#and its ALL FOR MASQUERADA

[drowningparty]

Might as well just rot around the nursery and count sheep

#kayne #kayne malevolent #malevolent #faroe #art #mine #hope this is giving that one chapter in masquerada where you have to save the babies in the orphange from the lady setting them on fire #and for some reason its the hardest chapter in the entire game. the hell was that about. we all played masquerada right #anyway. I love kayne <3

[kaytewrites]

the quick release || masquerada: songs and shadows || chapter 1

(a/n: i'd like to give a big ol shoutout to the masquerada discord for being absolute lads and a constant source of inspiration. y'all are awesome, bless y'all. the chapter number is a very rough prediction - i have about 8,000 words written, but i want to break it into manageable chunks and edit it. this is unbeta'd, by the way, so any and all mistakes are my own. feel free to leave comments/criticism!

work title from Red Sparrow by Mree.

please enjoy ♥)

also on AO3!

“So this is what Salting is like,” Tristan says, as if his vision isn’t tripled and he can feel his legs. The bridge seems impossibly long, so much longer than what he thought, and he dimly feels himself turn, puppeted by the need to keep moving, because if he stops he has a feeling that he’s never going to move again.

He feels something sigh in the back of his mind, and while he pushes himself ever further, feels the black creep in at the edge of his vision and his arm twitch at just the wrong moment, he spares a thought for what feels like something   else in his mind. He doesn’t get long, though, because there’s a sword coming down on his arm, and then there is no arm.

Pain like ice lances through his body, and he falls to the ground in a scream, convulsing. It’s the most terrified he’s ever been, and he wishes, for a brief moment, that someone will kill him quickly.

He has never been so lucky.

The despots who are left kick him to the edge of the broken bridge and then further, and he plummets to the dark water below. Just before he breaks the surface, he dreams he can hear someone screaming “No!”, and then all that’s left is ice.

He does not know how long passes. For a long time, all he knows is cold and sand and multiplicity - memories he does not know, cannot name, run behind his eyelids. He screams sometimes, when he wakes, but his throat grows raw and bloody and he cannot scream anymore.

Eventually, he tires and sleeps once more.

The world becomes warmth and light, at some point, but there are too many jagged edges in his mind, too many people speaking too many things he does and does not understand, so he does his best to try and ignore it all.

Tristan opens his eyes to a wooden roof. He blinks for a moment, two. Thinks: I should be dead; and then: Thank the Ages I’m not.

“Easy now,” comes a voice from his left, and he instinctively turns to face it, regretting the decision as it jostles the stump of his arm-

Oh. That. He winces sharply, and the voice chuckles.

Tristan recognizes the blue of the Sorelle before anything else - Kalden, his name was. He fights to get his tongue to cooperate, but when he tries to speak, there’s a jumble of vowels and not much else.

“Do you remember Salting?” Tristan nods, not trusting his voice. He remembers the bridge, and the burning cold, and -

He’s struck by violent tremors, then, and Kalden rests a hand on his arm to steady him. “Easy now, Valencio.”

It takes him a long moment to order his thoughts, longer still to try and steady his tongue enough to speak them. “H-h-how l-l-”

“How long have you been asleep?” Kalden finishes, and Tristan nods. When Kalden sighs instead of responding, Tristan’s heart clenched in his chest. Surely it can't have been that long…?

“A month, give or take. We found you a few weeks after the battle, under the river, surrounded in ice. Seems you saved yourself from death, even Salted.” Kalden sighs, and Tristan gets the distinct feeling that it's not the end of the story.

“You've woken several times, but this is the first you've been lucid enough to try and speak.” Kalden pats his complete arm. “We've had to call Vasco in every other time. He seemed to be the only one who could calm you down.”

The name throws him for a moment, until he remembers the dark-haired flute of a man who'd Salted himself for Cicero after -

Well.

After that .

Still, it makes him wonder - why would this Vasco, this man who'd saved Cicero when all Tristan had done was follow orders , spend his time helping him?

Kalden lets him think in silence. The man's presence serves to soothe, even with as little Tristan knows of him. At least he knows he's trustworthy.

“C-c-c-”

“Cicero?” Kalden supplies again, and Tristan nods once more. He has a feeling this will quickly get infuriating. There's already a headache buzzing behind his eyes, a swarm of thought like hornets in his brain.

“He shouldn't be busy today. Surprised he hasn't checked in on you more, to be honest.”

Tristan isn't surprised at all, but that doesn't mean it doesn't sting. At least Cicero is alive. He nods to Kalden, who stands and ambles to the door, poking his head out for a moment.

Tristan takes a moment to take stock of himself: his toes are responsive, confirmed by the wiggle at the end of the sheets. He clenches his left fist once, twice. He can feel his right fist move with it, even when he looks down and sees nothing past the elbow. Ice swims behind his eyes, and he does his best to breathe through it.

He must be lost in his reverie longer than he thinks, because he’s being jolted out of it what feels like seconds later by a soft touch and a gentle, “Tristan?”

“Good morning, hero, ” Tristan says, and at the confusion on Cicero’s face, he realizes he must not have spoken Ombrian.

“I think you said hello, right?” Tristan nods. “Hello to you, too, then. Still having trouble with the languages?” Another nod. “Well. You’re twice as smart as Vasco, so you shouldn’t have a problem-”

“I heard that!” comes a petulant yell from the doorway, and Vasco is there, seemingly from thin air. There’s a mischievous smile on his face, almost matched by the grin on Cicero’s. Airbrands, he thinks, exasperated.

“I think he’s just jealous that he doesn’t suddenly know an ancient language. ” Vasco’s voice flows smooth with the Dimenticate, and Tristan smiles despite himself. He finds his eyes drawn to him, all the languid grace of someone of the purple guild, and though Tristan has his own squabbles with that guild, it’s easy to put them aside. Especially since they stayed.

“Perhaps, ” Tristan responds, and the smile on Vasco’s face is blinding.

“- As I was saying,” Cicero continues, “you shouldn’t have trouble speaking again. You’re one of the strongest people I know, Tristan.” There’s something lurking under the surface of those words, a conversation that’s waiting to be had, and Tristan doesn’t know if he’ll ever be ready for it.

Still.

Cicero’s hand gives his remaining arm a firm grip at the elbow, and he smiles down at Tristan. He’s already exhausted, just by this minimal interaction, but he doesn’t want to rest. He wants to move around, get back up, back on his feet, be a part of what’s happening, but he knows if he tries there’s no doubt they’ll all just shove him back in a bed again.

“Good to see you back, old friend.”

“G-g-g-ood t-to s-s-s-”

He stops, impatiently patient, and Cicero waits like he’s got all the time in the world for Tristan to find his words. “Seeyoutoo,” he breathes out in a rush, and feels both humiliated and proud that he can speak. Cicero’s answering grin as he brushes past Vasco to leave only intensifies it -

Vasco. The man had slipped his mind for a moment, but now that he’s the only other living body in the room, it’s hard not to notice him. He walks over from the door, shutting it behind him, his walk making Tristan think of the cats that stalked the alleys of the Citte, hunting whatever poor rodent was unlucky enough to get in their way. He drops into the chair next to the bed in a single fluid motion, lounging like he’s been there for hours.

“So. Tristan Delzole.” There’s venom in his name, and he is remorseful enough to wince. “Back from the dead, in a fashion almost as miraculous as our d-dear Cicero’s.”

He feels like a viper staring down a mongoose. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to say, only feeling shock as he registers Vasco’s words. He lets the shock show on his face, hoping Vasco will answer his unspoken question.

“Not going to speak for you, Valencio. You’ll have to sp-speak for yourself.”

Damn. There goes that idea, then. “W-w-wha-t-t hap-p-p-pened t-t-t-t-”

Vasco waits for him to finish with an enigmatic smile, and it makes Tristan want to swat at the flower vase that’s sitting on the bedside table. Lucky that’s his missing arm’s side, then.

“T-t-t-o Cic-c-c-c-ero?” he finishes, and the little clap Vasco gives makes him scowl.

“Very good! And, as a reward, here’s your answer: he died.”

Tristan stops. Looks at Vasco. Waits for the sign that it’s all some terrible joke he’s being played by.

Vasco laughs sarcastically. “I wouldn’t joke about that, Delzole. I think the universe has given me the best possible punchline it could, T-t-t-t-t-ristan.” He plays up the stutter on his name, and now Tristan sees why Vasco is so hostile: Tristan is the reason he Salted in the first place. And now, Tristan is here, in the same place he was weeks ago, having Salted for the very same man. It’s a type of cruel irony, and one that Vasco is enjoying immensely, by the looks of it.

“G-g-g-g-lad yo-o-ou’re hav-v-v-v-ing-g-g f-fun.” His voice is more tired than he expects. He is more tired than he expects. He’s far, far too tired to parse exactly what all this means: that Cicero died but clearly didn’t stay dead, by the looks of it. That he, for all intents and purposes, should have followed the man into the dark.

“Only a little,” Vasco admits, and Tristan doesn’t believe it for a second. Instead, he turns on his side, the side that still possesses an arm, and pulls the sheets up around himself as if to sleep.

“Don’t be in-salt-ed, Valencio.” He groans at the pun, and then remembers he’s supposed to be sleeping. “I’ll have you speaking p-properly in no time. I did have a fine tutor, myself.” His tone gets distant, misty, but Tristan doesn’t bother turning to see if his expression matches. He hears Vasco stand, pushing the chair back from the bed, and walk to the door. There’s a pause then, as if he waits at the door, but Tristan shuffles more resolutely under the covers. He hears it click, swing, and click again, and Tristan is alone once more.

Almost as soon as he decides that sleeping might actually be a good option, he’s already dozing.

#masquerada: songs and shadows #masquerada #tristan delzole #vasco tessitore #masquerada songs and shadows #MY BOYS ;^; #ive been writing so much the past few days omg y'all #and its ALL FOR MASQUERADA #i blame the discord #and also myself #for being who i am in general #ill try n get the next one up tomorrow #or the day after #depends on how i feel #the quick release #the quick release chapter one

[lairofsentinel]

Videogames I’ve played [With recommendations]

This is a list for me to keep some track of the videogames that I've played over the “recent” years. It only includes pc games. I used to play a LOT with emulators of all consoles.

Not all of them have a tag in my blog, but many do. I think it's good to have a list, separated by “general” genre. Many of these games have a post in this [tag] from @rpgchoices, in which I participate a bit with some posts.

[Opinion: mine]: Post related to my personal opinion on the game

[Opinion: rpgchoices]: Post related to @rpgchoices 's opinion

RPG

These are considered RPG or have some choices along their game that impacts the story

Aarklash: Legacy [diablo-like] [Don't play it. Terrible.]

