#c: medies

[dire-vulture]

omg i was thinking of making an npc otp poll but. pretty much any potential pairing just felt like i was throwing darts at the wall dfgsdf no shipping culture here at all

[mycenaae]

everybody lend me strength since [redacted] is getting a deeper plot line this season. i knew it was coming but nevertheless if they try to make me care about [redacted] i will throw a tantrum

[venomgaia]

has anyone ever gotten the kinsect models from monhun world/rise? i have yet to see them

[peaceeandcoolestvibes]

Shit is so funny LMFAOOO

En unos meses coincidiré con el psiquiatra y le expondré este caso, a ver que piensa como compañero 😂 Porque creo que es digno de estudio (si no sabéis o podéis pedir ayuda, lo debería hacer vuestro entorno. Cuando vuestro comportamiento perjudica a la gente de esta manera o alcanza estas cotas, el tema es serio. Como Kacey musgraves dijo ‘Dios mío, el dinero no proporciona inteligencia. Que estúpida!’ YAAAS KACEY). Con tantos frentes abiertos y tanta ofensa gratuita es normal que se fracase de esta manera. A gozar 🤡

Mínimo tiene:

- narcisista (este en letras mayúsculas)

- cluster b (comportamiento erratico + emociones muy inestables) (obsesión intensa por cualquier cosa)

- multiples personalidades (se cree que es 16 personas a la vez)

- psicosis/esquizo/paranoide (este último especialmente porque ve cosas que no hay allí y está corroborado con varios colegas que están en el mundo del entretenimiento)

Por el comportamiento que muestra :) y creo que estoy en lo cierto porque todo lo que hace no es NORMAL

Y hay soletes con enfermedades mentales pero saben lo que hay. Cuando te auto convences que tu comportamiento no tiene nada de malo y no entiendes que hay un comportamiento social a mantener, y que debes respetar a todo Dios pues tienes un problema. Aparte que se dedicó a perseguir y acosar a John y por eso él se alejó corriendo y lo dice abiertamente la imbécil :) para ello eso es amor y querer a alguien :)) luego decís que los hombres no reciben amenazas ni se abusa de ellos :D a ver, perras 💀😃

She has most of them:

[anonymocha]

Henlo Medpoc and Toof as “pocket sized partner”pls:]c

(This is your sign that Medy needs to be smol)

May or may not be thinking of ur recent fics as well with this one…just a little bit…

“Let me guess. A chemical spill, again?”

[ahedderick]

Outpatient

Ok, hmm, I have 3 - 5 brains cells back to work. This has been a strange day.

When I went into the surgery center, the person leading me down the hallway introduced herself; "Hi, I'm Kelly, I'll be with you the whole time you're here."

Honestly, between a lifetime of farm veterinary emergencies and the whole Childbearing Thing, I am pretty darned nonchalant about medical care. I'm not worried. But it's sweet when someone tries to make me feel 'better'. I just roll with it. It's the thought that counts.

She got me settled in a dentist's chair and started all the minutia of prep; the sticky electrodes on my arms, the blood pressure cuff, the little finger-clamp-thingee. She gave me a small cup of versed, explaining that it would calm me down. Not necessary, my learnéd friend, Kelly, but I'll take it. Gimmee.

Then we had to do the little "why are you even here" dance. Apparently, Mandibular tori are often small and not an issue. Often. Not always. When they turn into big honkin' chunks of bone that interfere with eating or hygiene, then they have to go. And every dratblasted dental person I mentioned them to always tried to tell me they're not an issue! Until they look in my actual mouth and say. OH. Uh. Yeah, that's an issue. Grrr.

Next she hooked a nasal cannula over my face for nitrous oxide. That I have never had before, that I can remember, and I was curious if it would make me giddy or giggly. It did not. My head got very quiet inside, though. I was enjoying that, but my silence made the nurses nervous, and they kept asking if I was ok. I was ok. Just suuuuper quiet. And enjoying it.

The surgeon entered the room and he and the nurses did an interesting little call-and-response routine to ensure that I am the correct patient getting the correct surgery on the correct side of the body. Then the IV medi c i n ooooooooOOOPsie - waking up time!

I have never before had so MUCH novocaine that my mouth was still numb 8 hours later. Not complaining; I'm sure I don't want to know what it feels like in there with a chunk of bone cut out. Very odd, though.

[tessarionbestgirl]

I would say that Martin post and the general bad reaction may got some investors insecure what may or may not made some of high ups put thejr feet down with Hess and Ryan.

They want a replication of Game of Thrones, a cultural phenomena that had the 2010s in a chokehold. It’s not the quality of the show that will have investors in a tizzy but more C&H’s inability to recreate those golden years of GoT where anybody and everybody was either watching the show or at least heard of it.

After Season 1 ended and HotD failed to revive interest in asoiaf, I’m sure C&H insisted focusing even more on Rhaenicent will be the show’s saving grace. Thus Emma and Olivia were put at the forefront of advertising, multiple interviews pre S2 talked about hope for Rhaenicent, writers and actors bragging about how they pushed for a Rhaenicent reunion etc. This was green lit because they told higher ups Rhaenicent’s love story is what viewers want to see, not a fantasy drama abut a civil war with dragons. So they abandoned George’s work for cheap thrills and fan service, claiming this will rejuvenate public interest in historic fantasy.

