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fourcornersarizona · 1 year

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Truth Serum: Do you ever regret your life styles? (For all three)

The three friends exchanged glances for a moment, a series of emotions playing over their faces in rapid succession, as if it was a private conversation meant for them only. Inez is the first one to break the silence, laughing as she pushes her thick hair away from her face. “No, I cannot say I do—however shocked my poor mother and abuela might be to hear me say that. Given were I started from, I think I am doing rather well for myself—I have my own business now and I’m no longer at the beck and call of others. Also, I no longer have to endure unwanted advances simply because it is the Don’s son making them. If I don’t like how a man is behaving then,” she slapped her palms together for emphasis, “Pow—out the door!” “And if’n he won’t listen to her, I’m always happy to help.” Vin added with a quiet smile, leaning back in his seat until it balances on its back legs. Inez flashed a smile in the bounty hunter’s direction, giving Mary a spot she could slide in. “I cannot say I do either. Maybe I would be richer if I had returned to Pennsylvania after my husband died, and rejoined my family, but I dare say I would not be happier. Out here in the west, there is an energy and a passion that has faded from the east. That is why all of the innovators are coming this way—in a few decades, we will be rivaling the east in all ways imaginable….and even surpassing them on issues like rights for women! Wyoming Territory is already allowing women to vote, and they are trying to achieve the same in the Washington Territory!” Mary paused to catch her breathe before speeding along. “If I had returned East, I would be another woman sitting at home and trying to catch a husband. Out here, I can reach for a higher calling then just looking dainty—and I can raise my son at the same time! The Clarion is well-respected, and I am a respected editor. Not a respected woman editor, but a respected editor.” She emphasized the last word. “So no, I cannot say I regret my lifestyle for a moment.” “I reckon that just leaves me.” Vin commented as Mary’s speech drew to its triumphant close, “And I can’t say I regret mine either. It’s the only one I’ve ever known anyways so… what’s there to regret?” “Well… I think getting the bounty might be something worth regretting.” Inez sympathetically pointed out. Vin shrugged lightly, his hands never leaving his belt. “That is true…” he admitted, “But I’d still live pretty much the same way whether I was wanted or not. I’d just be free to go back into Texas again when my road turned that way instead’a having to cut off at the border. But a man can live with that… ain’t the end of the world.” He paused before adding somewhat shyly. “‘Sides, all in all, it’s a pretty good life. I got my horse, I got a decent wagon to sleep in, sunrises are real pretty on this side of the world, and there’s aways something new to ride towards or work on. What else could a feller want? Can’t take money and fancy houses or stuff with you when you go, so why waste time collecting it?” Setting his chair down on the floor with a thump, he ducks his head bashfully and goes to pull his hat into place. “I oughta be going…” Inez placed a hand on his arm to stall him. “Both of you should stay—I almost have dinner ready down in the kitchen.” Mary backed her friend up, intent on keeping the shy bounty hunter from running away after his speech. “And Inez lets Billy come in the back door so he can eat his supper in the kitchen… and I suppose we should be heading down there. I’m sure he’s outside waiting.” Inez made another gesture, seeming to sweep her friends up in it as she steers them toward the green curtain that separates the saloon from the backrooms. “Come on—there’s no point in hanging around here now that we’ve had that discussion, especially since the saloon will not be open for a bit yet.” A few minutes later the footsteps and voices disappear into the backrooms, leaving the saloon temporarily empty and quiet. In a few hours it will fill up again. For now, everything is settled and comfortably still.

