#suffering in silence

[dalliancekay]

Aziraphale does NOT need to suffer MORE

Can't believe I have to say this. TW: grief, mourning, death (sorry) I have, since falling into the fandom 6 months ago to escape real life, seen many takes on how Aziraphale needs to suffer in S3 to match Crowley's suffering. Mainly as the counterpart to the moment Crowley thinks he lost Aziraphale as he's looking for him desperately in the burning bookshop.

Then drinks, we suppose, to dull his pain, waiting for the Armageddon. Also, the way Crowley suffers at the bandstand argument, the 'I Forgive You' moments, which many people find utterly devastating and incredibly heartless from Aziraphale. Not to mention when he doesn't react in the 'right way' to Crowley's confession in the Final 15. And then on top of that, 'abandons' Crowley. Oh and also for, and I quote: "The smug and entitled way Aziraphale went around in S2 assuming Crowley would love and follow him everywhere." And for all this pain that Crowley endured for him, Aziraphale should suffer in S3, to I assume, even out the scores. Some people want to see him lose it, show his emotions, to cry or beg or otherwise show how much he misses Crowley and how very sorry he is for what he's done.

Now for the TW grief content I motioned above. You can skip to the next sentence in bold.

WE ALL SUFFER DIFFERENTLY I was on holiday late September last year, visiting my mum, stepfather and my two younger brothers. We went to a cousin's wedding. It was great. The day after, as I was hanging out reading a book my mum got a call. The kind of call every mother fears. My youngest brother (he was 27) died in an accident. We needed to speak to police and the coroner. She cried and cried. She's still crying. She asks questions. She gets no answers. I did not cry. I talked to the police. I googled a funeral home. I bought my brother his last set of clothes. He lived in a hoodie and torn black jeans. Mum wanted a suit. But he died in the one he bought for the wedding. I texted a lot of people. I bought snacks for the many friends who came to the funeral and wanted to speak to us after. My grief feels like a vice. I am not sad. I do not appear sad. Contrary to what people expect. But I am ANGRY. I am furious. But nobody can see this. I am not fine and I wish no one would ever* ask how I was again. TW/Personal content over. Since I was small (because I am weird like that) I genuinely wondered if, finding myself in danger, I could scream like people in films do. I don't think I could. I cope with hard situations, fear and stress and anxiety by shutting down, sometimes by retreating too, by furiously trying to find a way out. And I think Aziraphale does the same. And that's why I love him so much. And why I feel get him and understand that people sometimes can't tell how much he's actually feeling. I also express love the way Aziraphale does - by organising things for people I love, inviting them places, making plans. When Crowley said you call me for three things (and it's basically any old reason) I felt SO SEEN. This is what I would do with a friend who I know is feeling unmoored, sad, stuck. I'd text them with any old thing. I'd never actually say I love you, how can I help though, I would try to get them to talk, meet me, go somewhere. Aziraphale does not express emotions the same way as Crowley.

But his emotions are valid nonetheless. He is worried for Crowley from around 3 minutes into their acquaintanceship. And he NEVER stops worrying.

And are we quite sure he has never lost Crowley?

How many times did Aziraphale's heart freeze in horror when he realised Hell has taken Crowley and he had no idea if he'll ever come back and what is happening to him?

How did Aziraphale spent the night after vanquishing the demons and starting a war? He had no idea where Crowley was. He was probably sick with worry that Hell just took him away. We didn't see him drink, but surely, the worry must have been overwhelming. The wait for what will happen.

ALL his worries over the Arrangement. Was he worried for himself? Do we really think that?

Crowley thought he lost Aziraphale in S1, yes, we saw that. And what happened to the angel then?

He got blown into atoms which I bet wasn't pleasant and when he arrives in Heaven he limps. Why is he hurt? Why is he quickly pretending he isn't? Why is he always hiding how he feels? Also, he immediately deserts, wants no part in the Holy War and quickly finds an extremely unconventional way to get back. It's not a grand gesture, he doesn't deliberate, doesn't worry that he will Fall (although surely that must have been what he thought), there's no pomp around it, he thinks it and then does it. No hesitation.

