northernhounds

[northernhounds]

[northernhounds]

bxstardcrowking‌:

Wary almost as soon as Ramsay began speaking, Jon attempted to stifle his discomfort from having a visible presence for he knew that the other man would easily exploit it. “Aye, sometimes they do and sometimes they don’t,” he returned coolly, refusing to rise to the bait being thrown his direction. It was rather obvious that Ramsay, as always, sought to get under his skin, only this time he did not have the advantage of being behind the walls of his home to hide the irritation the other caused. Instead he exhaled slowly to calm himself  and watched Ramsay cautiously as he stood, curious as to how things were going to proceed. 

“Why ask? You’re well aware of my weekly routines apparently…” Jon huffed, turning an unimpressed stare upon the other man. “I prefer a quiet evening, well as quiet as it can get around here.” It was not nearly as well crafted as Ramsay’s digs, though it was no less of one, referring to the music the other would often play - he suspected it was specifically to irritate him. “I suppose you’d know all about the busy social life more than I…” he added, lifting his shoulders in a shrug, hoping that Ramsay would get off his door and resume their quiet war behind closed doors. 

He just wanted to go inside and read his book with a cup of tea.  

“You mean you prefer a boring evening.” Ramsay shot back, smug. “Well, that’s no surprise. You are, apparently, the dullest person I’ve ever had the misfortune of knowing.” He cocked his head to the side, and smirked. “Do you even have friends, Jon? The only people I ever see visiting you are those cousins of yours.” He paused, waited a beat. “And they haven’t been by in a while. Got better plans?”

He leant back against the door again, arms folded over his chest. “Ah, you’ve noticed then?” After all, he didn’t bother to keep the noise down for his neighbour’s sake. Those walls were awfully thin. “What can I say? I’m a popular guy. If you dropped that miserable brooding thing you’ve got going on, you might get yourself a little attention too. A little advice for you - sullen isn’t attractive.”

Bad Neighbours

[northernhounds]

whitewxlfrises:

Continued: [x]  |  @ruthlessresolution

Hands in his curls sparked the beginnings of sensation that Jon craved, but it wasn’t until he collided with the wall and he felt the impact bloom a beautiful ache that a soft moan fell from his lips, gasped almost like relief. Fingers dug against Ramsay’s hips more tightly as teeth teased at his skin, his mind blank to everything but the sensations that were finally filtering through his usual numb state. Later, he might regret the way Ramsay had him almost on display but for now he could not get past his need to feel alive. 

The words irked him as he registered them, frowning briefly though he could not maintain it with the way Ramsay’s breath brushed over his skin, promising later sensation that might linger long enough to sate him for a time. Part of him loathed the fact he required Ramsay Bolton to feel much of anything, but it was not enough to keep him away. 

“And you always take what I’m offering…” he hissed, refusing to become meek simply due to the way he required Ramsay. “Let’s not pretend you gain nothing from this…” It had taken him a while to realise as much; too wrapped up in brooding and lamenting the fact he required the man before him more than he preferred admitting to, but slowly it had begun to show. Now they were wrapped up in each other, leeching off what the other could provide. The damned bastards of the North he thought with bitter amusement, before he cast it aside, lifting his hand instead from Ramsay’s hip to twist into the other man’s hair.  

“I do not deny it.” Ramsay growled back, his lips quirking up into a devilish grin. Fingers in his hair had him hissing sharply, but with a hint of delight that was never far from their encounters. Jon was right. He did always take what was on offer - how could he not, when it was everything he craved, and more? Jon gave him the opportunity to flex his desires in ways no one else had ever managed.

He dragged nails down Jon’s back, hard enough for the gesture to be felt through the layers of leather that coated him. It was merely a hint of what could be - and he knew Jon would know that. It was a means of temptation, although he doubted Jon needed any more tempting these days. It was all too easy to convince him into his bed.

“Do you deny it, Jon?” He murmured, leaning close enough for his breath to ghost over Jon’s skin. “Do you still deny that I give you life?”

Craving Sensation

[northernhounds]

northernhounds‌:

just a post to remind people that this blog follows back from princesircastic - so if you’re wondering who that is that just followed you, it’s me!

also: don’t feel like you have to follow my main blog! the muses there do have verses for G/oT but I honestly don’t expect people to follow it!

