Knight Posting

SER WILLIAM - 23 - MIDWEST USA - FTM - QUEER - FOR ALL HONOR AND RESPECT - ABOUT ME PINNED -NO MINORS - HERE THERE BE PORN

[ser-william-the-third]

My contract is nearly up, and I don’t know if my captain wants me back. So just in case, I’m putting my application out there for any prospective employers.

Ser William Clover 111

Characteristics:

23 years of age, 14 years of schooling, 2 years of service.

I may have a tendency to join in on mischievous activities.

Fully literate and I know my numbers.

Can live anywhere, and I come with some of my own equipment.

Possesses Capabilities of the spiritual nature, though amateur.

Green thumb and good with animals.

Sterilized, autistic, and transgendered

My few requirements:

Occasional leave to see my family

Healthcare and the like

A place to live

An agreed upon salary

Close proximity to the great outdoors.

Ooc: hi, I’m also Will. Main blog is @technicallycrazyfun . Ser William started as a persona and he wrested control from me. About me: I’m 23, I live in Indiana (USA). And I am also ftm transgender. My gender expresssion is fluid, but Ser William’s is not.

I will post photos to this account. Some will be naked. Here is your warning.

My boundaries are:

No:

Minors!!!!

Water sports or scat

Being called a girl/woman (feminine comparisons are OK)

TERFs or bigots of any nature

Anal.

Yes!:

Anons, messages, or dms

TFT, MLM, MLW, POLY (and non-poly parings too!)

Bondage,

torture,

monsters,

blood, gore, guts,

PIV, Non PIV,

frotting, rutting, a/b/o mechanics,

forcemasc,

supernatural beings and powers, ritualistic sacrifices and ceremonies, witchcraft and the Cosmic Horrors.

And more! If you’re wondering, feel free to send me an anon or message!

[queer-as-city-folk]

I’ve never gotten high before but you make a compelling case for it

I'm leik a less effective grsion of DARE

[technicallycrazyfun]

NORTHEAST INDIANA USA BUDDIES!!!! HAPPY PRIDE MOTHERFUCKERS. TASTE THE FUCKING RAINDOW!!!!!!!! ♥️🧡💛💚💙💜👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨🧑‍❤️‍🧑👩‍❤️‍👩👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨

I’ll see yall in a couple days

[ser-william-the-third]

ILL BE BACK SOON!!!!

[cordaxmerc]

my kin kinda a loser so I make him see scary faces and visions of brutality every time he tries to sleep cus I'm bored

[basicbascinet]

Turning you into a deboned chicken will be the most satisfying moment of my life.

[cordaxmerc]

try

[basicbascinet]

Oh, I will.

[basicbascinet]

Normal deer! But maybe a slightly abnormal wolf

Thank you, voice of the narrator

[ser-william-the-third]

((answer this whenever you finish your quest, no rush 🤍))

elizabeth is laying on top of her bedcovers, clad in a short pink nightgown and matching ruffled socks. her feet kick behind her lazily as she reads. she had so much fun at the masquerade, but the dancing had only served to wake her up more. she’s certain she won’t sleep a wink tonight.

a knock sounds at her door, and thinking it was a maid, or another princess coming to gossip, she stays where she is and languidly calls out, “come in!”

Ser William Clover the Third stumbles in through the door, covered in black goop and blood, smelling of magic and ash. He helmet is under his arm, leather armor still fastened securely. Seeing the Princess’ wide eyes, he quickly says “Mostly not mine.” There’s a cut above his eye, and he’s limping, favoring his right side. “It’s done.”

[most-mid-lady-in-the-land]

"fucking hells, william, sit down!" she practically shouts, hopping up and grabbing his arm to guide him to the chair at her vanity.

once he's been deposited, she hurries into the bathroom, bringing out a few clean rags and a bowl of water. she begins to tenderly clean up his face and neck, gentle as to not accidentally discover an injury under the grime. she's asking constant questions, hurried and concerned.

"what happened, why are you limping, who's blood is this, did your plans work, where are you injured, may i heal you?"

she's checking him all over, standing between his legs to examine his face. grabbing his chin, her gaze softens from Healer to just elizabeth, whispering, "are you alright? more than just physically too?"

