#masq shares

[masquayla-the-splendid]

It's weird being the decider of tricks and treats.

I'd normally prefer going by house, but my area is very stagnant for trick or treating. So trunk or treat it was.

2 kids thought I was a dinosaur, a number of them wanted hugs, another number of the same age group did not want near me, I scared a dog on accident, a few adults thought I was an actual animatronic until I had to adjust something. (The payoff of marching band.) Some kids offered high fives, which I thought was funny, considering, yknow.

The Cupcake is a bucket, and I put candy in there. So when someone came over, I'd open it up for them to take. However, I knew there'd be other chickens afoot, so I had an exotic butters basket alternative. The handle to the Cupcake eventually broke off, because I wasn't intending it to carry such weight originally.

This was like a test wear for later use at cons.

[estcaligo]

Now, take my hand, human! We’ll give them a magnificent dance in the center of the dance hall!

- the fact that this is his canon line

[foxyd101]

*slowly slides animation loop*

I animated my boi , masq home, for sillies (lowkey did this a while ago but forgot to post it XD)

UwU also smol sneak peeks for more masq au content

[fruitytoothysilveroni]

Silver has black coffee that’s blacker than Malleus’ entire wardrobe while Malleus has a ‘coffee’ drink that’s more ice cream than coffee and has enough whipped cream and syrup to kill a man.

[vaniccio]

i'm only fighting gods today (1/?) In which Genesis learns that the measure of a hero is not by who he defeats but by who he protects, and the Warrior of Light alters the course of another star by doing what they do best: inspiring hope in those around them—and hitting things really hard. (Post Endwalker, Pre-Crisis Core.)   Ao3 Link here. Image credit here.

"Attention, passengers: the train will be arriving shortly. Please mind the gap.” 

Mihren’s eyes blearily crack open. Yawning, she jostles as the train rolls to a halt and remains seated as others idly gather their belongings.

A moon ago the shrill of grating metal always sparked a headache. A moon ago everything sparked a headache, as though her mere presence here chafed against some fundamental law of existence. These days the noise felt akin to more of a dull buzz. 

‘So. What’s next for our humble adventurer?’ 

‘That’s simple. Something new, of course.’

Once the passenger car doors open, she adjusts the bag slung across her shoulder and shuffles out after the crowd. 

Of course the next leg of her adventure wouldn’t be something as simple as delving into long-lost ancient ruins or solving one of the fantastical mysteries Emet-Selch laid out prior to his dramatic departure. No, in true Warrior of Light fashion, she overshot that particular goalpost by malms. Though, in hindsight, perhaps she should’ve expected the Crystal Tower to act strangely after being put through so much. Especially now that G’raha no longer tended to it. 

At least she’d have another story to share when she got back—whenever that might be. This reflection felt so far removed from the Source that she’s not even sure she’s on another shard to begin with. Everything was strange. 

But as she steps onto the bustling platform and raises her hand to shield against the glare of the sun, she finds no apprehension about being in an unknown place. She’s never been one to turn down the promise of a new adventure. 

Midgar is huge. 

Midgar also smells. Stale, metallic, with a hint of something cloyingly sweet. It sticks to the roof of her mouth like Eulmorian toffee. 

She can’t help but wonder if the Garlean capital was like this. Before Zenos turned the city into a spawning ground for despair. Before the Tower of Babil blackened the sky with its spikes and horrific aura. Before—

—before a long, long list of ‘befores.’ 

The Shinra building isn’t as foreboding as the tower, doesn’t evoke the same gnawing dread, but neither is it particularly pleasing to look at. The engineers of this world didn’t appear to share the same appreciation for sleek and sharp edges that Garleans did. Architecture here subscribed heavily to the concept of ‘form follows function,’ and the function of the entire city revolved around spreading something she still can’t fully wrap her head around: mako. 

A substance responsible for powering everything in sight, flowing through gargantuan tubes. It feels like aether whenever she bothers to focus, but always just a step to the left that she hesitates to label it as such. Parts of the flow feel light and airy, while others are heavy and dense to a degree that has her wondering how it doesn’t crystallize in the pipes. At times she’s reminded of her foray into the aetherial sea and the branching paths within—and how the aether felt there—but unlike the Aitiascope, concentrating too much on the pipes weaving through the city here always leaves her feeling a touch dizzy. 

Some days she attributes mako to this world’s equivalent of ceruleum. On others she hesitates to do as much, since ceruleum never sent goosebumps prickling down her skin. 

“We’re not open yet. Please return in—oh, Mihr. Hey. You’re early.”

“You said you expected an influx of customers today,” Mihren says as she steps through the store’s entryway, mindful of the single raised step leading into the open-floor room. She elbows the door closed behind her. 

Sophie’s Potions and Tinctures is a quaint little store nestled on the corner of W 79th and N 77th Street, plate-side, Sector 5. As its namesake suggests, inventory includes potions, ethers, and other various bits and bobs. Its owner is a slip of a girl—thin and pale and far too young to be on her own—but with a backbone of steel and an unwavering drive to help. 

