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batwingsrosa · 18 days

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Snape coming to Godric‘s hollow that hallow‘s eve:

*steps over James Potters body*

What y‘all apparently wanted him to do:

*Oh gosh, oh no, James! Let me just bury you in the backyard real quick, then i shall check on Lily and find out whether or not she is alive.*

Like, be for real. 🙄

Snaters are so strange sometimes, i swear.

To turn this into an argument against him is so bizarre.

(I am aware this is a movie Snape thing and not detailed in the books.)

#severus snape #pro severus snape #always #harry potter #anti james potter #anti marauders #redemption arc #severus #bullying #traumatic experience #traumatic responses #anti snaters #like what the fuck did you want him to do #be for fucking real #this argument against him is so freakin dumb

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tobusysinking · 2 months

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“But he was just a child”

So was I

And I’m suffering and he’s not

#cw cocsa #cocsa victim #cocsa vent #cocsa survivor #tw cocsa #csa vent #tw csa implied #csa survivor #tw csa #actually mentally ill #actually ptsd #ptsd vent #personal vent #traumatic experience #actuallytraumatized #mental health #repressed memories

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killabeeblog · 9 days

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My childhood trauma didn't make me stronger. it made me a people pleaser. it made me forgive way too much. it made me not speak when i'm supposed to. it made me an extreme empath.

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nothing0fnothing · 3 months

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One time my mother, in a rage over open windows, came to my closed bedroom door and hit it so hard the coat hook attached to my side of it came down. The door did not open, as the handle needed to be turned to do that. When she engaged the handle the wooden coat hook, with my coats on top of it, caught under the door and jammed it in place.

I had been sitting happily on my bed, quietly playing Nintendogs on my DS when this happened, with no idea I'd done something wrong. When I head the door bang and watched the coat hanger clatter to the ground I lept up in fright and, on instinct, drew away from the door I anticipated would fly open at any second.

The door had no lock installed on it, and never had. We were not a locks on doors household, the only one being the tiny silver slide lock on the downstairs half bath. Nevertheless, she accused me of locking the door, and demanded I unlock it immediately.

I approached the shaking door gingerly, very afraid to be near it when the coat became dislodged. She was screaming and banging so hard and with such tenacity that I'd barely managed to jump out of its path just in time as it swung open fast and hard, missing my face by a hair and slamming hard against the wall.

Now inside my room, she approached, looming over me, screaming barely coherent words, scaring the absolute soul out of me. She had me backed into the corner on the other side of the room, drawn into myself completely, as if I could shrink into my own shadow and disappear.

Suddenly she stopped, turned around and went out the way she'd came.

"Clean up this shit." She snapped, gesturing the the mess of broken wood and coats that was now crumpled in a heap at the wall.

Then she was gone, slamming my door behind her, leaving me scared and shaking, my arms still reflexively up in a defense position my eyes still streaming. I stood there a moment composing myself, eyes glued on the door processing what had just happened.

Luckily I'd stood there in shock before jumping to her command to clean up the broken coat hooks, because if I hadn't the door would have hit me hard as she slammed it against the wall a second time.

I turned white as a sheet as I realised I was stood exactly as I was when she told me to clean the coats up less than twenty second prior.

"What are you doing in here?"

"Nothing" I answered honestly, my first word since this entire interaction began.

She screamed a long screech and stormed away. She left the door open with the coat mess behind it, and cowering like a frightened cat as she went to find something or someone else to inflict her mood onto.

I waited a beat to see if she was coming back, but once I'd tracked her footsteps to the back door, the complete other side to the house that I was on, I breathed for what felt like the first time in a whole minute. The room felt cold and the quiet, the repetitive music drifting out of my DS felt out of place. I carefully moved the door so I could get to what was behind it, ensuring I'd left it ajar so I could easily hear what was going on downstairs and have some warning if she came back.