Like I said before, investors don’t care about a show’s quality as long as it’s making them money, which is why as GoT became more successful the show’s writing took a hit. Nevertheless the exact opposite happened for HotD, people took one look at these insane changes and made their aversion for it clear. I remember you saying how YouTube isn’t an echo chamber, casual viewers use that platform to voice their opinion on shows, and the dislikes for Rhaenicent’s Dragonstone clip would put Justin Beiber’s Baby to shame.

It’s still early days, but I’m fairly sure we’re not going to get another “there’s still hope for Rhaenyra and Alicent” interview from Ryan.

Yes, I think even when Game of thones it was on his peak of serialized television big names already of other conglomerates tried to recreate, unsuccessfully, the same success.

And honestly, I think there is to little novels that could even try to emulate that, not, because necessarily asoiaf is exceptional, but because of how the narrative contained so much elements that generated a variety of interests in people from different groups. Fantasy is not a genre that is love by the majority of people that consume medis, but those people liked the political subplot and mostly the pay off on Game of Thrones are always so near perfection.

Is no wonder to me that a Fire and Blood adaptation didn't turned on the fire they wanted. And their first mistake was to double down the ego of the creators. It always tells the level of narcism someone has if they think they can do better the material they are adapting. But you right at end of the day what those people care is the income.

Game of thrones vastly diverted from the source material even in early seasons but no one complained because people had faith. They don't have now specially since how much illogical and bias are the decisions towards Rhaenicest and the past failure of Game of Thones end. I don't think those investors will tolerate another blow.

[falcemartello]

-----

Traduzione: cari PoVeVy, dovete MoViVe!

[serotoninswitch]

Alrighty then, bet

If cash wasn't an issue, what's your dream porn scene you'd want to shoot with your polycule?

-medie

Blasphemy-kink demonic incursion in a convent orgy scene.

The super loose synopsis would be some witches are captured by an inquisition, unsuccessfully interrogated, one of then seduces/tricks someone into bringing them some reagents for a spell, they cast it, summon demons that corrupt and take over the inquisitor convent, then they lead everyone in a big blasphemous orgy where everyone indulges in the kinks they enjoy most. Then the head Demon pontificates about the nature of sin and stigma and how the church is actually the true monster. The end.

So ultimately, the things I'd want to spend the most money on would be A. Costuming and B. A good set. C. Transportation for "actors". Like yeah I'd probably shell out for some fun toys I don't already have, but I'd want to go hogwild on costumes, including contracting a very skilled makeup team to help the demon actors get prosthetic level monster movie makeup to look as awesome and inhuman as they want. I also have a play partner who's super discerning about her blasphemy kink, so I'd probably shell out for an authentic antique nun habit for her. And quality historically-accurate-movie level outfits for everyone who wants to be either a witch, heritic, or member of the convent/inquisition. And of course, high-quality sexy looking masks for people (like myself) who can't have their faces in porn. I actually have my eye on the mask I want irl, it just hasn't been feasible to purchase it yet.

Secondly would be the set, yes I want it to look cool and authentic but what I really want is to rent a space big enough to do a multi-day shoot/orgy/playparty/hang out with all the members of my polycule, all my play partners, and my mutuals who want to fuck me but who live too far away. At least those who are interested.

So yeah, my ideal porn shoot if I had all the funding in the world would be a thinly veiled excuse for me to indulge in my blasphemy kink, my monster fucking kink, my alignment with being a lust Demon, and an excuse to get a bunch of people I care about together for a big orgy/hangout.

And I've been gangbanged and been part of a gangbang so I know for a fact I actually enjoy this level of group play.

[tmrwdysr]

Eps 1 (Larangan Mengonsumsi Timun Saat Haid)

Larangan ini merupakan MITOS. Secara medis timun tetap aman untuk kita konsumsi saat haid. Hal itu dikarenakan kandungan air pada mentimun yang dapat mencukupi kebutuhan cairan tubuh dan mencegah dehidrasi. Makan mentimun tidak terbukti membuat darah haid tersisa di dinding rahim dan getahnya pun tidak akan sampai pada rahim. Mentimun merupakan sayuran yang kaya akan nilai gizi. Mentimun mengandung potasium, serat dan vitamin C dan secara alami rendah kalori, karbohidrat, natrium, lemak dan kolesterol. Selain itu, mentimun mengandung 95% air yang menjadikannya bagian ideal dari diet sehat. Hal ini justru membuat mentimun sangat bagus untuk mengatasi masalah kulit yang menyertai menstruasi.

