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#Childe's internal thoughts are like 'but i'm supposed to be the injured one :((( i don't want YOU to be in pain :((((('
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Childe has always been the tough one between the two of you. how could he not be, with his status as the most battle-hungry Fatui Harbinger? despite countless sighs and lectures from you, he continued to sneak into your home at night, covered in bruises and scratches but smiling as bright as the dawn when you emerged with medical supplies. so why, why were you the one now confined to your bed from injuries, having gotten thrown across a field by a particularly irritated mitachurl? you hadn't visited for a few days and Foul Legacy was becoming frantic in Childe's head, urging him to check on you only to find you sitting quietly in your bed, several patches of bandages peeking out under your clothes. Foul Legacy chitters anxiously in Childe's head as he rushes over and takes your hands in his, treating you like glass- which you might as well be, with how delicately and slowly you're moving. you smile and apologize for not coming out to meet him, but Childe simply shakes his head and watches your thumbs gently rub the back of his hands, trying to comfort him even though you're the one in pain. you must've moved wrong, in that next moment, because suddenly you wince. something in Foul Legacy cracks and in a blink he's snatched control over Childe's body, transforming before your eyes to tentatively cup your face in his hands. Foul Legacy's not used to caring for someone- Childe uses him more to slaughter enemies and feel the rush of battle- but he wants to care for you, and does his best to bring you anything you need whether it be food, water, books- and when he's not pampering you he'll snuggle up beside you, purring contently and watching you read. you're taking this rather well for someone who's only seen Foul Legacy a few times, even letting your guard down enough to lay your head on his fluff and fall asleep. or at least, he think you're letting your guard down. for you, there was no guard to begin with. if you ever try to get up before you're healed, Foul Legacy freaks out and gently tugs you back into bed, whimpering frantically. he'll rest his head lightly on your stomach- as long as it doesn't hurt much- and rumble quietly until you fall back asleep, your hand buried in his hair. if you simply insist on going outside for some fresh air, he'll carry you! you fit so perfectly in his arms, after all, and there's no point in straining your already injured body. when you're finally able to walk on your own again, Foul Legacy chirps with such delight you think he might cry. you can't walk very far, but the radiant smile you give him when you stumble into his arms says more than words ever can.
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shawtygonemad · 3 years
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What Is This Feeling: Chapter 12
Fem!9th Doctor x Male!Rose Tyler
WITF Masterlist
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The Doctor walked back into the alleyway after being laughed at by a crowd of drunks. She simply asked them if they had seen something fall from the sky recently. Then an air raid alarm went off. She had better find her human.
"Ross," she called out into the empty alleyway. Realizing she was alone, the Time Lord let out a huff. "You know, one day, just one day, maybe, I'm going to meet someone who gets the whole don't wander off thing. Nine hundred years of phone box travel, it's the only thing left to surprise me."
Suddenly a ringing filled the air near the TARDIS. The Doctor furrowed her eyebrows.
'That's not supposed to be ringing,' the Doctor thought as she approached the phone booth phone.
As she went to pick up the phone a voice from behind startled her causing her to also drop the sonic.
"Don't answer it! It's not for you."
The Doctor turned to see a young girl dressed in ragged clothes. Fear was seen in her brown eyes.
"And how do you know that?" The Time Lord questioned.
"Cos, I do. And I'm telling you, don't answer it," the girl warned.
"Well if you know so much, tell me this: How can it be ringing?" The Doctor picked up the receiver. "It's not even a real phone. It's not connected. It's not-" the Doctor paused when she turned back to the girl who was now gone. Her brows furrowed once more as she spoke into the phone.
"Hello? Hello? This is the Doctor speaking. How can I help you," she asked sarcastically to who she thought was no one?
"Mummy? Mummy," a child's voice answered.
"Who is this? Who's speaking," she asked even more confused. This was impossible!
"Are you my mummy," the child asked.
"Who is this," the Doctor asked more firmly.
"Mummy?"
"How did you ring here? This isn't a real phone. It's not wired up to anything."
"Mummy?"
Before the Doctor can respond once again the dial tone sounded. That was weird, and not the good kind. The Doctor knocked on the door of the time machine in hopes that is where Ross went.
"Ross? Ross, are you in here," she asked into the depths of the dark TARDIS. There was no response. That's when she heard a loud noise at the end of the alley. Instincts kicked in and she bolted towards the sound.
The Doctor followed to sound down the street. She noticed a family exiting the back of them home into the cellar to take shelter from the air raid. As they were leaving, she also noticed Nancy and a group of rugged looking children enter from the front. They must be scavenging for a meal. Perhaps she should join them.
As they started to get settled and still distracted the Time Lord slinked in and found an empty seat at the table. When Nancy finished carving the food slices of meat were being passed around. The kids each thanking Nancy politely for getting them this dinner.
"Thank you, Miss," One boy said.
"Thank you, Miss," Another said.
"Thank you, Miss."
"Thank you, Miss," the Doctor joined in with a grin.
The children gasped while panicking. Nancy tried to calm them.
"It's alright. Everyone stay where you are!" She instructed them.
"Good here, innit?" She smiled as she continued to fix herself a plate. "Who's got the salt?"
"Back in your seats, " Nancy informed them. "She shouldn't be here either."
"So," the Doctor started, "You lot, what's the story?"
"What do you mean," one of the boys asked, confused.
"You're homeless, right? Living Rough?" She asked nonchalant.
"Why do you want to know? Are you a copper?" Another boy questioned.
"Of course I'm not a copper! What's a copper going to do with you lot anyways? Arrest you for starving? I make it to 1941. You lot shouldn't even be in London! You should've been evacuated to the country by now."
"It's better on the streets! Nancy always finds us the best food," the children agreed.
"So that's what you do, Nancy," the Doctor said to the young woman.
"What is," she asked confused.
"As soon as the siren goes, you find a big fat family meal still warm on the table with everyone down in the air raid shelter and Bingo!" The Doc exclaimed. "Feeding frenzy for the homeless kids of London town. Puddings for all, as long as the bombs don't get you."
