Rauni Reivonen - swords and mages and gays, oh my!
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takatalvi.bsky.social
Rauni Reivonen - swords and mages and gays, oh my!
@takatalvi.bsky.social
160 followers 110 following 540 posts
Writer of queer fantasy romance with all the angst, no fade to black 😈
🏳️‍⚧️ 🏳️‍🌈 they/them. Autistic & other ND/MH stuff. Translator (Zh,Fi,Sv,Fr>En), library minion. Metalhead, trail runner.
https://linktr.ee/raunireivonen
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takatalvi.bsky.social
I may or may not have written a 1200 word scene that doesn’t actually happen 😙😈😁 But it was fun and it helped me make a lot of words quickly! 😄
#amwriting #DarkDreams #NovemberWriting #writingcommunity
The last thing he remembered before he fell asleep was Kiran tenderly kissing his nose and saying, “I’ve got you, Your Highness.”
November 15, 2025 at 8:01 PM
takatalvi.bsky.social
You know your minor characters are coming to life when you start thinking about what they’re doing/thinking/feeling after they leave the scene 😄
#amwriting #DarkDreams #NovemberWriting #writesky
(And poor Kiran goes back to his room and curls up thinking, what am I doing, I almost made a move on His Highness, what an idiot I am)
November 15, 2025 at 6:03 PM
takatalvi.bsky.social
Hi! I'm Rauni (they/them). I finished drafting #Nomads on Monday, so now I'm working on rewriting my very dark, gay Little Mermaid retelling #DarkDreams.
Rewriting a handwritten book is..interesting, and not recommended for making a lot of words during #NovemberWriting.
#QueerWritersChat #amwriting
Two open notebooks next to each other, top to bottom; the pages visible are almost completely full of handwriting, the bottom notebook full of notes referencing the top notebook. A BIC pen, a blue highlighter, an orange Post-it pad with writing on it and the corner of a tablet keyboard are also in the frame, as well as some clutter
November 15, 2025 at 1:22 AM
takatalvi.bsky.social
Oh yeah, and yesterday I was 300 words short when I thought I was done- so I had to charge ahead with the Castle Caran scene, wrote 2633 words & made the 2nd side peak on my #NovemberWriting mountain 😆
#amwriting #writesky #writingcommunity
Nomads, and hopefully rewriting Dark Dreams Daily work My word count graph, which is supposed to rise steadily until the middle of the month, then go down again; but now there are two spikes on the left (ascending) side Overall progress Current state: 11,486 words
November 10, 2025 at 11:37 PM
takatalvi.bsky.social
The draft of #Nomads is DOOOONE!
29,967 words. Not all during #NovemberWriting. Includes some scenes that won't be used.*
I can't give you the last line, cause it's spoilers, but here's a bit near the end that's suitably cryptic 😈
#amwriting #writesky #queerbooksky #fantasy #romance #LGBTQ 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️💘⚔️❤️‍🔥
A glowing flush crept up Ubet’s face, a mirror of Mongke’s swell of pleasure earlier, and Mongke realized he was still holding Ubet’s hand, the one that held the string of beads. “Would you make one for me? Can you?” “I can. It’s not the sword demons’ magic. It’s an older art.” They finally raised their gaze to him, aurulent eyes glinting with a mischievous gleam. “And why do you want one?”
November 10, 2025 at 11:14 PM
takatalvi.bsky.social
And my fave line(s) from today:

#amwriting #Nomads #NovemberWriting #fantasy #romance #LGBTQ 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️⚔️💘❤️‍🔥
And Mongke didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to know. If Ubet was leading him into some sort of trap, he would ride into it with his head held high, and if Ubet’s kisses and caresses were lies, he would believe them until the end, would drink them up, would drown in them. He knew he could not escape from Ubet even if he tried.
November 9, 2025 at 2:14 AM
takatalvi.bsky.social
2) I wrote way over and made the first side peak on my word count mountain 😆
#amwriting #Nomads #NovemberWriting #writesky #writingcommunity
Pacemaker Planner longest streak: 6 Nomads, and hopefully rewriting Dark Dreams Daily work 11/6/25 Work you logged on this day: 1,927 Which is labeling a spike on the left side of my mountain shaped word count graph Overall progress Current state: 5,507 words Pacemaker.press
November 8, 2025 at 2:28 AM
takatalvi.bsky.social
Today is a fun one 😄 Yes, I reached the midpoint, the turning pt, yesterday, but today I'm working on a much more extended scene once M&U reach the first oasis 😈

