#I love marx soul's design

[sillyclowny]

cw: eyestrain/bright colors

trying this style of drawing, pretty fun tbh

[spheredotorb]

incomprehensible doodle page (first shot at gijinka) bone apple teeth

[icedragonlizard]

Headcanons for certain Magoland masks

I'm aware that Merry Magoland is not 100% canon, but screw it. I implement it and its masks into my headcanon universe anyways.

... And at that point, it begs the question as to how Magolor knew about certain people to be capable of making masks out of them.

Of course, one could easily interpret Magolor just traveling across dimensions and through the timeline to find out himself, but I prefer to go with a more fun route for my interpretation instead.

I'm more than glad to share my headcanons for certain masks:

-The blue, green and yellow Kirbies were literally just Magolor giving more color palettes for Kirby because he thinks Kirby is very special and decided to give him utmost privileges. Lol.

-How did Magolor find out about Nightmare? Here's how: King Dedede has a photo of Nightmare somewhere in his castle. It's there to spread awareness to one of Popstar's earliest threats, and it's also there for the waddle dees in the castle to make fun of. Magolor encountered the photo when he came by Dedede's castle one time.

-"Gray Coo" was the result of Magolor trying to create a fake love interest for Coo to go along with Rick's and Kine's love interests. Magolor was originally going to call it "Poo" until the waddle dee staffers for the park turned that down and instead suggested it to be named "Gray Coo" or else they wouldn't put it up, which Magolor reluctantly agreed. Coo felt embarrassed and awkward when he saw the mask and was told about its purpose, while the rest of the animal friends laughed their butts off as they think that the mask is hilarious.

-How did Magolor find out about Dark Matter to make masks for Dark Matter Swordsman and Zero? Dedede and the animal friends told him about it. When Magolor first met Gooey and learned his origins, he was fascinated to learn more about Dark Matter, so those guys told him more. Dedede has a photo of DMS in the castle, while saying that Zero was super easy to remember the appearance of.

-My headcanon universe disregards a lot of True Arena content from many games, so this means that the Marx Soul stuff does not exist in my headcanons. I interpret that the Marx Soul mask came 100% out of Magolor's own twisted mind. His own invention. He thought of making an alt mask for his buddy Marx and decided to make a more menacing version of him. Marx was ecstatic when he saw the mask.

-Magolor didn't physically encounter a clockwork star himself, but Marx and Susie were able to walk him through about what they look like, allowing him to piece together the appearance of Nova to make a mask for it.

-The alternate Ribbon mask (friend's hairstyle) was a recent hairstyle that Adeleine gave Ribbon. Magolor was interested in giving Ribbon a second mask, and so she and Adeleine told him about the alternate hairstyle to make a mask for.

-The alternate DMK design (dark mirror) was not actually something that Magolor learned about, but made on his own. He didn't plan to make a secondary DMK mask (because they're not friends) until he noticed all the other star allies had secondary masks, so he figured he'd do the same for DMK, albeit just a lazy color hue change. He sometimes look at both DMK masks to laugh at their edginess.

-How did Magolor find out about Drawcia? Drawcia is known amongst Vividria individuals across Popstar. A Vividria slipped out information about Drawcia and depicted her in a painting to show to Magolor, giving him the opportunity to make a mask of her.

-Dark Daroach and Dark Nebula were things that Daroach told Magolor about. When Daroach first came to Magoland to see the masks, he thought it was both hilarious and ironic for the masks to exist. He pointed out that he didn't see a mask depicting Magolor being possessed by a cursed artifact (there's the master crown mask, but that's the phase where he hadn't been possessed yet).

-How did Magolor know about Galacta Knight? Hyness told him.

-Magolor was trying to fill up some slots with alt color swaps, explaining the "EX" masks for Whispy Woods, Mr. Dooter, Fatty Puffer, Goriath, Grand Doomer, Metal General, Landia and Traitor Magolor.

-How in the heck did Magolor find out about Sectonia, and not just that, but her original Joronia form as well? Taranza has photos and paintings of her all over the Royal Road castle. That's how Magolor found out. He decided to make the masks to honor the memory of Joronia/Sectonia and he'd figure Taranza would be grateful to the masks. Uhhh.... he eventually did, but initially he had an outrage because Magolor did it without permission. It's fine now, though.

-Magolor saw the Robobot Armor turned pink one time. It was during one time when he and Kirby simultaneously visited Susie in her home planet that contains the HWC headquarters. Magolor wanted to see Kirby ride around in Invader Armors, so Susie let that happen for him to see. That's how he knew to make a Robobot Armor mask.

-Susie's weekend outfit is, indeed, an outfit that she likes to wear on the weekends. Magolor was physically seen her wearing it, giving him the idea to make a mask for it.

-Susie has photos of her dad in the company's headquarters. Magolor briefly had a weird fixation on Haltmann by virtue of being a fellow egg-shaped money liker, just like he is. This made it a no brainer that he was going to make a Haltmann mask for the park.

Susie was initially not happy to see the weekend outfit and Haltmann masks because Magolor made them both without permission. She was getting close to threatening to sue him until he apologized and said he did it for honorable and celebrative purposes. Eventually, Susie relented and became perfectly fine with the masks existing, but she really wishes that Magolor had asked for permission first.

-Morpho Knight is very elusive in my headcanons, so how did Magolor find out about him? He found out through Elfilin and Leon. They remembered what he looks like and were glad to tell Magolor when he expressed wanting to know.

-I'll make it clear that while I headcanon the games mostly happening by order, Merry Magoland opens after Forgotten Land's events for me. This explains how Magolor knew about New World inhabitants such as Elfilin, awoofies, Carol and Leon to make masks of them. He also watched Kirby perform his mouthful mode stuff when he visited the New World, giving him the chance to make a mask of that too.

-Wait... Forgo Dedede is among the New World masks. How did Magolor find out about that when Dedede is back to normal now? Elfilin told him about the incident. He vividly remembers what Dedede looked like when Fecto Forgo further possessed him.

-----

Ok... that's all of the more questionable masks covered in my headcanons! Thanks for reading if you made it through all of this.

