WIP Meme
Post an excerpt from every WIP you have at the moment.
Ehe, considering I have like 938294 works in progress...I'm just gunna post from the main ones right now. Which will probably still be way too many for your friends page so...I'll throw them under a cut lol Feel free to steal and do yours too!!
Title: The Twelve Very Different, Rather Unique Dancing Princesses
Fandom: Based on the Brothers Grimm fairytale
Main Characters: All 12 princesses
The royal family resided in an ancient castle that sat proudly on the easternmost hill above the most beautiful valley in the kingdom. It was opposite of this castle that the Western Wood flourished. Few dared to venture through it for fear of Ursula. Legends of her evil doings spanned generations before Viktoria had ever been thought of. Some said the wolves that stalked the forest were her personal guard. Others whispered that she could separate her body from her soul. Some even believed her unnatural longevity had been bought from the Devil himself with the blood of children. For the first time in her life, Viktoria wished with her whole being that the stories were true.
For a moment Ursula regarded the princess with narrow, furious eyes. How dare she trespass on the territory of the Great Witch. Blue blooded or not, this girl would pay for her idiocy one way or another. Thankfully for Viktoria she had brought a universally accepted peace offering. The sight of the coin purse calmed Ursula just enough to allow the girl free speech.
“What is it you seek?”
Her voice was like a snake bathed in oil. Ripples of fear ran through the princess, but she was no stranger to adversity. Picturing her father’s cold, black gaze, her strength returned and her purpose held steadfast within her like the arrow of a compass.
“I wish for my father, the King, to fear me. I wish to hold my own happiness over his head. I wish for his Majesty to worry on my behalf. I wish to be free.”
“Is that all?” Ursula asked, though the sarcasm was lost on Viktoria. While a wide smile was stretched across her wrinkled face, inwardly the witch was rolling her eyes. There was little she hated more than a spoiled brat of beauty and privilege. In fact, the only thing she hated more was the King. It was for this reason alone that she agreed to do as Viktoria begged.
~~~
Title: Alis Volat Propiis (She Flies With Her Own Wings)
Fandom: Merlin
Main Characters: Morgana
When Gwen’s mother dies unexpectedly from disease, Morgana cries with her daughter all night long. They hold each other by the fire and barely speak a word for the flood of tears that starts every time they try. Not three weeks later, Morgana’s monthly cycles begin and she has never felt more alone. Gwen promises it’s perfectly normal, that the blood is a part of it and that the pain is only temporary. Clenching her teeth, Morgana nods and tries not to cry.
Curled up on her side for four full days, only growing paler with each sunrise, she begins to wonder if she’s dying. No one ever told her it would hurt this much, that the smell of the blood would unsettle her stomach into sickness, that she would feel so insufferably tired. Though Gaius concocts a number of potions for her to take, they don’t always work and often only put to rest one symptom of the cycle at a time. She lays in bed, whimpering, her hair thick with sweat as she tosses and turns across the pillows, begging God to help her. She is his loyal and faithful servant, she loves him with her whole heart, why won’t he help her? Please, she cries, why do you cause me to suffer? Out of desperation, she begins to strike bargains, promising perfect behavior and acts of piety in return for this hell to end. But the pain wears on.
When the blood, aching and delirium finally take their leave, she is happy to be able to take dinner with Uther again after three night’s absence. Though he allows her to dine with him and the Prince, he explains to her that sloth is a sin and that in the future she is to handle whatever God chooses to put upon her with all the grace expected of a royal. He does not say it explicitly for the sake of his son’s ears, but she understands perfectly. Cycle or no cycle, she cannot make her pain so outwardly obvious. She must carry on with her duties regardless because the world of men does not have time for the weaknesses of women. When she returns to her chambers that night, she screams into the pillows before crying herself to sleep, wishing with every fiber of being that her mother were still alive. That is when the distrust starts to set in.
~~~
Title: Leave Out All the Rest
Fandon: Band of Brothers
Pairing: Liebgott/OFC
The next morning he’s off to duty like nothing happened. Like it was just a thunderstorm that came and went in the night. The closest we come to the truth of the situation is the moment he’s leaving the bathroom. I’d been leaning in the doorway watching him brush his teeth, shave, wash his face, comb his hair. Neither of us say anything because we don’t really want to. We both just want to feel the other as close as possible before going our separate ways for the day. But as he finishes getting ready, I don’t budge from the doorway and he just looks down at me, the smallest vestiges of vulnerability lining his tired eyes. Laying a hand on my waist, he backs me up against the doorframe and kisses me slowly. There isn’t much of the usual hungry passion there, just understanding. Almost like this is his way of saying thank you. Knowing Joe, it probably is.
