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mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune · 2 years

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Religious Trauma Can Happen In Different Ways.

not everyone has to read this, and only do so if you want to.

sometimes Religious Trauma can happen in our past lives, like when we become a victim of either a Toxic-Satanist or other type of Toxic-Religious person that could be family or other people....

plus we wouldn’t of asked to be reborn into a Toxic-Religious family, who cross that disgusting line and use us as a human sacrifice.

I still think it’s possible that my pendulum could be right about my past life’s dad being named George and he was part of some ritual that happen in a attic.

and even if it was surprising to find some info about a George and Attic right away, it doesn’t mean that George that ended up choking one of the guys that was helping that one lady, is the same one that I asked about by using my pendulum.

also it’s best not to remember full memories of past lives, even ones that are connected to Religious Trauma.

but you can still from new Religious Traumas in your new reincarnation.

like when some Toxic-Religious person kept throwing the misused words “may god have mercy on you.” or “may the lord have mercy one you.” (I know it was one of the two...)

but no matter how much I said it was hurting my feelings, they kept throwing that misused word at me, and I had no other choice but to block them at the place where it all happen, and I can only hope I don’t run into them here.

my believing there is Goddess, is my and those who believe in her, own business.

I can believe in The Heavenly Father and Earthly Mother, and I still rather go live with the Earthly Mother because of certain reasons, but there can be like visitation type thing going.

I know that not everyone who is religious is bad or really toxic-religious, but there will always be bad and toxic-religious people mixed in.

it might be a good thing I didn’t know about my blood type when having that problem with that Toxic-Religious person.

it’s possible that if I told them that my blood type is “O RH D Negative”

they will act in a scary and toxic way....

still procrastinating in checking to see if my blood type will come out O RH D Negative for a third time.

I will get around to it when I can, it’s just ends up being delayed.

one the religious traumas, can be when the really aggressive types try to force convert you, and they do it in a very wrong way.

like saying if you don’t, you will go to hell.

and if you join a certain religion where they wont let you leave, the only way you can leave is if you are caught doing something your not suppose to.

another way is that you can end up being mistaken selling food that they grow, but you weren’t going to do that, but you still get in trouble for something you didn’t do.....that happen to someone in my family who was part of a certain religion group.....it wasn’t right for them to accuse them like that, stuck up jerks....

another way to leave a group like that, is that you can fake being crazy and they will willingly let you go, and wont have to say that if you try to leave you will go to hell.......seriously, what is wrong with them...?!!

plus just because someone believes differently or has a different view, but doesn’t force those religious or spiritual or atheist views, don’t mean you should block them.

there can be better reasons to block someone than to do that,

like if they end up doing that that Toxic-Religious person did to me, and possibly others....

soul trauma can be thing, where you might end up dying too young a few times in your past lives, and something can end up triggering a memory that happen when you had died, and still being a child during the time and even in your new life, you might believe that if you wear a dress you will die again.

like at first you were okay wearing the dress but when you become like either 2 or 3 years old, past life memories come to the surface and you become upset and think that if you wear those clothes, you will die like you did in one of your past lives.

everyone can have different forms of Religious Trauma. either in their present life or from past life, but it can be both.

like you can have past life trauma from it as well as current trauma.

some “past life” memories might not belong to you, but from your soul-parent and even them being a fragment from their soul-parent, your soul-grandparent.

but it’s okay that not everyone believes that....about the whole soul-parents and soul-grandparents thing.

but the soul trauma could still be imprint into the fragment that comes from the soul-parent.

and if some info is true, that some cults do try to force soul fragmenting, then that can possibly be bad for the soul.

a person can suffer from both Religious Trauma caused by Toxic-Religious people and even Soul Trauma.

it takes time to fully heal from that kind of thing I think.

it’s possible that even if someone isn’t religious at all, they could end up with religious trauma caused by those who do the wrong type of converting.

I mean I have a different belief from my family, that I have to stay in the closet about, there are different closets....

I believe that we are mixed between Primate and Clay Humans,

Adam and Lilith’s bodies were made up of some form of Clay, made by a type of a Omni-Magic that is linked to the Celestial Ethereal Realm but not everyone has to believe that...

I also believe it is possible that those who were first Primate-Humans (who would later marry the sons of Adam and Eve....)

were genetically engineered by possibly other lifeforms that came to Earth a very long time ago, during the time when Adam, Lilith and Eve were starting out.

so yeah I believe in the Science part too, I believe both halves could be right, it’s just they are two parts of a puzzle.

but even if I can share my thoughts and theories about it, doesn’t mean that I am gonna convert anyone into it...

