Dauthdaert-the-orchid

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.”

The dynamics just from the first chapter were so fun, with such great world building… I have a feeling we’re all gonna wanna see where it leads us!

Read it. Now.

Happy Valentine’s Day Thramsay fam!!!

After breaking down in the middle of nowhere, Theon and his brothers find themselves stranded in a remote cabin in the woods. Used to the finer things in life, Theon is unimpressed with the rustic charm of the Hornwood. It doesn’t help that his host, Ramsay Bolton, seems to take sadistic pleasure in his pain.

Things only get worse after a boating accident leaves Theon with amnesia.

All alone with no memory, he has no choice but to trust the man that claims to be his fiancé.

The long anticipated Overboard 1987 Thramsay AU!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63046321

Hooooooooooly shit. Simply stunning!! No words… Other than… Everyone must read this fic and see this art…!!!!Truly some of the best pieces of art around…🤩😍

Theon humping Ramsays stomach

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59310016/chapters/151263199?view_adult=true

(Love your work gendry! Big love forger and ever on the work 💚🙏🏻

A get-to-know-me. I was tagged by; @wetcarcass (a month ago😭) and @liocreates! Thanks for the tag!

Now, all two people who are reading this…

Last Song: All of Clamavi De Profundis’ covers of LOTR songs… Especially Song of Durin. Call me a nerd, I don’t care. I wear that title like a badge of honor.

Last Movie: The Lovely Bones/The Last Duel (highly underrated movie!)

Last Book: I read a lot of books simultaneously (I can’t put one story down competently for another. I can’t choose.) So I’m not certain which I finished last, but I think it was Les Miserables. Because I like to torture my emotions.

Last TV Show: TWD. It’s sentimental… love starting it over again. And that first episode is peak tv.

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: I like to torture my digestive tract, so spicy is my fave.

Relationship Status: Don’t believe in such a thing;)

Last Thing I Googled: Medieval castle designs, and where to stab into someone’s side without killing them (if you ever needed to, let’s say, pin someone to a tree with knives)… It did not yield quite the results I expected.

Current Obsession: Mythological Thramsay. Reading all the great Thramsay out there. Discussing Thramsay… hehe. And getting better with my bow. And riding more… but that’s boring stuff.

Can’t tag anyone; they’ve all been tagged:) But if you wanna do it, then tag me so I can see! Let’s get to know each other!

Commission done by cereza365.

Theon stared at the flames over the rim of his wine goblet, brooding on the injustice of it all. “I rode beside Robb Stark in the Whispering Wood,” he muttered. He had been frightened that night, but not like this. It was one thing to go into battle surrounded by friends, and another to perish alone and despised. Mercy, he thought miserably.

— ACOK, THEON VI.

The biggest confidence boost is knowing that even my shittiest fanfic will be 10,000% better than any AI generated bullshit

Seriously. Where’s the hype for Thramsay? Feel like it’s not what it used to be😭

I hate how fandom has become "if you haven't created anything in this very specific time frame after the release of the show/movie, everyone will have moved on"

And call me old fashioned, but that's just not me. I sometimes take ages to create and publish. And I will love a show or movie for such a long time (years, babes, years) that I just can't relate to the fast consumerism that's going on.

Because, let's be real, it can get really lonely in a fandom if most have simply moved on to the next shiny thing. Is what's created less worth, just because it was created outside the hype? Why is it such a taboo for this new fandom generation to love an old or "late" fic or art?

It's so tiring and I'm too old for the 30-seconds-hype-tiktok-shit. Just tired. So, so tired.

‘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

“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)

the sketch from my old blog that i sadly imprisoned