Is this coming from an angel who just can't leave Heaven behind and longs to be a part of it? Who loves to follow rules? And let's not forget in those moments Aziraphale thought Crowley was most likely gone. That he probably left for Alpha Centauri. Last he heard from him he was told he was talking to an old friend and had no time for him. Why we NEVER talk about how that might have felt for Aziraphale?

Things are not as simple as Aziraphale has been supressing his emotions and lying to himself about how he feels and he should get over it and become free. That's not how this works. He was suppressing his emotions OUT OF LOVE. His main goal was always to keep Crowley safe. They simply couldn't run away or hoodwink Heaven and Hell. They had nowhere to go. They had no hope and yet they kept loving each other. That's courage. I know we all grew up with Romeo and Juliet and Heathcliff and Cathy and we FORGOT that those were CAUTIONARY tales. And this is not what Aziraphale wants for them. He would never allow himself to go so fast he would hurt Crowley. He feels guilty enough for agreeing to the Arrangement and for meeting Crowley at all when he knows they can be discovered and punished at any point. And Crowley knows it and RESPECTS it. He does not tolerate Aziraphale's decision to not go on a date and to hell with circumstances. He understands Aziraphale's reasoning and he respects Aziraphale's decision. Don't forget, they have NO POWER. They can't change Heaven and Hell. They can't stop believing in God and work on their religious trauma. Their Heaven and Hell are real places with real power and they BELONG to them. Aziraphale's trauma and his personality are deeply intertwined and he'd probably never be the kind of person who is open in showing their grief or stress. He will learn to be more open, I' sure. With his love especially, we see him reaching for and touching his demon in S2. Openly being with him, looking at him without guarding himself. They got a little bit of freedom for themselves despite ALL odds. So. Just because Aziraphale is not crying and screaming and I dunno, tearing his hair out or whatever some people would have him do, does not mean he isn't overflowing with pain, fear, uncertainty, doubts, worries, and so much anxiety that if he let it all out, half of the solar system would turn to ashes.

Aziraphale does not need to suffer in S3 to level out Crowley's suffering. They are, unfortunately, equal in their pain as they are in love. If there is one thing Crowley would never abide, it'd be this take from the fandom. * One more note on grief: (obviously from my personal experience) As initiated by @anthony-crowleys-left-nut in a comment

It's not that I mind to know people care and worry etc, but asking how I am can only end in me lying (fine, thank you) and both of us knowing it's not really true and feeling awkward or not lying (I feel like shit, mostly cos I can't sleep and think the world is a stupid unfair place) and both of us feeling awkward anyway. Does that make sense? I wish I could tell friends/colleagues to ask what I've been up to or something similar instead. What I've been reading (um, AO3, but I'll make something up), watching, do I want to go see some spring flowers bloom (I do).

[linecrosser]

Febwhump 2024 - Day 7 - Suffering in Silence

Not able to share whats going on in your head, because you would suffer dire consequences if you ever spoke about it.

[kabie-whump]

♡ Febuwhump Day 7: Suffering in Silence ♡

@febuwhump

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Whumpee who has been injured in a high tension situation. The team is trying to sneak through somewhere. It’s really really really important that they don’t get caught.

The team knows Whumpee’s hurt. They can see the pain on their face; can hear their barely suppressed whimpers. But there’s nothing that can be done. No words of comfort that can be spoken.

And then Whumpee collapses, trembling. The team drags them to a corner where they aren’t necessarily safer but at least a little more hidden. They examine the wound - the projectile that is still embedded in their skin and now leaking black ooze into their bloodstream.

“I have to take it out right now,” Healer says gravely, “Keep them quiet.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

[whumpinthepot]

When caretaker finally gets the sleep deprived whumpee to bed and is trying to be quiet around the house:

@febuwhump 2024, Day 7. Suffering in silence

[snowywinterevenings]

Suffering in Silence

Obi-Wan is suffering from lack of physical contact and time spent with others, so Cody takes matters into his own hands.

[uniquevoidflowers]

Summary:

Legend’s chest continued to flare with white hot pain that made the veteran hero want to scream, but he needed to be strong. He’d be fine suffering in silence.