"Something wrong with that," Nancy bit back, ready for a fight.
"Wrong with it? It's brilliant," She laughed. "I'm not sure if it's Marxism in action or a West End Musical."
"Why'd you follow me," Nancy asked exasperated.
"I want to know what that phone rang when it wasn't hooked up," the Doctor jumped to the point.
"I did you a favor," she stated.
"Great, thanks," the alien said sarcastically. "And I want to find a blonde in a union jack. I mean a specific one. I didn't just wake up this morning with a craving." 'Liar,' her inner voice said. "Anyone see a man like that?"
Nancy grabbed the Doctor's place much to her protest.
"You took 2 slices. No blondes, no flags. Anything else before you leave," She bite off quickly.
"Actually yes." The Doc said as she got up from the table. "Anything fall from the sky? Probably about a month ago, but not a bomb! Wouldn't have exploded, and just buried itself into the ground. It would look something like this," The doctor pulled out a picture of what the ship looks like.
Suddenly a child voice sounded out. "Mummy?"
Chaos began, as scared kids quickly got up from the table and found an exit to escape to. The Doctor was trying to speak to the child, but Nancy stopped her. She claimed that if you're touched you become just like him. Nancy quickly made her exit as the Doctor opened the front door to find nothing.
After a short period of searching the Doctor found the kids at Nancy's hideout. She needed more information from Nancy if she was going to figure out what was going on. Thankfully, Nancy agreed to lead her to someone who could help. The Doctor. She internally groaned at the idea of having to meet another version of herself again. Reluctantly she venture on alone since Nancy refuse to enter. She told the Doctor that she lost her little brother during an air raid, and just couldn't handle what was waiting inside.
As she entered the ward she started to look around. She was shocked to find every bed occupied with a very still patient. After a quick scan of her sonic she realized that these things were human, but how was the gas mask fused to their face? It looked like her answer would come soon after discovering Doctor Constantine who was very sick and claimed to be dying. Much like the patients he seemed to somehow have head trauma, a collapsed chest, and a scar on the back of his hand. It was a domino affected. Only one victim was injured at first, then suddenly everyone he touched fell to the same injuries. The final phase is growing a gas mask which fuses to the face.
"You must find Nancy, again," Doctor Constantine choked. "It was her brother. She knows more than she's saying. She won't tell me, but she mi..migh…might…mummy? Are you my m-m-mummyyy," he cried as a gas mask grew from his mouth and fused to his face.
"Hello?" a voice came from the corridor.
The Doctor quickly stumbled into the corridor. She needed to warn these people to get out. Quickly turning around she bumped into a tall, handsome man. However, next to him was her beautiful human. She was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief knowing he was okay.
"Good evening," the unknown man said. "Hope we're not interrupting. Jack Harkness," he extended his hand while sending the alien a charming, flirtatious grin. Hesitantly the Doctor shook his hand. "I've been hearing all about you on the way over."
"He knows," Ross said to her. "I had to tell him about us being Time Agents."
"And it's a real pleasure to meet you, Miss Spock," Jack spoke again.
"Miss Spock," she asked amused as she looked at Ross.
"What was I supposed to say? You don't have a name! Don't you ever get tired of Doctor? Doctor Who?" Ross rambled on.
"9 centuries in, I'm coping," she said sarcastically. "Where have you been? We're in the middle of a London Blitz! It's not a good time for a stroll!"
"Who's strolling? I went by Barrage Balloon! Only way to see an air raid," he said smugly.
"What!?" She exclaimed.
Ross brushed her off, "So what's a Chula Warship?"
"Chula?" The Doctor was so confused. What the hell is going on? "What kind of Chula ship landed here?"
"What," Jack questioned, distracted.
"He said it was a warship," Ross injected. "He stole it, parked it somewhere out there, somewhere a bomb's going to fall on it unless we make him an offer."
The Doctor crossed her arms and stared hard at the new man. She did not get a good feeling from him or this situation. What kind of game was he playing at?
"What kind of warship," she questioned.
"What does it matter? It's got nothing to do with this," he said wildly as he gestured to the gas masked patients.
"This," the doctor pointed at the patients," started at the bomb site. It's got everything to do with it! What kind of warship?"
"An ambulance," Jack exclaimed. "Look!"
The man proceeded to project a holograph image from his wristband of the machine they had previously been following.
"It's what chased you through the time vortex. It's space junk! I wanted to kid you it was valuable. It's empty. I made sure of it! Nothing but a shell. I threw it at you. I saw your time travel vehicle, love the retro look, by the way, nice panels." The Doctor couldn't help but slightly smile proudly at that compliment. "I threw it to you as bait."
"Bait," Ross asked.
"I wanted to sell it to you, and then destroy it before you found out it was junk," Jack explained.
"You said it was a warship," Ross accused.
"They have ambulances in the war," Jack defended. "It was a con. I was conning you! That's what I am, a con man. I thought you two were Time Agents. You're not, are you?"
"Just a couple more freelancers," Ross told him smugly.
"Oh. I should have known," Jack shook his head in disbelief. "The way you guys were blending in with the local colour. I mean, Flag Boy was bad enough, but you, Biker Bitch?" He laughed. "Anyway, whatever's happening here has got nothing to do with that ship."
The Doctor started to pace while thinking. What could be happening here? How is it possible for this sickness to simply pass through touch and not be air born? How do the other victims also receive the same injuries as the first victim?
"Human DNA is being rewritten," She said offhandedly.
"What do you mean," Ross questioned.
"I don't know," the Doctor stopped pacing to look at him. "Some kind of virus converting human beings into these things. But why? What's the point?"
Suddenly all of the patients sat up in their beds and turned to look at them.
"What's going on," Ross asked creeped out.
"I don't know," the Doctor said slowly as she started to steer Ross behind her.
"Mummy," they said.
"Don't let them touch you!" The Doctor instructed as she led the men back.
"Mummy. Mummy. Mummy. Mummy."
This isn't good.