[alyaalfita]

Kantong Mata Tak Hanya Masalah Penampilan! Ini Penyebab dan Solusi Tepatnya

Beberapa hal, seperti kurang tidur, penumpukan cairan, penuaan, dan gaya hidup yang tidak sehat, dapat menyebabkan kantung mata. Seiring bertambahnya usia, jaringan dan otot yang menopang kelopak mata melemah. Akibatnya, lemak berpindah ke area bawah mata dan membentuk kantong. Kurang tidur juga menyebabkan pembuluh darah di bawah mata melebar, yang membuat kantung mata dan lingkaran hitam terlihat lebih jelas.

Ada beberapa metode alami yang dapat digunakan untuk menghilangkan kantung mata. Salah satunya adalah kompres dingin, yang dapat membantu mengurangi pembengkakan. Anda bisa menggunakan kain basah yang dingin atau bahan alami seperti kantong teh dingin dan irisan mentimun, yang memiliki antioksidan untuk mengurangi peradangan.

Beberapa makanan yang mengandung banyak kalium, seperti kacang-kacangan, pisang, yogurt, dan sayuran hijau, juga dapat membantu mengurangi bengkak di bawah mata. Selain itu, tidur dengan kepala yang lebih tinggi dapat membantu mengurangi penumpukan cairan di sekitar mata.

Penggunaan pelembab dan krim mata secara teratur dapat membantu mengurangi lingkaran hitam dan mata panda, meskipun Anda tidak langsung melihat hasilnya. Pilih pelembap atau krim mata yang mengandung kafein, retinol atau retinoid, vitamin C, kamomil, dan antioksidan.

Jika kantung mata disebabkan oleh alergi atau iritasi, menghindari pemicu alergi dan menggunakan obat anti alergi dapat membantu mengurangi munculnya kantung mata. Selain itu, menjaga pola hidup sehat dengan tidur cukup, minum cukup air, dan mengurangi konsumsi garam.

Jika metode alami ini tidak cukup, ada beberapa prosedur medis seperti penggunaan filler atau blepharoplasty (operasi kelopak mata) yang dapat menjadi solusi untuk menghilangkan kantung mata, terutama yang disebabkan oleh faktor genetik atau penuaan.

[handspunyarns]

You Were Marked: Days Sixteen to Nineteen, Part I

pairing: din djarin x fem!O/C   

word count: 4.4K  

chapter summary: Fennec feels worn out, Din feels hungover, and Marathel doesn’t know how to feel 

warnings:  fluff, angst, mention of blood and injury, rape aftermath, English and Mando’a cursing   

***Please feel free to comment, kvetch, or otherwise speak your mind about my work. ***     

You Were Marked: Masterlist   

<- You Were Marked: Previous Chapter 

Fennec was very, very tired.  She hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since meeting this Marathel woman, who currently lay tranquilized on the cot before her.  Marathel, who tried so hard to make herself as unobtrusive as possible, had instead sent the palace into an uproar.  The silver-haired woman collected champions everywhere she went.  Silnima was ready to adopt her as well as make her chief baker, if Marathel wished.  Din Djarin was obviously completely in the most stupid variety of love with her, and right behind the Mandalorian, Cobb Vanth was hurriedly catching up in the adoration race.  Boba had admitted to her that even he found her charming, and he was ready to jump into any fray to protect her, like an old mobster uncle would protect his favorite niece.   

It might have been more amusing if Marathel was actually manipulative.  Marathel was not.  She was in fact so simple she was straight.  She had no guile, no artifice whatsoever.  Cobb had mentioned to Fennec that he thought of her as a full-grown child who had dropped from the sky, an apt description if there ever was one.  Everything was black and white in Marathel’s world.  She had a child’s sensibility, a child’s gullibility, almost to the point where Fennec wondered if the woman even had object permanence. 

Fennec had just witnessed another emotional breakdown from Marathel, the reasons for which were still unknown to Fennec.  Marathel had been lying quietly, appearing to be deep in thought, before she suddenly began to weep, and had become hysterical enough to require intervention from the medi-droid.  Obviously — at least to Fennec — it was all somehow the Mandalorian’s fault.  The fact that Din had both cleared the room and turned the lights off led Fennec to believe that he had: one, removed his helmet, and two, most likely kissed her, and three, probably told her he loved her.  Both apparently had trouble with complex emotions, but at least Din should know better than to run in, declare his love like a soldier heading off to war, and run out as if a Hoth blizzard were approaching.  At least give the woman a chance to reply, thought Fennec.  After Din had left — having given her a handful of the Aurodium coins — Fennec had turned the lights back on in the med-bay to see a flushed and bewildered Marathel, sitting up on her elbow, her hand to her mouth, and tears in her eyes as the sounds of Grogu screaming “MAMA!” reverberated through the ship.   

Then the ship began take-off, which shifted Marathel from bewilderment to panic until the ship ceased quaking and began to fly smoothly.  Marathel had then commented that the persistent engine noise was somehow soothing to her, and she began to relax enough to rest.   

It was shortly after this that Marathel’s latest crying jag occurred, and Fennec was nearly out of patience.  After Marathel was tranquilized, Fennec left the med-bay in search of the Modifier, who was in the cockpit with the pilot.  The pilot looked like the average mercenary: faceless, nameless, and uninterested in the cargo. 

“Is the commotion all over?” asked the Modifier. 