Ashen [Opinion: mine]

Baldur's Gate [1, 2, 3]

Bard's Tale 4 [Recommended] [Opinion: mine]

Bound by Flame [Opinion: mine]

Child of Light [Opinion: mine]

Dark Souls [2, 3]

Demon Stone [very old game for PS2 set in Forgotten Realms]

Disciples: Liberation [Opinion: mine]

Disco Elysium [Opinion: rpgchoices]

Divinity 2 [No, it's not Divinity Original Sin 2] [Opinion: rpgchoices]

Divinity: Original Sin 1

Divinity: Original Sin 2 [Recommended]

Dragon Age Series [Origins, Awakening, 2, Inquisition] [Highly recommended]

Dungeon Siege 3

Elder Scrolls [4: Oblivion, 5:Skyrim]

Elex 1, 2 [Opinion: mine on Elex 2]

Encased [Opinion: mine]

Fable 3

Fallout [3, 4, New Vegas]

Final Fantasy XV

Gamedec [Opinion: mine and mine]

Greedfall [Big no, totally non-recommended, go for Technomancer instead] [My (negative) opinion] [Opinion: rpgchoices]

Grim Dawn [RPG diablo-like, boring]

Iron Danger: Shard of Time  [Opinion: mine]

Jade Empire [Opinion: rpgchoices]

Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning

Mars: War Logs

Masquerada: Songs and Shadows [Opinion: rpgchoices]

Mass Effect Series [1, 2, 3, Andromeda] [recommended]

Neverwinter [1, 2]

Nier Automata 2b

Outer Space

Pathfinder [Kingmaker, Wrath] [Opinion:rpgchoices on Kingmaker, mine on Wrath. Opinion on Wrath: rpgchoices ]

Pillars of Eternity [1, 2, dlcs]

Pyre [Recommended]

Saint Row 4

Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice

Seven: The days long gone [Opinion: mine]

Shadowrun [Hong Kong, Dragonfall]  [Opinion: rpgchoices on Hong Kong]

Shadows: Awakening [RPG diablo-like]

Solasta: Crown of the Magister [opinion: rpgchoices]

Spellforce 1

The Council [Recommended]

The Dwarves [Opinion: mine]

The Technomancer [Opinion: rpgchoices] [Recommended for it's original concepts]

The Waylanders [Opinion: mine so far in its buggy state]

The Witcher [1, 2, 3] [Opinioin: mine on 3]

Thronebreaker: The witcher tales [Hybrid of rpg and card battle game] [Opinion: mine]

Tides of Numenera [Opinion: rpgchoices ]

Torchlight [1, 2]

Tower of Time

Vampire, The Masquerade: [Bloodlines, Coteries of New York, Shadows of New York] [Opinion: mine Bloodlines]

Vampire: The Masquerade - Swansong [Opinion: mine and mine]

Vampyr

Wildermyth

Wolcen: Lords of Mayhem [RPG diablo-like]

Narrative / Story-rich

The line between this genre and RPG is very thin. Narrative usually have little room for anything else but interactions with deep impact. Usually, it is a linear story with a “fake” sense of options. Many of these games are so hybrid that probably would fall under this classification or RPG.

12 minutes [Opinion: mine] [Highly recommended]

As Dusk Falls [Opinion: mine]

Beyond two souls [I didn't like it at all] [Opinion: mine]

Coffee Talk [Opinion: mine at rpgchoices]

Detroit: Become Human [Opinion: mine and mine] [Highly recommended]

Draugen

Florence

Gone Home [Opinion: rpgchoices]

Haven [Opinion: mine and mine]

Heaven's Vault [Opinion: rpgchoices]  [Recommended]

Heavy Rain

Lake  [Opinion: mine]

Last Stop  [Opinion: mine] [Recommended]

Life is Strange [1, 2, True Colours] [Opinion: mine 1] [LiS2 Highly recommended]

Marie's Room

Missed Messages

Mosaic [Beautiful, critic of work-culture] [Opinion: mine]

Neo-Cab

Night in the Woods

Outer Wilds  

Oxenfree [1, 2 Lost Signals]

Papers Please [Opinion: mine]

Pentiment [Opinion: mine] [Highly Recommended]

Quantum Break

Red String Club [Opinion: rpgchoices]

Return of the Obra Dinn [Opinion: mine] [Highly Recommended]

Road 96 [Opinion: mine and mine ] [Recommended]

Road 96, Mile 0 [prequel of the previous game] [Recommended]

Sorcery! [Opinion: rpgchoices]

Stanley Parable

State of Mind [Opinion]

Stray Gods [Recommended]

Tacoma [Opinion: mine]

Tell me Why [Opinion: mine] [Highly recommended]

TellTales Games: Back to the Future [Opinion: mine]

TellTales Games: Batman [The Telltale Series, The Enemy Within]

TellTales Games: Game of Throne [Opinion: mine]

TellTales Games: Guardians of the Galaxy

TellTales Games: Minecraft [1,2]

TellTales Games: Tales from the Borderlands

TellTales Games: The Wolf Among Us

TellTales Games: Walking Dead Series [Michonne, 1, 2, 3, 4] [Opinion: mine] [Recommended]

The Artful Escape [quite psychedelic game] [Opinion: mine]

The Ballad Singer [Opinion: mine]

The Descendant [Opinion: mine]

The Forgotten City [Opinion: mine and mine] [Highly recommended]

The Vanishing of Ethan Carter [Opinion: mine]

Undertales [Never finished: Fuck the spider boss' mini game]

What Remains of Edith Finch  [Opinion: mine] [Highly recommended]

Year Walk

Point&Click

Beyond a Steel Sky

Broken Age

Dreamfall Series [The Longest Journey, Dreamfall: The Longest Journey, Dreamfall Chapters] [Recommended]

Goetia [1, 2]

Machinarium

Maquette [Opinion: mine] [Recommended]

Moebius: Empire Rising [Opinion: mine]

Monkey Island Series

Painscreek Killings

Paradise Killer

Still Life [1, 2]

Tangled Tower

The Black Mirror [1, 2, 3] [Opinion: mine]

The Book of Unwritten Tales [1,2] [Opinion: mine] [Recommended]

The House of Da Vinci [1, 2, 3, Opinion: mine]  [Highly recommended]

There is no Game: Wrong dimension [Opinion: mine] [Highly recommended]

The Uncertain [1,2] [Opinion about 1: mine & 2: mine]

Unavowed [Opinion: rpgchoices]

Unforeseen Incidents [Opinion: mine]

Adventure / Action

Assassin's Creed [1, 2, Brotherhood, 3, Odyssey]

Baldur’s Gate - Dark Alliance (old PS2 game for pc)

Braid [Opinion: mine]

Brothers (local co-op) [Opinion: mine]

Cocoon

Conway: Disappearance at Dahlia View [Opinion: mine]

Crow [for tablets]

Deus Ex [Human Revolution, Mankind Divided]

Echo [the first part, then I got black screen of death and never could continue it]

Gris [Recommended] [Opinion: mine]

Hades [I never finished it after 2nd repetition]

Hellblade: Sesua's Sacrifice [Never finished it]

Inside

Journey

Limbo

Lord of the Fallen

Metal Gear 5: Phantom Pain

Never Alone [Opinion: mine] [Recommended]

Nihilumbra [Opinion: mine]

Of Orcs and Men [Opinion: mine]

Operencia: The stolen Sun [Opinion: mine]

Papo & Yo [Opinion: mine] [Recommended]

Pendula Swing [Opinion: rpgchoices]

Remember Me

Styx: Master of Shadows [Opinion: mine]

The Fall [1, 2 Unbounded] [Opinion: mine on 1]

Transistor [Opinion: mine]

Tunic

Unravel

Warcraft [2, 3]

Weird West [Opinion: mine]

Puzzle 

They are mostly story-driven games but with a heavy aspect of puzzles. This list should be larger, but I only keep those games that, despite being puzzle, had some strong narrative component, or were just very interesting like Antichamber.

A Little to the Left

A Story About My Uncle.

Antichamber

Chromagun

Door: Paradox [Opinion: mine at rpgchoices]

Escape Simulator

Gorogoa [Opinion: mine] [Recommended]

Little Inferno [Opinion: mine]

Myst Series

Portal [1, 2]

Storyteller

Superliminal  [Opinion: mine]

The Fall [1, 2 -Unbound]

The Room [1,2,3,4] [Highly recommended]

The Swapper [Opinion: mine]

The Talos Principle [1,2]  [Opinion on 1: mine]  [Highly recommended]

Title_Pending [Opinion: mine]

Quantum Conundrum

Others

Genres that I rarely play but somehow I did exceptions for these games.

Ace Attorney  [all saga for PC] [genre: visual novel] [Opinion: mine]

Ascension: Deck-building Game [Highly recommended]

Coffee Talk [1,2] [Visual Novel]

Dear Esther [genre: walking simulator]

Dream Daddy [genre: sim date] [Opinion: rpgchoices]

Drizzlepath [genre: walk simulator]

Eliza [genre: visual novel] [Opinion: mine]

Hand of Fate [1,2] [genre: Card game]  [Opinion: mine on 1 and 2 ]

Inscryption [genre: deck-building Card game]  [Opinion: mine] [Recommended]

Koi-Koi Japan Ukiyo-e [Hanafuda Card game]

Lone Wolf [Genre: hybrid between visual novel and rpg with combat] [Opinion: mine]

Obduction [genre: hybrid walking simulator with puzzles]

Solstice [genre: visual novel] [Opinion: rpgchoices]

Stardew Valley

Tainted Grail [genre: deck-building battle card game]

The dead tree of Rachiuna [genre: walk simulator]

MMO

Dota2 [Abandoned]

Dungeons & Dragons Online [low level Paladin, I've got sick of the micro-transaction hell that it was around 2014. Never returned to it.]

Guild Wars 2 [Engineer, Guardian, Druid, Elementalist, Mesmer. Abandoned]

Neverwinter [I’ve made my wizard Chardry and his cleric twin brother  [info]]

Path of Exile [RPG diablo-like, Inquisitor, just reached lvl 50 or so, I only did the story. Abandoned]

Star Wars: the Old Republic [Imperial agent and Jedi main stories. Abandoned]

Warframe [My fave is Oberon]

World of Warcraft [BC, WotLK, Cata] [For the Horde!] [Dear classes: Healer Priest, Holy Paladin, Tankadin]

Some of these games have tags in my blog: Main ones, secondary ones

Last Update: March 2024

#videogames main list #this post will be linked in the sidebar of my blog #and updated every here and there

[shinsart]

I’ve been feeling super rusty with my art, and honestly no surprise, given that I rarely draw at all these days. I wanted to draw and not have much of a plan or goal in mind besides, well, drawing. Wanted to try something new, scrub off some rust, do my best to not fall into my perfectionist streak and instead just... explore?

This took way longer than I would have wanted, but I’m pretty happy with how it looks and how loose I felt for the most part while creating it. And hey, its fanart no less! If you haven’t, please consider playing Masquerada: Songs and Shadows. The game is really good and it deserves more attention.

#Fanart #Timelapse #Masquerada #Masquerada: Songs and Shadows #Cicero Gavar

[callmearcturus]

Oh me if you’re still doing game recs! I value story over all; games that have hit that sweet spot for me are TFTBL (obv), Uncharted 4, FFXII, Masquerada. Open worlds intimidate me although I did enjoy what I played of BOTW. I will set the difficulty to story mode if that’s an option. I frequently fail out of games after a few sessions because I forgot to go back and play, so immediate hooks are a plus. Bonus if the games are console (switch or ps4).

hey 36 did you know with pc game pass you can play the entire mass effect trilogy

you probably don't have a gaming pc so that's not really helpful but my god. if i could con you into playing mass effect, you are like the number one person who i'd want to see fall down that rabbit hole. gdi its a fucking tragedy that ME1 was never ported to playstation, only 2 and 3. i just think you would fall in love with it. it also has that very very generous easy mode.

sigh.

oh, look into Crosscode. I've only played the first 10 hoursish but the story IMMEDIATELY fucking hooked me. It sets up an interesting mystery and world, the characters are a lot of fun, and it has a lot of accessibility sliders you can mess with to tweak the difficulty.