—————————-

Febuwhump 2024 day 7: Suffering in Silence

[blackrosesandwhump]

Febuwhump Day 7: Suffering in Silence

CW: 2nd person pov, bleeding, stab wound

Pain knifes through you. You grit your teeth against it and pull your overcoat closer to hide the wound. Your steps are slowing, your legs getting weaker, but you can’t stop, not when the others need you—

A spasming cough makes you double over. Blood speckles your hand. That’s not good. That’s pretty bad, in fact. But you walk on, suffering in silence as snow falls lightly through the dark.

A little stab wound won’t phase you.

The cold seeps into your bones, and you shiver. Another slice of pain under your ribs. But they need you, so you keep going.

@febuwhump

[ronnieannroyals1]

Febuwhump day 7 - "Suffering in Silence."

An ending (not so) Fit for an overlord

After the final battle Alastor disappears. Days pass, but no one has seen him. Charlie had assumed him dead, Yet Husk's and Niffty's deals are still going on. After a more days pass Rosie appears asking for him, and Charlie has no choice but to set out on another mission.

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

Day 7: Suffering in Silence / Chronic Illness

@febuwhump prompt: Suffering in Silence @badthingshappenbingo prompt: Chronic Illness

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Wrecker, Omega, Echo This story is inspired by this post by @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius. This was one of the first Bad Batch posts I ever saw on Tumblr, back before it was my fandom, back when it was my mutual's fandom and kept cluttering my dash and I was wondering what it was all about. The consideration of the downsides of the Batch's mutations is what what got me interested in the characters and really stuck with me. Anyway this fic imagines Wrecker as a chronic pain sufferer. Enjoy. Word Count: ~640 Click here to read on AO3

Synopsis: Omega wants to play, but all Wrecker wants is rest.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was one of those days when everything hurt. Hurt if he moved. Hurt if he didn’t. Hurt if he curled up, or stretched out, hurt if he was touched, hurt if he wasn’t. Hurt despite cold or heat or massage and hurt despite the painkillers Tech had passed him without comment.

It felt so futile. He knew his body was strong. The strongest of them all. Knew as well there was nothing wrong with his joints. That had been closely monitored. No, nothing physically wrong. Just agonising pain that danced through his senses, radiating out from each joint and leaving his muscles feeling like lead.

He could still do his job. Could push through, clear his mind, remind himself there wasn’t actually any damage to his body, that he could push past this imagined discomfort and come through for his brothers when they needed him.

But today there was no mission. Today was downtime, stuck on the Marauder, and that almost made it harder. Nothing else to focus on. Nothing to take his mind off the all-consuming, ever-present pain.

He lay in his rack, wincing with every small shift of position. Nothing to do but watch a holo on the small data-pad screen and pretend he was paying attention to the story, not to each niggling ache in his body.

“Hey Wrecker-”

Those were Omega’s chirpy tones,

“Want a game of dejarik?”

Wrecker dragged his thoughts away from his own misery to look at the blonde clone girl, bobbing on her toes beside his bunk with a smile on her face.

He didn’t want a game. He wanted to be left alone.

With a groan he painted on a smile that he hoped she believed. “Sure kid. Gimme a minute and I’ll be there.”

Closing the holo and discarding the datapad, he took his time sitting up in the bunk. He swung his legs over the side, planting his feet on the floor. Rolled his neck and his shoulders to ease the imaginary stiffness that wasn’t stiffness at all, just pain, just a signal along his nerves with no origin that felt like it should be accompanied by stiffness, even though he had full range of movement.

Pushing to his feet, he couldn’t hide the pained expression that fleetingly crossed his face as his body protested the movement. But then, his body protested all the time. That was the problem.

He caught Echo’s sympathetic look from the bunk opposite. The disabled reg was reading, also on downtime. He was the one who was closest to understanding.

“Need anything, Wrecker?” offered Echo quietly.

Wrecker summoned his usual grin, throwing a thumbs-up at his team-mate. “Nah,” he said, in a much stronger voice than he was feeling. “I’m fine. Jus’ needed a minute, an’ now I’m all rested up. Ready for action!”

Echo gave him a knowing look, and Wrecker’s smile turned strained. It was easier to say everything was fine. No point complaining. It wouldn’t get him anywhere. There wasn’t anything the others could do to help.

“All set up, Wrecker!” chimed Omega’s enthusiastic voice.

