artfulprecision

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wolvencrown​  ✿ ━  

Her words continued to remain on his mind. He repeated them as he looked upon her. As if Robb could not believe that they were true, that they came from those lips of hers, and were directed at him. He could feel the heat rising between the pair of them from the moment they had a proper meeting. To have Margaery there looking upon him as she had made the shared walk necessary, for there was nothing to be done with how they looked upon one another in the company of others. Not that he would dare to think that any look exchanged between one another was truly noticed by the others. Perhaps Sansa. Only with how frosty his relationship with his sister had been he would not expect her to repeat anything to him, even if she remained close with the woman that was managing to prove that there was another world that he was meant to be partaking in. One far from the one he was still so attached to regardless that it had brought him to his end. 

It was not his sister that was upon his mind as he carried on with Margaery. She was distracting him in all the best ways. Often it felt as if she was the only one who understood him as well as the only one who did not seem to ask many questions about things he did not wish to answer. A certain bond formed as she came to Winterfell and he began to get to know her. Another that opened him up to what life after the tragedies had to offer. He was doing his best in order to not think with the parts of him that got him into trouble prior. His head needed to rule what was, not his heart or his cock. She proved to be the greatest test of such things, certainly with his words. Spending his time with a Northern lady from a known family would gain him far more favor with the lords. Only his interests seemed to be of the Southron variety. If they were to perish by what lies on the other side of the wall perhaps he should live the life he wished to. Not the one he thought others wished. 

The moment that he backed her up against the bark of the tree he knew that what reservation he had was going to be no longer. The desire found him all too quickly as he wanted nothing more than to feel alive with her. She was the only one to ignite such a fire inside of him. As the moon rose he often found himself wondering just how big the fire could grow within him. For so long Robb seemed to be the king who only grew cold. No time wasted as the words ignited such a large flame he could not resist. Certainly there was no more thinking as he found himself wishing to be with her entirely. The thought of sheathing himself within her walls had been on his mind for longer than he would admit to her. A certain relief sought with nothing but his hand as he thought of things that only caused him to hold guilt once morning came. No guilt found him then as he had fist fills of her skirt, looking upon her with desire in his eyes, letting her feel the arousal that was beginning to find him. Oh, how he craved her more than his words had allowed. It was his body that spoke for itself. No longer was anything hidden between the two of them. No dance needed as they only seemed to truly desire on another. At her question he did not reply at the moment. Rather he allowed a hand to slip beneath her skirts, letting the material fall around him, the palm of his hand meeting the warm flesh of her thigh, eying her as if he was not daring to touch her at all. “Quite some time.” He admitted softly, inching himself closer to her, lips brushing against her own without giving her the kiss he knew all too well the both of them ached for. “I do not believe either of us have made it any sort of secret, have we?” Rather they had both shown how excellent their self control could be as they looked upon one another but dared not to touch. No longer did that seem anything either of them was interested in as he finally pressed his lips against her own, giving them the first kiss that was long overdue. 

Ever since she had rose from the ashes, all Margaery Tyrell knew was of fire. It felt as if the green flames were in her blood, just underneath her flesh that remained as pristine and clear as the day she was first born into the world. She had not known the cold since her rebirth, had never felt it, had never shivered because of it. She was fire, she was warmth, yet in Robb Stark’s embrace, his skin was the first true sense of cold she had experienced. His cold skin, ice cold to the touch was one of the first true reliefs she had experienced. She craved it, craved him and filled with the thought of belonging to him as she wanted him to belong to her. Was such a desire truly built entirely of sin? Or desperation to want to belong, to find semblance of a life given to them both a second time? Did they not deserve this? With the feel of his hands lifting her skirts, her own hands wandering, under the guide of his as they came between her legs, a soft gasp escaping her and her own hand sought out the bulge of his arousal. A soft pant coming forth, chest heaving slightly as the palm of her hand started to rub against him, melting at the feeling of his hardened flesh, transfixed at the feel of it growing harder.

His lips were a tease, and perhaps if she were in another time, she would tease him as well. Yet life was so fleeting, for one moment, she did not want to play games. Doe eyes looking into his, dazed with lust and desire, tongue wetting her lips as a shudder finds her at the feel of his lips. “Mm,” comes from her at his words. “I can feel it,” as would he, with the way his hand went. She had managed well, so many years of being untouched. The prided virgin wife of Highgarden, so unfortunate to be thrice married and unbed. Yet with Robb that crumbled. Wanting to be touched. To have her desire known, lusts fulfilled. Yet laughter find her, short and fleeting — but there, as she looked up at him and shook her head lightly. “We have not. I should feel shameful for that....Yet I do not.” Not even a little, she realized.

