notwritinganyflufftoday

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

Farewell my Eyjafjörður | What if?

In honour of Yuri Days I'm sharing a little scene that will most likely never make it to the book itself. It's the cumulation of both of their dreams. What if Sigga hadn't left? What if they escaped the murderous spirits? What if? Enjoy <3

Sigga's fingers rush over the keyboard. Even though the sheet music for Saint-Saëns' The Swan lies open on top of the piano, black notes inviting Sigga to follow in their footsteps, Sigga doesn't seem to pay much attention to them. Instead her eyes are closed, fully enveloped in the music. She pushes herself deeper until the world around her begins to fade. Each tone leads her to the next, forming a tapestry as rich as she can.

"Hæ, Sigga," a voice behind her says. At those words the world slowly reforms around her until she can open her eyes again to find herself back in her living room.

"You do know there are happy pieces too, right? I mean, you have four bookshelves filled with sheet music. I'm sure you can find something that sounds happy, or maybe neutral? You should try out that piece from that French film we watched!"

Sigga turns around to find Sera leaning against the door. Her messy brown hair is tied up in a bun secured by a pencil. She's dressed in a rabbit onesie that she must have had for over ten years now, barely reaching down to her knees to reveal rainbow coloured socks. Sigga is sure the onesie must have been white at some point in its lifetime, but its current look is one covered in years worth of paint splatters.

"If you're talking about Comptine d'un autre Été I will throw you out of this house right now, you know," she replies. "I'm not even sure if you could move in with the sheep, they seem to dislike it as much as I do. Also, you do know the title of your favourite piece is translated as Love's Sorrow, right?"

Sigga does her best to keep up a serious face, the stern one befitting of a teacher or lawyer, but after a few seconds she can't help but letting go a rare giggle. Sera hops over to her and shoves, albeit gently, Sigga to the side of her stool and sits next to her. She plucks the pencil from her bun and draws a little heart on Saint-Saëns's i.

"There, that should cheer this piece up. Poor guy," she says, her voice as soft as the spring snow.

Sigga's smile grows even wider. The sheet music is only a suggestion, after all, the perfect canvas for Sera's scribbles.

"Here, I'll teach you to play that 'French one' so you will stop bothering me about it," she says, doing her best to hold back a chuckle. She picks up Sera's hand and at that moment her heart skips a beat. Even though it's been months since the events in the Eyjafjörður, she still isn't used to touching her again. Truth be told she isn't sure how she survived their first kiss.

"You okay?" asks Sera, observant as always.

"Better than," Sigga replies, placing Sera's hand on the keys, putting her fingers in the correct spots with the same care as when Sigga is playing the keys herself.

"This key is the E right? And that one the B."

"Yeah, that's all you need to know really. Now if you place your second finger here," she says while nudging Sera's fingers down, "and alternate those you've got the first bar already."

She let's go of Sera's hand to let her try it out for a bit. Her playing is a bit irregular and uncertain, the keys of a piano completely different to the strings of a violin, but the notes come straight from her heart. Sigga closes her eyes. She never thought this piece would ever make her feel anything, but the world is full of surprises, surprises stranger than murderous ghosts.

"Okay, think I've got that down. Now what?"

"You move your entire hand one down and repeat the same pattern, but keep your second finger on the same key."

Effortless, Sera plays the next bar, her playing steadier than the previous two bars as well. She grins, her eyes radiating with a sense of accomplishment.

Sera continues to learn, taking each instruction from Sigga to heart until the sun has reached far below the sea and left the two in the soft amber hue of their lamp.

"You're allowed to play this one time a day, okay? I'm not sure if I will survive otherwise," Sigga says half-jokingly. Sera nods as she sets out to place the piece from beginning to end.

"I love you," she adds, though Sera is so focused on playing the correct notes that she isn't sure if she heard. It doesn't matter though, she knows.

-x-

Tagging @notwritinganyflufftoday here it is!

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

A Smooch for Yuri Day

A small snippet for Tara and Celia of A Little Prayer for Lonely Gods.

This is a (non-canon?) first kiss from Tara's pov, providing an insight into her budding relationship with Celia and how trying to resist it is proving to be rather ineffective.