#Muse: Inez Recillos #Muse: Vin Tanner #Muse: Mary Travis

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firstladyofslytherin · 4 years

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when the party’s over → solo.

when → late in the evening after the last night of detention. where → santana’s bedroom. warnings → n/a

Santana Lopez was a woman on a mission; inform her parents of her decision, dump the dick, get the good guy, live happily ever after. Easy done, right? One letter written after she returned to the castle after their trip to Hogsmeade. But she didn’t send it then. She left it, hidden in a secret place in her bedroom, somewhere only she could or would find it. She wanted to wait, to enjoy her last week of detention. To enjoy these final, fleeting moments spent in the trophy room before she imploded her entire life as she knew it. She needed to know it was real, needed to know it was worth it. That he was worth it. And he was. That night, before dinner, she left her final afternoon class with the letter tucked away in her inside pocket next to her wand, instead of going the great hall, she took a detour to the owlery. She didn’t hesitate as she handed the letter to Gideon and sent him home with it.

Her words were strong and left absolutely no room for discussion. She wanted out, she needed out. She needed to have the chance to find love, to fall in love with someone of her choosing, that she loathed Sebastian and how he treated her. It was filled with begging and pleading. She had called on their love; her Mother and Father had met and fallen in love, so why shouldn't she get the same chance? Why should anything rest on her shoulders? What even was the legacy she was supposed to carry?

When Santana arrived back in her bedroom late that night, she was surprised to find her small owl sleeping on the window sill, a letter clutched in his claws. She instantly knew that it wasn’t good news. If it had taken longer, she would know that they at least had discussed the idea properly and taken it into consideration. It wouldn’t surprise her if they already had a pre-written draft of this exact letter somewhere in her Father’s writing desk. She gently broke the wax seal, loathing the shade of deep green they always used to seal it, the latin words of her family stamped in tiny letters underneath the badge. God, she hated it.

Her eyes glanced over the words written on the parchment, her Mothers strong and feminine handwriting staring back at her. It was a resounding no. Her Mother wrote it but it was her Fathers words and her Grandparents influence that spoke clearly.

Our darling little dove,

Whilst we aren't surprised to eventually receive this letter from you, we're none the less saddened by its contents. How is school? Detention is almost finished yes? One more incident like that and we may have to consider taking away our permission for you to play quidditch. You know better than to fight, with your wand or with your hands. We were also informed that the Triwizard tournament is also almost upon Hogwarts once more, we're praying that your latest foray into disrespect won't extend to that as well. Professor Zabini informed us that you've also taken another extra curricular? A singing club? Is that truly sensible with your class load, duelling and quidditch? These are important school years for you, Santana, we need you to focus on that first and foremost.

Mija, your relationship with the Smythe boy, it’s tradition. If we break away from tradition, then what do we have to base anything on? What honour do the Lopez family have if we so easily stray from something that we have always held so very dear to our hearts? We can't risk this just because you have a differing feeling about something. Sebastian is a nice boy, yes? He's always been kind and decent to you, hasn't he? Has he ever mistreated you? As far as we've seen, he's as hot headed and sharp tongued as you. You need a man like that to take care of you. Our families go back generations, long before either of us were even a consideration. You're a Lopez, before all and anything else. You are part of a legacy that spans many years. You're sixteen years old, you will fall in love one hundred more times before your eighteenth birthday.

We have always let you guide your own path, within reason. We want you to be happy more than anything in this life or the next. But you're in a position where doing the best thing isn't always the right thing. We will never force you to do anything or involve you in anything that you are vehemently against. We love you and we will always support you but we're asking for your consideration. Please consider everything that we've written. Please consider the ramifications that will come with straying from our path. Please consider your position on this. For your Father and I. We must all do our duty, Mija. Please, do yours.

Please write again soon, and please write to your Abuela and Abuelo too. They miss you and also only want the best for you.

Love always, Mama and Papa.

She hadn’t realised that she was crying until she noticed the ink beginning to smear at the end of the letter from the tears that had fallen on the page. How could they ask this of her? Tell her that they loved and supported her when clearly, they needed her to sit still and look pretty, to grit her teeth and just exist instead of actually living.