#arc recs games

[fiddle-styx]

abo jikook dynamics

i was an omega!jimin fan, then all for that sub!kookie and now i’m somewhere in between so enjoy a mix here!

power struggle by astrochild | 3k, 1chp it wasn’t a secret to anybody that jungkook hated the pack’s annual fight for some change in hierarchy. much less park jimin.

Reckless by Little_Dimples | 17k, 5chp Mistakes were bound to happen when you have an unmated omega and a young alpha in one group. It just so happens that Jimin and Jungkook accidentally mate one another which they really don't want too but the bond is set for eternity and the first weeks are the worst. They can't step out of their mating range and if they don't touch one another one of them is bound to get hurt. They need to find a solution to this and they need one now.

What You Need by jonghyunslisterine | 8k, 1chp Jimin's heat hits him early, and it's because Jungkook gets into a fight.

Promises by usaginoona | 8k, 1chp Jungkook is so utterly, unbelievably, incomparably in love. They’ve talked about this for months. Talked about life plans, and their future together. They bought a new house with an extra bedroom and a yard, moved out of their old apartment. Jungkook set up a new savings account, and Jimin picked up some extra hours to help prepare.

Mine, and his by Rose_gold715 | 60k, 5 works

Fxxk It (Fxxk Me) by Chimchimery | 3k, 1chp Most people couldn’t believe that Park Jimin wasn’t an Omega, and Jungkook couldn’t help but agree sometimes, just because of how beautiful and sweet and non-Alpha he seemed.

But when his mate went into rut, Jungkook saw the raw and pure Alpha in his sweet little Jimin show through.

“A-ah, oh fu-fuck Jimin…” Jungkook groaned out, gripping the silken sheets underneath him with enough force to tear them in half, body bent over the bed as he shook.

The Jeon Pack by NaHe | 70k, 12chp Jungkook's pack had survived centuries in the cold unforgiving forest. They followed strict traditions and laws to ensure their survival against nature and rival packs. Soon the responsibility of leading the pack would fall on his shoulders but before assuming the position of head alpha, he needed to choose an omega mate. The problem was that Jungkook was in love with an omega that hated his guts.

sunlight through the curtains by newbensolo | 5k, 1chp jungkook misses jimin until he comes home, then he shows him how much he missed him.

But I Hate Seeing Your Pretty Body Go To Waste by wormsteinVEVO | 4k, 1chp The thin lace of his panties felt harsh against the material of Jungkook’s jeans, but he didn’t care as long as long as his little cock was getting the relief it wanted. “Please,” he whimpered again.

Jungkook tsked and gripped Jimin’s hips, effectively immobilizing the smaller. “No, prince. Use your words or you’re not getting anything,” Jungkook said, ignoring his mate’s small sounds of protest.

Jimin’s lower lip wobbled and tears filled his eyes. “Alpha, please. Hurts. Please touch me.”

Who Knew that We Were Fools by Masquerada | 19k, 1chp Jungkook endangers his life to pretend that he isn't an omega. His life calls bullshit, and only Jimin can fix it.

til kingdom come by fatal (cumrich) | 3k, 1chp four months in and jimin still doesn't feel like he has a handle on this whole parenting thing. it doesn't help that jeongguk, as always, seems to be a natural.

花樣年華; when in bloom by chimout | 24k, 7chp He still remembers the conversation he shared with Namjoon at the side of the courtyard, hidden beneath the cherry blossoms and drenched in the shadows. They sat together for so long, Namjoon’s deep tremors voicing fears Jeongguk never knew he had.

Jeongguk left with five thoughts that haunt his mind still:

Though a myth, the existence of “true mates” does stem from the real but rare occurrence of two individuals experiencing heightened sensations during their first encounter.

The Grand Prince of Hyeneung is not Namjoon’s true mate. But Namjoon likes him enough, and both royal courts supposed that would suffice.

Nobody asked if the grand prince was fine with the arrangement.

But Jeongguk’s alpha is clearly not. And Jeongguk wants to offer an alternative, another form of alliance between Hyeneung and Gwawon through a different mating, but that option will be shot down immediately.

Because even though they are true mates, Jeongguk is merely the bastard prince of Gwawon.

sew your heart to my sleeve by graesun | 8k, 1 work in which alpha!jimin and omega!jungkook are mates for life

hope you're waiting at the end by petrichorian | 5k, 1chp It dawns on Jimin like a bucket of cold water. The unusually strong scent, Jeongguk’s nesting on the bed, his frail voice as he lays there like he’s in pain… Jeongguk’s in heat.

(I Bloom) Just For You by Charmander | 10k, 1chp He’s awe-inspiring, lost in the music, his smile brighter than the strobe lights. Jimin aches to join him, to snake his arms around him and hold him close as they dance together.

Instead, Jimin wraps a hand around his colorful drink again, abandoning the straw and tipping his head back to chug what remains. There are already at least three alphas vying for his best friend’s attention tonight. What chance does he have?

or

Jimin’s been in love with his best friend, Jungkook, for as long as they’ve known each other, but he knows Jungkook will never feel the same. Jungkook is out to prove him wrong when his heat starts and Jimin is the only one around to help him.

cinnamon and flame. by plutogcf | 1k, 1chp jimin and jungkook are newly mated boyfriends.

Bite Me To Show Me You Love Me by Luna242 | 2k, 1chp Slowly and gently, he bit down into the soft neck beneath him without breaking skin or eye contact with the Seventeen leader. He had to make a point.

Jungkook was his.

Jungkook whimpered and whined in his grip before a low growl sent vibrations straight through the omega and in an instant he went pliant in his arms.

Or Jungkook gets surrounded by alphas not from his pack and panics.

Infinite Arms by rebus | 9k, 1chp "There's a wolf at the edge of the forest."

It's a rare occurrence when a wolf shows up unannounced, often, it's unwelcome; but it's been a long time since the pack alpha has had to kill, and he doesn't wish to change that tonight.

"It's strange...the scent is."

You're Mated? by sammich_dominos | 6k, 1chp What's Jimin supposed to say when his friends find out that he isn't the single Omega they thought he was, that he's actually been mated for longer than he's know them, and what's their obsession with idol Jeon Jungkook?

undeserving by honeybriar | 11k, 1chp “jeongguk-ah,” says jimin, and there’s a tremble in his voice, too. “jeongguk-ah, baby. i want to help you. please let me help you.” jeongguk sniffs, letting out another sob because that’s worse, that’s worse—he made jimin feel like he wasn’t needed, wasn’t wanted. jeongguk said he didn’t need help, so why is jimin offering it? “i can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, though. if you don’t wanna open the door, that’s okay. but i need you to talk to me.”

“no,” jeongguk finally mumbles.

“what do you mean, no?”

“no,” repeats jeongguk, louder now. “i want you to go away.” it’s hardly the first time jimin has been present for one of jeongguk’s emotional breakdowns. they’ve seen each other cry enough times over the years to hardly be phased by it—and jeongguk knows that jimin knows better than anyone how to take care of him. how to make it better. but jeongguk still believes he deserves to suffer alone.

(or: jeongguk has a bad day at school. jimin makes it better.)

Beta Representations by minarenny | 3k, 1chp “Kookie,” Jimin says quietly. “I would never, ever be disappointed in you for what you present as. And I promised you could spend my heats with me once you presented, so as long as you still want to, you can. As for being knotted—I’ve got toys that simulate that just fine, you know. I’d rather...do other things.”

“Other things?” Jungkook wrinkles his nose, trying to dispel the thought of Jimin fucking himself with a toy, face flushed and lips parting in a moan as it knots him—

“Like fuck you, for instance.”

A Christmas Miracle by softjungoo | 1k, 1chp He covers his mouth in shock, tears glistening in his doe eyes. After almost 3 years of trying - 3 years of doctors, family members, and friends telling them its hopeless - it's finally happening. Or, Jungkook gives Jimin the best Christmas gift ever

blossom and sandalwood by namakemono | 1k, 1chp Every ten years, the head alphas of the eastern and southern packs meet to renew their peace treaty.

bonus: sugamonhopekook

skin show by eyeliner | 39k, 3chp two's company. three's a crowd. four is, well.

bonus: ot7

Rain and Raspberries by iamnotokpop | 4k, 1chp Jungkook loves berries. (And maybe a few other things too).

#smut #so much smut #but i mean #what can you expect from abo dynamics #abo #alpha beta omega #ao3 #fluff #angst #mpreg #jikook #kookmin #jimin #jungkook #busan boys #busan boyfriends #bts #bangtan #domestic fluff #soft boys #hurt/comfort #college/university au #alpha jungkook #alpha jeon jungkook #alpha jimin #alpha park jimin #omega jungkook #omega jeon jungkook #omega jimin #omega park jimin

[losebetter]

so i wanted to talk about something that’s been on my mind lately wrt masquerada - specifically about jaxus corvail. this isn’t a super serious meta essay (read: i’m just thinking out loud) but it does contain spoilers for the game so i’m putting it under the cut!!

on paper, jaxus - kalden azrus’ previous partner who was killed a year prior to the game’s start - sounds like another tired take on the same depressing trope. I KNOW. i know. it’s “bury your gays,” it’s “fridged partner makes living partner better/more determined,” we’re all sick of it - but something that i’ve had on my mind for a while is how even with that... it’s not, really? at least i don’t think so?

it’s not jaxus’ death that inspired kalden to grow or change, it’s his life. in the context of the story, jaxus’ death isn’t treated as his or kalden’s due diligence, the punishment they should’ve expected for being queer - it was an awful, unpredictable accident that caused such a severe fault in their family dynamic that kalden is at a complete loss of how to go on, how to heal. kalden’s grief over jaxus isn’t used as a springboard for his character development - it’s portrayed realistically as an undercurrent to who he is, and who he becomes. it’s something that will never leave him completely, but that he can find peace with enough to feel joy and acceptance with his family and with the people who have become his close friends.

jaxus isn’t buried and forgotten - in fact, i think that’s a huge part of kalden’s character arc - he can’t bury jaxus, he can’t just move on with his life while he’s being haunted like this, much less change who he is as a person, or feel some determination to do more. that isn’t how recovery works. all of kalden’s actions that are driven by his love for jaxus & their family (note: his grief is secondary, it’s his love that always comes first) are desperate bids to fix his past mistakes, to do something right - but it isn’t until he can talk the situation out with cicero & vint, or find real closure with the head matron (and to an extent, orlana) that he really sees jaxus’ death for what it had been: something that never should have happened. not something that was his fault, not something that they should expect, their relationship a ticking time bomb in a society with homophobic tenets - none of it.

i don’t know. maybe this doesn’t make sense, but at least to me, i’m very hesitant to label the game as burying its gays - not when it tells such a profound, sensitive story about grief (a real thing that yes gay people also experience, including for reasons specific to us and the danger we face in our everyday lives just for existing), and when kalden (easily the most memorable Canon Gay character for me since - what, glee, maybe? when i was like 15?) is written with such dignity and care, and his identity is given such empathetic, compassionate treatment. i don’t feel that jaxus was silenced, even though in reality, we never actually meet him - we don’t even know what he looks like - i honestly feel like his story is told as much as kalden’s, and that he fits right in with masquerada’s whole overarching narrative about how we move on after tragedy and what legacies we leave behind.