#amwriting #Nomads #NovemberWriting #writesky #queerbooksky #LGBTQ #fantasy #romance 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️💘🌴🏊‍♂️❤️‍🔥😈🌶️🌶️🌶️
The whole time he could feel Ubet's gaze, not quite watching and not quite not watching. It set his whole body abuzz. By the time he left the water, the western cliffs aflame with the just-set sun, he was fully ready.
November 6, 2025 at 7:56 PM
takatalvi.bsky.social
Ah, right! #NovemberWriting update time! Started up the mtn & surpassed my goal yesterday & today 😀

Last line from today:
He lay with his head pillowed on a cushion—what luxury—and bathed in the words that Ubet had said earlier.
(Ok, it’s sappy, so sue me!)

#amwriting #Nomads #writingcommunity
My word count graph on Pacemaker Nomads, and hopefully rewriting Dark Dreams Daily work Graph of the plan, which starts out low, climbs to just over 3,000 words per day, and then falls again toward the end of the month 11/2/25 Work you logged on this day: 524 Target quota for this day: 524 Overall progress Current state: 847 words Pacemaker.press
November 3, 2025 at 3:44 AM
takatalvi.bsky.social
Finally found this again at the end of the month, and ok, I'll bite (heheh) 😁😈
I have an obvious one for today's.. the Wolf from #BeauAndTheWolf certainly isn't human 😈🐺

#amwriting #Caulktober #queerbooksky #romance 🏳️‍🌈💘🐺🩸
The wolf - an anthropomorphic beast with wolf-like features - has his arm draped possessively over the shoulder of Beau, a young man with very curly hair, and stares at the viewer with a slight glare, as if to say, "MINE"
November 1, 2025 at 3:20 AM
takatalvi.bsky.social
As per usual, I made my word count plan for #NovemberWriting on the evening of Oct 31 😄 And as always, here’s my mountain-shaped plan.
Also got some treats, cause that’s what I write for 😆
Who else is ready for November? Or still getting ready?
#amwriting #writesky #writingcommunity
My word count plan on Pacemaker November Writing 2025 Novel writing by talvik 50,000 words over 30 days 11/1/25 - 11/30/25 31 days left Nomads, and hopefully rewriting Dark Dreams Daily work Graph that starts out low, climbs to just over 3,000 words per day in the middle of the month, and then goes back down Target for 11/1 is 244 words
October 31, 2025 at 10:32 PM
takatalvi.bsky.social
Mongke & Ubet have their first fight 😱
I did not expect or plan this, it just kind of happened. One of the joys of pantsing! 😆
(Sry again for wall of text- this story demands to be written on my phone)
#amwriting #Nomads #writesky #fantasy #romance #LGBTQ 🏳️‍🌈⚔️💘
“Ask,” Ubet signed. “Ask?” Mongke said, taken aback. “How’s that going to work? With us studded with arrows, probably.” That gave him an idea, though, and he dug for his bowstring. “I might be able to hit that person from here, or if I sneak a little closer. I don’t think they’ve noticed us yet.” Ubet’s arm hit his so hard that Mongke jerked back. Ubet’s face was like thunder, mouth tight, eyes blazing—the most expression Mongke had ever seen on it, though Ubet’s features had barely budged. “What?” Mongke said, feeling ashamed but not sure why. “Haven’t you ever stolen horses before? Sometimes you have to crack a few skulls.” “NO STEALING,” Ubet signed with sharp, forceful gestures. “We. Ask.” Those signs made slowly, but not with deliberation; Ubet’s hand practically trembling with rage-clenched muscles. “If you insist,” Mongke muttered. “But I’m going to have my bow at the ready.” He swung it from his shoulder. Ubet snatched the bow from his hand and flung it aside. “Hey!” Mongke lunged after it. “If you’ve broken it—” Ubet raised a foot to kick the bow; Mongke interposed his body, and the kick connected with his side. “Oh, that’s it!” he snarled. He pushed the bow—apparently unharmed, thank Tengur—out of reach and flew at Ubet. He was no match. Ubet caught him and twisted his arm behind his back so far that he arched and went up on his toes. Blinking back tears of pain, he Sometimes you have to crack a few skulls.” “NO STEALING,” Ubet signed with sharp, forceful gestures. “We. Ask.” Those signs made slowly, but not with deliberation; Ubet’s hand practically trembling with rage-clenched muscles. “If you insist,” Mongke muttered. “But I’m going to have my bow at the ready.” He swung it from his shoulder. Ubet snatched the bow from his hand and flung it aside. “Hey!” Mongke lunged after it. “If you’ve broken it—” Ubet raised a foot to kick the bow; Mongke interposed his body, and the kick connected with his side. “Oh, that’s it!” he snarled. He pushed the bow—apparently unharmed, thank Tengur—out of reach and flew at Ubet. He was no match. Ubet caught him and twisted his arm behind his back so far that he arched and went up on his toes. Blinking back tears of pain, he snarled wordlessly and kicked and stomped at Ubet’s legs and feet. Ubet twisted his arm further, and Mongke whimpered. “Fuck, Ubet, don’t break my arm—don’t break my bow—I need them!” Ubet loosened the twist a little, though not enough that Mongke could escape or do anything. Then he saw why. The red-draped herder was approaching up the slope, straight for them. “Fuuuuck,” Mongke moaned. Ubet released him, and he dropped to his knees, shaking out his arm and shoulder, mouth working wordlessly in pain and relief. Ubet strode past him toward the herder.
October 23, 2025 at 11:46 PM
takatalvi.bsky.social
Jeez, so many of the songs I'm adding to the #Nomads soundtrack are so depressing ☹️

