Castles of Snow

Welcome to the Vale, home to Lord Petyr Baelish and his 'daughter', Alayne Stone.

Role Play, 18+, Non-Canon

"In the game of thrones, even the humblest pieces have wills of their own."
- Lord Petyr Baelish
Work like you don’t need money, love like you’ve never been hurt, and dance like no one’s watching. -Unknown
1 hour ago on April 23rd, 2014 | J | 343 notes
3 hours ago on April 23rd, 2014 | J | 24 notes

fosya:

Oh great.

5 hours ago on April 23rd, 2014 | J | 304 notes
acompletelife:

Lauren Albanese

acompletelife:

Lauren Albanese

8 hours ago on April 23rd, 2014 | J | 2,968 notes

 The Starks/Snow - 4.01

10 hours ago on April 23rd, 2014 | J | 993 notes

like-some-dragon:

sometimes i cry bc of Aidan Gillen in the movie Shanghai Knights…

image

baby littlefinger

11 hours ago on April 23rd, 2014 | J | 24 notes
assemblyfairytale:

Tales of 1001 Nights 
by Olga Dugin

assemblyfairytale:

Tales of 1001 Nights
by Olga Dugin

12 hours ago on April 23rd, 2014 | J | 9 notes

Do you know what they did to my brother? They sewed his direwolf’s head onto his body. And my mother, they say they cut her throat to the bone and threw her body in the river.

14 hours ago on April 23rd, 2014 | J | 183 notes

If we’re going play, you’ll have to start

16 hours ago on April 23rd, 2014 | J | 5,688 notes
kimberlite8:

An illustration from the my illustrated novella Running with the Hare and Hunting with the Hound by DuBuGomdori.

His head fell deeply back, baring his throat to her in submission. “My lonely wolf,” he gulped a sobbing breath. 
Sansa leaned towards him, consuming the scent of him, his very essence in a deep breath. Her teeth gently closed over the curve of his great bull neck.
He made a low growl. He put his right palm at her throat, his thumb pressing into her vein. The sound of her own pulse throbbed in her ear as she pressed her sharp kisses to his neck. Her lips were warm, wet, sucking, strong, so strong that she would leave marks.
“Born to serve,” he laughed. She could feel the tremor inside of him, bone-deep. 
Snowflakes melted on her eyelids, like a curtain descending…

kimberlite8:

An illustration from the my illustrated novella Running with the Hare and Hunting with the Hound by DuBuGomdori.

His head fell deeply back, baring his throat to her in submission. “My lonely wolf,” he gulped a sobbing breath.

Sansa leaned towards him, consuming the scent of him, his very essence in a deep breath. Her teeth gently closed over the curve of his great bull neck.

He made a low growl. He put his right palm at her throat, his thumb pressing into her vein. The sound of her own pulse throbbed in her ear as she pressed her sharp kisses to his neck. Her lips were warm, wet, sucking, strong, so strong that she would leave marks.

“Born to serve,” he laughed. She could feel the tremor inside of him, bone-deep.

Snowflakes melted on her eyelids, like a curtain descending…

18 hours ago on April 23rd, 2014 | J | 47 notes
21 hours ago on April 23rd, 2014 | J | 11 notes
sansanfanart:

Sansa Stark by Natascha Roeoesli

sansanfanart:

Sansa Stark by Natascha Roeoesli

1 day ago on April 22nd, 2014 | J | 173 notes

And another thing….

slidingscale:

If you are bitching about Aidan’s accent and yet, say nothing about Saint Peter Dinklage’s truly fucking horrific accent, you are a jackass. 

1 day ago on April 22nd, 2014 | J | 23 notes

kallielef:

Sketch dump of asoiaf characters I think of. Often. So little sketch dump. 

1 day ago on April 22nd, 2014 | J | 163 notes

But only you did.

1 day ago on April 22nd, 2014 | J | 1,702 notes