OKAY I DID THE GAME AND GOT PROMPT 4 SO IM REQUESTING AN ALASTOR X READER WITH 50 AND 58 PLEASEE 🔵
(also I did the game with my gf and showed her all the stuff I'm into 👀)
Prompt 4, #50 & 58: smut no plot “behave, I wouldn’t want to have to punish you now w/ act like a brat, Ill treat you like a brat”
Alastor x brat!reader
The lounge was buzzing with people.
You were nursing a drink, looking at all the people dancing.
You wanted to dance.
”c’mon Al lets hit the dance floor” you chirped. The red demon shook his head and went back to talking with Mimzy.
You pouted.
You had got all dolled up and he wasn’t even paying any attention to you.
So you took matters into your own hands.
You slipped from your seat and headed to the dance floor, spotting an attractive demon who would love to feed your ego for the night.
You flashed him a flirty smile as you began to dance, encouraging the man to approach you.
He took the bait.
A warm body slithered behind you, hands grasping your hips.
You happily accepted his advances, keeping your smirk hidden when you saw Alastor turn and meet your eyes.
He beckoned you back and you threw your hair over your shoulder, giving your dance partner your attention.
You rubbed yourself the demon, letting his hands roam as you danced to the music.
Warm breath grazed your neck ”why dont we get out of here huh?”
You giggled and before you could utter a response you felt a familiar shadow wrap around your leg, tugging.
A warning.
Behave dearest
You ignored it, shooing the shadow away. You didn’t have to listen to him. You were out to have fun and if Alastor wasn’t going to pay attention to you, then another would do just fine.
”Buy me a drink at least” you purred and the demon happily wrapped his arm around your shoulders, guiding you back to the bar.
Alastor was staring into the side of your face as you flirted with the demon.
The demon excused himself to the restroom and Alastor gripped your arm, lips at your ear “I suggest you stop this behavior darling, wouldn’t want to ruin our night” his voice was void of the radio filter.
You huffed, glaring at him “I am having fun! Something you seem to want no part in”
His claws tightened around you, pulling you into his lap “now now dont go acting like a brat, you dont want to be punished do you?”
You swatted him away when your date came back.
You ignored his warning and turned your attention back to the male.
Alastor had had enough of your antics and bid Mimzy a goodbye, as he plucked you away from your date.
You resisted, pouting and huffing as he dragged you out of the lounge.
”Al! Let go! i was just having a bit of fun. There was no harm-”
He pushed you into a dark alley, your back hitting a brick wall.
You grunted as he pushed you to your knees, shadows restraining you.
He leaned down, fingers gripping your chin, sneering
“You want to act like a brat, then Ill treat you like a brat”
You went to make a smirk remark when a tentacle slithered against your pulsing cunt. “!” You bit your lip.
”You’re not to cum until I see that pretty face smeared in tears and even then I wont stop until you soil the ground”
You jerked against the feeling of the appendage toying with your slit, slipping into your panties and playing with your clit.
You whined as it dipped into your cunt, curling and wiggling around your gummy walls.
In the quiet alleyway, the sounds of your wetness echoed as you tried to hold your orgasm back.
Your face was buried in Alastor’s pant leg as you panted and push your hips back against the squirming tentacle.
Your thighs were sticky with your slick and a small puddle had formed underneath you.
”A-Al please…I-I fuuuck” you whimpered, tears running down your face, smearing your mascara as your cunt tightened.