Though to be fair, 1) I'm listening to Finnish #melodeath; 2) Mongke & Ubet have had hard, depressing lives, so the beginning of the soundtrack is full of songs about that 🙁

#amwriting #writesky
Dream bliss movement through coma Filtered feelings and senseless acts Injected thoughts, predictable future Destroyed bodies come with shattered egos Storm bent trees stripped of leaves Waiting for a spring that never comes Dried up roots aching for water Useless reach for an ever setting sun There is no reason to act For there is no tomorrow In a kingdom of failures Walk through fire just to get drowned
October 19, 2025 at 9:50 PM
takatalvi.bsky.social
They also joke about swapping coats in the morning 😁

#amwriting #Nomads #fantasy #romance #LGBTQ 🏳️‍🌈💘
"Who's going to wear your coat?" Every corner of Ubet's face was minutely lifted, as if on the brink of a smile. Was this the first time Ubet joked with him? Mongke felt a swell of warmth in his chest, that shouldn't ache so much. "If you wear my coat, should I wear yours?" Ubet had already put their shirt on, but their long sleeveless coat was still draped on a rock. The silk would have been ruined by the dunking the day before, if it hadn't already been splotchy from long wear out in the weather. The almost-smile on Ubet's face brightened still further. "You want to wear my coat?" "Mine is warmer," Mongke said quickly, and snatched up his own, with the feeling this was headed somewhere very uncomfortable very soon. Then he reddened—how selfish that sounded. "Well, mine is more—" A sign that Mongke didn't know, but from the elegant bend of Ubet's hand, he could guess. Mongke laughed. "It's a beauty, all right." To the sun-faded shoulders and the previous spots and stains were now added large paler swathes where the dye had run. "We'll be in the Desert soon. Your coat will be too warm." "Well, maybe we'll swap then."
October 16, 2025 at 3:29 AM
takatalvi.bsky.social
I was planning on channeling Brokeback Mountain in some other ways, but I wasn't planning on this, it just kind of happened 😄

