#wrenn and seven

[gay-little-izzet]

Bloomburrow Wrenn and Seven

Okay, my first idea was a little tree dwelling raccoon:

Then I remembered that Wrens are actually a thing. So here’s a little part 2 (minus most of 7)

[salamander2597]

Wrenn: Don’t worry, I brought a friend!

Urabrask: *waves in background*

Chandra: *squints eyes in doubt*

Wrenn: I said a friend, not a good person

[overgrown-estate]

[dimestoretajic]

THE MAGIC PLANESWALKER ULTIMATE BRACKET, ROUND THREE OF FOUR!

It's Magic's biggest villain versus Magic's biggest tree! Will the Prison Realm-bound baddie beat back the bark? Blurt out your response by voting!

Make your choice!

[isalabells]

[soraeia]

Wrenn, standing there with a sword impaling his ribs: What’s a pain tolerance?

Yukaine: . . .

Chercia: . . .

Yukaine: *looks at Chia* Start healing, I’ll go distract mother—

[emerald-observance]

Invasion of New Phyrexia, round two: Fire and Trees edition!

[thebansheeoflamordia]

Decided to draw Wrenn and Seven

[xantchaslegacy]

going on r/houseplants to accuse people of lacking love and sincerity in their hearts

[googlyeyesonmagiccards]

Let's learn to count with Wrenn: Six, Seven, Realmbreaker!

[barrelex]

Wrenn and Seven, done as a gift for a friend. Painted last spring.

[lillslillslilly]

CHAPTER SEVEN

[TRIGGER WARNING: there's some heavy content briefly mentioned in this chapter - brief mentions of suicide, alcoholism and neglectful parenting so please do note that -- it's only brief, no heavy detail :)]

----------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Seven

She analysed her reflection in the mirror of her room: her slender limbs and lanky body dressed in a pinstripe. Her trousers were straight legged with the cuffs sitting comfortably upon the ankle of her Doc Martens; her top, coordinating with her bottom half, was also pinstriped, with a halter strap around her neck and a tie up between her cleavage. Nikola had told her this outfit was sexy - not too masculine but hot; casual but dressy – it would be perfect. She twirled her finger around the length of her hair, reaching below her waist, observing the new purple streaks that complimented her signature nail polish. Between the two of them, Nikola and Elliott had decided that Vic should stick with star-themed jewellery, considering her star tattoos that wrapped her torso would be on display by the structure of her outfit, and so her fingers housed silver star rings of all different shapes, thickness and style; a necklace with a star pendant overlapped her usual ‘V’ charm necklace; and silver star studs lay upon her earlobes. Elliott had insisted that he had to be the one to do Victoria’s makeup – which worked out pretty well for her considering he had a vision, and she had a stomach full of nerves. He decided on a purple winged eyeliner in the same shade as her hair, a smoky lower lash line, a heap of mascara and some silver glitter in her inner corners. He even let her wear black lipstick – a glossy one – to bring the whole look together. It was rather remarkable, actually – he was an artist and Victoria was his canvas, and he was quite good at it too.

She observed, waves of anxiety picking apart every detail in her mind. Her mind alternated between everything she believed to be wrong with her current appearance, and the explanation that Elliott had given her about the strange interaction from the coffee house. ‘Wrenn says that Max doesn’t stop talking about you either,’ circled in her head, over and over, like a cyclist in a race, lapping the route in reoccurring motion. She was pleased, of course, but the knot in her chest tightened anyway.

She brushed her hand through her hair one more time, frowning in the mirror. Everything had to be perfect. Did she look okay? She needed to look okay. “You look incredible, hermosa,” Elliott announced from her doorway where he and Nikola stood, praising their friend, as if he could see into her mind. “She’s not going to know what to think.” “Are you sure it’s not all wrong? It looks all wrong.” “No sweetie, it’s perfect,” Nikola reassured her, the same soothing smile on her lips that she always gave that spoke of comfort, love. As she went to speak, Elliott approached her, pulling her arm and cutting off. “Nope, you look great. I’m not letting you stand here and change your mind so let’s go.”

_____

Max had spent all morning cleaning and cooking (and bossing Wrenn around to shop for last-minute necessities), which barely gave her enough time to get ready. Wrenn mocked her for her entire life for going ‘over the top’ in everything she did, though she argued that she is just a passionate person, a perfectionist, and today was one of those days. She had started planning the second Wrenn and Elliott had agreed on dinner, creating a menu inside of her mind – well, a buffet anyway.

