0310cottage

[0310cottage]

This is about Vespin and Zerxus

[0310cottage]

The Villeneuve Dune(s) can be broadly interpreted as one of the two possible futures Paul sees in the original novel

Spoilers below for Dune Part Two. (And for the original novel, but that's been out since the 60s.)

He had seen two main branchings along the way ahead--in one he confronted an evil old Baron and said: "Hello, Grandfather." The thought of that path and what lay along it sickened him.

The other path held long patches of grey obscurity except for peaks of violence. He had seen a warrior religion there, a fire spreading across the universe with the Atreides green and black banner waving at the head of fanatic legions drunk on spice liquor. Gurney Halleck and a few others of his father's men--a pitiful few--were among them, all marked by the hawk symbol from the shrine of his father's skull.

"I can't go that way," he muttered. "That's what the old witches of your schools really want."

Obviously the Doylist explanation for why there are differences in the new films is that the original book is 60+ years old and has certain elements no longer in cultural vogue that were adapted out or altered to better fit modern sensibilities, and I'm all for that. But I did find it interesting that there is an explicit moment at the end of Part 2 where Paul confronts the Baron, utters the "Hello, Grandfather," line, and kills him.

This isn't necessarily because there is any one choice that Paul makes throughout the course of the two movies that leads here instead of to the jihad. In point of fact, most of the changes that drive him here are caused by choices made in the adaptations of the films.

The causal chain that leads to Paul undertaking the spice agony is his failure to predict the attack on Sietch Tabr, rather than his failure to predict Gurney's attack on Jessica; this is, of course, necessitated by the omission of the Harkonnen scheme in part 1 to impair Thufir's Mentat efficiency and potentially drive a wedge between Leto and Jessica by framing Jessica as the traitor. The final push that causes him to make the decision is, of course, the vision he experiences of an alternate future in which he didn't have to kill Jamis, with Jamis counseling him to climb as high as possible before the hunt so he can see as far as possible. (In other words, he ignores Stilgar's advice of not listening to the djinn.)

Similarly, his killing of the Baron is necessitated by the adaptational choice to keep Alia as a fetus so the audience doesn't have to deal with a two-year-old talking like an adult and killing the Baron, which they probably did because it would have been distracting.

However, I might argue that a Watsonian explanation for the film omitting the two-year time-jump lies specifically with Paul's decision to explicitly disavow the prophecy when Jessica undergoes the spice agony, and to explain to the Fremen that her survival is because of her Bene Gesserit training. He then attempts to secure his position with the Fremen through secular deeds, rather than letting Jessica carve a place for them with the BG prophesy.

This disagreement between the two of them causes her in turn to take a more active approach in cultivating Paul's status as Lisan al-Gaib, which accelerates the timeline of the Fremen being ready to submit to him. In turn, Paul focusing more strongly on guerrilla war against the Harkonnens accelerates the timeline of Feyd-Rautha being put in charge of Arrakis and cracking down hard in the north, leading to the aforementioned crisis point of Sietch Tabr being attacked without Paul's foreknowledge.

Notably, while we do see the shrine of Leto's skull in the film, we only see it in a vision; there is no moment in the movie where Paul explicitly finds his father's remains and enshrines them. Hence, going from a strict interpretation of the film's "text," this is not the future in which the legions are marked by the shrine, because the shrine doesn't exist. It is the other future. The compression of time means that Paul and Chani's relationship is much newer and more fragile and doesn't survive the strain of his apotheosis, and that's what sickens him most.

Of course, the "Hello, Grandfather" path also leads to the jihad, because Paul's tragedy is that his very existence was always going to lead to it, regardless of what he chose to do.

And Paul saw how futile were any efforts of his to change any smallest bit of this. He had thought to oppose the jihad within himself, but the jihad would be. His legions would rage out from Arrakis even without him. They needed only the legend he already had become. He had shown them the way, given them mastery even over the Guild which must have the spice to exist.

Obviously none of this passes explicit, close scrutiny, and is more of a fun "if you squint and look at it a certain way it kind of makes sense." I expect that the line was put in as a nod to the original book, no more or less, but making up head-canons like this is fun for me and if even one other person finds it edifying then I consider sharing it time well spent!