Crouched uncomfortably, I began collecting and sorting the mess. Broken wood in one pile, coats in another, while I considered what to do with them now I had no hooks to hang them from. Mum might fly off again if I let them take up a lot of space if hung inside my wardrobe, but she also might if I let them take up 4 whole hooks supposed to be shared by the family on the coat hooks in the foyer. I could stack them in twos, only taking up two hooks, but I didn't want to face the wrath if one slipped or fell either. I was considering the possibility of hanging them on coat hangers on the outside of my wardrobe, draping them over the doors until I heard movement again.

I froze completely still while I tracked the movement from the back garden door, through the kitchen and into the dining room, going cold when I realised it was coming in my direction. It stopped at the stairs and my mums voice, shrill and too loud came from up them.

"Why is your door closed?"

I grabbed and pulled it open fast, praying she wouldn't come up and see how I'd let it scatter the wood pieces.

"Did I tell you to open it or did I ask you why it was closed?"

"I'm cleaning the wood up" I squeaked, scrambling to collect them all into the bin.

"Wood? What wood?" She asked. I trembled in horror hearing her begin up the stairs again. "What wood?" She repeated, angrier, I couldn't even string an explanation together, frightened that a retelling of the truth might come across too critical and earn me a beating.

It didn't matter anyway, because she was now in my bedroom doorway for the third time since this began, staring down at me as I got the last of the broken bits into the bin. My heart was thumping so painfully hard in my chest a panicked thought loudly told me that I'd surely have a heart attack and die at any moment.

"You've been up here for half an hour doing that?" She asked. I wasn't sure I was, but I nodded anyway.

She sighed angrily and took the coats from my lap. "Just play your game." She said, leaving the door ajar as she left.

Once my heart went back to normal and my cold skin warmed up, I allowed myself to sit gingerly on my bed again. I continued tracking her movements with my ears the rest of the day. They were less stompy and I even heard her laughing and joking on the phone.

I picked up a book and read for a while, then I let myself get back to my game, playing on mute, but still I let my ears follow her around the house, my stomach turning every time she approached the stairs. She left me alone till bed time, when she came to check I'd brushed my teeth and popped a hot chocolate on my night stand. I hugged her and let her kiss me and had nightmares all night.

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liennka · 7 months

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Fromage - part II

Hannibal Lecter x Will's daughter/teen patient reader

Summary : When Y/n for once arrives early for her therapy, she ends up in a life-or-death situation... And she has to fight too (s1 e08)

-> Feel free to insert yourself instead :) This is my first story and I am open to any criticism (be nice pls).

I just wanted to say that I am not the owner of this show, but I did make this story, so don't copy it without my knowledge, thank you.

"And where do you think you are going?" he took a couple of steps to her side of the room.

Hannibal couldn't stop him, feeling dizzy himself. Y/n opened the door, almost out of danger, but he had long legs and great range.

One second he was stretching out his hand, the next she was on the floor. His cord cutting across her cheek and neck. Y/n felt a searing pain, as if ten people slapped her at once, throwing her to the ground.

Tobias swung the wire again, aiming for her head. She dodged at the last second by ducking under the table, her blood stuck to her hair. Her sob was low, but Hannibal heard it. In a matter of heartbeats, he picked up a small sculpture and threw it at him. It hit Tobias's back and he crashed into the wooden door.

Hannibal had time to compose himself as he walked up to him and punched him in the face. Tobias got his jaw dislocated, but he still managed to boot Hannibal, swinging his string once more. It wrapped around Hannibal's hand, making a terrible sound similar to breaking bones.

----☆----☆----☆----

She wiped the blood from her cheek with her sleeve, feeling the deep gash every time she moved her facial muscles. Meanwhile, Tobias threw a tea table at Hannibal, destroying his favourite glass furniture. Enraged, Hannibal threw him over his other table in return. Y/n covered herself with her hands and curled up.

Tobias got hold of Hannibal's decorative knife and tried to stab him. Y/n crawled out the other side, picking up a shard of glass. And as he was about to stab Hannibal, she crept from his side and stabbed him in the shoulder.

