Stained Glass Lamps

Hey there, I'm just tossing an idea out. But your memory-vibes personally remind me of the Zero Escape series. Spoilers incoming of course, but I know you don't mind: In the first one, a major character creates situations that do indeed cause a lot of suffering for people she deeply cares about in order to create a timeline where she survives. In the second game, she is revealed to have done something similar, but this time in order to try and save the world (more or less?) but in doing so, damns countless iterations of people she cares about, and herself, to doomed timelines. It's rather bleak. The third game takes place between the first two chronologically, but I have not personally played it.

So, I'm sort of suggesting Akane Kurashiki, but other characters from the series like Sigma, Phi, and Aoi might be worth looking into. Sorry if someone's already brought this game series up- feel free to ignore this if so!

This ... Actually explains a lot of the things I've been feeling as of late. Really-- I can't thank you enough for reaching out, I'll have to look a bit more into the source material, of course. And I'm also sorry for the late reply. I've been in the hospital the last 11 days, and I've just gotten home. (I'm planning to explain everything that happened there more in depth because I had some revelations but I didn't want to be rude and not answer)

About Problematic Kin

While I take this brief interlude on my blog, I would like to make something abundantly clear that I have had others inquiring about-- I will never turn away problematic or ‘antagonist’ fictionkin and fictives. 

I have seen you pushed to the wayside without anyone allowing you to get your foot in the door, or taking the time to understand your story. It's a shame because I have met so many wonderful kins who hesitate to interact with their own communities, and if I shut them out, I would have missed out on some genuinely wonderful interactions.

 To the HABITs of Everyman HYBRID, the Andys and Ashleys of The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, the Kevins of Welcome to Nightvale,  and the Jonah Magnuses of The Magnus Archives, I want YOUR STORY. I want to understand your experiences, your memories but most of all I want you to know that you aren't alone. Whether you're a slasher from a horror film or a protagonist from a source material that has gained a reputation.. I would like to hear you out, to understand you in your entirety because I too have been marked by something horrific, and it has defined me my whole life. 

I want you to know that while it may feel impossible to stop that feeling, maybe we can all peer into the unknown together, and find joy in this life in spite of previous ones. 

A Dream About A Home Invasion

There has been something that I have been purposely leaving out for a while, unsure how to touch upon the subject in my documentation in these dreams but I feel as though it is important to mention now. Let’s first start with the facts;

This stage of life is not the first time that I have experienced recurring dreams. In fact, the strange occurrences in my blog have been something that has impacted me in various shades through the entirety of my life, taking many forms. Through fears of fire or fears of the sea and above all, fear of what will happen at the end of the world. One of these fears is what I’ll become when the end inevitably comes for me, and yanks me out of this shallow grave I’ve made for myself..

Sometimes, when I begin my dreams, somebody else is already there. This happened tonight, with me standing in the bedroom of Mindy Hason, and finding a dark, shadowy figure occupying the corner of the bedroom where I should have resided. Long, scraggly dangling limbs, one hand horribly scarred and mangled, the marks tight and mottled that spattered up both arms and a hollow gap in their side where the wind of their ragged breathing seemed to be sucked through. I could not meet their gaze, and yet I felt it, something calculating that sent a shiver down my spine. All I could think of was what that one- whatever they were, had said.. about people being chewed up and swallowed by the mouth of fear. Is this something I have to look forward to becoming? Will I one day have my own hands scarred and broken from tapping into too many realities? We’re both here for the same reason, we’re here for Mindy. 

I take a step towards her, and the shadow does too. Well, what do I do now? Is he heading towards her, or is he heading towards me?? Am I ready to die for a quick fix? I glance back at Mindy, who is now crying softly, shaking while she lays in bed. This was not ideal, there was a pattern we were supposed to follow here, and this was ruining everything! I take another step forward, so does he. I pause, he does too. Mindy makes a noise in the back of her throat, her collarbone trembling under the weight of her fears. It’s then that I decide to make a lunge for her, reaching out for her eyes as the mysterious guest rushes forward as well, both of us bleeding down into her sockets. 