[0310cottage]

you guys insist mal is “better” on the show

im mad that they didn’t let him be angry and traumatized

we are not the same

[0310cottage]

“why don’t they ever suspect Luke why don’t they realize it’s Luke why are they so quick to suspect Clarisse and not a Hermes kid”

guys, Luke is the perfect child. Thats the whole point! He gave his offerings he said his prayers he went on his quest he proved his loyalty to Chiron, to the gods, to his dad. And he did it all with a smile. They have no reason to suspect luke! Luke is the best of them!

Ares could’ve come to that meeting waving a big sign that said “LUKES THE LIGHTNING THIEF” and they still wouldn’t have believed him.

Because they also don’t want it to be Luke.

They love Luke. Luke takes care of them Luke protects them Luke is everything they want in an older brother. It doesn’t matter how blaringly obvious the writers get about who the real thief is. They will ignore every sign, every red flag, every warning, until Percy is dying of poison deep in the forest and Luke is gone.

[0310cottage]

"let women date men" "let women shave" "let women wear makeup" "let women be housewives" "let women get married young" "girl math" "why do women have to work? I would rather stay at home!" "why did feminists want women to work because I don't want to" "normalise women staying at home raising the kids" "why I dropped out of school to get married!!"

[0310cottage]

It's insane that swifties are trying to villainize joe, because he shared a post against the genocide happening in Palestine on "Taylor Swift's Birthday." Mind you it was already December 14th in London when he shared the post. There's a genocide happening on the other side of the world, and the world doesn’t revolve around their favourite white billionaire Swift, who couldn't even come forward in support of Palestinian people. But even if he did that intentionally, it's genius. Because he knew people will be stalking his page today, so he should share something that's actually meaningful and should gain people's attention for serious reasons. My respect for him keeps increasing day by day ❤️

[0310cottage]

thinking about the goofy ass situation that is taylor swift’s nyu commencement address. take a walk with me for a moment.

you’re 22. you’ve just graduated from the new york university. you worked your ass off to get in, worked your ass off for the four years after that, and paid a FUCK TON of money because we live in a capitalist hellscape and it’s nyu. you’re on top of the world.

now it’s time for the commencement speech. previous speakers include the former president of the United States, a Supreme Court justice, and the attorney behind a key same sex marriage case. and who is it this year? taylor swift. ok. previous speakers also include pharrell williams and alec baldwin so maybe it’s just one of those years.

then, ms. swift proceeds to make a half an hour long speech in which she only makes profound observations if she can connect them back to her own music. she then references her next album and dips.

ok. that was… weird. but it’s over now (insert taylor swift reference here.) but wait, what’s this? taylor, musician and speech-giver extraordinaire, has suddenly been granted an honorary degree from the school that you just dedicated 4 years of your life and several hundred dollars to.

Neat. Cool. Excellent. If I was NYU class of 2020, Taylor Swift would be to me as Tony Stark is to every MCU villain. The villain origin story. The final straw.

[0310cottage]

adding to this extremely relevant post — fuck her and fuck her white lady friends for continually being silent on the genocide in palestine. all she cares about is money and she does not care how she gets it. FUCK HER.

it is SO nasty to me that taylor swift will throw away her morals and feminism when it benefits her … i love her music but working with a self-confessed sexual harasser just so she can break into the film industry …. SO FUCKING GROSS I HATE YOU WHITE WOMEN I HATE YOU PERFORMATIVE FEMINISM I HATE YOU HOLLYWOOD I HATE YOU FILM INDUSTRY

#taylor swift #taylor swift critical #anti taylor swift

[0310cottage]

They would be besties 💛 (context)

[0310cottage]

*me, with tears of frustration in my eyes* rick didn't include annabeth's crush on luke or luke's pseudo-crush on annabeth for no reason! it is not something that needs to be cut because it's 'gross'! it serves thematic purpose! it adds to characterization! guys! please!

