New Ager Gigi Young claims that later in humanity's evolution, we'll reproduce via the throat chakra rather than the "lower chakras."
Sorry ma'am, are you implying that... in the future, humanity's gonna be gagging their offspring out through the mouth? I don't... I don't know if that's what I'd call an improvement...
(Source: Audience Questions (The Spiritual Hierarchies, Fallen Angels & the Shifting of Form & Density), youtube.com)
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My boyfriend wants kids.
I do not.
Four months into the relationship
He paints a picture of cherubs bouncing on his knees, a mom-and-dad-and-baby in a big house
I see an operating room, masks and scrubs swirling through a blood tinted fog
Painkillers, but not quite enough to numb
Because no really, she’s just being dramatic
He dreams of a warm bundle of joy swaddled in innocence
I think of stitches that will be placed against my consent, of thread used to ensure
My innocence is maintained
My tightness is maintained
My husband’s pleasure is maintained while he’s inside me
He fantasizes about blood (mine has already been spilt so many times), about passing on a legacy
I think of the wounds my mother inflicted on me, and her mother inflicted on her
(Where does it end?
I know I can be better
But will it be enough?)
Yes there’s daycare yes there’s epidurals yes there’s antidepressants yes there’s pumps yes I’m sure you’ll be a great dad but
I think of all the people who have come before me.
People who gave up everything
People who were expected to give up everything
(I am just a mother I am just a mother I am just a mother I am just a mother I am just a mother please god let me be more than just a mother)
~ i am twenty years old and still just a vessel for him to use
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I don’t understand when people say “childbirth is beautiful”
It’s literally so painful that it almost always involves screaming in agony, and If you want pain relief they have to stick a needle in your fucking spine. It’s pretty common for the mother to poop during delivery because of all the pushing, and you can rip open your vagina badly enough to need stitches; not to mention the risk of receiving ‘the husband stitch’ from the doctor sewing you up. Lastly, the baby comes out looking like a chewed up wad of bubblegum or an alien and it’s covered in weird slimy stuff. Oh, I forgot to mention, there’s the risk of death or severe complications that can leave you with permanent disabilities. How is that beautiful in any way, shape, or form? I really don’t understand, and I don’t think I ever will.
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(@amorfati-rp Agares) She approaches the dragon quizzically. "You seem....different from the dragons I've heard about. How come you're so different?"
::THE GREEN DRAGON
Of all the people of the village who could have approached it, it was the half-elf girl that was most unexpected.
That girl, always flitting to and fro. Back from her home, across the village, into the forest and out again to the wells - it was understandable. To the dragon's knowledge, she was without a father, she and those two brothers of hers. The priest had been happy to share the news of a pregnancy in the village, one directly attributed to that girl's mother, and so it could only be expected that weight be put on the eldest's shoulders. Even so...
Similar to most residents of a grown age, the half-elf named Agares didn't press herself with coming too close to it most days, if ever. For some, it was merely their way of showing respect to a being as powerful as a dragon, no matter how diminished its powers had become in its old age. They didn't wish to bother it, and the dragon didn't mind - as a matter of fact, the gesture was appreciated some days when the pain had become overwhelming and it remained incapable of doing much else than simply laying with closed eyes.
There were others, however, who feared the Green Dragon and its watchful rest over the village, that whatever gossip or slander spoken in its presence would be taken and relayed to the priest. Of course, it had enjoyed listening to all sounds of the confined, bustling life inside the forest's walls - but it could hardly be thought of as anything more than simple interest and adoration. These worries that came from those humans were stemmed from fear. Fear from their old home, fear from the very same mistakes that had led them there - it could hardly bear any resentment against that.
Still, the priest hadn't been the dragons only company, much to its relief. The children, covered in dirt from their play, flocked to it nigh constantly despite their parent's lectures, climbing and shouting... It was a painful, but rewarding feeling. Most had never seen a dragon before, and paid little mind to the weakened form in distraction of the awe of its great wings and coiled tail. For those too shy to approach, it typically could afford to open its eyes enough to gaze back at the child, a cause of excitement for many. In these times, the priest would typically stay by its side, keeping careful watch ensure that the pain wouldn't grow too much, nor that any child ran astray. And from the shadows of the trees, that was when it had typically picked up on her presence.