Alastor hummed, running a hand through your hair
“Brats dont get to cum darling”
44 notes
·
View notes
watched the pilot storyboards, albeit only 3/4 of it, and I like how the pilot made Luz seem more like an outcast eccentric weirdo, which is what she's supposed to be, rather than an ignorant asshole who is borderline terrorist
instead of her waltzing into school with dozens of spiders, snakes and fireworks, that she all planned to use INSIDE the building with a smile on her face and not a care in the world, here she instead only brings one snake to school and that's it. a snake that stays with her and her only, doesn't bite anyone, and whom she also later sets free OUTSIDE school. sure, she mentions that Azura is going to "explode out of the snake's stomach", but I heavily doubt it meant that, if the teacher hadn't stopped her, she was gonna pull out a big pack of fireworks, like the ones she had in the show, stuff them inside the snake's mouth and blow it up, especially considering she called the snake "friend" and seemed to treat it like an actual living being, instead of a book report prop, since she had a bag of food for it in her locker.
honestly they should've kept this scene in the 1st episode, at least partially.
like, the start of the episode would play out the same as in the pilot, except Amity isn't here and doesn't stand up for her, so Luz just quietly sits down at her desk in embarrassment and maybe pets the snake while looking upset or something. it then continues the same, up until she opens her locker.
(by the way, I feel like this scene would work better to show the audience that Luz is a nerd, by looking at all those things in the locker, that are usually considered as either nerdy, childish or both, rather than having Luz herself just tell us that she likes to do nerdy things)
in the pilot, that's where Amity walks by and Luz tries to talk with her, but since she wouldn't be able to be here in the actual show, instead Luz would hear an announcement from the principal that he needs her to go to his office. cut to her sitting in the office with her mom already there, and then it generally plays out the same way it did in the 1st ep – the principal says that Luz's been disrupting classes often and have been making her classmates weirded out and disturbed by her antics, which also simultaneously lead to her having no friends. no spiders in class and fireworks inside building – only her acting overly eccentric and weird, to the point where she might accidentally ignore some of the social norms, like with that book report in the pilot and the school play in the show. then the principal mentions today's geometry class that Luz interrupted and says that this was the final straw – not only because something like that happened however many times before, but also because this time she brought a live snake to class, and while it didn't bite anyone (unlike in the show, where her snakes bit MULTIPLE people, and Luz was just like "oops, guess that's where the backup snakes went haha lmao"), it was still a very dangerous thing to do. Camila would react to it in surprise and ask "Mija, where in the world did you even get a snake?" or something like that, with Luz just kinda awkwardly shrugging in response, while looking down at the floor. after that, the principal offers for her to go to a summer camp, to "get her head out of the clouds", and everything else plays out the same way it did in the actual 1st episode.
if it was like that, then, once again, it would actually make Luz look like just an eccentric nerd, who doesn't actively try to harm or disturb anyone, and just does things that she thinks are cool or fun. sure, she might come off as a bit ignorant, with her occasionally ignoring classes and social cues, but it would be just because she's too passionate about the things she likes and gets so much into them, that she might forget the real world in the process.
but uh... the 1st episode Luz isn't exactly that
letting dozens of small spiders inside class, while not giving a shit about people who are scared of those is not cool or fun.
letting however many snakes roam free and bite everyone, while, again, not giving a shit about them being bit is not cool or fun.
and, fucking hell, setting off fireworks inside the school without a second thought is NOT cool or fun
so yeah, that's all I've got
also I wish the "Why would anyone throw it away?" moment with Eda was somehow kept in the show, because it's honestly beautiful and I love it. I don't know how they'd be able to pull it off in the actual show, since Amity was never able to go to Human Realm there and thus Luz wouldn't be able to make that drawing of them, but oh well, it's good that we're able to see this scene at least in the storyboard form.
50 notes
·
View notes
Hi, everyone! So, I know there's a lot of controversy about Rhys's behavior Under the Mountain (at least in Brazil fandom it's a hot topic), a discussion that is valid and definitely needs to be had, so I did a lot of research on the subject and compiled the three texts that influenced me the most into a compilation that I'll share here — along with my thoughts and additions.
These texts that serve as my supports were made here on Tumblr and can be found under the following titles, although the third one is the most comprehensive of them all:
*Rhysand's Defense Post (The author had only read A Court of Thorns and Roses when she wrote this).
