I love writing fan fiction, man. When I say I'm writing post-CA:WS Stucky fan fiction, people just expect big drama and tears, but here I am writing this:
Steve looked at Sam in complete confusion. Or maybe he understood, but was too stunned by how bluntly Sam was saying all of it.
“Steve, he’s… He’s a duckling right now.” Sam said after a moment.
And Steve...
“What…?”
Even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t have hidden how absurd that sounded to him.
“Bucky isn’t...”
“He is a duckling.” Sam repeated calmly, as if that somehow made perfect sense. “And he’s learning how to swim. Maybe it sounds stupid to you, Steve, but right now he’s as vulnerable as a little duckling learning everything about life by watching its mother duck. And that’s you.” He pointed a finger at him.
Steve still felt like he wasn’t following, probably because of how bizarrely colorful the comparison was.
“And it’s up to you to show him how to stay afloat properly… Because, man…” Sam admitted quietly, “I’m scared both of you are gonna drown. The weight’s gonna drag you both under.”
“I can handle it" Steve said with a conviction that sounded far less certain than it should have.
Well, I tried to translate the first chapter of… well, about eighty I currently have written. The story currently runs 267,840 words and is being translated from my native language, so please point out any mistakes, as English is not my native language :)
This is the first chapter, and I'm curious if anyone would be interested in reading it so I can get serious about it and upload it to AO3 and maybe Wattpad. The story spans from 1945 to the events after CA:TWS, exploring Bucky's entire past, his relationship with Steve and how Bucky must relearn how to be human again and love Steve agian.
The initial chapters may seem disjointed due to their fragmented scenes, but that's intentional. It's not meant to have coherence, just as time doesn't for Bucky. The format will change over time.
***
Once, he thought he knew hunger.
Back then, after they pulled him out of Azzano, he spent most of his time half-starved, always hungry, always living with that unbearable hollow ache gnawing at his stomach - an ache he eventually learned to ignore. He hadn’t had a choice. He couldn’t just… No… Yes, he had thought he understood hunger. But he’d been forced to reconsider.
He didn’t know what he had done this time, what they were punishing him for, why Lukin had left him again. He had tried to obey. He hadn’t caused problems anymore; he didn’t even scream now. He wasn’t stupid or naive enough to think that would help. He knew fighting only made things worse. He didn’t cooperate with them, but he didn’t fight anymore either. Not anymore. He had become passive. Maybe that was what angered them. He should’ve realized sooner. They had enjoyed watching him fight back. Even weakened, he had still been strong, but they always knew how to deal with that, how to remind him who was truly stronger here. And it certainly wasn’t him. But once he stopped fighting, once the game stopped being entertaining, they no longer needed him. He had already sung them every song they wanted to hear. He had no value left.
No one was coming for him anymore. He was dead.
They wanted to break him. They wanted to kill him. And they were doing it systematically. Every day there was less of him left; he could see nearly every bone pushing visibly against his yellowed, swollen skin. Whenever he pressed claw-like fingers into it, deep indentations remained. Lately, though, he no longer even had the strength for that. Now he understood what real hunger was. It wouldn’t let him think, wouldn’t let him sleep, wouldn’t let him live, but it wouldn’t let him die either. His body rebelled against him, refusing to let go, leaving him trapped somewhere between existence and death. Earthly remains. That was what he was now. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve a death like this. He wasn’t stupid; he knew exactly what was happening to him. He knew his body would slowly begin devouring itself. He knew starvation was a slow death. Why couldn’t they just kill him? Go too far one day, damage him badly enough to decide he wasn’t worth keeping alive anymore? Maybe then they would take pity on him, shoot him in the head, inject something into his heart, finally let him rest. What had he done wrong? He had tried. He had done almost everything he could to stop Lukin from leaving him again, but it hadn’t worked. He had only made things worse. Almost… He had done too little. He had been too ungrateful. Yes. That was it.