Part of her was still mad at Wrenn for scheming behind her back and inviting everybody over to diner, but part of her was also grateful because she knew that it would not have happened otherwise. Besides, now her roommate had explained why, which settled her stomach a little. ‘Elliott said that coffee girl is obsessed with you,’ were the nine words, the only words, that stuck; the rest of Wrenn’s speech flew right over her head. But that was the important part, so it didn’t matter if she had paid attention to the entire monologue her friend gave her or not – the outcome was the same: Victoria felt it too.

But she was, as a matter of fact, running short of time getting herself ready. She already knew what she was going to cook, what she would wear, what music she would play, how she would do her hair and her makeup, and how she’d set up the kitchen, however, she forgot to manage the time she’d need to do all of that in. Victoria would be there tonight, in Max’s apartment, and it needed to be perfect. 

This dinner meant that it was time to pull out her favourite clothes.

Flared, burgundy sleeves flowed down her arms like a red waterfall flowing from the red lake of the strapless, floaty cloth that covered her torso. The top shaped into an enveloped ‘V’ around her stomach, leaving her hips slightly exposed above her long black skirt. Her skirt was an identical material to that of her top – a thin, silky, lined mesh material – which grazed her skin attentively as she adjusted it around her. Though their apartment was heated nicely, the outside air was cooler, and any sort of draft would entice each of her goose bumps to rise and her body to chill, so she fitted a pair of sheer tights under her skirt.

She ran her fingers across the pearl necklace, which extenuated her risen collar bones when the doorbell chimed, running straight to her ears, making her squirm and almost dive out of her own skin. It was time. It would be okay, she knew that; she reminded herself of that every single time her hands even thought about expressing with a tremor, or when her heart quickened even slightly, or when her chest considered pulling tighter. Since she’d come to find out that the two of them were in the same emotional situation, even the thought of Victoria sent her into a complete overload, panic and nerves making her fidgety and obsessive and overheated and curious and shy and intrigued. What would it be like when she walked in the room? What would it be like to see her face to face after discovering the knowledge that Victoria felt the same? Worse? Better? Just as overwhelming? It felt like she could die, but at least it wouldn’t be alone because Victoria felt the same.

“Maxie, they’re here!”

Making her way through the apartment to the front door, where her roommate stood now with their guests, walking past the few lit candles scattered throughout, breathing in their relaxing lavender scent, she eventually reached the group.

It didn’t take even half a second for Max’s eyes to find Vic’s, the earthy tones of both pairs of irises blending in their haze of admiration as they connected them. It was different this time. Though the usual time-freezing magic announced itself as the two sank deeper into each other’s glares, there was also a sweetness, a calmness, clouding the usual electrical nerves from pulsating Max’s body. The new, strange comfort hugged Max’s nervous system, softly, almost liking to that of relief. She could feel her body’s entire emotional process changing from one feeling to another, overwhelmed completely, until all that was left was crave and desire.

Like a kitten, a bouncy, soft embrace pulled her into a hug, his curls interlocking with hers as he did so.

“Hello beautiful! Don’t you look gorgeous,” He expressed, spinning her around. This was becoming a habit now: a hug, a lift, a spin, like some ballroom dance but childlike. She didn’t mind though because Elliott made her feel safe.

“And you look flawless as usual,” she giggled, her body being twirled as he locked his grip around her.

Usually, the comfort and safeness of Elliott’s presence was something Max never wanted to escape from – she could be held by him forever – however, her mind was solely focused on ending this interaction quickly and instead gaining the attention of the angelic girl stood a few feet away. The two had only disconnected their eyes for not even a minute, but the loss of contact burned through her. She wanted her attention.  She needed it.

Finally, after what felt like the longest encounter of her entire life, Elliott had moved on to chatting with Wrenn, freeing Maxine, and allowing her to start reconnecting with Victoria, their eyes locking into a fixation onto the other’s pair, before they were once again pulled apart by another person greeting Max.

“I was wondering when we would see you again, sweetie!” Nikola’s caramel voice, silky and sweetened, smoothed to the side of Max. “Hug?” she asked, before responding to the nod of approval issued by Max by pulling her in for a small ‘nice-to-see-you-again’ hug.

“I’m so happy to see you, Nikola.”

“You too, sweetheart” the voice replied, as she leaned closer towards Max, now lowering her voice.

“I’ll let you two talk; we can continue this in a bit.” She smiled a comforting grin before following after Elliott.

Maxine liked that about Nikola – she always knew what to do and say in every situation, like she had undergone training for every possible scenario and taken a course in ‘reading-the-room’. It was weird, Nikola being like that because Max didn’t think any living person could be that perfectly emotionally organised. There was something spectacular about her psychological genetics, magical even, to be that calm, collected and prepared for every situation. How did she always know what to do? Did she always keep herself and everyone else held together no matter the extreme of the situation? Fascinating, truly fascinating.

