"the Magnus Archives Sounds Cool! What Are The Content Warnings?"

being so fr when I say that transmisogyny has put feminism back like 50 years

abled bodied people also need to understand that, for physically disabled people resting isn't "free time" that you can use up with assigning us tasks or duties because you're busy. it's an essential part of managing disability and some of us have a hard limit that we're avoiding by having days where we do nothing.

Please, please never do this. It was alright on its own I guess, it wasn't great warm but it wasn't the worst. Please, please never add orange juice and rockstar to it. The orange Gilgamesh is the love child of the potion of instant spoiled milk post and the white Gilgamesh post, and I wish this fucked up baby got aborted

Y'all remember the white Gilgamesh? I'm going to make something worse, something Better; the orange Gilgamesh. I will report back when I have acquired the ingredients.

Chat this might be real

At this point I need to tape a disclaimer to my forehead that says “if I become close enough friends to u I will have a crush on u at some point” bc I’m just a massive lesbian like that. It’s nothing personal

Vent Post

I am tired, and I am sore. My bones creak with every movement, my body throbs with the pain of torn muscles, poorly circulated blood and old wounds. My heart aches for all the siblings and niblings we've lost along the way, for those buried in graves marked with poisonous names. I am fighting, every day I sit down and I fight for my people, no matter how much pain I'm in I cannot and will not stop until I am sure that if not me, at least those who come after me will live a happy life, free from oppression. I am fighting, but I am tired. For now, I rest. Tomorrow I will pick myself up and continue the fight, and then I will rest. Do not forget that in order to keep fighting, you also must rest. Stay safe out there, take care of yourself, and above all else, keep fighting.

Ah, it’s too late to post this on Halloween.  But here is a little story about ghosts, and roommates, and roommates who are ghosts.

daily amnesia in DID is something i don't see talked about that much, i see regular amnesia (ie not being able to remember years of your life, traumatic memories etc) talked about but never the daily things.

daily amnesia is on a day to day basis never being able to remember important things, did i take my medicine this morning? did i shower yesterday? have i eaten yet? what have i been doing for the past hour? what was i supposed to do today?

daily amnesia REALLY fucking sucks because whenever you start suffering you remember every other time you've been suffering and just scold yourself for not getting help and not getting better - but when the moment it's over? it's completely gone from your memory. it's so much suffering and you're so stuck because how can you ever get help for something you can't remember? you're always in a constant state of 'feeling fine' and when you end up getting help and going to therapy there's nothing to talk about because there's nothing you remember.

every day is groundhog day where you are forced against your will to repeat it over and over for god knows how long.

TW: Death, Gore & Body Horror

The strike rings true, screams erupting around the battlefield as her blood pours from her chest and down the sword in her heart, staining her coat red. Pearl's lifeless corpse falls limp off the blade, roars of victory erupting from her enemies as they flee to celebrate.

Cleo turns to BigB and begins to plan, on the back foot now without their warrior. Only Scott pauses to feel, his cold withered oak heart creaking in his chest, orange glowing bright through this shirt. Orange ichor falls from his glowing eyes and he collapses next to her corpse, tears splashing against her bones. Her chest torn open, cold and lifeless heart bare and bisected for all to see. Bile rises in his throat, or it would if his body were anything but cold grey flesh and white bark; The infection denying him the basic grief response. His mind races, wishing he'd done something, wishing he'd taken that blade instead of her.

An idea forms, and he draws his blade, cutting his chest open, the lifeless bark makes no resistance. Cleo and BigB's frantic chatter of battle plans has long since turned to static in his ears, the only sound he hears the rhythmic creaking of his heart in his hand. He cuts into her, pulling her heart from behind her ribs, her blood soaking his hands once more, and suddenly he's back on the hill in double life, standing atop a pile of TNT, staring into her eyes so full of hate and love, lighting the match. He drops the match, it's orange glow illuminating her empty chest cavity as it soaks up her blood, skin turning, no growing grey.

Bark forms and hardens, veins filled with radiant orange. The steady creaking of his heart reverberating through her chest, her eyes flicker open, golden glow shining on Scott's tear stained face. She reaches a cold, lifeless hand to his cheek and wipes his tears as he sobs, wrapping his arms around her with no care for her blood soaking his clothes once again. The steady beating of his, no, their heart fills each other's existence, that cursed string tying together once more, the lifeline forming between them. Slowly, her flesh knits back together, dried out bark growing across the gaping wound.

The words tumble from his bloodstained lips before he can stop them, the words she'd been begging to hear for so long. "I'm so sorry Pearl". She hugs him back, their bones creaking and bark grinding, they couldn't care less. Silently, they vowed to win this or die trying, together.