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wisteria-lodge · 3 years

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bird primary (system in progress) + burnt badger secondary (really loud bird model)

Howdy! I’m still trying to figure out my own houses and was wondering if you could provide some insight. I haven’t exactly mastered the system so I don’t know how accurate/inaccurate my claims are, so bear with me.

The “why”/Primary: I am extremely motivated by knowledge. I want to know things, not just out of intrinsic curiosity (though that does play a role), but because knowing why things work helps me protect myself more effectively.

One of the trickiest things about this system is separating motivation from method. Because yeah, they are related, but they're also really different. Like this example: "I protect myself by learning things." That's a how, that's secondary stuff. (Bird secondary of course.)

A recent example is this— a group of my former friends all ditched me because I discussed a heavily stigmatized mental disorder that I show symptoms of. And my first response (other than bawling) was to ask them why. And when I got the answer, I was hurt, but I understood. I don’t say this for you to show me pity, but rather because it illustrates this model in action.

This is a really interesting example. Your friends acted in a way that emotionally hurt you. First you processed your feelings (which you talk about in a dismissive, lighthearted, jokey way) then you asked them for more information... which hurt you, but also made you more secure. This is very Bird primary. You feel feelings, but they're whatever. What actually bothers you is not having the data.

(I suspect you're going to end up being a Double Bird. And Double Birds are unique in that their morality and problem-solving are SO interconnected, that they think I'm crazy for saying that for most people, they are in fact two very different things.)

When I got the why and processed my emotions, I cut off ties and realized that their severe judgy-ness had hindered my life for 2 years. And now that I know the “why”, I won’t bring up said disorder again until I know it’s safe. It might never be, but I still have hope.

You updated your system, and you cut away the parts that aren't serving you anymore. Bird primary.

Morally-speaking, I am very sensitive to the views of others around me.

External primary.

I’m not proud of this. In fact, it’s a detriment.

A lot of Birds feel this way. It's a big part of why they tend to like Lion primaries. Lions are much more able to dismiss things with "sounds like that's a them problem."

I won’t go into details, but my parents are… bad. Not wholly, but they are bad. I’ve tried for years, and still do, to escape their opinions because I know it’ll influence mine.

Parents are sticky. They do that. I've been a happily UnBurnt Lion primary for a while now... but I still sometimes hear that voice in my head that sounds like my mother.

And, much like them, I tend to get over-passionate in what I stand for. Unlike them, I’m willing to change if evidence supports this change. I always, however, carry the burden of my former hatred. I always feel guilt over my old beliefs. Even if I’ve changed, the pain I’ve done can never be reversed. And this guilt eats me alive, this shame of being fundamentally wrong.

Okay. You got really emotional on me really quickly here. This could mean a couple things. Your parents sound like fairly toxic Idealists, either Exploded Lions or Exploded Birds (I'm sort of leaning Lion due to the more emotion-heavy words like "passion" and "hatred.") Birds can feel bad, feel guilt, feel shame when looking back at an older version of themselves that they now consider morally repugnant. (Birds are human.) Idealists struggle with the angst of worrying that they are fundamentally wrong about the world. So you could be a guilty Bird, especially if your emotions feel wrong or unhelpful somehow. But you could also be a very Burnt Lion modeling Bird - because Bird seems safer, and you don't want to be a Lion the way your parents are.

When the friend-event happened, I thought that I was in the wrong, and that I had once again fucked myself over because of my passion and sureness in what I have.

"I thought I was wrong because I was acting like an Exploded Lion primary." Yeah, I'm thinking there's some sort of outside influence here that needs to be unpacked.

It took a lot of convincing and evidence for me to see that they were the assholes (albeit I wasn’t pure either— I was their friend, after all).

I'm definitely leaning Bird for you. A bird surrounded by Lions maybe, who sometimes uses Lion terminology. But Bird.

I am a planner and system-lover at heart. I’m not proud of it, but it’s just part of me.

What's with all this negative language? Being a planner and a system-lover is a wonderful thing to be. There's some Burning here.

The caveat— I have autism, so I’m not sure if it’s due to that or not. Hence the shortness of this section. Take it as you will, regardless of if it’s evidence or not.

I have autism and I'm a Lion Badger. People are different. The only real pattern I've observed is the way nerodivergent people disproportionately build Bird secondaries as coping strategies.

Honesty is maybe not the best policy, it’s still an admirable one. I wish, frankly, that my moral system was more honest. I feel like I have no set morals. That it all comes from elsewhere. Lion primaries have this set, intrinsic morality that I envy. My friend is a lion primary, and while my views have radically changed, hers haven’t inched. She’s always been honest about herself and what she holds true.

I'm doubling down on Bird primary for you. This is the perspective of a Bird looking in on a Lion. Lion morality isn't set or intrinsic - it's built, and it changes, but it builds and changes differently than a Bird's does (more slowly, usually). But there really is a pattern of Birds seeing it as more moral/easier/better.

And I’m still trying to figure out what “truth” means to me. I mean, yes, I’m a dry and blunt asshole, but that’s not really the same as gut morality. Internal honesty is what I want, and external honesty is what I have to some extent.

It sounds that you are going though a lot of very intense shifts in your life right now. You've got a diagnosis that has you questioning your place in the world. You've followed your parent's system all you life, and are now deciding that you don't want that. But now comes deciding what you do want, and that's a lot harder (especially for a Bird, who has to build it from the ground up.) You like the way Lions do things, but Lion primaries do not feel accessible.

I’m very clear with who I like. I can admit their faults, and even get annoyed or angry at them, but not even betrayal can stop me from loving them. I’d compare myself to the Twelfth Doctor from “Doctor Who” and Ponyboy Curtis from The Outsiders in that regard.

So maybe you are building a system with very Snake values.

Loyalty is one of my weaknesses. I get overly-attached to people, and so if/when they leave me, it shatters my world. But my brand of loyalty is mostly to people, not philosophical ideas.

... but you're not *really* comfortable with Snake either, if you consider it to be a "weakness."

I would consider myself somewhat philosophical (well, as much as a fucking teenager can be)

Teenagers are *extremely* philosophical, stop being so down on yourself.

but I can be somewhat vague in my beliefs.

Because you're still building them, give yourself a *second.*

If I were to rate the likelihood of what primary I think I am, it’s something like this:

Bird: 9/10 probability (maybe burned)

Snake: 7/10 probability

Badger: 6/10 probability (maybe burned)

Lion: 2/10 probability

What is it with Birds and numbered lists?

The “how”: I feel like I change in order to fit in. I mean, to some extent, we all do, but it’s far more drastic for me. With the lion primary friend, I act as a “Jason Todd” to their Batman. I challenge them, egg them on, crack jokes and become violently passionate and act like a nerd, and she simply watches, usually adding her own comments but mostly sitting on the sidelines by choice. We also joke that I’m the Ferris Bueller to their Cameron Frye. But, with another friend, I’m a parent figure. I listen most of the time, and sometimes jump in with creative ideas and we talk for hours about it.

I'm guessing Actor Bird, both because you can specifically list out the qualities that you "act" out. And because you're invoking and basing your performance off specific [fictional] characters. Which is a HUGE Actor Bird thing.

I go with the flow of a given situation as best as I can (with the added caveat of being autistic, because that does affect how well I can read a room). However, that’s where the adaptation ends.

Huh. I'm hearing Burnt secondary language here. "I'd like to go with the flow and read the room - but I can't, because I'm autistic." You can definitely *learn* how to read a room. Why do you think I'm so interested in (and good at :) personality systems? This is how I learned to use my Courtier Badger. I used to model Bird secondary like crazy, and I kind of don't bother anymore. I don't need the training wheels.

Planning: like I stated before, I’m a planner. I try to learn the most about a situation before jumping in. Sometimes, however, I stall the inevitable and miss my chance, so I jump in and wind up nearly drowning. And this dichotomy repeats. I overcompensate for a lack of knowledge in a situation by micromanaging, or I wind up sitting bored when I’ve already done everything I need to do. And yes, stress and boredom are equally as destructive for me. I try so hard to plan to avoid both of these outcomes, but it only works half the time. So, I guess I’m a bit of a “planster” overall.

I want to learn about a situation... but sometimes I "stall" or "drown" (Burnt language.) But planning also leads to "micromanaging" and "getting bored" (model language.) I think you've got a really loud Bird secondary model... but there might be something else underneath.

Collecting things is fun. Postcards, candles, lighters, crystals, rocks, 1940s hats, knowledge, stories, music, (original) characters, the list goes on. I’m a collector of whatever I can get my hands on. Hell, by this point, I can’t tell what’s my special interest and what I just enjoy (again, autism).

Oh my goodness gracious 'my special interest' and 'what I enjoy' are not two different categories!

But my systems and collections are my coping.

Figured.