“It’s never over with that woman,” mumbled Fennec.   

“Something new offended her delicate sensibilities?” Fennec sighed, and reminded herself that Marathel was doing her level best to cope.  Then the Modifier asked, “Did the Mandalorian provide payment?”  Fennec flicked her eyes to the back of the pilot’s head.  The Modifier nodded.  Some things were never discussed in front of a mercenary, regardless of how inconspicuous they were. 

Din awoke in Marathel’s bed alone, curled up on his side, his mouth feeling as if he’d chewed on a Jawa all night.  His nose was stuffed up, his neck was sore, and although his visor kept out the blinding light of the two suns, his eye sockets were throbbing with the dehydration headache.  He felt around him, looking for Grogu, for Cobb, or even the Jawa he believed he was chewing on.  But he was alone, and the door to Marathel’s room was shut tight.   Din scooted over to the edge of the bed to peer at the side table, which held a large, beautiful pitcher of glorious looking water, several hydration powder packets, and a glass. 

Silently thanking Silnima, Cobb, Frith, whomever had left him this morning-after gift, Din drank the entire pitcher along with all the hydration powder, took a runner-beast-sized piss, and had a quick hot shower to cook out the remainder of the booze from his pores.   

Feeling human again, he straightened up Marathel’s bed, smoothing the sheet over her pillow.  He sat in her padded chair to pull on his boots when he noticed items on her large treatment table that had not been there yesterday: a large, waxed bag that looked as if it contained sweets, three large hanks of yarn, a big ball of near-white fluffy wool, knitting needles, and two jars of dark honey.  Set off to one side of these items was a new pair of shoes.  The shoes were an ankle-high slip-on style in a deep grey leather, flat-heeled, simple, and very appropriate for someone like Marathel.  There was a tiny scuff on the outside of one of the shoes, a few grains of sand on the inside of the other.  Din had a fleeting desire to smell the inside of her shoe.  That’s weird, right?  Yeah, that’s just weird.  I’m still drunk.  Din stood, making sure his bandolier was properly buckled, and his blasters were properly positioned on his hips.  He lifted his helmet and held it above his head to put it on when his eyes fell on Marathel’s shoes again.  He dropped his helmet into one arm, grabbed Marathel’s left shoe and took a deep whiff.   

Well, that was disappointing.  All he could smell was new leather.  With a laugh, Din put down her shoe, wondering if he would have preferred her feet to smell badly or not. He put on his helmet and opened the door.  Cobb was leaning against the opposite wall, drinking from a mug of caf. 

“How are you feeling, friend?” asked Cobb. 

“Better now.  Thank you for the water.” 

“That wasn’t me,” said Cobb with a shrug.   “I just supplied the hydration packets.” 

Din looked up and down the corridor.  “Where’s Grogu?” 

“With the other palace kids.” 

“How did he seem?” 

Cobb shrugged again.  “Subdued.”  He smiled wryly.  “He ended up between us, and we had positioned ourselves like a little fort around him.  Our arms made the roof.”  He raised his eyes to Din’s visor.  “It was quite nice. It felt good.  Made me a … little jealous of Marathel.”  Cobb went silent for a few moments, and then he took a drink from his caf.  “Look, I gotta head back to Freetown.  I trust the new deputy only so far, and I really have no reason to hang around if I can’t get my arm worked on.” 

Din remained silent.  Both men stood still for a while before Din reached out to take Cobb’s arm.  Pulling himself close to Cobb, Din whispered, “You’d leave me?” 

Cobb’s eyes went wide, but after a moment’s thought, he squinted his eyes and said, “You’re pullin’ my chain.” 

“Mostly,” said Din.  “I need to go find buyers for the Aurodium, and I need a distraction for Grogu.”  Din’s hand went to Cobb’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze.  “Come with us.” 

“Uh … no.  I’m not stepping off this planet.  Jumping around the vacuum of space in a tiny metal box is my personal vision of hell.  Not even you can change my mind.”  Cobb lifted Din’s hand from his shoulder and held it.  “But give me updates on Marathel.  And … consider her staying here for a while when she’s better.”  Closer to me.  “The palace is a controlled environment for her.  Out there … I think it’s hard for her to feel safe.” Cobb dropped Din’s hand.  “She was scared of a Trandoshan she saw in Mos Espa.” 

“She should at least be cautious.  They’re assholes.”  Din nodded.  “You’re right, though.  Here at the palace Marathel would have only a limited number of people to contend with.  She’d be safe, even if I’m not here.  And Silnima can help her have a purpose.  Marathel is not one to be idle.” 

Cobb grinned. “And she now knows where to buy yarn.” 

Under the helmet Din was smiling too.  “Thanks to you.”  He leaned forward and hugged Cobb, hard.   

Cobb squeezed back, and in Din’s ear, he whispered, “Love her.”  Din drew back.  “What?” 

Din shook his head.  “That’s what … the Dahl told me.  Rodanthe.  I figured … I imagined it.  That she’d growled and my brain turned it into words.  But she hadn’t made a sound.” 

Cobb tilted his head.  “That was something you mentioned last night.” 

