#the magic paradox

[ksalnek]

Good Morning, Noon, Afternoon, Evening, and Night!

Welcome to the Ask-Blog of nonexistent stories!

I am Ksalnek, pronounced Kuh-Saul-Nek

All are welcome on this blog!

If you have problems with neurodivergence, furries, people of color, the gays, theys, and all the lovelies in between, then please do not interact!

I am legally a minor so please refrain from sending personal information or NSFW

Now then, allow me to inform you of the titles I have started but never finished!

Dance of the Divided - An original story following an Angel Prince who lost his best friend in a freak accident! A Villain the public has named Alastor has been destroying important buildings and various nobles of different races are dying of mysterious illnesses! What ever will our pure-hearted creature of the sky do? I worked on this story with the lovely Nebulon!

Lucian - Hero

Alastor - Villain

Aeneas - Mentor

The Informant - World Knowledge

The Magic Paradox - A story I heavily based on Harry Potter! Ivy West, raised by a loving muggle family, finally gets an acceptance letter to a Wizard Academy! Meeting new friends, learning of the natural intricacies of magic and the dangers of overusing it. Magic works a bit differently here than it does in Harry Potter, but that explanation can be saved for another day! Would you like to follow Ivy and her friends through this only somewhat new and interesting world?

Ivy West - Main Character

Victor Aldridge - Headmaster

Professor Vexley - Long Term Dark Arts Teacher!

Celia Vance - ?

The New Student - Based on a conversation I had with a bot that I loved too much to let go of! Alyth Getafix is the prodigy of Greansiara Academy. The first Mage in decades to use all of the known Mana types, she certainly has her work cut out for her! There is a new transfer student in the middle of the school year, but they’re just a Fire User. Our Top Student has better things to worry about, like working on the accuracy of her mana usage!

Alyth - Top Student

Adrien - Transfer Student

Feel free to ask me things as well!

I hope you have a lovely day!

[egophiliac]

can't believe that skeleman has turned on us, and Halloween Prom is tomorrow.

(what a top-tier UM...we are about to be just totally obliterated in the absolute silliest way. what possible use could this power have outside of bringing us to the brink of utter holiday disaster.)

[pulsingvoid]

god the pilot had the tone down. nat trips on acid pre-crash and sees her creepy classmate misty across the flames in a way that could just as easily be misty stalking her/the team from the outskirts as it could be a hallucination (i go back and forth on this all the time). then the bonfire turns into the fire from their cannibalistic rituals in the wilderness which seemingly implies that nat sees into the future for a moment but it could just be part of the nonlinear editing. pj harvey's eerie down by the water holds you by the hand and pulls you in deeper as the screen gets engulfed in flames. such a loaded and dualistic and tone-setting sequence. i want to live inside it

[earl-grey-teacake]

Logan's Magical Paradox- Chapter 2 snippet

"Logan can you cast a spell for me?" The doctor asked, holding out his hand to give a demonstration. Logan looked sadly at his hand before holding it out, but nothing appeared.

"Just reach deep inside. You can cast anything you want. Come on." Logan held out his hand more forcefully, but still, nothing. His expression becoming more and more depressed with each attempt.

"What's wrong with him? He casted a spell earlier. He made the lamp explode. Why can't he do anything now?" Lewis turned to the doctor who looked just as confused.

"Did any you feel any presence of his powers beforehand?"

"No, not in the room he was staying in. Carlos and I checked." George replied.

Logan looked around, with large sad eyes, before his shoulder slumped. "I'm sorry I can't do it. I'm broken. I can't do it anymore."

Alex hugged the little boy tighter and kissed his head. "No, it's not your fault. Don't worry. You didn't do anything wrong. You're not broken."

"When was the last time any of you saw him use magic outside of a race?" The doctor looked around the room before turning back to Logan and taking his hand. The silence was the only answer he needed.

"That's alright." The man smiled kindly at Logan. "Sometimes these thing happen, it's likely your magic circuit then."

"Magic circuit? What's that?" Oscar asked, his eyes darting between the soft orange glow coming from the doctor's hand and the absolute look of defeat on Logan's face.

