#Ramses Answers

[prof-ramses]

Prof!! Opinions on the new chapters of Deltarune, if you've played them/checked them out already?

They were absolutely wild.

Chapter 3 played out largely how I expected, except I didn't foresee the literal mini-game.

Chapter 4 took some turns compared to my expectations but was absolutely phenomenal. (Jackenstein might be new all time favorite miniboss in any game)

[keikoyume]

You ever plan on drawing the other monsters from The Sounds of Nightmares? I would honestly love to see your interpretation of them.

Gosh, I’m so flattered to get asked for that🫣

I’ll think about it! I need to listen to their descriptions again but I’m quite interested to draw that mannequin like lady from the 5th episode.

[embersoftheorder]

their embarrassing memory from years ago

Bright. Night time shouldn't be this bright. Or was it day. These should be questions more than statements to Cheryl's throbbing head, but honestly rationality was not what she could muster at the moment. What she could remember was the dress she was in, lots of drinks, a lot of dancing, and finally ending up here. Where that was and where her dress had gone were becoming important followup questions.

Drawing the blanket, modesty became priority one as she tried to slowly sit up. It was mistake. Easing back again with a wince and groan she would blink a few times to eyeball the ceiling above her, which was very familiar to her now. It was home. Patting the old mattress and feeling the blanket reasserted these comforting factors. Sighing softly she would close her eyes and feel the old Drustvar wool between her fingers as it reminded her of home.

A sudden crash of cutlery and glass made her eyes snap open to the pain of the sun but the terror of not being alone. Wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, adrenaline shoved the lurching stomach and pounding head as she searched for a weapon of some time. Her axe was no where in sight and she was in her bedroom, a faint sense of relief seeing her dress from the previous night in a pile. Eventually her hand would grasp onto a letter opener she kept on her night table and stood shakily. It would rough holding her blanket in one hand and the makeshift knife in the other, but fighting naked might through off anyone. Or leave her totally exposed.

"Maybe I can just scare them," Cheryl muttered softly to herself as she crept to her bedroom door, the old wood flooring beneath her cold but thankfully silent to her weight. Her head would lean against the door, the wood cold and comforting to the pain as she closed her eyes as well to focus. Both were welcoming but treacherous as she needed to continue to maintain focus.

Heavy thumps of feet. Clattering dishware. Cooking fire. Food. The inquisitor's stomach rumbled in primal need at the idea of eating, hunger and nausea fighting for dominance which gave the edge to nausea.

Focus idiot, she could hear Eld scold her sharply. He'd never really called her names, but the inflection he usually used was never far off. Focus.

Gripping the letter opener in one hand and adjusting the blanket ends held tight she would take in a deep breath. One. Two. Three.

Her foot kicked the door, only then remembering it should be pulled if you were leaving the room. Her loud curse echoed in the bright lit morning as she danced back hopping on one foot. One foot was joined by two more as they came rushing up to her door and flung open.

"Cheryl? Ah! Good morning!" The deep baritone of a very red looking demon dwarfing the young woman as he practically filled up her apartment. Wide shoulders, huge crest, bright (literally) shining blue eyes, and a big toothy grin wrapped in tentacles and black hair. Ramses looked like every late night cautionary tale for young children, much as people had for years known only as the Eredar. The present had finally caught and much had changed in the last few years with many finding the dark times needing to be in the past. The Man'ari had been offered forgiveness for the most part though many would never forget. Still Ramses was doing his best to do his best despite the hatred and prejudices inflicted upon a 'man' of his stature.

It also didn't help he was also missing his clothes.

"How do you feel my friend?" His huge hands coming to rest on his hips as he grinned down at her.

Cheryl gaped a moment before pulling the blanket tighter around her comparatively tiny form. "What in the ever living fuck Ramses!?"

The red faced Man'ari tilted his head a bit as he rubbed at his head a moment as he looked down at her. "Living fuck? Is that a thing?"

"Damn it, put some clothes on!"

A slow blink before understanding kicked as he let out a 'ahhh' before stomping off a bit to grab a towel that barely helped anything. "Is this better?"

Not even in close, was all Cheryl could force herself not to admit as she looked away with her face feeling like it was matching his skin. "Much. What are you doing here? Why are you naked? Why am.."

A thought suddenly dawned on her as she stopped and widened her eyes as she looked back to him. "Oh Tides no. No No no no, we did not. Did we? No. NO we couldn't have. Could we?"

Ramses frowned in concentration as she babbled on, always having trouble with messy common language the people of the Alliance spoke. His large hands raising as she tried to calm her down. "Slow down, slow down. You are going to fast friend. I cannot understand. What are you so afraid of?"

"Ramses, did we?" Her free hand would come to motion to her underneath the blanket and then back to him. Her eye brows shot up as her face continued to warm and brighten. "You know."

