Hey guys so my friend pointed out to me that @guillaummevaux was reblogging trans and nonbinary stuff (art and posts) with rude comments, so if everyone could reblog this n’ inform your trans and enby buddies, and especially your art pals to block this gross person, I’m sure everyone would appreciate it and benefit from one less ignorant bigot on positivity posts.
Five years has passed, since you gave birth. Erik is always beside you, wherever you go. You were always protective of him, always holding his hand whenever you have the chance. The morning was sunny, and the air warm. You walked through Winterfell and people greeted you as you walked by.
“Your Grace.” a young boy greeted, “Hello, Erik.”
You crouched down and mussed his hair. “Good day to you, David.”
Your son tugged your hand and you looked at him. “Mother, may I please play with him?”
You looked at them both and gave a smile. “Yes, play where I can see you.”
They both ran to the center, with the muddy ground and started to throw balls of mud to each other, painting them brown and squalid. You walked on further, people greeting and you acknowledging them. You helped some of them and talked to some. They offered you food, and you graciously accepted. You went on to walk and the kids’ laughter filled the castle as the other children gathered to play and enjoy the morning.
You entered the dark Great Hall quietly and sat the corner of the room to listen to the men talk. Jon was hailed King in the North, and he leads them now. They talked about further plans to help each other and prepare each other for the upcoming battles. They finished as the men went on and eat to break their fast. You caught a glimpse of Jon and he looked back at you. He offered you a nod, his face covered with seriousness.
It’s been years since you and Jon had a decent conversation. He’s always talking to his men, to Tormund, to Ser Davos and everybody. You walked to him quickly to catch up with him. You stood in front of him as you two were the only people left. You fixed his leather and his hair. “Isn’t too early to talk about battles?”
“It’s work,” he said. “I need to catch up, with them.”
He kissed you softly on the side of your face and went to walk with the other men. You were left standing alone in the Great Hall. You let out a few tears, you don’t know why Jon always acts so cold towards you. You haven’t done anything wrong. It hurts you but it’s going for years and both of you still haven’t talked about it.
Night came, and supper was placed in the Hall. You were seated above the platform beside Jon, Erik and some few advisors. Erik was playing with Ghost underneath Jon and his laughs get louder and louder as he played with Ghost. Jon was talking to Ser Davos and clearly he was irritated by Erik. You tried to tame Erik but he wasn’t listening.
Jon looked at you and pointed to the boy, “Get him out of here. His making a lot of noise,” he said sharply.
You were shocked by how he spoke. “He’s just a boy, he’s playing with Ghost.”
The laughter died down when your son called out to him. “Father,” Erik said.
Jon turned his head and faced your boy, “What?,” he said harshly.
You placed a hand on Jon’s arm and he quickly flicked it off. “He’s just a boy, what’s the matter with you?”
“Get him out of here.”
You turned to him and stared at him fiercely. Your voice louder than the crowd. “What’s the matter with you?”
Jon turned his voice into a hush. “I don’t want to make a scene.”
You hushed your voice too and you spoke to him sharply. “Make a scene? You’re always making a scene with me, whenever I’m near you, you act like we’re not husband and wife,” you started. “You always, always dismiss me.”
You stood up and forcedly threw your napkin on the table. You asked Erik to follow you and you both went to go to your chambers. You tucked Erik in and you went on to your own chambers. You locked the door and stripped off your clothes to calm yourself down as you submerged into the tub of water. You closed your eyes and dreamed of the day when Jon was so happy about you and your baby.
A loud knock echoed through the room and you quickly put on fresh clothes and opened the door. Jon was standing there, his face painted expressionless. You refused to let him in, “I’m going to sleep.” You turned to close the door, but he stopped it and he entered.
“Let’s talk,” he started as he stood in the middle of the room. “Let’s talk.”
You closed the door with a bang and sat down on the chair. You gave him a smile. “Now you want to talk,” you said sarcastically. “Let’s talk.”
He paced the room, looking away from you. He stopped and he sighed in annoyance. “I despise him,” his voice filled with resentment. “I hate him.”
You stood up and you looked at him coldly. “Erik?,” you asked, “You hate the kid?”
He looked at you directly. “Yes!”
You were in awe, of what he said. “You hate Erik?,” your voice getting louder and louder. “You hate our child?”
“That is not my child!,” he screamed. “Not mine.”
“You promised you will love him,” you screamed. “And accept him!”
He looked at you incredulously, “Look at him! How can I look at my son, your son, when he looks like that bastard who killed my brother? Raped my sister? Took my home from my family?” He was shaking with anger, “That is not my kid.”
“Your house isn’t the only thing he ruined, Jon. Where were you when he raped me? When he used me every night?” you yelled. “You promised me.”
He looked at you and whispered dangerously. “That is not mine. That’s Ramsay’s. That boy will never be mine.”
You slapped him, “You promised me! You’ll love and accept him, like he was yours.”
“Aye!” he screamed. “I did accept him. But I will never love him.”
He walked towards you slowly, taunting you as he declared again. “That is not mine. Never going to be mine. I loathe him.”
He gave you a good look, your eyes tearing up. He walked to the door and slammed the door as he left. You cried softly, biting your lip to not wail loudly. Hatred clouded your mind, with what Jon said. He left you all alone again, and his resentment towards your son clouded the room. His words pierced through your heart and you cannot believe what he said. But it’s just another day, he’ll forever hate your son and you just have to accept it even if it pains you.
thank u so much for reading!!!!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡
requests are closed for now, and maybe open next week or this weekend ♡♡
Imagine being the legitimate daughter to Roose Bolton and half sister to Ramsay, and after the deaths of Roose, Walder, and the baby, Ramsay tells you that he owns you and no other man will ever have you.
Word Count: 808
((Anon asked for, I hope you like it. I know it’s not very long, at least not as long as my other susually are but…the request was kind of vague and I wasn’t too sure what all to include. I hope you like it either way))
Imagine: Being a Time Traveler and going back in time, taking a baby Ramsay away from his mother and giving him over to the Stark family, where he grows up to become a humble, kind man and the best friend of Robb and Jon