#creep!ramsay

[ghostincorrectinternetedition]

Cirrus: Some creepy dude online asked me for a nude, so I sent him a really zoomed in picture of Gordon Ramsay’s forehead wrinkles and told them it was my cleavage. He then sent me a fapping video, and I’m dying laughing. I made this dude fap to Gordon Ramsay’s forehead!

[coulsonlives]

[movietimegirl]

Crazy David is coming next week...😨

[dipperscavern]

speaking of assertive cregan and neck stuff, i think if he ever sees you being bratty, a glove is coming off and that paw he calls a hand is going straight to covering your whole neck. the wolf instinct comes over him and he's holding you like a direwolf holding a pup by the scruff. his thumb creeps into your hairline and rubs circles there while his grip gets tighter. the first time he did it was mid-convo in front of other people and it was so humiliating for you. not because it's embarrassing that he's scolding you like this but because this is what he does when you're on your knees crying from wanting to blow him AAHHH i need him 🫦

i had to put down my phone and genuinely run laps around the block after reading this. “the paw he calls a hand” 🫦🫦 i’m naming you gordon ramsay anon because this is DELICIOUS. THIS IS SO YUMMY. ARF ARFA RF (btw i stole a sentence from u i’m sorry it was too good become a writer)

sometimes the glove doesn’t even come off. you just make a snarky comment, or start giving attitude in the middle of something important & he just reaches over, leaning closer to put a gloved hand over the back of your neck. its not even to embarrass you, it’s truly your reset button. it’s just habit for cregan, when a direwolf pup is acting up to hold them by the scruff. and what do you know, you’re the same way.

he doesn’t even break eye contact with the men he’s speaking with, and the men he’s speaking with don’t say anything. they barely bat an eye. someone asks you a question, and you hesitate in your response, lost in his touch. his thumb creeps into your hairline, beginning to rub small circles as his grip tightens to elicit a response front you. you eventually pull yourself together, stammering a response that you hope is sufficient to get their attention focused on something else. they exchange small looks, before clearing their throats and continuing. cregans grip loosens slightly, going back to just comfortably resting.

his hand is big. the weight of it & warmth seeping through his glove makes you dizzy. you get distracted, remembering the last time he had a hand on your neck was when you were on your knees in front of him.

[axelsagewrites]

Tormund*Real Man

Pairing: tormund x f!reader

Kinktober Day twelve: exhibitionism with Tormund – while wildlings talk freely about sex Tormund enjoys watching your blush at even the mention of it making it even more fun to tease you when you come to tend to his wounds

Word count: 2003

Warnings: this is actually technically not smut aka no sex but there is heavy teasing, mentions of sex, heavy flirting, flashing, and physical descriptions.

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

When you escaped Winterfell, finally fleeing from Ramsay’s grip, you headed straight for the wall, straight for Jon. You had been close friends growing up, always lurking in the shadows with him or chasing after Robb. However, you were also trained in medicinal herbs by your mother, a servant who couldn’t just call for a maester when someone grew ill. So, despite his worries Jon agreed you should stay and help tend to the fallen.

What you hadn’t expected was being sent to tend the wilding. You had been locked away during the battle, for safety more than anything so you were shocked to learn when Jon fetched you that he had taken a hostage.

“He’s in pretty bad shape,” Jon warned as you walked the corridor with him down to a storage room that had been converted into a cell of sorts for the wilding. “I don’t think he could hurt you if he wanted but I’ll be every second,” he had assured you as you tentatively stepped into the room.

“Crow,” a hoarse voice came from the corner of the room. Jon held up his torch, revealing the wildling. He was big, that’s for sure, and his hair was almost as bright as the Tully’s. a scraggly beard covered his face and a grimace behind it, “Came to finish the job?”

“Not quite Tormund,” Jon said, stepping closer to the wildling who spat at his feet, “I brought help. She’s a healer, well the closest thing we have to one,”

The man looked passed Jon, his cold blue eyes looking straight at you leaving a strange feeling in your gut. A smirk slowly crept on his face, “She’s a pretty one alright. Guess if I have to die, I might as well go with a pretty face looking at me,”

You were grateful for the poor lighting, hoping it disguised your blush as Jon hushed the man. Jon turned back to you while you tried to ignore the way Tormund was staring at you, “Do you need anything?”

You glanced to the man before your eyes quickly met Jon’s again, “More light,” you said quietly, “I can’t heal him in the dark,”

“Great idea lass,” Tormund pipped up, his voice making you jump when you realised, he was listening, “Can barely even see you in this shit hole,”

His jabs were ignored by Jon who soon lit another couple torches in the room and finally you were able to see him properly. As you walked over you could see blood seeping through his clothes, leaving dark patches, “Um I need to see your wounds,” you said, your voice quiet and plagued with stutters.

Tormund grinned at your words, “Trying to undress me already? Your southern women are forward crow,” he teased Jon who was quick to remind him he was a prisoner here. Tormund rolled his eyes as his hands reached for his top, but you noticed his winces and knew it was no use.

“Here let me,” you said, pulling at the fabric, trying your best not to blush or embarrass yourself as you slowly manoeuvred the fabric over his head.

“Like what you see?” Tormund asked, his eyes glued to yours as you tried desperately to not show that you did.

Instead, you turned your attention to his wounds. The top of his arm was badly wounded, you wondered if an infection was already growing from the sight of him. A few more scratches covered his bodies, and a particularly nasty slice went across his stomach. “I’ll need to clean these,” you told him, pulling out a cloth and treatment for his wounds, “this might sting,”

“Fuck!”

--

You had to check on him at least three times a day to check his bandages and wounds since your suspicion was right and an infection had begun to creep in. at first Jon took you each time but when he was busy he would send another in his place but as he prepared for a greater threat you assured him you would be fine.

After all each time you went it was the same routine. You helped Tormund take off his top layers, changed his bandages, applied new lotions, then more bandages all while he shamelessly flirted with you. at first each sweet word or lewd suggestion was met with blushes and stuttering but it had oddly become a welcome routine for you though you never responded to his flirts.

“Morning Tormund,” you greeted as you unlocked the door and entered his cell.

He was sat on his bed, finally feeling able to do more than lay down, with his shirt already off, “I thought you’d forgotten about me,” he grinned as you moved to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling out your supplies.

while the sight of his bare chest had made you blush originally you had seen it so often the affects had worn off. However, as you were changing the bandage on his arm your eyes glanced down and you felt your skin heat up. At first you had thought he was only bare chested but as you looked down you could clearly see his naked hip, only covered by furs.

You glanced at Tormund for just a moment before your eyes darted back to the wound, trying your best to keep your breathing calm. Out the corner of your eye however you saw the cogs begin to turn in his head, a small smirk stretching onto his lips. “Are you alright little dove?” his voice snapped you back to reality.

You could feel your skin flush as you shot him a quick smile as you assured him nothing was wrong. However, his eyes watched you with fascination the whole time. “That one’s done,” you said, tucking the soiled bandages into a bag you had brought. “One second,” you told him as you went to shuffle back, allowing you to reach his stomach more easily.

“Allow me,” he grinned, shuffling up the bed slightly to give you better access to his midsection but also a new sight. you tried your best not to look but you found yourself catching a quick sight. the furs covered his manhood, but the new position meant it was all you couldn’t see. In fact, it was the most you had ever seen of a man.

As your hands moved to take off his next bandage you mentally cursed yourself for trembling, “Are you sure you’re alright?” Tormund asked, mock concern in his voice as his hand reached up to push the hair out your face making you shiver, “You seem very,” he paused thinking of a word before smirking, “flustered,”

“I’m fine,” you said again, trying to keep your voice steady as you reached for a damp cloth.

“Tell me something little dove,” Tormund said, using his favourite new nickname for you apparently, “Have you ever seen a man before? a real man I mean. Not just some crow boy,”

You paused for a moment, debating whether you should even answer his taunts, “No,” you finally stated as you reached for the ointment to apply.

You dabbed a cloth in it however as you pressed it against his skin you gasped as his hand wrapped around your wrist, “Do you want to?” he asked, a glint behind his eyes that only served to deepen your flush, “You southerners are so sensitive,”

“I’m a northerner,” you tried to say it firmly, but it came out like a child arguing about their bedtime.

