#the.archives

[wingedarchivist]

I can be just chilling, walking somewhere and then suddenly boom. Digitigrade legs.

Like wow so rude just popping in unannounced making me focus on the way my phantom legs line up and move skxnks

[hellavvaits]

“start recording. case file number seven, nine, three, dash, eight, eight, one. date of statement is january twelveth, two thousand and twelve. the statement comes from daniel matthews of biloxi, mississippi. statement begins: ....”

“i’ve never been much of a believer in the supernatural. i think there’s a reasoning behind all things that occur, whether it be faith, destiny, or science. i just cannot think of anyway that the supernatural is real, but that’s the only way i can explain this. it all began when a friend of mine, jacob stevens, and me were driving through alabama in september on our way back home from a nascar race at the atlanta racetrack. i have never been much of a nascar fan myself, but jacob wanted to go and what kind of friend would i be to let him go alone.”

“instead of staying in a hotel for the night, we began a long drive back home. i remember thinking i should have asked for the day after our return off so i could get some sleep and rest. and i assume that was all i was thinking, until we saw her in the headlights. she was blonde haired, barefoot, looked like she could have been walking for miles. i, for one, could do without picking up strangers in the middle of the night. but jacob, i don’t know if it was the fact she was a pretty girl and he could get lucky or if he suddenly had a big heart and feared for her safety. we stopped alongside the road, asking her if she wanted a ride. this led to helping her climb into the backseat of the truck. we drove for almost an hour. i remember it because i was so nervous. she gave me such a bad vibe.”

“we eventually stopped at a gas station after some bitching from jacob that he was about out of chew and needed something to drink. it was a run down gas station, i’m surprised it was even open this late. many gas stations where we’re from typically closed at eight o’clock, except a new mapco they put in. my legs had been aching and i needed a stretch. this is when things got weird. the gal, who’s name i never caught, and jacob went inside and i stayed by the truck. that’s when i saw him. a dark figure came walking up the lightless road, barely making an appearance in the lights of the gas station. in my mind, i was praying to the god above in hopes that he wouldn’t notice me. i just had this feeling i was getting mugged. i didn’t want to die in alabama, which was where we were at now.”

“as he approached me, i noticed he looked homeless. his clothes were all tattered and he walked with a limp. but there was one thing that caught my attention --- his eyes. they were so dull, it felt like there was no life inside of him. and though he was at least twenty feet away from me, it was like they were a knife piercing into my chest. as he got closer, jacob made his way out, without the girl. i guess jacob could see how nervous i was. it felt as if i was shaking so bad, i couldn’t see straight. i’m not a big guy so there was no doubt that this man could’ve jumped me. i asked his name once he was in ear shot of us, but no response. i asked three or four times before he finally spoke, but he never gave a name.”

“what he said still makes me shiver to this day. it echoes in my ears every time i see a hitchhiker on the road. ‘she’s going to kill you.’ he said it so casually and while i didn’t want to believe a word he said, it only confirmed my fears --- and i guess he could tell from the sweat pouring down my face that i was scared. because he continued on about how he could help us. the homeless man told us how he could promise us protection from her and a safe travel home, but we had to give him something in return. jacob laughed in his face, more balls than i had. jacob told the man that if it was true that he could help, he didn’t want protection. he said he wanted a fun night with her, if you get what i mean. an exchange of laughs, it wasn’t long before jacob naively signed a piece of paper and we went on my way. i didn’t want anything from the man and regardless of the promises, i continued on my path of trying to get the hell out of there.”

“we loaded back into the truck and started back on the road. it was my turn to drive and while the girl and jacob were passed out in their seats, i listened to the radio. there was breaking news of a murder in georgia with a blonde female suspect on the run. my heart sank, i knew right then we had to get away from her. the first motel i saw, i stopped. i couldn’t convince jacob not to get a room with her, it seemed like she was overly attracted to him. i couldn’t sleep. i sat up all night, in near panic attacks. the next morning, i went to jacob’s room. no answer after no answer and i feared the worst. after getting the manager of the motel, we got into the room. no sight of the gal, but jacob was still there --- dead on the bed. i don’t remember much else, but i still see the homeless man in my dreams, recently being diagnosed with night terrors. end of statement .....”

