#knight x prince

[annoyinglilbro]

Prince who kneels to his knight

Prince who is sweet and kind and has a massive crush on his knight

Knight who uses that to his advantage

Spending his nights in the Prince’s chambers, playing with his cunt and stretching him out on his fingers, turning him into a shaking mess

“Please please please I can’t cum again please I can’t”

“Oh my sweet prince, yes you can. You trust me right? Then trust me to know how much you can take, okay? You don’t even have to do anything, just lie still for me. There we go, that’s a good boy. Such an obedient little prince. Gonna make you cum one more time on my fingers then we can move on okay? Can you do that for me?” Sweetly brushing his hair out of his face and wiping away his tears as he sniffles and nods “good boy. Don’t worry, gonna make you feel so good.”

[prongsfass]

[ms--lobotomy]

Knight gf who shields you with her sword instinctively, even when the threat is small

Knight gf who brushes her armored hand against yours, smiling as she comments on how big hers are in armor

Knight gf who leads you into the forest for a well-deserved break as you bond with her and her hunting dog

Knight gf who carries you back when you get tired

Knight gf who relives the adventure in her mind day by day, yearning for her next time alone with you

Knight gf who kneels before you, your thighs squeezing her face as she feasts like she's starving

Knight gf who marvels at your chambers, leaving her armor at the bedside before climbing in

Knight gf whose name you cry out in the night as you grip your pillow and come to orgasm after orgasm

Knight gf who kneels before your throne the next day, sword in hand, who swears to serve you no matter what

for the only differences between a knight and a common servant are the sword at her side and the devotion in her eyes

[ieatghostsforbreakfast]

Thinking about ordering a knight around. Treating them as if me being a prince somehow makes it better for me to be a prick to them. But soon, they get fed up with my behavior.

They sneak into my room at night, tying me to my bed and undressing me. Ignoring my panicked questions or my crying out. But it's all soon shut up with a hand pressed against my mouth and a cock being forcefully shoved into my boycunt. Being treated like a whore by one of the men and women hired to protect me and my kingdom, being degraded and fucked as if my cunt is free use.

Then they come to a halt, cumming inside of my previously untouched cunt. Marking me as a whore and leaving me to be dazed in bed with cum dripping from my pussy. Sorry if this post is a bit messy. I'm jacking off.

[br4ttypr1nc3]

“Knight x prince” this “stable boy x prince” that

WHAT ABOUT ALL OF THEM!!

What if the prince was just so slutty that he couldn’t handle just one. He had to whore himself out to the entire kingdom

He’s just so well known for spreading his legs for any man with a big enough cock to satisfy him. It’s gotten to the point where it’s normal to see him bent over in public taking cock.

Perhaps he’s even taken the king…

[temptresstitania]

bitchy bratty dyke prince x the knight charged with protecting him. prince who breaks rules and spreads his legs for every court attendant that catches his eye, much to the dismay of his bodyguard. prince who is in desperate need of discipline and the knight who knows that they could put him in his place and keep him in line if only they were allowed the opportunity.

[princeofurheart]

A personal guard...a personal knight...one specially tasked with keeping me safe. Little does the king and queen know, I am savagely made to take his cock every waking and sleeping hour. It goes as far that during a royal ball where I am supposed to be searching for a suitor, he convinces the king to let me slip off with him for a few moments. The king doesn't even question my ever so trustful knight.

He pulls me just barely a meter out of the ballroom before his needy lips are on mine and his hands are groping my ass, my arms thrown around his shoulders as he explores me endlessly. It becomes too much for him and before I know it, my trousers are ripped at the seam and his cock is fucking into my cunt. He growls into my ear that he knows what I am doing, teasing him like this and that he should have known I wouldn't have had it slide for this long as is. I have no idea what he's talking about, but I don't get to even begin to say that because as soon as my mouth opens his fingers are choking me, pushed down my throat to silence me.

[sirkendryan]

imagining accompanying my prince to a gala, some lavish and overwhlemingly busy party, a hell of a lot even for many a noble. I trail behind him like the loyal knight I am while he socialises, chatting with lords and ladies, doing my best to avoid the flow of bodies and the flicker of eyes. when he looks back at me its clear I wish I had my helm to cover my face, as then perhaps if I stood very still I could be mistaken for an empty suit of armour, a decoration. no such luck.

a while into the festivities he politely excuses himself, steps out of the hall, and of course I follow. he doesn't slow, ignoring my quiet concerned "my lord?"s and "sire?"s, until we are cloistered alone.

