#morally questionable

My beautiful beautiful wife made me this stupid ass lil guy for Christmas and I wanna rip his head out and eat it. Love her. Love him. You should also be loving them both.

Like why is my brain hosting a double-feature:

• John Walker: built like a warning label. That Captain America energy but make it feral. The kind of man who looks like he’d say “be good” in that low voice and suddenly I’m forgetting how to stand upright. The gruff seriousness, the clenched jaw, the “I’m trying to behave” stare that absolutely does not mean he’s behaving. Sir, stop looking at me like I’m the last sin on Earth. (Don’t stop.) 🫠🥊

• John Allerdyce: pretty boy chaos. Smirk you want to bite. That “I’m trouble and I know it” swagger, with the audacity to be hot while also being a walking fire hazard. The kind of man who leans in like he’s telling you a secret and it’s just “you wanna see something?” and suddenly your morals evaporate. 🧨😮‍💨

And the worst part? They’d be insufferable together.

Walker would be like “control yourself.”

Allerdyce would be like “make me.”

And I would simply pass away on the spot, thank you.

Regulus' job didn't go very well, leaving him with a corpse-shaped problem in his hands.

Though that is hardly the problem it seems to be when one has a boyfriend with a taste for the macabre.

AU where Regulus is an assassin and James is writer with an alarming amount of questionable information.

OK, let’s get into it, because this idea that Rhysand is sooo morally grey? Yeah, not buying it. Let’s be real—he’s not a morally grey character, he’s just framed in a way that gives him a pass for a lot of his questionable actions. When you actually break it down, Rhysand is pretty black and white, but the narrative does a fantastic job of dressing him up as “complex” to make readers feel like his actions are more nuanced than they really are. Spoiler: they’re not.

His Actions Are Consistently Justified by “Good Intentions”

One of the biggest indicators that Rhysand isn’t actually morally grey is how everything he does, no matter how manipulative or controlling, is framed as being for the greater good. His decisions, whether it’s drugging Feyre or making her wear revealing outfits under the mountain, are always given this neat little justification. “He was protecting her,” “He had no choice,” “He was trying to outwit Amarantha.” A morally grey character wrestles with the consequences of their actions—Rhysand doesn’t. We’re told, over and over again, that what he did was necessary, and that alone is supposed to excuse him from criticism. That’s not moral ambiguity—that’s convenient narrative framing.

He’s Always Positioned as the Hero:

Let’s not pretend like Rhysand is ever in real moral conflict. His choices are presented as tough but necessary, and we’re rarely, if ever, given a moment where he actually grapples with the darker sides of those choices. Even when he makes questionable decisions, we’re spoon-fed reasons to believe he’s ultimately in the right. That’s not grey. That’s just a hero with a darker aesthetic. Compare him to actual morally grey characters who sit in their discomfort, who make selfish choices or hurt people without always having noble intentions behind it. Rhysand? Nah, he’s just the guy who always ends up looking like the hero, even when his actions should be called out.

His Morality Never Comes Into Question:

A true morally grey character is someone whose actions challenge not only the other characters in the story, but the readers too. We should be asking ourselves, “Is this person really doing the right thing? Should I be supporting this?” But with Rhysand? There’s never any real doubt. Even when he manipulates or controls others, we’re reassured that it’s all part of some grand, noble plan. His friends back him, Feyre forgives him, and the narrative never holds him accountable in a meaningful way. There’s no real complexity here, just a character who gets away with being controlling because the plot tells us to forgive him.

Everything Bad He Does Is Framed as a Sacrifice:

Rhysand is never portrayed as doing bad things because he wants to, or because he’s selfish, or because he’s flawed in a way. It’s always framed as him making a sacrifice for the greater good. He does bad things, sure—but the narrative works overtime to show us that he had to do them. When you’re constantly being told that a character’s questionable choices are out of necessity, you’re not being shown a morally grey character—you’re being shown a hero who occasionally has to get his hands dirty. Big difference.

He Doesn’t Struggle With His Decisions:

What makes a morally grey character truly compelling is when they struggle with their own decisions, when they recognize that they’ve hurt people or crossed a line, and they aren’t sure how to feel about it. But Rhysand? He’s remarkably comfortable with all of his decisions. He doesn’t dwell on whether or not what he did under the mountain was wrong; in fact, he hardly ever reflects on it at all. It’s presented as a burden, sure, but it’s a burden that’s neatly tied up with a bow: he did what he had to, end of story. He’s too comfortable in his righteousness to ever really be morally grey.

He’s Too Perfectly Framed as a Savior:

Let’s be real, Rhysand’s character arc is too neat and too perfectly framed as “Feyre’s savior” for him to be truly morally ambiguous. Every time he’s at risk of being seen as a villain, the narrative bends over backwards to remind us that he’s actually the one who saved Feyre, saved Prythian, saved everyone, really. A morally grey character wouldn’t be positioned so neatly as the savior figure. They’d be somewhere in between—someone whose actions could be seen as selfish or harmful, even if they had noble intentions. Rhysand, on the other hand, is always one step away from being a full-on white knight, cloaked in black and purple.

The Lack of Consequences

A true morally grey character faces the consequences of their actions, both externally and internally. But Rhysand? He rarely, if ever, suffers real consequences for the morally dubious things he’s done. Everyone either forgives him, rationalizes his behavior, or never holds him accountable in the first place. Where’s the moral ambiguity if there’s no fallout? If the narrative is bending over backward to redeem or justify every action, then there’s no real grey area—it’s just a hero getting away with questionable behavior.