Tormund chuckled, letting go of your wrist, “No little dove. Us northerners don’t even bat an eye at a little skin. Any free woman would already be climbing under these sheets. Whereas you,” he said, suddenly leaning forward to whisper in your ear, “you pretend as though you don’t want to see it,” he whispered, his tone taunting.

Your hand reached up to his chest, pushing hard back onto it. You knew he could’ve stopped you if he wanted to but he let himself fall back into the furs with a smirk, “I’m trying to work,” you stated firmly, reaching out to apply his treatment, “and if you don’t wish to have these wounds reinfected I suggest you let me,”

“Why do you care so much if I get better?” he asked, his head cocking to the side, “it’s almost as if you don’t want me to die. Tell me little dove, what is it you want?”

A thousand things came to mind but instead you only said three words, “To go home,”

The room was silent for a moment, Tormund nodded in agreement, “Aye, me too,” he said, and you wondered if for a moment he would be serious but yet again you were proven wrong, “But when I go home, which I will, I will tell all my men of the southern beauty at the wall,” he said, moving to sit up again but your hand shot up to push his chest back. His hand however just clamped over yours making it hard not to blush as he stared into your eyes, “and how I showed you how a free man fucks his woman,”

“I am not your woman,” you said, your voice quiet.

“Aye,” he agreed, leaning back into his furs, “but you could be,” he said, his hand gripping the edge of his furs, “don’t you want to know,” he asked, pulling the sheets down slowly, revealing more of his V line.

However, as your eyes wandered down his body, your mind racing as you tried to stutter out a no, the ointment pot suddenly clattered to the floor, slipping from your hand in your daze. You quickly turned to retrieve the pot, grateful very little had spilled however as you turned back you froze.

Tormund had pulled the sheets further down revealing his manhood to you. a heavy flush covered your face as your eyes stared at the unfamiliar sight. while you knew he was large you foolishly had not expected his manhood to match. It was hard, its tip red and desperate to be touched. Thoughts raced through your mind, but you had no time to act.

You tried to speak but all that came out was vague stutters until a knock at the door snapped your attention back and you quickly jumped off the bed. The door opened suddenly to reveal a very serious looking Jon, “I need you to take a look at Gilly,” he said, his eyes glancing towards Tormund.

You looked back at the wildling and released he must’ve recovered himself in your panic, “She’s not finished with me yet crow,” Tormund said, his voice far gruffer when he spoke to Jon instead of you.

“Aye well she’ll be back later,” Jon said, stalking across the room, “I’m sure you can wrap this around yourself,” he said as he tossed a bandage out your bag at him before he turned back to you with an expected look.

You nodded, quickly gathering your things as Jon moved to wait beside the door, “Goodbye pretty girl,” Tormund whispered as you packed your things, “If you ever want to know what a real man feels like you know where to find me,” he added as you finally were able to walk away.

Jon shot you a questionable look as you rushed out the room, your cheeks flaring up when you heard Tormund calling after you, “Until next time little dove,” he called making Jon slam the door, locking it quickly behind him.

“Is he bothering you?” Jon asked as he led you towards Gilly’s room, “If you feel you need an escort all you need to do is ask,” he said.

Jon looked at you with a mix of concern and confusion written on his face as you considered his offer before shaking your head, “I can handle him,” you said however you wondered if you were right, but you did know one thing. Tormund was officially stuck in your head.

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy  @valeskafics

[novaeverse]

Saved and Unsaved By A Mad Love

Song Lyrics: “Be Nice To Me” by The Front Bottoms

Okay so. Hehe.

This drawing took me so long, and MAN was it a journey. I don’t normally do these “monochromatic” drawings. But it was a lot of fun.

(Except for Astarion’s arm. That was hell to do and I don’t think I’ll ever be fully happy with it but ITS FINE)

This is for the lovely @kawareo !! If you haven’t check it out yet, he’s got this fantastic bg3 campaign fanfic on ao3 called Godsbound (will link later when ao3 is up). I really hope you like this one Ramsay! I know it’s different from the first fanart, but >_< I’m rly happy with it <33

Ramblings about some details:

Strike is digging his nails into Astarion and Astarion is pulling harshly on Strike’s hair. But they’re smiling about it in a bittersweet way. They care for each other, and they will hurt each other because of it. Forever will they be intertwined, stuck in a painful embrace.

Astarion is the only one in the light because he’s the only one who remembers their shared past. And he will continue to block it from Strike until the shadows creep back, and Strike can see.

It’s colorless because I like being dramatic >:)

I’ve never really done drawings with a whole lot of meaning behind it, but I tried with this one! I’m not a writer LMAO

[thehuntfortrencherlostmedia]

The Origins, Ramsay Fiction & The Confusing Mishmash of Everything Before Fix Me - A Marianas Trench Retrospective

Okay, so my post got likes, but I only got one actual response from anyone, agreeing with me on the fact they like things in chronological order. So, I guess it's time to talk about the bands early days, eh?

The truth of the matter is, the band as many know them started in late 2003 and early 2004. Anything before that gets placed in this weird murky middle section with a name change, members leaving, and also a complete and utter mess of when Ramsay Fiction came to an end and where Marianas Trench begins. We have located a demo disk from 2001 with the Marianas name on it, but we also don't have any dates as to when certain things were recorded or uploaded onto MP3.com.

Here's what we do know: Josh Ramsay, a teenager dealing with both an addiction to heroin and an eating disorder, loved music from a young age. His father owned a recording studio, and his mother was a vocal coach. Music was literally in his blood, but even though the two had connections into the industry and everything, he set out to make it into the business on his own. And he knew one thing for certain: He DID NOT want to be a solo act, he wanted to be in a band.

The issue for Josh was getting that band together. At first, it was him and his sister Sara (backup vocals), her then boyfriend and later husband Trevor Spilchen (on bass, even though he was a guitar player), Josh's friend Steve Marshall (on guitar and backup vocals, despite being a BASSIST), and a rotating list of drummers, eventually finding Ian Casselman in a series of classifieds in a newspaper late into the bands life. This lineup didn't last long, as once Sara became pregnant with her and Trevor's first kid, they stepped aside... leading to 2 new members joining: Josh's friend Matt Webb (originally a keyboardist), and Steve's pal Morgan Hempstead (the man who bestowed them the Marianas Trench name). It's tough to say who plays what on a lot of the Ramsay Fiction tracks that make up Cooler Than Me, as I think they come from two different recording sessions, if not more. Same goes for a lot of the self-titled EP work too, as we know at least two tracks from that era, an early recording of Fix Me, and a early recording of Skin & Bones, were both first made public to people in 2004... months after Steve and Morgan left, and Mike Ayley joined the group after getting to know everyone as Ian's roommate.

In fact, for the longest time, a lot of the Ramsay Fiction stuff was lost media, songs that nobody outside of a rare few had ever heard. As of April 1st this year, this is no longer the case, and all the songs have been found and preserved (yes, even PMS... despite it being taken off Youtube, has been saved.)

To talk about these songs is hard. There's definitely a lot of emotion and pain in these tracks, and the overall sound is very 90's, going for more of heavy grunge and alternate rock sound, very reminiscent of Matthew Goode. But you can also hear those other elements creep in from other acts Josh has referenced time and time throughout in small snippets. The biggest thing holding a lot of these songs back is a mix of production (which is still insanely impressive for the time period and the fact it was done by a teen no less), and lyrical ckunkiness, making them semi hard to decipher.

What do I mean by this? Take track 1, the one everyone knows: Primetime. The song's verses speak about how something is this, but the person is the opposite... bu we don't get a clear picture of who the person is.. only that supposedly a hit of heroin will make everything feel better. It's odd that this is the song that's somehow lasted the test of time out of all these tracks. But hey, it did lead to a great callback on End of An Era.

Track 2, Shiny Like Dirt (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bG-OoIsFbow), is truly a song where Josh took a ton of ideas he had for songs, and threw it against the wall to see if it would stick. And... it does stick, but also doesn't? The chorus is super catchy, basically admitting he's a confusing person, and that nothing he does makes sense... and yet, despite it all, he still has fears of the unknown. The "coming up for air" bridge is probably my favourite part, but it's definitely an earworm I return to occasionally. I've also linked it in case you've yet to hear it.