"you looked like rabbit with a foot in a snare back there."

heat rushes to my face. "apologies, my lord."

he touches my chest, tracing the engravings of my breastplate.

"these people bore me." he did not seem bored.

"sire?" I see what he's doing, and I ask for assurance out of disbelief.

he scans the corridor before leaning in, cradling my face, and kissing me on the mouth. I am surprised, as I am each time he kisses me, but I do not resist. how could I possibly resist?

"the library is around the corner." he grins devilishly, not straying far from my mouth. "it will be empty at this time of night, especially with all that raucous in the great hall. I'm sure we can find a way to entertain ourselves in there instead."

"are you sure?" my voice is tight as he slides a hand beneath the hem of my chainmail, grazing over my codpiece. his soft fingers are so warm, and even the lightest tease of a touch is a bellows to my fire. he only grins wider, teeth glinting in the low light.

"if I have to order you to relax, sir knight, I will do—and I know you dare not disobey."

[pillowprince-playroom]

You said if I wanted a short story to just hit you up. Sooooo, I'm hitting you!

Prince being spanked. With a sprinkle of forcemasc maybe? Please and thank you, your highness :)

Oh yesss! This is an invitation to anyone btw. I'm a writer at heart so I looove to be given ideas for snippets!

Easy Access

Prince x Knight, contains: spanking, (implied) dysphoria, forcemasc, fingering, skirts, could be read as dubcon in the beginning

The throne room is already mostly empty when the Knight comes to pick up his Prince. It is late in the evening, the courtiers have left and only servants are still milling about. When he steps around the collumn blocking his view of the throne, his jaw clenches.

Sitting on the throne, his face buried in his hands, is the Prince. He doesn't look like himself. The hair under his crown is artfully coiled instead of brushed back like usual. Long, white gloves cover his hands and up past his elbows.

"What is this, then, your Highness," the Knight asks as he steps up.

The Prince twitches in surprise.

"I was under the impression you didn't enjoy wearing dresses, my Prince."

He sighs. "Princess, dear Knight."

"No," the Knight growls.

A moment of silence follows. Then, the Prince stands up, his skirts cascading down his legs. "Yes. It has to be."

Blinding rage bubbles inside of the Knight. He reaches out, barely thinking and grasps the Prince's arms. "I would not care if you had simply found a love for dresses, but this is ridiculous. I think you need to be taught that a Prince doesn't debase himself, doesn't make himself small for the benefit of others."

The Prince stares at him. His eyes are wide.

"Come here," the Knight commands as he pull his Prince around to the side of the throne and gives him a shove over the arm rest. "I'll teach you, little Prince." With that, he grasped the hem of the skirts and unceremoniously lifted them up, exposing the Prince's bare ass.

"What are you-" The Prince's question is cut off by a sharp slap landing on his cheek.

In quick succession, five more slaps land. "I told you I am teaching you. I'll do this until you promise never to pretend to be a girl again."

"You can't do that," the Prince shrieks. "I'm a Prince! Fuck, a Princess I mean! Spanking my bare ass is-"

"Exactly what you asked for," the Knight replies. "Skirts and no small clothes, that is called easy access, my Prince. If you wish to prevent this in the future, I suggest wearing your trousers instead."

The Prince whines. "What if someone sees?"

"They will see a silly boy disciplined. I suggest you apologise quickly."

Another whine as two hard slaps land on his thighs. "Ow, stop! Please, it hurts!"

He doesn't let up. "Say you are a Prince."

"But I have-"

A light tap lands between the Prince's flailing thighs. It shuts him up. "A dripping boycunt and a hard cock. Yes, I noticed." The Knight runs his fingers between his legs, finding the cock at the top. "See? Princesses don't have hard dicks like this."

"It's not a-"

Another tap lands on the slick entrance. "Don't think I won't spank you here too."

The Prince struggles against the strong hand holding him down. "No! Not there! Not on my cock, please!"

Above him, the Knight smiles. "Whatever you wish, your Highness. See? It's not so hard to admit. Are you ready to promise not to play Princess again?"

For a moment, the Prince is silent. His hole is leaking steadily. Then, with a quiet, almost shy voice, he says "I think I have not learned my lesson quite yet. Maybe you should put me over your knee instead."

