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sregan · 2 months

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Thoughts on Denis Villeneuve's "Dune: Part Two" (2024)

Following on from my recent viewing of the first part when it returned to cinemas, I've now been able to apply myself to view the second part also. Once again, in lieu of a proper essay I have merely recorded my impressions in roughly chronological order.

As a reminder I previously wrote about how I might adapt Dune, years before Villeneuve's latest effort, as well as creating some concept art (I am working on my take on Shaddam Corrino IV). I did not re-read the book ahead of my most recent viewing and therefore some of my critique might be inadvertently comparing it to my own ideas on adaptation rather than the source material.

I was amazed and a little aghast that after all the talk of not doing introspection and critiquing the 1984 version's clunky opening narration by Princess Irulan, Villeneuve's Part Two opens with ... a clunky opening narration by Irulan. Perhaps there was a desire to have the 'other woman' do the narration as the first film opened with Chani as our viewpoint character; here we start with the view from the Imperium, introducing the Emperor.

Irulan implies the Emperor loved Leto like a son and is torn up about ordering his death. Was this in the books? When she says 'And the Emperor says' - we are on the edge of our seats, waiting for Walken's dialogue - 'nothing'. I am unsure if this was a clever trick or not. Shaddam here is portrayed as an older man, perhaps infirm, manipulated by those around him and particularly women. This is part of the sexual politics Villeneuve presents to us specifically in Part Two which stood out to me as either peculiarly heterodox for a mainstream modern Hollywood production, or perhaps was intended to be progressive but poorly assembled and unable to overcome Herbert's own (but noticeably different) views - some might say hang-ups - on the sexes.

My sense is very little time has passed on Arrakis since the end of the first film, despite Irulan's narration creating the impression it is old news. The column is still carrying Jamis's body and on its way to the sietch.

This sits oddly with Stilgar's blithe dismissal that the Harkonnen are there for the two Atreides. Are you sure? In-universe that was no more than 72 hours ago (the first night in the desert and the second in Kynes' weather station, with the sun coming up during the Jamis fight). He doesn't know the Baron ordered Rabban to commit genocide against the Fremen, so the logical conclusion is they are still looking for Paul and Jessica.

The opening fight scene seemed interesting, even if I wasn't sure why Paul and Jessica were where they were or why they didn't seem to be armed. Villeneuve seems to have forgotten that at the very least Paul has his crysknife and the gun he used to threaten Stilgar just hours earlier in-universe. I didn't mind the pregnant Jessica clubbing the Harkonnen over the head to protect her son, even though I feel like if this film had been earmarked differently by the usual suspects on YouTube and Twitter it would have been viewed as ridiculous and 'woke' given criticism of the same in games like Wolfenstein II.

As a note: The Harkonnen in the opening scene are now using Sardaukar antigrav tech; I feel this works poorly because we've been conditioned from the first film to associate this with the Emperor's forces, even though they weren't involved. I wondered if they had just randomly changed up the Sardaukar uniforms (which they have, but more on that later).

Sietch Tabr felt interesting but not quite as I imagined; did I miss something or were we really not properly introduced to the terraforming effort? We see some bird nests and the precious underground water and Stilgar says when Lisan al-Gaib comes he will use the water to transform Arrakis, but we seem to have dropped any mention of the idea they were already working towards it. And indeed, Kynes won't appear in this film at all - my preference to kick off a two-parter would have been Kynes wandering in the desert, dying of dehydration while having his revelation about how the sandworm life-cycle works, re-introducing us to the setting and the worms.

I feel the need to mention Villeneuve's racial politics here, which, like his sexual politics, seem awkward in ways commentators don't seem to have entirely picked up on.

When the sietch receives Paul and Jessica with hostility, there is a noticeable shift in who the camera lingers on, to the extent that the Fremen seem abruptly almost entirely black or very dark-skinned, with the lighter Stilgar and Chani the only ones speaking up for the outsiders. I hope I shouldn't need to explain this; if it's calculated, it is calculated to induce a kind of gut-reaction fear in white audiences. I noticed this in the first film where Jamis was cast as black and presented as noticeably wilder and crazier than the other Fremen. One might be tempted to suggest this is establishing ethnic groups within the Fremen - after all, later we learn that Stilgar comes from the south, so perhaps the north is darker-skinned (which would sync with some of the black city-dwellers we see in Arrakeen). It would even make sense as the south is said to be covered with dust storms and thus not exposed to direct sun. Except, as soon as the sietch turns and becomes more welcoming, the camera begins favouring the lighter-skinned north Africa and Middle Eastern Fremen actors.

This leads quite neatly into the Fremen culture and language. David Peterson, the linguist who worked on Game of Thrones, was tapped to create languages for Dune based on the phrases in the book, and others have picked up on the strange decision to avoid using actual Arabic words wherever possible - explained in inverviews as Peterson feeling that thousands of years into the future languages would have evolved so far that any similarities are mere coincidence. This means that words that are too important to the franchise to change, such as 'Lisan al-Gaib' (which they use a *lot*, seemingly to avoid relying on real-world messianic titles like Mahdi), stay as-is but others are radically changed. "Ya Hya Chouhada", a real-world battlecry meaning 'long live the martyrs', is changed in Part Two to a fictional phrase (I didn't remember it and seemingly others I haven't either) in the Peterson conlang. This is disappointing and actually not true to life given how Latin survived for thousands of years as a holy language.

UPDATE: The new phrase based on Peterson's conlang is something like 'A t'la abisi a santar!'. I can vaguely see something like 'life' in 'santar', but it's from a Latinate root. 'Toward the fighters, life'? Maybe 'At'la savaşçı uzun ', incorporating the Turkish word for 'fighter' and '?

It also means that Villeneuve's Dune is oddly sanitised and stripped of the book's Islamic and Central Asian cultural touchpoints. Very little mention is made of God; characters pray but I think at one point Paul says that they prey to their dead relatives (?). 'Jihad' and any mention of the book's main religions (Zensunni and Orange Catholicism) are excised.

All this begs the question - where is the line between inclusion and Orientalism? Where is the line between diversity and caricature? Or between cultural sensitivity and the kind of flattening that insists on Western neoliberal values everywhere at all times, even in our fiction? In 1984, the Fremen were mostly cast as white (likely due to actor availability) - not necessarily an incorrect reading of the book, given Herbert's inspiration 'The Sabres of Paradise' was not about Arab but Caucasian mountain tribes. Change them to a mix of interchangeable 'non-white' actors and have them led by Timothee Chalamet and the accusations of 'white savior complex' gain weight. Selectively show darker extras when you want the audience to be afraid and lighter when you want them to feel sympathetic and, to be honest, you probably deserve a few thinkpieces which I haven't seen in the press.

Stilgar threatens Jessica that he'll have her killed unless she agrees to become the new Reverend Mother. I felt this went back on his development in the first film, or even a couple of scenes ago where he fought their corner against the unsympathetic female elder. Jessica's flippant, almost Marvel-esque dialogue in the next scene where she references this annoyed me. Villeneuve has Jessica's experience with the water of life happen early in the movie and long before Paul's. This is somewhat true to the book and better than the 1984 version where Paul only takes the Water when his prophetic dreams randomly stop working, but my favoured method of compressing this for film has Jessica take the Water, fall into a coma, and Paul rescue her by taking the Water himself, entering into the same vision. This is when Jessica begins to suspect they are not merely using prophecies created by the Bene Gesserit, but Paul may in fact be the Kwisatz Haderach.

In Villeneuve's version, Chani is initially skeptical of the prophecy, saying only the southerners are superstitious (an invented distinction not found in the book). This is set up fairly competently as a romantic conflict; Paul wins Chani when he only wants to be one of the Fremen, but doing so means giving up on his revenge - however, the way it's resolved is frankly offensive and one of the things that I found most disrespectful about Villeneuve's Dune as an adaptation.

The first we see of wormriding in this film (Stilgar on a small worm) didn't entirely impress me; I feel it should have been much farther off to give a greater sense of the scale of the worms. However, Paul's own wormriding trial eliminated my doubts; again, no-one is doing cinematic scale like Villeneuve right now, where the audience is absorbed completely in *witnessing* a monumental event, without the need for quick cuts or snappy quips.

The 'naming' scene was also great and felt plausible as Paul being welcomed as one of the Fedaykin (interestingly Peterson didn't rename that one, despite being almost identical to 'Fedayeen').

The Harkonnen 'evil spice harvesters' bothered me - the harvesters we saw in the first film *WERE* Harkonnen harvesters! The Atreides literally just assumed control of the operation days earlier. The ornithopter mini-guns were pretty great but also felt un-Duney. The use of lasguns also felt good even if perhaps not book-accurate.

I actually really liked Rabban's failed reprisals, with the Harkonenn getting lost in the dust of their own carpet bombings and and the big guy losing his nerve when he sees Muad'dib's shadow. Bautista is surprisingly (?) one of the stand-out performances in the two movies.

We get some much-needed off-world politics, with Irulan talking to the Reverend Mother and deducing (I feel this wasn't in the book) that Muad'dib is Paul Atreides. There's clearly an effort made to present Irulan as a more hard-nosed politician in the making, with Shaddam even saying she will be a 'formidable Empress'. Mohiam introduces us to the idea of Feyd-Rautha being an alternative 'candidate' to Paul (did they actually say 'to be the Kwisatz Haderach'?? I don't think they did).

My feelings on Giedi Prime being an insane hellplanet are a matter of public record; it goes against a central theme of Dune, which is that a harsh environment breeds both discipline in the sense of espirit de corps and discipline in moral life. Whether you agree or disagree with the 'Fremen Mirage', this is Herbert's central idea. In the book, Giedi Prime is a neo-feudal world, with a cheerfully painted blue keep where 'fearful perfection' under military jackboot is the order of the day, but just off the main street you can see dilapidation and decay. It's a Potemkin village, feeding into the idea that Baron Harkonnen and his house are fundamentally about falsity and fakeness. He wears suspensors to convey the idea he is more physically able than he is. Feyd fights in a gladiatorial arena, but the combatants are drugged to make him look more competent. When a combatant isn't drugged, it's a plot to win over the crowd and he's not really in danger. Everywhere gets a fresh coat of paint and smiles at gunpoint when visitors arrive, but under the surface they don't genuinely care for the people.

In Villeneuve's Dune, Giedi Prime is an infrared nightmare under a 'black sun' (yes, the pasty skinhead Harkonnen live under a black sun, a seemingly deliberate allusion to fascist occultism trivia that made me raise an eyebrow). No diversity among the Harkonnen; it's just an anonymous tide of bobbing bald white heads. Again, I was unsure how to read this obvious Villeneuve innovation (in the original books the Harkonnen are mentioned as having dark hair). For what it's worth, Lynch did something very similar when he decided the Harkonnen were universally ginger. I also feel we've seen this archetype quite recently in 'Mad Max' with the white-painted radiation-sick Warboys.

This decision to make the Harkonnen interchangeable mooks does somewhat detract from Austin Butler's Feyd Rautha, who is just another chalky bald guy among many. Butler tries his best to infuse the role with random acts of violence against his own minions that put the 1984 version's heartplugs to shame. Couple it with Rabban's temper tantrum smashing the overseer against his monitor and you have to ask - why does anyone follow these psychopaths? At some point the bad guys end up killing more of their own than the enemy and it makes them feel incompetent and stupid.

In this version, the undrugged slave was a 'birthday present' from the Baron, who wanted to see who Feyd really was under pressure. In the book, Feyd contrives the assassination attempt with Thufir Hawat to increase his own standing with the people. There's no poison on Feyd's blades (he even licks one) but I think (the moment was super-fast) the Bene Gesserit watching mention that he uses an implanted word to stagger the slave momentarily. Odd to see that in this version the Harkonnen seem to worship their leaders ('the holy birthday of our beloved na-Baron'?).

It's an interesting reversal as in the book, Feyd tries to poison the Baron by having one of his sex slaves implanted with a needle (foreshadowing his own use of a similar hidden device in the final fight).

Margot Fenring appears here unaccompanied as a Bene Gesserit femme fatale, and her seduction of Feyd Rautha and their subsequent discussion of his levers was well done.

Around this time Villeneuve starts deciding that the Bene Gesserit are psychic, which is jarring and I don't believe foreshadowed (Jessica communicates using sign-language with her son but not in glances). I almost wondered if this scene - and the later one where the Bene Gesserit have an impromptu psychic discussion - were rewritten after filming.

Returning to Arrakis after the harsh black and white Giedi Prime seemed like a breath of fresh air and I think that was the intent. Villeneuve uncharacteristically doesn't linger long enough on the dunes for my tastes.

I should note here that in this version, Jessica emerges from the water of life trial changed, and while her motives are to protect Paul, she is subsequently framed in a very antagonistic role, always pushing for Paul to cynically embrace the prophecies and so, in this version, drive a wedge between him and Chani. This syncs up with my observations in Part One that Villeneuve almost presents her as a romantic interest for Paul; if so, here she is almost the 'other girl', and Paul has to choose between mother/prophecy and Chani/a simple life among the Fremen (this latter choice is highlighted by him removing the signet ring when he feels welcomed by the Fremen but keeping it in his stillsuit).

Gurney Halleck in this version is not leading a ragged band of Atreides guerillas like 1984's Patrick Stewart version. Rather he is now keeping a low profile and working as a spice miner, seemingly having given up hope that any remnants of House Atreides remain. The Fremen attack the harvester but Paul recognises him and tells them to stay their hand and presumably save the rest of the crew, though I don't think we see anyone else after this and he's more or less framed as the last remnant of Paul's old retinue in the final scenes. This *really* bothered me. Gurney says he managed to get offworld after the attack. OK; we know he has knowledge of the location of the Atreides atomics and hates the Harkonnen with every bone in his body; first for killing his family prior to the events of the first movie (as he reveals for I think the first time here); and then the loss of his new family with the death of Duke Leto. And so, Villeneuve imagines, he...

...goes back to Arrakis to work for the Harkonnen (the movie really seems to have forgotten who owns the original harvesters) and forgets about the atomics. What the absolute fuck? They do establish that the door is gene-coded so only a direct descendent of the Duke can open it (the line 'your genetic heritage only, m'lord' made me visibly cringe in the theatre), but in-universe, is there *any* reason he wouldn't go to, say, House Richese and say 'The Emperor was involved in the attack on Arrakis. I saw Sardaukar among the Harkonnen. I know where there are untraceable nukes on Arrakis; send in a covert mining team and you can tunnel down to get them. All I ask is you use some of them on Giedi Prime and the rest on Kaitan.'

For all that 1984 stretched plausibility that Gurney and his men could have survived in the desert without Fremen skills, it still feels more plausible than him getting off world then just coming back to work on a harvester.

(Note: in the book he joins a smuggler crew. Did they mention in an off-hand remark in the film that the crew he was with were not Harkonnen?)

The worm-drowning scene was well-done, even if I thought they should probably have set up the sandtrouts here if they have any hope of filming 'God-Emperor'.

Feyd Rautha's anti-grav ships bombard Sietch Tabr, causing heavy casualties. I almost feel like more attention should have been placed on this and how *this* is what changes Paul's mind; seeing his own new family injured and dead, rather than continuing for several scenes with will-he won't-he back and forth. Leave me here and go south - the people will only go if you go - there's an important meeting, they call the Lisan al-Gaib to appear, etc. The reunion between Paul and Chani *should* have been the conclusion of their romance arc here. I noticed the 'I will love you as long as you stay true to yourself' and anticipated the subsequent tension, but it felt clumsy.

Paul apparently just shows up and abruptly decides to drink the Stuff on a whim. This felt really bad and rushed. There was a jarring cut between him arriving and the guardian offering him the drink that I *think* was meant to represent Jessica's Voice command taking effect; she warns him 'leave or die' and then finds herself administering the Stuff.

(as a note: just how powerful is Villeneuve's Voice? It can apparently implant suggestions that take effect days or weeks later)

The female voice in Paul's visions has apparently (I think) been Alia? I am not sure about this as my assumption after the last movie was that it was future!Jessica. I didn't think the 'mind opening' was that well done in terms of mind-warping visuals, other than seeing an ocean in the desert. We caught of a glimpse of what I think were meant to be the face of his female ancestors, but a big point in the book is that the Kwisatz Haderach can access the memories of both his female and male ancestors (for all that this makes very little sense). This was crying out for a cameo from Duke Leto, instead of all people he sees Jamis (this may have been book-accurate, I can't remember at point of writing).

In the vision, he learns that Baron Harkonnen is his grandfather and 'we are Harkonnens'. So the pasty skin, black teeth and hairlessness of the Harkonnen is just environmental? Or even just fashion? This is interesting to see given the Harkonnen have been very deliberately racially 'Othered'.

In a reverse Sleeping Beauty scenario, Chani administers some more Water of Life, mingled with her tears, which wakes Paul up, because it vaguely fits the (fake, fabricated by the Bene Gesserit) prophecy? I am struggling to see how this works in-universe, for all that they clearly wanted some more action for her as female co-lead. Was it just a 'hair of the dog'?

The Fremen war council was spectacular, in a vast cavern (?) with lit podia (or was it just one with reflections on the walls?). Chani is again regrettably throughly modern, breaching her own society's rules by barging onto the podium to lecture to her leader. Her having to be restrained in accordance with Fremen decorum by Gurney Halleck *might* have been intended to be character development for him, but I think was just clumsy writing.

In general, Chalamet's acting was up to par, but something different was needed from him after his transformation into the Kwisatz Haderach and we didn't get it (for those saying he wasn't really changed; nonsense - he now has psychic powers that would make Kyle MacLachlan's version blush, actively reading minds when this is supposed to be impossible in-universe). What was called for here was a very elevated style of talking when he is consciously assuming the messianic role, reminiscent of holy text - not necessarily thees and thous but 'shall's and 'unto you's.

I cringed a little when, for example, he threatened the Emperor later in very unelevated, thuggish language. I can somewhat forgive the sections he is speaking Peterson's conlang-Fremen language it sounds quite rough; part of this is probably the difficulty getting the actors to sound fluent but it also had some echoes of rough and tumble military braggadochio in languages like Turkish.

The Emperor's reflective sphere-ship was certainly imposing; possibly too much so as it dwarfs Arakeen, something not immediately obvious from the ground shots so later when we see it just hovering over what just looks like a landing strip I wondered why it was suddenly out in the middle of nowhere before realising the shapes on the ground were the quarters of the entire planet's capital city!

I am always annoyed at the possibly royalties-motivated redesign of uniforms in sequels, and the Sardaukar here are a particularly offensive example. It's literally been less than nine months since the Battle of Arakeen; probably less given Jessica is not (I think) massively pregnant at the end. I did wonder if the redesign was to emphasise that 'the hunter has become the hunted'; now the Sardaukar are, like the Atreides, mostly bare-faced and their opponent is now the masked Fremen. On some level I feel this was deliberate, as when later the Sardaukar assume an Atreides-like sword line. I was also annoyed that we didn't hear any throat-singing as the Sardaukar form up outside the palace-ship. This would have immediately worked to remind us 'Oh yes, those guys', and differentiate them from the Harkonnen mooks who the Fremen have been killing all movie.