I can’t say, though, that they hold any weight outside of emotional release. There’s nothing practical about knowing how they shot The Outsiders movie, or how crows have a flat tail and ravens have two main sections on theirs. All of this knowledge almost feels useless to me. I mean, sure, I’m great at school, but what else? Nothing, it seems like. And being good at school and nothing else makes a person go crazy when they can’t achieve their academic goals. But that’s a bit besides the point— I’m a collector, but I’m unsure how well this really fits into a secondary beyond a model.

Bird secondary model.

I invest in others more than I care to admit.

Oh man, are you a Badger secondary like me?

I genuinely believe in the goodness in humans, no matter how impossible it becomes. Even those who I don’t see any good in aren’t wholly evil. My perception isn’t law.

^ That's primary stuff. Maybe a more Badger-flavored system is going to work better for you than a Snake-flavored one.

But some people trust me: with their secrets, with homework, with relationship issues, with their religious struggles. And I try to help. I might not be good with it, but I do try to help as best I can.

Kinda sounds like a Badger secondary.

I use my planning and my categorizing skills and my knowledge to benefit others. I show up, I do what I need to do, and I don’t usually expect much to come of it. It’s nice when something does, but it’s not expected. And sometimes, these investments into others' lives and grades and relationships do pay off. I make friends. Those friends stick by me, and I trust them. I continue to invest in others, because I am a lover even though I’m cynical.

I think you're a Badger secondary.

And when that trust is broken, like the example in the beginning, I go to people who won’t abandon me to get a second opinion. When I say that I love someone, I mean it. So it hurts when they leave. It always does.

Oh that's your friends leaving hit you so hard. It's not an abstract morality thing at all, it's practical. You're a Badger secondary, and they were your base of support.

I’ll be frank on this— I’m almost entirely sure that I’m not a lion secondary. I’m fiercely efficient and some people see me as a good leader, but that’s it.

Lion and Badger are the two Inspirational secondaries. They're the one who sort of manage to collect armies or families as a side effect of existing.

Even with the leader example, I prefer interpersonal relations or to be alone. I’m not a big fan of group settings.

That's fair. I am also a Badger who really, really likes my own company. Or small groups of interesting people.

If I were to rate the likelihood of what secondary I am, it’s like this:

Bird: 7/10 probability

Badger: 6/10 probability

Snake: 5/10 probability

Lion: 0/10 probability

Other systems for comparison: I’m aware that MBTI and enneagram are, at worst, pseudo-science, but I still enjoy them regardless. At best, they’re fun self-help tools, and that’s how I try to use them.

MBTI: INTJ (Ni-Te-Fi-Se)

Enneagram: 5w4, tritype 514

Sagittarius sun libra moon cancer rising in astrology

FLEV or LFEV in attitudinal psyche

sx/sp (sexual and self-preservation) in instinctual variants

MBTI, Enneagram, and astrology are all fun in their own ways. (I don't actually know the last two!) And I can talk about them on their own terms. But this system was the best, and the most useful, when I went looking for words to describe myself.

I hope this is enough information, and thank you again if you do happen to do this! If you don’t, that’s totally okay. Have a good day!

Thank you for writing in. That was a journey! Thanks @thesketchykid for the submission.

#sortinghatchats #sortme #wisteria sorts #bird badger #birdpri #badgersec #bird secondary model #badger secondary vs bird secondary #autism stuff

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occasionalsnippets · 3 years

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Escapism AU (Y/n) & Passione

This is mostly about mc’s interactions with the gang including a bit of La Squadra and Unita Speciale. I’ll probably add more as I think.

Bucciarati’s Gang

Mc crashes at their house from time to time even though she has her own apartment

This either because she wants to sleep over for fun

Or because she’s finished a mission and their house is closer

Sometimes she shows up at 2 AM and just passes out on their couch

It happens more often than it should

Bruno eventually gives her a copy of the key

She steals food from the fridge too but makes up for it by buying groceries

They leave a toothbrush and cup for her in one of the bathrooms since she comes over so much

Before everyone was recuited, there were extra bedrooms in the house that weren’t being used

They left a guest room for mc but she doesn’t use it all the time, opting to pass out on the couch first

Either Bruno or Abbacchio usually brings her to her room though Abbacchio would never admit to it

Mista draws on her face with marker sometimes but leaves her on the couch most of the time. He can’t ruin her cute face all the time

Narancia cuddles with her on the couch or join Mista in doodling

Fugo leaves her on the couch but gets a blanket and readjusts her position if it’s uncomfortable

However, after Mista got recruited, mc gave up her room so Mista didn’t have to room with anyone

Now, she just sleeps on the couch or whoever’s okay with her borrowing their bed

She has tried several times to get them to wear normal clothes outside (they dressed perfectly normally before joining the mafia!) and only about half those times did it actually work

Mc is strong enough carry everyone in the group bridal style

The only ones who gets particularly mouthy when she does is Abbacchio and Mista but only because Mista wants to carry her too

She joins Fugo, Narancia and Mista in doing stupid things but it’s fun

She knows the torture dance

Mc isn’t technically a part of their team but they consider her to be because of how often she stays over and tags along for missions

She doesn’t expect anyone to really like her the way they do despite how obvious their feelings are

Part of it is because she isn’t supposed to be in this universe in the first place, that she’s an outsider of sorts. She’s here to make sure they don’t die

The other part of it is the guilt of leaving them to die in the first timeline. She feels like she doesn’t deserve how highly they think of her because of how readily she was to let fate run it’s course the first time around, even if they don’t remember it

She’s sooner die then let any of them do the same

Giorno

Mc meets Giorno before he’s recruited into the gang since she does go to the same school as him even though she doesn’t really show up to classes that often

She’s about 2 years older than Giorno

They became friends prior to his hair turning blond and she almost didn’t recognize him but his eyes are rather distinctive

When it did turn blond, mc got a vaguely panicked call in the morning from him saying his hair turned blond for some reason

She’s the first person to braid his hair with the needlessly extra loop at the end after it turned blond

She wasn’t sure how the donuts worked but the next time she saw him he had the signature donut hair so she guessed he figured out how to do it

It becomes routine for her to braid Giorno’s hair when she notices it’s undone

She gave him a crash course on stands when he found out she had one

They spend a lot of time in libraries

Mc insists on paying for food when they get lunch together though Giorno always refuses

I feel like Giorno lowkey craves intimacy?

Mc calls him “GioGio” sometimes

Trish

Hmmmmm, gay

I really like Trish hence why she’s included in the harem

Out of everyone in the gang guarding her, she’s the closest with mc since they’re both girls which is also why Bruno assigns mc to her the most often

Convenient for Trish since it means more time to flirt

Unfortunately, mc does fall under the “are we just being nice to each other or are we flirting” when Trish is just about ready to ask for her hand in marriage

She’s flirting, no doubt

Trish lets mc rest her head on her thighs which mc can confirm is very comfortable

Trish is one of the two people she trusts to do her make up, the other one being Abbacchio

You know that picture where there’s one girl sitting on the other girl doing her makeup

That’s basically Trish and mc

Post-Vento Aureo, they stay in contact and remain good friends as Trish pursues a career as a singer

Narancia

Mc joined Fugo on that walk where they found Narancia in the alleyway so she’s partially responsible for him joining the mafia

They bring him to Libecco where Bruno is and he gets food before going to the hospital to get his eye treated like in canon

She goes shopping with him after he’s out of the hospital

They get normal clothes but the next she sees him, he’s wearing his canon outfit and she wonders why she even bothered with his fashion sense in the first place

She’s the one who buys him his bandana that he wears in his canon outfit

They’re pretty cute together actually

She calls him “Nara”

While she isn’t available all the time to help Fugo tutor him, when she is around, she tries her best to help

They listen to music together and mc ends up reccomending a lot though some songs haven’t come out yet so she’s only able to play them on her phone

“If I run and jump at (Y/n), she’ll definately catch me!” “Wait, I’m holding a mug-” *Drops the mug and catches Narancia*

Hugs with Narancia often end with his face buried in the crook of her neck

Fugo

Probably the one mc goes with on missions the most

Part of it is because they’re the closest in age prior to everyone else joining, another part is due to mc’s nullifying ability effectively making her immune to Purple Haze’s virus

Mc be like “if I got infected with purple haze’s virus, I would simply become immune. rip to everyone else but I’m different.”

