Seagulls.
His body is alight with indescribable pain, and there's a crumbling mall around him and a monster in front of him and tentacles like knives in his chest, his sides, his back -
He can't breathe. Exhaled all the air in his lungs on that scream, his last scream, a final act of defiance against a monster that he didn't have the strength to defy until now, and now he can't draw in new breath, he can't -
There were noises. Pandemonium. Concrete cracking, glass shattering, metal bending. Explosions, roaring. Screams. He's pretty sure there were screams. They might still be there, but they're drowned out by the sounds of -
Seagulls.
He blinks, and for a second the destroyed ceiling of the mall and the dark sky beyond turns blue, the light blue of a cloudless summer day. He blinks again, and it's gone.
He's lying down, and it's cold tiles against his back and there's blood underneath him but the blood warms him like sand on the beach, and he blinks again and the blue sky is back and the cacophony of noise is blending together to a buzzing, to white noise, to something rythmic like -
Waves breaking. Swash on sand.
Someone bends over him. A girl. Long red hair, crying, she's in pain like he's in pain and oh god he's in so much pain, but he doesn't want her to hurt so he says -
"I'm sorry"
- and doesn't know what he's sorry for.
He blinks. The sky is blue, the air smells like salt, and someone is bending over him. A woman. Long blonde hair, smiling. She reaches out a hand and gently brushes a bloody strand of hair out of his face.
He can't move. His body is broken, there are holes in his chest, his blood is full of crushed glass, tearing him up from the inside. It's worse than anything and everything he has ever experienced, is enough to push every memory and rational thought right out of his head and replace it with agony.
"It hurts," he says, and it's a sob, a wheeze, blood bubbling out between his lips.
"I know," someone says, and it's a woman. Long blonde hair, smiling. Familiar. Her hand is on his cheek, her fingers brushing away the tears that are drawing clean paths through the grime on his temples. Her touch is soft, cool on his burning skin, soothing -
Something wet hits his face, something salty like a tear, but that doesn't make sense because no one is crying but him. The sky is blue above him and the sand is warm beneath him and the sounds around him are of seagulls and waves, and that must be it, not a teardrop but a splash from the sea; salty and wet, as if the ocean itself cries for him -
"It hurts," he says again, because it does, but there's a woman there, with long blonde hair, and he knows her, it's -
"Mom"
- and her smile widens and her hands are on his face and her smile is the sun, is warmth and comfort and peace.
"I'll kiss it better," she says, and bends down and places her lips on his forehead, lightly, barely touching.
He closes his eyes, and takes what feels like the first breath in forever. Something like life blooms from her touch.
She presses a kiss to each of his closed eyelids, and he feels his heart restart in his chest and can't remember when it stopped.
She kisses his cheek, and the background noises - that aren't the seagulls, or the sounds of waves - fade. Another kiss on his other cheek, and the sky stabilizes, and stays blue. He can't recall what it used to be, before.
"It still hurts," he murmurs, confused but at peace, but she kisses his bare chest where a hole should be, and there's nothing there but unbroken skin.
"Does it?" she asks, laughter in her tone, and he realizes that no, it doesn't. Where before there was a wildfire raging in every inch of his body, now there's only the gentle warmth of the sun bearing down on them both. There's no more pain, because his mother kissed it better, just like she said she would.
He sits up. Digs his toes into the white sand, looks out over the endless blue in front of him, sky and water, meeting at the horizon far from here, before he turns and looks at the woman beside him. His mother.
"I've missed you," he says, "Please don't leave", and his voice cracks like he hasn't seen her in a long time, but he can't remember ever being away from her, can't remember anything but this moment, right here.
"Oh baby," she says, and her arms are around him. They don't reach all the way around his shoulders, and for a second there is a fleeting memory of another hug, a lifetime ago, where his shoulders were smaller, where he was smaller, but as soon as it appeared it fades. "I won't leave you, ever again."
There's seagulls and a blue sky, cool waves meeting warm sand and his mother's arms around him, and everything feels right.
He buries his face in her long, blonde hair as she murmurs in his ear, "You're finally home."
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I saw this from the female separatism subreddit & the responses are some of the biggest reasons for separatism et al (or extinction if I'm being candid here). Moids cant be reformed they are fully aware of the hell they force women to live in. MaIe achievement & happiness is rooted in female exploitation & life. Their glory days are based on our horrific days. No amount of love, kindness or facts will change maIes and we cannot happily or even neutrally coexist with them.