annabeth is twelve, and luke is the guy she's looked up to since she was seven. she not only has that bond, but she has the admiration from him getting his own quest. she has a lot of hero worship going for him, and it's really not unreasonable that she would like him or even that she would think of him as more than a sibling. beyond that, it's a great example of how a person who has never received real, unconditional love can become unhealthily attached to someone who is not good for them just because they've been shown a modicum of respect. if you want to look at it from a percabeth perspective, it could even tie into how her character has to learn the difference between love and kindness from a place of love and respect (i.e. percy) vs love and kindness from a place of obligation and manipulation (i.e. luke as kronos' vessel)

on luke's side, especially with him calling her his little sister now (in the show) and him literally turning into kronos later, it's symbolism for how he's being pulled farther and farther onto the dark side. as kronos takes over his body, he sees her less and less as a sister and more and more of something else, something that would be considered dark and unhealthy by anyone not on the dark side (for good reason), until eventually she has to remind him of their years on the run when he considered her a sister: "Family, Luke. You promised."

you're supposed to be grossed out by it! that means the theme is working!

you're supposed to see a traumatized 12 year old with a crush on her 19 year old mentor and think, "hey, that's weird! i wonder if her not getting any love or attention until she met him plays a role in their relationship?" and eventually see a 24 year old get a villain-induced crush on a 16 year old and think, "hey, that's really weird! i wonder if his turn to the dark side and how that turn happened twisted his view of her?" and ultimately think, "i wonder what that says about the type of trauma that develops in kids who grew up thinking they were unloved, especially since the author specifically wrote the book for his son with disabilities, the author who used to be a teacher, a profession that regularly encounters kids that are actively being abused and neglected?"

anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk

[0310cottage]

Luke Castellan my child, I am so sorry for the narrative that is about to doom you

[0310cottage]

full fucking offence but for the past 70 days you all have literally seen israel attack hospitals time and time again, bomb residential buildings, flatten entire neighbourhoods, wipe out entire families, bomb places of worship, literally blow up schools, strike refugee camps, block food and aid trucks and cut fuel and water and cell communication off 2.8 million people......... and much more...

you've had the past 70 days of extensive documentation of our genocide. we have been screaming about it for 70 years!

you absolutely can no longer use the excuse of "I don't know enough". you absolutely cannot even lie about not being sure who the aggressor is. you absolutely cannot. we both know you're lying.

[0310cottage]

wine red, tears gold - chapter 2.

king aegon II x baratheon ofc

previous chapter | next

a 'what if aegon didn't get poisoned and the greens technically won the dance but at what cost' au. basically aegon, alicent, otto and jaehaera are the only greens alive. and larys i guess. someone get rid of this guy.

word count: 2.7k

aegon wasn't as badly injured from Rook's Rest like in canon in this AU, he has a few burn scars near his torso but wasn't crippled / bedridden.

content: smut (specifics below cut), canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, arranged marriage, touch-staved aegon, aegon isn't a r*pist in this au but he is still a bad person and has his vices, ofc and aegon need to go to therapy together, justice for jaehaera, awkward sex, kind of a slow burn, infidelity

who wants to live forever - sarah brightman • nothing's new - rio romeo

chapter specific warnings: non-descript smut, blood

Sleep was easy to find that night for Lyanna– her body and mind were exhausted from the events of the day. She felt sore everywhere, especially between her legs. It ached like she had ridden a horse hard for days and she would most certainly need to be drawn a bath in the morn.

It was easy for her to fall into a state of unconsciousness, but it wasn’t a true sleep. It felt very much like being ill with a fever, flitting in and out of being awake, dreams and nightmares dancing behind her lids. Sweat skimmed her brow as she tossed and turned.

Squeak, squeak.

 The Red Keep was the noisiest, creakiest building she’d ever slept in– not even comparable to Storm’s End, which stood tall for generations against the most ferocious of storms, waves crashing against the weathered bricks.

Squeak, squeak.

Lyanna’s eyes fluttered open, light illuminating behind the curtain. She turned to the side, seeing that Aegon was gone, feeling better for it. She couldn’t quite shake how he looked at her last night after they coupled– something akin to disgust and pity, as if she was no more than an inconvenience for him. Mayhaps she was. She rubbed her eyes, wiping away the errant hair stuck to her forehead from sweat, sitting up. A gnawing pain gathered at her lower belly, as if she’d lost something precious to her. 

