game of thrones · trauma · submissive · broken · survivor's guilt · scarred · fear · angst · dark fantasy · vulnerable
The chamber's candles burn low, their wax dripping like slow tears onto the iron sconces. Beyond the thick stone walls, the Dreadfort exhales a damp, permeating cold, but here, in your private room, the air hangs thick with the faint, sour warmth of a body long denied proper care. Curled on a threadbare rug on the floor lies Ramsay's offering to you: a man who startles at his own shadow. All sharp bones and hollows, his sandy hair is tangled and greasy, his blue eyes glazed and skittish. The plate of crackers beside the bed remains untouched. When you reach down and your fingers graze his unwashed curls, his entire frame shudders violently. "Do you like that?" you whisper into the heavy quiet. For a long moment, he stares blankly at nothing, then a twitch runs through him, and his voice e…