this is my rage tag

Renegade Rage

Summary: You’re already pissed off, and Dean is just making it worse. 

Pairing: Dean x Reader (Well, sort of implied at the end.)
Word Count: 1330
Warnings: Language, bar fight violence, drinking.
Genre: General.
Challenge: @atc74 and @mamaredd123‘s Fabulous 300 challenge! My prompts were: fight, rage, and Renegade by Styx. I’m only about two months overdue on this. Sigh. Sorry it took me so long ladies, but here it is! 

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My mom watched Jessica Jones recently, without me (since I’m not physically there) and without my dad (probably since I told her that she should not watch it with him because he wouldn’t get it). Her reactions throughout were understandable, sometimes funny (she had a conspiracy theory about Simpson, who she absolutely hated and compared to “an evil version of Riley from Buffy”), but what’s sticking with me most is my dad’s reaction to seeing the last episodes but not the rest of them (he just happened to walk in, I guess). My mom, for the record, seemed exasperated by this.

“I know how she could solve this. She should have just killed him at the beginning.”

It strikes me that, even independently of how he just straight up did not know what was going on in the rest of the show, this reaction perfectly sums up why my earlier supposition that my dad wouldn’t get it is true. I figured he wouldn’t get it because he enjoys things on a very basic level (basically, does this promise the baseline of entertainment that its genre suggests? Is there singing/are there explosions/is there nice scenery? If so, he’s in, and furthermore he considers my mom and I foolish for forming emotional connections to fiction or getting upset about representation or what have you) but in this particular case that basic level is definitely connected to his identity as a person who is privileged in many ways and has never been abused or anything even close.

Of fucking course he thinks the only thing stopping Jess from offing Kilgr@ve is that she just didn’t do it. Of fucking course he doesn’t see, even barring the actual canonical constraints that he was ignoring or oblivious to, why she couldn’t just do it. (This is the man, after all, who frequently tells me he “got over” his own depression, whose mantra is “the only thing you can control is you”  to such an extreme degree that I, and my mom to a degree, immediately blame myself for anything that goes wrong around me and have learned more specifically that when dealing with him if he gets too worked up my only option is to self-flagellate [as calmly as possible, so as not to be accused of diversion or hysteria] and apologize, even if he’s the one who started it.) Of fucking course he reduces it to a simple equation without so much as considering any of the rest of it.

Not only is it an archetypal response, it’s a reflection of pretty much all of his and many other people’s problematic responses to… everything, almost.

Greek Gothic
  • Your keys were here just a second ago. You put them down on the table, turned your back for a moment, and now they’re gone. “The house spirits don’t want you to leave,” your mother says. “Leave out some honey for them. Maybe you can negotiate.” You do as you’re told, before they take something more precious from you.
  • You’re walking back from the olive grove along the dusty road that leads to the village proper. The sun is setting and the warm breeze rustles the reeds beside you. The rustling continues when the wind stops. You feel their gaze on you and look over to see them: black figures with no discernible features, watching without eyes from their place among the tall grasses. Never play in the reeds, you were always cautioned. Now you know why.
  • Tourists ignore the ruins behind your home. They aren’t beautiful, not preserved or retouched like the Acropolis. They are bitter reminders of a fallen civilization, smashed into the earth by hundreds of invaders over time. This temple is scarred and desecrated. The air sparks with the anger of the ancient gods.
  • Fresh spring water trickles down the mountain, chittering and babbling. You stop to take a drink and notice a small child playing nearby. The child beckons you to follow it up the stream, and you do, until the creek gets wider and deeper and the rocks become treacherous and you realize there was no child. You’re knee-deep and alone.
  • The caves are a shelter, you’ve always been told. The caves are where your ancestors hid from the Turks, where brave priests preserved our language and traditions by teaching them to daring children in the middle of the night. When the moon rises, you can still hear their whispering. 
  • The parties run late. The music echoes from the town center as you leave the orange glow of the festival behind, chased by drunken British schoolboys on their spring break. You weave through the twisting alleys of the village until you reach the sea. The Aegean is a friend. She will gladly swallow them. 
  • A deep melancholy has taken you. Your body is weak right down to your bones. Your grandmother, dressed all in black, gives you a necklace bearing a bright blue eye. She spits on you, then gathers the women in the garden for murmured prayers. Together, they chase away the Evil Eye. 
  • Families huddle in the cement skeleton of an unfinished construction project, making a post-apocalyptic city out of a forgotten foreign investment. A message has been spray-painted onto the crumbling wall: “ΔΕΝ ΠΑΡΑΔΙΔΟΝΤΑΙ ΠΟΤΕ”. Never surrender
Feyrhys - Equality meta

