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jar-of-maise · 9 months

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"Um Lyney," Paimon began, in an uncharacteristically hesitant voice.

"Oh? It isn't like you to be so shy, please go on, what's on your mind?" Lyney asked, looking up at her curiously.

Paimon looked at Aether anxiously, then floated a little closer to him, shedding sparkles as she flew, "well, some of the kids were telling us about how you tell them about fairytales..." She begins.

"Ah!" Lyney snaps his fingers, "are you here to ask me to tell you some stories? Well why didn't you say so?" He hops up easily, gracefully revealing several embossed hardcover books which fall out of his hat.

"Take a pick! There are many here, don't be shy," Lyney says cheerfully, showing the books off happily, "this one is a personal favourite," he winks at Aether.

The cover is of a golden-haired prince, drawing a sword from his sheath, sparkles dance around his figure. White armour adorns his strong figure. "It's a pretty cover...but," Paimon begins, raising a finger.

Lyney raises his eyebrows, "oh? Not to your taste? That's alright," he twirls the book around on his fingers, then tosses it up in the air, where it disappears after a sharp snap of his fingers.

"How about this one? It's about a mermaid and her journey to the human world," Lyney offers, smiling at Paimon and Aether as he shows them the book.

"Well, they're all very nice but–" Paimon tries again.

"Goodness! Have you always driven such a hard bargain?" Lyney asks comically, shaking his head, the books tumble down from his hands as he sighs in defeat.

"Lyney." Lynette says with a deadpan look on her face, "they probably want you to tell them a specific story."

"Yeah!" Paimon exclaims, "thank you Lynette!"

"No worries," Lynette says, crossing her arms and nodding, "my brother does have a habit of talking too much," she says, tail swishing side to side.

"Hey! I'm still here you know!" Lyney cries.

Lynettte fixes him with a very exasperated glare, "I know."

"Oh Lynette, how could you be so cruel to your dear brother?" Lyney whines, slumping, a few cards slipping out from underneath his hat. They fall sadly onto the ground, like limp autumn leaves.

"Um..." Aether begins, "we were hoping to hear about the story you created for the kids here," he says hopefully.

"The story...I made?" Lyney asks, perking up, "you want to hear my stories?" He asks in a tone so innocent that Aether can't help but feel endeared by his excitement.

"Yeah! Of course we do, you're a great storyteller Lyney!" Paimon cheers, "yeah!" Aether agrees, nodding vigorously.

"Well then," Lyney gathers his cards in one sweeping motion, shoving them back into his hat, "I can't disappoint my audience then, can I? Please take a seat, the show will be put on momentarily." Lyney grins, gesturing at the table in front of them.

"Please help yourself," Lynette says in a monotone voice as Paimon and Aether slid into their seats. She places her hat onto the table, and once she removes it, trays and plates of snacks appear magically.

"Wow! Thank you! Paimon's digging in then!"

Lynette nods, satisfied, she pours herself a cup of tea and takes a long sip from her cup.

"So Lyney," Paimon says to the magician, who's mumbling to himself as they help themselves.

"Hm? What's up?" Lyney asks curiously.

"The children here said that this story was called, 'The Thief's Hope' but, they also said that it has a sad ending," Paimon comments, "is that true?"

"Ah, you want to hear that story," Lyney says, there's an unreadable expression on his face, "well I wouldn't say it's that sad, uh, it's just not your typical fairytale."

"Yet the kids still love this story," Aether says, watching as Lyney puffs out his cheeks in slight disagreement.

"Yeah I don't really know why," Lyney laughs, slumping onto a nearby couch with a poof!

"Hey, at least that means you're a good story teller!" Paimon says comfortingly, nibbling on a cupcake as she talks.

"Perhaps," Lyney looks at Aether, then at Lynette. His eyes are wistful as he gazes at his hands silently. Outside, the rain was pouring ceaselessly. A cold wind brushed by and the water rapped on the windows. Lyney thought for a long time, then he just sighed fondly, fingers tracing a seam on his shorts before smiling brightly at Aether and Paimon.