A slow blink before Ramses began to laugh far to heartily, his voice bellowing against the walls as he slapped his belly. "Did we have sex?"

Only red was in Cheryl's face as she gaped, a thousand different thoughts racing through her brain. Did they? Did she? Did they use protection? Could she get pregnant from him? Would he want her to? Did she have feelings for him? Was this real? Should she in pain? From what we she saw before, she definitely should be.

Finally Ramses came to a calming as he reached up to wipe at his eyes and shook his head. "No friend, we did not."

A very long sigh let loose from Duun as all her previous fears deflated with a hint of regret at the thought of maybe something had been there. But in the long run, it was FAR better to not. He was a friend, colleague, and way to odd for her to imagine being anything more than partners.

But the real question finally came to mind.

"If we didn't why am I naked?" Cheryl peered up at him, new fears and suspicions arising as she asked.

"Oh, cause you popped like a boil last night," Ramses casually replied, his hands always speaking along with his words as he motioned from his belly to his mouth. "It was quite horrible."

Cheryl's eyes narrowed and a frown began to settle more on her face. "And why are you?"

"Well, how do you think you got home? I carried you. For a woman off an island, motions not good for you."

Embarrassment and shame filled her more as she bowed her head trying to sink in the mass of blankets to hide from his indirect teasing. "Tides, I think I have a problem."

"Oh you do," Ramses nodded sagely as he straightened again, his hand slipping to tighten the towel about his hips. Cheryl looked back up at him expecting more of a lecture and scolding from him, but the Man'ari thumbed behind him. "Food is burning for sure. It's a big problem."

The inquisitor let out a sigh as she shook her head, Ramses chuckling again as he turned to stomp back to her kitchen. "I am bad guy in sense, but I wold not take vantage of you in such a way. Very not nice you know?"

Rising from her puddle of blanket and pity, Cheryl would follow him toward the kitchen as her soft steps padded behind the hooves of the former legionnaire. "I mean, I think it works in both ways if I was that bad last night."

Ramses gave a shrug as he approached her stove to check on his simmering bits of meat, nodding as he flipped them over. "Good news, not burned."

"Besides, friend, you are as you would say, not my type," Ramses would use a fork to poke at the chop a couple more times before flipping it over.

"Oh?"

"OH yes, you are so small and I am," he would motion with his large hand to his frame. "I would break you."

Cheryl couldn't help but give a soft laugh as she made her way to a chair at her small kitchen table. "Some people would find that a challenge."

"Oh really? Well I have certain things I like," Ramses began to search her cupboards, the doors banging a few times as he delved for plates. "Generally six arms, flames, and horns do pretty amazing things."

She blinked and stared at his back as he let out a laugh as he found what he was looking for, speaking over his shoulder as he began to plate. "Two is nice, but when you see what four more can do."

Ramses turned back to her with a sharp toothed grin. "You can never go back."

@safrona-shadowsun

[callsign-relic]

going through a category 5 autism event rn

[annabelle--cane]

you with puppet imagery is like the spaceman lego guy with spaceships in the lego movie

I am simply an enthusiast

[nvrcmplt]

"Your smile is infectious." ( tyler )

He was a merry man, laughter was a medicine for all beings. His smile was contagious, infectious even now. He was bright, chipper and without much shadow in his light, so to be praised only made him flutter with a giggle. "Ramses! You're such a flatter, dude. Thanks." Legs kick over wall, the sunset bright and bouncing from his features. Head turns with sea-greens shimmering in their watch. Amazed by something so soothing and mythical, his hand reached out to pat Ramses' on the shoulder before tugging the man into a half-hug.

"Your smile ain't half bad either."

[darkcat8]

This is probably too random, but it is a cute idea I just got is the concept of Leo introducing the GA to classic/family board games to relax since life is not being a warrior 24/7

Some games are more competitive than others but still fun. Apis and Neith might be the more competitive of the group and break the table if they lost more than 2 times...

Poor Leo, he just wants to do something so his friends can relax but it ends with disaster...

Can you imagine an activity they can all do together to relax???

hi

If the GA was playing a bord game, I'd like to think it would some like this

???: I HATE YOU!

Kha: HO WELL, NEXT TIME DON'T STEAL MY MONOPOLY!

Kefer: Neith, give leo your $200 your Landes on his property.

Neith: No!!! He's in jail. I'm not giving money to a criminal.

Leo getting frustrated: that's not how you...PLAAAYY!!

Hyksos: ramses, why is leo screaming?

Ramses: Shut the f*ck up hyksos! You're not gonna talk after stealing my last railroad!

Horus: I WISH I WAS NEVER BORN!!

Kefer giving in to the chaos: ME TOO! YOU THINK I WANTED THIS!?

Apis flipping the table: AHHH!!!

