#artfulprecision

[olliscot]

@artfulprecision asked: 26, racer au pls     ;;        image.

                 The plan was for the two of them to have dinner in his flat. A proper dinner where the two of them sat and ate, had some conversation, and did their best to actually act normal. He wasn’t normal and he was thinking about getting his hand up her skirt. Not that either of those were anything shocking. Quite the opposite as he waited for her. She was late. He understood. She called before she left and mentioned some patient. He hadn’t actually made them dinner. Rather he bought it. Saved time and sanity than him trying to make something without burning it. He could cook. He just hated it. All pointless thoughts she actually came through his front door with that look on his face. Oh, they were definitely not eating the food he bought. 

As she moved forward he admired that little uniform of hers. Outside of the fact that she was always there to patch him up when he got a bit reckless that uniform of hers was the best part. “I missed you.” A soft admittance as he wasted no time in pulling her closer, allowing for his hand to move up her thigh, over the curve of her ass. How they ever managed to play nice and actually eat something was beyond me. “Shame I’m not your only patient.” He broke his gaze off of hers as he eyed her like she was the intended meal. Perhaps she was. A small smirk spread across his lips as he moved his palm over her knickers, eager for a reaction, finding any other desire for anything but her was long gone. “Though I think my cock is need of some attention only you can provide.” 

[wolvencrown]

sc.     //     @artfulprecision

        It had been far too long since he felt the effects of battle. The way the blood rushing through his veins felt even more rapid, ready to cause him to explode. The blood, the dirt, the death,all so much and his concern turned to Margaery. After he made sure his siblings were safe. A miracle. Bloodshed in war was normal but he was not going to lose her. Not after he lost Jeyne. Jeyne who deserved so much better than he ever gave her. He could not make another mistake. Especially not with the lives he saw lost. Could have been worse. So much worse. That was all he could tell himself. He hadn’t bothered to clean himself up as Winterfell was in chaos. But the night king was dead and he could not think to care about anything that the rose that captured his heart even if both of them should have been long gone from Westeros. It mattered not. 

He was aching. Bruised in all the worst places. His scars throbbing. Perhaps it was all in his head. Perhaps he had wounds. Did not know. Did not care. Not when she was right there. A hand reached out, grabbing her by the arm, dragging her closer to him. She was alright. Tully eyes scanned to make it so. He did not want to know the nuances of. They could worry about it when the sun rose and he could assess the damage. No doubt the Dragon Queen would be set her sights immediately upon Cersei. Even if he was eager to see her death he was not eager to spend more time with her and smitten Jon. 

Robb did his best to worry not about such things. Rather he let out a shaky breath. “You are alright.” Given there were others who were not he could not do anything to hide his shock. The horrors were still upon his mind. “Be my Queen.” He spoke. Not so much a question, nor a request. Something he was determined to have. A little stubborn, yes, and definitely a man whose heart was lost to her. Only this time he did not think they were going to be ruined. No Lannisters left to plot their demise. Not when those very Lannisters were in the very North, allegiances turned, something he could not process as his hated of Jaime lied deep in his core from his death. He did not do much to wait for Margaery to reply. Only allowed his lips to press upon hers in a kiss that made him feel more alive than even the battle could.

[steeledstark-blog]

 @artfulprecision || plotted for starter

It had been avoidance, intentional or not Sansa was unsure.  Safety had been offered to Margaery, who had fallen to the flames of the Sept, and was REBORN, a phoenix from the ashes.  Alive,  dead,  Sansa was not quite sure which plot of land the Rose was planted. Which brought valid concerns, as an army of freezing dead marched icy bones South .  As they prepared to DEFEND the realms of men and were kept waiting on a promise of aid by Cersei Lannister. Busied with preparations, with the practical affairs of infrastructure and food. Avoiding the possible threat posed, and the conflicted emotions stirred by a simple look at the girl who had provided Sansa with HOPE in the darkest of times, only to snatch it away and drop her as though she was nothing. And how angry she had been, only to know that the brunette had faced DEATH, and that stung deep as well . All in all, complex past avoided, until now paths crossed and there was no apt excuse out of it. A smile containing warmth which was easier to muster than Sansa would’ve thought graces her lips. “ Lady Margaery, walk with me . . . ” an arm offered to hook, reminiscent of walks through the gardens in bloom. Here it was above the crunch of snow beneath their feet. “ I apologize we have not gotten to speak sooner, how is the North treating you? Are you in need of anything ? ”  be it clothing, blankets, or mere comfort. Sansa was unsure what it was the SEMI-dead but revived required .  But here she was, offering it all with courtesy brimming to contain the utter twister of emotions. Lucky for her, the years had improved a steeled exterior,  ( but it was the eyes, which still betrayed ) .