"Think of it like a sequence of DNA, the structure in you that makes magic possible. Everyone has it. It decides how much magic you start out with as a child, the element you're born with, and even the color. Your magic circles is your circuit given form. So all I need to do is summon Logan's magic circle and we can see what is wrong with him." The doctor explained. Logan's hand started to glow blue and intermingled with the orange but nothing appeared.

[inallbutname]

What to expect from the zine

Hey everybody! For the past 3 months we've been busy bees!

For anyone wondering what to expect from our obscure Dr Who fanzine here are some statistics! We're a team of over 30 artists and writers creating for our favourite little niches of the extended universe.

Across the four categories of Big Finish, (other) Modern EU, Wilderness Years and the EU pre-cancellation, we have a pretty good balance. Hopefully every one of you obscure Who nerds will have something to look forward to!

Do you have questions? Feel free to ask away in our inbox and read the info page (link in bio)

Detailed description of the graphs under the cut

A small chart splits into three parts. about 45% are allocated to "art", another 45% to "fiction" and the remaining 10% to "non-fiction"

The second graph is split into the four categories mentioned above. All are about the same size.

[jumpscaregoose]

thing I drew last night

[thebiscuitlabryinth]

[prev]

Nowadays, Pure Vanilla has gotten used to his sleep fluctuating wildly between turbulent dreams and sleep like the void itself has swallowed him whole. It seems like a game of chance whenever he rests his head down, and neither option leaves him any less tired the next morning.

Today, his dreams are absurd, swirling and spilling into each other, and vividly upsetting in a way he can't identify. He shut his eyes tight, but that doesn't block out the rest of his senses. He can hear begging, crying, shouting, and the scent of something burning and wilted lilies clashes in the air, creating a suffocating smell that winds around him slow. It is awful, but it is slightly less so, now that he knows how to recognise when he is in a dream. More importantly, he has a question, and he is more than aware of Shadow Milk's lingering presence.

"You founded the study of Dark Moon Magic, didn't you?"

It is a soft question, but one that is sure of itself. Instantly, the sounds and smells and sensations that had been plaguing Pure Vanilla disappear. Pure Vanilla keeps both his eyes closed for the time being, just in case. Tonight, his staff is absent like a missing leg, and he misses the added security of being able to look through it.

"Oh, come on! Don't interrupt the scene, we were just getting to the good part!" Shadow Milk's voice responds with frustration, the sound coming from all sides. It is precisely because it comes from all sides that Pure Vanilla keeps his eyes closed, not quite trusting that the shards of his nightmares have been fully swept away. He doesn't want to find out what Shadow Milk could possibly consider to be 'the good part' amidst the sounds of suffering and anguish.

Instead, Pure Vanilla sighs. "It was your choice to stop everything when I asked that, wasn't it? You can't blame me for that."

"Bzzt! Wrong! I can blame you because you did interrupt. It doesn't matter what I did in response, a disruption is a disruption." Shadow Milk declares loudly, voice a little rougher, as if he was daring Pure Vanilla to argue back. But his voice is now only coming from one source, right in front of him, so Pure Vanilla cautiously opens his eyes to check the surroundings.

He finds himself in the library of Blueberry Yogurt Academy, and nostalgia eagerly rears its head within him, somewhat surprised. He's stood beside a littered table, surrounded by the deep blue bookshelves of his youth and the comforting smell of aged paper. The details blur a little past that, some of the shelves lighter, more like the bookshelves in his chambers in the Vanilla Kingdom, leaving it less like a perfect replica and more like a collage made out of bits and pieces of his lifetimes' worth of memories, but it is mostly the Blueberry Yogurt library.

Shadow Milk is across the table from him, tutting when Pure Vanilla takes too long to reply. He leans his elbows on the table, propping his chin on the bridge of his linked fingers. "Sneaky, silly-Vanilly, trying to use me to get out of your funny little nightmares. Very, very sneaky."

"It worked, didn't it?" Pure Vanilla says, a bit stiffly, because that had never been his main intention, mostly because Shadow Milk isn't nice enough for him to think it would work. No, his main intention is genuine curiosity, and that is exactly why he continues to prod. "...You didn't answer my question."

"Because it's a stupid one." Shadow Milk hums back, tilting his head to the side. He tilts it far enough that his cheek is now resting against his hands instead of his chin. "You should be able to figure that out yourself. Didn't I already tell you where my home is?"