We stand like that for another second or two, just watching each other before he pecks my mouth one last time, grabs his jacket and leaves. I shouldn’t just be doddling around like a little kid who’s lost their mother. I’m scheduled to be at work in forty minutes. But after he walks out I feel stuck in place between the bathroom and the bedroom. One move in any direction feels like a move away from last night. And I know that whatever we started dealing with is far from over.
But it’s not like we’re the only ones trying to reconcile what we’ve seen with our beliefs, with all we thought we knew. If every soldier and nurse took the time they needed to get their shit together, there probably wouldn’t be anyone left on the entire base. Picking up a towel from the floor of the closet, I head into the bathroom for a quick shower. Maybe when I come out I can pretend last night was just a dream and the image of Joey breaking into pieces won’t haunt me for the rest of the day. Maybe.
~~~
Title: Bursts of Light
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Reid/OFC
Reading is so different for Abby, he can’t help being distracted by her when she has a stack of essays to grade. Her eyes move so slow, sometimes going back over the same sentence a dozen times, each scan a fraction slower than the last. He wonders what her brain is trying to process, why it’s not sticking, what she’s trying to sort out. Did the student make an error? Or is she just ready to pass out? Probably both.
Bags are trying to pull down the skin beneath her eyes, and her eyelids keep slipping in the same direction. But she’s persistent. In school, Reid’s professors always stressed that it was important to take short, frequent breaks whenever focus strayed out of reach. The minute you have serious trouble concentrating is supposed to be the minute in which you put down whatever your doing and walk away. Obviously, Abby never had those professors. She works and works and works until she can barely speak and then she pops a caffeine pill and gets back to work.
He hates to see her so worn down, but he’s kind of fond of the way her eyes seem to swell when she finally looks up and meets his gaze. The tired way she crawls into his lap and curls her fingers agaisnt his chest, letting him know without a sound that it’s finally time for bed. The kisses are better when she’s like this too because she curls in close and holds on like he’s a life preserver, like he’s her safety rope. He can feel it in the gentle pull of her mouth as it gives up whatever tiny bits of fight are left deep down inside of her. He knows she’s suffering, but there’s always a smile on his mouth on those nights. When she feels it, her fingers reach up to comb through his hair, resting along the warm skin on the back of his neck as she keeps him as close as humanly possible. Sometimes he wishes he could get her closer, scoop her up and keep her safe inside of his ribcage. But this is good too.
~~~
Title: Wings
Fandom: Green Street Hooligans (based strictly on the first one)
Pairing: Dave/OFC
His wife is pretty, I guess. In the conventional sense. She’s thin and has a nice nose. I’ve seen the pictures of her he still keeps in his wallet. He was asleep and I’d been bored, waiting for the water in the shower to heat up. I still wonder if his love for her had made her seem more beautiful to him or if he’d just figured she was as good as it would get. With the way he’d get down on himself sometimes, my gut told me it was the latter and that kind of made me mad. Standing under the shower head soaping up my hair, I wished I could go back in time and run down the aisle as the priest asked for objections. I’d push Theresa out of his arms and tell him that he deserved so much better and kiss him in front of the entire congregation.
That was the morning I realized I was in love with Dave Miller.
~~~
Title: None, yet
Fandom: Band of Brothers
Pairing: Roe/OFC
There was one kid though who’s southern drawl never made me laugh. I remember the first time I heard him speak up in class like it was just a few minutes ago. I probably always will.
Heat was wafting through the open windows in waves so thick you could almost see it. The heaviness of it and the scent of freshly cut grass was pulling us all away from consciousness. No one had the slightest idea what our teacher was saying, let alone what page we were supposed to be on in the text book. The only thought that filled my head was that of laying in my back yard, the sun melting into my pores as clouds drifted lazily above me. I didn’t even realize my eyelids had already drooped down until Mrs. McCall’s voice mingled into the background on a gentle breeze and then…
“I hadn’t had a bite to eat since yesterday, so Jim he got out some corn-dodgers and buttermilk, and pork and cabbage and greens-there ain’t nothing in the world so good when it’s cooked right-and whilst I eat my supper we talked and had a good time. . . .” This voice wasn’t muddled or fuzzy. It seemed to fit in perfectly with the blinding white heat of my daydreams. With the magic. “We said there warn’t no home like a raft, after all. Other places do seem so cramped up and smothery, but a raft don’t. You feel mighty free and easy and comfortable on a raft.”