“Alright! Let me tell you the story!” He jumps up from the chair and bows deeply, “Lynette, if you would please,” he bows towards his sister who sighs, “fine," she says.

Lynette snaps her fingers and just like magic, a large backdrop appears behind Lyney, Paimon gasps in surprise and Aether leans forward curiously. It’s a depiction of the Fontaine streets, and the desolate piece of artwork is crafted with life-like accuracy.

“Allow me to take you back in time,” Lyney steps forth, a hand tucked behind his back as he twirls his hat on his fingers.

“There once lived a young boy, he was very poor and often worried about when his next meal would come by,” Lyney snapped his fingers and a little doll fell down from somewhere above his head, it was neatly stitched together, yet dirty and battered as though it had been abused and never loved.

Lyney smiled and nodded at Lynette who waved her hand. A spotlight shone onto the makeshift “stage” focusing on the tiny doll who picked himself up and began to walk around.

“He was often bullied, looked down upon and slowly, he found himself pushed to the darkest streets, where the light did not fall,” as he spoke, Lyney flicked his fingers, they appeared as dark, long shadows on the harsh light of the backdrop and the doll was flung away.

“But he never forgot what being in the light felt like,” Lyney’s voice echoed from somewhere, like a omnipresent narrator. As he spoke, the little doll picked itself up and began to stumble slowly towards the audience, “he longed to go back, there was a hole in his heart that he wanted to fill. A void that was as dark as the night sky.”

The inky blackness that suddenly filled the stage was so desperate and suffocating that Paimon audibly gasped. No light shone, indeed, it seemed as though even the oxygen was being removed from their lungs. Aether wondered if this too, was a part of the magic.

"He tried to fill his heart with the scraps that littered the streets," Lyney's voice began to speak again, "he hoarded those little things zealously, even they had no love for him and he had no love for them."

A small pinprick of light appeared on the stage and focused on Lyney's figure, he stood in the centre, with a grave expression on his face.

"His fingers were nimble and his feet too, were agile," Lyney smiled, a small doll appearing on his hand.

"He took the memories and love of others, he tried to light up the darkness in his heart with the light and warmth of others." Lyney procured a candle, "but he could not chase away the cold in his heart, nor could he brighten any corner of that room, for it was locked!"

Lynette grimanced into her cup, but begrudgingly waved her hand. The flame of the candle died out as she waved her hand and Lyney smiled widely.

"How should I light up this dark heart?" Lyney walked across the stage, making a thoughtful expression, "Ah! The boy realised something, when he was wandering the streets one day!"

Lyney smiles, carefully placing the doll down, "people crave the unknown, they are fascinated by fantasy…and what better way to achieve that than–” a sudden burst of streamers erupted from behind his back, “magic?”

The backdrop changed, it was a light and happy scene, where the doll reappeared, looking much cleaner and put together, the doll was surrounded by other dolls, they were smiling at him.

"If I can't love myself...and I can't take it from others, what if I made them give it to me? That was what the thief thought," Lyney grinned, blowing a shower of confetti hearts at his audience.

Aether smiled slightly when some of the paper brushed his cheek.

"So he began to try and perform, with the few skills he had learned from stealing. No matter how he tried to mask his true self, this boy was a thief," Lyney pointed at the heinous doll with an accusatory finger.

"The truth was that he was a thief, and that all his story-truths were lies." Lyney declared.

Aether and Paimon smiled knowingly, Lynette helped herself to a muffin. She was enjoying the chance to enjoy as many treats as she could.

“So the thief had finally found something that could fill up his empty heart," Lyney kept talking, "but still, the feeling of emptiness persisted. So he kept performing, kept going, just to chase that feeing," butterflies flew out from Lyney's finger tips as he spoke.

“The treacherous thief lied his way to the top. He tricked people ceaselessly, putting on a show that the masses would love. Lies were piled up on falsehoods. The thief could no longer return to the shadows of his past."

Lyney made a shape with him fingers where the light reflected it's shadow onto the backdrop, "The Thief looked down at the world from on top of the tower he’d built. It was exquisitely crafted, held together by fabricated illusions. He was a sinner, a devil who’d escaped from hell who was undeserving of the light he had gained."