He doesn't answer, instead just pulling the Prince up by the back of his dress, stepping around the throne to sit down, and throwing the Prince over his knee unceremoniously. His skirts get bunched up again. "Like this, your Highness?"

His only reply is a nod.

The rhythm he sets is slow and even, raining firm slaps onto the already pink cheeks before him. He feels the Prince tense in his lap but relax into the steady sensations. A few moments pass by.

"Learned your lesson yet, your Highness?"

The Prince scoffs. "You know what I want."

"I want you to say it, my Prince," the knight easily retorts, not leaving up on his smooth slaps.

"Fine," the Prince bites out and hangs his head. "Will you please finger my boycunt while you spank me?"

The Knight hums. "Who is asking?"

"No one," comes the biting reply that loses some of it's verocity to the faint motions of the Prince's hips. "Your Prince is demanding."

Finally satisfied, the Knight slides two thick fingers between wet folds and teases them over the hole before pressing in. He savors the deep groan his Prince makes in reply. "Good boy."

It doesn't take much of the fingers sliding in and out and a practiced thumb rubbing his cock before the Prince starts to clench and writhe. His cheeks burn from the continued slaps. He barely registers the Knight stopping the spanking in favour of rubbing his red butt because he finally tenses fully and cums with a desperate whine.

"No more Princess nonesense?" the Knight asks after a brief pause to let the Prince catch his breath. At the answering nod, he stands up and lits the Prince into his arms so they can kiss while he steps down from the throne. "Let's go and get you out of this costume then."

[annoyinglilbro]

Prince who starts invalidating himself and going to royal events as a princess to please his family, knight who corners him later, not following any orders nor letting him come unless he admits he's a boy. (After all, the knight's job is to protect the prince)

Prince being pushed into an abandoned corridor and glaring at the knight.

“What is your problem?!”

“What’s yours? What is all this? Where are your button ups, your trousers? Why are you parading around in corsets and lace?”

Prince who scoffs and crosses his arms. He looks away from the knight and forces his eyes on some random tapestry on the wall.

“Father is done entertaining me. They let wear my hair short and wear my brothers clothes for years. But now I’m an adult, it’s time to stop playing pretend and be the princess the kingdom needs. They’re giving me some time to let my hair grow, and then I’ll be presented with suitors. Each from our ally kingdoms, and I will choose one to marry.”

Knight who shakes his head. It can’t be true. He has been at the prince’s side since they were kids, he’d know if he was protecting a girl. Even with the corset and light flowing fabrics, that’s a boy. That’s his boy.

The same boy who would wrestle with him in his room, and get scolded for stealing extra bread from the kitchen. There was never a princess, always a prince. And he was a damn good one. Whatever is happening here is hurting him, and as his knight it’s his job to make it right.

That’s why he doesn’t hesitate when he takes the sword to the dress. When he chops away at the skirt and watches the way it tears.

“Hey! What are you doing?!”

“Reminding you who you are! This isn’t you, you’re not a princess. You’re not some dainty girl who needs protecting, who falls in line and does whatever she’s told. Where’s your fire? Where are you? You’re an imposter standing infront of me. My prince would never-“

“Oh please! I was never your prince. You’re being ridiculous.” Prince that tried to push past the knight, only to be slammed backwards into the wall once again. “Stop that!”

“I don’t follow orders from any princess. Only my prince can command me.” As he pushes his hands under the torn fabric, feeling for that spot between his legs that he knows oh too well. His fingers quickly find the bundle of nerves that they’ve called his cock on many occasions.

“Oh fuck…”

“How can you say you’re a girl, hmm? When you get so worked up from having your cock played with. Silly boy, so confused. I’ll remind you, don’t worry.”

Pulling his head back by his hair and kissing all the spots he knows drives his boy crazy. Nobody knows the prince better than him. Teeth piercing into flesh, breathing uneven, and eyes glazed over with lust. Even in a dress, he can still see the boy buried underneath. Beautiful, breath taking, in need of rescue.

Prince’s hands cling to the knight, just as they have many nights before. It isn’t fair, the prince can only feel cold armor, while his knight is spoiled in the warmth of his cunt. Fingers rubbing and prodding, sliding through slick and pressing him further and further.

“Please please I have to cum please.”

Fingers that pinch at the small bud, making the prince moan and writhe.

“Who’s asking to cum?”

“Ah…fuck.. your princess is telling you. M..make me cum.”

Knight that clicks his tongue and stops the movement of his fingers.