Track 3: Shallow. The song we've known about for the longest time, the one the fandom cherished like a baby... and honestly, it's probably my least favourite? I've tried to decipher the lyrics on this one for ages, but I can't come up with anything concrete. I do think the song has a good tone, and the guitar solo is totally awesome. In fact, there's a lot of great guitar and bass work throughout a lot of these songs. But there's something missing for me on this one.

Track 4: Playing Dead. This seems to be the earliest recorded song of this bunch, going off Josh's voice here. And honestly, I think it's the closest tonally to a current day Marianas Trench song. There's a bit of a swing sound going on in the drums, the harmonies.... and it's an interesting number overall. Also, it's our clearest sampling of Steve's voice, and just how close it is to Matt's vocals xD... it seems to be a simple love song about a girl and how he's open to roleplaying almost anything with her, using "playing dead" as his main metaphor. It's the black sheep of the CD, but a good one.

Track 5: Hideous. Here we go... the first track Josh ever wrote about his bulimia and depression... and how it was eating him from the inside... and how he was asking for help, even though he wasn't fully ready to accept it at the time. The beginning parts are very slow, and methodical.... only for the song to pick up energy in it's second half and become truly one of the standouts on this album.

Track 6: PMS. Okay... so... this one is tough to talk about. We knew for years it was supposedly very comedic in nature and that it was also politically incorrect, but that was it. For those of you who still have not heard it, there's a copy of it in this Discord server in the links and archive section: https://discord.gg/d5M3xVN9

As for the song itself, I personally really love it. It's a song about Josh being petty to a girl and truthfully telling her off. It's definitely of its time period, but in the best way possible. And once again, the guitar work here is SO GOOD. If you can stomach a song that truly is a time capsule and understand that Josh would never write anything as juvenile today, give it a listen.

Track 7: Don't Touch Me. The song that holds a special place in my heart... as I was the one to LOCATE IT after 18 years in the massive pile of MP3.com links that were given to the Internet Archive in 2021. And it's a ballad all about Josh dealing with both the arguments and turmoil he would feel when coming down from getting high. Truthfully, this might be the most emotional song of this batch, and one that definitely sticks its landing.

So, my overall thoughts here are to give these songs a listen, and understand them for what they are: the start of a musical prodigy finding his footing and his sense of style while getting clean and hoping somebody, anybody, would give him a chance. While the tone might not have influenced Josh’s style fully going forward, there are elements from these songs that were taken and repurposed into later Trench tracks.

Luckily, and also sadly... Jonathan Simkin & Chad Kroeger gave him that chance. And thus, we got ourselves a self titled EP... and a full title debut. But that'll be next time.

[justanoasisimagines]

Walking up behind and hugging them - Game of Thrones Preference - Set B

Requests are open! Credit to @cafekitsune for the divider and banner

Jon Snow; Jon glances down and immediately realizes it's you. He's the one who usually does to you. Jon finds himself enjoying the position. Although he doesn't quite appreciate it in the same way. He can't look down at you or lean down to steal a kiss.

Yoren; Yoren appreciates it more than he cares to admit. He's tough as old boots. However, sometimes it gets too much. He lets you hold him tightly, allowing you to ground him. To pretend he hasn't got more stress in his life. You're constantly putting your life in danger to be with him. So sometimes it's nice to have a moment between you and him.

Tyrion Lannister; Your head buried into his neck snaps him out of his thoughts. He'd been at his desk contemplating the current state of things. You are a welcomed distraction. His head is beginning to ache from prolonged concentration. When you suggest he takes a snap, he immediately takes you up on it.

Grey Worm; Grey Worm's lips twitch when he feels your arms wrap around him from behind. He loves how you're not afraid to seek comfort from him. However, he's not a fan of this position. He can't see you. Although he does appreciate the press of your body against his. As he turns to say something to you, you surprise him with a kiss.

Ramsay Bolton; Ramsay turns around swiftly anticipating your move. You jump at the sudden movement. He leans down kissing you, furiously nipping his way down your throat. He loves to play cat and mouse with you.

Jojen Reed; Jojen smiles as he leans back when you wrap your arms around him from behind. He can't say it's his favorite way to be embraced but he doesn't mind it. He'd prefer it if the roles were reversed.

Doran Martell; Doran laughs as you wrap your arms around him. He's looking out of the window admiring the view. He relaxes at your touch, relishing the moment between the two of you. It's hard to make time when you're both so busy. Moments like this are hard to come by.

Alliser Thorne; Alliser's shocked when you wrap your arms around him. While he's not expecting it, he's quick to move you to the front. He's not a fan of it, so he'll always bring you forward. You're the only person who will ever get to see this side of him.

Benjen Stark; Benjen laughs when he feels your arms wrapped around him. It is not often you do things like this but Benjen admires the size difference between you both. How tiny your hands are compared to his. He generally enjoys this type of embrace.

Jorah Mormont; When you hug Jorah from behind, Jorah pretends to not know it is you. It's a game you two play whenever you attempt to sneak up on him. Jorah always acts surprised because it's unlikely you'll be able to creep up on a seasoned warrior.

Varys; Varys doesn't like it. He likes being in control and doesn't like the idea of someone coming up behind him. He's aware that you would never hurt him. Varys would still find your behavior odd.

Beric Dondarrian; Beric immediately pulls your hands up so he can press a kiss to your hands. He's fond of the affection between the two of you. For Beric, it reminds him of what he's fighting for. It enforces what he knows to be true; if you're by his side then it's always the right path.

Samwell Tarly; It surprises Sam but he's pleased to see you nonetheless. He questions what you're up to and when you shrug Sam is content to sit in the moment. With each passing day, Sam believes he deserves to be loved by someone. Moments like this reinforce that.

Euron Greyjoy; Euron smiles. You were bound to come to find him eventually. You've never been one to sleep alone. He allows the embrace for several moments before pulling you to the front of him. He prefers this type of embrace. It makes him feel as if he's able to protect you from the harsh realities of the world.

Barristan Selemy; Barristan laughs at your playful nature. He enjoys moments like this between the two of you. It reminds Barristan of the best parts of being in love. Being carefree and having someone to help release the tension from life.

Gendry Waters; Gendry immediately turns his head to kiss you. As you melt his embrace he seizes the opportunity to turn in your embrace. It's a usual routine for you whenever you hug him like this. It always ends up in you kissing.

Daario Nahris; Daario turns and questions what you're up to. You always embrace him like this when you're being mischievous. When Daario hears you mumble "nothing" into his back, he knows it's something. He turns to face you and within moments you lead him to show him something.

Stannis Baratheon; Stannis is confused. Instinctively, he wants to know what you're doing. He doesn't expect your response. Especially when you explain why. He never expects you to tell him, you're looking out for him. Everyone sees him as a King and a leader but they don't see a man who needs to be looked after. It feels Stannis's heart with a warmth and while he's not sure of the position it does bring him some comfort.

Davos Seaworth; Davos enjoys the embrace. He finds comfort in your arms. He'll place your arms on top of yours as you two enjoy a quiet moment together. It serves as a reminder you both have each other. Through the good and the bad.

Sandor Clegane; Sandor immediately questions what you're doing. When you state the obvious, Sandor's quick to snap back, he knows what you're doing but why? He's comforted by the embrace because he's not been hugged a lot. But he's not going to be a fan of the position so he changes it almost immediately.

[ourrootsgodeep]

demon on a leash.