Finally, oh finally, it was just the two of them. Max watched Victoria’s nerves soften, gradually relaxing until their expressions were mirroring one another’s. So, it was true: Victoria felt it too.

She didn’t even hesitate – she needed Victoria’s embrace, maybe more than she consciously knew – strutting forward until the two were only a face or two apart from one another. Her mind drew around the height difference, Victoria towering over her like the Eiffel Tower towers over Paris. Even with her usual heeled shoes on, she was still a head shorter than the girl in front of her.

A thin arm dressed in its familiar leather jacket sleeve reached out, tangling itself around Maxine’s shoulder, until falling and stopping at her waist, slowly pulling her under the other girl’s chin. Another arm wrapped around her, joining its fingers with the other hand on her waist, before they rest interlocked on top of her tailbone, each movement heating Maxine’s skin like lightning striking. This was the first time they’d physically connected that wasn’t a brush of a hand, and it was incredible. The familiarity of Victoria’s scent clouded Maxine’s senses as she leaned her head against her chest, pushing further into the hug, increasing the volume of fragrance: sweetness – grapefruit maybe, probably her perfume – roasted coffee beans and tobacco – the perfect balance of sweet, bitter, and smoked. It was endearing.

Puzzle pieces: they fit together perfectly wrapped in each other’s embrace, breathing each other in, blending their scents as they held pressed into their hug. It was protective, possessive – Max was held by the hands that she wanted to be held by; the hands that wanted to hold her just as much. They were each other’s craving.

It could have been seconds, minutes, hours later, she didn’t know, when the voice spoke, the sounds vibrating against her ear which was still pressed against her chest.

“Hi.”

She was so close to her voice now that Max was able to peel each layer of it apart, analysing each tone and pitch from the one syllable spoken. She peeled back the layers of feathers, identifying a new rich tone, like silver, a metallic twang ringing against the word. Rich and soft. She spoke slowly, playing out the sound of the greeting with gentle passion, echoing in her chest as the word diffused from her tongue.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Maxine admitted in reply as her eyes caressed the necklace chains crossing over one another on the chest she was pressed against. Victoria’s chest rose against Max’s head in response, assuming a response of a smile was written on her face, though she was in no position to lift her head and look, so instead she focused on the lifting of Victoria’s chest with each breath, replicating the tempo of her heart beating in her chest, and how she wanted that heart beat injected into her veins, tattooed across her skin, recorded and replayed on a loop in the front of her mind.

Though she wanted this moment to last the whole night, she had to be realistic that this was not going to be the case when Elliott’s voice screeched from the kitchen, calling upon Victoria to see the buffet Max had produced for them all, which resulted in their bodies untangling, and following the voice to the kitchen.

The five friends sat around the island in the centre of the kitchen, dishes of homemade pasta in different sauces and salads and dips and fruits and crisps and bread rolls and cheese straws and desserts displayed on top. The group had expressed their appreciation for Max’s dedication, especially Elliott who had not stopped praising her for the spicy Cajun pasta that he had been devouring for the past twenty minutes. In return, Max had reciprocated the praise for Elliott’s fruit-tea, which she had become infatuated with almost immediately, continuously begging him to make it more often, ranking it on the same level as her coffee, which made Victoria gasp in shock.

Max’s body was turned to the right, her knees pointing towards Victoria who was positioned beside her. She had taken off her jacket now, allowing Max’s eyes to roam free around each pore of free skin around her body, analysing each inky tattoo, goosebump and stretch of smooth, pale skin. She had been admiring her shoulders and the way her muscles tense into shape every time her arm moves. She had observed her hair flowing around them, the new purple streaks driving her insane every time the light exposed the colour – they were so very hot. Victoria caught her glaring a couple of times and responded with a silent grin, intense eye contact and a very light (almost non-existent) brush against her legs with her own. It was divine, each touch desiring her more and more, so she had hoped if she continued staring, Victoria would continue reacting too. She had always thought that words of affirmation would be her love language considering her obsession with written and taped romance media, however each touch proved otherwise. She wanted to be held by Victoria forever – that’s all that mattered now.

The group conversations flowed naturally, easily. It was refreshing. Max wasn’t the most sociable person – with anyone who wasn’t Wrenn anyway – because she enjoyed her solitude, but this felt good.

“What made you want to open your bakery?” curiosity peaked in Nikola’s voice as she questioned Max.

Taking a sip of Elliott’s iced fruit tea, Max thought of her response, sloshing the liquid around her gums and tongue, her taste buds being coated in the flavour. She didn’t know what magic Ellio put in this tea, but it was just that – magic. It was the most divine, sweet and fruity brew ever, and the most incredible beverage she had ever consumed, so she was now on her third glass.

