#Implied Childhood Trauma

[trauma-culture-is-blog]

trauma culture is knowing whenever someone is upset because that is something you needed to learn to keep yourself safe

- 👁🌌

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[chronicsymptomsyndrome]

Nobody is “too young” to be cynical or jaded or hate their life. There is no appropriate age for that. If someone is experiencing that at any age, their mental health is at risk. Doesn’t matter how young they are, or how easy their life seems. Just because existential dread didn’t hit you until later in life, doesn’t mean everyone else gets to be so lucky.

“You think life sucks now? Just wait until you’re grown” okay grandpa what if they don’t make it to adulthood? What if it gets worse until they only see one way out and they take it? Stop being dismissive. Stop forcing your problems onto young people and start taking them seriously about things. Period.

(Inspired by this post)

[huntquinlan]

it’s honestly a shame that sjm is not an author who deals in allegory or is an author who would be able to tactfully write this because i honestly feel like azriel’s scars are such a missed opportunity. i’m putting this under a read more because the topic is sensitive and will be tagged accordingly.

while azriel’s burn scars in canon serve as a physical representation and reminder of the abuse he survived from his father and brothers, when i was reflecting on them and azriel’s own complex relationship with his romantic life and sexuality i realized that if the author of acotar was anyone other than sjm azriel’s scars could easily be read as symbolic representations of trauma from csa. it comes down to them being on his hands as well, hands so often being the conduit by which any type of physical intimacy is initiated.

i think this interpretation is strengthened by azriel’s aversion to fire while fire has been associated with incredibly passionate sex in universe (“fire in his blood and fucks like it too”).

what it ultimately comes down to, for me, is azriel’s centuries long obsession with mor. which comes off as incredibly comphet and strange until the eris reveal, which brings to light the incredibly charged relationship between eris and azriel. and it leads me to wonder how much of it really is mor, if it’s not just the safety of the idea of her to cover what azriel really desires because he’s functionally unable to process that.

not only are the illyrians written as incredibly traditional, but there is no indication given they are accepting of same sex attraction. azriel, who suffered so extremely at the hands of his father and brothers, that he still bares the physical burn scars to his hands, having any attraction to the heir of autumn, practically the crown prince of fire, would be incomprehensible to azriel’s mind. and any part of him that did comprehend it would be terrified and probably ashamed.

eris, of course, represents everything azriel fears and despises. but more importantly, he is the opportunity for azriel to heal from past traumas and fully accept himself and his sexuality.

this interpretation doesn’t negate the possibility for ‘kinky’ azriel either. since everyone seems to be preoccupied with whether he can be a leather dom daddy or not. frankly, any sort of bdsm practice would offer azriel a sort of distance during intimacy (depending on the act and his role) but above all else, enthusiastic and clear consent.

[obikindred]

This is so stupid and I kind of want to add more to it but. Blehh. So here it is like this for now… anakin gleefully recounts his master’s childhood trauma to ahsoka because he thinks its funny

[small-but-mightyy]

now i’m suffering, and you couldn’t care less

[actual-changeling]

i'm good in a crisis.

not calm, but good. calm on the outside, maybe, my face set in stone, my body carved with jagged edges. don't touch me, it says. don't come near me. don't try to stop me.

i was raised on adrenaline and cortisol. i feel at home in fear, with teeth snapping close to my face, with shadows growing and reaching.

home means counting steps on the stairs, listening and knowing, means holding my breath, my tongue, means biting my lips until they bleed so i stay quiet.

good in a crisis—or maybe i simply never knew anything but.

my body disappeared more and more with every year, my mind shrouded in mist, in caressing darkness, until all that remained of me was my fear.

fear is home, fear is me, fear means i am still alive. if you have fear, you have something to lose. it means you haven't lost yet. it means there is purpose to this, somewhere. a meaning to the pain.

i'm good in a crisis.

there is always one, there is always something. my hands quiet, tremors settling as i become cold to the touch, eyes widened, nails digging into my palms. always something. no, always someone.

people scream, panic, hesitate, bargain, lose themselves in anger and denial.

let me tell you a secret: i pity them. no, that's not quite right. i am upset? no—scared. scared for them. i do not understand why they turn in circles, why they freeze and lose, why they stop running. they will catch up with you. the danger will not pass quicker if you put your head into the sand and pray.