Aether's eyes narrowed slightly, he sipped some tea but listened attentively, Lyney noticed this change, smiling to himself he thought, 'ah he gets it.'

Lyney kept talking, "Like a famous actor, the parts that he had to play continued to increase. People’s lives were entrusted to his hands at night, and in the daytime, he stole people’s hearts. He had never been bested and life itself, was the stage for his craft.

He sat under the night sky one lonely evening, gazing out into the inky darkness. The thief looked at the stars, they had always sparkled so beautifully, untouched by pain or sorrow. He wanted that light, even though he knew he could never emulate that gentle radiance.

That was when he met her,” Lyney’s voice took on a reminiscing tone and suddenly Aether was seized by a strange thought, was this just a mere story? He had no time to ponder this question, because Lyney was moving onto the next part of the story.

”Who was she?" Lyney wondered aloud, "well, perhaps she could be described like a burst of sunlight in a cold, frosty winter, or a wonderful flower blossoming in a wasteland...but no," he paused, "she was more than just those."

"She was the steady roll of waves on the ocean, she was the star that never left the night sky," it seemed like Lyney had forgotten his magic in that moment. He stood before them, as a performer still, but Aether realised that this was not only a story, but a reflection of Lyney himself.

"She was not words, she was a feeling," Lyney almost whispered to himself. Yet in the breathless silence that beheld the room, he may as well have shouted those words. Upon beholding this vulnerable side of Lyney, Aether couldn't help but smile sadly.

"The Thief was a certain kind of summertime sadness, one that spring couldn't cure," Lyney said slowly, withered petals falling with every step he took backward, away from the audience.

"He had no words that could describe her, for all the stories The Thief had spun, all the lies he'd said, there was no word he knew that could speak about the truth in her. But The Thief liked to call her mon armour," Lyney smiled bitterly, there was a hatred in the way he uttered those words.

Aether was taken back, but he didn't know why Lyney seemed to dislike those last few words so much.

"Her presence was gentle, yet searing. To The Thief who couldn't remember hugs or caresses, her touches was an uncomfortable, addicting burn."

Sitting in the audience, Lynette looked at her reflection in her cup sadly. This, was his way of atoning for lies, by weaving truths into his stories so that he might not spin falsehoods. She knew Lyney better than anyone else, to most this was obvious, but they didn't know about the hopes of her older brother. Past his light, and his shadow, was a young boy who loved to love and be loved.

That, was also a kind of truth.

"This Thief," Lyney murmured, "he was a haunted house, hollow from inside to out, plagued by a restless soul that was more focused on destroying the construct that kept it existing than anything else. Every now and then, a wind would rush through and open half-closed, weeping wounds.

The people who sojourned in this house did not help the soul, they loved only the mystery, the romance, the unattainable nature of his performance. And often left the house shabbier than when they first entered.

But not mon armour, she came in, like a little ghost. Planting purple wisteria in his mind, with wonderful trees that entwined their roots around the house and bound him to the earth. Camomile grew from his scars, moss and dewdrops patched his wounds.

She planted gardens of lavender in his mind, so that his anxiety might be soothed.

If there was anyone that might make him feel like life was worth living on, it would be her. A gentle love, that didn't demand. How funny, The Thief had never once known how to care, he did not think about the emotion itself. Never committed." Lyney nodded, though Aether didn't know if he was talking to himself or his audience.

"Yet he tried, loving was clumsy. He couldn't make sense of the lines he was meant to colour inside and often scribbled outside of those boundaries. But at least, he was less transient, and more of a home now." Lyney drifted off into his own thoughts, "my love, what a wonderful name, if only..."

Aether lets him mumble to himself, Paimon also floats over to him with a soft, melancholic smile. "Poor Lyney..." she says quietly, "the story must mean a lot to him."

"I think there was a bit more than just that," Aether comments, but refrains from saying some of his other thoughts, knowing Paimon would just freak out.

