#femmesafacettes

"I promise nothing like that will happen. That was a stupid, poorly thought out idea, and I'm sorry. We both are. In future, we'll leave the scheming and plotting to those better suited to it."

That hadn't stopped him from wondering, though, from imagining a different world, with a different king. It seemed like something that would be quite manageable in the right circumstances- even with the pesky matter of the line of succession to consider.

"Maybe we should come here instead, though. The capital is nice enough, but there's so much sneaking around- you can't just have a conversation with someone without someone else finding out everything you said and using it against you somehow."

Salute- Little Mix

@controlseverything | @knowvalue | @gildedscripture | @theiracademydaysareover​ | @coffeeandtimeships​ | @crypticcandyman​ | @soulstcne​ | @evilangelqueen​ | @childrenoftime​ | @time-qxeen​ | @femmesafacettes​ | @peggys-orders​ |

SANSA had always wanted to marry for love.  when she had seen joffrey for the first time back at her home -- her true home, which felt more like some DISTANT DREAM to her now that something tangible -- she had been foolishly taken by what she thought a true prince should be.  he was handsome, he was kind, but the image of him shattered like glass at her feet, and she could not seem to stop herself from stepping on the shards.  

WHEN the tyrells saved the city and margaery was betrothed to joffrey in sansa’s place, she had been something of happy; it had been a flicker of something she once remembered, to be safe from the clutches of a monster -- a TRUE MONSTER, not simple snarks or grumpkins or other terrible things old nan had told them about as children to scare them into being good -- she should have known better then.

SHE hadn’t the chance to marry for love, though tyrion was kinder to her than she supposed any lannister would be, she did not love him.  what was more, she did not want for margaery to marry joffrey; she did not want for him to hurt her the way that he had hurt her; she was the one brief respite to the nightmare that surrounded her.  and so sansa eagerly accepted the invitation to luncheon with her in the gardens.

THE smile on margaery’s face causes sansa’s cheeks to warm, her lips unable to stop themselves from smiling back at her.  margaery is BEAUTIFUL; every bit the lovely rose as is expected of highgarden ( sansa thinks ser loras beautiful, too, but his interest in her had not been as she expected; she supposed willas was handsome too, even if he was broken, but any dreams of flying from the city have long passed ). she squeezes the other girls hands in her own, loathing to let go, as if the rest of king’s landing fades to nothingness and it’s only them.

( WHAT a world !!  sansa would spend the rest of her days eating lemon cakes in the garden, just she and margaery, smiling beautifully in the sunlight.  she realizes she hasn’t appreciated the warmth of king’s landing since her father was killed, not until margaery welcomed her ).

Closed starter for @femmesafacettes

If Cersei had been blood red, then Harley was an explosion of colour. 

They ran along the alley together, hand in hand. Burning lungs and pounding hearts. Filthy and sweaty and bright and beautiful.

Jaime pulled her against him under a streetlamp. Kissed her hard and bit her lip until he tasted blood. Good. Sweet. It made him feel alive.

Behind them, the alarms blared into the night. It had just been a stupidity, something he’d started on the spur of the moment. Almost a dare to himself. One minute they had been walking along, hand-in-hand, purring endearments at each other like a couple of teenagers. The next, he’d picked up a loose paving slab and thrown it through the window of the jeweller’s shop.

“I wanted to give you diamonds,” he’d shrugged as they helped themselves through the broken glass.

Then the owner had come out with a big fuck-off shotgun, and they’d had to run for their lives. 

With @femmesafacettes | Continued from here

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and Herc excused himself from his chat with the LaRues to check on it. He’d stopped actively keeping in touch with nearly everyone after he’d stepped down, and replied to e-mails about twice a month. But when he did his semi-frequent pilgrimage to check on families of deceased Rangers, that was when barrages of text messages came in.

Almost like everyone wanted to cram in things to say before he vanished again.

[sms] Hey, how long are you around? Want to grab a coffee? Or I could make you dinner. I’m not a bad cook.

It took Herc a few seconds longer than he liked before he placed the sender’s name to a memory. Oh, Miss Tyrell. While he could think of her brother as ‘Willas’ since they had been colleagues of sorts, it was hard to reconcile the memory of the young girl everyone yelled ‘Margaery’ at to the young woman he knew now. So-

[sms] Hey, I’ll be around for about a week more, I guess. 

Grabbing a coffee? Was that allowed under Shatterdome rules? Oh, wait. They didn’t live in Shatterdomes anymore. And maybe she needed help with something.