A sigh comes from the counter followed by the sound of the register dinging. “For plate construction injuries, yes. They’re resuming work today.”

“So soon?”

“Further delays are ‘unacceptable’, as I hear it.”

Mihren shrugs off her jacket and hangs it on the wall. “And the people working on it had nothing to say on the matter?”

Sophie offers a tight-lipped, knowing smile. “Do you have your cure materia with you?”

“You know you needn’t ask me that each time.” 

“Do you?” 

Mihren holds up her arm. A simple silver bracelet dangles from her wrist, socketed with a swirling green orb. She gives it a little jingle for emphasis. 

“Good. Thank you." Sophie's shoulders drop. "I expect to run out of stock today. Any extra bit of healing we can offer will go a long way."

“I brought more materials that may be of help.”  

“More oddities?” 

Mihren swings the bag off her shoulder and onto the work table. Bottles clink together as she nudges them aside. “I’ll turn them into all sorts of wonderful tinctures. Have some faith.”

“So long as they’re restorative and not afflictive,” Sophie says dryly, crossing her arms. “And don’t explode. Again.”

“You can’t figure out what sorts of secrets these things hold just by looking at them. And I cleaned it all up last time, didn’t I?”

“After scaring the owners of the shops across the street. I think they have a public security team watching me now.” 

Mihren gives her a droll look. “The same public security team that buys your potions and salves?” 

Sophie offers another thin-lipped smile and returns to organizing the check-out counter. Mihren feels her good mood fade as she organizes her own work station, separating the drake wings from bat fangs and other potential alchemic bits she scrounged up. 

It still doesn’t sit right, watching Sophie fidget and send nervous looks towards the door at the mention of what should be the city’s law enforcement. The injustice of it simmers low in her chest. She carefully shoves the disquiet into a neat little box alongside all the other things that rub her wrong about this city. The list grew day by day and despite the urge to do something—biding time and gathering information is Thancred’s forte, not hers—she forces herself to be patient. There are no Scions here to watch her back. No city-states supporting her, no connections to draw upon. The only authority she has is her own. 

Even so, she can hear Alisaie’s encouraging words: So what if you’re to stand alone? When has that ever stopped us? Stopped you?

Alphinaud’s voice, in contrast, is one of reason: Don’t be rash. Consider the situation prior to enacting a plan.

Gods, she misses the twins. 

“I’ll be careful,” she finally says with a sigh. “No explosions. And even if public security comes around I’ll make sure they don’t bother you.”

Sophie snorts. Her fingers tap away at the store counter. “You’ll what, fend them off with your cure materia?” 

“Sure."

“That you used against monsters below the plate.”

“You know how the phrase goes: kill them with kindness.”  

Sophie huffs out a curt laugh at that. “I still can’t get over how weird you are.”

Mihren’s lips quirk up as she kneels to rifle through the cabinet below the desk. “You’re the one who gave me this job.”

When she mulls over it, meeting Sophie simply made sense. Peculiar greetings and circumstances aside, they got along like a house on fire. In a classic case of ‘good intentions gone wrong,’ Sophie had gone down to the slums after hearing about an accident, took all the wrong turns, and ending up surrounded by monsters. Mihren, disoriented after once again being deposited head-first in some strange land, disposed of the creatures before she even managed to figure which way was up and which was down. 

Regardless. Like attracts like, and it is no small wonder that she ended up here despite the sheer size of the city.  

She clicks her tongue. “But you’ll be happy to know that with what you have here at the shop, I can churn out maybe two dozen or so potions. They’ll be a hint different than what people are used to—mostly the taste, I reckon—but the effect should be the same.” 

She learned many suns ago that the limiting agent here is always flora. Finding lavender or chamomile or any sort of herb worth including was like trying to sieve for gold. Even mistletoes are a rarity on account that there are no trees in Midgar—a fact so absurd she still struggles to believe it. Even Garlemald with all its steelwork and machinery had trees and weeds. 

Sophie strolls over to cast a curious glance over the spread of items on the table. “My mum collected books from near everywhere but they don’t mention any recipes like this. I still don’t understand how you know what to mix.”

Mihren sparks a fire under an alembic. “You said it yourself—” she waves her hand to disperse the faint wisps of smoke, “—I’m weird.” 

The day passes in a blur. Sophie’s potions fly off the shelves faster than expected and Mihren finds herself healing sprains and aches and a variety of construction-related injuries.

The work is mundane. She feels like a fledgling conjurer. 

It makes Sophie happy however, and despite the monotony, Mihren slips into the rhythm of it without complaint. White magic is meant to soothe—even when she carefully avoids channeling her aether through the materia glimmering on her wrist. 

Contrary to the name, it is unlike any materia she’s ever come across. Nor is the little marble a soul crystal. It feels far too cold, far too rigid when she prods at it. The soul crystals in her pockets sit warm with the memories of past practitioners and ripe with their experiences. Full of lessons intended to be passed onto future generations—to inspire others to build upon what already exists. 