“On my way!”

Wrecker held his arm out, and Echo tapped forearms. It hurt just a little, more than a gentle touch should. A gentle touch shouldn’t hurt at all. But it was nicer to feel connected by those touches than it was to avoid the pain, so he endured.

Seeing Omega’s delight as she beat him at the game – again – didn’t relieve the constant low-grade ache in his body. But it was a distraction. He could concentrate on her dazzling smile, and push away the uncertainty of his situation a while longer.

Omega didn’t know about the phantom pain. She didn’t need to. He was her brother, and he would ignore all the discomfort in the world if it meant seeing her smile.

[krystaln78]

Sometimes suffering is just suffering. It’s doesn’t make you stronger. It’s doesn’t build character. It only hurts.

— Kate Jacobs

[em-writes-stuff]

Suffering in silence

day 7 of @febuwhump

sidekick, medic, hero

476 words

warnings: bruise, accidentally hurting a friend (in the past)

~

Sidekick inhales sharply as she walks, hand held tightly over her abdomen. Medic glances her way and she waves him off. 

He furrows his eyebrows and she shakes her head, mouthing, “I’ll be fine. Just wait a few more hours until this mission is over.” 

He frowns, but nods. “As long as you’re sure.” 

Hero turns his head to look at them and looks questioningly at them. Sidekick shakes her head, “He wanted to make sure I unplugged the toaster this morning.” 

Hero nods quickly and turns his attention back to Villain’s car. 

Medic gives her a look and she shoos him away with a smile. “The mission is more important.” 

He turns to face the car, but stays where he is so he can help SIdekick should the need arise. 

With the others on the team focused on other things, Sidekick peels her hand away from her abdomen and pulls her shirt up to look at it. 

The bruise has moved on from the angry red stage and is now a furious purplish blue right over her ribs. She winces and pulls her shirt back down before Medic turns around to check on her again. 

She forces a chuckle and rolls her eyes playfully at him. “You’re so worried. Do you have a crush on me or something?” 

Medic turns bright red and turns his attention back to Villain’s car. Sidekick looks down and her smile vanishes. Her hand covers the bruise over her shirt and she bends over to put more pressure on it. 

Twenty, maybe thirty minutes later, Villain leaves the house and gets in the car. Hero pulls his phone out and pulls up the tracking app. All three of them stare intently at the blinking dot on the screen. 

When Villain pulls out of the driveway and the dot moves with it, they all cheer silently. Sidekick laughs a little too hard and buckles over in pain. 

Medic rushes to her side and pulls her shirt up, “Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?” 

“Gotta keep you on your toes?” She says, pulling her shirt back down. “Let’s get out of here, then you can go all mother hen on me.” 

Hero stares at her. “Was that from training this morning?” 

Medic turns to him and his face turns red in anger. “You did this?” 

Sidekick grabs his arm and shakes her head, “It was my fault, I wasn’t quick enough.” 

“You told me I missed.” 

“Shut up, Hero!” They both say at the same time. 

Sidekick ignores the look on Hero’s face and pushes herself to her feet. “I’m fine, really. Nothing a few days taking it easy won’t cure. Now both of you stop worrying about me and make sure Villain actually makes it to his destination. Or else all this work will have been for nothing.” 

[tropicalflavors]

the lack of content on eldarya made me buy valkyon's spin-off when during TO I was oblivious of him. that's the state I'm in.

[whumpster-dumpster]

I totally understand the appeal of the stoic whumpee finally breaking and crying out in pain. I do. But my I present the inverse? The whumpee who'll milk a papercut for weeks suddenly growing silent. Stargate Atlantis' McKay whump fics were always good for this. The team'll be trying to figure out how to get out of their situation when suddenly the icy chill down their spines as they realize McKay hasn't spoken in a while, that his moans and constant stream of complaints have grown silent. They turn, and he's not unconscious, but he's clearly going into shock and/or in so much pain he can't vocalize anymore and/or semi-conscious due to blood loss. With that they realize that the situation has become dire and they're running out of time.