“I only take orders from my prince.” His hand leaves his hair and instead wraps around the prince’s throat, both glaring at the other with no real hatred to fuel them. “Dress up is fun. But it’s time to stop playing around, little prince. My sweet boy. I know you’re in there. Come back to me and I’ll make you cum until you so many times you lose track.”

Prince letting out a shakey breath. He doesn’t want to disappoint his father, but it’s so hard. So hard pretending to be something he’s not and maybe that’s why he can’t stop the sob that leaves him as he falls forward and wraps his arms lovingly around his knight.

“Please…please? Get me out of here. Take me back to my- to our chambers and have me. Take me. Please, I need you.”

Knight who pauses, his arms falling to his sides.

“Who’s asking me?”

“Your Prince.”

Knight who wraps his arms around the trembling boy, kissing the top of his head before he picks him up.

“Anything you want, my darling prince.”

[wordsbymae]

Price of War

Ok I lied, I was gonna do something for an oc, but I have been obsessed with Arcadie: Second Born since I played it so I had to do very short piece inspired by it. Sorry if it isn't as good as you guys are used to! It has been awhile since I've written anything.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The last of your name, the last of your blood. The sole survivor of a massacre enacted solely to destroy your family, to murder each and everyone of you. The King and Queen were dead. Throats slashed from behind as they feasted and cheered atop their great seats. Next came your older brother and sister. They were fierce warriors but caught completely unaware, in the once assumed safety of their great familial hall. Cut down by those they once called friends. Your uncle, barely leaving his seat, was the fourth to fall. Numerous other family members, those you loved, those you cared for and even those you barely even knew, were slain after. Their blood mixing in with that of their fallen kin. Screams and cheers coming together in a wicked display of evil. Those not of your name ran for their lives, leaving behind their loyalty for the fallen royal family behind in the muck of betrayal.

It was an extermination. Leaving you, youngest of the King and Queen's children, and the last of your entire family, to live. It was due to no cunning or skill of yours that you were still alive. No mercy from above or a chance of fate. The traitor willed you to live and as such you were spared. But, as the traitor sat on the very seat your father was murdered on, used your mother's still warm body as a foot rest, and cleaned the sword he used to cut your brother down, you wished, and not for the last time, that you had fallen with your kin.

He sat before you, lazily wiping your brother's blood from his great sword. You recognised it as the sword your mother gifted him for a successful campaign in the east. The great hall was silent now. There had been gargles and moans of the dying but it was finally silent. Death had come for your once great house. Those complacent in the massacre stood tall and motionless, like statues that littered the walls. And like statues they held no guilt for what had occurred.

You stood, shaken and teary eyed. You tried to hold back emotion, lest the traitor in front of you saw you as weak. You had been dragged from your hiding place while your family was still being butchered, you thought the same would happen to you. Instead you were dragged through rivers of blood and over dying bodies. Your second cousin had gripped onto you ankle with such a force you could still feel his nails digging into your skin now. You could feel his blood drying on your face too, the memory of those who had been dragging you kicking and slashing him as he laid on the floor, until his grip finally loosened.

The traitor in front of you let out a sigh, lulling you back into the present. He seemed bored or at the very least disappointed.

"I thought it would have been harder" he spoke, pushing your mother's body back and forth with his foot, until he bored of it and pushed your mother down the stairs, to your very feet. You stared at her, her eyes dull, yet screaming at you with fear and sadness at the very same time.

" I thought it would take more to bring down the once great royal family". You couldn't tell if he actually wanted an answer, or was just pushing salt into the emotional wounds that littered you.

He stood and began to slowly walk down the steps to meet you. Upon coming across your mother's body he kicked her to the side. There was a time you found him attractive, there was once a time one might say you had 'feelings' for him. But it was nothing but a child's fancy. The man in front of you was no longer your childhood companion, no longer was he the trusted general of your father's armies, no longer the Kingdom's most valued hero. He was a murderer, a villain, a traitor. A suddenly occurred to you, that the tribes and chiefdoms that your father ordered him to raise to the ground, had known him long before you as only as that, an evil, wicked man.

"Do you know why I spared you?" he asks, the face of your childhood friend, corrupted with the blood of your kin.

You opened your mouth to answer. To tell him no, to tell him to go fuck himself, to make a morbid joke of him wanting to torture you in front of the kingdom. You weren't quite sure what you were going to say. But he cut you off, clearly not in the mood to discuss his internal plans.

