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#tw: ptsd

October is Domestic Abuse Awareness

Domestic Abuse 24hr Hotline: 800.799.SAFE


This was something I’ve been meaning to write for some time and decided that it would be a nice way to wrap up this month.

Please take care of yourself when reading. I have provided the USA national hotline that is available 24 hrs. Please if you are outside of the USA reach out to your countries hotline.

Trigger Warning: Graphic description of physical, emotional abuse. Reference to sexual assault. Alcoholism. PTSD.

Word Count: 464

I will be doing solo, one off pieces for Marie & Sackler as well as the Adam Sackler RP account. Hence the name ‘Marie’ being used in the piece.

I will not be tagging my taglist for this story.

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@softsliders29rp​ || Klaus

Halloween. What a fucking joke. His life had been a never ending horror movie. The amount of blood he had seen since he met Hannibal would make any horror movie creator dizzy. Looking down at his hands for a couple of seconds, remembering all the things he had done with them, he shuddered. Not even noticing that anyone was around. 

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27. This has simultaneously been the most difficult and freeing year. I have delved deep into shadow work, surrendering my years-long tendency of repression, and while the work has been exhausting and painful, it has liberated me from feeling estranged from myself and admittedly, the world.

I suffered for such a long time silently—terrified to seek help—and I wasn’t even aware of how desperately I needed it until I felt like an imminent danger to myself; therapy was traumatic for me in childhood, and the experiences that I had while institutionalized caused me to avoid treatment altogether thereafter.

While it was suffering that led me here, I am grateful for my present intensive therapy team; I am not invalidated or belittled—I am upheld in every way—and I am healing. I understand now why I have spent the vast majority of my life feeling fragmentary. I am not ashamed of my mental illness or less than whole. I have a beautiful life and deserve to do more than just exist in it.

I have been diagnosed with MDD, GAD, CPTSD, depersonalization/derealization disorder and fibromyalgia, and this year has given me the immense blessing of prioritizing my wellness; it is this gift that allows me to celebrate my life today, and my sisters life—it does not feel complete without her but I hold her in my heart, as I always have, and rejoice that we have had each other in the depths of our souls despite the distance between our paths.

I have amassed so much love along my journey and I will never abandon my gratitude for how it has unfolded; there is a greater good and everything that happens is divinely so. I am exactly where I am meant to be in this moment; cuddling with my cats, taking in the wonders of another glorious trip around the sun.💖

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klaus is extremely powerful and could be a great asset when fighting bad guys but his PTSD after vietnam makes him so terrified that when he hears gunshots or chaos his default is to curl into a ball, put his hands over his ears and block everything out as if he’s back on the battefield and just like he did when he was a little boy 🥺

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not klaus covering his ears and curling up into a tiny ball in luther’s arms when the commission rains fire on sissy’s farm because it reminds him of vietnam and dave and the fact that dave is on a bus on the way to his death right now because of him

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Ok, this has neither 37 nor 42 chapters, but what’s in a number?  Andrew doesn’t exactly say those words you mentioned either, but they do end up in a bathroom in the epilogue, with Andrew providing his usual brand of support.

We are very, very curious to find out if this is the fic you’re searching for, so if it’s not, and somebody out there knows the real answer, please let us know? - S

A switchblade  is my preferred weapon by badacts [Rated: M, 150134 words, Complete 2016, Locked Fic]

The Foxes take on an injured Kevin Day, and get a Raven-trained backliner with a point to prove into the bargain.

tw: abuse,  tw: violence, tw: rape/noncon, tw: nonconsensual drug use, tw: knives, tw: blood, tw: withdrawal, tw: canonical character death, tw: nightmares, tw: ptsd, tw: vomit, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: scars, tw: murder

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“Why didn’t you let me know you were okay?” @flylikefalcon

The immediate, true response was bitten back and swallowed back down to his stomach before it could slip out.  Because I wasn’t.  

He was luckier than some that came back, he knew.  Two of the other men in his truck had required amputations after the IED.  He’d seen plenty of injuries over his years in the service, men who were blown halfway to hell and left damn near unrecognizable.  He’d seen even more men who didn’t make it home at all.  

He knew all this.  But it hadn’t made him feel any better when the world was silent as a grave around him, and his leg fucking hurt, and more than anything he wanted to be back on the battlefield and not in a teal-toned hospital room day in and day out for almost a year.  It hadn’t made him feel any better knowing that things could’ve been worse when he’d been thrown back into civilian life with a monthly check from the government and discharge papers that declared that his skills were useless without the hearing he’d lost in the blast.  A great many days in that two years between the accident and Ra’s, he’d almost wished that he’d been left there in the sand rather than left in his island of an apartment with nothing but a check every month and ‘best wishes.’