I know that my pendulum does give me “Yes” when I ask about my having type of Ethereal wings that go into flame mode if I get too upset or mad.

and even hugs around me if I get upset or nervous or any other form of feelings.

well according to what I had asked about it, it seems to be a habit for my wings to hug around me whenever I feel a type of feeling.

I know that I’m sensitive when it comes to when a room becomes too hot or too cold, plus the same thing could be if I’m outside and it could end up being really hot....I don’t like that....I rather stay in a nice temperature where it’s not too hot or too cold.

I already know I am a little fragile, which with how many times I had to go to the hospital because of a seizure (which by the way might of stop if we moved to the town we live at now, less dangerous energies....not all seizures would need the medicine that recommend by some doctors...)

I think so long as I don’t go back to the places where most of the seizures happen, like former towns that I lived at before, I think I am all good.

plus I don’t think that machine that scan me before when I was really little, was giving a truthful answer, because of the whole thing that has to do with RH Negative blood types messing with certain devices, so it could of ended up coming out as False Positive or whatever...

anyway back to the whole religious trauma, there can be different ways for someone to end up with different types of trauma caused by either their family or some other people.

and even if you find that special and safe space, where you can have a positive religious or spiritual view or both, you will have to try to protect it from your family and those who might not fully understand.

sometimes religious trauma can come from abuse, possibly both verbal and physical form....

it could take time for such a trauma to fully heal, but even if you do heal you might not be able to fully heal the wound that it left behind, like it could end up opening sometimes.

the ones who cause this trauma, can be the Toxic-Religious types, but so long as there are some who are religious or not to help try to heal the wound, even if the wound tends to open at times before being fully healed, it should be a little okay I guess....

I’m not sure if I am explaining this correctly, but I hope some can understand and not misunderstand, I know that when at times when a person doesn’t explain well enough it can be turned into a misunderstanding, don’t know how many times that has happen to different people.

some religious trauma can be small, while others have it way worse.

I mean if a Toxic-Religious person tells me “you must convert and perhaps you will be given mercy.”

should I say “yeah, well someone like you thew the same words at me, and it caused me to cry and each time I tried to tell them that it was hurting me emotionally hurt me, and I had to block them, so what I believe in a Earthly Mother Goddess, you should just accept it.”

but would it really get through...?

even if there are some who would listen and respect the different point of view, there will be some who will not give up and will keep doing it, not knowing the emotional damage that can happen when it is taken too far.

if that jerk who hurt my feelings, just because I believe in a Goddess, and because of my still figuring out what type of Nonbinary I am (I believe it was about those two....and not just because of the whole Goddess believing thing.)

had stop throwing the misused words at me, maybe things would of been okay.

but they didn’t, no matter how I pointed out what they were doing to me was hurting me and making me cry.

this can happen when some take it too far, and need to understand when someone tells you it is hurting their feelings, you have to try to listen.

that can count as religious trauma, where when you share a different view, that kind of thing will happen and if you try to point out how much it is hurting you after someone misuses a “may the lord have mercy” at you, it can hurt and if you try to point that out, they will keep doing it where it does even more harm than good.

you should NEVER misuse those words, and that jerk did just that.

the best thing to do is try to hope not to run into them on here....

it might be possible to find a safe space to help heal, and you could also have a animal companion to help with the healing.

I have adorable fluffy baby that is my second cat.

also it is possible to have different levels of religious trauma, and some will have it way worse than others with it.

I hope my talking about this, isn’t misunderstood and is understood fully.

I don’t want any misunderstandings when talking about this stuff.

I’m going to have the next post talk about Slenderman and some crazy theory, that might lighten the mood.

#religious trauma #converting #soul trauma #reincarnation #soul fragmenting #toxic religious people

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lolottes · 6 months

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Bruce Wayne is the reincarnation of Jack Fenton 1

The trauma of losing his family so early in his new personal development has vaguely awakened some of his memories where he also lost his family in his previous life. He has to be better this time, not repeat his mistakes, not be so careless this time HE HAS TO!

When he sees Dick and picks him up, he feels like he's missing someone.

When Barbara joins their duo, things get worse.

When he takes Jason in, it calms down slightly… only to go to hell when he dies.

When Tim arrives he has to do it by force because he feels like he's failed once again and doesn't deserve the trust of a new boy…

After returning from the time stream, he meets Damian ... the green eyes… he feels like… he's seen him before? But all his behavior is wrong and the impression disappears… partially, he MUST help this his boy to be better!

It begins to have different nightmares ... nightmares White and Green Lazare

As Jason comes back from the dead, he feels like he's walking on eggshells, after all he's already failed once at accepting dead… he's not sure why

Things seem to be improving, he also welcomes Cass who seems right, then Duke who seems different but close to something he already knew good

Then comes an invocation of worship that he was unable to prevent, the circle breathes an icy breath into the room and the ice crystals regroup to take on a lazarus green hue… but strangely… he did not not afraid, he is nervous, he feels guilty, but he is not afraid… the ice takes on black and white hues and becomes a humanoid silhouette

Green eyes open

Danny: DAD?!????