"Because you are the key to peace and the price of war" he states, eyes drilling into yours. You stared back in confusion, he was never one for riddles.

" I have fought in countless battle, killed hundreds, caused pain to thousands, and what was it for? hmm? Nothing, not a single fucking thing" he spits, you try to step back, but he only inches closer.

"I was lied to, we were all lied to" he shouts, pointing to his men who stiffen as he does so. "we were told war is the maker of peace, we were told that for every life we take, every family we slaughter, our kingdom, our homeland would flourish. It was nothing but a filthy fucking lie."

He turns back to where he left his sword, leaning on your father's seat. He grabs it, and turns back to you.

"I was given this as a gift for my battles in the east, but it was not what was promised to me" he snarls, his arm lifting until the sword was pointed at you, he steps forward, the tip coming to rest under your chin.

"Your mother promised me you" he whispers, the anger from before shifting to desperation. His arm lowered and so did the sword.

"It was the one thing I asked for when I left for the front lines, that if I survived I would have your hand in marriage, as we had planned as children, as it should have always been. But your mother lied, told me that of course she would be honoured to have me as your husband if I came back a hero, but a soldier and a hero are not always the same. I did what I was told, killed all those who opposed us, and for what? A scrap of metal to be thrown at my feet because I was not noble enough? That unlike your family's spoiled brats, I actually fought along side my men? I didn't stand on some ridge over looking chaos and watch as if it was some sport?"

"They lied to me, about everything. Why we were fighting, why we were killing, why my soldiers had to die in a foreign land to a foreign hand. Peace we were told. It wasn't peace, it was greed. Now it is time for us to be greedy. It's time for us to make war to make peace. This land will be rid of those who sent us to war for scraps of metal and gold. And a new dawn, a new kingdom for the common people will be born. It's finally time for me to get what was promised to me, for all the shit I've been through, for all the blood I split, I finally will have you. And I will be the king this kingdom deserves"

You let go of a breath you didn't know you had.

"The kingdom will never accept you as king" you whisper, trying to swallow but only finding a parched mouth. "They will see you as nothing but a bloodthirsty tyrant"

He stares at you for a moment, until a deep chuckle fight past his lips. He laughs for a few moments, his silent statues of men begin cracking their façade and laugh along with him.

"Of course they will accept me. I'm the kingdom's valiant hero, who not only protected them from the eastern tribes, but rescued them from the tyranny of your parent's rule. You live a sheltered life your majesty, you know not of what is beyond the castle walls"

Your heart races. Surely your parent's were loved by all? They seemed to think so, hosting large parties and feasts in honour of the peasant and common folk. Yet you now only find it odd that your never truly saw common folk at these gathering, unless of course you count the servants.

The usurper king continues speaking.

"But suppose you are right, that there are some who would refuse to see me reign, well as you as my spouse, how could anyone refuse, after all you are the sole living survivor of your family, you are therefore the ruler of this kingdom, and with me as your king, none shall dare threaten us." he chuckles, a dark and violent sound.

"Any child of yours is the heir to the throne, and I intend to sire that child" his eyes gleam dangerously in the candle light of the hall.

You look down at your mother, kicked to the side, eyes open forever unseeing. For a moment you wished that you could lay down beside her one last time and be one with your family again, forever unseeing, yet forever out of reach of the usurper king's hands.

[bloomingb1tches]

So I’m having a VERY HARD TIME finding blogs to follow/content to consume, sooooooo-

Please interact if you’re a blog that’s both into royalty kinks and okay with blogs that have cnc & hard kinks on them interacting

PLEASE IM BEGGING. LITERALLY EVERY ROYALTY KINK BLOG IVE FOUND RECENTLY HAVE VERY STRICT DNI’S THAT INCLUDE BLOGS W HARD KINKS & CNC KINKS. I JUST NEED A GOOD HIT OF ROYALTY KINK CONTENT AND I CANT FIND ANNNNYYYYY.

