deliberately low enough for only Thorn's ears. Achieving that necessitated taking a step closer. Talking privately during a busy social gathering was always a challenge.
Of course, there were ways of making it easier to do so.
He tilted his head, studying Thorn for a moment. "Did you ever end up having those dance lessons?" he asked, offering him a hand. "I believe your Prince had been intending to teach you? ... would you care to demonstrate?"
My first impulse is to say no. I'm not a dancer, never have been, but the chancellor's step closer and little glance around the room tells me there's more to this. Somewhat reluctantly I unwind my arms from their crossed position, and take his hand.
"Not as many as I needed, though that is no fault of my prince's teaching." I whisper a silent thanks for the prince's absence. No need for him to see me embarrass both of us.
I find myself surprised at the chancellors warmth as he leads me out. I know for a fact that he's but a mortal man, but some part of me seems to expect something more... cold, from him. And yet his skin burns as hot as my own.
Further out on the floor - in a spot as removed from other dancing couples as possible - Perroy turns to the Captain, taking the hand he's holding and placing it on his own hip. He places his hand on Thorn's shoulder, unthinkingly taking the more 'feminine' part in the dance - though also unquestionably leading as he begins to walk Thorn through the steps, prompting him physically as they go.
"You wouldn't be the first to have concerns," he murmured, now that he was close enough to be able to do so. "Prince Percival's seneschal and I have also spoken. There have already been altercations between Bloodhaven's forces and the camp, but for some reason they seem... reluctant to move, as of yet. I am unsure why. One of them - Cuervo - spoke with me directly demanding we send no more forces against them, as the attack had been unprovoked. Needless to say, I am somewhat concerned. I would be ready, just in case."
I find it rather hard to focus on his words. Both trying to remember the steps I practiced far too briefly, and the subtle movements of his hip under my hand keep demanding my attention.
I do pick up most of it though. "I see. I've made the recommendation that we stay within the castle until the threat has been dealt with, or until proper reinforcements can arrive."
Before he can ask I hurry to clarify: "Reinforcements intended to get the prince out safely. It's possible that the kingdom would be willing to help drive them off, but I wouldn't count on it." Sending their only son here had been a great sign of trust, and a decision made with the understanding that he would be kept safe.
"Their highnesses are rather ... displeased at the moment."
The ball has long since started once I make my way to the ballroom. Music, polite laughter and clinking glasses flow out of the softly lit room, muffled by the rich draperies around the entrance. Even knowing this was my destination, I couldn't bring myself to come entirely unarmed. My blade hangs familiar at my hip, and my hands stay safe cocooned in my gauntlets.
I'm not exactly nervous, but there's an unease building in me. Not only am I entering a strange new environment full of unknown threats and rules, but one I left suddenly with no explanation. I've already written my reports of the ongoing conflict to the royal highnesses of Eridanus; I needn't justify my absence to anyone else.
But, I am here to play nice, am I not? Perroy's advice had been to give a gentleman where a monster is expected, and I'm not fool enough to disregard his words.
I scoff at my own cowardice. No challenge has been overcome through hesitation. I straighten my back, and enter.
My eyes widen when I see the captain enter the ballroom, and it's all I can do not to make a beeline straight for him. He must have just returned, from his... mission. I don't know any of the details, it wasn't my place to ask.
His eyes don't meet mine as he scans the crowd, not that I can see, at least. He seems to have stalled just over the threshold, like he's regretting entering.
I tear my eyes away, lest he catch me staring. He's back. Something in my chest loosens. Why am I smiling?
I give it a moment before making my way towards the ballroom entrance, walking casually, I hope. Trying to hide my limp.
"Captain," I say when I reach him, dipping my head in respect. "Welcome back."
My posture remains strict but noticeably relaxes as Errant approaches. I wonder for a moment when he started having that effect on me, but I decide to save that worry for another day.
He looks beautiful. Far more beautiful than any warrior has a right to be. The smooth shine of his hair and the way it contrasts with his green clothes almost distract me enough not to notice his limp.
"Good evening Errant. Thank you, and please excuse my absence." My eyes run across him again, this time to scan for further damage rather than take in his form. "How have these days treated you?"
I actually have to try not to shiver as he looks me over. I know ostensibly it’s innocent enough, and they don’t linger anywhere. Far more clinical and appraising. But I’ve been on the receiving end of that gaze under far different circumstances enough times that my body seems to know it better than my brain.
Gods. When did I get so fucking easy?
“The Ball has been… eventful,” I say, suddenly feeling like I should have a more detailed report for him. “It seems that this many folks gathering like this can’t help but invite some chaos. I… don’t know all the details, though.”
He doesn’t reply, and I take it as a silent order. Continue.
“As for myself,” my voice lowers just a touch, “I won my first joust and lost my second. I did well in the melee and the archery tournaments.” I hesitate. “And I was caught in the Hunt, but I suppose that’s the entire point, isn’t it?”
Winning a joust, and doing well in two tournaments was a very respectable effort, especially considering how suddenly he had become the only knight to represent their kingdom. I should be proud, and a part of me is. Still, there is a pit growing in my stomach.
"I would like you to come with me after the ball Errant." It's a blunt invitation, an order more than an offer.
I blink, anxiety pooling in my gut. “If there’s something I should know about, I… well, I would rather you tell me now. Otherwise I’ll be curious for the whole masquerade.” I try to keep my voice light, but it’s not working. I can’t read him right now. It’s not the voice he uses when he fucks with me, but he doesn’t exactly seem… pleased, either. “Does it have to wait, sir?”
I can't help but smirk under the mask and I lean in close. "I intend to see the damage to your body myself, Errant. By all means, you may strip here instead." I look the lithe man in the eyes for a few beats, and smile proper when he doesn't move.