*The Difference Between Tamlin and Rhysand: The Man on the Throne and the Man in the Arena — Acotar and Acomaf's Excerpt Analysis (The author was following the small teaser quotes for A Court of Mist and Fury and analyzed them).
*Understanding Tamlin and Rhysand — A Post-Acomaf Reconciliation of Rhys's Actions Under The Mountain in a Culture of Defeat.
In addition to discussing Rhys's behavior, however, I'm also going to discuss Tamlin's behavior and compare the two. It's going to be quite fun… Just a heads up that I don't want any hate messages. Do you want to share your thoughts agreeing or disagreeing? That's fine, but with respect. Any offensive comments will be deleted.
Now here's my defense post for Rhys:
Leadership is a heavy burden. When you're a leader, especially when it's not your choice but comes to you because of the family you were born into, for example, responsibility can be a burden. But when you're a leader, there's something very important to consider when making a decision: those who follow you.
All of Rhys's actions as High Lord of the Night Court must be thought of to put the well-being of those he is responsible for first. And when he, Tamlin, and the other High Lords are Under the Mountain, he decides that he will be Amarantha's whore to ensure that his Court is in the best possible condition within the situation — he lets himself be raped to ensure that his people and his family remain safe when he could have done nothing.
But from the moment Feyre strikes the deal with Amarantha, he is the only one who is truly in a position to make a difference: the other High Lords do not have enough of Amarantha's trust for her not to suspect anything if one of them tried to bargain with Feyre as Rhys did, for example. If any other High Lord — Kallias, Thesan, Helion, etc. — tried the same thing as Rhys, Amarantha would have been suspicious.
So in this case, he is the only one who can truly act.
But he doesn't have to. The point is that his Court is reasonably safe because of his role in the court Amarantha built, so Rhys doesn't really need to help Feyre win. But he does it, not because he wants his power back, but because he's the kind of leader who will do everything achievable to change — for what he believes is the best — the lives of his people.
And I'll talk about how admirable that is later on when we're talking about the culture of war and defeat, and about Tamlin's behavior.
So, he decides to act, and he tells Feyre in A Court of Mist and Fury:
"I decided at that moment that I would fight. And fight dirty, and kill and torture and manipulate, but fight. If there was any chance of freeing us from Amarantha, it was you." (A Court of Mist and Fury, page 550, Brazilian edition)
He knows, then, that the fight he would have to wage was not the beautiful, heroic, noble thing we're so used to seeing: Rhys knew that his actions to ensure victory — for Feyre and Prythian as a whole — would be horrible and would probably haunt him for the rest of his life. He knows that. And he doesn't excuse himself for a moment. He doesn't invent, he doesn't embellish, he doesn't paint himself as a hero. He knows he's not and he really isn't a hero.
A hero is someone who sacrifices themselves in a grand gesture to save the entire population, a true hero doesn't really sacrifice one person to save others. And while Rhys does have his own share of sacrifices, that doesn't excuse him from the horrible actions he took Under the Mountain:
So, the first part of his questionable behavior in Under the Mountain comes to light: the moment he twists Feyre's injured arm to convince her, to scare her enough to accept his bargain. This is a minor moment and my description alone makes it understandable: he does what he does to keep her alive and charges an insignificant price (which he planned to release her from later, as he himself says) to keep up appearances.
And Rhys needs to keep up appearances because his whole game to defeat Amarantha depends on how he appears to her and to other people: no one can notice while he moves the pieces on the board to bring the advantage to them. No one, not even Feyre, who is the "lamb to the slaughter," so to speak. And she can't know for several reasons:
Feyre is not in a mental condition to act and pretend to hate him as much as he needs her to pretend. So if she knew what he was doing, she would probably let something slip, or wouldn't be convincing enough, because honestly? Who could?
Rhys spent the last 50 years fighting alone and being surrounded by people who constantly despised him for being Amarantha's whore or for those who tried to ingratiate themselves with her through him, so he doesn't trust others easily, even though he was falling in love with Feyre, as he says in ACOMAF.