[northernhounds]

bxstardcrowking‌:

Continued: [x]  |  @ruthlessresolution

“Did you know much of your mother, my lord?” Jon replied, perhaps a little cruelly, Ramsay’s nature encouraging a fight, a chance to whisper in spite for he knew before too long it would be he who was to have the game turned upon him. Sure enough, he found himself backed up against the wall of the stables, caged by his fellow bastard’s body. He did not have much time to contemplate the smile offered to him before lips were against his in a too gentle kiss. 

Eyes slipped close, unable to deny that he enjoyed the chance for affection, and he kissed Ramsay back, damned no matter what his response truly was. After all, Ramsay had been studying him long enough to know when he was simply denying himself on principle, out of a sense of duty, or because he simply could not admit that this was something he did want. 

“Aye.” Ramsay nodded, ignoring the subtle cruel hint in Jon’s voice. It was bitter jealousy, he knew. Jon had never even known his mother’s name. “She raised me, for a time.” He said no more on the matter, simply indulging in the rare moment of peace where no prying eyes could disrupt them. When he had first come to Winterfell he had felt as though all eyes had been upon him, waiting for him to slip up, to make a mistake that would send him packing back to the Dreadfort. Now, however, it seemed he was trusted enough to be left alone.

At least, alone with the other bastard of Winterfell. He knew he’d been drawn to Jon initially simply out of a shared history. They were both looked down upon for their names, for being bastards despite having no control over that themselves. He’d been a kindred spirit. The attraction had come later. “Why do you fight me, Jon? I know you. I know this is what you want.”

Bastards Together

[northernhounds]

bxstardcrowking‌:

Continued: [x]  |  @ruthlessresolution

“Your entertainment, then.” Jon corrected shortly, sparing no more words than necessary as he was held under the weight of the other’s palm at his back and amused stare before him. He listened quietly, glad for the time he had spent at the wall, the time Ser Alliser had mocked and bullied for it had toughened his exterior, made him harder to crack than the boy who had ventured North. 

“Aye, I’ve seen your men. I’ve heard about your hunting…” he confirmed, not giving his thoughts on the matter, ignoring the thinly veiled threat issued, at least outwardly. “Whether I bore you or not is very much up to you, I am sure. Let’s not pretend I have any say on that matter, my Lord,” he replied, neck stiff as the warm breath of the other brushed against his ear. 

“Oh, you are definitely my entertainment, bastard.” Ramsay laughed, delighted at the hard defiance evident in Jon’s posture. He was determined not to give in to him. Well, that was fine. He preferred it when they fought him. It only made the game sweeter, and the end result much more satisfying. Jon would give in eventually. He’d break. 

They all did in the end.

“Perhaps I shall take you on one of my hunting trips one day. You can see it for yourself.” He lingered for a moment, refusing to give Jon even an inch of personal space, before retreating back rather sharply. “Oh you have every say on the matter, Jon. I mean, if you don’t work to keep me entertained, that’s your decision. Maybe I was wrong to assume you wanted to keep your life, and protect the lives of those bratty half-siblings of yours.”

Battle of Wills

[northernhounds]

whitewxlfrises‌:

Anger boiled beneath Jon’s skin as Ramsay continued to refer to the time that Sansa had spent with him, his own memories of the recounts she had provided him with riling him further. ”Then you shall just have to contain your disappointment.” His tone was almost a growl as he spoke, the fierce wolf within him awakening with a snarl to protect his pack, making his tone too frosty, in truth, for a negotiation. 

“I think you are well aware of the hostage I intend to commit in my brother’s place. Why else would I be here?” He could still hear the arguments against it in his head, but how could he do anything but offer himself? There should always be a true Stark to carry on the family name, and he was no true Stark. All he could do was protect the pack, and pray that the other plans would remain in motion to defend against the threat to the North. 

Oh, it was so fun to watch Jon’s anger bubble and boil. He was so easy to provoke - too easy, really, so much so that it was hardly even a game to him now. All he had to do was push a few buttons, or say one name, and Jon would be ripe with fury and even easier to manipulate in whatever way he wished. 

“Ah, but I need to hear it, bastard. You see, that is how this situation works. You tell me your offer, put forward your end of the bargain, and I - in my position of power - decide whether or not I like the sound of it.” He grinned, drumming his fingers on the back of the chair once more. “So, out with it, bastard. Tell me what it is you offer to me.”

Bartering With Bastards

[northernhounds]

Ramsay’s smug grin was enough answer to that. In fact, he rather liked the image of Jon wearing his shirt more than Jon could probably imagine. It was a matter of possession, he supposed. A means of marking Jon as his. “I don’t mind.” He followed Jon into the house, giving his partner’s hand a brief but firm squeeze.