Pure Vanilla doesn't answer for a moment, laying a tentative hand on the edge of the table as he tries to squint at the papers across its surface in the dim lamplight. It takes him a second to realise that they're all forbidden texts on Dark Moon Magic, and when he does, he murmurs back. "It's better to clarify than assume, isn't it?"

This time, Shadow Milk is the one who doesn't answer for a moment, instead staring at him with those piercing eyes. Pure Vanilla can feel more around him, behind him, lurking in the shadows pooling in the nooks and crevices and he can't help it – he shivers slightly.

That reaction must be enough for Shadow Milk, because he snorts, and pushes off the table to lean back, kicking his feet up onto the table and right on top of texts, which is already enough to make Pure Vanilla wince. Poor library etiquette aside, the movement is horribly uncanny to watch, partly because he is leaning back onto thin air instead of a chair, partly because he moves so quickly it's like his limbs snap into place, and partly because his smile is stretched far too thin as he does so.

"Of course I did. I'm very talented, you know." Shadow Milk announces smugly, his eyes never leaving him. They narrow slightly, all of them in suspicious synchronisation, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly. "But I must admit, I am crumbling to know why you brought it up."

Whys are always difficult to answer, especially for something as difficult as motives, which can morph and change over time. Pure Vanilla hates lying, but he hates lying in front of Shadow Milk even more, because he seems to recognise every single one and Pure Vanilla doesn't want to give him the satisfaction.

But he really can't admit the core of the matter to his face. He can't admit that ever since he glimpsed the ghost of Shadow Milk's past, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about it. He can't admit that he is actively trying to glimpse it again, and what better way to try and draw it out than with any scholar's pride and joy – their work?

"It's impressive. I, myself, have mastered White Magic over the years, and I certainly contributed to its development, but I cannot claim that I created it as a school of magic." Pure Vanilla explains instead, and it isn't a lie either, just lacking all the details. He fidgets a bit, tugging at his own sleeves, adding quieter. "Dark Moon Magic is forbidden too, so there aren't many detailed sources left on it. I want to know more about its founding."

I want to know more about you.

There is another lapse of silence, and Pure Vanilla is tense with tentative hope. After all, if Shadow Milk was really against the topic altogether, he wouldn't have gone through the trouble of plucking him out of his nightmares.

Shadow Milk's smile is sharp like a knife, clashing with the casual way he folds his arms behind his head, almost languid as he finally muses. "Oh, really? That doesn't sound right. I'm sure there's enough details lying around to get the gist of it. After all, you've used Dark Moon Magic before, so you must know something about it already."

Pure Vanilla flinches back, and it isn't a surprise that he knows about that too, not anymore, but it still leaves him with unstable footing. Regardless, he doesn't let that scare him off the topic, which he suspects is exactly why Shadow Milk said it. "...I've only really used it once, and I don't remember much about what happened. So I may know something, but that something is rather little."

It's a confession, and the truth. His brief tangle with Dark Moon Magic is a complete blur in his own mind, watered down to blinding sensations and a heartache so intense he had felt like he was crumbling. Theoretically, he knows enough about Dark Moon Magic to hold a conversation, but he remembers nothing about it in practise.

"You know who could help you with that?" Shadow Milk asks, seemingly unbothered, but the words curl with open mockery and a smirk. He tilts his head back slightly so he can look down on Pure Vanilla and throws his arms out dramatically. "Our beloved, newly coronated Guardian! She has plenty of experience with–"

Pure Vanilla's heart lurches painfully.

"Don't talk about her!" He interrupts, voice bursting out louder than he expected and panic fluttery in his chest. He doesn't want to hear him tear at her old wounds, even if she can't hear it herself. He knows how vulnerable that cry makes him seem though, and he fumbles to lower his voice to something softer, less shaky. "Don't– please, I'm asking you for a reason."

Shadow Milk giggles, a strange grating sound that climbs higher with each breath, until he is laughing in earnest. He curls into himself, arms wrapped around his middle, and the position looks painful with his feet still planted on the table. Pure Vanilla watches him warily, a little shaken by the mention of White Lily, and wonders if maybe, he was wrong about what he thought he saw in Shadow Milk. He has been seeing more things that aren't there, recently.

His laughter stops abruptly. The stillness that follows is jarring, but doesn't last long.