These things in comparison? Limiters. The last time she tried to etch her knowledge into the small gem it nearly shattered in her face. 

What’s worse, is that each time she tries to use it, the blasted thing molds her aether into something else entirely. Like a blacksmith pouring molten iron into an impression it squeezes her fluid cure spell into an altered, stiffer version. She’d tried casting on herself once and felt like she’d been smacked in the face with a wet towel. The effects of it were still restorative, sure, but the spell had about as much bedside manner as Estinien. 

She refuses to use the gem.

Still, she keeps it on her wrist. People here got weird when she didn’t. 

The rest of the week passes in much of the same fashion. Having the time to be idle like this—having the leisure to take in everything day by day without crisis after crisis looming on the horizon—is odd. Welcome, but odd. She figures this is what her life would’ve been like had she stayed in Ul’dah. If she’d followed her mother’s wishes and became a businesswoman on the Sapphire Exchange instead of spending her days at The Quicksand. If she’d decided to run a shop, full-time.

Would someone else have taken up the mantle of Warrior of Light in her stead? 

“Mihr?”

She blinks the room back into focus. Sophie stares back at her with a markedly unimpressed look, hands on her hips behind the register. 

“What?”

“Your… whatever that is, is bubbling. Again.”

The shop’s bell dings as Mihren flies off her seat and sprints to the work table. Of course there’d be customers now. She curses under her breath and sweeps a hand over the alembic to freeze the entire damn thing. 

“—I’m tellin’ you, man! The stuff here works better than the standard stuff we’re given.” 

“Does it?”

“Yep. SOLDIER’s honor. Look at all these!”

She spares a glance over her shoulder at the figures lingering by the door. Two men, dressed in uniform. One with a dark knight’s greatsword strapped to his back, the other with a sword strapped to his waist. Not Sophie’s usual brand of customers, but even with one look she can tell they're from Shinra. Adventurers don’t wear matching uniforms like that—she’s not sure Midgar even has those—and everything about the two oozes military. There’s none of the haughtiness that she’s used to seeing on Garlean soldiers, however, so she leaves them be. 

Their conversation drones out as she refocuses on the mess before her.

She crosses her arms and eyes it with distaste. It’d be difficult to salvage any materials. Crystallized liquid and broken glass pieces jut out of the alembic she was using in a frozen fractal burst, and good thing she’d iced it then and there. Had the reaction progressed any further, Sophie would’ve talked her head off.

Sophie would’ve—

Mihren blinks.

Sophie wasn’t going through her usual sales pitch. 

With another curious glance over her shoulder, she finds Sophie standing rigid-straight behind the register, staring at the two Shinra officers in the potions isle as though she’d been struck with levin. Mihren’s gaze sharpens at once.

“Look, they’ve even got antidotes and ethers.”

“Shinra also provides both,” comes the dry response.

“Yeah, but didn’t you hear me? This stuff’s got a kick. Last time I drank one it—"

They don’t appear hostile. The taller one keeps glancing at Sophie as though the odd behavior has also snagged his attention, but is otherwise content with leaving it be. The younger one seems entirely preoccupied with the glimmering bottles on the racks. He raises one up to catch the light and grins when the colors swirl. 

Mihren catches Sophie’s eye and subtly nods at the door leading into the back of the store. Sophie offers a single relieved look before ducking out. 

Mihren turns on her heel, tugs off her alchemical gloves, and chucks them behind her. “Are you two looking for anything in specific?”

“Oh, hey! You guys got any more of those potions I bought last week?” 

“Zack—”

“We’re out of stock today. Apologies.” She doesn’t recognize the boy. If he’d been around last week then Sophie must’ve seen him. She’d said nothing about the encounter, though, so her reaction at the sight of them doesn’t make sense. 

The taller man’s gaze flicks past Mihren's shoulder. “Does that happen often?”

Droplets faintly drip on the floor behind her. She sniffs, a hint irritated that a puddle's formed already. She’d cast the spell with a bit more strength than that, hadn't she? “Two components didn’t play as nicely as I thought they would.”

“Do they often not?” 

She arches a brow, crosses her arms, and rests a hip against the counter. “Unexpected reactions are a hazard of the craft. You can’t make an omelet without cracking a few dodo eggs.” 

That earns her a stare from both the men. 

She wonders if she'd said something odd again.

He holds her gaze before casting a critical glance at the wall behind the register. Some of Sophie’s alchemic paraphernalia hangs on display, surrounded by a handful of other papers with Shinra’s logo stamped on them. Licensing permits—a whole series of them. The sight seems to mollify him.

“Angeal, c’mon. Accidents happen.” 

Probing eyes linger on the frozen mess behind her a second longer, then briefly flicker to the materia on her wrist, before sweeping back towards Zack. Mihren practically feels the moment his attention slides off her.