Still, Fugo is still very cautious when it comes to pulling out Purple Haze

Fugo buys her lavender hand lotion once and she decided she liked it so she continued to use it

He sorta associates lavender with mc

Mc buys him strawberry earrings. Sometimes she spontaneously buys stuff that reminds her of him

Fugo isn’t particularily fond of contact (backstory trauma) so mc tries to keep it to a minimum unless he gives an okay

Probably a few missions together where mc saves him, they’re walking down a street together and he just slips his hand into hers

Asadlskjh, I want them to hold hands

When she’s doing school assignments over at the Bucci house, Fugo helps her look over and proofread them despite the fact she has access to the internet through her phone and can search stuff literally from the future (not that he knows). She appreciates the input

I think that after Fugo leaves the group during Vento Aureo, I would like to bring him back somehow before the end of Vento Aureo

Abbacchio

He didn’t like mc at first, no surprises here, but after they went on a few missions together where she saved his life, he begrudgingly opened up

She reminds him of his dead partner due to how reckless she is in saving people

She an idiot but she’s his idiot

He’s likely one of the most worried when she gets hurt since he doesn’t want to lose another person who died protecting him

Abbacchio does come off as very tsundere seeing how prickly he is to everyone except Bruno but everyone except for mc notices that he isn’t that prickly to her either

Mc doesn’t expect him to like her to any degree so whenever anyone points out that he’s nicer to her, she’s like “what?”

They have late night talks a lot

Abbacchio stays up late drinking and mc doesn’t sleep consistently enough

Sometimes they go up to the roof of the house to talk

She has fallen alseep on him multiple times. His tiddies make great pillows.

Generally, she’s got her head resting on his tiddies, one arm hanging over his body, the other spawled out somewhere. He keeps one arm around her head and the other around her waist

Bruno

Mc with Bruno is oddly domestic?

she helps around the house, buying groceries, helping out in the kitchen and cleaning from time to time

Bruno appreciates it a lot

If Abbacchio and mc have late night talks, Bruno and her have early morning talks when everyone else is asleep and the sun is just barely rising

Bruno keeps telling her it isn’t healthy to sleep only 3 hours so he convinces her to fall asleep for a few more hours

He spoils her a lot and brings her to cafes

Bruno is one of the last people she would expect to like her more than a friend due to the “bruno’s a mom” memes and he’s nice to everyone (almost everyone, excluding ememies), there’s no way he would like her more

Sure, he kisses the crown of her head and the back of her hand from time to time and they cook together

But they’re just good friends, right?

He frequently lectures her on being more careful and not being so reckless

Mista

They discuss weird stuff a lot

The combination of mc’s general knowledge of random things due to the internet and Mista’s bad timing when bringing up topics leads to interesting conversations

Like, your tongue never sits comfortably in your mouth, your skeleton is wet, are you inside your skeleton or is your skeleton inside you?

Mc is always in a constant state of worry when he’s on a mission because his bullets always end up in his own body something

The only reason he isn’t dead yet is because his dumb*ss aura surrounds him

Mc qualifies as a cute girl 11/10

He flirts with her casually and the pistols tell her his thought even when he doesn’t want them to but she never seems to notice

“You’ve been flirting with me?” “Have been for the last year, thanks for noticing.”

Mc gets Mista a gun holster after the events of Vento Aureo because he really shouldn’t be tucking his gun in his pants like that

If someone was really angry, they could lean over and shoot his d*ck off

La Squadra

I sorta debated whether la squadra should be a part of the harem or not but I think mostly no

That’s because I don’t really have an age range for them but Risotto’s like 28 and big age gaps are creepy. So, I guess for some of the la squadra members, it’s up to interpretation whether it’s romantic or platonic. I’m inclined towards platonic though

I’m not sure if I want to save Sorbet and Gelato yet

Mc, of course, goes along for missions as she’s ordered to

La squadra is so broke. Why doesn’t Diavolo pay them more? They literally kill people for their job

Mc doesn’t crash at their house very often but she stops by to hang out and drop off food

She buys them groceries when she notices their fridge is super empty. She doesn’t need them to pay her back (her paycheck is suprisingly big), but they should stop eating takeout all the time

She usually calls Risotto to ask if there’s anything specific they want

She’s rather fond of Pesci. They go fishing together when they have time

Illuso and mc are gossip buddies

Melone gets kink shamed during missions

Ghiaccio and mc have gone ice skating together before

I don’t really have anything else for the others... I’ll think about it

When Vento Aureo begins, mc is trying to save them though she isn’t directly working with them

La Unita Speciale

These are pretty random

Tizano and Squalo are gay, mc was there when they proposed to each other

Mc gets ordered to buy food when they have meetings though it’s pretty rare

When she does show up to drop off food, it’s a constant feeling of “let me leave quicker please” because Cioccolata is freaky

She thinks she runs into Doppio way too often when she’s doing missions

The only good thing about it is that Doppio is pretty nice when Diavolo isn’t kicking about. On one hand, Doppio=nice, on the other Doppio=Diavolo

Mc feeds Secco sugar cubes when Cioccolata isn’t looking

She would not trust Cioccolata to patch up any of her wounds, he’s likely to dissect her

Mc gets missions through calls and emails but sometimes Doppio’s around to tell her what they are

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montosmadman · 3 years

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I was tagged by @soy-celeste ages ago. This was hard but also super rewarding because I really got to take a deep dive in the murky depths of my own music library. Thanks for thinking of me, Cata💕

Task: choose TEN SONGS that describe your personal aesthetic / how you see yourself. Bonus points if you write a little explanation for each song, that‘s not a must though.

List under a read more because it turned out really long and includes some very personal and possibly triggering mental health stuff.

I'm tagging @capitanogiorgio @hendos @furiousflamewolf @checoswin and @diegoalvesisgod

1. Nakashima Mika - 僕が死のうと思ったのは

The title loosely translates to "The reason I thought I'd die" or "The time I thought I'd die". Yes, I went there right off the bat.

Let's get something straight: I'm not suicidal. I have never been actively suicidal, despite struggling with depression and anxiety most of my teenage/adult life. However, what this song captures for me is the feeling when you're not actively thinking about killing yourself, but you do have this empty feeling when you think there's no point for you being alive. And that's something I'm very familiar with.

There are a couple lines I wanna highlight, even though the whole song hits me very hard whenever I listen to it:

その木漏れ日でうたた寝したら、虫の死骸と土になれるかな

If I lie down beneath the sunlight streaming through the trees, will I become like the dirt and insect remains?

あなたのような人が生きてる世界に少し期待するよ

If people like you are living in this world, then maybe it’s alright to hope a little too.

The first line does what I talked about to above: it's the feeling when you just lie down and wonder if anything would change if you just disappeared. The second line -- last one of the song -- has more hope. It's when you find a reason to believe in the future and realize there is still a reason to live. Personally, I'm trying to hang very hard on that last thought even when the world seems to be against me.

(Full translation in a pinned comment under the Youtube video)

2. The Ark - Little Dysfunk You

No essay here. I just needed to have The Ark on the list because they're the official soundtrack of my life, the first band whose album I bought myself, and who taught me it was okay not to fit in. I even have a tattoo that says "a little dysfunk" because my best friend and I have been relating to this song long before either one of us realized we weren't neurotypical. It's the very dysfunctional ode to our friendship, and I love it.

3. Elton John - Rocket Man

I feel like this might be a universal experience growing up neurodiverse and/or an outsider. You spend years feeling like you're alone in space, on another planet, and you want to connect with people but at the same time know that once you come back, you still won't be the person others want or expect you to be. The challenge is to accept that and realize it's okay and you don't need to change yourself for others. And it really is hard when you're raised in a society where the odds are stacked against you.

4. Sanni - Jos mä oon oikee

Look, I'm giving you something in Finnish too!

Sanni is one of the Finnish artists whose breakthrough I originally missed because I was living abroad. I only properly discovered her a couple years after moving back, when I was driving a lot for my work and hence listening to the radio much more than I used to. Her songs just kept standing out from the rest: her lyrics had this amazing depth even when she was singing about mundane stuff -- like, she was finding these painful truths I hadn't ever spoken but felt very clearly.

That said, I had to choose the one song that's actually very upfront with this idea of being an outsider and not feeling like a part of this world. The title translates to "If I am real" and that pretty much sums it up. It's a song about feeling lonely in the middle of a crowded room, feeling like no one sees you or cares what you do. I personally have this habit of taking a step back and observing people rather than getting involved -- and even when I do, it rarely feels like it's really me out there, because I'm so used to masking and acting like everyone else just to fit in, you know?

I'll finish this off with my favourite verse, translated by yours truly. The last line especially hits home super hard no matter how many times I hear it.

Rautatieasema maanantaina ruuhkaisa Kaikilla tuntuu olevan kiire ja suunta Mä oon ulkopuolella vaik seison sisällä Jos oon jo kotona miten voi olla koti-ikävä

The railway station on Monday is crowded Everyone seems to be in a rush and have a direction I'm outside even though I'm standing inside How can I feel homesick when I'm already home

5. Shobha - Last Exit To Freedom

Full disclosure: Degrassi has been one of my comfort series for many, many years. When this song was first introduced in Next Class, it hit me really hard because it was woven into this whole storyline about depression and suicide, which at the time spoke to me a lot. I repeat, I have never been suicidal, but I do get the headspace that could drive people into it.