“I suppose cooking and baking is the one thing I am best at. It’s my thing,” she responded eventually, uncertainty in her voice. Victoria recognised this, frowning her eyebrows subtly (almost unnoticeable), but decided not to mention it further when Max’s eyes connected with hers, throwing her a reassuring look.

“Your pies are seriously my favourite thing ever, so thank you for opening the bakery,” Nikola laughed, spooning a forkful of cherry pie into her mouth when she finished. She had been in the bakery at least once a week since her first visit and every single time she would order a slice of pie, a different flavour each time, and catch up with Max about her day. This may have been one of Max’s favourite parts of her job – her weekly interaction with Nikola. It was a breath of fresh air after a busy day of baking and serving customers to interact with Nikola, who was somebody truly kind. Three words Max would describe Nikola as: spiritual, inspiring, and charismatic.

In turns, the group talked about their jobs, social lives, hobbies, and everything they could, the two parties getting to know each other better as they devoured the buffet around them. Wrenn and Elliott gossiped about their work, the customers and colleagues, people they’ve hooked up with recently, and even wrestled at one point, the group egging them on as they fought. They were definitely the children of the group.

Nikola showed them all her recent photography work, flicking through her sunset shoot with Elliott, and explained her upcoming plan to shoot a wedding later in the week, which encouraged a joking comment from Elliott along the lines of ‘Vic and Max’s wedding?” which made the two fluster and the rest of the party laugh.

Wrenn had concocted a playlist for tonight’s dinner: a mix of party anthems and pop ballads, setting the mood perfectly. She was no musician, but she did make the best playlists. Though the group had escorted themselves to the living room and had been dancing for a while, the moment when they all came together twirling, shimmying, and swaying to ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ was the highlight. Elliott and Wrenn, especially, were enjoying throwing themselves about to the music, laughing with each other as they enjoyed every moment of each other’s company.

“We must all go out together soon! A bar! A karaoke bar!” Wrenn exclaimed, followed by her Elliott and Nikola planning the next group-outing, whilst the other two danced under the fairy-lights, hand in hand, Victoria twirling Max clockwise.

_____

She exhaled a puff from her cigarette, standing on the balcony, staring out into the city when Max found her. Her mind was concentrating awfully hard – not on the view, but on whatever it was that had submerged her deep in thought. Maxine admired her peaceful nature for a moment, enjoying the difference in atmosphere from the excitable chaos of the rest of the group inside the apartment, before approaching the girl. She waved the two spoons and tub of salted caramel ice-cream in Victoria’s direction once she had gotten her attention, which encouraged a toothy grin from her, followed by a final puff of her cigarette and then she put it out in the ash tray.

Maxine didn’t really smoke as she didn’t like the taste much, but she did like watching the cigarettes glow in the night’s darkness so she would sometimes join Wrenn on the balcony for one, very rarely.

“What are you thinking about?” Max asked as she propped herself onto the seating area in the corner of the balcony, wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and gestured Victoria to join her.

“Just if I had missed any signs from you,” the angel voice responded, weaker than she had intended, as she fought to keep her eyes connected to Max’s, uncertainty whether she should have answered truthfully or not saturating her tone. She sat next to Max and took a spoon from her hand.

She bit into her bottom lip, impatiently waiting for a response from the flawless human being that sat beside her. A pool of nerves pushed down on her chest, her heart beginning to accelerate in response to the pressure.

Max bit into a smile after licking the ice-cream from the heap she had scooped onto her spoon. “I come to see you every single day.”

Victoria’s spoon was now also scooping into the golden dessert as she consumed Max’s words, before answering with a giggle.

“I thought you just had an uncontrollable caffeine addiction.”

“Oh yeah, well, that too,” Max laughed. She ate another scoop before speaking again.

“Did you give me any signs?”

“I invited you out with my friends that time after we had just met,” Victoria reminded her promptly, but charismatically, as she turned her head to face the girl next to her.

“Oh, good point,” Max replied. The balcony, on which the two of them sat, was dimly lit, replying on only the street around it as its source of light. Luckily for Maxine, this meant that the pinkness pouring into her face wasn’t too noticeable as the two connected eyes.

“And I know each and every one of your coffee orders, though you could argue that’s my job,” Victoria began, chuckling for a moment, then continuing with reciting Max’s orders: “Your top choice is an americano, one sugar and you especially seem to like the medium roasted coffee beans for that. Your second choice would be a latte, sometimes you will add some syrup (when you’re feeling creative), though not usually, with one sugar. In the iced coffee department, I’m assuming you are a whipped caramel iced latte girl. And I’ve seen you eye up the red velvet cake every single time you come in.”