[briennexofxtarth]

mmmm maybe mine 👀

SEND ME A URL AND I’LL WRITE SOME POSITIVITY FOR IT.

Okay, okay… I’m just checking your blog and I’ll never get tired of praising all of you that besides being really good writers are also Photoshop magicians. Like… just look at your icons, look at your graphics, look at that colorings and all that imaginery that make people get the feeling you want to express with your character! Also, we have never talked OOC but it seems to me by your blog and your rules that you are a very inclusive roleplayer (as in… you try to make everyone feel included) and you deserve all the love in the world for that!

[angeliatheturkishdelight]

@artfulprecision

A sigh of relief left the lips of Mahfiruze Humasah Sultan’s, or Angelia’s, lips, finally having her first taste of freedom after escaping her elder brother’s control. Her brother was recently crowned the sultan of their small, but prosperous land. Ibrahim was planning on having her married off to his cruel, lustful, womanizing grand vizier, Kemankes. The young princess knew deep inside that he would take advantage of her, cheat on her with the slaves of the harem at her brother’s disposal, and possibly abuse her. How could the man she grew up with, the man she called brother and loved, make such plans for her? Did he no longer care for her well-being or her happiness at all, just like he used to when they were younger? Angelia had to make a run for it, leave everything she knew of her life in the Ottoman Palace behind.

She slowly stepped out of her carriage, quickly fixing her veil to shroud her chest before making her way towards the great castle of Highgarden, surrounding by luscious flowers and foliage. She had heard such wonderful things about the Tyrell family, ranging from the beauty of the four Tyrell siblings to the quick wit and sharp tongue of Olenna. But, Lia admired them for being so peaceful and generous to the rest of the kingdom. 

Since her brother’s crowning, the prosperity in Topkapi was taking back by him. He started to treat her like a slave while the actual harem slaves were spoiled with the riches that used to belong to her. Her gowns, her jewelry and tiaras, her quarters, even the food! She ate whatever was left over next to grains and beans.

When she entered inside and notified her arrival to a guard, she waited patiently to be accepted an audience with the Tyrell family.

[ladyforrest]

          “ LADY MARGAERY ? ”     you feel as though you’ve been gutted, an icy knife piercing your skin and draining the life from you, sucking the blood from your veins, the soul from your body. you feel cold, and it isn’t ironrath’s harsh winter air that sends the chill up your spine, but the sight of a face so FAMILIAR that you feel ill.     she should be dead, she’s supposed to be dead !     you take a tentative step forth, your cloak brushing against the snow that has frozen beneath your feet, looking ever the picture of a northern highborn lady. furs draping your shoulders, the braids, the forrester sigil sewn upon your breast. you wonder if she can even recognize your after all this time, after everything that’s happened to you.     “ how is this possible ? ”

@artfulprecision liked.

[storiiestcld]

@artfulprecision liked for sansa!

     it’s unbearably warm compared to the north to the point that sansa is sweating beneath her dress, the lightest in fabric she’d owned. and she hasn’t even lifted a sword compared to the endless men still picking themselves up from the ground. northern men and knights of the vale are still counting numbers as sansa rides between them, avoiding bodies of both their own men and the lannisters who’s armor no longer gleams gold beneath the mud. with the fighting over and the castle retaken in favor of the tyrells, her target is the courtyard of the grand castle.

   this is not how she wanted to see highgarden.

   the tyrells had not asked for aid but sansa had come, bringing with her forces from the north. not all - jon is still at winterfell and needs men there as well. he’d been wary of her venture but in truth, sansa is as much in charge as he is when it comes to the north and he hadn’t been able to stop her once she’d heard via raven the lannisters intended to take highgarden. she would not allow it - besides, they will need all the men and gold and grain in the north shortly enough for the war against the white walkers, and having highgarden on their side is something they need.

    she slows as she comes into the courtyard of the main castle; brienne is at her side in an instant, helping her from her horse before her hand goes to her sword. ever faithful brienne. she smiles her thanks, and turns her gaze to the commotion around her. maesters and healers running about, her men trying to clean up the debris and take numbers - she turns to one of her loyal commanders. 

    “take me to lady margaery and lady olenna.”

[ncthingleft-blog]

   “I feel I need to remind my lady of the risks surrounding this venture.”

         As per his duty of course, though he knew it would go unheeded. Experience and a rather trying test of patience had given such an answer. Though dainty as the flowers of her house, the girl could have the stubbornness of a mule.   

⚜ artfulprecision