"My brother finds it hard to express himself," Lynette chips in, "thank you for listening to him," she bows her head.

"It's okay, please tell him that we'd listen to him anytime!" Paimon exclaims waving her hands.

"Thank you, I will."

"I know you're not much of a talker, but we'll also listen to you, if you need it," Aether says, smiling brightly at Lynette, who gives him a little smile in response.

"I will cherish that offer." She says, "honestly," she adds, looking at Lyney with a half-endearing, half-fond and equal parts exasperated expression, "for someone who insists he's unlovable, loving sure comes easily to him."

"He has a lot to give," Aether says kindly, Lyney is quiet, a broken piece of cermanic-ware, so fractured yet so well patched up he looks new. Aether is glad he has something to hope for.

"Lyney loves like he breathes but treats it like it's cancer," Lynette replies, "when he first realised he was infatuated he said he got a heart stroke. Yet if loving really was a disease, he'd hope he'd never recover from his illness" Lynette takes a sip of tea and rolls her eyes gracefully. "In that sense, he's utterly hopeless,"

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etoilesombre · 26 days

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#i can't reblog this but it came across my dash #and having just watched 4.9/4.10 again last night I NEED to yell about it #so i'm doing this #because YES #Silver does NOT fail to Get why Flint and Madi are pursuing the war because he has not suffered like they have #it's actually the opposite #we see him go through more real brutal direct pain and trauma on screen than either of them #even totally discounting the implied Unending Horrors (tm) of his past #maybe less grief but absolutely more trauma #for him the suffering this war will lead to is not theoretical #and the good it could possibly bring about very much is #and he is SCARED and trying to protect the people he loves #not to say anything about whether his choices are justified or not #but it is very clear WHY he is making them #and it's interesting how suffering in this show pushes characters in different directions #black sails #john silver

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mernaroll · 2 months

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Nico and Lewis when 19 year old Max Verstappen tried to make a conversation in 2016 Japan GP cool down room (They were in a brink of divorce)

that day he promised to himself that he will be a good podcast host in the future 😔😭

He was like NEVER, NEVER will that happen again

I felt awkard years later PLEASE

THE MAXSPLAINING IS A TRAUMA RESPONSE

Dude If I was max l'd carry a camera around with me and upload it years later with the caption "brocedes: The divorce"

THE FALLLLLLLL

childhood friends to lovers to enemies 😔

Silver War ™

*shudders*

#brocedes trauma #ITS REAL #im a child of divorce #pleasee my parents #The whole grid was suffering #because of two hoes #who love a piece of metal more than their 14 year bond #seb max and daniel were WITNESSES #divorced husbands #silver war #TM #formula 1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #sebastian vettel #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #mernaroll

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potionio · 6 months

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Inside, the fireplace is brightly lit, and the Yule log crackles with orange and crimson sparks.

#ts4 screenies #ts4 simblr #ts4 mm #ts4mm #ts4simblr #ts4 interior #ts4 christmas build #im not a big fan of christmas due to trauma tm but #wanted to make something at least a little bit festive

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unbidden-yidden · 4 months

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Okay so today I woke up from a series of extremely elaborate story dreams about half-human half-snake people that I was 1000% convinced was from a real book that I could really read due to seeing part of it written out on pages that looked like they'd been photocopied and scanned for a class or something.

And then I realized I had just dreamed it, so I wasn't going to get to see the end of the quest and now I'm very miffed about this.

Why did G-d airdrop a DnD campaign into my sleeping mind as if this is something I'm even capable of finishing??

#oh well #it made for a lovely change from Trauma(tm) dreams #so honestly I'll take it 😎👍#I'm just so confused lol #I know that particular type of magical being has an actual name #and I'm so far out of my genre that I don't even know what it is lmao

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birb--birb · 9 months

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The more I play, the more I think people that who super dislike Astarion have never experienced a trauma before.