He couldn't trust that Feyre wouldn't trust others — Lucien and, therefore, Tamlin — with this knowledge. With their mutual hatred, they would surely end up messing things up.
Feyre was there to protect the High Lord who killed his mother and sister — and Rhys didn't know that Feyre didn't know the history behind his and Tamlin's relationship — so, in theory, it made sense that he wouldn't want to show his "true face" to her.
That's exactly what the book is about: like a retelling of Beauty and the Beast, the book is about how appearances deceive. If Feyre found out that Rhys is a decent person right away, it would be the same as throwing the whole intention of the story out the window.
So we have the second — and most controversial of all — point: the dance and the wine. I'm not going to mince words about this: It was sexual harassment. Period. But with this, Rhys manages to:
Get Feyre out of her cell, which is driving her crazy, as she says in this part: "I was alone, locked in silence — although the screams in the dungeon continued day and night. When they became unbearable and I couldn't ignore them, I looked at the eye in my palm." (A Court of Thorns and Roses, page 356, Brazilian Edition). And let's face it, anyone would go crazy in an environment like that.
Keep an eye on Feyre so that no one else could harm her — something he disguises with a comment about not liking others to touch what's his — and that's a curious thing because Feyre never expresses concerns about being abused by others after Rhys starts taking her to these parties (it's also interesting to note that despite the various traumas of what happened Under the Mountain, Feyre never showed any signs of trauma from sexual abuse, as far as I know — and again, not that this excuses Rhys, it's just a factor to point out that maybe she understood his game better than we did).
To leave Tamlin full of anger — which he claims is the main reason for all that theater during A Court of Thorns and Roses — so that he wouldn't hesitate if he had the slightest chance to kill Amarantha in the end or between challenges, no matter as long as he didn't hesitate. Because from Rhys's perspective, Tamlin is the noble golden prince who might spare Amarantha's life to demand some kind of trial or something. Which I consider he might have been dumb enough to do too.
Divert Amarantha's attention, as, thinking that Feyre was already humiliated and abused enough during those nights, she wouldn't give Feyre those ridiculous tasks anymore (like cleaning that filthy hall or collecting lentils from Rhys's fireplace). And if you reread ACOTAR, she really never gives those small tasks to Feyre again after that.
Send a message to those who could read, as Rhys himself says: he crowns Feyre every night, and for the cruel ones, this would be a subtle kind of mockery, but for those who could see beyond the evil, Rhys was declaring Feyre the champion of them all. He declared that he believed in her and in her potential to free them all.
Convince Amarantha that he's still playing on her side — a belief that was shaken by Rhys betting on Feyre in the first task and closing that bargain to heal her arm. This might be the most fundamental of all points: the one that allows the game to continue toward victory. He needs to prove to Amarantha that he's doing it for fun, out of cruelty, considering Feyre as the whore of the whore, someone lower than the lowest of courtesans. Thus, Rhys clears the way to act when the time is right.
By taking Feyre with him to those parties, he moved not one, but six pieces of the game to be in his favor. He killed six birds with one stone. Strategically, it's an incredible tactic, by the way. But morally, this act leaves something to be desired.
So why the wine and the dance? Because Rhysand plays with appearances. Everything in his game depends on it.
Feyre wouldn't play the whore of the whore while conscious, no one with a shred of self-respect would accept that without knowing the reason behind it, and Rhysand, for the reasons I mentioned, wouldn't tell her anything. So he makes her drink the wine to keep the whole purpose of that show and keeps her close to prevent her from being touched by anyone other than him.
But besides that, the wine is a form of escape, a way to forget about the horrors, as Feyre herself says at the end of the chapter where all this happens:
"[…] and I began to long for the moment when Rhysand would hand me the goblet of faerie wine and I could let loose for a few hours." (A Court of Thorns and Roses, page 381).