[ser-william-the-third]

Blinking, he was suddenly sitting, and Liz was between his knees in a tiny gown and frilly socks, dabbing at his face with cool cloth. Her hair was unbound, and her brows furrowed. Did he have a concussion? His head swam, and she almost seemed to glow.

“I found it. The phylactery. I shattered what I could, then burned the rest. I fought a couple ghouls. Maybe a corpse? Definitely a shade.” He stiffened as she brushed over his brow, but said nothing. “Um. Yeah. And yes, yeah.” He hoped she understood. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, his throat dry. He tapped his thigh where Elizabeth could see a patch of blood seeping through the pants under his leather armor.

[most-mid-lady-in-the-land]

“will, i’d hoped this might be under different circumstances, but i have to ask you to take off your pants. i can heal that much right now. we’ll discuss what happened more in depth later, but i need to stop the bleeding, ok?”

she drops to her knees as she speaks so she can be eye-level with his thigh, looking up at him through her lashes. placing a gentle hand on his knee, she subconsciously starts tracing soothing patterns on his leg, biting her lip in anxiety and concern for the handsome knight in front of her.

[ser-william-the-third]

His face went red. She’s on her knees. Between his legs, thick lashes framing concerned big blown eyes- Stars, now is not the time, William, get ahold of yourself! He begins to unbuckle his armor, beginning with his tall boots and working up to his hip guards. He gently drops them to the ground, and attempts to stand, hand falling to the princesses shoulder to steady himself. With the other hand he struggles with buttons, suddenly grateful he wore one of his few nicer pairs of unders.

Working together, they peeled off the linen, and to his dismay, the blood had soaked the bottom of his boxers as well. He sat back down once the pants were around his ankles, and began rolling up the bloodied side.

The gash was deep and wide, diagonally splitting his skin in a gruesome display. A small bit of blood dripped to the floor, and he winced. “Apologies, my Lady.”

[most-mid-lady-in-the-land]

she can’t help but notice how instantaneous his reaction was to her words, putting that away as a treat for Regular Elizabeth. right now, she needs to focus.

“no need to apologize for getting your thigh slashed open, gods this looks rough. i should be able to fix this, but it shall certainly scar, and the process might hurt.”

she runs her thumb over the split, beginning to sing quietly in an ancient language, voice like a cool breeze on a sunny day, soothing, clear, and beautiful. the wound starts to knit itself back together as she furrows her brow in deep concentration. she finishes the tune, then leans over the slash, whispering directly into the wound, “Heal.”

and it does. it finishes repairing arteries, binding skin, weaving fresh tissue. she knows it hurts, so she encourages, “you’re doing so well, william. you were strong and brave in the tunnels, and you’re strong and brave now. almost done…..there we go, all finished.”

she lays her head on his large thigh, turning her head just enough to place over the now-healed scar. “you took that like a champion, ser. i’ve seen many a weak man damn near pass out, but you did so well for me.”

she’s letting regular, teasing elizabeth return, her focused healer mind switching back to ideas of mischief and debauchery. she smile up at him and asks jokingly, “feel better?”

[ser-william-the-third]

As the Healer began to sing her song, he felt the pain return. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug, and rapid-onset healing is a hell of a narcan. He bit down on his glove to keep from screaming, instead whining and whimpering as his felt knit together. Tears began to soak his face, but he kept still. Her words of encouragement helped, grounding him and giving him something to focus on.

The tears slowed, and he removed his gloved hand from his mouth. Sliding off the glove and gently threading his hand into Liz’s hair, he took a deep, shaken breath. “Thank you. That’s…a lot better. How… are you a mage, too?” He asked, still treading his fingers through her golden locks.

[most-mid-lady-in-the-land]

she looked up at him, still on her knees, and suddenly the position they were in hit her like a Ye Olde Bus. she turns bright pink, barely managing to stammer out, “y- you’re welcome ser,” the title now feeling like a loaded weapon either one of them could fire at any moment.

before elizabeth loses her focus completely, she explains quickly, “when i was learning how to focus my Charms, i worked under a sorcerer and we discovered my Innate magic by accident….. i’m no real magician, but most of what i know is healing magic, with a small arsenal of attack spells. it’s not much, just some basics.”

she rises to her feet, still standing between his legs, and tenderly wipes the tear tracks on his face with her thumbs. leaning down, she kisses him softly, not much longer than a second, before pulling away, panicking.