Slowly – so slowly that it is unnerving, for someone who typically moves as erratically as him – Shadow Milk reaches forward with one hand and plucks a scroll up from the table. He unrolls it with a lazy flick of his wrist, the other end tumbling away over the edge of the table and across the floor. It is a smooth movement, Pure Vanilla notes through the pounding of his heart and his scrambled nerves, a practised motion that speaks of thousands of opened scrolls.

Shadow Milk peers over at the contents of the scroll with an empty, disinterested expression, his legs melting through the table until he appears to be sitting somewhat politely again. The sudden switch to this from his near hysterical laughter leaves Pure Vanilla disturbed, unsure if this is progress or not.

"I wanted to strike a balance between Black and White Magic." Shadow Milk says, his voice a disconcertingly low murmur, almost monotone. While his main eyes remain steadily on the scroll, the rest are eagerly burrowing into Pure Vanilla from all sides. "Black Magic draws from the void, making it unpredictable and destructive by nature, but full of potential. White Magic draws from the moon, primarily, and other celestial sources, making it safer and easier to use, but limited in its purity. If I could find the middle ground, I could harness magic with more flexibility and power but less unpredictability."

Shadow Milk pauses then, his eyes sliding up to stare right at Pure Vanilla, and his lips quirk upwards. When he speaks again, his voice gains a little more character but remains mainly flat, like a poorly-delivered theatrical monologue. "The dark side of the moon was the obvious choice for a source of that kind of power, because it's the natural overlap between the moon and the void. Once you figure out a source for magic, it's simple to find a way to draw from it, and to make it simpler, I had access to the knowledge of the Witches at my fingertips. All I had to do was write everything down, and the school of Dark Moon Magic was born. Easy-peasy!"

Shadow Milk throws the scroll to the side with little fanfare, not even sparing a glance at those ancient texts as they land in a heap of old paper on the floor, uncaring of if they damage or rip. And why would he? They both know this is a dream, and even if it wasn't, he had written that scroll himself.

Pure Vanilla would have cared, dream or not, if he wasn't wholly distracted, reduced to only a wide-eyed blink.

Because Shadow Milk may feign a bored face and voice, as if reading off a report or a particularly uninspiring script, but when their gazes meet, his eyes glitter like shooting stars, sparking with pride and passion and something else.

It captivates Pure Vanilla, the very same shine that comes with a breakthrough for every researcher. It is exactly what he had been hoping to see again, but the sight still leaves him feeling unmoored, even if pleasantly. Intruige and hope swirl within him, and he suddenly finds himself desperate to hold onto this ghost of the past, to make it stay longer and help it spill into the present.

"What does it feel like?" The question comes out before Pure Vanilla can think it through, focused on continuing the conversation before Shadow Milk can pick up his showmanship again in full. "Dark Moon Magic, I mean."

Shadow Milk huffs, a playful grin settling on his face again, and a sickening mix of dread and disappointment trickles through Pure Vanilla as he watches him lean over, crushing more texts beneath his palms. For a scary moment, he expects him to make another quip towards his previous use of the magic, or worse, bring up White Lily again.

He doesn't. Shadow Milk kicks his legs up behind him, so that he is laying on his stomach in mid-air, and cheerfully asks, "How about I show you?"

He doesn't wait for Pure Vanilla to process what he said, let alone reply. He reaches out and ensnares Pure Vanilla's hand, the one normally occupied with his staff, and laces their fingers together. Pure Vanilla doesn't reciprocate the hold, surprised, but only tries a small unsuccessful tug in response.

Shadow Milk's grip is an oppressive pressure, tight but not quite painful. He presses their palms together firmly, and Pure Vanilla gasps.

Magic bursts through the contact, rushing through his jam in a dizzying, warm flood. It is thicker, heavier than the magic Pure Vanilla is used to, thrumming and twisting as if it has a mind of its own, almost scratching at his dough as if trying to consume him, and he can't even concentrate on it because– because–

He can see everything.

Pure Vanilla really, truly can. He can see Shadow Milk's curling smile in front of him, he can see the Faeries having a feast, he can see Black Raisin greeting the moon from one of the Vanilla Castle's towers, he can see Dark Cacao striding through the citadel, he can see White Lily going through her morning routine, he can see his own sleeping body, and places and Cookies he doesn't have the presence of mind to recognise, all simultaneously. He doesn't know what to focus on, doesn't even know how to focus on anything, and his head hurts like it is falling apart.