(ramsay bolton x oakheart!reader)

a/n: listen i like evil men okay. i do not condone their actions i just think it’s kind of hot and silly and i don’t think that is a problem (it is a problem)

warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I WILL HIT YOU WITH A CAR, ramsay bolton is a warning in and of himself, pre-season 4 of GOT, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), biting, breeding kink, murder, stray pickled eyeball, ramsay is a fucking creep, this could probably be described as yandere, the author is bad at writing smut, this author is bad at writing generally, vague mention of joffrey (disgusting), implied bisexual reader but let’s face it all my readers are bisexual, reader is NOT a virgin and ramsay appreciates it, ramsay is pussywhipped as hell

———

the ceremony had been beautiful, but it was so cold up there. she had expected her wedding to be warm and summery, but when her mother had betrothed her to the infamous “bastard of bolton,” all her fantasies were dashed.

y/n smoothed the creamy velvet dress as she stood before the fire. the jewels she was wearing caught the light beautifully, glowing amber in the dim atmosphere. ramsay would be there soon, she thought. he had seemed so odd during the ceremony: cold, and charming, and utterly attentive to her. disturbingly attentive, for someone of his reputation. he poured wine for her, cut her meat. his pale gaze never left her for even a second.

a floorboard creaked suddenly, and she whirled around. ramsay stood there, observing her in the firelight. “my beautiful wife,” he said, in his soft, rasping voice.

she curtsied. “husband.”

he crossed the room in three quick strides, taking her hand in his and directing her into one of two chairs at the fireside. margaery tyrell had one like him, she thought. if only she remembered how margaery had said she handled him.

ramsay hadn’t stopped staring at her for even a second. “forgive me, sweet girl, i had some unfinished business to take care of.”

“it’s quite alright,” she said softly, and hesitated before speaking again. “i am sure whatever it was must have been important. i do not begrudge you your time.”

ramsay’s mouth twitched in a faint, amused smile. “i am glad to hear it. incidentally, i have a gift for you.”

“oh?”

he nodded and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, ornately carved wooden box. y/n took it with murmured thanks and turned it over in her hands, inspecting it carefully. it was carved with oak leaves around the sides, and the flayed man of house bolton on top. as she turned it, she heard a faint thunk inside. she turned to ramsay, feigning delight, dreading what her instinct told her was within. “what is it, my love?”

he raised his eyebrows and smiled cheerfully, but said nothing, merely gesturing for her to open it.

when she undid the clasp and the lid sprang open, a bloody brown eye looked back up at her.

she froze, forcing her face into a faint, impassive smile, her thoughts running through all the people it could be. a friend? a cousin, dear gods, not-

she turned to ramsay, who was grinning delightedly. “whose is it, my love?”

he stood, coming over and leaning over her shoulder, pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to her shoulder before replying. “one of walder frey’s bastards. he had the nerve to ask me when the bedding ceremony was.”

interesting. maybe she could work with this. “thank you for that, husband,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “i do not wish anyone to see my body, save you.” y/n took his hand from where it rested behind her and pressed his scarred knuckles to her lips, looking up at him and making her eyes large and soft.

he preened under the attention. “good girl.” his voice was low and raspy, pupils blown wide in his pale eyes.

alright, she thought. she could work with this.

———

king robert’s fiftieth birthday was held at winterfell, and almost everyone was in attendance, from the umbers of the last hearth to the ullers of hellholt and the redwynes of the arbor. even most of the bastards of the great houses had been invited, leaving ramsay standing in a corner while his father spoke with lord flint.

he had hoped to see lady oakheart and her daughter that night. he had heard of lady y/n’s beauty as she grew, remembering her from when they were children. he scanned the room, sneering at jon umber as he noticed him trying to flirt with margaery tyrell, scowling at rickard karstark’s drunken jokes.

he could see theon greyjoy standing off to the side, eying a woman in gold with robb stark. curious, he followed their gaze, and it led him back to her.

he inhaled sharply when he saw her, in soft silks draped carefully over her soft curves, with golden pins and jewels holding it delicately in place. he hadn’t seen her since they were thirteen years old, but in the five years since then, she was a woman.

he could see greyjoy walking over to her, which meant he had to act fast. he crossed the distance between them as quickly as possible, bowing before her as he reached her and noting greyjoy’s annoyance with delight. “sweet lady,” he said, looking back up at her after a moment.

her lips parted in a pretty smile. she looked like a goddess, in a halo of candlelight, resplendent in gold. “my lord,” she said with a slight chuckle.

he stared at her for a moment, his breath catching in his throat before he remembered himself. “would you dance with me?” he asked.

she raised her eyebrows, her voice taking on a teasing lilt. “i don’t even know your name.”

“ramsay.”

“y/n.” she took his arm gently, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor.

he settled his hands onto her hips as the slow, elegant song began, delighted to feel the soft flesh so warm under the thin fabric. “how do you find the north so far?” he asked, looking down into her eyes.

“cold,” she replied. “i thought people were exaggerating the summer chill.”

he could see that. her hard nipples were poking through the dress. he wondered what her skin would taste like if he were to lick and suck at the pointed nubs. “i never particularly notice, myself. you get used to it the more you stay up here.”

“are you from here, then?”

“near the dreadfort.” he spun her carefully in his arms, watching her earrings catch the light. her perfume smelled like vanilla and sweet amber. “i’m in service to lord bolton.”

“oh really?” she was so close to him he could feel her breath. he silently thanked the old gods, or whichever gods were out there, for the crowds on the dance floor. “i was betrothed to his son, before he died. lord domeric.”

“were you now?”

“mhm. it was such a tragedy. i did not know him well, but he seemed a very kind man.”

kind indeed. he remembered the slight look of disdain she had had for him when they met. how lucky that she was now available to marry ramsay. “are you betrothed now?” he asked.

“not yet. i’ve had an offer made to me by theon greyjoy’s father, but nothing is settled.”

he clenched his teeth, but kept a straight face. “the greyjoys are an old and proud house. you could do well there.”

“mm, perhaps. too proud for my taste, though. and it’s so dreary there. i would miss my home.” ramsay looked down at her face, eyeing her lips, painted with red ochre. in the candlelight, it looked like she had been drinking blood. “besides, if i were to marry anyone, it would have to be someone like you.”

he had to do a double take to be sure he wasn’t imagining things. he’d been dreaming of that for so long. “you’d what?”

she chuckled, her cheeks flushed. “well, not you specifically. but someone who isn’t the heir of a great house like the starks or the greyjoys, who wouldn’t get in the way of me inheriting my own lands..-.”

she was still talking, but he wasn’t listening. all he could think of was her words. she would have to marry someone like him.

———

the fire was still crackling in the hearth, but ramsay was uncomfortably silent.

y/n could still feel his pale eyes on her as she stared at the frey man’s eye. he was working at undoing the elaborate braided hairstyle she had been married in, carefully plucking out the pins and placing them on the vanity next to them. “i should go down to the maester tomorrow and get a good jar of vinegar for this,” she remarked, trying to break the silence.

she could see his eyebrows crease through the mirror. “what for?”

“it’ll preserve it,” y/n replied. she tilted her head back and smiled up at him as the last lock of her hair came undone. “so i can keep your sweet gift forever, my dear husband.”

he smiled broadly and kissed the top of her head. “you are the sweet one, little wife.” at least she now knew what seemed to please him.

she stood up, pulling the thick locks of her hair over her shoulder, exposing the laces of her dress to him. “will you undress your wife?” she asked softly.

he let out a noise that was half chuckle, half groan and stepped closer to her. he pressed a lazy kiss to the junction of her shoulder, grazing the soft and delicate skin with his teeth. “i will.”

———

she saw the power she had over him, he knew that, but ramsay couldn’t bring himself to care. he finally had her, and everything was coming together.

he undid the strings holding her dress carefully, feeling the smooth velvet on his hands. he had been concerned, sometimes, when he was fucking his fist or myranda late at night, that they would be too rough for his pretty darling. he’d heard she liked the pretty boys down south. pretty boys and pretty girls both. his spies had at least been helpful in that regard. but she hadn’t seemed to mind his hands much when he was undoing her hair. he had noticed that she was wearing the same vanilla and amber perfume as at that ball two years ago. the scent permeated her hair, and since he had touched her neck he could smell it on his hands.

she was turning to him now, the firelight catching in her hair and turning it to a halo again. her dress hadn’t yet fallen down.

he noticed her lips moving and blinked, fixing his mouth into a winning smile. “pardon me, love, i wasn’t paying attention. what was that?”

she smiled back at him prettily. “i asked whether you’d like me to undress you, husband.”

he shook his head. “not yet. take off your clothes.”

she inhaled sharply through her nose and let the dress fall.