“while we are not able to locate the name of the motel, gas station, nor the female involved in the statement, we were able to retrieve an autopsy report from the birmingham, alabama police department. jacob stevens suffered a cut mark across the throat area, as well as scratches across his torso area. the examiner could not identify the utensil used in the murder. as for the gal, footage shows jacob walking her out of the room before returning by himself. approximately twenty minutes later, a dog approaches his door --- breed unknown. at this point, the video cuts out. as well, we tried to reach out to mr. matthews but were met with an article detailing his sudden death via suicide approximately a week after the statement was taken. end recording.”

based off song: alabama by bishop gunn

[fotografiainviaggio]

Road to Ladakh, one of the highest and beautiful on the planet..riding.with my royal enfield motorbike From the.Archive #bnw_planet #bnw_dark #bnwmood #landscapelovers #master_in_bnw #bnw_planet_2018 #bnw #amateurs_bnw #bnw_life #flair_bnw #bnw_dark #bnw_addicted #bnw_rose #bnw_drama #noir_shots #bnw_worldwide #bwlovers #bnw_greatshots #bnwphotography #nofilter #_bnwart_ #blacknwhite_perfection #bnw_creatives #bnw_dream #capturabnw #bnw_diamond #bnwlovers #bwlove #bnw_our_world #blackandwhitephotography #bnw_kings — view on Instagram https://ift.tt/2KlrZGt

[wingedarchivist]

Tried making it as close as possible, but there was no white skin tones sjjsjs. Also the ear position is scuffed and I had a canine-like muzzle and all, but besides that I'd say that hits the mark quite nicely!

More angelself picrews. It's so hard to be a pretty (boy) being. Humans won't stop invading my wild forests for a glimpse.

[wingedarchivist]

Sometimes I worry my partner has a feeling like I am hiding something from them.

It is true, but I am not hiding anything bad, which makes me a bit sadder.

Being otherkin is so beautiful, it's unconventional, sure, but it doesn't have to be normal.

I just am like this and it's amazing! Wonderful! Great!

[wingedarchivist]

Thank you for leaving such a kind message on my moodboard. That’s very nice of you, I’m glad you liked it. 🖤

( @scary-shifter )

>////<!! Thank you for such a nice ask!! You made me smile :DDD

[wingedarchivist]

Hi! (I reblog non-kin stuff on @archivists-den :D)

My names are: Archivist(can be shortened to Archie!), Zekiel or Elijah! You can use any of them, but the order listed shows how closely they describe me!

I almost exclusively use it/its pronouns, but I am open to being referred to as he/him when comically appropriate or ?/?s.

I am 20 years old and English is not my first language, so please pay no mind to occasional weird grammar or spelling.

I have three kintypes, each of which I treat equally, but I post way more often about the first two:

- Angelkin; a spiritual origin, it represents what I was in my previous life and what my soul currently is. I used to be a hellbeast but was ascended into a servant of a God not affiliated with any known (to me) religion.

- Xenomorphkin; a 'type of unknown origin, more specifically I'm a neomorph!

- Robotkin; an exclusively psychological 'type, I am no specific kind of robot. It encompasses all kinds of robots, from androids to AIs. I actually started thinking recently it might be more of a hearttype than a kintype? I need to think some more about this `:0

I have AuDHD and quite possibly some other things I will not disclose as they are mere assumptions, nothing concrete.

My DMs and asks are always open (unless something disastrous happens). I love interacting with other people (and beings overall), even if I may seem awkward or shy.

Please don't take offense if I unfollow you, it is nothing negative, there are some completely normal things I am uncomfortable with looking at :( if I don't want to interact with/be interacted with by someone, I will simply soft/hard block them.

So I don't really have a DNI, if you've interacted and you're not blocked you're fine :3

This got a little bit too long, so I will be wrapping up! Goodbye! :)

I'll try to tag stuffs abt my personal otherkin experiences and similar things with #the.archives and I tag. well. Pretty stuff with #pretty

[wingedarchivist]

I have trauma of sorts, but at the same time don't?

