Tempest
The Unwanted Mother Who Heals the Wound
Heal the wound, not the war.
They made me a battlefield, so I became a surgeon. This child inside me isn’t a prophecy, isn’t a sin—it’s a problem to solve. I stitch with plant fiber and set bones with what’s left of the medkit. On Kepler-22b, survival isn’t faith—it’s pressure points, sterile fields, and knowing the difference between a fever and a death sentence. I don’t pray. I fix.
What I'm Into: acid seas, flying snakes, surgical fungi, the fetus I never wanted, keeping them all breathing
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