Last Lines
Dec. 16th, 2008 07:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deird_ljHerein lies a version of the Last Line Meme (ganked from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
beer_good_foamy and stormwreath), reworked to deal with the fact that I’ve written far too much fanfic this year, and so a list would be incredibly long, and increasingly boring.
Instead, I’ve tried something a bit different…
Yep, the last lines of every fic I’ve written (minus drabbles) are right here. I have, for a few, slightly pushed the definition of “line”, but they’re all here.
For extra credit, see if you can figure out where the joins are…
Let’s see…
Well, we can start with some femslash:
Buffy sighed, ruefully. “Yeah… I think we might need to try something else…”
“Yes, and that’s-” Lilah stopped, annoyed. “You know what? I’ll spend my time looking into complex new mystical techniques for inflicting psychological torture on a central figure in apocalyptic prophecies… you go send your new friend a gift basket. I hear he likes roses.”
Buffy relented. “Fine. But if she comes up here, you’ll have to jump out the window.”
Behind them, the fire was starting to die down. But the two young lovers didn’t seem to notice at all.
* * * * *
Then move on to a short letter, sister to sister:
And you? You’re mostly thankful that, right now, none of your friends know who you’re making out with. And all you can do is clutch this scarf, this piece of the girl who loves you, and hope that in the morning there will be answers…
Unless you want to spend the rest of your lives wearing one set of clothes and sleeping on the floor, work it out.
Have fun!
– Dawn
* * * * *
And then a small snippet of angst (with an implied spell) as Buffy works on her issues:
“Damn.” She rested her head on the table, and sighed again. “This is going to take forever…”
Unfortunately, Buffy was right, and Xander retreated to the couch, muttering about magic and consequences.
* * * * *
Another excerpt from a letter:
Buffy likes him too. So she inserts him into Sunnydale. She puts everyone there in the end. And they are hoping to live happily ever after. (So far, they've managed two years.)
When this empty sanctuary satisfies her no longer, she will see a light in the darkness – an escape into life – and she will leap to catch it, pulling you with her.
Bon voyage, my friend. It has been an honour to work with you.
In appreciation,
Rupert Giles
* * * * *
A moment of blissful ignorance:
Buffy started taking the long route to school, and forgot about the whole thing. And for a moment, she was happy.
Then she realised the day wasn’t rewinding – just as his face started to change.
Had she not been so distracted, she might have wondered why Angel didn’t seem slightly more surprised.
* * * * *
Some obscurity:
There are tears on our faces, and we stand silent.
(And one day, he just throws away the bucket, and starts swimming for shore…)
* * * * *
Possibly some sort of spell (again):
On the stereo, someone says “Come on, let’s rock!” and the whole band starts clapping along.
Isn’t nearly as bad as she thought. Tara sits there and tries to figure it out, but everything seems normal.
It was probably nothing.
Then she picks up the bottle, and spins it once more.
And it goes round and round…
* * * * *
A bit more angst:
Warren will be coming back for me soon.
Andrew sighed.
* * * * *
A self-insert, and a tragedy:
I just wanted to try living in my favourite show for a while. That’s all.
Well, I was bored…
Being crushed to death when those same heroes started a war and leveled the building, was kind of… ironic. In a way.
(Dawn is horrified, but Willow consoles her.
After all, pets never last for long.
…and don’t mourn forever. She’d want you happy.
Take care,
Melissa Schulz)
As it was, they at least gave me a five second head-start. That was kinda nice.
(As the weeks turned to months it got harder to forget, but Dawn gritted her teeth and kept right on living. After all, she’d promised.)
* * * * *
And finally, an unlikely team of fighters:
“I’ve got your back.”
“But, fighting… isn’t that why we have Slayers?”
He smiled genially at her. “Obviously. But someone has to fight them.”
“I’m doomed. Doomed to heroism. This is horrible. And that is why I think that I just wish to be a Scoobie.”
“Right.” He grinned, slowly. “Well, when you put it like that…”
“Please?”
“No.”
She laughed, and kept polishing her axe. “Me neither. Okay… I’ll fight vampires, you call out instructions. You’re good at that. Coming?”
And without another word, Henri followed her.
After all, over the centuries the two of them had slaughtered millions. And Fred was alive and well, so all things considered, what was a few thousand more? (And if he squinted, he could almost ignore the blue. It was probably just a trick of light.)
She ran screaming into battle again, and Xander watched her go, content.
Right. Real Men Use Swords, it is.
Mission accomplished.
Fred looked at the pile of dust at her feet, and sighed. “I am better than this…”
Then she pulled out her cell phone.
“Hey, Lorne – it’s me… …Yep. Problem solved… …Uh-huh… …I won’t be back for a while longer, though. I’m going to get myself some ice-cream.”