[zetsuboushachi]

“MASTER”

So to explain this character/OC/Final Boss this is based on a recent dream I had, one that was pretty wild in nature.

To begin, it was basically me watching gameplay footage of a new Kirby game, mainly at its finale. One of its phases was a large planetoid astroid, which appeared cobbled together and hiding something within, and during such phase the Love Love Stick from Dreamland 3 was used along with the Lor Starcutter. Soon it cuts to another scene where I assume this is the beginning part of the last phase, for some reason before the final chase down there was this melancholy walk where I saw memories of Magolor’s past, such as him wearing a adventurer’s hat and starting his expedition and research in the Ancients. Hell there was a moment where I saw Magolor and Marx hanging out as if they’re best buddies. When I saw this whole scene I legit thought to my self: “Wait is Magolor gonna die?”

It then cuts to final part, the final chase to the boss and it was dramatic in nature. Basically you literally go through every single stage/world, crossing by familiar settings and levels to reach the final boss itself (basically going from the final stage all the way back to the very first stage). One memorable scene was during the beach/water stage, where the final boss went so fast that the water was opened apart to form a path for it before crashing down, sinking the islands for a moment till resurfacing.

The final set piece where this battle takes place was oddly serene, it was just a grass field with the evening sky, the stars shining above as the horizons beautifully fall under a nightly purple fade. But standing on the center was a pitch Black Circle, it was like looking into vantablack shape that has no definite curve nor dimension. The dark circle was covered in red sketched out eyes, as if drawn hastily or stylized, staring directly at the viewer regardless of angle or position as it swirls endlessly in an angular position. The strangest part is that its not even related to Dark Matter or even Zero, hell it wasn’t even a soul boss to begin with. This thing was more mechanical than anything, whilst most Ball shaped final bosses at least hover and sway with movement, this thing was still and moves in a straight forward and calculated manner when needed (It was like a machine who only moves when it needs to, if not it just hovers unmoving). It only pulsates like a beating heart and an uncomfortable presence behind it, as if I was looking into nothingness.

When the boss health popped in, I only recall myself saying: “Master-“, as either I didn’t recall what I said afterwards or my dream cut out on that moment. The boss theme itself was a mix between Crowned and Astral Birth, leaning more on the somber side of things.

Thus I call this being of nothingness, Master

I never saw the conclusion nor the boss battle of this fight, but funnily enough the gameplay footage in this dream was a guy going at it with a no-hit no ability run.

(The Magolor design to the right is simply my interpretation of him being possessed by Master)

[desultory-novice]

Okay, back where we were left off at the Magoland Branch AU Magolor only had his sight partially restored, but in the crossover between the Apologies AU and the Magoland Branch AU his sight was fully restored. So how did that happen anyways?

Also, how long did it take between the conclusion of the Magoland Branch AU and the crossover between the Apologies AU and the Magoland Branch​ AU?

(Double question because I want lore.)

(Also, how long will it be till my other ask is done? I'm not rushing it or anything, (Take your time Dess! (^v^)​) I'm just curious about how long will it take.)

>How long did it take?

It took... X amount of time! XD ...I dunno! Noir SHOULD have been in hell since almost the beginning, since he was the first or second to die also his life has just been hell since the day his parents died....

Like Noir, who acted as "dead" as possible in the hopes of actually dying, the deceased probably stuck to their own personal purgatories and never really did much positive interacting, outside of people who formed odd connections all on their own, like Joronia and Max, who quickly bonded over their love of rich, fancy things. >w<

Max: "01001101 01110101 01110011 01110100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01100011 01101111 01100110 01100110 01100101 01100101 00100000 01101000 01100101 01110010 01100101 00100000 01100001 01101100 01110111 01100001 01111001 01110011 00100000 01100010 01100101 00100000 01100010 01110101 01110010 01101110 01110100 00111111"

Joronia: "Oooh, do not even get me started on tea in this place!"(1)

("How does Joronia know binary? Why, she's the smartest, strongest, most beautiful queen ever! Of course she knows binary!" - Taranza)

The paradigm changed when Marx found Magolor's tormented soul and convinced the Crown to give Magolor control of his body back. Magolor, trapped in a series of troubled and confusing hallucinations due to how horrific and constant the pain of having a large, wrathful tree feeding off of and growing inside him was, blindly used the crown's limitless power to create an actual theme park.

"Timeline-wise" I'd say once Elfilin and Adeleine started interacting more, Fecty probably said some off-handed remark to "the human girl" (ie: "...your eyes are the exact same color as that boy in hell...") that clued X-over Adeleine into the location/existence of her X-over brother and they had a big, tearful reunion and here we are!

(1) PS: "Hell" here is not full of demons and pitchforks, but it is uncomfortably *bright* (the sun is ever-burning and the sky goes through a cycle of golden hour-orange to fever-dream dark with shades of electric pink at night) and also, there is a larger than average amount of fire. A whole lake made of it, in fact!

>Why does Magolor have both eyes?

That was an accident on my part because I drew him from memory for the first Apologies x-over, forgetting he’s only supposed to have one eye due to still being half rooted to the crown.

I kept up with it after because, eh~ the souls are supposed to be healing slowly after "A Perfect Circle," so maybe his other eye came back on its own to show he’s reclaiming more of himself...?

(Kind wish I hadn’t made that mistake though because I was weirdly attached to one-eyed Mago Soul’s design. But he can’t just go and lose it again now for no reason. ^^)

Speaking of the first crossover and “continuity errors,” Noir wore his scarf more like an actual scarf in that one to dress in the style of the Hell branch (aka, a mix of alive and dead) but he is back to looking like regular Swordsman in “Again.” That was because I purposefully wanted the first image to fool people as to where/when this was happening, and also make it work as a legitimate visual introduction to the script portion of “Again.” Which it does, btw. That first page fairly accurately fits Noir’s experiences in DL3. ^^

I know it's shallow reasoning, but let's just go with it! If I ever return to the x-over plotline, I’ll try to indicate that properly by giving him the wrapped scarf again. ...While I’m being grilled on Hell-Branch Lore, I’m debating whether Max and Joronia are still around. I’m tempted to say “yes” and they are just healed like Magolor. (Mostly because I don’t have that many characters to work with and I think Max would be ALL IN on the “Hell is a Business Hotspot” storyline(?) we’re in.)

