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thebiscuitlabryinth · 3 months

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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]

#oops this was longer than i expected #i mainly just wanted an excuse to wax lyrical about possible interpretations of their magic systems <3 #sm is having the time of his life btw. pv? not so much #writing this is like a tightrope act between pv's idealistic hopes and sm-related psychological disturbance #pure vanilla cookie #shadow milk cookie #shadowvanilla #vanilla milkshake #pureshadow #echo paradox au #the biscuit library

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2impostors · 1 year

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my absolute favourite FAVOURITE thing about john/alecto is that they are both each other's fucked up little science project that got Very out of hand.

they are both simultaneously victor and the creature to each other at all times. they love each other they ARE each other, they are divorced and married at the same time. they (literally) can’t live without each other and each will be the other’s end. they still love each other despite this.

#tlt #the locked tomb #john gaius #alecto #i can feel myself wanting to go off the deep end about them both when atn comes out so best prepare yourselves akjshdf #we can all agree that John Fucked Up but imo we should also be discussing what a truly weird fucked up insane thing alecto did too #she looked at this idealistic little guy struggling against the system and was like time to alter him irrevocably and inevitably doom him :)

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kaurwreck · 8 months

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As a fellow Virgo/Enneagram One, I cannot emphasize enough how very much aligned it is with Kunikida's characterization for him to have a stated list of idealized standards for a partner while simultaneously being attracted only to disaster men he found in the trash.

Katai and Dazai are not exceptions to any rule, they are the punchlines.

#bungou stray dogs #kndz #bsd kunikida #kunikatai #kunikidazai #bsd dazai #bsd katai #I am barely joking #kunikida and i have the same neuroses and there is nothing idealistic perfectionists love more than fixing people/systems

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nhaneh · 3 months

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Miqo'March 26, Faith

"I believe in people, in their ability to be selfless and kind. That they will stand together and help each other in times of hardship and sorrow. That they will rise to aid and protect each other in the face of oppression and tyranny. All it takes is just a little bit of hope."

#ffxiv #miqomarch #kea lurvis #gpose shenanigans #I really wasn't sure what to do with this one tbh #in the end I tried to go for a simple acts of kindness kinda thing #kea is definitely a bit of a naive idealist #who doesn't necessarily understand systemic problems #she knows the eorzean city-states all have their issues #but she lacks the vocabulary to express what those issues are #all she knows how to do is to try to inspire people #to keep trying to do their best #to never loose hope #and have faith in people and their ability to do good

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clockworkreapers · 5 months

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Theoretically if Limes are allowed back into AN society and live a normal live, where are they in the hemospectrum and what are the typical jobs for them?

(ps: still waiting for Hiveswap 3 for Lime lores)

An interesting question since as with canon lime bloods are removed from the social structure entierly, outright culled off but in AN… it’s not much better. Firstly it would take a TON of law changes and likely a change over in ruler as well as having stuff slowly integrate into a point where lime bloods even are seen as valid citizens again. I’m talking thousands of sweeps trying to get anything to change let alone highbloods and traditionalists to agree to such a thing. ALSO FOR CLARITY I ONLY SPEAK FOR ALEPH NULL’S UNIVERSE HERE.

Where they would be put is entirely up to the powers that be, could be rust level, could be where they were prior- could even be they are put up higher to give them more protections. It really depends on who’s in charge. I’ll tell you one thing though (cuz I’m a realist even when it comes to fiction love idealist stuff but there are logical issues) I don’t think a lot of trolls might enjoy the fact an excommunicated caste is allowed back in the system. I could go into why but that WILL become a massive tangent on Alternian social politics wich is likely messy as fuck.

The only safe place to realistically put them would honestly be below rust till you figure out how to fix their entire social structure and systemic issues. Thus you’d likely give them any job rusts might, maybe the general just ubdisirable things, housing same deal start small. Later on you can open more doors and fix the entire fuckery that is their society if that’s your goal. A system like alternias is incredibly fragile to make any changes you need to be very slow and delicate lest it will shatter and not in the way you want. (It’s very easy for war to break out if you move too fast and you tip the scales a bit too much and piss off a ton of people with your decisions.)

