#magic the gathering fanfiction

[yellingaboutmasseffect]

Chapters: 3/5 Fandom: Magic: The Gathering (Card Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ayara/Urabrask (Magic: The Gathering) Characters: Ayara (Magic: The Gathering), Urabrask (Magic: The Gathering) Additional Tags: Fairy Tale Elements, Set: March of the Machine (Magic: The Gathering), Plane: Eldraine (Magic: The Gathering), Phyrexians as a people who are capable of good or bad but most have been ground down by a Society TM, voluntary compleation, Not Canon Compliant, no beta we die like tibalt, Cultural Differences Summary:

For Ayara, First of Locthwain, the start of the Phyrexian invasion of Eldraine was the beginning of a fairytale that she had long given up on being possible.

For Urabrask, meeting Ayara was the start of his fairytale but Phyrexians were not used to experiencing such things. Seeing Ayara was love at first sight and he had no idea what to do next.

Rating subject to change depending on the last chapter

-

First three parts of my Furnace Spouses Fic is up!

[bace-jeleren]

Happy one-year anniversary for Steel and Oil by @chefwhatnot featuring a slowburn between the most patient woman in the multiverse and her extremely catholic eight-foot-tall roommate with mommy issues ♡

Honestly, though, it's been a delight reading about Jaxis and Atraxa growing to trust each other, I'm always looking forward to more!

[heracrosshero]

Making a return

Massacre Girl stood still in the middle of the room, listening to Aurelia's gentle breaths. Gentle isn't something Massacre Girl would ever associate with the Boros archangel, nor was vulnerable. It was abundantly clear to her that there would never be a better opportunity to assassinate a guildmaster, especially of the Boros. Just one quick drag of a dagger, and all of Ravnica would be in an uproar by morning.

It would be. so. easy. Massacre Girl fantasized about all the angelic blood pouring out of Aurelia's neck. Of how it would stain the white linen sheets she rested upon. Oh to see those sheets ripped to shreds from her blades. To see the briefest moment when the pain would shock Aurelia awake, only for the bloodloss to instantly pull that consciousness away... Forever.

Massacre girl imagined what an angel's wings drenched in blood and guts would look like. What shade of red would they turn? What noises would escape Aurelia's throat as it was cut? How would her strong arms feel around Massacre Girl's waist?

...What was that last one?

The Rakdos woman mentally stuttered to redirect her thoughts away from that anomaly. However, each attempt only lead to new paths of strange curiosity quite unrelated to bloodshed. Aurelia's deep, booming voice, reduced to a sweet whisper in her ear. Those soft, downy wings acting as a thick blanket over her back.

What was happening here?!

Try as she might, Massacre Girl couldn't separate her usual bloodlust from this new lust. These feelings twisted together into a lightning storm in her brain and body. As an assassin, Massacre Girl was always professional; the definition cold blooded killer. However, as a Rakdos cultist, her nature was to follow her emotions, not to hide from them.

And while this turmoil wracked Massacre Girl, Aurelia continued to slumber without a care in the world.

How insufferable

Massacre Girl finally decided on a new path to take. She needed time to process, but she'd be damned if she walked away here without a victory over Aurelia. Massacre Girl drew out a thing dagger from its sheath without a sound. She slid her feet across the cold floor until her head loomed over the angel's prone body. With the tip of her weapon, she shifted Aurelia's dusk-red hair away from her neck.

With a swipe like the blink of an eye, Massacre Girl cut a lock of that hair. Holding this trophy in her hands, she grinned and leered at Aurelia.

Now to leave a calling card. Otherwise she might not notice I gave her a tiny trim.

Massacre Girl reached down to her belt and tucked away the hair. Then, she unhooked a black collar and leash that she had carried with her, just on a whim. Massacre Girl gingerly placed the collar and leash on the bedside table next to Aurelia. Then she briefly went back into the entry room of Aurelia's quarters and found pen and paper to write a note. With her surprise complete, Massacre Girl felt satisfied enough with herself to leave before she pushed her luck too far. She had been humiliated by herself enough tonight, she wasn't going to wait for Aurelia to wake up and do worse.