“We’ll have more potions in stock soon," she says. "Once I clean this up I can get started on another batch but it’ll take time for the ingredients to meld and settle. Come back in a bell.”

“In a bell?” Zack echoes. 

“An—” Gods, she keeps doing that. “—hour. Maybe two.” 

He frowns and shifts to one foot. “I don’t know if we have that time to spare.”

“We don’t,” Angeal says firmly, already turning towards the exit. “This was your one stop, remember?” 

“Aw, man…” 

“Would any other restorative items be of use? Tinctures? Infusions?” 

Zack perks up. “Infusions?” 

Angeal, undeterred, corrals him towards the door. “No, thank you,” he tells her over his shoulder—over Zack’s sounds of complaint. “We must be on our way. Have a good day.” 

Mihren idly waves them goodbye. It feels like she’d just been slapped with the label of, ‘eccentric, avoid when possible,’ with that painfully polite dismissal. 

The bell above the door dings with their departure, and she waits until she can’t hear Zack’s voice from the street before turning on her heel. She finds Sophie sitting on the steps behind the store, elbows resting on her knees, shoulders hunched, staring at nothing in particular. Mihren spares a glance down the alley before settling down beside her.

“You all right?” 

“…yeah. I’m good.” 

“Did you know them?”

“They’re SOLDIERs,” Sophie mumbles as though that’s all the explanation needed. “I don’t like them.” 

Mihren’s heard the term a handful of times now. Related to Shinra—as most things here are—and clearly something to do with their military. “They sound like they’re important.”

Sophie's expression goes flat. “You really don’t know who that was, do you?”

“Should I?”

Sophie huffs, shaking her head, but the absurdity of Mihren’s ignorance seems to pull her away from whatever triggered the despondence. “That was Angeal Hewley. He’s a first class SOLDIER.”

Mihren nods sagely. “Important, as I said.”

“Very important,” Sophie repeats dryly. “All of the first class SOLDIERs are. Sephiroth and Genesis, too.” 

Sephi—what? “Sephirot?”

“Sephiroth,” Sophie corrects, toeing a discarded bottle by her feet. “Haven’t you seen him in the ads and billboards? His face is everywhere. You’d have to be living under a rock to miss that.”

Mihren tries to imagine a Meracydian primal hiding somewhere within the confines of the Shinra building. It doesn’t click. The place looks big enough to hide a primal, sure, but its tempering effects would be apparent. 

Humming, she chalks the name as something else to add to the list of odd similarities between this world and the one she knows. "Well, SOLDIER or not, they've left. And with that little display on my work station, I'm not sure if they'll be back."

"I told you no more explosions," Sophie snorts, but straightens out and dusts herself off. "But good. Here's hoping they don't stop by again."

Nights in Midgar remind her of nights in the Crystarium, back when the everlasting light loomed endless above the city, blinding and radiant. It was hard to get a good night’s sleep then; she needed to be thoroughly exhausted to ignore the light trying to pierce her eyes and muffle out the high-pitched ringing in the sky. 

Nights in Midgar oftentimes feel the same. The noise is easy enough to ignore during the day, but some nights it crescendos to a high enough pitch that it becomes impossible to ignore. It rings and rings and rings—

She yanks the covers off the couch. Irritated, she strides across the room—mindful of Sophie asleep next door—and throws the living room window open before swinging out onto the connecting fire escape and taking two steps at once all the way up to the roof.

There had to be a reason for the ringing. Surely others couldn’t sleep like this? But—no. A glance from the rooftop tells her nothing is wrong. Save for the hum of the street lamps and occasional passing car below, there are no lights on in other homes. The district is asleep. 

Did no one else hear the noise? 

Scowling, she leans both elbows against the railing, hangs her head, and closes her eyes. She’d get to the bottom of this. Tonight. Or she wouldn’t get a wink of sleep. 

Her attention drifts towards her feet. Then down, lingering along the wet roads, before plunging further still. There must be one of the giant pipes somewhere in the steelwork below. A faint throb starts behind her temples as she focuses and zeroes in on the flow of—aether? 

“Too thin for aether,” she mumbles, frowning and hunching inwards, eyes still closed. 

Mako. All of it is mako, she reminds herself. Mako is the fluid powering the city. Aether can certainly be water-aspected, but mako felt more something. An unknown quality she’s yet to put her finger on. 

She reaches up to rub the space between her brows in consternation. The dull ringing seems to extend even further below, but the longer she lingers on it, the more it morphs into sounding like it is echoing from everywhere—as though it is steadily filling the air around her, much like the presence of an elemental. 

There’s more variation in the flow of mako tonight, too. The same fluctuations she’s felt several times before. Changes in pressure, perhaps? In volume? Could the density change depending on the time of day?

Sighing, she hangs her head again and breathes in the crisp night air. As usual, she’s managed to get more questions than answers. She should’ve expected as much. 

Can you hear me? 

Her eyes snap open. A violent chill goes down her spine, sparking goosebumps all across her skin. 