#your pretty much dealing with systemic social politics #wich is a very dangerous tedious and slow moving game #that and trolls are violent and awful little buggers #to save on an upset tho yeah safest you can be is to put them lower than rust #you’ll get backlash either way realistically #I can’t be an optimist nor an idealist with trolls just cuz of their nature #clock rambles

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tiredassmage · 4 months

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actually, fuck it, woe! wip wednesday be upon ye! [i'm. we're basting another hyrohtyr au. i'm being unwell.] i'm currently too tired to give the entire context and i have no idea if i'll finish the whole piece, but i had to do something to get blorbo feelies out of my braincase bc i'm. i'm having a time. anyway!

what i will give you is this is sometime after ziost, but before kotfe. bc that's like. that's important timeline detail. xD

“Did you get my message?” The shell is familiar, the outline of a stance, but that’s where it ends. His feet steady into an ingrained rhythm that suggests parade rest, save for his hands clasping in front around the datapad. There’s… something about it she hasn’t seen since… Yavin. The frown finally stirs upon her lips. Nine was not one about whom she often searched the Force for answers upon, having learned quickly it was much too akin to an infringement upon the agent’s boundaries and trust, but she didn’t need it now to feel caution cool her previously racing thoughts. What happened on Ziost… It would change everything. Everyone. Touched by Vitiate’s influence directly or not. It was changing everything, almost faster than she could fathom stamping down upon it. And they’ve never spoken about what’s in his files, handed over to her in the wake of Imperial Intelligence, in the aftermath of Revan. She had known enough, when they stood on Ziost. It had not spared them a violent, jagged reality. No matter her intentions on the matter. “I… admit I haven’t had time to read it in full,” she says carefully. “Good.” He nods, his eyes dropping to his hands. “I… This is.” He clears his throat again, more roughly this time. “I felt this would be better delivered in-person.” Her brow furrows as he hands over the datapad without so much as a hint of expectation. Just an offering and exhausted, hollowed, waiting eyes. She takes the datapad. “I thought I made myself clear, Commander,” she says, stern eyes still on him. “You were supposed to be off-duty.” For barely a moment, a ceding, knowing smile ghosts the corners of his lips before he merely nods again. “You did,” he says evenly. His hands settle in front of him - a bit more easily, more familiar now in full rest. A beat of silence between them before he draws in a slightly deeper breath quietly with a faint bracing of his shoulders and a firmer set in his jaw as he levels his gaze with hers. “I… would like to make that arrangement more… permanent, Minister.” He knows how much I hate that title-

bonus:

i want to shake him and lana's dynamic like a gumball machine.

#put that blonde bitch thru more of the horrors [points at tyr]#dot words #wip wednesday #actually. him and lana. i guess. the horrifying ordeal of knowing ur idealistic ex-agent of a friend and coworker too well. oops?#ch: tyr #swtor fanfic #idk if i should tease by tagging this like that without solid knowledge of my intent to finish or not... sorry friends #anyway good night and good news and all that jazz #my eepy apologies for uh. idk editing is not a rn me i just. needed to get this out of my system so if the tenses are weird ahm. oops?

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page-2-ids · 1 year

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Idealist System genders are genders related to being an [x] idealist/an idealist of [x]. they are connected to [x], [x] aesthetics, idealism aesthetics, idealist aesthetics, and moirehood. these terms should be named as ‘ideal[x] or ‘[x]list’

The colors are inspired by the Anemoire flag and my associations with idealism/idealizing

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en8y · 6 months

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[IMAGE ID: three horizontal flags with nine stripes. the middle stripe is twice as large as the rest of them, which are equally sized. the first flag has these top three colors: dark magenta, medium magenta, and light purple. the second flag has these top three colors: dark purple, dull pink-red, and warm light orange. the third flag has these top three colors: dull blue-purple, medium dull blue, and bright mint green. each flag has these bottom six stripes: dark forest green, off-white, dark forest green, bright blue, medium grey, and nearly-black green. END ID.]