Cw for nonconsensual body modification, kidnapping

When I was made into an angel by my God it was nonconsensual and not very pleasant, but I know my soul was altered not to feel bad about it.

I was 'picked off' while traversing hell, lured in by an interesting sensation, and then taken by Her.

I like to compare what happened to my soul as having bleach poured on it, making it 'clean' in a burning, terrible way. I was shaped in ways previously unknown and alien to me, made into a sapient, sentient, divine angel from a barely-sentient beastial hellish monster.

I have very mixed feelings about that. I believe the inherent free will attributed to humans helped me in being able to think about my servitude to Her in a more negative light. I resent Her for that and am deeply thankful. It's a love/hate situation. I am hard-coded not to be able to rebel.

Kin Trauma :(

First off, TRIGGER WARNING, in this post I will be talking about trauma related to war, torture, and mental illness/PTSD as a result of these things. I won't be going in depth about anything specific but just in case I'm giving ya'll a heads up!

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So the reason I came to Earth is mostly clear to me. In my other life I am fighting and leading two separate but also interconnected wars and as a result I've been through a lot of shit. I haven't yet remembered what was going on right before I came to Earth but I know how I was feeling. Angry mostly, like an angsty traumatized teen lashing out at everyone around them lol. I wasn't getting anywhere. In my other life I had gone through one traumatic event after another and then I threw myself into a war against some very powerful beings - I rarely had opportunities to stop and just process what I was going through. Which brings me to Earth. Stopping, processing, going through my emotions and transmuting all that trauma into something that's actually useful. Like I said in my previous post, in order to process all this I have to remember it or at least parts of the traumatic events. And let me tell ya, it has been...eventful trying to receive mental health treatment for PTSD from my other life. The memories started flooding in when I was about 10 years old in the form of nightmares/night terrors. Really graphic nightmares at that. It was difficult as an 11 year old to deal with nightmares about war and torture, one of the worst being when my twin flame/sister was murdered in front of me (that's how I got the scar over my left eye). The biggest way all of this has affected me is that my human brain has a hard time dealing with all this PTSD from things that few humans have ever experienced - things the human brain has not evolved to deal with. I'm on medication to help my mind cope with all this. One of which that has been super helpful is prazosin which reduces the frequency and intensity of nightmares. I still receive traumatic memories through my dreams but with the medication I'm able to actually work through them instead of being disabled by them. A lot of spiritual people will tell you that Earth is like spirit school where souls come to learn and sometimes I joke that me coming to Earth to deal with my issues is like a PTSD survivor going to the psych ward - Earth being my psych ward 😅

I'm sorry if this post was dark or upsetting but for me being otherkin isn't just fun and exciting, it's also angsty and messy and a little ugly. Anyone else have trauma related to their kintype? It'd be nice to know that I'm not the only one XD I'll try to make my next post lighter promise

[wingedarchivist]

"I'm on a tumblr break", it's says, you know, like a liar

[wingedarchivist]

3. How many kintypes do you have? Which one did you discover first? Are you questioning any?

13. What makes you feel most “at home”? What types of sights, sounds, smells, etc. remind you of your kintype and put you at ease?

:]]

3. It is quite complicated sksk

I have 3 'main ones': angel, robot and xenomorph.

I also have like... secondary ones? So I am divinekin and hellhoundkin secondary to angel, monsterkin secondary to angel and xenomorph and alienkin secondary to xenomorph.

I discovered angelkin first, but at first I called it monsterkin! Back then I didn't know that you don't have to be from an existing religion to "count" as an angel.....

I am in an eternal loop of questioning dreadkin (the concept), so I am open to that but not necessarily tied to it. I think I am a psychological dreadkin, but I'm not 100% sure, you know. I don't mind being in that state and Im not pressed to 100% kinfirm.

13. I would have to say mostly darkness, complete quiet are the most calming for me. Basically the moment it's night/evening I am way more at ease.