Impossible. 

She hurls her focus back towards the pipes—

And hears nothing.

The wisp of the presence she’d just felt is gone, replaced by an almost aggressive flow of mako. She strains to listen for it again and again, and succeeds in only giving herself a throbbing headache.

[0-n-1-x]

Hello there, hope you don't mind this :3. I was thinking of a fluff scenario abt male reader (if you write for it and if not gn it's ok too) and kirishima/or bakugo post war. Idk maybe they get together and spend aome quality time with eachother like going out or tending to the other's injuries or rven studying together.

It can be anything, have a good day/night!!

Post War!Bakugo x Post War!reader

Hi!!!! I am so happy to see a mha req in my inbox!! To be 100% I have not watched up to that part in mha (I am very far behind) so I am going loosely based off what I know and a bit of research, esp bc I usually write all my fanfics as off-canon. To add I also am not a man or masq so if anything is incorrect or weird my apologies!! Hope you enjoy <333

link to my masterlist <33

After the war, both you and Bakugo have your share of injuries, physical and emotional. You find comfort in each other’s presence, often sitting together in silence, tending to each other’s wounds. Bakugo is surprisingly gentle when he’s wrapping your bandages, his usual rough demeanor softened by the need to make sure you’re okay.

I think that you would start your mornings together with a quiet routine. Bakugo wakes up early, but instead of rushing into his usual intense workouts, he stays in bed a little longer, holding you close. You both find peace in these moments, knowing you’ve earned this quiet.

“Morning, Kats,” you whisper, earning a low grumble in response. He cracks one eye open, meeting your gaze with a lazy smirk.

"Morning, dumbass,” he replies, his voice still husky from sleep and muffled from the pillow his face was shoved in. He doesn’t move, though, seemingly content to stay in bed a little longer with you.

Bakugo isn't one for fancy dinner dates, (he's still in highschool guys) and insists on cooking for you, and sometimes you join him in the kitchen. It becomes a fun, shared activity, with you trying to keep up with his culinary skills that he learned from his mom through their arguing. He’s serious about his cooking, but he can’t help but smirk when you make a mess, teasing you before helping clean up.

Even though the war is over, there’s still work to be done as scholars, and that includes studying. You both set up at the table, textbooks and notes spread out. Bakugo is surprisingly patient when helping you with difficult concepts, he's much smarter academically than he is socially and you enjoy these quiet study sessions, appreciating the 'normalcy' they bring.

There are nights when the nightmares come, and you’re both there to comfort each other. Bakugo isn’t always the best with words, but he’s good at grounding you, holding you tight and reminding you that you’re both safe now. You do the same for him, knowing he needs the reassurance as much as you do.

[awearywritersworld]

Masq is so wholesome and fluffy but there’s always this underlying angst that Sukuna can’t *really* be with reader. It’s not his body, it’s not under his control, and he looks like another man to her. And the man he happens to look like is the man she loves before him. Sukuna can’t hold her whenever he wants, he can’t just enjoy being with her, as himself like Yuji can. He loves her so much but she is herself, while he is doomed with an incomplete self/soul at the whims of his host, and she loves him without even knowing what he looks like (like miwa and mechamaru)😭 yuuji doesn’t mind sharing her and he’s a champ for that but Sukuna literally doesn’t have a choice but to take what little he can get and be thankful for it and I have so many feelings I want to cradle him AUUGHHHH

nonnie i don't really have much to add other than

it's a heartbreaking sentiment, and you've put it so concisely and poetically. i think im off to finally start the last chapter so that i can give sukuna some of the fluff he so rightly deserves

[twstgameplay]

Hi again, Mods! I previously asked for your help in passing Book 6 battles and you all have been an immense help in getting through ch 66!! ❤️

I’d like to ask, once more, with some updated cards if this is a good team set for chapter 67:

Tower 1

Beans Vil

Dorm Rook

Robes Epel

BDay Deuce

Beans Floyd

(I’m debating switching Deuce out with Platinum Jacket Grim)

Tower 2

Dorm Leona

Chef Jamil

Dorm Trey

Robes Jack

HW Cater

(I recently got Masque Jamil, would he be a better card option?)

Tower 3

Tsum Riddle

Dorm Azul

GM Ace

Lab Lilia

Lab Sebek

(For ch 66, the last two cards were Dorm Jade & Lab Ruggie. I wanted to switch them out with Lab Lilia & Sebek this time)

Card, spell, and buddy levels aren’t too big of a thing for me as I can raise them without much issue and I’ve read the guides to know what levels they’ll need to be at, but for the cards themselves and their potential, would this be a good team set?

Thank you so much for all your hard work!! I’m super grateful and share your blog every time someone mentions struggling with the battles! ❤️

(My card list is under the cut. I have so many, I’m a little embarrassed 😅)

———

The teams are already good and won't have an issues with clearing the tower. There is more detail under the cut.