Like ofc you're allowed to dislike a character for any reason, but it also makes so much sense why he is how he is when you unlock his positive approval rating covos. He's a snarky stab happy fuckboy yes, but his quest for power isn't unjustified. Astarion is scared, he's terrified he'll be brought back to Cazador and tortured 5 ways to sunday, if not outright killed. The tadpole is what's keeping him safe, and he isn't going to give it up without a fight. So he thinks the only way to ensure his safety and freedom is to go full scorched earth, take as much power by any means possible no matter who it hurts. He's a spurr of the moment decion maker, of course he's not going to think it through. When your ticket to freedom after 200 years of torture is right there, you don't stop to think about the cost of it, to yourself or others.

Astarion doesn't want power so he can rule over the sword coast, he wants power to make sure no one ever can ever hurt him again. You hear something simular in folks who have experienced trauma (plz understand that I'm generalizing here, trauma is processed differently by different people no one brain is the same). Anger, grief, fear, confusion, terror all are things that can go through your mind after a traumatic event occurs. Your brain is trying to find a way to make things hurt less, so if there's a chance for revenge, or the ability to take back power, you bet your ass its gonna sound delicious to your emotionally flooded brain. This is what I think is at the core of Astarions story. That this confident, cunning, flirtatious vampire is mostly an act, it's what he's practiced and what's protected him thus far. He likely learned that showing any sort of vulnerability is a weakness that will be used against him. His grab for power is selfish yes, but not in the way it seems at the surface. But absolutely power will corrupt absolutely, which is why I say his desire is justified, but not exactly supported depending on what type of run you're doing.

Idk man I just immediately looked at this man and went "aweeh.... it's traumatized". That boi ain't got any coping skills whatsoever and I'm a sucker for characters who's confidence is just a ploy to keep you from seeing just how fucked up they actually are. Anyways each character in this damn game is written so freaking well I could write a billion essays about it everyone say thank you Larian

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tangledinink · 1 year

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hey bad news you guys. my therapist told me today that he thinks i should actually be sad on main MORE.

#something abt practicing emotional vulnerability for the real world with real people and blah blah blah #we discussed tm(n)t for a while #he said Be Like Nerves #i think this can be interpreted in many ways #but what he meant was just write shit and post it sometimes #instead of needing to make everything into an elaborate art piece #anyway sorry guys you're all a part of my trauma therapy process now #vent #personal #look im being emotionally vulnerable #^ thats the tag im gonna use lmao coz i think its funny

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silversnowblossom · 1 year

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hm, I think what's interesting is that (for me at least), in some ways, the kavetham dynamic actually hasn't shifted that much. maybe the details, a little, but not the broader strokes. kaveh's character stories have only solidifed it.

I've always thought that alhaitham is the one who's more in tune with his own feelings, who knows he loves kaveh, but he doesn't make a move because he knows kaveh isn't ready for it yet.

like. kaveh either a) doesn't believe alhaitham could love him, because why would he? or b) realizes alhaitham loves him but not how deep that goes, thinks it would be better (for alhaitham) to let it pass or c) realizes alhaitham loves him but doesn't try for a relationship because he thinks alhaitham deserves better, which kinda ties into b.

either way, kaveh's not ready for a relationship. not with the emotional trauma he's carrying around. and I think alhaitham realizes this, and is content to just let them work their way back to friends for now. he can wait, for as long as kaveh needs. he'll wait for him.

#alhaitham #kaveh #kavetham #genshin impact #rambles #thoughts #like alhaitham is actually fairly emotionally perceptive and i'm sure that extends to himself #whereas kaveh is more likely to be the one in denial/oblivious #and now we know that this is probably because of his trauma tm #bc he thinks he doesn't deserve kindness

