#suffering

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Today's schedule:

1. suffer

[burningcomputerpersona]

some very good tags by @e-the-village-cryptid

Btw, that idea that privilege makes you morally evil and suffering makes you morally good is just repackaged versions of the Christian concepts of the evils of luxury and the holiness of martyrdom. Hope this helps!

[wisdomseulogy]

JUST BREATHE

Jason Todd X Reader (Gender neutral except that reader is pregnant)

TW: Death, Abortion, Teen Pregnancy, Heavy Angst, Religious imagery, sadness, suffering, mentions of SI, happy ending. This is meant to be psychologically sad, do not read if you don't want to experience that. I also took some liberty with the timeline of things.

Divinely inspired by the song: Breathe (2 AM) by Anna Nalick

Images are not mine

---

You first met Jason a few years ago when he started attending Gotham Academy. By then, the school already felt suffocating. Surrounded by rich kids in an impoverished neighborhood who care more about networking then they care about actual friendships.

You felt like you always had to sell yourself just to get a few words in because you weren't like them. The Wayne foundation gave you a full-ride to the private school and you thought maybe this would be your chance to break the cycle of generational poverty. But instead you were met with a bunch of people who were busy trying to prove that they were worthy enough to be friends with. Morals only matter to people in privilege, you didn't get that choice when you were born.

But Jason was different. It felt like he understood you in a way that the others couldn't. And maybe that's why you fell in love with him and still clung to the hope of him even when times were tough.

The relationship was very rocky. You hated how secretive he was and how he could go days without messaging you or even showing up in class. It made your mind drift to the possibility that something might have happened to him. And whenever you brought this up with him he just brushed it off saying he was busy and that you wouldn't understand.

Maybe you were so blinded by the illusion of hope that he gave you to notice him slipping. His eyes darker, staring off into space for longer. His texts shorter and the times you couldn't reach him stretching from just a couple days to weeks. But when he came back to your open arms, it was like all was right with the world. That all those lonely nights were worth it if it meant you could sleep by his side at least once.

You didn't expect to get pregnant. How many teenagers really expect that? But when you saw those two blue lines your heart fluttered for a moment, like a snowflake distilled in time, until it plummeted to the floor. A kid. His kid. Your kid.

Your brain turned into a flurry of thoughts. What would he say? Would he care? Would he want to be a part of the kids life?

A part of you was thankful it was his, at least you knew that the Wayne family would help you two to take care of the kid so you wouldn't have to relive your own childhood once again from a taller perspective.

It wasn't long before you started looking at baby clothes and trying to figure out what name you would give the child. But after a while the numbing fear of having to break the news to him set in.

He was on one of his no contact binges again. You figured he would come back in a week or so and you could tell him then. But he never came back.

What did come was a spattering of missed calls and texts. When you saw your phone lighting up in the middle of the night you smiled and assumed it must be Jason.

"Please call me back." A text from Bruce Wayne. You forgot he even gave you his number. A vague memory of him putting his contact into your phone at the last 'family' dinner telling you to let him know if anything happened.

You weren't sure when you stopped breathing, but you took a forceful inhale as you sat up and paused your finger over the button to call him back.

"Uh hey, it's me. You wanted to talk? Is Jason ok?" The words flew out of your mouth is a stuttering speed.

The short silence told you something you already knew. Jason was not ok.

Your conscious mind didn't even register Bruce's response before you found yourself running to the bathroom to throw up. The world was spinning so fast and all you had to hang onto was the toilet.

Someone came to check on you. You don't even remember who, your body moving on auto-pilot as you take a back seat and watch as the blizzard intensifies.

You were running through an endless tunnel and the snow banks were getting higher and higher. Screaming and clawing your way out. The closer you got to the light, the farther away it felt. Until you were standing in a church dressed in mourning black and holding a bouquet of roses. The thorns biting into your fingers but you didn't care. Nothing felt real anymore.

You looked around and you recognized the others. Bruce, Dick, Alfred. But that was it. Just you, them, and a coffin. His coffin.

Maybe it was the December air that froze your tears, and you tried so hard not to beat yourself up for not crying. Shouldn't you be crying?

A firm hand lands on your shoulder and you turn and look up at Bruce, his face cold and impassive. He notices the slight trickle of blood dripping down your fingers and onto your clothes.

"You should have Alfred bandage that up when...you're done," he said before giving you a tight smile that did nothing to encourage you. "I'm sorry," he says before giving you a pat on the back and walking away with Dick.

Sorry. That word meant nothing to you anymore. What was he to be sorry about? The news said it was the Joker. That he had been beaten so hard with a crowbar that his body was indistinguishable. They figured out it was him from dental records and blood tests.

You vaguely remember being asked if you wanted to see the body and you shook your head. You don't want to remember him like that. Like a beaten corpse. You didn't want those images poisoning your memory.

His memory.

The memory that was growing inside of you. The child that you had so much hope for turned into a parasite. A reminder of everything you've lost.

There was no way you were going to raise a kid on your own. Sure, you could have told Bruce that the kid was Jason's and maybe he would offer support, but that would mean having to tell people that you were pregnant with Jason's child. And if you said that aloud then...it would be real.

And right now its just a secret. A secret that no one needed to know. A burdened that was for some reason pushed onto you and now you had to decide what to do.