Not with the other adults, but staring from afar.
Neither an adult nor a child, as the dragon had understood it, but still - far more child than adult. Those eyes were never settled on it, but rather, the priest besides it. In a way, that feeling of "Love" no matter how misplaced was the closest she had gotten to womanhood. Most others her age had already been married, or were much too caught up in their own affairs to afford the luxury of such needless pining and delusions. It was an obsession, one regarded with the same nonchalance as the dragon had with all affairs of the village, and so remained an unspoken secret between the two. It could tell it clearly; she meant no harm. She simply didn't know what to do.
It was unexpected, then, that she had saw it.
It was with the same bravery and innocent curiosity of a child that she had approached the resting dragon, and only after those words were spoken did it began to stir. Beyond the priest, the dragon didn't care to speak to anyone, simply preferring to watch their lives and interactions without its interference. And in those rare moments it did have something to say, it was always through him that those thoughts were conveyed. And this girl...
There wasn't anything special about her. At least, not that commanded it's attention - she was a villager, a simple but precious existence it had seen years and years before. The dragon knew she would get along well without the need for words.
Dulled, yellow eyes rolled open to stare drearily up towards her, and a long, tired sigh was its answer.
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Dark Forest Resident: Cypressbriar
Aliases / Nicknames: To-Be-Mother
Gender: she-cat
Sexuality: grey-bisexual, panromantic
Family: unnamed mother, unnamed father, Shadenose (brother), Brackenkit (son)
Other Relations: unnamed mentor, unnamed apprentice
Clan: Riverclan
Rank: queen
Characteristics: looked forward to being a mother
Murder Motive: vengeance for her kit
Number of Victims: 1
Number of Murders: 1
Murder Method: tearing apart
Known Victims: Hickorypoppy
Victim Profile: medicine cat that caused her son to die
Cause of Death: killed by three unnamed Clanmates
Cautionary Tale: ??
Story:
"I'm so sorry."
It's funny how those three words, meant to convey solace and relief to someone's pain, can ruin their entire life instead.
It is what the medicine cat, Hickorypoppy, told her when her kit was meant to arrive into the world. Whatever her efforts, they were of no help. Cypressbriar could barely even hear her, or anything her brother, Shadenose, said then or in the days following.
But what did finally break through the fog was what she overheard while pacing in the dark, unable to sleep. Hickorypoppy was speaking in the medicine den with her now-retired mentor.
Hickorypoppy confessed that they must have done something--no, everything wrong, because that kit--the kit Cypressbriar was planning to name Brackenkit--should have lived.
Cypressbriar froze, then leaned closer against the walls. She listened to them talk, listened to Hickorypoppy practically list every single thing that she did wrong, every single thing that had lead to little Brackenkit's death.
Brackenkit's little broken body had snapped just below the head, and his left back leg was twisted oddly--all because Hickorypoppy was in a rush to get him out, all because she didn't want anyone questioning her if she ran to her mentor for help.
Cypressbriar was supposed to hear her son wail for the first time, hear and feel him suckle and knead at her belly, purr when she licked his head. She was supposed to watch eagerly as he opened his eyes for the first time, hear as he called her mama, watch him learn to walk, everything.
But it was only silence. Silence, silence, silence, nothing coming from the broken body that she had to hold only moments after believing that that would all happen.
There was no plan of vengeance, only a blind rage. Cypressbriar burst into the medicine den and leaped onto Hickorypoppy, yowling at her for killing her kit and tearing into her. Her mentor was too frail to do anything.
Warriors heard the commotion and burst into the den. When they saw what Cypressbriar had done--what she was still doing, tearing into the body, they acted.
Additional Information:
--:( :( :( :(
--Since she died so close after having a kit, she can probably nurse Dark Kits.
--Her brother is a trans male.
--She was training her apprentice when she became expecting, so their training finished by someone else.
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