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cyberwavelit · 4 years
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Gamer's Debt (Short Story)
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"Crap, all I wanted was the gold chest so I can buy some extra lives. If I don't get any more extra lives, I'll lose all my gold when I die. How am I supposed to win if I have to pay for every damn thing?" Joden stepped down the ramp of his Blourgan cruiser and surveyed the alien landscape. It was barren except for the remains of a small village that he had just annihilated with a two-ton necro-missile.
"That's life. People are generally selfish, impatient, and insecure. Game companies use these weaknesses to motivate players. Maybe you shouldn't have blown up the village, is all I'm saying." The pilot of the cruiser, Jershamalama, spoke through his comm.
"But how does anyone get the hell out of this game if they can never win? I've been stuck in this hell hole for thirty days! My body’s back in the real world, rotting away.”
"Hey, you wanted to play, didn't you? Maybe if we travel to a non-npc sector we can trade off some of this junk we get every time we kill an enemy.” His pilot stared at him from the cockpit.
Joden looked back, “I feel like a slave. That garbage is only worth a pinto cent. It’ll take decades to get to the end game. And besides, that's if we can take off with all that junk. It'll take us a few hours to get back into the atmosphere. It's like a Fetch-22."
"You mean a fetch quest?"
"Yeah, something like that." said Joden taking out his cent-o-meter. It consumed his health bar as it scanned the surrounding sector. His eyes darted around his visor interface, looking at all the blips and bubbles that pinged. “I wish I could afford the Super Hyper Gold Jetpack that all the booster players use.”
“They only release that on the first Wednesday of every other month with a sign-on fee, an option to buy stocks in EternaEntertinament, a monthly fee, a mental evaluation, and maintenance fees when your able to grab it from one of the random places it spawns, like the Hell planet Infernum or the planet Madness Descent. Plus, I hear they only give you like a 3 second jump.”
“What?!” He nearly tripped over a crumpled alien body. “You can’t be serious. My mom’s going to kill me. I told her I was going to school. I figured I could just sign up for a few games, try my hand at Galactic Teamslayer, and be back at the rent-a-plex by nine. That was a month ago!”
“Relax. They won’t even notice you’re gone. Most parents have been sucked into this new thing called Binge Child Raising. EternaEntertinament created it too. It’s a simulation where adults can raise children and not have them become reclusive, angst-ridden failures. They’re really gouging everyone for money, real and fake, young and old.”
Joden was too focused on the horizon where a few blips were going off. They were purple, which meant that they were low-value targets. Everything seemed to be purple. “I never asked--how long you been here?”
“You shoulda seen it when it was it first came out. The servers would never load and you had to sit there, in the darkness, watching a timer run out as they patched their simulation. It was like holding your breath under water.” The pilot sucked his teeth. “Hang on a sec. Have to rate the game again—after this ad.”
“Yeah, I hate doing this every hour.” The astronaut picked up a child’s toy from the clutched hand of a sloblarian. “Wonder what this is worth. I heard that we used to play with things like this, not just video games where you pay to win. Up, hang on a sec, got an ad playing.”
Joden’s reality changed. He was sitting on a park bench. A duck came up to him, honking and pulling at his pants. The countdown to the end of the ad appeared in his peripheral. It quaked and quaked until Joden threw down a few coins to skip it.
Back in game world he was still holding the toy. He threw it down with distain and a lack of remembrance for such physical trifles.
He was then asked to rate the game. He voted as he always had, giving it a one-star out of three. There was a chime and a message: “We’re sorry you’re not enjoying your time in our game world. Perhaps if you were more openminded and understanding of the fact that you may not always get what you want, you might have a better experience with our merchandise. Please lower your expectations. Thank you.”
Joden coughed to drown out the message he had heard a hundred times. “I’m so tired of game companies stealing from us. Don’t they realize that it’ll only make the game suffer?”
“Yeah,” responded the pilot, “let’s go steal something.”
“I’m so tired, Jersh. I just want to go somewhere where we can kill an alien race and grind their bones into dust. What’s so wrong with that?”
“If you only knew, kid. On its launch the game world wasn’t even finished. Eterna used the gamers to construct most of the planets using the build-and-play incentive. Those gamers signed a contract that said that they had to make at least four hundred ‘products’ before they could actually the game. They called it the ‘fix-it-later’ release. The products they were referring to was one galaxy. Those designer gamers are probably still waiting…”
“Four hund--?” Joden held up his fist to the pilot, who had been watching from the ship’s windshield. “That’s extortion!”
“Welcome to the world. They get away with it because it’s a game world. You can do anything in the game world like gambling, murder, blackmail, forced labor, and forced sodomy. Nothing’s real so nothing matters.”
The astronaut had disembarked about five hundred meters from the ship. Steam bellowed from its worn exhaust. “Why did you call me kid? How old are you? I mean I know you have the same avatar as me…”
“Age doesn’t matter either. Yeah, I couldn’t afford the customizations either.” Jersh tapped his helmet. “So, I guess we both have the same face.”
“And same weapons, gear, armor, boots, ships, weapon skins, and abilities.” He noticed a large oval blob on his visor’s HUD. It was moving closer behind a small series of stone pillars.
“Oh no, I have the blue-skinned Rigormortis rifle. It’s got this badass blue stripe on the side. Cost me 20,000 gold, 200 platinum, and 4 of my lifesaving’s accounts. If I didn’t have this stripe, I’d probably go insane or worse, color blind.”
“Shut up, dude. Something’s coming. I think it’s a surviving sloblarian. I hear they get angro really quick. I don’t want to die here, man. I never bought a 600-gold resurrection pack. It’ll take sixty days to load back in…”
Jersh responded, sounding distracted, “You’re fine. Just cap it in the head or something.”
The purple blob was twenty meters away. If it wanted to attack it would have to come out into the open and charge him. He could tell there was movement but it was more restless than threatening. Joden took out his rifle and fired at the rock tower. The gun exploded in his hands, sending his obliterated fingers in multiple directions.
“Ah damnit! I forgot about the maintenance fee!”
The figure bounded from the pillar and slunk slowly towards the enemy astronaut. It skulked across the yellow, Phallusian sand with its omni-dexterous flippers. Arriving to the hunched-over human its tugged at his spacesuit and motioned for him to come closer.
