The Magnus Archives?

A Rising Fever

It's a common fear, to ruminate over the idea of falling ill to some incurable disease and watching as your body succumbs to the sheer weight of said symptoms. It rises up from the pit of your stomach and burns the back of your throat like vomit the longer you think about it. Web MD’s symptom checker, or what some like to playfully call “Doctor Google” is a temptation that's difficult to not indulge in. I know– we've all fallen for it, at one time or another. Sometimes I'll sit there, reading rare conditions, one after another and feeling my anxiety heighten more and more until it hits a climax. Things like skin necrosis, or heart failure, or waterborne illnesses- it can happen to anyone, at any time. Of course there’s factors that can put you at higher risk, but the fact that you can never be sure is enough to keep you up all night. 

The next thing I know, I've gone and sanitized my whole house in fear of germs. 

Hypochondriasis is classified as a simple anxiety disorder born from paranoia, but how many times have people been written off as being hypochondriacs when they actually were ill? There is a high probability that the percentage is substantial... Enough for it to be concerning, at least. 

What is it that really stokes the flames of your mounting dread when it comes to your immune system coming under attack? Is it the ever present fear of death that we're always running from one day at a time? Or is it the concern that your body will never recover, forever changed by this virus that has invaded your very soul?

A Dream About A Moose

I would like preface before we begin with the details of exactly what I dreamt the other night, that I am uncertain if this is in fact a memory or if it was simply a stress dream brought on by my anticipation of finals, and the steady balance of the different aspects of my life that all come to a head around the holidays. This is going to be a fairly dark read. It taps into the very real horrors of the waking world and yet it was abstract, and so odd in the way these concepts presented themselves. So if you're easily disheartened by themes of body horror, hunting, and losing your sense of self, it's best you turn away from this particular post. Last of all–

I'm aware how bad this looks for me if it is a memory. I'm aware I may lose some friends I've made online, but after talking it over with someone who gave me a new perspective to look at it from, I've decided I'm going to share anyway.

 I remember it started off with me feeling dazed, like when you're lost in thought for a while and suddenly your focus is violently broken. The room was so dark that the shadows stretched and overlapped with each other, making ominous pulling figures that looked like they could snatch you at a moment’s notice. 

The ceiling fan is nothing more than a dark star, churning the heavy, high tension that's in the room, a tension I almost don't understand…almost, until I saw her. She looked to be in her thirties, a mousey little thing with beige brown hair in messy curls around her crown. Her gaze is locked on me, and she is terrified. I mean it makes sense that this dream person would be scared; a random person showed up in her room, but even stranger is that she doesn't make a single move to get up and confront me, make a run for it, or show any self preservation. She just lays there, head propped up by an almost absurd amount of silken pillows, her eyes wide and nearly unblinking– like she's afraid if she does, something awful will happen.

It's then that I realize with a start that she should be scared. I'm here for a reason, and I'm only delaying the natural progression of this dream. I read a study once that said you cannot create a new face in a dream. Every face that appears in a dream is one you once seen and retained in the subconscious parts of your mind. Yet she seemed so real, and so distant in my memories. So I move closer. I don't know why, but I'm waiting for some sort of revelation. Like she’ll suddenly remember me, or maybe she'll tell me how she found herself in such a predicament in the first place. Most of all, I'm holding on for her words. I need it, like a damn second wind. I feel it like an ache in the pit of my stomach, and only she can make it right, if she just tells me why I'm here. 

Why am I here, Cassandra? 

Why am I here? 

Instead, she just sucks in a sharp breath, in that way that makes the collarbone have more depth and prominence. I can see it in her eyes, she knows why I'm here. She stares up at me, her pupils trembling in the brown iris, the pallor of her face. I reach up my hand to her face- and really it's a wonder how I'm so calm during all this. I look at my hands.. I don't know if they're my hands. They look wrong. They don't look human, but of course I don't even have time to panic over such trivial things, when more important things are right in the room with me. So I gently wipe the stray tear that's running down her face, and then, I jam my finger right into the pupil of her eye, and watch my fingers melt down into the dark space, far off into fragmented realities we dare not revisit, for fear that history could repeat itself.

And then just like that, I'm in the woods. Have you ever heard of Golden hour? It's around the time when the sun is level with your eyes and everything is awash in yellow. It's actually one of the better times to hunt deer because deer often use the sun's position to their advantage. Deer will move into the setting/rising sun so any potential danger that could be dangerous ahead of them is silhouetted. I knew this because I was a deer hunter, and in fact I took so much pride in being a female hunter that I had several bumper stickers on my car referring to this fact.

..But that wasn't right… I am not a deer hunter, and I'm certainly not… but I look at my shaking slender hands, with chipped nude nail polish, and a wedding ring, and it's all true. More importantly, I am without my hunting rifle, and I'm running from something, farther and farther into unfamiliar territory. The woods are quiet, so deafeningly quiet, but somehow I was certain that I had not lost whatever was chasing me. My heart racing, I look around for somewhere to hide, and am only greeted by a vast sea of thin pines, with sparse branches. There is nowhere to hide. This is the last gasp of breath I give, while looking down the barrel of a shotgun. 