In fact, Rhys sees it this way: when he is forced to kill the High Lord of the Summer Court (not Tarquin, but his cousin from whom he "inherited" the title, Nostrus), he himself drinks the wine with Feyre — it's an escape from the character he so carefully plays because not even Rhys can bear everything without letting the facade fall, even if only a little.
Note: not that I'm saying this would be a healthy way to deal with all that trauma and accumulated stress, but considering the place they were in and the situation, perhaps it was the most… effective way.
I have to say, however, that all of this doesn't justify what he did: it was still sexual abuse and it's still very bad and very serious. However, I need to point out to you: what we do to survive often does not reflect what we would be in a normal situation (normal being their everyday life without Amarantha, in this case).
When we are confronted with a situation like this, where to survive we end up needing to do something horrible, many say they would never do and would take the noble path of dying before giving up their values and principles, which is great, it proves that you have a very good character. The problem is that Rhys doesn't have the choice to think only of himself and how much this abuse will cost his dignity and principles because every decision he makes affects his people.
So here's my question for you: could you love someone who chose to preserve you instead of saving thousands of innocent — children, women, and men — who are under their responsibility?
Because I couldn't love someone who did that. And that's how I make peace with what Rhys did to Feyre Under the Mountain: I couldn't love someone who condemned the world to save me from abuse that I know I can endure — even if it causes me terrible harm.
Of course, it's entirely valid if you decide not to forgive him for what he did, because, after all, it's a morally gray action when you consider the whole situation they were in and what Rhys did. So, no one is really wrong for not forgiving Rhys for what he did, but those who forgive him aren't wrong either. It's very important that we understand that.
Now, an argument that is often used and that annoys me every time I hear it is that Sarah "changed Rhys and Tamlin's personalities because of shipping", so she ignored everything Rhys did Under the Mountain to make him the hero just because fans liked him.
There are so many things wrong with that that I don't even know where to begin, but let's analyze all of Tamlin's, Feyre's, and Rhys's behavior throughout the ACOTAR and ACOMAF stories and show why I know Sarah did absolutely everything with careful consideration:
There is a trait that is very striking in Tamlin from the beginning of the ACOMAF story and is especially explicit when Alis tells the whole story about Amarantha, Tamlin, and the curse, which is the fact that Tamlin can't deal with the consequences of his actions:
The first time he does this is at the beginning of the curse when he gives up sending his soldiers to die for him, thus Tamlin simply gives up not only freeing himself but all of Prythian, all the people who live there, and still condemns the human lands in the process. He only started sending the soldiers out of desperation after 46 years, look at Alis's speech:
"For two years, he sent them, day after day, needing to choose who crossed the wall. When there were only a dozen left, Tamlin was so devastated that he stopped. He canceled everything." (A Court of Thorns and Roses, page 294, Brazilian Edition).
The second time I can point out is Feyre herself (this because I'm ignoring the events during her stay in the Spring Court, as I don't remember what happened): he takes Feyre to Prythian with the intention of making her fall in love with him, but at the first glimpse of direct danger from Amarantha — in this case, the scene where Rhys makes him kneel — he sends her away.
He gives up saving Prythian because he can't stick to the decision to put Feyre in danger so that she could break the curse, so much so that he condemns himself for it, because Feyre only doesn't say that she loves him — and breaks the curse — precisely because she's leaving:
"— I love you. — He said, and stepped back. I should say — should say those words, but they got stuck in my throat because… Because of what he needed to face, because maybe he wouldn't find me again, despite the promise…" (A Court of Thorns and Roses, page 261, Brazilian Edition)
These are the main events, and perhaps I could list more for you if I reread A Court of Thorns and Roses. But what does this show us? That every time Tamlin makes a decision, he freezes and backs down at the first sign of an obstacle. He retreats and avoids anything that shakes him.
So it makes sense that Tamlin's reaction Under the Mountain is paralysis — a common behavior among leaders in times of war and defeat, by the way, which aligns not only with Tamlin's personality but also with the reaction of a true leader in such a situation.