However, listening to it again now, it's mostly the message of hope that shines through to me. It's a song that can take two very different readings depending on what your own baggage is. And the series actually acknowledges that later on, which I think is not only beautiful but also extremely important.

There's empty places in my life and I need to breathe There's empty spaces on the map waiting there for me

I've never felt more free than when I actually drop my responsibilities and just go where I want to go. I need that space to breathe, and that's why it has always been such a relief when I could just pack up and start over in a new place. Some might call it running away from my troubles -- and they wouldn't be completely wrong -- but that doesn't change the fact that I've always valued my own freedom above any arbitrary societal norms.

6. Scandinavian Music Group - Näin minä vihellän matkallani

SMG is another one of those bands I grew up on and have seen live several times, so they needed to be here. This song is more on the "aesthetic" end of scale than how I see myself. In fact, I've many times hoped I could be like the narrator of this song. I'll give you a couple of verses to explain:

Kun minulta viedään kaikki Autan kantamaan Ja kun lopulta kaadun Teen sen näyttävästi

When everything's taken from me I'll help them carry it And when I finally fall I'll do it with a flair

Minä vihellän matkallani Näin minä vihellän matkallani Jos sen on oltava niin Olkoon sitten niin

I'm whistling on my journey See how I'm whistling on my journey If this is how things have to be Then so be it

It's this carefree attitude. Laughing in the face of hardship and controversy. There's another amazing line about getting back to the saddle after you fall and swearing you'd do it all over again. I've never been able to do that, because I carry all my old failures and pains so close to the surface, and could never just shake them off with a shrug, no matter how minor.

But on another level, I keep hearing from people who I thought knew me that I don't seem depressed. And who can blame them: on the outside, it probably looks like I bounce back from hardships really fast, because I'm so used to masking my issues that the moment I'm physically capable of doing it, I will. So you might say this song is a picture of my outer self, though it hardly mirrors what's really going on.

7. Queen - Don't Stop Me Now

I'm a firm believer that if my life was a teen movie, this is the song I'd have playing in the final scene where I'd just go "fuck that" and started dancing with @mirkwoodstock in the middle of the parking lot of something. It's my ultimate party anthem, the one that always has me dancing and singing along no matter where I am.

Back when we were at the university, Nanna and I used to go to this rock'n'roll club in town and they'd always play Don't Stop Me Now close to the end of the night, and it really became our song. Like, no matter how shitty I felt, when it came on, I'd be there, and so would she. And that's why it also deserves to be on the list.

8. Blind Channel - Died Enough For You

Throwing a rare newer song into the mix. The moment I heard this song, I knew I'd be listening to it a lot. There's also an acoustic version if you're not a fan of the genre or if you just wanna have a different perspective. Blind Channel is also representing Finland in Eurovision next week, and I'm living for it.

Advertising aside, Died Enough For You takes me to some really dark times in my life. I've been in relationships, both romantic and not, where I've been carrying the other person and giving so much of myself, risking my own mental health (which was not that good to begin with) and not getting much in return. There comes a point where you have to prioritize yourself and admit that dragging yourself into the same abyss is not going help anyone. Unfortunately, usually it takes more strength to admit that and leave than to stay in the relationship that's hurting you.

I'm still talking to some of these people, but I've learned to give myself a permission to sign off when I notice that by helping them I'm only hurting myself more. Someone else's wellbeing cannot be my responsibility when I'm struggling to keep myself afloat. And I truly hope everyone who is supporting me also knows that.

9. Aqua Timez - 真夜中のオーケストラ

Title translates to "Midnight Orchestra". Yes, it's from Naruto. I discovered it back when I was still more involved in anime fandom stuff, and fell for it again year ago when I binged the anime when to lockdowns started, because I needed an escape.

And what an escape it was. Have you ever heard a song and immediately went "I need a tattoo of this", or is that just me? I'm probably not going to get a tattoo because I don't trust non-Japanese artists to get the kanjis right, but the song still captures something very real about loneliness that's not really visible but still very much there. Like, the moment when you meet a person you can truly relate to and for the first time realize you'd been feeling lonely all that time. That's what this song describes to me.

Below are a few verses towards the end of the song. I've bolded the one that first caught my attention (and which I still have as the title of my Japan sideblog).

真夜中の詩が叫んだ「僕ほんとうは独りが　嫌いだ　大嫌いだ」独りぼっちで　生きてゆけてしまうなんてこと

The song of midnight cried out "I truly hate being alone more than anything" I hate to go on living completely alone…

幸せなんて　小さなスプーンで掬えるくらいで充分なんだ分け合える人がいるか　いないかだけ

All I need is being able to scoop happiness with a tiny spoon so long as I have someone to share it with

(Full translation)

真夜中の詩は叫ぶよ「僕ほんとうは　僕ほんとうは　淋しかった」太陽の眩しさに　かき消されても

The song of midnight cried out "I was truly, truly… lonely" Even if I were to be erased by the sun's radiance

10. Jenni Vartiainen (Apulanta) - Mato

This song, named "Worm", was originally released by Finnish rock band Apulanta in 1997. The lyrics, while they might make sense as individual statements, are basically gibberish when you combine them into one piece and try to understand the meaning. There is none. Anyways, the version I chose is a remake by another artist, first performed on the Finnish version of The Best Singers format. It doesn't make any more sense, I just like it better because Jenni is hot and she made it so much fun.

And the reason it's on this list? Welcome to my brain, folks! Sometimes, especially when I'm overwhelmed by lots of external stimuli, my mind tends to just wander wherever the hell it pleases and make connections even I don't get. It also likes to forget the stuff I said just a second a go, so I can switch subjects on the go without even noticing. It's very soothing to have music that doesn't require me to make those connections when that happens.

And now, I shall close this massive post with the first verse of this masterpiece:

Minä tahdon ulos, tahdon ulos kattilasta Minä tahdon pelastaa vielä sinutkin kiehumasta Minä tahdon lentää ulos vessan ikkunasta Minä tahdon tietää kaiken teidän karkkimaasta

I want out, I want out of this kettle I also want to save you from boiling I want to fly out of the toilet window I want to know everything about your candy land

Stay safe and take care of yourselves my dears💕

#tag meme #long post #music #neurodiversity #mental health #tw suicide #tw depression #tw mental health #tw toxic relationship

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pricechecktranslations · 5 years

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TTDS: The Three Daughters of Sir Torture; Chapter 2

Torture Tower Doesn’t Sleep: The Three Daughters of Sir Torture infomine under the cut

Character Info:

Beritoodo (Beritoad): His animal form is a red toad.

Chenbaren (Chamberlain): A very wealthy merchant in Lion City (no first name given). He owned a coal mine that was found to have diamonds in it (which is where their wealth stems from). He capitalized on the wealth he’d gained to fund new business ventures that kept him rich even after the diamond mine was depleted. He has two kids he loves dearly, and in fact became bedridden from grief after his son grew ill.

Danii Chenbaren (Danny Chamberlain): The younger brother of the Chamberlain siblings, grown into a wise young man. He is the one slated to inherit his father’s business, but has recently fallen to illness (really Ian poisoning him) and given six months to live.

Ian (Ian): Cousin of Danny and Cynthia. He’s also the family doctor. He pretends to care very dearly for his family (and, uh, Cynthia in particular), but in point of fact is a backstabbing, poisoning, rotten scoundrel who was only interested in taking the family fortune for himself. He has a swept-back hairstyle. Claims he graduated from the best medical school in the country. Has pale white skin and an unmanly delicate frame.

Jibetto (Gibbet): Likes black tea, as she finds it calming. Her role is to kidnap new victims for the tower (also silly me, I just realized the cage thing that caught Lloyd is. Well. A gibbet). Wants to always have flowers around her, or else she’ll become depressed. She excels at being able to judge people’s true personalities, either as a result of her experience seeing people’s suffering, or as a talent she’s always had (she’s not sure which). The only one that sleeps. She’s also the most responsible (ex, doesn’t necessarily agree with Rack’s impractical, childish way of doing things but doesn’t say anything because she doesn’t want to impede on her role).

Meiden (Maiden): Often the one to undertake the tower’s repairs. A girl of few words. Apparently, she’ll lose the form she has if she were to leave the tower. Her job is to kill prisoners once they are broken beyond the point of suffering. Doesn’t sleep. The strongest of the girls (overpowered, really).

Rakku (Rack): Never sleeps. According to Gibbet, if she leaves the tower she’ll lose her current form. She’s usually the one to undertake the tower’s cleaning. She’s the one whose actually job it is to torture people. She has a very childish and sadistic personality, preferring to play with her prey to witness their suffering and fear.