“Gross dude, it wants to talk to me. What should I do?” The rounded head bobbed up and down like a rubbery ball. It seemed to be injured or at least miserable.
Joden heard distinct crunching noises emanating from the pilot’s mouth. “IDK. Step on it I guess.”
The polymorphous blob at his feet opened its crevice-like mouth and appeared to gasp for air. But it wasn’t gasping. It was whispering. He leaned down and listened.
“Dunk…prrray…Donk pppreeeey.” It was saying, and gargled as its lips flapped. “Doooonnk plllaaaaay. Chooose nut to pprraaaaay. Fyind sumting essl to do wilth yourg tyhme.”
“Oh, hell no!” shouted the man, as he squashed the creature’s face with his boot. It was like stepping on a water balloon filled with pebbles. He looked at where his hands used to be and screamed into the sky. “What does it all mean? Why do I always have to be punished! I’ve been in the same place for too long!”
"It's not good to live in a dream.” More crunching came from the ship. “You sometimes forget what life is like."
Virtual blood splashed onto the dry dirt from his nubs. A few splatters mixed with the alien’s internal fluids. The reflective pool at his feet showed his avatar’s face, the same face of his pilots. He searched rapidly for any signs of wealth or material possession. There was nothing but ooze and viscera. Tattered cloth around the dead alien’s head was smushed and torn.  
He turned toward the ship with a look of bewilderment. “How many gamers are trapped here? We can’t be the only ones. This game isn’t anything like what they advertised. They lied to us! Who would want to be stuck in this perpetual nightmare of pay-to-play, pay-to-build, pay-to-live, pay-to-pay mechanics?”
“I don’t think you get it.” The pilot was still eating. “Companies do this to consumers because consumers let them. The general belief is that consumers are very smart but when’s the last time you heard someone say: ‘I won’t buy that because it goes against my code of ethics?’ None, no one’s ever said that. People like spending money. It’s in our blood. Its our nature to trust rich people. They seem to have all the right answers even when they don’t. They make the truths that we all follow. Besides, how could they get all that money if they had bad intentions.”
Joden used his character’s remaining strength to rush back towards the Blourgan cruiser. He felt a draft of air coming in the direction of the ship, and heard the engine roaring to life. “What the hell are you doing?”
The mercenary vessel hovered three feet off the ground and its nose pointed at the runner. Its pilot could be seen through the windshield, “Sorry newb, you’re becoming to be a real downer.”
“I thought you were my friend!” he whimpered, his nubs heaving back and forth.
The ship elevated to ten feet. “None of us are really friends. We’re all just trying to make a living. And I need one more kill for the Slayer Award. We’re all just numbers.”
As he came to the plateau where he had disembarked, he held up his invisible hands to shield his face. “I just want to go home! I just want to go home.”
A cybersonic laser beam burst from the cruiser’s forward cannons. He felt the hot bathing light of the beam and then felt nothing at all.
“I can’t get out…I can’t…” He awoke in darkness. A screen appeared that read the same message he received hundreds of times, “You have died. Looks like you have low gear and feeble weapons. Would you like to buy a booster pack?”
“No.” he responded.
“A looter box?”
“No!”
He said the same words over and over before. The message continued, “You have elected to refuse game-provided assistance. This is a poor decision. In order to continue gameplay without using game-provided assistance please insert thirty-seven-point-one resurrection tokens.”
He wanted to cry but said, “I don’t have any.”
The automated voice paused and spoke again after popping up a sixty-page form. “Well that sucks. In order to continue please complete the loan agreement in front of you. The loan is for $6,000. Sign here, here, and here.”
Joden lowered his shoulders and looked at his current debt. It read: “-387,000.” He breathed out, collapsing his chest, and grew red-faced. “No!” he shouted.  
There was another pause and the form disappeared. For several moments there was darkness and silence. “Very well.” The automated voice returned. “You have chosen reincarnation. Goodbye.”
“No!” he screamed defiantly. “No!”
Then, all of a sudden, he felt strange. He looked out through oddly-colored eyes. His hands had returned but they had three fingers instead of five. When he tried to speak, he could only gasp through what felt like a straw. The sand that he walked on grew hardened in his webbed feet. An alien girl danced toward him, carrying a toy. She hugged him with pencil-thin arms and turned towards the sky. Tattered robes fell along his arm and he patted the girl’s head. He looked up, to where the girl was gazing and saw a massive fireball break through the atmosphere. A necro-missile came out of the fiery plume, heading straight for their small, stony village. 
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marril96 · 6 years
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My Baby Ran Me Down
Pairing: Rowena x reader
Summary: Rowena has made it her mission to teach reader how to drive. Her efforts get her hit by a car.
Editor: @oswinthestrange
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It doesn't happen every day that you hit your girlfriend with a car. 
In your defense, you told her – multiple times – that this was a terrible idea. Rowena ignored you, insisting that it was time for you to learn how to drive. 
And who better to teach you than a nearly four hundred-year old witch? 
It took exactly two hours for both of you to lose your temper and start a screaming match – you out of fear of crashing the car, and Rowena out of sheer frustration at your reluctance. 
One thing led to another and, with a huff, she was out of the car, slamming the door and pacing to calm her thoughts. Having had enough of her rushing you, and wanting to prove her that you could, in fact, do this, you slammed your foot down on the pedal. 
All you could remember next was a scream. 
Rushing out, your blood ran cold, chills of dread cascading down your spine. Rowena was on the ground, panting and groaning in pain. You quickly looked her over and let out a sigh of relief to see no blood or any evidence of a worse injury. 
And then your eyes settled on her leg and for a moment you could feel the lunch you'd eaten five hours earlier at the back of your throat, threatening to spill out. 
Bones weren't supposed to protrude in that angle. And the skin around them wasn't supposed to be that color. 
Waiting for the ambulance was hell. Rowena's pained screams sounded as if they came straight from nightmares. She was clutching her leg, face twisted in a grimace, her eyes looking from her injury, to the car, and, finally, to you. 