“It suits you.” Of course, anything black suited Jon. If he hadn’t seen the splashes of colour in the other boy’s wardrobe upon occasion, he would have doubted Jon even owned anything that wasn’t black.

"Is that my shirt?" (yOU KNOW WHO FROM)

Send “Is that my shirt?” for your muse finding mine in your muse’s shirt  |  Accepting  |  @ruthlessresolution

“Might be…” Jon grinned, closing the door behind Ramsay as he beckoned him into the house, thankful that his father was elsewhere. “You left it here, I figured you wouldn’t mind too much if I wore it…” he continued, refusing to admit he had perhaps been wearing it a little too much. He shrugged after speaking and took Ramsay’s hand, leading the way upstairs to his room, eager to get their studying out the way so they could focus on more interesting things.

[northernhounds]

allthosevoices‌:

@ruthlessresolution liked for a starter from Oberyn

“I find it interesting that you should reach out to Dorne, Lord Bolton, and yet not so at all given your status in Westeros. After all, in Dorne, we do not persecute those born out of wedlock for the circumstances of their birth unlike the masses.” A pleasant enough smile remained on Oberyn’s face as he mused upon the tactics of such a decision, admiring it in a way. If it were not for some of the less savoury aspects of the family he was treating with, he might even go so far as to say he might be entirely unopposed to such an alliance. But given the man trades in the same humiliation Elia suffered I can not.

“So, tell me, Lord Bolton, what is it you’re proposing between the North and Dorne?”

Truthfully, Ramsay would have much preferred not to deal with the Dornish - they were, geographically, the furthest potential allies he could use. Unfortunately, they were also some of the only potential allies left to him. If he had learned anything in his life, it was that sometimes beggars couldn’t be choosers. Not that he considered himself a beggar, of course. Ramsay Bolton did not beg for anything.

“I am no longer considered a bastard.” He bit the words out with no small degree of venom, an automatic response. He doubted the Dornish prince had made the remark with any intention of cruelty, and yet the words had tumbled from his lips without hesitation. “But your shameless freedom is, I admit, an inspiration. If only the rest of Westeros shared your beliefs.”

He knew how to be diplomatic. He had watched his father at work - even if Roose had been something of a strange one even to those who had considered him a strong ally (but never a friend, he had noted with interest), he knew how to talk to others of similar or higher status. He also knew how to charm. “I have never cared for the laws and customs of this world. I suspect we have that in common, my lord.”

A Potential Alliance

[northernhounds]

His first sensation was the feeling of cold fingers against his skin, drawing him out of the haze he’d been in for what felt like years. His eyes cracked open, slowly, the room taking its time to focus into coherent shapes and figures. He could hear the sounds of fellow soldiers all around him, groaning or moaning in various stages of agony. Still here, then.

Jon’s voice encouraged him to return fully to consciousness, and he turned his head stiffly against the pillow to gaze upon him. He looked tired - exhausted, in fact - and in desperate need of some time off. He was uninjured, however. That was something to celebrate at least. Ignoring the aches and pains that pulsed continuously through him, pushing aside the deep-rooted agony of his more serious injuries, he managed a smile for him.

“I d’know, Jon...” His voice was a little slurred, from the pure exhaustion that had settled over him since he was injured. “Seein’ your face when I wake makes it a little easier.”

KISS FOR RAMRAM

FIRST THREE IN MY INBOX GET KISSES  |  Accepting  |  3/3  |  @ruthlessresolution

Dashing into the ward, Jon tore past bed after bed of soldiers, before finding one at the end bearing the man he had come to see. Abandoning his restraint, given the fact he was surrounded by only the dying, grievously injured and the overworked, he dropped to the bedside, fingers curling around Ramsay’s with a saddened, sharp inhale. 

“Ram’…” he breathed, praying he had not been too late, that the reports were not wrong and he would find the other injured more horrifically than the already awful reports suggested. When he caught sight of the other man stirring, he breathed a sigh of relief, cradling the hand he clung to between his own, pressing his lips to the knuckles in a thankful kiss.  He was not foolish enough to allow himself to believe Ramsay was going to come back from this, too terrified that it would only end up with him crushed when he realised his hope for another few years in this lifetime were not an option. 

“This never gets easier,” he breathed, his words even despite the way his mind protested, screaming words as his emotions churned beneath the surface. Please don’t leave me yet. Not again. 

[northernhounds]

3 LITTLE WORDS... || starter pack

Send me one to see how my muse reacts. Some are fluffy, some are angsty, some are smutty, some are something else entirely…

Some of these may be triggering or NSFW!