#meta #masquerada: songs and shadows #jaxus corvail #SORRY I - LOVE JAXUS? #i'm very... defensive about this apparently #kalden and jaxus are more important - too important to be dismissed as a Tragic Gay Couple

[thirtysixsavefiles]

Why you should play Masquerada: Songs and Shadows

I finished Masquerada: Songs and Shadows over the weekend, and I really, really think you should play this game. Here’s why:

Story: The story is, above all, what I recommend this game for. It’s set in a magic-infused, Venice-inspired city of politics and intrigue, and unfolds over the course of a few days. It’s a story about society and revolution and about connection. It also doesn’t pull its punches; it moved me to literal tears at times, and although it’s a little slow to start, once it gets going it gets going. I stayed up until 4 am just to finish it, and if that’s not a recommendation I don’t know what is. If you enjoy found families, political intrigue, and a narrative structure that keeps you guessing, you will like this game.

Characters: These characters. These characters are what bring the game to life. Everyone from the main party to smallest NPC has their own motivations for being where they are, and they interact beautifully; sometimes in alignment, sometimes at cross-purposes. The characters also learn and grow; their internal struggles are presented as just as important as the narrative plot events. These characters not perfect, and they don’t always make the right choices; but again, the themes of learning from your mistakes is strongly represented in the character development. (I admit that I am in deep for Cicero “denial-what-denial” Gavar.) If you enjoy characters with complex motivations, real development arcs, and who can, despite character growth, still be kind of a dick, you will like this game.

Gameplay: This is a tactical rpg, which means that it has a lot of dialogue and expository scenes interspersed with battles. It is extremely linear, and once you leave a “scene” you can’t go back to it without restarting that chapter; if you’re looking for open-world exploration, this is not it. But the battle mechanics are beautifully intricate; between battle stances, differing elements (water, earth, air, and fire), and the ability to set up automatic battle initiatives for each character, the battle system has the potential to be extremely customizable, if you’re into that. However, if you’re not - that’s why story mode exists! Story mode allows you to proceed through the game without spending hours perfecting a battle strategy with a shifting mix of characters. You can also switch between difficulty modes at any point in the game without jeopardizing your current progress. If you like complex, customizable battle strategies, you will like this game; if you like being able to proceed through the game without fear of getting stuck, you will also like this game.

Art: I realize I’ve used this word a lot already, but this game is beautiful, both in terms of the visual presentation and the voice acting, and the background music really sets the tone. The style may seem minimal at first, but it’s amazing how much expression the artists managed to to pack into what are essentially still frames. If you like beautiful art, music, and voice acting, you will like this game.

I’ve tried to keep this as general and as spoiler-free as possible, because since the game does rely so heavily on the story, I don’t want to ruin it for you! It’s also fairly short - about 15 hours is what the internet tells me, although I feel like it took me longer to play through.

In summary, I really liked this game and I think you should play it too.

#masquerada #masquerada: songs and shadows #listen #i've played and dropped a lot of games this year #this is the first one i've finished in months #and in a very short amount of time #for me #i liked it a lot

[msfcatlover]

Decided to try out Masquerada

It’s... *sigh* Look, the art style is nice, the world is interesting, and I like most of the characters, but I’m finding it more frustrating than fun plot-wise.

I’ll give it props that I don’t know where it’s going with its mystery, but I think it undermines the way it has restricted us to Cicero’s perspective with the flashes away to what the Herald is doing. Not being able to pause cut-scenes is a pain, and though the voice actors are amazing and I absolutely buy their emotional journeys, I’m getting kinda tired of learning everything through cutscene info-dump (followed by three unlocked codex pages that I have to read if I want appropriate context for the conversation that just happened,) instead of anything interactive.

Cicero’s choices are basically the same I would take if the story was interactive, but having no input makes them more frustrating. Instead of “Oh, erm, gee, I guess I’ll... tell a half truth Ihopethisdoesn’tbitemeintheass!” it becomes, “*Cicero tells a half truth* *I roll my eyes* Welp, this is gonna bite us in the ass!” Plus, I get that he’s basically a professional spy, well-trained and jaded, but with a soft heart under that carefully-polished shell, but. Then he makes calls that even (especially) in context of that characterization just seem objectively stupid? Like “Oh, no, you weren’t able to tell me anything useful about it, but sure. Hold onto that piece of evidence I found during my investigation. I do love indulging my friends, so it’s yours now!” or “Let’s yell about our important secrets in the middle of our base’s common room! You know, like sensible people who know how to keep those secrets!”

That... that last scene is what actually made me put it down for the night. Dude, I have zero (0) espionage training, and even I know that if you want to have a clandestine conversation, especially one that might get heated, you want to. Walk. Be walking, away from people who might overhear, and to make it harder to follow, and because it’s always easier to talk inbetween destinations! Even if he’s emotionally compromised, that! Was! Stupid!

*deep breath* The way the maps and collectibles are implemented makes me feel like it was supposed to be more open-world (and maybe it becomes one later on; I’m pretty sure I only just made it out of the tutorial after playing all evening!) but the way it is right now is just frustrating. I’d like to investigate on my own, I’d like not to worry that by taking a wrong turn and walking into an inescapable cutscene I’m missing something like one of the masks (which are so important to the symbolism and magic system and FIGHTING SYSTEM of the game?!) and will never be able to come back for it. Which makes it really fucking hard to get invested in the scene that then happens, because the main thought on my mind is “Fuck, I just missed one, didn’t I? I thought that corner back there was the one this scene would be down, but it wasn’t, which means it must have the collectibles, which I’ve missed, and there’s no manual saves, save-files, or reload, so. I’m just fucked. Great. Fuck.”

Also, can’t pause during cutscenes. Pain.

The main character claims he has literally never encountered a single queer person before the plot of this game? He’s in his (what) late 30s, early 40s? (The art style makes it really hard to tell, but he said “three decades on the streets” at one point, so... was that how long he lived in the city, or how long until he managed to win his way out of the gutter?) I get that their world is prejudice, but. Um. Dudes, they didn’t even tell us it had homophobia until after that conversation. Bad look, bad place to drop that flag, well-executed plot-point, but... f r u s t r a t i n g.

I have no problems with linearity, but I wish I was playing the more interactive game the studio clearly wanted to make but couldn’t, rather than the one I bought.

...Could be a neat setting for some AUs, though. Food for thought.

#spoilers #rant #my life #mine #games

[meijinartists-blog]

hooty hoo!

Hey there! Welcome to our first post in the Meijin Artists tumblr! I’m first up to do a quick little self intro.

Pertinent (?) Stuff!

Name: manicalicorn (you can call me manic, ali [aeh-lee], alicorn, or maddr)

Prefered Pronouns: She/Her, They/Them, He/Him, It/Its, Your Majesty, My Lord/Lady, This/That One, Cap’n...

Stuff I Do: I’m largely a fan-artist working primarily digitally and traditionally with brushpen. I also cry and sleep a lot and like to challenge people to fights I have no chance of winning.

Fandoms I’m Drawing: I’m all over the place, honestly ^^;; But my current fanart targets are Boku no Hero Academia, NieR:Automata, and Assassin’s Creed... Mostly BnHA.

Additional Tags I’ll Use: ‘#manic draws’ for art uploads, ‘#manic writes’ for fic uploads, and ‘#manic rants’ for text uploads, such as this one.

Find More of My Art At: My instagram here, and my tumblr artblog here. Asks and DMs welcome!

Less Important Stuff

Personal Tumblog: manicalicorn. I mostly shitpost (*cough* reblog shitposts *cough*) there. Once in a blue moon I crosspost some of my art. But feel free to DM me there too!

Steam Username: sick_seaweed. Always up for more gamer buddies.

AO3: AnglophilicSins. I update really really really infrequently so read at your own risk.

Other Fandoms (in no particular order): Merlin, Sherlock, Supernatural, Dragon Age, Mass Effect, Love Live, Masquerada, Hetalia, MysMes, Naruto, One Punch Man, Skyrim, Avengers, Thor, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter... there’s probably more but I can’t think of them right now.

Other Interests: Animation, Linguistics, Languages, Narrative-Writing, Game Dev

Personality Type: INTJ/P, Ravenclaw. Any fellow Ravens out there? OvO

Aye, that’s all from me! Look forward to the others ^u^b

#manic rants #intros

[canniballistics]

quick thinking

fandom: masquerada: songs and shadows pair: cicero/kalden words: 2215 ao3 version here. this definitely is what should have happened during the game. definitely. kissing as a disguise definitely definitely should have happened.

It was not, he supposed, one of the strangest situations he'd ever been in. Surely there had been more instances, varied and colorful, over the last few years; the fact that he could only remember some as little more than their consequences lent credence to that belief. Certainly, there were few things as odd as creeping around the sewers in disguise, with a Mariner in tow, but having ended up in the gutter on more than one occasion, Cicero couldn't help but feel that this couldn't rank too highly on that list.

His companion was an odd sort; why he was so desperate to find his brother, despite not having spoken with him for years, was perhaps even stranger than their situation. Despite their differences in ideology, he and Cyrus had still spoken, and often. It only stopped when—

Hm. That was not a helpful train of thought. He shook his head to clear it, and very nearly walked straight into the Mariner's back. A large hand shot out to help steady him as he stumbled; Cicero took it by instinct, and rather than continuing to ruminate on his brother, found himself instead marvelling at the difference between their two hands. He had seen the proof of it when the ladder had broken beneath the man's bulk, and was reminded again whenever they stood shoulder to shoulder — head to shoulder: Kalden Azrus was an absolute mountain of a man. Cicero couldn't stop his mind wandering, the quiet, dark parts wondering—

"Inspettore?" The voice was soft, but puzzled, snapping Cicero out of his thoughts and the strange turns they were taking. He looked up into dark eyes, which glanced back down to where their hands were still clasped. "Is everything alright?"

"Ages," Cicero muttered, drawing his hand back quickly. "I'm sorry, I was..distracted." He laughed, and was glad that it didn't sound nearly as forced as it was. "You're quite different from Razitof. I have to wonder just what your parents fed you, growing up. Must've eaten all your spinach, and Razitof's share as well, hm?"

It was far from the response he thought he would get as the Mariner straightened up, his expression seeming to shutter as he turned away. "No," was all he said, before turning back to the mouth of the alley they occupied.

Far from put out, Cicero instead felt...what? Curiosity, surely, at that reaction. Perhaps also a touch of regret? He hadn't thought to reach a sore spot so soon, and with what he'd thought to be a harmless jest. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it just as quickly. Chances were high that anything he said to excuse himself would only exacerbate the issue; instead, he crept up next to the man, checking to make sure their way was clear. He let a hand settle on Kalden's bare forearm, blinking in surprise upon realizing there was a tattoo there. Interesting. He didn't really seem the type. Hidden depths, Cicero had to remind himself. People are not so simple as to be one-dimensional; everyone has hidden depths, and Kalden is no different.