And then she felt it, the feel of his lips against her own that made her release a heated gasp, heart fluttering within her chest as she let out a moan. Once again, his touch was a relief within her, a hand raised to cup his cheek, fingers to stroke his beard, and raise into those Tully red curls, grasping and squeezing as lips parted, opened as tongue slid within his own. Deep inhale, skin tingling, his taste flooding her senses and her heated skin felt a gentle cooling wash over her. Tongue rolling against his own, her hand falling down his neck, shoulder, arm, all the way to his wrist that was at her thigh. It was brazen, yet were they not past such things at the moment? Teeth catching his bottom lip, biting, tugging as she guided his hand between her legs, cunt bare and allowing him to touch her, to feel the wanton desire dripping and making itself known. “I want them to see,” she breathed against his lips. “For the Gods to see what they’ve made of us... For bringing us back... Make me yours, Robb Stark.”

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wolvencrown​  ✿ ━

ROBB: she would, would she?  i really don’t know what to say to that.  ROBB: my parents wouldn’t approve either. though my father just stares in his disapproval so we don’t have to worry about him.  ROBB: i don’t have any problem with you meeting my mother, but she is…disapproving of almost everyone that has ever been brought into this house by her children. that includes the people jon and theon have brought by.  ROBB: just bring you. maybe a bottle of wine. six. 

MARGAERY: accept the fact that you, robb stark, have a very nice bum. MARGAERY: i’ll just have to charm him, i’m quite good at that, and also with your mother. perhaps i can pull sansa with me as our true ally. MARGAERY: that sounds like a challenge, and i could never refuse those. hmm. your mother is formidable, even Grandmother says so. can you tell me anything that could give me a bit of an edge with her? MARGAERY: i’ll get the very best we only bring out for company. six it is 💕

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39th Brit Awards at The O2 Arena in London, UK - February 20, 2019

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By John Russo for Marie Claire Mexico - 2016

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previously on.... @wolvencrown​

✿ ━  robb

          her words caused his gaze to shift,  looking upon her without uttering a word just yet.  around margaery he came to choose his words wisely for he hated when they found themselves quarreling over nothing.  it always ended the same.  with them between the furs,  or her bent over the table where the maps rested,  or a myriad of other places that were not suitable for a king and a queen to conduct themselves.  he cared little for what was deemed right and wrong from his own mother or the gods.  both old and new.  he shifted so he could face her.  seeing that look upon her features that she often gave him.

         “ is that so? ”  she was unlike any woman he had met before.  his mother was quite a forceful entity and the women in the north were not meek by any standards.  it was not the equality in their marriage that bothered him.  no,  it only proved of interest how she would make such statements,  demands,  and expect him to follow through with them.  he had,  most often.  perhaps not without him being a little difficult.  if for his own nature was not to take anyone’s words without pushing back at least somewhat.  “ does the same go for you as well,  my queen?  from what i have heard you have quite a reputation yourself. ”

words were meant to prickle,  to be difficult if only for the effect.  he already knew how well he would bring her into what his plans were.  her advice already had done him well and he only wished to heed more of it.  he stood,  closing the distance between them,  a hand on her hip as he tugged her so that she was nearer to him.  “ you only speak your intentions and advice to me.  i need no others listening to the thoughts of the queen and acting in their own accord.  my own men and yours, as well.  do you understand? ”

She had wondered what his reaction to her words would be. He was a Northerner after all, second only to being male and the words of a woman as strong as she was not often met with any amusement of any kind. Robb was different, though. With his ice blue eyes that seemed to melt as he gazed upon her. The first man to spark true emotion from the depths of her instead of sparking the calculations of her mind. Thinking of the next step, the next advantage, with all the gifts her Grandmother had bestowed upon her since she was a child. The first man where she didn’t have a structured role to play, to simply be — herself. She relished it with her entire being, yet she would never be a silly girl caught up in the romance. They were still amidst a war, and in that, preparations must be made.

Yet still, she could not be sure if he were to agree to the terms she put forth. Male and northern, after all. There had been plenty moments where he had pushed back against her when she spoke her mind, yet reason would lead them forward. The words from his lips brought out a smile, perhaps out of place for the intentions of his words were perhaps meant to bristle, and if she were the heated type, despite her lot clinging to son rather than the snow as he, her mind was cool and collected, outside of certain...activities between the two of them. “Of course,” she said without heed, the smile widening as amusement glittered within her eyes. “Is not confiding in one another the prime objective between husband and wife? A King and his Queen even more so. I do not plan to hide anything from you, as I hope you feel the same. Otherwise, those that sought to sever our alliance needn’t bother, such things would do so by our own hands, and I would not want our enemies to be happy, would you?”