You hadn't been far along. If you went now you could get an abortion. Or maybe you could pray diligently and hope for a miscarriage. Or you could drink so much that you hope both of you die.

A very small part of you hoped-reasoned-that maybe Jason could take care of the kid for you if you let them reunite. Another part of you was going through pages and pages of people explaining how it is just a fetus and you shouldn't feel anything. But that fetus was once a bright star in your starless night, and now it is a black hole threatening to destroy everything.

Their eyes felt like they were burning through you. But everyone was here for the same reason right? And it was just a medical procedure and you didn't have anything to worry about and the receptionist gave you smile that reminded you that you still existed. That sometimes we work so hard for a future that we have no control over and eventually some people are going to wind up in a waiting room.

And it just so happened to be you this time. Trying to breathe through frozen tears in a vast silent snow covered meadow. Hoping that eventually December will just be another month and you will be able to live past this. Maybe one day the sun will shine and your heart will defrost and you can be happy once again. That you can smile once again.

Life is like car ride and you are the passenger. The only choice you have is which window to look out of and which music to play. But your destination will always be the same. And maybe one day you can look out of the front instead of the back.

Its been years since then. Since you closed your eyes as your half-naked body lay atop the medical bed like a bleeding lamb on an alter. Presented to the heavens as an offering. Praying that this was the right choice. And if its not to grab your soul and destroy it. Or else let you be reunited with the man you loved.

The pain gets better over the years and eventually you are smiling again. Even through the thickest of blizzards, the sun can still shine. Though at first it felt wrong, like it was burning your skin. That you weren't meant to be in its warmth and you were meant to die of hypothermia. You eventually get used to it.

To have loved and lost meant that you at least were loved. Knew how to love. Knew how to hope. Knew how to exist.

Though you never did cancel the baby registry. Your mind stills slightly as you get the email congratulating your baby for their 5th birthday.

And you don't even notice as the sun glints off a red helmet. You turn off your phone and go back to hanging out with your friends.

---

Not beta read.

[bigdipper24]

I would assume the Pope would answer B. Aware, but unwilling to stop it. To elaborate a bit further. Assuming there is a God, and assuming that Free Will is the cause of Human Suffering, if Free Will exists the answer would be B. God is unwilling to stop Human Suffering because he does not wish to take away our Free Will. And he cannot stop Human Suffering without also taking away Free Will. If Free Will does not exist, the answer would be D (for Determinism). God Deliberately causes Human Suffering because he sets our the paths before we are born. Thus the suffering we experience is "part of the plan". This could be viewed as we have some form of free will, and that the Suffering, or lack thereof, is god using a carrot and stick to coerce us to return to him. But I still think B is the more likely answer you would get from most Christians. Answer A admits he isn't all knowing, or at least all empathetic to the current state of humanity. Answer C admits that he isn't all powerful. Answer B and D both admit that he isn't all loving, but I think that there is some wiggle room in B to still make an argument for God being loving even if he is unwilling to stop suffereing. I can imagine a Christian would say "Our Suffering is a result of the fallen world, of our choice to abandon God for a world of sin. It is the practice of sin that produces suffering. If God stopped us from sinning, could we chose to love him? Could we really recognize him as Lord? No. It is through suffering that God's love is magnified and what draws us to him." Personally, I think that if we assume there is a god, the answer would be "A: Unaware it is happening." I think that if there is a god, it is not a god with the qualities of the Christian god. I think this god is simply a Cause without Cause, and that through this force called "god" the rest of the universe began. Therefor, after that singular point, "god", or the Cause without Cause, really isn't aware of anything.

[followmenot]

[bonsai-loves-the-light]

spent the entirety of part 46 mentally preparing myself for the stupid mushroom scene and im still not ready

[minimalist-quotes]

You think attention is love and that’s why you suffer so deeply.

[bearwizzard999]

'Bite Your Tail or Say it!'

2025 sketchbook drawing

[wh1teswans]

From pinterest, not mine!

[caveofbrokenwonders]

Remember to suffer.

Remember, a good slut knows her place. A good slut knows she is a doll, a toy for men. A good slut remembers that she doesn't get a say. She knows not to speak up when its uncomfortable. She knows she is supposed to be used however he wants, even if that means she has to suffer.

And if you are not in the position to have a man make you suffer, you should do it to yourself regularly so you dont forget your place. Whether that be edging everyday without orgasms for a week or more, slapping your cunt when you wake up or before you eat, or using a toy thats too big and hurts, you can always remember to suffer.

[moonlitmourningjournal]

- jitterati

[letsplaythermalnuclearwar]

I love Suffering animatics/art where Odysseus has a chain or rope around his ankle, connecting him to the mast. not only is it a great reference to the source material, but it implies that someone on the ship was worried that the mere sight of Penelope might convince Odysseus to jump in the water, even though he knows its a siren who will kill him

and that they were so persuasive in this argument that Odysseus actually agreed to it

[aura-likes-all-the-things]

The siren took one look at Odysseus and said ‘girl dad’ and no matter how wrong she was, I respect it.

[blessyo4]

I know a place where no one's lost I know a place where no one cries Crying at all is not allowed Not in my castle on a cloud

[prickly-porcupine-memes]