He pressed his forehead harder against the cold concrete floor when the cell door opened and light spilled inside. It wasn’t bright, more dull and muted than anything else, but it blinded him anyway. He would’ve thrown up if he’d had anything left in him. He didn’t lift his head or look up, not even after the direct order. He didn’t have the strength to move anymore, not even with punishment hanging over him. Maybe if they beat him, he’d die faster. Still, he cracked his eyes open slightly and froze at the sight of approaching legs, razor-creased trousers, and polished black shoes, familiar shoes. Was he hallucinating?
He felt someone grab his face and tilt it upward. He didn’t fight it. Didn’t resist. He didn’t have the strength to protest anymore. His eyes widened in shock, and suddenly he wanted to sob like a child the moment he saw Lukin’s face above him. He came back. He came back, forgave him, and would take him out of here, wouldn’t let him waste away, rot, and die here. He came back and spoke to him, though Bucky couldn’t understand the words. He still couldn’t understand him, forcing Lukin to use that language, the one he hated, despised. How could he be so selfish?
— Oh, kotyonok… and you see what they do to you whenever I leave you alone?
Hands hauled him upward and forced him into a sitting position with his back against the freezing concrete wall. The sudden movement made his head spin so violently he barely managed to suppress the dry heaves wracking his empty stomach. He didn’t answer. Didn’t look Lukin in the eye. Didn’t look at him at all. Didn’t look at anyone. He couldn’t do anything wrong again. Otherwise Lukin would leave him again, leave him alone with them. They would leave him here again. He couldn’t make a mistake.
— Are you hungry?
He dragged his tongue over cracked lips. He couldn’t make a mistake.
— I will eat if you decide I should eat — he recited mechanically, choking slightly on the last word. He wanted to vomit. Lukin patted the side of his head, apparently pleased with the answer.
— Very good. You’re finally beginning to learn. Perhaps we’ll manage to purge all that American rot from you after all.
Lukin tapped his temple once more before stepping away, but before Bucky could react, before he could make a mistake by lunging after him in panic, something was shoved into his hands while something else clattered onto the floor beside him. The smell alone made his stomach lurch into his throat. The object pressed into his hands turned out to be a cup of still-warm coffee - coffee, coffee, real coffee - which he immediately clutched against his chest protectively before even glancing at the tray beside him. A bowl of something resembling stew and bread, roughly a quarter loaf, he estimated.
He didn’t understand. Was this a test? Yes, it had to be a test.
But he was hungry.
No.
— You need to gain weight. Otherwise you’ll never build muscle — Lukin said before the door closed behind him.
For several hours, he didn’t dare touch the food.
***
One day, they threw a newspaper into his cell and told him Captain America was dead.
Bucky didn’t believe them.
He didn’t believe them. Of course he didn’t, because they were fucking lying. They had to be lying, because Steve was alive. Steve would never leave like that. Steve would come for him… Steve would come. He already had once, back when it should’ve been impossible, because if anyone in the world could do the impossible, it was Steve. Bucky just had to… he just had to hold on. One more day. Just one more, and then another, and...
They threw in another paper with an even bolder headline, and then they told him that if he wanted, they could show him the footage. It had been a global event. The whole world mourning its hero. They talked about it as casually as if they were discussing the weather. As if it meant nothing.
Bucky didn’t believe them.
One day they dragged him out of his cell by the legs and told him Doctor Lukin wanted to see him.
Lukin held him by the jaw and forced his face toward the footage playing endlessly on the projector screen. Again and again and again. Bucky no longer knew how long it had been running. Time had stopped meaning anything; everything had blurred together into one endless stretch of existence. It didn’t matter whether it was day or night anymore. Nothing mattered. Everything in this place would always remain the same. The sun would never rise here.
Bucky didn’t believe them.
And yet once again he watched the coffin being lowered into the ground. He couldn’t look away no matter how desperately he wanted to. Even though the speeches barely reached him anymore, he knew he could recite every single word by heart.
— So, my dear… do you still think your Captain is coming to save you?
It felt as though someone had torn his heart straight out of his chest.
Bucky didn’t… he...
