#bryce

[liamdni]

269

[xouru]

CRESCENT CITY EXCLUSIVE CHAPTERS

Please note that English is not my first language also I re-writed it from photos so there might be some errors.

HOUSE OF SKY AND BREATH

1. Bryce & Hunt Waterstones

2. Ruhn Books-a-Million

3. Tharion Target

HOUSE OF FLAME AND SHADOW

1. Bryce & Danika Indie

2. Bryce & Hunt Barnes & Noble

3. Bryce, Nesta & Azriel Walmart

4. Ember & Randall Books-a-Million

5. Ruhn & Linda Target

[thrivinghigh]

The doomer

[megasoup]

AMELIA HFJONE BLAST!!!!!!

[startrekuniverse]

Star Trek Discovery

So many memories.

[azrielshands]

This is so funny and iconic of Bryce

[naariel]

Bryce Quinlan ✨️

[blackholepenguin]

Azriel making requests of a Prythian orchestra to recreate the songs Bryce played him:

"It went *doof doof doof* *ttunz ttunz ttunz* and there was this ethereal sound like swelling strings but metallic. I need to hear it again."

[merwgue]

Sarah J. Maas: The Queen of Broken Women and Savior Men — A Deep Dive into Internalized Misogyny and Bad Writing

Sarah J. Maas is often hailed as one of the most popular fantasy writers of our time. Her series A Court of Thorns and Roses (ACOTAR) and Throne of Glass have millions of devoted fans, and it's not uncommon to see her name thrown around in discussions of "strong female characters." But when you take a closer look, a disturbing pattern emerges: almost every female character in her books is traumatized, broken, or impoverished, and it’s always the men who swoop in to fix them. There’s an underlying current of internalized misogyny that not only seeps into her stories but actively shapes the narrative. What’s worse? She can’t seem to write a truly independent woman character. Let’s break down why Maas’s writing is, at its core, problematic, unoriginal, and deeply flawed.

The Argument: Internalized Misogyny Wrapped in Fantasy

First, let’s address the root of the problem: Maas seems to believe that a woman can’t be strong unless she’s been torn apart by life in the most brutal ways. In her books, trauma is a prerequisite for strength, but only if a man is there to help the heroine overcome it. This trope is not only tired but also harmful. Maas constantly reinforces the idea that women need to be broken down to their lowest points in order to be "worthy" of a male savior.

When you strip away the fantasy elements, what you're left with is a pattern that closely resembles an old-fashioned, patriarchal narrative where women must endure suffering before being saved by a knight in shining armor. The "knight" might take the form of a High Lord, a warrior, or an assassin, but at the end of the day, Maas's female characters can never truly save themselves.

Feyre Archeron: The Poster Child of Trauma and Savior Worship

Let’s begin with Feyre Archeron from ACOTAR. She starts as a poor, broken young woman who sacrifices everything for her family, only to be thrust into a world of fae politics and violence. Feyre's trauma begins with the infamous “beast” Tamlin, and continues under the thumb of Amarantha, who tortures her in unimaginably brutal ways. But as if that weren’t enough, Maas ensures that Feyre's psychological scars run deep, so that Rhysand can swoop in and heal her. Oh, and let's not forget her trauma-induced depression after being trapped under the Mountain and made into High Fae against her will.

Sure, Feyre finds strength eventually, but only after Rhysand pulls her from the brink of despair. He doesn’t just help her heal—he remakes her. Feyre's arc quickly becomes about how Rhysand’s love, protection, and endless patience help her find herself. It’s through his intervention that she becomes powerful. Where is the agency? Where is the true independence? Feyre is never allowed to rise on her own—her entire arc is built on the shoulders of a man’s intervention.

Her “strength” is conditional, tethered to a man’s support. Without Rhysand, who is Feyre? Apparently, no one of consequence.

Nesta Archeron: The Angry, Broken Woman Who Needs a Man to Save Her

If Feyre’s story wasn’t enough, let’s talk about Nesta Archeron, who is possibly the most obvious example of Maas’s inability to write a truly independent woman. Nesta starts off as angry, bitter, and deeply traumatized by her experiences. She’s lashing out at everyone, and in A Court of Silver Flames, we see her spiraling into self-destructive behavior.

So how does Maas handle this? By sending Nesta off to be “fixed.” Cassian—ever-patient, ever-ready to rescue the broken woman—steps in as her savior. He helps her train, helps her heal, and becomes the crutch she needs to finally face her demons. The message here is clear: Nesta cannot save herself. She needs a man, a warrior, a male who can handle her anger and tame it.