On the plus side, she wasn't yelling at you anymore. Her glare, though, told you that she wanted to. Once her pain was dealt with, you had no doubt she would have a go at you. 
At the very least, you would learn a few more Scottish insults and curse words. 
It's important always to look on the bright side. 
It wasn't easy to explain to the doctors that you hit your own girlfriend with a car, and that the reason she would make pterodactyl noises every time you'd come close to her wasn't that she was afraid of you (as a matter of fact, it was exactly the opposite), but rather that she wanted to rip your internal organs out and use them as jewelry. Luckily, you managed to convince them it was an accident (and not attempted murder, as the noises Rowena made initially led everyone to believe) and persuade them not to call the police. 
Rowena's injury was swiftly taken care of, and a few hours later you were home. 
Thanks to the painkillers the doctors stuffed her with, she stopped being noisy. 
But just because she wasn't in pain anymore didn't mean she couldn't make other kinds of noises. 
She settled for yelling. 
"What the bloody hell were you thinking?!" she exclaimed, wildly throwing her arms around. 
"I'm sorry!" you said, avoiding her glance. Face and arm bruised and scraped, leg wrapped in a cast, she looked the picture of vulnerability. It was almost unnatural to see her so wounded. You'd seen her in pain before, but never before had her movements been restricted in such a manner. 
"What, pray tell, are you sorry for? Being purposely obtuse? Not listening to my instructions? Hitting me with a bloody car?!" 
Rowena's accent grew thicker with each word. Any other time you would have found it a turn on, but now, all you wanted to do was curl up on the flood and die. Maybe then she wouldn't be so angry at you. 
"I-I w-wanted to…" you stuttered, leaving your sentence hanging. I wanted to show you I could do it. I wanted to impress you. I wanted you to stop yelling at me. I wanted you to tell me I did good. 
"You wanted what?" She huffed in annoyance. "What the bloody hell was the matter with you? You could have killed me!" 
"Y-you w-would've come back," you said in a small voice. 
"That's not the point! Do you have any idea what it's like to be hit by a car?! A hint, dear – it hurts!" 
"It's not like I did it on purpose!" you argued, tears burning at your eyes. 
"You weren't supposed to be driving in the first place! I'd made it clear that you were not to drive without me physically present in the car for this exact reason!" 
She went on a long rant on safety, listing all the ways you'd endangered not just her, but yourself as well. You stood in place, frozen, motionless, taking all her hits. You deserved every single one. It wasn't fair of her to scream her lungs out at you, but you had ignored her warnings and seriously injured her as a result. 
Though, to be fair, she had been the one who ignored your insistence that you weren't up to this.  
"I told you I didn't wanna do this and you wouldn't listen," you reminded her. 
Rowena looked offended. "Are you saying it's my fault?" 
"No! I–" 
She cut off your attempt at an explanation. "As if it's not enough that I'm in pain. Now I'm getting blamed for my misfortune." 
"Rowena–" 
"Have I not suffered enough?" She sighed dramatically. "What's next? Are you going to throw me in a dungeon and torture me? Will that also be my fault?" 
"You're being unfair," you said. You were usually the one getting her out of situations like that and nursing her back to health. Had she forgotten all those times when you'd taken care of her? Had she forgotten sleepless nights you'd spent at her side, holding her as she cried and begged for the pain to stop? Had she forgotten you making her potions, kissing her wounds, and squeezing her hand as she waited for the pain to subside?  
You would rather die than purposely cause her any harm. You thought she knew that. 
"When have I ever hurt you on purpose?" 
Rowena had the decency to look ashamed of her accusations, but she would never express it verbally. 
You, on the other hand, had plenty of things to say. 
"Think it was easy for me, watching you get hurt? You have no idea how guilty I feel!" you snapped. 
Your blood ran boiling hot, everything you'd been holding back rushing to the surface; every suppressed emotion, every word you'd swallowed so she wouldn't get hurt. A familiar rush of power surged through your veins and you started pacing. The last thing you needed was your magic getting out of control and making a mess of your home. Walking in circles gave you something to focus on instead of your magic making the decision for you. 
"I know I fucked up, okay?" you continued, gesturing manically with your hands. "I know I did a shitty thing! I don't need your accusations on top of that!" 
Tears fell from your eyes, rushing like a downpour down your face. 
"You've been yelling at me all day! First about my driving, and now about this! You know why I tried to drive on my own? I wanted you to stop yelling at me. I thought, if I proved to you I could do it, you'd be nice to me again." 
You swallowed, tears falling with more intensity. 
"Why couldn't you be nice to me?" you whimpered. "You're always so patient." 
You thought back to the time when she spent a whole week teaching you a spell that wasn't even that complicated. For some reason, you just couldn't get it right. Rowena had found herself growing irritable a few times, but each and every time she would swallow it and patiently explain the spell. She would repeat the same words like a mantra, over and over again, demonstrating the spell and explaining exactly what you needed to do to get the same effect. 
"What's gotten into you today?" 
A look of guilt flashed across Rowena's face. She stared at you, taking in your tear-drenched face, taking in all the hurt your features expressed, knowing that was just the tip of the iceberg. The true pain laid within you, nestled in your heart that beat like crazy, as if it would jump out it's bodily cage any moment now and burst into thousands of pieces. 
You were one of the few people Rowena allowed herself to be kind to, but she could be stubborn. If her pride ordered her to put on a brave face and act as if she was in the right, then she would do it. Taking small breaths in desperate attempts to get your breathing under control, you stared back at her, every cell in your body begging for her to let it go. She was obviously in a bad mood today; there was no point in forcing her to apologize. If she was going to stay mad at you, all you wanted was for her to keep her anger to herself. You couldn't handle another one-sided screaming match. 
Much to your surprise, Rowena's expression softened. Opening her arms, she said in a kind, gentle voice, "Come here." 
Cautiously, you walked over to the couch, sitting down next to her. You lowered your head on her shoulder, letting her wrap her arms around you. She held you tight, hands tapping your back in a calming manner, like a mother soothing a child. 
"I just wanted to teach you how to drive," she said. 
"I told you I wasn't ready," you said. 