~ 👑

Tower 1

I would keep Bday Deuce for this team. The tower has a decent number of neutral spells and having more duos will help.

Tower 2

Chef or Masq Jamil will work. I would use the one you have already raised rather than raise a brand new card. Dorm Leona will be doing most of the damage for this team. I would advise that you raise their card levels higher for more HP if you have to stall for Leona to have his spells again.

Tower 3

Dorm Azul and GM Azul will be doing most of the damage for this team. Switching out the last 2 characters will not make any major difference if they have high spell levels.

[competitivelyracist]

MY URL IS A JOKE

My main blog -> @leechiourdes Hi, my name is Leech (or Anatoly), I like to talk about countryhumans. My headcanons are very irregular to say the least and differ a lot from the greater fan community, so I wanted to document all of them using this blog as a sort of headcanon archive, because the idea sounded fun and was very cute. My headcanons encompass two AUs, however this list may expand as more AUs are created:

1.) The Main AU / Primary AU In this AU, the countryhumans are very tightly kept government secrets and the public is unaware of their existences. They have multiple fake identities, they move around often to avoid being noticed by neighbors or friends, and in general the only things constant in their lives are eachother and their jobs.

2.) The Broken Masquerade AU (or just Broken Masq.) This is sort of an alt-history spinning off of the Primary AU. In this universe, the countryhumans are known by the public and are a very normal part of daily life. They have been normalized in the consciousnesses of the people, and are just more public figures that they like to follow or worry about.

There is a lot more to these two AUs and how countryhumans in my headcanons work in general, but I will be sharing those in different posts. If you're interested, please follow and show support. Thank you very much!

[the-iron-orchid]

The one time y’all will get the chance to see both Heron and Jinana ruining somebody at the same time, and it’s gonna be Valerius lmao

[shunsellon]

runoalice that sounds interesting do you have a reason(s) for shipping them

thank you for the free opportunity to talk about the best s1 ship besides drago and wavern <3

runo and alice are generally together for most of season 1. alice flies to tokyo and lives with the misakis, they both work at the cafe together, etc. they're shown multiple times to care for each other a lot, especially on runo's end when alice collapses or disappears.

despite what bakugan wikia wants you to think, it's runo who's most affected by the reveal of alice as masquerade and not shun. she's the one who runs to alice before she leaves, the one who has a montage of looking into the sky asking where alice is, and she's the one who runs to alice when they meet again in vestroia. both of them are crying when they hug, by the way.

another fun fact is that in episode 39, it's runo and alice who share the intermission screens. not dan, who masquerade battled the episode before, or shun, who the wikia wants to brainwash you into thinking she's got something going on with. that's because if anyone's closest to alice, it's runo. and runo's the one who screams into the sky for alice to come back.

episode 25 also shows progression in their friendship. runo suspects alice to be the spy, which she is lmao, but alice doesn't know that so she denies it and proves herself by helping runo and dan in battle, showing her importance to the group even if she was a non-brawler at the time. runo thanks her and they have a little moment together <3

also here comes mine and marukrawler's "runo should mc" propaganda lmao: with alice/masquerade as the villain, it would be interesting, to say the least, if runo would be mc instead of dan.

the obvious is there - runo is haos and alice/masq is darkus. they're the real opposites, especially when put next to the way wyvern is associated with haos and naga with darkus. but dan's mc, so pyrus is the one opposite darkus on the attribute wheel when it makes more sense for pyrus to oppose ventus. runo is also the first person who masquerade goes after. make masquerade's final battle, a tag battle with dan, be with runo instead. it comes perfect circle. hashtag make runo mc 2k22

tl;dr they have the most canon stuff to them and i love it. wikia spreads shunalice propaganda when the real romance is runoalice. we should yeet dan into orbit.

[masquayla-the-splendid]

Paranormal Powerhouse update #♧

"Just starting" is what this clip was for, btw

[marukrawler]

joe the type of mf to ask to see masq's face for funsies and masq is like ok and shows him

and then joe will go "wow! thanks for showing me :)" and go home and never share this w anyone

[foxyd101]

*slides drawing* sorry for starving you all on my Masquerade au. So here's some masq home drawings and a little bit on masq Wally :3

(Something funny is that a fellow mod said that he gives off father vibes, and my response was "wait would that make home a dilf?" And we all died laughing. So home is a dilf now/j)

[turtleskele]

So I thought I’d give some Mafia Skeleton Characters a try-mostly for my own amusement. But if anyone wants to ask questions about them my ask box is open: Disclaimer I do not own any Undertale characters:

Mafiatale Sans: Faux (likes it pronounced as Fox rather than Foe, for reasons)

Much like Undertale Sans, Faux is very laid back in personality and it takes a lot to rile him up (or even to do anything really: aka a lazy bones). He loves telling puns and corny jokes, much to the annoyance of Wolf. But like his name suggests, do not let his permanent smile fool you. Just like how his name is pronounced “Fox”, Faux is very sly, cunning, and always one step ahead of everyone. And just like the literal meaning of “Faux” (foe), his smile is anything but genuine. Because of his line of work Faux has a hard time trusting anyone and despite his laidback persona, is riddled with anxieties and paranoias that keep him up at night. He is always tired and can be found napping almost anywhere. Because of this basis of fear and distrust, Faux is rarely able to actually feel any emotion, except for his brother Wolf which is about the only person he does trust. He’s dated multiple people but most of them end after a couple of dates and leave him in a self induced drunken stupor. When he finally does come across his S/O, they are the first person that is able to see behind his front and actually make him feel. They lead him to begin to open up- a little bit at a time and learn to trust people again.