Suffice to say that the still young king was not ready to see his father again, his dead father… just after a big argument with his mother after a revelation which made her flee, then the news of his death had him banished himself and all the ghosts of his home world from their land to the zone because the GiW had got their hands on their patent and they had to cut this reality from the multiverse to avoid the destruction of the latter. It was hard and…

For Danny it didn't last a week

tomorrow I will publish a version with fewer details

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the-abyss-of-fandoms · 1 year

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Me when the villagers start throwing their axes at me and I’m at low health: Please stop I’m just a woman. Playing this nightmare of a game

#I swear in the valley they just kept spawning #I was like I am at 13 bullets and no shotgun #imma bounce ran from those bullet sponges #faster then a cooperate billionaire does from not paying taxes #resident evil #resident evil 4 #video games #woman playing video games #dark souls trauma #resident evil remake #resident evil 4 remake #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy imagine

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tatretot · 2 years

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a duo full of joyous whimsy! :) i sure hope they arent inflicted with soul-crushing trauma at any point! :)

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auspicioustidings · 1 month

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Ae Fond Kiss - Part 1

Winsome Wee Thing

Summary: This is the start of a story from this concept. You fall in love and you learn loss more ways than one. Words: 3.9k TWs: major character death (temporary), miscarriage

Parts: 1 2 3

You and your boyfriend's Lieutenant disliked one another immensely and immediately.

For you it wasn’t so much that the hulking idiot was in a balaclava, although you found the skull pattern so teenage boy edgy that it caused a cringe deep enough to feel right through your molars, it was the obvious dismissal he had for you. For Simon it wasn’t so much that Johnny’s newest pretty little bit was a smart arse, although he could practically feel the ‘not like other girls’ radiating off of you in waves, it was the obvious disdain you had for him. The first impression set the tone for what became a horrid relationship.

–

“This is my Lieutenant, they call him Ghost but I believe he prefers to be called-”

“That’ll do.”

There was something about the way he cut the puppy dog that was your boyfriend off that riled you a little.

“Nice to meet you, Ghost. Is that your gamer tag or something?”

“Never been one for games. You a gamer girl?”

“Not enough to have such a cool nickname.”

“Oh I’m sure we could come up with a nickname that would suit you princess.”

Gaz, who you did like, spent the rest of the night meditating while Johnny remained clueless to the simmering hostility between the two of you. Price didn’t really seem to know what to make of it all, but you found you had a natural respect for the Captain and as time went on, he was the one that could always tell you and Ghost to knock it off if he could see a fight brewing.

–

Johnny had been so excited to introduce you to his team and his team to you and the only thing you and bonehead could seem to agree on was that you would pretend to be civil when Johnny was around. So the jokes were underhanded but could be brushed off as humour, the vitriol was kept for when his back was turned, the eventual birthday presents were tactfully meant to appear innocent but actually be biting insults and the all out war that was had around a pool table was played off as healthy competition.

If it has been anyone but John MacTavish you’d have dumped him purely so you would never have to see Simon Riley again, but fuck you fell hard and fast for Johnny. You didn’t even fully remember your first meeting. It had been a blind date and you thought you had been stood up so got well past merrily drunk at the bar of a nice restaurant. You had not been stood up, your date had broken down in the snow and in the hours you had been drinking the flurries had become a full blizzard. But that wasn’t going to stop Johnny. In the middle of a backroad with a blizzard beating down and no signal to call he had hiked his ass all the way to you, getting there just in time to catch you wobbling out the door.

He had been a gentleman, hadn’t taken advantage. You woke up the next day with a handsome man bringing you breakfast in bed and apologising profusely for the whole thing. He had slept on your couch and admitted sheepishly that he had walked you home. From what little you did remember, you had made it difficult by starting a snowball fight and wanting to make snow angels every 5 minutes. You remembered the scent of pine and a roaring fire that enveloped you when he had bundled you in his jacket, breathing in and being transported to a log cabin in the Scottish highlands in winter, safe and drinking something warm with a hint of whiskey.

If you hadn’t already been falling for him after his bashful teasing that morning, you were flung head first into it when you spent the next week looking after him when his gallantry earned him the worst cold known to man. He was a big baby when he was sick and that combined with the terrible sense of humour that he had made you desperate to learn more about him.

–

“Ye cannae be mean tae me, I’m naw long for this world!”

For such a large man, he really was like a little kid bundled up in blankets and whining.