But he hadn’t been left. A man with mechanical wings had scooped him up and carried him to the medical facility a mile and half away, and in the delirium of blood loss and brain damage, Tarik had almost been convinced the man was an angel.  

Sam Wilson, they’d told him later.  They’d given him an address, too, for the man’s deployment at the time, but at first he couldn’t think of what to say, and by the time Wilson’s deployment was supposed to be coming to a close, Tarik hadn’t felt grateful anymore.  He’d felt angry.  

With the benefit of nearly a decade put between then and now, his perspective had warmed considerably.  So instead of telling the truth, Tarik offered the lie the man deserved to hear.  “I sent a letter on my last day of PT.  They told me you’d already shipped back by then.  You’d be surprised how many Sam Wilsons there are in the United States, flyboy.”  

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Numair and Sav take a few moments to get lost in each other again before they are interrupted by Daine re-entering the kitchen to announce that Constant’s left to go back to the palace without anyone being the wiser.

On their way to go pick him up, Sav appears to be super duper anxious despite how many times he says he’s fine. Daine rebukes him for thinking that everything that’s been going on with Constant, from the difficulties they’ve had as brothers to the running away to the palace to Constant’s PTSD, is his fault somehow.

She also takes the opportunity to slyly insinuate that Sav might have a form of PTSD himself, though Numair is able to somewhat turn the tables on her and imply that she likely does, too, given her behavior around animals.

Before it can go any further, several carriages come down the road, forcing everyone to move aside.

And something about the carriages sets Daine off, burying herself into an embrace with Numair, hiding her face against his shirt as she cries. Numair can’t figure out why and doesn’t want to dry attention to her by having to yell over the crowds to ask, but he does eventually notice that among all the other horses trotting by is Cloud.

An ironic event to happen immediately after Numair uses Daine’s avoidance of animals as a sign of her PTSD, and a heart wrenching one for anyone familiar with The Immortals Quartet and Daine’s relationship to her pony.

This is where Numair being an academic comes in super handy because Numair is already a relatively laid back dude with some very great values on personal agency and respect and those two things combined with his academic knowledge allow him to have moments like these, where he can brings things to Daine and Sav and Constant’s attention that they’d never otherwise have any reason to know and do it in a way that they might be willing to listen to and accept and understand.

Also, this is apparently the first time in the fic that Numair and Daine have an embrace and my little Copperhawk heart is squeeing in glee. I mean, she leans on his shoulder and backs up against his chest back in chapter 16 or so when they’re around the kittens, but Numair is being very careful not to scare her off so he doesn’t really reach back, he just lets her take what support she needs from him. It’s SO cute to see the small incremental steps forward they take in their relationship, showcased in some of the more understated physical moments like this one.

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The sound of the busy medical bay where the patients the current injured of the blood war laid, filled Hanataro ears as he made his way past the blurred faces of his fellow fourth division comrades. He heard muffled talking, only making out a few words. “Thousand dead- thousand more injured ” was the words that echoed through Hanataro ears as he felt warm liquid was on his hands. Glancing down he notice the  color of dark crimson on his hands and dried spots on his uniform.

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Trigger warning: This post will contain content that talks about childhood trauma and PTSD. If you are triggered by these or uncomfortable with such topics please skip this post. 
A/N: Aged up, Pro hero Deku!

Aizawa Shouta:

  • He doesn’t consider himself to be a good parental figure but does have an honest soft spot for kids. He understands your position and tries to keep himself from triggering you or putting you in stressful situations. 
  • He is fairly protective of you and how people look at you. Help the person who might decide to make a comment on you or your quirk. He won’t snap but he makes sure he makes a point that they’ve stepped way out of line going after a child. 
  • He gets a bit overwhelmed himself on bad days and has to learn over time what you need when you have episodes and/or bad days. If you need some supplies and space he gives it to you. If you need him to embrace you and assure you of what you need, he will. 
  • The good days make him grin. Seeing you going about the day without the weight of what you’ve been through recently hanging on you. Over time those days become more frequent. 
  • He feels so bad when you have an attack while he isn’t around to help you. You assure him you’re okay but he still feels bad and makes it up to you. 
  • Honestly, once you are ready to be given a family, he might just cave in and adopt you instead. He grew to care for you and worries that whoever adopted you wouldn’t know how to handle your attacks and make it worse for you.