Tobias screamed, letting go of Hannibal and grabbing the back of her head, slamming her into a wooden cabinet. Her vision went black and she passed out. Tobias stomped on her, but was stabbed by a pencil.

Focusing on Hannibal again, they made their way back to the ladder.

"You two are really annoying. When I kill you, I may use her guts, she seems to be a tough one," he grinned.

Hannibal saw red, such rudeness was too much. He let Tobias punch him through the ladder and grabbed his arm, breaking it. Tobias could only scream and wave a knife, but a clean blow to the neck sent him to the ground. Hannibal pulled out a handkerchief so as not to leave any prints on the stag statue and proceeded to beat the shit out of him.

----☆----☆----☆----

Y/n regained her consciousness as she felt Hannibal's hand cupping her face.

"You were so reckless Mažasis, but you saved my life," He gently stroked her hair.

"You killed him," she breathed out in relief, "was that mercy?"

“Tobias?”

“Franklin.”

“And what if it was not?” Hannibal cocked his head, clearly testing her.

----☆----☆----☆----

"If he was killed simply for living, may his death be kinder than man," she whispered, glancing to where his body was lying lazily.

As she slowly pulled herself together, Hannibal called the FBI.

"They're going to ask questions."

"So we answer them, from the bottom of our hearts," Y/n knew what he meant, she would have to lie.

"Is my dad gone? "Y/n remembered what Tobias had said.

"I suppose so, but I hope not."

She began to cry, not caring that her blood mixed with her tears and made her face look like a painting of a wild berry cake. Hannibal's warm embrace lulled her to sleep, and when she awoke, her father was standing over her. Hannibal was patched up, only his bloody face remained.

"We were worried you were dead," Hannibal said lovingly to Will, still holding her in his arms.

"Dad!" was the first word of Y/n.

Will took her from Hannibal and kissed her bruised forehead.

“If I had got here sooner I would have killed him myself, I am glad you are all right, though you are still injured. I am so sorry Y/n/n," Will whispered, his brows furrowed with worry.

"She saved me, you have a fierce child, Will. I admire her, although she shouldn't have been here in the first place," Hannibal smiled, then raised his eyebrow.

“Yeah, that was mainly my fault, I couldn't take her here today,” Will scratched his neck, obviously feeling guilty.

----☆----☆----☆----

After that, Jack had interrogated both of them, but for the most part she had not even had to lie as she had been face first into the ground. Her face was bandaged, the blood was washed off and ice was put on her forehead.

Y/n made a mental note to never come early to her sessions again, and to always carry a knife.

#child reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter #will graham #teen reader #original character #hurt/comfort #traumatic experience #y/n #hannibal

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vino---delectable · 1 month

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#sorry not sorry #it still bothers me #i was so excited #for them to get together... Mad it was like this #bones (2005)#bonestv #bones tv #vincent nigel murray #ryan cartwright #temperance brennan #emily deschanel #seeley booth #david boreanaz #me #traumatic experience #*sigh*

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holierthanth0u · 2 months

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i dont know who needs to hear this but your parents do not own your features. you can have the same nose as your mom, but it does not belong to her. you can have the same smile as your dad, but it does not belong to him. they dont have to be any part of you.

#traumatic childhood #parent issues #parents issues #trauma #traumatic experience #childhood trauma #complex ptsd #mental illness

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unwelcome-ozian · 8 months

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#traumas #invalidated traumas #minimizing traumas #traumatic experience #traumatic events

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bugsoda · 6 months

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just found this picture from last year and??? can we appreciate how fucking gay this hair is i mean

peak hair for me.

#i miss it so much but it didnt fucking come out. even when i dyed over it the brown was tinted green #traumatic experience #i love my hair now though #bugsoda reveal kinda sorta not reallg #this was in my she/they bisexual era.

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battling-my-demons · 7 months

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Who else is shocked that others are shocked when you talk about the trauma that you've been through. Like, it's not normal? Then you start to realize that it's not actually normal. Then you're even more shocked 😨😳😭.