The attack on Arakeen was generally great - I would have liked to have seen the nuke scene handled differently and linger more on Paul silhouetted against the mushroom cloud.

The worm attack was also good; I did notice that suddenly the Harkonnen ornithopters become significantly less powerful than in the first movie, both rockets and miniguns seeming ineffective against worms and infantry Fremen alike. There wasn't really any sense that Shaddam's hubris led to him remaining on-planet (even the Dune 2000 game did this better, with the Truthsayer whispering 'Retreat, with victory in sight? Release the Sardaukar!"). I also felt like they sneakily tried to resolve a discrepancy between the visions of the first movie and this one by putting Chani in the role of infantry leader; she ends a shot in the exact same pose as Paul in the first movie when he has a vision of killing Sardaukar in a power suit (these don't appear in the second movie). In the second movie, he arrives on a worm instead. I guess this is a slight retcon and he is seeing himself in the place of whoever the vision is about. It seems a real waste though as presumably this sequence was shot - or was this implied to be during the galactic jihad?

One thing that stood out to me was the (redesigned) Sardaukar trying to regain formation after the blast takes down the mountain and the following storm. The first thing we see is one trooper trying to lift the Corrino banner and, as the wind overcomes him, another one helping to get it upright again. This felt *immensely* true to the book's universe.

Walken wasn't as bad as I feared; he mostly resisted the mugging I feared and wasn't given any lines containing 'walk without rhythm' or 'weapon of choice'. He plays Shaddam, again, as elderly, weary and manipulated, with the suggestion of fire re-emerging when he tells Paul 'your father was a weak man' ringing true. His throne room was appropriately Villeneuve-brutalist while still feeling Dune-y, and he thankfully replaces the Palpatine robe he wears at the beginning with an understated but still decently ornate tunic when holding court. No Burseg helmet as per the books, sadly. Should we read anything into the Emperor's throneroom being lit in a very obvious cross?

I understand why the plot was changed to give Paul a chance to meet the Baron and enact his revenge personally. Feyd wasn't in the first film and despite much more screen time compared to 1984 and even the mini-series doesn't feel satisfying as a final target for Paul's vendetta.

(As a note, the Baron throughout this movie now has a floating respirator with him that I am certain he didn't have in the first film. Is this supposed to be a lingering consequence of the gas attack?)

In this version, the duel between Paul and Feyd Rautha is explicitly a challenge to Shaddam for the throne, with Feyd serving as the Emperor's champion. This felt odd; has it been established that in this version the Padishah Emperor is a role you can have a knife-fight for, like the Klingons in Star Trek? I believe in both the book and 1984 version the coup was presented as a fait accompli with the duel a simple matter of honour and arguably an unnecessary risk by Paul; Shaddam's forces are shattered with only those immediately around him still loyal.

This is further reduced in the 2024 version as Paul has his Fremen kill the remaining Sardaukar and bring the Emperor to the visitor accommodation. This was a really missed opportunity as it deprives us of a huge and obvious shot; the victorious Paul sitting on the throne.

Feyd has no secret poison spikes in this version and, annoyingly, there's no tension in Paul choosing whether or not to use the Voice (Feyd Rautha reacts to Paul commanding the Reverend Mother to be 'Silent!' as if noting and remembering the ability, but we've already established he's vulnerable to it). This continues a trend of Villeneuve forgetting about the Voice in combat, where in the first film Jessica doesn't use it against Stilgar and Paul doesn't use it against Jamis, without even a one-off line like 'and no Bene Gesserit tricks'. Rather, he wins the first two clashes, even leaving a knife embedded in Paul's shoulder, before Paul kills him in a grapple that recalls his first on-screen spar with Gurney Halleck; Feyd is focused on the knife he is pushing further and further through Paul's seemingly exhausted grip, but he - and the viewer - can't see Paul's knife further down.

I *think* we were supposed to understand that as a possible Kwisatz Haderach Feyd is outside Paul's newly acquired precognition (this was sort of foreshadowed when he says he didn't foresee the attack on the sietch), together with the mention by Feyd that he dreamed about Lady Fenring, but wasn't spelled out.

A moment somewhat mocked on social media, but which I felt rang very true, was Bardem's frantic "Lisan al-Gaib!" when it is clear Paul has just barely survived the duel. This is *not* Stilgar the believer once again extolling his messiah's supernatural powers. This is Stilgar the politician and tribal leader realising that Paul looks very vulnerable and *un-supernatural* right now, and if he doesn't quickly get the watching Fremen on board with a chant of 'Lisan al-Gaib' the spell may be broken.

I liked how the Emperor was forced to plead for his life via the medium of his daughter, and the ambiguity of Paul's gesture; I initially thought he was commanding Irulan to step away from her father and take his hand in marriage (and this might be intentional), but instead, Shaddam is forced to go down to his knees and kiss Paul's ducal ring; a good use for the ring finding its way to Paul, which I complained about in the first movie (he also uses it in this movie to seal the ultimatum to the Emperor earlier).

The other Houses refuse Paul's ultimatum to accept him as Emperor (did he say this? I thought they only asked the other Houses to hear him out), leaving Paul to command his Fremen 'Lead them to heaven', ushering in the jihad. But we see their ships leaving seemingly without ill effect. This was crying out for first a few then intensifying rockets from the ground; perhaps even one of the ships burning and falling to emphasise that, yes, Paul just declared war on the entire universe and the ships are *fleeing*.

The final shot, incomprehensibly, is a grumpy Chani on her own, preparing to ride a worm. Perhaps Villeneuve has a plan for how Dune: Messiah will play out with her, maybe even taking some of the role of Alia, who obviously doesn't have the same interaction with the original cast here, being a psychic fetus the entire film-

(At this point I should violently interject; Villeneuve's politics, by God. What are we to make of the fetal personhood on show multiple times in this movie, at this time in American politics? She isn't even called an 'abomination'; that line is transferred to refer to Paul (who irritatingly doesn't even get to declare 'Look into that place you dare not look; you'll find me there' to justify it, just use the Voice, which the Bene Gesserit already know he can do!

Is the fact that it is most clearly championed by Jessica, who in this version has an antagonistic or at least 'bad influence' bent, intended to make it ambiguous? I feel this choice was probably intended to avoid the time-jump implied by a child actor; or perhaps to avoid the controversy of Alia of the Knife being a murderous toddler. But, as with his sexual and racial politics, what emerges is something that feels very odd, like he accidentally ended up throwing in a pro-life message.)

-All this should make us wonder. Villeneuve clearly likes the idea that Chani is the viewpoint character of Dune, beginning the first film with a voiceover from her and concluding with changing the story (no "history will call us wives" here) to leave her on her own but also seemingly abandoned in favour of the swanky princess; again, I feel like this last one wasn't intentional. There was probably an intent that 'Chani is her own woman and in this version she wouldn't want to marry Paul after he gives in and embraces the messianic role', but does it read as that? Or does it read as 'Chani missed her chance and Paul has married someone more suitable' (again, there's a racial reading here that can't be ignored; something not present in the 1984 version where Chani is played by Sean Young). Is this simply neo-Puritanism over the idea of the protagonist having multiple wives (I don't think any adaptation has thrown in the fact that Paul is honour-bound to marry Jamis's wife also)? Did someone say 'this feels a bit harem anime'?

The Guild are almost completely missing, and instead of using his knowledge of the worm lifecycle to threaten to use the stored water to create a chain reaction that will poison the worms, Paul just threatens to nuke the spice fields with his family atomics. When he does that, the Emperor says something like 'You've gone insane!', but no-one chips in to explain that, in fact, if he destroys the spice, the Guild can no longer navigate space, the Imperium will fall, and most of humanity dies due to the end of interstellar trade. This is the dilemma! The jihad claiming billions of lives vs. terraforming Dune claiming *literally all the lives*.

What was needed for the final shots of Dune was something like - of all things - the denouement of Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog. We should see the Fremen rampaging across the universe; ships burning; the shot from the vision of Paul looking out over Caladan, his again; Giedi Prime getting bombed into ashes - just to provoke us to think 'well, they liked violent gladiatorial games, but did they *really* deserve to die en masse because of what the Baron did?'. And then we cut to Paul on the Emperor's throne, looking shocked and hollow. He, like Dr Horrible, gets 'Everything (He) Ever Wanted', and it will haunt him forever. We grasp the cyclical nature of power - Paul Atreides, the exile turned revolutionary and mystic, is back on top - the very, very top, replacing the Sardaukar with his *own* brutal shock troops from a wasteland world. We needed to see that, and other than a few visions, we don't. Instead, we finish with what might, optimistically, be the message 'the traditional Fremen life will go on'? 'Sisters are doing it for themselves'? 'A woman needs a man like a fish needs a desert'? 'You can't please everyone all of the time'? In-pardon my language, fucking-scusable.

All of this means I think there's definitely room for a different Dune at an appropriate distance in time once Villeneuve's series - however long it runs, and God-Emperor is looking like a possibility - concludes. I have suggested an animated film or series as something very different from the existing adaptations, possibly leaning into precognition as the conceit, and after viewing Villeneuve's Part Two I think I've worked out how to do it.

The first scene in the book is someone - we don't see faces - being administered the Water of Life. We then cut to the dunes and the muad'dib mouse, and then it becomes clear we are watching it from the perspective of Paul and Chani.

They discuss the mouse on the moon and Paul decides that his name 'will be Muad'Dib'. Paul then awakens years earlier on Caladan. At about the two-thirds mark, Jessica takes the Water of Life but begins seizing. She sees herself drowning deep under an endless blue ocean. Paul says 'I can't reach where you are' and impulsively drinks the Water of Life himself; as Chani holds onto him he reaches out and holds his mother's hand and we see in the now shared vision that he swims down into the ocean, grabs her hand, and pulls her up. When they surface he experiences the rest of the vision, and then, awakening, says "I saw it all - I was back on Caladan; I saw us travel to Arrakis for the first time - but I also saw Baron Harkonnen; I saw him plotting with the Emperor - Shaddam! The Emperor is behind the downfall of our family". The entire first two-thirds of the movie *is* the Water of Life experience. Paul has watched the entire movie so far and for the rest of the film knows everything we, the audience, have seen, and more.

In general, Villeneuve's Dune is still probably one of the most striking and solid sci-fi films in recent decades. It is not as clearly stand-alone as I think reviewers have been prone to claim - much like the Lynch version which infamously issued a physical guide for cinema-goers to consult to understand the universe, Villeneuve's Dune does not clearly establish some of the book's most distinctive elements.

You might reasonably assume that the shields are why this universe relies so heavily on hand-to-hand combat - but why so few lasguns? (because in the book, hitting a shield with a lasgun obliterates both parties).

Why do the Harkonnen and Sardaukar feel so much weaker in the desert? Because shields act like a thumper and call worms.

(Note: This was in fact mentioned in the first film.)

Why do some people roll their eyes and do mental maths? They're mentats, human calculators. Why do they exist, and why are there no robots in this oddly run-down, primitive-feeling future? Because a thousand years ago a war called the Butlerian Jihad resulted in the absolute prohibition of thinking machines everywhere in the Imperium (it's bizarre this wasn't mentioned given AI is such a hot topic).

By the end of the second film you've also forgotten that the spice is vital for space travel (why? because it makes Navigators able to see the future, something Villeneuve has decided to emphasise only applies to Paul, and thus able to predict where a hyperspace jump will lead).

The Harkonnen were I think handled the worst of the characters, which isn't new. Skarsgard's Baron is overall acceptable and Rabban has decent menace, but he and Feyd Rautha suffer from the Lynchian 'kill your underlings' brain bug which no longer makes villains feel scary, and the random lurid elements Villeneuve has invented (gimp spiders, child slaves, cannibal prostitutes) feel just as over-the-top as the disfigured 1984 Baron pulling his servants' heart plugs for fun. The decision to make them all pasty bald troglodytes speaks to a fear to present villains as anything more than interchangeable cannon fodder lest, perhaps, the audience find them too compelling? The Fremen suffer from weird racial politics (a need to cast for diversity applied, we notice, most diligently to the desert-dwelling tribesmen, but coupled with the apparent desire to make them darker when you're meant to find them scary, which feels distinctly un-progressive) and the Corrinos from limited screen time. The Atreides in the first film felt most like a believable future society, while the glimpses we got at the Spacing Guild seemed intriguing, with their Daft Punk helmets, but were never followed through.

#dune

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golbrocklovely · 2 years

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Ive been in the fandom since the vine days and let me just say that I don’t understand why Sam has never been shipped with ANYONE except Colby pre-Katrina. They would go to these creator things and it was always what viner is next to Colby, never Sam. There was one girl who was their friend and waaay cuddlier with Sam but people only saw Colby. Even before he introduced kat you’d catch her in the back of peoples videos and postings and people suspected but didnt care. Once he did introduce her people didnt like her, but again the attention wasnt as big until they moved into the traphouse because he barely showed her at all. I know Sam is closed off but i feel he hold more tea than Colby so can we manifest chaos from Sam lol because what is that boy really about.

idk if this will make sense, but the air of mystery that colby seems to have is actually very much present with sam. sam is mysterious, colby just claims to be, you know what i mean? while a lot of the stuff i know about colby isn't the full story, i can at least maybe piece some stuff together, make some assumptions that sound close to reality, and come up with a non-canon version of him in my head, so to speak. but sam…. different ball game. that man is a phantom. you don't see him coming or going. i know literally nothing about him, and it is quite infuriating.

that being said, i don't even know what chaotic sam would look like. cause even drunk sam isn't that crazy. sure, he dances on tables or joins twerking competitions mid-cruise, but none of that is really all that crazy. i was saying this to someone not too long ago, but i don't even think that man has done any hard drugs. like, the worse drug he's probably taken is when he broke his back. i don't think this man even smokes weed! he's probably tried it once or twice, but like… that's it.

i know you're more asking about his dating life, but if i were to make an assumption about his overall personal life: i think sam is closed off bc he doesn't know who he is. i think he's never really been in touch with his emotions, which is something he's tweeted about a couple times before, and bc of that he doesn't really know how to express himself. i think he wants others to like him a lot, so for years he's tried to fit in a box that marks off what ppl expect from him. and when he himself grows tired of that box, he tries to find a new one that fits the newer image ppl want him to be.

i think that's why sometimes some of the things he says can seem a bit out of place. like prime example is when he's talked about wanting to move to mexico and just go learn the language naturally, or just randomly leave and go to a different country and surround himself in the culture. while those are great aspirations to have, he never includes colby or kat in those travels. he's doing them solo, without them. and that feels… weird. or in the worst way, selfish. bc we're so used to him being in a duo situation, whether it's snc or him and kat. he's always with someone. and we've been told again and again that he's a good friend and he's a good boyfriend. but a good friend or boyfriend wouldn't just up and leave their best friend or girlfriend behind. but, i don't think in these situations he's being selfish. i think this is him actually expressing himself for the first time outside of the box we think he checks off.

weirdly, and i was just thinking about this as i was writing this out, while colby loves being by himself and getting his alone time away from ppl, he can't actually be alone. he wouldn't be able to survive being completely alone. i mean, even just living in a different apartment almost sent him into a hermit spiral. that man wouldn't get off his couch for days sometimes, and that in itself is a topic for a whole other ask. but sam, i legitimately believe, could go live on his own away from everyone he cares about and be fine. i honestly think if he did that, it might put a lot of things into perspective for him. maybe he realize how deeply he cares for the ppl around him, or how maybe their opinions matter more than the others he's been trying to please.

and as for his love life, prior to kat of course, idk. that's even more shrouded in mystery than his actual personality so… god knows what he was like.

#ask #personal #sam golbach

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unhewn · 3 months

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Irenaeus, Marcion & Hades

Description of Marcion's Belief Against Heresies, Book I, Chapter 27, Section 3 https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/0103127.htm

Salvation will be the attainment only of those souls which had learned his doctrine; while the body, as having been taken from the earth, is incapable of sharing in salvation. In addition to his blasphemy against God Himself, he advanced this also, truly speaking as with the mouth of the devil, and saying all things in direct opposition to the truth — that Cain, and those like him, and the Sodomites, and the Egyptians, and others like them, and, in fine, all the nations who walked in all sorts of abomination, were saved by the Lord, on His descending into Hades, and on their running unto Him, and that they welcomed Him into their kingdom. But the serpent which was in Marcion declared that Abel, and Enoch, and Noah, and those other righteous men who sprang from the patriarch Abraham, with all the prophets, and those who were pleasing to God, did not partake in salvation. For since these men, he says, knew that their God was constantly tempting them, so now they suspected that He was tempting them, and did not run to Jesus, or believe His announcement: and for this reason he declared that their souls remained in Hades.

Refutation of Marcion Against Heresies (Book IV, Chapter 8) https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/0103408.htm

Vain, too, is [the effort of] Marcion and his followers when they [seek to] exclude Abraham from the inheritance, to whom the Spirit through many men, and now by Paul, bears witness, that he believed God, and it was imputed unto him for righteousness. And the Lord [also bears witness to him,] in the first place, indeed, by raising up children to him from the stones, and making his seed as the stars of heaven, saying, They shall come from the east and from the west, from the north and from the south, and shall recline with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven; and then again by saying to the Jews, When you shall see Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and all the prophets in the kingdom of heaven, but you yourselves cast out. This, then, is a clear point, that those who disallow his salvation, and frame the idea of another God besides Him who made the promise to Abraham, are outside the kingdom of God, and are disinherited from [the gift of] incorruption, setting at naught and blaspheming God, who introduces, through Jesus Christ, Abraham to the kingdom of heaven, and his seed, that is, the Church, upon which also is conferred the adoption and the inheritance promised to Abraham.

Fragment on the Descent Irenaeus, Fragments, Fragment 28 https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/0134.htm

And the man of God said, Where did it fall? And he showed him the place. And he cut down a tree, and cast it in there, and the iron floated. This was a sign that souls should be borne aloft through the instrumentality of wood, upon which He suffered who can lead those souls aloft that follow His ascension. This event was also an indication of the fact, that when the holy soul of Christ descended [to Hades], many souls ascended and were seen in their bodies. For just as the wood, which is the lighter body, was submerged in the water; but the iron, the heavier one, floated: so, when the Word of God became one with flesh, by a physical and hypostatic union, the heavy and terrestrial [part], having been rendered immortal, was borne up into heaven, by the divine nature, after the resurrection.