———

ramsay looked down at domeric, watching him writhe in his bed.

domeric’s eyes cracked open, watching him approach. “you did this,” he croaked. “you poisoned me.”

“mm. yes, i did.” ramsay shoved his hands in his pockets, taking a seat in the chair at the side of the bed.

domeric coughed. “why? i was always kind to you. you were my brother.”

ramsay laughed harshly. “your bastard brother, as you reminded me every day.” he leaned closer. “you stole my father, my birthright. you tried to steal the woman i love. i stopped you.”

“woman?” domeric frowned. “you love y/n? ha!” he coughed again, glaring up at ramsay with a red-rimmed eye. “you don’t love anyone.”

ramsay smiled at him coldly. “certainly not you.” he picked up a pillow idly, pretending to inspect it closely before standing up and smiling cheerfully at domeric. “happy dreams, dear brother.”

the pillow descended over domeric’s face.

———

y/n didn’t want to admit it, but ramsay’s words had gotten to her. perhaps it was something to do with the way he said it, in that low rasp, or the way his eyes looked at her so hungrily. the dress slipped down her body, leaving her in her under clothes. she heard him inhale sharply when he saw the sheer, delicate lace chemise hugging her breasts, pushed up beautifully in the corset. she undid the clasps holding it up, heat rising in her belly when he groaned as her breasts fell free.

“on the bed,” he ordered, and she complied, quickly sitting on the edge and waiting for him.

instead of pushing her back and undoing his trousers as she thought he would, he knelt in front of her. she watched his hands closely, watched them pull her legs apart, begin to pull down the delicate lace stockings. she shivered in the new cold against her legs, then shivered again when he pressed a kiss to her thigh, just above her knee. he grinned at her reaction to him, then pounced forward quickly and but down harshly at the tender skin of her inner thigh.

y/n cried out at the feeling of his teeth sinking into her, and ramsay looked up and hushed her gently. “quiet, sweetling. you’re mine now. i get to mark you as i please. i will not hurt you too badly.”

her chest rose and fell in quickened breaths, and she looked down at him with eyes that she knew were blown wide with lust. “i did not say it was a bad pain.”

ramsay laughed darkly, looking up at her like a starving man. “i believe i must be the luckiest man in the world.”

he reached upwards and tore through her smallclothes, ignoring her protests and diving into her core, lapping at it like a man dying of thirst. he nipped slightly at her swollen bud and she moaned his name loudly, reaching down and grabbing a fistful of his hair. he groaned at the mix of pain and pleasure and reached down, using one hand to hold her legs apart and the other to fist his cock. y/n could barely hear it over the rush of blood in her ears, but as she came over his face and tongue she could hear him muttering things like, “so beautiful… wanted you for so long… no one else deserved you.”

she collapsed back on the bed, chest heaving and cheeks flushed. ramsay chuckled softly. “not yet, pet. let me see you.” he pulled her up and took her lace chemise off of her body carefully, setting it aside. finally, he lay her back on the bed, admiring the many bruises and bites that now littered her thighs and shoulders. “are you a virgin?” he murmured hoarsely. at her hesitation, he added, “do not worry, sweet girl, i won’t be angry. you didn’t know yet.”

didn’t know what? she wanted to ask, but refrained. instead, she slowly shook her head. “i am not, no.” he didn’t seem like a person to lie to.

his lips parted in a wide and utterly unexpected grin. “thank the gods.”

he flipped her over onto her belly, manhandling her into the position he wanted on the bed. he raised her hips into the air and climbed up behind her, undoing his trousers and letting his cock spring free. it fell against her center, and he rutted against her a few times, soaking his painfully hard length with her slick and then plunging into her, setting a rough, almost punishing pace from the start. y/n mewled, her hands curling into the sheets and fisting the soft material. he would bruise her hips, she was sure, with how hard he was gripping them, muttering between his grunts of pleasure about how pretty she would look round and swollen with his heir. he reached up and palmed her tits, pulling her backward into his chest and pinching her hardened nipples. “you see these?” he panted, making her whine as the rough pads of his thumbs brushed over her sore flesh. “these will feed my son in a few months, pretty wife.”

y/n’s head tilted back, falling onto his shoulder, exposing her soft neck to him. he bit down at the tender place just under her jaw as he finished, reaching down to rub harshly at the pearl between her legs and making her tremble and squeeze around him as she came, leaving her limp-boned in his arms. he panted harshly for a few moments, letting her collapse back onto him, before carefully pulling out and laying her down on the bed, chest still rising and falling quickly. y/n saw him get up through half-lidded eyes, admiring the muscles of his back as he moved. he rifled through his desk for a moment as she caught her breath before turning back and walking to her, holding something small in his hands.

he looked down at her spread legs, where a few drops of his seed had leaked out of her swollen, puffy cunt. “careful now, sweetling,” he murmured. he used his free hand to push the sticky white spend back inside her, grinning at the whine she let out at the intrusion into her sensitive core. “have to make sure there’s a baby in you by next month.”

y/n nodded sleepily, eyes half shut. she gestured towards the small thing in his hand. “what’s that?” she murmured.

“oh, this?” he held it up. “it’s a collar.” the jewelry was rich, fine gold, studded with rubies and emblazoned with the sigil of house bolton. “do you know what collars are for?”

y/n blinked up at him sleepily, dreading what he was going to say.

“they tell you who owns the bitch, sweet wife.” he caressed her face gently, then pulled her up into a sitting position and fastened the collar around her neck. it sat prettily at the base of her throat, the rubies gleaming like fresh blood. “now, whose bitch are you, my love?”

y/n’s voice was hoarse and quiet from moans and cries and no small amount of fear. “yours, husband.”

“i didn’t quite hear you.” he tugged her head forward until her lips were close enough to kiss. he spoke slowly, emphasizing every word. “who. do you. belong to?” the collar was digging into the bruises on her neck, but y/n looked up at him and cleared her throat. her mind was whirling with fear, with escape plans, with the question of how she was going to survive this. “answer me, my love,” he said again, gripping the collar tighter. y/n’s eyes seemed to clear as a realization came over her, a new plan for survival. she looked up at him with hazy, false, lovesick eyes, and answered him.

“you. i belong to you.”

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Dead Girl Walking

Pairing(s): Jon Snow x Stark!Reader, Ned Stark x Catelyn Tully, refereneced!Rhaegar Targaryen x Lyanna Stark

Warnings: none

Words: 2086

Summary: If this could possibly be your last night alive, you wanted to make it worthwhile.

They were coming.

Arya and Sansa flagged either side of you, knowing that battle would be upon you soon. Maybe that night or tomorrow, the Night King’s army was drawing closer.

Winterfell had fallen onto your shoulders after your eldest brother was beheaded. When you took back your home during the Battle of the Bastards, the northern men that remained named you their queen.

No longer were the Starks scattered throughout Westeros. They were where they truly belonged: in the north. Fewer in numbers, but finally together.

Below the parapet you stood on, men and women alike were preparing themselves to fight for their lives. Surprisingly, their hustle and bustle soothed your nerves. Unsullied, Wildlings, Dothraki and noble blood laike were united. And despite the thumping of boots against stone, the night was otherwise calm and quiet. The fire at your back warmed you.

In a nervous tick, you hold the pommel of your sword. You hoped this wouldn’t be your last battle.

“Practice your dance moves while you still can.” You address Arya who nods and leaves to do just that. She had trained with the Faceless Men in Braavos; you hoped that would be enough to keep her alive. Leaving just you and Sansa alone. You didn’t want to scare her, but you needed to tell her the truth of things. “I may not make it out alive.”

Immediately she opens her mouth to protest but you silence her.

“It’s something that can very well happen. I want you to know now that if I am to die in battle, I want you to take my place as Queen of the North.” You took off the metal circlet that had been comfortably lying atop of your head. It had caused quite the argument between you and the Dragon Queen Daenerys. Even though she had accepted the north as its own separate dominion, she still didn’t like the crown on your head.It made her feel insecure. In a land where the people adored you and obviously didn’t trust her, Daenerys knew that the people were your’s. “This would look far better on you anyway.”

Sansa swallowed back whatever protest that had been sitting on her tongue. “You’ve been through worse battles than this.”