#trauma #im still traumatized #actually traumatized #traumatic experience #post traumatic stress disorder #trauma response #mental illness #mentally unstable #lost #fake smile #numb #it's not normal #shocked #shock #trauma things

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 6 months

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Omg, your response was so amazing and helpful 😭❤ Thank you for taking the time to really get into all that. 💞 It also seems to have kinda sparked a conversation arround it, which is awesome! 😁

And ohhhhh ya, the religious trauma and gilt are real 😳🙄

You mentioned you have more to say if we want to hear it? I, for one, would LOVE to hear anything else you have to say on the topic! ❤

-🫖

Hi hi hi 🫖 anon!!

{Let’s Talk Religious Guilt and Trauma}

I am so glad that my response—Let’s Talk Healthy Solo Sex— was helpful and informative for you!! Of course!!! I want to give every ask and every anon the time and respect that they deserve ♥️♥️ And yes, I love that it sparked more of a conversation!! I’m so proud of you for reaching out and starting these discussions, anon!!! 🥰

I most definitely have more to say on the topic. For one, you can check out Let’s Talk Penetrative Sex and Let’s Talk Trauma in Relationships, which both stemmed from our conversation! And then there’s this response, fyi it will be another longer one 😊

*sigh* Yes, religious guilt and trauma are most definitely real. And those of experiences and feelings are so valid. Trauma of any kind is no joke. If you have any religious trauma or trauma of any other kind, I highly recommend that you seek a professional’s help.

So… What is Religious Trauma and Guilt?

A general definition for Religious Trauma is… “Religious trauma can happen when an individual’s religious experience has been damaging, abusive, degrading, stressful, or traumatic. When a religious experience is traumatic, it can damage your emotional, mental, physical, and spiritual health”. Check out Cohesive Therapy NYC’s article on Religious Trauma for more detailed information! For an article that goes more into Religious Guilt, check out Considering Counseling’s article on Religious Trauma and Guilt…! ♥️

Religious trauma and guilt are especially tricky beasts… Many twisted religious teachings and persuasion is very cult like. (That’s not to say that all are, there are definitely less twisted, healthier religions and practices) But the ones that are rotten and manipulative, they dig deep into your core beliefs, especially if you’re a child, and they replace your identity with the identity of the religion/church/cult.

So, how do you deal with religious trauma and guilt?

Firstly, as I said above, seek professional help (I recommend an EMDR specialist for trauma—EMDR is a type of therapy that works to restructure traumatic memories in your brain)

On your own accord, Processing, Accepting, and then Healing is the overall goal. Talking it out and processing your experience and feelings with a trusted person can be helpful for some. I find that talking to someone who has also had religious trauma or guilt to be even more helpful, because of how they can relate. Sometimes journaling/writing about it can be another helpful tool. The key is to find some way to express those emotions, to get them out of you.

Personally, my own story is that I have both religious trauma and guilt, but I definitely struggle more with my religious trauma. I was raised in a Catholic school and an Interfaith-Christian household. We moved around a lot, and so I went to many Christian churches like Non-Denominational, Baptist, Presbyterian, Catholic, and Southern Christian/Baptist. After the Catholic primary school, I moved to a Christian Charter school for six years. At that age, all my activities were based around my church and religious school; safe to say, religion was a very big part of my childhood. When Covid hit, I had had enough and I used the social distancing and the lockdown as a way to disconnect from the church. I effectively stopped going to church in 2020. I then took that time to explore my religious trauma and guilt, and this was where my healing journey began.

Everyone’s journey is different, and everyone’s journey is valid. ♥️

I began my work with my CBT therapist (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy— most therapy is CBT or Freudian). I found that most of my religious guilt was tied to my sexuality, and that I really struggled with being gay and being religious. So I explored that. I talked about it with lots of people, including my therapist, trusted family members, and other trusted religious people. I found that finding others who struggled with sexuality and religion was extremely helpful, it made me feel validated and not alone in the struggle. Today, I am way further along with my religious guilt than I was 3 years ago, but I definitely still have more to process, accept, and heal from.

