what's about to come...

Rhys is half Illyrian and doesn't have wings, or was NOT born with such.

Means: Nyx having wings was mainly on Feyre's behalf, because she transformed herself.

So... Nesta didn't needed to 'change' Feyres physical status the first place. She just did it, so Rhys and her sister can continue to do kinky stuff.

Who is allowed to have the hot shadow daddy for themself and which female character - which they identify with - gets to f**k him - the 'freak in bed'.

Azriel – Lucien – Elain – Gwyn All single and ready to mingle…

Why, in my opinion, the dynamic only really makes sense in ONE constellation (all my opinion, based on text, symbolism & logic — no hate, no ship war):

First off: Sarah J. Maas rarely writes by chance. Regardless of whether you love her decisions or want to cringe. She:

works with mirrored structures

allows biological rules to apply

repeats motifs until they make sense

and she doesn't just "park" characters haphazardly If there's a piece of information like: "more flexible bones" or "Black swallows her" that's not a decorative line. That's a tool. And with this tool, we'll examine the four characters. 2. Elain: Fear, Control & the Problem of “Mate”. Elain is not a “soft girl.” She is:

polite

empathetic

introverted

AND extremely fear-driven.

She keeps quiet because keeping quiet has ensured her survival. She avoids risk. She chooses security. Therefore: Graysen = castle, order, role, plan. That wasn't freedom—that was control. Then:

she becomes violently enslaved

gets engaged, loses herself

loses her world

gets a mate-Bond that overwhelms her. She doesn't understand the Bond emotionally, but only feels its force. And Elain reacts to force with:

→ withdrawal.

→ distance.

→ avoidance.

Not because Lucien is “wrong.” But because the Bond terrifies her. And: we NEVER get her POV. We only see reactions—not thoughts. This leads to misunderstandings: She seems cold. In reality, she's overwhelmed. And that's the crux of the matter: The Mate Bond isn't a romantic shortcut. It's a pressure she can't yet grasp.

3. Lucien: Loyalty, Grief & the Reluctant Gentleman. Lucien isn't a clown, not a sidekick. He is:

traumatized

politically astute

highly observant

extremely loyal

and always polite, even when he's suffering. He truly loved Jesminda. He watched her die. He carries guilt, shame, anger, and grief. Then he gets a new Bond. And of course: He feels it more intensely. He doesn't want to be intrusive. He senses Elaine's fear. He withdraws—out of respect. And perhaps also:

Guilt towards Jesminda

Hurt pride

Fear of being “too wrong” again So Lucien is NOT the annoying mate dude, who keeps saying, “You belong to me.” He asks. He observes. He waits. Elain needs space. Lucien gives space. And something valuable emerges here: A Bond film that takes time—and matures, instead of forcing. 4. Azriel & Elain: Security, but at the expense of himself. Azriel is not just shadow. He is duty, control, self-restraint. With Elain: He becomes gentle. He becomes calm. He warns, protects, holds back. She feels safe. But: His shadows dim. He makes himself smaller. He doesn't show his whole self. This is not a "healthy relationship." This is adaptation out of consideration. And Sarah shows us vividly: During the Solstice almost-kiss, he hesitated—not because he doesn't want her, but because something about it feels "wrong." And the Night Court? Black swallows Elain. The aesthetics, the city, the darkness— they extinguish her instead of supporting her. And Azriel? He would never leave the Court. He IS the Court. He is its shadow hand. The equation states:

Elain + Night Court= Disappearance Azriel + Elain = Self-diminishment This isn't romantic tragedy—it's simply a narrative mismatch. 5. Elain isn't "soft and ready"—she needs a real redemption arc. Elain is often read as: sweet kind fragile innocent and then the analysis ends.

But that's just the surface. Beneath the surface lies:

Fear

Avoidance

Moral passivity

Dependence on security

and moments when she abandons others because she can't bear it.