Shinshia Chenbaren (Cynthia Chamberlain): Fun note, this can also be written as “sincere”. The eldest of Chamberlain’s children, and a beautiful young lady (she was very young during the Diamond Boom). Has no interest in her father’s business. She’s gotten to be a little bit too close with her cousin Ian (and by that I mean they act more like they’re dating than family, though nothing explicit is said outside of Gibbet’s observations).

Setting Info:

Daiyakeiki (Diamond Boom): Referring to a brief period of time when Lion City flourished with wealth as a result of Chamberlain’s diamond mine.

Rionshiti (Lion City): Has coal mines to the north of town. One of them was found to be a diamond mine, which made the city wealthy for a time until the mine dried up not a full decade later.

Toruchiatou (Torcia Tower): The fifth floor has 4 rooms. Two of them are locked, and the girls don’t have the key. One of the others is a storage room for the torture implements. And the other is a place of worship for their god (this is the one in the center of the floor), where the Pot of Basuzu is. To the right of the shrine are stairs leading to the roof. The tower is sort of infused with death—it kills things that are in it, such as flowers.

Notable Quotes:

“What’s…that…?” Not really a great quote, but it’s Cynthia’s last words.

Plot Summary:

Scene 1

A character (doesn’t say who but it’s Gibbet) is recalling that they’ve been dreaming about a boy and girl they don’t know, a field of flowers, and a bracelet made with a flower (flowers?).

Scene 2

Gibbet is having tea in Torcia’s place of worship. Rack comes down from the roof, and they chat a little, before Maiden shows up, having finished repairs. She tells them they’re almost out of quicklime, so Gibbet says she’ll buy some in town. They talk a little more before Gibbet finishes her tea and gets up to leave.

Beritoad’s voice calls to them from the shrine, informing them that a young man and woman are on the tower’s first floor. They have no weapons—only a hunting knife. People Gibbet talked to the other day at Stella’s bar.

Rack is disappointed—she’d wanted to cut loose with them, but they sound harmless. Though, that kind of thing is why Maiden had to do repairs. They talk a little more, and I think it’s established that Lloyd (they don’t say his name but still) escaped by blowing a hole in the wall and jumping out of it.

They talk a bit more, Gibbet expressing her contempt for humanity and conviction that they can’t stop them, etc. Beritoad’s voice confirms her convictions (they’re better than humans and their sacrifices only increase his and their power), and tells them to go on and get more sacrifices for him.

Scene 3

The girls go to the torture device storage room to select what they’ll use this time. The chapter is mostly exposition on who they are and their role—they just woke up in the storage room with no memory of who they were, and it was Beritoad (their “god”) who informed them that they were torture devices, that Hank was their “father”, that their job was to kill people after torturing them to increase Beritoad’s power to bring Hank back, etc.

They don’t know how they became human or anything like that, though.

Gibbet takes an iron mask for her tool.

Scene 4

This section has a lot of exposition on the Chamberlain family, which is mostly written above but papa Chamberlain calls Cynthia his most precious diamond b’awwww. It talks about how Danny fell ill, and Ian and Cynthia are desperately looking for a cure.

Three months in (ie, three months until Danny kicks it), she happens to meet Gibbet at Stella’s Bar, who tells her about the Pot of Basuzu. Gibbet promised to secretly share the water from the pot with her, hence what she and Ian are doing at the tower.

Scene 5

A little bit on Gibbet and flowers (her flowers wilt before they’ve even started drooping, despite constant care), and then on to her waiting for the intruders on the second floor. Cynthia is happy to see her, and they exchange pleasantries (they tried ringing the bell but no one answered so they came in) before taking them to the third floor to see the pot.

She waits for an opportunity to set the trap, seeing Rack looking down on them from the atrium hole. While feigning concern, she needles at Ian a little bit for fun (mostly on that he’s the only doctor who’s seen to Danny’s condition), having already guessed his true nature.

They talk a little about the tower’s architecture and its history as a torture tower (which upsets Cynthia). Soon enough they’re positioned right under the atrium hole in the ceiling, but Gibbet is stalled by feeling someone’s gaze on her (one that disgusts her more than the victim from the prologue looking at her boobs). It’s Ian.

Gibbet chooses now to spring the trap. Ian and Cynthia freak out as they suddenly have the metal masks that Gibbet chose earlier clapped on their faces (medieval torture pig masks, which make it so you can’t talk, hear, or see, though among all the devices in the tower these are the least painful and Gibbet only uses it every now and then because she feels sorry for it).

As a note, all the girls while inside the tower can summon torture devices at will.

As Gibbet is making them float up to the third floor, Rack leaps down from the hole in the ceiling, having lost patience. She’s using a cat-o-nine tails (whip with multiple heads and, unlike a real one, star blades on the ends) today, as Josephine “seems unwell”. Gibbet sets them down again, and Rack takes to whipping them.

She calls the “painting” that she makes on Ian’s back (blood and scratches) “Man of Budding Stardust” (星屑スターの萌え男, not too sure on the translation). She asks for Gibbet to take the masks off so she can see them suffering (even though they’re suffering more with them on).

With the mask off, Cynthia (who’s freaking out with no comprehension of the situation) runs to Ian’s side. Rack strikes again—but it hits Cynthia, as Ian used her as a human shield. The two of them run for the third floor, Rack leisurely following suit (she even starts counting to 10 like it’s a game of tag).

Scene 6

Now it’s like a game of hide-and-seek, with Rack looking through the rooms for the two. Rack asks Gibbet to wait by the stairs so that they can’t run back down to the second floor.

With nothing to do, Gibbet recalls the dream she had this morning, with the boy and girl and the flowers, etc. The boy in the dream is the one who made the bracelet, and gave it to the girl. He said something to her, but Gibbet doesn’t know what. She’s had the dream a lot lately, and is always irritated and disturbed when she wakes up from it. Beritoad said that Gibbet needing sleep is a penalty for being the one to go out of the tower.

Gibbet hears the sound of one of her flower pots shattering, and realizes that they’ve run up to the fourth floor. If they run into Maiden up there, she’ll kill them, which is bad because they’ve hardly been tortured yet.

Gibbet goes up to the fourth floor and finds Ian, stabbed and dead, and Cynthia covered in blood standing over him with a knife (the illustration does not show her covered in blood, so apparently Maruino has something in common with Ichika). Her makeup is running from tears, and she murmurs madly that she was deceived, that Ian was poisoning Danny, etc.

Gibbet summons a gibbet (described as a mass of wires unfurling into a cage) and catches Cynthia, who’s just babbling about Danny repeatedly. She’s wearing a crude wooden bracelet, possibly a present from Danny, which reminds Gibbet of her dream (specifically, the words “little brother” and “present”).

Scene 7

Gibbet realizes she’s lost consciousness, and Cynthia has escaped. While she’s wondering what the heck just happened, Rack shows up and chews her out for leaving her position at the stairs and for letting one of them die. Then they run to chase Cynthia.

Scene 8

Cynthia is pretty much out of it, having suffered such severe emotional trauma. Yet she pushes on, determined to get the Pot of Basuzu in order to save Danny. She’s reached the worship room (chapel perhaps might be a better word).

She finds the pot there. As she reaches for it, she hears Beritoad’s deep voice tell her not to touch it. She finds Beritoad’s toad form behind the altar, freaks out, trips, looks up, and sees something emitting light. She utters her last words and it (a blade) falls, decapitating her.

Scene 9

Maiden is the one who killed her, using a guillotine. Beritoad assures her she did the right thing, as humans aren’t supposed to enter the shrine. He also reassures her on her usefulness as the one who kills off their victims (even though she’s not as good at causing suffering).

Scene 10

Chamberlain’s grief when he learns that Cynthia and Ian went missing leads to an even worse decline of his health. Raymond visited a week later asking about them, and by chance met with Danny. He then recommended Benji to start attending on the family. Three weeks later Danny is recovering, and Chamberlain is no longer bedridden.

The scene opens on him expressing gratitude to them both. He asks Benji if he might become the new family physician, which Benji takes as an opportunity to segue into telling him how Ian had really been poisoning Danny for his inheritance. Then he leaves, promising to see Danny’s condition the day after tomorrow.

Raymond follows after him, and it’s revealed that Benji only did it to clear his bar tab. He asks Raymond if he’s an acquaintance of Cynthia’s, and he says no (though doesn’t elaborate why he’s looking for her then). Raymond declares his intention to look for her in Torcia Tower, which alarms Benji, despite Raymond saying it’s not his problem.

Benji says that he knows more about the tower than anyone else in town.

#god a part of me wants to translate it but I know I can’t with everything else #mothy has made the characters so interesting #and the torture isn't nearly as bad as i thought with all the euphemisms and vagueness #within my tolerance levels anyway #()torture tower doesn't sleep

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kabhi-haath-pakad-k-tu-mera · 5 years

Text

Evasion

A Manmarziyaan Fanfiction.