The words were out of the book our class was supposed to be taking turns reading, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. With no real place to call home and a head full of mischief, I kind of related to Huck. I didn’t like the book too much, probably just because I wasn’t really one for words in the first place. But Huck, he was okay. He sounded even better being channeled through Eugene.
The force of curiosity had tugged me away from my daydream just in time to realize that that was who had been speaking. Third row, second seat back. He didn’t talk much either and between the two of us we’d never had an actual conversation. But now, after hearing that nonsensical little twist in his accent, I kind of wished we had.
When his turn was over, Mrs. McCall started chattering on excitedly with her chalk about symbolism and commentaries on society. I wondered how anyone could ask Eugene to stop talking.
~~~
Title: A Brightness in the Valley
Fandom: Band of Brothers (yeah…I know lol it’s getting a little repetitive)
Pairing: Tab/OFC, Luz/OFC
It’s kind of weird the way this kid is always watching me. Every little move I make seems to put him on red alert. One day, I’m so thirsty I could cry. All I want is a god damn drink of water. It should be a two minute ordeal, tops. Get up, grab a glass, hit up the sink, go sit back down. Instead, I stay stock still for at least forty of the longest minutes of my life. I know if I get up he’ll be out there, if I take one step beyond the threshold of my bedroom he’ll be staring the entire time. Which probably wouldn’t be so awful to endure if he didn’t have the tired, wounded eyes of a soldier.
Finally, I force myself to get up. Staring at the door for a long, drawn out moment, I put on my big girl panties and reach out for the knob.
He’s out there alright. I don’t mean to stare at him like he’s lost his fucking mind, but I didn’t exactly expect to see mine and Taylor’s entire DVD collection spread out around him like a fort. With his legs crossed Indian style on the carpet, his eyes are studying the back cover of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. But not for long.
Forcing a smile, I give up a little awkward wave and try to keep moving on as though it is completely normal to have twenty-three year old World War 2 vets sitting on your living room floor. My steps take me to the kitchen cabinets and, even though we should theoretically be facing opposite sides of the apartment, I can feel his eyes charring me to a crisp as I reach up on my toes for a glass. Or maybe that’s just my body’s natural reaction to his presence. And the fact that we’re alone in the apartment because Taylor took the Scruffy One shopping.
Ehe, considering I have like 938294 works in progress...I'm just gunna post from the main ones right now. Which will probably still be way too many for your friends page so...I'll throw them under a cut lol Feel free to steal and do yours too!!
Title: The Twelve Very Different, Rather Unique Dancing Princesses
Fandom: Based on the Brothers Grimm fairytale
Main Characters: All 12 princesses
The royal family resided in an ancient castle that sat proudly on the easternmost hill above the most beautiful valley in the kingdom. It was opposite of this castle that the Western Wood flourished. Few dared to venture through it for fear of Ursula. Legends of her evil doings spanned generations before Viktoria had ever been thought of. Some said the wolves that stalked the forest were her personal guard. Others whispered that she could separate her body from her soul. Some even believed her unnatural longevity had been bought from the Devil himself with the blood of children. For the first time in her life, Viktoria wished with her whole being that the stories were true.
For a moment Ursula regarded the princess with narrow, furious eyes. How dare she trespass on the territory of the Great Witch. Blue blooded or not, this girl would pay for her idiocy one way or another. Thankfully for Viktoria she had brought a universally accepted peace offering. The sight of the coin purse calmed Ursula just enough to allow the girl free speech.
“What is it you seek?”
Her voice was like a snake bathed in oil. Ripples of fear ran through the princess, but she was no stranger to adversity. Picturing her father’s cold, black gaze, her strength returned and her purpose held steadfast within her like the arrow of a compass.
“I wish for my father, the King, to fear me. I wish to hold my own happiness over his head. I wish for his Majesty to worry on my behalf. I wish to be free.”
“Is that all?” Ursula asked, though the sarcasm was lost on Viktoria. While a wide smile was stretched across her wrinkled face, inwardly the witch was rolling her eyes. There was little she hated more than a spoiled brat of beauty and privilege. In fact, the only thing she hated more was the King. It was for this reason alone that she agreed to do as Viktoria begged.
~~~
Title: Alis Volat Propiis (She Flies With Her Own Wings)
Fandom: Merlin
Main Characters: Morgana
When Gwen’s mother dies unexpectedly from disease, Morgana cries with her daughter all night long. They hold each other by the fire and barely speak a word for the flood of tears that starts every time they try. Not three weeks later, Morgana’s monthly cycles begin and she has never felt more alone. Gwen promises it’s perfectly normal, that the blood is a part of it and that the pain is only temporary. Clenching her teeth, Morgana nods and tries not to cry.
