#ft. ghost

[vihrago-a]

∗ 16﹕ a  flirtatious  text

[ sms ] —> EL FANTASMA : you were right when you said you weren’t ugly beneath the mask.

[ sms ] —> EL FANTASMA : think it would look even better in other places too :)

@lt-ghxst

[bloodsoaked-rainbows]

Trick or treat???

Treat for you!!

Not entirely sure what ghosts eat, so I just found a collection of cute animals instead ;)

Have a wonderful Halloween!!!

(If anybody else wants to go Tumblr Trick-or-Treating, here are the instructions!)

[louhetar]

*throws fluff at people*

[jonsa-creatives]

Wishing our beloved followers a very prosperous and Happy Lunar New Year!

2018 - Year of the Earth Dog

Dog year is a time of fairness and equality. Controversial issues are given their due, revolutions are successful, politics are liberal, and political oppression is opposed. Integrity and honesty are the values that lead to success under Dog’s watchful and just influence.

The Earth Dog has a responsible character, and he makes his decisions for the collective interest.

Skilled in mediation, the Earth Dog is also pragmatic, calm and serene. Gentler in approach than his fellow Dogs, his flair and his insight are very developed. Always cautious and alert, sometimes undecided, the Earth Dog doesn’t lose his biting skills when he feels threatened or betrayed by someone he had previously gratified of his friendship.

What Year were you born in? Check out the fun chart below!

(*source)

We hope the Year of the Dog brings you good fortune, health and lots of love and joy!

If you’re interested in 2018 predictions, you may find out here (just click on your animal year based on the chart wheel above).

 Do remember, it’s all in the name of fun and don’t take it too seriously!

Lots of hugs and love,

~ Mods Elle & Amy

[kittensjonsa]

For Me

Prompt: “Take care of her. Watch over her. For me.” - Jon by Brian Cogman (thanks bruh). 

Canon compliant/divergent. G

The leather straps that bound across his chest seemed to grasp a little too tight than usual. His breathing seemed a little more laborious and his boots a little too heavy in taking their steps.

I don’t want to leave.

Jon looked around him tentatively, letting his eyes linger about the grounds of Winterfell, committing all to memory. Crumbling or not, this was still home. It was a part of him and he had declared it true for all of the North to hear. If those were his last words as the King in the North, then so be it. There was nowhere he’d rather be. It was a certain truth that sang with his every heartbeat.

I don’t want to leave.

Repeating the words won’t matter now. What he wanted and what was good for mankind sat heavily in his heart. Saving all of Westeros from death’s cruel enslavement far outweighed whatever his heart desired. He did after all had taken an oath, and one not too lightly - the shield that guards the realm of men. Not even death can hold him back. He would be fighting against death itself whilst staring straight into his dead and icy blue eyes. He’d rather be staring into another’s, if he could have his way.

Blue eyes. Her looking at me with her beautiful blue eyes. I will miss that. Jon admitted with a tinge of regret.

Jon took a deep breath and sighed. It wasn’t wise at all now, thinking back how he held Littlefinger by the neck at the mere mention of her name. He had wished to do far worse and having his fingers already pressing down on the fine skinned neck of Lord Baelish had made it too easy - only if the Vale wasn’t marching along side him, an army he needed for the Great War. Jon had given himself away too much now, it would be best to stop and perhaps take a step away from it all and focus on the task at hand.

Out of sight, out of mind. He could try.

“Do you have to?”

Jon glanced up from the map he had been studying the past hour.

“Aye. It’s what we need. The South can’t help us, we can’t do this alone,” he sighed and put down the direwolf figure he had been holding onto.

“But we just got back our home. And now you want to go?” Sansa asked quietly, the quiver in her voice nearly sending tears to his eyes.

“Sansa, the North will look after you as I’m sure you will look after it. And you will look after it well, while I’m gone. And when I return, it will be as it once was. I promise.”

