#inner analysis

At night, the hyper-logical part of my brain shuts down, and the mafia empathetic side takes over. Basically, I’m drawn to either writing deeply emotional texts (about myself and my projects - yes, that’s the secret to my character immersion) or diving into self-analysis.

So… I recently realized I’ve loved vore, in one form or another, my entire life. I just never connected the dots. Movies, cartoons, and shows featuring consumption or entrapment always stuck in my head. Think about it: as a kid watching Qumi-Qumi, the only episode I distinctly remember is the one where they wake up a monster and try to escape its stomach… I was so young...

Middle school was pure chaos. I was bullied by my entire class for four years. I felt like my strength and sanity were being tested daily. I told myself: If they’re going to call me a monster, I’ll become one. And I did. You haven’t met my sona yet, but believe me - it were born around this time. A dragon, originally created to shield my soul from betrayal, but over time, that image twisted. I tried to split my personality into pieces. I only partially succeeded, but I learned to bury the old me beneath a hardened shell.

I used to be so open and trusting. I made friends easily and assumed everyone around me was safe. I was wrong. Deadly wrong. I withdrew, pushing people away before they could hurt me. But I found a new kind of strength: I channeled my anger and trauma into something useful. I’d been taught self-defense since kindergarten (this was still the post-Soviet after “wild 90s” era, people tried to reabilitate from it). When words failed me, I knew I could physically brake them. Humans, after all, are surprisingly fragile~

My inner world grew dark, filled with blood and cruelty. I hated people. In my mind, I’d brutally tear them apart and feed them to some monsters (that's still a source of inspiration, but you don't want to ask me about it, spell you). It’s hard to admit, but back then, I was deeply drawn to hard and lethal vore. Yet on the surface, I kept it all locked away. For the record: I never actually fought anyone at school.

Music was my release valve. Even now, when I'm not in the mood, I turn on loud heavy music. Imagine a girl blasting Death Metal or Thrash Metal. I’m obsessed with the DOOM soundtracks or sth like Orbit Culture’s - “Mute the Silent.” Give them a listen - you’ll get exactly what I mean.

Did you think it would last forever? No. One particularly awful day in ninth grade, I decided it was time to get this over with. How do you prove you’re not just all bark and no bite? You piercing your teeth into flesh. I picked up a knife. Out of my mind, I just walked to school. My parents didn’t notice. My siblings were wrapped up in their own lives… Too easy.

I’d lived by a strict moral code since childhood. But it had a loophole: nowhere did it explicitly say I couldn’t harm others… Reality hit me only in the school hallway. Two teachers were on duty by the stairs. My homeroom teacher had always defended me of bulling, and my English teacher was basically my best friend… I snapped out of it. My rational mind fought to take over. Another rule kicked in: I must obey elders. I collapsed in their hands, whispering “Stop me…”

They brushed it off, saying it wasn’t the right time or place, but it was enough. The day passed quietly. Apparently, no one took it seriously. Even didn't tell my parents… Only I knew how close I’d come to crossing a line. I'm powerful enough to it and it still terrifies me. But more importantly, it taught me to cling to the people who actually matter.

Four years have passed. “friendship” feels like an empty word to me now. I let people in easily and let them go just as fast. I don’t get attached and I never give a chance to hit me. Never let my regards down... The only people I trust completely are my family. I finally accepted that they’ve always been on my side.

Inside, things shifted. The inner fire dimmed, and the dragon, with no battles left to fight, finally fell asleep. That doesn’t mean I lost my strength - quite the opposite. I learned how to wield it. I’m ready to stand up for my people and tear apart anyone who threatens them. I’ve also learned to read people: their appearence, their voice, body language. It keeps me far away from toxic individuals.

I started volunteering. Every Saturday, I run workshops for kids at the local library. Sometimes, kids shout after me on the street. They know me as “Drakosha - D(name)”. You might not understand, but “Drakosha” is a soft, affectionate Russian diminutive for “dragon.” I have three younger siblings, and somewhere along the way, I developed “big sister syndrome.” I’m constantly trying to guide, protect, and teach those younger than me. I’m even considering a second degree in education. Sixteen years of being the oldest definitely did this to me…

I’ve come to deeply value soft vore now. Comfort. Care. Protection. It makes sense, doesn’t it? Even my sona reads as a deeply caring guardian. I know my past left scars, so I try to keep my fangs and claws sheathed, hoping people won’t fear me. I used to growl and bare my teeth just to prove I was dangerous. That mindset also led me to a trope I love (and plan to explore in SVHB part?): when prey sees a gentle predator suddenly turn feral - not out of hunger, but to protect someone they care about. Look at my blog tags again: g/t vore, caretaking, willing, fearplay. It all clicks now, in hindsight…

I’ll leave you with two takeaways:

1. Even the calmest lake can unleash a tidal wave if you stir it deep enough.

2. Self-reflection can happen through the weirdest places - even through niche hobbies and fictional tastes.