#rasa writes

[archiveofliterature]

wip wednesday / me, the author: omg they're flirting....

[elysianholly]

Tabula Rasa: Missing Scene

He should have headed right for the door, as that had been the plan, but seeing as it was one of his plans, he wasn’t surprised that she’d buggered it. Or that he’d let her bugger it. Instead of collecting the last remaining scraps of his pride and stalking out, Spike circled the Bronze again. Unable to help himself, useless to resist, because walking away meant leaving her here, and he didn’t want to do that.

Though Christ, things would be so much simpler if he did.

Spike shook his head, angry at her and himself, and stopped just under the staircase. Seemed a decent spot, close enough to get to her if she started looking around for him, far enough away to duck out if the reason she looked was to glare stakes.

Only when he next cast his gaze on the place where she’d been sitting, it was empty. Buffy had lit out.

Bloody figures.

Right. Well, let that be a lesson, then. Spike worked his throat, shoving it all back—love, hurt, indignation—and turned to leave for real.

Only when he did, she was there. Right there. Her eyes soft and wide, reflecting that quiet desperation he’d seen there every night since he’d stopped counting.

“Buffy—”

“Shut up,” she said, seized him by the lapels of the duster, and pulled his mouth down to hers.

And if only just this once, Spike decided he’d do exactly as told.

[punchdrunkdoc]

Daredevil: Born Again

I haven't watched any of it! And I'm dying to! (Okay, I've seen some gifs and some spoilers (grrr) but I haven't seen a single episode).

And I don't think I'll be able to until I finish Tabula Rasa. I've gone so far off canon, and my Matt has got to be so different from the Matt in DD:BA that I'm worried that I'll be influenced by the show's Matt, or it will mess with my ability to write my Matt, or something.

It's why I can't even read DD fanfic while I'm writing.

Urgh! So annoying!

If I hadn't decided to make Tabula Rasa such a bloody long beast of a story, I'd be done by now and could watch some lovely new Matt/Charlie Cox content, so it's my own stupid fault.

[strangelittlestories]

Eos emerged from the pool and stretched and his spine cracked with a hundred years of spent tension.

“Sounds like you needed that.” Said Nyssa, who had been sitting by the pool, waiting.

Eos took in their surroundings for the first time. The two of them were in a cave, lit by a seam of glowing mushrooms overhead. The water reached up to Eos’s waist; the pool was black as space and just as cold. Strangely, they didn’t shiver. The cold was just a curiosity.

The water did not rippled as Eos walked towards its edge. Reflected in the pool’s perfect obsidian surface were Eos, Nyssa, and the fungal bioluminescence which turned the dark water into a cosmos. 

“I’m sorry … who are you?” Asked Eos, as they clambered up onto the rough rock floor. “For that matter, who am I?”

“You’re Eos. I’m Nyssa.” She smiled and her smile told a story of grief and mischief. “And this is Stinger.”

For the first time, Eos noticed the creature sitting in Nyssa’s lap. It was somewhere between a hedgehog, a badger, a wolverine and patch of weeds, with green leaves and barbs sticking up like fur.

“How did I get here?”

“We came in together. We were in a bit of a state, apparently. Your soul must have been more ragged than mine, as I crawled out a couple of days ago.”

“I remember fire like old rot. The face of a god carved in the wind.” Eos winced at the memory, like picking at scars on their brain. “And pain. Lots of pain.”

“Yeah, whatever did this to us tore our bodies to shredded hell. Nearly took our spirits with us.”

“You remember?”

“No. Stinger told me.” Nyssa stroked the creature, careful to only touch the soft underside of her leaves. “She’s a nettle possum. My familiar. It pays to keep some of your memories on the outside, apparently. The pool wipes them clean, otherwise.”

Eos started walking towards the tunnel at the back of the cave. Their legs wobbled like a drunken heron.

“We have to get back…”

Nyssa reached over to grab one of Eos’s ankles and they teetered for a moment, before grabbing onto the cave wall.

“Nothing to go back to. It’s been, oh, at least a full generation for the pool to restore us.”

The remaining strength in their legs gave out and Eos sat down hard on the floor.

“Then…”

“The world outside is what it is.” Nyssa shrugged and the shrug was the whole world. “For now, we have one job.”

“What’s that?”

“We teach each other who we are. Again.”

“How? My head feels ... unmapped. All my memories just roads leading I don't know where.”

“Well, they say the past is foreign country.” Nyssa smiled that sad menace smile again. “But there is no border a witch can’t hop if she really needs to…”

[helianthus21]

Trying to make Vincenzo emotionally support Han-seo thru his recovery is so hard bc i want him to be insightful and understanding when in reality it would probably just go like Han-seo casually trauma-dumping to a Vincenzo who looks like this 😐 while a whole ass freakout is going on in his head like

[battleshipgarcy]

A happy Flynn Friday photo album dump of some Garcia things that make me feel better ❤ I had a very meh, down in the dumps day yesterday, and though temporary, Garcia Flynn things make life more bearable.

And I found this Flereal Bear graphic I made years ago, and still wish I could get a custom Care Bear with the Flereal photo on his tummy.

[greensaplinggrace]

ooooh buffy accusing giles of deserting her is so juicy. i find the ways she embodies a military general so fucking fascinating

[persimminwrites]

we are planning!!!!!! zombie au is coming to life!!!!!

[zeilenziege]

Tabula Rasa hat bei den Amby Awards auf Wattpad gewonnen.