The life that she could have had with Mike had almost instantly gone up in smoke. That carefree vision of red and green coming together, flying trips to god knows where on their brooms, dancing together at parties, trips to Hogsmeade where they would split off from the group and snog in the back of the three broomsticks beside the fireplace. Every sweet and tender kiss he’d placed all over her skin, his comforting yet so needed words in her ear, they were disappearing too quickly for her to grasp on to. Just... gone.

They had made her choice and she had no other one than to accept. Tradition was important, it kept the bloodline pure, it kept order in the world. She hadn’t realised until the letter, that her parents would have once been in her position. She always admired their love, their relationship. But it was a lie, wasn’t it? They had been pushed together as teenagers and it only worked out because her Father was decent and kind. They had managed to make it work and have a child. Or maybe, they just stayed together because that's what was done. She simply didn’t know anymore.

She sniffed a little and dried her eyes on her sleeve, grateful that the other girls could sleep through an explosion. She needed her privacy, needed to let the hurt take over. She drew the curtains around her bed and curled up on her side, the letter still grasped tightly between her fingers. If this felt difficult, then tomorrow would be downright excruciating. No more carefree behaviour. No more sneaking around. She hadn’t been the perfect girlfriend and she certainly hadn’t been playing by the rules. She had gotten detention for a whole month, ditching her boyfriend, fraternising with the enemy. Not to mention kissing and almost fucking the enemy, that was most likely frowned upon. It just wasn't what good girls did; it wasn’t what Lopez’s did.

The show must go on.

#solo.#when the party's over.#bleh.

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kee-writestrashh · 5 years

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Guns for Hire

Ramsay Bolton x Reader

ao3

Summary: You are the wife to the Heir of the Red Kings, Ramsay Bolton. living the undercover life of a mob wife has its perks, and you love your husband. But you find out something that seems to unfold a series of unwanted events…

**self-mutilation mention

Chapter 50: Beautiful Day

Ramsay rose from his chair as you finished eating. He pulled out your chair and offered his hand to you with a wide smile.

You offered your own small smile and took his hand. His hand was warm. It was comfortable, as your fingers were cold. It was cold in this dining room.

"I thought you mighta grown tired of your boring company and could use a bath before bed." He said, leading you up the stairs to his room. "And I hope you don't mind sleeping in this room tonight. I'm having the master bedroom redone tomorrow for us."

"This is fine, baby." You said quietly. As if you were going to say 'no'. Ha.

"Why are you so quiet? I thought you would be excited? The Dreadfort is finally ours. Little Damon is far enough out of the city now where he can hunt and fish and all those others things you miss. I did this for you, baby girl." Ramsay said, his smile faltering slightly as you both entered the room.

"Oh, baby, don't think I'm not excited! I am so excited! I'm just tired. You kinda forced a lot on my body today... and it's made me very tired." You said. It was half true. But you were also in shock and... angry with your husband for subjecting you to possible harm and deep humiliation.

"You don't have to get out of bed tomorrow if you don't want." He said gently, leading you through the door to the bathroom.

"Will you stay in bed all day with me?" You asked as you let him undress you, realizing you were shaking slightly.

"I'm afraid I cannot. It will be a busy day. I'll have press conferences, and building plans to set up, and a million other things now that I am the Bolton in charge. Weapons business, Red Kings, Bastard's Boys. I've got my hands full tomorrow." He said, stepping away from you to turn the shower on.

"What did you do with your father?"

"Oh, he's still alive. For now. And nobody needs to know that. You're good at keeping secrets... so keep that to yourself. Now, shower and crawl in bed. I will be with you shortly." He said, kissing your forehead and leaving, the door snapping sharply behind him.

You were curled up under the blankets, rubbing your belly, and humming a lullabye, when Ramsay came in. He said nothing as he crossed the room to the bathroom door, closing it quietly.

You laid there listening to him sing in the shower and smiled as you continued to rub your belly until your son must have finally fallen asleep and quit moving around like a wild child.

Ramsay crawled into bed a few minutes later and pulled you in as close as he could. Your back pressed flush to his chest. He kissed along the nape of your neck, and ran his hand along your thigh. A deep warmth and wet spreading between your legs as you longed for him and his soft touches.

