#hotd#daeron targaryen#helaena targaryen#daemon targaryen#aemond targaryen
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(rumor meme) So I heard you were keeping some human as a pet.
“I have had many humans as pets,” the Lieutenant started. “You’ll have to be a bit specific.”
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”I’m telling you, get your eyes checked.”
Sentence Starters || NOT Accepting (on account that I can’t bloody find them)
“And I’m telling you there wasn’t even a spark. Don’t question the Fae, little bird; I’ve got better eyesight than a hawk.”
Hogwarts au
Chris was going to be cleaning soot out of his ears for weeks.
He was fairly decent at all of his other classes, could do better in Charms, but something about Potions. All they had to do that hour was to make a drowsiness draught. One guy had even done it well enough to start yawning from the fumes, but Chris’s... well. He was better at making fireworks rather than a sleepy potion.
His friend Terry was walking along side him coming up with fire themed puns every now and then. He was best friends with the guy, but sometimes he really really wanted to punch him in the throat. Terry was only a bit shorter than him, had wavy black hair, and brown eyes. Sometimes his nose looked a little too thin for his face, but the girls seemed to like it on him so he didn’t complain too much about it.
“Okay okay i’m done i swear, besides it looks like my jokes are really ‘burning’ you up.” Terry laughed, avoiding a swing at his shoulder from Chris.
“You’re a real arse sometimes you know? Why do i even put up with you?” Chris said as he rolled his eyes.
“Because i keep your grade in potions from the danger of failing.”
“Well i’m the one that got you out of trouble when you let loose a bunch of frogs in Transfigurations you know. That ‘broken lock’ was tricky to do from across the ro-... oh shit! So sorry, didn’t mean to run into you.” Looking at Terry while talking Chris hand’t paid attention to where he was going until full on bumping into someone.
Hunted
The Jack of Blades ran--or more accurately, stumbled his way to his horse, ignoring the loud protests of his aching body and doing his best to tune out the battle that raged on the mountaintop. The earth rumbled and groaned beneath his feet as his body hands gripped the saddle and his foot found the stirrup. Pain seared his mind and his vision greyed as he hoisted himself into the horse's back, but it didn't stop him from urging the beast into a full-on gallop. Lightning crashed and thunder rolled through the heavens, clouds pregnant with rain. It did little to drown out the sounds of battle. He felt sick. The Queen would not survive this encounter. He knew it; she knew it. It was only because of her sacrifice that he was able to escape, so that he would be able to complete a very important mission. Perhaps the most important mission of all. The Court of Blades was done for, shattered like glass. Their defeat had come in the most unexpected of ways. Their enemy, the boy called William Black, had never proved to be much of a threat before, and after the Jack's battle with him some weeks ago it had been believed that he had died from his wounds. But he had returned stronger than ever, stronger than any could have imagined. The Court hadn't stood a chance. There was only a glimmer of hope left, and it resided in the castle. There was no doubt in the Jack's mind that that would be where William would head next. He only hoped that it had not been sacked in the Court's absence. He was relieved to see that no smoke billowed from the castle's spires as he made it over the final rise some hours later, but would not allow himself to rest easy just yet. Though things may have looked calm from a distance, it did not mean that trouble did not lay in wait for him. Gently, his mind reached out and found a heartbeat, light and quick with the vibrance of youth. He sensed no fear there, nor from anyone else within the strong stone walls. Still, he would have to be careful, and fast. Upon reaching the stables, he dismounted and made for the servant's entrance as quickly as he could, ignoring the stable boy's worried questions and ordering him to have a fresh horse ready to go by the time he returned. Dimly, he noted the trail of blood he was leaving behind him. If someone came looking for him, he wouldn't be hard to find. This only spurred his steps up through the tower, across several halls and finally to the chamber that contained his quarry. His head felt both light and heavy, his movements sluggish and his steps jarringly miscalculated. He felt weaker than he ever had, but he had to keep pushing forward. For his brother and sister. For everything. "Katja," he called as he pushed the door open and staggered inside the lavishly decorated room. His voice sounded tired even to his own ears. "We must leave."
“Are you hurt anywhere?”
Sentence Starters {Protective Version}
“I’ll live,” Jack responded, his hand pressed firmly to the wound on his side. It hurt to breathe; he counted three–no, four broken ribs. But he would live. “Thanks to you. That was some pretty impressive spell casting. That bastard didn’t know what hit him.” He chuckled, then instantly regretted it. His face twisted with a pained groan, but he recovered quickly. “Let’s go home. Help me up.”