Once he was sure he had his attention, Cicero offered a small smile. "I...apologize, for any misstep I might have made. It was not my intent to offend, in whatever way I did; I'll be sure to take more care with my words, in the future." And then, without waiting for a response, he darted out of the alley. "Come. The coast is clear, for now."

It was gratifying, then, that Kalden followed him without word or question. They made their way across what must surely have been a trading square, dodging between abandoned stalls and tables. Cicero hesitated for only a moment before swiping an apple from a forgotten bushel; he rubbed it against his borrowed sleeve before taking a bite, and only noticed after that Kalden was watching him, an eyebrow raised.

"What is it, Mariner?"

"You cannot be certain where that shirt has been," Kalden said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "And I believe that may have been someone's produce to sell. Should an Inspettore really be stealing from the people?"

"Pah," Cicero dismissed the words with a wave of his hand. "The whole area's been all but abandoned! I'm merely saving this poor apple from a horrible fate, of rotting away and never fulfilling its potential as a food." He paused, thinking. "Though, you may have a point about the shirt."

It earned him a low chuckle, and Cicero had to look away quickly, busy himself with taking another large bite of apple. That was...an interesting sound. Fascinating, really, how it seemed to rumble deep in Kalden's broad chest before eventually tumbling from his lips. Cicero found himself wanting to hear it again.

They were working, however. This was neither the time, nor the place. Nor the borrowed outfits, despite how suited Kalden was to his.

"Anyway," Cicero coughed, once he'd finished chewing. "I believe we'll be heading that way," and he gestured to a nearby street. "We should—"

He was interrupted by a clattering on the other side of the plaza, and the two of them darted around the closest corner. Cursing echoed after them, as well as unfamiliar voices.

"Would you shut up!"

"Sorry, sorry! Someone scattered some damn bottles, nearly twisted my ankle!"

"Well, maybe if you weren't so clumsy—"

"Hey, who're you calling clumsy?!"

"Will the both of you shut up! Or did you forget we're looking for someone?!" The other two voices quieted immediately. "Alfons and Edvard didn't just lose their clothes, someone had to have taken them. We have to find and stop whoever that is!"

"Right!" "Of course! Sorry!"

Damn. It only made sense that they'd be found out; such a ruse couldn't possibly last. Cicero had hoped they'd had more time, however, and he glanced around as his mind raced. They were in a small, shaded alley, whose only outlet would deliver them straight into their pursuers' hands. That was not an option, not so quickly, but if he and Kalden were to stay put, they would surely be discovered. They needed to hide in plain sight, to have their stalkers turn their gazes of their own accord. His mind turned back to the five years he'd spent adrift, and of the fastest way he knew to disappear.

"Ages. Mariner, this way."

Cicero grabbed Kalden's arm, dragging him further into shadow. Far enough that the colors of their clothes were muddled by the darkness, hopefully indistinguishable between the Maskrunners' uniforms and a Contadani's day to day. The footsteps of their pursuers were getting louder; they must have left a trail, where they cleared debris from their path. Cicero looked up at Kalden, who was frowning toward the mouth of the alley.

"Should we not simply fight?" he muttered, before looking down at Cicero. "It sounds as though there are only the three; I'm sure—"

"Not without calling attention to the skirmish," Cicero interrupted. He winced as a basket went rolling past their alley. "And I'm afraid that is time we do not have to waste." They were getting closer. He needed to act, and quickly. He grabbed Kalden's hands, settling them on his waist, before hooking his own at the back of Kalden's neck. Tried very, very hard not to think about how thoroughly those large hands spanned his waist. "Forgive me," he murmured, before pulling him down for a kiss.

It was, admittedly, not the best plan. Hell, it was barely a plan at all. When he thought about all the various ways this could backfire, it very nearly made Cicero laugh; the Maskrunners would simply need to come into the alley, or Kalden could shove him away. He would be well within his right to, if he did, and so all Cicero could now was wait, and hope. Hope that the party seeking them would be so embarrassed by public affection so to turn away, hope that Kalden would trust him to let this work.

And somewhere deep in his chest, hope that this did not completely unravel what thin ties they had been already begun weaving.

Kalden froze against him nearly immediately. It was hardly unexpected. Cicero was well aware of how they would be treated if they were discovered, and a pang of guilt struck through him at how this might damage Kalden's reputation. His own was run so ragged and tarnished already that the thought of one more stain didn't bother him in the least; Kalden, however, was far from a disgraced exile. He might have a life, a family — the thought of upending whatever quiet life Kalden had made for himself twisted in Cicero's gut.

It was too late for regrets, however. Not a second later, a pair of shadows appeared at the end of the alley. Cicero could barely see them past Kalden's shoulder, found himself praying that their posing was convincing enough. The figures stood there for a moment, assessing — Cicero couldn't tell if they were watching the two of them, or if they were looking at something else — before thankfully, blessedly moving on.

"Nothin' down there, Liv."

"Yeah, maybe they escaped into one of these buildings? That one's got a smashed window, they could've climbed in there!"

"Then what are you two waiting for? Go on!"

The figures at the end of the alley were joined by a third, and Cicero could hear a quiet, derisive "don't they know what's going on right now?" before the three of them moved, past the alley and away.

Cicero let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, sagging into Kalden and leaning his head against his shoulder as relief washed through him. They hadn't been found out, not yet; it was this thought that kept his arms around Kalden's shoulder, to keep up the appearance of intimacy between them. There was no way to tell whether or not their pursuers would come back, or if someone else was following after them. The safest thing to do was to keep up pretenses, for at least a moment longer.

"Cicero—" Kalden's voice was tense, a deep, low whisper against his ear that sent a shudder down Cicero's spine. Ages. Who allowed this? At least he was keeping his voice down, quiet enough that only Cicero could hear. "What are we doing?"

He laughed against Kalden's neck, almost giddy at the fact this new ruse had succeeded. "At the moment? Keeping up appearances, in case those three return." Truly, I can't believe this worked, he thought, and bit his lip to keep from giving it voice. Best not to let Kalden know how unsure he'd been about all this, that he hadn't been remotely close to positive the deception would succeed.

Kalden only sighed deeply. "And before?"

Cicero watched for a moment more, before stepping back from Kalden. It was a strange shift, nearly unbalancing him; he hadn't realized he'd been standing on the tips of his toes to make himself tall enough. "I learned...a while ago, that most people are not fans of public displays of affection. To see a loving couple doting, or embracing — most turn their eyes away, so as not to stare. It makes people uncomfortable, so they unconsciously stop themselves from seeing it."

"And you figured that this would protect our anonymity?" There was a strange quality to Kalden's voice, something that Cicero couldn't quite place. "What if we had been discovered?"

His hands had curled into fists, Cicero realized. He took a deep breath. "Then we would have summarily dispatched them, and whatever reputation you may have here in the Citte would be safe." Cicero chewed at the inside of his lip, just for a second, before looking at him. "I am sorry. It was the quickest way I could think of to keep their eyes off of us. And if things had taken a turn for the worse, I assure you, the blame would fall squarely on my own shoulders. I would not allow it any other way."

Kalden was quiet for a moment, watching him. His hands, at least, had unfurled as he'd been speaking. "You are an…interesting man, Cicero."

A quiet chuckle, and Cicero nodded. "Thank you. It's far from the worst I've been called, and you would be well within your right to call me worse; I'll gratefully accept interesting, from you."

He turned then, creeping up to the mouth of the alley and peering around the corner. There was no sign of the people who had been chasing them, having apparently climbed into one of the buildings adjacent to theirs and kept moving. It was a stroke of luck, and not one that he intended to waste.

"Let's go, Mariner," he murmured, gesturing back at him. "We've got work to do, after all."

Again, Cicero found himself surprised when Kalden followed after him. Surprised, but also relieved. No doubt the man wanted to find his brother, and that was the reason; still, it was something of a comfort to know he hadn't yet cost himself an ally. Whether or not the partnership would last remained to be seen.

For now, at least, it was enough. They had a job to do, after all.

#masquerada: songs and shadows #cicero gavar #kalden azrus #masquerada #marinspettore #there's gonna be a lot more of this from me #just you wait #kieran writes

[kaytewrites]

the quick release || masquerada: songs and shadows || chapter seven

(a/n: i am SO SORRY for the wait but like… life comes @ u fast y'all but its here!!! chapter 7!!!! and i’ve officially given up bc i think it’ll probably be another two chapters before this is over but like i said that two chapters ago and HERE WE ARE ANYWAY so like… be patient w/ me blease im trying ;^;

i made this an extra 1000 words bc y'all had to wait so long n im sorry but i hope y'all like it!

more kisses for the boys. more boys kissing. more boys being vulnerable and soft w/ each other. it’s Good all around.)

also on AO3!

They eventually wander back to the carriage - Alena instantly perks at seeing them emerge from the brush, shouting a happy “Hello, sirs!” while Ricardo blinks himself awake.

“Did you have a good time, sirs?” Alena chirps, far too chipper for how late (or how early) it is.

Tristan nods, glancing back at Vasco. He’s still got that ridiculous smile on his face, the faintest brush of red around his jaw where Tristan’s beard had rubbed it raw.

“Of course, dear Alena!” Vasco’s voice is just as chipper. It makes Tristan want to laugh, or kiss him, or both. It’s new, this want that blooms in his chest and makes his fingers grip his cane a little tighter.

Tristan shakes his head and hobbles back onto the carriage. “Hope nothing bothered you out here - sorry for keeping you both up so late.”

“’Sfine,” Ricardo mutters. “Not like we would’ve been sleeping anyway.”

Alena elbows him, making him glare at his sister. “What he meant to say is that it’s no trouble at all, Valencio.”

Tristan raises an eyebrow. “As long as both of you are fine.” Tristan settles on his seat, Vasco settling next to him just like he did on the ride here - but it feels different, now. Vasco makes sure to settle on his left side, snaking a hand between them in the dark to twine his fingers in Tristan’s own, and it’s all so adolescent and silly that he can’t stop the little laugh that bubbles up from his throat.

“What?” Vasco mumbles, but the grin on his face says he knows exactly why Tristan’s a step away from giggling.

He decides to change topics, speaking low. “Do you think the twins are alright?”

Vasco frowns, a quick twitch of his lips. “Not at all. Cicero spends more time with them than I do, and Kalden besides. They might be the ones to speak to. Suddenly concerned with the Tvothes welfare?”

Tristan nods. “Yes, I suppose. I’ve seen neither hide nor hair of a parent the entire time they’ve been with the Registry. They’ve been with us for a year now, maybe two. I know the Citte isn’t - wasn’t - isn’t kind to the Contadani, but I never thought…”

“Orphans were always more of a Sorelle affair, weren’t they?” Vasco’s voice is carefully blank, nonchalant in a way Tristan is learning means he cares far more than he lets on.

Tristan casts a glance to the twins; Alena is staring forward, chipper demeanor lost now that she doesn’t think eyes are on her. There are dark circles under her eyes from what he can see, and she slumps in her seat, exhausted. All of this he could attribute to the time, but considering her behavior earlier… Ricardo fares no better, either, though he wears his exhaustion plainly, not hiding it behind a cheery veneer.