“i- i am so sorry ser that shan’t happen again oh gods i cannot believe i did that i didnt even ask how could i be so thoughtless i swear i shall let you be now and i shall never be too untoward with my advances and i am again so so so sorry william- “

she keeps rambling, trying to distance herself from the knight.

[ser-william-the-third]

“Wait. No.”

Seeing Liz began to draw away, he reached out and grabbed the hem of her nightgown, pulling her back to him.

With his gauntlet around the small of her back, he bought his hand up to her jaw and pulled her back down to him, returning the kiss with much more force than probably necessary. He felt her gasp into his mouth, before kissing him back with a fervor. Behind her, he took off his remaining glove and dropped it, placing both of his hands around her supple waist.

She tasted like sweet raspberries and honey, and her lips. Oh Stars, her lips were so soft he could touch them forever. The ruffles and lace under his hands did nought to conceal how warm they were, and how securely he held.

[most-mid-lady-in-the-land]

the moan she left slip into his mouth was sweeter than honey, breathy and surprised. his warm hands were just about the only thing keeping her standing, her legs feeling like jelly at the intensity of his kiss. elizabeth’s hands flew up to match him, one hand running through the closely cropped hair at the nape of his neck, the other placed delicately over his heart.

feeling the heat of his hands seep in through her thin nightdress, permeating her abdomen, and flowing warmth both up to her face, and towards towards her core. whining into his lips, she pulls herself even closer to will, wanting, nay, needing the intimacy of their bodies directly against each other. she pulls away, concerned.

“are you truly feeling better? i know some pain can linger, and what i want to happen later might require some….movement of the hips and thighs….”

for once, she’s the sheepish one, overwhelmed by the pure feeling pulled from her just from his lips.

[ser-william-the-third]

The blush of her cheeks looks like a painting, the colors pulled straight from her nightgown. Her bottom lip is plump and red, damp from their kiss. The shadows from the lamp on her vanity cast his shadow across her ample chest, illuminating her heart-shaped face with a warm glow. He suddenly wishes he could paint.

“If it becomes too much upon my thighs, I still have my hands, my lips. My injury need not deter you, Darling.”

[ser-william-the-third]

((answer this whenever you finish your quest, no rush 🤍))

elizabeth is laying on top of her bedcovers, clad in a short pink nightgown and matching ruffled socks. her feet kick behind her lazily as she reads. she had so much fun at the masquerade, but the dancing had only served to wake her up more. she’s certain she won’t sleep a wink tonight.

a knock sounds at her door, and thinking it was a maid, or another princess coming to gossip, she stays where she is and languidly calls out, “come in!”

Ser William Clover the Third stumbles in through the door, covered in black goop and blood, smelling of magic and ash. He helmet is under his arm, leather armor still fastened securely. Seeing the Princess’ wide eyes, he quickly says “Mostly not mine.” There’s a cut above his eye, and he’s limping, favoring his right side. “It’s done.”

[most-mid-lady-in-the-land]

"fucking hells, william, sit down!" she practically shouts, hopping up and grabbing his arm to guide him to the chair at her vanity.

once he's been deposited, she hurries into the bathroom, bringing out a few clean rags and a bowl of water. she begins to tenderly clean up his face and neck, gentle as to not accidentally discover an injury under the grime. she's asking constant questions, hurried and concerned.

"what happened, why are you limping, who's blood is this, did your plans work, where are you injured, may i heal you?"

she's checking him all over, standing between his legs to examine his face. grabbing his chin, her gaze softens from Healer to just elizabeth, whispering, "are you alright? more than just physically too?"

[ser-william-the-third]

Blinking, he was suddenly sitting, and Liz was between his knees in a tiny gown and frilly socks, dabbing at his face with cool cloth. Her hair was unbound, and her brows furrowed. Did he have a concussion? His head swam, and she almost seemed to glow.

“I found it. The phylactery. I shattered what I could, then burned the rest. I fought a couple ghouls. Maybe a corpse? Definitely a shade.” He stiffened as she brushed over his brow, but said nothing. “Um. Yeah. And yes, yeah.” He hoped she understood. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, his throat dry. He tapped his thigh where Elizabeth could see a patch of blood seeping through the pants under his leather armor.

