Not Sure How To Start This Right But Hi There! Im Mod Star From The Non Canon Kin Blog :) I Really Hope

A Dream About An Archeologist

“I had a nightmare about being an archeologist a few nights ago.” The world falls dead silent as I wait for a reply. They’re typing back, I can see those three little dots dancing at the bottom of the screen. “An archeologist? That’s an interesting career for sure. How’d the nightmare go?”

“The beginnings of the dream were inconsequential, mostly going about my job at the digging site. It was actually a calm sort of pleasant in that part of the dream. The tools seemed a bit dated.. But it was when the team uncovered, in their excavation, two bodies that things took a horrific turn into nightmare territory.” I paused for a moment, thinking over how to continue with just what I saw.

“.. I’m not sure what you’re comfortable with, so I’ll just leave this part censored. From how deep down in the earth they were, it was impossible someone had buried them there, and the earth we had dug up was unturned when we started this project. People were panicking, calling for 999, and here’s something more horrific,

“The reason I bring up them being too far down, and the earth being unturned is how fresh the bodies were. Under all that dirt, their skin was soft and blueish. Bloated from the very beginnings of decomposition. Her hands were gripped into his arms so hard they broke flesh, and the most terrifying part for me was their eyes. They were wide open, allowing the dirt in.

“Their mouths, their faces still twisted by fright in death, they were alive when they somehow found themselves under all that earth, and that terrified me because by all means, I have no idea how they had gotten there.”

 I lean back, looking at what I copied and pasted. There’s guilt here. It's an unusual thing, the need to tell people about what I’ve seen in the dreams– a new development that makes my stomach roll. I don’t like having to spread this feeling, that’s not me.. But fear can really turn me into a monster when it’s left unattended. After a moment of waiting, the weight of what I wrote suddenly hits me somewhere deep beneath my ribs, and I feel anxious. 

“Julius, we think you really oughta take a look into The Magnus Archives; https://the-magnus-archives.fandom.com/wiki/The_Buried.” I’m sulking. I’m a grown man, and I’m sulking over this reply. Something about that source recommendation makes me uneasy and I don’t know why. Shouldn’t I want an answer? Don’t I want to understand? Before I can dwell on this factor any longer, I realize that they are still typing.. And what they write sends a chill down my spine all at once. 

“We’ve seen this,

These people buried deep beyond the limits. 

They were in space, and they met with a fate worse than death… and then they weren't in space anymore.

They were sent home.”

Does Your Fear Guide You in Your Discovery of Identity?

I find the neurobiological response to fear so incredibly intriguing, especially seeing what things affect individuals versus others. There's such a wide variety to choose from- just search up any old list of phobias on the internet and you'll clearly see that. 

It’s fundamental, a deeply wired reaction in our bodies, evolved over the history of life as we know it in order to protect organisms against perceived threat to their integrity of existence.

The amygdala and hippocampus are mostly responsible– the hippocampus processing the perceived threat, and the amygdala givinging that adrenaline rush that we all crave so desperately. This high arousal state can be both from fear or excitement. I don't think it's that much of a leap to suggest that fear and excitement are both connected and therefore can both derive satisfaction. 

More importantly, fear can actually help aid your memory. This is of course only to a certain extent, as prolonged distress of high quantities can actually lead to memory loss in self protection, but I would like to theorize for a moment that the reason that so many of those that have contacted me so far, have had memories after viewing the more high tension scenes from their source material is because of the stress neurotransmitter norepinephrine, promoting the formation of fear based memories by stimulating inhibitory neurons in the amygdala while we are so engrossed in the content. 

The fear feels familiar because it is. It's been living dormant inside you all along. That being said, I would like to inquire about the most distressing moment for you when viewing your own source material? How did it relate to your identity, and did it lead to memories related to said scene afterwards? 

And of course, my dms are always open..

(x)

I think I understand what you mean, Jay. Or at the very least, the spirit of it. As alterhumans, we have found ourselves in such unlikely circumstances. Experiencing these memories that shake the very core of our realities, and then you’re expected to go on with life like everything is fine- because it is for everyone else around you.

You’re feeling the echoes of something a lifetime ago, and there is all this tension building up in your body, like you’re waiting for a punch that never comes.. And of course, when you try to explain this people will give their unwanted opinions of “seeking help”, or whatever else the anti otherkins say nowadays..

Sometimes when we’re sitting with that feeling of something being so terribly wrong in our heads, it’s only natural to want something to confirm what we’ve been feeling, if only to let go of the breath we’ve been holding for so long. I’m sure there’s something freeing in that, as you’d put it, because once you let go of that breath, it’s like you can finally let your life begin. You can actually experience things properly– presently, and in the moment rather than just feeling like you’re sitting on stand by for a beckon call. Life will come for us though, and it’ll pick us up off our feet. The adrenaline will be so overwhelming that we know for certain that’s why we’re here, and it’s what we’ve been searching for.

 I don’t think that’s unreasonable at all, Jay.