[yourbestpalpercy]

1. Oldest Oc: Tesha the Cat. An old fnaf oc of mine! Unless you wanna stretch it, then Playful, Pinkie Pie’s double.

2. Newest Oc: Sopranooo

3. Favorite Oc: It’s a tie between Glaze D. Donut and Iris Lovecake

4. Any villain Ocs?: Many! Soul, No Eyes, Glitch, and Rebekkah Dillman

5. Main Reason for Making Ocs: Can’t stop doodling and coming up with new ideas

6. Describe your creation process: Eeeeeeee… also inspiration! Iris is based off of Krewella’s songs, Glaze is based off of Kirby Toons Marx, Sopranooo is based off of a ghost decoration.

7. Favorite Ship: No Eyes x Recaidie. Shockingly, No Eyes isn’t using her, No Eyes genuinely adores Recaidie with all her form.

8. Do you Ship your Ocs?: Yes but not often.

9. Weirdest Oc: Any of my Fnaf Ocs

10. Favorite Oc design: Iris Lovecake

11. Would you consider yourself nice to your ocs: Shockingly…most of my ocs don’t have THAT much trauma. My villain ocs absorbed all the trauma and a good chuck of my ocs are living their best lives!

12. An Oc you’ve killed: Rebarx. She dies from Manga Marx Soul. Let’s just say her luck ran dry.

13. Are any of your ocs parents?: The closest one to being a parent is Eric Elephant as I think he’s super loving

14. Any neglected ocs?: …Soul and Glitch

15. An oc that’s hard to write or draw: Iris, Glaze, TamaMimic (I imagine them to be lizard like!), Minty (though I never draw her)

16. Your tallest and shortest ocs: Iris is my tallest (big dracooo!!) and TamaMimic is my shortest/smallest

17. Oldest and Youngest ocs: My oldest is The Tear (3000+) and my youngest is TamaMimic (1)

18. Do you dislike any of your ocs: The MILLIONS of ocs I mare when I was 12. Minty, Greenest, Applera, every single one. They’re all anthro cats with barely anything different about them. They’re bland and boring.

19. Have you ever made a self insert?: *Slowly picks up Rebarx.*

20. An Oc Regret: Please reread Question 18

[sappharii]

holy fucking shit i'm in love with the marx gijinka dhdhhucuekdujem

Wjsjsler3ve n

Aww thank you!!

I hope to make a couple doodles of him and I have a concept design for Marx soul!! I won’t spoil you on what it looks like tho hehehehehe

[opal-owl-flight]

SORRY FOR TAGGING YOU IN TWO POSTS IN A ROW but!! Swap au thing inspired by @sour-star-galaxy! I dont think Im following the rules exactly, but I will NOT turn away from a design challenge like this!

Favs gotta be the Magolor and Bandee one. But I love all of them in general! Meta was fun to think about…I gave him something similar to Artorias frok Dark souls bc its got a…hood-thing AND a pretty helmet that fits swap Meta’s personality

Also I want to cherish Swap Marx hes just a BABY!!!!

[jaskierswolf]

The Prince of Darkness

Written for @thewitcherbog flash fic challenge a while back but I never posted!

Rating: M

Summary: Jaskier is the King of the Underworld, and it's Valdo's day of judgement.

CW: Demon!Jaskier (and witchers), implied sexual content, death, torture (burning, choking, freezing.), Jask has an open relationship with all the witchers (but Geralt is his favourite), mentions of non con.

The hotel lobby was sophisticated and yet traditional, like something out of a movie. The dark panelling on the walls were dimly lit by flickering candles, and there was a fireplace roaring in the centre of the foyer, and a handful of gorgeous golden-eyed beauties were making their way around the room. They were finely dressed, perfectly tailored suits with silken blood red waistcoats detailed with golden buttercups, a tray balanced on their hands as they passed out flutes of champagne. In the corner of the room was a black grand piano, the lid propped up as the man behind it let his fingers dance across the ivory keys, rings glistening silver and gold in the candlelight.

Jaskier smiled to himself as he played, his eyes shut, focussing on every little sound in the room, blending it with the music, manipulating the souls around him until they were practically eating out of his hand.

The Prince of Darkness, the mortals called him.

Lucifer himself.

He preferred Jaskier; buttercups were so beautiful, so innocent, so toxic.

It was the perfect moniker.

Lux was his domain, his hotel, a haven for demons and sinners alike, and the perfect stage for when Jaskier had to deal with… unpleasant business. The witchers, as he liked to call his inner circle of demons, would deal with the aftermath, cleaning up the elevator before any of Jaskier’s regular clientele could see.

The witchers were just such good pets.

Geralt approached the piano, his honey golden eyes almost entirely black as they approached the end of another poor soul’s contract. There was an itch that creeped under Jaskier’s skin, hot fire burning through his veins, but it didn’t bother him. No, he relished in the flames, let it warm his cold immortal body. Cracking an eye open, he peered at the witcher who had disturbed his music.

“He’s here, my lord.”

Jaskier sighed, bringing the music to an end, and then, with a snap of his fingers, the ivory keys started to play anew. The song was a familiar tune, a well known pop song from the mortals’ charts. It would keep his honoured guests entertained, after all, at Lux the party never-ended. Those who stepped through the swinging doors were transported to a realm of endless night; cocktails, champagne and designer clothes. The chandelier in the middle of the room twinkled, and there was a sharp clack of high heels on the granite floor as his guests mingled.

None of them ever seemed to realise there was something not quite right about Lux. When they were done partying, when Jaskier had made deals for their souls, they would leave and return to their realm as if they had only been there for an evening, never to return until their contract was up.

And they always returned.