[most-mid-lady-in-the-land]

“will, i’d hoped this might be under different circumstances, but i have to ask you to take off your pants. i can heal that much right now. we’ll discuss what happened more in depth later, but i need to stop the bleeding, ok?”

she drops to her knees as she speaks so she can be eye-level with his thigh, looking up at him through her lashes. placing a gentle hand on his knee, she subconsciously starts tracing soothing patterns on his leg, biting her lip in anxiety and concern for the handsome knight in front of her.

[ser-william-the-third]

His face went red. She’s on her knees. Between his legs, thick lashes framing concerned big blown eyes- Stars, now is not the time, William, get ahold of yourself! He begins to unbuckle his armor, beginning with his tall boots and working up to his hip guards. He gently drops them to the ground, and attempts to stand, hand falling to the princesses shoulder to steady himself. With the other hand he struggles with buttons, suddenly grateful he wore one of his few nicer pairs of unders.

Working together, they peeled off the linen, and to his dismay, the blood had soaked the bottom of his boxers as well. He sat back down once the pants were around his ankles, and began rolling up the bloodied side.

The gash was deep and wide, diagonally splitting his skin in a gruesome display. A small bit of blood dripped to the floor, and he winced. “Apologies, my Lady.”

[most-mid-lady-in-the-land]

she can’t help but notice how instantaneous his reaction was to her words, putting that away as a treat for Regular Elizabeth. right now, she needs to focus.

“no need to apologize for getting your thigh slashed open, gods this looks rough. i should be able to fix this, but it shall certainly scar, and the process might hurt.”

she runs her thumb over the split, beginning to sing quietly in an ancient language, voice like a cool breeze on a sunny day, soothing, clear, and beautiful. the wound starts to knit itself back together as she furrows her brow in deep concentration. she finishes the tune, then leans over the slash, whispering directly into the wound, “Heal.”

and it does. it finishes repairing arteries, binding skin, weaving fresh tissue. she knows it hurts, so she encourages, “you’re doing so well, william. you were strong and brave in the tunnels, and you’re strong and brave now. almost done…..there we go, all finished.”

she lays her head on his large thigh, turning her head just enough to place over the now-healed scar. “you took that like a champion, ser. i’ve seen many a weak man damn near pass out, but you did so well for me.”

she’s letting regular, teasing elizabeth return, her focused healer mind switching back to ideas of mischief and debauchery. she smile up at him and asks jokingly, “feel better?”

[ser-william-the-third]

As the Healer began to sing her song, he felt the pain return. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug, and rapid-onset healing is a hell of a narcan. He bit down on his glove to keep from screaming, instead whining and whimpering as his felt knit together. Tears began to soak his face, but he kept still. Her words of encouragement helped, grounding him and giving him something to focus on.

The tears slowed, and he removed his gloved hand from his mouth. Sliding off the glove and gently threading his hand into Liz’s hair, he took a deep, shaken breath. “Thank you. That’s…a lot better. How… are you a mage, too?” He asked, still treading his fingers through her golden locks.

[most-mid-lady-in-the-land]

she looked up at him, still on her knees, and suddenly the position they were in hit her like a Ye Olde Bus. she turns bright pink, barely managing to stammer out, “y- you’re welcome ser,” the title now feeling like a loaded weapon either one of them could fire at any moment.

before elizabeth loses her focus completely, she explains quickly, “when i was learning how to focus my Charms, i worked under a sorcerer and we discovered my Innate magic by accident….. i’m no real magician, but most of what i know is healing magic, with a small arsenal of attack spells. it’s not much, just some basics.”

she rises to her feet, still standing between his legs, and tenderly wipes the tear tracks on his face with her thumbs. leaning down, she kisses him softly, not much longer than a second, before pulling away, panicking.

“i- i am so sorry ser that shan’t happen again oh gods i cannot believe i did that i didnt even ask how could i be so thoughtless i swear i shall let you be now and i shall never be too untoward with my advances and i am again so so so sorry william- “

she keeps rambling, trying to distance herself from the knight.

[ser-william-the-third]

“Wait. No.”

Seeing Liz began to draw away, he reached out and grabbed the hem of her nightgown, pulling her back to him.