Maxine’s mouth hung open. She paid attention to every single detail. Maybe it was just because it was her job, but Maxine ignored that because she felt seen, and she didn’t want that moment to end. Though Victoria had Max’s order correct down to a T, there was one slight issue: Max had been ordering it wrong.

“Vic,” the word shook, catching Max off guard and causing her to pause. Was this going to ruin the moment? She always told herself that being truthful is super important, so she convinced herself to continue.

“I have a confession.”

Vic’s face was scrunching together know, her eyes squinting to try and read the expression on Max’s face, though the night’s darkness didn’t give her much of a view to work with.

“I hate sugar in my coffee.”

“What?” The feathery voice asked, a small chuckle wrapping the end of the word.

“I got nervous the first few times I came to the coffee house and agreed to have sugar, accidentally, but it went on for long to be able to take it back.”

An immediate laughter – a real laugh – filled the balcony, the sound getting louder as the other girl joined in.

“You are such a muppet. A cute muppet, but still a muppet,” Victoria said, a laugh consuming each word.

Max wanted to savour this moment because although she was embarrassed, Victoria’s laugh was real. Real and beautiful.

The two sat bashfully for a few quiet minutes, only murmuring something about how eating ice-cream in the winter wasn’t the smartest idea they had as Max’s teeth chattered against the spoon.

Victoria opened her mouth to speak again, before jutting out her chin and pulling her lips back together, hesitant.

“Are you okay?” Max asked as her mind processed the blurry expression on Victoria’s face. After fluttering her eyelashes a few times and tilting her head sympathetically, Max was able to extract a response from the dark-eyed girl beside her.

“It’s just earlier, when Nik asked you why you opened your bakery, you didn’t tell the whole truth, right? I saw you hesitate. What is it?” Victoria spoke with concern in her voice, which took Max by surprise because usually, a question like this would be asked with curiosity instead. Victoria cared. She cared, and that encouraged Max’s next response.

“Okay, I suppose you’re right. I mean, it wasn’t a lie, but I guess I held back a bit,” she started, her hands fidgeting, though they were interrupted by Victoria’s, which moved to rest on them. Max was starting to understand Victoria’s silent communication more now; it was becoming a common occurrence for her to talk without words. She knew Victoria was there to listen, to care, and this gesture was reassurance as to that.  Max smiled, comfort pooling in her chest, slowing her breathing to a more natural pace, and so she continued.

“I wanted to open my own bakery, have my own place to live and have the beautiful life that I dreamed of, and I have that now, but Wrenn needed it. When we were little, we would dream about being roommates in a big city, experiencing our lives together, and we planned it all, even the bakery.”

Victoria was listening intently, blinking softly every few seconds, paying close attention to each syllable from Max’s speech. Nobody had ever listened like this before.

“And then one day when we turned thirteen, Wrenn’s twin sister, Hayley, passed away. The world was cruel, and it got the best of her. They were so different despite being twins, but they were each other’s best friends and then they were taken away from one another. It broke Wrenn, obviously, and a part of her has never been the same since. It’s like a chunk of her soul was cut out when it happened and buried with her sister. What made it worse was that her mother broke too, turning to alcohol and forgetting about Wrenn, so she basically lived with me from then on; my parents even let her decorate our guest room so she had her own bedroom. She was so alone and there was nothing I could do about it. Then she dropped out of school at fifteen and worked like three jobs and saved every penny and here we are. Watching her go through all of that was heart breaking but she lived it. But the one thing in her life that kept consistent was us, our plan. She needed this, so it happened.”

Her cheeks were hot now and salty streams had been running down them throughout her monologue, though she only noticed when a leather jacket sleeve patted down her left cheekbone.

“I’m sorry, this isn’t even my story and I’m…”

A hand brushed her face, cutting her speech off, and then a voice softly followed the action.

“No, don’t apologise. You are amazing. Wrenn is so lucky to have you.”

Max’s tears slowed and she began collecting herself when the voice spoke again.

“You have the most beautiful heart.”

You have the most beautiful heart. This jolted the ability to cry from Max, regulating her emotions back to a happy-neutral. How was Victoria so incredibly good at comforting her like this?

The two continued some ice-cream related small talk, mumbling away about the different flavours and whether they were team ‘tub or cone’, eating a scoop every so often as the other person spoke. It persisted this way for a while: the two spoke, connected eyes, went quiet, and circulated back to the start of the cycle to repeat it again.

Breaking this cycle after a while, Max drew her eyes away from Victoria and instead towards the view.