This is based on a video from tik tok. Here is the link if you're interested https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7vpEC2/

I feel like playing basketball is like they like to relax. I don't know if everyone else would like doing this, but I feel horus would knit during his free time like blankets, quilts stuff like that he would especially like knit with the really soft cotton.

[monarhrh]

tag dump for ramses osiris!

*˖ ⊹       ramses osiris     ☆ﾟ       (  thread  )

*˖ ⊹       ramses osiris       ☆ﾟ      (  musings  )

*˖ ⊹       ramses osiris       ☆ﾟ      (  mirror  )

*˖ ⊹       ramses osiris      ☆ﾟ       (  answered  )

*˖ ⊹       ramses osiris      ☆ﾟ      (  ft.  )

[scoutssun]

❛  perhaps you should remember who’s in charge of this expedition.  ❜

A smirk grows on Greta's face as she answers. "It's Erwin." And just as quickly the smirk falls. She wears Olou's ODM gear holding her arms and legs out to hold her balance. It had been through the encouragement of Olou and Eld that she try it, just in case.

It was night, and Titan's aren't active at night - perhaps the only reason it had even been suggested - while Captain Levi was occupied. That had been Gunther and Petra's job, all so Olou could get the Medic in the ODM gear and test her balance. Only, Captain Levi was smarter than many people in the world, and the stalling Gunther and Petra had been doing had not been good enough. And Erwin had said no. Only under Erwin's supervision was she to be in ODM gear, and certainly not under the supervision of Olou, who was likely to try and sabotage her to see her reflexes.

"... Please don't tell the Commander." Olou and Eld had backed away from her, and Greta certainly wasn't in a position to get herself down without some embarrassment. "Please- where are you cowards going?!" She demands of them, but both Olou and Eld suddenly seem quite interested in pointing out stars to each other. Greta groans, pout forming.

[prof-ramses]

A really random thought occurred to me today:

Gaslight District>GD>God Damned

Huh, interesting. I doubt that's fully intentional but I'll keep it in mind.

[emma23]

Cracking the code :

Steven grant x reader

The early evening glow painted the small London flat in warm tones, the sounds of bustling city life seeping faintly through the windows. Steven stood at the counter in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, fretting over a pan of vegetables that were threatening to burn. His brows were knit together in concentration as he stirred with quick, deliberate movements.

"Steven, it smells amazing already," you said from the table, leaning your chin on your hand as you watched him.

He glanced over his shoulder, cheeks reddening slightly under your gaze. "Well, I don’t want to mess it up. You’ve had a long day—you deserve a proper dinner."

You smiled at his sincerity, your heart swelling with affection. Steven had always been like this: kind to a fault, always putting your needs before his own. It was one of the things you adored about him, though you also worried he didn’t give himself enough credit.

"Need any help?" you offered, already knowing his answer.

He shook his head quickly. "No, no, it’s fine. You just sit tight, love. I’ve got it under control."

"Are you sure? You’re looking a little… frazzled," you teased gently, nodding toward the slight chaos of the counter.

Steven let out a soft laugh, his tension easing. "Alright, maybe just a bit. But it’s nothing I can’t handle. These veggies don’t stand a chance."

You chuckled, standing up to walk over to him. "Well, if they fight back, I’ll be here to back you up."

Dinner was a success—though Steven spent most of it downplaying his cooking skills—and now the two of you were tidying up. You washed the dishes while he dried, the comfortable rhythm of domesticity wrapping around you both like a warm blanket.

"Do you think we’re too boring?" you asked suddenly, glancing over at him.

Steven paused, a plate in one hand and a towel in the other. "Boring? What do you mean?"

"I don’t know," you said with a shrug, rinsing another plate. "We never go out to fancy places or do wild things like other couples. We just… stay in and cook or watch documentaries."

Steven tilted his head, considering this. "Well, I suppose we’re not exactly jet-setters, are we? But… I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I like what we have. Don’t you?"

You met his eyes, his sincerity disarming you as always. "Yeah, I do."

He smiled, relief washing over his features. "Good. Because I’d rather spend a quiet night in with you than do anything else."

Later that night, the two of you found yourselves in the kitchen again, this time preparing for a baking experiment. A recipe for chocolate chip cookies had caught Steven’s eye earlier in the week, and he had insisted you try it together.

"Alright," Steven said, holding up an egg with a look of intense focus. "Do you want me to crack the eggs, or do you want to try?"

You raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. "Steven, it’s not rocket science. I think I can handle it."

"Suit yourself," he said, stepping aside to let you take the reins.

You picked up an egg, determined to prove your point. But the moment you applied pressure, it shattered messily in your hand, yolk dripping onto the counter.

Steven blinked, then burst out laughing. "Alright, maybe it’s a little harder than it looks!"

"Don’t," you warned, narrowing your eyes at him as you tried to suppress your own laughter.

"I didn’t say anything!" he protested, though the grin on his face was impossible to miss.

"Fine," you said, grabbing another egg. "Let’s see you do it, Mr. Expert."

