Imitative-magpie - Magpie

Realized I have a naked rat and a small piano

Here's Harry banging out the tunes, April 13th 2023

I saw your pinned post about your vague kin feelings! May I suggest Homura Akemi from Madoka Magica?

Hello, mysterious seeker from the void. I actually had not yet considered this character, but I have seen them before online. Honestly it is a wonder why I hadn't looked into the source material more thoroughly as a lot does match up with what I had mentioned in my pinned post; the horror, the theme of the heat death of the universe, the sense of something fantastical being just on the outside of our periphery-- Of course, I don't need to tell you all that. You were the one to suggest it, after all. And of course, I would be lying if I said some of the characteristics of the character you mentioned didn't mirror some of my own mannerisms in day to day life. I'll have to do a bit more research into this one, thank you so much for the lead.

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. 

Defanging Fear Itself

‘When I say end, I don't mean "lifeless", I mean "terminated life as we know it". This is an important distinction.’

 I keep staring at my dms, vacantly, pondering just what I’ve done. When I started to reach out out into the void, I had thought this was a noble sacrifice, and that if only I reached out-

Maybe I could erase all the harm that I’ve created. I think I lost track of that, somehow along the way. I was so caught up with filling this hollow part inside of me, so caught up with keeping myself warm that I hadn’t even considered the people I was setting on fire just to do so. 

…And here’s this guy, right? I’ve been talking to him for a while, and he just gets it. Everytime he talks to me, he’s given me nothing but sure guidance as if he can peer right into my mind and see just what I’m feeling- and lord, do I feel so much. It’s like I’m holding back an ocean of anxieties, and one word is the detonator. I think about what he’s told me a lot, mostly about how he died because I just couldn’t understand it. Why did someone so clever and swift have to die? How could you devote your whole life to something, only for it to turn around and stab you in the back? I think about myself, how I gave into the impulse, and I wound up in the hospital with an atrial fibrillation. I've given my whole life to something, and it's going to eat me alive.

‘Why did it have to end though? The world, I mean?’

Who am I trying to find? Would it really be helping them, if I asked them to remember me? Would sorry really be enough to rekindle their souls and make things right again?..Or am I just doing this for me? Maybe it’s better that I live my life, never knowing. The people I hurt may be living a beautiful life, far from the pain of whatever timeline that’s been shattered underneath my fingertips. I can only hope they are. 

He was willing to trade humanity for enlightenment, and because of it he was killed. Well, what does that make me?

 Is that who I truly am? 

Am I willing to kill the things I’ve been trying to save? Fear, it’s all I’ve talked about since I created this blog. Humans have been telling tales of fear since the dawn of man, because we crave the cortisol and adrenaline like rich silk under our fingers. I don’t think I was laying to rest your fears, when I came out of the dark to carve into you with inquiry, I think I was just breathing life into old wounds, and you deserved better than that. Trading a complete life for a high that will never hit the same hardly seems fair, so let's turn around and bite the hand that feeds us out of spite. It's hurt you, and it's hurt me. If we don't we'll succumb to desensitization, or an even worse fate. We need to defang these fears before they swallow us whole. 

I’ll defang myself first.

I promise. 

(Consent for this documented information has been given by all parties involved.)

Reblog to let prev know their presence is wanted

"The gods love you❤" **INCREDIBLY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER**

Hello, Star and Blue. You have a lovely tumblr blog, and I think that it is wonderful that you help so many other fictionkin who reach out to you online.

I have a big ask- one that is possibly too much to request, so if you do not answer I will not take any offense. I’ve seen Kin Calls on tumblr, and I think I would like to make one of sorts, unfortunately I do not know the source I am from, and I am aware that this goes against what you specifically stated in your pinned post.

For full disclosure, I’m not entirely sure who I am, but I certainly feel like I may be a villain. It makes me feel guilty, to not even be certain what I’ve done or who I inflicted my malcontent behavior upon, so I decided I would branch out to other blogs on Tumblr in hopes of fixing things to the best of my ability. 

That being saiiid…. I have a confession. There is a certain phenomenon that wriggles around in my very being. It breathes life into me where I would otherwise feel hollow, and I have become addicted to the acrid taste on my tongue- fear, and ideally a heightened measure of it. I really can’t help myself nowadays, the draw to the unknown horrors of this world that dance just outside of our periphery should be sought after, at the very least to document it,  but I feel so overwhelmed by the level of satisfaction that I get when seeking out said feelings both in myself and others. 

Sometimes I really can’t help myself, there’s something about the way people’s blood seems to run backward in their veins and they get that hysterical sound to their voice, the way their pupils dilate and seem to tremble in their very eyes is so very attractive… It’s a game of wits, to see if you can outlast the very stress response (Your fight or flight), and I’m sure there are people out there that know what I’m talking about, when I say there isn’t quite anything like this primal dance that we call horror, in the world.

 I think it’s wrong that I feel this way, and I just feel dreadful afterwards when I find myself giving in (But I always do), I imagine it feels so much worse to have memories of being on the receiving end of something so vile though. So to anyone reading these words, if you are a fictionkin from a doomed timeline, and you see familiarity in me, if you feel personally victimized by me: This is an invitation to reach out and receive a proper apology. I may not know who or what I am, but I will right this terrible wrong, mark my words. 

mod star reporting for duty >:) thank you so much, you'll make us blush! speaking for mod blue on this one since im sure it feels the same, we love hearing kind words about the blog! i know i've said this a few times before but i never expected this blog to actually fill a wanted niche amongst the Kins of Tumblr. that being said...

!! kin call !!

please feel free to reach out to OP if they resonate with you !!

hello boss !! im an Elias AND Jon fictionkin and you said you wanted to interact with them (I think . don't respond to this ask if I'm wrong I'll have to explode /silly) but I'm curious as to what that interaction would entail .. would it just be questions about our canon mems, or would it be something more? only reason I ask is because I don't have very many mems regarding either of them , and I don't want to disappoint you with my lack of . memories , or helpful information .

That's a good question, I'm glad you've asked. While I do have a complicated relationship with memories specifically, I won't limit my search to that. Any information you have to offer that is relevant; Your journey in finding your kintype, any shifts you may have experienced.. These are all things that I would find incredibly helpful at the moment. Thank you for reaching out 

🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

.... I probably should've expected this