Occasionally, a poor mortal would fight it, realising their impending doom. They’d try to flee the country, get as far away from Lux as possible, but the witchers were excellent hunters. Once the demons got the right scent, they could track their prey to the end of the known universe. The mortals never stood a chance. They either came willingly or they would be dragged through the doors by two of Jaskier’s finest demons; he wasn’t sure which he preferred.

Yes it was simpler if they accepted their fate, but he couldn’t deny that he just adored the thrill of watching the poor terrified soul being thrown at his feet.

He thought of himself as a kind devil, if such a thing existed, his father would certainly disagree, but his father could rot in heaven. Truly, Jaskier did his best to be fair. He granted the mortals wishes and made sure they lived their best lives, he even allowed most of them to live for many decades with the gifts he gave them, their deepest desires. Really, for some of the wishes he’d granted, it would have been kind to allow them even a year of life, let alone what he gave to them.

Ungrateful bastards, the lot of them.

Valdo Marx had been an easy soul to claim; he was greedy, lustful, full of pride. He’d practically begged at Jaskier’s feet back when he was in his first year of university.

“I want to be the best musician the world has ever seen, I want the most beautiful woman, Virginia Stael, to be my wife, and I want-”

Jaskier had waved his hand, his dark feathered wings spreading out behind him, and Valdo’s jaw had snapped shut, muffled sounds coming from his throat.

“I want, I want, I want,” Jaskier had cooed, his finger hooking under Valdo’s chin as he pouted down at the mortal, whipping his tail round to caress down the poor man’s arm until his wrist had been locked in a vice. “Do you know what I want… Marx?”

The wanna-be musician had scoffed, a fatal mistake and one that had cost him years off his life. “Everyone knows that, Lucifer.”

“My name, Valdo, is Jaskier,” he’d hissed, his forked tongue flicking out from his lips as more and more of his devil form had been revealed. “And I just want to have fun.”

“You want my soul.”

“No, your soul is the price. A mere business transaction. I just want to get wasted and shag my rather lovely demons, and you are wasting my time.”

Ah yes. Valdo had always been a little shit-stain in Jaskier’s life, but now his time had come.

The piano music began to build to an earth shattering crescendo, making the glasses rattle, and dust fall from the chandelier. Jaskier cracked his neck, feeling a prickling sensation on his scalp as his horns began to grow, and still the sweet, oblivious mortals noticed nothing. They sipped on their champagne and chatted amongst themselves, ignoring the way Jaskier’s cornflower blue eyes slowly turned onyx, his skin deathly pale. He smiled sweetly at his favourite witcher, running his lips along Geralt’s sharp cheekbones.

“Thank you, darling,” he breathed, capturing Geralt’s lips with his, tongues meeting in a quick but heated display of passion.

And then the doors burst open, Lambert and Aiden dragginga handsome but aging man through the doors, grey hairs dusting his temple, crinkles at the corners of his eyes. It had been a long time since Jaskier had seen Valdo Marx, but there was no denying his beauty, now distinguished, a true silver fox. Dark chocolate eyes met his as all the colour drained from Marx’s face.

“Oh God, no… no, please,” he stammered, struggling in the arms of the demons that held him.

“My dear father holds no power here,” Jaskier chuckled, smirking at the man at his feet. “There’s no use in praying. Your soul belongs to me.”

“Lu- Jaskier, please. I’m too young. It’s too soon,” Valdo begged, reaching up to Jaskier with open hands. “My wife, my children.”

“Oh but Valdo, It’s never too soon. I am never early and I never try to back out of a deal, darling,” Jaskier pouted, squatting so he was at eye level with the mortal. “So why don’t you come with me, love? Stop all this fussing. You’re ruining my party.”

With a fire not often seen in mortals, Valdo spat at Jaskier, and an eerie silence fell over the club. The piano music screeched to a halt, the lid closing with a bang, and the only sound was a low rumble of growls from the witchers. Geralt was at Jaskier’s side in a flash, his sword drawn and pointed at the man.

It was sweet.

As if Jaskier couldn’t defend himself, but he did enjoy the show, the way Geralt’s arms would flex as he gripped the sword, twirling it in a circle before executing his victim.

“I had planned to give you an easy death,” Jaskier lied, standing back up to his full demonic height and clearing his face with a snap, “but now, I think I’ll have some fun. Geralt, Eskel, with me. Lambert, Aiden, make sure our guests stay out of the way.”

“No!” Valdo cried, falling once more at Jaskier’s feet, gripping onto his ankles.

Oh, how he loved it when they begged for their lives.

When Jaskier glided through the foyer, picking up a champagne flute from Coen’s tray with barely a brush of his lips to the demon’s cheek, the crowd parted before him. Compliments fell off their tongues, sweet like honey, unaware of the influence Jaskier had over them. They all watched him, they always watched him, so very eager to please. Geralt snarled behind him as one brave mortal rested their hand on Jaskier’s arm, but it was Eskel who snapped their fingers, silent and deadly, before they’d even realised he was there.

Valdo was pulled into the elevator, tears streaming down his face and choked off screams ripping from his throat, but Jaskier remained calm, and if it weren’t for his eyes and the horns amongst his tousled brown hair, he would have looked like any other hotel owner.

Until the doors closed.

And then all hell broke loose; literally. Jaskier’s body cracked and snapped into place as his legs extended to inhuman proportions, his fingers growing into talons, and he let out a sinful moan as his wings unfurled behind him. He flicked out his tail, and his three-piece suit melted away into a gorgeous black silk corset, embroidered with golden buttercups. Red stockings adorned his legs, held up by lacy black garters, and as he flicked out his ankles, a pair of strappy heels materialised on his feet, the soles flashing red before clicking back onto the floor.

“Jaskier, please, please,” Valdo cried, falling against the side of the elevator as lightning sparked and they dropped fast, the dial on the wall spinning out of control.

“Your soul… belongs to me,” Jaskier hissed, pressing Valdo up against the wall, his hands wrapping around his throat.

He was tempted to snog Valdo’s soul right out of him, a sweet kiss to seal the deal, but that was too kind, and he was feeling a little more dramatic than that, so he pushed back off the wall, beating his wings so he hovered just off the floor. Geralt and Eskel were standing on either side of him, swords drawn with toxic black eyes, veins like ink beneath their skin.