"Do you have any idea how perfect you were today, my queen?" He purred, pushing himself up on his elbow to lean forward to kiss and bite at your neck and jaw.

"No. But I am glad to have pleased you, daddy." You replied, closing your eyes tight and shifting slightly to lay more on your back.

"I keep falling further in love with you. It's making me stupid." He hummed, sliding his hand between your legs.

"I'm sorry I've upset you and hurt you, baby." You said with a small sigh, relaxing into his touch.

He made a small noise but said nothing as he traced his fingers over your folds and pressed his body firmer against you.

"You tasted different today, why?" He asked, as if you had a reason.

"Um, I dunno baby? Maybe it's just because it's been a few days?" You replied, shifting your head so you could kiss him.

"Well then come sit on my face. You haven't sat on my face in months." He purred, pushing away from you to lay on his back.

"But I'm fat and heavy now. I don't wanna suffocate you." You giggled, rolling over and straddling him.

"Suffocate away, baby girl." He smirked, looking up at you through a primal glare.

You gave a grin, climbing up his body, and positioning yourself, grabbing onto the headboard to distribute your weight evenly on your knees.

He made a deep noise of longing as he buried his face between your legs. You drew a tiny gasp as he slid his tongue inside you and grabbed onto your thighs with a tight grip that would likely leave bruises.

He hummed in pleasure as he pulled you closer into him with one hand, letting his other hand wander your body, until he cupped one of your breasts, taking your nipple between thumb and forefinger.

You moaned, dropping a hand from the headboard to tangle in his damp hair, pulling slightly.

He bit, lapped, and sucked harder, the harder you pulled at his hair. The hot desire at your core reaching boiling point.

"Daddy." You panted, pulling his hair harder, struggling to breath.

He gave your thigh a nudge and you climbed off. He pushed himself up, grabbing your leg and placing your knee against his chest as he buried himself inside you.

You drew a sharp gasp, clawing at his arm, as he thrust harder. You dug your nails into his arm, feeling him shake as he held himself up.

You pushed your head back into the mattress with a loud moan.

"Louder." He panted, thrusting harder.

You gripped his arm harder and pushed your hips into him as hard you could, moaning and gasping loudly.

"Harder daddy!" you cried.

You found a sloppy rhythm with him and felt the warmth of your high forming.

He let deep noises escape him, and ploughed into you without relent until his breathing was so heavy he had to gasp for air.

You quaked and your whole body went weak as your high hit you from nowhere it seemed as he pushed his whole weight into you.

You screamed out as you never had before, your whole body tingling and shaking.

He roared in ecstasy as he felt your high hit you, his grip on your leg painful as he held himself steady, trying to keep himself from falling into you, as your belly was now too round to lay on completely.

Both of you were still, drawing shaky, wheezy kinds of gasps. He leaned forward, placing his lips between your breasts and inhaling deeply.

"I love the way you smell." he whispered, placing a gentle kiss to your skin as he pulled away from you.

You lay there, watching him clean himself.

"You smell better." You said with a small smile.

"No. Together we smell... Oh baby girl, I love the smell of our fuck. If I could bottle this smell." He said, inhaling deeply again, wiping his brow on his arm and falling into the bed.

Slowly you sat up, pulling your hair into a loose braid and taking the discarded shirt he held out to you, "and what would you call it?"

He stared up at the celiling, thinking.

"Eden." he said after a few moments.

You gave a warm smile, "Eden." you repeated, crawling under the blanket.

×××

"Alright, doll. I'm out of here. I will try to be home for dinner, but Ben has already informed me I have multiple interviews and conferences set up about the fire yesterday and becoming the new owner of our business. If you need anything, the help are at your command." Ramsay said, fixing his tie clip and leaning in to kiss you.