When they were poor, she—like Nesta—did nothing. Not out of coldness, but out of fear. She adapts to systems, even if those systems are unfair, as long as they promise her protection. And after the war: She avoids. She doesn't confront. She treats Nesta harshly and unfairly, because Nesta's chaos threatens her safety. This isn't an "evil" character— but it is an unfinished one. Elain needs:

Responsibility

Confrontation with her own decisions

Growth beyond fear

A choice that hurts—and is right

A life she determines herself, not the Cauldron, a man, or a mate If she simply: → gets Azriel because it's nice, or → rejects Lucien without ever confronting the Bond, then that's not a character arc. That's stagnation with glitter.

A true redemption arc for Elain means: She recognizes where she's looking away. She stands up—for herself and others. She makes conscious decisions, not reflexively. And THEN—no matter who it's for— every relationship becomes meaningful, because it arises from independence and not from fear or the pressure of fate.

That's why Elain + Lucien feels so potentially powerful: It forces her to confront— Bond, responsibility, herself. And that's precisely why Elain + Azriel often feels like a shortcut: romantic… but emotionally too simplistic. 6. Gwyn: Voice, Water & the Art of Staying in the Dark. Gwyn isn't "the other option." She is:

traumatized, but active

combative

humorous

curious

more confident than she used to be

and she SINGS And singing is her identity.

Her blood: River nymph → movement, flexibility, transition. She loses her voice— and fights to get it back. When she sings, the room brightens, but the darkness isn't destroyed. It remains—only more legible. And then: Azriel's shadow moves toward her. Not away. It doesn't dim. She doesn't have to diminish him. He's allowed to exist. She sees him kill. She doesn't break down. She's terrified—but she stays. Their relationship isn't "Heal me with love." It's: I am strong. You are strong. We're both broken—but we're not lying to each other. 7. "The Cauldron is Corrupted"—and Why That's NOT a .Counterargument. A common argument against Lucien + Elain (and thus indirectly for Azriel + Elain) is: The Cauldron is corrupted, so Elain's mate bond with Lucien is false. That sounds logical at first—but it simply isn't in canon. Because:

👉 The Cauldron doesn't create mate bonds.

👉 The Cauldron transforms beings.

👉 The mate connection exists independently of that.

Best example: Feyre & Rhys. Their bond was there before Feyre became a Fae. It just wasn't fully perceptible because she was mortal. The same applies to Elain: The Cauldron created her. It didn't "assign" her to Lucien. The connection was already established. If the Cauldron created Mate bonds, ALL Made Fae would automatically develop bonds—which they don't. "But why didn't Azriel sense a bond with Gwyn?" Counter-question: Why didn't Azriel sense a bond with Elain? Why didn't Elain sense a bond with Azriel? Why did Lucien sense Elain's bond immediately, but Elain only felt it vaguely? Mate bonds are not always:

simultaneous

equally strong

equally conscious

equally perceptible We have several examples in canon:

– Rhys senses Feyre early, she doesn't sense him – Kallias & Viviane only recognize each other late – Bonds sometimes only become perceptible in the right emotional state The argument "Azriel should have noticed immediately" is therefore not a canon law—but a fan assumption. The most important point: If the cauldron really does create "false" bonds that would undermine the entire Mate concept of the series. Then:

Rhys & Feyre would theoretically be unsafe

all Made-Fae bonds would be potentially worthless

and the central romantic foundation of the series would be unstable This contradicts Sarah J. Maas's entire narrative so far.

In short: The Cauldron = Transformation The Mother / Destiny / the Universe = Mate Bonds The Cauldron changed Elain. It didn't assign her to Lucien. And if you take this point seriously, you can't simultaneously claim: "Elain's bond is wrong, but Azriel + Gwyn would automatically be right." Because then the same logic applies in both directions. 8. The Biological Detail (My Personal Favorite): Nesta alters the physiology:

in herself

in Feyre Both are supposed to be able to have winged babies. Elain stands by. Nesta does NOT do it for her. Even though she knows: Azriel is Illyrian. There's tension. There's possibility. If Sarah had wanted to say: "Elain has the option of Illyrian children"

→ that would have been the perfect moment.