palismonstidaydreamer: a gender connected to being a palismonster daydreamer; this gender is connected to palismonsters, palismonster aesthetics, daydream aesthetics, daydreaming aesthetics, daydreamer aesthetics, and being anemoire!

wonderpalismonstic: a gender connected to being a palismonster wonderer; this gender is connected to palismonsters, palismonster aesthetics, wondering aesthetics, wonderer aesthetics, and anemhood!

idealpalismonstic: a gender connected to being a palismonster idealist; this gender is connected to palismonsters, palismonster aesthetics, idealism aesthetics, idealist aesthetics, and moirehood!

@radiomogai @liom-archive @obscurian @page-2-ids

#palismonstidaydreamer #wonderpalismonstic #idealpalismonstic #daydreamer system #wonderer system #idealist system #palismonster #anemoire #mogai gender #mogai coining #gender coining #tech.png

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gabichanwrites · 10 months

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I think that one of the reasons for my vivid interest in Vinland Saga, outside of how fucking interesting Askeladd is, is the theme of depravity and cruelty. It's not necessarily explored in the Vinland Saga itself but rather when I was writing "We were the fire" and now, when I'm writing my other thing, focused a lot on Askeladd's crew, I was forced to confront the question - how do you write such assholes without making everybody hate them and without making them lose their original character?

And the answer struck me quite suddenly as I came back to the passage from "Fire", Askeladd backstory after Gorm but before Floki. It's not that you go out of your way to be an evil fucker that kills and steals for the act itself - although there for sure are people like that, people that just enjoy hurting others. I, however, think that it's just the fact that it is so much easier to fit in and choose simpler solutions than bother with some moral path.

Especially in the context of Vinland Saga, with it's viking culture, how would you turn out if that was all you have ever known? Could you really turn out better, not give in into those impulses? Would kindness really win that easily over how you were conditioned to be and the simplicity of living like that?

Now that I think about it - Thorfinn was such a cute and happy child originally, wasn't he? And he had Thors "You have no enemies" as his father - and even with that, he so easily fell into Askeladd's lifestyle, into killing for the convenience and achieving that bloody duel with Askeladd. And Askeladd was so proud of his ancestry, he clearly treasured his mother so much so why did he end up the way he was? How could he abandon his legacy, after all this time, and become just a Danish viking that he hated so much?

Well, my perspective on that is in my monster of "We were the Fire" but those are just our main season 1 characters - what about the rest? Was the rest of Askeladd's crew truly so wicked and inhumane from the beginning that they really didn't care? Have they never hesitated, like Olgar, after he witnessed killing, could they truly be just a mindless killing machines? Why did Atli, so against betrayal, a man that was so unsuited to this lifestyle that Askeladd himself told him to never enter the battlefield again, ended up in a crew like Askeladd's? How did Torgrim, how did Ear, how did Bjorn?

I don't know, this may seem like such an obvious thing to ponder but it really hit me and, while I wanted this post to be maybe a bit more cohesive and to the point, now that I'm here I'm actually really unsure of how to put my thoughts into words. But, if you are interested in my writing, know that "The Blue of her Eyes" is getting a whole ass theme now and my other project also got a kickstart, now that I have such a clear vision.

So, yeah. Chapter 2 of "Blue of her Eyes" should actually come out soon, I am really motivated to write now.

#askeladd #vinland saga #bjorn #ear vinland saga #vinland saga torgrim #vinland saga Atli #a lot of vinland saga thoughts #kinda obvious thoughts maybe but #there is just so much wonders going through my head #how hard was it to be so idealistic for Thors #and he was so strong #how were people so much weaker #so much less suited to fighting the system #how were they supposed to upstand the moral ground?#and once they knew the way to greatness #how could they resist coming back to the killing for wealth glory and respect?#how long can you resist depravity when it's all that surrounds you?#how many are strong enough to stand nobly against such normalized curelty and violence?#would we really be the heros if we were in their place?

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