When he came, she did not flinch, his touch never provided her the inclination. Only a small inhale of breath as the warmth cascaded around her as his hand came to her hip. Licking her lips as she came closer towards him, a hand gently pressed and stroking his chest as the warmth of his body delighted her own. Once again, his words spark a smile, a soft barely a chuckle escaping her, the same hand on his chest rose to cup the side of his cheek, tilting her chin up and looking him squarely into his eyes. “Understood. I would not have it any other way. They would not listen to me, I dare say, our men would not so easily listen to a woman. And I care not for them, I only care that you listen to me. You take pride in my words, as well as stock in them. For my thoughts, my opinions, I want to share them with you and not to sit idle in my mind with no fruition. I want us to be a team, to be on the same page in this war. For I have lost a husband, I do not seek to be twice widowed, my King. Not when I am this happy. Do you understand?”

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Starter call? hit the post with a like and reply whether modern or historical, please.

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thewxnderer​ ✿ ━

Harry was sure there was a lot more marriage turn overs in history. There was a huge and utter gap in a lot it relations there. Targaryen women might be the easiest to slander with the turn over in leadership but women received an unfair deal. He could not fault Margaery and would not judge, there was more at play at times, there always seemed to be more. He breathed steadily as he admired the woman, it took a lot to survive a den of lions and even more so to still be standing when you do. “ No one would say the same about the Baratheon boys. Our lives have strange rules. Perhaps, it might be better if the Targareyen Queen rules. From my understanding she is far more equitable in her distant holdings.” He was a distant relative to Jon Arryn and now he managed the Vale, for the first time really. He came back form the Warfront to marshal greater numbers and ascend formally to his title since the unfortunate demise of his cousin. “ I have the fortunate disposition to use Littlefingers wealth for the betterment of the Vale, on account of him having no living kin. From that coffers you could sample. A name, now that a very individualistic prospective.” 

He was not wrong. Any male, perhaps, would never dare be looked down upon for how many wives they accumulated in their lives. Women, however? Each demise or separation would be looked upon as a failure. She had been unlucky, though. Each husband, however it was met, received the breath taking kiss of Death. All Baratheon men, too. “It was a shame I had never met Robert, for that was a plan, once before. A plot concocted and initiated yet never followed through.” She let out a soft chuckle, “To convince him that I looked like his first love, it was claimed that I did, but I very much doubt it. I was more than happy to not see that plan through.” Renly had been a fool to think it, yet he was determined at first, before the plan had been for she to be his wife instead. Not that it had ended any better. At the talk of the Targareyen Queen, the Tyrell rose arched a brow, looking over at Harry. “...I know it is because of the Targareyen rule from long ago that had made my family rise above what they were. My father had done well to serve King Aerys through the Rebellion... Yet, I cannot say it did well for my Grandmother or Highgarden for backing that very Targareyen Queen.” She had not seen Highgarden since she had heard of its capture, the looting of gold, and death of Olenna. Turning away from him, her eyes cold as she let out a breath. “It has been of my experience that those that fight with fire are the ones who people should be the most cautious around. There is no telling who can get burned in the crossfire.” Burning, the mere thought of it causes a heat to overcome her, letting out a breath once more. “I suppose, if I am to masquerade as Lady of the Vale, I shall have to name myself after a prominent family with loose connections, that, or take on the name of Stone.”

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Natalie Dormer in Penny Dreadful: City of Angels

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carelessgraces​ ✿ ━

ASTORIA: Honey, you had me at “food.” ASTORIA: Yikes. I can definitely sympathize with dads meaning well and trying to aim your future in a very specific and dad-approved direction. ASTORIA: Gotta love the love, but y i k e s. ASTORIA: It’s a combination “I need to be sure my daughter’s cared for and looked after” and “My daughter is a strong and independent woman who can contribute to this family’s legacy.” ASTORIA: What do you need, babe? Getaway driver, or a scandal? If it’s a scandal, I can see about getting you photographed with a married man, but that has a 50/50 chance of backfiring. ASTORIA: If it’s a getaway driver, text me the address and I’ll be there in a heartbeat.

MARGAERY: I figured you would, food is a powerful motivator. MARGAERY: God, I knew you’d understand. It’s all a bit mad, I know his heart is in the right place — or I hope it is — but his good intentions feel like a collar around my neck dragging me down into the abyss. MARGAERY: To think I’m going through this in the year 2020. Yikes is a good word to describe all this. MARGAERY: I don’t know if a scandal will do it, unless you have a secret contact with Olivia Pope and then maybe we can get somewhere. MARGAERY: I think a getaway driver is going to do it, for now at least. MARGAERY: Here’s the address, I’ll sneak out the back and then we’ll be getting all sorts of food, you and me.