When they finally dragged him back into his cell, he stared blankly at the black-and-white newspapers scattered across the floor. It felt like lifting one took an entire lifetime, and reading the words took even longer. Understanding them. Accepting them. He tore the papers apart as violently as he could with one hand, his teeth, and his legs, then hurled the scraps across the cell while screaming into the emptiness.
Steve Rogers is dead.
Steve is dead.
Steve…
The words didn’t sound real. They sounded blasphemous. Like a lie no one should’ve been allowed to say out loud.
A strange, strangled sound clawed its way out of his throat, like he was trying to speak but couldn’t force air into his lungs. Every pulse of his heartbeat felt like it was splitting him apart from the inside. He ignored the tears he’d managed to hold back until now, or maybe they simply hadn’t come before because of the shock, because of that hollow denial numbing everything inside him. Bucky didn’t want to believe them, but he had seen it. He knew. And he...
The tears came hot and silent, painfully real as they slid down his cheeks, leaving streaks through the grime on his skin. He cried in a way he hadn’t cried since childhood. Not like a soldier. Not like… He cried like someone who had lost half his soul.
In his heart, Steve had always been more than… more than Bucky could ever put into words. He was home. He was like a missing piece of Bucky himself, something carved out of his own body and made to fit perfectly beside him until they became one whole thing together, and without him nothing made sense anymore. Every touch, every memory, every night beside a fire and every whispered conversation in the dark came rushing back with crushing force.
He wanted to say Steve’s name, but it felt impossible somehow. Like he wasn’t allowed. Like he physically couldn’t...
He curled up on the concrete floor, wrapping his remaining arm around himself as the sobs finally overtook him.
***
Every day, they reminded him Captain America was dead.
Where is your Captain now? they would ask while dragging him from his cell. At the bottom of the ocean, Bucky thought. He fought them and spat at them even when they slammed him onto the floor with a boot pressed against his throat, as though the mere mention of Steve filled him with fresh fury. He’s not coming for you, they told him while kicking him, yanking him around by the hair, tightening restraints around his body and strapping him down. No one is coming for you.
Steve would have come.
Steve would have come for him. He never would’ve left him in a place like this if he’d known, if he’d been able. But the truth was that he couldn’t, because Steve had flown a fucking plane into the goddamn ocean to save the world, because that was who Steve was. But Steve would have come. He would’ve wanted to. He just couldn’t.
Steve thought you were dead, his own mind whispered back at him. He watched you fall and fall and fall, and he thought you were dead. He couldn’t search for a dead man in the middle of a war. Why would he go looking for a corpse?
Steve died believing Bucky was already dead. And Bucky wished he’d died with him. They should’ve gone to the grave together. They lived together. They should’ve died together.
Where is your Captain now? they asked.
Far away from here. Thank God. Even if the thought itself was blasphemous, because Steve deserved life more than anyone else alive. He deserved miracles and resurrection more than anyone else—more than Jesus Christ himself—because there had never been anyone as good, as perfect, as Steve Rogers. Even if it was blasphemy, Bucky still thought death would’ve been kinder than this.
Where is your Captain now? they asked again.
Far away from you bastards, Bucky thought. Or maybe he said it aloud. Maybe he only realized he’d spoken when the metal rod smashed into his face. He felt the bone in his cheek crack beneath the blow and collapsed immediately, unable to catch himself with only one arm and the useless stump where his left shoulder ended.
He’s not here. Steve’s gone, Bucky thought while they dragged him upright again, wrenching his arm in ways it was never meant to bend. The horror of it forced something almost like laughter out of him—or maybe it was sobbing—and the blood in his mouth tasted equally like disgust and defeat.
Steve isn’t here.
Thank God.
The next hit knocked him down again.
After that, they stopped trying to pull him back up.
Steve, he wondered, even though he already knew the answer to the questions clawing through his mind. Steve, how could you leave me here? Why didn’t you take me with you?
— Well… you died, — Steve answered sadly from somewhere above him. Bucky knew Steve wasn’t really there. He was just losing his mind. — What was I supposed to do?