“Uh huh, that’s very valid and very sad but you still need to take your medicine.”

“I was never any good at swallowing, maybe ye can give it tae me as a suppository.”

Ridiculous man.

“Aww come on, swallow like a good boy and maybe we can talk about that suppository when you’re better.”

“Fuck, where have ye been all my life?”

His loopy grin nearly made you plant a kiss on his lips regardless of how ill he was, but instead you just ruffled his hair when he knocked back the pills and wondered how you were ever going to keep from loving this man.

–

The second date he had left you with a fond kiss at the doorstep after a wild night of earning enough tickets at the arcade to win him a little plush skull toy. He had been obsessed with it when he had first seen it, had told you he needed to win it for his Lieutenant. You thought that was adorable and had put your frankly suspiciously good reflexes to work absolutely rinsing the whack a mole for every ticket you could get from it. Of course had you known then that Simon Riley was the biggest ass on the planet you’d have hoarded your tickets and gotten 300 packets of Haribo instead (or so you’d like to think, but you knew deep down you could never have denied Johnny knowing how bright he smiled when he had traded the tickets for that stupid plush).

By the third date you wanted him so badly that you felt like a bitch in heat. You started to think that maybe you were making a fool of yourself with how calm he seemed whenever you sneaked a touch or whispered a filthy promise. God you liked him so much, it was killing you that maybe he didn’t feel the same. You needn’t have worried as it turned out, date number 3 was when John MacTavish had completely ruined you in a way you had not expected.

–

“This was really nice” you said, a bit embarrassed if you were honest and avoiding his eyes after he walked you to your front door.

You had been a menace the whole evening. You had never been some sex kitten but fuck he just brought it out in you without even trying. He probably thought you were ridiculous now with how you had tried to be all sultry the whole way through dinner. Fuck, your hands had wandered something awful during the movie as well and you felt the humiliation from it burn from your ears to your toes. He didn’t want you the way you wanted him and you had pathetically thrown yourself at him. He probably couldn’t wait to lose your number.

“Open the door.”

Shit. He sounded almost angry. The first guy you had really liked in a long time, maybe ever, and you had totally blown it by being over eager. You shakily unlocked your door and blew out a breath, prepared to go inside and cry over a glass of wine. Instead you were grabbed by the waist and slammed against the door to close it behind you so fast it made your head spin.

John MacTavish’s tongue was down your throat and he had your wrists pinned above your head in a bruising vice grip. You had only just found the sense to kiss back when his lips were gone and instead his teeth were sinking into the delicate skin of your throat. The whine you made at that was all animal, as was his answering growl.

“Next time ye misbehave like that I’m going tae bend ye over the dinner table and fuck ye hard and proper in front of all those nice, fancy people.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You had never gotten so wet so fast in your life. The nice lace panties you had on under this dress were soaked right through. He bit off a curse and your legs nearly gave out when he suddenly let you go and backed right off, dragging a hand roughly through his hair.

“Fuck, sorry. Dinnae hate me, I wanted tae… our first time I mean, I had it all planned oot. Which makes me sound like a creepy, presumptuous bawbag. And now I’m being a fucking reprobate and pinning you tae the door without even asking first.”

Oh my God. You could not just fall in love with a man after 3 dates. And yet looking at his blown out eyes, how his body thrummed with barely contained lust for you and how he nearly vibrated with the effort of holding himself back because he wanted to treat you right… you had fallen in love with a man after 3 dates.

“I thought…” you said, your hand coming to rest on your flushed chest as you tried to find the words. “I mean at dinner and then at the movie, I um… well I wanted you to, you know. I thought maybe you didn’t want to? Which is fine obviously. I mean if you didn’t want to.”

The whiplash from going from lust to humiliation to lust and back to embarrassment was not something you were enjoying. You looked at him, he looked at you and after a few long moment the two of you burst into laughter. What a bloody pair you made. He came over and wrapped you in his arms, that wonderful scent that just gave you a feeling of contentment deep in your bones sinking into you.

“I want to. Was hard for the whole film, couldnae move that popcorn bucket or someone was getting an eye oot. Wanted tae spank ye red raw for all that teasing” he confessed into your hair, so sincere and blunt about it that you weren’t sure your pussy was likely to forgive you if you didn’t go out of your way to tease him next time.

“Wanted?”

He laughed, probably because you sounded somewhat like a petulant child, and leaned back, hands going to gently cup your face. Looking into his eyes felt like a gentle falling. Falling into a warm bed on a cold morning after a hot coffee, falling into the first fresh powdery snow of the year, falling in love with a man you hardly knew but felt so much like coming home.

“Was planning on asking ye tae come with me up North. Got a nice cabin in the Highlands that I usually rent oot since my Captain is always going on about having a backup plan. Want it tae be perfect.”