"Of course baby." You hummed, kissing him back. You gave him a quick glance over as he pulled away. "Oop. Wait a second, baby." You said, grabbing his tie, pulling him closer to you, and sweeping his hair to the side. "Now you look like a sexy murder king."

He gave you a smirk and a wink. He gave you a quick air kiss before closing the door behind him. You sat up looked around, finding the suitcase of clothes you had packed the night before last on the floor, along with your purse.

You dressed slowly, opening the bathroom window. It was warm today and the sky was a brilliant forget me not blue. A perfect day. Maybe you would take breakfast on the patio and enjoy the fresh and warm sun for the day. You had nothing else to do.

You picked up your phone from your purse, left the room, and headed straight to the patio.

"Breakfast, ma'am?" A woman asked.

"Just a bowl of oatmeal is fine." You said, glancing down at your phone. No new calls or texts. Seems word hadn't gotten out yet. For that you were thankful. You were too tired to deal with nosey, worried family this morning.

You sat, basking in the sun, half dozing when little arms encased you. You peeked your eye open to see Kaden.

"Aunt (y/n)!" He beamed.

He released you and you sat up straight, smiling at him. You set your magazine aside and pulled him in for a hug.

"Hey, trouble. Why are you here?" You asked, pressing your finger to the tip of his nose.

"Looks like we are to be roomies." A female voice behind you said.

You turned quickly to see Liz. You practically cried in excitement, rising as quickly from your seat as your pregnant belly would let you, hugging Liz tight.

"Look at you!" You smiled, pulling away from her.

"And you. Look at this belly!" She laughed, placing her hand on your belly.

You took Liz in. She had lost so much weight. It made you sad. Ben always talked so much about her curves and "that ass". She had paled, and her eyes looked tired. But she wore a bright smile, as she slid her sunglasses to sit on the bandanna she wore to cover her head.

"I'm tired of this belly. Is it June yet?" You laughed, "but you, how are you?"

"I'm starting to feel better. Now that the cold is leaving and I've spent time in the sun I feel much better. I'll be done with chemo end of next month." Liz shrugged.

An aged, severe looking woman stopped behind Liz. This must have been the hateful mother in law Ben complained about.

"(Y/n), this is my mother, Carmen." Liz said, nodding at her mother.

"Abuela is funny. She likes to make daddy mad." Kaden giggled behind his hand.

"Well, someone needs to keep him check." Carmen said.

"Oh my God! You speak English?!" You cackled, covering your mouth with a hand.

"Mhm. For thirty years now." The old woman hummed, examining you closely, "What is your ailment?"

"Mother is very blunt." Liz said in an undertone as Carmen stepped forward and looked at you through beady eyes.

"Boys. Always harder on the body. Come on child, I will have you fattened up in no time." She tutted, grabbing your hand and pulling you along.

You wondered how Ramsay would react to this woman. That would be fun.

"Kaden, stay away from that pool or I will have your daddy get you." Liz called to Kaden who was running rampant in the yard with Moose and his puppy, Boss.

"Yes mama!"

"Kitchen?" Carmen asked, glancing around.

"Allow me." You said, taking the lead and pushing through a door at the end of the hall.

"Sit. Sit." Carmen demanded, walking straight past you to the pantry.

You sat at the bar, tapping your nails on the counter, as Liz took a seat beside you.

"So you're moving in, huh?" You asked.

"Apparently so. Ben says all the Boys are. Until Ramsay is sure he has control of the reins and can be sure they are all safe." Liz nodded.

"Well, I am glad I won't have to be alone in this empty house. But uh..." You said.

"Everything has been thoroughly cleaned. Ben told me this morning before we left." Liz cut across you as if reading your mind.

You gave a tiny sigh of relief. The last thing you wanted was for Kaden to see such a brutal murder scene. You hadn't checked. Even though this was now your house, you didn't want to snoop. Mostly afraid of making Ramsay mad.

"This is like the most amazing thing I have ever eaten!" You exclaimed, tearing into the food Carmen set before you.