With one last glance at that beautiful, insufferable soldier, Massacre Girl slipped out of the room and back into the dark, stark halls.

When Aurelia awoke the next morning, she rubbed her eyes and stretched before noticing the object left on her table. Fire blazed in her pupils and her heart rate shot up as she lunged to grab the collar she had once put on Massacre Girl to keep her in check. Attached to it was a short note in scratchy handwriting:

"Returning this to you. Had a fun time wearing it.

P.S you should really redecorate in here, it's boring. XOXO, M.G."

[jasper-the-menace]

Satoru Umezawa ducked behind a corner, holding his breath until he was certain the compleated Reckoners had continued past his hiding place. Once the only thing he heard around him was his own beating heart, he let out a long sigh. The Phyrexian invasion was taking its toll on the plane, especially in Towashi, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up his hit-and-run tactics. His right ankle was making its displeasure known, so he shifted his weight over to his left leg.

All over the city – no, the plane – people were still fighting the invaders and their compleated friends and family. Greasefang and her Okiba Reckoners had taken point as the main defenders once the Imperials fell, and the Mukotai and Dokuchi Reckoners were teaming up with the Futurists to slip past enemy lines and rescue those that they could. The Hyozan Reckoners... Satoru didn’t know how many of his Reckoners were still in their right minds.

He took a deep breath and darted back through the streets of Towashi, striking Phyrexians as he passed to draw them away from others fighting for the sake of Kamigawa. Keep moving, don’t stop, don’t let them corner you. This was how Satoru had lived this long, so he stuck to that theory until he couldn’t force himself to keep moving any longer.

Satoru pressed his back to the outer wall of one of the few buildings in Towashi not overtaken by metal and raised his sword, trying to catch his breath and count the Phyrexians closing in on him at the same time. A glance upwards revealed more Phyrexians waiting on the nearby rooftops.

One of the compleated Kamigawans, once a Mukotai Reckoner based on what few tattoos remained on what was once skin, stepped forward to fight Satoru. Satoru raised his sword, bracing himself for the worst.

A roar echoed out, and a spirit in the form of a dragon plowed through the Phyrexians surrounding Satoru. An akki in pieced-together samurai armor darted past the Phyrexians. Another dragon spirit burst forth from the akki’s lightning-cloaked sword, latching its maw around the Phyrexian Reckoner’s arm and tearing it and the sword from the monster’s grip.

Satoru lunged, his tattoos flaring to life, and drove his blade into the throat of the former Reckoner. He followed the body down to the ground and tore his blade sideways through the metal and flesh. The akki summoned several more dragon spirits from the lightning of his blade, sending them after more of the Phyrexians, and stopped by Satoru.

“All good?” the akki asked, perhaps a little louder than he needed to.

“I am now. Thank you for the save.” Satoru straightened up and rolled his right shoulder. “I am Satoru Umezawa.”

“Goro-Goro, disciple of Ryusei!” Goro-Goro raised his sword, and the dragon spirits circled around the two as the Phyrexians were sent running.

Ryusei. The previous incarnation of Atsushi, if Satoru was remembering right. Perhaps the akki still called the dragons by the names of their previous incarnations? Whatever the case may be, Satoru knew better than to turn down help, regardless of how strange that help was. “Shall we continue bringing the fight to them?” Satoru offered. Goro-Goro nodded excitedly, raising his sword. The dragon spirits shot off after the retreating Phyrexians.

Satoru felt himself grin as he and Goro-Goro followed them. Maybe, just maybe, Kamigawa stood a chance of surviving this.

[harpagornis]

Lightshell Duo

When stepping into Three Tree, Robert felt overwhelmed. Even at the docks, there were so many individuals and species that his upbringing in an isolated rat village could muster. He felt disorientated, and his heart began to race. His mind twisted like a snail's shell, and he was almost tempted to board a boat out of there, were there any availiable for such a task.