Alright, let's stop there and go back in time to analyze Feyre's behavior:
Right from the start, we learn that, even being the youngest of three sisters, Feyre was the one who, when they were starving, took action and sought a solution, which shows us right away the kind of person Feyre is: she's the kind of person who acts when forced to face danger, whether it's something intangible, like death by starvation, or tangible, like Amarantha.
This is proven repeatedly throughout the books: when she seeks answers with the Suriel, when she tries to fight off the bastards who tried to rape her at Calanmai (because paralysis can also be a reaction to abuse of that kind), when she goes to Under the Mountain to fight for Tamlin without even hesitating, when she heals from the traumas of Under the Mountain as soon as she has something to focus on, something to dedicate herself to.
And this is one of the fundamental differences between Tamlin and Feyre: while he paralyzes, she acts, and whether we like it or not, differences create friction. Especially with what happened Under the Mountain because she and Tamlin were separated, and neither of them experienced trauma together. Paralysis generates a different trauma from the trauma of someone who is acting, so the end of their relationship begins when she goes to save him Under the Mountain — and Tamlin freezes.
Then we have Rhysand, who is exactly like Feyre: he acts when confronted with danger or defeat and has thousands of actions of his that exemplify this:
As soon as he becomes High Lord, he bans the wing clipping of Illyrian females regardless of the reaction of the Illyrian lords or what they thought about it. It's not that he doesn't care: Rhys, unlike Tamlin, is willing to pay the price that comes when a decision is made.
He becomes Amarantha's whore to protect his people from her getting too close to them. He doesn't care about the cost to himself simply because Rhys knows he's doing some good for his own people by letting himself be raped.
When he sees in Feyre the chance to do something to free all of Prythian, he goes all in knowing that that game would be total defeat or victory. He acts.
When Hybern starts threatening Prythian, he is willing to do whatever it takes — lose a potential friend, hand over the city he loved with all his heart to horrible women, give up his own life — so that they wouldn't fall into slavery again.
When the war comes anyway, he faces it head-on and uses every card he has to stop the King of Hybern: monsters of all kinds, all his power, his own life, and the truth about himself, about who he is.
And these are just a few examples. The fundamental difference between Tamlin and Rhys, just like between Tamlin and Feyre, is how they respond to situations and traumas.
Quoting Teddy Roosevelt (btw, this is a direct translation of the Portuguese version of the quote, so it can be different from the original):
"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."
Feyre and Rhysand are the ones in the arena, they are the ones who fight to be able to act in the face of evil — Amarantha. And it's interesting to note that those who condemn Rhys for the dubious actions he took Under the Mountain never say anything about Feyre committing murder there as well, which is a crime as heinous (or at least should be when it comes to innocent people) as Rhys's.
I'll tell you why: when we're faced with a gray and complex character like Rhys — and we don't know his heart, instead we're "infected" with the main character's partial view — we tend to connect him directly with evil, instead of understanding that this character is neither wholly good nor bad. We forgive soldiers for killing people in a war — that's also a combat in Under the Mountain, so why can't we forgive both Rhys and Feyre?
We forgive Feyre because we know how sorry she is, we know her heart, and we love her. But Rhys? He's the High Lord of the Night Court — which alone triggers some unconscious alerts within us — and he's playing dirty, hiding, and being a horrible person, so why should he be forgiven?
That's what our brain unconsciously thinks sometimes, and it makes us judge some characters more severely. Understanding the duality and complexity of a character is not an easy task; it requires a lot of empathy and an open mind.
But why am I saying this? Because it's important to understand: Rhys and Feyre are extremely similar, and they understand each other at a fundamental level because of that. Tamlin, on the other hand, has a completely different personality. He's the one who freezes, who paralyzes.
Rhys and Feyre experience the trauma Under the Mountain together, so Feyre and Tamlin are separated, which, combined with the glaring difference between the two, makes it difficult — perhaps impossible — for them to heal together because, out of loyalty to the character's nature, Sarah can't make Tamlin talk about what's happening like Feyre needs.