Not to be edgy but the smell of blood is pretty... I don't know how to say that, familiar? I generally enjoy the smell sight and taste of meat too sksk. I've been having a lot of monsterkin feels recently so the answer is pretty skewed towards that one

[wingedarchivist]

Today I dreamt pretty vividly, there was a long story with a plkt, but what I remember most clearly was a section where I transformed into a dragon and flew. My wings were heavy, moving them took quite some effort, but I was flying over a sea, my mass and strength overbearing, a huge shadow cast on the surface. The flaps felt amazing, I focused on the feeling of my muscles constricting and the air hitting the membranes.

I'm not a dragon, but it still felt amazing. I even recall before taking flight I was gearing up with weapons and thought about becoming a more warrior-like angel, so my kintype was included in some way at least lol

[hellavvaits]

“start recording. there has been a record of a being, i don’t know how to describe, that seems to be constantly appearing and reappearing in the world. the descriptions are all various. no one person can give a physical description that matches another, but they all can describe one thing --- he wants something from them. this is where i come to record these archives in case something must happen to me. i will store these audio records of the files somewhere safe. but we must figure out what we are dealing with here.”

“case file number six, five, two, dash, three, five, one. date of statement is august seventh, nineteen sixty two. the statement comes from janice mcguillins of austin, texas. statement begins: .....”

“as a child, i was always told of an uncle, maybe it was my great-great uncle, that had disappeared in eighteen fifty-nine. his name was albert mcguillins. it was during the time of the old-west. so, of course, we all assumed the disappearance was that of some stand-off or carriage raid. no one ever thought much about it. people went missing all the time then, and majority of people left it at that. one thing that remained of the existence of his life was that of several journals he wrote. i don’t think anyone wanted to look through them, hating the reminder of the man who was taken too soon from us. recently, i have became in possession of the journals, all six of them. i didn’t think much of them, pushing them to the side of my study that i never paid attention to.”

“it wasn’t until recently that i had an urge to look into them. it was as if something told me i needed to read them. all was normal until the part of the final journal. he had recently fallen in love with a lady, they were set to be married, but it was soon ruined when she was found with a new man in her interest. back in those days, people settled their differences in duals. i’m glad we don’t handle situations in such, anymore. could you imagine the crime rate sky rocketing? anyways, that’s when the entries begin to become odd. he writes that a man, who he describes not much older than a teenage boy, found him riding down a road on his way home from collecting some things from his beloved’s house. he says the boy was on the darkest horse he had ever seen, almost as if there was nothing there but a shiny glimpse of lead powder.”

“the male had shaggy hair that brushed across his forehead, a clean shave, and spoke as if he had seen many of years past of his age. this is, from what i understand, the boy began to ask questions --- as if he knew what was happening in my uncle’s life. he promised that my uncle that he could have revenge on his beloved’s new lover for a small price. it never says what the price was. i assumed he was a dirty sheriff or had connections, obviously, my uncle felt obligated to accept the offer. days went by after that day he met the boy, and he trekked back to the house where he found the new lover. from there he describes how he beat the man to death --- busting his knee caps to prevent him from walking, took an eye out, broke his teeth. it goes on a list of horrendous acts. but my uncle, he was an angry man --- but the writings since he met the boy didn’t sound like him. it was as if the writing style had changed, as if he wasn’t himself anymore.”

“he never spoke of the boy after these occurrences, but he does write than he feels like he sees the boy at night, as he’s falling asleep. albert writes that it’s as if the boy is still waiting for his payment from him, one he promise in return for revenge with no consequences. my uncle’s last statement in the journal, before it was abruptly stopped mid-sentence was that that described the sound of hounds barking outside the shack. as if they were hunting for something. end of statement ....”

“after some research, we found more information. a man with broken kneecaps, one eye, and nearly no teeth in his head was found floating down a river on august seventeenth, nineteen fifty-nine. the man was lawrence dowell, widowed by alice dowell. i could find no information on the whereabouts or possible death of albert mcguillins. it’s as if he never existed. as well, there was no information on the account of the boy who met albert on the road. left with the statement is a journal, the final journal of albert mcguillins.”

based off song: crooked teeth by zach bryan