What’s infuriating is that Nesta is never allowed to be strong on her own terms. Instead, Maas reduces her arc to one of forced rehabilitation, where male intervention (and sex) is the ultimate cure for all her pain. Cassian’s constant hovering, watching her every move, isn’t empowering—it's infantilizing. Once again, Maas reinforces the tired trope of the broken woman who needs a man to show her the way.

Aelin Galathynius: The Assassin Queen Who Still Needs Saving

Now, let’s shift to Throne of Glass. Aelin Galathynius is arguably Maas’s most “powerful” female character. She’s a queen, an assassin, and one of the most skilled fighters in the realm. And yet… Maas can’t seem to let her be powerful on her own. Aelin spends much of her time in Queen of Shadows and Empire of Storms either being captured, tortured, or emotionally crippled by the weight of her destiny. For all her strength, she’s constantly needing Rowan—her male savior—to guide her, protect her, or just plain save her from herself.

In Kingdom of Ash, Aelin is literally chained and tortured for months. And while this is meant to be a testament to her resilience, it’s just another example of Maas putting her female characters through hell so that men can come to their rescue. Rowan is once again her knight, her protector, the one who will fight to free her. Even when Aelin saves herself, it’s with the help of a man or because of the love a man has for her.

What happened to the assassin queen who was capable of taking down armies? Oh, right—she’s been reduced to a woman who can only triumph if a man is at her side.

Bryce Quinlan: Party Girl Turned… You Guessed It, Traumatized Heroine

Bryce from Crescent City is another classic Maas creation. She’s a party girl, carefree and wild, until trauma strikes, and she’s forever changed. Cue the entrance of Hunt, her male protector who steps in to help her navigate her grief, her trauma, and the dangerous world she now inhabits. Bryce may have a sharp tongue and fierce attitude, but Maas makes sure that she is broken enough to need a man to save her.

Hunt becomes the anchor in Bryce’s life, and once again, the pattern repeats itself: Bryce cannot face her demons alone. She cannot be strong without a man by her side. Her trauma is the driving force behind her character development, and Maas wastes no time in ensuring that Hunt is always there to steady her when she falters.

Villainous Women: The Ones with Power Get Punished

Let’s also talk about the women in Maas’s books who do have power—Amarantha, Maeve, Ianthe, the list goes on. These women are almost always villains, and what makes them villainous? They’re powerful, independent, and don’t need men to define them. Amarantha, for all her cruelty, is a ruler in her own right. Maeve, a queen, is feared and respected. And what does Maas do to them? She tears them down, punishing them for their independence, for daring to claim power in a world where only men are allowed to hold it without consequence.

These villainous women are never given depth beyond their cruelty, and they’re almost always defeated by men. Maas’s treatment of powerful women in her books reinforces the idea that a woman’s strength, when unchecked by a man, is dangerous and unnatural. It’s not just lazy writing—it’s deeply misogynistic.

Conclusion: Sarah J. Maas, the Fantasy Author Who Can’t Write Women

So, what’s the takeaway? Sarah J. Maas is a writer who consistently undermines her female characters’ independence and autonomy. Her female leads are traumatized, broken, and only find true strength when a man steps in to save them. The pattern is clear, and it’s damaging. Maas’s world is one where women are only allowed to rise if they have a male savior by their side, and any woman who seeks power independently is punished for it.

This is not empowerment. This is not feminism. This is internalized misogyny at its finest, wrapped up in a pretty package of fae magic and romance.

Maas’s inability to write an independent woman character is a glaring flaw in her work, and it’s time we stop praising her for perpetuating harmful, outdated tropes. If she ever wants to write truly strong female characters, she needs to stop leaning on trauma as a crutch and allow women to find their own strength—without a man’s help.

Until then, Maas’s writing will remain a problematic ode to broken women and their savior men, with little room for genuine female empowerment.

Inspired by @extremely-judgemental , I loved their post!!! Please check it out meringues❤️❤️

[boo-pin]

[natsumipocket]

Cozy igloo with an aurora in the starry sky. Yay!🌟⸜(*ˊᗜˋ*)⸝

[stylishkira]

Demon Souls Locations rendered in Bryce 7!

Also known as Demon Souls remake if it was good. I'm making more of these but it takes a long time to render even on a good pc.

[blockygraphics]

MARBLTMP.BMP, modified July 23, 1997, 11:07 AM; image from the 1997 CD-ROM Real World Bryce 2: The Art of the Digital Landscape.

[thrivinghigh]

[megasoup]

More Amelia!!!!!!

[thygoodvibez]