With his gauntlet around the small of her back, he bought his hand up to her jaw and pulled her back down to him, returning the kiss with much more force than probably necessary. He felt her gasp into his mouth, before kissing him back with a fervor. Behind her, he took off his remaining glove and dropped it, placing both of his hands around her supple waist.

She tasted like sweet raspberries and honey, and her lips. Oh Stars, her lips were so soft he could touch them forever. The ruffles and lace under his hands did nought to conceal how warm they were, and how securely he held.

[fae-prince-carnelian]

A letter is waiting for Carnelian when he arrives home, and a large hunting bird sleeping on the handrail. She has a red string tied to her left leg, and an eye charm that Carn would notice matched the charm William wore.

“Carn,

I heard you were at the Bloodhaven Event as well, though I was a bit indisposed at the time. I apologize for not seeing you there. Did you enjoy yourself? I wish I could say I did, but for I, most of the Ball was spent wondering dark haunted caverns. I’ve sent Page to deliver this to you, and I hope she knows where to go. I hope you write back, I fear you may be the only person I can think of to ask questions that arose from this past week.

-Will”

@ser-william-the-third

The bird finds Carnelian out in the woods. Their reply is returned scribbled on the back of Will's:

"WILLIAM.

I looked for you during the Ball but I didn't find you. I suppose that explains why. Dark caverns?? What for? There was a party to enjoy!

I had a fine time. There were weirdly a lot of fae and what felt like a lot of people scared of fae. I'm pretty sure one squire drank all my punch but I think he had a good time.

Are you home yet? Letters are boring, I'll visit.

-C"

[ser-william-the-third]

While penning a letter to the KPS, Page returned with Carnelian’s. He sent a note with her again.

“C-

I am home now, with new scars and new stories. When you have time, I invite you in. A warning, my home is beyond wrecked, but you’ll come to understand why.

-Will”

[ser-william-the-third]

Tw: sfx wound, no blood.

A still from @most-mid-lady-in-the-land and Ser William’s healing scene.

[ser-william-the-third]

((answer this whenever you finish your quest, no rush 🤍))

elizabeth is laying on top of her bedcovers, clad in a short pink nightgown and matching ruffled socks. her feet kick behind her lazily as she reads. she had so much fun at the masquerade, but the dancing had only served to wake her up more. she’s certain she won’t sleep a wink tonight.

a knock sounds at her door, and thinking it was a maid, or another princess coming to gossip, she stays where she is and languidly calls out, “come in!”

Ser William Clover the Third stumbles in through the door, covered in black goop and blood, smelling of magic and ash. He helmet is under his arm, leather armor still fastened securely. Seeing the Princess’ wide eyes, he quickly says “Mostly not mine.” There’s a cut above his eye, and he’s limping, favoring his right side. “It’s done.”

[most-mid-lady-in-the-land]

"fucking hells, william, sit down!" she practically shouts, hopping up and grabbing his arm to guide him to the chair at her vanity.

once he's been deposited, she hurries into the bathroom, bringing out a few clean rags and a bowl of water. she begins to tenderly clean up his face and neck, gentle as to not accidentally discover an injury under the grime. she's asking constant questions, hurried and concerned.

"what happened, why are you limping, who's blood is this, did your plans work, where are you injured, may i heal you?"

she's checking him all over, standing between his legs to examine his face. grabbing his chin, her gaze softens from Healer to just elizabeth, whispering, "are you alright? more than just physically too?"

[ser-william-the-third]

Blinking, he was suddenly sitting, and Liz was between his knees in a tiny gown and frilly socks, dabbing at his face with cool cloth. Her hair was unbound, and her brows furrowed. Did he have a concussion? His head swam, and she almost seemed to glow.

“I found it. The phylactery. I shattered what I could, then burned the rest. I fought a couple ghouls. Maybe a corpse? Definitely a shade.” He stiffened as she brushed over his brow, but said nothing. “Um. Yeah. And yes, yeah.” He hoped she understood. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, his throat dry. He tapped his thigh where Elizabeth could see a patch of blood seeping through the pants under his leather armor.

