When you see this, post a little weensy excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y.
Cabin Fever, Part 8 (chapter is unfinished and, therefore, unposted), WWE
“Truth or Dare?” Randy asked.
“What are you, five?”
“You’re the one who wants to play games, Dawn,” Randy said, almost snidely and Lita frowned before deciding that it was just the alcohol making her hear things.
“Fine, we can play I Never.”
“You can go first,” Lilian said, lining up their shot glasses.
“Fine.” Dawn smiled as Dave took the tequila from her, figuring he was the least drunk and would be less likely to spill the entire bottle. “Ready?” They all nodded. “I have never…worn handcuffs.” Dawn finished her statement by taking a shot.
"Gee, I've never been in trouble with the law before," John said, smiling and taking a drink.
“I haven’t,” Lilian said with a faux innocent smile, before taking a shot.
“The idea is to win, Dawn,” Lita said, laughing and taking a shot.
“Well, that depends on your idea of winning. I intend to get drunk…er. So, if I lie on my turns, I get more alcohol.”
“Why are we playing games again?” Randy asked. “Why can’t we just drink and have a good time.”
“It’s called ‘getting to know each other better’,” Dawn clarified.
“I can think of more exciting ways to do that,” the Legend Killer said with a smirk.
“Well, not with me,” Dawn said. “Didn’t I tell you, I married Cena this morning. We eloped below deck.”
“And who married you, the mop?”
“No. Captain Jack Sparrow. And if a Captain marries you, it’s legal.”
John, Randy, and Dave exchanged glances, before Dave leaned over to Lilian and asked, “How much has she had?”
“Oh, she’s not wasted. Johnny Depp lives in her head.”
Come What May, Harry Potter: AU version of book 2. Novel length. Not posted anywhere yet, but it's about 3/4 done (and will be the length of the book). All you need to know is that Ginny was sorted into Slytherin.
[Ginny] glanced around the common room, trying to find Adrian and Aurora, but her friends were nowhere to be seen. Sighing and deciding she’d be as well to get a head start on her Charms homework, she jogged up stairs and into her room, freezing when she spied Riddemar and Blake being held at wand point by her missing friends.
“What’s going on?” she asked, edging into the room. Glancing at the mess on the floor, however, it wasn’t hard to see that the two girls had been going through her things.
“Nothing,” Adrian said coldly. “We were just showing these two gnats the finer points of the ‘swish and flick’. Think you’ve got it?”
Both first years nodded and gulped as Aurora took a step closer. “And I really hope, for your sakes, that you stay away from Ginny’s things from now on. Or we might just encourage that redheaded temper we’ve heard she’s got.”
Adrian smirked. “And then there’s always us.”
Nodding profusely, the two girls rushed out the door the minute Adrian inclined his head towards it. Riddemar glared at her as she ran past, throwing her shoulder into Ginny’s and Ginny had to reign in the juvenile rush she had to chase after the girl and push her downstairs.
“I thought they’d given you a rest,” Adrian asked and she turned to face him.
“So did I, but I knew they wouldn’t leave it be. Blake doesn’t really bother me when she’s not following Riddemar about, though. What were they looking for?” she asked, watching as Aurora cast a spell to tidy the mess.
“I don’t think they were looking for anything in particular,” the older girl said, “just something you’d miss.”
Adrian smirked. “I heard something about a teddybear…?”
Ginny felt her face flush, but put her hands on her hips and mock glared at him. “Don’t you dare tease me about Perdo, Adrian Pucey. I’ve seen that ratty old dragon you have hidden in your drawers!” Adrian scowled at her, but he was smiling. “So how did you know what they were doing?”
Her friends exchanged glances and Ginny’s smile instantly faded. She knew exactly what they were thinking about. As if on cue, she heard a phantom voice calling her name. Her eyes slid to her bedside cabinet, where her diary was sitting. The pages flickered open and, whilst Aurora and Adrian both took a step back, Ginny walked towards it as the ghostly figure of Tom Riddle appeared.