Bucky looked up at him, and Steve shrugged. Small. Skinny. The Captain America uniform hanging loose off his body. Bucky blinked, and Steve wasn’t there anymore.
Of course he wasn’t.
Steve was dead.
***
And he healed.
Far too quickly, though still not as quickly as Steve would have. Whatever Zola had done to him worked well enough to keep him alive, to force his bones and wounds to mend with terrifying speed. He still wasn’t Steve, but then again Steve had never become something this starved and skeletal.
Bucky healed. And that frightened him almost as much as the fear curling through him every time someone other than Lukin appeared in the doorway of his cell.
Oh, kotyonok… and you see what they do to you whenever I leave you alone?
Steve had left him too.
Because Steve was fucking dead.
Bucky wished he was buried beside him.
***
Sometimes they fed him several times a day. Sometimes once. Sometimes no one came at all for days, maybe weeks. He couldn’t tell anymore, because nothing in this place made sense—not time, not routine, not anything. It felt like at least a week had passed since the last time the cell door opened.
The relief he felt when Lukin stepped inside disgusted him.
— It needs to be cleaned — Lukin told the guards following behind him.
It took Bucky a moment to understand not only the words themselves, but the fact that Lukin meant him.
He didn’t even fight when they hauled him to his feet. Something about it felt wrong immediately, because they weren’t dragging him by the legs this time, and Lukin stayed beside him the entire walk through the twisting corridors. The concrete burned cold beneath his bare feet, and they moved too quickly for him to keep up, but he had no chance to stop. Not until they shoved him into a freezing tiled room lined with drains in the floor.
They could’ve brought him here earlier. Would’ve saved them the trouble of scrubbing his blood off the concrete.
— Strip it and wash it — Lukin ordered with a dismissive wave toward Bucky before speaking several more words Bucky no longer understood.
Bucky spoke before he could stop himself.
— What…?
Lukin gave him an almost disappointed look, and one of the guards struck him across the face. He staggered but didn’t fall, held upright by their grip.
— Oh, kotyonok… I thought you were finally learning.
Something in Lukin’s expression kept Bucky from resisting when they ripped the filthy sweater from his body and dragged his pants off after it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had the chance to bathe. Months ago, probably. Long enough that he’d stopped caring. Long enough that he no longer cared about standing here completely naked.
When they shoved him against the freezing tiled wall, he had to brace himself against it just to stay upright on trembling legs.
They pinned him there. One guard holding him from the left, another from the right. Bucky’s heart began beating far too quickly the moment he noticed them uncoiling the hose.
— Wait… wait!
This time no one hit him for protesting out loud, but the blast of freezing water slammed into his chest hard enough to rip the breath from his lungs. He screamed, maybe in protest, maybe purely from shock, and tried instinctively to twist away, curl inward, escape somehow, but the guards held him there while the freezing stream battered his body for what felt like an eternity.
Lukin stood at a safe distance watching him, quietly reminding him to stay still.
By the time the water finally stopped, Bucky was so numb from the cold he could barely feel anything at all. The moment they released him, he collapsed, but they hauled him upright again immediately. He was so numb he barely registered the rough hands scrubbing at his skin afterward, washing him with something chemical-smelling that burned into the half-healed wounds scattered across his body.
They scrubbed him clean, shaved him, and cut his hair so roughly he thought for a moment they were going to scalp him.
— Don’t move — Lukin reminded him before they grabbed the hose again.
He couldn’t. He wasn’t trying to run anymore, he physically couldn’t, but his body still trembled violently against the freezing stream that left bruises blooming beneath his skin.
But this time he stayed standing when they let him go.
— Good.
Lukin sounded approving. Like Bucky had accomplished something worth praise. As though there was something to be proud of in standing naked beneath too many watching eyes. Bucky couldn’t focus enough to understand what Lukin was saying to the guards anymore. The only word that reached him was clothes.
Lukin seemed pleased. And that meant maybe he’d come back tomorrow. And if he came back, maybe he wouldn’t leave Bucky alone with the guards.