Flames burst out behind them, whipping around so the whole elevator was surrounded by a burning pyre, singeing Valdo’s clothes, and the mortal screamed as the fire licked at his hand, scorching the calloused skin. His precious hands, his livelihood, the first things that Jaskier had blessed for him.

There was something so delightfully poetic in that, and Jaskier found great pleasure in it.

“Everyone always thinks that hell is eternal fire,” he purred, stroking a talon along Geralt’s cheek, before pulling Eskel into a soft kiss, taking his time to enjoy the taste of sulfur on his tongue, “but that isn’t always true.”

“W-what?”

Jaskier just pouted at Valdo. “Do try to keep up, darling.”

And then he snapped his fingers, the fire was suddenly extinguished, replaced by a flood of muddy tar. Valdo spluttered and choked as he slid to the ground, the tar catching in his hair, and wherever it landed his handsome looks withered away. The wedding band slipped from his finger and disappeared, despite Valdo’s desperate scrambling to find it.

The muddy mixture spewed all over the lift, covering the two demons as well as their victim, but Jaskier stayed clean and dry, untouched by the tar. He really wasn’t in the mood for ruining his clothes, not like this. He was rather hoping Geralt would tear them from his body later on that day whilst his other beloved witchers watched.

“J-Jaskier!” Valdo screamed, just as the entire elevator froze.

Blue ice creeped up the walls, wrapping around the legs of both the demons and the pitiful mortal on the floor. Valdo sobbed, trying to escape the ice but they both knew it was over. His back pressed against the wall as the ice grew, crystallising over his body, wrapping around his throat. Snowflakes fell from the ceiling, landing in his eyelashes as he struggled to breathe.

And Jaskier stole back his voice.

The final gift.

Valdo’s soul ripped from his body, and the man fell limp against the wall.

With a wave of his hand, Jaskier captured the soul, weaving his magic until a silver fox with chocolate brown eyes was nestled in his arms. He grinned, lowered the fox to the floor and then snapped his fingers to open the doors.

Before he left the elevator, his corset grew into a beautiful gown, split all the way up to his thighs, and his demonic features melted away. He patted Geralt once more on the cheek, pressing their lips together, before striding back into the foyer, not looking back at the frozen massacre he’d left behind. Beside him, a silver fox trotted along, a shadow of the man he used to be.

[miniiieevee]

I just remembered when I was younger I used to have NIGHTMARES about Nova who's literally a cat with the ":3" face while I loved Marx Soul like bro that design looked so cool and that final scream tho

[succulentsunrise]

First: congratulation for the milestone & keep up (y) ! Second: who are your top ten favorite black clover characters and ships (platonic or romantic)? talk about them! (yes I already sent you this ask earlier this year but you were behind in the anime and I thought you may enjoy answering this again)

Hello again! 🥰🥰 I'm glad to hear from you again! I hope you've been well! ❤️

My top ten are obviously affected by those characters that we have seen more of recently. That's why some characters have dropped off the list in favour of new characters or have dropped further down / gone further up. (Sorry Mimosa and Noelle, I still love you!)

It became a little long, so I put it under a readmore!

1. Mereoleona Vermillion

Mereoleona continues my strong favourite due to her passionate way of living, fiery attitude and absolutely chaotic nature! She is strong, encouraging (though not always in kindest way) and she steals my heart away.

Honorary mention: As I like Mereoleona, so do I like Fuegoleon, and their dynamics together. Fuegoleon is the charismatic leadertype, and I'm glad they let it show in the manga/anime!

2. Charlotte Roselei

Especially now that I've written for her, Charlotte has a special place in my heart. I really think she is an amazing character, and her slowly modifying and overpowering her own curse is just - badass. I quite like my own headcanons for her (her being a perfectionist / really caring for the girls in her squad and being protective of them / having a tendency towards wanting to be in control) and they've solidified my image of her.

3. Finral Roulacase

Finral is such a sweet and caring boy, who is really growing to his powers. The recent chapters where he fights alongside Langris got my really excited: I really liked them and would've liked to have seen more! I am a sucker for "I'm good for nothing" characters starting to believe in themselves and prove others wrong and for sibling dynamics.

Honorary mention: Langris has really started to grow on me as well. What an arrogant, sweet boy. Stop insulting your brother and tell him you love him too.

4. William Vangeance

There's something about tragedy that compels me. William made horrible decisions in his life while trying to still be kind and do his best for the nation. It's fascinating to me how he thought this would work out. I like to imagine that he really is a gentle soul, but just horribly, horribly mistaken about some steps he took in life. Like...a lot of them.

5. Nacht Faust

See above: there's something about tragedy. He is such an edgy character and reminds me of a friend I knew once - never believed in good in people, but believed that people can do good things. Maybe that's why I like Nacht.

Honorary mention: Morgen, Morgen, Morgen, I loved you and I wish you were still here. He would easily be at the top of this list if he just...you know, appeared.

6. Grey

Grey is another one of those characters who are slowly growing on me. She is so adorable and sweet, and she is slowly coming out of her shell. It's amazing! I can't wait to figure out what's going on with her powers.

7. Gadjah

He is dutiful, he is almost deadpan, he is protective and just...a good person. I really like that. He is loyal, and I like loyalty. His good looks definitely add to the picture as well...

8. Dorothy Unsworth

I'm a little sad that we haven't gotten as much from Dorothy, but I am hoping it is still coming...maybe? Please? She is intriguing with her bright persona in dream-space (and sometimes out of it), and I really like her design. She is so fluffy!

9. Vanessa Enoteca

Vanessa is given the flirty stereotype, but I am so glad she was given so much more than that: she is resourceful and independent despite her origins (where becoming dependent on other people could've happened very easily!). I wonder where her story will go.

10. Marx Francois / Magna Swing

I have a soft spot for Marx, but also for Magna. Both are hard-workers who I feel are not always appreciated as much as they should be. They are very different characters, but this one part really endears them to me. Go Magna! Go Marx!