Although he seemed unable to get into her head anymore, he was still there. Always there. He couldn’t take over her body, so, instead he seemed determined to drive her out of her mind. Whenever she was alone, he appeared to her, taunted her, told her all the nasty thing she would be made to do, that she had already done. Her nightmares were getting worse, as if he were standing by her bed night after night, whispering into her ear. In fact, she was convinced that that was exactly what he was doing.
He had even appeared around Aurora during the holidays, seeming unperturbed by her presence now that she knew of his existence. Her friend had said nothing, but Ginny knew the older girl was terrified. His voice followed Ginny everywhere and she didn’t know how much longer she could handle it. This, however, was the first time Adrian had seen him.
Adrian rushed forward, thumping the book shut and Tom disappeared. Ginny was suddenly overcome with the irrational need to shout and scream at her friend for taking Tom away, but it passed quickly.
“You have to get rid of it,” Adrian said determinedly. “You have got to get rid of it. Throw it away, put it somewhere no one will ever find it, or give it to some unsuspecting Hufflepuff for all I care, but get rid of it.”
Ginny nodded shakily. “I don’t know where to put it.”
“I know somewhere,” Aurora said and Adrian picked up the book.
“Now?” Ginny asked, alarmed. “Why do we have to take it now? Why can’t it wait? It’s really late and-”
“And you’re getting sucked in too far, Ginny. No, it has to be done now.”
She nodded slowly, knowing that he was right. “Okay,” she said softly, turning to Aurora. “Show me where to go.”
“To hell with that,” Aurora said, walking to the door. “We’re coming with you.”
Excerpt from the Diary of Sarah Sheppard, part of the Five Ways the World Ends 'verse. Stargate Atlantis.
It wasn’t always bad, you know. I sometimes wonder if I ever really knew how lucky I was before. I don’t think I did. To be honest, I’m not sure why I brought this with me. I can’t even remember having the semblance of mind to think of actually picking it up. Actually, I know I didn’t. I’m pretty sure Jason must have brought it with us and put it in my bag when I wasn’t looking. He’s good like that.
I’ve read it over so many times and I barely recognise the little girl within these pages. I can remember what she looked like, I can remember the sheer joy she felt the first time she ‘spoke’ to Atlantis, but I can’t remember what it felt like to be that happy and safe. Even when I was annoyed, or upset, I was safe.
I’d give anything to turn back the clock and spend just one hour in that life again. Happy and safe and with my family.
I wish I knew that David and Evie were okay. I wish I could pretend that Mom and Dad made it out of the City alive…part of me just knows that they did, but the rest of me (the jaded part, if you listen to Jason) knows the chances. I guess I’ll just have to pray that they beat the odds again. It’s a family tradition.
I know that Miko will look after the kids, but that didn’t make it any easier to say good bye. For so long it was just me and Jase looking after them while the ‘adults’ tried to keep everything together and keep us all alive. But it was the right choice to leave them with Miko…and I guess they’re not so little anymore. They were the first ones out of the city and I really hope that Mom was able to find Laura and little Ash and Sean, because I’ve never seen Carson looking so distraught before. I didn’t like it.
Right now we’re setting up camp. Or, rather, it’s just been set up. This is the third time we’ve moved in a week, but they keep finding us. I spend every moment listening as intently as I can, but it doesn’t matter, because I don’t think I’ll ever stop hearing that clicking until the day I die.
I’m just lucky I still have Jason by my side. I don’t think I could do this without him.
Skies Are Blue, Gilmore Girls ...from some random chapter in the future...
"I am going to kiss you, Rory Gilmore," he said softly and he could hear her breath hitch in her throat. Slowly she moved closer, tilting her head upwards slightly and he couldn't believe what he was about to do. "I'm going to kiss you, but not here and not right now." She tried to pull away, but he gripped her arms tightly. "I'll kiss you when you're ready to realise that I'm not making this a choice between a relationship and not having me in your life, but a real choice...I'm not going anywhere, Mary, and I'm not going to push you into anything you're not ready for. And you're not ready for this. Maybe you never will be. But I'll wait. I want you, Rory. Only you. And when I'm all you want, when I'm all you think about, when I'm all you crave, then...then I'll kiss you."