Steven stepped up confidently, cracking the egg with a practiced motion and depositing it cleanly into the bowl. He turned to you with a smug smile.

"Show-off," you muttered, though you couldn’t help but smile.

As the cookies baked, you both ended up on the couch, a lighthearted debate about the best Ancient Egyptian pharaoh filling the room.

"Ramses II," Steven said, gesturing animatedly. "He was a proper legend! Built all those temples, had over a hundred kids—"

"And yet he still didn’t invent chocolate chip cookies," you interrupted with a smirk.

Steven gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. "How dare you disrespect the great Ramses like that!"

You burst out laughing, leaning against his shoulder. "You’re ridiculous, Steven."

"And you love it," he replied, his tone teasing but his gaze soft.

You looked up at him, your laughter fading as the moment grew quieter, the weight of his affection evident in his brown eyes. Without thinking, you leaned in, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was soft and unhurried.

When you pulled back, Steven’s cheeks were flushed, but his smile was radiant. "I really do love you, you know," he said quietly.

"I know," you replied, your heart full. "I love you too."

The cookies turned out slightly burnt, but neither of you cared.

"Next time," Steven said, breaking off a crispy edge, "we’re sticking to store-bought dough."

"Deal," you said, laughing as you reached for another piece.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt perfectly at home.

"You’ve got yolk in your hair, love," Steven said with a grin, pointing at your head. You stared at him in disbelief, then grabbed a handful of flour and threw it at him.

[ramsayxme]

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven / Chapter Eight / Chapter Nine / AO3 Link

TW - violence, murder, flaying, murder (of a child), physical abuse, emotional abuse, sex, smut, full blown stockholm syndrome, gaslighting yourself, ramsay bolton. I hope you enjoyed my 10 chapters! Thank you so much for reading x

Chapter Ten: And Full Of Terrors

You both awoke to a servant knocking on your door and your infant crying in his bed. You rolled out of bed to grab your squalling baby and Ramsay pulled on trousers to answer the knocking. Ramses quickly latched to your breast, ready for breakfast. You laid back in bed, pulling the blankets high to shield your body from the servant. Ramsay opened the door and a very nervous young man stood on the other side. "My Lord. I am sorry if I woke you, but there is something happening in the courtyard you need to attend to." His voice broke multiple times through the sentence.

Ramsay huffed. "Alright. Let me get dressed... and this better be important." He shook his finger at the servant. "I'll be out in a minute." He shut the door, allow privacy once again. Ramsay looked at you and rolled his eyes regarding the servant. "Sorry, My Lady. I have to go handle this." He pulled a dusty grey waffle-knit over his head before donning his leathers. "Wait a moment and let me come with you. The Little Lord can start his lessons early." You smiled. Ramsay chuckled. "Fine, but bundle him up." Of course you would. Ramsay held his son as you got yourself ready to leave as well and swaddled baby Ramses in the finest furs. You tied him to your chest so the three of you could head down to the courtyard.

You closely followed your husband, his cloak draped over his powerful shoulders and swaying with his steps. With each swing of the cloak, you caught a glimpse of the handful of knives and daggers that he kept on his waistband. You loved how powerful he was. His curls coiled together on the back of his neck and his ears peered out from the dark waves. He walked with confidence, each step oozing of power and purpose. You felt like the most powerful woman to exist as you floated behind him, his heir cooing at your breast.

You exited the stone walls and were met with icy air hitting your face, your hands instinctively covering your baby with your cloak, wrapping it around his tiny body. Ramsay wasn't affected by the cold, his hair blowing softly as it began collecting snowflakes. There was a small group of men, their metal helmets reflecting the snow and making them gleam. "What is it?" Ramsay barked as you approached the men. Without speaking, they began leading Ramsay to the large entrance of the Dreadfort. The wooden doors were towering over you as they pushed them open. On the other side stood a shivering woman, frail and afraid. She held hands with a small boy who looked to be around 4 years old.

Ramsay stood still as a statue, staring at the woman. He turned his head towards the men, and put his hands up, his leather gloves squeaking as he pointed to the woman. "And how is this my concern?" The men nodded and looked at the woman. She had tattered clothes and long blonde hair that was matted in knots. The small boy had black hair and piercing blue eyes. His jaw was prominent and he wasn't shivering. You stared at your husband as he took in the sight.

"Ramsay..." the woman practically whispered. "You don't remember me?" You felt your heart jump, the jealousy and anger bubbling up in your chest. You tensed your body and wished you had brought your knives with you. "No." Your husband said, "Why would I?" She took a step closer, causing all of the men to tense up into attack mode. Ramsay chuckled. "I don't think she will be attacking me. Let her speak." The men relaxed, stepping back to their previous spots. "Ramsay... years ago we lay together. I woke up and you had fled, but..." her voice trailed off as she turned to the boy. Ramsay stared at the child. You were unable to read his expression.