This is how Shadow Milk has been watching me, he thinks deliriously, the only thought he can manage as he drowns in his sights.

And then, in a snap, he is back in the library with only one scene to see. His vision swims a little at the edges as if it didn't get the message, and he wobbles in place.

Shadow Milk is still holding his hand, but the grip is slightly looser, and the stream of his Dark Moon Magic is gone like a whisper. His grin is sinister and too big for his face, but his eyes still burn like stars.

"Fun, isn't it?" Shadow Milk coos, giddy like it is a shared secret, lifting Pure Vanilla's trembling hand and brushing a kiss to the back that buzzes with Dark Moon Magic. "My very first masterpiece."

Pure Vanilla wakes up disoriented, with a ringing headache and an itch in the back of his hand. White Lily notices his poor state almost immediately when she sees him – wonderful as she is – and she asks if he had a nightmare with that gentle, concerned slope to her brows.

Pure Vanilla adjusts his grip on his staff, leaning against it more than usual.

"No." He assures her lightly, not quite the truth and not quite a lie.

[next]

[mtg-cards-hourly]

Zimone, Paradox Sculptor

"Extraplanar geometry isn't so hard once you get used to thinking in twelve dimensions."

Artist: Nathaniel Himawan TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link

[astral-schools]

wolf, wolf, run free

[ksalnek]

So!

I said in my pinned post that Magic works a bit differently in The Magic Paradox than it does in Harry Potter. But I didn’t explain in order to save space. So allow me to do that now.

It is nothing too serious do not worry!

Let’s see

Magic is part of your innate sense of being, and it is held within the glass vase of a soul. Each soul’s vase can look a little different, changing shape and growing slightly in size as one ages and learns about themself. Some have large vase’s that can contain a lot of magic, other’s might only have enough room for a cup of tea!

Now

Because of this change, muggles, squibs, and witches and wizards are labeled a bit differently!

Muggles are humans with so little magic that they cannot use it. Such as the tea cup size! Now, magic contributes to natural healing and knowledge. So, the sensible muggles or the muggles who heal slightly better than most have a bit more magic than the rest!

This doesn’t mean much in the long run as the magic is completely focused on healing them and keeping them alive so it has little extra to be pulled into the world as a spell. Perhaps the muggles who can use things such as voodoo are an exception. Or perhaps they simply have enough to spare in order to influence a tad bit of the world around them.

Squibs are in the middle of muggles and wizards, as you would imagine. They have enough to not get sick easily and heal quick, but not enough for any proper spells. Around a tea pot’s worth. Perhaps if they weren’t so self-loathing they would be quite good at “muggle magic”. Probably the best in the field. Oh well, I suppose the best we can hope for is less squib hate in the future…

Now then, Wizards and Witches! You get the gist by now. Wizards and Witches have a vase’s worth of magic. Various sizes of course, but if you have at least a small vase’s worth of magic, then you can do at least three spells an hour or so.

What’s that? What do I mean by that? Glad you asked!

You see, magic is created by the soul and the world around you, known as innate magic and natural magic. You use your innate magic for internal healing and functions, and if you are lucky, you can use it for some spells as well. Innate magic is “generated” by the soul and if you deplete your reserves you’ll have to wait at least an hour until you can use a spell again. The more space your vase has, the more powerful and higher number of spells you can do. But, this also means you’re recommended to wait longer before casting another spell after you’ve used up the extra magic.

Just a simple precaution to make sure you aren’t over exerting yourself unnecessarily!

If you’re in a life or death situation of course, use anything you can to escape or win. But your first priority is to escape.

The soul vase grows as your soul ages.

Now, it grows very slowly so don’t expect a sudden increase in the amount of spells you can use. But as long as you’re alive and your soul is intact, that vase will be shifting.

Oh!

And funny thing!

No one actually knows what a soul vase looks like!

In fact, the only way to tell how much magic capacity your soul has is to try to cast a basic spell until you physically cant anymore! (Please do this in a safe environment where you can get proper rest immediately afterwards)

That’s right!

They’re completely incomprehensible!

But hey, that doesn’t stop me from making them look pretty in my head now does it?