[most-mid-lady-in-the-land]

“will, i’d hoped this might be under different circumstances, but i have to ask you to take off your pants. i can heal that much right now. we’ll discuss what happened more in depth later, but i need to stop the bleeding, ok?”

she drops to her knees as she speaks so she can be eye-level with his thigh, looking up at him through her lashes. placing a gentle hand on his knee, she subconsciously starts tracing soothing patterns on his leg, biting her lip in anxiety and concern for the handsome knight in front of her.

[ser-william-the-third]

His face went red. She’s on her knees. Between his legs, thick lashes framing concerned big blown eyes- Stars, now is not the time, William, get ahold of yourself! He begins to unbuckle his armor, beginning with his tall boots and working up to his hip guards. He gently drops them to the ground, and attempts to stand, hand falling to the princesses shoulder to steady himself. With the other hand he struggles with buttons, suddenly grateful he wore one of his few nicer pairs of unders.

Working together, they peeled off the linen, and to his dismay, the blood had soaked the bottom of his boxers as well. He sat back down once the pants were around his ankles, and began rolling up the bloodied side.

The gash was deep and wide, diagonally splitting his skin in a gruesome display. A small bit of blood dripped to the floor, and he winced. “Apologies, my Lady.”

[most-mid-lady-in-the-land]

she can’t help but notice how instantaneous his reaction was to her words, putting that away as a treat for Regular Elizabeth. right now, she needs to focus.

“no need to apologize for getting your thigh slashed open, gods this looks rough. i should be able to fix this, but it shall certainly scar, and the process might hurt.”

she runs her thumb over the split, beginning to sing quietly in an ancient language, voice like a cool breeze on a sunny day, soothing, clear, and beautiful. the wound starts to knit itself back together as she furrows her brow in deep concentration. she finishes the tune, then leans over the slash, whispering directly into the wound, “Heal.”

and it does. it finishes repairing arteries, binding skin, weaving fresh tissue. she knows it hurts, so she encourages, “you’re doing so well, william. you were strong and brave in the tunnels, and you’re strong and brave now. almost done…..there we go, all finished.”

she lays her head on his large thigh, turning her head just enough to place over the now-healed scar. “you took that like a champion, ser. i’ve seen many a weak man damn near pass out, but you did so well for me.”

she’s letting regular, teasing elizabeth return, her focused healer mind switching back to ideas of mischief and debauchery. she smile up at him and asks jokingly, “feel better?”

[ser-william-the-third]

As the Healer began to sing her song, he felt the pain return. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug, and rapid-onset healing is a hell of a narcan. He bit down on his glove to keep from screaming, instead whining and whimpering as his felt knit together. Tears began to soak his face, but he kept still. Her words of encouragement helped, grounding him and giving him something to focus on.

The tears slowed, and he removed his gloved hand from his mouth. Sliding off the glove and gently threading his hand into Liz’s hair, he took a deep, shaken breath. “Thank you. That’s…a lot better. How… are you a mage, too?” He asked, still treading his fingers through her golden locks.

[transcyberism]

sometimes I almost forget slut is a derogatory term. it's so friend shaped to me. I love when things are slutty. I love sluts and slutting it up. it's a cute word. make every day sluttier than your last. sluttttt

[transcyberism]

the kink bloggers found this post and are putting horny stuff in my notifications but I'm not even mad. the sluts are in the notes of the slut positivity post. all is as it should be.

[dailycatsblog]

[ser-william-the-third]

((answer this whenever you finish your quest, no rush 🤍))

elizabeth is laying on top of her bedcovers, clad in a short pink nightgown and matching ruffled socks. her feet kick behind her lazily as she reads. she had so much fun at the masquerade, but the dancing had only served to wake her up more. she’s certain she won’t sleep a wink tonight.

a knock sounds at her door, and thinking it was a maid, or another princess coming to gossip, she stays where she is and languidly calls out, “come in!”

Ser William Clover the Third stumbles in through the door, covered in black goop and blood, smelling of magic and ash. He helmet is under his arm, leather armor still fastened securely. Seeing the Princess’ wide eyes, he quickly says “Mostly not mine.” There’s a cut above his eye, and he’s limping, favoring his right side. “It’s done.”