Or, alternatively, the whumpee who deals with pain by vocalizing has their voice somehow taken from them. They can't talk, they can't scream, they can't use the one method they've always relied upon to manage the pain. (SGA fanfic comes through on this too, with a story where McKay is paralyzed by these lizards that then try to eat him alive and he can't even scream)

👏👏👏

Stoic Whumpee's breakdown usually feels like a release, therapeutic in some way even if big and eventful. When the loud one goes silent, it's scary!

[psychologeek]

Lab Rat (pt. 1)

FEBUWHUMP 2024

DAY 1: helpless

DAY 7: suffering in silence.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. This isn't what she wanted. It's not – she prepared, but never really thought –

Her brother is passed out in the back seat, hardly patched up. They didn't have time to fix all when

After

When –

She doesn't think about it. She doesn't think about how he hasn't woke up yet.

She doesn't think about the storm raging out of the car.

She doesn't think about the hopelessness in the situation,how it was NEVER MEANT TO HAPPEN.

There's a scream in her head that won't let her think, a howling storm to match the outside. She can't tell if the low vision is related to the drops in or outside of the car.

(Does it even matter?)

The gas bulb lights up, and she misses the first exit as her mind struggles to understand what that means.

She only realizes that she's shaking as her hand fails to enter the gas fuel to the car tank. 

It's cold and she's still wearing a summer dress. It was a nice day before her parents –

Before the Fentons–

She doesn't think about the kid in the back of her car, or how he hasn't moved in the last hours. She doesn't think about the green-glowing IV in his arm.

She's not a medic, but she tried. She tried and tried and tried for years to keep him alive, to keep him happy and thriving.

(And she failed.)

(Like it? I have more mini-fics in this au. And full size fics on ao3 please vote in my update poll!)

[its-my-whump]

Febuwhump - Day 7

Suffering in silence

@febuwhump

Tw: illness, vomiting, unconsciousness

He was laying in bed, a stomach ache bothered him since last night. First it was only a slight pinch in his guts, like he had once in a while, when he had eaten something too greasy on an almost empty stomach.

This time, he hadn't had anything greasy, but he hadn't really eaten for a few days. He wasn't feeling too comfortable at all, so he had no appetit and only nibbled a bit on whatever he could find in his fridge or miserable stocked pantry, even too tired to go shopping.

The pinch turned into a cramp during the night and with first light, the contense of his stomach also resurfaced. He hardly made it to the bathroom in time on sour legs. A waterly gush interruped by constant heaving and strained breathing found its way into the bowl, while he was clinging on it for dear lift.

The cramps in his guts had turned into the agonising sensation, that someone was driving a knife into his intestens again and again.

After rinsing his mouth, he stumbled back to bed on unsteady legs. The sun was almost over the horizon and sneaked through under his curtains. It took him not even 4 minutes and he made his way again. After another uprising, the way back to bed was even more straining. Without his hand pressed against the wall, he wouldn't have made it. He wanted to let himself fall into the sheets, but an abrupt movement would have only unearthed more of that distusting stuff.

So he stumbled to the side of his bed and sank down like an old man. The moment his butt touched the wooden edge, his vision turned black and he fell head first into his cushion unconscious.

It was a fresh night and he was on bare feet and only in his boxers and a shirt, that was soaking wet clinging to his skin. He hadn't even noticed the fever.

He just lay there for a long time, like his limp body had fallen, feet still partly on the ground and his body tilted to the side. Sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. His sweat had turned cold in the surrounding fresh air of his bedroom.

A hand was shaking him. His feet were lifted and he ended up on his back, not even knowing what was going on.

The shaking was disturbing, but not enough to open his heavy eyes. A few slight slaps to his cheek from a cool palm. But he was still much to tired bothering to get some energy together just for a reaction.

Then knuckles buried themselves painfully in his sternum. A moan slipped out of his lips and his eyes fluttered open. His body was shivering. He couldn't tell if it just had started or not.

"Fuck, I thought, you were a gonna." The voice sounded more relieved than annoyed, but his vision was blurry, he couldn't tell who was talking to him.

The curtains seemed to be open, but there was no sun. The sky was gray. Wasn't the sun supposed to come up?

Knuckles grinding against his sternum again. Another undeceiferable sound, apparently from himself.

"Ey, eyes on me. Stay awake. Help's coming."

My masterlist

[stuffyfucks]

ermmm first post what is popping!!!!!