Oh yes, fics!
Nov. 29th, 2002 04:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vulgarweedNobody reads this for the politics.
Well, I'm happy 'cause I just found that one of my SS/HG smutbiscuits is in "Most Popular" at the excellent Dark Sarcasm archive. How'd that happen?
More teasers from WIPs:
Aerial Maneuvers (HP)
This is it, thought Harry, this is the moment, the hour of my death….and involuntarily he tightened his hands around the shaft of his Firebolt, as the Savage Sabbaticals, the Hogwarts faculty team for the exhibition game, flew out onto the field and took their starting positions.
Was it precognition?
Madam Hooch as his opposite number he could cope with, though he feared the hawk-eyed Seeker in his bones. It was the mismatched pair of Beaters, Snape and Hagrid, that would lay him in his grave, doing Voldemort’s work for him in the name of good dirty fun. Hagrid at least would feel remorse.
Not for the first time in his life, Harry wanted his mum. Specifically, he wanted his mum to be the student Seeker in this game instead of him.
They were off.
Bludgers galore.
Ow.
Wait, that wasn’t a bludger. That was Snape flying by, without his broom. Bad Hagrid.
Wait –
That’s the Snitch.
Shit. She’s seen it.
Coming in low….
Lower….
Lower….
Faster….
Almost…
OOWWWWWOOOOOFFFFFFFF!!!!
(that’s the ground).
No, that’s Madam Hooch, actually. Mess of robes. Snitch somewhere in there, gotta get it….in her robes or mine? Can’t tell….wait a minute!
Those aren’t regulation under-breeches.
Those are fishnets.
***
and another,
The Ring and the Crown (Silmarillion/LOTR)
Covered in gore I was and weary, and, near-broken until rest I found myself staggering down a small hillock into a black and leafless wood. Where I had thought to remove my battered armour and cleanse myself of the stench of lesser blood in a stagnant water-hole He slipped from the dark forest like a rustling sound, wearing the form of a great wolf all in black. This was the shaggy form that had appeared in the smoke of my altars, dim in the corner of my eye. Naked I stood in foul water, and knew it was of no avail to grope for my sword; He would be upon me in the time it would take for my eye to find it. Ordinary wolves I could call, yes, but I knew this to be no mere beast.
Therefore as I stood facing the creature, I was not so very shocked to hear Him speak. "You've fed us well, little Kingling who has taken his crown by the way of the wolves. Down in the valley my kindred are eating their fill."
"And what is the meat that sates you, O wolf-lord?," I asked with some boldness, for I perceived He would not attack me this day.
The Wolf laughed, a harsh ringing howl, and chips of the pale bone-moon were His teeth in that moment. "You are no coward, cub. Prove yourself not a fool, and I will see you again."
Well, I'm happy 'cause I just found that one of my SS/HG smutbiscuits is in "Most Popular" at the excellent Dark Sarcasm archive. How'd that happen?
More teasers from WIPs:
Aerial Maneuvers (HP)
This is it, thought Harry, this is the moment, the hour of my death….and involuntarily he tightened his hands around the shaft of his Firebolt, as the Savage Sabbaticals, the Hogwarts faculty team for the exhibition game, flew out onto the field and took their starting positions.
Was it precognition?
Madam Hooch as his opposite number he could cope with, though he feared the hawk-eyed Seeker in his bones. It was the mismatched pair of Beaters, Snape and Hagrid, that would lay him in his grave, doing Voldemort’s work for him in the name of good dirty fun. Hagrid at least would feel remorse.
Not for the first time in his life, Harry wanted his mum. Specifically, he wanted his mum to be the student Seeker in this game instead of him.
They were off.
Bludgers galore.
Ow.
Wait, that wasn’t a bludger. That was Snape flying by, without his broom. Bad Hagrid.
Wait –
That’s the Snitch.
Shit. She’s seen it.
Coming in low….
Lower….
Lower….
Faster….
Almost…
OOWWWWWOOOOOFFFFFFFF!!!!
(that’s the ground).
No, that’s Madam Hooch, actually. Mess of robes. Snitch somewhere in there, gotta get it….in her robes or mine? Can’t tell….wait a minute!
Those aren’t regulation under-breeches.
Those are fishnets.
***
and another,
The Ring and the Crown (Silmarillion/LOTR)
Covered in gore I was and weary, and, near-broken until rest I found myself staggering down a small hillock into a black and leafless wood. Where I had thought to remove my battered armour and cleanse myself of the stench of lesser blood in a stagnant water-hole He slipped from the dark forest like a rustling sound, wearing the form of a great wolf all in black. This was the shaggy form that had appeared in the smoke of my altars, dim in the corner of my eye. Naked I stood in foul water, and knew it was of no avail to grope for my sword; He would be upon me in the time it would take for my eye to find it. Ordinary wolves I could call, yes, but I knew this to be no mere beast.
Therefore as I stood facing the creature, I was not so very shocked to hear Him speak. "You've fed us well, little Kingling who has taken his crown by the way of the wolves. Down in the valley my kindred are eating their fill."
"And what is the meat that sates you, O wolf-lord?," I asked with some boldness, for I perceived He would not attack me this day.
The Wolf laughed, a harsh ringing howl, and chips of the pale bone-moon were His teeth in that moment. "You are no coward, cub. Prove yourself not a fool, and I will see you again."