#amwriting #writesky #Nomads #fantasy #romance #LGBTQ 🏳️‍🌈💘
"Take my blanket." "But you—" Mongke realized they didn't mean the blanket around their shoulders—which was his blanket. Ubet was pointing at their pack, the blanket roll strapped on top. He got up and detached it, wrapped it around himself. It wasn't that different from his own, a scratchy felted wool blanket in some shade of brown. Nameless ones could only use brown. Although it didn't matter anymore—but everything they had was from before, so everything they had was brown. It didn't smell like Ubet either—it smelled like camping, like woodsmoke and moldering leaves, and now also like river water. He supposed his own blanket probably smelled the same way. Yet, as he curled up by the fire, he couldn't help thinking—as perhaps Ubet had, wearing his coat earlier—that something of Ubet was wrapped around him.
October 16, 2025 at 3:29 AM
takatalvi.bsky.social
Actually this is the ending theme for #Nomads 😁 It fits the ending (where the title comes from). And the story does end happily (spoiler!)

“Stay a little while” can go somewhere in the second half, when things are uncertain 😣

#amwriting #fantasy #romance #LGBTQ ⚔️💘🏳️‍🌈
www.youtube.com/watch?v=KrzN...
So here we are Once again End of the line There's no way back now Let’s go, let's go You wanna live forever? The choice is now or never It's now or never The light is flashing inside me It’s now or never tonight Come with me
October 15, 2025 at 2:30 AM
takatalvi.bsky.social
"Just huddling together for warmth..."
Sure, and it's absolutely not going to lead to anything else 😈❤️‍🔥

