Self-Pimpage
Nov. 3rd, 2007 10:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
keladry_lupinIn addition to reccing fics by other authors whose works are eligible for this round of the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
sshg_awards, I'm posting links to the four fics that I've written that are eligible, too. (No matter how badly written they are.)
Family. Complete in one shot. Summary: A moment at home. (Posted to Ashwinder 18 July 2005, but it was originally posted here at fanfiction.net in September 2004.)
Babble. Complete in two hundred words. Summary: Sometimes, a word can take on a life of its own. Sequel to "Family." (Posted to Ashwinder 29 June 2005.)
Hero. Complete in six chapters. Summary: Hermione is trapped in Hagrid's hut after the rising of the full Moon. Professor Snape is in a bad way after a Death Eater gathering, and is mortified to find that he needs Miss Know-It-All's help to get through the night. Pre-romance. (Started at Ashwinder on Severus' birthday, 2005.)
She Was Beautiful to Him. WIP, sixteen chapters posted. Summary: Professor Snape has cause to think about his most insufferable student and comes to some unexpected conclusions. (Started at Ashwinder 6 March 2005.) I'm still struggling with it, but I've started making progress ... yet again.
He was too tired to kill himself right now. He dragged himself to bed, leaving a trail of clothes behind him. His shirt came off a moment after he entered his bedroom, and as the sleeve slid off his arm he jumped, letting out a cry of shock.
It was gone. The Mark was gone, as though it had never been seared into the sallow flesh of his arm.
I’m free.
The implications crashed down on him, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe. He held his left arm up in the light, gazing at his skin. He bore Voldemort’s brand no longer. The possibilities … he gasped for air, hardly knowing what to think. He wanted to laugh; he wanted to cry. He felt giddy. He wanted to show someone — he had to show Hermione!
She’s dead.
Sober and despairing, he looked to his right.
I never thought it’d be this way.
His old quilt lay draped over the back of a chair. Remembering how he’d draped it over her shoulders not so long ago, he wrapped himself in it now.
I was ready to die, but I’m not strong enough to live when she’s gone.
He laid down upon his bed and wept for the first time in thirty years, his choking sobs echoing off the bare stone walls of his rooms. He couldn’t stop them, nor did he try, despite his shame at giving in to them.
Why not me? If it had to happen to one of us, why did it have to be her?
Today’s victory meant nothing. What was there to live for?
Here are some relevant links to thesshg_awards community:
Rules for Nominations
Award Categories
FAQ
The Nomination Post
sshg_awards, I'm posting links to the four fics that I've written that are eligible, too. (No matter how badly written they are.)Family. Complete in one shot. Summary: A moment at home. (Posted to Ashwinder 18 July 2005, but it was originally posted here at fanfiction.net in September 2004.)
Babble. Complete in two hundred words. Summary: Sometimes, a word can take on a life of its own. Sequel to "Family." (Posted to Ashwinder 29 June 2005.)
Hero. Complete in six chapters. Summary: Hermione is trapped in Hagrid's hut after the rising of the full Moon. Professor Snape is in a bad way after a Death Eater gathering, and is mortified to find that he needs Miss Know-It-All's help to get through the night. Pre-romance. (Started at Ashwinder on Severus' birthday, 2005.)
She Was Beautiful to Him. WIP, sixteen chapters posted. Summary: Professor Snape has cause to think about his most insufferable student and comes to some unexpected conclusions. (Started at Ashwinder 6 March 2005.) I'm still struggling with it, but I've started making progress ... yet again.
He was too tired to kill himself right now. He dragged himself to bed, leaving a trail of clothes behind him. His shirt came off a moment after he entered his bedroom, and as the sleeve slid off his arm he jumped, letting out a cry of shock.
It was gone. The Mark was gone, as though it had never been seared into the sallow flesh of his arm.
I’m free.
The implications crashed down on him, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe. He held his left arm up in the light, gazing at his skin. He bore Voldemort’s brand no longer. The possibilities … he gasped for air, hardly knowing what to think. He wanted to laugh; he wanted to cry. He felt giddy. He wanted to show someone — he had to show Hermione!
She’s dead.
Sober and despairing, he looked to his right.
I never thought it’d be this way.
His old quilt lay draped over the back of a chair. Remembering how he’d draped it over her shoulders not so long ago, he wrapped himself in it now.
I was ready to die, but I’m not strong enough to live when she’s gone.
He laid down upon his bed and wept for the first time in thirty years, his choking sobs echoing off the bare stone walls of his rooms. He couldn’t stop them, nor did he try, despite his shame at giving in to them.
Why not me? If it had to happen to one of us, why did it have to be her?
Today’s victory meant nothing. What was there to live for?
Here are some relevant links to the
sshg_awards community:Rules for Nominations
Award Categories
FAQ
The Nomination Post