One of her hands moved to the top of your head, caressing your hair. "Remember last week, when that hunter attacked you?" 
You nodded, shivering at the memory. The man was persistent, chasing after you for what seemed like miles. He wasn't going to stop until one of you was dead. And, considering he'd earlier managed to slip an iron cuff around your wrist, all signs pointed to that being you. It was the middle of the night; the town was empty, most of the people being either home or inside bars and nightclubs. 
You were running through the mostly empty parking lot, not a helpful soul in sight. Luck seemed to be on your side, however, as one of the few cars that had been parked there happened to be unlocked – and the owned had, as it turned out, left the keys inside. 
The only problem was, you couldn't drive. 
Had Rowena not arrived shortly after, you would have been dead. 
Oh.  
Oh!  
"If you'd known how to drive, you could have gotten away," Rowena said. 
How have you not connected the dots sooner? 
"You're scared," you stated, more to yourself than to her. 
"I don't want to lose you," Rowena said after a few quiet moments. It wasn't easy for her to admit to concern. 
Slipping an arm around her middle, you said, "You won't." You backed away from the hug, looking into her eyes. They were as tearful as yours, only she was strong enough to not let any tears fall. For now. You cupped her cheek, tenderly stroking it with your thumb. "Talk to me next time, okay? So shit like this doesn't happen." 
She smiled. "I suppose I was acting a bit…" 
"Bitchy?" you suggested. 
"Bitchy," she agreed, chuckling. "I'm sorry for being so hard on you, darling." 
It must have been hard for her to gather the courage and say it out loud. It was a well-known fact that Rowena MacLeod never apologized – and when she did, she usually had ulterior motives. 
This apology, however, was genuine. She meant every single word. Your heart filled with warmth. It was rare for her to acknowledge her remorse, yet for you she did. 
You pecked her on the lips in acceptance of her apology. "I'm sorry for what happened. I really didn't–" 
Rowena pressed a forefinger to your lips, shushing you. "I know." 
"I would never hurt you on purpose." 
"I know," she repeated. 
You smiled. "I love you very much." 
"As do I you." 
You let her pull you into another embrace, melting as her warmth collided with yours. Be it a small argument or one of you hitting the other with a car, the two of you could never stay angry at each other for too long. 
A/N: Please, don’t hit people with your car, even if they’re being bitchy.
Tags: @apritelleorai @darktweet @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @christinalibertymikaelson @violinmyhead @royalrowena @supwhorecorp @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @victoriasagittariablack @rowenaswife
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hottmessexpresss · 4 years
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Fever.
Back problems.
These mothafuckin'Kids.
Three days ago, my son woke up sick. He had this look* on his face. An unsettled look. He looked me dead in the eyes, and he started to gag. My eyes widened with horror. My instincts kicked in, and I did what my dad would do when I was growing up. The only sure way to know you have reached another level of parenting: held out my hands cupped together held under his chin. A vomit catch-all, if you will. Maybe it's a kid instict too. He knew* what it meant and what to do. He played and was fine throughout the day. Thank god.
The NEXT day, I developed a decent fever. I felt like my body was ran over by an 18 wheeler. "Greaaaaaaaaaaat!" I thought to myself. I laid on the couch half dead in a pool of my own sweat staring at the clock. Is 7:00 too early for bedtime? My daughter ended up puking ONCE that evening, so i figured it was a 24 hour tummy bug. No other symptoms. No more vomit. Both kids seemed fine. I prayed that I would not fall ill, and that I**wouldn't be sick. Could you imagine? Being sick AND being the mom? Being the house chore manager? Being the post-op surgery home nurse? What the hell would that* be like? Well, my dad has always told me, God must have a sense of humor based on my life being like an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm....and it was a god awful sense of humor, if that.
Yesterday, I was swiffer wet jetting a pool of urine on the floor. I shook my head, did my usual lecture on how only an animal would pee on the floor. How grayson wasn't an animal, and how pee goes INSIDE of the toilet. Not inside his construction cement truck (boys🙄😬). I bent over, and my life flashed before my eyes. BAM. I almost collapsed to the floor. I was sweating and writhing in pain. I couldn't muster up ENOUGH inertia to walk my body forward. My knees started to buckle, and immediate panic set in. Of all times for this to happen, with my luck-- it did (cue Curb Your Enthusiasm theme song). I am damn near 30 years old, and a Swiffer wet jet mop, along with a slight twist and bend movement, put me to the fuckin' floor. Meanwhile, J-Lo who is in her 50's is pole dancing and dancing at a top performance rate for a Superbowl half-time show. And again, here I am, in the same clothes as yesterday, my body getting over a fever, AND NOW pulled my back out of place. I was angry and upset that I have disabled myself.
Of course, Grayson and the baby caught wind of my sudden lack of movement and chaos ensued. Both hanging on my feet, whining and crying and fighting each other to be held. Every second ticked by slowly, as I completely winced and cursed in pain. I huddle by the cat tree. I try to stand and lean onto it and realized..I needed help. But who could help? How?
My husband was at work. Barely 2 weeks post-op from his shoulder replacement. I broke down in tears. My husband has just now been able to shower by himself. He's still in a sling and has very limited movement. What the hell am I going to do? With different parts of our bodies being out of commission, how* could we do this? I reluctantly called him. In tears, I waited 45 minutes before he got to the house. Before he arrived, with a little help from my Grayson, I was able to dress the baby. Grayson picked his clothes out, and got ready all by himself (I was shook). I waddle slowly to my bedroom and grab some socks and my Nike's. Grayson hauled ass into my room like always (because there isba child lock and it's forbidden) kneeled down and helped me put on my socks and shoes. I told him my back was hurting and he told me, "Don't worry mom. I'll fix it!" He lifted my shirt gently, and started to scratch my lower back. The tears were welling up. He got the baby clothes from her drawer (after one attempt), and sang "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" to her as I changed her. I was overwhelmed with many emotions. I was in that moment, proud of Will and I's parenting and how my sweet and sour child, was being sweet and helpful to me.