(And no, I still haven't written the river-crossing scene, cause I'm writing this instead 😆)
#amwriting #writesky #Nomads #romance #LGBTQ 🏳️‍🌈
Ubet was slightly taller and slightly broader of shoulders, so it was strange that... Strange? They were just huddling together for warmth, so it didn't much matter, did it? He slid his arm back down Ubet's side, looped his arm around their body. His hand came to rest against their chest, between their folded arms. Ubet sighed softly and relaxed against him, which pressed his face against the back of their neck, through their hair. This was nice. Cozy and warm against the cold desert night, so close to someone after decades alone in a crowd.
October 14, 2025 at 4:25 AM
takatalvi.bsky.social
I thought I was going to write a hurt-comfort scene, but then Ubet was the one who knew how to stitch up a wound, so they had to do it themselves.
Mongke wanted to/tried to be comforting but didn’t really know how 😆
Man I love tropes, but I love messing with them even more
#amwriting #Nomads 💘🏳️‍🌈
"Let me do it," Mongke said, reaching out his hands. "Are you good?" Ubet signed. Mongke dropped his hands. "I've never sewn up a wound in my life." "I have. I'll do it." Ubet spread ointment from the clay pot on the wound, knotted the end of the thread, and began to sew. Mongke crouched, waiting. He couldn't take his eyes off the needle stabbing through skin, the thread being pulled tight, even though he winced with each pass. He'd never had to suffer through something like this. With Tainian, if he was injured, Falconbow had made the mages heal him, even though they didn't usually bother with nameless ones. And luckily, he'd not yet been injured after striking out on his own. Now that there were no mages left, anyway. With Ubet's position, though... Had they not received similar privileged treatment? Or was this only because they were out in the field? They'd said they'd sewn up a wound before. Just how many times, how badly had they been wounded? His eyes ascended to Ubet's face. There was a tightness there, the shadow of a grimace. Otherwise, the other's harsh, stuttering breath was the only sign of what they were enduring. Finally, they finished, knotted up the thread and bit off the end. Only then did Mongke think of something he could do—he fished out his water canteen and held it out to Ubet, so they could wash their hands and arm and needle, and have a drink of water.
October 7, 2025 at 12:39 AM
takatalvi.bsky.social
Wow, found this on just the right day, as Ubet, one of the characters in the new story that I started yesterday ( #Nomads) is non-binary 😄🏳️‍⚧️
Not many of the other characters know this, but Mongke picked up on it & is intrigued.. 🤔👀
(Sry for wall of text; writing on my phone. Snip is SFW!)
#Caulktober
It wasn't an idle threat. He'd spent his life hunting with the best archer on the steppe. He wouldn't dare call himself second best, but he knew he was close. A more concerted rustling and leaves moving, though not a lot. Not an animal then, at least not an easily spooked one. Someone or something moving carefully, stealthily. Belatedly he realized he'd spoken in Aoki, which no one for thousands of leagues was likely to understand. Well, hopefully whoever it was had gotten the message. He raised the bow, drew back the string, and aimed for the center of the rustling. A tall figure stepped out, into the edge of the firelight. A familiar figure. The long sleeveless coat in the Desert style, open in the front, silky fabric gleaming in the firelight; the dark skin, a shade darker than his own; the long black hair pulled back in a braid; the teardrop-shaped eyes tilted down at the outer corners, making the face look always sad, the most distinctive mark of someone from the Southern Desert. Ubet. The man—or not quite a man, he felt—that he'd traveled with last time he was in the Forest of a Thousand Streams. The Domine of Caran's spymaster. Who had stayed behind at Reusen to keep an eye on the Consul of Caran. "What are you doing spying on me?" Again, he'd spoken Aoki. He tried again in Sev-Halla. "What—you--" He didn't know the word for "spying." "Following--me?" Ubet signed something, but Mongke had no idea what it meant.
October 5, 2025 at 10:12 PM
takatalvi.bsky.social
I can only give you the very beginning of the chapter, cause all the rest is too awful to post here.
Don't worry..it gets worse 😣
#amwriting #writingcommunity #ITN
Teshem ground his eyes open, despite their gritty, bleary resistance. Pounding in his temples…his mind awash in fog… Distant aches filtered in from all over his body, and…and…inside his mind— A dull throbbing ache at the base of his skull, as though he’d been bludgeoned inside his head, and a wave of nausea when he thought about it. He closed his eyes and just lay there for a moment, and the nausea faded—but the ache remained. What had happened? Where was he? He was lying on hard ground, rock and gravel. When he cracked his eyes open again, the uniform gloom of a tent loomed overhead. He rolled—pain stabbed from his shoulder to his collarbone; he rolled the other way, groaning as every muscle protested. Someone might hear, but who cared? After everything that had happened— Everything that had happened. The red-draped figure sitting at the far end of the tent.
October 5, 2025 at 9:38 PM
takatalvi.bsky.social
Who knew rush hour traffic could be so inspiring! Composed a whole new version of one of the #EOD epilogues on this slow rainy drive
#amwriting #writingcommunity #fantasy #romance #LGBTQ 🏳️‍🌈💘