He gazed into her eyes for a moment longer before abruptly letting her go and turning away from her. He walked slowly and steadily back towards his car, refusing to let himself turn back to look at her, because one look into those eyes and he wouldn't be able to stop himself. But he had to, because she wasn't ready and he didn't want to be second choice. Call him selfish, but when he had Rory Gilmore, he wanted all of her. There was no room to share.
Lullaby Lost, Doctor Who (this will be getting re-written and fleshed out, hence why it's a WiP
“Human, you said.”
“Well, mostly human.”
“They tried to eat us.” She glares at him.
“That was a misunderstanding. A couple of billion years of evolution, Rose, you can’t expect everything to be the same,” he says, shaking his head and she wonders if he knows how stupid that tone of voice makes her feel sometimes. She wonders if he even registers that he was flirting with the High Priestess right in front of her. Men, she thinks, are the one thing that won’t change with either evolution or race.
Every Little Thing She Does is Magic, Chapter 6, Harry Potter
(You might think excerpt a bit dull, but the idea fascinated me! *g*)
"The use of a word is really not that important," Hermione began, hoping that the fixed gazes remained such as they were throughout the lesson. "It is the structure of a spell that is important."
"If that's the case," Serena Jenkins asked, "then why do we use any word, never mind a Latin one."
"Simple," Hermione began, a small smile on her face. "The use of a word that you don't understand causes you to focus everything into what you're doing. The more concentration you use in a spell, the more likely it is to work. Think about it," she said, reaching her desk and leaning back against it, "if the magic came from the word, then Muggles would be able to use magic just like us, but the magic comes from inside us, all we have to do is focus it. The use of a word and the use of a wand helps us do that.”
“Then why do spells work when you don’t know what they do?” Serena asked again, with a small glare. Clearly the girl didn’t like to find out she was wrong.
“Because the creator of the spell infuses the magic within its meaning. Were I to choose any word now, design the spell, and infuse it, the word would become magical whenever someone else added magic to it by casting it.”
“Anywhere in the world?”
“Anywhere in the world, Mister Fletcher.” Hermione smiled at the class. They were actually taking everything in. It wasn’t what she had planned on teaching them today, but it was something they needed to know eventually and, besides, they were still learning.
“So if you were to choose any word,” the small boy to her left asked and it took her a moment to place his name; Jordan Brown, Lavender’s younger brother. “Even something like ‘smelly’ and then constructed a spell that made someone dance naked through the streets, it would work whenever someone held out their wand and shouted ‘smelly’?”
Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Boys. “Yes, Mister Brown, it would. However, spell construction that imposes your will onto someone is a difficult, long and tedious task. It would take months of careful planning, constructing, magical-mathematics and number calibration to actually made it work, not to mention a lot if Will-Power Magic, which,” she said, turning to the brunette in front of her, “Miss Jenkins, we will not be learning properly until at least fifth year.” The girl closed her mouth with an audible click of teeth and Hermione continued answering the question. “By the time you had reached that stage, Mister Fletcher, you would likely be so irritated that you’d wasted your time on something so fickle, that you wouldn’t bother with the rest of the work.”
“The rest of the work?”
“Yes, Miss Connor, there’s more. The actual act of infusing a spell into a word takes power and concentration and time. A person can take months to construct a single spell into a word.”
“Then how was magic discovered and how are spells so easy?” asked a timid boy in the back of the room. Hermione glanced at him, identified him as Peter Phillips, and wondered if all her classes were likely to go as off topic as this one.
“Magic is inherent in the being, Mister Phillips. Magic comes from inside you. You could use it without the training and spells you learn, but you wouldn’t be able to control it properly. Powerful Wizards broke it down, studied it, and decided that the best way to communicate it was through spoken word. But deaf and mute Wizards do exist and they learn a completely different style of magic, usually they start to immediately focus on Mind Magic and often Wandless magic, which you will learn in Seventh Year. The Magical tribes in Africa use both Rhythm and Dance Magic, the Ancient Egyptians used Written Magic and Celestial Magic, as well as the spoken word.