[most-mid-lady-in-the-land]

"fucking hells, william, sit down!" she practically shouts, hopping up and grabbing his arm to guide him to the chair at her vanity.

once he's been deposited, she hurries into the bathroom, bringing out a few clean rags and a bowl of water. she begins to tenderly clean up his face and neck, gentle as to not accidentally discover an injury under the grime. she's asking constant questions, hurried and concerned.

"what happened, why are you limping, who's blood is this, did your plans work, where are you injured, may i heal you?"

she's checking him all over, standing between his legs to examine his face. grabbing his chin, her gaze softens from Healer to just elizabeth, whispering, "are you alright? more than just physically too?"

[ser-william-the-third]

Blinking, he was suddenly sitting, and Liz was between his knees in a tiny gown and frilly socks, dabbing at his face with cool cloth. Her hair was unbound, and her brows furrowed. Did he have a concussion? His head swam, and she almost seemed to glow.

“I found it. The phylactery. I shattered what I could, then burned the rest. I fought a couple ghouls. Maybe a corpse? Definitely a shade.” He stiffened as she brushed over his brow, but said nothing. “Um. Yeah. And yes, yeah.” He hoped she understood. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, his throat dry. He tapped his thigh where Elizabeth could see a patch of blood seeping through the pants under his leather armor.

[most-mid-lady-in-the-land]

“will, i’d hoped this might be under different circumstances, but i have to ask you to take off your pants. i can heal that much right now. we’ll discuss what happened more in depth later, but i need to stop the bleeding, ok?”

she drops to her knees as she speaks so she can be eye-level with his thigh, looking up at him through her lashes. placing a gentle hand on his knee, she subconsciously starts tracing soothing patterns on his leg, biting her lip in anxiety and concern for the handsome knight in front of her.

[ser-william-the-third]

His face went red. She’s on her knees. Between his legs, thick lashes framing concerned big blown eyes- Stars, now is not the time, William, get ahold of yourself! He begins to unbuckle his armor, beginning with his tall boots and working up to his hip guards. He gently drops them to the ground, and attempts to stand, hand falling to the princesses shoulder to steady himself. With the other hand he struggles with buttons, suddenly grateful he wore one of his few nicer pairs of unders.

Working together, they peeled off the linen, and to his dismay, the blood had soaked the bottom of his boxers as well. He sat back down once the pants were around his ankles, and began rolling up the bloodied side.

The gash was deep and wide, diagonally splitting his skin in a gruesome display. A small bit of blood dripped to the floor, and he winced. “Apologies, my Lady.”

[ser-william-the-third]

((answer this whenever you finish your quest, no rush 🤍))

elizabeth is laying on top of her bedcovers, clad in a short pink nightgown and matching ruffled socks. her feet kick behind her lazily as she reads. she had so much fun at the masquerade, but the dancing had only served to wake her up more. she’s certain she won’t sleep a wink tonight.

a knock sounds at her door, and thinking it was a maid, or another princess coming to gossip, she stays where she is and languidly calls out, “come in!”

Ser William Clover the Third stumbles in through the door, covered in black goop and blood, smelling of magic and ash. He helmet is under his arm, leather armor still fastened securely. Seeing the Princess’ wide eyes, he quickly says “Mostly not mine.” There’s a cut above his eye, and he’s limping, favoring his right side. “It’s done.”

[most-mid-lady-in-the-land]

"fucking hells, william, sit down!" she practically shouts, hopping up and grabbing his arm to guide him to the chair at her vanity.

once he's been deposited, she hurries into the bathroom, bringing out a few clean rags and a bowl of water. she begins to tenderly clean up his face and neck, gentle as to not accidentally discover an injury under the grime. she's asking constant questions, hurried and concerned.

"what happened, why are you limping, who's blood is this, did your plans work, where are you injured, may i heal you?"

she's checking him all over, standing between his legs to examine his face. grabbing his chin, her gaze softens from Healer to just elizabeth, whispering, "are you alright? more than just physically too?"

[ser-william-the-third]

Blinking, he was suddenly sitting, and Liz was between his knees in a tiny gown and frilly socks, dabbing at his face with cool cloth. Her hair was unbound, and her brows furrowed. Did he have a concussion? His head swam, and she almost seemed to glow.

“I found it. The phylactery. I shattered what I could, then burned the rest. I fought a couple ghouls. Maybe a corpse? Definitely a shade.” He stiffened as she brushed over his brow, but said nothing. “Um. Yeah. And yes, yeah.” He hoped she understood. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, his throat dry. He tapped his thigh where Elizabeth could see a patch of blood seeping through the pants under his leather armor.

