#flaayed

[boltxnbastard]

flaayed replied to your post “I actually like Ramsay now because of this damn blog and your damn...”

We also have puppies!

Yes! How could I forget the puppies!?

[ironhostaged-blog]

flaayed replied to your post:��

*kissy face @ you*

is this you enabling me or. . .just being a kissy face

[ironhostaged-blog]

🌑 ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) no good will come of this but i couldnt resist

Send 🌑 to crawl into bed with my muse // no longer accepting

      In another lifetime, with another name, he would’ve gladly welcomed any warm body to share the night with. Once he’d had his share of whores, tavern wenches, and even other men’s wives. But that belonged to Theon Greyjoy, the Ironborn Heir, and his ever present smiles, not Reek. Never Reek.      A frosty wind blew outside, bringing down a barrage of snow. His thin body shivered violently beneath layers of tattered, old blankets, and somehow he’d managed to fall into a light slumber despite everything trying to keep him awake.      At first, Reek thought he’d been dreaming when he felt a shift of weight beside him. It wasn’t until an arm draped itself across his chest that he even stirred. . .and realized who’d slipped underneath such meager covers with him. A sliver of moonlight revealed enough of Ramsay to know for certain it was him.       Was this some kind of test? Fear froze Reek to the core, and tension coiled in every limb. He didn’t dare to even breathe now, petrified of what Ramsay might do. Was he awake and awaiting to play out some twisted new game? It was too dark to tell, and he couldn’t bring himself to move and try to see.       All he knew for certain was the warm radiating off the other’s skin and quiet evenness of breathing barely audible over the howling winds. Reek laid there in silence, lips moving in unspoken prayer, asking for mercy, mercy, MERCY.

[mcdiicmarchived]

{ @flaayed x }

Friend or foe? It didn’t fucking matter. 

All Laura was trying to do was help, clearly have no interest in his craziness. 

“Look- do you want my help or not?” Bending down, the blonde came in contact with the other’s eyes just for a quick minute as he had been wincing. Pain. Something physical (this time); a situation she had been through multiple times. It didn’t fool her when someone was really hurt.

“I could always get you to a hospital and leave you there if you’d prefer that, pretty boy.”