"You okay?"

A voice made its way into the snail path of the mind, and Robert's face darted. He was rewarded with a kind face: an otterfolk's, presumably around his age.

"I am now" he said.

He really could help but to stare into the ace of his saviour, and he immediately grew self conscious, looking aside. The fact that the otter snickered a bit only made the rat more embarassed. But, as much as he tried, he couldn't look away.

"Name's Shae" the otter said, extending a paw.

Carefully, Robert shook it, with as much reservation as if it was covered in thorns or venomous.

"R-Robert."

"Well R-Robert, may I invite you in? I know a socially anxious face when I see one."

Robert was distrustful, as typical for a ratfolk. But really, what were his options? He was hoping to stay at an inn or some other hospitable place, but even that might have had too many people for his comfort.

"I'd be delighted" he said, trying not to stutter as before.

***

"Make yourself at home!" Shae said enthusiastically.

Stepping into the raftboat, Robert was amazed by what the open door revealed. So many trinkets and treasures, and even a few familiar possessions like clam shells. He was truly feeling at home already.

"Wow, you have so many things."

"Knew you'd like it. I mean, I know ratfolk like their possessions, so I just assumed."

Robert could feel some shyness from the otter, and that made him more relaxed. They were on more equal footing now. His curiosity was drawn to some of the possessions, which glowed with the might of thunder while still being trapped.

"What are those?" the rat asked.

"Oh, those are spells I caught. You see, we otterfolk store magic in our blinkies, to remind ourselves of the wild rides we have."

He grabbed one, a pot incandescent with blue.

"Here, this was when I chased the typhon python. Over there was when I chased the sun hawk itself!"

"So amazing" Robert said, "I came here to study the weaving of other animalfolk, and your ways are helping my research a lot!"

"Glad to hear it."

"It's only fair I share some of mine."

The rat laid down his sack, and pulled out his most precious heirloom.

"Here, this shell was passed down by my family by generations. Each one of us itterates upon its mind spell, so it becomes easier to meditate and clear the mind. Some of us have also added some other spells of its own. I'd like to add mine eventually, and your trinkets inspire me."

"Oh?"

"Would you like to show me how you gather your spells?"

***

Robert knew it was insane, and yet it was still prefferable to the raucous of the city.

The waves crested as Eluge's influence shifted the wild waters, forming a storm above.

"Ready?" Shae asked.

Robert nodded, and he steered the boat. It was surprisingly easy to learn, and he hoped that the otter's weaving was just as easy as well.

Shae extended his arms, feeling the wild currents in the waters and air. Lightning struck, and he didn't hesitate: wild currents struck his paw, each a conduit, and he released it into the snail shell. Then just as quickly he sealed it shut, and relied on the already existing weaving to prevent it from exploding.

The result was a brilliant blue light framed by a solid spiral. Both Shae and Robert were amazed, brought together by this shared item

“Lightning and snail as one!” cried the rat. “It’s so beautiful!” the otter gasped in awe.

Robert was enraptured by joy, and blurted:

"Not as beautiful as you."

[lexxlikes]

The invasion of Ravnica

I found it kinda sad, that we didn't get enough "The Multivers fights the Phyrexian" and so I've had the idea to write a little story about the Invasion of Ravnica and what the guilds might have learned after Bolas. Hope you like! (Yeah... there are some more gilds... but I kinda focused on my favorites. And yes: I do like the Azorius-Fun-Police-Senat)

RAVNICA

As the dark-skinned elf roamed the streets of Ravnica to run his errands, he was accompanied by a persistent, uneasy feeling. It wasn't nausea from bad mussels or a night of drinking. It was the feeling that gave you the creeps. The feeling, or rather, the instinct that is anchored in us to immediately take flight without knowing exactly where to go and why. The tension and adrenaline that ensured that all muscles were ready for immediate action. Eule, the courier, could not explain where these almost omen-like thoughts came from. Admittedly, he had survived the invasion by the God-Pharaoh Nicol Bolas and, as a Dimir agent, was entitled to a healthy dose of paranoia. But this feeling was... different. He had spent the whole morning trying to work out the reason for it and logically get to grips with his feelings. But in vain. Perhaps there were so many little things that you didn't even pay attention to in everyday life, but which subconsciously kept you constantly occupied. The fact that more and more of these strange symbols had appeared in the city. A circle divided vertically by a long line. Strange cloud formations. The way the light fell on the tin road. It all didn't feel... right.