"This is your son." She put her hand on the boys back and gently pushed him forward. He took a few small steps closer to Ramsay and stared up at him. Ramsay gazed at the boy intently. "No, no... if he is mine, he is a bastard, not my son. This is my son, my true heir." He turned to point to you and Ramses. Your eyes were locked on the woman, hatred boiling in your chest and heat pouring into your cheeks. She met your eyes and curtsied with her rags. "My Lady, I mean no disrespect, I mean no trouble-" You interrupted her. "If you meant no trouble, you should have stayed far away. Shut the gates." You demanded the men.

Ramsay held his hand up. "Bring them to the guest chambers. My wife and I will need to discuss a few things but until then, they can rest." Your jaw dropped, your fury now directed at your husband. Ramsay turned on his heels and grabbed your arm. You followed him to the kennels where it was quiet. "Ramsay! I will not-" He interrupted you with his hand on your throat, pushing you backwards into a stone wall. "Let me speak!" He hissed, spitting on your face. "I do not want a bastard son and I do not want this whore woman. I am simply allowing them to come inside until I decide what I want to do with them. Do not question my power again, do you understand?" You stared at your husband, teeth grinding together as you nodded.

"Wonderful. Now, for all we know, this woman is lying. I don't recognize her." You rolled your eyes. "The boy looks like you." You muttered, jealousy oozing from your lips. Ramsay's face twisted into a grin. "Why, you're jealous aren't you? Does it bother you to think about me fucking her before I even knew you?" You growl as you shove Ramsay. Your shove barely moves your sturdy husband. He chuckles. "You're angry. I like when you're angry. My wild wife." He coos, nuzzling into your neck. Ramses is asleep at your chest, so Ramsay can't press his body against you. He kisses your neck, sucking hard and leaving a mark.

While he kisses your neck, he whispers into your ear. "We can get rid of them. Shall we feed them to the dogs? Burn them? Flay them? I'll let you pick, my love... my gift to you." You purr when you hear him say this. You press your lips against his, moaning with passion as your tongue slithers into his mouth. You bite his lower lip hard and twist it between your teeth, making him gasp and pull away. "My feisty bitch!" He grins, blood dripping down his chin. You smile. "Let me take care of the woman. You do whatever you want with the bastard."

Ramsay agreed to this fairly quickly. You had a strong inkling that he found your possessiveness over him quite attractive. Nobody was going to interrupt your life, touch your husband, or push your child to the side. "I think I will tell the bastard that I accept him as mine and want to show him around his new home. When we come in here," Ramsay pointed around the kennels. "I will put him in my biggest girl's kennel and let her get a nice treat." He grinned wickedly at you. "And what will you do?" He kissed your cheek before kissing the black hair on your son's head.

"I want to flay her." You whispered. Ramsay's eyebrows raised. "You've never flayed anyone before, love." You nodded. "I know. I want to flay her, though. I want it to be slow and painful, so she will regret that she ever left her home. And just before she dies, I will tell her what happened to her bastard son!" You chuckled as you watched Ramsay's eyes grow wide with lust. He lets out a snarl as he leans into your neck and bites down, his hot mouth leaving another mark on you. "I'll fetch the boy. You head inside and I'll send the woman in." He whispered before he vanished behind the stone walls.

You ran to your chambers to grab your flaying knife, bow, and some arrows before heading to the torture room. You lay Ramses down for a nap, kissing him on his little forehead. Once you reached the room with the large wooden X, you snuck into a dark corner hidden from view. You remembered Reek in that moment, his frail body dangling from the large wooden cross. More importantly, you remembered the sex that you and Ramsay had on the floor, a wave of fluttering rose in your core as you remembered how it felt. Shortly after you arrived in the room, a few men of the Dreadfort brought the woman into the room, kicking and shrieking. You bit your lip in anticipation, excited to flay this whore that wanted to ruin your life.

She was left on the X, crying and wailing. "Please! My son and I will leave right away! I just thought Lord Bolton would want to meet his son!" She was flailing wildly, the chains clanging on her wrists and ankles. You felt furious at that statement and decided that now was the time to walk out from the shadows. "He does know his son." You said, rising from the darkness of the corner. She trembled as she looked at you. "I gave him his son, his true born heir. Not some bastard he had with a whore. He doesn't love you!" Your voice was gruff, anger settling in your throat.

"Please... We will leave right now. Forgive us." She begged, her eyes dark and wide with fear. You smirked as you got closer to her. "I think it's too late for that." You pulled your knife from behind your back and pointed it at her. "You walked in here like you would take my place. Did you really think that would work?" You pressed the point of your knife to her throat. "No, My Lady, I don't want to take your place. I wouldn't want to be with that monster!" She cried out as you pressed the metal against her skin.