“There are multitudes of ways to use your gift, but you couldn’t possibly learn them all if you had a thousand years to study them. Ways of Magic have been lost and some are incredibly well guarded, to the point that you couldn’t hope to find anyone to teach you.”
“Why do we use Spoken Magic?” Felicity Jenners, a small Hufflepuff girl, asked with a frown.
“The civilisation we live in simply evolved with it as a preference. We chose the spoken word as our preferred form. It’s the simplest and most accessible, not to mention that it was decided to be the most ‘civilised’ choice. After all, could you picture the Minister of Magic dancing to the beat of a drum whenever he wished to cast a spell?”
Just Rodney, from the Five Ways the World Ends 'verse (set when Sarah's about twelve, Jason's eleven). Stargate Atlantis.
“Why don’t you call Doctor McKay ‘Uncle Rodney’?”
She looked at him as if he’d just grown a second head. “What kind of a question is that?”
“Well, he’s your dad’s best friend and you call everyone else apart from Ronon and Reya ‘Aunt’ or ‘Uncle’, but you’ve never called Doctor McKay ‘Uncle Rodney’,” he said with a shrug. “I just wondered why.”
“You don’t call him ‘Uncle Rodney’,” she shot back and his eyes widened in alarm.
“Because he’s terrifying. And mean.”
“He’s not mean, he just has no tolerance for stupidity,” she said smugly.
“Then I’m really confused now; why does he tolerate you?”
Jason leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “Look, it was just a question, there’s not need to get snippy.”
“Yeah, well there was no need for you to get defensive, Jase.”
Sarah sighed and offered him a piece of sweet corral. He looked at it in disgust and she rolled her eyes, pulled off the piece of lint (or it might have been a hair), and offered it to him again. When he shook his head, she shrugged and popped it in her mouth.
“Rodney’s…he’s dad’s best friend,” she said with a shrug. “Dad bugs the crap out of him most of the time-”
“So do you.”
She glared, but continued, “but they know each other better than anyone and…well, I’m a bit like my dad,” Jason snorted and she smiled. “Okay, so I’m a lot like my dad, but he still tells me to get the hell out of his way.”
“Yeah, but you don’t do it.”
She shrugged. “So.”
“Brianne’s still terrified of him and she’s his student!”
“You’d like him if you ever stopped running away from him, you know. You always like reading my presents from him. And speaking of, I want my chip on black holes back sometime this month.”
“See, that’s another thing,” he said, ignoring her statement about returning her book. “He doesn’t buy anyone else presents. Not even your brother and sister.”
“Not true, he gives them stuff.”
“That they can use?”
“David only electrocuted himself that one time and it was his own fault for sticking his finger in that hole.”
“Even your dad went mental.”
“Actually, Dad laughed and Mom went off on him, that’s why he went mental. Besides, it was just David being stupid.”
“You’re a little too hard on him, you know. Just because you got the gene from your dad doesn’t mean you can be nasty to those of us who don’t.”
“When did this become about the gene?”
Jason shrugged. “I’m just saying. It’s hard enough not having it, but when the only reason your dad’s even here is because he was able to use it so much and your big sister’s managed to freak the entire City out by waving her hand at the Stargate and playing multi-planet-hide-and-seek since she was three, I think it must be a bit harder.”
“At least he doesn’t have all the stupid science geeks coming up and asking if they can use him as a lab rat for their school project.”
Jason snorted. “That only happened once and, given the black eye Mikus was sporting for about a week, I can’t see it happening again.”
I'm Shagging Who?, part 2, Harry Potter...eh...crack fic? The characters discover the joys of fanfic...
"Where's Percy?" Ron asked, trying to change the subject and refrain from punching the blond next to him.
"He's locked himself in that room," George said, aimlessly waving his hand in the direction of a small door to Ron's right as he settled back to read A Night in Paris, noting that his twin was also reading a fic where he had Hermione in the starring role. Something about the bookishness, he decided.
"What's he doing?" Ron asked, but George ignored him and allowed his twin to answer.
"Oh, he discovered the joy that is smut. He hasn't come out of in over an hour, and judging by the noises-"
"Fred!" Ginny cried, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "That's almost as creepy as the Dumbledore/Umbridge/Harry fic I just threw out."