“You don’t have to go to all that trouble.”

Nobody ever had before. In your somewhat limited experience men wanted to get to fucking as soon as they could and while a few had made sure you came first, none had ever put much thought into getting you into bed in the first place. It just sort of happened. You would never have said you were insecure, but at that moment you felt the crushing weight of feeling that you didn’t deserve this man making such a grand gesture just to get inside you. You already wanted him. And there was no way he wasn’t experienced, how would you ever be good enough to warrant all the effort he was going to?

“Hey, look at me beautiful” he said quietly, thumbs rubbing soothingly across your cheekbones and coaxing your eyes back to his. “I really like you.”

Those four words ruined you entirely. John MacTavish put his heart out there with such simplicity that it stunned you. He could have thrown you on the bed and fucked you rough and savage and you’d have enjoyed it, but instead here he was butting his forehead lightly on yours in affection despite his evident arousal because he wanted more than that.

“I really like you too.”

Instead of fucking, he held you while you cried like a baby, overwhelmed by the care he took with you. He only made it worse when he whispered to you how you deserved to be treated with adoration. He called you beautiful, bonnie thing, mo leannan, winsome wee thing (that one made you laugh). He refused gently when you wanted to take care of him that night, instead laying you down softly on the pillows and lapping between your legs to bring you to slow orgasm after slow orgasm until you were boneless and sated, slurring your speech as he bundled you in his arms and you spoke about everything from your childhood pets to your great hopes and dreams until you drifted off into the best sleep of your life.

–

Your first time with him inside you was in that cabin like he had wanted and it had been the most perfect few days of your life. He had made sure you felt safe and comfortable, insisting you gave the location to your friends and going over maps of the area with you, pointing out where you’d need to go to get signal to check in with them. He bought ingredients for all of your favourite meals and stopped for a snack run on the way to boot. He showed you his test results but stressed that he was putting no pressure on you either way and if you did want to have sex he would have condoms if you preferred. And after all that he made it clear that you did not have to have sex with him if you didn’t feel like it. Johnny would be happy to just hold you for a weekend. As soon as you arrived he taught you how to use the sat phone if there was an emergency. The voice on the other end was gruff but soothing somehow, safe sounding (that at least was something that never changed about Simon, despite not liking the man, you always felt safe with him).

You were ready to explode by the time he finally laid you in bed. He stroked deep and slow inside of you, steady and solid and torturous. You understood then the difference between fucking and making love. It was the first time anyone had ever shown you the latter.

He then proceeded to show you the former in great detail on every surface inside the cabin and on quite a few outside. Your pussy was battered and your clit bruised in the most delicious ways. Your throat was raw from screaming and from being fucked. After a lifetime of swearing up and down it was never something you were interested in, you wound up practically begging for his cock in your ass because there was not one part of you that you did not want dripping with him. And of course he was only too happy to make sure you understood everything he would do to prep you by letting you do it to him first. You couldn’t fucking sit down for a full day after he had indeed spanked you red raw for the teasing you had done on that 3rd date.

A week later you met his family, the week after that his brothers in arms. And then he was gone and you were so worried about him that you constantly felt nauseous. It took years for you to be able to settle when he was deployed, to not spend the whole time imagining him not coming home to you. Because by that time that was what you had built together, a home.

You and Kyle became friends throughout the years. You really did like him, he was easy going and would laugh and let you bitch about Simon whenever you wanted. Captain Price came to feel like an older brother. He was there whenever you needed him, whether it be a car breakdown or because you were in a panic about a handsy coworker (poor guy had broken both hands in an accident the next weekend). And Simon? Well not too much changed there, you dealt with each other when you had to and were it not for your shared love of Johnny you suspected you’d have killed one another.

At least until Las Almas.

–

You didn’t know how you were going to tell Johnny. In fact, you probably wouldn’t. What good would it do? It had sorted itself out. That was how you tried to think about it. Food poisoning had made the pill ineffective for a day, you had gotten pregnant unplanned and unwanted and had lost the baby before you’d even started showing. It didn’t matter that while Johnny was somewhere being a hero you had heard a tiny heartbeat at the doctors. You told yourself over and over again that you didn’t want it anyway. You tried to think about how awful everything felt all the time. The morning sickness, the fatigue, the mood swings.

It was probably just the shock of it, waking up wet from the blood and thinking you were dying. If your first thought had been that you’d rather you die and the baby lived then you tried not to dwell on that. She would have had Johnny’s eyes. He would have wanted a mohawk so he could match his daddy. You forced an image of you telling Johnny and him being upset and not wanting a baby. It was useless. You knew that man. You loved that man. And that man would have gently made sure you wanted to keep it before bursting into happy tears and kissing you senseless.

You couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t break his heart the way the last few months had broken yours. Maybe it was selfish, to want to keep this pain for yourself when you knew beyond a doubt that he’d be desperate to share it, to take as much as he could from you and turn it to gentle comfort the way he always did when you were hurting. But you wanted to be selfish over this.

It was a whole new pain when you answered the door and Ghost was standing there. Your knees went from under you and you collapsed with the weight of why he would be at your door. Why would he be here without your Johnny? It was the first time Simon Riley caught you.

You never spoke about the way he held you gently and told you that Johnny was ok, he was alive but injured. He made you laugh through your tears and snot by telling you what a bad patient Johnny was being, how he was about ready to beat up every medic on base to get back to you because “I dinnae need fucking morphine I need tae eat my bird’s pussy”. His Scottish accent on that impersonation was truly dreadful.

Simon never thought he would find himself comforting you. He didn’t like you, he never had. Johnny had never been so serious about anyone and it drove him nuts that you made him so happy. Happiness like that was an easy thing to ruin and you could ruin it if you wanted, that scared the shit out of him. It was even scarier when Johnny had shown him the ring he was planning to offer you.

He never told Johnny how you had broke in his arms that night. How you had told him about the miscarriage in the dark, bled your pain all over him and let it sink into his skin. He had taken it gladly. In the light of the morning you went back to your dislike of one another, but something had changed in the dark.

–

You never did tell Johnny. You and Simon settled then on some sort of begrudging respect for one another. You still argued and bit at each other, but with the knowledge that now you would be part of one another's lives forever through Johnny given that only a few days after he came home he had slid a ring onto your finger.

Frankly you were fucking terrified when you came off of the pill. The only thing that got you through it was, unbelievably, Simon mumbling to you in the pub over a game of pool that you were going to be good parents. Of course Johnny had told him you were trying, but you found you didn’t really mind as you grumbled back an awkward thank you.

You could have strangled Johnny for having such strong fucking swimmers. You hadn't expected to get pregnant almost as soon as you were off birth control and it meant your wedding dress had to be altered to account for the small bump there. The bump he could not keep his hands off. Honestly the man was already insatiable, but fuck he loved you pregnant. He was already talking about more kids and you hadn’t even had the first one, he fucked you and groaned about wanting you pregnant all the time.

Your husband, something you thought you’d never get sick of saying, drove you mad once again in the late stages. You were hornier than ever and he was determined to treat you like you were made of glass all of a sudden. He certainly still gave you as many orgasms as you demanded, but gone was any rough and feral fucking. You loved making love with Johnny, but fuck if you didn’t miss the fucking.

You’d never tell Simon it had been your suggestion, not under pain of death. Neither of you had been attached to any name in particular, but you knew how much Johnny loved his Lieutenant. He was his best friend and they owed one another their lives several times over. There was a good chance that you owed him your life. Your husband had kissed you with so much love when you had asked if he’d like to call your son Joseph and after talking about it late into the night you had agreed that the little human inside you was your wee Joey.

A wee fucking bruiser is what he was, coming into the world kicking and screaming. Ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes. You joked that he must have screamed so loud he had damaged his own ears when he was referred to the audiology clinic after a second newborn hearing test. They stressed that you shouldn’t worry over it, but you hadn’t been anyway. Joseph was the strongest most wonderful thing you had ever seen, whatever came of it he had two parents who were going to make sure it never made his life anything less than a grand happy adventure.

Johnny had hated leaving him. Price had hated to ask it, had sent you enough flowers to start your own florist in apology. You understood though, your husband was off saving the world after all. Your heart was in your throat when he kissed Joey’s head and then kissed you soundly. Something felt off with him. The kiss felt different somehow, mournful. Maybe it was just a trick of your memory, hindsight tainting what you hadn’t known was the last time you would see your husband.

–

Simon Riley caught you a second time. John MacTavish was dead.

#mhairiwrites #cod #fanfic #soap x reader #ghost x reader #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x john mactavish #eventual happy ending #my guys I wrote this in one go this evening so have mercy on my soul #enjoy all the sprinklings of trauma in here that are surprise tools that will help us with angst later

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anachronic-cobra · 1 month

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How many death threats do you think I'd get if I wrote a queer book where the Devil falls in love with Adam from the Garden of Eden when something causes him to Fall from Heaven? And they both have to unlearn their religious trauma? And I retcon the existence of god because I think that's a more interesting take on the concepts of heaven and hell?