Stepping onto the stone floor, she slipped on her house slippers. A flash of red caught her eye– blood was on the bed. It wasn’t much, a spattering spit inked into the cotton sheets and it was reminiscent of when her moon’s blood would catch her off guard at times. But this wasn’t her moon’s blood. Her pulse hammered in her neck, remembering Aegon’s words from the night before, her eyes leading to the now dry, stiff cloth on her nightstand, which was also stained with blood. It was a reminder of what she lost– a part of her innocence, a chapter of her life closed. She was no longer a girl, fretting with girlish thoughts and girlish problems– she was a woman, a wife– she was the Queen. 

The realization came to her like a ton of bricks falling on her and her legs wobbled under her like a newborn fawn’s– she was the Queen. People would look to her for guidance, for an example– she felt underprepared for it all and her insides continued to swirl like a storm off in the distance, ever looming, ever there.

Squeak, squeak, squeak.

Lyanna’s eyes narrowed, the incessant squeaking noise that had woken her up was still going– there didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to it, no pattern. Walking to the window, she drew back the curtain and looked outside. It was a perfectly calm, tepid, sunny day– clear skies.

Fetching her house coat, she wrapped it taut around her body, snuggling into it and covering her silken sleeping shift– she didn’t know if Aegon would be out in the solar and didn’t want to chance it. She felt ill at the thought of being… exposed to him in broad daylight. 

Squeak, squeak. Bump. Bump.

The noise was rampant now, irritating Lyanna. She wished to find the source of the disturbance, mayhaps it was something simple, like a window left open or a rat. She had hoped it wasn’t a rat.

The solar was empty upon investigation, the curtains half-open. The noise, now speeding up in its frequency, appeared to be coming from the washroom on the far side of the chamber. The door was ajar by an inch or two. Huffing, she padded over to the door and peeked in.

In hindsight, she very much wished it had been a rat. A big, fat, disgusting rat with protruding teeth and a hundred babies scattered around it. Anything would’ve been better than what she saw.

Aegon, she surmised– his backside to her, a few errant scars and burns littered around his torso. He was naked as the day he was born, his muscles taut as he drilled into a woman– she was littered in jewels and pearls in her matching outfit with Aegon, nude. She had dark brown hair and fair skin, her body undulating and shivering against each thrust Aegon made– Lyanna came to the quick conclusion that she was a whore. Lyanna’s husband was fucking a whore. Fucking a whore in their chambers, with all the vigor and fervor of a dragon, panting up a storm and whispering to her, even smacking her ass and praising her. 

She was going to be sick. She was going to vomit on the floor, cry, scream, confront him, claw the whore’s eyes out– she had to get away. A small gasp escaped her lips unwittingly as she fled back to their bedroom. Her hands were shaking as the image replayed in her mind– she never expected her and Aegon to love one another, she couldn’t ask that of him, of anyone. But he seemed pained to even touch her the night before, to lay with her– he couldn’t even look at her fucking face. Was she so hideous that her own husband couldn’t… she grabbed a pair of embroidery scissors, her body moving faster than her mind. The squeaking noises of Aegon and his whore coupling was going on for well over thirty minutes, when he could barely be inside of Lyanna for three the night before. 

The sound of his voice, the little she had heard, as he whispered to the woman, citing her as beautiful, lovely, sweet– Lyanna clutched her skirt with one hand, the scissors in the other as she began her descent. 

Her hand stabbed into the bed, cutting and slashing around the stained sheet, the edges frayed into a jagged mess. Once the twisted fragment of cloth was free, she discarded the scissors as she slammed through every door she could– out of the bedroom, out of the solar– she didn’t know what to feel, she felt too much. 

The bloody token was clenched in her fist, her knuckles white as she knocked fervently on the door of the Queen mother. 

One of her handmaidens answered, her head bowing, “Your grace–”

“Lyanna?” Alicent’s voice called. She was sitting at a table near the open window balcony of her solar, tea cup in hand. She was still in her nightgown, hair down and flowing behind her. She took one look at her good-daughter’s face and eyed her handmaiden, “Leave us, Talya.”

“This– this is proof,” Lyanna whispered, holding out the stained sheet, “This is proof that I… have done my duty– I tried, I am trying–” she sniffed, tears running down her face as her hands shook violently. 

Alicent’s brow furrowed, her face soft, “Oh, dear girl,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around Lyanna, all encapsulating and warm, “I know, I know. You’ve done so well– did… did he hurt you?” she asked, her voice so quiet it was almost unheard.