[ser-william-the-third]

((answer this whenever you finish your quest, no rush 🤍))

elizabeth is laying on top of her bedcovers, clad in a short pink nightgown and matching ruffled socks. her feet kick behind her lazily as she reads. she had so much fun at the masquerade, but the dancing had only served to wake her up more. she’s certain she won’t sleep a wink tonight.

a knock sounds at her door, and thinking it was a maid, or another princess coming to gossip, she stays where she is and languidly calls out, “come in!”

Ser William Clover the Third stumbles in through the door, covered in black goop and blood, smelling of magic and ash. He helmet is under his arm, leather armor still fastened securely. Seeing the Princess’ wide eyes, he quickly says “Mostly not mine.” There’s a cut above his eye, and he’s limping, favoring his right side. “It’s done.”

[fuckthisshit-ugh]

please read this even if you're not indian. especially if you're not indian.

you've seen the jokes. india is "dirty", indians are "everywhere", why don't they fix their own country. ok. let me tell you why, and what's happening right now while nobody's watching.

first, the history you skipped: britain ruled india for two centuries and drained it. economist utsa patnaik's research estimates around $45 trillion in today's money was taken. the india that got independence in 1947 was one of the poorest countries on earth. every "why is india like this" question starts there. you don't get to profit off a robbery and then mock the crime scene.

now, what's happening RIGHT NOW:

in may the question paper for NEET leaked. that's the national medical entrance exam. over 2.2 million students took it. cancelled. years of studying, families' savings poured into coaching, gone overnight because someone sold the paper. students died by suicide after. these were kids who wanted to be doctors.

and out of that came a protest movement. a gen z group called the cockroach janta party, started by a 30 year old named abhijeet dipke, got 22 million instagram followers within DAYS. they've been doing a sit-in at jantar mantar in delhi demanding education minister dharmendra pradhan resign.

and then there's sonam wangchuk. if you've watched 3 idiots, he's the real engineer the character was based on. built solar schools in ladakh. invented ice stupas so himalayan villages have water. spent his whole life on education. he's 59 and he's been on hunger strike for 17+ days now. reporters went to see him this week and he was too weak to talk. and the troll armies are calling him "anti national" and "foreign funded". a man starving himself for other people's children. that's the thing here, anyone who asks a question is suddenly a traitor.

it's not one incident, it's everywhere you look:

• infrastructure worth thousands of crores failing within months of the ribbon cutting. tunnels collapsing in regions where heavy rain is a guarantee, not a surprise.

• youth unemployment near 10% for ages 15 to 29, 13.6% in cities. in a country of 1.42 billion where more than half the population is young.

• only about the top 3% of indians earn above 10 lakh a year. meanwhile billionaire wealth keeps ballooning and the headlines celebrate it.

• manipur burned for over two years. an ethnic conflict, tens of thousands displaced, and the prime minister barely said the word manipur while it happened.

• journalists raided. critics' houses bulldozed. activists sitting in jail for years without trial under laws like UAPA. our press freedom ranking has cratered.

• even the petrol is a fight now, ethanol blending pushed through while drivers complain about their engines and get no straight answers.

and through all of it, the PM, who came to power on religious polarisation (americans, sound familiar?), travels abroad for photo ops and has not held one single open press conference in over a decade. not one.

what i'm asking:

if you're not indian: share this. our media mostly won't cover any of it because the big outlets are owned by the same billionaires the government serves. the only reason wangchuk's fast is getting any coverage is people refusing to look away.

if you ARE indian: speak up even if you're comfortable. especially if you're comfortable. join the protests. add to this, correct me, translate it. staying quiet is a choice when nothing in this post touches your life.

india is not "dirty". india was robbed, and it's being robbed again, from the inside this time. but it's also the country where a 59 year old will starve for strangers' kids and 22 million young people will rally behind a party literally named after cockroaches, because cockroaches survive everything.

we can still save her. but only loudly.

reblog. share. don't scroll past.

[sweetnommnm818-deactivated20250]

it’s okay to have unethical sexual fantasies about me in fact i encourage it!💗