Instead: Gwyn later says: "My bones are more flexible." River nymph trait. And yes—that includes pelvic mobility. This means:

Gwyn = natural compatibility Elain = deliberately unprepared This is no coincidence.

This is a narrative switch. 9. Symbolism: Where do they belong?

Elain = Earth, garden, bread, home, community Lucien = Wandering, sun, diplomacy, movement, politics Azriel = Shadow, war, espionage, night Gwyn = Water, voice, threshold, combat training Now look at the pairs as axes:

Elain + Lucien → Slow approach → Trust, healing, safety → Politically and emotionally meaningful → Mate bond is finally taken seriously Azriel + Gwyn → Darkness and light work together → Both retain their selves → Trauma scars over instead of being covered up → Night Court remains night—but with song This doesn't feel contrived.

It feels built. 10. When SJM stays true to its own writing style… This isn't "my ship is better than yours." It's about something else entirely: Sarah J. Maas has consistently written the following across all her series:

Mate bonds mean something

Foreshadowing is fulfilled

Biological rules remain in place

Symbolism returns

Characters get fitting arcs, not random partners If you only look at these regularities, the logic always leads to the same conclusion:

Elain + Lucien Azriel + Gwyn Anything else would mean:

Mate bonds suddenly become irrelevant

Biology is disregarded

Foreshadowing is dropped

Character arcs are broken And that doesn't feel like story— it feels like fanservice. That doesn't mean she couldn't do it. But it would be a break with the very style that has held her stories together so far.

… Conclusion

I don't see a coherent endgame where:

Azriel and Elain end up together

Gwyn becomes irrelevant

Lucien's mate bond is simply ignored

Elain remains "swallowed up" in the Night Court

Azriel has to permanently diminish himself In contrast:

I've been thinking a lot about the "maybe?" pairing between Tristan Flynn and Ariadne—and the more I think about it, the less it works for me. Not emotionally. Not logically. Not narratively.

And no: This isn't an "I hate Ariadne" or "I hate Flynn" post. I like them both. A lot, in fact. That's precisely why I'm frustrated.

1. "Chemistry" is claimed—but never shown

For years, Flynn is portrayed as a party boy who can handle rejection. Ariadne is traumatized, angry, newly liberated—and has zero interest in him. The supposed "sexy banter" is actually: her: annoyed, distant, toug him: tactless, intrusive, zero sensitivity

That doesn't read like suspense. It reads like two people at completely different points in their lives—and yet the book acts as if there has to be "something" there.

Except: There isn't.

2. He simply doesn't think about her later.

When a story really wants to ship something, you see it. Flashbacks. Dialogues. Jealousy. Hints. Something.

With Flynn and Ariadne Silence. He doesn't pout He doesn't suffer. He barely remembers. And her? Exactly the same. That doesn't look like "destiny." That looks like: "We had an idea and then dropped it."

3. Ariadne gets a huge setup—and then… nothing.

Ring. Captivity. Trauma. And then: revelation that dragonfire could even supposedly kill the Princes of Hell, who are capable of killing Asteri, so… That's a gigantic narrative promise. Dragonfire more powerful than the Princes of Hell, who are potentially more powerful than Asterix...

And the story? Does nothing with it. Ariadne becomes a peripheral character, and the "narrative atomic bomb" remains unresolved. This feels less like mystery—and more like: forgotten.

4. If it suddenly becomes "Endgame" → Fanservice

Should the next book suddenly claim that Flynn & Ariadne were "secretly always meant to be"?

Sorry—then it comes across as retro foreshadowing and fanservice. No organic development. No evolution. Just: "The two of them are left—let's glue them together." And no. Just no.

Conclusion:

Flynn & Ariadne are intriguing characters.

But:

I debated for a long time whether to even write this, but… here we go.

I like Ithan Holstrom. I really do. He's loyal, vulnerable, traumatized, stubborn, lost—all at once. Really great material for character development.

But what the books make of him… is both fascinating and incredibly frustrating.

And yes: From now on, I'm calling it the Ithan Holstrom Syndrome.