Four times Vicky managed to evade Rumi's family and one time he didn't.

The first time was when they had just started seeing each other. She’d been able to sneak him in through the front door early in the morning without waking anyone, which was an accomplishment in itself considering her Chachi was a light sleeper.

They hadn't wasted time in getting down to business as soon as they had gotten to the terrace, managing somehow to clamber onto Daji’s ancient cot amidst their fervent kisses. They almost didn’t hear it above Rumi’s giggles—The clang of brass against brass. They had jumped apart as though electrocuted, looking towards the general direction of the stairs from which they could hear Chachi muttering about spilled water.

A second later both of them jumped into action, looking for discarded clothes and haphazardly putting them on. Rumi was staring anxiously towards the stairs again—there was no way she’d be able to sneak him out if chachi was awake. They could hear her coming up towards them now. It was in that moment precisely that Vicky began appreciating just how close the buildings in Amritsar were.

Within a blink of an eye he had taken off towards their water tank and was jumping towards their neighbouring building as Rumi stared with wide eyes, certain he was going to fall to his death. Miraculously, he didn't. And miraculously, Chachi chose that moment to appear on the scene. Rumi's eyes were still wide, and her hair was mussed, and she was going to have to answer a few questions, but she just hoped Vicky had had sense enough to not leave any marks, because otherwise, it had been a narrow escape and they'd both surfaced unhurt.

II.

The second time was when Chachiji, Chachaji and Kiran were all going to the other end of Amritsar to visit Chachiji’s brother. The only occupants of the house that night were to be Daji—who went into a deep sleep easily enough—and Rumi herself.

This time, they were caught. By Kiran. Their car had broken down halfway and it had gotten late, so they had decided to come back home tired and unmotivated, and it was in that tired and unmotivated state that Kiran had found Vicky and Rumi in varying states of undress, and if she hadn't been so tired and shocked and embarrassed, she probably would’ve screamed. Instead, she just left the room very quickly.

The two could only stare at the halfway ajar door for the longest moment. Then Vicky got off Rumi with lightning speed, and started pulling on his clothes and passing Rumi hers. That night, Vicky realized that the distance between Rumi’s balcony and the other house was very jumpable. Until after Kiran came back in, on the prodding of her mother, Rumi was wondering if this was it. She’d probably be married off to some idiot now. It was a life well lived, though.

Kiran only stared at Rumi for the longest time before Rumi asked her the question that had been bothering her for all this while.

“Did you tell Chachi anything?”

That night, Rumi gained a negative reply, and an allie.

III.

The third time round was better, if something like that could ever be, because Rumi and Vicky were both very much dressed this time and doing things that could be considered innocent. After all, to any onlooker, walking together through a field would be considered quite platonic, even if Rumi’s hair was wilder than usual and both of their clothes looked as if they’d been rolling a stack of hay.

To be fair, it really wasn't Rumi’s idea to stray from their routine but she had to agree it did take suspicion off of her bedroom. Needless to say she was more than a little surprised when Chachiji confronted her about it. Rumi’s bewilderment at her statement was genuine—mostly because she had been wondering why on Earth Chachiji had decided to go towards the fields anyway when she was allergic to the smell of the hay—and that was probably why Chachiji had readily believed her intelligent reply of,

“What?”

“Nothing, it was just the next door neighbour spreading rumors again.”

Chachiji then left to attend to her dal on the stove, and was hence unable to hear Rumi heave a sigh of relief and mutter under her breath how Mr. Next door needed to get a job.

IV.

They should admittedly have been more careful by the fourth time round, because by then gossip had really begun, and it was starting to trickle into Rumi’s household too. She was mostly successful in shutting people up by glaring daggers at them—which she was admittedly pretty good at—but she wasn't always around to see who was badmouthing her, unfortunately. So by the fourth time round, she had already had a very uncomfortable conversation with Chachiji, in which she had earnestly denied any interest in boys, let alone boys with electric blue highlights who claimed to be DJs.

Rumi wasn’t a great liar, or even a particularly okay one, but Kiran was even worse, and so she wondered for a while if it was her own interrogation or her sister’s that had given away the fact that something fishy went on in her bedroom during the early hours of the morning. Maybe if she were better at people-reading she would’ve realized that Chachi wasn’t really convinced at all, and would’ve foreseen her wanting to get inside her room the next morning. Her banging on the door had taken Rumi by surprise, and it had taken her a minute to realize what was going on. The next part had become a ritual, unfortunately, of putting on clothes at lightning speed and of wiping away sweat and thinking up good excuses for whatever situation they were in, and Vicky was out of her threshold in record time.

Chachiji was decidedly unconvinced when Rumi told her that she had been practicing her dance, and Rumi and Kiran both looked on with bated breath as Chachiji peered inside the room suspiciously. She relented finally, and went downstairs after giving Rumi a curious look as both sisters looked at her retreating figure silently, not looking at each other.

“You need to find a better place,” said Kiran after a full minute, and went back to the book she was reading. Rumi grimaced.

The fifth time was also the first time they were caught. Rumi wasn't expecting it, because this was an entire month after the last time, and there really hadn’t been any mention of whatever talk the birds were carrying these days. Rumi had taken Kiran’s advice and their most recent escapades hadn’t taken place in her bedroom, so she should really have been in the clear this time round, even if Daji was sitting right outside.

The banging on the door had shaken them both out of their reverie, and thrown Rumi into a state of panic because this was the one time she had been mostly certain they were okay. Vicky, however, jumped off the bed and began to look for his discarded T-Shirt within a moment and put it on as quickly as he could while the noise outside increased. Rumi could vaguely hear Kiran exclaiming,

“but what are you going to do?”,

and Daji calling to her from over her Chachi’s count of “1… 2… 3!” just as Vicky was about to jump off.

She hadn’t thought they would actually break into her room, and neither had Vicky, who was now in Chachi’s clutches. She looked briefly at the group assembled in her bedroom, and looked down abashedly when she saw the disappointment in Daji’s eyes.

“Put your shirt on straight,” he said, and Rumi looked down on her own kurti, which was worn the way it was supposed to be, and then at Vicky, who had apparently put on his T-Shirt inside-out in his haste. She gnawed at her lip as the radio chose that exact moment to play an advert for a matrimonial service. She looked up again as Vicky went,

“Uh… I’ll get going now,”

and making for the balcony instead of the door—at which Daji called him out again—and saw Chachaji standing outside looking confused. Rumi sighed. Perfect. Just perfect.

~Finite~

#manmarziyaan #Vicky Kaushal #Tapsee Pannu #Abhishek Bachchan #bollywood fanfiction #bollywood

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joo-heo-n · 7 years

Text

Crime Breeds the Creative Artist

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Member: Hyungwon

Word Count: 2,000

a/n: Here is the second part, please enjoy!

Summary: “The job of the artist is always to deepen the mystery.” ~ Francis Bacon

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

You were tired to say the least, weekends were plenty full of tourists, hence the museum became a full-house. On such days, there were several tour guides, following different routes throughout the three-story building so that not everyone followed just one person. You ended up receiving a tour path on the second floor, not your usual, but you took it nonetheless. You made sure to study the day before all the paintings and pieces, such as sculptures, since you had become accustomed to the third floor paintings.

Anyhow, you were tired, your cheeks felt weak from smiling all day and you were sure you were going to dream with art of all shapes and colors from all eras and backgrounds.

You watched as the countless visitors continued to enter the floor as others exited it. Although the tours had come to an end, you were still required to walk around and ask if anyone had questions as well as watch for wandering hands and cameras after pieces. Without much realization, you bumped into a group of people, apologizing immediately and returning to your task, finding a woman’s curious fingers reaching for a sculpture, “Oh ma'am, please don’t-” you barely were able to say before a familiar voice called your name, making you turn in perplexity.

You found your number one fan staring right at you, he waved as he made his way towards you, wearing his signature charming smile. “Oh, hi, you’re here again?” you teased as he reached you, hands in the pockets of his coat as he scoffed, “I actually came to pay my last visit” he stated and you instantly felt your shoulders tempted to drop.

“Oh no, why is that?” you asked, a hint of disappointment in your voice. He nodded and looked around before turning back to you, “I had a business trip in the city, so I was staying nearby but it’s time for me to go back” he said plainly, to which you felt yourself grow more disappointed at. No chance you’d get to know him now, when he wasn’t even a local.

“Ah I see, that’s a shame, you seemed to have really liked it around here” you commented, you had your job to thank for for being able to make conversation with almost anyone, because the man before you was nearly impossibly handsome and if you didn’t have an audience to talk to nearly every week, you were sure you wouldn’t be able to chat up with him at all.