“I did?”  Din reached under his cuirass and scratched the bite mark; it was suddenly itchy. “I guess it wasn’t a dream after all.” 

“You don’t think it’s strange?”  asked Cobb.  “That this —Rodanthe critter ‘talks’ to you and then the next day Marathel can seemingly control you?” 

Din scoffed.  “The whole damn thing is strange.  A woman can bond with an animal on a biological – chemical – neurological manner to the point where she allegedly loses physical control and goes into a heat cycle?  And drags me into it as well?”  Din looked up and down the hall.  Seeing no one, Din leaned in towards Cobb.  “She could barely look at me at first, and the next thing I know, she’s wrapping her legs around me and climbing me like a damn tree.” 

“And I’m sure you fought that little wildcat as long as you could,” Cobb said with a smirk, but then he sobered.  “You can’t think she’s been manipulating you.” 

“I know she’s not telling me everything.”  Din scratched the bite wound again.  “I know she’s lied to me.  I probably … shouldn’t have told her I love her yesterday.” 

Cobb rolled his eyes.  “Someone’s got morning-after guilt,” he said with a sigh.  “Look.  You need to fence those coins.  She needs to get better.  Then you two must seriously talk.  And I recommend not starting with, ‘Marry me’. Or whatever it is you Mandalorians do.” 

“Oh? What should I start with?” 

“I suggest you tell her about the land mine to your sack.  That should give you two a lot to talk about.” Cobb shifted sideways. “We should both get going, you know.”  The two men clasped each other’s hands, and Cobb began to walk towards the landing tunnel, whistling.  After about 5 meters or so, Cobb turned and said, “Man, you didn’t even tell me about the land mine.  That’s classic.”  Din shot him the finger, and Cobb walked off, laughing. 

After Cobb had left, Din heard the pounding of feet and happy shrieks of children coming from the opposite direction.  He turned, and a whole passel of kids were running full tilt straight for him; one of the taller girls was carrying Grogu on her shoulders.  Upon seeing Din, Grogu squealed and leapt from the girl’s shoulders to Din’s arms, doing a forward flip in mid-air.  The other children cheered; the noise went right through Din’s helmet and exploded somewhere behind his hung-over eyeballs.  One of the boys yelled, “Let’s get something to eat!”, leading the other kids to run to the kitchen.   

Grogu bounced on Din’s arm, chanting, “Mama? Mama?  Mama?” while slapping Din’s cuirass with his little hand.   

Din took hold of Grogu’s hand, shaking his head.  “We haven’t heard anything yet, little guy.” 

Grogu scowled and jerked his hand away.  “MAMA!”  

“I want to know how she is just as much as you do, buddy, but … Mama needs to go far away for a little while.  She needs special doctors who can help her.  Special … secret doctors.” 

Grogu grunted, his face in a deep frown.  “See-kit.” 

“See-kit, that’s right,” said Din, a flush of pride going through him at Grogu saying another word.  That’s my boy.  Din held Grogu close, pressing his helmet to the little green fuzzy head.  “What say we go fly while we wait?” 

“Fy!” 

“Wizard.  Let’s go.” 

Fennec got a message from the medi-droid that Marathel was waking up.  She got into the room just in time to see Marathel roll to her side, rubbing her eyes.  Fennec sat back down on the stool next to the cot.  “Doing better?”  Marathel still looked distressed, but she nodded.  “Can you tell me what upset you so much?” 

Marathel swallowed and closed her eyes.  “He lied to me.  The Bounty Hunter.” 

We’re back to calling him Bounty Hunter.  Dank ferrik.  “What did he lie to you about?” 

“The Bounty Hunter still had the coins.  He was … he was supposed to give them to his covert, but he still had them!” 

Fennec sighed inwardly.  “He gave me some of the coins to pay for your treatment, wherever it is we’re going.” 

“But he’s not supposed to still have them!  Why would he lie to me about what he was going to do? “ 

Maker, save me.  “Marathel … please consider that there is a perfectly logical explanation.” 

Marathel sniffled.  “Like what?” 

“Perhaps the covert wouldn’t accept them.  Those coins are … very old, and they don’t exactly work as money anymore.  Perhaps Din needs to find a buyer for the coins so he can exchange them for usable money.” 

“Then why give them to you?” 

“Well, it’s not as if we had a lot of time to figure things out.  We needed cash in hand for whomever these Reconstructionists are.  Now, please, Marathel, please try to stay calm. Try to not worry about every damn thing so much!” 

Marathel colored and looked away.  “I’m sorry,” she said, barely above a whisper.   

“Don’t be sorry.  Be calm. Be quiet, and we will all get through this,” hissed Fennec, near the end of her own rope.  

Marathel took a shaky breath.  “Yes, Fennec,” she said in such a conciliatory tone Fennec felt bad for snapping at her.  Fennec dropped her face into her hands for a while, upset herself.  Now she had these damned coins to deal with.  Either this Bishop was completely daft, or the men on that planet had no clue what those coins were worth.  When Boba had first shown them to her, Fennec insisted they first count them, just so she could feel the gold in her hands, and then they spread out the coins on the bed and … well, rolled around on them a while.  They had quite a time locating all the coins after that. 