Additional Reading:

Alexander of Alexandria, Epistles on Arianism and the Deposition of Arius

Origen, Contra Celsum, Book 3, Chapter 43

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thekaijudude · 9 months

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Blazar feels incomplete. I really do like the concept of a primitive ultra but I also feel blazar would be better off with an actual plot and overarching villain (maybe Blazar's God is an evil more advanced subspecies), more flashbacks on Blazar's planet and evolution of whatever lead to his Ultra race would be cool. Rn the show has the pieces but it feels like a burning fire is missing. What would you add for a plotline?

Quite a few people I talked to share similar sentiments as you

Tho I would argue that the series dosent even have pieces that could be linked at all

Cause literally nothing is going on since everything gets started and resolved by the end of the episode with no lasting consequences or implications. Like theres no expected climax, no building up to anything, and literally nothing is happening which makes each episode feels like the series is just going nowhere at all, where each episode after ep 2 feels like a brand new ep 3 after SKaRD is established, rinse and repeat

Theres literally no sense of direction in this series

But we do have similar thoughts on how it shouldve went as Ive also posted before here that since a new unique ultra origin has been introduced (M421), Id rather learn more about that and specifically about Blazar himself since everything else has literally no relevance beyond his own series. So, Blazar's own characterization, character development, and delving into M421 are strong, substantial points they shouldve went into.

(Tho I think they would be going into Blazar's God at some point since the uchuusen magazine bothered to point this fact out)

Rn theyre treating the Blazar series as an early Heisei series, that being every human character operates as if the titular Ultra dosent even exist until the last 8 mins of every episode (rmb when the Chief of Staff told Gento to investigate whether Blazar needs to be exterminated? Yeah no one remembers cause not even the show does)

Theyre basically treating the Ultra as a plot device rather than an actual character

So what I would first do is to treat Blazar as an actual character by having him being able to communicate somewhat with Gento and/or him trying to figure out where he was and learning about his new surroundings. And vice versa Gento actually carrying out his main mission to actively learn about Blazar

And this ties in with the information we got that Blazar did come from a black hole, but since he was later then also revealed to come from M421, I suspect that Blazar was trying to flee from something that caused him to take desperate measures to escape from it by jumping into a Black Hole, therefore ending up in another universe.

This character would then be the main antagonist. Tho, in order for it to be an overarching villain, the plot should be more complicated and involve more characters, but its just that the plot setting thus far dosent really allow for more interesting nor more complex plot developments, otherwise, even if u have a main antagonist, youll only be able to hear about only in the last 3 episodes or so (like X)

So imo, I would totally revamp the entire plot premise and have Blazar's species involved in some form of 3-way, large-scale battle involving 3 parties, Blazar's species, another primitive race of ultras, and a primitive kaiju species (might be a territorial dispute or its simply just a normal hunter-hunted type of conflict). Where both Blazar and the rival are stranded on Gento's earth while fighting so they both are recuperating and hiding from the kaiju species (Blazar's original form did not have the red and blue stripes, so that could be a hint that Blazar was injured), so for the first half of the series, Blazar has to deal with lesser versions of said kaiju species invading earth due to the spillover along with frequent fights with said rival

This eventually builds up to a final showdown between the both of them as the mid-series climax. But before either could deal the finishing blow, a greater (or Alpha) version of said kaiju shows up and interrupts the fight, forcing them both to band together to defeat it, with them ending up finally realizing that their tribes alone are far too weak to stand against the said kaiju race and they needed to band together to actually stand a chance (this revelation might not come right away but this should have them start thinking in this direction)

Then the 2nd half would cover the process of them forging their bonds and overcoming specialized versions of said greater kaiju until they inevitably encounter a final series boss level (An Apex?) version of it. And after finally defeating it, they both return to their own universe to aim to show their respective tribes on what they found and convince them to actually come to peace as its only a matter of time before both tribes gets eradicated by said kaiju species.

This is simple enough to fit within a single series and stay grounded as a series thats taking place on Earth which also serves as a gateway to the larger perspective of what M421 is going through rn which subsequent installments can delve into further

(I honestly already thought of how the movie plot could build up upon the series, various spin-offs as well as even how eventually it could tie into the meta plot of the Absolutians)

Thanks for the question!

#ultraman #asks #ultraman blazar

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danepopfrippery · 1 year

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Oh i can go off on this

I had a childhood friend who grew up ‘born to republican’. Before 2012 my take was what u do u should conclude yourself. Then she needed welfare, and got screwed on school loans, and had her child taken away…by the time trump was running she was out to the horror of her mother. Iowa is def still ‘well my fam is so i am and how dare u even question that’ (like they just assume ur republican). I told my gma i feel less safe here than say Chicago cuz i cant even put the bumperstickers i want (i got chased in florida for a pro planned parenthood sticker)

As for dating when i was young and heavily set in my beliefs (im even more so now gurl ill be an anarchist by 40). The guys who hit on me despite lack of social cues always declared libertarian.

In LA outside of most circles i assume u liberal. And then i was introduced to a latino guy who i really vibed with…and was a born republican but ‘hates trump’ (2016). I knew itd never work and he wouldnt write me back after finding i wasnt changing (he knew that before he started up, he also had some weird jebus hang ups.)

So i held a torch for this guy, like the chemistry was nuts and i wondered what became of him. He was never online and now he is. First he tweeted a drooly trump sighting post. Ew. Any hope? Nope found out hes an anti vaxxer after his mother died of what i suspect was covid from his tweets (he knew i was immunocompromised and what that meant pre covid).

Blocked him, mourned it, and will never make an exception again even if i find myself rubbing up on the guy from chemistry. I have a trans nephew, im disabled (invisibly), and i wont even entertain anyone not pro choice. There is no republican man for me (thus why ive been an incel since i moved here, nvm the men all look like bobby hill which is not my scene)

#fuck republicans #fuck racists #pro choice #liberal af #dating #friendship

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choco-milktea · 2 years

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2.28.22

the first interaction that day i was alone at my usual area. from the corner of my eye i saw him approach and i waved erratically at him with both hands and he asked me whats new with me i think? i should really remember these things, or maybe try writing it down immediately after the interaction

then i asked “i thought you said your flight was tuesday morning.” he confirmed it was at 8am and so i asked, “what are you doing here? you’re going to go right after work?”

he said something about going home and not sleeping again. then proceeded to talk about his day. its so interesting how talkative he can get. i didnt ask but he went on a strange tangent about what he did instead of sleeping. maybe its due to sleep deprivation?

anyway he said something about playing some guitar, something about playing a new tune together along with some fast paced, upbeat thing ive never heard of before. then he said something about making some recordings? or something like that? i guess he makes music??? idk i didnt ask, i got a little hung up on the fact he plays guitar at all

gosh so anyway he said something about playing so much that he got a blister on one of his fingers. he showed it to me and i boldly just went ahead and felt it LMAO. idk i was curious to see if he actually had callouses. the tips of his fingers were surprisingly soft

anyway i sat back and then for some strange freaking reason i asked to see again. i felt his fingers again LMAO and he didnt seem to mind, just raised his hand to me again. it just didnt feel like callouses. i wonder if i hurt his blister lol

anyway i was like “i didnt know you play guitar”

he said something about how hes been playing since he was 14 and im like??? did he mention it and i just discarded the thought cuz im sick of guitar??? LMAO

so anyway, i ask “wait, i thought you play violin. or was that someone else? did i not remember right?”

then he said something about how he also played violin but its been a long time. i just kinda stared into space as i thought about the fact he plays instruments. and honestly the moment was just weird in terms of ...idk socialization

so he walks away to do some work supposedly and i just call after him that i prefer violin more. he doesnt respond, and idk if he even heard me but it doesnt matter, this new info is not supposed to affect me

so throughout the day he sees me training the new hire and i try to avoid contact with him. my attempts to make things less awkward are always futile

anyway i had been introducing the new hire to as many people as possible as the opportunity arises. he saw me introducing the new hire to a mutual friend, or as least im 90% sure he did. so when he passed i introduced them. i said “hes the tech ...on the old side...i think?” he glanced at me as i said that and said something like “idk, im everywhere” kinda exasperatedly. i smiled and nodded and said, “he doesn’t even know where he is” teasingly

then he walked past and i heard him say “i forgot where im going” as he began in the wrong direction

i laughed and said “see?”

i couldnt help but ponder on that moment. i wonder if i affected him that much that i made him distracted and forget his task. but ik he was also tired and sleep deprived. theres always so many variables factored into our interactions

anyway he returned from putting up the chart and put both his hands on my shoulders and i felt him lean close to me saying “im so proud of you. you’re training.”

to which i responded, “shut up” he didnt respond and kept walking as usual. i hope i didnt make it obvious. my new hire didnt seem to suspect anything when i glanced at her

so anyway i had accepted to do overtime that night and my trainee left eventually. at one point i remember seeing him sitting on a chair and when i glanced over to see why, i think i saw him looking at me. i looked away and pretended to keep working in whatever room i was in. i hid behind my computer when i returned to my area

i think thats all that happened that night. i left with my mutual friend walking me to my car

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butterflies-dragons · 3 years

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Do you have any doubts that Sansa is the girl in grey? Is there strong grey imagery around Sansa?

I believe Sansa is the grey girl yes, but only GRRM has that answer.

About grey imagery around Sansa, I wrote about it here and there.

Grey is the main Stark color. Their sigil is a grey direwolf in a white field. Stark men wear grey cloaks, Winterfell is made of grey granite, Grey eyes is a Stark feature, etc.

There are some instances where Sansa actually wears or it is said that she will wear a grey cloak:

1.- Her first encounter with Dontos (false Florian) in the Red Keep's Godswood: "Sansa threw a plain grey cloak over her shoulders and picked up the knife she used to cut her meat. If it is some trap, better that I die than let them hurt me more, she told herself. She hid the blade under her cloak."

It is very curious that Dontos was also wearing grey during that first secret encounter: "He wore a dark grey robe with the cowl pulled forward, but when a thin sliver of moonlight touched his cheek, she knew him at once by the blotchy skin and web of broken veins beneath. "Ser Dontos," she breathed, heartbroken. "Was it you?"

2.- Cersei gave her a white and silver maiden cloak for her wedding to Tyrion. Stark colors are grey and white tho... I think in this case the silver is there instead of the grey of House Stark. I'm not sure if this is a mistake or not. "Cersei Lannister ignored the question. "The cloak," she commanded, and the women brought it out: a long cloak of white velvet heavy with pearls. A fierce direwolf was embroidered upon it in silver thread. Sansa looked at it with sudden dread. "Your father's colors," said Cersei, as they fastened it about her neck with a slender silver chain."

Curiously enough, Tyrion wore Targaryen colors to marry Sansa lol

3.- Littlefinger planned for Alayne to reveal her true identity as Sansa Stark wearing a maiden cloak with the Stark colors grey and white: "Jon Arryn's bannermen will never love me, nor our silly, shaking Robert, but they will love their Young Falcon . . . and when they come together for his wedding, and you come out with your long auburn hair, clad in a maiden's cloak of white and grey with a direwolf emblazoned on the back . . . why, every knight in the Vale will pledge his sword to win you back your birthright.

From my answer about certain ship foreshadowing:

What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister?

In the shadow of the Wall, the direwolf brushed up against his fingers. For half a heartbeat the night came alive with a thousand smells, and Jon Snow heard the crackle of the crust breaking on a patch of old snow. Someone was behind him, he realized suddenly. Someone who smelled warm as a summer day. When he turned he saw Ygritte. She stood beneath the scorched stones of the Lord Commander’s Tower, cloaked in darkness and in memory. The light of the moon was in her hair, her red hair kissed by fire. When he saw that, Jon’s heart leapt into his mouth. “Ygritte,” he said. “Lord Snow.” The voice was Melisandre’s. Surprise made him recoil from her. “Lady Melisandre.” He took a step backwards. “I mistook you for someone else.” At night all robes are grey. Yet suddenly hers were red. He did not understand how he could have taken her for Ygritte. She was taller, thinner, older, though the moonlight washed years from her face. Mist rose from her nostrils, and from pale hands naked to the night. “You will freeze your fingers off,” Jon warned. “If that is the will of R’hllor. Night’s powers cannot touch one whose heart is bathed in god’s holy fire.” “You heart does not concern me. Just your hands.” “The heart is all that matters. Do not despair, Lord Snow. Despair is a weapon of the enemy, whose name may not be spoken. Your sister is not lost to you.” “I have no sister.” The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister? Melisandre seemed amused. “What is her name, this little sister that you do not have?” “Arya.” His voice was hoarse. “My half-sister, truly …” “… for you are bastard born. I had not forgotten. I have seen your sister in my fires, fleeing from this marriage they have made for her. Coming here, to you. A girl in grey on a dying horse, I have seen it plain as day. It has not happened yet, but it will.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon VI

Earlier in this chapter, Jon was thinking about Arya and her situation (trapped with the Boltons), and he was frustrated for not being able to help her. Then he remembered Ygritte, he confused Melisandre for Ygritte.

So, reading all the context:

What do you know of my heart, priestess? = This is about Ygritte. He is still hurt and mourning for her.

What do you know of my sister? = This is about Arya and her situation.

This is an excellent example of how GRRM plays with our minds with his tricky words:

“At night all robes are grey. Yet suddenly hers were red”. He is introducing us to the Grey Girl and her true identity.

Jon thinks he is seeing Ygritte but he was actually seeing Melissandre.

Melisandre and Jon also believe this grey girl of the visions is Arya Stark, but the person trapped with the Boltons is Jeyne Poole. And later, Alys Karstark was not even wearing a “grey” cloak.

For me the grey girl is neither of them. The answer is hidden in this line: “At night all robes are grey. Yet suddenly hers were red”.

***

"At night all robes are grey" means all the confusion about the grey girl's true identity: Arya or Jeyne or Alys Karstark.

"Yet suddenly hers were red" means that the girl with the grey cloak will be a redhead, like Ygritte and Melisandre the two women Jon was confusing.

So, Sansa as the grey girl makes a lot of sense, she is a redhead and she is a Stark, and grey is the main Stark color.

And this is not the first time that Jon confused Ygritte with another female. Jon dreamed of a ghastly grey direwolf wandering around the Crypts of Winterfell, that seems to be Lady’s Shade:

The crypts were growing darker. A light has gone out somewhere. “Ygritte?” he whispered. “Forgive me. Please.” But it was only a direwolf, grey and ghastly, spotted with blood, his her golden eyes shining sadly through the dark . .

—A Storm of Swords - Jon VIII

Despite Jon assuming the direwolf was a "he," I strongly suspect it was Lady's Shade. Lady is buried at Winterfell, not Grey Wind. Lady was beheaded with Ice, so her fur would be spotted with blood. And Lady was said to have sad eyes.

So, Jon is always confusing Ygritte with another redheads...

From my Dunk & Jon meta:

Maybe I’m seeing too much here, but the reference to Alysanne Osgrey [Os-Grey] makes me think of Sansa Stark, because:

Sansa shared a lot of parallels with Good Queen Alysanne.

The surname Osgrey has the word grey in it.

Alysanne Osgrey became a Silent Sister.

Silent Sisters always wear grey.

Silent Sisters are known as the Stranger’s wives.

According to Melissandre, the Grey Girl of her visions is Jon Snow’s Sister.

The Grey Girl will probably be Sansa Stark.

Grey is also the color of House Stark, so Sansa is, in a way, a Grey Girl.

Jon is a man that will defeat death and come back to life, like the Stranger that walks between the two worlds.

The Stranger’s face is half animal, like Jon who is a warg, half man and half beast.

From my Jon/Sansa/Winterfell meta:

The stone is strong = The walls of Winterfell = Alayne Stone = Sansa Stark.

Sansa Stark has a lot of stone imagery around her.

Winterfell’s walls are made of grey granite. Grey is also a color of House Stark and I believe that Sansa will be the girl in grey on a dying horse from Melisandre’s vision.

As the Heir to Winterfell, Sansa was practically transformed into a stone castle, Winterfell, and the north itself, since the one that controlled her would obtain all her lands and power. Or, to use the euphemism from the Books, Sansa Stark was the “key to the north.”

Sansa reflects about this objectification in the Books and gives us one of the saddest lines in ASOIAF, especially coming from a girl who yearns to be loved and always dreamed of getting married: “No one will ever marry me for love,” (because everyone only wants her for her claim to Winterfell and the north).

Tyrion associates Sansa’s rejection of his advances as icy courtesy and compared that rejection with a castle wall that he never got to break:

“You hide behind courtesy as if it were a castle wall.” “Courtesy is a lady’s armor,” Sansa said. Her septa had always told her that.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa III

Sansa’s misery was deepening every day. Tyrion would gladly have broken through her courtesy to give her what solace he might, but it was no good.

—A Storm of Swords - Tyrion IV

He wanted to reach her, to break through the armor of her courtesy.

—A Storm of Swords - Tyrion VIII

The castle wall that armored Sansa and Tyrion never got to break is a clear reference to Winterfell:

He remembered Winterfell as he had last seen it. Not as grotesquely huge as Harrenhal, nor as solid and impregnable to look at as Storm’s End, yet there had been a great strength in those stones, a sense that within those walls a man might feel safe.

—A Clash of Kings - Tyrion XI

And certainly, Sansa feels stronger and protected within the walls of Winterfell:

Sansa stuck her fingers through the top, grabbed a handful of snow, and flung it full in his face. Petyr yelped, as the snow slid down under his collar. “That was unchivalrously done, my lady.” “As was bringing me here, when you swore to take me home.” She wondered where this courage had come from, to speak to him so frankly. From Winterfell, she thought. I am stronger within the walls of Winterfell.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

Sansa feeling stronger within the walls of Winterfell, sounds pretty similar to “the stone is strong” line from Bran quote cited above.

Later, while descending from the Eyrie to the Gates of the Moon, Mya Stone tells Sansa that “a stone is a mountain’s daughter.”

Men come and go. They lie, or die, or leave you. A mountain is not a man, though, and a stone is a mountain’s daughter. I trust my father, and I trust my mules. I won’t fall.” She put her hand on a jagged spur of rock, and got to her feet. “Best finish. We have a long way yet to go, and I can smell a storm.”

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

One of Winterfell’s possible meanings is “wintry mountain(s).” And Sansa Stark is “The northern girl. Winterfell’s daughter”.

As the daughter of Petyr Baelish, Alayne Stone also becomes the Heir to Harrenhal, another great castle made of strong stone. Only dragon fire was able to melt Harrenhal’s stone walls:

Stone does not burn, Harren had boasted, but his castle was not made of stone alone. […] And even stone will crack and melt if a fire is hot enough. The riverlords outside the castle walls said later that the towers of Harrenhal glowed red against the night, like five great candles… and like candles, they began to twist and melt, as runnels of molten stone ran down their sides.

—The World of Ice and Fire - The Reign of the Dragons: The Conquest

Moreover we have the parallels that Sansa shares with Jenny of Oldstones. And Oldstones serves us as an example of the strength of the stone.