It started as a way to keep her hands busy. If Tara's fingers are carding through Celia's hair, they're way less likely to clench with anger, nails biting into her palms until they draw blood.

No, when she's caressing Celia's hair, having her Goddess rest her head on Tara's lap, the anger simply disappears. It ebbs away, leaving behind only the soft stirrings of her heart.

Being with Celia brings her peace. She can leave her worries at the door and sink into Celia's comforting darkness, spending some quality time in a quiet place created for just the two of them.

Celia obviously enjoys their shared activity too, if her closed eyes and soft snores are any indication. The world hasn't been kind to her either, not always. So the fact Celia trusts her enough to fall asleep in her presence —in her lap— shatters Tara's defences. Her walls have never been that strong around Celia, but the small part of her that should know better than to fall for a Goddess, goes up in flames.

How can she persist with her callous façade, when she has Celia melting at the touch of her fingertips?

Tara leans down, her head hovering above Celia's. Mouths almost touching but not quite.

And then she remembers who she is, who Celia is, and that this is not supposed to happen between them. It can't happen.

Before she can move back and pretend nothing has happened —in fact nothing had happened, because she stopped herself on time— Celia's eyes open. Midnight blue meets burning amber. Her gaze is not angry or confused, no, she seems pleasantly surprised.

"Go ahead," she says oh so sweetly, pretending to be unaware of how dangerous her tempting invitation is.

"We shouldn't," Tara replies. Resistance is futile, they both know it.

Celia smiles. It always reaches her eyes before her mouth curls up too. Tara feels her hand on the back of her neck as she whispers, "And yet, we both know you're not going to stop me."

She pulls Tara in, first with her hand curled in Tara's hair and then with her mouth, still smiling as they kiss. Their lips collide none too gently, finally done with playing this coy game.

Neither of them are gullible or innocent or naive enough to believe that this won't change anything between them.

It changes everything.

Tara knows what Celia tastes like now and the noises she makes when Tara bites her lip. Soon enough she'll see how pretty Celia is with her lips all swollen and red and she'll want more.

For the rest of her life she'll never stop wanting more.

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

absolutely love abusing the power that comes with 3rd person limited pov and just ignoring things and being vague sometimes. does the character know all the details? no? then I don't have to either.

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

Draft 2 - Chapter 4 complete

9.5k/100k

Snippet below the cut:

"If you don't wish to go, I can't force you," Orval's words pull Sasha from his thoughts. "but if you manage to awaken this God in Astra Lacuna, he would be a powerful ally at your side. A God... owing a human a favour."

That's an undeniably tempting proposition, but it must come with some caveats.

"I'm assuming that will be harder than it sounds. Waking up a God, I mean."

"Perhaps not as easy as you would like, but not impossible either. If you bring him to where stars perpetually fall from the sky and speak to him, he will wake from his slumber."

Sasha asks, "What would I even say to him?"

"What you do with any God you worship, you pray to him."

If only it is as straigthforward as Orval claims, worshiping any God at any time, no loyalty needed, no sacrifices made.

"I'm a follower of Lady Odila, my piety belongs to her."

Orval only raises his eyebrows, looking mildly perplexed, and all he says is, "Interesting."

Sasha doubles down as for some reason Orval doesn't believe him. "I'm loyal to her and her alone."

He holds up his hand to stop Sasha. "I understand," a glint of pearly white teeth shines in the dark, "seeing as you're a faithful follower of Odila, I will offer you a deal... that's how it works with her, is it not?"

Sasha nods begrudgingly.

"Unlike hers, my deals are fair and true and don't change when it's time to pay up," Orval says with a disgruntled tone that speaks of experience, "If you go to Astra Lacuna and awaken this God, not one, but two Gods will be indebted to you."

"Who else?" Sasha asks.

Orval's smile widens, his lavender eyes practically glow. "Me."

Taglist: @eatinghemlocks, @foxgloves-garden, @sarandipitywrites, @northwyrm, @trixierosewrites,

@walkman-cat, @asher-writes, @seastarblue, @aloeverawrites, @firesidefantasy

@tracle0, @thelaughingstag, @nekrops-shaped, @frantheram, @cacophonyofwords

@sunshineomeara, @zonnemaagd, @cheeto-flavoured-pasta, @inadequatecowboy

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

more windows should be stained glass. Just in general

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

dont tell any of my friends or mutuals but....their ocs are really cool.................