"And there goes my lunch." Draco handed Harry his wand. "Please. Obliviate me. Now."
"Me first." Harry said before shaking his head and turning back to his fic. He frowned and grunted. "Why is it," he asked Draco, distracting the blond from his disturbing thoughts, "that when we're together, I'm always completely gay, but you get to be bi?"
Draco shrugged. "You're my bitch."
"Given that you tend to be the girl most of the time, I don't see how."
"How am I the woman?"
"Ooh, don't touch my hair! I bruise easily! I'm just a poor, mis-understood son of a Death Eater, pity me! Oh, not the face! What did I say? Don't touch the hair! I'm - ouch, Draco, that hurt!"
Falling in Shadows, Harry Potter, as yet unposted.
"Hey, Harry, wait up!"
"What does he want?" Ron muttered, glaring as he turned to face the dark haired boy walking towards them.
"Be nice," Harry said lightly, unable to hold in the slight smile on his features. He shook his head, ignoring that both Ron and Hermione were tight lipped and not all that willing to be pleasant. He sighed, his smile only returning when his friend reached them.
"Can we talk," Blaise said with a quick glance at Ron and Hermione.
"Of course," Harry answered instantly.
Before Ron or Hermione could reply Harry turned to face them. "You go on ahead; I'll meet you in the Common Room."
"Harry, you can't be-"
"Leave it, Ron." Hermione's tone was so defeated that Harry felt an almost tangible stab of pain. He hated that his friends were treating him this way; as if he was a child that didn't know what he was doing, but unable to do anything but stand by and watch.
His face closed as Hermione sent him a 'be careful' look. He didn't want to acknowledge the intent behind it. He knew what he was doing. He only wished his friends weren't so blind to the truth. He watched them walk towards the stairs that led to Gryffindor tower and, when they had disappeared at the top, he turned back to Blaise.
"Wow, I'm actually amazed by the love they send my way," his friend said flippantly and Harry chuckled softly. At least Blaise didn't let it get to him, or at least he was better at hiding it than Harry was. Well, he supposed, they weren't supposed to be Blaise’s best friends.
"You can't expect them to forgive the last six years, Harry."
"I have," he replied instantly. "Besides, what have you ever done to them?"
Blaise smirked. "You want me to answer that?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "So what did you want me for?"
"Sex," Blaise replied deadpan, his mouth twitching at the gasps he heard behind him.
Harry groaned. "I wish you wouldn't do that," he said with a sigh as the group of first years hurried off, whispering with each other. "It's bad enough that the school thinks we're at it without you confirming the fact."
"Harry, Harry, Harry," Blaise said, shaking his head and placing a hand on Harry's shoulders. He began to lead them towards the dungeons. "Someday you'll realise that it's best to fuel rumours than deny them. Denying them only makes them get worse."
"And announcing to a group of Hufflepuff first years that we're having sex will make the rumours stop?"
"They were Hufflepuffs?"
Harry nodded. "Yes, they were. Meaning it'll be around the school by dinner time."
Blaise looked uncomfortable for a minute before shrugging. "So long as you tell them I'm a tiger in the sack, no harm done."
Harry tried to look indignant for a moment, but he couldn't hold back his laughter for long. "What do you want?" he asked, amidst his laughter.
Noting the sudden change in his friend's demeanour, Harry's laughter tapered off. He was annoyed with himself for not noticing that the banter Blaise had employed had been a stalling device. He nodded and followed his friend down the familiar corridors towards the Slytherin Dungeons.
Full Circle, Angel/Buffy/WWE xover
[Cordelia] moved quickly into the main entrance of the Hyperion to find five men and one woman looking around uncomfortably.
“Hi, can I-”
“Hey, Cordy,” the man at the front of the group said, with a tentative smile.
“Christian?” She broke into a huge grin and squealed. “Oh, my God! How are you?” She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Pulling back she grinned up at him. “You look great! How are you?” Before he had the chance to answer her, her gaze fell on one of the other men. “Oh, my God, you spoke to your brother.”