Just like Winterfell was the stronghold of the ancient Kings of Winter, Oldstones was the stronghold of the ancient River Kings (House Mudd of Oldstones), both dynasties descendants of the First Men. And if we read about Oldstones, thinking about Winterfell is an inevitability:

They reached Oldstones after eight more days of steady rain, and made their camp upon the hill overlooking the Blue Fork, within a ruined stronghold of the ancient river kings. Its foundations remained amongst the weeds to show where the walls and keeps had stood, but the local smallfolk had long ago made off with most of the stones to raise their barns and septs and holdfasts. Yet in the center of what once would have been the castle’s yard, a great carved sepulcher still rested, half hidden in waist-high brown grass amongst a stand of ash. The lid of the sepulcher had been carved into a likeness of the man whose bones lay beneath, but the rain and the wind had done their work. The king had worn a beard, they could see, but otherwise his face was smooth and featureless, with only vague suggestions of a mouth, a nose, eyes, and the crown about the temples. His hands folded over the shaft of a stone warhammer that lay upon his chest. Once the warhammer would have been carved with runes that told its name and history, but all that the centuries had worn away. The stone itself was cracked and crumbling at the corners, discolored here and there by spreading white splotches of lichen, while wild roses crept up over the king’s feet almost to his chest.

—A Storm of Swords - Catelyn V

Despite the pass of time the foundations of Oldstones remained and the stones were even used by the smallfolk to rise new buildings. The stone is really strong.

What also remained despite the centuries was the tomb of King Tristifer IV Mudd, also known as the Hammer of Justice, which immediately reminds me of the crypts of Winterfell and its stone kings sitting on their thrones with their swords across their laps.

And just like songs are still sung about a girl named Jenny from Oldstones who found true love with a Targaryen prince, I’m pretty sure that many songs will be sung about Sansa Stark from Winterfell and her own Targaryen prince.

Finally, is worth mentioning that Stark means “strong” in German. And there’s a theory about House Strong (extinguished) being linked to House Stark.

Stone = Strong = Stark

So by saying the stone is strong, we are also saying the stone is Stark.

Alayne Stone is Sansa Stark.

***

There you have it.

Thanks for your message ♡

#sansa stark #jonsa #anon asks

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camgirlkaminari · 3 years

Text

so ive been thinking for a while now how bonkers it is that ochako has a floatation quirk and an almost identical hairstyle to inko midoriya, and now that we're closing in on deku mastering all 7 ofa quirks, I can't stop thinking that nana, a woman who has been textually compared to inko midoriya, ALSO had a floatation quirk. i wanna ramble about it a little bit:

inko's first introduction to the comic is her telling us that she can float small objects toward herself:

she's an older generation, so her quirk isn't all that powerful compared to the kids' quirks. this is apparent when ochako comes into play and can float much larger objects, but with less control over their trajectory. i think we're not ever meant to compare the two characters' quirks, since ochako is more powerful, and can also float herself. even further, inko doesn't seem to suffer any consequences for using her floatation quirk, but since we are only shown her using it once, there's no way to know.

(i find inko to be such a strange character. she spends so much time crying and being deku's mom that we forget that she is her own person. she's married. she has a quirk. what's her job? how does she pay the bills? how did she meet her fire breathing husband? does she have parents of her own? we know so much more about everyone else's parents than we even know about the main character's mom! this feels so deliberate, even beyond the fact that we are all wondering if deku's dad is somehow ~a villain~. like I don't care about deku's dad! what's up with his fucking mom!!)

so now we're so focused on ochako's journey to mastering her quirk and learning how to float herself in addition to huge objects that we almost forget how similar to inko she started out: her hair, her face, her kindness, her strength.

spoilers ahead:

now, like 150 chapters later, we learn about nana shimura's quirk: float. deku knows what's coming, so he asks his friend ochako, who can float, for pointers on floating. this is excellent strategy, deku! good call! you don't know anyone else who can float themselves so you learn from ochako!

meanwhile, absolutely NO MENTION of how 'hey, my mom can float stuff too! weird coincidence!' despite him remembering all might's comparison of nana to his mother.

all of this leads me to have a few theories about the nature of afo & ofa, the relationship between ochako, nana, inko, and deku, and the major themes of legacy in bnha.

theory one: Gramps For All

there's a massive theme in bnha of grandchildren of importance. first, we learn that tomura shiguraki is the grandson of nana shimura, a pro hero, one of the three factions warring for a place in post-quirk society. then we learn Eri is an instance of this: she's the granddaughter of an equally influential player. The comatose boss of the yakuza, one of the three factions warring for a place in post-quirk society.

there's all kinds of legacies in bnha: shouto, the son of the number 1 hero, a direct victim of hero society. iida, the younger brother of a hero who was victimized by a villain hell-bent on changing hero society. hawks, the son of a serial killer, a victim who perpetuates the cycle of victimization in the name of upholding hero society. all these legacies, but we don't know anything about their extended families. what are endeavor's parents like? were iida's grandparents pro heroes too? does hawks really have no other family?

and where are deku's grandparents? did they ever watch him while his single mom was working?

my theory is that afo is not dad for one, but actually gramps for one. he had children, more than one, and they each had their own children. inko is one of them, and izuku is the resulting child.

deku, grandson of all for one, one of the three factions warring for a place in post-quirk society. eri, shiguraki, and deku, each representing the groups most affected by post-quirk society: yakuza, "villains," and "heroes."

theory two: ochako & deku are cousins

why the hell does ochako look so much like inko midoriya and NOT her parents?

(in the anime, they look a lot like her, but in the manga...)

gramps for one had children, more than one, and they each had their own children.

i think that ochako may be adopted, or one of her parents is, or perhaps even inko was, so ochako's connection to biological relations is distant or non existent. she may not even know. we've seen that horikoshi doesn't make character design mistakes, and he's gotta realize that every time he draws deku & ochako in the same scene that he's drawn the same face twice.

so either he's trying to throw us off, or he's making a grander statement about who they are. he's a fan of star wars- he's already done a reverse of "I am your father" with touya & endeavor, so I think it would be interesting if he's set up this ochako/deku thing as a fun homage to luke/leia, too. but they're cousins, not twins.

(that's just deku times two, babey!)

inko, unconnected to her family as she seems, may never know if she had siblings or half-siblings. ochako's parents may never have known about ochako's biological relations.

this is a much weaker theory, but i think quirk singularity theory can make some sense of it. we have the original float quirk user, nana shimura. I don't think she is related in any way to inko or ochako, but her quirk helps demonstrate the generational growth of power. she was a hero before all might, meaning she's an earlier generation and had an arguably weaker quirk. but since she was a hero, she honed her quirk so that it comes across as incredibly strong, however she seems to have only been able to float herself, not objects or people.

float quirk user number two, inko midoriya, who can float small objects toward herself. she's the next generation after nana, so her quirk is still kind of weak, and in fact looks incredibly weak compared to nana's and ochako's quirks. inko is a nobody, not a hero, just deku's mom. she had no reason to hone her quirk. who knows? maybe if she'd gone on to be a hero, she could float entire buildings if she wanted to.

float quirk user three, ochako uraraka. ochako can float objects AND herself. she's a hero and a strategist, and incredibly strong despite being 16. she can float pieces of buildings and people and herself all at once. she's a hero. she's powerful. she's thoughtful & kind, yet willful and strong. she's the ultimate culmination of the other floatation quirks as well as inko & nana's personalities. but since we were introduced to these three float quirks all out of order, it's difficult to see the exponential power growth that happens each successive generation.

I don't think that ochako's ever going to be a major player in the end of all for one, or even the plot overall, but i think the THEME of ochako being the ultimate floatation hero in the series is a major player in the final story. ochako REPRESENTS the singularity. the generation after ochako will be so strong, perhaps her descendants would be able to negate all gravity in the vicinity, maybe on the planet. who knows! even if ochako isn't related to deku, let's say dechako happens, they have babies. that's a lot of float quirk in one couple! their kids are gonna have no bones! no muscle development because they never have to fight gravity! ochako's existence represents such a huge, yet nearly invisible thematic element of bnha.

tldr: ochako looks exactly like inko and has a cumulative float quirk reminiscent of both inko & nana, and i suspect the parallels between the three is deliberate for some reason. i just think that's neat.

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missmonsters2 · 4 years

Text

Between the Lines || X

PAIRING: Steve Rogers & Fem!Reader (Platonic) / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader / Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Vampire AU. Life has changed drastically since the 1600s. Things are always on the move, and you’ve been very careful to not get on SHIELDs radar. Living on the down-low owning a café, you’re content to live out a quiet existence. That is until the Avengers enter your life.

[Set after the New York Invasion, in CAWS, and goes up to AoU. Canon divergent after.]

Warnings: This series will contain smut(**), poly-relationship, and dark themes.

Note: Oof I came back and DELIVERED 👏👏 it’s really long I’m sorry. I legit said we’re ending this arc today LOL

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V || PART VI || PART VII || PART VIII || PART IX

PART X of XX

Count: 11,007

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

There's something about the way the golden sky hits the horizon of this quiet countryside field.

It's quiet.

At least in comparison to the city.

You like the tall grass that surrounds the stand-alone home. The air is cleaner, crisper. There's a serene peace that settles in the area, and it makes you nostalgic for things you haven't had.

You can hear children running around inside, and the sink running in the kitchen along with food sizzling. Looking over at Natasha, there's a softness that has fallen over her face, a look you're somewhat familiar with, but in a different context.

This might be home for her, too, you realize.

"A safe house?" Tony tilts his head as everyone stares at the farmhouse.

"Let's hope," Clint mutters as everyone enters into the house. "Honey, I'm home!"

You tilt your head, curious when the woman you assume to be Clint's wife walks into the kitchen. You knew she was carrying based on the conversation you overhead, but you were still surprised to find her heavily pregnant.

She was due soon.

"Hi, company," Clint says in a rush as he gives her a kiss on the cheek. "Sorry, I didn't call ahead."

"Hey," the woman replies as she kisses Clint. You hear Tony make a comment to Thor about the strangeness of this, but you were focused on her stomach.

You tilted your head as you could hear its heartbeat.

"Gentlemen and gentle...women," Clint stares at you and Natasha. "This is Laura. My wife."

"I know all your names," Laura smiles while everyone looks at her rather awkwardly because no one but Natasha, you and, David knew about her.

David seemed the most curious, but he has always loved kids and got along with them easily.

"You're due soon," he tells Laura with a smile as he sneaks around you to stand closer to inspect Laura respectfully.

"You can tell?" Laura looks down at her stomach as David nods.

"Yes," he says. "A couple months at the most."

"How can you tell?" Laura asks as you hear tiny rumbling footsteps running towards this room.

"We can smell it," David informs her.

"Incoming," Clint says, kneeling down as his son and daughter excitedly burst into the room.

"Dad!" His daughter jumps in Clint's arm. Clint picks her up as he stands and kisses his son's head.

"Tinier agents," Tony blinks at the scene while Steve looks completely flabbergasted.

"This is Lila and Cooper," Clint smiles softly.

"Did you bring Auntie Nat?" The little girl says, and Natasha turns as she smiles.

"Why don't you hug her and find out?" Natasha starts to walk while Lila runs into her arms.

Natasha picks her up with ease, holding her close as she kisses Lila on the cheek. She comes back to you and tense ever so slightly before you relax.

Of course, you spent a lot of time with Allison as you took care of her, but sometimes, being around young kids would cause just a quick flashback of the ones you couldn't save.

Natasha smiles at you, and you return it lightly.

"This is Lila," Natasha introduces you to her and then telling Lila your name.

"Is she your friend?" Lila asks as she stares at you, and Natasha laughs.

"Yes, she's...my special friend," Natasha looks at you with a smirk to which you roll your eyes gently in response.

"I like your braids," you tell Lila softly, who smiles shyly at you in thanks.

"Sorry to drop by in like this," Steve says to Laura.

"Yeah, we would've, but we were too busy not knowing you existed," Tony chirped in.

Clint smiles as he stands next to his wife and has his hand on Cooper's shoulder.

"Yeah, Fury helped me set this up and kept it off SHIELD's files. I'd like to keep it that way, I figured this is a good place to lay low."

Laura laughed suddenly, and everyone turned to see David giving family photos to her.

"Okay, as low as we can," Clint corrects.

Natasha sets down Lila as she drags you closer to Laura.

"Ah, honey, I missed you," Laura pulls Natasha into a hug before giving you a kind smile.

Your nose twitches as you get closer, and you can smell Laura's pregnancy in more detail.

"And how's little Natasha?" Natasha coos as she bends down to touch Laura's stomach gently.

"You mean Nathaniel?" David snickers and you elbow him in the rib.

"What?" Natasha says as she stands up, looking at David before she turns back to Laura.

"Sorry," Laura gives her an apologetic look that confirms what David said.

Natasha leans back down to Laura's stomach, "Traitor."

"Thor," Steve calls out.

You turn your attention as Thor leaves the house with Steve following him.

You hear Thor say how he saw something in his dream and how he won't find his answers here before flying off.

Everyone seems to have reached their limit and wants to get some rest. You, Natasha, and David decided to stay in one room since the two of you don't sleep. David said he'd be out working on a lot of other things anyways.

"Mind if I shower first?" He asks you and Natasha.

"Go for it," Natasha nods.

"If you use all the hot water, I'll kill you," you tell him, and David just pretends to look offended that you would even insinuate he would before walking off.

You could hear Clint and Laura talking in the next room where he's updating her on the mission and what he'll do once this mission is done. You try to drown it out as you turn and focus on Natasha before you.

"How are you feeling?" You ask softly as you lift your hand to her face.

Natasha presses more firmly into your hold. A part of her wishes she could feel the warmth of your actual hand, but she doesn't want to push you, and you were clearly nowhere ready to touch her with your bare hands.

It didn't stop her from fantasizing about it, though.

"Better," Natasha rasps, "I've stopped hearing the lingering voices."

You nodded, using your thumb to stroke her cheek.

"How was it?" Natasha asks, breaking the silence, and you know what she's referring to.

Slowing dropping your hand, you went to sit at the seat beside the window.

"It was..." you sighed, "I don't know. Hard."

Natasha takes a seat next to you, combing her fingers through your hair, and your eyes fluttered at the serene feeling.

"Talk to me," Natasha softly says. She knows you've probably been refraining from trying to talk about it with her after that night. You must think she may not like it.

But Natasha doesn't care about such things like that. Tatyana was a big part of your life, and even though you haven't said anything about it yet, Natasha knows Wanda will be too.

In what capacity will depend on what you'll allow, what you think Natasha will allow.

"I suppose...I didn't expect her to look so much like Tatyana," you smile weakly. "Looking at her is like nearly looking at a spitting image. Pietro has similar features, being twins, but it's easier to ignore that he's a descendant."

Natasha nods, understanding as she continues to comb through your hair.

"I'm still working on confirming something," you tell her honestly.

"And if what you suspect is true?" Natasha asks.

You purse your lips.

"Then, we have a new set of problems."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The day continues on, and everyone, for the most part, has freshened up. You leave Natasha to her own devices with showering even though earlier she had given you a look that suggested that they could save water if they showered together.

You had felt a hot liquid pool form in your lower stomach as you licked your lips.

But now was neither nor the time to engage in such activities, though you did give her a languid kiss before excusing yourself.

You could hear Tony and Steve talking--passive-aggressively arguing outside. You were about to go out to break it up when your eyes honed in on something.

"Just great," you huffed under your breath as you headed out to the field where there was a tractor.

"Thank you, Laura," a deep voice spoke as he caught your eye as you came up to them.

Laura greeted you, and you nodded in response as she slipped out to do her task.

"Maria tell you to come out here?" You asked, looking at Nick Fury.

"She thought it would be best for me to assess the situation," he shrugs. "I wanted a little word with Stark, anyways."

You shake your head. "Your words will mean nothing to him, you know."

"Then perhaps I should talk with you," Fury redirects. "I hear you're quite involved with this case."

You remain silent, not taking his bait.

"What do you suggest I do?" Fury says, curious about what you'll say.

Before you could answer, you hear Tony approaching, catching the two of you after looking at the tractor.

"Ah, Mrs. Barton, that little minx. What are the two of you doing here? Did Maria call you?" Tony asks as he turns to look at Fury.

"Artificial intelligence, you didn't even hesitate," Fury cocked his brow at Tony.

You tune out the two of them talking as you focus your attention elsewhere. You could hear Steve a little ways away, still ripping woods apart with his bare hands. Inside the house, you could hear the water being turned off, indicating that Natasha was done with her shower, and you decided you would go in soon to shower yourself before helping where you could.

"--you didn't," you catch the end of what Fury said before the man walked off, leaving you alone with the genius billionaire.

He was frustrated--annoyed, you could tell by just looking at his face. The light grimace and pinch between his eyebrow were a clear indication.

Tony catches you staring at him, looking miffed as he peers at you.

"Well, I suppose you have something to say, too, huh?" Tony mutters.

You take a long minute to stare at him, his conversation with Fury not lost on you.

"Not really," you say in the end. "Nothing I haven't already told you, anyways."

"Right, like my ego being too big, and I'm not the be-all, end-all."

You shrug. "No one is the be-all, end-all. If the world had to only rely on one man, we would've gone extinct before cavemen even had the chance to evolve."

"And I'm the man that's going to cause that," Tony persisted.

"No," you shook your head. "You know as well as I do that it was only your fear being shown to you."

"Do I?" Tony scoffed. "All I know is that I saw all my friends dead, and I caused it because I couldn't save them. Who are you to say it's not the future I saw?"

"Because she can't show you the future!" You burst at him, grimacing at your own outburst. You sigh, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose. "That's not what her power is. In the best-case scenario, she can use telepathy to read your mind to experience your memories and thoughts, and then using that to project hallucinations onto you. In the worst-case scenario, she can use her powers to alter reality to make what she wants to come true. I don't think she's there yet."

"And how do you know all that?" Tony asks, narrowing his eyes at you.

"You know that I came on this mission for my own personal reasons."

"And what? That Maximoff girl is your personal reason?"

"They both are," you tell him. "Her powers aren't entirely unfamiliar to me. Different, yes, I imagine from the scepter, but not unfamiliar."

"I don't see the difference between her powers and my future." Tony blinks at you.

You grumbled, sighing as you try to explain. "It means, dumbass, that Wanda either doesn't realize that she can alter reality or that she doesn't have enough control of her powers to do so yet. I'm betting it's a mix of the two. I felt it when I fought with her. She's chaotic, and her powers are unrefined. Because of that, she can only snoop into your mind and then send you your worst fear in the form of a hallucination. You weren't shown the future, Tony, you were emotionally exploited."

You wanted Tony to understand, not so sure why you were so concerned with it. Tony, like everyone else, was a complex person with a multitude of different faces and layers. On the surface, he was a nonchalant, cocky dickhead (though, you were also sure some of that was truly him on the inside too), but he was also someone who cared.