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☬(fable!)
Fable Quotes and Sentences Masterlist Meme PART ONE
Send me a ☬ and I’ll generate a number between 1 and 671 for what my muse will say to yours! Or, if you’re brave, you can send me a sentence from the list and my muse will react to it! {42}
“There is little else for me to teach you, but I will always be around to offer you guidance.” He offered her a broad smile, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “You’ve done so well. I’m very proud of you.”
"It's okay! It was just a dream!"
Send me “You’re okay, it was just a bad dream.” for my characters reaction to waking up from a nightmare in your characters arms.
He awoke with a jerk and a shout, his face wet with tears he hadn’t known he’d been shedding. Eyes too wide and wild with fear, he glanced up to her face. It was as though he did not recognize her immediately, because for a moment there was hate mingled with the fear in his gaze, but it was quickly replaced by surprise, then a silent apology.
He wasn’t sure how he had ended up cradled in her arms. Perhaps she had collected him in an effort to keep him from thrashing in his sleep. It didn’t matter. He felt his cheeks redden with embarrassment as he gently pulled away from her to sit up. This wasn’t the first time she had seen him like this, but that fact didn’t make it any less embarrassing.
Wiping away the tears that stained his cheeks, he whispered a muddy, “I’m alright,” without looking at her. It was a lie, of course, but he didn’t want her asking too many questions. It was bad enough that she had caught him in a moment of vulnerability, crying in his sleep like a schoolboy being chased by monsters in his dreams.
Yahoo Me
Leave a “Yahoo Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about our characters celebrating something.
It was over.
The war against the Corruptor and his minions, against the man who caused all the pain and destruction of Jack’s life, was won. The boats had returned from Samarkand heavy with the elated inhabitants of Bowerstone, and things had largely returned to normal. There was much to rebuild, and many lives had been lost, but it was over. They were free. And none were more free than the Jack of Blades.
It was odd. He had spent over a thousand years thirsting for revenge, and now that he had successfully taken it, he wasn’t quite sure how to feel. He felt relieved, of course, and tired, ecstatic, but also strangely empty. He had hated for so many years that he barely knew what it felt like to be without it. What was odder still was the fact that he was celebrated by the people. They knew who he really was, and some still showed wariness, but to many he was a hero in the truest sense.
“How’s that for a switch?” he muttered around the lip of his bottle of whiskey, watching the soldiers and their families cheer and dance to the lively music. He could see Katja twirling gaily in the crowd, her smile broad and joyful.
Will, of course, was nowhere to be found. The war had weighed heavily upon his heart–more so than it had for the Jack himself–and he hadn’t much felt like celebrating. Morgaine had retired for the evening; the baby was due any day now, and she needed her rest. He’d half thought of joining her, for letting her out of his sight even for a moment made him worry, but he wasn’t drunk yet, and he was in dire need of getting drunk.
As the latest song ended and the men bowed and the ladies curtsied, he took another long swig. It always took a lot to get him even a little tipsy due to his not being human, but he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try to walk out of the Cock in the Crown completely smashed. It was only when the bottle fell away from his line of view that he saw that Katja had bound up to him.
“I’ve not seen you dance once this whole night,” she chastised. “Aren’t you supposed to be celebrating?”
“I am celebrating,” he shot back, holding up the half-empty bottle of alcohol. “Besides, you know I don’t enjoy parties or dancing.”
“So you intend to just sit back here, alone, and drink yourself to death?”
“Not to death, just until I am very, very drunk. But yes, that is the plan.”
She lips pursed in distaste, her hands coming to rest on her hips. “That’s no fun at all.” Then she brightened considerably as an idea dawned upon her. “You should dance with me!”
“No.” His response was flat and immediate, punctuated by another sip of whiskey. This caused a scowl to tug at her pink lips, and a smirk to rise to his.
“Why not?!”
“Because I have been at war for the past year and I would like to forget that fact for a night.”
“Alright, then, how much have you had?”
He had to stop for a minute to count. “Two…,” he glanced down at the bottle in his hand, “…and a half.”
“And are you drunk yet?”
He frowned, knowing where this was going. “….No.”
“Then dance with me!” She beamed up at him, a ray of sunshine. “Just one song, and then you can go back to your drink and I won’t bother you again.”
He deliberated for a moment. She had him. She knew she had him, too–he could see it in her smug little smile. “Fine,” he sighed, setting his drink aside. “Just the one.”
Her grin widened with excitement and triumph.“That’s all I ask!” She linked her arm with his, and led him onto the dance floor.