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mesothulass · 7 months

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something I’ve been thinking about even before the purgatory arc is that we still know v little of what qfit is like outside the qsmp (unless you watch his old streams and videos ofc ofc but i'm limiting this to the ‘text’ of qsmp)

like fit talks a lot about 2b2t but it’s all small lil snippets of what life was like. yeah he’s traumatized as hell. yeah quesadilla island’s a paradise in comparison. yeah he’ll do anything for ramon. but we haven’t gotten a chance to see that in qsmp bcuz the threat in qsmp is not other characters. the threat is the federation, which cant be taken down all in one attack. it takes time, dedication, and a systematic dismantling due to the nature of the organization. and fit’s patient but by his own admission he’s not smart (too many radioactive fish)

the most we have to go off of are his dreams (only a couple, and they only focus on the meeting btwn him and his employer), his griefing abilities (again only a couple examples), his love for the good old days (old games, chunk borders, fishing, etc), and the stories he tells ramon before bed (inherently less intimidating bcuz hes telling his son bedtime stories like the softhearted bastard he is)

so effectively what it looks like is a tough guy who can talk a big game and clings to relics of the past. he’s a lil fucked up sure but he’s also weirdly kind and sweet. its like how your friend will warn you that their dog bites but up until it bites you that’s Your Friend’s Dog and it’s just a lil guy. up until they entered purgatory, fit was just a vaguely scary looking dog who would rather cozy up to you than bite

and now that they’re in purgatory, any doubt of what fit was like in 2b2t is gone

#qsmp #fitmc #not to say i didnt believe him abt the Trauma tm bcuz ofc i did #however ive been wanting to see him flex his skills yknow #i feel like theres more to say here but idk what it is hhhh

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tricks-n-illusions · 5 months

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[Reaction to this post] - [Lady Ombre belongs to @ask-noonescity]

Alts have been added for smaller text.

Silas pulled his hand away in response, he wasn't expecting rebellion towards his threats, especially one he said with such confidence. The sudden physical contact made him cringe, despite his face being hidden his body language made it obvious he felt discomfort at being touched. He didn't like that, not one bit, her lack of fear was unnerving and the sinister grin she gave made his skin crawl. It felt like the power and advantage he had over her was suddenly pulled out from underneath him. He didn't have control over the situation anymore and that terrified him.

As she leered back everything in his body was screaming at him to run, yet just as before when faced with something much scarier than himself he froze like a deer in headlights. He didn't know how to react, he didn't know what to do and he was so confused by the situation he didn't even realize the unexpected stinging pain that was quickly starting to dig into his fur. It was only when he felt his mask finally beginning to slip that his panic and self-preservation finally kicked in.

"Please stop-!" Silas yelped out in fear, his claws were franticly clawing at the vines but he did little damage to them. It was like all his efforts to escape meant nothing to her, he felt so helpless and scared. Of course, he would die this way, a victim to his own stupidity. His breathing quickly spiralled out of control as he felt the vines begin to tighten, he didn't like this. It all felt so sickeningly familiar to him, the pressure around his neck, the way he gasped for air and panicked, it was all much too close to something from his past. This had happened before? Hadn't it? This was something he was acquainted with, something he knew well. She always did this to him, just another punishment on the long list.

And for some reason, everything in his mind couldn't stop him from melting back into those moments. She was here again, wasn't she? Back from the grave to torment him? Despite everything he knew, every logical thought denying her existence in the present he couldn't shake the thought. In one last ditch effort to ease his anxiety, he opened his eyes... But that only gave him a passing glance of a face he knew well.

Lady Ombre was truly gone, her words falling on deaf ears as she lectured the fox. All that replaced her was the terrifying memory of a ghost here to hurt him once more.

Silas franticly kicked and squirmed in the air, his tiny paws were desperately attempting to tear at the magical energy around his neck. Seance merely looked on in annoyance.

"What are you good for if not? You really don't know how to do anything, do you?" Seance scoffed, her magic was slowly tightening around the fox's neck more. Her grip easily constricted his airway. "I asked you to kill... one person." She held a singular claw up as the tiny Giratina spirit drifted around her, "But you couldn't even do that little fox, could you?" "Why do I even ask you to do things, what are you worried they're going to hurt you?" She laughed as Silas struggled. "You should be more scared of me than some stranger, did you not learn what happens when you don't listen? Was the tail not enough? Do you need another reminder?" "What's next, Hm..." The ghost hummed, pacing around the fox in thought. "How about an ear, or maybe." She suddenly grinned as her eyes darted back to him. "An eye? Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you? Every time you'd open your little eyes and realize you can't quite see the whole picture, you'll remember me and think about how much you should have listened... How does that sound, hm? Or I could finally just kill you?" Silas frantically shook his head in reply, the air he was able to breathe in was getting more scarce by the second. "You're right. That'd be too merciful, someone as horrible as you doesn't deserve mercy." With the last bits of air he could get the fox gave a broken plead.