A lot.

And people who tend to care a lot always overdid everything to protect everything and everyone they care about.

Tony was already hurting.

And Wanda was making it worse.

It was a painful reminder that Tatyana had hurt people too, and you couldn't stop her.

"How do you know that isn't the future for sure? How can you confirm that's not my legacy?" Tony murmurs quietly, looking at the sky as if the low volume would allow him to admit his fear without you hearing.

You stare at him for a long minute, biting your tongue before you draw a long sigh that gets Tony's attention.

Tony watches you, taking off one glove, pressing your lips together as you do so.

You hold out your hand to him.

"If you tell Natasha I touched you before her, I'll break your dick."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Dinner is a pleasant affair. You had gone back into the kitchen swiftly after finishing your talk with Tony. Laura was starting to make dinner, and you let her know not to worry about you and David as the two of you don't eat.

You had taken a step out with David while everyone was bustling around before dinner. It had been a while since you last fed, and you had a feeling things were going to start happening back to back, and you needed to be prepared for it.

The two of you headed into town to the nearest hospital, compelling a nurse to bring you both a blood bag to feed on and forget.

It wasn't a lot, but it would be enough to get through the mission without damage, hopefully. You didn't want to end up taking too much from the hospital and causing a problem, even though the two of you were too far from your own stash.

It would've been better to go to a blood bank, but this town was so small they didn't have one.

You were sitting closely next to Natasha as she ate her dinner, your arm around her, and you fought the urge to hide your face into her neck.

"You should head to NEXUS in Oslo to pick up JARVIS," David tells Tony.

"Is that where he is?" Tony hums. "Smart guy to head to the fastest internet hub on the earth. I'm such a proud dad," Tony pretends to tear up.

"Great, you got one good kid and one fuck up, classic!" You say over Natasha's head while Tony scrunches his nose at you.

"Why did I come?" Fury muttered rather loudly. Seems like all the information he was bringing was already brought up by David.

"For a good time, boss. But you wouldn't happen to have anything else, would you?" Natasha pulled a piece of her bread apart.

"I have you," Fury shrugged. "We ain't got nothing but our wit and our will to save the world. So stand up and take out that platinum bastard."

"Steve doesn't like that kind of talk," Natasha teases.

"You know what, Romanoff?" Steve jokingly threatens while she smiles mischievously at him.

You had been only half-focusing on the conversation at hand, jumping in here and there to throw in remarks. You were thrumming your fingers at your side quietly.

There was something about that first night you had all encountered Ultron.

"So, what does he want?" Fury asked.

"To become better. Better than us. He keeps building bodies," Steve licked his bottom lip.

"Person bodies. We're outmoded, biologically speaking, but he keeps coming back to it," Tony leaned back in his chair.

"He wants the human race to evolve; therefore, he needs to evolve himself," Banner mused.

"I don't think evolving the human race is his goal," David muttered.

"How's he going to do that?" Fury asked.

And then it occurred to you.

"Has anyone talked to Dr. Cho?" You pursed your lips.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

There was a lot of noise as everyone was getting ready to leave the Barton household.

Thor was still out on his own, so no one held high hopes he would be coming back for this one.

"Alright, I'll head to you guys as soon as I collect JARVIS from NEXUS," Tony, lets everyone know.

"I'll take David and Banner to the Stark Tower," Fury said. " "Mind if I borrow Miss Hill?"

"All yours," Tony nodded. "What are you gonna do?"

"I don't know, something dramatic, I hope," Fury shrugs.

"Alright, everyone else goes with me," Steve attached his shield onto his back.

You nod as you stood next to Natasha.

"You know, I miss the days when I was the weirdest thing science created," Steve mused.

"What do you mean?" You looked at him with a smirk. "You still are."

"I swear to God--"

"Swearing is not good, Steve," Natasha joined in on the teasing.

"I hate you both," Steve shook his head with a good spirit.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

There was something that rubbed you the wrong way when you entered the laboratory.

Sparks from exposed wires filled the air, and you could smell blood and hear the shallow breathing of a woman.

You recognized the scent.

"Dr. Cho is in there," you say quietly for Steve to hear, and the two of you race in to see that she was sitting on the floor, resting against a cabinet as she was clutching her stomach tightly. She had blood dripping from her head and lips, but she was still alive.

"Dr. Cho!" Steve called out as he race to her, bending down to see if she was okay.

"He's uploading himself into the body," Dr. Cho heavily breathes. "You can't just destroy the cradle. You need to get it to Stark."

"I got to find it first," Steve tells her.

"Go," she nods in the direction of outside. He purses her lip at her, but she nods to let Steve know she'll be okay.

He starts to head out but then looks at you.

"I'll catch up," you say offhandedly as you bend down to assess the doctor.

She was bleeding profusely through her stomach, where Ultron shot her. Dr. Cho had done her best to stop the bleeding, but it started to soak through the cloth. You looked around to find her technicians dead, and you frowned.

"Maybe I will get your venom after all," Dr. Cho says with a smirk, bringing your attention back to her.

You cocked your brow at her with a smile. "It's quite the risqué position. I don't know if my girlfriend would like that."

"I'm sure she won't mind you helping a frail, dying girl," Dr. Cho jokes but winces in pain shortly after.

You snort at the word frail but lick your lips nonetheless. "Listen, Doc, I don't wanna catch you doing experiments on yourself after getting my venom, alright?"

She nods, and you lift her hand away along with the cloth. You lower herself down her body, feeling the venom pool in your mouth.

You hear her breath hitch, and you're not sure if it's because she's in pain. You remind yourself you need to be careful. While you could drink the blood that was pouring out from Dr. Cho, you opted not to.

Dr. Cho realized this as you were carefully licking her wound, feeling something amazing happening on her skin under your mouth as she was being healed.

"What a loyal girlfriend you are," Dr. Cho mutters.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"I'm always picking up after you boys," Natasha grunts as she Steve's shield and gives it to you to hold.

You were on your way to Steve when Natasha dropped from the sky on a motorbike, and you found yourself hopping on the back of it as she passed you.

"Seriously, Steve, I've seen people treat their trash better than how often you drop this thing," you joke.

"Little busy, guys," Steve grunts back, "wouldn't say no to some help."

As you get closer to the truck where Ultron and Steve are, you whip his shield to him, and Steve uses it to knock Ultron's arm off of him. Ultron falls, catching sight of you two and uses his power to lift a piece of the ground up to stop Natasha in her tracks.

"Go!" Natasha tells you, and you get up on the motorbike before using your strength to propel yourself onto the truck as you leap.

Ultron sees you and immediately uses his ability to manipulate gravity to launch himself towards you.

But if Pietro was too quick for him, you were just a step behind. You blur to the side, back kicking him with a brute amount of force as Ultron passed you.

The strength of the kick alone had done a lot of damage. Your foot had impaled him halfway as he passed, bolts, and gears falling out of the hole you created.

"Look at us," you look at Steve, "we're a dream team."

"I always wanted to tag team with you," Steve smiles.

"Of course you do," you say as if it was obvious, "I'm your favorite."

"Ugh!" Ultron screams as he flies into Steve's direction this time, but Steve uses the momentum to take them both into the train that was moving next to them.

You followed as you spoke into the intercom, "We're taking the party elsewhere. The truck's all yours with the surprise inside, baby."

"I love when you leave gifts for me, so romantic," Natasha cooed.

"Please stop, or I will vomit," Clint says.

You snort as you follow through the hole Ultron and Steve created when they crashed into the train. You land with grace, noticing there are passengers on the cart.

Steve hits Ultron with enough force to send him flying, and you move as fast as you can over to a young teen to force her lower onto the ground from her seat to avoid being crushed.

"I guess I've got civilian-watching duty," you say almost glumly.

"I'd be happy to trade," Steve huffs as he stands up straight.

You could hear Natasha and Clint talking through your earpiece, and for a second, you wished you had stayed with your girlfriend when you hear that the truck is airborne, but you knew she could handle it.

"No, you seem like you got it," you shake your head with a smile. Luckily with a psychotic robot and turbulence on the train, it was too hard for anyone to grab their phone and record.

Ultron barrels into Steve, knocking him into the corner before Steve uses his foot to kick back.

"Of course," Steve puffs.

Even though you had said that you still helped out when you could, with the narrow pathway the train provided, the two of you had to be careful of making sure civilians didn't get hurt.

Ultron was extremely diligent in keeping you at a distance from him, realizing you were nearly as fast as Pietro and much, much stronger.

But then you heard it.

The light footsteps atop the train at first, then then your eyes easily adjusted to a blur that went past you, knocking into Ultron.

It was Pietro.

Your eyes easily found their way to Wanda as you turned around. She was looking at you, unsure what to think when your eyes met.

Ultron turned back to start towards Pietro, but two metal railings were bent to prevent him from doing so. Ultron turned back to see Wanda, and it was clear on his robotic face that he was hurt, but he also knew he couldn't best Wanda.

"Please, don't do this," Ultron's tone soft and pleading.

"What choice do we have?" Wanda's thick accent hung in the air, and you bit your tongue.

Ultron stilled for a millisecond before he turned around, shooting a blast out from his hand. Everyone dodged, and the explosion shot straight through to the train's front where the conductor was. Taking the momentary distraction, Ultron bolted out of the train and flew away.

With the conductor out, the train started to sway unsteadily, everyone losing their footing, and no one could go after Ultron.

Steve hopped up, heading to the front to check if the conductor was okay, but she was out cold. "We've lost him! He's headed your way."

The train flew off its railing, and everyone hung on the best they could as it kept going even on concrete and dirt.

"Nat!" Clint shouted through the intercom. "Cap, do you see Nat?" His voice was panicked and strained.

You looked out the window of the train in the sky. You could see Quinjet, but Natasha was nowhere in sight.

"What the hell do you mean, Clint?!" You shouted.

"I got the cradle, but Ultron grabbed her the last second we got it. Do you have eyes on her?!" Clint asked, his head moving jerkily as he looked around out the windows.

"If you have the package, get it to Stark!" Steve instructed. "Go!"

You heard Clint frustratedly curse an expletive before he flew the Quinjet away in the other direction.

Warning bells were already going off in your head as you were about to take off the train and see if you could locate Natasha, but Steve's voice stopped you.

"I need you to help stop the train, or these people might die," Steve's jaw was tight, and you knew that he didn't want this either. If he could stop the train on his own or trusted the two twins enough, he would want you out there looking for Natasha too.

You looked around, seeing the humans' petrified faces, all sorts of people on this train, no doubt children too.

You clenched your jaw, swallowing painfully, but you resolved to trust that Natasha was okay and could take care of herself. She had been long before you, you reminded yourself.

"Alright," you breathe out in a huff.

"Civilians are in the path," Steve told Pietro, who rushed off.

"I need you to help me stop this train," you turn to Wanda.

She stares at you but nods once firmly.

You make your way to the front of the train, hopping over the conductor and a few feet away from the train, turning as it approaches you.

Steeling yourself by digging your feet into the ground as you get into a stance with your hands out, the train collides into you. Instead of crushing you like it would an average human, your body hardens to take the shock, and the train pushes you back, gravel and dirt flying everywhere.

It slows down slightly, but it won't come to a complete stop before the train would barrel right into a building. You can see Pietro working around you, and Wanda uses her power to stop the wheels from turning.

The train comes to a full stop smoothly with all three of you, and no one was harmed. People began to exit the train, and Steve came out to check on you while Wanda checked on Pietro.

"I'm fine, just need a second," you breathe, hearing Pietro say something similar to Wanda.

"Did you get the cradle?" Wanda asks, her eyes floating to you. Your eyes caught hers for a moment, but you turned quickly to your intercoms.

You had tried to contact Natasha, but it was obviously a bust as she didn't answer back. Your next contact was with David to tell him to start searching.

"Stark will handle it," Steve tells Wanda.

"No, he won't," Wanda looked distraught.

"You don't know what you're talking about, you don't know him," Steve defended Tony while Wanda looked more upset as the seconds passed.

"He will do anything to make it right," Wanda says, knowing what she saw in his head. "Ultron can't tell the difference between saving the world and killing it...where do you think he gets that from?"

Steve pursed his lips because as much as he didn't want to admit it, the girl had a point, and Steve was still miffed about how Tony had kept all this artificial intelligence stuff a secret.

"Stark, anyone, come in?" Steve said into his comms, but it was silent.

You turn around, jaw clenched as you were upset about Natasha taken.

"It'll be fine," you tell the three of them, the confidence in your voice that made everyone quiet. "We need to head back."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You were pissed.

And everyone could tell.

Natasha was taken, and no one knew where Ultron may have taken her. You understood at the time that Steve needed you there to help him, but it didn't help that Natasha was gone.

You were mostly pissed at yourself.

"Well, she's not dead," Tony says as if in an attempt to make you feel better. "If she were, Ultron would be rubbing it in our faces."

You didn't say anything in response, jaw still clenched tightly.

Wanda watched from the other side of the room, looking at you peculiarly with her head slightly tilted and arms crossed together just under her chest. She had gathered that you and Natasha were together, and from the information she got from reading other people's minds, it seemed that it was still relatively a new development.

There was something in Wanda's chest that flared annoyingly at the sight of you so...so worried over the redhead. She didn't quite understand it herself or what was the underlying cause of it. But you looked different with that expression on your face.

"You think Natasha might've left something for you outside the internet? Any old-school spy stuff?" Tony asked as he turned to Clint.

"I can cast some nets to see if I catch anything," Clint pressed his lips together, also eager to find his friend.

Your eyes were glowing red angrily as you tried to control your emotions. David came up to you, putting his hand on your shoulder to try to ground you.

"I'll find her," David promises you.

You were gripping a countertop as you were slightly hunched over it.

You needed air.

Suddenly, the edge of the countertop snapped under your grip, crumbling into smaller pieces, and you let it go as you stood straight.

"Find her within the hour," you tell David, walking briskly out of the room.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

When you came back, everything was in chaos.

Everyone was arguing about the body in the cradle and what to do with it. You could see from the corner of your eye that Bruce was angry with Wanda and picking a fight with her.

It was escalating so fast. All of a sudden, Pietro took off as he started destroying lab equipment.

"No, go on," Pietro stood next to Bruce, but the next second afterward, the glass floor shattered underneath him, and he fell through where Clint was.

"Pietro!" Wanda went to help her brother, but then Bruce grabbed her from behind.

Tony and Steve were fighting each other, and you blinked before clenching your jaw.

You blurred over, and just before Steve and Tony were about to collide again, you intercepted, grabbing both their wrists and twisting.

"Ah!" They both yelled as they staggered, almost kneeling on the ground.

The room stilled as everyone look at you.

"We do not fight each other," you snarled at them, looking at Steve and Tony pointedly. "Keep this up, and I'll snap both your wrists."

You grip just slightly tighter in warning before letting them both go, and they stumble a little as they stand up straighter.

"Jesus Christ, I could feel the armor just about to give," Tony says, holding his hand up to inspect his suit while Steve rubs his wrist gingerly.

You then blur over to where Bruce and Wanda to separate them, shoving Bruce a little harder when he refused to let go of Wanda.

Wanda stumbles into your arms when Bruce is forced to let her go. You steady her with your hand on her back. Your scent fills Wanda's nose, and she's almost reeling at how it invades her.

"I get that you're beyond pissed, and what she did was not okay," you tell Bruce, eyes flickering to meet Wanda's for a second before looking back at him. "But clearly the situation has changed, and for now, she's with us. Steve brought them here. This isn't the time. Focus on the mission at hand, figure it out with her after."

"You want me to forgive what she did?" Bruce said incredulously.

"No," you shake your head, "I want you to be an Avenger and put it aside for now because your teammate has been captured, and there's still a maniac robot out there hellbent on making humans extinct."

Your words hit Bruce and seem to sober him from his anger, and he relaxes his clenched jaw as he sighs and nods. You pat him on the shoulder twice before you walk away, leading Wanda with you.

Best to not tempt it again if they're too close together.

Wanda looks at you as you walk with her. The words, 'are you upset with me?' want to leave her mouth, but she forces them in. Of course, you'd be upset with her. She had done so many things to the Avengers, including harming your girlfriend with hallucinations.

Wanda looks away and grits her teeth because she shouldn't care if you're upset with her or not.

But then she feels a light pat on her back.

Wanda looks at you. You aren't looking back at her, there's no indication that you had done that as you keep your head straight ahead.

Still.

Wanda had understood the gesture regardless, hearing your voice in her head.

'It's not okay, but I understand. You will get a chance to make it up to Bruce, and he will forgive you. Give it time.'

Before Wanda could say anything, Tony and Steve were at it again, but this time using their words.

"Tony," Steve's face daunt and tight in disapproval, "shut it down!" Steve demanded.

"And I'm telling you, this is will work!" Tony shot back as he caught you coming up to them.

"Tell them!" Tony looks at you, drawing Steve's attention to you as well. "Tell them what you--"

You shoot Tony a warning look, getting him to shut up.

Sighing, you looked at Steve. "Trust me when I say that it will be okay."

"You want him to bring another android to life?" Steve said in disbelief. "We haven't even defeated the first one yet!"

Before you could argue some more, Thor flew in, bringing his lightning hammer on the cradle, bringing the body to life.

"Wait!" Bruce yelled, but it was too late.

For a moment, it was silent, but suddenly, the body smashed out of its cradle.

Glass flew everywhere in its surrounding area. You immediately grabbed Wanda, pulling her to shield her from the flying glass as you used your hand to protect her head.

You felt a piece of glass slice through your cheek on the surface, momentarily stinging before it mended itself.

When everyone stood straighter as the glass settled, there was a giant red android standing in his naked glory, and a giant yellow stone plastered into his forehead.

You had known this was coming when you touched Tony's hand. You had seen quite far ahead; everything from this, to the fight with Ultron in Tony's perspective, and even a little after that.

When the government and the United Nations wanted to be involved in the Avengers' affairs.

That would be a tricky one to navigate, and you wanted more time to think about it.

When you had relayed what you had seen back to him on the farm, you reassured him that he doesn't kill anyone in the next while, but you didn't exactly tell him what he will do in the future in detail as it could cause counterproductive results and change the future again.

All you could tell Tony was that he was on the right path, he was going to create something to help win the battle, and a heat seal would come in handy.

But back to the matter at hand, you knew this was coming, and yet, actually seeing the giant red walking toaster rubbed you the wrong way, and you weren't quite sure why.

He was floating and quickly flew towards Thor, who easily deterred the android away.

Thor raised his hands as Steve and Clint were ready to fight. Pietro came back, looking at you with a quirk of his brow when he saw you still holding Wanda.

You let go awkwardly because you were distracted, forgetting that you were still protecting her.

Why Pietro was staring at you like that, you didn't know. It's not like Wanda stepped out of your arms, either.

"I'm sorry," the android came back, sounding very similar to JARVIS. "That was odd...thank you," he looked at Thor.