Next there was my religious trauma. For this, I started with my CBT therapy as well. It was helpful, but after 3 years, I have run into a wall… It depends on the intensity of your trauma, because “little t” trauma is more easily resolved through CBT, whereas “capital T” trauma requires the neural network in your brain. My trauma is more “capital T”, and so I found that CBT therapy only helped me so much. This is why I recommend EMDR therapy for trauma. EMDR therapy targets restricting your neural network, working out the traumatic memories.

Everyone’s experience is different, so what worked for me and what didn’t work might be different for you, and that’s okay. This is only my experience. But I hope that it was a little helpful, and that you at least feel less alone in your feelings. Because they are so valid. ♥️♥️

So yea, those are my key points for religious trauma and guilt…! Hope this was somewhat relatable, helpful, and informative 🥰 Don’t hesitate to reach out and chat with me, ask or dm! Hope you have a lovely day/night!! 💞💞

Talk with Me ❤️‍🔥

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itsthatgirlcourt-blog · 2 years

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#the simple life #Paris #only respect for MY president #traumatic experience

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diveintomydream · 7 months

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I regret it so much that i didnt killed myself a long time ago.

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flowerflowerflo · 2 months

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got cornered by 2 teenage boys on the way home telling me they liked my my melody bag and asking me for a vape???😭

#girlblogging #absolutely terrifying tbh #traumatic experience #my melody #female insanity #girlhood #gaslight gatekeep girlblog #hyperfemininity #female hysteria #im just a girl

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tobusysinking · 2 months

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I Will Never Be Dirt Free

#sa survivor #traumatic experience #lyrics #sa awareness #csa vent #csa survivor #cocsa survivor #actually traumatized

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nothing0fnothing · 5 months

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Did any of you have narcissistic abusers who ruined things?

My page is about narcissistic abuse from the perspective that my parents were the narcissistic abusers, and they loved a opportunity to ruin something I cared about.

Christmas, birthdays, holidays, school events or drama productions I was in. They'd pick a fight and assault me physically either hours before or hours after. Day ruined. On Christmas one year my dad threw me down the stairs of our holiday home over a croissant. And then I had to pull myself together and fix my face so I could deal with all the merriment when our extended family showed up for dinner. Everyone else's day was fine, but mine and my sisters, ruined.

Treasured items like notebooks, photo frames, nick knacks, toys or mementos, especially if they were bought out of my pocket money or gifted to me by a family member, if they were in a bad mood it was things like that that'd get broken, thrown or damaged. I remember days after my birthday my presents from my party getting smashed in a rage in front of me.

Friendships, mentorships or just any genuine or good relationships I had. If I was close with a teacher or a mentor they'd pull me out of classes, if I became close with my friends parents or other adult family members my mom would go into a jealous rage and become violent to really discourage further interactions with them. She would manufacture drama in my friend groups too. I remember being 10 years old when she was called out by a parent of a friend of mine bc the level of interaction she was having with my friend group and causing upset to 4 literal children was weird and inappropriate.

Compliments, awards evenings, after parties, theatre productions and basically anything that was celebrating or supporting me. She always felt times like this were the opportune moments to bring up some unrelated way that I'd failed. You got an academic award for writing? But they haven't seen how bad you are at maths. You produced and directed that entire school play? This is a great time to bring up how untidy your bedroom is. An auntie says my dress is pretty? Loudly scold her in front of me for ignoring my obvious weight problem. Moment ruined.

From a young age I learned to not seem too excited about anything. If I enjoyed something or was proud of something. It was second nature to get all those positive feelings out somewhere else before taking the news to my parents. If I had a good time at a friends house or really liked a present I knew to keep it to myself because it would be so easy for them to ruin it for me in the future.

#narcissistic abuse #raised by narcissists #toxic parents #vent post #toxic mom #complex trauma #parental abuse #dysfunctional family #childhood trauma #dysfunctional household #traumatic experience #trauma recovery #traumatic memories #actually abused

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