He chuckled lightly and averted his gaze from you, his expression suddenly becoming flustered. He then cleared his throat and met your gaze once more with a sheepish smile, “It could have been the place that I liked” he stated, and without much thought you let out a nervous chuckle, “Well what else would it have been- ah that painting upstairs really mesmerized you” you said, using your hand to muffle your chuckle. “Mm, yeah the painting could have been mesmerizing I suppose” he replied with a nod, his humor right behind your own, “Do you memorize your tour information passionately or because it is your job?” he asked abruptly, making you continue to chuckle, “Passionately, I studied art history diligently” you admitted to which he raised his eyebrows at.

“Impressive” he commented, bringing his arms to cross over his chest, and you nodded in agreement. “You aren’t so bad yourself, you seem to know a lot” you said to which he chuckled at, “I’m a little bit of a fan, yes” he admitted, and you felt yourself instantly become aware that you were still working and had things to get back to. Your smile faltered as you sighed, “I wish I could keep talking but I have to keep spreading my art knowledge” you said and his eyes widened in realization, “Oh that’s right, sorry for keeping you” he apologized. You shook your head in dismissal and waved your hands before you, “No not at all, it was great talking to you, please make sure to stop by again when you get the chance” you said, holding your hand out for him to shake.

As he took your hand, a few people crowded behind him as they began to observe the sculpture, causing him to almost forcibly be moved towards you. He continued holding your hand as he apologized to you for the sudden proximity, but all you could do was shake your head in a flustered manner as he continued to hold your hand gently. He let go slowly and as he did he looked down and bent down, making you suddenly very bewildered. “You dropped this” he said, coming to stand once again to hand to you your name tag which allowed you to access the building and specific rooms for employees. You instantly gasped and took it, “Oh no, thank you!” you said, bringing it back to the clip at your chest, “How did I not notice it came off?” you added, knitting your eyebrows together.

“It happens” he commented before looking around once more and coming back to meet your gaze, “I won’t hold you any longer, I’m really leaving this time” he then said and you smiled, “Right, thanks again” you said to which he simply nodded and waved goodbye to as he then turned around and disappeared amongst all the people.

You couldn’t help feeling disappointed, but mostly weary at not being able to leave for the next hour or so.

You paced the third floor, oddly quiet without no one else but you and the art work occupying it. You made sure everything was in good shape before the upcoming event of the museum, two of your co-workers and yourself checked your assigned floor. You searched for moved sculptures or finger stained frames when suddenly you heard a loud scream from the second floor, making you jolt back in your spot. By impulse, you quickly made your way down the stairs and found your co-worker from the first floor also rushing up the stairs. Both of you turned to your second floor co-worker who was panting as she stood against one of the walls. “What the hell, what happened?” you asked, making your way towards her as she began to chuckle nervously, “T-The camera- it had like a short circuit and fucking exploded!” she managed, pointing at one of the cameras on the ceiling.

You squinted as you stared at the pieces of the device hanging from the ceiling, “Go to the camera room and talk to security” you said to your co-worker from the first floor, who at your command, ran to the room. “Crap, that scared the life out of me… I thought I had accidentally broken something” she admitted, a hand over her heart as she swallowed hard. “It probably overheated or something” you suggested, getting closer to where the shattered plastic and glass lay on the floor.

“Why’d you send him to check the cameras?” she asked, and you let out a sigh with a shrug, “I don’t know, just so he could see what security told him, we can’t have more cameras exploding” you said with a sigh, “Let me finish checking upstairs that way we can leave already” you added and she nodded. You let your shoulders drop in relief, already making your way to the staircase. As you reached the top floor, you instantly regretted your decision.

Two men dressed in black, masked, turned to you and immediately one held a gun up at you. Your heart rate spiked, and a pang of fear spread through your stomach as you froze in your spot, staring at the man a few feet away from you.

The other man was making his way to the back, a painting in hand as he exited the floor through an employee backdoor. “Y/N!” your co-worker shouted from the bottom floor and you gasped, feeling your heart hammering hard against your sternum, as you began to feel yourself shake. “Come with me” the man spoke in a husky voice, approaching you and you began to shake your head pleadingly, “N-No, please, no” you begged, retreating a few steps before he had neared you and taken your arm harshly, then quickly searched your pockets and threw to the floor your cellphone. The two of you began walking in a rush while he pulled you with him to where the other man had gone. Without much realization, tears began to escape your eyes as his gun remained directed towards your head, all while the two of you went into the fire exit staircase.

At the last floor, his partner waited for him, your co-workers and the security guards sat tied up against the staircase and your stomach suddenly dropped. Even though you had felt some relief at seeing they had not been murdered, that feeling was soon disappearing into thin air as your hands got brought to your back and became tied. You thought they’d sit you down alongside the rest but more panic made its way into your system as soon as you became blindfolded and got pulled to continue walking. You were able to hear your co-worker whimper as you were taken away.

“Please don’t hurt me- Please just let me go” you begged over and over again until suddenly you were feeling the breeze from outside, disorienting you as you were abruptly being pulled in another direction, nearly tripping over your own feet if it weren’t for the tight grip your captor had on your arm. “Get in- Let’s go!” a deep voice said lowly as you heard the door of a car open before you were put inside. At this point there was no denying your crying and trembling, never did you ever think this would happen and how clueless you’d bee about the whole thing. You wanted to continue to beg but your crying wouldn’t let you and the panic was not helping your thought process.

“Please” you whimpered ever so often, “Please let me go” you hiccuped, your heart continuing to slam against your chest. No one silenced your cries or pleads and it never helped your nervous state, beginning to blank out because of the helplessness and fear. You no longer thought of much except the fact that you might die, or worse, that if you lived, you’d be tortured. You tried taking deep breaths to ease yourself but it all proved to be in vain because in a few seconds, you were being ushered out of the vehicle and taken who knew where.

You heard more voices this time, all different and coming from different directions, “Get in, c’mon” one said by your ear, startling you as you then realized you were being pushed inside a car again. You didn’t know how long the car ride had been but it felt eternal and your crying seemed to have come to a halt, as if you no longer had tears. Finally you were being dragged out of the car and forced to walk. The same voices followed around you, “Take her upstairs” one said, and you felt tugged at, making you walk up a staircase. Before you knew it, you were being told to sit, the blindfold still around your eyes.

“What are you going to do to me?” you asked, your voice breaking mid-sentence and trembling.

No one responded but you were able to hear someone leave the room as you continued to stand in place, too afraid to move. After a few seconds, you tried sitting slowly, bringing your knees to your chest and letting your head fall back against the wall you had found to be behind you. You felt defeated, and hopeless, there was no way you were going to be able to escape when your hands were at your back and you were blindfolded. All you could hope for was that maybe someone would find you before anything worse happened.

#monsta x #monsta x hyungwon #monsta x fanfic #monsta x scenarios #monsta x imagines #monsta x angst #monsta x fluff #monsta x au #chae hyungwon #hyungwon fanfic #hyungwon fluff #hyungwon angst #hyungwon au #hyungwon scenarios #hyungwon imagine

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msephy · 7 years

Text

Upbringing: chap 5/?

Finally chapter 5 @_@ Sorry for the long wait.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Cross-posted to AO3

Earth ? - Jason Todd

Jason parked his stolen Ducati next to the Batmobile, disappointed at the idea to leave it there. He removed his helmet and followed Bruce to the main platform, looking around. The Cave looked much the same as Jason remembered it from back when he’d been Robin. In his world, it had probably changed since, accumulating shinier toys and harsh memories, probably gaining in security what it lost in gloominess.

But in the Earth he was now – could he attribute a number himself, he wondered – Bruce was still relatively new to the cowl. Well. Newer, in any case. He looked terribly young to Jason’s eyes but, after a fashion, Jason had realized this Bruce was actually still a couple of years older than him. Which meant he’d been doing this for maybe half a decade already.

It was still kind of weird to see him so… green. Despise kid-Bruce being older than Jason, they had the same amount of experience in the field. Jason, after all, had started being Robin at 14, seven years earlier. Even if his year training with Talia’s teachers and the six months he’d spent brainless where not to be taken into account, that still made five years.

And, obviously, he’d had a better mentor in the person of Bruce himself.

Jason pushed those thoughts away to scan the Cave. However familiar, it wasn’t the one he remembered – and even that one he hadn’t visited in years. He didn’t know the escape routes, the available tools. Besides, observing the place could only teach him about kid-Bruce (he really had to find a way to differentiate them, if only in his thoughts, or he’d soon drive himself crazy).

The bat-computer stood in the middle of the room, clearly the heart of the operation. The penny and dinosaur stood in the background. Peculiarly, the Joker card was missing.

At the bottom of the stairs leading up to the manor were aligned several suits. Not all were Batman’s. Apparently, there were at least two sidekicks, or one who had grown older; but their technology looked close enough for Jason to bet on two different people.

