Place Your Bets
There was a soft ‘tsk’ behind him. Theon tensed as, with a quiet grunt, a large body slid on with him. To his horror, a thick arm hooked around his stomach and pulled him flush against the person at his back, the warmth of it drawing forth immediate goosebumps across his flesh.
The knobs of his spine sank into the soft stomach, he felt them vibrate with the rumbling chuckle emanating from the chest behind him. He squirmed in the confinement.
He can’t be serious. Hasn't he mocked me enough tonight? The clear implication that he was incapable of doing this on his own nearly made him combust with the sheer force of his righteous anger.
Even worse, the man’s large metal belt buckle dug into his backside, drawing his attention to how unbearably close they were.
“Get away.” He pushed an elbow back into the other man’s side. It didn’t seem to have any effect whatsoever; he remained unmoved. Theon huffed and quickly gave it up as no use. That didn’t mean he had to take this treatment silently though. “I’m not a child,” he hissed through gritted teeth.
Lips at his ear, hair tickling the shell of it. “Then quit acting like one if you don’t want me to treat you like one.”
Theon’s lip curled of its own volition. “It’s not for you to say how I behave or don’t behave.” He hated the hint of truth in Ramsay’s words; he had been acting rather like a child tonight. But like hell was he ever going to admit that.
The arm around him tightened, pushing the air from his lungs. “Mmm,” Ramsay hummed, rubbing his other large hand down Theon’s arm. “Maybe not yet. But from that pitiful performance earlier, I think it’s obvious you need some guidance.”
Theon felt his stomach quiver at his use of the word ‘pitiful’; nearly everyone in his life had slung that descriptor at him at one point or another. But he refused to give in so easily here and now. “I can ride,” he snapped.
“Really?” There was an obvious smile in the other man’s voice. His tone dropped in register, breath ghosting across the back of his neck. “Then show me.”
This artist is so talented😩 I love their work so much!!
Some book Ramsay, I have a sudden urgent to bite his belly
‘don’t you want your favourite character to be happy???’ no? i want my favourite character to be interesting. i want me to be happy. which sometimes involves my favourite character being in exquisite agony
Um. So uh. I'm writing the Modern AU where Ramsay, Theon and Myssa work at the mall. Myssa's at Hot Topic and the boys are at Spencer's. Here's a snippet of Myssa introducing Jeyne to her morbid fiction game. (Spoiler alert, but Myssa and Jeyne will never be friends in any universe. Sorry not sorry. But I live for their misaligned interactions.)
Myssa nodded towards the Spencer’s, where Mr. Canines’ dirty blond friend was positioning a promotional sign just outside the store’s entrance. His jeans were way too tight and his black long sleeved tee looked like it had seen better days, even from a distance. By how faded it was, she recognized it as the one that had Cthulhu on the front.
“That guy,” she began, staring at him intently while he tripped over the corner of the sign’s metal stand and looked around to see if anyone noticed. “Goes to buy weed from his regular dealer but it’s a setup. Escapes the cops on foot but hops the wrong fence. Two massive dogs defending their yard chase him, bite the shit out of his leg. He’s bleeding, stumbling, jumps the next fence, slips on his own blood and falls into the neighbor’s pool. Only it’s still covered and his weight makes him sink, water flooding in, drowning him kicking and screaming and tangling himself to death.”
“Theon?” Jeyne burst out laughing. “Honestly, you might not be far off.”
Myssa turned her attention back to her coworker. “You know him?”
“Yeah, he’s my best friend’s foster brother. Or, uh, he was. Before he turned eighteen and he got kicked out for stealing Mr. Stark’s beer.” She looked thoughtful and laughed again. “You know, he’s more likely to die from getting too drunk at the river and falling in. Not exciting, but realistic. I mean, hardly anyone has a pool around here.”
Myssa shifted her jaw and grabbed a pen from the counter to jab at the notepad beside the POS. Of course Jeyne would ruin the game by being “realistic” about it. That wasn’t the point at all. That was boring.
“Fine.” Myssa directed her glare at Theon’s back as he headed into the opposite store. “How about he tries to blow himself upside down on his couch. Cums in his throat and aspirates to death on his own jizz.”
“Oh my god, you are vile,” Jeyne said and burst out laughing so hard she slapped her manicured hand on the counter. She nodded furiously, pigtails waving. “Yes. One hundred percent. You have him pegged.”
Dog Hybrid Theon fic.
Title: Adopt Me.
Give it a read if you feel like.
Thank you endlessly to @theeironprice for this incredible fic graphic, AND the prompt!! (And you should definitely check out their fic in this collection: Spoil Me, if you haven’t yet, and give it all the love! We need more of it!!)
Adopt Me: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63158356
Spoil Me: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63158908
“a friend and brother” :’(
The night was windless, the snow drifting straight down out of a cold black sky, yet the leaves of the heart tree were rustling his name. “Theon,” they seemed to whisper, “Theon.”
The old gods, he thought. They know me. They know my name. I was Theon of House Greyjoy. I was a ward of Eddard Stark, a friend and brother to his children. “Please.” He fell to his knees. “A sword, that’s all I ask. Let me die as Theon, not as Reek.” Tears trickled down his cheeks, impossibly warm. “I was ironborn. A son … a son of Pyke, of the islands.”
A leaf drifted down from above, brushed his brow, and landed in the pool. It floated on the water, red, five-fingered, like a bloody hand. “… Bran,” the tree murmured.
They know. The gods know. They saw what I did. And for one strange moment it seemed as if it were Bran’s face carved into the pale trunk of the weirwood, staring down at him with eyes red and wise and sad. Bran’s ghost, he thought, but that was madness. Why should Bran want to haunt him? He had been fond of the boy, had never done him any harm. It was not Bran we killed. It was not Rickon. They were only miller’s sons, from the mill by the Acorn Water. “I had to have two heads, else they would have mocked me … laughed at me … they …”
A voice said, ”Who are you talking to?“
Theon spun, terrified that Ramsay had found him, but it was just the washerwomen—Holly, Rowan, and one whose name he did not know. ”The ghosts,“ he blurted. ”They whisper to me. They … they know my name.“
- A Ghost in Winterfell (ADWD)
I can’t handle looking at this for more than a few seconds at a time. Feels too real and I’m simply in awe🥺❤️💗❤️ Look at their art! It is all so beautiful! And TY, TY, TY!!
All bets are off, art from my favorite part of the fic! (All of it’s my fav but this part was good!
Fic by @dauthdaert-the-orchid
https://archiveofourown.org/works/62885251
Um, my eyes have been blessed this day🥺❤️💝The detail here is astounding and I am so beyond touched and grateful.
from @dauthdaert-the-orchid fic all bets are off!!
I loved the story and it's setting, the descriptions, and god! the characterisation was on point! Definitely a big fan so I thought what can I do to show my love? 🤔
Draw! So I did Ramsay riding his bull, because it was one of my fav parts (and I love drawing animals)
She/Her, mid 20s Could talk about Thramsay/Asoiaf all day. Well, could talk about lots of things all day, but we’ll go with those for now.If you’re under 18 and on my blog, I will literally call up your parental figures. See if I don’t. If dark things upset you, stay far away from here. Ye been warned.
59 posts