"He is NOT a monster." You growled through your gritted teeth. "Take it back." She shook her head, tears falling from her eyes. "He is a monster, and so are you if you don't see it!" You laughed at her ignorance. "Stupid whore." You muttered as you pressed the knife even harder against her skin, nearly piercing it. You heard the faint sound of barking from the window. You gasped theatrically and leaned in to the woman. "Do you hear that? Shh, listen..."

She started blubbering when she heard a scream when the dogs began barking even louder. "Terrible. I am sorry you had to hear that... but, the dogs have to eat." You grinned, staring at her as she cried out for her bastard son. "Where should I start peeling first?" You asked the woman between her sobs. "Please!" She blubbered. You rolled your eyes as you leaned down, slicing the skin open across her kneecaps. She howled in pain as your knife slipped through her skin easily. You grabbed the flap of skin that hung over her fresh wound and began slowly but steadily pulling it up towards yourself. Her screams were deafening.

Suddenly, you felt hands on your hips. It startled you, since you couldn't hear anyone coming on account of the woman's whining. You spun around to see Ramsay smiling at you proudly. He had blood on his arms and hands, his leathers were off and he was only wearing the grey loose-fitting shirt. You pressed into his body with yours, leaning fully into his arms as you kissed him. You felt warmth immediately between your thighs as he gripped your waist. "Well done, well done!" He chuckled, admiring what you'd done to the woman so far. You felt a tingling sensation in your stomach when you knew Ramsay was impressed by you. "Shall we finish the job together, my love?" Ramsay asked, releasing his own flaying knife from its sheath.

--

The woman was completely flayed and the bastard was no longer existing. Ramsay was breathing heavy as he stepped back from the wooden X and draped his arm around your shoulders, you both had bloody hands and arms. You stared at your husband, watching him breathe through his grinding teeth. He peered over at you and flashed a smile. "I'm very proud of you." He raised his eyebrows and turned to you, placing a hand on your cheek. You felt your cheeks flush pink as you looked deeply into his pale eyes. You slammed your lips against his, moaning in his mouth.

You both dropped your knives with a loud clatter on the stone floor, desperately wrapping your arms around each other. He lifted you by your thighs and you wrapped your legs around his waist. You wanted him. You knew it would be wildly painful but you wanted him regardless. You wrapped your fingers in his hair and yanked, desire was taking over your body. He groaned into your mouth as he felt the dull pain at his skull. He walked with you over to a chair that was in the corner of the room, next to a small table which you promptly shoved over. He sat down with you on his lap.

You hiked up your skirt around your hips as he undid his trousers, just opening the front enough to release his hard cock that was begging to be touched by you. You wrapped your hands around his throat and squeezed mercilessly. His eyes bulged as you slowly slid down on his cock, the pain was intense but you wanted to please him no matter what it took. He groaned loudly when your cunt was around him, squeezing it tightly in your walls. You continued to choke him with one hand, the other hand grabbed a handful of hair at the nape of his neck and you yanked.

His neck was fully exposed to you and you leaned forward to suck and bite the soft skin. He moaned as you rode him with desperation. You moaned with a mixture of intense pain and pleasure as you bounced on his lap, his cock pounding in and out of you. He held onto your skirt, pulling and pushing with your body. You pulled the hand back that was in his hair and you slapped him hard, his skin immediately flushing red where your hand landed. He growled with pleasure as you choked him harder.

You reached behind his waist and pulled one of his knives from his waistband. You pointed it at his neck, barely pressing the tip against his skin. A low moan crept out of his lips as you nicked his collarbone, blood began trickling out. You sliced down his shirt, freeing his pale chest to the air. You began dragging the knife across his chest, leaving scratches and small gashes across his muscular body. He was staring at you with obsessive eyes, obviously loving what you were doing. You finished with a large and somewhat deep cut across his sternum, digging a little deeper than before.

You threw the knife to the ground as you leaned forward, licking up the blood that was trickling down his chest. Your mouth filled with the warm iron and you continued grinding your screaming body against his. He was panting hard, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips spread apart to let the moans escape effortlessly. You knew he was close to his orgasm and you didn't slow down as you slid your tongue into his largest wound before kissing him, your mouth leaking his own blood into his mouth.

His thighs tensed and his breathing caught in his throat as he pulled your skirt, desperate for you to slam down on him harder. You obliged, riding him hard as he came. Your poor body was bleeding too, your cunt sore and abused but you couldn't care. You only wanted to please Ramsay. You rode him through his wave until his cock softened inside you. You slowly lifted yourself, nearly collapsing on his lap once you pulled him out. The pain was excruciating. He held you on his lap as his cum dripped out of you onto his trousers.

You were out of breath as well, and tears finally began to fall down your cheeks. Ramsay smiled as he pulled you close, pressing your chest against his. You could feel his heart beating strongly as he held you. He caught his breath and whispered to you, "You're mine forever, My Lady."