Arriving at the Guild's headquarters, he looked at the still large, circular hole gaping in the building. It was a silent memorial to all who had fallen in that battle and a lasting reminder that they were not alone. It wasn't just crazy dragon planeswalkers out there in the multiverse. A millennia-old war was brought to these streets and so many innocent people died. And not only that. The city was forever changed. The hole Eule stood in front of and in the distance you could still see the last remains of Vitu Ghazi. The tree that was forced into an elemental and went down fighting. Many of the inhabitants of Ravnica therefore met the familiar planeswalkers with fear. Ral Zarek, guild leader of the Izzet, didn't care - God knows he had more important problems - but there was a negative mood among the population. The ignorance of what a Planeswalker was mixed with the fear of what else was out there and the shattering realisation that there was an "out there" at all. Ravnica was a planet and a single city. It already made you feel small and sometimes insignificant. But now?

The elf's blue eyes stared at the sky, lost in thought, as if he would find answers there. In a way, this was also true when these strange symbols appeared in the sky. But only for a moment, until the circle simply opened up and a kind of portal appeared. Organic-looking roots clad in whitish-looking metal snaked through it and after a short time the ground broke open. Similar outgrowths erupted here too and while Eule's bag was still falling to the ground and he was running, he realised one thing: Ravnica was being invaded again.

Azorius Senate

It would never quite come out in the open - and frankly, it didn't matter - why the Azorius were able to react so quickly to the attack. Rumour had it that it was the precognition mages, who had fuzzy visions of the future but saw enough for Lavina, the interim guild leader, to prepare for anything. After the invasion of the Mad God, they wanted to be able to act more quickly in the event of future interplanetary conflicts. In a small circle of 30 selected members of the Azorius, various emergency procedures and sub-clauses were drawn up, which made a quick reaction on the part of the Senate possible and also legally legitimised it. It was hoped that these clauses would never have to be invoked, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

This foresight of the clairvoyant magicians made them feel uneasy that morning. Without being able to catch any concrete glimpses of the future, their statement put the entire senate on heightened alert. However, only the relevant members of the "Meeting Committee for the Prevention and Security of Ravnica and its Guilds", or M.C.F.T.P.A.S.O.R.A.I.G for short, were informed of this. Not only did this committee consist exclusively of members of the Azorius Senate, but it was also broadly diversified in order to ideally bundle the individual focuses and specialisations of the guilds and, if necessary - like today - to direct them in an effective action plan against an as yet unknown enemy. So couriers were sent out and - just to be on the safe side - Sonnenheim was put on standby. Maybe it was nothing. Perhaps it was a good exercise, because something like Nicol Bolas should never happen again.

Lavina wasted precious seconds at her office window as her mind tried to interpret what her eyes saw there. Huge, metallic tentacle-like outgrowths seemed to be coming out of holes directly in the ground and sky. These "tendrils" looked as if they were encased in a white metal, but the reflective glow didn't seem to match metal and it looked more like porcelain. Lavina's focus then centred on the portals and what the brown eyes saw behind them was a living nightmare. A nightmare of metal, precision and perfection.

With a quick movement, she opened the tightly closed, metallic tube on her belt and pulled out a piece of parchment. Immediately it unfurled its magic and all of Ravnica was warned.

The three gigantic, triangular pillars surrounding the fountain inside New Pravh immediately shone with a warm, bright light, while all the previous sky runes were extinguished at once. The previous law changes and announcements gave way to the urgent message that Ravnica was once again under siege and all defence protocols had been activated. Citizens were advised to seek shelter calmly and without panic or not to leave their homes. In view of the chaos that had already ensued, these words seemed like a farce.