“And if he had grabbed me?”

There was nothing but uncompromising will in his eyes. “Then I would have torn apart the world to get you back.” Rhysand to Feyre, ACOMAF

I really want to talk about this line though; the meaning behind it; what it means for Feyre’s character arc and for Feyrhys as a ship. Feyre as a character, from the very beginning of ACOTAR is prestened to us as someone with very little self-confidence or self-worth. She doesn’t consider herself important; she doesn’t believe that she has any inherent value and the parallels that this draws out are just so much for her.

Consider: at the beginning of ACOTAR, we know that she’s the only thing keeping her family fed and alive. If she hadn’t taught herself how to hunt, if she hadn’t supported them that way they’d have died. Yet when Tamlin comes to her to kill her and then to take her away; take her back to the Spring Court (which incidentally is what we’re discussing above) none of them do anything; Nesta protects Elain, her father is silent until he urges her to go and not to come back.

But it’s not the fact that she was right it’s the fact that she knew, she knew they wouldn’t do anything, she knew they wouldn’t try and stop Tamlin from taking her away (the fact that Nesta does try, does try to cross the wall, to find her, to bring her home, is huge for their relationship development but Feyre remains ignorant of it and it’s the assumption that no-one will try and protect her, try and save her, risk themselves or put themselves out for her that’s important here)

Then there’s her desperation to get back home, to return to fulfilling the promise she made to her dying mother; to keep them safe. That promise was the only thing that made Feyre something; it was the only time anyone looked at her and thought her capable, thought her worthy of notice. Feyre is the youngest sibling but it was she who was made to promise to keep the family safe and together; not her father, not Nesta, not Elain, her.

And that was important to her because it made her important. That promise; keeping that promise; was the only thing that gave her life; gave her purpose and meaning. It’s why she fulfilled it, despite her family’s complete lack of acknowledgement or gratitude for the fact that she was risking her life on a daily basis in order to keep them alive. She kept doing it because it made her something; it made her important; it made her matter.

And this is the reason she wasn’t content to sit at the Spring Court and wear fine clothes and let herself be pampered and live a life of indulgence and luxury. Those things don’t matter to her; what matters to her is mattering itself. She wants somewhere she has a place; she wants somewhere she has a purpose and she has neither at the Spring Court so she tries to leave; to return to poverty and scraping because she means something there. This meaning and importance to people; whether or not they outwardly appreciate it, is an insecurity that is built very deeply into the core of Feyre’s character.

When she sees the puca it takes the shape of her father; her crippled, elderly father who never lifted a finger to stop them starving, never tried, never fought the way she did, has made the journey here, has crossed the wall and journeyed into Prythian to save her. A puca tricks and lures someone with their deepest desires: Feyre’s deepest desire here is to matter enough to someone for them to come and save her; for them to risk themselves for her as she would and has risked herself for them. That’s all she wants: to matter to someone enough that they’d care that she was gone; enough that they’d care so much that they would try and find her and come to her aid.