Will arrives. He's stressed. I'm stressed. I keep apologizing over and over to him. I shove fruit snacks in my jacket. Will raises his voice at me to stop trying to put Grayson into his car seat. We are both frustrated. We are both not feeling it. I get to urgent care and wait for the doctor. He comes in after 10 minutes and says, "Oh? Are you striking a pose for a photo?" My hip is out and I'm leaning against the wall. I laughed. I explained what happened. He felt my hips and lower back. "Oh. Wow......you have HUGE knots all over the place...no wonder!" I held back tears. Then. This man turns to me and has THEE AUDACITY TO ASK ME** "Do you need a doctor's note for work?" I cracked a smile, but also wanted to strangle him right then and there. I explained my husband is two weeks post-op from shoulder replacement surgery, and that I have a 10 month old and a 3 year old at home, and all three are waiting in the car for me. He smiled and said, "I'd reccomend taking it easy, but that's not realistic is it?" He gave me a toradol shot, steroids for the inflammed muscles, muscle relaxers and T3. My anxiety sky-rocketed. I knew how Toradol made me tired. I knew how muscle relaxers obviously*** relax your muscles. T3 makes me groggy. How the fuck am I supposed to function on these AND take care of the kids?
So long gone are the days of being injured or sick and being able to sleep or "relax". So long gone are the days when no one else depended on you to be a fully functional adult during times of illness or injury.
My husband told me to go nap and relax my back. Though I was irriated by having to listen, and fight back the internal urge to pick up the toys on the ground, I obliged. Thinking back to a few months ago, my husband's sciatic caused him to be down and out from work for three days. I sat up in bed thinking of this. No offense to my husband; he works extremely hard and allows me the luxury of staying home with the kids. However, in this moment, I realized I wasn't able to experience the same "luxury" of taking three days off. Being a stay at home mom means, no days off. When youre sick, the world doesn't stop. Your toddlers certainly don't stop. So you, as the mom and house-manager, trudge through it. Because there is no other option or reason. Some are lucky to have family nearby that can cushion some of this blow. But unfortunately, that's not the case here. Instead, I facetimed my mom and cried to her, asking her to tell Grayson to be good for me. It worked (for a while).
I hate sometimes that these types of "problems" often come across as "complaining," but to me, just shows that a Mother's job never ends. We don't get to clock in, and clock out. We don't get paid lunch breaks. Often times I eat standing up, and pee with a rather curious audience (like when Grayson handed me toilet paper and told me to wipe my gina and did a horrendous digging motion with his hands). I don't get uninterrupted breaks. I don't physically see a paycheck deposited into my account.
This morning I woke up and before I got out of bed, I said a little prayer about being able to walk today. Thankfully, I can walk (at least). I made coffee, and waited for the monsters to wake up. I cooked them eggs and toast. I bribed grayson with a fruit snack to help get his sisters walker, and I slowly slowly lifted her in it. Getting her in and out of the crib has been a challenge. Babies want to be held and carried, and do not understand why* their mother isn't picking them up (torture).
I am realizing women are strong. Though I physically feel decrepid, I am appreciative of what women endure on a daily basis. Whether you work or stay home, being a mother is a 24/7 job that often goes without praise or recognition. Instead of binge watching Mad Men, or The Office (for the 56th time) posted up chillin' on meds, I am watching Paw Patrol while my kids nag and cry at my feet. "You should be THANKFUL. YOU HAVE THE BEST JOB IN THE ENTIRE WORLD....and an IMPORTANT ONE IF THAT." Well, Karen. Yes. Yes I do. I am "blessed" and "cursed" by this experience. I am** thankful. However, I am a human being. I am allowed to scowl and huff to myself, "this isn't fair!" While wanting to break down into tears. How dare I feel so selfish?
I am allowed to have bad days. Being a mom doesn't mean I am some bionic robot (though some days it definitely feels like it)
So here I am standing, slouched over the counter trying to rub a tennis ball into my lower back while my toddler screams, "THAT'S MY BAAAAAALLLLLLL MOM." All while my daughter also starts to scream (because her brother is screaming) I can't do anything but count to 10.
"Being a mom means having to choose between eating, showering, or sleeping. You can't do all three in one day" -unknown
Hug a mom, grandma or aunt today [or anyone that has raised you] and give yourself a pat on the back for being a bad ass super mom.
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izzyovercoffee · 7 years
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I'm sorry if you've already answered this, but what's the deal with Mandalorian society and sexuality? Would a larger portion of the population be of one sexuality than others? Would sexuality be the same as we know it since they don't recognize gender? etc
I’m sorry for the delay in answering this !! I haven’t actually answered / addressed this topic quite just yet, bc they’re both easy and difficult questions to answer, if that makes sense. 
So I’m gonna do the short/long again. 
The Short Answer to the three questions is this: Mandalorians don’t care about your sexuality inasmuch as, within mandalorian community and society, specifically, it’s not a big deal — or any deal, at all. And because there is no compulsive heteronormativity, and because mandalorians as a society have a heavy emphasis on adoption and sharing the burden of child rearing with the entire clan, the population’s sexuality should not skew in any specific way. 
If I had to guess, I would suggest that the society leans more bi/pan, if only because there’s no stigmatization to be tied in with a gender binary that doesn’t exist to them. Ideally, though, I would think that there would be equal representation of every combination, and every iteration, of relationship under the sun — so long as everyone involved are consenting fully-grown adults. 
The long answer is … it’s complicated.
The thing is … uniquely, as a society, mandalorians don’t recognize gender in the same way that we do. So, it’s safe to assume that sexuality is dependent entirely on each individual’s personal frame of attraction. Procreation via popping out babies (crude, I know but u kno) would not take such a strong focus or precedence or moral imperative because mandalorians don’t just accept adoption as an option — mandalorian society strictly enforces the legal equality of adoption.
That is, the negative attitudes surrounding adoption just don’t exist. And because they don’t exist, the societal pressures tied up in maintaining a blood line disappear. 
Our society’s understanding of sexuality is, in part, highly contingent on the framework of the gender binary and the nuclear family. I would even go so far as to suggest that a heavy skew towards a cis-centric heterosexual population is, at least in part, due to the homophobia inherent in a heteronormative society. And none of these things exist in mandalorian society.