That thought made him sick.
Part of him wanted Lukin to leave him with them. Maybe eventually they’d beat him badly enough to finally kill him. But another part of him was terrified of being left alone with them, because when Lukin was there the pain was less.
Bucky flinched harder at his own thoughts than at the guards touching him. He flinched because he understood exactly what was happening inside his own head. He understood the slow changes taking root there, and he was disgusted by them, because he knew he was sliding farther and farther down a path that led nowhere except deeper ruin.
When the guards dragged him out of the room, all Bucky could think was that Steve would’ve found a way out already. Steve would’ve kept fighting. Steve never would’ve allowed thoughts this pathetic to settle inside his head.
But Steve wasn’t here anymore. Steve wasn’t anywhere anymore.
There was only Bucky, too numb to react to anything happening around him, feeling nothing except the freezing cold buried deep in his bones.
I wish you were here, Steve, Bucky thought desperately, trying to smother the fear clawing through him. But at the same time, thank God you aren’t. Thank God you aren’t here.
Because he knew that if Steve had been here with him, they would’ve found a way out together.
Long before Bucky ever started learning how to survive by accepting he might never leave this place at all.
Human remains (3242 words) by N_rilliree
Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America (Chris Evans Movies)
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Hydra Agents, James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov
Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Aleksander Lukin, Vasily Karpov, Alexander Pierce, Arnim Zola, Brock Rumlow, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanov, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor (Marvel), Clint Barton
Additional Tags: Post-Movie: Captain America: The First Avenger (2011), Post-Movie: Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014), Set Between Movie: Captain America: The First Avenger (2011) and Movie: Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014), Pre-Movie: Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014), Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes's Winter Soldier Trigger Words, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Feels, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Body Horror, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Medical Horror, Blood and Gore, Torture, Objectification, Dehumanization, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Violence, Traumatized Bucky Barnes
Summary:
He was an Asset. A Weapon. And the weapon had no name, only a designation.
_____________________
The story spans from 1945 to the events after CA:TWS, exploring Bucky's entire past, his relationship with Steve and how Bucky must relearn how to be human.
Okay so didnt expect my first ever on Tumblr to be this but here we go. @nrilliree wrote amazing fanfiction about Stucky and in general Bucky Barnes that I read in Polish. And I got inspired by the scene that you can read in her post so I did some fanart because it reminded me about the duck with a knife meme 🤣 So here it is. I am not a pro artist by the way in any means. Also to do this art I use alcohol markers.
Me: He's the absolute sweetest, most adorable person in the world. He's wonderful and I love him. He's my angel, my baby, my darling. You'll never meet a lovelier person than him…
He, in question:
What's with all this recent Stucky hate? First there are tweets like "stuckies think they have the right to live" and tons of tweets about Stucky being the worst thing that's ever happened to Marvel, and now with the Tumblr 100 Ships list, there's hate again about Stucky needing to die, being a terrible ship and "SamBucky deserves to be on this list, Stucky should be long gone*",
What happened o.O?
*no hate on SamBucky, they'll just appear next to each other often, because both involve Bucky and Marvel.
Sam fans, Steve fans, Steve anti-fans and the rest of the MCU-only fans really should stop using this out-of-context comic book panel to emphasize that "Sam is now the real Captain America." Because the context is different.
That's not Steve Rogers saying this. Specifically: That's Steve Rogers saying this, not our good old Steve Rogers, but Steve who was Captain Hydra and believed he was raised in a fanatical Hydra cult from childhood, because this panel comes from the Pleasant Hill comic event and takes place shortly after Kobik de-aged Steve and turned him into a Hydra agent.
By posting this panel you are literally saying that "This fanatical nazi who wanted Sam and all heroes to fail said Sam was real Captain America, so we agree with this nazi and, like him, we hope Sam fails."
Because that's literally the true context of this scene. So no, you definitely don't want "it definitely happened on Doomsday" :P
Why does no one on TB get that Alicent has had it drilled in her that her children will die if Rhaenyra ascends the throne? Like if I truly belive my kids are gonna die if this one person rose to power and would do everything in my power to make sure they don't. Now I feel like she wouldn't have done it if Rhaenyra hadn't married Daemon cause there's no way in hell Daemon wouldn't kill her children to have Rhaenyra ascend.