“I love you.”

“I hate you.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“I guess so…”

“I guess not.”

“Love me, please.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t touch me.”

“Please, hold me.”

“Pain changes people.”

“You haven’t changed.”

“Please don’t go.”

“Look behind you.”

“Go kill yourself.”

“I can change.”

“Don’t ever change.”

“Want a hit?”

“Do you smoke?”

“Fuck me now.”

“Take my hand.”

“Lead the way.”

“Duck and cover!”

“Just go home.”

“Take me home.”

“Walk me there?”

“Everyone, shut up!”

“Just shut up.”

“Please stop it.”

“Please don’t die.”

“I need you.”

“I want you.”

“Want a hug?”

“Want a kiss?”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you lying?”

“That’s the truth.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Oh my God.”

“For fuck’s sake!”

“I got it.”

“I found it.”

“Call me later.”

“Text me later.”

“Don’t call me.”

“Are you crying?”

“I wasn’t crying.”

“Please don’t laugh.”

“Please don’t cry.”

“That’s a lie.”

“What’d they say?”

“What’ll it be?”

“It’s last call.”

“It’s almost midnight.”

“Do you promise?”

“That’s a promise.”

“Are you serious?”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

“I punched him.”

“I killed him.”

“I kissed him.”

“I love him.”

“I hate him.”

“I lied before.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not sorry.”

“I’ll come over.”

“Can you come?”

“Want to cuddle?”

“Maybe we should.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t.”

“You don’t say.”

“Make me come.”

“Did you come?”

“I stole it.”

“I broke it.”

“Any bones broken?”

“Are you okay?”

“Are you hurt?”

“That must’ve hurt.”

“He was lying.”

“It’s our song.”

“Can I help?”

“Help me out.”

“Please, for me?”

“Anything for you.”

“I doubt it.”

“I believe you.”

[northernhounds]

just a post to remind people that this blog follows back from princesircastic - so if you’re wondering who that is that just followed you, it’s me!

[northernhounds]

                                We are the hounds of the north                                                                   now                                                                          hear us howl

[northernhounds]

ruthlessresolution ---> northernhounds

after some serious thinking, I have decided to make some pretty big changes to this blog, biggest of all being a change in muses. Ramsay has always been the loudest (and most active), so he’s sticking around - but now he will be joined only by a brand new muse: Robb Stark. 

but what of my other muses, you might ask? well, fear not! Jaime and Rhaegar will now feature instead on my new multi-multi! if we have threads that you would like to transfer across to the new blog, just let me know and I’ll make sure that happens. otherwise, consider all drafts for Jaime and Rhaegar dropped - we can always start new things!! something to note, however: Jaime is request only, so you must let me know if you still want to interact with him. I won’t carry over his drafts automatically.

as for Joffrey, alas he is now a dead muse (no poison this time, though). I’d already made the decision to drop him as a muse long before now, and I was actually in the process of revamping the blog to show this before deciding to move the muses around instead. I loved writing for him and exploring his character, but I never had the same muse for him as I did the others, and I’d rather do him proper justice as a muse, or not at all. needless to say, any threads I had with Joff are now dropped. sorry.

I did also go through the drafts during the revamping process, and dropped a lot from inactive blogs. however, if you come back to your blog and want to continue our threads, just let me know, and if possible toss me a link to the last post so I can find it again. I won’t be deleting old posts in this revamp, so everything will be in the archive somewhere if I need to hunt something down.

I’ve updated the rules and pages to reflect the new muse line-up, and obviously the url has changed to a better fit for my northern boys. I’m hoping to get back into writing here, so this revamp is a good place to start!

[northernhounds]

tag drop

Robb verses

[northernhounds]

tag drop

characters & relationships

[northernhounds]

okay just fyi, bc this happens the most on this blog and this is, currently, one of my least active blogs (and will continue to be for at least the next 5ish days)

repeatedly following & unfollowing will not get my attention the way you want it to. in fact, it gets very annoying, very fast. 

as this is a sideblog to a blog for a different fandom, I am very selective with who I follow back, and I almost never follow back immediately unless it’s a blog I really want to interact with. there is a reason I am not mutuals only. I do not have to follow someone to want to interact with them. 

if you want to interact with me/have an idea you’d like to discuss, please just drop by the IMs or the inbox. do not repeatedly follow & unfollow in the hope that I’ll notice you and follow back, because I won’t. I’m actually more likely to completely ignore you if you use this tactic.