#soldierose

[antynous]

Do you believe in love? / I am a soldier / I don’t believe in anything

[rated-r-for-grantaire]

"omg doomed by the narrative!" "omg when they find each other in every life :(!" "omg murder as an act of love" be SO for real. you people don't even listen to ghost quartet.

[r0sierosierosie]

HELLO NICHE COMMUNITY

im making malloysical keychains is anyone inchrested ???

all of them will be holographic and sparkly ....... click here to order them >:]

(there is also reddie and byler btw )

[asthe-crow-flies]

back on my soldierrose bullshit

[ID: digital drawing of the soldier and rose in the alley. rose is wearing a red dress and has red hair. the soldier is wearing a green military uniform and has brown hair in a bun. they are standing under a warm yellow light, which fades into the darkness. they are holding each other close, foreheads touching. rose is pressing a gun to the soldier’s chest. end ID]

[amaliatheartist]

You got blood on your hands and I know it's mine

I just need more time

[lobotomy-jpeg]

Take me onto the dance floor, let me cry against your cheek.

[id: Digital sketch of Soldier and Rose from Ghost Quartet. The Soldier is holding Rose, chest to back. Rose is tilting her face back and the Soldier rests her head in the crook of Rose's neck. Rose is wearing a star necklace. They're both crying. /end id]

[julic-art]

Just a few of my favorite inktober pieces I’ve done so far :)

I’m using my own prompts based off of ghost quartet

[cactus-cactus-cactus]

I don’t think Rose felt guilty about killing the soldier. Not at first. It was a job for her, a means to an end. I think Rose pried the honey from Soldier’s bloody hands. I think she walked away and didn’t look back.

But it nagged at her.

She never saw soldier’s ghost. She had made a promise, after all— “I won’t come back to haunt you.” Either Soldier told the truth, or ghosts didn’t exist at all. It didn’t matter. It was the same either way. No ghosts, no ghosts.

Does Rose believe in ghosts?

Soldier was not killed nobly. She’d had her back turned when Rose pulled out the gun. She didn’t scream when she turned back. She didn’t speak when Rose pulled the trigger. There was no shock, no surprise, yet there was no acceptance either. She died gripping the honey with iron claws, as though she was trying to hold that last bit of life with all her strength. And Rose had pried each finger off. No tears. No ceremony. An unmarked grave for a nameless soldier.

That’s a lie. The soldier did scream. She is always screaming.

Rose never sees soldier. Rose sees soldier everywhere. She wakes up every night, terrified soldier will be on top of her, bloodied hands at Rose’s throat, back to take a ghostly revenge. That night has not yet come and it may never come. But every night, Rose cannot rest easy. Her fingers, her eyes, her screams—

Does the ghost haunt her?