I'm so sick and tried of seeing people bash Alicent saying "you reep what you sow" as we have literally seen Alicent rule a kingdom! I guarantee you Alicent would have sent letters to Rhaenyra telling her of her fathers health and that she needs to come back! "But Rhaenyra is needed at Dragonstone" no she's not! It literally was abandoned for years whole Daemon was at the Stepstones, or when Daemon left for Pentos and Rhaenyra never went! Like she literally said "it's time for me to take my seat there" which shows she never took care of it!
Well thank you for reading my rant if you got this far.
I won't add any tags because I just want to write something that wouldn't fit in a comment. Since you ask the question.
1) Alicent was planning the usurpation long before Rhaenyra married Daemon. Aemond had already called Helaena "Aegon's future queen" in Driftmark, so it was clear that Aegon would become king for them and that was it. Otto wasn't at court at the time, so that was Alicent's doing. And Rhaenyra was Laenor's wife at the time.
2) If Alicent was so afraid that her children would die… why did she care so much about stoking their hatred for their sister and her sons? If Alicent's sons had sworn allegiance to Rhaenyra and bent the knee to her, what would have happened? Let me remind you that it was the Greens who started the war and sought allies (and still less than half as many houses supported them as Rhaenyra, so - few houses outside tg cared), no one did it for them or for them, so if House Targaryen was united, no idiot would stand before the throne and shout that Aegon should be king. It was the TGs who shouted that themselves.
3) If Alicent was afraid for her sons' lives after the events in Driftmark, then Rhaenyra had the same right to be afraid. Alicent could be afraid because Luke wasn't punished for taking Aemond's eye in defense of his brother, and Alicent wasn't punished in any way for trying to attack a seven-year-old with a knife to deliberately brutally hurt him, or for hurting Rhaenyra. If Alicent publicly attacked a child, what could she be planning when no one was watching? Rhaenyra had the right to think that way, and Daemon was a safeguard for her and her children.
Daemon and Rhaenyra had no plan prepared that would include the death of Alicent's children. None. But the Greens did have a plan prepared to kill Rhaenyra and her children… If Daemon and Rhaenyra really wanted to get rid of her brothers, they would have done it a long time ago. Daemon killed his wife and no one proved it to him, Daemon knew the secret tunnels in the Red Keep, so if he wanted to, his nephews would have met with a series of unfortunate accidents when they were not yet a threat. If Rhaenyra killed them after taking the throne, she would be seen as weak and a kinslayer. But if they were murdered in a brothel or fell down the stairs? No one could prove it to her. And they didn't.
4) Rhaenyra was the princess of Dragonstone and that was where she belonged. Alicent as Queen Consort and Otto as Hand had their place in the capital. Do you really think that if Rhaenyra had gone there, Otto would have given her power? He wanted to kill her the night after Viserys died, so if she had shown up there and tried to wrest power from him, he could have done the exact same thing.
I feel like some of yall need a reminder that the dragons can't just bond anyone. They have to bond someone with Valyrian blood.
Thanks to the blood magic that the Valyrian's did, they dragons are magically bound to only serve those of valyrian blood. The Dragonrider of Valyria specifically.
The Targs, Velaryon's, and Celtigars are the last of the Freehold of Valyria. The Targaryens are the *last* dragonriders. Therefore, they're the only one who still have the bloodmagic.
Nettles was a dragonseed. She had Targaryens blood somewhere along the way. As did Addam and Alyn of Hull, likely through their mother. The dragonseeds are called the dragonseeds because they come from Targaryens. Whether that's an ancestors or a mother or father. There is targ blood in their veins. Because ALL other *Dragonlords* of Valyria are dead.
You have to have Targaryen blood to be a dragonrider in the world of Westeros.