Lyanna shook her head as she dropped the sheet, slotting herself against Alicent’s chest, sobbing her heart out. 

“I know it hurts, my sweet girl,” Alicent breathed, “It won’t always hurt. Eventually… you become numb." She moved the two of them to the couch and simply held the poor girl while she shook and sobbed for the better part of an hour. Alicent petted her head softly, not saying anything more until Lyanna’s sobs quieted to simple sniffs. “Mayhaps– we should have you move into your own chambers. It isn’t uncommon for husband and wife to be in separate chambers. King Viserys and I did not… sleep in the same bed for the better part of our marriage. I’m all the grateful for it– you need your own space to curate, to make your own. You are the Queen now, mayhaps we shall set up luncheons with the ladies in your new chambers, hm? We shall break fast together every morn before we go to the Sept, and we should even charter a weekly trip to the Grand Sept– but let me not get carried away with plans so soon. Let us focus on getting you into your own solar, your own bed,” she put her hand under Lyanna’s chin and tilted her head upward, “It gets better, I promise.”

– 

Lyanna returned to their– no, it was Aegon’s alone now– chambers a few hours later, after calming down and breaking her fast with Alicent. It was completely empty now, she checked the washroom, just to make sure.

After properly dressing for the day in a simple blue gown, tying her hair up in a braided bun. A quick peek in the mirror disappointed her slightly– she didn’t look queenly yet, merely a little girl trying to play the part. But it would have to be worked on.

Slowly, she gathered her things– mostly just one or two things to carry, and the rest for the servants to take down to her new chambers. Sometime during her organization, she heard the door close. Expecting it to be a servant, as they’d been in and out for the past hour taking her things, she didn’t turn around. “Please, don’t forget the chest near the door– it has all of my cloaks in it.”

“What’s going on here?” A voice, Aegon’s she quickly surmised, spoke.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as the scene from earlier in the morn plagued her mind. His voice to her now sounded to cold, versus the warm, husky drawl to which he praised the whore with. She took a breath and stood up straight, smoothing out her skirts. “I am moving my things to my chambers.”

“Your chambers? Is this not your chambers?” he spoke with a sarcasm that made her blood boil, his brow raised.

“It is yours. Husband and wife have separate chambers all the time.”

“Did my mother tell you that? It sounds like her words,” he scoffed, walking a bit closer to her. He smelled of musk and fire, something deep and animalistic she couldn’t quite pinpoint. “I must say, it’s quite a record. A mere day it took for my mother to poison your mind against me. Tell me, did she use her infamous line about me being a sinner? Talk about my voracious, impure appetites?” 

Lyanna’s brow knit in irritation, hands clenched onto a half-finished embroidery piece. It was of Sunfyre, Aegon’s dragon, whom she’d never seen, but had heard of. She started it when the betrothal was announced and it was to be a gift for him. The wood of the hoop cracked under her fingers. “Was she good to you, dear husband?” 

He was confused now, tilting his head. “Whom? My mother?”

“Did you purchase her those pearls? Or was that a gift from one of her other suitors?”

Aegon’s face blanched slightly as he cleared his throat. “I don’t know what you expected.”

“What I expected?” Lyanna’s voice quivered.

“Yes, what you expected,” Aegon countered as he clenched and unclenched his fist, “My… proclivities aren’t exactly a secret. You knew what you were getting into–” 

“Don’t– don’t! I expected to marry a king– and yes, I’d heard… rumors. I thought mayhaps you… might’ve turned a new leaf after the war.”

“Fucking hell, you sound like my grandsire. Is that what you expected then? Batting your lashes and exchanging a few words between us and I’ll swear off of other women’s cunts for the rest of my life? Mayhaps if you weren’t so…” 

“So what? Say it, so I know where I stand.” 

“You’re plain looking. You aren’t some great beauty that they write songs about, that men go to war for, hm?”

Lyanna stopped then, her throat going dry. Her finger tips felt numb as an aching feeling spread through her body in waves, emanating from her chest. 

“When my grandsire told me I was to marry one of the Baratheon girls, I’d hoped it to be one of your sisters. Cassandra, or mayhaps Floris. Now that is a woman! Blue eyes always were a favorite of mine. Mayhaps when they come to visit again I’ll stick my cock in one of them– I doubt their husbands are satisfying them as well as they could be.”