1. Bryce & the Cringe

Yes, it's canon: Ithan had a crush on Bryce back in college. He does what many characters (and real people) do: He suppresses his feelings. He rationalizes them away. He makes himself the "little brother/best friend" so he can stay around her. And that's not romantic. That's sad It gets even more awkward when you consider: Bryce loves him—but platonically. To her, he's family. Period.

After the massacre, Ithan snaps. He projects grief, guilt, and jealousy onto Bryce, disguising it as "you betrayed Connor." But it's really about him... And quite frankly, the cringe is real because you can sense his moral compass isn't sound. It's heartbreak in wolf's clothing.

Later, when he sleeps in Bryce and Hunt's guest room and hears what's happening next door... That's a reality check. The fantasy dies. Embarrassing. Raw. This chapter demonstrates only one thing: He can't go on living like this. Only with more cringe.

2. The Mystic / Sigrid – from "exciting" to "what's happening here?"

Then the she-wolf appears in the pool. Traumatic, exploited, dehumanized. This is powerful. Ithan reacts because what's happening to her is objectively wrong.

At first, it's not a crush. It's morality. Guilt. The instinct to rescue. And then…

Side plot.

Another side plot.

Even more plot.

Arena. Accident. Death. Necromancy. Reaper transformation. Back-and-forth drama.

What Sigrid could be: A mirror. A warning. A catalyst for growth. What she ends up being: A plot device, shuffled around until she can be removed from the story. And yes – it feels like Ithan has become too important (Fame from Book 2) to be "tied" to her. So she remains chaotic, inconsistent, annoying. Not as a person – but as a function. The problem: The plot devours character development.

3. The path to becoming the primus – actually cool, but unnecessarily complicated.

Ithan becomes the primus in the end. Thematically, that makes sense: He finds leadership, a voice, responsibility, identity. But the path there? Ten detours. Three extra colossi. Five side quests. The same development could have been told in a leaner and more emotionally honest way—without the necromancy labyrinth.

4. And then… Perry. Strawberries. Freckles. Help.

I have NOTHING against Perry. She's: Omega, reserved, kind, human, survival-oriented. And Ethan thinks the entire book: exactly nothing romantic about her. They're childhood acquaintances. They coexist. End of story. And THEN:

• suddenly memories (rainbow room, etc.)

• suddenly "she smells like strawberries"

• suddenly freckles

• suddenly an underlying "something special" in her scent

This isn't foreshadowing. This is "ship button pressed." Friends-to-lovers only works if we realize: slowly, irritably, painfully: "Wait. I see you differently." What happens with Ithan & Perry is: neutral → neutral → neutral → BOOM "maybe she's something special?" This isn't earned. This isn't romantic. This is meaning added on after the fact.

And the mysterious "suppressed power"? We all know what that means: She's secretly special. Because apparently, no one in this series is allowed to just be normal.

5. The Real Problem

The Ithan-Holstrom-Syndrome, for me, is: A character with enormous potential for development—but the plot forces her into tropes she doesn't deserve. A crush without genuine communication. Side plots that go in circles. Romance that comes out of nowhere. "You're secretly special" tropes. And in the end?

Ithan doesn't come across as deep. He seems tired. Over-plotted. Artificially coupled. Not because he's poorly written—but because the story doesn't trust him to stand on his own.

Conclusion:

I love what Ithan COULD be: a wolf learning to set boundaries, take responsibility, and experience love not as a predetermined fate, but as a choice.

But what we get is:

- too much cringe,

- too much retcon romance,

- too much "everyone needs a pairing."

When tropes devour characters: Tharion, Sathia, and the SJM problem

I've been thinking a lot about Tharion Ketos and Sathia Flynn these past few days—and the more I think about it, the clearer a pattern becomes that runs through many of Sarah J. Maas's books.

Not that Tharion and Sathia are "bad." But they don't feel organic to me. They feel like: characters that were needed to make a trope work.

Tharion is this chaotic, free-spirited type who constantly throws himself into new cages. He makes mistakes, runs away from responsibility, hurts people (hello, River Princess)—and the story hardly ever gives him any real consequences.