Unable to catch your laugh, you shake your head. “Never against the dead. The living are an easier foe.”

Clinking of metal behind you makes you turn. Sansa smiles fondly at the semi-armored direwolf. “Even Storm is ready for battle.” Sansa muses. Your dark gray direwolf was missing an eye from the bloody battle against Ramsay. It made her appear even more deadly than she already was. She towered over her albino brother Ghost and even some of the soldiers. The days when they were both playful puppies were long gone. Nostalgia grips you when you remembered how you and your siblings sat in a circle and picked your direwolf pups. Of course the odd looking one went to your bastard brother Jon. The albino pup had garnered your attention until Storm had stumble up to you in the most adorable fashion. She had chosen you. Out of all of your siblings, Storm wanted you as her partner in crime. From that moment you knew the two of you would be together until the very end.

And the end was probably creeping up.

As a child you had always been fearful, the kind of child that got scared over the smallest creature. Theon teased you relentlessly. Jon took the job upon himself to become your protector during such times. He would go after Theon with his sword and tend to you in an attempt to make you feel better. Thanks to Jon, he helped you learn how to be brave and not be so scared of the world around you.

You needed a little bit more help in remembering what it felt like to be brave. This was something your father had always warned you about. Winter had arrived and with it the Night King’s crusade. All of Old Nan’s tales were coming true.

Excusing yourself from Sansa’s side, you delve into the castle that was now completely your’s to control and protect. Old and ancient halls where you, Robb, and Jon would run through in the early years before Sansa and your younger siblings were born. Bruising knees on the hard stone when one of you fell down, the other two were always there to help their fallen sibling back up.

You passed the Great Hall where many were gathered, talking quietly amongst one another. Wine was being handed out to anyone who looked nervous. Liquid courage and perhaps the last sweet thing they may taste.

Some of the wildlings and Dothraki men were talking loudly, boisterous laughs echoing even though there was a language barrier. Drinking certified them as comrades in arms. The sight was enough to make you smile at least for a little bit.

Daenerys may have been gracious enough to loan you her army fro the time being, but it was you that made the Dragon Queen’s men and your own get along. The merging of Westeros and Essos. That was you. Something Robb was never able to do was keep his army together.

You inhale sharply and shake your head free of those thoughts that were best left in the grave. Yet your ears continued to grow numb to sound reducing you to stumbling about like a drunk until you finally made it to the family crypt. Your ever loyal Storm followed you down the tight stairs, making sure you didn’t fall. The musky smell of the crypts took the edge off of you as you entered the final resting place of your family. It was quiet and glowed warmly from the torches, revealing that there was one other living person already there in front of your father’s statue.

A man who turned out wasn’t Jon’s father. It must have been bittersweet for Jon to discover his true parentage.

“How fortuitous that you’re down here right when I need you most.” You smile shyly at Jon.

His lips turn up gently. “Something told me that I should come down here.” Ghost pokes his head from around the corner, red eyes two beacons of light. “Or rather someone. Besides, you used to come down here when you were younger. Something about it being quiet soothed you. For a child that was scared of everything, the crypts have never been a problem for you.”

“I felt like our ancestors were protecting me. Like they each gave me a piece of their courage.” The stoney face of Ned Stark looked down on you and Jon. Looking at the carved details of his face made you fill with sorrow. “I just wish Robb and mother could have been buried here too. . .”

“They may not be physically here, but their spirit is.” With the small amount of light offered to you, you catch sight of the scars on Jon’s face. Faint silver lines that told the story of his life at Castle black. They oddly suited him and his often serious expression. Catelyn may have never loved Jon, but Robb loved him just as much as Bran or Rickon. As hard as you searched his face, you just couldn’t see any Targaryen traits. Even if his father had been Rhaegar, Jon was of the north. The Stark in his veins was enough to overwhelm the Targaryen.

Gingerly, Jon wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you against his side. You focused on his warmth, the desires of your heart starting to become louder. There had always been an unspoken bond between you and Jon. Neither of you spoke of it out loud, afraid that even speaking of it would bring ruin to the both of you.

But he wasn’t by blood your brother. The truth was out.

Cheeks feeling warm, you take a step away from him. You laugh a little bit at yourself. “What kind of queen am I to show my fear? Mother would never have let her cards slip so easily. Sansa reminds me so much of her now. . .”

“You’re only human. You fear losing your home and people you love. You’re a good queen (y/n). Lord Ned would be proud of you and all that you have done. Winterfell once again belongs to the Starks because of you.” Dark eyes delve deep into you, eyes that wanted to let you know that everything would be okay and if not, well, Jon would stay by your side just like Storm. Until the very end. In the face of Daenerys Targaryen, Jon had to refer to her as queen; it was clear to all though that his real queen was you. He would not forsake you. Now now, not ever. Besides Robb, no man had ever loved you quite as much as Jon did.

Reaching your arms up, you cup his face with your palms. Easily Jon lets his face fall into your hands, nuzzling his nose into your touch. How easily Jon trusted you and put down his walls.

You wanted to hold him, place your head against his strong chest. Like you did when you went to the Wall to ask for his help. Years apart had changed you both greatly yet Jon’s arms still felt the same from when you had last embraced him.

Perhaps it was too bold of you, but being with Jon made you feel bolder; You sprung up on your toes and kiss. To finally kiss him after years of longing and confusion. If you were to die, you wanted to do so without any regrets. You wanted to let Jon know just how much you loved him and how you had never stopped. Relief had washed over you the moment Jon revealed what he had learned from Sam. That he wasn’t your half-brother which would still be looked down upon in the north if you were to have any sort of romantic relationship with him. Cousins were commonly married to one another.

Surprise took him as he slipped backward a little bit, but Lord Eddard Stark’s statue was enough to keep him up. It didn’t take long for him to melt against you. If you were to die, you wanted Jon to be the last thing you tasted.

Targaryen and Stark, perhaps the pair were always inevitable. The dragons had conquered the north centuries before, but had still been able to respect Torrhen Stark by giving him the title of Warden.

In his eyes you saw no dragon or wolf. You just saw Jon. Your Jon that you had known since you were a babe. Your best friend, your confidant, the one you had loved since you were a girl.

As he pulled away, stars filled his gaze as he breathed heavily.

“I love you Jon. More than a brother. More than a cousin. More than any man I have ever known.” You lower your gaze, feeling the sun in your cheeks. “If. . . If we are all to die tonight-”

Jon abruptly grabs your face and once again you’re kissing him. “We will live to see the sun rise. Not much good has prospered for me being half Targaryen, except for one thing.” To your utter shock, Jon bent down on one knee while still holding your hand. “My Queen, if you would have me it would be my honor to stand beside you for the rest of my life and after.”

You wanted to slap him initially for taking so long to propose, but you went with your second reaction: you threw yourself against him in an embrace. Both of your winter pelts smooshing against the other. “And how long have you been sitting on those words?”

Chuckling, Jon holds onto you as Storm and Ghost watch. “For years. It was never feasible until now.” You knew he could hear your heart beating fiercely. “We have no choice but to defeat the White Walkers now.”

Yes, you wouldn’t let the Night King take this one great joy away from you. For your future with Jon, you had to be brave. You would be brave. Jon had always been a source of courage for you.

The next kiss you gave him was of a different nature. Seductive and enticing, sweeter than any honey. You still wanted a taste. “Are you opposed to escorting me to my chambers?”

A boyish smile makes your chest flutter. “Of course, Your Grace.”

[asongofstarkandtargaryen]

I've seen people unironically praise Team Green characters for being bastard-phobic. I won't talk about the bias those characters within this pseudo medieval society have, but why anyone living in 21st century hates people because of things they can control ( aka the circumstances of their birth)? I don't care if you stan team Green or if Catelyn is your favourite character or if Ramsay Bolton gives you the creeps, praising bastardphobia shows you are a scum.

[willkatfanfromasia]

Yeah I just randomly decided to drop this

A Night to Remember - 4

Nandini woke up the next morning. She’d always had the tendency to watch over her back since her experience with creeps as a girl. Her eyesight was hazy, she scanned the thick tartan blanked on the pillow next to her and tied it around like a robe.