#from the desk of anachron #like adam resents him for the garden and lucifer did do that intentionally but regrets the consequences of acting in anger that way #but he also hates that Adam looks down on him for being the Devil #he knows he was prideful in his youth and he knows he didn't really get it #but eons of interaction with human souls will do wonders to make you realize some stuff about yourself #anyway fixing millenia of religious trauma by enjoying sin in moderation to prove good and evil don't actually exist #except as moral judgements we place on ourselves and others

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vampyre-kin · 9 months

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Thinking about the fact that 200 people have liked my horny religious trauma playlist.

The Internet brainwash got to me for a second where I was like "that's not that many people." But that's 200 people listening to the same songs as me, 200 people who found my playlist and saved it so they could come back to it, 200 people whose lives I have impacted just the tiniest bit.

#blasphemy #sacrilege #religious trauma #spotify playlist #religious imagery #catholic guilt #priest kink #hierophilia #blasphemy kink #its a real genre mashup this one because it wasn't about sound it was about vibes #can you tell i really like sharing playlists with people?#“hey i made this playlist” translation: “heres a small piece of my soul‚ i hope you like it.”

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emilydickinsonsghost · 3 months

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When you have zero interest in canon but the fanfiction is really good.

That’s how I feel about Christianity. Like, no hate, but it just isn’t for me. And yet I am a huge fan of the gay Bible fanfics known as Good Omens and Jesus Christ Superstar.

#good omens #JCS #jesus christ superstar #blasphemy #fanfiction #forgive me father for i have sinned #neil gaiman #andrew lloyd webber #fuck my immortal soul we vibe #ineffable husbands #jesus x judas #fanon > canon #musicals #Christianity #religious trauma

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elbdot · 5 months

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So, you and white haired boys, huh?

Oh don't even get me sTARTED...

Somehow they just keep getting worse and worse EACH TIME, I DON'T KNOW H O W

#ASTARION TOPS THEM ALL THO LIKE OH MY GOD - NO ONE CAN REACH THAT LEVEL OF TRAUMA #And EVILNESS QUITE FRANKLY #The most twisted fcked up sassy asshat of them all #of SOUL YOU GUYS WEREN'T AWARE OF YET #THAT ONE IS O L D #Lil' teenage me's first anime crush LMAO #At least I am self-aware enough about my TENDENCIES TO FICTIONAL MEN #And I DO mean FICTIONAL #I WOULD NOT WANT THIS IN REAL LIFE #“I CAN FIX HIM” NO BICH YOU CANT!!!!!! YOU CAN'T FIX A SINGLE ONE OF THEM #IT'S ONLY FUN IN FICTION BECAUSE IT'S FICTION!!! YOU CAN FIX'EM ALL IN YOUR FIX-IT-FICS HOORAY!#With Astarion I am just here for the show #He is so terrible it's funny as heck #And when he ISN'T nasty Neils voice performance for vulnerable gentle Astarion??? Goes down like BUTTER #OH YEAH THAT'S THE GOOD SHIT #I'M HERE FOR THIS #mod #reply #soul evans #guzma #astarion

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kimchicuddles · 1 month

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For every "old soul". May you find safety, happiness, and wholeness. Thank you so much for supporting my work! patreon.com/kimchicuddles

text reads:

Maybe you missed out on having a childhood because of trauma. They called you an "old soul". They said you were mature for your age.

You always had difficulty with connecting to your peers, or even feeling like you HAD peers.

But if you missed out on it then, it's OK to learn how to play now. It's safe now.

Draw or dance for fun. Just for you, without trying to make it "look good" for invisible critics.

Do whatever makes you truly happy without guilting yourself over it. You deserve happiness.

#trauma #recovery #healing #childhood trauma #old soul

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is-the-fire-real · 2 months

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Another bit on the pro-Pal fandom, this one axiomatic

Being a good person is not the same thing as pretending as though you believe you are a good person.

Being a good person takes work. You have to do stuff. Doing stuff is hard. Doing good stuff is harder, because you have to put thought into determining what you think is good beforehand. That requires self-reflection, honesty, a willingness to challenge oneself, and taking in information from other people to verify that your concept of "good" is, well, good.

The nice part is that once you evaluate what is good and start doing good things, it becomes easier. You gain inner calm, peace, and even joy.

("Good" is not always the same as "necessary". Necessary work can be a slog, or it can be horrific. But there can still be a calming satisfaction at the core, the security that this is necessary and therefore worthwhile.)

Pretending to believe you are a good person takes less immediate work. You don't have to do anything that positively impacts the real world, and you don't have to do any of that annoying, time-consuming self examination. But in the long run, it's more exhausting. By far.

You are insecure about whether or not you are a good person. You're pretending to believe you are good. You can't feel secure in something you pretend to believe. That insecurity gnaws at you, especially when you engage in bad behavior--harassment, doxxing, posting gore, swarming tags, encouraging and promoting suicide among your fellow "activists", telling your opponents to kill themselves, stalking, spamming unrelated content with literal Nazi propaganda.