He resolves to ask Cicero about the twins’ welfare once they return. He carefully settles his head on Vasco’s shoulder, wrapping his arm around the other man’s waist.

“The world is changing,” he thinks he hears Vasco say, but he’s asleep between one breath and the next.

They arrive back at Seimora’s Throne in the early hours of the morning, the horizon just barely tinged with the light of the sun. The twins give them both a salute as they disembark, looking more dead on their feet than ever.

“Do they have rooms here?” Tristan asks Vasco, to which he nods.

“They’ll stable the horses first, because they’re nothing if not dependable, and rest for the day - well, Ricardo will. Alena will probably sleep for an hour before forcing herself awake again.” Vasco shakes his head, tutting. “The girl never stops. She’s officially apprenticed, did you know that? Artigiani, if I’m not mistaken. Ricardo, too, though he is a Fabra.”

Tristan did not know. He didn’t even think the twins had the aptitude for that kind of careful maskwork - and yet, here they are. Color him surprised.

Vasco looks at him with some inscrutable emotion in his eyes. “You’ve always been a Masquerada, Tristan.” The smile on his face is not unkind, but it’s - it’s as though he’s staring a thousand yards off, reliving something in memory. “This is entirely normal for a Contadani.”

And of course Tristan knew. He knew how bad it was, he was Valencio, how could he not? But there was politics, and people, and Maskrunners - and somewhere along the way, the Contadani got left on the wayside.

He starts walking toward the Throne, a frown on his face. Vasco is just a step behind.

“Tristan, are you alright? You seem unfocused.”

It’s Kalden’s voice that breaks him out of his reverie. It’s been three days since his excursion, and he’s been absent-minded ever since, thoughts always finding a way to twist back to Vasco, or the Contadani, or the Tvothes. “I’m fine, Kalden. Why do you ask?”

“Mmm. I can see why you and Cicero are so close. You both do the same thing when there’s something on your mind.” He removes his hand from Tristan’s stump, handing his shirt back to him. Tristan tugs it on, tying off the end on his right arm while Kalden speaks. “Deflect to me so I can inform you what your tells are. Cicero does it far more than you do, but that may be because I spend more time with him.” Kalden sighs, shaking his head. “Both of you are a mess.”

“I do not-”

Kalden silences him with a look, and Tristan shuts his mouth.

He finishes tugging on his shirt before he speaks again.

“Vasco, I suppose. The Tvothes, too, but…” Tristan shrugs. “Were you ever Contadani, Kalden?”

The only thing betraying his annoyance is a twitch of the eyebrow and his carefully measured tone. “A rather personal question, Valencio.”

He winces. “Sorry. It’s just-”

Kalden smiles, annoyance smoothing over into understanding. “You might just be the only one of this little circle that hasn’t been Contadani, Tiziana excluded. And I presume this question doesn’t come from nowhere. Perhaps something to do with what’s been bothering you?”

“Now who’s asking pointed questions,” Tristan mutters, but doesn’t answer.

Kalden is silent for a long moment, pulling his mask from his face and letting it fade into the ether. He huffs. “Alright, Tristan. Cicero’s door, as well as mine, are always open to you.” There’s a strange twist to his mouth as he speaks the next, his eyes almost guarded. “If there is anything - anything - you may wish to speak about, we are always here for you.”

Tristan feels as though he’s missing something, but he’s already pushed as far as he dares. He doesn’t want to break the bounds of Kalden’s kindness - woe be unto the man that turns a good man hard, and all that. “Thank you,” he says instead.

Kalden nods. “If there’s any more phantom pain, tell me. There are some exercises I want to go through with you next time.” He levers himself off the chair next to the bed, heading for the door. “I think I’ve taken enough of your time today, though, Tristan.”

“You’re never a burden, Kalden. It’s always a pleasure to see you.” Tristan speaks with a smile. He really does enjoy the other man’s company, for all his occasional crypticism. At least he’s not as bad as Vasco.

And then, there’s that same almost-guarded look in Kalden’s eyes. “I was serious when I said - anything,” he says.

Tristan struggles to put together what he means - it’s obvious there’s something he’s missing, something Kalden hopes he’ll put together himself so he won’t have to speak it aloud. “Alright,” he responds slowly, hoping Kalden will just assume he understands.

Kalden just sighs, giving him a wave as he leaves. Damn. Guess he wasn’t that convincing after all.

He likes to think now that everything’s over, this is the easy part. He’s missing an arm, sure, and he’s still limping, months after the worst chapter of his life closed with his almost-death, but he’s alive. The Citte is alive. The Consilio argue, sure, but they agree more often than not and that’s a miracle in and off itself. The guilds have become more peaceable, less fractured. It’s a world Tristan never thought he’d see. It’s a world he’s glad to wake up to.

Not everything is perfect, though.

He dreams like this: snapshot images of the Spire burning around him, smoke in his lungs his throat his eyes - he blinks, and the world changes, stars in his eyes and cold in his chest. He reaches for a sword he doesn’t have with an arm he doesn’t have, either, and when he drops to his knees, there’s a sneering face above him, sword at his throat, and he’s falling as they kick him back off the bridge. He claws at the mask on his face, begging it to save him one last time, but it flutters to dust in the air, to ether, and he knows he must be dead, must be, it’s the only way they glow like that -

“Tristan!” calls a voice to his side, and he’s darting up from his desk and whipping his arm out wildly, trying to push away whatever’s trying to hurt him next -

It takes him a long moment to come back to himself. “Vasco?”

He’s got a hand to his nose, and something conspicuously red is dripping from between his fingers. “Ages. This how you greet a friend?” There’s a hint of a laugh in his voice, but it’s smothered by his wince.

“Ages, ages, Vasco, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think-”

He gives a short sort of cut-off laugh, holding his nose pinched between two fingers. “Next time, I’ll let you nap.”

Tristan ushers Vasco to the bed, making him sit and grabbing a cloth from the bedside table to dab at the blood. He inspects it carefully, moving Vasco’s hands away with a huff. It doesn’t look broken, which he’s thankful for - ages. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he’d actually broken Vasco’s nose. Probably feel even more guilty than he already does.

Vasco looks far too bemused by the whole affair. “If I’d known all it took to get your attention was waking you from a nap, I’d have done it more often - even with the danger to my face.” It’s a joke and a question all in one - Tristan can hear the unspoken how often do you wake fighting? in his voice.

Tristan doesn’t answer. He has a feeling it’s far more often than either of them would like.

“I’m sorry,” he says instead, and prepares himself to summon his mascherine. He can at least heal this, his own problems be damned -

- but Vasco rests a hand on his arm, distracting him. “Now now, you’re a hard working man. I won’t begrudge you a nap at your desk - though your bed is barely ten feet away, you know, and much softer than the one they gave me.” He emphasizes by leaning back against the pillows, sighing - and then flinging a hand up with a wince when he jostles his swelling nose with the motion. “Damn,” he grins, and then drops the grin when that, too, exacerbates the injury.

Tristan feels a smile tug at the corners of his lips, but the guilt still writhes in his chest. “I shouldn’t have been sleeping, anyway - I knew you were coming by, and I know how I am when I’m woken.” It’s an answer of a sort to the question Vasco didn’t ask.

Vasco’s face takes on that inscrutable emotion again - Tristan is becoming more familiar with it by the day. He redirects the conversation ever so slightly, which Tristan is grateful for. “Does it look broken, then?”

“No, thankfully. Just bruised.”

“Damn. Maybe a broken nose could enhance my ruggedly good looks - how about you punch it again for good measure?”

“You absolute bastard,” Tristan admonishes. Vasco has a shit-eating grin plastered to his face, and Tristan knows it has to hurt his nose, but he doesn’t even flinch.

Tristan finishes cleaning up Vasco’s face with a deft, practiced hand - most of the waterbrands were taught at least rudimentary first aid, Tristan included, seeing as it’s the element most tuned to healing. He makes to summon his mascherine again, but Vasco shakes his head. “Nah. I think it’ll be fine.”

Tristan thinks of all the times Vasco has seen him struggle with the thing, and realizes Vasco is much kinder than he gives himself credit for.

He’s holding a new cloth to his nose, but now he’s leaned back against the pillows and the headboard. Tristan shutters the thought that he looks good there before it even begins to float around in his head. He just punched the man in the face, not three days after kissing him -

Tristan feels his cheeks heat, and the silence suddenly becomes thick, awkward between them.

“Have you seen the twins recently?” Tristan asks, for lack of things to fill the space. He still hasn’t asked Cicero about them, and mentally kicks himself.

“Nope,” Vasco answers, popping the ‘p’. “Not since our little adventure.” His eyes turn fond, and Tristan feels the distance between them keenly; he remembers it being closed, remembers Vasco’s breath mingling with his own in the night air -

Shame floods him, and he bites it back, shoves it down his throat, swallows it. What had he said? You’ll have to be patient with me. Ages, if he isn’t feeling it now.

Vasco’s face drops into a frown. “Tristan, I don’t - I was under the assumption we were on the same page.”

Tristan is quick to soothe, almost jumping off the bed in his haste. “No! Yes, I mean - we were - are - are on the same page. I just…” He slumps, running a hand through his hair. Oddly, he thinks about how he needs to get it cut, and shunts the thought from his mind to focus on the matter at hand.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t seen you these past three days. It’s been,” he pauses; he knows his next words might hurt, but they’re the truth: “It’s been easier to not think about what happened, honestly. I don’t want to forget it, but -” He looks at Vasco, pleading. He doesn’t know what he wants; here, in the light of day, it’s harder to face than in the dream-soft haze of night.

Vasco’s lips twist into a frown. ���Sorry for pushing you, then. If you’d rather forget-”

“Ages, Vasco, I just told you I didn’t want that!” Tristan lets his irritation seep into his voice. “I just think that maybe it’s - ill-advised at best. Or maybe I’m overreacting! There are barely even Legacies anymore,” and his voice tapers off, finally noticing the hurt look on Vasco’s face.

“So that’s what this is about,” Vasco breathes, and Tristan feels like a fool.

“Yes? No. Maybe. I don’t know!” The fight dies in him, irritation cooling to regret. “Sorry. You don’t - deserve this. I’m-” being a child, being foolish, being an idiot, he wants to finish, but the words die in his throat. “Sorry. You shouldn’t have to be so patient with me.”

Vasco sighs, frown slipping from his lips to something fonder. “You’re an idiot,” he says, and when Tristan nods it makes him laugh; it’s the best sound Tristan’s ever heard, even when he winces and his nose starts bleeding again.

Tristan’s hand is dangerously close to Vasco’s where they lay on the bed, and he debates whether he should take hold of it for far too long - long enough that Vasco notices his internal argument and just grabs his hand himself, pulling him closer on the bed. It’s a little precarious, and Tristan feels like he might fall off any moment now, but he can feel where Vasco’s hip presses against his own, and when Vasco winks up at him and drops the hand holding the cloth, well -

He’s always been weak to a pretty face.

He’s careful of Vasco’s tender nose as he leans forward, pausing just before their lips meet.

“Second thoughts, Valencio?” Vasco says, and there’s something underneath the words that makes Tristan want to wrap his arms around Vasco and never let go.