You thought back to a time when those words would have terrified you. You used to be so weak and scared of Ramsay. You almost chuckled at your past self, she had no idea what was ahead of her. You remembered the first time you saw a flayed man from a distance and how it made your stomach churn, threatening your lunch to come back up your throat. You thought about now, the act of flaying someone caused you and Ramsay to bond so deeply and even arouse both of you. You remembered the first time you felt pain at the hands of Ramsay, lying on the pelts in the woods when he revealed his identity to you. You laughed at how foolish and simple you were. Now, pain was just another weapon that you were able to harness to turn into pleasure. You learned so much from your lover, you almost wanted to thank him.

You were confident that nobody else would understand your relationship with Ramsay, the relationship that you battled with in your head for so long. You knew that people would assume that you were evil just like him, and perhaps they were right. All you knew is that you loved Ramsay, and he loved you. It had to be love. It had to be. You were too horrified to think of what it was if it wasn’t love. You swallowed the thoughts and settled with the comfortable words you were able to tell yourself. This was love. It had to be...

The End.

[embersoftheorder]

❥ How they’d invite you home for the night (yes, it could be a pickup line)

"You know, I will not beat round bush when I say," Ramses leaned into the dark iron with his crimson face and sharp fangs. "I will break you."

The spit take of Cheryl behind him was not so much for his words but at the fluttering of the dwarf's eyes and hungry returning smile in response.

"I will take as yes and promise you a slow walk home in the morning." The hunter scooped and carried her out with a laugh as his fellow catchers gaped at the massive ma'nari leaving the Pig.

A nearby pink haired gnome muttered to her night elf companion. "Lucky bitch."

@themadamelioness

[pyrocephalus-rubinus]

I am just obsessed with the recurring themes of our lives as stories in the Junoverse.

Alessandra Strong reminding us that there are no Happy Endings in real life, only Happy Middles.

Juno being reminded that stories are a way humans have of trying to frame our lives in a way that makes sense, but real life is not that simple. In the reminder that you might want to become the villain in a story to make sense of it but maybe sometimes little kids who live in Oldtown die and no matter how much you blame yourself, it is just not that simple.

In the way Sarah Steel got her story stolen away from her. Andromeda's story, yes, but also her story. And how she couldn't deal with that.

How Juno tried to rebuild a story to survive, with him as a hero as much as he was embarrassed to admit it. And with the part of Sarah Steel pumping through his veins as the ultimate enemy. An epic of heroes and monsters. The way his life was not a simple story in which there was One Clue that would explain everything, One Answer from Ben that would make sense of it all.

The way Juno got robbed of his story by Ramses. Made all those sacrifices, those actions that felt heavy on his shoulders for a plotline that didn't exist. The plot twist was the unraveling of the story, leaving only pain and sadness behind. The way Juno was able to overcome that. To start a new story, to do with his life as he saw fit.

I also love the reminder that we do need stories like Mick's to keep us hopeful. To gather strength to face the big mean world. The acceptance of how useful and sacred the tool of "stories" is.

The way dreams - stories- like having a life of adventure among the stars with the one you love, or like having a home in a city that means death but also hope to you… that those are also necessary. But we can't live in a dream. And the dreams may pass, but it's okay that we dreamed them.

The way Juno could recognize the brutality of stealing Nureyev's story away from the thief. The cruelness of it. How he could sense it coming, looming from that door. How afraid he was for Nureyev.

The way Nureyev's only way of coping all these years has been telling himself a story over and over again. A story of martyrdom. A story of devotion… In order to keep Juno away and not succumb to the desperation to be next to someone he loves and feels like he doesn't deserve, he has been telling himself this story. This lie of how Juno would be better off away from him. How Juno would never understand the sacredness of his life's work.

All these stories, all these versions of what's going on… All these precious lives being used as little clogs of an infernal machine that does not care for stories. Only results and getting richer and richer…

Just ugh… this podcast…

[belltrigger]

Submastober Day 20!

Inspiration: There's an older OC-tober prompt-list here that I am using.

Title: He Knows, Okay?

Prompt: Death

Word count: 707

Synopsis: Emmet has a young sounding speech pattern, but ever since Ingo disappeared, people have started treating him like he's too young to understand things.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

It wasn't as though Emmet didn't know that death was A Thing.

For one thing, Emmet was nearly thirty years old. He wasn't sure how anyone thought he'd gotten to that age without becoming aware of what death was. It was in movies, tv shows, and books. Sure, he liked to read about trains, schematics and history, but even trains could be deadly if not properly maintained. (Not that he would ever let something like that happen in the Subway.) Even romance stories sometimes had death in them. People had to believe he had no interest in popular culture to make it to this age without at least a passing awareness.