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Penny Dreadful: City of Angels |  Nathan Lane & Natalie Dormer [x]

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dunnithole​ ✿ ━

She was awfully charming. He’d have expected nothing else from a Tyrell. Blanc had been swimming through these rich, noble waters of England’s high society long enough to be familiar with the bigger fish in it. Margaery and her family were quite the school to behold. A twinkle graces his eyes as he politely chuckles at her joke, eyes travelling around their circle to note her brothers   – as statuesque as the lady herself – had followed a similar suit.  ❛  It’s very kind of you to give me so much credit.  ❜  Blanc says with practised modesty, for the sentiment in its most genuine form had never suited nor graced him.  ❛  But I’m afraid I’m no knight in shining armour, I usually show up after the deed is done.  ❜  Her dig at the brits does make a more natural chuckle spill from his lips. He agrees soundly, raising his champagne flute at her.  ❛  You would, indeed. It’d be an awful shame if you were to meet your demise, I hope you haven’t got any dark secrets lurking behind those lovely bright eyes that would make someone want to put a damper on this party.  ❜   A beat. His tone fluctuates the line of teasing and real.  ❛  Especially because I’ve been enjoying the open bar quite a bit, to be on the clock now would be bad for business.  ❜ 

“Ah, there’s the rub. I suppose that can be fun, on your end, to come at the aftermath of all the chaos death brings... Not quite so when it is your own demise.” It probably shocked the other party guests that she could talk so candidly about the mere thought of her death, her murder with a lightness in her tone, yet it was such fun for Margaery. She couldn’t quite stop. His laugh is nice and it brought her a sense of pride to be the one to draw it out, also that of her brothers that sat among her. A chuckle of her own comes forth as the detective spoke, giving a noncommittal shrug, “A woman’s secrets are her own, dark or otherwise. Though no, as far as I’m concerned, they’re nothing worth getting violently murdered over. Yet there are some women that cling to their slights, imagined or otherwise. I suppose a woman filled to the brim with jealousy could seek to rid me of this world. A sad woman, indeed, thinking the world would be better without those younger, clever and beautiful than they are... Though I’d hope not, it would be such a pathetic reason to murder someone. Then again, from my understanding of True Crime stories, people have murdered for less. Tell us, what has been the most dastardly of motive for murder you’ve come across? I’m terribly fascinated, if you not think it so morbid to indulge me.”

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carelessgraces​ ✿ ━

“Good fucking riddance. He’s a waste of your time, and trust me, Mar, you can do a thousand times better.”

     Astoria raises the glass in toast, trying and failing to suppress an eye roll at the thought. It never ceases to amaze her, how quickly men underestimate Margaery, how easily they dismiss the things that are important — it’s the pretty face, she thinks, and the smile like she knows everybody’s secrets. Easier for people to pretend there’s nothing else going on. Still, she has no patience for seeing it, has no patience for experiencing it herself. The wine is rich and sweet, the company is good, and it’s a quieter night than she’d imagined it might be.

     “I hate it. As if men don’t treat every hobby they pick up like it’s some sacred duty and then turn around and act like everything we do is just a passing interest we’ll give up on the second it’s inconvenient for them. But, general disappointment aside — what are you going to do, about the painting? Are you going to be able to finish in time, or will you have to do something else?”

She laughed, as she was helpless to do so with Astoria’s words. “You’re not wrong. Definitely not wrong. I’d even wager to say my break up was too nice for him.” It was rather cold, stand off-ish, in fact. Said quite casually, as she remembered it, so much that he had to ask her to repeat herself just to be sure. It wasn’t hard, there was no heartbreak, one had to be in love to have heartbreak over a relationship ending, after all. “I might take a break from trying again, though. Who knows what twat would end up being pushed my way...” Through her family? Through happenstance? Something to ponder on.

A soft sigh escaped her as she took her drink, an appreciative moan given at the taste. She was going to need a lot more of the bottle tonight, already refilling her glass even though it was barely halfway gone. She hadn’t the time to think of silly boys, not with the deadline looming overhead. Frederick may have been a dolt of a man, but he was pretty and she had looked forward to painting him as her subject. Astoria’s words did bring out a smile, snap her out of her reverie, bringing doe eyes toward her once more. “Not to mention if you dare not give any interest to their sport of choice, perish the thought.” She only really enjoyed watching Loras spar at the club, if she were honest, his skills with the fencing sword remarkable in its own. As for what she was going to do... “The hell if I know... This really ruined things, you know? It’s not that long off and trying to find another model this late in the game is going to be...challenging, to say the least. I could try and go about it another way, but I just... I’m not sure what that would even be, I...”

Her brows furrowed, looking toward the other woman for a moment. She was tall, leggy, and with fiery red hair that if she could manage to capture the right shade.... “Astoria... Have you...ever modeled before?”

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Dormer will be doing (at least) triple duty as shape-shifting “agent of chaos” Magda, portraying three distinctly different human manifestations – each with a story to tell: “The audience will discover who those identities are as they continue to watch the show”.

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Starter call? hit the post with a like and reply whether modern or historical, please.