"Ugh, Seriously?" She groaned.

Silas hit the ground with a loud thud, the sudden allowance of air instantly threw him into a coughing fit. Seance however just stared down in irritation, her ears twitching with every sharp cough. "Are you fucking done now?"She asked in irritation, she obviously felt no remorse for her actions. "Stop the dramatic coughing fit, you're not getting any sympathy from me. You want sympathy then why don't you crawl your way back to your human, hm?" "I'm sure she's stupid enough to reward your misbehaviour with pets and kisses. You always did like being a little pampered pet, didn't you? Having a soft bed and food in your bowl~" She mocked. "Disgusting really, you pets are all the same." Silas only continued to cough before he made a weak effort to stand.

He only looked down in shame, despite her scolding, tears quickly began to fill his eyes. But there was no sadness, no emotion to go along with them all he felt was a disconnect from his surroundings as he drifted back into reality. [ . . . ] It seemed Lady had let go of him long ago, but he was too stuck in his head to have noticed. He only sat there in silence as his hand cautiously wandered to the place where the vines were. The presence of pressure still lingered even if the vines were no longer there. He seemed confused, unsure why Lady Ombre didn't simply kill him when she had the chance.

Just as she left the fox made a frantic scramble for his mask. Tears were beginning to well up in his eyes, all he could mutter out was faint repetitive apologies as he shakily took the kitsune mask in hand.

Once he felt it in his hands a faint calmness washed over him... He took a long moment to stare at it in silence. His claw was gently scratching at the smooth surface of the mask, a feeble attempt to help ground himself in the present day. He still seemed extremely shaken up from the interaction with her. His hands were unintentionally trembling, and he couldn't stop his tears from worsening as moments passed. He was so tired of this, he was so tired of showing weakness and letting strangers have power over him. He was getting so tired of people treating him badly, pushing him around, finding new ways to get under his skin and bring him to the pathetic tears he struggled to hide. "Everything is fine..." He muttered before he finally flipped the mask, completely set on using it to conceal any leftover tears.

"Why do I always do such stupid things…"

-> Oh? What's this? Seems Silas will remember this interaction. Lady Ombre has been added to the relationships page. -> Silas has been... slightly injured and will have minor scratches going forward.

#long post #No need to read this Its just cushion for story✨#tni: chrono #tni: silas rune #tni: seance #gif #tw: child abuse #tw: abuse #tw: flashing gif #Ah there it is! The one thing you should never do to Silas: physical contact with a side of aggression 😅#Dude has so much trauma stored in him✨#*coughs*#Someone better get him a: “So you might have [insert 50 different random headcanons]?” brochure before he blames it on being...#Pathetic (tm) again /lh #Im probs asleep rn this is queue buuuutt #ill post a cute lil palate cleanser in a bit here 🎶 Its even got some North and Wisteriaaaa innnn itttt!#Chapter 1: The Introduction #tni: little fox

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patrickjanebrain · 10 months

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Red Hot: The Slow Slow Burn of Jane and Lisbon (Walter Mashburn Edition)

I just finished re-watching Red Hot (3x07), and I have some thoughts about Lisbon and her aborted love affair with Walter Mashburn.

I admit that I didn't like it that [spoiler] Lisbon had a one-night stand with Mashburn. I enjoy the character. Mashburn was entertaining, charming, and likable in a whimsical sort of ruthless way, and Currie Graham had great chemistry with both Simon Baker and Robin Tunney. It would have been interesting if he had made more appearances on the show. But I felt it was out of character for Lisbon to just take him for a quick spin and then never see him again. And obviously he's a horrible romantic bet. The writers make that clear when they introduce him.

And then I realized that's the point.