Then to relationships. These are a little more difficult for me, and majority might be platonic! I didn't quite have 10 that came to mind, so have 8 instead

1. Platonic Finral & Langris

The brothers are slooooooowly bonding! I talked about this already at Finral's place, but I just really, really like that they are slowly reconciling the trauma their parents gave them.

2. Platonic Finral & Vanessa

They have great synergy whether just joking around or actually fighting. I've loved the composition of them for such a long time. I can just imagine them complaining to each other while lying on the sofa, or Vanessa teasing Finral, or her giving him tips to style his hair - the possibilities are endless!

3. Platonic Mereoleona & Fuegoleon

They butt heads, they argue, they protect each other, they care for each other. A truly feisty sibling dynamic, but one that still lets it shine through that they like each other. They grew up together and had normal sibling rivalry and jealousy and stuff. It makes me feel bad a little for Leopold, who had to grow alone with older siblings. It's hard to catch up to them.

4. Platonic Nacht & Morgen

I'm not sure what to say or why they are this high up - I like sibling dynamics, maybe because my own sibling dynamics are a burning dumpster fire. They are so different, and yet they are close to each other. It's such an interesting relationship and I wish Morgen appeared more so we could've seen more of it.

5. Romantic (?) Grey x Gauche

They encourage each other to be better. I could easily see them as platonic or romantic, but lean slightly towards romantic. They have already history of helping each other, play well off of each other, and the recent events have really cemented their connection. They are the "intimidating partner and shy partner" trope all over.

6. Yami x Charlotte (romantic):

They are kind of a cute pair, aren't they? In my headcanon, it's like a waltz: Yami is leading, though he doesn't quite know the steps, and Charlotte follows along uncertainly, because while she knows the steps, she is trying to figure out where Yami is leading this dance to. The result is a mess.

7. Platonic (?) William & Yami

I put a "?" because I could also see them romantically, but for now, I will discuss them mostly as platonic buddies. They've risen in the ranks together and clearly care for each other: Yami didn't feel much hesitance in asking William rather sensitive questions, and he didn't mind answering them. They are so opposite in some ways, it's a fun dynamic.

8. Romantic Gadjah x Lolopechka

They are a canon couple now, but I've seen relatively little of them, which is why they are so down here. They are cute, I think!

[passiveagressiveukulele]

FILM GENRE

NEON NOIR

Time and time again I keep proving myself the same - I am spontaneously practical learner. I come across ideas accidentally, but unless I put them to use right then and there they vanish in a puff of smoke. 

On Sunday, me and my flatmates were cycling back home late and night and seeing as we’re all creative souls, had to stop by the mesmerising neon lights on Morrison Street. I started playing around with long exposure and white balance on my phone camera while the two of them were goofing around in front of the bike shop with the intense backlight. The results are as follows:

Eversince I’ve moved to Edinburgh I’ve been comparing its streetlights to the ones I spent many a nights under in Zagreb. Lights in Zagreb are yellow, warm, kinda romantic. The ones in Edinburgh have always felt more futuristic, the greens and the reds and the whites paired with the midnight fog gave off strong Blade Runner vibes. 

I remembered these two foggy photos I snapped last year and seeing them paired up with the impromptu Sunday shoot gave me the idea for a SciFi still.

WHAT’S MARX GOT TO DO WITH IT?

I followed Blade Runner further down the rabbit hole. The first time I saw this film took me about 6 goes to actually finish it. And once I did, I was grateful for the experience. Stylistically, it remains one of my favourite films ever. There had once been a time when I was a sucker for its message about humanity too. But that was the time before I became a feminist.

The original Blade Runner is problematic in the way it frames Deckard and Rachel’s relationship. Very rapey to say the least. Aside from that, there isn’t much to criticise about her character apart from the fact that she is there to look pretty and be in love with our male hero. Highly innovative. Truly, she is a poor attempt at a femme fatale that didn’t get much out of the Second Wave of Feminism.

Now, Blade Runner 2049 has a problem that runs deeper. Once again, women are there to serve a man. That is their purpose. But more importantly, they are disposable. I came across a fascinating article about female body count in Blade Runner sequel that raises a question which extends across the entire genre of SciFi - why are we so fixated on violence against women?

https://medium.com/@chrisosmond/blade-runner-2049s-woman-problem-38070130d610

Film also comments on the pornographic industry and the sex workers within it. The result is the same - women are items of consumption. Replaceable. Which leads me to good old Marx.

A fellow art student pointed me in the direction of Donna Haraway’s Cyborg Manifesto. Her essay ties in the ideas of cyborgs, feminism and socialism. I like the essay, but I like his explanation better. In Marxism, the proletariat worker (a man) is valued by their production output, while a woman is valued according to her reproductive output that then renders new workers and feeds the capitalist machine. In Blade Runner, the subhuman replicants are the perfect workers with no rights and women are powerless too as the scientists have seized their ability to give birth. They are now in control of the endless workers produced for the needs of the human society. 

Now’s the time to take another look at Rachel - she is very obviously a Mary figure (impossibly giving birth), but given the films mixed and ambiguous messages, she could have very well been designed that way. Suddenly her and Deckard’s relationship acquires another, biblical dimension - meet Adam and Eve. 

So where does that leave us? Humans are playing God, simultaneously giving the power of fertility to their creation and taking it away from themselves. Full control over bodies, particularly female bodies. Would you look at that, being a woman is almost as inhumane as being a robot.

THE MASTER SHOT

Last year I was all about abandoning the fantasy land and grounding myself in the reality. Now I’m back at square one, embracing the fun of the otherwordly, the very thing that got me into filmmaking in the first place.

I pitched my SciFi idea to my group and we’ll go ahead with the shoot on Friday. I imagine my heroine as a futuristic femme fatale drug dealer. I don’t know where she goes on from there but I’m happy to entertain that idea. Danny Boyle sees Edinburgh as drug town, I see it as a futuristic dystopia. 