Midoriya Izuku:

  • He was the one who saved you, so he took responsibility in housing and caring for you for a while. His main concern was getting you in a stable place mentally so you can recover from the surface trauma that was left.
  • He was conflicted about how you clung to him. On one end he was happy you felt safe by his side but he was also concerned it would mean you’d have troubles separating from him when he had to do Hero work. 
  • You’re first time having an attack scared him beyond belief. He couldn’t calm you down enough to ask what you needed so he got you some basics. Water and some food to refuel after you came back down. Once you had he gently asked what you wanted him to get you and what you needed. He made sure he was always ready after a time or two. 
  • He didn’t want you to feel alone during this times and it made his hero work more complicated. As he worked his way up towards #1 it meant he had to be present as much as possible. However, he chose to take some time away. As much as he needed to do his hero work he wouldn’t want to leave you with someone else.
  • He’s almost constantly checking in on you if he notices a shift in your mood or behavior. He does what he can to prevent you from having an attack and having to relive your trauma, but sometimes it’s inevitable and he makes sure you and he are ready for it. 
  • As you heal and good days become more frequent he returns to work but makes sure you are in a safe place first and are taken care of by someone he trusts deeply. Sometimes when he finally returns home to be greeted by you in a good mood, smiling, he can’t help but feel proud. You’d grown so much. Even when bad days happen he is so proud as you both work through them.
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It was late, but Jessica had always felt more at home in the night. Dani already shared that predilection, which made Jessica worry about exactly how much was passed through DNA. And when she worried, she thought. And usually she drank, but since that wasn’t an option, she walked. Tonight she was in Gotham, had stopped by for a case. When it wrapped up, she just stayed, deciding to catch the morning ferry instead. 

Fall was here, and there weren’t many trees in the city, but the few that were had already started dropping their leaves. The crisp ones crunched underneath her boots. Gotham was loud, like New York, distant sirens and bangs and cars and yells. But it was all pretty far from her. She focused on the crunching leaves, eyes down on the ground. That’s why she heard it before she saw it. She paused and looked down the alleyway. 


It was her. That girl in the domino mask who had been on her rooftop. She was gasping for breath, her eyes wide and unfocused. She looked terrified — but not of anything happening now. Jessica bit her lip hard, and stepped forward. 

“Hey,” she said, not too loud, but loud enough to cut through whatever was going on in the girl’s head. “Hey, you with me? Can you hear me?” She reached out a hand, but stopped short, setting it on her stomach instead. “It’s okay. You’re… well, you’re in an alleyway, but you’re safe anyway. I got you, just talk to me. Tell me… about the last sunrise you saw.” 

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Puck and her mother were driving back home from a nearby town when her mother suddenly got a fit of the heart. She lost control over the car and drove off the cliff. Puck screamed for her mother but she was already gone. Before the car crashed down, a bright red energy spike tore through the roof and a creature jumped out of it. Digging its claws into the scrap as it watched the car left behind to explode. After a howl it quickly jumped down to watch the car wreck burn together with what remained of its mother. Another howl before it went into a frenzy. Leaving nothing but destruction in its wake before collapsing and turning back into a little girl. There she lay unconscious for a day and a night before she was found by a group of hunters who followed the path of destruction. 

Luckily there were no Earthlings nearby when she was raging through the foliages of trees. Any animal caught by her rage was slaughtered on the spot. It wasn’t a pretty sight for sure. Her body was fully healed up while she was unconscious which left the hunters puzzled as why she was without any injuries. They still brought her to the nearest hospital where she was reunited with her father. The news of her mother’s death wasn’t told to her until they were back home. Puck had no recollection of the day of the accident and how she had her first transformation into a werewolf. It was decided to soften the blow by not telling her the truth how her mother met her end. 

Getting anxiety when sitting in the back of a car, the occasional night terrors of car crashes and falling down from something high, until this day she can’t place it and doesn’t understand it. Nobody who’s willing to tell her either. She’s left guessing why she feels the way she does. Puck is suffering from an untreated Post-traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).

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*Me vibin listening to music and drawing*

*hears a door slam*

*gets shot back to Oklahoma and starts thinking I’m back in my old room and and start worrying about who pissed my mom off this time and is about to get up to check on my brother*

*remembers I’m in college 2 states and 1000 miles away*

Me: “ huh wow didn’t know it did that

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Titlestress relief

Author: romanoff (AO3)

Rating: Explicit (NC-17)

Fandom: Avengers

Word Count: ~82k

Tags: alpha/omega AU, Dom/sub undertones, omega!bottom!tony

Summary: They don’t love each other. They barely even like each other.

Comments: Oh lawd. This is such a great fic. I had to put my phone down and cackle to myself many times throughout. Lots of porn, lots of angst. It’s pretty dark, particularly Steve’s character, and it gets quite rough - so do keep that in mind.

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