"Thor, you helped create this?" Steve said as he eyed the being before him.

"I had a vision. A whirlpool that sucks in all hope of life and at its center is that," Thor says, pointing to the stone in the android's head.

"What? The gem?" Bruce clarified.

"It's the Mind Stone. It's one of the six Infinity Stones, the greatest power in the universe, unparalleled in its destructive capabilities," Thor explained.

"Then why would you bring it to life..." Steve pursed his lips, even more suspicious of the new being.

"Because Stark is right," Thor says, almost looking pained to admit.

"That's just gonna unnecessarily inflate his ego," you mutter while Tony was accessing what he helped bring to life.

"We can't defeat Ultron," Thor says, but then catches David entering the room. "Okay, well, maybe he can, but he seems like he has a lot to do."

"Help is good," the android tilted his head.

"Why does your 'vision' sound a lot like JARVIS," Steve's brows furrowed.

"We...configured JARVIS' matrix to create something new," Tony explained.

"I think I've had enough of the new," Steve pursed his lips, never taking his eyes off the android.

The android looked over to Steve. "You think I'm a child of Ultron?"

"You're not?" Steve countered back.

The android shook his head. "I'm not Ultron. I'm not Jarvis...I am...I am." Since he had yet to name himself, and due to Thor's vision, everyone decided that's what his name would be.

Wanda looked at Vision suspiciously. Her eyes narrowing at him. "I looked in your head and saw annihilation."

"Look again," he prompted her, staring at her intensely, and you resisted the urge to curl your lip back.

Wanda does what he says, a curious look on her face.

"Yeah, her seal of approval means jack-shit to me," Clint says.

You watched as everyone goes back and forth, with Vision ending with a long, windy, talk about himself and that they need to go. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"Sokovia. Natasha's there too," David answered, giving you a look when everyone questions where they were going.

"Then let's go," you lick your lips.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The ride back to Sokovia feels long, even with Tony flying the Quinjet as fast as possible.

You stand in the back, looking out the window as the clouds pass by. You hear someone come up to you, but you don't move.

The smell of cinnamon and orange blossom floats you're way, so you don't have to know who it was.

The two of you stand in silence, appreciating the view outside.

"Sometimes...sometimes I can see a glimpse into your head," Wanda says quietly, so the others don't hear.

Your eyes peer over to her before slowly looking back out.

"It's not polite to snoop," you say equally as quiet.

"I can't exactly control it..." Wanda mumbles.

"Even so, you should at least pretend you don't know," you moisten your lips.

It's quiet for a moment before Wanda speaks up again.

"I...saw someone. Things I can't explain," Wanda says unsurely, and you know what she's talking about.

Even though you know she can't help it, you can't help but also feel a little miffed.

You knew that Wanda had a right to know, and yet, you didn't say anything.

"You were looking for me..." Wanda realizes.

"And Pietro," you add, giving her a look, almost laughing when she scrunches her nose.

"We're...connected," Wanda slowly says, turning to face you more.

You swallow as you turn to face her as well.

Wanda's staring at you intensely as if drawing in every little detail about your face and committing it to memory. There's a tight feeling in both her stomach and chest, and she doesn't understand.

She doesn't understand you.

You nod softly.

"Will you tell me about it?" Wanda asks.

"After everything has settled," you tell her.

Wanda swallows.

"You want me to stay?"

She says it so softly, you're surprised such a tone can come out of her when lately she's been an angry bull.

With the time you have, you take in her features. Her long dark hair behind her ears, round face, with define cheeks and jawline was familiar. Her long lashes framed her eyes, and her dark eyeliner and the lighting inside the craft dimmed the color of her eyes.

Still.

She looked at you with an intensity that made you dizzy.

"Yeah," you rasp. "How else will you make it up to Banner?"

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha hears you calling her name as you run-up to her cell. She stands up, meeting you on the other side, her hand touches yours.

"You okay?" You ask her, accessing her thoroughly for any kind of injuries.

"Yeah," she tells you, smiling a little at your protective behavior, and once you're satisfied that she's relatively unharmed, you look back to her face.

"We gotta get going, team's already out there, and we're missing all the action," you say, liking the way Natasha smirks.

"Don't suppose you found a key just lying around on your way in, did you?"

You tilt your head, looking at the built-in lock on the cell door. Placing your hand over it, you yanked with a substantial amount of strength, forcing the metal underneath to give way.

You threw the hunk of metal behind your back and looked at your girlfriend. She smiled at you as she slides the door open, jumping into you to hug you briefly.

"Let's go," she says as she pulls back.

The two of you navigate your way through, but the ground begins to shake as you're almost out of there. The two of you stumble slightly before steadying yourselves.

"What's the situation?" You ask into the comms.

"Ultron's got Vibranium under the city. We're up in the air," Tony advises.

"Shit, we need to get out here," you say, turning to Natasha. "We're not going to make it on foot, so I'm going to carry you on my back."

Natasha nods, and you turn around, lower yourself so she can get on. Once she's secured on with her legs wrapped tightly around your waist, you adjust here once more before you're satisfied.

"Keep your head down and close to me," you tell her, feeling her following your instructions. The speed you'd be going at could accidentally break her neck if you weren't careful.

With that, you race out, quickly reaching the outside. Everything seems to be crumbling at you begin to maneuver onto the rocks, leaping onto another one as they fall. Eventually, you reach the cliffside wall, using your hands along with your feet to climb up.

When you reach safe ground, Natasha gets off.

"Didn't even break a sweat, huh?" She says to you.

"I have great stamina," you joke, but Natasha raises her brow at her, quirking her lip on one side into a seductive smirk.

"I'll be sure to test that out one day."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You feel awful.

Sokovia is falling apart, people are screaming and crying, and it's a war zone out here.

You separated from Natasha, warning her to not get kidnapped again because you don't think you could live with that kind of worry. She merely kisses your cheek before she races off to go help Steve and Thor.

You met up with David, who was huddled up with one of Ultron's robots, and a laptop next to him. The robot was powered down by David, who had his hands on its chest intensely.

"What are you doing?" You ask, looking at his laptop screen to see he was uploading something.

David didn't break his concentration or even open his eyes, but he answered you. "I'm trying to reprogram this bot's mainframe. The Vision is deleting Ultron off the net, so if I can do this, then I can turn this bot over to help us, and then spread it over to all Ultron's other bots."

"That would definitely turn the tide on this," you say, crushing a flying robot towards David.

"I...I got it!" David exclaimed, powering up the robot in hand. It stood up, accessing you, and you stood on guard, but it started to attack its own kind as a threat in the next moment.

"I just need to finish uploading the software to be spread," David picked up his laptop. "I'm going to take cover to finish this, and then find The Vision. I'm good here, you should go."

You nod at him before you take off at high speed. On your way, you bumped into Clint and Wanda. They were being overpowered as they tried to help civilians out of the area.

A group of bots begin to close in. It seems David is still in the process of uploading the software, so the attacks haven't ceased. You notice a bot hellbent on self-destruction as it plummets towards the ground.

Clint is already moving towards Wanda, shouting at her to move. You rush towards the two of them, jumping and pushing them through a building window just as an explosion hits. There are shots still being fired even as the three of you take cover.

Clint's already sitting up, alert as he tries to look at the situation outside without getting shot. Wanda crawls towards the wall, gasping and whimpering.

"How could I let this happen?" She's so distraught.

"Hey, hey, are you alright?" Clint asks, but you put your hand on his shoulder.

Clint looks at you. The situation outside still needs to be handled, and he seems like he doesn't have the time to try to give her a pep talk. You nod at him, and he nods back. Getting up, Clint readies his arrows before he kicks open the door.

"This is all our fault," Wanda cries quietly.

You grab her face, getting her to look up at you. "Look at me," you tell her. "It doesn't matter whose fault it is. It's your fault, my fault, it's everyone's fault. Regardless, this is happening."

She looks at you, breathing harshly as she blinks rapidly.

"I know you're hurting, but this is your homeland, and it's up in the air. Literally. Hopefully, if David manages, we won't be fighting an entire army of robots, but we still got one bad guy to fight," you swallow before hearing something approach as you push and move Wanda out of the way just as a shot fires through the wall.

Wanda looks even more frightened, and she's hanging on the front of your jacket as you readjust to move away from the wall.

"We can't change what we've done, we can only try to fix it going forward. I don't care about anything you did or who you were before this."

"I can't fix this," she bellows to you.

"Yes, you can," you backfire immediately at her. "If you scared and want to let everyone else clean up your mess, I'm fine with letting you do that. You'll be safe here, and Pietro can come to get you. But you can't sit here and tell me that you're okay with letting your fear control you. You can do this, I know you can."

Wanda stares at you, eyes shaking as bites her tongue, letting the silence fall.

"Why do you believe in me so much? Care about me so much?" Wanda asks quietly, feeling something stir in her stomach.

You look back at her, noticing that Wanda seems calmer. Maybe because you feel like you're looking at someone so similar to Tatyana in many ways. That Wanda feels like she's the villain who had caused this.

Perhaps thought she had wanted to be a villain at the start.

But it wretches your gut painfully.

"If anyone could become a hero, it'd be you."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"David, please tell me you're almost finished," you say into the comms as you, Wanda, and Clint fight the rest of the robots in your area.

The three of you need to work your way to Steve and the rest of the gang when Pietro flew in to take Wanda.

"Keep up, old man!" He teasingly says as he darts off.

"I hate him so much," Clint breathes deeply.

"If you want, I can carry you," you shrug.

"I both want to and hate the idea," Clint scrunches his nose but allows you to carry him.

"I'm really close guys, just hang tight!" David tells everyone.

"The next wave is going to hit any minute," Steve says. "What do you have, Stark?"

"Working on a heat seal," he tells everyone.

"We don't have the time," Thor says, "Ultron is trying to get to the core. We need to make a choice."

"That's not a solution," Steve firmly says.

"There's no math here, Steve. Everyone up here versus everyone down there?"

"I'm not leaving this rock with one civilian on it," Steve doesn't budge.

"I'm not saying we should go," Natasha counters back, nodding her head back and forth as she considers something. "There are worse ways to go. Besides, where else am I going to get a view like this?"

"I have at least fifteen other places that have better views than this."

Natasha looks over to see you had shown up with a disapproving look on your face.

"I think we might have to settle," Natasha gives you a self-deprecating smile that shows all too much that this is the only way.

"I don't settle."

With that, another voice comes on the radio.

"Glad you think the view is nice, hopefully, you think this is much better," Fury comes in with a Helicarrier in view. "Nice, right? I pulled her out of the mothballs with a couple old friends. She's dusty, but she'll do."

"Fury, you son of a bitch!" Steve says with a smile.

"Ooh! You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Fury replies in teasing.

Natasha looks over to you, smiling as you come up to her.

"Did you know?" She asks, and you shrug, not wanting to tell her that you touched Tony.

"If Fury decided to show up at the farm with actually nothing else planned, I think we would have to vote him off the island," you offer instead.

"That's comforting," Fury sarcastically said.

"Anytime," you reply.

Within seconds, lifeboats are deployed, and everyone is helping with the evacuation.

"The odds aren't looking too great here," Thor interrupts. "The core is getting bombarded."

"Rhodey, get everyone on the Helicarrier!" Tony says as he flies towards Thor to help.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"This is exactly what I wanted. All of you against all of me. How could you possibly hope to stop me?"

"Like the old man said," Tony looks at Steve. "Together."

The bots begin to rush towards everyone, and you swallow.

"Wait, guys!" You hear David through the comms. "I...got it!"

Just like that, the bots stop dead in their tracks and power down before powering back up again.

This time, they turn their attention towards Ultron.

"Are you kidding me?" Ultron grumbles as the bots rush towards him, firing shots away that Ultron easily deflects.

Because The Vision burned him off the net, Ultron has no way of accessing the software David created to try to change the bots back to his side.

The Hulk rushes towards Ultron, punching him square in the chest and sending him flying miles away.

Everyone turns to look at each other as David blurs into the area with his laptop.

"I feel like we missed a very epic battle scene," Tony says, "like a defining moment in a movie."

"Oh, I'm sorry," David says sarcastically, "if you want, I can totally fix that for you."

"Nope, we're good," Steve says quickly. "We still need to get the stragglers, but if Ultron comes back to the core, we're doomed."

"I'll protect it," Wanda interjects, looking at you as she does. "There's no one better than me."

You nod as Clint looks at Nat.

"Nat, let's go," he nods outside. She looks at you, and you nod at her as it would be faster for you to find civilians on your own.

You look at David. "Alright, nerd, you're going with me. I think you had enough alone time for today."

"You are so ungrateful, oh my god."

"I love you," you smile.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Tony is using the extra bots to help push the rock further into the sky. If they can get it into space, using the heat seal would cause the least amount of damage to Sokovia.

"I can't believe I'm going into space again," Tony mumbled, glad he had made the adjustments to his suit so it would be suitable to go into space better this time.

He had been prepared since the alien invasion.

"Maybe you chose the wrong career path and should've become an astronaut instead," you joke, getting a low chuckle in return.

You had run the perimeter with David, seeing that there were no civilians left.

Natasha volunteered to try to convince The Hulk to either change back or get his ass on the Helicarrier. You would've volunteered, but you don't think The Hulk would be happy to see you, and you can't keep biting the man to force him to change back either.

"I think I can hear a woman screaming," David mumbled. "I'll go check."

He takes off, and you are about to head back when you hear shots fired in the distance. You turn and speed over.

You felt your stomach dropping when you approach the scene. Everything seems to happen in slow motion.

Ultron in his jet, shooting down at Clint, who has a little boy in his arms. You turn your head to see Pietro.

He looks at you, giving you a smirk that feels all too familiar like it's his last one.

Pietro is a step faster than you, he probably always will be. But that doesn't stop you. You force yourself to run. Run faster. Run harder. The sheer amount of force causes a sickening crack in your legs, but you make it just in time.

Pietro only gets shot once through his stomach before you push him out of the way and cover Clint and the child.

The shooting stops as Ultron flies away.

The silence settles, and Clint looks up to see you standing straight before him. You've been shot all over, multiple times in multiple areas.

You suddenly puke up blood as you fall to your knees.

Pietro immediately gets up from the ground rushing over to you, catching you in his arms.

"Why did you do that?!" He yells at you, hands over your body, but he doesn't know which areas to stop the bleeding.

"You idiot," you tell him. "Can you heal from being shot? I don't think so."

Though you say that, the only thing that healed, even though rather slowly, was the crack in your leg.

"You're not healing," Clint says, his tone urgent. He looks at you as blood pours out. "Why aren't you healing?"

"She doesn't have enough blood in her system."

Clint turns over to see David, looking horrified. He kneels down, taking you from Pietro's arms.

"I told you, you fucking idiot, that we should've just taken more blood bags from the hospital," David scolds you.

"This is hardly the time for, 'I told you so,'" You reply weakly.

"Get the kid onto the boat," David looks at Clint and then looks at Pietro. "You need to go collect your sister. There are no more civilians, and we're reaching the stratosphere soon."

"What about--"

"I got this," David says as he bites into your neck. You hiss at the sudden pain. Clint and Pietro have more questions, but they do as David says and take off.

"You better pray to God that we make it back in time," David purses his lips as he pushes your sleeve up to bite in various places.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The damage to Sokovia is still devastating. It's not entirely obliterated, and people will be able to rebuild their country.

The Hulk, unfortunately, had taken off on his own in stealth mode. He didn't want to be found.

It seems The Vision has taken care of completely destroying Ultron, taking this chapter to an end.

It's not the perfect ending, but it could be a lot worse.

There was only one problem left.

You were dying.

Or at least, on your way to either going completely feral for blood to help you heal or going to a deep slumber until you were fed.

Either one was on the table at this point.

"What do we do?" Natasha asks David sharply as they're still in the air being transported back.

They were on the Helicarrier in their own private section away from the people as they didn't know what you were going to do.

"I only temporarily closed her wounds to stop the bleeding," David tells everyone, explaining why he bit you earlier. He was injecting his healing venom. "Venom doesn't quite work the same way on vampires as it does on humans. She still has a lot of internal bleeding that won't stop, and the only thing that can stop it is if she drinks blood."

"We don't have any blood bags on here!" Steve says as he looks at you, full of worry.

"We could...we could cut and drain our own blood," Natasha looks at you before looking back at David. "She can drink the blood as long as she's not biting us, right?"

David purses his lips as if to consider it but then shakes his head. "She's too badly wounded, it won't be enough. Plus, none of you are in the state to lose any more blood, even if you guys all donate. I can heal your wounds, but I can't make your body produce more blood."

"Then what do we do?" Natasha wants to scream. She can't lose you. She just can't.

At that moment, Pietro and Wanda come in. Pietro can hardly stand up himself, so Wanda is supporting him. They had heard part of the conversation as they came in.

Pietro looks at you, face full of anguish because you're only like this because you saved him.

You're tense on the table, occasionally arching your back up in pain and need. David is holding you down by your arm in case you suddenly get a burst of energy and massacre everyone in this room for blood.

Wanda looks at you, jaw clenched.

The feeling of loss is threatening her on her doorstep. You had saved Pietro, God knows if she could survive to lose her only family.

But Wanda was not ready to let you go either.

It has occurred to Wanda that outside of Pietro, the only person in this world that may understand her, believe in her, protect her, care for her...would be you.

There was something there, something undefined and frightening. Wanda was sure you felt it too with her, though ignoring it for Natasha.

David looked at Wanda. He knew that he shouldn't.

Yet before he could even stop himself, Wanda looks sharply over at him, catching his thoughts.

You would be entirely beyond pissed at him.

It would cause a whole new set of problems for everyone.

He was sure you would rather die.

But David wasn't willing to risk the chance of you going feral, which was almost guaranteed at this point, or your death.

He just wasn't.

"She can drink my blood," Wanda says, drawing everyone's attention. Wanda was the only person who hadn't sustained any significant damage or got shot. She could afford to lose blood.

"What?" Steve looks at David, who has his lips pursed.

"It would work, wouldn't it?" Wanda also looks at you, your eyes glowing a red she's all too familiar in seeing in herself. "It would be even better than drinking from a blood bag to feed directly from me."

Wanda doesn't fully understand what you are, or the concept of vampires, but she catches pieces here and there from everyone around the room.

And there's a feeling of intrigue and possession that flutters knowing that she was the only one you could drink blood from, aside from her brother.

Pietro grips his sister's arms tighter, torn because if you could drink her blood, you could drink his, but he was also in no shape to lose any more blood.

Wanda pats his arms to assure him she'll be fine. Pietro leans against the wall as Wanda comes closer to you.

"It...would, but..." David's eyes shift over to Natasha.

Natasha clenches her jaw.

The words about how feeding can be an incredibly intimate and private act come back to her.

It's not that Natasha is particularly jealous of Wanda in that way. She's more jealous that she can't do anything to help you herself.