None of those are good things good people do. And you understand that. You would think someone was bad if they did those things to you. The cognitive dissonance between who you want to be and who you really are, as determined by your actions, is scary. It's painful. It rears up every time someone you have labeled a Zio colonizer scumbag asks you to please just stop and you remember a time when you begged someone--an abuser, a troll online, a 4channer, your parents--to just stop please just leave me alone.

That must feel terrifying, and again, it makes you insecure. It makes you question if you're doing the right thing.

So you do the work to pretend to believe you are good. And that's far more work than goes into being good.

You recruit others, and all of you agree that you will pretend together. Tabletop gaming has taught us how powerful this imaginative play can be. You all reassure each other that you are good and you are right. But since you're all lying to each other, that means you must spend more, and more, and more time every day telling each other that you are good, chasing that high, that feeling that you are a good person and your actions are justified.

You tell each other that your "opponents" in this "battle" are not people, so anything you say or do to and about them is okay. You look at lists of "dehumanizing tactics" and instead of internalizing what those lists are teaching you, you go: "Ah, so if I don't use the word 'vermin', anything I say should be fine!" And then you say it.

You do not smile over good news. You only smile when one of your opponents logs off Tumblr because you made the site unusable and unsafe for them. (The expression you make there isn't really a smile, but we'll call it that, since the corners of your mouth do turn upward.) You tell yourself you're just attacking Zionists and pretend you do not see how you're really going after Jews.

No self-examination; that would mean admitting that you're lying to yourself and others. Instead, you traumatize and exhaust yourself until you're psychologically incapable of self-examination. You watch snuff films. You stare at mangled bodies until you're weeping and physically ill (certainly, you're too ill to check whether the video is real, or if it was taken from this conflict).

You force your beliefs into your fandom spaces so that others, the bad people, cannot escape their complicity in genocide.

But more importantly, you do that so you can't escape.

You cannot engage in any fandom but the pro-Pal fandom because that takes imaginative energy away from your biggest pretense--that you're a good person.

You are NOT hurting people because you are striking a blow for Palestinians. You are hurting people, including yourself, because you do not want to do the work of becoming a good person. You are afraid that self examination, at this point, will reveal to you that you are exactly the sort of person you believe you are fighting.

That fear, that insecurity, that dread, that restless sense that if you ever rest or stop or think for just a moment, you'll discover something awful? That's your conscience.

I do not ask you to change your mind about your political opponents. Your defenses are already on your lips and in your mind; a thousand How Dare Yous for me hinting that you look at other people as people. What I will ask you is to consider this.

I came to young adulthood just as Bush was elected, and the Iraq War post-9/11 was the first war I really followed as an adult. I did what you're doing now. I forced myself to look at photographs of destroyed bodies. I looked at photographs of torture perpetrated by US soldiers. I blogged about it obsessively.

I told myself that I was Doing My Part to end the war. But really, it's that the anxiety of being an American during the war made me insecure over whether or not I was responsible for all of this, and therefore, a bad person. If I pretended my looking at snuff photos was activism, and that it was good, then I could pretend to believe I was good and shout "Not in my name" at protests. I could deny my responsibility.

What I really did was traumatize myself. It's been almost twenty years. I can still see some of those torture pictures in my head. In the end, that is the extent of the impact of my online activism. The blogs are all long deleted, and nobody remembers them.

Only my trauma remains.

I do not want this for you. I want you to be wiser. There is still time. You can stop.

Stop hurting yourself and other people. Do the hard work. Examine yourself and your actions. Consider what your own heart is trying to tell you whenever you start to get the shakes and your throat gets tight. Do not take that feeling out on random people online because they have a Magen David in their pfp.

Once you have done the hard work, it gets easier. You will be able to advocate and work for whatever causes you believe in because you know they are good, not because you're joining your friends in cosplaying goodness. You will still be traumatized, and you will still be sad, and you'll definitely still get angry. You will have to face how you've acted exactly like your own past abusers, and that's a real tough row to hoe.

But at the end, you will be able to advocate and work because you want to, instead of feeling as though you must in order to keep up the masquerade.

#free gaza #free palestine #palestine #politics as fandom #suicide #torture #trauma #worse than slacktivism #abuse #is-the-fire-real original #g-d damn it you've got to be kind #i understand you won't listen to this. it's okay if you don't #i may have addressed “you” but i was soothing my own conscience #because i think it's a good thing to tell people to stop harming themselves and others #and it's not my responsibility to change your behavior #it's yours #i'm also not addressing your antisemitic actions #not because you aren't doing that #but because that is between you and your dark night of the soul

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