But I'm not- Cassandra’s not ready to die. She watched her husband die to that thing, that stalks the treeline, that may have once called itself a moose. She wasn't going to let it kill her too, not without a fight…but the hunting rifle was gone, and I was greatly outmatched in terms of strength. Have you ever seen a normal, average moose angry? Do you even know how much they weigh? I feel my breath hitch in the back of my throat in a sort of frenzied crescendo, when my eyes finally lock on a smattering of large, jagged rocks there hidden amongst the trees, on the incline of the mountain. Cassandra was definitely small enough to squeeze between the rocks. All she needed was to arm herself. So that's what she did, she frantically did a once over the forest floor before finally grabbing a sturdy enough fallen branch, and wedged herself in between the rocks, sitting low with her knees up, her back pressed against the rocks as she tried to control her breathing.

Somehow she knew the moose was watching her, she could feel its sour breath on her soul, hunting her, ready to take back from her what she had taken from the forest’s precious ecosystem. As dusk settled into a burning red in the last dying light, the malnourished outline of the moose took form. The moose was malnourished, yes. That much is true, but it was large, and it's limbs seem to bend in ways a moose’s legs should not be able to, the knees going back farther and farther as it drunkenly stumbled amongst the trees, eyes glowing in it's feverish search for Cassandra, who was now holding up her stick in a position to strike. 

The blood of her husband still stained the moose, the matted coat clotted in dark red and made a macabre crown around his head. The beast’s lips curled into a snarl revealing the sharp teeth of a carnivore, much like a big cat’s or even a bear. The moose began to circle the boulders, nose snuffling as it took in the bursting embers of Cassandra's mounting dead, and as the moose slipped out of her line of vision between the gap in the rocks, time seemed to stop. Every second seemed an eternity, as twilight slipped slowly into night like a forming bruise. I watch the sun set, as the eye of our tormenter eclipses our view, having finally found us-

And then Cassandra is screaming me awake, screaming as if she was right back in that moment of being prey to something bigger than she could ever dream of being. She knows screaming is her only chance of being rid of me, and she's apparently right because that's when I woke up from the dream, having felt like she was so very real. Maybe it was bit naive, but I actually had to sit up and look to make sure I was in my room and not that dream. There was this sour acid taste in the back of my mouth too- and I downed about three glasses of water right there at the kitchen sink that night. 

This dream has left me shaken and lost. That's not the right word though, lost. I know exactly where I am, but I'm so fragmented, so stretched thin that it can hardly count that I am here, right now. All I have is my words, and I hope that's enough for you.

It has come to my attention that simply having one post on my blog, without posting anything else to get my account name out there or to at least allow others a tell on my personality in order to see if I am familiar to them, is overall counterproductive to my blog. So, I will occasionally post on here. I can't guarantee that the majority of them will be fictionkin related either-- so look forward to that dashboard whiplash showing up on your screen.

I'm pretty sure the weight of a cat laying on my lap would fix me right about now. That or to just be put in the medieval torture rack until my back problems are fixed- it's a 50/50 split on my hierarchy of needs

A Small Infodump about Spider Venom

Look, I know the doctor said I need to take it easy and not work myself up but-

Is it really that bad that I'm currently  compiling a list of different spider venoms and their myriad of effects, along with categorizing different species of spiders to what venom they inflict? I believe a wise man once inquired, "Can't a girl have hobbies?" . Of course we all know the big four categories–

There is Phospholipase D, a venom that interacts with different cellular membrane components, degrades phospholipids, and generates bioactive mediators. This can cause damage to the tissue through necrosis, as well as blistering near the bite. The recluse spider is one of the most well known arachnids to have this venom.

Alpha Latrotoxin, stimulates uncontrolled exocytosis of neurotransmitters from nerve terminals, causing paresthesia, seizures and myocarditis, which always brings up the image of the infamous black widow spider, with her striking hourglass abdomen.

The Delta Atracotoxin wielded by my personal favorite- the black sydney funnel web spider (did you know that a sydney funnel web spider is capable of biting through a human fingernail?) slows the inactivation of sodium ion channels in autonomic and motor neurons. This can cause circulation failure as well as excess salivation, nausea and disorientation…

And of course the less talked about PhTx 3-4, a calcium channel blocking toxin that also stimulates the nervous system, causing nausea, hypertension, and change in arterial flow in parts of the body.

 There's just something about insects and arachnids and all of it as a whole that peaks my curiosity, that runs borderline close to familiarity. I mean, how about I turn the topic at hand onto you all– anyone who would like to share their favorite bugs and why, feel free.

Better yet, why not make it a poll?