Seconds later, various airlocks opened in the three towers of the Azorius Senate building and an uncountable number of Thopthers - a retained change from the previous guild leader - swarmed out like a gigantic swarm of bees. The task of the metallic fliers was to warn all the districts of Ravnica, but also to broadcast visually over the entire city - or at least the 10th district. 

At the same time, countless Verdalken mages gathered on the ground at the large, central fountain in New Pravh. Various hand movements followed in practised synchrony and after the nullification mages rose into the air, a transparent dome formed around the Senate headquarters. No spell would now be able to penetrate the seat of the Laws. Runes of pure light flew around the mages, whose concentrated gaze became filled with fear after a moment. From their elevated position, they could see what they were up against. They had survived Bolas. But this was a completely different category of enemy.

The defence of the Senate building against the metallic, insectoid warriors was taken over by the members of the Lyev Column. The trained special unit for internal security immediately streamed out of the main buildings, clad in shining silver and blue capes. Armed with lances, swords and warhammers, the melee fighters positioned themselves around the Senate itself, while other units consisting of battle-hardened paladins and powerful clerics took care of the protection of the citizens. Various units, some even on horseback, were now also spread throughout the city and the first clashes between attackers and defenders could be heard loudly.

Boros legion

Aurelia, the red-haired angel and guild leader of the Boros, read the news of Lavinia with concern. As much as the angel lived for the battle, she hoped for the safety of her city and its inhabitants. And this could never be guaranteed in a war. As the Boros had to reckon with unexpected training sessions every day, the many members were at work with routine safety and, as befitted soldiers, they did not question orders from their superiors.

Aurelia was divided when the invasion began. On the one hand, there was now certainty and action could finally be taken. On the other hand, it was the inhabitants of Ravnica who suffered the most. The city itself. So should the leader be happy that the adjustment and uncertainty was falling away from her? She routinely shook off any feelings and the red-haired angel rose into the air with powerful beats of her wings. An aura of fire enveloped the guild leaders and she allowed the heavy gates of Sonneheim to open. The Boros garrison moved out to defend Ravnica.

The synchronised appearance of the soldiers running in step towards the giant roots shook the cobblestones and served as a warning to many citizens. Minotaurs, giants, humans and vashinos alike charged towards the enemy. Armed with lances, swords and an arsenal of devastating magic, the enemy's ground troops were immediately engaged in battle. But how did one fight something that did not understand fear itself and yet evoked fear in everyone else? Strange creatures that seemed to be more metal than flesh, with unreal eyes and disproportionate mouths, pounced on the legionnaires and soldiers with no regard for their own health. However, the battle-hardened Boros constantly regrouped and were quickly able to set up various defences so that the nearest residents could flee. But even some of them began to wonder whether they stood any chance at all against these creatures. After a while, fellow fighters who were thought to be dead got up again - but changed forever. Cables tore open their skin, metallic lenses literally burst from their eyes as their bodies tried to repel everything organic. Glistening black oil dripped from various pores and while some of the victims screamed in pain, a look of rapture could be seen on their disfigured faces.

While the ground troops suffered losses but were able to hold their positions, they tried to fight the root of the evil in the sky. Through the cloudy sky, another monster burst forth in the direction of the roots. The Parhelion II. The flagship and mobile centre of the Boros garrison. With incredible thrust from two nozzles on the underside of the gigantic building, the object headed slowly but inexorably towards the roots of the worldbreaker. At a suitable distance from the enemy, the many airlocks on the front opened and to the distant observer it looked as if white doves - a sign of peace - had been released. But none of the angels that swooped down on the enemy were meant to bring peace. Only salvation. With merciless precision, the countless heavenly squadrons swooped down on the enemy. The enemy needed several minutes - important minutes that greatly minimised the numbers of the attackers - to adjust to the new danger. When he tried to launch a coordinated counterattack, however, the angels scattered in all directions as if on command. The last thing the enemy saw was the grounded energy weapon of the Parhelion II. Light as pure, bright and hot as the sun itself burst upon the enemy's troops, melting metal and skin alike. All that was left behind were steaming lumps of metal and the almost undamaged "branch" of this strange tree. This naturally dampened the initial euphoria of the sky warriors and it sank almost to the bottomless pit as for every enemy defeated, it felt like two new ones came through the portal on the other side. But as long as even one Boros was standing, they would fight for Ravnica. And this is exactly what Aureila shouted at the top of her lungs as she crashed down on the enemy again: "FOR RAVNICA!“