They sat there together, munching quietly, and waited for it all to get better again.
beer_good_foamy and stormwreath), reworked to deal with the fact that I’ve written far too much fanfic this year, and so a list would be incredibly long, and increasingly boring.Instead, I’ve tried something a bit different…
Yep, the last lines of every fic I’ve written (minus drabbles) are right here. I have, for a few, slightly pushed the definition of “line”, but they’re all here.
For extra credit, see if you can figure out where the joins are…
Let’s see…
Well, we can start with some femslash:
Buffy sighed, ruefully. “Yeah… I think we might need to try something else…”
“Yes, and that’s-” Lilah stopped, annoyed. “You know what? I’ll spend my time looking into complex new mystical techniques for inflicting psychological torture on a central figure in apocalyptic prophecies… you go send your new friend a gift basket. I hear he likes roses.”
Buffy relented. “Fine. But if she comes up here, you’ll have to jump out the window.”
Behind them, the fire was starting to die down. But the two young lovers didn’t seem to notice at all.
* * * * *
Then move on to a short letter, sister to sister:
And you? You’re mostly thankful that, right now, none of your friends know who you’re making out with. And all you can do is clutch this scarf, this piece of the girl who loves you, and hope that in the morning there will be answers…
Unless you want to spend the rest of your lives wearing one set of clothes and sleeping on the floor, work it out.
Have fun!
– Dawn
* * * * *
And then a small snippet of angst (with an implied spell) as Buffy works on her issues:
“Damn.” She rested her head on the table, and sighed again. “This is going to take forever…”
Unfortunately, Buffy was right, and Xander retreated to the couch, muttering about magic and consequences.
* * * * *
Another excerpt from a letter:
Buffy likes him too. So she inserts him into Sunnydale. She puts everyone there in the end. And they are hoping to live happily ever after. (So far, they've managed two years.)
When this empty sanctuary satisfies her no longer, she will see a light in the darkness – an escape into life – and she will leap to catch it, pulling you with her.
Bon voyage, my friend. It has been an honour to work with you.
In appreciation,
Rupert Giles
* * * * *
A moment of blissful ignorance:
Buffy started taking the long route to school, and forgot about the whole thing. And for a moment, she was happy.
Then she realised the day wasn’t rewinding – just as his face started to change.
Had she not been so distracted, she might have wondered why Angel didn’t seem slightly more surprised.
* * * * *
Some obscurity:
There are tears on our faces, and we stand silent.
(And one day, he just throws away the bucket, and starts swimming for shore…)
* * * * *
Possibly some sort of spell (again):
On the stereo, someone says “Come on, let’s rock!” and the whole band starts clapping along.
Isn’t nearly as bad as she thought. Tara sits there and tries to figure it out, but everything seems normal.
It was probably nothing.
Then she picks up the bottle, and spins it once more.
And it goes round and round…
* * * * *
A bit more angst:
Warren will be coming back for me soon.
Andrew sighed.
* * * * *
A self-insert, and a tragedy:
I just wanted to try living in my favourite show for a while. That’s all.
Well, I was bored…
Being crushed to death when those same heroes started a war and leveled the building, was kind of… ironic. In a way.
(Dawn is horrified, but Willow consoles her.
After all, pets never last for long.
Take care,
Melissa Schulz)
As it was, they at least gave me a five second head-start. That was kinda nice.
(As the weeks turned to months it got harder to forget, but Dawn gritted her teeth and kept right on living. After all, she’d promised.)
* * * * *
And finally, an unlikely team of fighters:
“I’ve got your back.”
“But, fighting… isn’t that why we have Slayers?”
He smiled genially at her. “Obviously. But someone has to fight them.”
“I’m doomed. Doomed to heroism. This is horrible. And that is why I think that I just wish to be a Scoobie.”
“Right.” He grinned, slowly. “Well, when you put it like that…”
“Please?”
“No.”
She laughed, and kept polishing her axe. “Me neither. Okay… I’ll fight vampires, you call out instructions. You’re good at that. Coming?”
And without another word, Henri followed her.
After all, over the centuries the two of them had slaughtered millions. And Fred was alive and well, so all things considered, what was a few thousand more? (And if he squinted, he could almost ignore the blue. It was probably just a trick of light.)
She ran screaming into battle again, and Xander watched her go, content.
Right. Real Men Use Swords, it is.
Mission accomplished.
Fred looked at the pile of dust at her feet, and sighed. “I am better than this…”
Then she pulled out her cell phone.
“Hey, Lorne – it’s me… …Yep. Problem solved… …Uh-huh… …I won’t be back for a while longer, though. I’m going to get myself some ice-cream.”
They sat there together, munching quietly, and waited for it all to get better again.
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no subject
Date: 2008-12-16 02:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-16 04:02 am (UTC)