I Have Never Been A Hero

I’ve had time to reflect upon my dream, and it has led me to some revelations about my own nature, and what lines I’m willing to cross in order to find the truth I’m so desperately craving. I think that the reason the dream bothered me so much is that I don’t know if I would’ve done differently if I had another chance. I have never been a hero. 

I wanted to once, you know–

Even before I had so many wonderful tumblr users trying to help me find my identity, even before I put it out there into the universe with absolute certainty that I was a villain, people have always compared me to the antagonist of the story. 

It's a vibe I'm giving or something I'm doing, maybe it's the sins I carry on my back. 

I remember reading all these books as a child, and even when I outgrew them and I'd be loathe to admit to what would indefinitely ruin the academic image I have so painstakingly built up around me like a shell-  the classic fairytale story always held a special place in my heart. 

I would sit there with my eyes scanning over every line, rereading the best parts, the ones that really made you feel like you were there with the protagonist, and I would think, 

‘I want to be the hero. I want to save the princess from a tower and defeat the big bad and live happily ever after!’ …but I don't think I'm that. These things that I do, digging into the depths of people’s anxieties, and breathing them in as if it were my own.. I don’t think it’s a noble cause, to tear into other’s fears in hopes of finding my own closure. So I’m not a hero. 

People seldom are, it's rare to find that kind of excellence out in the world but even with all the signs pointing that I'm a villain, or a monster, or god forbid a world ender– it is flattering that so many people reached out to me, when my mood has been so low. There is something about hearing about so many wonderful stories of others that keeps me tethered, and for that I'm grateful to all of you. The beauty in your experiences is what makes everything worth it- both your triumph and strife. So please, bare with me. Even if I am a villain.

Go on, take a guess which category I fall under..

like/reblog if u are:

a bitch

a bastard

an all around fool

an omnipresent all-powerful being

a sparrow

c̵͙̳͕̈͛ụ̷̔r̸̗͎̽̓͗͜s̴̨̈́̿͘e̸͍̰̜͊̈́d̵̛̫̙͍͝͝

capable of moving at immense, incomprehensible speeds

an eldritch being

no one will know which one u chose! :D

hello !!!! mod blue here from the noncanon kin blog :))) i know mod star is going to/already has sent an ask to you as well but i wanted to extend my support as well :)

im big into Horror Media in general so if you Are set on trying to find a source, ill gladly help you out if i can :)) oc kin is Also a very interesting and probable Answer, but i know it can be hard to come to terms with things such as that, especially if you dont Already know people who experience it. ive been identifying and navigating my personal fictionkin experience since i was around 14-16, im 21 now. i understand how confusing and frustrating it can be. i wish you the Best of luck, my friend :) if you’d like to reach out at all, you can message me over at @galactic-inhabitants

much love, my guy <3 i hope you can find some answers <3

You both have been so very kind to me, I don't know how to compensate you for your time but it means a lot. I may just have some questions to ask you, sometime in the near future so consider yourself warned

any familiarity wi the Fate anime and game series? Fate/stay night is sort of the main entry point, visual novel just got an official localization after decades. You might also vibe with Fate/Zero a lot.

As a matter of fact, I believe I have been recommended Fate/ Stay Night series a while back. There are some themes that had caught my attention, namely the themes of time travel, I can see why this was a suggestion. Also, I'd like to apologize for the delay in getting back to you, I appreciate your guidance greatly

https://www.tumblr.com/imitative-magpie/772060837922979840/hello-there-my-family-needs-to-leave-gaza-out-of

magicalmilkshakecrown / Irine Temoi is a documented scammer profiting off of the genocide. some usernames they have previously used to run this scam are reallyuniquedaze, herunknownwolf22, slowlydeliciouscrusade, futuristicglittermilkshake, slowlywisesong, darkkoalalight, mortallypurplebread, foggyblazekitten, beautifulsheepblaze, atomicfoxdaze, scentedfarttree, severetyrantllama, joyfulpostnight, zealoussublimefart, massivepersonagardener, and countless others.

some previous names they have used on their paypal accounts linked through these tumblr blogs have been Kipkosgei Cheruiyot, Jeff Owino, Titus Muhitsi, Iyvon Wabuyele, and Hezron Onyango

https://www.tumblr.com/kyra45/751911792270278656/hello-there-my-family-needs-to-leave-gaza-out-of

https://www.tumblr.com/average-transfem-robotgirl/748870367236521984/hello-there-my-family-needs-to-leave-gaza-out-of

https://www.tumblr.com/anonthescambuster/761993746326994944

here you can see another proven tumblr scammer, stupendoustyphoonhottub, also using this exact same linktree and Irene Temoi paypal account that magicalmilkshakecrown now uses: https://archive.is/YKTIC

would you mind deleting their scam from your blog, or clearly labeling it as a scam so it doesn't spread to others? please remember you can use the tumblr search box to search the username/paypal account name/text used by people asking for money to check if they’ve been proven to be a scammer

Thank you for bringing this to my attention, anon.