Liz and Carmen laughed at you, but you didn't even care.

"So, Damon, huh?" Liz finally said after you set your fork down.

"Yeah. Damon Cain. I respect it. And maybe it will help Rams cope." You said, glancing down at your belly.

"Ironic." Carmen chimed in.

"Huh?" You asked, looking up at the woman.

"Damon. It means gentle. To tame. You know, Damon and Pythias?" She said.

You stared at her, not understanding.

"Google it."

You laughed, "yes ma'am."

×××

"Dude, you killed him." Ben said, straightening a stack of papers.

Ramsay groaned, resting his head on the smooth surface of the dining room table with a small thud, "What about the guy under him?"

You walked over, quietly, running a nail gently up the back of Ramsay's neck before running your nails over his scalp.

"Yeah, you killed him too." Ben said, biting back a grin.

Ramsay picked his head up and glared at Ben, "think it's funny, do ya?"

Ben gave an innocent shrug and laughed, "a bit. I mean... yeah. It's fucking funny."

Ramsay wrapped his arm around your waist and you sat in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"What's wrong baby?" You asked, with a small pout.

"It would seem I have killed all the men responsible for passcodes, files, money management, and stupid tedious fucking things I need to get shit straight. And my hacker is a dumbass, and father was old fashioned." Ramsay sighed, burying his face between your breasts and inhaling deeply.

"There is plenty of time for that, baby. Take a breather. You work too much. Take the evening off. You've been working hard all day, with no play." You said, turning in his lap to straddle him, grabbing his tie and tightening it, until he made a noise of discomfort.

"As amazing as that sounds, I still have a shit ton of work to do. I have a meeting with Matt in ten." He mumbled into your cleavage, pulling your hand away, to loosen his tie some.

"I can make it quick." You whispered in his ear, taking his earlobe between your teeth.

"I don't want it to be quick." He smirked, pulling away from you to turn his attention back to Ben, "find me someone by tomorrow afternoon."

"Yes sir." Ben said, glancing down at the papers with a small frown.

"Master Ramsay, Matt is here to speak with you." An older woman said in the doorway.

"Tell him to meet me in the garage." Ramsay said, sliding you from his lap. He gave you a quick kiss and left you alone with Ben.

You sat in the empty chair, "so?"

"Damon was a hell of a man to keep up with Ramsay the way he did. Made it look so easy. Ramsay put him through shit. Dame left some big shoes to fill." Ben admitted, dropping the papers and undoing his tie.

"It'll get easier. Damon had many years to get it right." You said, offering an encouraging smile. "You should go help Liz finish settling in. I'll take Ramsay from here."

"Yes ma'am." Ben said, rising from his seat and leaving you alone in the room.

You wandered the house for awhile, running into Kaden, Moose, and, Boss.

"Don't break anything, hon! Uncle Ramsay might get you!" You called after the giggling boy.

"Yes ma'am!" Kaden shouted gleefully.

You entered the master bedroom. It was as elegant as it was big, but nothing compared to the bathroom. You fell into the mattress with a sigh. You stared up at the canopy for awhile, wondering what Ramsay had planned for his father. But you were too afraid to ask.

"What do you think, mister Damon? Think we will like it here?" You said, placing your hand on your belly, feeling your son move.

"Where is your daddy? What could he possibly be doing with Matt for an hour?" You said, getting up.

You passed a maid in the hall, "have you seen my husband?"

"No, ma'am." She said with an apologetic look.

You continued through the house, finally coming to the garage. You opened the door, always slightly taken aback by the collection of classic cars. You gave a sweeping glance across the room and spotted it.

You walked over to the '57 Bel Air and gave a knock on the window. Slowly, the window rolled down and the thick smoke rolled out the window. Ramsay stuck his head out, looking surprised to see you.

"Yes, doll?" He said, with a very stoned grin.

"What are you doing?" You asked, crossing your arms.