Main points across answers:
Many want to experiment but not permanently be women
They dont want to be in constant danger or lose their autonomy at the hands of maIes for merely existing
They dont want to deal with childbirth (& periods)
They dont want to have to share spaces with species much stronger than them with ulterior motives
It makes me go crazy seeing people give moids benefit of doubt for their evil like "maIes just dont understand", "we need to teach maIes", or claiming that maIe violence is a result of maIes struggling with (expressing) their feelings. I get that women love maIes and it can be hard to imagine that people can intentionally be so evil but it is what it is. MaIes have no problems expressing themselves, abusing women is what maIes choose to do because they enjoy & benefit from it - that is their expression.
MaIes see the same news of women being abused, raped, and killed like we do except rather than be disheartened or alarmed they're either apathetic or satisfied. It isn't aliens that's committing GBV it's maIes & maIes have no problem reminding women of this when women anger them (such as rape threats & threatening women they'll end up on the news/true crime). The victim blaming, denial, and derailment of misogyny is part of the game to keep the system alive, they know the events occured & are a systemic occurence they just dont care. Hell not only do they not care, they rejoice in it or get off on it.
MaIes set up environments that work in their favour which simultaneously ensures that women will lose. They know women are set up to live in damn near impossible conditions for us. It's normalised for women to defenselessly share personal & private spaces with beings much more stronger than them with ulterior motives for us, it's trap. It's interesting how these moids aren't saying that they'll just cover up and *poof* harrassment gone, or they'll just pick a nice guy & they'll be okay. MaIes know the net negative they are towards women.
MaIes know that childbirth is a painful process & what do they do? Demand it happens and make it even MORE painful for women. MaIes that impregnate women do not love or care for them. Pregnancy itself is dangerous & sometimes lethal, often comes with a range of health issues, to cause someone to be in that condition especially in a environment where abortions are illegal is reckless & unloving. Now imagine how sinister & full of hatred one has to be to impregnate someone and abuse them on top of that. Many women risk their health & lives to reproduce with a Y and they get abused by said Y instead of being taken care of. Deranged.
Realising that maIes are aware of the evil they inflict is one of the things that radicalised me. It isn't a miscommunication or ignorance issue, their violence is intended. They want control. The cruelty is the point. Instead of wasting time & energy trying to change maIes or hope that they "understand" one day, focus on yourself & other women (who prioritise women). Moids aren't oblivious to female pain they enjoy it. A lot of women treat maIe evil like it's a mistake on maIes part but it's calculated terrorism. I know that this will go over many womens heads as they refuse to hold strong negative sentiments about moids as a collective so if you're not a woman like that, take this post as a sanity check. You aren't crazy, it isn't all in your head.
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i feel like this is a hot take, but it's clear to me that so much of ianthe's outward projection of superiority is a deeply ingrained — really, formative — sense of inadequacy. it's to prove to everyone, even the people who were supposed to love her, who were supposed to inherently value her, that she does actually have value — in fact, she has the most value because look at what she can DO!
and i don't even think she's entirely internalized that, but that kind of projection kind of falls apart if you show even a moment of self-doubt
and i know ianthe isn’t supposed to be sympathetic here, or at least i’m assuming she’s not to most people, but can you imagine the body horror of being inextricably tied to and irrevocably altered by the guy you grew up with and didn’t even really like and who didn’t like you either (but who served you because that was his Role, and, who, even though you’ll never admit it, you maybe even cared about a bit because at a certain point that’s kind of unavoidable - i know she tried to convince palamedes she didn’t, but she is a known liar prone to sentimentality), but it was fine because you knew you were better than him, too?
except now you're not exactly, not entirely better than him, because he's not just fueling you, you didn't get to just use him to become someone who matters. instead, he's part of you, and you still don't matter?
like from what she says about her parents' reaction to the canaan house aftermath, even that part didn't work. she didn't earn mommy and daddy's validation, admiration, anything
and she's running his empire, but she's still third place to surrogate daddy, too. if she even places!
ianthe naberius is very much the consequences of her own actions, i’m not going full apologia here, just imagining being in that position and. goddamn
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