Natasha can't muster the words out of her mouth, so she tersely nods.

With that, Wanda stands right next to your lying body on the bed.

"Everyone, stand back," David says, trying to keep you still, but it's like you can smell how close to feeding you are.

The burst of energy does come, but you use to break out of David's grip as you fling him across the room.

"Shit!" David yells, convinced that you're going to kill Wanda to drain her blood. He stands up, reading to try to fight you even though it would be a losing battle.

But he stops.

You merely stand before Wanda, her face in your hands as you tilt her head up to expose her neck.

You press your nose against her neck, taking a long inhale as you purr at the scent.

Wanda can hear alarm bells in her head that tell her you're a predator, and she's your prey, but she doesn't tremble. Instead, she brings her hands up to hold your wrists as if to keep them in place.

You chuckle throatily, attitude nothing like your usual self, "How brave."

Wanda swallows slowly, the action very visible as the muscles in her neck move.

"It was you who taught me that I could be a hero," she says quietly as if it's only for your ears.

The words seem to trigger something in you as you sink your teeth into her neck, a mouthful of blood rushing into you.

It's been too long, you almost forgot what it was like.

It was hot in your mouth, as fresh as it was.

You could feel a warm body being pressed you, hear a heart beating, and smell the arousal.

A deep moan left Wanda's mouth, unable to control it. A hot, liquid fire shot down to her lower stomach, pooling in her gut.

Wanda couldn't describe how it felt, what she was experiencing, but you were doing something to her as you drank from her, holding her close to you.

You suddenly lift her into the air, wrapping her legs around your waist as you blurred over to the drawer cabinet against the wall, pushing Wanda up on it roughly. Your hands held her possessively.

Wanda was pressed to the wall as she sat on the cabinet, her legs still wrapped against you tightly as she fisted her hand into the back of your hair.

Everyone watched in astonishment of the act, David biting on his tongue as he looked at Natasha, who had no expression on her face to indicate what she was feeling.

Blood was rushing into your mouth, and it was delicious, making you delirious, but that didn't stop you from realizing there was a crowd in the room watching you feed, watching Wanda unravel.

You released your mouth from her neck.

"Leave," you demanded lowly and roughly, hardly coherent before you resume sinking your teeth back into Wanda.

Natasha stared at you, you seemed lost in your own world as you fed, and Natasha knows that you are only like this due to how injured you are.

Still.

As everyone leaves the room, Natasha looks at the two of you once more. Wanda's hand is buried in your hair while she's arching into you.

As she exits the room, Natasha catches Wanda's eyes, staring at her intensely with an unknown meaning in them before her eyes flutter close just as the door shuts.

PART XI

#mm: my fics #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #black widow x reader #scarlet witch x reader #Natasha romanoff x you #wanda maxmimoff x you #avengers reader insert #marvel reader insert #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #series: Between the Lines

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qqueenofhades · 4 years

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Hi, I hope this isnt annoying to ask but w the old guard ive seen a lot of people mixing up catholic and christian when it comes to nicky. when by todays standards theyre not interchangeable as catholic is a specific strain of christianity. i was kinda under the impression the crusades were a purely catholic thing since the pope. is that right or were other christians involved??

Hmm. Just to be clear what you’re asking, are you wondering whether it’s a mistake to use “Catholic” and “Christian” interchangeably when talking about this time period or describing Nicky’s faith? And/or asking for a basic religious primer on medieval Europe and the crusades more generally?

First, it’s not a mistake to use “Catholic” and “Christian” as synonyms during the crusades, especially since a) Catholics are Christians, no matter what the militant Protestant reformers would like you to think, and b) until said Protestant reformation, they were the dominant and almost (but not quite) singular Christian denomination in Western Europe. Our source material for the period doesn’t describe the crusaders as “Catholics,” even if they were; they call them Christians or Franks. (Likewise, the word “Frank,” i.e. “French” was often used to describe Western European crusaders no matter which country they were from, since so many crusaders came from France and that was where the crusades were originally launched, at the council of Clermont in 1095.) To call them “Christians” points us to the fact that the crusades were viewed as a great pan-Christian enterprise, even if the reality was more complicated, and nobody would need to specify “Catholic,” because that was implicit.

In short, medieval Europe had two major strands of Christianity, which developed out of the centuries of arguments over heresy, the contents of the biblical canon, the nature and/or divinity of Christ, their relationship to Judaism, paganism, and other religions of late antiquity, and so forth. Eventually these two competing branches took on geographical, cultural, and linguistic associations: Western (Latin) Catholic Christianity, and Eastern (Greek) Orthodox Christianity. The Great Schism in 1054 split these two rites formally apart, though both of them had at least some thought that the internal divisions in Christianity should be healed and dialogue has continued intermittently even up to the present day (though they’re still not actually reconciled and this seems highly unlikely to ever happen.)

The head of Western Catholic Christianity was (and is) the Pope of Rome, and the head of Eastern Orthodox Christianity was (and is) the Patriarch of Constantinople. Both of these branches of Christianity were involved in launching the crusades. To make a long story short, the Byzantine (Greek) Emperor, Alexios Komnenos, appealed to the Catholic (Latin) pope, Urban II, for help in defending the rights of eastern Christians, territorial incursions against Greek possessions by the Muslims of the Holy Land and North Africa, and the city of Constantinople (and Jerusalem) itself. So although the actual French and Western European participants in the crusades were Catholic, they (originally, at least) joined up with the intention of helping out their Orthodox brethren in the East and “liberating” Jerusalem from the so-called tyranny of Islam. To this end, the accounts of the council of Clermont focused heavily on the brotherhood of western and eastern Christians and the alleged terrible treatment of these Christians by the ruling Islamic caliphate in Jerusalem. At that time, that was the Isma’ili Shia Muslim Fatimids (who had replaced the Sunni Muslim Abbasids in the early 10th century -- there are many names and many dynasties, but yes.)

However, despite this ecumenical start, relations between Western and Eastern Christians started to go bad very quickly over the course of the crusades, indeed within a few short years of Clermont. Alexios Komnenos wanted the crusade leaders to swear loyalty to him and pledge to return formerly Byzantine lands that might be recaptured from the Muslims, and the crusade leaders did not want to do this. There were deep cultural, linguistic, religious, social, and political differences between Greek and Latin Christians, even if they were both technically Christians, and these caused the obvious problems. The Greeks were obviously located in a different part of the world and had a different relationship with their Islamic neighbors (they fought them often, but also traded with them and established diplomatic ties) and this caused constant friction during the crusades, since the Westerners always suspected (not entirely wrongly) that the Greeks were secretly in league with the Turks. Albert of Aachen, writing his Historia Ierosolimitana in the early 12th century, referred to “wicked Christians, that is to say Greeks,” and our primary source for the Second Crusade (1145--49) is Odo of Deuil and his De profectione Ludovici VII in Orientem (Journey of Louis VII to the East.) He spent the entire time grousing about “treacherous Greeks” and blaming them for the crusade’s struggles (though the Second Crusade pretty much sabotaged itself and didn’t need any outside force to blame for its failure). There was some truth to this accusation, since Byzantium was then engaged in a war against Sicily (Louis VII’s ally, though it had its own connections to Muslim culture and indeed had been Muslim before the Normans conquered it in 1061). The Greeks had thus been working with the Muslims to undercut the invasion of Western Europeans into this contested territory, and this was not forgotten or forgiven.

The best-known example of Western-Eastern relations during the crusades going catastrophically awry is in 1204, at the sack of Constantinople as the culmination of the Fourth Crusade. Basically: the crusaders were deeply in debt to the Venetians and had already attacked the Catholic city of Zara (Zadar in Croatia) in hopes of getting some money back, then got involved in the messy politics of the Byzantine succession, went to Constantinople, and eventually outright attacked it, sacked and destroyed the city, and raped and slaughtered its inhabitants. This obviously poisoned the well all but permanently between Latin and Greek Christians (frankly, in my opinion, it’s one of the worst tragedies of history) and Constantinople never regained its former wealth and pre-eminence. It declined until it was captured in 1453 by the Ottoman Turks and Sultan Mehmed II, and has been an Islamic city ever since. (It was renamed Istanbul in 1923, under Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, the “founding father” of modern Turkey.) Obviously, Latin and Greek Christianity still had to work with each other somehow, but the crusades were actually the single biggest factor in driving the two branches further apart, rather than reconciling them.

The words “catholic” and “orthodox” both have connotations of universality, overall correctness, and all-encompassing truth claims. Therefore, in some sense, to a Catholic Christian or an Orthodox Christian, defining themselves as such, with both words, is repetitious; they are Catholic/Orthodox and therefore the correct sort of Christian (even if their theological opponents would disagree). However, historians obviously do use that convention to distinguish them, since the identity is important, and makes a big difference as to what religious landscape an individual is living in. As for heresy, it was an equally complicated subject. Numerous “heretical” (i.e. not mainstream Catholic Christianity) Christian sects existed in Europe for this entire period, most notably the Cathars. (They got their own crusade launched against them, the Albigensian Crusade of 1209--29 in southern France.) The lines between heresy and orthodoxy (small-o orthodoxy meaning in this case, confusingly, Catholic Christianity) could often be blurred, and religious practices were syncretic and constantly influenced each other. A big problem in the Albigensian Crusade was identifying who the heretics actually were; they looked like their Catholic neighbors, they lived in community with them, their friends and family members were Cathar and Catholic alike, both rites were practiced, and plenty of towns were just fine with this hybrid arrangement. Hence it was not as simple as just pointing and going “get those guys,” and indeed, one of the leaders of the Albigensian Crusade, when asked by a knight how to tell them apart, advocated to just kill them all and God would know who the good Catholics were. Welp.

Northern and eastern Europe also remained pagan relatively late into the medieval era (into the 10th and 11th centuries) and the Northern and Baltic Crusades were launched with the aim of converting them to Catholic Christianity. (You will notice that the crusades have a complicated history as both a vehicle of religious warfare and as an attempted theater of conversion.) Heresy was a constant preoccupation of the Catholic popes, especially Innocent III (the progenitor of the Fourth, Albigensian, and Fifth Crusades). Especially in the thirteenth century, splinter religious groups and localized sects of “heresy” were popping up like crazy, and it was a constant point of contention as to how to deal with them, i.e. by force, persuasion, reconciliation, dialogue, etc. No, the medieval Catholic church was not the stereotyped instrument of fear, oppression, and tyranny, and could never enforce its views universally on all of western Europe. Church attendance on the parish level could be so low that in 1215 at the Fourth Lateran Council, Innocent issued an order requiring Christians to take communion at least once a year. So yes. The standard was very far from “everyone believed Catholicism fervently at all times and if they didn’t, they were immediately punished/burned alive.” The idea of burning heretics at the stake wasn’t even introduced until the early fifteenth century, and even then, it required an often-months-long formal church trial and wasn’t just something that the local village priest could hand out on a whim.

There were also monastic orders, and these (at least in Western Europe) were therefore Catholic, but they had different ways of practicing it and what their orders emphasized. The most common order were Benedictines (founded in the 6th century by Saint Benedict), who adhered to the Rule of Saint Benedict, which is still the basis for the following monastic orders. There were also the Cluniacs (founded in 10th-century France at Cluny Abbey) and the Cistercians (founded as rivals to the Cluniacs at the end of the 11th century, also in France). In terms of the crusades, the Cistercians were by far the most involved with/zealously supportive of them (Bernard of Clairvaux was a Cistercian) and took part in directly financing, preaching, and launching the Second, Fourth, and Albigensian Crusades alike. The better-known monastic orders, the Franciscans and Dominicans, weren’t founded until the thirteenth century, on the tail end of the crusades, and didn’t take much direct part in them. The Dominican inquisition, however, took over the business of dealing with the Cathars after the Albigensian Crusade petered out, and their concern was often with heresy thereafter.

Anyway. This has gotten long, as per usual. But I hope this gives you some introductory sense of the religious landscape of medieval Europe, the divisions within Christianity, and the fact that it’s entirely accurate to use “Catholic” and “Christian” interchangeably when discussing Nicky’s crusades-era faith and counterparts. The crusaders themselves did not specify themselves as being Catholic, and the crusades were (at least initially) viewed as a pan-Christian movement, even if eventually fatal tensions with Orthodox Christians left a permanent scar. The idea of identifying the precise denomination of Christianity is also another Protestant Reformation-era innovation, and wasn’t, at least in this case, necessary to do.

#history #medieval history #history of religion #long post #anonymous #ask

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writefinch · 3 years

Text

Dear Dairy, Pt.1 (cn: noncon, Mm, kidnap, emphasis on *forced* feminization, induced lactation, milking, bondage, drugging, induction of gender dysphoria in a cis guy, things of that nature)

7th July 2018

Cold day today. I dusted off my scarves for the first time this year. Not literally, they'd been vacuum sealed and packed away when the weather turned in October. I threw out the red and yellow knit scarf, something I should have done last year, as it's far too Harry Potter. I was going to pick out the UMIST scarf but that felt a touch dull for the first scarf of the year. In the end I picked out the green silk paisley, which I felt provided a contrast with the pink shirt. I wore them with the second-hand grey Armani that I've yet to have tailored; I haven't yet decided if it's worth the trouble. I'm leaning towards yes, as I received two compliments today, one from Jason's database administrator, a charming and flirtatious--to say nothing of attractive--lady from Perth. We've talked about the possibility of meeting up for drinks at some point, and I'm increasingly inclined to take her up on the offer.

Experiment C2 is adjusting to his newfound freedom since his release last week. It was sad to see him go, and I'll cherish the time we spent together, our first night especially when he violently objected to the idea of servicing me. Oh, how he kicked and fought, clawing at his neck chain, scratching me, biting, swinging wildly. He bloodied my nose rather viciously and left me in no mood for sex that night, to the extent that I almost let him go entirely.

Of course, his demeanor changed altogether after I bagged him. A clear plastic bag over his head, taped around his neck, watching him gasp and writhe for air that isn't there, screaming his silly little head off until he's sure that he's taken his final breath, then tearing a tiny hole over his nostrils. I let him suck in four generous lungfuls of air before I bagged him the second time, and I went through seven bags before allowing him a rest. After that he became such an agreeable and solicitous cocksleeve you'd have thought he was raised in a merchant marine!

Still, he was unsuitable both physiologically and psychologically for the experimental interventions, and I only have so much space in the cellar, so I had to let him go. Some of my social acquaintances are keeping a close eye on him. He's been told that running his mouth will lead to nothing but the cold grave, and I believe he's a bright enough lad to take that to heart.

I'm beginning the search for his replacement tomorrow.

20th July 2018

I've found him! I've found him I've found him, he is everything I've been looking for, he is perfect, it is as if God placed that boy on earth for no other purpose than my need for him. I can barely contain my excitement.

He is an itinerant surf bum, twenty years of age, single, underemployed, estranged from his family. He has flowing blond hair, a few wisps under his chin that can barely be called a beard, deep brown eyes, and a lithe, rangy figure that seems to be slowly growing into the top-heavy carrot-shaped build of a classic surfer. He's been living in town since May, surfing most days, doing temp jobs, lodging in the spare bedroom of a friend of mine.

What a perfect physique! His body is accustomed to being dashed over rocks and whipped by surf, what fun I will have finding and surpassing his tolerances for pain! Oh, to restrict and ration out air to a boy who has trained himself to hold his breath underwater since he was a young teenager, to see those taut muscles stretched over a rack, I cannot wait, I can't wait.

I won't speak or write his name. I now take every action with the foregone conclusion that he is mine, and that he is already Experiment C3. In my mind, he is already in my cellar.

My friend has kindly allowed him to get behind on his rent, and C3 apparently plans to move to Sydney in ten day's time, driving out across the country in his decade-old Ford Ka, surfboard strapped to the roof. When he disappears a few days before that, people will assume he left to avoid paying his rent.

They won't be wrong, in a sense. C3 won't be worrying about rent for a long, long time...

26th July, 2018

It hasn't been an easy choice, and it is in fact a decision I've been struggling with for some time now, but I've decided to let my hair go grey. I'm almost forty for heaven's sake, and I noticed my first grey a year before the financial crisis. Ever since then I've been religious in my application of dye and toner, carefully concealing each and every one of the pale little buggers that pops up, but it's gone from something I'd do after a haircut to something I'm doing twice a week. I won't rush it, I'm going to ease off the dye over the course of the next year or so, but by next July I'll be au naturelle salt and pepper.

Work remains dull but tolerable. I know I'm blessed to be able to do most of my duties from home given my hobbies, but there's a certain sense of removal from everything, as if it's not really a job at all and I'm back at university doing a coursework-intensive compulsory module. On the other hand, I do enjoy going to the office in a way that I did not when I was going there five days a week!

Experiment C3 is screaming his head off again, I think. It's very faint, and I've turned off the air conditioning in the sitting room so I can hear it coming up from below. I suppose I can't blame the boy, given the circumstances. He hasn't seen me since the drugs wore off, and he's in the same configuration I first kept C2 in: his feet are in snowboard boots and locked into clips in the floor, his neck is in a steel collar connected to an eyebolt on the floor by a one-metre chain, his wrists are cuffed and pulled up towards the ceiling by another chain, he has noise-cancelling headphones strapped over his ears blaring white noise, and he's wearing a blindfold snug enough to prevent him from even blinking underneath it.

He's been there for seven hours now, since three in the morning. He can neither stand nor sit nor lie down, he cannot turn around, he cannot see--though it is pitch black in the cellar even if he wasn't blindfolded--he cannot hear his own voice, and I very much doubt he has any idea how he got there.

As I said, I haven't been down to see him properly yet, so I'm monitoring him at a distance via CCTV and also his pulse and blood oxygen readings. I'm keeping him watered through an IV drip and I'm not at all worried about feeding him just yet, though I'm sure he'll be getting hungry given that I emptied out the contents of his guts with an enema while he was still unconscious. I want him properly good and woozy from sleep deprivation before I introduce myself, either forty-eight hours or until his vitals get a tad skiffy, whichever is shorter. By my word, I am not an impatient man!

Of course, given the close monitoring required, I'll only be getting a few more hours sleep than he will. I suspect I'm getting the better half of the deal. Ah, the poor thing just wet himself. He needn't worry, it's all going into the bucket between his feet, and it'll go to good use later.

I've calmed myself down since his capture, for practical reasons as much as anything else, but I am still abuzz with energy. I am already looking forward to writing my next entry!

28th July 2018

I introduced myself to C3 today.

He spent an impressively long time in the stress position before he was unable to push his legs and instead dangled from his wrists, almost twelve hours, at which point I let the wrist rope go slack and allowed him to collapse. To prevent him from sleeping I intermittently blasted him with high pressure cold water whenever his pulse dropped below 100, for about a further four hours until I decided he'd had enough rest and strung his wrists back up.