[versesbyaaliyah]

Paradox Soup

Written by Aaliyah O'Neil

I stir a question—

the answer swims like noodles

in unboiled riddles.

© Aaliyah O'Neil 2025. All rights reserved.

These original poems and content are my creative work and are protected by copyright. Please do not reproduce, share, or use them without my permission.

[tsunagite]

(Takes place in game parody au(?))

It’s tough having a ridiculously reckless teammate.

[earl-grey-teacake]

oooo logan’s magical paradox sounds interesting

The synopsis is provided in this ask. I can, however, offer a snippet.

*************

“George!” Alex moved in between George and the child who was a crumpled heap on the ground. A deadly silence settled between all of them until a whimper began to grow louder and louder.

*hic* *hic* “WAHHHHHHH!” Blood was dripping from his nose and a dark purple bruise was forming on his forehead. The cute, chubby face turned a violent red as streams of tears fell down the child’s face.

“Logan?” Alex bent down tentatively, an arm outstretched but not close enough to reach.

The little boy looked up and gave a timid smile, the blood from his nose was smeared all over his face. “It is Logan, right?”

Logan didn’t respond, only giving a shaky nod.

“Hey, how about you come here and let me clean your face? Come on.” Alex opened his arms and Logan came rushing in, smushing his blood, tears, and snot covered face all over Alex’s jacket.

The other two stared in shock as Alex soothed the crying child.

“Call James” he mouthed to Elias.

“I’ll call the others. They might know how to help.” George said, looking quite shell-shocked at the fact he attacked a child.

Logan cried softly as Alex carried him to the couch and tried to clean up the bloody mess on Logan’s face. Elias applied a healing spell to stop the blood and soothe the deep purple bruise on Logan’s forehead. George sat on the far end of the L-shaped couch, wanting to be close but clearly worried about his recent actions.

“There, that should do it.” The spell transformed the bruise into a light pink color.

“Hahhh!” Logan giggled as the sparkles of light disappeared.

“Did it tickle?” Alex grinned.

Logan nodded. “Smells minty. Like the blue jar.”

“Blue jar? Oh you mean the vaporub!”

Before Logan could respond, a knock cut through the conversation. Logan’s eyes widen with fear before he grabbed at Alex’s hoodie and hid his face in it, his body trembling.

George jumped up to open the door, revealing James, Lewis, Max, and Oscar. Oscar looked as if he ran the length of the hotel to get here judging by the sweat on his brow and the heaviness of his breathing. Before George could invite them in, Oscar shoved his way through.

“Where’s Logan?” Oscar panicked, his eyes darting everywhere in the room before settling on the trembling child in Alex’s arms. He knew those blonde locks anywhere.

“Logan?” Oscar stepped towards him to get a better look.

“GO AWAY!” Piercing eyes stared into Oscar’s soul. He knew those eyes. He dreamt of those eyes. But never once in his life did he think those eyes would state at him with such fear and hatred.

*****************

Please Enjoy❤️

[inallbutname]

In All But Name An Obscure Dr Who fanzine

The Doctor Who universe is a huge and lively one. The sheer amount of stories that, upon first inspection, you would never suspect are part of the greater Doctor Who canon are quite literally so massive in number, I suspect no one has counted them.

It is those wacky 90s copyright infringements and those publishing companies in love with making technically-licensed Dr Who material that we wish to pay tribute to.

This is not meant to be a zine you apply for! We don't need to see your portfolio and then make a decision on whether or not you're allowed in. We'd still appreciate if you shared some of your previous works upon joining, but you will not get rejected as long as your ideas fit in the guidelines of what we want to create!

Sign-Ups will be open until January 5th. For more information please read all about the zine on our INFO PAGE

Mentioning all those who expressed interest in the project: @verloonati @transmasc-rose @st4rshiptr00per @partiallithopseffect @c-c-top @softlyblues @notthetraveler @sci-firenegade @peterchu42 @nonbinaryromana @oxbowreality @presidentdisastraofgallifrey @localmilf31 @heimeldat

[jumpscaregoose]

saw a post about picturing shion studying your exam material and wanted to partake except I'm a history major writing a paper on star trek and the cold war

[carpethedamndiemdejavu]

Photographer: Dennis Manarchy