trust me, i tried. no one will answer.

norepinephrine floods my body, i taste copper and salt, and i act. sometimes it means freezing. sometimes it means running (run run run and never stop, never look, keep running). sometimes it means gripping your fear and using it as a weapon. collateral damage is unavoidable, my kindness lost along the way; i'm almost sorry.

i'm good in a crisis because it makes me sharp, clears my mind.

danger is children surrounding me, cornering me, and i run and run and run, unable to escape because eventually recess will end. because eventually i will go home and flee to the one place no one can follow.

danger is familiar, cruel steps on the stairs, the creaking wood my only warning sign. it is the colour blue in the mirror, it's voices weaving nightmares, it's a fear of the light but not of the dark.

danger is my feet balancing on a cliff's edge with my eyes closed and nothing to lose.

feel the wind on your face. feel your heartbeat settle. nothing to win, nothing to lose. no one listening but you. there has never been anyone except you. the destruction of the self is only feared when you are still whole.

i'm good in a crisis. i'm always scared.

[buildingtoacrescendo]

Why do I struggle to remember?

[angelbvn]

YOURE FUCKING JOKING??? YOU RUIN MY LIFE AND IM THE ONE APOLOGIZING????

[forget-the-feeling]

I don’t want them to become better. I know they never will

[youraverageventblog]

Sometime i just sit and remember that elementary school kids (4-10 year olds) should not be intensely suicidal like I was at that age.

[rpmemes-galore]

reblog if your muse would gladly fistfight their parents...

[chloroformcurry]

A rather heavy experimental piece. Could count as oc content and as something applicable to a real life issue igs. I hope I took all the right precautions on the tags 🙏

[the-axolotl-skellie]

The man who played God.

Rewritten backstory! TDLR is Lune and Sol were supposed to be Vessels for these two gods to possess and save monsters. But Lune didn't come out right. Uhh TW for implied CSA, and child abandonment!

I purposefully also based Gasters skull off Papyrus, to more so show why Lune is afraid of Papyri. They... let's say Lune say Gaster without his mask alot.

The year was 20XX, underground, and a man named WD Gaster had a dream. To honour the God's that created monster kind, with a vessel worthy of their immortality. To hope they would come as ANGELs and save monster kind.

The man created two SOULS. One he created after painting of the Goddess in her mortal form, the Axolotl—That symbolized her healing and MERCY.

The other, after the warrior of the God, the Phoenix. Symbolizing strength and DETERMINATION.

As the two souls were created—One came out so... Perfect. The perfect vessel for the God that gifted the sun. The perfect skeleton that took resemblance of Gaster himself, he dubbed that one, Sol.

The other, which would've been named Lune, came out weak and unfinished. The thing wasn't a perfect vessel, a perfect sacrifice, it was a mistake. He wouldn't even talk to it.

So while Sol was shown off, pranced around, and treated as highly as the crown by monsters, beloved.

He never did say a word about Lune. No, no that one, would remain in a small cell in his laboratory, on the lowest level. He would use it to relieve his stresses, he had no wife after all and it was useless otherwise.

And eventually. The God did come, though not thr Goddess. But one was more than enough to free monster kind, breaking thr barrier.

Leaving Lune alone in the lab.

[gaybae1021]

Hey, heads up this is a heavy comic. I think I’ve tagged everything I need to but if you think I missed a tag let me know. The darker themes are implied, but if you’re uncomfortable with anything in the tags feel free to scroll on.

Uh oh, heat wave in Phoenix Drop. You know what that means? Summer outfits! And you know what that means? New scar reveals! And you know what that means? Unpacking childhood trauma!

Panels fused version:

[yuricin]

any parent who knows that their spouse/partner is abusing their kid and still defends the abuse and chooses them over their own kid should just get buried in a ditch, honestly.

you had a job as a parent to fucking protect your kid, but you betrayed them by siding with the person who hurt them, when your kid came to you for COMFORT, HELP, AND SUPPORT. you see a child being abused, and your first reaction is, "my partner is doing it, so it's fine."

you chose a shitty person over your kid's safety. this shit makes kids grow up to have trust issues, fear of abandonment, and a shit ton of other issues because their development got fucked up at a young age. all because of YOU. fuck you. you failed as a parent, and you shouldn't even be around kids in general.

[fav-444]

it's a 50/50

either $h or m@sturbation