The ONLY other time someone *may* be able to ride without Targaryen blood is a book-only canon of the horn that can bind dragons to one's will.
Did anyone even bother to explain why everyone acts like the prophecy is only about Rhaenyra and her children? Aren't they all descendants of Aegon the conqueror at the end of the day? Why are Viserys and Rhaenyra gatekeeping this "white saviour prophecy" only for themselves? Who even said she or her kids have exclusive rights to call themselves le chosen ones when nowhere in that prophecy is explicitly mentioning them either?
I'm curious about one thing - how did Jaehaerys know the prophecy? Since it passes from king to heir, Aegon I told it to Aenys, and Aenys to his son - Aegon the Uncrowned. Before the fight with Maegor, Aegon decided that he would tell his brother about it? Then he recognized Jaehaerys as his heir, but he didn't announce it at all? (So Jaehaerys didn't usurp his nieces an sister at all?) Or maybe Jaehaerys made it up to make sense of the fact that he was the one who ascended the throne?
But it's logical that he's talking about Otto and Alicent as Hightowers. After all, Alicent after the wedding is still Alicent Hightower, and Otto is even more Hightower, not Targaryen. Do you really think that Rhaenyra, Daemon, Rhaenys and the rest didn't know that it was the Hightowers who wanted to put Aegon on the throne and not Aegon himself?
What exactly is it about Criston Cole that makes half the fandom froth at the mouth? I welcome sound reasoning and psychological analysis, none of that ‘incel’ hate nonsense.
Imo, one of the most straightforward and unproblematic characters on HotD. Seems to be a hot take.
No one is as hypocritical as Criston. Really. He is a man full of hypocrisy, incompetence and hatred. No one in the entire Green brigade arouses in me such a strong feeling… disgust towards man. And they have: a pimp, a rapist and a murderer with an ego complex. But Criston does not have a single positive feature that would work in his favor, because even in his work he is completely incompetent. He is the complete opposite of what a true knight should be. He has no honor in himself and tries to blame his faults on others. He sees flaws only in those he wants, but never in his allies and, above all, himself.
The princess runs away to the brothel on his watch and he doesn't notice? No problem.
Hits the Queen's future husband? No problem.
He murders an unarmed man at a royal wedding? No problem.
Even though he has a night watch appointed by the king, he fails to notice that the prince did not return that night, two other princes left the castle accompanied by two granddaughters of the Lord of Driftmark, and blood was shed? (Viserys asked him where he was) No problem.
He's murdering someone unarmed again? No problem.
He doesn't set guard outside the QUEEN'S chambers as Lord Commander and someone dies? No problem.
He breaks his vows of chastity again and again and again? No problem… as long as he breaks it with Alicent. Because that one time he broke it with Rhaenyra sent him into a spiral of hatred that he's been stuck in for twenty years.
Truly, no one's death will bring me as much pleasure as Criston's, because this man deserved it with all his hypocrisy.
Of course, I have absolutely nothing against Fabien, because I know that an actor is not the character he plays!
TG stans: This is the biggest tragedy that has happened! NOTHING compares to it and is not as bad! TB are monsters, you can't take revenge on the innocent!
*Bitterbridge, where for the death of one child, Daeron burned and murdered the entire village, including innocent children*
TG Stans: Yes! That's right, it's revenge! Daeron is so sweet 🥰
also TG stans: Jeahaera was threatened with rape! This is the worst crime!
*Tumbelton, where everyone was brutally murdered, 8-year-old girls really raped and little boys tortured and murdered, the worst massacre of civilians"
TG stans: They're nameless civilians! TG soldiers and commanders are not TG! It's not Daeron's fault. He is Alicent's best child! These people are worthless!
I reblogged a post with the tag "anti tg", "anti tg stans". From the anti tg blog. Not from the pro tg blog.
And don't you think that this is a different situation, because the comment was about the author being PERSONALLY insulted? Not her post. She as a person. She received offensive anonymous messages. She as an actual real person.
TG stans: This is the biggest tragedy that has happened! NOTHING compares to it and is not as bad! TB are monsters, you can't take revenge on the innocent!
