#cw-trauma
[/-∊n♱rΩpy gr-∊yƗng Ωu♱./] -- my pr-∊vƗΩuΣ ⴵȺndl-∊, 屮ⴵƗ☪︎ⴵ 屮ȺΣ Ωn☪︎-∊ 屮ȺΣ Ɨmp-∊rƗȺlƗΣ♱ⴵȺl☪︎yΩnƗ♱-∊, 屮ȺΣ mȺd-∊ durƗng my yΩung-∊r dȺyΣ Ωu♱ Ωf ♱ⴵ-∊ fruΣ♱rȺ♱ƗΩn Ωf my lƗf-∊, Ωf ⴵΩ屮 Ɨ dr-∊Ⱥm-∊d ♱Ω lƗv-∊ ♱ⴵ-∊ lƗf-∊ ♱ⴵȺ♱ Ɨ ΣⴵΩuld'v-∊ ⴵȺd, ♱ⴵȺ♱ Ωf luxury, p-∊Ⱥ☪︎-∊ Ⱥnd ⴵΩ屮 Σu☪︎ⴵ 屮ȺΣ Ωu♱ Ωf r-∊Ⱥ☪︎ⴵ, ⴵȺvƗng b-∊-∊n r-∊plȺ☪︎-∊d 屮Ɨ♱ⴵ 屮Ⱥr, #☪︎屮-♱rȺumȺ Ⱥnd nƗgⴵ -∊ndl-∊ΣΣ #vƗΩl-∊n☪︎-∊. ♱ⴵ-∊ n-∊屮 ⴵȺndl-∊ Ɨ ♱ΩΩ|⟨ Ωn 屮ⴵ-∊n Ɨ ⴵȺd Ⱥ♱♱ȺƗn-∊d ♱ⴵƗΣ n-∊屮fȺngl-∊d Σ♱Ⱥ♱uΣ Ωf -∊xƗΣ♱Ⱥn☪︎-∊, -∊mpyr-∊ȺnΣȺpΩ♱ⴵ-∊ΩΣƗΣ, -∊mpyr-∊ȺnΣ 屮-∊r-∊ Ⱥ ♱-∊rm uΣ-∊d ♱Ω d-∊Σ☪︎rƗb-∊ ♱ⴵȺ♱ Ωf d-∊mƗ-gΩdΣ ♱ⴵȺ♱ 屮-∊r-∊ Ⱥbl-∊ ♱Ω ȺΣ☪︎-∊nd ♱Ω full-gΩdⴵΩΩd, Ɨ♱Σ ...Read more
[/-∊n♱rΩpy gr-∊yƗng Ωu♱./] -- Ωu♱ Ωf Ⱥll ☪︎ΩmpȺrƗΣΩnΣ ♱ⴵȺ♱ ☪︎Ωuld'v-∊ b-∊-∊n mȺd-∊ ♱Ω Σburb plȺy-∊rΣ ♱ⴵȺ♱ ☪︎Ⱥm-∊ Ωu♱ Ω|⟨Ⱥy 屮ⴵy 屮ȺΣ Ɨ ☪︎ⴵΩΣ-∊N? Ɨ ☪︎ȺM-∊ ΩU♱ ♱ⴵ-∊ ΩPPΩΣƗ♱-∊ ΩF Ω|⟨ȺY ȺND Ɨ Σ♱ƗLL ȺR-∊N'♱ Ω|⟨ȺY! YΩU DΩN'♱ JUΣ♱ ☪︎ΩM-∊ BȺ☪︎|⟨ ȺF♱-∊R ȺƗRƗNG ΩU♱ /-∊V-∊RY LƗ♱♱L-∊ ♱RȺUMȺ/ ♱ⴵȺ♱ 屮ȺΣ VƗΣƗBL-∊ ΩN ♱ⴵ-∊ DȺΣⴵ ƗN Ⱥ GΩΩD M-∊N♱ȺL Σ♱Ⱥ♱-∊. #☪︎屮-♱rȺumȺ -- [/ΣȺmΣȺrȺ'Σ Σ屮ȺnΣΩng./]
︻デ═一 h0w 15 0ne meant t0 kn0w 1f they went thr0ugh 5evere and repeated trauma a5 a grub 1 hardly remember 5h1t #cw-trauma
︻デ═一 50rry f0r be1ng h0rny all the t1me my lu5u5 k1nda neglected me #d0ntp1tyme #cw-trauma #vent
Prey. Passive. Pliant.
Apparently, an alternative me, as a large portion, gave birth to a daughter. Will I look at her in scorn? Bring her into a life with no frailty? Neglect her in order to make her fend for herself? I don't have a womb. I have a dead patch of grass there instead. I can't even bear ticks, no soul. No love. Motherhood ends with me.
I arrived in a dress. It was the first time in a very long time that I had worn one. The last time was my Sieteñera. I still remember Dillodad coming up from his resting hole to celebrate. I was a measly seven sweeps old then. That was the last time I wore a dress. So, really, it was about time I put one on again. It made me feel young. Beautiful, even. Or close enough to beautiful that I could pretend without feeling too foolish. I was there to see her. See, I was something of an underground sort by then. Officially speaking, I had been shuffled out of the game of life by the Empress’s ...Read more
The Chronicle of the Heir, Part I. "How The Heir came to be." The Chronicle begins itself within the confines of caverns, in which that of an heir is born, a male heir in an empire most matriarchal with every other being that of an heiress, this empire is large and vast and inherently oppressive within its nature, separated by that in different castes. The heir is considered something of an anomaly, for it was the first male amongst its caste. The caretakers of this heir to be are left at a crossroads at its discovery after having felled its foster bull-shark, looking over it, the young heir snuggl...Read more