[ieatghostsforbreakfast]

⚔️ here. I apologize if I've left you bereft of a response should you have been hoping for it, but life has been in the way. Were I able to gesticulate in a text post, I'd be vaguely wiggling my hand at a map of the United States. I've been thinking, though. I very rarely show my face when I'm doing anything Buhurt-related, and it means that a lot of people assume I'm older than I am. So, it got my imagination running a bit. Imagine you're assigned a knight who always wears its helmet. No exceptions. He eats in his quarters so it doesn't have to show himself. Thus, quite a few people assume that it's some grizzled veteran, appointed to you through proving his worth. Only the best for the prince, after all. Then you see it. Through a door left ajar, a visor slipped up as your knight quietly eats. Its face, not at all wrinkled and scarred from perceived countless battles, but something youthful. Something closer to your own age. It sinks in that he wasn't appointed from experience, but from raw talent. This is a living weapon, trained from birth to protect you specifically. Perhaps that's why its breath seems to hitch whenever he's praised, or why its proverbial tail seems to tuck between his legs whenever you admonish him. Regardless, its helmet typically hides his blush...

I'd honestly get so hot and bothered. Even from just a loyal knight attending to me. I wouldn't even have to see a face to imagine how it would feel to have it finger my cunt or stroke my tdick in the late hours of the night. Maybe it'd turn me on more to have a knight around my age. Probably would sneak in more and more praises until my knight can't take it anymore.

[princelysavior]

thoughts on completely submissive knights?

-🪽 ( i plan to be reoccurring )

oh, my.

my favorite kind. :-)

i do believe that purely submissive knights are smarter than the sorts that dedicate themselves purely to the crown, rather than to the royal wearing it.

you understand what few do - what a privilege it is to be under the heel of royalty, to serve your betters.

i see it in the way you kneel before me - not out of fear, nor some hollow sense of duty, but out of something purer, more… devout.

your submission is deliberate, bordering on sycophantic, your helm touching the marble floor as you prostrate yourself... you look nothing like a knight, and everything like a disciple.

it excites me, though i know i shouldn’t say so. princes are not to enjoy such debasement, the sight of their subjects giving themselves up so willingly.

and yet, the sight of you on your knees, the way you look up at me, your eyes large and glassy, begging for something, anything. i am not supposed to enjoy the trembling adoration in your eyes, the shine that makes me realize that you would willingly bleed, if it meant pleasing me.

your armor, shining though it is, does little to hide the slump of your shoulders, the arch of your back, the dog-like stance you naturally take on when showing yourself to me.

i could see it, if i’d like. the flush of your cheeks, the pout of your lips, i could see more of you more than your large, soft eyes. i could strip you of your armor piece by gleaming piece, until there is nothing covering your body, nothing left to cover your devotion.

and you’d delight in it.

you adore the submission that comes so easily to you, the feeling of letting your life rest in another, more powerful set of hands.

a more capable set of hands.

you love the weight of my gaze, the sound of my voice calling you to heel.

and, perhaps, if you’re good enough, i can teach you more commands than simply sit, stay, and heel. a knight is to be well-trained after all, wouldn’t you say so?

(speak, puppy.)

[temptresstitania]

no I'm not done. vampire dom bottom prince and the reluctant sub top knight contractually obligated to give up their blood for him if needed. vampire prince always making excuses to feed on the knight and the knight alone, because he's much too famished to go hunting, or because it'd be much more convenient for the knight to just tilt their neck this way and close their eyes...

prince's hand brushes against the knight's lower half and feels something firm.

it's the blunt end of a sharpened stake hiding in the knight's trousers, but the prince assumes they're just happy to see him. ❂

[sirkendryan]

I don't know when it happened. when the need to perform my duty to you turned to want and that want into a need much stronger. as burdensome as it was, I was dedicated to you body and soul by pure honour, gritting my teeth through the chivalry demanded by my pledge even though I could barely stand your bitterness and ice, biting my tongue, enduring the relentless pester of your presence. you are unlike any I have ever met, and certainly unlike any I would have freely chosen to give my time to. but even still, I was prepared to die for you, do whatever it took to keep you safe, all from the very beginning. and all that time, all that devotion... perhaps if one hands over their heart to another for long enough, it takes the shape of their hands forevermore. now as I stand by your side, your jabs and teases rouse no ire in me. I find something else, something quite uncousined from that earlier disdain, roused instead, and roused lively. I have been staring at the back of your neck for hours now, any chance I get. I could recognise you from the faint pattern of freckles there alone. you have seldom seen me without my helm, would scarcely know my face in a crowded room. I am a suit of armour to you, a shell, a spectre. I used to dream about burying my dagger in that spot where your neck meets your collar, tender flesh always unprotected. how warm and red your blood would be. now I lay awake trembling with my hands upon and inside myself, thinking only of you—the facets of you I see each day, the parts I have never seen... I would lay down my life for you. I want to lay down for you. I need you I need you I need you.