Her hands pressed against the mattress, giving away that she’d been shifted mid-nap from the sofa. Eyes still blurry, she gingerly placed her feet on the floor and stood up. Her nose sensed coffee and she unsteadily walked towards the kitchenette like a baby deer.

The sight of the man busily stirring milk and decoction brought back a tsunami of memories from last night. ‘Holy shit’ flashed in hot pink letters in her mind- she just jeopardized everything she’s worked for.

Dressed in the same clothes from yesterday, he looked proper in his olive shirt if not for the few wrinkles on the fabric. Even his casual clothes belied a certain status- a prestige that always seemed to evade her.

She licked her lips and inhaled deeply as she saw his forearm muscles flex, before they placed the mug down…

He was humming what seemed like “kaadhal yaanai varugiran remo” but…..

Nandini knew he was aware of her presence. It had always been that way with them.

The different possibilities took turns assaulting her brain. She’d have laughed at this pseudo- doctor strange moment if not for her own folly.

Procrastination was her guilty pleasure – one she rarely had time for. She worked her ass off in college and at work to establish herself. Letting her imagination run wild on what life with Aditya would look like was a rare treat she allowed herself. In the darkness of her room, her siblings just a few metres away, she’d imagine him running to her breathlessly. His relief at finding her would cause a smile to bloom in his face and she’d happily accept being carried away into the sunset.

Then came the real deal. She’d imagine how his hands would feel on her skin, his yearning after years apart translated into pleasurable caresses. Nandini couldn’t help but let her imagination take over. Her lack of experience and strong moral compass were put on hold to give herself this ‘reward’. She’d try caressing herself the way she imagined he’d do, but her soft hands lacked the same passion.

My 19 year old self would have fainted if she found out about last night, she thought, gently tiptoeing to the sofa. Truly, she feared her lofty dreams would make reality boring. This was Aditya though, last night made her most intricate fantasies pale in comparison.

A flash of olive brought her back to earth. How embarrassing she thought realising Aditya now stood in front of her and had been smiling at her for a few minutes. His eyes, having regained the cockiness of youth, twinkled as he handed her a mug of coffee.

“I ain’t no Gordon Ramsay, but I take my chai-coffee seriously “ he winked. She accepted the mug and quickly began sipping, hoping to hide her agog expression.

His behaviour really threw her off. She’d expected him to either coldly dismiss her as a one night stand – a taste of his past. Or drag her back into his family home – the den of oppression – like he’d tactlessly done all those years ago.

He was sweet, attentive but didn’t force her to talk. The clinking of spoons and ceramic, the swishing of the liquid within were the only sounds in the room.

One thing she remained assured was his honor. Even if others judge her he’d never allow her name to be tarnished.

Yes he much prefers tarnishing her himself she thought with a flush. She excused herself under the guise of ‘freshening up’ and fled back to the bedroom.

She showered and draped her saree- that miraculously wasn’t torn- as she searched her phone.

A timely buzz alerted her. She didn’t remember doing this last night,so clearly Aditya must’ve charged her phone when he woke up. She unplugged it, opened her email and scrolled through. An email from her boss titled “PRIORITY” stared back. “that’s weird” Nandini huffed but opened it anyway, the news in it making her go….

“AAAHHHHH! Y’all don’t pay me enough for this crap”

@nashibirne @nspwriteups @favcolourrvibgior @vibishalakshman @thelekhikawrites @dr-scribbler @kovaipaavai @budugu @dosai-maavu @matka-kulfi @curiousgalacticsoul @harinishivaa @chiyaanvikram-blog @celestesinsight @inveter @deepti1011 @itszhunotz @babayagahunt @thegleamingmoon @ragkee @inlovewithfictionalbeings @happysharkdragon @gowrimenonop-1 @ramcharanobsessed @nature-writes29 @voidsteffy @whippersnappersbookworm @hollogramhallucination @thereader-radhika @sowlspace @rang-lo @nirmohi-premika @love-ps1ff @canonless5 @sampigehoovu @ambidextrousarcher @balladedutempsjadis

[bohemian-nights]

"Such reasons are Ryan's self-insert, Aemond"

Where did this come from? Ryan mentioned Ramsay and the Mountain in the same sentence with Aemond and hinted that Aemond will reach their level in villainy lmao. Aemond is framed as a villain in most of his scenes as adult (at least in the scenes with the Strongs). Ryan talked about his love of Aegon 2 but I don't remember him saying that about Aemond. And he seems to really love Rhaenyra and Alicent, why do people act like Aemond is his fav because he is more complicated than he is in the book so far? He killed Luke accidentally, but the showrunners literally did a similar thing with Cole and Beesbury, and Alicent crowns Aegon by a misunderstanding. Most characters were whitewashed, not just Aemond, even Daemon was whitewashed and has been made much cooler cause he is not a pedo for starters, he is obsessed with his brother, not just power-hungry like in the book, and he is shown as the most badass character in many scenes, like at the Stepstones or in the scene with Vermithor that exists just because.

😬 Respectfully I’m going to have to disagree.

Ryan says a lot of stuff, but I tend to look at actions rather than words because words are ultimately meaningless(especially in regards to this show)

I like Aemond, but in book canon, he is quite something. I straight up dislike Rhaenyra and think that everything that happened to her in the end was deserved(I will be cheering Aegon on when does her in), but even I would will admit he’s misogynistic towards her(he's the one who should be calling her a whore and not Ser Vaemond).

He’s never bullied in the books for not having a dragon(adding that in the show feels like a justification for his behavior; the strong boys keep taunting him so of course he’s going to defend himself). Obese Gollum (aka book!Viserys) literally offered to take him to Dragonstone to find a dragon egg, but he didn’t feel a dragon egg was good enough when he could have Vhagar.

He’s arrogant as hell while in the show it seems like he was a bullied kid who was trying to stick it to his bullies.

The Cole and Beesbury(let’s be honest no one cares about him) thing isn’t really a good comparison.

Originally they were going to keep Luke’s death book canon but somewhere in production, it got changed to it being an accident on Aemond’s part. I suspect that the reason why this was is because Luke is Missy Anne’s beloved son.

Having Aemond kill him in cold blood(especially when Luke is so small in comparison) makes him look outright villainous rather than settling an old debt.

So taking all of that into account if Ryan was going to make him into a psychopath he’s already failed at that and I doubt Aemond will ever reach Ramsey and Mountain levels. (Nor should he because Aemond, even book Aemond who should be in therapy, isn’t an actual psychopath like the other two).

There are some key moments where they could’ve worked in Aemond being two seconds away from a genocidal manic, but all they’ve shown is a boy who loves his mama, a victim of ostracization, bullying, and parental neglect.

I really do get your point, because in a way everyone on this show has kinda been screwed over, including Aemond, but I think that with Aemond they tried to make him into someone you would root for despite his oopses.

All I will say about the Aegon situation is that you don’t make characters you love into outright rapists when you are trying to humanize them and make them likable. They could’ve taken out the rape bits and shown him as a man boy struggling to deal with parental neglect so he’s turned to alcohol to cope. It’s not perfect, but people can empathize with that. However him being a rapist is where most people will draw the line. Ryan may not have said he loved Aemond, but he did a lot more to mellow him out than he did for Aegon.

In regards to Daemon, he definitely has not been whitewashed. If anything he has been made worse. He’s still shown to be a pedo(creeping on Rhaenyra ashen she’s 15) getting with someone he considers a child(Laena cause she’s even younger than Miss Maegor). He killed his first wife in cold blood, neglected Laena(who was his most beloved wife in the book), and choked out Missy Anne.

Let’s not forget that Nettles, the person whom he loved without an ulterior motive, who shows he cares for more than just the throne and isn’t just a heartless Valyrian supremacist, is MIA.

He’s also the voice of reason on the Black council and isn’t just trying to rush into war, but that was axed in favor of Let’s attack the Greens because they killed my walking corpse of a big brother🤪

All the good parts of Daemon have been stripped away to make him into the big bad man(so far). I won’t disagree that Daemon has been shown as a badass in the show, but he’s a badass in the books as well(ex. Six men or Sixty; The Battle Above the Gods Eye; challenging Laena’s betrothed to a duel and winning her hand, etc).