Sathia, on the other hand, is initially the "snobbish sister," but later suddenly complex, tragic, vulnerable—precisely at the moment she's needed to integrate Tharion into a couple's narrative.

And yes, it feels like a "marriage of convenience" trope. Like: "We marry out of obligation, but later we realize we actually love each other."

Then there's Colin—the childhood sweetheart.

Perfect for the love triangle. Perfect as a sacrifice if one wants to "clear the way." And this is precisely where it becomes problematic for me. I recognize this pattern from SJM books:

– Sam

– Shahar

– Lyria

– Sorscha

Characters who are intriguing, who have potential—and then disappear, die, or are sacrificed so that the "right" couple can shine in the end. Not because their story was over. But because they're in the way. And I have a feeling Colin is in exactly that danger zone.

All of this makes Tharion & Sathia seem less like "destiny" to me—and more like: "There was a single character, so let's give them a ship." Romantic fantasy can be more than: partnering everyone up, domesticating everyone, smoothing everything over. I want stories where:

– not every relationship has to be endgame

– characters don't die just so a trope works

– women aren't constantly "re-educated"

– and a character is allowed to be alone sometimes without it feeling like a loss

I'm super curious to see where SJM goes with this—but right now it feels more like "milking the franchise" than honest character development.

I debated for a long time whether I could write this in a structured way—or if it would just be a rage post.

Spoiler alert: It's both.

I like Ruhn. I hate Lidia. But this is more than just "I don't ship it." This is:

👉 a completely failed romance

👉 that distorts the characters

👉 romanticizes violence

👉 and is ultimately built on NOTHING.

Let's break this down.

1. Lidia is not a "tragic heroine." She is a PERPETRATOR. Yes—double agent, blah blah. But:

- She wasn't a double agent from the beginning.

- She was part of the system.

- She enjoyed her work.

- She tortured, hunted, and destroyed people.

And then: She gets pregnant → suddenly she realizes the system is evil. No. Motherhood is not a moral reset button. Evil people have children and remain evil. If you want to redeem them, it takes:

• real consequences

• active decisions

• painful remorse

Not: "She had babies, so she was always good inside." She was a perpetrator. Period.

2. Sophie was NOT an accident. Even in the mildest version: She killed Sophie. Not prearranged. Full risk. Contact agent. Someone she knew. And then: "I threw a rock, maybe someone will save her." No. She made the decision.She is guilty. Love, friends, and pregnancy don't wash that away.

3. Baxian shows that Lidia could have acted DIFFERENTLY Baxian:

• Street child

• Trapped in the system

• No one to protect him

Meets Danika.

He realizes: This can't go on. And he stops killing. Quietly. Consequence. No drama. Lidia had:

• Power

• Position

• Networks

• Room to maneuver

And she continues.

This isn't a tragic sacrifice. This is complicity.

4. Pollux – the timeline destroys the "cover" excuse. In the book: "I'm only with Pollux because it protects my cover." Problem: She was already WITH POLLUX BEFORE she became a double agent.So it wasn't a cover. It was a choice. And then it's retrospectively reinterpreted:

Love → cover

Active decision → "had to be"

That's not depth. That's whitewashing.

5. Lidia has no personality. We know:

• her background

• her role

• her position

But we don't know HER. No preferences. No sense of humor. No quirks. Only: trauma, secrets, plot function. That's why everything feels empty. Because she is empty.

6. Ruhn is rewritten for her. Ruhn Book 1:

- loyal

- warm

- social

- reflective

- talks with his friends

- laughs

- has values

Then: "Lidia is the first person he truly opens up to." No. That contradicts the entire setup. He's forced into a role to make the romance seem "epic." And when he finds out who she is: First disgust (logically) — then almost immediately: understanding, forgiveness.

Forgiveness FOR WHAT? He wasn't her victim. The story uses him to morally absolve her. And that's wrong.