Mafiatale Papyrus: Wolf

Just like Undertale Papyrus, Wolf has a very genial personality. He has high moral standards despite being in the mafia and hates to see innocents hurt. He loves to cook but like the OG; his cooking leaves something to be desired (meaning it’s only somewhat edible). But as his name suggests; do not underestimate him. Despite his kind tendencies and seeming naïveté, he has a very cunning and tactical mind. He ALWAYS knows what’s going on and knows how to play a scene to his benefit. This includes the ability to manipulate feelings effortlessly. He is very comfortable with who he is and knows how many people look up too and think he is very cool and he flaunts it~ Cue a string of admirers and causal relationships. When he finally does meet his s/o he is surprised to find out that they can see straight through his facade and confronts him about it. They end up being the catalyst for him to be his true self.

Mafiafell Sans: Pierce

This Sans was given his name for his “finishing” bone attack during “disputes”. But he also likes to think that it refers to his ability to make anyone fall in love with him. Pierce is a smooth talker and very flirtatious. His tactics have been known to make people swoon. Just like Cupid he’s able to ‘pierce’ their hearts. He loves to joke around make people laugh with his bad puns, corny jokes, and pickup lines (which DO work 98% of the time). But despite all his success, he hasn’t found anything or anyone who’s willing to go beyond a week with him or who isn’t intimidated by his job. Because of having grown up on the streets Pierce’s biggest fear is losing everything he’s gained, or having it taken from him.This has given him a bit of a complex. Those he has dated before, describe him as being possessive, clingy, and very controlling. If Pierce does not have control he falls into fits of anxiety that he expresses through explosive bouts of anger. He reacts on a whim until he feels safe or until the threat to his control has been “taken care of”. It is during one of these bouts that Pierce meets his S/O who was unfortunately involved. He is impressed by how they are able to handle and calm him helping him refocus his anger. As they grow closer his S/O begins to help him loosen his grip a bit-though it is a long process in the making. They are unwilling to bend when it comes to his anger and help him to learn different ways of expressing his anxiety when plans go south. Pierce learns that letting someone else have control doesn’t mean they will take away from him but rather add something more.

Mafiafell Papyrus: Merlot (mer-low)

Just like Underfell Papyrus, Merlot has a very surly personality which scares most and intimidates the rest. Out of all the mafia skeletons (excepting Cabernet), Merlot is the most elegant and refined, taking pride in his appearance; three piece suits, leather shoes- all specially made. He loves to cook (almost more than Wolf) with a preference towards Italian and Asian cuisine and has taken every avenue to ensure that his cooking is impeccable- I.e: His cooking is edible and actually tastes very good. Though being in the mafia has hardened him and toughened his bones, the truth is Merlot still has a very soft heart; though he’ll never admit it and will act like he doesn’t care. He has a deep longing to be able to share with someone who would reciprocate his feelings back; thus he has had a wide variety of relationships in search of this. Sadly he has found that most were only trying to benefit from his status or were merely too intimidated by him to refuse him. This has left him calloused and hardened. When he finally( and literally) bumps into his S/O he is astonished to find how open and up front they are in expressing their emotions-good and bad. They encourage and slowly help him to be open and share with them as well; finally finding the connection he has longed for.

Mafiaswap Sans: Masquerade (Masq for short)

Much like Wolf, Masquerade has a very genial and high spirited personality. He loves cooking but again it leaves something to be desired. Like Wolf he loves to flaunt his inherent coolness and strives to impress everyone he meets. But as his name suggests and much like his Tale counterpart Faux, Masq is not as he seems. In his striving to be perfect and make everyone love him, he has lost his ability to truly connect with anyone. Much like Faux, his permanent smile is never truly one of happiness despite what he wants others to think. Because he seeks to uphold his seeming perfection, he falls into cycles of anxiety, extreme stress, and finally depression when he messes up or fails. He tends to overthink and beat himself up over small details and has been known to act upon instinct during “business endeavors” if things do not go according to plan, which he regrets later. Though he is no stranger to the dating scene many of his past partners described him as clingy and smothering and were unwilling to find out the reason behind it. When he meets his s/o for the first time, in the midst of one of his “episodes”, he is floored by their calm demeanor and ability to talk him off the cliff. As their relationship grows they help him to embrace his imperfections and to simply let go. He begins to learn about the importance of self care what it truly means to connect with people.