Something clicks and whines, but Mindy doesn’t hear it. She lives out on the countryside, on her own. Years passed since she wrote her novel, ‘A Lovers Glance’, and while she does sometimes find herself feeling lonely, the solitude of her two story colonial feels safe. It feels like something she can depend on.. Mindy Hason lives alone. 

Friends from back in highschool, colleagues from her previous job before she blew up– Mindy lost touch with them all once her book rose in the ranks of popularity. Out on the countryside it's all a distant dream, and so when Mindy heard a knock on her door that September afternoon, she was surprised, and even more so when she  got up to see a milkman. A genuine milkman, donned in all white attire like in the 20s. She can see him there through the window on her way to the front door but as she makes her way to the door she pauses, taking a step backwards into the hall.

 The man leans over and peers in through the window, cupping his hands up to the window and looking in, and at last I gain a proper look at the milkman, his grin twisted and tight against his face, his eyes dark, almost shadows on his face like his flesh was simply a mask. The house remains peaceful, quiet. Even with the gentle sounds of the countryside, nothing can shake the unadulterated terror that is ringing in my ears as Mindy backs towards the kitchen to grab her phone and call the police. She backs through the doorway, reaches her hand along the counter.. The counter is smooth, bare. There is no phone to save Mindy Hason from her fate. I really wish that I had found the wherewithal to ask a question or to break myself out of the fear that was holding me down, but something in the eyes of that man just wasn’t alive, and that terrified me. It felt like a shell, or a puppet being manipulated by something insidious that I couldn’t comprehend. 

Through all this, that was when the second milk man appeared at the back screen room door, reaching for the handle, and Mindy sprints across the kitchen in leaps and bounds just to secure and lock the door in mere fractions of seconds, only to find herself face to face with this uncanny humanoid who stands at her back porch, grinning up at her with plump cartoonishly stretched cheeks. From the front of the house, she hears the door rattle and click, and the chase of running to the front door begins yet again. 

How long were we there? Back and forth, from door to door, desperately relocking and trying to keep our last means of safety unbreeched? She knows she's slowing the inevitable, but she has to resist these monsters anyway she can. She saw their eyes and she knows they aren't human. 

As she heads back for the screen door, he heart drops in her stomach to see the shorter of the two milk men had now found his way into her porch, waddling to the kitchen at an unnervingly calm pace. It's when the front door swings open from behind Mindy, that I wake in a cold sweat wondering just who the mysterious figure in my dreams is, and why he's trying to enter memories like me. 

good timezone, jules! i Peeked at your updated possible sources list & i have been inspired to suggest some more :)

if you watched hazbin hotel, you should watch its sister show helluva boss (very much free to watch entirely on youtube). if you watched the hot trash show that is diabolik lovers (i say this with love. i've been a fan of dialovers since im 14 <3), you should try the equally hot garbage that is vampire knight (also with love, i have been a bigger fan since im also 14)

unrelated to The List, i suggest you take a peek at neon genesis evangelion (both the original anime + end of evangelion [very important!] & the 4 rebuild movies) because it's psychological disasters personified & tbh i feel like you'd like it, & on a similar vein, land of the lustrous/houseki no kuni (SPECIFICALLY the manga, which you can find for free online, because that's where all the shit happens). evangelion is my favorite anime & hnk is my favorite manga actually :) they're both very madoka magica in the sense that it starts out cheery & suddenly everything that could possibly go wrong goes wrong. & even if you dont get any kin feels from them i think you'd really enjoy the plot!

Thank you so much for the recommendations, I'll look into both the source adjacent ones and the ones for general enjoyment alike. I'm glad to hear from you again, as always

i think i responded to something you posted somewhere but i figured i'd just reach out here instead!

from my own kin stuff and source and everything, i don't know if you've gone through the magnus archives before but what you're saying sounds a lot like someone deep within the beholding to me. that need to watch, to know things even if it destroys you or others, the intake of others stories. it reminds me of jon honestly with the guilt aspect of it, or maybe even jonah or elias, maybe the archivist from the magnus protocol.

either way, you're always welcome to reach out and talk about your own experience or process of figuring things out!

