|lirazel (lirazel) wrote,|
@ 2010-03-19 09:17 am UTC
|Entry tags:||buffy the vampire slayer, fanfiction, firefly|
R is for (the) Ramones, Spike and Dawn, Buffy the Vampire Slayer for gigi_tastic
After Sunnydale, regret catches up with her, tangling around her legs to trip her up and make her fall.
She lies in bed, staring at the ceiling and wishing she’d bent her pride and anger just once. Because all the good memories—and there were so many good ones; she probably has more than Buffy does, and that breaks her heart for her sister—are spoiled by the knowledge that the last real words she ever spoke to him were in anger. There was no moment of reconciliation, no words of understanding, no way of knowing if he ever knew that she still loved him.
But there was a night, right before the end, when she sat on the back porch under the stars, listening to Rocket to Russia on her walkman. She didn’t hear him approach, but she did feel him sit down beside her and start humming along under his breath: his vampire-sharp ears could pick up the sound even without headphones.
They said nothing, just sat there surrounded by night air and the sound of punk rock, but it felt a little bit like forgiveness.
X is for xenophobia, Simon, Firefly, for caboca
If kids growing up in the Black are told stories of Reavers to scare them into behaving, children on the Core worlds are told stories of Black bandits, pirates, ruffians. Unwashed hordes of rebels who would descend on disobedient Core children and sweep them away in their beat-up old ships into the endless night of the Black.
Simon’s ashamed to say that he believed those stories a little bit more than he should have. Zoe’s the first one to make him rethink his opinion: he’s met countesses with less stateliness than Serenity’s second-in-command. It takes a bit for Mal and Wash to grow on him, though Kaylee’s sunny smile eases the way.
But he’s still half-convinced that Jayne Cobb is a character out of one of Mother’s stories come to life.
I is for Incense, Giles, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, for snickfic
He has always been one for self-awareness, even if self-flagellation has never been one of his vices. But the first few weeks of working at the Magic Box, he begins to wonder if he picked this place precisely to remind himself of past sins: a sort of bulwark against hubris.
The smell of incense thick in the air reminds him of drugs and demons and Ethan Rayne, youth in revolt , and sometimes when just the right musty scent wafts his way, he has to wonder if he’s left Ripper as far behind as he likes to believe he has.