For another thing, Ingo had a ghost pokémon as a partner. Obviously, ghosts couldn't exist without death, right? Even Ingo, who loved Chandelure greatly, always warned about how dangerous she could be. If not watched carefully, all of Chandelure's evolution line was capable of stealing life force. Litwick had been particularly naughty when they were kids, and Emmet had more than once found Ingo groggy after letting Litwick misbehave and eat some of his life energy. Well, Ingo called it groggy, Emmet called it passed out.

Even with Ingo's too permissive behavior of Litwick when they were younger, Ingo never came close to dying. Emmet was always able to find him before Litwick snacked too much, and Emmet had more than once scolded her over getting carried away. Once, she had flared her wick at him; by the time Ingo woke up, they were deep in an argument over how Ingo wasn't allowed to be eaten.

Yes, Emmet knew what death was. But just because he knew didn't mean he could accept that as a descriptor for his beloved twin.

Despite explaining this to people, they still continued to insist that Ingo being missing for this long surely meant the worst. The word 'dead' never came up directly; it was always skirted around, people used euphemisms because they were too uncomfortable to say what they were thinking. Emmet was always polite but firm when he countered people who insisted Ingo was dead. He did say the word - if they were going to assume his brother, the other half of his two car train, was such a thing, then they best say it outright.

Thinking back on it, maybe Emmet was not polite.

But! What else was he supposed to do when people insisted that he give up the search for his brother, when they wanted him to believe that Ingo must be dead? For the first time ever in the entirety of his career, Emmet banned someone from the subway for coming to him with the offer of organizing a memorial for Ingo. Although Emmet thought he kept his composure, Cloud asked him if he was okay after the now Perma-Banned-Passenger was escorted out.

Emmet answered as honestly as he could, because he couldn't lie to Cloud. No, he was definitely not okay. Ingo was missing and he'd lost any viable leads and now people wouldn't stop telling him Ingo was dead. Even when Emmet said it wasn't true, they kept saying it. It was rude! And frustrating! And-!

Clenching his hands into fists at his sides, Emmet only stopped pouring his heart out when his vision became blurry with tears. Even though Cloud wouldn't think less of him for it, Emmet tugged his cap brim down to cover his eyes. Cloud would understand, but Emmet still wanted to maintain the proper image of a Subway Boss. If nothing else, Ingo would be disappointed in him if he caused too much discomfort for their important guests of the subway.

Cloud and Ramses intercepted anyone who looked as though they were seeking Emmet out for anything other than a pokémon battle. He wasn't in the mood to battle with his thoughts occupied with plans on how to find Ingo, but he went through it anytime someone asked him to. Emmet lost more battles during Ingo's disappearance than he ever had before then. Without Ingo around as his friendly rival, wins and losses didn't feel as important.

Emmet knew what death was. And with Ingo gone, Emmet thought he might know what death felt like, too.

[nvrcmplt]

"Have you ever thought of immortality, Tyler?" Humans were always chasing after it, and he, to an extent, had been no different. Since he could not be immortal physically, he had sought to become this through monuments that would withstand the cruelty of time just as all pharaoh's did. After all, what ruler would ever want to be forgotten? "What if you could have it right at your fingertips? Would you take it?"

It was a thought. Immortality was always something praised to be the best thing but in all honesty? "Not really, I mean, it'd be nice - in some extend to live longer than usual if you've finally got everything and want to enjoy it for a touch longer." His nose did scrunch though at the thought, pencil pausing in his sketchbook, candle designs and notes for scent mixing on hold as he looked up from the lines to them. A look over their frame, he could understand it if someone as great as Ramses wanted to live longer? He means, like this man lived for a time and gave everything to rule only to die when things weren't complete.

"I, personally, ain't about that dream. I know a few folks that have lived a long ass time and they are all assholes, hah'. Tired and disappointed with the world. As amazing as I am, don't think I'd be cut out to watching my bloodline, friends, family - etc, die of natural causes, the right time - and I'm just on the side line. Oof, no thanks. Think that'd fuck me right up."

Pencil returns to etching, long strokes for curves in the wax wall. Butterfly engraving and stars. Possible seasonal switches, snowflakes and the likes for winter, autumn leaves… spring flowers. "If it's right in front of me? Ah, it's hard. Part of me would be interested but like I said, don't think I'd be cut out for that kinda thing. Human curiosity would really be 'just try it out, lol' but yeah." He's frowning a bit, thoughts a motion.

"Let's say - I'm antisocial, asocial, human avoidant? Probably be able to take the dip and take it. Can just go somewhere isolated, live in a forest or mountains, be by myself and just live until something happens, I guess… but with the way I am, just can't see it, man. Hearts too big to be on its own, need to please people, be around folks, party and laugh, tell stories. Couldn't do that knowing I'm watching kids grow to their deathbeds and I'm telling the same stories to their next generations."

"What about you? If you weren't here cause of that Master of yours? Think you'd be able to stick around from your Reign to current times?"