Fennec still had no idea where they were going — the Modifier was being very tight-lipped about that — but she needed something to go on in case she needed to find buyers for the coins herself, and she was already nervous about this whole escapade going sideways. 

Fennec looked up at Marathel, who had been quiet for some time now.  Marathel’s face was as blank as fresh quarried slate.  Her eyes were unfocused, and her breathing was slow, her head slightly tilted to one side, her lips slightly parted. The slack look on her face put Fennec in the mind of someone who was mentally challenged, or in a fugue state.  Fennec shook Marathel’s arm.  “Marathel? Are you all right?” 

 Marathel’s pupils constricted, and she blinked.  “I’m fine, I’m fine, I was just … being still.” 

“That’s what you mean by be still?  You just… check out and go into a near-trance?” 

“Yes, it … it quiets the mind when they… make you do things to them.” 

“Make you do things to whom, Marathel?” 

Marathel took a shaky breath.  “The Elders … the Bishop, of course.” 

Fennec felt uneasy.  “Even before you left the Hold?” 

“Ever since I can remember,” said Marathel, matter-of-factly.  Fennec nodded.  She thought so, but it was still painful for her to have it confirmed.  No wonder Marathel was so wounded.  The poor woman’s never had a damn chance.  Fennec was wracked with guilt for her unkind thoughts about the silver-haired woman.  “Fennec?  Don’t pity me.” 

Fennec nodded again, and angrily swiped her knuckles under her eyes. “I should check your wounds.” 

“Fennec ...” said Marathel, reaching for her hand.  “My wounds are not getting worse, nor will they get better with anything you can do.  Just … sit with me, please.”  Fennec held Marathel’s hand, and in her eyes, Fennec could only see a kind of … sad tranquility that spoke of defeat. “Tell me again what I’m to say if they question me.” 

“You’re to say that you managed to escape from a Red Room; that you don’t know where you are, or how you got there.” 

“Yes, a Red Room.  I couldn’t remember.  I was thinking Dark Room.  What is a Red Room?” 

“I don’t think you need to know that, Marathel.” 

“I think I should know … I should know about what lies I need to tell.” 

Fennec sighed.  “A Red Room is where … people pay to watch and/or participate in the torture and killing of … another person.” 

Marathel furrowed her brow.  “Why in the name of Frith do things like that exist?” 

“It’s a sick, sad, galaxy.  I’d like to say it’s gotten better recently, but … not really.” 

“Is a Red Room always red?  Or is it named … because of the blood spilled there?”  Marathel sighed.  “I suppose that doesn’t matter.”  She closed her eyes for a moment.  “I miss my little hut.  Life was so simple there.  Make bread, set traps for food.  Weave if I wanted, pick flowers if I wanted, do flat-out nothing if I wanted.  Even when … Din and Grogu showed up, it was still such a lovely uncomplicated life.  Made them meals, sewed their clothes.  Made them bread.  I made more bread for those two in that short time than I would ever make for myself in three moon cycles, those greedy guts.”  Both women chuckled.  “And I got to pretend I had my own family.  We had fun, the three of us.  I even got to hear Din laugh.” 

Fennec pulled a face.  “I don’t believe that man knows how to laugh.” 

“He did!  He laughed at me; that’s why I had to throw eggs at him.”  Marathel launched into the story of the morning she wore her yellow dress and ended up in a tree because she had the temerity to scold a Jedi toddler.  By the time Marathel was demonstrating where Din’s hands had ended up on her breasts as she dropped down from the lowest branch, Fennec was near howling with laughter.  “So, I chucked an egg right at his helmet.  Splat!” 

“Oh, kriffing hell!  Then what?” 

“He said that I should be a … oh, what did he say … a storm …?” 

“A Stormtrooper?” 

“Yes!  What is that?” 

“A soldier of the most useless variety.” 

Marathel frowned.  “Should I have been insulted by that?” 

“Absolutely you should have.” 

Marathel giggled.  “Good thing I hit him with another egg and told him to piss up a rope.”  Fennec laughed.   “I stomped all the way back to my hut; I was that angry.  Later, Grogu brought me flowers, and Din brought me my favorite fruit to apologize.  No man had ever given me a gift before.”  Marathel smiled.  “The next day, Din made me breakfast.  The man made a meal for me.  Never had I considered a man would do such a thing.  We weren’t allowed to eat what we made for the men, not even the scraps from their plates.  But Din cooked for me.” 

Fennec smiled as well.  And we’re back to calling him Din.  “Men can be different when they’re from other places.” 

Marathel was silent for a while.  “I didn’t even know that there were other places until Din told me.  I didn’t believe him.  How was I supposed to understand that a tiny point of light in the sky was another big place like the one I lived on?” 

“Well, not all those points of light are planets.  There are also stars.” 

“He said that too, but I don’t know what a star is.  I don’t understand half of everything he said to me.  He probably thought I was quite dumb, which is true … I don’t know much.”  Marathel sighed.  “When he asked me to come with him, it terrified me, because I knew I would only be a burden to him.” 