Sometimes, I almost wish I was in danger, if that makes sense. On the run, or being hunted by some entity, shit I wouldn't even mind an end of the world scenario. This boring circle of work, home, work, home with the occasional money spending to waste time can make me feel trapped, desperate for a crumb of adrenaline. Real adrenaline, the kind that sends you racing back out of the woods. I want to fight to protect a tight knit group, all scared but undoubtedly more alive than they've ever been. I want to sleep under the stars, be shocked by how vibrant the night sky is without all those lights. I want true freedom in a time where we're all chained to our desks, fucking explodes myself

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

Final Conclusions;

I bludgeoned sobriety with a bat, and left it dead in the woods. It died an ugly death, kicking and screaming as I tore it limb from limb- because I am so hungry. I can’t help it, I don’t want to know what I am without someone here to latch onto the memories of. I can’t help it, this is who I’ll always be. So now that you know I’m trapped, let's get into our findings;

Within  the very beginnings of the experiment, I found that when I received notifications in my dms, I felt a nervous energy. It was almost an impulsive reflex, telling me to answer my dms. That I was breaking the rules of social interaction. According to my two observers that I unwittingly roped into the experiment, they had said that my urge to return back to these behaviors showed an overall consistency, or as Steph lovingly put it, “(...)You were crawling out of your skin since day one.”. 

That being said, I had noticed a steady increase of sporadic behavior from that point on, including thrill seeking urges that included a momentary fantasy about going bungee jumping or taking a detour into the woods on my way home from work to scream until my lungs give out. These urges were accompanied by dietary changes, cravings for starch based comfort foods that suggested that I was under stress.

 The idea that I was under stress is further backed up by the observations of my aforementioned participants of choice, one of which (Evan, the problem child) had brought to attention my discomfort multiple times throughout the experiment. 

At the end of the experiment, it had been brought to my attention by Steph that, “You’re trying to collect and address primarily qualitative data with quantitative methodologies and as a result are losing out on a lot of useful information, both in this experiment and general interview practices,” which was a great point, seeing as throughout the entirety of my blog, I've been trying to assign tangible and numerical findings to something as intimate as kin memories.

 Now that I'm back, I plan to remedy this, starting with openly sharing about what makes me experience mental/phantom shifts, and what has spoken to me so far throughout this search into what source I belong to. 

Ocean Eyes

There is an eye at the bottom of the ocean, belonging to an old god whose name has been forgotten, but still leaves echoes in the memory of man. It's there, under the rolling waves and aquatic life. In a constant staring contest with our sun that's dripping crimson with the blood of so many who have given into their fears, the eye gazes not just on that sun but through every life that has ever lived in this reality we've found ourselves in, and so many others.

 When it finally blinks, the world will end. This is a fact. The Earth will begin to swallow us whole, and nature will take back what we've stolen from it. Bridges collapsing and headlights careering into the star filled glinting sea, into doors that were never meant to be opened. Fear and panic in the air, do you feel it too?.. and when that eye blinks, our sun will too. I want to look down into those depths just so I can reassure myself it's fine. ‘It was just a dream, a terrible, terrible dream that you had because you went into cardiac arrest,’

But it's still wriggling in my brain, pulling in and out of my periphery like a tide. So I think..

I'm going to run a little experiment. I've mentioned my urges- 

My fixation with hearing others experiences and memories, my drive to feel that connection, and to pick at the more distressing details of said memories. I would like to stop completely, just to see how uncomfortable I'd get. I want to document how long it takes until my resolve cracks, just to get a sense of how trapped I really am in this cycle.

So, if I don't post for a while, my blog isn't dead! I'm simply trying not to fall into a pattern that I've been feeding into for the past 3 months. I will post the results when I feel I've gotten satisfying results.

Otherkin beings, alterhumans, nonhumans, therians.

Send me an ask and tell the world what you are. Use as many or few words as you want without censoring yourself. It can be written like a poem or straight forward and simple. Do what feels right for you.

My goal is to collect and archive until we have enough entries to make a zine out of it that can be downloaded and passed around for free. I want to make our voices less quiet. 

How it works

You send me an ask. Short and simple example:

“I’m a ___.”

I will post your ask (I'll use the queue to space the posts out a bit) and put it down on the zine as:

“I’m a ___.” -Anonymous

If you don’t want to be cited as anonymous, you need to tell me. Like this, for example:

“I’m a ___. -Blue”

You can ad as much information as you want. An example:

“I’m a ___. -Blue, they/them, 21”

That would look like this in the zine:

“I’m a ___.” -Blue, they/them, 21

I hope I explained it in an easy to understand way!

I will cite the asks exactly how I receive them, including things that I think are typos. I don’t want to accidentally change something that was done on purpose. If you want to correct a mistake you’ve made, just comment under the respective post. I can’t allow this for anons because I need a way to know the request comes from the being that made the original ask.

Update

We already have over 30 entries! Given that number, I can confidently say that this zine will happen. I already started working on it. I'm excited! 

(Some of these entries are bringing me to tears omg /pos)

🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

.... I probably should've expected this

🎺🐟

fish band

Hello, problem child ( I say this lovingly)

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.