“This is my spot. I come here to read. I come here to watch all the city lights every night, and the stars too. Well, what I can see of them from here anyway,” she began, pulling the blanket tighter around her arms. “It’s weird because the city never sleeps but it’s the most peaceful thing to just observe it. That’s a bit of a juxtaposition now I think of it, so I don’t know how but the busy city at night is the most beautiful thing ever. Being able to sit here and just watch, it reminds me that I have achieved the life that I dreamed of.”

When she had turned her head back to face Victoria’s, she was caught off guard by the pure infatuated, smitten look carved into her expression - pure admiration, passion, and infatuation. Max didn’t even think she had realised the way she was looking at her.

She was looking at Max the way that Max looked at the city lights.

“What is it?” Max spoke softly after a moment, a light chuckle breaking apart each word as she spoke them.

“Nothing,” it was almost a whisper in return.

“Okay.”

The two blushed, the dark shadowing over it so it wasn’t visible to the other person, though they both knew anyway. It was quiet for a moment, until Maxine’s mouth started to move before she could even register the muscles tensing in her jaw.

“Victoria?”

“Mhm.”

Before she had even mentally processed the signals to speak again, the sound was escaping her lips.

“Can I kiss you now?”

“Yes, please.”

All of their built-up desperation, craving, desire – it all pooled together as their lips met. It was euphoric. Maxine was filled with fuel, and Victoria was the match – the fire of their passion ignited Maxine’s body, accelerating her heartbeat until it was close to ripping out of her chest. She couldn’t get enough of Victoria; she had craved her for so long. 

Their foreheads pressed against one another’s as their lips parted, inhaling a mix of each other’s scent and some air to normalise their breathing. Max rubbed her nose on Victoria’s, slowly moving her head side by side as she did so. Her eyes finally opened to see the pair (that were onyx coloured in this lighting) mesmerised by the face in front of her. That look again. Does she know she’s doing it?

Victoria snapped out of it suddenly, jumping up from her seat which startled Max.

“Oh my God, wait, come with me. Come.” She grabbed Max’s hand, intertwining their fingers and pulled her up playfully to stand beside her, through the apartment yelling to the others that they would be back soon, and out of the flat.

“Where are we going?” curiosity grew in Max’s voice, which just excited Vic more.

Eventually, they reached the roof of the apartment block and Victoria wedged the door open with a few bricks that were sat aside it to do so.

“I used to come and sit up here after work in the summer to watch the sunset. It’s perfect for stargazing and seeing the city lights. A better view than your balcony even.” Victoria was right: it was the most exquisite sight ever.

The view continued further on than she could see from her balcony, the lights smaller but glowing similar to that of the fairy lights she would wrap around her apartment. She spun her head around, eyeing the stars that were so clear from where she stood, twinkling in the moonlight. It was the perfect scenery. There was something so flawless about lights in the darkness that consumed Max’s attention at all times, and now that Victoria had handed her quite simply the best possible view of that, well, nothing was better than this.

Max was too stunned to even realise that she was audibly shivering as she took in the landscape around her. She hadn’t even recognised the leather jacket being held onto her shoulders by the dark-haired girl as she was too captured by the view.

When she had finally grounded herself, she looked up and met her eyes with Victoria’s.

“This is perfect. You are perfect. Thank you for this.”

Victoria wrapped an arm around her, kissed the top of her head and smiled, not too proudly, but proud enough that she had made the pretty girl happy. It was a silent ‘you’re welcome’ because this was Maxine’s moment – Maxine’s view – and Victoria wanted to keep it that way.

[morrithal]

NEED A CHAT THAT SAYS "JUST KILL ME ITS BEEN HALF AN HOUR AND YOU HAVE A 469/469 CREATURE WITH TRAMPLE AND" post fucking cancelled this guy crashed our goddamn game. I wanted screenshots of the battlefield motherfucker

I need more chat options in MTG Arena the premades do Not suit my needs. For example

Your deck is cool and I like it

Ow man what the hell

Yeah basically those two

[rubberduckyrye]

Oh because of the scaradotter fic or the v3 fic

Okay gonna go into more detail about these dark fics so under the cut they go!

Note though: the way I see both of these fics is that if I were to write them, they would be horror. Keep that in mind for the V3 fic especially dnasjdnsjak

The DottoScara fic is on my to-do list, but I have to be in a VERY specific mood for that dsnfkjnsfjkds. To clarify: the fic is currently called "Diablo", and it explores Scaramouche's live from the very beginning of his life, through his "Three betrayals," through the meat of the fic (Dottore torturing him via experimentation) and up until his final confrontation with the Traveler where he fights in the big robot. The main reason it's DottoScara is because the meat of the fic will explore the potential tortures Scaramouche faced under Dottore. AKA It's torture porn. Also something something you could argue that any and all vivisections Scaramouche endures can be allegories to being sexually abused something something invading the body in a way that is a very unique experience something something not intended but I've definitely written Wrenn in RPs where he feels violated in his healing verses when he thinks of the vivisections so there's that?