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

Draft 2 - Chapter 3 complete

7.5k/100k

snippet below cut:

At the other end of the table the conversation turns to the renovations. Two acolytes arguing about it, to be more accurate.

"We wouldn't be in this kind of trouble if our Liege had joined the Triune," a young acolyte says, "we'd have enough coin to build ourselves an entirely new temple."

"That's preposterious. Next you're gonna say we should've build our Sovereign's temple inside the hill two hundred years ago to prevent the storm from hitting it last month."

"Well... maybe?"

"Pah, our Liege is testing our strength of will, our grit in the face of hardship and you, my friend, are sorely lacking in both," The other, equally baby-faced, acolyte scoffs.

"All I'm saying is that our Liege missed out on getting the backing of the most powerful Gods-"

A harsh clang of an apple cider cup on the wooden table breaks up the argument. A hush falls over the dining hall as an old, weasily-looking acolyte stands up slowly and glares at the rowdy squabblers.

"The Triune, the most powerful Gods," he spits, "what a load of hogwash. You young'uns may believe the Triune to be the epitome of divine might, but you weren't even born when the God Regent was sitting on the throne. The Triune's power can't hold a candle to his. Our Sovereign is right to keep their distance, managing their affairs without interference from other Gods. After all these years our Liege is the only God left with a sensible mind."

The older generation has memories of a bygone era of an iron-fisted empire where any resistance or criticism would be met with unmitigated subjugation. And so they still speak about the God Regent with fearful respect, even though he disappeared half a century ago.

No one seems surprised at the tirade, as it might be a daily point of contention in these desperate times —the renovations.

Taglist: @eatinghemlocks, @foxgloves-garden, @sarandipitywrites, @northwyrm, @trixierosewrites,

@walkman-cat, @asher-writes, @seastarblue, @aloeverawrites, @firesidefantasy

@tracle0, @thelaughingstag, @nekrops-shaped, @frantheram, @cacophonyofwords

@sunshineomeara, @zonnemaagd, @cheeto-flavoured-pasta, @inadequatecowboy

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

Wondering if I'm actually stressed about writing being difficult or if I'm just upset because I accidentally dropped cat food on my foot earlier.

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

when people like your OCs it is truly one of the best feelings ever. but when they also UNDERSTAND your OCs??? When they say or do something that just makes you go "oh they get it." UNBEATABLE.

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

Someone come save me. Its 25 degrees celcius

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

rb to stare at a mutual like this:

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

your draft isn’t bad. it’s just going through its awkward teenager phase. let it wear a hoodie and slam its door.

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

A lil reminder for you today. The amount of words you did or didn’t write today doesn’t define your worth as a writer

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

Reblog this post to ask mutuals to tell you their weirdest theory about u

EDIT: Fair warning this post is cursed and predictions are 7/10 times correct, play at own risk

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

Looking for Writeblrs!

my dash is more dead than I would like, so I'm looking to find some more writeblrs to follow! What I would like to see more of:

25+ writers. I'll check out the blogs of writers who are younger but I would like to find more writers closer to my own age

Sci-fi and high fantasy are my favorite genres. bonus points if you blend them.

queer characters existing in spaces, romance not required.

I'm not the biggest fan of contemporary or historical lit

Engagement with other writeblrs is a big thing for me, I very much want to connect more with the community

Reblog and tell me about your wips! In the interest of wanting to build more engagement with blogs I follow, I'm not going to be checking out blogs that simply like this post without engaging with it in any other way.

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

guysssss, i really wanna read y'all's books because i have gotten so invested in some of these characters so ummm,,, please write so i can read

ty

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

i am back on the threesome fic and i'm gonna finish this draft today i stg

“There are some fun people in Menzoberranzan, if you know where to look.” “And how many turn you down because they already slept with your dad?” Zeth’rinn made a face. “Could we not bring up my father mid-threesome?” “Apt place to bring him, I’d have thought.” “Will both of you shut up?” Krebbyg grumbled. “How do you ever manage to get a decent fuck out of each other if this is what you do when you’re naked in bed?”