“Oh, Chris, I’m so happy for you. I told you that he’d understand. That thing with Gangrel was just awful, wasn’t it?” she said to Edge, not noticing his confusion. “I mean, I know he was just trying to protect you and all-”
“-but we kept telling him to just talk to you, especially Lilian, but would he listen? No. Well, I’m glad you guys have talked it out-”
“Cordy!” Christian closed his eyes and took a deep breath as Cordelia frowned at him. “Remember that thing we practiced where you stopped talking?”
“Oh…I’m guessing I should take my big foot out of my mouth, huh?”
“That might take surgery,” Christian said with a sigh and she smiled apologetically. “Are Angel or Doyle around?”
“Oh…erm, Angel is out and…Chris, Doyle…Doyle’s dead.”
“Oh, God, Cordy, I’m so sorry.” He pulled her into another hug and she rested her head against his shoulder.
“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. He was a hero, you know," she said, smiling sadly. "He saved us all.”
Christian pulled back and looked at her. “I get the feeling, given what you do, that when you say he saved us all, you likely mean the whole world.”
Cordelia laughed. “It’s never simple with us, is it?” He shook his head and she sighed. “How are you, Christian? Really?”
“I’m…well, I’m here.”
“Ah. As much as I’d like to think you came for a social visit, I’m guessing not.” He shook her head and she frowned. “Christian? I’m hoping this doesn’t get the same response as your query about Doyle, but…where’s Lilian?”
“That’s why we’re here, Cor. Lilian’s gone.”
All to Survive, part three, WWE
A loud bang echoed suddenly through the air, reverberating around her in the enclosed ruins she had sheltered under. Part of the building shook before pain lanced through her right leg as it began to fall. She jumped and her hand brushed against the one thing she had been avoiding thinking about. Her fingers got caught in course hair as she tried to pull her hands away. She tugged again, bile rising in her throat as her pain subsided and visions filled her mind.
Was he a doctor? Was she a Lawyer? Was he happy? Was she content? Was she a mother? Did he have a family? Did they see it coming?
By the time she had freed her hand, tears were coursing down her face as she bit back harsh sobs. Visions filled her mind stronger than before and she knew that it had been a man. He had long brown hair, striking blue eyes, and he had been happy. He had a bright yellow electric guitar and a five year old daughter called Melissa that adored him. She lived with her mother in the next state. He hadn’t seen her before he died.
She no longer questioned how she knew these things. She did. Since the disaster they had only grown in strength and she hated it. Hated that she could see what had been and what could have been.
Melissa would have been an artist, struggling but happy. She would marry one of her father’s friends, a man a lot older than her, but they would have been happy. Three children. A dog. A house in the country. Estranged from her parents for a long time but reunited through her battle against cancer. She would have won. She was-
The harsh voice jerked her from her vision and she swiped at her eyes as she glanced around her. There was a sliver of light to her left and she could see his outline encased with light. He was anything but an angel; cutting, quiet, severe, hard, but, at that moment, he looked almost ethereal.
“M-my leg,” she stammered and he nodded, working his way under and next to her.
“Grit your teeth.”
She nodded. He was going to get her out. The fear subsided. There was something in his eyes that, whilst not warm or friendly, made her feel eternally safe.
She barely stopped herself from crying out as he pulled her leg free. It didn’t feel broken, but the skin was likely slashed open and bruised. The pain caused her eyesight, such as it was in the dim light, to waver and she suddenly felt light headed.
He carefully dragged her out from her hiding place, quickly and efficiently. She didn’t know how he had scared Them away, but she knew they would be back and in bigger numbers. He pulled her into his arms and she hissed as the cut at the back of her right calf rubbed against his shirtsleeve.
Looking up, she studied his face for a moment. He caught her gaze and she smiled slightly. “Thank you,” she said softly. No one was supposed to break their group rules. No one was supposed to leave the other two alone in their chosen home, whatever it was at the time. But he had. He had saved her. “Thank you, Chris.”
He nodded and, for a brief moment, there was a light in Chris Jericho’s eyes that hadn’t been there in a long time.
...and that's not them all...revivingophelia, I think it would take you a