*Bitterbridge, where for the death of one child, Daeron burned and murdered the entire village, including innocent children*
TG Stans: Yes! That's right, it's revenge! Daeron is so sweet 🥰
also TG stans: Jeahaera was threatened with rape! This is the worst crime!
*Tumbelton, where everyone was brutally murdered, 8-year-old girls really raped and little boys tortured and murdered, the worst massacre of civilians"
TG stans: They're nameless civilians! TG soldiers and commanders are not TG! It's not Daeron's fault. He is Alicent's best child! These people are worthless!
TG stans: This is the biggest tragedy that has happened! NOTHING compares to it and is not as bad! TB are monsters, you can't take revenge on the innocent!
*Bitterbridge, where for the death of one child, Daeron burned and murdered the entire village, including innocent children*
TG Stans: Yes! That's right, it's revenge! Daeron is so sweet 🥰
also TG stans: Jeahaera was threatened with rape! This is the worst crime!
*Tumbelton, where everyone was brutally murdered, 8-year-old girls really raped and little boys tortured and murdered, the worst massacre of civilians"
TG stans: They're nameless civilians! TG soldiers and commanders are not TG! It's not Daeron's fault. He is Alicent's best child! These people are worthless!
No one gives my man, Daemon Targaryen, enough credit. He was ahead of his time, specially in Westeros. My man was championing for women's and bastards rights for more than half of his life.
because this is daemon we're talking about. the guy that murdered his first wife with a rock because he didn't like her? the guy who was furious that he was replaced as heir by rhaenyra? the guy that chocked his first wife and queen when they had a disagreement?
daemon didn't fight for rhaenyra because he believed in women's right & was a social activist. he did it because of personal interests & feelings.
like i get the daemon hype but saying that he fought for women and bastard rights (like the bastard in question wasn't betrothed to his daughter) is crazy. he clearly has no respect to rhaenyra's (or any woman for that matter) choices when they do not align with his own interests.
@lizzie-queenofmeigas wrote a post that is correctly tagged as "anti team green", "pro team black" and "pro daemon targaryen". But still blogs that are pro team green come to her post and write comments that are the opposite of her tags.
These tags clearly indicate that you are not the intended audience for this post.
These tags clearly indicate that the author is not writing this post to you.
If team green is screaming that we should get off the pro team green blogs, then leave the pro team black blogs alone. It's enough that hateful anonymous comments from tg stans appear on pro team black blogs over and over again.
You've already attacked the author of this post once, so leave her alone.If any fandom culture is going to work in this fandom, TGs must not only demand that their opinions be respected, but also do it the other way around.
An unpopular opinion about who is most to blame for the events in Driftmark.
Adults.
Not Luke, not Jace, not Aemond, not the twins. Adults who screwed up their job.
It was not Aegon's responsibility to watch over his younger brother. Where was Alicent if she didn't know that two of her three (or four?) children weren't in the castle? Viserys was in bed, we know that, but what did he do before going there? He ordered Cole to do the night guard. Where was Criston if he didn't notice that three princes and two little ladies were walking around the castle unattended?
Where were the rest of the guards? Where were the babysitters?
Leanor slept drunk with grief. Rhaenyra and Daemon were happily playing doctor. Viserys lay in bed. Alicent and Criston were out of nowhere. But where were the guards and care?!
The king's two sons (although Otto found Aegon, one noticed the prince was missing...), two sons and heirs to the throne, two granddaughters of the Lord of Driftmark were walking around the castle in the middle of the night to fight what they thought was the dragon thief. They didn't know it was Aemond, but they went anyway and could have died. Where were the guards?
Notice how long it took them to react to the screams and shouts. If it hadn't been Aemond, the children might have been dead.
If Vhagar had rejected Aemond, he would have been dead.
If Aemond had made good on his threat, Jace would have been dead because the stone would have broken his head.
If Luke had accidentally held the knife differently, Aemond would have been dead.
And no one would notice because the adults screwed up their job. Parents, caregivers, guards.
