send me one of the following.

               ' I warned you not to marry the Lannister boy, sister, but nobody                ever listens to the cripple. '

     It is stated with a good-humored smile and an arm wrapped around the      thin shoulders of the youngest Tyrell, a brief kiss placed to the soft skin      at her temple. It cannot be said that the heir of Highgarden does not have     a good sense of humor, at least.

               ' You will wrap him around your finger just as easily as you have                every other man that's dared to look at you, dearest. Do not worry,               Margaery. '

Send me a ‘Make it stop’ for my muse’s reaction to your muse dying in their arms.

     Surely no man had ever made as anguished a sound as the one      that spilled from the crippled's lips as he saw the stark look of      childish terror on his dearest sister's face.

     He had seen the joy that light up those eyes of hers when she      was happy, excitement -- the sort of childlike excitement that only     he, even out of his brothers, had been privvy to. He remembered      when she had been young and naive and had fallen too hard too     fast, before he had injured himself, and her heart had shattered     into a million pieces, and he had made the man who had done it to     her match the devastation. He remembered her cool hands on his     hot face as she had held him after the accident and soothed him     with silly little words, whispered so quietly he could barely make     them out, in the back of her throat, where only he could hear.

     So sweet, his Margaery, as she had promised that it would all be      alright, that there was no force in this world that could hold him down,     her brother, her sweet brother, and he had wept and not been as-     hamed. He remembered the pain he had felt when he had released      her at her first wedding, and the agony when he had heard her to     be engaged to the vicious boy king, Joffery Lannister.

     He remembered the smile on her face when he had seen her again,     after she had returned from King's Landing and all the drab company     she had endured there. Life was something the lord had always taken     for granted, if only because he had seen it nearly vanish before his     eyes when had been a young boy and made a stupid mistake.

     He had seen how full and brimming with every day she had been,     with every breath she took, and he could not fathom why there was      a bright splotch of scarlet on her abdomen and why she was falling,     but he was catching her anyway. He hit the ground with a jarring im-     pact, her body tucked into his own. His hands were shaking as they     framed her face, and her eyes were filled with tears. The concept of     air seemed to be evading him at the moment.

               ' Margaery? Sister? Please, sister. You're fine. You're going to                be okay. '

     He trips over his words like a child, and his hands are pale and shaking,     smoothing over the soft curly brown hair that all of the Tyrell children     had, and he can remember her looking at him with softer eyes, kinder     eyes, eyes that had never judged and always loved, and had laughe     d and glinted with mischief and fire, and he can't stand watching them     dull the way they are now.

                              ' It ------ hurts. '

     His head ducks and presses against her own, his breathing uneven, and     he can hear how shallow hers is. He had always been strong for her, be-     cause he could not be the warrior to protect her, but how could he do      that when she was dying in his arms?

                              ' Make it stop, brother. '

     Hot tears trickle down his cheeks, mixing with blood, some sort of des-     ecration, he was sure. It was not right, to see the stain of scarlet across      her pale skin. There was something wrong with the sight. Margaery couldn't     die. The fire inside her couldn't be extinguished, surely. But it's happening      anyway, and he feels the tighter he holds on, the faster she slips away.

               ' I am sorry I didn't protect you, dearest. I am so sorry. '

Send me a "旦" If our muses haven't interacted yet and but you want us to change that.

Send me a "旦" If our muses haven't interacted yet and but you want us to change that.

Send me a "旦" If our muses haven't interacted yet and but you want us to change that.

Send me a "旦" If our muses haven't interacted yet and but you want us to change that.