[aaknopf]

This poem looks forward to fall, when Knopf will publish Tomás Q. Morín’s Machete. The collection, which addresses some of the concerns of life as a Mexican American in his home state of Texas, is infused more generally with a fresh and zany take on the diversity of our culture, bringing together seemingly disparate scraps of history, geography, ideology, and sensibility—as here, where we find Willie Mays, Marx, moon shot, and a bit of miracle.

Heretic That I Am

Three days now the mold has advanced across the face of the peach I caught with one hand like Willie Mays, saving it from the sidewalk and its army of black shoes and how could it happen that my peach turned into Castro, the young one who regularly baptized the microphone and the first row of sleepy workers with his spit and anger and love. What is love if not a commitment to fatigues and I wonder if he wears sea green trunks to the beach or olive pajamas with padded feet? I have to know if mold lives in his crisper too, and does it goosestep even in that temple of cleanliness before which he kneels and hunts the last rebellious grape unwilling to bear the tyranny of vines. This morning I am the one kneeling and praying in the kitchen over the beard of my communist peach, how it’s a second cousin of the hacky sack, albeit spongier, like a meatball, which reminds me the letter M is for Marx, and for moon shot, and for miracle. And sooner or later, M is also for mercy, mercy we have beauty, mercy we can’t live forever, mercy we have time and rot to work our stubborn flesh away from the bald, pale soul that screams with joy when it pops up and free toward the first night of October in Indian summer.

More on this book and author:

Learn more about Machete by Tomás Q. Morín and about its striking cover, designed by Bráulio Amado.

Learn more about Tomás Q. Morín, and catch up with him on Instagram (@tomasqmorin).

Share this poem and peruse other poems, audio recordings, and broadsides in the Knopf poem-a-day series.

To share the poem-a-day experience with friends, pass along this link.

[desultory-novice]

hello! it's good to see you back, i hope that you're doing ok :)

hopefully it's not a bother if i talk about maripav a bit? (i'm a big fan)

i was curious about what magolor would look like with the crown on. will that be seen in the comic?

i also saw in one of your old posts, you mentioned that maripav magolor is the one who admits his love first and does most of the "chasing"... it's hard to imagine considering how annoyed he's been with marx so far haha

i'm looking forward to seeing how their relationship develops :)

Thank you! And yesssssssss, please do! MariPav fan talk is always super appreciated!

Traitor Magolor and Magolor Soul will absolutely be in the comic, as will bits of the fight against them! I've titled the penultimate chapter of that section "Machinist's Sarabande"; which will play parallel to a certain flashback chapter entitled "Jester's Gavotte"

(More dance theming, yay! And not the first time the two have a pair of dance-themed parallel chapters, as there is "Witches' Allemande" for Marx and "Liar's Courante" for Magolor, which depicts their respective "falls into darkness.")

I've had a design concept in mind for Crowned Magolor from VE~RY early on and, while I'll doubtlessly retool it before I get there, I'm excited about bringing on The Pain. (Part of the reason MariPav Magolor even has horns was so he would look good donning the Crown. As another design note, while there are several reasons he doesn't use prosthetics, including medical, environmental, and aesthetic, a subtler reason was so that he could do that "descend from on high" thing he does during "Let Me Explain Everything.")

As to Magolor's interest, yes! It's funny how that works! One could even say the cake incident kinda starts it off! Marx brings him (along with a headache) a world full of life that Magolor had only dreamed of before. Till he inevitably questions: was it even the "world" he wanted...or the person who made that world fun?

:cough: Manic Jester Dream Boy :cough:

Bonus: Dess's early experiments in using screen tone

[diarrheaworldstarhiphop]

...And what about the significant skilled and white-collar migrant workforce? Despite the rhetoric about “shithole countries” or nations “not sending their best,” the toll of the migration brain drain on developing economies has been enormous. According to the Census Bureau’s figures for 2017, about 45 percent of migrants who have arrived in the United States since 2010 are college educated.8 Developing countries are struggling to retain their skilled and professional citizens, often trained at great public cost, because the largest and wealthiest economies that dominate the global market have the wealth to snap them up. Today, Mexico also ranks as one of the world’s biggest exporters of educated professionals, and its economy consequently suffers from a persistent “qualified employment deficit.” This developmental injustice is certainly not limited to Mexico. According to Foreign Policy magazine, “There are more Ethiopian physicians practicing in Chicago today than in all of Ethiopia, a country of 80 million.”9 It is not difficult to see why the political and economic elites of the world’s richest countries would want the world to “send their best,” regardless of the consequences for the rest of the world. But why is the moralizing, pro–open borders Left providing a humanitarian face for this naked self-interest?

...

As the child of migrants, and someone who has spent most of my life in a country with persistently high levels of emigration—Ireland—I have always viewed the migration question differently than my well-intentioned friends on the left in large, world-dominating economies. When austerity and unemployment hit Ireland—after billions in public money was used to bail out the financial sector in 2008—I watched my entire peer group leave and never return. This isn’t just a technical matter. It touches the heart and soul of a nation, like a war. It means the constant hemorrhaging of idealistic and energetic young generations, who normally rejuvenate and reimagine a society. In Ireland, as in every high-emigration country, there have always been anti-emigration campaigns and movements, led by the Left, demanding full employment in times of recession. But they’re rarely strong enough to withstand the forces of the global market. Meanwhile, the guilty and nervous elites in office during a period of popular anger are only too happy to see a potentially radical generation scatter across the world.

...

I’m always amazed at the arrogance and the strangely imperial mentality of British and American pro–open borders progressives who believe that they are performing an act of enlightened charity when they “welcome” PhDs from eastern Europe or Central America driving them around and serving them food. In the wealthiest nations, open borders advocacy seems to function as a fanatical cult among true believers—a product of big business and free market lobbying is carried along by a larger group of the urban creative, tech, media, and knowledge economy class, who are serving their own objective class interests by keeping their transient lifestyles cheap and their careers intact as they parrot the institutional ideology of their industries. The truth is that mass migration is a tragedy, and upper-middle-class moralizing about it is a farce. Perhaps the ultra-wealthy can afford to live in the borderless world they aggressively advocate for, but most people need—and want—a coherent, sovereign political body to defend their rights as citizens.