Izzet league

Lavinia had long struggled with whether the Izzet League should be integrated into the early warning system for Ravnica. On the plus side, the Izzet had a perfect knowledge of the city and enough equipment to cause a lot of damage by exploding. On the downside, they had enough equipment to cause a lot of damage through explosions. And a chemo-voltaic radiation condenser, for example, made no difference between aggressor and inhabitant. But the new guild leader, Ral Zarek, assured the M.C.F.T.P.A.S.O.R.A.I.G that he would proceed with caution for the inhabitants of Ravnica in the event of a potential interplanetary or multiversal threat. Now the leader of the Azorius hoped that she would not regret her decision. The Storm Mage might inspire confidence - but the unpredictable goblins... She didn't want to finish the thought.

In Nivix, the headquarters of the Izzet League, there was no difference to a normal Tuesday afternoon. Explosions could be heard in the distance and, as various goblins rushed around to fulfil orders for their lab leaders, the smell of electricity (and, strangely, barbecued meat) was everywhere. On the rooftops of Nivix, the Storm Mage with the grey mottled hair watched the invasion of enemies not entirely unknown to him. 

New Phyrexia.

Jace had reported it, and as much as he wanted to help and be a part of the rush to the Machine World, he was also Ravnican. This was his home. This was where Tomik lived. This was where he grew up. The multiverse was at stake and perhaps deep down Ral Zarek felt like a coward, a traitor or an egotist. But at that very moment, he had to live with his decision and all the consequences it entailed. As well as the certainty that the invasion meant the failure of the Gatewatch. He fervently hoped that he would not encounter any of his old acquaintances in a nightmarish caricature of themselves. Zarek repeatedly asked himself whether his presence would have made a difference. Whether his abilities would have led to victory. But looking at this enemy, he wasn't sure what would have helped at all. Jace spoke of a Sylex and Kaya was very convinced in the presence of Teferie. But apparently none of that had been enough. The only thing Ral could do now was to fight for his city. He took another deep breath and focussed his entire analytical mind on the here and now. He had to have a clear head. He hadn't been a friend of M.C.F.T.P.A.S.O.R.A.I.G from the start. Too long. Too bulky. Too Azorius. That's why there was the Izzet version CM-LPG. "Activates the counter-motion loss power grid," came Ral's words over the small radios that had been developed some time ago - for just such cases.

What happened next surprised Phyrexians and Ravnicans alike. In a four-shift, three-person rotation, there were houses at strategic points in Ravnica that had been bought by the Izzet League some time ago. Extensive conversion work was carried out there, so that with the obligatory press of a red button, the 13 diesel engines in the house came to life. Four hyper-torque drivers and gyro-stabilisers at the most motion-critical points and cooling by crystallised ice magic ensured that the houses pushed themselves upwards through two hydraulic legs. After a gap opened in the floor on the now exposed underside of the house, four more legs appeared and the three joints made the house look like a gigantic, clumsy spider.

Reinforced by metal on the inside and protected by the natural masonry, the 3 people were able to operate the running bulwarks and keep the enemy at bay. Sufficient armament - partly due to unstable and risky research projects - was part of the basic equipment of the counter-movement loss power grid. It was intended to keep the enemy at bay until either the inhabitants could flee to safe havens or the Boros, Selesnijans or Azorius could dig in.