7. Their relationship is based on NOTHING. People say:"They share trauma!" "They share guilt!" No. If you take away the drama, secrets, and mates, what's left is: Nothing.

They: barely talk about real life, share nothing, solve nothing together, build no foundation. Only: Mind-bridge. Cryptic sentences. Drama. Fate stamp. This isn't a foundation. This is stage set.

8. The Mates sticker is an emergency button. Argument: "They're mates because they could connect without the crystal!"

Girl — no.

Sophie needed the crystal because she didn't have telepathy. Ruhn DOES have telepathy. Of course it works better for him. This has NOTHING to do with mates.

And if they were mates, you'd have to feel something beforehand: Instinct, Pulling, Unease Some kind of signal. Ruhn feels: nothing like that. This isn't "fate." This is: a shortcut.

9. Scenes that completely fall apart:

• She saves him → he goes soft, she clams up (drama for drama's sake)

• Sudden make-out session on Avallen without any build-up

• Lidia POV: 90% "he's hot"

• Ruhn forgets his best friends for TWO DAYS because of her 🤡

• Seemingly random make-out session in the middle of a rescue mission

• He kills his father — no processing

• On/off/on/off for no reason

• Crystal Palace: he shoots her IN THE LEG, says "I love you," and runs off

This isn't tragic. This is tonal and emotional nonsense.

10. It feels like an improvised patchwork pairing!

Book 1 clearly builds on Hypaxia. Then: dropped. Instead of a transition - mysterious fire woman. Lidia is visually made to fit: golden, fiery, royal. Ruhn = Dorian echo. Lidia = Aelin Echo. Lots of symbolism. Zero psychology. It looks pretty. It feels empty.

💀 Conclusion:

I don't hate Lydia because she's "uncomfortable." I hate this pairing because:

✔ Lidia was the perpetrator and is narratively sanitized

✔ Pregnancy & love are used as a moral washing machine

✔ Ruhn is bent for the sake of romance

✔ The Pollux timeline blows the cover-up lie

✔ "Mates" is just a button

✔ The relationship is built on NOTHING

✔ Drama replaces depth

✔ Everything feels like a patchwork job, not a plan

Therefore:

Last place. Deservedly so. No discussion.

—

Let me be blunt: I love Dorian. I love Manon. But as a couple? It just doesn't make sense to me. And that's precisely why: number 8.

Not because they're "not hot enough." But because the ship falls apart as soon as you look closer.

1. "She loves him as much as she can" — sounds romantic, but is tragic 💔 The lyrics literally tell us that Manon loves him "as much as she can." That doesn't mean: "She loves him intensely." That means: Her capacity to love is limited — by violence, upbringing, trauma, control. Dorian, on the other hand, is someone who needs balance.

He himself says, in essence, that a marriage with someone who isn't his emotional and mental match would kill his soul. And that also includes: a relationship in which he loves more, invests more, feels more than he receives in return. That wouldn't be a "tragic romance aesthetic" in the long run. That would be emotionally suffocating for him.

2. Dorian's Pattern: He seeks grounding— not more chaos 🌿 Look at the women he's attracted to: Celaena/Aelin. He thought she was "just" a champion. What really captivated him? Intelligence. Humor. Loyalty. And the warmth she shows her friends. Sorscha, Healer. Gentle. Empathetic. Quietly strong. She helps him control his magic. She sees him. She heals—physically AND emotionally.

The pattern is clear: Dorian seeks women who ground him, who bring back his humanity, who are quiet but strong. And then Manon comes along. Wind. Steel. Blood. Crown. ⚔️ Not wrong. Not bad. But it's not a "return to humanity" — it's a storm.

3. Their relationship is often plot—not relationship 📚 Yes, they're sexy together. Yes, their scenes are sizzling. But when you take them apart, you realize: Many of their moments are functional. They save each other. They make deals. They test power. They sleep together. But where are the scenes that say: "This is where trust is built." "This is where everyday life is built." "This is where two people are talking, not two weapons." Even the famous: "Finish what you started." is more lust and tension than genuine, vulnerable connection. It sometimes feels like: Two generals. One bed. Onward. Cool? Sure. Relationship? Meh.