Among the piled foodstuffs was a chunk of bread that Naza must have pilfered from the Cerindor camp. Kuya pulled off a piece and held it out to Sareb—then stopped. Sareb stopped too. They were both holding the piece of bread, fingertips touching, but that was not why their eyes found each other, wide with the new meaning of this act.
September 16, 2025 at 10:10 PM
takatalvi.bsky.social
Sareb accepts a side quest.
#ITN #amwriting #fantasy
Why shouldn’t he draw on the Sword? Show them what it felt like to be helpless, to see everyone you loved annihilated? He sucked in a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair, trying to still his shaking. Was that the Sword speaking? Was it now speaking to him, through him, as well? But if those were his own thoughts— He pushed all of it from his head. It was a shaman’s job to help, to heal, not to hurt. To do otherwise was dark magic. Dark magic that he’d reached out to, asked Naza to teach him. Dark magic that he’d perhaps been using all along. And so had Naza. Especially Naza. All those times she had spoken in a clear, deep voice, all those times she had suddenly become awesomely powerful—the power in the Sword had been showing itself through her, just as it now showed itself through Stormwind. He glanced sidelong at Naza. She was so small, so young, and the Gladiari had put this on her. Chained her to the Sword, made her its vehicle. Stormwind had at least gone somewhat willingly, but Naza, he suspected, had had no choice at all. Was there some way to free her? As the others sought Caelisse and to reunite the shards of the Sword, he decided, he would seek a way to free Naza. The fire in him flickered upward, reaching out long, lazy tendrils of flame, almost as if hungrily.
September 13, 2025 at 7:42 PM
takatalvi.bsky.social
It's a bit long, but I think this is the most interesting instance of "recent" that I have 😁
One of my fave convos from #ITN. Sareb had a strong drink for the 1st time - Kuya's trying to get him to lie down, but Sareb seems intent on causing trouble 😈
#WIPSnips #amwriting #LGBTQ #romance 🏳️‍🌈
“Are you saying I’m not attractive?” Sareb demanded, still loud, swaying in Kuya’s grip and not making much progress toward the gert. “No, that’s not it…” Kuya was consumed with heat now, as though he’d stepped way too close to the fire. “You’re…” Beautiful? Amazing? “You’re… just fine.” Sareb snorted. “That’s all?” Kuya laughed, a few stilted gasps that escaped before he could stop them, and then decided to roll with it. No one would care if they were just joking around, right? “What do you want me to say? That you’re the most beautiful man alive?” “That’s more like it,” Sareb said. They were almost at the gert, but Kuya wasn’t taking any more chances. He decided to change the subject. “Do your people really not drink spirits?” Sareb snorted again. “No.” “Oh, I thought that was why…” “We’re not supposed to, but people do anyway. Haven’t you ever broken the rules?” Sareb asked gleefully. He and Tenzin had, of course, many times, but much more recent intentions came to mind now. “Um…” “Come on, everyone breaks the rules at some point.” Sareb tried to turn to face him, but Kuya kept on pushing him toward the gert. They were so close, and it didn’t even seem like anyone was paying attention to them. “There’s got to be some Gladiari rule that everyone breaks,” Sareb went on. “I wouldn’t know about that,” Kuya insisted. Sareb managed to twist partway around, looking up at him, a drunken, puzzled grin on his face, his shoulder pressed to Kuya’s chest, his arm resting on Kuya’s hip. He was so close, so deviously fetching, that Kuya was possessed of a mad desire to break a rule right then and there.
August 22, 2025 at 5:31 PM
takatalvi.bsky.social
But for Teshem, things are much worse 😣
(warning: abuse)
#amwriting #ITN #queerbooksky #fantasy 🏳️‍🌈
“You’re useless,” the Consul snarled, and turned toward the numeri. “Where was the desert-dweller found?” “He was in the decadarchos’s tent, nos Consul,” came Oalea’s strident voice. The Consul spun back toward Teshem. Teshem hadn’t thought it possible for the Consul’s rage to grow any hotter, but it did. “He snuck into the camp,” the Consul roared, “just for a tumble in your tent?” What?! He wanted to deny it, but he still couldn’t seem to speak. And if he denied it, then he would still have to answer the question of why Sareb came… “He did?” the Consul roared, apparently taking his silence and shame for an admission of guilt, and now he did actually grab Teshem’s shirt, lift him off the ground, shake him. Teshem drooped, half swooning. It was all over, after all. He dimly wondered why the Consul hated Sareb so much, when the others tolerated or maybe even approved of him.
August 21, 2025 at 5:37 PM
takatalvi.bsky.social
Well, things aren't exactly great when Sareb rejoins the Tainian siblings.
#amwriting #ITN #booksky #fantasy
“The mage is tired,” Frostarrow said. “We should let him rest.” “There will be time to rest when all this is done.” Stormwind stared hard through him, at things beyond what the others could see. “All of what, sister?” Frostarrow asked softly. His face was more drawn than when Sareb had left. Stormwind touched the hilt of the sword that hung from her belt, but said nothing, her eyes still distant. “You have your sword and your soul again, sister. Please, let’s just go home.” Stormwind shook her head slowly. “I—I can’t.” She seemed to be struggling to speak. “I can’t—stop it.”
August 21, 2025 at 5:32 PM