Anyway. The V3 Darkfic. Um. Ho boy. This one might get people screaming at me.

(I say, literally describing that Scaramouche endures Vivisections... But the themes of the V3 fic are.... things people really love to harass people about. Ah. Oh well, Antis, eat your hearts out.)

The V3 fic.... Listen, it didn't start off as a darkfic but boy did it go there real fast. I don't even know if I want to write this one. But I'll tell you the concept for it--the idea is when there are 14 students left, the Motive Monokuma and the Monokubs give them is a collar around their necks and the Seven Deadly Sins. The collars inject a chemical that is supposed to make their respective hosts more and more likely to enact their respective sins, and there are two of each sin. Three doses from the collar will make the student go into a frenzy if they've been resisting their sin for the previous 2 doses.

Sounds pretty interesting--until you think of the consequences of that and the sin of Lust specifically. It accidentally went from "interesting them and motive" to "Oh this is literally 'Fuck or Die' combined with 'Sex Pollen'." fsdnjfjkfnsdk

Definitely not intentional on my part. Anyway guess what two "I'd rather die than be vulnerable with someone, especially if forced into intimacy" boys got the Lust Collars. If you guessed Oumota you'd be right.

Since I think the concept of being forced into lust is a very horrifying situation, I was drawn to the idea of writing it from Kaito's perspective and writing down the horrors from his perspective. The fact that him and Kokichi keep blacking out on the third dose does not Help his imagination. I don't think I'd write any of the sex scenes (been there, done that with "A Little Out of Order", not sure if I really wanna do smut again) but I think the blackouts/reading Kaito slip from coherent consciousness into darkness make it all the more horrifying. Just, they're both drugged and black out, who knows what could have happened to either of them when they black out. They both hate this.

I think at some point Kokichi concocts the idea of killing himself just to make the motive end for everyone, but also because he gets to be at his breaking point because. Well. You know. Pretty sure Kaito has to stop him.

I do know Miu gets a wrath collar and ends up breaking a lot of shit in her lab on dose 3. That or she beats up Kokichi. Probably the latter because you know. That or sloth if only because I can't tell which sin would make her feel her worst. It's about the despair, everyone!

This idea of far less plotted out though because I don't really know what to do with it, let alone do I even really want to do anything with it. Like I don't know how the motive ends, if there's a murder, if the ship can even really become a true ship after that kind of trauma, ectect. So for now it's staying as a plot bunny in my head that I occasionally remember and ponder on.

Anyway. Ehe. if I start getting hate anons I'm closing my ask box immediately. Juuust saying.

[dimestoretajic]

THE MAGIC PLANESWALKER ULTIMATE BRACKET!

Welcome to week three, gang!

Phew! Sorry for the delays. BRAIN FUN. This is gonna get done, and not due to gritted teeth, but because this is FUN and I love seeing the discourse. You guys are great!

Now, as to last week, we had some folks get the taste slapped out of their mouth and some... well, there really was only one that was close. :P But we're having some great matchups and some of this week's are suuuuuuuuper spicy!

Here are the brackets!

Oko, Thief of Crowns vs. Tamiyo, Compleated Sage

Dihada, Binder of Wills vs. Tezzeret, the Seeker

Elspeth, Sun's Champion vs. Wrenn and Six

Sarkhan Unbroken vs. Kaito Shizuki

Nicol Bolas, God-Pharaoh vs. Ugin, the Ineffable

Nicol Bolas, Planeswalker vs. Wrenn and Seven

Sorin, Vengeful Bloodlord vs. Narset of the Ancient

Tamiyo, Field Researcher vs. Ral Zarek

Be sure to reblog these bad boys! And if you see any errors or goofs that I can change, lemme know and I'll fix it right away!

Have a great week!

[mejaydee]

✨How I’d fix Magic the Gathering: March of the Machines Main Storyline✨

So to start, I’d like to be clear that I LOVED this story. I was absolutely giddy reading it throughout, but because of that it’s been on my mind, and so I want to share my only two big problems with it and how I’d address them (SPOILERS AHEAD BTW in case that wasn’t obvious)

1: The use of Chandra

Chandra didn’t do enough. And I’m not talking about after they got to Realmbreaker, I’m talking about everything before it.

What she did do, I loved. Her connecting to Wrenn was beautiful, and Wrenn as sort of a bridge between Nissa and Chandra as both tree and flame was great. Fantastic interactions all around.