"If not, we will continue this privately. Since you're in such a hurry, why don't you find us a place?" I lean back and keep looking at him expectantly. The contrast of his now bright cheeks against his otherwise ethereal appearance is absolutely delicious.
The knot in my stomach stays, but it changes from anxiety to anticipation. I find myself wishing I’d worn a mask that covers my whole face, because then I could grin with excitement the way I want to. As it is, my lips twitch as I nod. “Follow me, sir.”
I lead him out of the ballroom, trying to remember the layout of the manor. Would my own room be best? Very little chance of being interrupted there, but also the farthest away. No simple dark corners if he’s planning to fully strip me, but I don’t know how involved he’s planning for this to get.
I settle for a room off the kitchens, one of the storage spaces for ingredients. It’s cold, and it smells like onions, but the feast is over for tonight and we shouldn’t be found here.
I light a few candles before turning back to Thorn as he closes the door, and wait expectantly.
It really does smell of onions, but my hunger quickly shuts any complaints down. Especially when he looks at me like that. Like he's scared I might eat him, and like he can't wait.
"This will do. Now show me where he hurt you." I lean back against the door. My eyes are drinking in every inch of the man before me, but my ears stay vigilant to any movement outside.
A puppy teethes on the cork of a Schweppes bottle while its sibling looks on. In the second panel, the carbonated drink bursts open, startling them both.
crying and begging from impact play is all nice and good but you know whats better? someone gritting their teeth taking it all bravely proudly stupidly. only to break under the gentleness that follows.
Knight with wounds that will literally not heal. They will always be open, hurting, bleeding. Knight with wounds with edges that will periodically tear and fester because they will simply not stop. Knight with a wound that will sooner or later will bring their death, but not today, so they will arm up and fight.
Quick reminder if you're getting a knight to protect something important ALWAYS get two. It's good to keep your knight stimulated and socialized if it's staying there for long periods of time. And you get the added benefit of having one tell the truth and the other lies.
The ball has long since started once I make my way to the ballroom. Music, polite laughter and clinking glasses flow out of the softly lit room, muffled by the rich draperies around the entrance. Even knowing this was my destination, I couldn't bring myself to come entirely unarmed. My blade hangs familiar at my hip, and my hands stay safe cocooned in my gauntlets.
I'm not exactly nervous, but there's an unease building in me. Not only am I entering a strange new environment full of unknown threats and rules, but one I left suddenly with no explanation. I've already written my reports of the ongoing conflict to the royal highnesses of Eridanus; I needn't justify my absence to anyone else.
But, I am here to play nice, am I not? Perroy's advice had been to give a gentleman where a monster is expected, and I'm not fool enough to disregard his words.
I scoff at my own cowardice. No challenge has been overcome through hesitation. I straighten my back, and enter.
It's a little while before Perroy notices Thorn, busy as he is, but once he's noticed him he can't stop noticing him. Their little tryst the other day had ended positively, however... questionably it had begun. But Perroy had also rushed off at the end of it, and they hadn't spoken since. Not doing so now would, he suspected, communicate a message he wasn't intending to send.
And more to the point, Thorn looks uneasy. Perroy recognises the look - he's seen it before on men stepping onto an unfamiliar battlefield, one fought with soft fabrics and whispers. He sighs, and makes his way over.
"Captain Thorn. You do clean up rather well. Whoever you chose to dress you for the event did a good job." He nods faintly in approval. "The first impression is half the battle."
The Chancellors face remains unreadable as ever, even as he compliments me. I assume it must have been genuine, seeing as my prince had said the same, but it's an assumption all the same.
"Thank you, Chancellor, my prince took me to his personal tailor." I realize I don't know if that's normal, and make a note to ask Dorian about it.
"How have these last few days treated you?" I crack a little smile beneath the mask. I admit the memory of Perroy trapped and moaning beneath me is rather comforting, but I remind myself that we are in his field now. Whatever power I held then means little here.
"Kind of your prince to do so," Perroy says with a nod. "Clearly they are skilled."
The mention of the last few days does prompt the faintest of flushes to race upwards from his neck, and he raises his chin slightly. "They've treated me well enough. I've found myself rather busy. And you?"
There's a slight pause, but I can't tell what it means. Hesitation? Anger? Embarrassment? Perhaps a little flush to his neck, but that might as well be an excuse to keep staring at it.
I shake my head. I'll figure it out later.
"Rather busy would be right here too. The royal highnesses of Eridanus heard of the potential invasion, and I got new orders to investigate the safest option for Prince Dorian. To leave immediately or wait until the smoke clears. They are rather protective of him." As am I, but I keep that part inside. The break was appreciated, but I rather glad to be back as his guardian.
Perroy grimaced faintly, nodding. "Unfortunate, but I can't argue with the wisdom with an army camped on the doorstep," he said, voice deliberately low enough for only Thorn's ears. Achieving that necessitated taking a step closer. Talking privately during a busy social gathering was always a challenge.
Of course, there were ways of making it easier to do so.
He tilted his head, studying Thorn for a moment. "Did you ever end up having those dance lessons?" he asked, offering him a hand. "I believe your Prince had been intending to teach you? ... would you care to demonstrate?"
My first impulse is to say no. I'm not a dancer, never have been, but the chancellor's step closer and little glance around the room tells me there's more to this. Somewhat reluctantly I unwind my arms from their crossed position, and take his hand.
"Not as many as I needed, though that is no fault of my prince's teaching." I whisper a silent thanks for the prince's absence. No need for him to see me embarrass both of us.
I find myself surprised at the chancellors warmth as he leads me out. I know for a fact that he's but a mortal man, but some part of me seems to expect something more... cold, from him. And yet his skin burns as hot as my own.