-marcus keay (non-cannon magnus archive)

@the-neon-attic

I've been hearing that name come up a lot actually, among a few others. The need to watch in spite of the destruction it brings is a good way to put this feeling, you certainly hit the nail on the head there.. There's something more to this though, it's parasitic in nature. I feel as though I'm filling a hollow part of me that's raw and hungry with the mismatched parts of others' memories just to feel whole, and I never have a way to compensate them for this favor. Not in a way that really matters, or makes up for the damage. If that is what the beholding feels like, then I might just have a few questions for you.

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Oh. My. God. That’s it. That’s the copypasta that haunted my childhood back when I was still naive and gullible. I remember when copypastas had hit the absolute peak of popularity in the early 2000’s, often posted in comment sections and on message board websites. I must’ve been about 10 years old when I’d first seen that block of text show up under a youtube video I should not have been watching (My parents often left me with my grandmother, who tried and failed to keep me from viewing unsuitable media). I remember reading it, and immediately saying to myself how stupid it was… And then, because I didn’t have an account to forward the message to, I lived my life under the impression that my days were numbered for 2 straight years. 

There were rituals, and bargaining involved- I would write long winded letters to the ghost from the story, arguing why I should live, and then leaving them on my bedside table. Of course when anyone asked what I was doing I’d lie and say I was working on a short story to save face and not admit 

1.) That I was viewing horror media I shouldn’t have, and

2.) That I was gullible enough to be scared of such things

And now when I read it back I can see why; This is utter nonsense! All that time, I could’ve washed my hair in peace without being afraid of being pulled down the drain as a child, gosh I feel like a chump.

yeah sorry if it's out of your style

Huh.

peeks head in here

how's things going? haven't heard from you in a bit.

hope you're ok and making progress on your kin journey!

-the neon attic

Thank you for checking in on me, Neon Attic. I appreciate the message. In truth, I may have found myself a bit confused as of lately, and accidently made a kinfirmation announcement which may have turned out to be false.. Again. Now that it’s brought up however, I would like to make an invitation to any of the following fictionkin or fictives;

*Anyone from the source The Mandela Catalogue, especially the alternates

*Anyone from the Everyman HYBRID source

*Those who are from Marble Hornets

*Anyone from The Magnus Archives, but Especially any Jons or Elias’’

Some of my questions will pertain to dynamics and relationships in the sources, the more traumatic experiences within your source, and possible mental/phantom shifts you've experienced in relation to your identity. I feel I could probably gain a great deal of insight from these sources specifically at the moment, so if you are interested in reaching out, please answer this kincall. My dms are always open.

Do You Remember The Time You Got Lost In The Supermarket?

You were a child then, so your memories are muddled. Your perception is warped- of course it is. It starts off simple, with you wandering off. Or maybe you looked away for just a moment, and when your concentration was broken from what you were looking at, you suddenly found yourself alone. 

However you got yourself in this position, the outcome is the same; You've been condemned to an eternity of wandering aisles in hopes of finding familiarity where there is none, as the crowds of tall faceless- nameless strangers rush by, making you feel more and more claustrophobic by the second. You have no hope, it's been crushed into tiny pieces under the abstract concept of setting and its permanence. 

I would like to propose the idea that maybe, not knowing your identity but still being plagued by memories is similar to being lost in the supermarket. You feel as though you'll be in an endless free fall. I know it seems impossible to stop all of this confusion and frustration–

But this downward spiral doesn't have to be forever. We have a beautiful community, of those just waiting to take your hand and guide you out. I think the alterhuman community is a second chance for us to find ourselves. We've just got to be brave enough to admit that we were lost in the first place.

also small side note... is the "is fear close relative or truth" thing a twenty one pilots reference?

-marcus keay (non-cannon tma)

Oh, you noticed that. I hadn't exactly phrased the lyrics the same way, but I guess I'm more obvious than I thought–

It's funny, when people ask about my favorite genre of music, I always say classical in subconscious hopes of looking mature. It's almost out of reflex now, but I do enjoy Twenty One Pilots. There's a few lyrics in that song that resonated with me;

‘I could take the high road, but I know that I'm going low,’

‘I created this world to feel some control, I could destroy it if I want, so I sing Sahlo Folina’

It's that feeling of staring into the abyss, or really crossing the line in order to take vengeance.  It's the feeling of hitting a point of no return, and being resigned to the fact I may need to let myself become dangerous just to survive.