That’s literally the only thing they haven’t taken away from him.

Being a badass is great and all, but that’s not a positive trait(How many villains can you name that are badass? Darth Vadar anyone? Scar, Thanos, The Joker), especially when you combine it with all the other stuff Daemon has done.

He’s not just supposed to be a badass brute. He has a personality. Ryan Condal is severely limiting him.

[esther-dot]

Jeyne W is good sister of Sansa and Jeyne P is close friend almost sister to Sansa. Both Jeyne are similar to Sansa in many aspects. Jeyne W married to Robb and Jeyne P was rescued by Theon. Both Robb and Theon are foils to Jon. Just like Jon and Sansa, Jeyne and Robb thinking to name their kid after Ned. Theon and Jeyne had similarities with Jonsa.

Oh yes, I of course can't find them all right now, but several of us have written about Robb/Jeyne in relation to Jonsa as well as Theon/Jeyne (the life is not a song callback). As far as I know, Theon is the character Martin singled out as the foil for Jon, and therefore, I found the inclusion of Sansa and her stories, Theon's reclaiming of his identity aligning with them, very interesting as we know he’s associated with Jon in his mind:

It was not right that she should look to him for rescue. What had she been thinking, that he would whistle up a winged horse and fly her out of here, like some hero in the stories she and Sansa used to love? He could not even help himself. Reek, Reek, it rhymes with meek. (ADWD, The Prince of Winterfell)

I could jump, he thought. He lived, why shouldn't I? He could jump, and … And what? Break a leg and die beneath the snow? Creep away to freeze to death?

It was madness. Ramsay would hunt him down, with the girls. Red Jeyne and Jez and Helicent would tear him to pieces if the gods were good. Or worse, he might be taken back alive. "I have to remember my name," he whispered. (ADWD, A Ghost in Winterfell)

He and the girl were alone. If they take us alive, they will deliver us to Ramsay.

Theon grabbed Jeyne about the waist and jumped. (ADWD, Theon I)

The idea of saving another person being a crucial part of coming back to oneself seems relevant to Jonsa as Jon will have recently been assassinated/awakened and dealing with the trauma of that when Sansa flees to him for help.

[dead-dolphins]

She actually has conscience. How could Hiana not be seething with jealousy when she does not even have a tenth of what Mikasa has? Also, her envy was encouraged by the only person (her mom) who pays attention to her aside from that creep, Ramsey.

Exactly! She’s become who she is because all the right ingredients were there, especially with Victoria as her mother, which really brings in that element of toxic parenting. It’s no wonder she turned out the way she did, given the influence! As for Ramsay, yes, he’s just pure chaos, there’s not much more to him than being a potential degenerate. He’s one-dimensional in that sense, just a madman through and through.

[redraven393]

Catching up with Philza QSM Vod

July 22

hai phil-Early birbs lets go

You do have so many shits laying around

AUSIE AUSIE OIOIOI

Tallulah Darling hi :D its SO early for u-CHAYANNE HONEY YU AWAKE! - KIDDO buddy You give us ALL a HEARTATTCAK

Yeah scold him Phil >:(- PFFT Tallulah! -  CHAYANNE PLS SHE HAVENT SLEPT

ETOILES WOULD BE PUT IN PRISON

Safety first :D- no joint room

Well the kid literally have been sleeping a lot Lullah what do you expected?

PFTT 3 HOURS? CHAYANNE BUDDY PLS REST

Pretty – LMAO PHIL PLS THE 4th WALL PHIL

Yeah the room is not orange enough- Gordon ramsay tangent-

OMG TALLULAH SWEETY WHY DIDN’T YOU HAVE ANY FOOD?!- AVACADO toast FOR THE WIN!- CHAYANNE you too!

Food Check- DÉCOR time – Judging ur vibe-

Oh no u stuck- YAY FREDOM – IKEA LETS GOO

Lol the kids- all pumpkins- YAH STEAL THE RICH

Oh what about forever?- DID YA WIN SON??- AWWW noo

Woah that’s far- that is such a unique pattern- jumping blok-

Where is she?- PlANT TIME- WOAHH COOL- hey Tallulah

Oh ? good news first- white puffball U can eat them??

Yeah so Storage rooms

Grappling time- HERE WE GO

Yeah must be Dappers doing- Dapper is so crazy- HOLLY SHIT DAPPER U ARE CRAZY- ITS IN ALPHEBITICAL ORDER?!- It’s the Tesseract

Lol yeah you guys spend way to much time marveling dapper’s farm

Lolwas that enough?- fastest adventure we had- yeah don’t wory Lullah ur safe now

YEAH DÉCOR TIME AGAIN- yeah this looks good

Oh hey Tubbo

Oh?- Spanish music?- dance time cant hear the song thou

If you don’t know about love FUQ OFF lol- opp TOXIC- good guy behavior?

Lol yeah put all of it

CHAYANNNE- we did all that huh

Oh wait? They have titles??- YEAH CHAT GET YOUR TOAST

That is so cool- oh yeah you did that

AWW So CUTE

Yeah it look so good

AW YEAH WILL’S LETTERS

Phil’s pls he was assassinated by a baby

PFFT PHIL PLS NOT THAT ONE

A picture for the whole fam

Ahh a trip down the memory lane

Ah yes his favorite pic

Lol he got a pc-yeah not a good idea to put it next to the fire-well a kid got to have his fun

AWW THAT IS SO CUTE :D

AGUSTIN

Lol “no. MINE”

New song- yeah2 vod watchers cant hear anything lol- SPYxFAMILY??-OHH COMEDY that one

Yeah that is sweet

LET HIM COOK

Yeah it is pretty

LMAO Phil pls-PERMITED LETS GO

Phil pls

YEAH LETS GO to the TOP

Wicked lets go

Oh? A shulker box? Eyyo?

Lol bird brain go brr

:)

“Probably trash “he said LIES

PFFT LMAO he did it the son of a ditch

Lol its all fun Chayanne don worry- phil pls

STAR GAZING LETS GO

To the uppies place-safe and sound

Heloo-it DOES LOOK like a nest – birdza strikes again-The crows nest :D

AWW :D- so cute- an ECLIPSE- CUTE-

YEAH BED TIME STORY – OHH a SUPERNOVA

Oh the Beetlejuice :D- Yeah INFO DUMP

YEAH that is Cool

Gotta pay that bill

Yeah he did do that- Chayanne pls buddy

Yeah well they have reasons to be paranoid Tallulah, years of experience ca do that

:( PHILZA – YES WE DID SO PLS STAY SAFE

:’)

AWW KIDS WE LOVE YOU TOO – what happened with the squid?- aww buddy

Ah shit, imma cry – music paid actor

Goofy picture

Oh? – AWW KIDDO :’D

UGH MY HEART – AWW BUDY – PFT Tallulah sweety

AWW YOU TWO

Holly Lullah u have plenty

YEAH BED TIME

Opp ur stuck - oh okay good

Old chair

Etoiles have high standards- lmao- ??? holy – opp she voided

Question time- iron? Oh its not/j- pfft

Opp welcome back!- pfft

Yeah lets goo- oh so the Fed didn’t kidnaped you?

Yeah go get rest kiddos- oh that’s okay Tallulah

a hotel brunt down?-

?

who

OH FUCK OFF YOU BINARY BASTARDS

STOP TAKING PHOTOS U SHIT

WALTERBOB?!

FUCK OFF

STAY AWAY FROM CHAYANNE YOU SON OF DITCH

YEAH GO OFF PHIL- YEAH AND STAY THE FUK AWAY YA SHIT

Yeh he did- scuff encounter- YEAH NO MERCY- NOT IF HE WAS THE BINARY BASTARD

Vote for Walter

Pfft ever the humble Tallulah- okay stop fighting

Yeh MUSIC BOX

STAY SAFE KIDDOS

GOODNIGHT TALLULAH CHAYANNE

a fresh BRUISED Lettuce

BYE KIDS

Yeah those guys are creeps

?? oH YEaH IT DID- Failed egg? I mean why did the FEDs even made the EGGS

Chat?- PFT THT IS TOO BIG

YEY BYE PHIL