Mafiaswap Papyrus: Pokerface (Poke for short)

Much like Underswap Papyrus, Pokerface (Poke) has a very laidback and nonchalant personality. His go with the flow attitude and tendency to procrastinate is a source of frustration and irritation for his brother Masq, who tends to call him a lazy bones. He loves to crack jokes and puns much to the chagrin of his brother. But despite the persona he shows, many leave an interaction with Poke knowing next to nothing about him. He is very good at keeping his true emotions and thoughts to himself and has been described as very distant and standoffish. Unlike most of the other mafia skeletons, Poke is one of the only ones not actively looking for a relationship. Because of his past and his years in the mafia, he has learned to keep to himself and focus only on what matters: doing his job and keeping his brother safe. He is not a risk taker and likes to keep things simple. A partner would only confuse things and just get hurt because of him. But what happens when he finally meets someone he would gladly take a risk for? An S/O that makes him want to open up-even just a little bit?

Mafiafellswap Sans: Cabernet (Caber for short)

Cabernet (Caber) shares a striking likeness with his namesake wine. He is durable and thick “skinned”, able to weather anything that is thrown at him. He is relentless despite the elements around him and like a stone, is immovable, unflappable, and seemingly unfeeling. Because of this inherent tenacity, his territory is the furthest reaching and deeply staked out of all of the skeleton mafias. Much like Merlot, he deeply enjoys cooking and also has taken tremendous efforts to make sure his cooking is flawless. He enjoys Latino and Mediterranean cuisine and is always looking for new dishes to try. He is the pinnacle of high fashion (seconded only by Merlot), and ensures that he has an endless supply of new and expensive clothes at his disposal-all monogrammed and all specially made for him. Much like Merlot, Caber, when he is comfortable and has built up trust, can be charming, sweet, and very soft. Despite the rumors spread about him, he is very sensitive to the plight of others, and often has been known to let witnesses go as long as they don’t speak a word about what they saw (with minor intimidation for good measure). He too longs to be able to find someone he can connect with, but years of being the head of the mafia and several failed attempts at relationships have left him hardened and unlike Merlot make him come off as cold and unfeeling. When he finally sees his S/O for the first time, he is instantly attracted to their vulnerability, but not for the reason most would think. He admires and cherishes the way his S/O can so clearly express what they are feeling and how it sparks positive feelings in his own soul. Slowly as they grow to know each other, they work to help him soften his stony heart.

Mafiafellswap Papyrus: Shadow

Just like fellswap papyrus who shares many traits with swap papyrus and fell Sans, Shadow shares many traits and behaviors with Pierce and Poke. He loves corny jokes and bad puns and will most likely be the only one laughing his ass off if you tell one. He is flirtatious as well but mostly on the down-low. Much like Poke, he likes to keep to himself and is the quietest out of all of the mafia skeletons. He has a very laidback personality, but many leave interactions with him feeling somewhat on edge. Almost as if he is surrounded by a cloud of anxiety. He received his namesake from his brother Caber because of his ability to stalk and follow people without being noticed. But many believe that it has a second meaning that is left unsaid between the two: that he will always live in Caber’s shadow. Because of the pressure to do better from his brother and the uneasy and untrusting nature of his job, Shadow deals with a lot of anxiety and depression. He is a perfectionist, but if he is unable to get it right, would rather not try at all or puts off doing it until he is forced to. He has a lot of self hate and self depreciates often. He doesn’t believe anyone understands him or would want to put up with him. Like Poke, he is not actively looking for a partner; his job and world are dangerous and a partner would complicate things. He also believes he is not good enough for a partner-that he would never be able to fulfill their needs or ever be good enough for them. He doesn’t necessarily meet his S/O, rather he encounters them when he’s on a job. They are trying to comfort a monster child who has gotten lost and by the end of the conversation even Shadow feels uplifted. This is a very rare feeling for the quiet skeleton so he follows them to see more and begins to feel...calm. Maybe someday they’ll uplift him in person~

[awearywritersworld]

The phrase ‘sakuna matata’ popped into my head just now as I was reading some of your shorter ‘masq’ pieces, and now I’m just thinking of reader quietly mumbling it in toon to themselves while hanging out with sukuna and unintentionally driving him nuts (and then doing it intentionally, and louder, after he says it’s annoying)

PS. LOVE your writing 💕 always the highlight of my day :) I look forward to seeing what comes next (when you’re ready to share) 💕

oh my goooooddddd ur so right this would drive him up a wall nonnie!! he's tryin to keep his cool bc he can tell u don't even realize you're doing it, but eventually he breaks. "that's not even my name, brat!"

and ofc the attitude earns him hell for the rest of the night bc u won't stop humming it now. "maybe you should have asked nicely."

i'll say it once, i'll say it again. i love annoying him sm<3333 thank you kindly for your sweet words nonnie!!! they are much appreciated!!!<3333