"Talking business with the Kid. Helping him set up the newest generation of the Bastard's Boys." Ramsay shrugged.

"Well, y'alls stoned asses should come grab some munchies. I miss you."

"Alright. I have dogs to feed anyways." Ramsay hummed, opening the door and standing with a stretch.

"What day is it? Wait... I mean time?" Matt asked looking lost and stupid.

"Seven." You replied, watching him attempt to light his cigarette but simply staring at his lighter.

Ramsay pulled his lighter and lit the cigarette. He laced his hand in yours and led you from the garage, flipping the switch, making Matt scream.

"Oh, my bad." Ramsay chuckled, flipping the switch and ushering you down the hall. "Netflix and chill?"

"It's my turn to pick." You said, holding his hand tight.

"Bleh. Fine. I'll be up in a bit." He said, kissing your cheek and dropping your hand.

You slipped into a bathrobe, laying on your bed, waiting on Ramsay. But after 45 minutes you started to worry. With a gut feeling, you walked to the cellar where you had been deposited yesterday with Roose and Walda.

You closed the door quietly, leaning against the door and taking in the scene.

Ramsay sat on the floor, picking at his nails with a knife, as he rested his elbows on his knees, cigarette hanging from his lips. He had shed his shirt and you noted his arms must be covered in his own blood as Roose was blood free, chained to his chair, looking almost bored.

"Why, father?" Ramsay murmured through his cigarette.

"Why what, Ramsay?" Roose asked with a sigh, glancing over at you.

"Why do you hate me? What did I ever do?" Ramsay said, rising slowly from the floor.

"I don't hate you, son." Roose said, again adopting his fatherly tone.

Ramsay brandished the knife at his father, "stop lying to me! You hate me and I don't understand. I was five! I looked up to you. Even after you hurt me for no fucking reason. What did I do to deserve that?"

"Nothing. You did nothing to warrant the things I did to you, Ramsay." Roose said, sounding apologetic but wearing an indifferent look.

Ramsay ran a bloody hand over his face, through his hair, and made a distressed noise.

"Remember the first time you hit me? How I screamed like a fucking beat dog? Remember how I cried and begged for you to stop?" Ramsay said with a bitter laugh and a very strangled voice.

You watched Ramsay, chewing your lip. It was almost like you could feel his pain and anger.

"Ramsay, I was drunk." Roose said. Again with the bullshit apologetic tone.

It made you angry. It made you want to take the knife from Ramsay and stab Roose in the neck.

"I hurt my wife once when I was drunk. And all I could see in that moment was the way you looked at me and how you beat me with that damn switch until I bled. How Dom just stood there watching. I couldn't fucking look at her for two days after that. It fucked me up. But I couldn't stop. Not until I had got off. Why? Why did that hurt me?" Ramsay said, back turned completely from you.

"I don't know, son. But, for what it's worth, I am sorry." Roose said, looking at Ramsay in distaste and pity.

"Sorry." Ramsay laughed, staring down at the floor. "What a stupid fucking word. I'm not. I'm not sorry for what I've been through. Because it scares you. You turned me into a fucking monster. And it was fine until you couldn't control me any longer. Molded me into this murder machine you could use to threaten others. Why did you make me kill my mother?"

Roose fixed Ramsay with a long look, ignoring your murderous glare.

"I loved your mother, son. Miller, he was my right hand for many years. He knew how in love I was with Emma. But he stole her away from me after I married Bethany. They were happy. It drove me crazy for years, into madness. So I killed him and took Emma as my mistress. She hated me for what I did. But there was no way for her to get out. And then she had you. You looked just like her. Love is a sour thing, Ramsay. It will kill you. Look at your wife," Roose shot you a venomous look, "she's already kept secrets from you. What else is she doing?"

You stood there dumbfounded. You weren't even sure what to think. Blindly, you opened the door and left as quickly as you could, running until you were leaning against the heavy door of your dark bedroom.

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