“Din asked you to leave your planet with him?” 

“Yes … we had been digging clams, even though clams make him sick, but he didn’t tell me that.  I was dancing in the water with Grogu, and Din put his arm around me, held me close …  and said I should go with him and leave the Aurodium behind.” 

My, my. “But you said no.” 

“What else in Frith was I supposed to say?  I was already ruined, I’m … nothing.  I’m plain, fat, and stupid.  Sullied.  Filth.”  Marathel sobbed, tears running down her face.  She rolled over to her side and curled up in despair.  “And I knew I was going to finally die — just sooner than later — but I also knew if I could help him in some way, then … my life could have meant something to someone.  Even just for a few days, to a frightening man made of metal and his little green boy.  I love Grogu so much, Fennec.  And he’s calling me Mama.  He shouldn’t be doing that.  Not someone like me.” Marathel was weeping again, to her dismay.  She was so tired of weeping but could not stop any more than she could stop her slow loss of blood.  Fennec held Marathel’s hand and said nothing.  She had heard things like Marathel spoke of before, and no number of words to the contrary would change Marathel’s mind in her current state.  Not all fears or hurts or ugly thinking could be slayed with logic.  

After some time, when Marathel’s current storm seemed to have passed, Fennec asked, “So, what did Din say to you when he came in here?” 

Marathel sniffled and scrubbed her nose with her hand.  “Well, he turned off the lights, and then I felt something heavy drop on my lap.  It wasn’t until he was kissing me that I realized it was his helmet.” 

Fennec gave a small smile.  “So, he did kiss you.” 

Marathel’s cheeks flushed.  “Did you know how heavy those helmets are?  I thought he tossed a rock on me.” 

Fennec rolled her eyes with a chuckle.  “So, he did kiss you.” 

Marathel shyly dropped her gaze.  “Yes.” 

“And what did he say?” 

“He said …” Marathel took a breath.  “He said, ‘I love you, Marathel, ma’mwsh ha’laa, nothing else matters.’” 

“And what does ma’mwsh ha’laa mean again?” 

“‘Wounded acorn.’” 

Fennec chuckled again.  “That’s so adorable it’s almost sickening.  What was the kiss like?” 

Marathel frowned.  “Hard.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Hard.  He pressed his mouth very hard to mine.”  Marathel put her fingers to her own lips; they were almost tingling with the memory.  “But I could tell he had a mustache.  And I touched his cheek; he had facial hair, and his skin was soft.  He had told me his eyes were brown, and I saw his brown hair once, briefly … he was throwing up the clams in the tall grass, and I could just see the top of his head.” 

Fennec wasn’t about to tell her she had gotten a glimpse of him without his helmet; it probably would upset her, and Din wasn’t looking his particular best at the time, what with the concussion and the blood everywhere. “Din doesn’t sound like he’s very good at kissing.” 

“I wouldn’t know.  Kissing is only for Diwhyns and babies where I’m from.”  Marathel glanced sideways at Fennec.  “I suppose Boba is a good kisser?” 

Fennec’s head snapped up.  “Excuse me?” 

Marathel squeezed Fennec’s hand.  “Boba Fett is good to you, isn’t he?” 

It was Fennec’s turn to blush.  “I didn’t think we were that obvious.” 

“Well, I noticed.  And if I noticed, I’m sure Cobb did too.”  Fennec groaned.  “And Silnima knows too, but I don’t think anything gets past that woman.” 

“And that’s why she’s such a good Headwoman.   She would love it if you’d stay at the palace once you’re well.  She has designs on you being her chief baker.”  

Marathel curled her lip.  “I don’t know if I want to be a kitchen drudge for the rest of my life.” 

“No one’s talking about forever, just for right now, for kriff’s sake.” Fennec sighed.  “So how do you feel about Din?  Do you share his feelings?” 

Marathel thought for a while before answering.  “I told him that I loved him before I went into the Hold; at least, as much as I knew how to love anyone.  I know that I’m grateful for him, grateful that he took me away from there.  But … it’s … it’s his Creed I’m having trouble with.” 

Fennec frowned.  “What do you mean?” 

“The day before he took me to the Hold, I asked him if he would take off his helmet, that he could have me if he wished,” — Fennec frowned at this — “but … without the helmet, so that I would have his face as a last memory.  He said no, of course.  He told me that his affection for me was less than his devotion to his Creed.  And I suppose I understood that, but then … he asked if I would sleep next to him, so he could hold me, caress me while he slept.  Fondle me.  As if I were only a toy.  Not a person.  Certainly not an equal.”  Marathel sighed.  “Perhaps he does love me, but … I’m afraid I will always be in the shadow of his Creed.  That shadow may be too cold for me to bear.” 

“Well, Marathel, that’s certainly a valid thing for you to feel.”  Fennec patted her arm.  “It seems like you two have much to discuss.” 

“I wouldn’t know how to even begin.” 