“Not now,” Tristan says instead, and means it.

The kiss is slow, careful, almost an apology. Vasco reciprocates readily, deepening it with a sigh.Tristan is lost in the sensation of it, Vasco’s hand sliding onto his neck, deft fingers curling into his hair. There’s intent behind the motion, and when Vasco tugs on it ever so slightly as he takes Tristan’s lower lip between his teeth, he gives a sharp inhale.

Vasco lets him breathe a moment - it’s new, here, with just them, nothing outside this room feeling more real than where they press together, Tristan near sitting in Vasco’s lap - and he’s just a touch overwhelmed.

Just a touch, he consoles himself, as Vasco’s nose begins to bleed anew. It prompts a string of curses from the other man, and Tristan laughs.

“You’re the one that gave me this damn problem,” he grumbles, but he can’t quite repress the smile on his lips. “What were you even working on before I arrived, anyway?”

“A report,” Tristan says, then wrinkles his nose. “I’ll probably have to rewrite it. I tend to - drool.”

Vasco laughs, which makes Tristan pout, which makes Vasco kiss him until he stops pouting. It’s a good deal, all things considered.

#masquerada #masquerada songs and shadows #trisco #tristan delzole #vasco tessitore #masquerada: songs and shadows #the quick release #the quick release chapter 7

[strategischwelt]

“I am looking for information within this book, as well as within the two my colleagues are carrying. I do not have the luxury of time to sift through its contents, and I implore you to lend me your assistance, for just a few moments, in this endeavour.” Cicero Gavar

CREDITS Poses by: faestock (Reading 5)(Browncoat - Stock Reference 13)(Powder Blue 10) SenshiStock (Sailor Meguin's Threat)(Introducing: King Chaos!)(Sailor Pose 10)(Tuxedo AK47 2) PhelanDavion (Sniper STOCK XX)(Officer STOCK I) jademacalla (Frost_BonVoyage_3)(Rakish Hobbit Style_02) anyman82 (Soldier - Port (15)) Alegion-stock (WW2 Stock 9)(WW2 Stock 21) Train station by FairieGoodMother (Old Train Station 4) Helicopter by RandomFtw (Helicopter stock 10) Car by StockProject1 in StockProject (Red Car 4502958) Street by StockProject1 in StockProject (Daiba Street 11581310) Template by IRUser (Gta Eq Template 02) Cover: Parody of Grand Theft Auto V | Original cover Characters from Masquerada: Songs and Shadows Left/Top to bottom: Vasco Tessitore, Amadea Invidius, Avestus Aliarme, and Lissandra Rorik Center/Top to bottom: Asha, Privia Onair, Cicero Gavar, Vint, and Ricardo Tvothe Right/Top to bottom: Brekken Tarius, Tiziana de Felici, Vicario Emirus, and Kalden Azrus

Masquerada: Songs of Shadows © Witching Hour Studios. All rights reserved.

#masquerada: songs and shadows #Masquerada #modern au #modern military #new year #new year 2018 #Vasco Tessitore #Amadea Invidius #Avestus Aliarme #Lissandra Rorik #Asha #Privia Onair #Va Privia's rant about the White Spire (including Inspettore Cicero Gavar) #Vint #Ricardo Tvothe #Brekken Tarius #Tiziana de Felici #Vicario Emirus #Kalden Azrus #We're gonna celebrate NEW YEAR 2018! #HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! #fanart

[solanj]

Masquerada: Songs and shadows

I have a feeling that most of my wonderful followers do play video games and do appreciate a good story (and may be even prioritize the game's story over its gameplay, like I do). So I'm going to heavily recommend you this game that stole my heart and left it in tiny shreds. It’s “Masquerada: Songs and shadows” from Witching Hour Studios, if the title wasn’t obvious enough. I need to warn you, though: it's labeled as an RPG in Steam, which it isn't. From RPG's it took that classic real-time with tactical pause combat and some options considering hero leveling, but not much more than this. Also story is completely linear. No choices, no different endings. And it is just SO strong and beautiful! (I guess, it is partially because writers had no boundaries that choices and branching would have put upon them.) I just can't praise it enough. Everything that adds to the emotional impact is just perfect. And oh, how I love all the characters! They are so wonderfully flawed and growing and alive! Also the world (and worldbuilding!) is amazing. Human-only high fantasy within Italian Renaissance styled setting with clear Venetian vibes (also masks!) with politics, investigation, civil war and lots of beautiful drama. And also my favourite (from now on) game protagonist! Well, I can continue preaching for couple of centuries because I'm just completely heartbroken and head-over-hills in love with every bit of this game. If you want more on the matter you can check my Steam review. Or ask me, I'd be happy to tell you more! I've played it almost three weeks ago and still have severe 'story hangover' and ALL THE FEELS. And I crave desperately for discussions, theories, fanart and all the fandom stuff, which, unfortunately, I (almost) can't get as the fandom is surprisingly small. So please, try it! If you already played it and feel even the slightest desire to say something - I'm here with widely open arms, askbox and PM and I'd be more than happy to discuss anything about 'Masquerada'. Also try to avoid spoilers. And may be block me, because it is going to be the only thing I’ll write (and draw) about for the foreseeable future.

#masquerada:songs and shadows #MSAS #masquerada #witching hour studios #fangirling #wall of text #I'm SO in love #this game is just like an answer for everything I ever asked #also Cicero #I'll never tire to repeat how amazing he is #and all the others #and the world #and the music #somebody please stop me #or don't because NOTHNIG can stop me here #I'm so grateful this game exists #my only regret is that idiscovered it so late #and the fact that it is so terribly unseen

[losebetter]

asexualshepard said: 4, 8, 15, & 28 for the writers' ask meme?? :D Anonymous said: For the "get to know your author" meme, 10, 16 and 22 please? ;o;

sure thing, guys!! :D thanks for sending some in - and sorry in advance that i’m apparently feeling super chatty tonight, haha.

4) favorite character you’ve written

ahh man. it definitely fluctuates with fandom, but i have memorable favorites for sure. maccready (fo4) is definitely up there (i was going to say “which should surprise no one,” then i realized most of my rookcready fic is rotting on my hard drive, oops). i really get a kick out of writing tiziana (masquerada) and ignis (ffxv). i favor emotionally honest characters in general... it’s hard to say one for sure!

8) favorite genre to write

hmmm... well, asiding that fanfic is kind of its own genre, i don’t think i have one! i love experimenting with different styles and settings, which is part of why i love fanfic so much. i will say that masquerada falls into my wheelhouse pretty well, though - as much as i love more modern jives, i love testing the limits of... sort of “prim high fantasy,” i guess? i think there’s so much nuance you can pack into a story with such laser focuses like that, and it’s a fun challenge for me to really think everything out to the letter. it’s why that kalden WIP has turned into such an untamable thing, there’s just no limit to how deep into the lore you can go.

(which is honestly a little bizarre, because when i’m reading i almost always prefer sci-fi/modern takes. huh.)

also, erotica is king for me regardless of setting, i can’t get enough of writing it and i think it (particularly queer erotica) is just so important for us to celebrate and be open about. does that count?

10) write in silence or with background noise? with people or alone?

all of the above, actually! i can think of instances for every one of those, there is just no rhyme or reason to the things i do. i’d say i’m most productive with music on and by myself, though.

15) why did you start writing?

i started writing - fanfic, that is - about a decade ago, specifically because i was involved in a holiday exchange, struggling to pinch-hit, completely out of energy for visual art, and had always wanted to give it a go. i think i wrote 6,000 words in one night because no one ever taught me how to stop.

16) are there any characters who haunt you?

oooohh, what an interesting question! i don’t want to sound like... you know, that guy, but i think i’ve put in enough hours learning to act for stage in my life that characters rarely “haunt” me, i don’t think - or, at least not to such a degree, especially once i’ve told the story i want to tell. unfinished stories haunt me, but characters tend to stay where i need them. (they occasionally push limits, depending on the subject matter, but in general, once the words are out, it’s okay again.) 

it was important for me to learn to establish those boundaries when i was acting, because there are immediate consequences to not doing that, mental health and otherwise. i did some playwriting and directing as well, which really hammered it home because i was looking out for other people.

(actually, there’s a character who does sort of haunt me from my acting days? cassius, from julius caesar. GOD, what a fuckin’ mess that guy is. NEVER AGAIN, by which i mean i will basically always accept that role if i have the opportunity because it’s the only way to get any catharsis about it.)

22) are there any subjects that make you uncomfortable to write?

yeah, for sure - more than there used to be. ): bluntly, i just can’t handle writing medical talk anymore. doctor’s offices to trauma to surgeries, any of it. freaks me out just to read about it, even the basic stuff.

more generally... i don’t like writing sad endings? i don’t like helpless cases, and i don’t like irredeemable characters, though i know that’s subjective. i just don’t have the heart to bum myself out so badly (or anyone else, ha).

23) any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?

AAHA, oh my god where do i even start. :,D i’ll leave off some of the more unsightly stuff, but here’s a quick list of (not really that obscure) things i know too much about firsthand:

survivalist tactics

frenetic city living

band geek culture

working in an industrial kitchen at all hours

cross-fit

theatre nerd culture

cross country running

wrestling

...and there are always more. seriously, that first one includes shit like “how to survive in the snow in an emergency,” and “what does a rattlesnake taste like” and “what does the desert sound like in the middle of the night,” there’s just. a lot. there are a lot of little things, too...!

#ask #anonymous #asexualshepard #ask meme #I TALKED SO MUCH #i'm so sorry i hope this is... entertaining??? interesting????? #these are all really good questions aaaaa

[kaytewrites]

the quick release || masquerada: songs and shadows || chapter 2

also on ao3!

The next week passes like this:

Tristan wakes in the morning, generally to one of the Sorelle (most often Kalden) nudging him awake with a bowl of light, bland oatmeal. He eats as much of it as he can stomach (not a lot) and makes polite conversation as they check in with him (he’s making steady progress, they tell him, but he can’t leave quite yet) and tries to smother his stutter as best he can.

When they leave, he quietly summons his mascherine. Sometimes, he just looks at it, smoothing his hand over its surface and wondering: who were you? Did you ask for this? Will I ever speak to you properly?

Sometimes, though, he puts it on and thinks of ice, of water, of cold and time.

The first time he tries it, he damn near almost gives himself a heart attack with the panic that floods him, the memories of falling and ice and pain that make his missing limb spasm and ache without relief. Kalden finds him not an hour later, biting his lip bloody to keep from yelling and alerting anyone.

Kalden eases him down from his panic, guiding him to “Breathe, Tristan. Easy now. Breathe with me.” until he didn’t feel like the world was collapsing and his arm didn’t feel like it was being cut off all over again. Kalden looks at the mascherine on his face with a soft accusation, and warns him against using it until he feels better.

He keeps using it, simply because it’s the only thing that makes him feel like he’s at least doing something . He just makes sure he keeps quiet.

In the afternoons, he gets a visit from Vasco - never longer than an hour, but never shorter, either. Vasco doesn’t make him speak, but engages him in idle conversation. Whenever Tristan has a question or a response, Vasco makes him say it. It’s infuriating, but it’s an effective enough speech trainer. Sometimes, he’ll make him repeat himself, making Tristan irritable, but even he’s surprised by the progress he’s made in a week’s time.