[discordsmuse]

Not my usual but: Halsin from Baldur's Gate 3 because I love him

[jessaliawrites]

Ral/Tomik Fanfic ideas

should I write these?

College AU where they are roommates currently writing!

early meet rich boy poor boy cliche Currently writing!

omenpath romantic vacation

becoming dads

I'll add more as they come to mind.

[ceasars-mad-ramblings]

Chapter 3 of my MTG fanfic is up now. Exclusively on AO3.

[yellingaboutmasseffect]

Summary:

As worries of Phyrexian incursions on various planes grows, two planeswalkers, Clelia and Ariael, volunteer to go to Dominaria to look for evidence of the Phyrexians being on the plane. Doing so changes the course of their lives forever as they both do whatever it takes to make it back to each other and those they love. -

Chapter Summary:

Ariael receives a mission from Elesh Norn that will allow her to show the glory of New Phyrexia to those she loves.

But why does she still feel an ache in her soul?

[biblioplexassistantmanager]

When Elspeth detonated the Sylex in The Blind Eternities there was no guarantee what would happen. She merely wanted to save as many lives as possible and was willing to throw herself away to make it happen. However, instead of dying, Elspeth wakes on a plane she's never seen before in a body that's not quite her own lacking her spark. Now stranded on Bloomburrow, Elspeth must make a new life for herself in a world without the constant strife that had always been her normal. Phyrexia may be defeated, but that doesn't heal every wound. But if there's any place in the multiverse that Elspeth can start fresh in, it might just be The Valley.

Or, in other words, I was possessed and wrote a 2k word introduction to an Elspeth Bloomburrow AU fic and now have made a sideblog to post it here lol whoops!

[bace-jeleren]

With him and Sumire forced apart, Kaito and the others must track her and Pompon-chan down before things get even further out of hand. Meanwhile, Tezzeret confronts Sumire to reveal the secrets of Kyodai's true nature.

[heracrosshero]

What should I do today?

Massacre Girl had been enjoying her infamy after the case of her assassination attempt on Aurelia had been made public. The fact that it was done under the influence of a Selesnya mind-control pollen was kept off the official record, and so the rumors abounded as to who had ordered a hit out on the warleader and why. Massacre Girl did nothing to quash these rumors, as they brought her lots of attention from Rakdos cultists and plenty of new clients for her services.

Some in her guild had even put her name up for taking over Judith's place as Rakdos' right hand, but Massacre Girl never gave it any serious thought. She liked her current line of work, and even among the Cult of Rakdos, leadership positions came with politics and blood-red tape that she wasn't interested in tangling with.

With all her professional success, she couldn't help but feel like her private life was lacking. Massacre Girl had never had a large circle of friends. She liked most of her guild mates, but she wasn't close with many. Etrata was nice, but she was busier than ever helping that detective Proft out in between her usual work. Yep, Massacre Girl's life was moments of high exhilaration followed by long stretches of boredom. During these stretches, Massacre Girl's mind often wandered back to that day when she had been led into Vitu-Ghazi on a leash. That had been an interesting experience to be sure. Massacre Girl didn't indulge in the lustful side of Rakdos' tenets as much as the Wrathful ones, but if she felt safe and secure, she could see herself enjoying the experience in the right place with the right person. Inside a killer tree with all of Ravnica's guildleaders was definitely not the right place, and Aurelia obviously wasn't the right person. Still, Massacre Girl could admire a woman with a body count almost as high as her own. "I wonder what she's up to these days?" Massacre Girl found herself asking aloud, leaning back on her ripped-up couch. She picked up a bloody newspaper that she'd picked up from her latest kill and skimmed the headlines. The Azorius were debating some new law about interplanar tariffs (yawn). An Izzet laboratory exploded (What a shocker). The Boros' Parhelion II was fully operational again after sustaining heavy damage in the Phyrexian invasion. It would be docked a few more days before returning to its place in the skies.