Trump infamously complained about people coming from third-world “shithole countries” and suggested Norwegians as an example of ideal immigrants. But Norwegians did once come to America in large numbers—when they were desperate and poor. Now that they have a prosperous and relatively egalitarian social democracy, built on public ownership of natural resources, they no longer want to.17 Ultimately, the motivation for mass migration will persist as long as the structural problems underlying it remain in place.

Reducing the tensions of mass migration thus requires improving the prospects of the world’s poor. Mass migration itself will not accomplish this: it creates a race to the bottom for workers in wealthy countries and a brain drain in poor ones. The only real solution is to correct the imbalances in the global economy, and radically restructure a system of globalization that was designed to benefit the wealthy at the expense of the poor. This involves, to start with, structural changes to trade policies that prevent necessary, state-led development in emerging economies. Anti-labor trade deals like nafta must also be opposed. It is equally necessary to take on a financial system that funnels capital away from the developing world and into inequality-heightening asset bubbles in rich countries. Finally, although the reckless foreign policies of the George W. Bush administration have been discredited, the temptation to engage in military crusades seems to live on. This should be opposed. U.S.-led foreign invasions have killed millions in the Middle East, created millions of refugees and migrants, and devastated fundamental infrastructure.

Marx’s argument that the English working class should see Irish nationhood as a potential compliment to their struggle, rather than as a threat to their identity, should resonate today, as we witness the rise of various identity movements around the world. The comforting delusion that immigrants come here because they love America is incredibly naïve—as naïve as suggesting that the nineteenth-century Irish immigrants Marx described loved England. Most migrants emigrate out of economic necessity, and the vast majority would prefer to have better opportunities at home, among their own family and friends. But such opportunities are impossible within the current shape of globalization.

Just like the situation Marx described in the England of his day, politicians like Trump rally their base by stirring up anti-immigration sentiment, but they rarely if ever address the structural exploitation—whether at home or abroad—that is the root cause of mass migration. Often, they make these problems worse, expanding the power of employers and capital against labor, while turning the rage of their supporters—often the victims of these forces—against other victims, immigrants. But for all Trump’s anti-immigration bluster, his administration has done virtually nothing to expand the implementation of E-Verify, preferring instead to boast about a border wall that never seems to materialize.18 While families are separated at the border, the administration has turned a blind eye toward employers who use immigrants as pawns in a game of labor arbitrage.

Meanwhile, members of the open-borders Left may try to convince themselves that they are adopting a radical position. But in practice they are just replacing the pursuit of economic equality with the politics of big business, masquerading as a virtuous identitarianism. America, still one of the richest countries in the world, should be able to provide not just full employment but a living wage for all of its people, including in jobs which open borders advocates claim “Americans won’t do.” Employers who exploit migrants for cheap labor illegally—at great risk to the migrants themselves—should be blamed, not the migrants who are simply doing what people have always done when facing economic adversity. By providing inadvertent cover for the ruling elite’s business interests, the Left risks a significant existential crisis, as more and more ordinary people defect to far-right parties. At this moment of crisis, the stakes are too high to keep getting it wrong.

[absolutely-zero-regrets]

001 Kirby for tha ask meme u-u

001 | Send me a fandom and I will tell you my:

Favorite character:

I can’t choose between Meta Knight and Marx. Both are very good :0

Least favorite character:

fucking Phan Phan. I’d say Anime!Dedede is up there, too. Just not regular Dedede, who I adore.

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon):

Marxolor, Metadede, Kirfluff, Francisca x Susie, Daroach x Dark Meta Knight

Character I find most attractive:

I don’t know about attractive, but I guess Francisca is kinda cute.

Character I would marry:

I don’t know???? ????????

Character I would be best friends with:

Probably Meta Knight, though Magolor is up there too.

A random thought:

Marx’s (who just showed up one day after probably dying in space, coming back to life, and just fucking around the galaxy whilst deliberately avoiding Kirby) description in Star Allies: A final boss here to help!! Isn’t that great!!! Sure he stabbed you in the back, but just look at him, he’s a funney little jester! Such a good friend :)

Magolor’s (who apologized for his actions in person, built a theme park as a way to show that he’s trying to change, and is still trying to make up for what he did) description in Star Allies: you fool. you would even consider speaking to this bitch? this liar bitch? are you really willing to let him turn on you again huh? he’s a lying bastard egg. you idiot. you absolute buffoon. don’t trust that magic cat asshole. he has giant-ass knives and bombs. for stabbing you with. he will blow up all sense of hope within you if you let him. idiot.

An unpopular opinion:

the kirby anime is not good and serves as a poor representation of the actual games. they could’ve done so much better than taking the names and the two most basic elements of each character.

My canon OTP:

Taranza x Pre-corruption Sectonia TT~TT

My Non-canon OTP:

Marxolor.

Most badass character:

Do I even need to say? Meta Knight easily takes the cake (or is it, in truth, the ruler of the underworld..? Only he knows. Squeak Squad had an.. interesting plot.)

Most epic villain:

I love all most of them, but Magolor Soul has got to be the most epic in my opinion. The design, the battle, the theme song! Even the dark parts! Magolor may be a traitorous egg, but I don’t think anyone really deserves that fate... At least Marx can help him deal with the trauma

Pairing I am not a fan of:

Now, there are pairings I’m not fond of, and there are some I absolutely detest. Some pairings I’m not a fan of are Magolor x Susie and Meta Knight x Susie. A pairing I wish I could wipe off the face of this planet, however, is Kirby x Meta Knight.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another):

I wouldn’t say they screwed up, but I’ve always viewed Magolor as a more reserved and reclusive type of guy. I don’t think constant near-Marx levels of energy suit him very well, but that’s just me. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a mischievous little bastard, but he just needs to recharge his social battery a lot, y’know?

Favorite friendship:

Kirby and Bandana Dee! Also Kirby and Gooey! Kirby, Bandana Dee, and Gooey!! 200/10 !!!!!!

Character I most identify with:

Meta Knight. He’s very much a mood.

Character I wish I could be:

I’d have to go with either Marx or Magolor!