It felt as if her blood was on fire, her hands twitching. She could feel her pulse in her neck, her head spinning. She could hardly believe the words she was hearing– it felt as if he had stabbed her and each word was another twist of his knife in her gut. 

“Cat got your tongue, wife?” 

She felt her blood pumping through her body whilst feeling like her body was devoid of blood at the same time. A blank stare came over her, her eyes glazing over. Her mouth was taut in a line. Was it possible for the numbness to hurt? It rolled through her in waves like a sickness and she felt bile rise in her throat. It was acrid, stinging her mouth and poisoning her tongue. 

Her movements were a blur, she could hardly see a few feet in front of her, her body was autonomous as she left Aegon standing there with a shit-eating grin on his face, as if putting her down was some great feat, as if he’d conquered her already fragile disposition and proven himself better.

She locked herself in her new chambers for three days after that, only taking Alicent as a visitor. She didn’t cry– she just hid. She had the mirrors removed temporarily, thinking herself so ugly she couldn’t bear to see her own face, just as Aegon couldn’t even look at her face. 

–

“Have you no shame, son? Where did I go wrong in raising you that you could be such a brute, a monstrous cad to your wife?!” Alicent continued on, going on for the second hour of yelling at him.

“My ability to feel shame was ripped away from me at a young age, mother. You and grandsire should know best about that.” he replied dryly, swirling his wine in his goblet.

“She is a sweet girl, Aegon! A bit naive, yes, but so was I when I married your father.”

“Is that what this is about, mother? You see a small version of yourself in that girl? Is that why you so valiantly protect her– would that make me my father then?” He took a sip. “That is a new insult, quite creative you are with that one.”

“You are hopeless, Aegon.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. We are all fucking hopeless.”

Alicent left, slamming the door behind her.

Aegon stared at his half-empty cup of wine, staring into the red, swirling liquid. He was a vicious, monstrous cad. Not like his brother was, at least he was useful in his monstrousness, bringing half the realm to heel on that geriatric dragon of his.

 Aegon was more akin to a dog than a dragon, feeling the yank of his chain once more. Mayhaps he was a bad dog– he bit the hand that tried to feed him, leaving him starving and alone.

He got up from the settee and moved to refill his glass when he saw a flash of gold in the corner of his eye. Bending down, he picked up an embroidery hoop. The edges were cracked, splinters of dark wood jutting out. The thread weaved in it was golden and pink, in the shape of a dragon– half of one, anyhow. He could spot the likeness of his proudest achievement half a mile away. It was a depiction of Sunfyre, half finished. It was quite good.

He put down the bottle, discarding his goblet for the time being. He wondered who did this– mayhaps Helaena or Jaehaera. 

Then it dawned upon him– he had seen Lyanna holding it when she was gathering her things days before.

Just before he said those things. Hurtful, awful things. His fingertips traced the stitches of the embroidery, amazed that she was able to portray Sunfyre so accurately without ever having seen him.

Aegon’s lip wobbled slightly as he felt tears well up in his eyes. He wasn’t a bad dog– he doesn’t know why he bites. He just does.

taglist: @mariahossain @zillahvathek

[0310cottage]

just so you know

[0310cottage]

learning that self deprecation isnt cool and just makes the people around you uncomfortable unironically improved my mental health a lot. like if you just stop saying negative shit about yourself you will genuinely like yourself more and other people wont be repulsed by your attitude and you will have more friends. it's true.

[0310cottage]

Parenting hack via my father: He was a single father and very stressed all the time. We were pretty crazy kids and getting us to do anything was a hassle. He made up a game to get us to eat veggies/try new things, where my siblings and I were bunnies and he was a farmer protecting his crops.

We would have to sneak into the kitchen and ‘steal’ his crops (cut up veggies that he put out for us), while he wasn’t looking (ie: making dinner/getting work done)

If he saw us, he would get really theatrical and ‘chase’ us with a broom, hollerin’ about pesky rabbits and all that, while we would run away and scarf down the veggies in hiding. Then the game would start again.

A carrot has never tasted so good.

(As an aside, I don’t know how he got any work done in the end, but I don’t know if he actually cared so long as we ate lol)

Amazing stupendous wonderful I’m stealing

[0310cottage]