"Hmmmm." Massacre Girl fiddled with a dagger as she pondered the news. Ever since she was a young girl, the Parhelion had loomed overhead as a sign of the Boros Legion's authority and strength. And now, Massacre Girl decided she was going to break in for shits and giggles.

[vigilantsera]

One More Form: A Ravnica Fanfic

I decided to write up a spicy little story based on the fan lore in my post Transitioning on Ravnica: A Guide.

Its up now on A03.

Here's the summary:

An Azorius inspector goes out for a night of drinking to quell his frustration at yet another roadblock in the long process of official Azorius transition, only to find that the Rakdos have more to offer than “he” ever dared to dream.

The first of a few planned stories expanding on the lore in the original post. Initial plan is five stories, each centering around a pair of guilds, but we'll see.

[jasper-the-menace]

So...if I were to mention that I'm working on Magic: The Gathering oneshots based on definitions from The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows by John Koenig...

[harpagornis]

Cruelclaw's Loves

Cruelclaw laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. Right next to him Camellia snored, not making a lot of motion as she slept. She could be as still as the grave sometimes.

He nonetheless felt a turn in the bed, and judging by the sharpness of it he guessed she was awake.

"Okay, you've been staring at that ceiling for a while" she said, "Something on your mind?"

Cruelclaw sighed, not even turning to her.

"Nothing at all, sugar."

This earned him a pillowslap of frustration.

"I know you, it's never 'nothing'. Spill it out."

Indeed, it wasn't nothing. Camellia was great, but staying with her made Cruelclaw aware of his mortality, of his power potentially fading, of his wits dimming. That was a lot to unpack, and telling her to her face that it was because of her wasn't the wisest idea.

Or maybe it was, but Cruelclaw would not risk that vulnerability.

"I'm serious, it's nothing. Go back to sleep."

Before Camellia could protest, he kissed her. She melted into the kiss, in a way that could best be classified as passive-aggressive, before breaking it off. She sighed.

"Typical."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

But Camellia was back to sleep.

Vren stood on the shoreline, his bandits scattered about, when one of his bats reported a group incoming. The rat had prepared his blade with noxious spells to cut and infect, but upon seeing his face he relaxed somewhat.

"Vren!" Cruelclaw said, arms open.

"What are you doing here?" Vren said, reserved.

"Just to see how my favourite outlaw is doing. Have to scoop the competition, after all."

Cruelclaw approached. Any other fool would be decaying gruesomely by now, but Vren allowed it. The space between them closed, as the weasel stepped into the marsh waters, and soon they embraced, followed by an awkward kiss. Vren didn't do much to reciprocate, but he didn't fight it either.

"Vren, you're still as a cardboard" Cruelclaw said, stroking the rat's face.

Vren didn't answer, only leaning to his touch.

"I think you should go."

Cruelclaw stood dumbfounded.

"But I just got here."

"And whenever you come, you play me like a fiddle. So please, just leave. For your own sake."

Cruelclaw stared at Vren's blade. He hadn't raised it, but he knew better than to risk his chances.

Sighing, he departed. Vren watched him go with longing, before steeling his heart.

"Stop!" Baylen shouted.

"Wouldn't you like that" Cruelclaw said as run.

The chase was turning into quite the commotion, upsetting local businesses, but Baylen had assured they could handle the outlw alone. Cruelclaw jumped over a cabbage merchant; Baylen stopped and paid for the damages. Cruelclaw jumped unto the roof; Baylen circumvented that, throwing ballistic spells to knock him off his perch. Cruelclaw whistled for one of his birdfolk rogues to stall Baylen; Baylen's hammer knocked the finch mercifully to the side, wind sailed out of its wings.

Eventually, the two of them run into an alley… and kissed passionately.

"You can't keep doing this" Baylen said under thick gasps.

Cruelclaw's chest puffed.

"Haven't you heard? I'm the infamous Cruelclaw, I can do whatever I want."

"Then I'll stop you."

"Try me."

Baylen grabbed his wrist, only to pull him back into another kiss. They let him go, and much to their chagrin the weasel escaped.

Such was the life of the outlaw.