Curled up on her side for four full days, only growing paler with each sunrise, she begins to wonder if she’s dying. No one ever told her it would hurt this much, that the smell of the blood would unsettle her stomach into sickness, that she would feel so insufferably tired. Though Gaius concocts a number of potions for her to take, they don’t always work and often only put to rest one symptom of the cycle at a time. She lays in bed, whimpering, her hair thick with sweat as she tosses and turns across the pillows, begging God to help her. She is his loyal and faithful servant, she loves him with her whole heart, why won’t he help her? Please, she cries, why do you cause me to suffer? Out of desperation, she begins to strike bargains, promising perfect behavior and acts of piety in return for this hell to end. But the pain wears on.
When the blood, aching and delirium finally take their leave, she is happy to be able to take dinner with Uther again after three night’s absence. Though he allows her to dine with him and the Prince, he explains to her that sloth is a sin and that in the future she is to handle whatever God chooses to put upon her with all the grace expected of a royal. He does not say it explicitly for the sake of his son’s ears, but she understands perfectly. Cycle or no cycle, she cannot make her pain so outwardly obvious. She must carry on with her duties regardless because the world of men does not have time for the weaknesses of women. When she returns to her chambers that night, she screams into the pillows before crying herself to sleep, wishing with every fiber of being that her mother were still alive. That is when the distrust starts to set in.
~~~
Title: Leave Out All the Rest
Fandon: Band of Brothers
Pairing: Liebgott/OFC
The next morning he’s off to duty like nothing happened. Like it was just a thunderstorm that came and went in the night. The closest we come to the truth of the situation is the moment he’s leaving the bathroom. I’d been leaning in the doorway watching him brush his teeth, shave, wash his face, comb his hair. Neither of us say anything because we don’t really want to. We both just want to feel the other as close as possible before going our separate ways for the day. But as he finishes getting ready, I don’t budge from the doorway and he just looks down at me, the smallest vestiges of vulnerability lining his tired eyes. Laying a hand on my waist, he backs me up against the doorframe and kisses me slowly. There isn’t much of the usual hungry passion there, just understanding. Almost like this is his way of saying thank you. Knowing Joe, it probably is.
We stand like that for another second or two, just watching each other before he pecks my mouth one last time, grabs his jacket and leaves. I shouldn’t just be doddling around like a little kid who’s lost their mother. I’m scheduled to be at work in forty minutes. But after he walks out I feel stuck in place between the bathroom and the bedroom. One move in any direction feels like a move away from last night. And I know that whatever we started dealing with is far from over.
But it’s not like we’re the only ones trying to reconcile what we’ve seen with our beliefs, with all we thought we knew. If every soldier and nurse took the time they needed to get their shit together, there probably wouldn’t be anyone left on the entire base. Picking up a towel from the floor of the closet, I head into the bathroom for a quick shower. Maybe when I come out I can pretend last night was just a dream and the image of Joey breaking into pieces won’t haunt me for the rest of the day. Maybe.
~~~
Title: Bursts of Light
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Reid/OFC
Reading is so different for Abby, he can’t help being distracted by her when she has a stack of essays to grade. Her eyes move so slow, sometimes going back over the same sentence a dozen times, each scan a fraction slower than the last. He wonders what her brain is trying to process, why it’s not sticking, what she’s trying to sort out. Did the student make an error? Or is she just ready to pass out? Probably both.
Bags are trying to pull down the skin beneath her eyes, and her eyelids keep slipping in the same direction. But she’s persistent. In school, Reid’s professors always stressed that it was important to take short, frequent breaks whenever focus strayed out of reach. The minute you have serious trouble concentrating is supposed to be the minute in which you put down whatever your doing and walk away. Obviously, Abby never had those professors. She works and works and works until she can barely speak and then she pops a caffeine pill and gets back to work.
He hates to see her so worn down, but he’s kind of fond of the way her eyes seem to swell when she finally looks up and meets his gaze. The tired way she crawls into his lap and curls her fingers agaisnt his chest, letting him know without a sound that it’s finally time for bed. The kisses are better when she’s like this too because she curls in close and holds on like he’s a life preserver, like he’s her safety rope. He can feel it in the gentle pull of her mouth as it gives up whatever tiny bits of fight are left deep down inside of her. He knows she’s suffering, but there’s always a smile on his mouth on those nights. When she feels it, her fingers reach up to comb through his hair, resting along the warm skin on the back of his neck as she keeps him as close as humanly possible. Sometimes he wishes he could get her closer, scoop her up and keep her safe inside of his ribcage. But this is good too.