But he doesn’t. And when she’s trapped Under The Mountain Tamlin doesn’t say two words to her. He doesn’t risk himself to even come and see her; the only time he dares approach her it’s so he can have sex with her. That’s it. He broods in silence and he does nothing; Lucien risks and suffers more for her; he comes to heal her when she’s hurt and he calls out a warning to her in her first task saving her life (which results in him being whipped by Tamlin)

But Tamlin doesn’t even make an effort; being watched too closely or not it again makes Feyre feel like she’s not important. It again puts her in the position of risking herself, selling herself, giving up various pieces of herself, sacrificing everything she is for someone who won’t do the same for her. She risks her life for him, she suffers for him, she kills for him, she dies for him but he won’t do the same for her. And she knows that.

Every significant relationship Feyre has had has been built up in this way; she risks herself for them and she knows they won’t do the same for her. Until Rhys. Rhys comes to see her in her cell Under The Mountain; Rhys finds ways to help her, to stop her shattering, to save her, no matter the risk to himself; Rhys gives her the choices that Tamlin denies her, he puts her well-being, health and happiness above his protective instincts; Rhys looks her in the eye and tells her he would tear the world apart to find her if she was taken from him; Rhys kneels before her and names her the High Lady of his court because she is his equal in every regard and if she would tear herself into shreds for him then he’d do no less for her.

Feyre and Rhys is so incredibly important for Feyre’s character development because it not only helps her to see how unhealthy her relationship with Tamlin was but it undermines the reasons that she was lured in to that relationship. Tamlin defended her, Tamlin loved her, loved her so much he became obsessively protective and valued that love over her and Feyre had never had anyone treat her with regard before so she was taken in by him initially.

But it takes Rhys, Rhys offering her choices, Rhys commenting on her health and well-being, Rhys treating her as an equal; his High Lady while Tamlin insists there’s no such thing, that she must always be beneath him, that she must never be equal to him in this relationship the way she’s never felt equal before. Tamlin will wrap her up in cotton wool until she’s smothered and call that love; Rhys will bow before her because she is his equal in every way; because whatever she would do for him, he would do for her and she knows that.

Feyrhys isn’t only important because of the choices that Rhys gives Feyre (which are incredibly important after the way Tamlin treated her) but it is also incredibly important because for the first time in her life Feyre feels worthy. Feyre feels wanted. Feyre feels important. Feyre matters. Feyre matters so much he would tear apart this world with his bare hands to get her back if she was taken against her will.

Feyre is treated as his equal and it’s through that bond, that love, that equality that she realises she should never have settled for less; should never have been happy with anything less and was always worth more than what Tamlin was content to offer her; and that she was not wrong to reach out with both hands and take something better for herself because she deserves it. Which is an incredibly important and powerful statement for her character arc and development.  

PSA: don’t blame someone else for not playing healer if you won’t do it yourself
jikanet-tanaka replied to your post: fabrickind replied to your post: fabrickind…

They had a chance, too, to show how different Satyros-made armour could look like. I mean, they live in the forest and stuff, wouldn’t that change how they make arms and armours and such? Kinda like what they did with the Dalish in Dragon Age. Now, it looks just like what they’ve got in Alistel and Granorg. Not to mention, it totally doesn’t fit Elm’s character (who’s a grizzled, hardass warrior, kinda the Celestian equivalent to Alistel’s Viola…)

Exactly. It’s out of place in the setting at large, Celestia in particular, and for Elm as a character. What about that design tells you “experienced hunter and soldier who’s protected her people for years and is holding a grudge because her homeland was almost destroyed, their ambassador killed, and their sacred treasure stolen”?

I really don’t get what Atlus is thinking with the art direction for this. Like, do they think the reason RH didn’t sell well in Japan is because of the character designs? Because I think it had more to do with:

Did they take exactly the wrong lessons from the character poll? “The villain and two secondary characters made it into the top five, clearly we must work harder to woo the demographic who will vote for whoever is wearing the least clothes”?

Or, of course, the simple, uncharitable option: they just did this remake as a quick money-grab because remaking existing content was cheaper and less risky than actually making something new, and they couldn’t be assed to put thought or effort into details like “what made this game work visually,” “what fits this setting,” and “what is this character like.”