“It will never be to what it once was, Jon. Not now. Not ever.” Jon watched helplessly as Sansa sighed and make her way to the door. His gaze did not leave her even as she stood still, pausing at the doorway, seemingly hesitant. As she turned to face him, Jon’s breath hitched in his chest as teary ocean blue eyes greeted his. A small upturned corner of her lips belied her grief beneath her courtesies. But still the vision before him very nearly took his breath away.

Gods, that is… beautiful.

“But come back home, Jon Snow. I will be here, waiting for your return. Your Grace,” Sansa finally spoke with a smile, albeit a small tear rolling down her right cheek. Without missing a beat, always a lady, curtseyed and took her leave.

Sensing a familiar presence jolted him out of his reverie, as footsteps and a huff pattered over to him.

“Ghost, there’s a good boy,” Jon greeted his long time companion and gave a little scratch behind the ears. The majestic hound sniffed around him and whined softly, as if he knew. “Now, now, not you too old friend. You know I must go.”

To keep you and everyone I love safe and sound, that’s why.

Ghost looked up at Jon, his red eyes gleaming as if in response, waving his large paws at Jon in seeking Jon’s gloved hands. Jon chuckled, amused at Ghost’s antics, knowing how the direwolf would speak if he could. Jon held the paws in his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, in acknowledgement. “Yes, boy, I will return and we’ll go hunting, you and I.”

It was another promise he intended to keep. But another lingered on his mind and there was no one else he would trust well enough to keep. But Ghost.

Jon searched the grounds around him for Sansa and smiled as he caught sight of her standing at the balcony, next to Brienne both quietly observing the rest of the entourage readying themselves to leave for Dragonstone. Jon inhaled deeply and watched her for as long as whatever the little time he had would allow. It would be a memory that he would cherish. Of home, and perhaps a little something more.

Jon turned back to Ghost, his paws still in his hands. I trust you, old friend.

“Take care of her. Watch over her. For me.”

[ahornedgod]

got drabble - (i cradle in my hands) our brave hearts

a/n: do not be fooled by the word drabble. it is not. this is a 12k+ monster of a oneshot. Sansa goes to King’s Landing AU! as i said before, i know of two other fics that touch on this scenario, did not read them to avoid as many similarities as possible, so let’s see how’d that go lol.

Sansa goes to King’s Landing with one purpose only; things escalate from there.

**

The silence hangs about her solar far longer than Sansa expected. She resists the urge to twiddle her thumbs, as she was wont to do as a child before being the perfect Lady became so important to her, and waits for Arya the let go of the parchment in her hands.

When she does let go, handing it over to Bran, who peruses it thoughtfully, Arya gives her a muted but definitely desperate look.

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “No, I can’t believe it. Jon—Jon would never…”

“Bend the knee?” Bran asks, placidly, handing Sansa the scroll.

“Give away our home to a foreign invader,” Arya bits out. “Ignore all that we’ve suffered to get to where we are now, and trade our freedom, our safety, for three dragons and an army that will most likely freeze to death this far up North!”

Sansa hums in agreement; her eyes following the messy penmanship that she’s grown to know by heart now. Among the confusion, the letter is the strangest thing of these recent developments.

Jon has never been a man of many words, much like Father – much like any Northman. However, this letter is much too long to deliver the message, almost as if Jon had been deliberately dragging it out instead of going for his much more usual, concise missives.

Why the flowery speech, she wonders, what are you trying to say, Jon?

As if this were not enough, a raven had arrived from Lord Tyrion, extending an invitation to King’s Landing, for an event that is scheduled to happen in a moon’s turn and a half.

Suddenly, it occurs to Sansa how lucky they truly are that this raven came a fortnight after the remaining Starks managed to outwit and execute Littlefinger. For surely, he would have found a way to find out about Jon’s latest folly, would use it to his advantage – would have everyone in the North crying out for blood; his blood.

“Jon would never,” says Arya, more forcefully than before, “my brother would never.”

Read at Ao3.

[islabloomfield-blog]

[vihrago-a]

@lt-ghxst heres a thing