Even after Under the Mountain, Tamlin's instinctive action is to freeze. So he doesn't talk about Feyre's nightmares, he pretends not to see her despair, he turns away from her need to talk about the subject — because looking at her trauma would be the same as acknowledging his own.
And he can't do that because it's part of his nature to freeze. But this isn't healthy, hence the explosions of anger, and hence he locks Feyre up the moment she tries to assert herself: these are the consequences of forcing someone who deals with PTSD by freezing to actually deal with their traumas (that and the fact that he's horrible).
I can understand that (not in his relationship with Feyre, I'm talking more generally here, about him as High Lord, he can rot otherwise) but I can't forgive it like I did with Rhys because, unlike the actions Rhys took, paralysis only allows evil to continue to grow and end up imprisoning us (this is, in fact, one of the reasons why Tamlin didn't try to fight like Rhys while Amarantha was killing Feyre: his lack of previous action left him unable to take action when it was time to "put up or shut up").
While Tamlin's paralysis pushes us down while doing us harm, Rhys's actions, as horrible as they may be, are done in the hope of something good, they're done to move us forward. I can forgive him because I'd rather be someone who does horrible things in the hope of creating something better than be someone who allows evil to continue to grow until it imprisons me.
It's that simple.
And Feyre is exactly that kind of person. She needs to act, she needs to talk about it to heal. She needs to have a purpose, not be coddled like Tamlin — and his trauma — wants her to be.
The relationship between her and Tamlin becomes abusive the moment he tries to stifle her feelings to maintain a state of paralysis. And that's something you'd expect from a character like Tamlin, that's how he was built. But this happens long before Under the Mountain: I remember that on the first day Feyre yields to the dresses Tamlin gave her in ACOTAR, I think it was the morning after Calanmai, she warns herself to be gentle, to be kind, when dealing with Tamlin and Lucien.
But after Under the Mountain, Feyre can no longer accept that her feelings be stifled simply because her traumas are consuming her from the inside out. So she fights back. And that's what completely ends their relationship.
But the point is: both Tamlin, Feyre, and Rhysand follow exactly the line of their personalities throughout the story. They are those kinds of people from start to finish. There's an evolution, of course, but it's an evolution of beliefs, opinions, and perceptions — their essences remain the same.
That's why Sarah is brilliant in these books: by being completely faithful to her characters' personalities, she created a story that discusses abusive relationships, the varied responses of certain types of people to trauma, and the various reactions of leaders in times of war and defeat.
But the point is: none of them were changed to fit a ship, simply because they weren't changed. All three of these characters act exactly the way they should within the limits of their own personalities.
Rhys is the High Lord who plays dirty to create a better world, and Tamlin is a leader who can't make a tough decision. And there's another fundamental difference between them:
While Rhys knows that, from time to time, he'll be forced to make decisions that will end up harming part of his people (and will choose the lesser of two evils), Tamlin still struggles with the enchanted vision of a superhero who saves everyone without exception. And when that doesn't happen — because it's never possible to save everyone no matter what you do — he prefers not to act.
I think the two things that illustrate very well the kind of person Rhys and Tamlin are is the Illyrian tradition of cutting the wings of their females and the Tribute:
Rhys risks a revolt to improve the lives of his people and sticks to that decision, willing to pay the price for it if the result is a better life for the Illyrian females, while Tamlin fails to abolish an extremely unnecessary tax because his inability to act makes him cling to archaic traditions like the Tribute.
So, yes, I forgive Rhys for what he did Under the Mountain, because I couldn't love someone who freezes and leaves me to die. I prefer to love someone who cares so deeply about something — a dream — that they're willing to fight and play dirty for it. And then go to battle to defend it.
Hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to point out points that I didn't comment on; I'll try to respond to everyone's comments!"
25 notes
·
View notes