But the only thing, and I mean the ONLY thing she thought about was Nissa. And it’s obvious why, but it led to her not being capable of anything other than thinking about Nissa. She’s either thinking about Nissa or thinking about not wanting to think about Nissa. When Koth or Urabrask mentions “the elf”, she gets agitated, but why? She was already on her mind, and it takes up a significant amount of time that could be filled with even minor battles.

<b>Solution:</b> her attempts at pushing Nissa out of her mind work (mostly). She’ll still feel constantly anxious, uncomfortable, unsettled, but she’ll lie to herself. Justify it by saying “of course I’m anxious, I’m fighting the Phyrexians.” So when the Resistance mentions the elf, it <i>really</i> discomforts her.

And in that big moment, where Nissa shows up directly in front of her as depicted in “Traumatic Revelation”, it’ll be both much more traumatic and much more of a revelation. The truth can’t be ignored anymore, can’t be pushed aside. It’s standing right in front of her now, and it’s even more justification that she wasn’t prepared for it, and why she completely froze. She <i>knew</i> she wouldn’t have to see Nissa like this. Because she fooled herself.

Thematically, as “Hope’s Beacon”, giving her more time up front to be a powerhouse clearing out small fry would let us get a feeling of that hope. The Mirrans see a burning sun clearing the way with ease, and think that with her, maybe they really can do this.

And when it’s revealed that Norn was prepared, that it was all a trap, that Nissa was there, and their shining beacon dims and quivers, they���ll all feel the dread that they had hidden until that moment.

As it is, Chandra is a lady that showed up proud and feisty, barely does anything, and then gets completely handled by Nissa.

2: The Ending

I think it’s pretty obviously annoying that out of the seven compleated planeswalkers, only one of them had a really confirmed and “satisfying” death, and it was in a side story, and it was Lukka, and let’s be honest, who gives a shit about Lukka.

We thought they may have learned their lesson after the backlash of War of the Spark, where again, after all the hype, not much changed, and nobody was satisfied. Emotional stakes are important to engaging storytelling, and repeatedly subverting them will do nothing but teach us all not to care any more. Especially in this case, since it <i>seemed</i> pretty obvious that phyresis and compleation were irreversible, only for that to have been retroactively taken away. All that time you spent thinking, “who will it be next? Will my favorite characters be taken?” is now null. It wouldn’t have mattered if they were or had been. It would have been undone in a couple paragraphs at the end anyway.

<b>Solution:</b> let ‘em die (or at least most of them). Some of them can be easily fixed without even retconning.

Lukka: again, he’s the one that did really bite it (or got bitten, technically). Good.

Tamiyo: her real body was killed, but she had left behind a “story” of herself, basically a hologram clone. Not bad to be honest, if it is <i>temporary</i>. If it allows Nashi to get his closure, then it’s great. Let it be a small program, and let it fade away to memory as all stories do. The current ending of her and Nashi coming home implies that she’s just gonna still be there? But she has all her memories and such? So basically it’s the equivalent of just losing her spark. Let her die.

But also side note, Nashi should have ignited his spark in grief, but that’s my own wishes coming through. Just doesn’t make sense to me that in a multiversal flesh abomination invasion only ONE character ignited their spark.

Nahiri: SEEMS like she died, but NO BODY NO PROOF and I don’t trust Wizards to stick to it if they feel like dredging up old characters in a couple years. Unless the aftermath shows her limp body crushed under the Skyclave, I’m not satisfied. Let her die.

Jace and Vraska: I loved the story they had within Vraska’s little mind bubble, even if a lot of it when they were together was just a makeout sesh. That’s straight up good actually, and I like it a lot. That should have been it. Let their real bodies be fought and defeated, and killed. Let their minds live in what feels like an eternity together, and let their true selves be happy as their false forms are destroyed. Let them live their dreams together, and let them die together.

Ajani: let him die. The realest stakes we had in this story was Ajani. His being a sleeper agent was the hit that hurt the most, especially to himself. His “death” was tragic, and was what more than anything fueled Elspeth in this final journey. He was the connection between all of them, and his death would truly mean something. If it wasn’t miraculously reversed. Let him die.

Finally, Nissa: let her live? I’m actually okay with them curing ONE (1) of them. It lets them explore what it would be like for someone to live after what had happened to them, and if any, it should be Nissa. Obviously, as the pure elf with nature powers, being an unnatural being that still has synthetic parts would be a great contrast for her to live with. Also, WotC finally grew the balls to have queer characters in the story explicitly, and having the infamous “I like big manly men” fiasco only be followed by the death of her real love interest before it was canonized would be infuriating.

It didn’t really make sense to me why Karn and Melissa were able to revive both of them anyway. A spark for a spark, a life for a life. How’d they stretch two out of that deal?

Thanks for TEDing to my come talk.