During the 7 seasons of The Mentalist, in the course of their investigations, Lisbon and Jane meet hundreds of people, and Walter Mashburn is quite unique among them. He and Jane hit it off right away, despite the fact that Jane suspects him of being a possible murderer. Mashburn immediately understands exactly who Jane is ("You're a psychic, aren't you?").

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He succinctly sums up Jane's entire raison d'etre the second time they meet.

Walter Mashburn: Oh, I know you're a charlatan as I said. You lost your wife and kid to a serial killer, your fault you think. And now you're on this hopeless quest for redemption. Battling evil and injustice, right?

Patrick Jane: Close enough.

Walter Mashburn: You play mind games with people. You size up their weaknesses, and then you give them the rope to hang themselves.

Patrick Jane: Oh, you make it sound so cool.

Mashburn happily goes along with all of Jane's schemes because he's essentially bored being the smartest, most danger-seeing, risk-taking person in the room all of the time. He enjoys new experiences.

Mashburn also has a thing for revenge. When we meet him a second time it's because he's in the process of destroying an old enemy, Yuri Bajoran. He's maneuvered a hostile buyout of his business, Yuri's "baby," because Yuri once stole the woman he loved away from Mashburn.

Playful. Ruthless. Brilliant. Charming. Hedonistic. Risk taking.

You get where I'm going here. He's Patrick Jane. Minus the trauma.

Mashburn is what Jane was trying to become before his wife and child were murdered. He was chasing fame and fortune. He was ignoring his wife's desire to live a straight life because he was having too much fun indulging himself.

And then, because of Jane's arrogance and carelessness, Red John deliberately targeted Angela and Charlotte for destruction, and Jane had to do a massive internal restructuring of his priorities.

When we first meet Jane, he's still playful, charming, ruthless, brilliant, and risk taking. But now he has a mission, and that suicide mission for revenge takes precedence over ever other thing. He's no longer self indulgent. He's sublimated his hedonistic urges, including his sexuality, to give himself greater focus. The only thing that matters is hunting down and killing Red John.

Then he meets Teresa Lisbon.

Lisbon is a soulmate. She has survived her own crucible of trauma, and she has a critical understanding of (and empathy for) broken, hurting men. She understands that Jane is off-limits romantically. He's shut down. He may flirt and charm out of habit or need, but the part of him that could give something to a relationship is no longer operational. There is an attraction between them, but it's impossible.

That impossibility is the reason they allow themselves to get so close and eventually care so deeply for each other.

Because Teresa is extremely skittish. She's a bolter. She left Chicago because she felt tied down taking care of her father and brothers. She abandoned her fiance when things got too serious between them. She's afraid of commitment. To her commitment feels like slavery, and she doesn't want that. She's afraid of that.

But that doesn't mean that she's not attracted to Mashburn. She has a type: she likes charming, ruthless bad boys who don't follow the rules. She knows they're bad for her, but she can't help it. That's her thing.

When she meets Walter, he immediately tells her he's attracted to her and available.

He asks her out. He says he'll fly his plane to Sacramento to see her. Jane finds all of this amusing. He agrees with Mashburn's assessment of Lisbon's appeal and compliments him on his style. And later he tells Lisbon that she should have taken him up on his offer, that a little empty glamour would be good for her.

When you realize that Mashburn is a stand-in for Jane, the whole thing is quite funny, really. Lisbon being attracted to Jane. Jane telling Lisbon that he'd be good for her, loosen her up a little.

When they meet again in Red Hot, Lisbon does take Mashburn up on his offer. She enjoys herself, and then like the skittish filly she is, she never sees him again. It's too much. Too tempting, too out of character for the person she wants to be. And Mashburn could overpower her emotionally. She doesn't want that.

The trauma, their mutual trauma, is what Jane and Lisbon share and bond over. It's what keeps them apart, and what eventually, after that slow, slow burn, brings them together. The attraction was always there. It's takes time to build that complete understanding and utter trust, and it never would have happened if Jane had been available to begin with.

@tmsource @robntunney @tresalisbon

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