One day, Vasco is an hour late for their meeting; they’ve never set a time, but Vasco always appeared around the same time everyday. Tristan sneaks a glance at the clock, confirming the thought.

So, Tristan holds his hand out in his lap, thinks about waves, and feels his mascherine settle in his palm. He’s always loved the thing, the bright red and silver lines edged in gold. He grips it tight, feels the material of it flex in his hand, and lifts it to his face -

- Ice, and cold, and fire, and he isn’t sure how the fire fits until he feels his arm burn white-hot-painful under the maskrunner’s steel, and his head is already fuzzy-hot with static and pain, but he can’t stop, he can’t stop, he’s falling to his knees but he needs to keep moving, Cicero needs him, the Citte needs him, the Citte-

“Tristan!”

There’s a hand on his shoulder, the one missing its arm, and he focuses on the weight, feeling his heartbeat in his throat.

“Tristan, can you hear me?” He’s shaking too hard to nod properly, but he thinks they understand because they don’t repeat the question. There’s a blur of purple movement on his right side, a smear that coalesces into a human form that eventually becomes Vasco. “Breathe, Tristan. Can’t have you dying on me now.”

He would laugh, if he didn’t feel like that is exactly what’s happening. He grips his left hand tight, hard enough his fingernails bite half-moon crescents into the skin of his palm.

“V-v-v-v-v-” He tries, but the words won’t come out right, and he can barely breathe as is.

“Don’t try to speak. Just breathe, Delzole. In and out, that’s it.” Vasco doesn’t touch him beyond the hand on his shoulder, and he doesn’t know whether to be grateful or to weep.

Eventually, the shuddering breaths subside, and Tristan lets his fist unclench, wincing at the blood that wells in each of the little cuts. Vasco tutts lightly, his hand moving from his shoulder to grab Tristan’s own. Regret fills him at the loss of contact, but he bites it back - the less he feels right now, the better. Vasco’s flautist’s fingers examine his palm carefully, clinically, grabbing a cloth from a drawer in the bedside table and wiping away the little red specks with a gentle hand.

“Now, what brought that on?” Vasco asks softly, his voice sounding a beat away from a laugh but no less genuine in its concern.

Tristan takes a moment to breathe again, and then another, and finally speaks. “T-the w-w-water is not always k-k-kind.” He can’t quite meet the other man’s eyes, and so he settles for watching his hands instead.

Vasco does laugh, a soft huff of a thing. “I suppose not, hm, Valencio? You’d know better than most.” He sees Vasco’s fingers twitch towards his mascherine, a half-aborted movement caught too late.

Tristan’s hand moves to his face, the mask that still rests there. “W-will I ev-v-ver u-use this ag-gain?” He pulls the mask from his face gently, stroking the red inlay with his thumb. His voice is far more sad than he’d like. He doesn’t want to give Vasco any more fuel for his backhanded comments and petty jabs.

Instead of responding, Vasco simply summons his own mascherine to bear, letting it rests in his hands. Purple and red play within golden borders, making swooping lines and deep impressions in the mask itself. It’s a playful mask, one suited to a man like Vasco, and it makes Tristan’s mouth sour with regret.

“I still don’t know her name,” he says. His voice is dangerously soft, filled with a vulnerability Tristan doesn’t think he deserves to hear, but Vasco keeps speaking. “I don’t know if I ever will. Maybe she doesn’t know it, either.” He looks up at Tristan, and Tristan finds his eyes inexorably drawn towards Vasco’s, as well. “Everything doesn’t become suddenly clear because we’ve Salted. It just means we have another set of memories in our heads. Incomplete, fallible, and just as human as the men who hold them.”

Vasco’s mouth cracks into a smile. “I know, surprisingly deep for a man of so many jests. Feel free to hold your applause.”

Tristan smiles despite himself, the panic in his chest almost forgotten. “N-not that surprising, Tessit-t-tore.”

“I’ll have you know I spend a lot of time cultivating my happy-go-lucky attitude, thank you, and I’ll not have you squander all that hard w-work.” He points threateningly at Tristan, but there’s no heat in his words.

Tristan laughs, bright and clear. He’s glad he hasn’t forgotten how to do that, at least. Vasco pouts for a few seconds longer before dismissing his mascherine with a smile. Tristan does the same, letting it fade to a shimmer in the air.

“I wonder where they go when we aren’t using them,” Vasco wonders aloud, and Tristan shrugs. “Do you think the fey would know?” Another shrug. “Gah, you’re useless.” And another.

Vasco finally gives up on trying to get Tristan to speak again. Honestly, he’s feeling exhausted by the whole ordeal. He already can’t sleep at night. He doesn’t want his nightmares chasing into his waking hours, and if that means never using his mascherine again - never using any mascherine again -

Well. He’ll handle that when the time comes.

Vasco flops backwards on the bed, laying horizontal on the foot of it, his feet still touching the ground. He’s more lax around Tristan than he’s ever been before, and Tristan can’t say he minds it.

“Have you spoken to Cicero about it?”

Tristan shakes his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

Tristan looks down at his hand again. “I d-d-don’t s-see him of-t-ten.” It’s easier to say than I don’t deserve to see him.

“If you asked for him, he’d come.”

Tristan shakes his head. “Don’t want t-to bo-bother him.”

Vasco sighs. “You’re both idiots, then.”

Tristan jabs Vasco in the side with his toes. He winces and glares up at Tristan. “I’m not wrong! Y-you’re both doing nothing but moping around. Very sad, really.”

Tristan just sighs. Vasco does the same.

He spends the rest of his time answering Vasco’s inane questions (”What’s your favorite color?” “B-blue.” “What’s your favorite drink?” “Lemonade.” “What’s your-”) before Vasco hops up from his reclined position and darts out of the door with barely a goodbye.

Tristan doesn’t have it in him to be mad. He’s already half-asleep, anyway. He stays awake long enough to drink a few spoonfuls of the broth the Sorelle nurse brings him for dinner before falling asleep. He dreams of a cathedral, impossibly large, and of a sea dark as night, filled with stars.

The next day he wakes, it’s to a hushed argument in low tones outside of his door. He wakes almost irritable at the intrusion, sure it’s far too early to be woken, but a glance at the clock on the wall tells him he’s actually slept in much later than he usually does. He rubs at his eyes and catches snippets of the conversation that drift through the door.

“-should talk to him, Cicero.” That’s Kalden’s warm rumble, barely perceptible through the door for its baritone depth.

“And say what? That I’m glad he almost died for me? That he’s another person who had to sacrifice himself for me, just so I could-”

“Cicero.”

“It’s true, Kalden, no matter what you say, alright? I don’t think - I don’t think he wants to see me, anyway.” Cicero sounds hurt when he says it, and Tristan is half a second away from calling out for him before Kalden speaks again.

“We’ve had this discussion a thousand times, Cicero, and I’ll always tell you the same thing: we followed you because you are worth following, Cicero. We could never leave you behind. We all knew what we were getting into.”

There’s a moment of silence then, and when Cicero speaks, his voice sounds muffled, as if pressed against cloth. “Thank you, Kalden. You’re too good for me.”

A chuckle. “You’re right, I am.”

Cicero’s voice sounds mock-hurt through the door. “You rude oaf! I ought to-”

He’s cut off suddenly. Kalden is the next to speak, and his voice sounds rougher, deeper, just barely audible through the door. “Doesn’t mean I won’t stay by your side.”

There’s an exchange of words he can’t hear, and then the click of the door. He’s just quick enough to pretend to still be waking, scrubbing at his eyes with his hand again and shoving himself upright.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” Cicero seems to barely hold back a laugh as he enters, Kalden just a step behind him. Cicero moves toward the chair on his left, almost unsure, before Tristan sighs and pats it with a grin. “How are you?” he says as he settles into it.

“Fine, I th-think.” Tristan shrugs. “Hav-ven’t died y-yet, so I m-m-must be doing someth-th-thing right.”

Kalden settles on the only other bed in the room, just behind and to the right of Cicero. “Good. You seem to be recovering steadily, as well. I think you’ll be back on your feet in no time. Maybe within the week, if all goes well.”

Tristan nods, pleased to hear it. His recovery from Salting has mostly been mental; most of the bedrest has been from being encased in ice for the better part of a month. He can feel his strength return in strides, though he’s not excited about the prospect of limping around like an invalid for a few months while he remembers how to walk again.

“Tristan…” Cicero starts, and there’s something in his voice that makes him think this conversation won’t be quite as easy as he was hoping. Still, he knew it was coming. It had to happen sooner or later.

“Y-yes, Cicero?” He does his best to sound fondly exasperated.

Cicero gives him a weak little half-smile, but it fades as he continues. “I don’t think we ever really talked about what happened, did we?”

Tristan remembers a quick, uncomfortable conversation made in the rush of impending battle, remembers setting aside his feelings about duty and honor to try and mend what he could between their broken trust, remembers hugging Cicero tightly with both arms and promising to have his back ‘just like old times.’ It was what they needed to get through the night, one neither of them thought they’d both truly survive.

Tristan sighs deeply, leaning against the pillows piled behind him. “N-n-not much to s-say, Cicero.”

“That’s a lie, Tristan, and we both know it.”

“Is it?” he counters. “We b-both know t-t-too much has happened. I don’t regret w-w-what I did. Neither should y-you.”

Cicero is silent for a long moment. “I wish it could be easier.”

Tristan grins. “N-nothing easy is ever w-w-worth it.”

He’s suddenly reminded of what Vasco told him a week before: ‘ He died. I wouldn’t joke about that. ’

Cicero must notice his change in demeanor, because it’s not but a few moments later that he’s asking, “What’s wrong, old friend?”

“Vasco t-told me s-something.” He doesn’t know a delicate way to say it, so he doesn’t try. “D-did you really die, Cicero?”

Cicero pales, and Tristan knows instantly it was the wrong thing to say. Kalden, instead, speaks for him. “He did, yes. We’re not sure why or how he’s back, but he is. We think it was fey.” He lists it off like a grocery list, and Tristan nods.

He also notices the way Cicero’s hand seemingly absently searches out Kalden’s own, and Kalden takes it without even looking down. He files that away as a question for another day - he’s already asked enough.

“G-guess that’s another t-thing we have in com-m-mon now, eh, Cicero?” He says, nudging him with his elbow. Cicero breaks out of his reverie and laughs a little, just once. Not perfect, but better.

“I suppose so.” He flashes Tristan a smile. “Well, I don’t want to keep you. I’m sure Vasco will be here soon, and he’ll probably yell at me again about interrupting ‘very important tutelage of the h-highest calibre.’”

Tristan nods. “And I’m sure the h-hero of Ombre has pl-plenty of duties to attend, hims-s-self.” He waves his hand at the door, shooing them out. “Go on, out of h-here.”

Cicero is laughing as he leaves, giving Tristan a wave. His other hand is still holding Kalden’s as he leaves.

Vasco shows up at his normal time an hour later, and if he notices that Tristan is more quiet than usual, he doesn’t comment on it.

#masquerada: songs and shadows #masquerada songs and shadows #masquerada #tristan delzole #vasco tessitore #the quick release #the quick release chapter 2