He lasted five hours that time, so I let his wrists down again and stood sentry with a paintball gun, giving him a good and proper three-round burst whenever he stopped whimpering. Up again, barely an hour, down again, where I pinned him to the floor with wiring from an electric fence, set to deliver low-intensity zaps across his arms and chest whenever it seemed as if sleep was a possibility. He only got a few shocks, I think the first few put him in such a state of alarm that he didn't dare relax enough to be given another.

I strung him up a few more times, sometimes combining the motivators--his quivering thighs made a delightful target for paintballs as he tried to hold them in a crouching squat--until we reached the forty-ninth hour. I then played my recorded introduction tape through his headphones. It was identical to the one I'd played for C1 and C2, which was itself similar to the one recorded for B4 through B9.

Of course, as the deaf and blindfolded boy was crouch-squatting in place hearing my voice tell him that his old life was forfeit, that he was livestock now, that he would be used as a sex slave, that disobedience would only lead to misery, and the details of the hormone treatments he would be on, I was standing in front of him, masturbating.

My timing was impeccable. Just as the last lines of the recording said "if you're wondering when you'll meet me, I'm right in front of you," I came all over his whorish face. I'm afraid I'm no Peter North, I've no more than four spurts and the first one is always rather watery, but I nailed him right between the lips with one burst and smeared the rest over his face with the tip of my cock. He froze up rather delightfully during the whole ordeal, barely flinching as I cleaned off the tip in his hair.

I took the microphone and spoke directly into his headphones. I told him he'd been in his predicament for two days so far, that he was to obey my simple instructions, and that if he did he would be allowed food and allowed to rest. I told him that I would not require him to speak at any point during these instructions, and that if he so much as whispered I'd keep him strung up without food for another two days. He nodded in agreement, which earned him a hard slap, as I'd not asked him to nod or shake his head. I told him then to nod if he understood, which he did.

I freed one of his arms at a time, telling them to keep them in place and move them only as and when I told him to move them. He obeyed--a far quicker learner than C1--and I put him into the straitjacket. I unlatched his boots one at a time, putting him in ankle cuffs with a short length of heavy chain between them. I injected him in the buttocks with his first dose of anti-androgens, a painkiller, and his hormonal cocktail, and I removed the IV from his arm.

At that point I led him to his cage, a 2x3 metre cell, 1.5 metres high. I removed his blindfold, though it did him little good as it was pitch black in the entire room--I'd switched off the lights and was working via a set of light amplification goggles--and pushed him onto the wipe-clean bedroll.

"Lie still like a good little boy until the lights turn on, and then you can help yourself to some food," I said to him. He made a sound as if to respond, then silenced himself, lying still in his bonds.

The lights were on a timer, and they came on harsh and bright when I was upstairs, watching him through the CCTV on my desktop with a fresh pot of coffee. Three of the walls of his cage were walled off with a tarp, allowing him to see about a fifth of the basement through the remaining wall. Inside his cage was his bedroll, a doggie bowl full of oatmeal and bananas, a small plastic trough filled with fresh water, and a litter tray.

I considered staying up and watching him, seeing the fear grow in his eyes, his first attempt at eating cold food without the use of his hands, the humiliation of pissing in a litter tray, but I was exhausted. As soon as I've finished writing this entry, I'm going to take a well-deserved nap.

4th October 2018

The truffle salt from Coles is a waste of time. Don't misunderstand me, it's useable, it's palatable, and it has the necessary truffle aroma. "Has" is the key word there, it's got the half-life of Fermium and after a week in the cupboard it's now just table salt with black specks in it. I think I'm going to invest in some decent truffle oil at Christmas.

C3 is coming along marvelously. The combination of injections and a high-fat, high-calorie, vitamin-rich diet have had a visible impact on his physique. His skin has softened even further from a clear and healthy surfer's complexion to almost peachlike smoothness and he now has visible jiggle on his thighs, stomach and buttocks. Most importantly, he's now the not-at-all-proud owner of a set of A-cup breasts, complete with sensitive, pebble-sized nipples.

His breasts are extremely sensitive. He's told me as much directly, but I've confirmed it through experimental means. A few light stripes under the nipples with the cane used to bring a wince to his face when he first came under my care, now it brings him to his knees, and the mere sight of the thing leads him to cry and whine rather prettily.

He did have some issues with portion control, in that he wasn’t eating the full servings of food I had prepared for him. This was unreasonable and short-sighted on his part: while plain, I have not asked him to eat anything that I wouldn't willingly eat myself, and while I am not a professional cook I am certainly a talented amateur.

The solution was a simple one: if even a smear of food remains in his dish, I do not feed him for the next two to four days. I only had to enforce this rule twice, and he's finished every meal I've put in front of him for the past two months.

He's gone without sleeping for the last forty-eight hours, he's gone without speaking for the last three weeks, and I've added a low dose of LSD to his drinking water. Tonight he should be somewhat tractable for the induction of a hypnotic state. I am not trying to control his behaviour--there's nothing I want him to do that I couldn't compel him to do through more reliable means--but for an in-depth interview. In concert with a lie detector and a regulated dose of barbiturates, I am going to make him bare his soul to me.

There are a few specifics I'm interested in, such as confirming my assessment of his sexuality and gender identity, and it never hurts to shore up my security by inquiring of any planned means of escape or rescue, but in great part I am doing this for morale effect: I want him to have no respite from me, even inside his own mind. He will learn that he has no more control of his thinking than he does of his eating, sleeping or exercising.

Speaking of which, I had to leave him in an armbinder for a few nights when he insisted on doing press-ups in his cell. The additional restraints distressed him greatly, and he's seemed afraid to even move lest I restrain him further. That was back in August, and I have since acquired an elliptical trainer which I allow him to use daily, good behaviour permitting.

I will write again tomorrow with details of tonight's interview, and I only hope it's more productive than C2's interview was.

5th October 2018

Well, that was elucidating.

I left C3 unrestrained for the interview. It was his first time free of shackles and cuffs outside of his cage since he'd arrived, as I wanted him to be relatively comfortable and I was confident that his drug cocktail would prevent any serious escape attempts.

He is not a natural hypnotic subject and I was only successful in inducing a semi-trance state. I don't think he achieved a trance, but I think he believed he was in a trance, and for my purposes that was more than sufficient. He talked for hours and provided an unabridged history of his life so far. His parents, his brothers, his schooling, his love of surfing and camping, his romantic attachments and rejections, his childhood friends and bullies, his fear of dogs, his earliest memories, his deepest shames, enough to fill a short memoir.

The interview lasted for ten hours, with breaks every two hours to allow him to pee (as I'd also allowed him to drink lime cordial from a cup while he spoke) and to adjust his dose of drugs and deepen his trance state. He cried frequently and easily. He bears a great amount of shame and guilt for someone so young and so relatively innocent--raised by Catholics, naturally--and spent half of the fifth hour in uncontrollable hysterics. I let him rest his head in my lap and stroked his hair as he cried, and he clung on to me like a man drowning. Once he ran out of tears he had a bout of cathartic laughter, and after that a calm passed over him, and he remained in a state of detached, cooperative calm until I ended the interview.

Of course, most of this was filler and background information for the parts that truly interested me: his sexuality and gender identity. Both were perfect. His sexuality is less important but still delightful. He is entirely heterosexual and repulsed by men. He still has nightmares about the one time I have molested him so far, when I coated his face with cum shortly after his chapter. You wouldn't believe how hard I got as he told me that!

He sometimes masturbates in his cage, which he tells me is mostly from boredom than any sexual desire, and he fantasizes about sex with women. He has little interest in sadomasochism, no interest whatsoever about taking a submissive role, and aside from a weak interest in pegging he is plain vanilla. He has fantasies about sex in public, fucking multiple women, being woken up by receiving oral sex, and seducing older women.

His gender identity is much the same: male, through and through. He has insecurities about being slight and physically unimposing--related to bullying in school--and about being insufficiently masculine. He takes pride in the callouses in his hands and the scars on his body from surfing, and wishes that the thin, pale stubble on his face was thicker.

It's of little surprise then that he finds the changes from the hormones to be a cruel and unwanted imposition. His breast growth makes him feel powerless and disgusted with himself, he can feel his muscles weakening, the tenderness in his breasts is terrifying and degrading, and even the topic of penile and testicular shrinkage made him choke up and sob. He says that even when I allow him to sleep, his mind feels clouded and he finds it increasingly difficult to identify the particulars of his emotional state, which swings and changes in ways he is not used to.

Again, I must reiterate how promising this is. My experiments concern the induction of sexual neuroses and physical development on non-consenting subjects. C1 was unsuitable because he--well, she, more likely--was a little too keen to embrace the role I had planned for her.

C3 is sleeping now. I haven't actually left our impromptu "therapy room" and he's drifted off with his head in my lap. He needs the rest. I have big plans for him, after all.

24th October, 2018

I took a trip to the cinema today. Specifically the single-screen cinema in the back of the adult bookshop. C2 is turning tricks for the manager. I don't think it's his first career choice but for some reason he's been unable to get a job anywhere else in town. He tried being an independent streetwalker for a while, which didn't work out well for him as he was quickly picked up by the local police and treated rather roughly. Almost as if they were keeping an eye on him!

The manager of the adult bookshop got in touch with him, I believe he was waiting for him outside the local lockup in fact, and informed him of a safe, reliable means of plying his trade. Now he sucks cock in the back room cinema along with a handful of other whores in exchange for a roof over his head and ten percent of the ticket sales.

He was apparently given a second tour of the police cells for not handing his tips over to the manager in a timely and honest manner, so his left eye was still swollen shut when I saw him today. His garb was delightful: pastel pink yoga leggings with the Adidas stripes down the sides, and a duck egg blue midriff-cut t-shirt with "BOY" on the chest, with a female gender symbol in place of the O.

I sat down next to him in the otherwise empty cinema and flashed him my ticket, which had set me back $84--worth every penny--and he flashed me a charming smile. There was no glimmer of recognition in his eyes, like all of my experiments and side projects he'd never seen me without a mask. He put his hand on my thigh and told me his name, which I've already forgotten. The feature began, a rather energetic video from the noughties with Kelly Wells, Hillary Scott and Layla Riviera, prompting C2 to get on his knees in front of me. He gagged a little when he unzipped my jeans, not because I was unwashed but because I'd applied a generous quantity of deodorant and aftershave so that he would not recognise me via scent.

I enjoyed a slow, leisurely blowjob for the next hour, where he displayed all the basic techniques I'd so painstakingly taught him as well as a few new ones he'd picked up more recently. There's something to be said about consuming porn this way, not just the oral service but also watching the film from the beginning, without skipping forward to my favorite parts or switching between videos, letting myself slowly build towards my climax at the same pace as the on-screen action. I came just before the money shot, pulling out to cum all over C2's face as Kelly Wells guzzled piss on the big screen, and let C2 lick and suck my balls until the credits rolled.

Before he or I got up, I took out $20, waved it in front of his eyes, and then used the notes to wipe cum up from his face. He flinched at the roughness, scowled, told me to cut it out, and put his hand on my leg as if to push away from me. I said three words.

"Punishment position three."

It was as if I'd reached inside him and squeezed. He let out a pitiful squeak, straightened up on his knees, pushed out his chest, put his hands behind his back, closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and let his tongue hang out. I stuffed the cum-soaked banknotes between his mouth.

"Be good, C2," I told him as I stood up. He didn't move a muscle as I walked out of the cinema, and as the door closed behind me, I heard a single muffled sob. It was an enjoyable experience and I certainly needed it after the last few days because C3 has really been a handful.

It began on the weekend when the first signs of lactation appeared. C3 has been getting increasingly upset with the changes to his body, his widening hips, his weight gain, his shrinking musculature, his shrinking genitalia, and his C-cup breasts. The breasts are especially upsetting, he complains that they ache constantly and are tender to the slightest touch. In any case, when the first droplets of milk dribbled out of his nipples something snapped.

Through tears, he told me that he refuses to eat, that he cannot live with the things I am doing to him, and that I should either let him go or kill him. Obviously this is unacceptable. I told him I was not treating his request with any seriousness, and that if he did not eat his meal, he would go without for the next several days. He nodded forlornly, but still refused the food.

I strapped his hands into leather mitts to prevent him from improvising methods of self-harm, and continued as normal. For the next three days, he refused to respond to commands or obey orders, remaining silent and going limp. He wailed in pain when I caned his soles and slapped his tits, but he continued to wallow in self-pity.

He was ravenously hungry by Wednesday, but when I gave him the opportunity to eat, he would not. I left the bowl of food in his cage overnight, and in the morning it remained untouched. He had not thrown it out or despoiled it, he had simply ignored it in an admirable, if misplaced, display of willpower. I gave him one final warning that there would be serious consequences if he did not eat now. He refused, so I applied the consequences.

I fitted him into a padded restraining board, on his back, his arms, legs, chest, stomach, forehead, chin, wrists and ankles held in place by canvas straps. He could not move an inch, not that he was trying particularly hard. A hollow dildo gag with a breathing hole went into his mouth, principally to prevent him from trying to bite off his own tongue. I catheterized him and inserted a hollow plug into his backside, not overly gently in either case, much to his consternation.

Then, intubation. I fed a heavily-lubricated silicone hose into his left nostril. He thrashed and twitched, as is expected when such a procedure is performed without the aid of benzodiazepines. Undeterred, I asked him to start swallowing, lest the tube end up in his lungs. He did as much gagging as swallowing, but after a few eventful minutes I felt the tell-tale glide of it being pulled down his esophagus and into his stomach.

Once the tube was taped in place under his nose, I attached the free end to a pump until it drew fluid out from within him. A few drops of this fluid onto pH paper revealed it to be stomach acid, which hopefully meant that the hose was not in his lungs. I then attached the hose to the feeding machine, and explained to C3 exactly how it would work.

He would have his meals and water combined into a slurry, kept at a cool four degrees celsius, and injected into his feeding tube. The pressure inside the hose would make breathing difficult or impossible while the food was being pumped, and the volume of his meals--around a litre and a half of slurry--meant that each feeding would be spread out in thirty second bursts, delivered semi-randomly over the course of an hour.

As I told him this, I undid my belt and began to masturbate. Despite the obvious temptations, I had not molested C3 in an overtly sexual manner since that first facial at the beginning of his captivity. By combining molestation with removal of autonomy, I wished to impress upon him the importance of obeying me with whatever autonomy I allow him to have.

I pressed the button on the feeding machine as I approached my climax. C3 squealed and gurgled like a drowning cat from the sensation of ice-cold sludge pumping through a tube in his sinuses and down into his throat, choking as the diameter of the tube expanded enough to cut off his breathing. He thrashed in his restraints with such force that he almost moved the gurney beneath him!

Seeing tears stream from his eyes was too much, and his eyes were precisely where I aimed. I landed a good few ropes on each eye, which he scrunched shut in disgust. When the tube stopped pumping I pried open his eyelids with my fingers and made sure a good quantity of my burning, stinging cum got in each eye, then smeared the rest across his face. He tried to blink it out, with little success, and before he could do much else I applied the padded blindfold. He hates and fears the eye-shutting pressure from the neoprene padding at the best of times, and wasn't overjoyed to wear it with his eyes gunked up with sperm.

He's been like that for the last three days, unable to move, speak or see, fed three meals a day through his nose. The only interaction he's had is when I've unrestrained his individual limbs and allowed them some movement, one at a time, to prevent bedsores and deep vein thrombosis, and when I come down to grope his sensitive tits. He is only able to relieve himself through the catheter and through enemas.

After a few days of stick, he's almost ready for the carrot. Tonight I am making pork carnitas with soft tacos, which he has told me is his favourite meal. I have also purchased one of the Harry Dresden books, which he told me he is an avid reader of. When dinner is ready, I will make him an offer: he will ask me for normal food and apologize for forcing me to use the feeding tube. In return he will be allowed out of his restraints and returned to his comfortable cage, along with his favourite meal and a good book, which he will be allowed to read during his spare time as long as he behaves himself.

I hope he accepts, for his sake and mine.

16 November 2018

C3 had his first true milking today! I've been teasing dribbles of milk from his nipples with my fingers for weeks, but today the volume was so high that I had to deploy a handheld breast pump. He whimpered for the duration but was obviously relieved by the reduction in pressure. It was as if he found the whole ordeal rather humiliating.

The milk is rich, a touch gamey, and less sweet than expected. I don't think the taste will be anything to write home about while his stress levels are so high, and I think that will be the case for some time. I've taken half for myself, and I'm mixing the other half into his food.

He's been docile since the force feeding. The intensity and inevitability of the punishment is part of it, but the rewards are equally important. My deal is that he can ask for anything once. Obviously I laugh at certain requests--he's not getting a phone or a two-way radio--and some things require compromise, but otherwise I have been accommodating. His cell now contains a lamp he can turn on or off, two dozen books and graphic novels, an old mp3 player, and a box of wet wipes. His relief from the constant boredom of being confined in a cage for twenty hours a day is palpable, and he has chosen the comfort that obedience brings over the misery that stems from disobedience.

He has asked if he'll ever be free from this basement and I truthfully said yes. One day he'll be walking around outside free of physical restraints and he will sleep at night in a bed he can truly call his own, though I'm unsure if he'll ever truly be free of me. He takes comfort in the fact that he has not yet seen my face or anything that might identify me, as he reasons that I am therefore not incentivized to bury him in a shallow grave to protect myself. His conclusion is correct but his premise is wrong; he'll know who I am eventually and I still won't fear him.

I'm currently milking him once per day regardless of his feelings on the matter, and I think this has hidden from him the fact that he now needs to be milked. Without his daily milkings the pain in his breasts would become unbearable, and soon he will develop mastitis if he's not milked. This will form another important part of his development: begging for things that are distasteful but necessary. With the exception of the wet wipes, there is nothing inherently humiliating in the things he's asking for. I believe he'll find begging to be milked intensely humiliating, and more humiliating still because of the tolls I'll extract from him when he goes down that road.

A brief note on his physical changes: his breasts are bigger but they remain C-cups for the time being. There are now a striking set of stretch marks on the sides and undersides of his breasts, along with some smaller, subtler ones on his thighs and buttocks which have also thickened up nicely. At some point I'm going to give him a regular schedule of retention enemas until he gets stretch marks on his belly befitting a pregnant little broodslut. His skin is delightfully soft and I'm shaving his face daily until the home electrolysis kit arrives. The combination of hormones, daily exercise bike sessions, and a lack of any upper body resistance training has changed his physique from a surfer's build to a more bottom heavy one.

As soon as I have finished writing this entry I am going to give him two gifts. The first gift is an ear piercing. It will be home to a yellow plastic tag, a miniature version of a cattle tag. The second gift is his name. He's not C3 anymore, and he's certainly not whatever stupid name he called himself before I acquired him. He has lovely tits and he's a milk cow, so his name will be Cowtits.

Cowtits. I think it suits him.

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