4. Politically: absolutely untenable ⚠️👑

Dorian becomes King of Adarlan. After war. Terror. Trauma. He needs: Stability,

Diplomacy, Public trust, Reconstruction. Manon becomes Queen of the Witches. A people who were enemies for centuries. Different culture. Different loyalties. Just beginning to redefine themselves.

Will he marry her? Adarlan thinks: "The king is marrying the woman of a people who massacred us." The witches think: "Our queen is marrying a mortal king and letting herself be imprisoned." No one trusts this alliance. Both peoples are destabilized. And then there's the simple question. Where do they live? He can't leave his kingdom. She'll never be a lady-in-waiting in Rifthold. It's not political endgame. It's a powder keg with a pretty bow.

5. Conclusion: Two perfect characters — wrong puzzle 🧩 I understand why the idea is appealing. "King + Witch Queen" sounds epic. It looks great in fan art. 😅

But:

- psychologically: unequal

- emotionally: asymmetrical

- politically: unrealistic

- in the long run: fragile

Therefore: 8th place.

Not because I hate them. But because I take them seriously. I love them both —

Only Rank 7th for Me 🌌

I've thought a lot about why this "power couple" doesn't work for me emotionally. And the more I think about it, the clearer it becomes: It's not that they're bad. It's that they have enormous, untapped potential—and the story keeps diminishing it.

1️⃣ Bryce: Strength Without Responsibility:

I liked Bryce at the beginning. I really did. But something shifts around book 2/3: She constantly acts alone. Not because she wants to protect others. But because she believes she's the only one who "gets it." She:

– ignores advice – puts others in danger – doesn't take consequences seriously – believes her prejudices are true

Fae? Generally awful. Wolves? All good, because of Danika. Alien world? "Not mine, so it doesn't matter." And worst of all: She keeps talking about "victims" — but it's usually the others who pay.

2️⃣ Hunt: From Rebel to Power Bank:

Hunt began as a complex character: Rebel. Soldier. Strategic. Traumatized, but clever. And then? He is gradually reduced to:

– Boyfriend

– Shoulder to cry on

– Lightning charger

In conflicts, he's barely allowed to say "no." His trauma is ignored. His anger is smoothed over. Final battle? "Hunt hurls lightning bolts." That's the Umbra Mortis. And he becomes an accessory.

3️⃣ Conflicts that never have consequences:

They argue. He is retraumatized. She crosses his boundaries. And then? Reset. Kiss. Onward. No real apology.No growth. No dialogue. Emotions only exist as long as they serve the plot.

4️⃣ The “mate” trope devours the characters.

“Soulmates” are used like a band-aid:

– Connor? Who cares.

– Shahar? Therapyd away.

– Past relationships? Were never “real.”

– Hunt’s past? Irrelevant, because of mate.

Anything that might be complicated is glossed over with fate. That’s not romantic. That’s convenient.

5️⃣ Hunt's Origins — The Ultimate Devaluation:

The revelation: Hunt was essentially "designed" to recharge Bryce. He's no longer a human being with his own story — he's a cosmic power source. His reaction? Infantile, fear-driven, completely out of character. What should have happened? Questions about identity. Bodily autonomy. Anger. Dignity. Instead: Drama — comfort — mate — onward.

6️⃣ And then: Cormac, Connor… Forgotten:

People die. Friends sacrifice themselves. And no one remembers. Cormac? Vaped. No grief, no conversation, nothing. A story without memory feels hollow. And that's exactly what happens here. Conclusion.

I understand why many love Bryce & Hunt. They're loyal. They save each other. They're cute when they're working. But: Their relationship is rarely a partnership. Too often it's:

- Bryce decides.

- Hunt swallows.

- The world pays the price.

And that's why, for me, they're:

👉 not terrible

👉 not toxic in the classic sense

but:

⭐ 7th place:

lots of potential — little courage, too polished, too comfortable, not emotionally honest enough. I want characters who learn. Take responsibility. Remember.