Thus it’s hard to say if sexuality would still resemble sexuality as we know it, or if it would take a completely different definition or range, or if it would be somewhere in-between. After all, mandalorian society is not one that is wholly isolated, as it’s hard to be so when so many societies are interconnected by necessity and diplomatic allegiances across the known galaxy — and the rest of the Galaxy Far Far Away seems to have the machinations of sexism and homophobia still in place (whether or not you want to chalk that up to writers imposing their internalized sexism / homophobia on the material, knowingly or otherwise, is up to you). So even if these terms and way of thinking aren’t natural to mandalorians, that doesn’t necessarily mean they wouldn’t be present at all.
That said, I’m of the opinion that the general mandalorian society may actually skew in the direction of pansexual/bisexual.
Explanation going under the cut, because this got … very long.
So. Why Pansexual? Because pansexuality is generally defined as an attraction either in spite of or without consideration to gender. The distinction of gender does not actively exist in mandalorian thought (or language) and so attraction becomes something that does not actively consider gender.
Why Bisexual? Because bisexuality is defined as an attraction to same and other genders, and the logic that follows is that all mandalorians should accept all genders, aka all genders are recognized. In a society that doesn’t stigmatize any gender, everyone has their personhood recognized (heteronormativity has no place and thus little to no influence) and thus celebrated.
Either way both bisexuality and pansexuality encompasses the full field / range that would actually, actively, exist in mandalorian society.
Pan-normativity / Bi-normativity, I guess. Lmao.
I would also suggest that the nature of a population’s sexuality (and guessing at the population percentage of x sexuality) becomes difficult to discern, because it’s heavily dependent on the population and where they’re located, and how many are adoptees — and how many of those adoptees were adopted when they were children vs. already socialized adults.
How deeply has a mandalorian diaspora or ethnic enclave’s community participated in assimilation with whatever society they find themselves in? Communities that are located in, say, Coruscant under the Empire might skew towards a heterocentric human focus due to the pressures of the surrounding environment — or they might go in the complete opposite direction and raise a vibrantly rainbow one finger salute right up the Emperor’s nose. 
It’s hard to say lmao.
TBH like … I want to backtrack a little bit to talk about the nuclear family. 
So. Family is a HUGE part of what being a mandalorian is about. Raising children is being mandalorian — but we’ve seen that the children don’t always have to be “their’s” inasmuch as a parent to a child relation. They can be nieces/nephews, cousins’ cousins, even friends’ and friends’ family’s. The focus has always been on a community raising children together, rather than any conceptualization of a nuclear family.
Frankly, nuclear families have no place in mandalorian society anyway. Any society that engages war as a supposed common export would also have a high percentage of casualties — parents never coming home, parents severely injured in the line of their profession / duty, parents away for long periods of time. In the wake of absent parents, other members of the clan/community are expected to do their share and raise the children as if they are their own — and are ultimately treated and regarded as their own.
“Why are you so focused on children and child-raising when this is a question about sexuality?” Not that I think you would necessarily ask me that, but I think it’s an important question to be answered.
How we view sexuality, how we define it, how we see it expressed, how we criminalize that expression, how we victimize and marginalize people … is all tied up in other forces and expectations our society is built on. IMO, in order to understand what sexuality is to mandalorians, it bears repeating what mando society is not and does not have.
Example: I’ve noticed that people who are homophobic view homosexuality as a deviation from a perceived moral expectation — and it is a violently enforced moral compass that is hyper-focused on a “woman’s” (ciswoman’s) capacity to bear and raise children, and only devote her life to that one role.
Because mandalorian society is completely without that expectation, the foundations that would otherwise exist to enforce marginalization completely disappear. Can’t have children? Adopt, or help raise the kids in your clan. Don’t want / want to deal with children? Offer assistance to those who have / want to assist in raising children so they are free to do so more easily.
Because mandalorian society doesn’t recognize gender roles, the framework that misogyny and transphobia is built on ceases to exist and so anyone of any presentation is not someone to then be brutalized until they return to a gender binary, bc mandalorians don’t have a gender binary. 
Because mandalorian society encourages communal raising of children, the capitalistic forces contingent on the survival of the nuclear family structure cannot be found here. There is no two parent household — everyone works and lives together, or works and lives in large groups, supporting each other.
Romance, in general, is built on an assumption of the nuclear family’s goal: two people to a household to raise children, alone. Complete co-dependency between two people for all romantic and platonic emotional and interpersonal support. You don’t need friends nor family when you have someone to share your bed — but specifically someone to share a bed and produce children with.
And tbh … because mandalorians don’t HAVE an arbitrary moral system built on a foundation of misogyny, homophobia, and capitalistic ideals of a nuclear family, I wonder if monogamy is something that would be as heavily tied with morality as it is in ours — would it really be so expected? Less so? Would polyamory be more acceptable (bc let’s face it, it’s still in unacceptable territory)? Would single-parenting also be more acceptable (bc, again, single parenting is still viewed as unacceptable, as if there’s something wrong with the parent)? 
Identifying as anything not-hetero doesn’t come with a death sentence, however oblique or immediate or realized. 
What I’m saying is this: there are inherent pressures in our society that we don’t think about that affect us on a personal level, every day. Being gay, being bi, being ace, being pan, being trans, being gender nonconforming — even if we don’t actively think about it, we know on some level that our status in our society is ostracized at some level, if not every level. The subtle ways in which society treats and regards us ultimately has an effect on us — and how we perceive others, and can affect how we structure sexuality and our sexual identities.
The absence of those pressures would lead to a radically different society and social understanding of gender and sexuality. Both on a micro level, and a macro level.
And that’s really interesting, imo. These are great questions to ask — it’s a great topic to address and to try to write about and build upon — and I have no idea if any of my answer is adequate, because of how difficult it is for me to conceptualize sexuality in a society that isn’t burdened by a heterocentric gender-conforming monogamous hegemony focused on procreation. 
God I hope I answered your questions lmao. Sorry I’m so verbose !!
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