~~~
Title: Wings
Fandom: Green Street Hooligans (based strictly on the first one)
Pairing: Dave/OFC
His wife is pretty, I guess. In the conventional sense. She’s thin and has a nice nose. I’ve seen the pictures of her he still keeps in his wallet. He was asleep and I’d been bored, waiting for the water in the shower to heat up. I still wonder if his love for her had made her seem more beautiful to him or if he’d just figured she was as good as it would get. With the way he’d get down on himself sometimes, my gut told me it was the latter and that kind of made me mad. Standing under the shower head soaping up my hair, I wished I could go back in time and run down the aisle as the priest asked for objections. I’d push Theresa out of his arms and tell him that he deserved so much better and kiss him in front of the entire congregation.
That was the morning I realized I was in love with Dave Miller.
~~~
Title: None, yet
Fandom: Band of Brothers
Pairing: Roe/OFC
There was one kid though who’s southern drawl never made me laugh. I remember the first time I heard him speak up in class like it was just a few minutes ago. I probably always will.
Heat was wafting through the open windows in waves so thick you could almost see it. The heaviness of it and the scent of freshly cut grass was pulling us all away from consciousness. No one had the slightest idea what our teacher was saying, let alone what page we were supposed to be on in the text book. The only thought that filled my head was that of laying in my back yard, the sun melting into my pores as clouds drifted lazily above me. I didn’t even realize my eyelids had already drooped down until Mrs. McCall’s voice mingled into the background on a gentle breeze and then…
“I hadn’t had a bite to eat since yesterday, so Jim he got out some corn-dodgers and buttermilk, and pork and cabbage and greens-there ain’t nothing in the world so good when it’s cooked right-and whilst I eat my supper we talked and had a good time. . . .” This voice wasn’t muddled or fuzzy. It seemed to fit in perfectly with the blinding white heat of my daydreams. With the magic. “We said there warn’t no home like a raft, after all. Other places do seem so cramped up and smothery, but a raft don’t. You feel mighty free and easy and comfortable on a raft.”
The words were out of the book our class was supposed to be taking turns reading, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. With no real place to call home and a head full of mischief, I kind of related to Huck. I didn’t like the book too much, probably just because I wasn’t really one for words in the first place. But Huck, he was okay. He sounded even better being channeled through Eugene.
The force of curiosity had tugged me away from my daydream just in time to realize that that was who had been speaking. Third row, second seat back. He didn’t talk much either and between the two of us we’d never had an actual conversation. But now, after hearing that nonsensical little twist in his accent, I kind of wished we had.
When his turn was over, Mrs. McCall started chattering on excitedly with her chalk about symbolism and commentaries on society. I wondered how anyone could ask Eugene to stop talking.
~~~
Title: A Brightness in the Valley
Fandom: Band of Brothers (yeah…I know lol it’s getting a little repetitive)
Pairing: Tab/OFC, Luz/OFC
It’s kind of weird the way this kid is always watching me. Every little move I make seems to put him on red alert. One day, I’m so thirsty I could cry. All I want is a god damn drink of water. It should be a two minute ordeal, tops. Get up, grab a glass, hit up the sink, go sit back down. Instead, I stay stock still for at least forty of the longest minutes of my life. I know if I get up he’ll be out there, if I take one step beyond the threshold of my bedroom he’ll be staring the entire time. Which probably wouldn’t be so awful to endure if he didn’t have the tired, wounded eyes of a soldier.
Finally, I force myself to get up. Staring at the door for a long, drawn out moment, I put on my big girl panties and reach out for the knob.
He’s out there alright. I don’t mean to stare at him like he’s lost his fucking mind, but I didn’t exactly expect to see mine and Taylor’s entire DVD collection spread out around him like a fort. With his legs crossed Indian style on the carpet, his eyes are studying the back cover of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. But not for long.
Forcing a smile, I give up a little awkward wave and try to keep moving on as though it is completely normal to have twenty-three year old World War 2 vets sitting on your living room floor. My steps take me to the kitchen cabinets and, even though we should theoretically be facing opposite sides of the apartment, I can feel his eyes charring me to a crisp as I reach up on my toes for a glass. Or maybe that’s just my body’s natural reaction to his presence. And the fact that we’re alone in the apartment because Taylor took the Scruffy One shopping.