The first suit was obviously Robin’s, despite the lack of scaled underwear. And it was adult-sized. A soon-to-be-former Robin, possibly.

The second costume had a darker edge. Not only it avoided yellows and reds to focus on harder tones of black and grey, but its gauntlets wore short spikes which would certainly give its bearer an edge in hand-to-hand combat, and there were straps for additional batarangs along the thighs.

Jason felt himself tense. He could take Bruce alone – more or less – and might have been able to get away if he had to face him and his Robin. But with two sidekicks around, he clearly was overmatched. He’d been a fool to come here.

On the other hand, he couldn’t have found a way to go back to his world all by himself. And while being around this Earth, he’d better learn more about the local vigilantes.

“You’ve got yourself quite a family,” he commented, pointing his thumb toward the suits. The local Jason might be kid-Bruce’s brother, the man still seemed to have the need to pick up strays.

Bruce pursed his lips, nodding reluctantly. So, of course, Jason felt the need to push.

“Robin and… what’s the demon brat called? Is it bird-themed as well?”

This time, Bruce actually flinched. Really, B-man?

“Don’t assume that our worlds are similar,” Bruce then said in his sternest tone.

Jason snorted.

“I won’t, if you tell me the eldest doesn’t call himself Robin.”

Bruce grumbled, heading for the computer without answering. Jason rolled his eyes.

“I thought so. It is Dick, then? And, what, Damian? No one else?”

Bruce frowned at this latest question, so Jason supposed Tim Drake wasn’t around. Good. Even though their relationship had calmed down since the early days, he had no wish to play friends with his replacement’s doppelganger, who wouldn’t know anything about their history and might easily trigger Jason’s anger without meaning to.

To be truthful, it was weird to interact with doppelgangers in general; and the closer they were from the originals, the weirder it got.

“We’re not here to talk about me,” Bruce growled, his voice almost as impressive as it would become ten years down the line.

“Do you even have the technology to travel through world?” Jason shot back.

Bruce tensed– and, suddenly, so did Jason, a weight settling in his stomach. Somehow, he didn’t think the people from his Earth would bother looking for him. Hell, they probably wouldn’t even notice he was gone. They certainly wouldn’t miss him.

Though they might try to find a way to send Jason Wayne back. Hopefully.

“Is there any kind of Justice League here?” Jason settled on asking. “Not a big fan, but if there’s nothing on this planet which might help me…”

“I’ll contact them.”

The tone was definitive as a door closing. Jason grit his teeth.

“I came here, didn’t I? I’ll play by the rules. But if you want to find your brother again? You’ll need my help, and I won’t be able to provide if it you shut me down.”

Bruce observed him silently through the unnerving gaze of the cowl. Then, he turned back to the computer.

“We’ll see.”

Jason clenched his fists. Were Bruces from all Earths assholes? He tried to fought back his anger– then just put back his helmet.

“You know what? Fuck you.”

He walked straight back to the Ducati, determined to go. A surprised gasp from the top of the stairs interrupted his righteous anger.

“Uncle Jason!”

Shocked by the eagerness in the familiar voice, he turned back to find a smiling 19-year-old Dick Grayson beaming at him.

###

Earth 1 - Jason Wayne

Jason’s chin slipped from his closed fist, startling him awake. It was starting to get really late, even for Bruce. Or did this one patrol even later into the night? He glanced at the bottom corner of the main screen in front of him. 5:12. You couldn’t even qualify this as night anymore.

He massaged the bridge of his nose, wishing for a cup of coffee even though he knew how bad of an idea that would be. When he’d gotten downstairs to the Cave three hours before, it had been because he couldn’t find sleep. Pushed by habit, he’d settled in front of the computer, checking Bruce’s status.

Alright, he might have had to slightly hack into the system, but it wasn’t that different from the one back home and the local Bruce’s thoughts patterns seemed close enough to his little brother’s to make the task easier.

Jason hadn’t pushed the vice to the point to actually talk into the com’. He’d just monitored Bruce’s vitals. The Robin suit was at his place in the armory; Damian must have come back early because it was a school night. At least Bruce paid attention to that.

But that meant he’d been finishing the night alone. Jason couldn’t force himself to get back to bed knowing as much. So he’d stayed there. As he always did.

An alert popped up on the main screen. Yawning, Jason checked it. It was merely an update from the surveillance laid by the GCPD on the docks. He flagged it as irrelevant and filed it in the Maroni section.

Of course, Bruce would double check everything he’d done, to make sure Jason hadn’t corrupted the information, which would possibly take him more time than if Jason had just left the work to him. But he was bored.

They’d given him some clothes - Bruce’s own, he assumed, since they mostly fit (if Alfred had bought them, he would have gotten the correct size, because he was magical) - so at least he hadn’t had to hang out in his suit for one more day. Alfred had provided him with a room, and a delicious shepherd's pie.

What they hadn’t provided was anything to keep him busy. Hence, the insomnia. He was enough prone to those without adding to it the lack of action - and the worry. He tried hard not to think of how his Bruce must be panicking over his disappearance.

Maybe he should just go back upstairs. He glanced longingly toward the mats. Or he could practice some katas? He’d shamelessly stolen a set of training clothes after an hour passed in the chill of the Cave. He should have thought it would be cold before getting downstairs in simple pajamas.

But no. Adrenaline would only make sleep more difficult to come whenever Bruce would finally show up. And he wasn’t going back to bed as long as the damn fool hadn’t made it back safely.

Who did wait for him, the rest of the time? Alfred? Jason thought he’d heard the old butler peaking at the top of the stairs about two hours ago. He shuddered while picturing his wrinkled face. Alfred was still a rock, of course, but he was getting old. Hell, he had to be at least 70 in this universe, hadn’t he? Bruce couldn’t ask him to keep going as he had a decade earlier.

And nevermind Alfred; Bruce was almost 40. He should be the one on computer duty, making sure his kids didn’t get hurt. Making sure there was someone waiting for them when they got back, with something warm to drink and a few plasters to patch them up. Someone to have their backs if they needed it.

Jason sighed. This wasn’t his world. It wasn’t his place to criticize. Not that his Bruce listened to him.

The low sound of an engine echoed in the Cave’s entrance, announcing the return of the place’s master. Finally. The car parked in its slot - Jason idly wondered if Dick had labeled it ‘the Batmobile’ in this world as well - and Bruce stepped out of it. Despite the cowl, Jason could see his surprised.

“Hey. I couldn’t sleep,” he explained. He didn’t feel the need to apologize; no one had forbidden him to come downstairs.

Bruce grunted as only answer. Of course. As he walked toward him, Jason noticed a slight stiffness in his pace. He frowned.

“The hips or the back?” he asked, getting on his feet and reaching for the first aid kit. Unsurprisingly, it was in the exact same place than in his world. Alfred’s organizational skills, he guessed.

Bruce didn’t answer, removing his cowl and putting it on the chair, glaring. Jason raised his eyebrows, unimpressed.

“If it’s the hips, I’ll leave it to you. If it’s the back, I won’t let you go to bed with an injury that will bleed all over Alfred’s sheets. But maybe you can bend your elbows backward in this universe?”

Bruce scowled while pulling away his gloves, but this time, it was resigned. Jason pointed the medical table. Bruce sat on it with an irritated sigh.

The suit was a bit different than the one Jason was used to, but not so much to make it difficult to remove the upper part, not when the protections had been deactivated. There was a nasty slash right below Bruce’s left shoulder blade. Just a flesh wound, nothing deep enough to have reached internal organs, but it still required stitches. And, of course, it had been done early in the night, which meant coagulated blood had glued it to the suit.

Jason peeled the fabric away as gently as possible. Thankfully, he managed not to reopen the wound. The he started working with the ease of habit.

The number of scars scattered on this Bruce’s skin was frightening. He felt once more relieved to have surrendered to Alfred’s ministration when he’d been 13; then accepted to stay at the manor with Bruce; then demanded to go with Bruce when he’d decided to wander around the world to shape himself into the Bat.

Jason didn’t make any comment, though. He put a bandage over the wound once done, not bothering to list recommendations Bruce certainly knew as well as he did.

He closed zipped the first aid kit shut and put it back to its place, making a note on Alfred’s supply list to buy other stitches to replace the set he’d used. Bruce observed him silently, then put on a loose t-shirt before settling in front of the computer, his back straight so his wound wouldn’t touch the seat back. He noted how the access was opened and his files in order, but didn’t comment.

Jason turned the electric kettle on while Bruce typed his report. When the water boiled, he prepared a mug of matcha tea and put it next to the keyboard. This time, Bruce flinched – then he took a sip. Looking up at Jason, he nodded, once.

Jason smiled, then left the Cave, satisfied to have seen Bruce’s shoulder relax at last.

#byme #jason todd #bruce wayne #fanfiction #batfamily #jason wayne #my fics

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