“The truth is usually the best place to start.  But … for now I suggest you concentrate on what’s coming up with these Reconstructionists.  Okay?”  Marathel nodded, then sat up enough to hug Fennec hard.  Fennec hugged her back.  “It’s going to be okay, Marathel.” 

“I hope so.”  And she did. 

You Were Marked: Next Chapter->

[i-will-just-nyom-bi]

Val : So... Vox, was it? How did you achieve being an Overlord in such a short time?

Vox : By selling TV services and Social Medi-

Val : And?? You gotta get souls to be an OverLord!

Vox : Ah. Terms and Conditions.

Val : What?

Vox : You heard me. I put the soul contact in them and I believe half of my "underlings" still don't know that I've got their souls.

Val : (remembers how he signed into some social media like Tinder) c-cool-

Vox : Honestly there's also a downside to this: I don't know them either. Maybe I have the Princess of Hell in my grasp, or some old lady. So I've got the least amount of influence out of us. But I may be the strongest.

Vel : Shit I need to use that trick...

Vox : COPYRIGHT BITCH

[only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are]

Day 13: Surgery - Medi Whumpy May

Medi Whump May Masterlist

Just a little.. bit... further...' Hero told themselves, clutching their side and drawing in another painful, wheezing breath.

The world was spinning in front of them and their vision was starting to become obscured with small dots.

They could barely see the doors of their base, and had to slam their palms against the doors to keep themselves upright.

"Hey!" They gasped. "Help!"

They blinked, and found themselves on the floor as the sounds of footsteps came rushing towards them.

"Hero, you're injured!"

"Hero, is that you?!"

"Quick, get me a gurney. They're hurt!"

The noise was overwhelming, but a familiar face swam in front of theirs.

"M-medic?"

"Yeah, it's me. We're going to take care of you, okay? Can you tell me what's wrong, where are you hurt?" Medic asked, instantly checking over Hero's body.

"My chest.. can't.. breathe.." Hero panted.

A gurney was pushed up against the wall, and Medic and the rest of the team began to lift Hero onto it. Hero cried out at the movement, tears springing to their eyes.

"It's okay, Hero. You've got a punctured lung, but I can fix it, alright?" Medic said above them as they wheeled the gurney inside the base, heading straight towards the med bay.

The team members helped get Hero to the bay and into the surgical suite, where Medic's assistants took over. They placed Hero on the operating table and began cutting the clothing away from the wound.

Hero whimpered as the open wound was revealed, their chest looking depressed on that side. "That's bad, right?" They whispered.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Hero. It's bad. Lie back for me, okay?" Medic said.

The team of assitants bustled around the operating table. One inserted an IV into Hero's arm, and other handed Medic a mask.

"I need you to breathe this in for me. I'm going to put you to sleep so I can operate. When you wake up, you'll feel a lot better." Medic said.

Hero shook their head and tried to move away, despite the pain burning through their chest. "Don't! Please, don't, I c-"

Medic clapped the mask over Hero's face and held it there, even as Hero thrashed in their grasp.

"Shh.. It's going to be alright, Hero. Just go to sleep." Medic whispered, in a desperate attempt to soothe their patient.

Hero's movements became sluggish, their attempts to free themselves abandoned as their limbs hung limply at their side, and their eyes drifted closed.

When Hero came back to consciousness, they were lying on their back, propped up on pillows in a bed in Med Bay.

They panicked momentarily, seeing the tube coming out of the wound in their side.

"Hey, hey." Medic said. "Leave the chest tube alone, I worked hard to get that in you." They scolded.

Hero sighed. They felt no pain as they used their lungs, which was likely due to the medication running through the IV port in their hand. "Medic.. what- what happened?"

"What happened is you got yourself impaled on something, and then showed up to Base half dead in the doorway." Medic retorted, arms crossed over their chest. "

"I'm sorry." Hero replied softly.

You get your ass back to sleep now. You took a fair beating, and I know the chest tube isn't pleasant to see." Medic's voice was more gentle now. "We'll talk more about this when you feel better."

With that, Hero fell back into a semi-drug induced, uneasy sleep.

@mediwhumpmay

[unfug-bilder]

Wer hatte behauptet, Multi-Kulti habe keinen Nutzen?

(C) medi-learn

[en8y]

kimeditive - (from ki(nd), medi(c), and suppor(tive)) [key-mehd-ih-tive]

an umbrella term for identities centered around healing, taking care of people, beings, creatures, and animals, wanting to be a supportive energy to others, fixing and mending whatever needs to be, gentleness and kindness, and shades of deep and light blue. can be connected to the umbrella term wisteric, but isn't inherently related to it. coined with the healing coven from the owl house in mind, but isn't connected to it inherently.

meditinity - equivalent of masculinity/femininity meditinine - equivalent of masculine/feminine kimed - a kimeditive person KIMEDiN - kimedtive-in-nature meditic - gender alignment mederian - (kimeditive4kimeditive, kimedLkimed) a kimeditive person being attracted to another kimeditive person. (from mederi; latin for "heal") transimeditive - transitioning into meditinity medind - a meditic gender

@radiomogai @neopronouns @imawanokiwaaa @revenant-coining