So richtig glauben kann ich das alles noch nicht, aber es ist schon wieder passiert. Schon wieder gewonnen. Ich bin echt baff. Ich kann kaum glauben, dass diese Geschichte, meine erste richtig lange Geschichte, euch so gut gefällt.

Vielen Dank!

Seit letztem Monat gibt es sie auch wieder bei Ao3 und FanFiktion.de. Bis Weihnachten gibt es jeden Tag ein neues Kapitel, sodass der Xmas One Shot zur passenden Zeit wieder online geht.

[acupfcake]

ini bukan hentian, kan?

[juuheizou]

you know i haven't made an entire murder board for any of my fics lately and i think that's my problem

[nofikadwi]

Seribu rasa baru

Menjadikan mu rumah tujuan ku untuk pulang...

Pernah suatu ketika kita memperhatikan kehidupan rumah tangga lain, hingga didapat satu obrolan "kok bisa sih mbak A bener-bener mau diajak tinggal satu rumah dengan mertua dan kakak iparnya?" Dan ketika itu dirimu menjawab "karena mbak A pernah bilang dimana pun suaminya berada dia akan selalu ikut".

Dan semenjak itu aku berusaha menjadikan mu rumah untuk tujuan ku pulang, meski terkadang aku rindu, rindu satu meja makan dengan orang tua ku. Rindu bercengkrama selepas isya didepan tv dengan orang tua ku, yang memang selepas menikah ini sudah teramat jarang kulalui. Jika aku mau belajar dan terus belajar menjadikan mu rumah ku. Kenapa sulit dengan dirimu? Kenapa aku tak menjadi prioritas alasan mu pulang melepas lelah? Kenapa aku belum bisa menjadi rumah untuk tujuan mu pulang berteduh dan beristirahat? Bahkan dari perjalanan jauh pun, aku bukan tujuan rumah mu untuk melepas letih dan rindu.

Dan tentang menikah bukan hanya tentang panggung saling memberi, tapi panggung saling memahami. Maaf jika diri ini masih harus banyak belajar lagi tentang panggung saling memahami....

Seribu rasa part 2

Magetan, 23 Desember 2023

[ceritaksara]

hari ini, misi ku untuk menjadi "cegil" sepertinya akan aku cukupkan. kalimat "pasangan saya"" sudah tepat untuk menjawab pertanyaan ku sedari kemarin.

oke. selamat melanjutkan perjalanan gila lainnya ya, haha karena ternyata perasaan dan pikiran kemarin itu memang hampir gila(?)

[berthindeath]

@myrdr asked: ⤷ just as the receiver is about to lose hope in ever finding the sender again, a message or clue of some kind is discovered that essentially guarantees that the sender is still alive, restoring the receiver’s hope once more.

He's never gone this long without a word. Even if it's scrawled across a torn, charred, sometimes even bloodied parchment, he still manages to reach her.

Days turned into weeks, weeks approaching a month without so much as a glimmer. Pretending to be unfazed has grown into a chore, trying to appear unaffected by his absence in a way that is convincing. Has his borrowed time finally run out?

Be it by blade?  Be it by poison?

It gnaws at her insides, the simmering rage bedding down with her misery as she continues her work. Assuaging restless spirits, cleansing hauntings, visiting with Emmrich and Manfred when the loneliness clutches too deeply. There's a comfort in the fellow necromancer's kinship, but it does nothing to temper the fear that lives in the marrow of her bones. She knows he can sense it but she dare not admit it. Uninterested in the judgement it would inevitably bring. 

This secret is like lead in her lungs, all her efforts to try to steer him toward something better, his insistence in it being folly but she did it anyway.

Had it all been for nothing?

Her limbs are weary as she walks up the steps to her home, a notion that still doesn't feel real. Remaining in the Lighthouse had not been an option, the ghosts that live within were too heavy for her to carry. Yet, this also feels wrong. Nevarra City would always be where she came from, she'd always have her loyalty to the streets that raised her. Yet it feels as though she is in a pantomime, but she hasn't fully commit to her part.

Then, as she reaches the front door, lilac hues lock on something wedged in the knocker. Her touch is delicate, longer nails scraping against the edge until she realizes. She rips the parchment from the door as she pushes into the house with an insistence to get out of the open so that she might rip into it. It is of modest length, but it is written in an all too familiar hand. One that has her eyes burning and frame leaning against the door until it closes. She shivers, a sense of relief clutching her heart as it clamors against her ribcage. 

G, My movements were compromised. I was forced to lie low, writing was not an option.  If you're reading this now, then I managed to evade my own demise once more.  I miss your skin. This place is too frigid—it would be bearable with you near.  But, I am alive, for now.  I would insist that you stay away, but I know you won't listen to me. You never do. Watch your back.  Always, Amore, remember to burn this. — Z

Her breath trembles as she lifts her gaze to the darkened ceiling above her, tears threatening to breach her eyelids but they never quite fall. Eyes like lilacs turn to the letter, her thumb brushing over the parchment with only the tenderness a lover could give. Before her hand slowly closes it into her fist as flame ignites across her knuckles. Smoke pours from her closed fist as the letter incinerates in her touch, scorching any fragment of his words. As the flame dissipates, the ashes drift out of her palm toward the floor, swirling in a tornado at her feet as she moves to gather her effects. One word, written to express a longing, but also to discreetly convey his location. 

He's right. She won't be listening. And she never will.