[eatsbooks]

ོ ｡ ⁺ 𖤓 ₊ ⁺ ོ｡ ˚ sabrina ⋆ 27 ⋆ she/her ˚⭒ ⋆ . ｡ ☾₊ ⁺ ˚ ☁︎ . ⋆

freak shit enthusiast ⋆ bookworm (derogatory) ⋆ chronic tag yapper

writing masterlist ⋆ acotar meta masterlist ⋆ oc masterlist

acotar ⋆ rote ⋆ capri ⋆ dark rise ⋆ aftg ⋆ tsoa ⋆ grishaverse

[onebulletaway]

“Rhysand’s last name doesn’t matter because he’s one of one.”

[eatsbooks]

ohhh garrett graham who was fully going to make hannah sleep on the floor while he took the bed to maximize his sleep for Hockey up until ! she saw his bruises and gave up the fight for the bed because she felt bad for him and if she felt bad for him over those bruises then she would feel bad for him over the Other bruises and then everything his dad did is real and everything his dad did is wrong and he already knows that but he doesn’t want to think about that and— “i am perfectly capable of sleeping on the floor.”

[mviji]

Sea serpents in the ROTE world are one of my biggest loves

[eatsbooks]

amarantha who sees clythia as having a soft, moldable heart that ultimately led to her to falling in love with a human and being brutally killed for it. amarantha cursing tamlin to fall in love with a human—but giving him a stone heart as a failsafe to ensure he becomes hers because only those with soft, moldable hearts are wooed by such creatures. tamlin falling in love with a human anyway because it was never been about the heart or its softness but about the true humanity of love: fierce and earnest and vast and flawed and willing to hurt itself if it means protecting others.

love and humanity, of course, being the two things that amarantha could never understand.

[hemeart]

Rhysand and Feyre fanart that I just finished!

[eatsbooks]

beaming my period cramps onto

papa archeron (whittled wood while his daughters starved)

lord nolan (racist)

keir (me when i have my daughter tortured and staked into the ground)

helion (absentee father award goes to)

beron (torture dungeon)

Voting ended onJun 3

[eatsbooks]

good. i hope they kill him Again

[yearning-venus]

Apricot season

[brawlite]

honestly sometimes there's no better feeling than rereading a fic you've written and coming out of it going, "yeah that actually this DOES slap. exactly what i wanted to read. fucking nailed it."

[eatsbooks]

can i say something as a gal who had a day from the pits of hell and then also a few glasses of wine and is now watching off campus yet again . justice for justin’s yellow haze

[eatsbooks]

woke up directly back on my bullshit

[eatsbooks]

can i say something as a gal who had a day from the pits of hell and then also a few glasses of wine and is now watching off campus yet again . justice for justin’s yellow haze

[eatsbooks]

“wait…….justin’s in beau’s frat……….” rack focus to guy who is absolutely not and has never been in a frat in his life

[kosmogrl]

[eatsbooks]

do you think beron's father was worse than he was? so in a twisted way beron thinks he is actually better to his children than the one before him?

i love to think beron's father was indeed a ruthless but highly pragmatic sumbitch and that beron thinks himself to be walking in the same shoes—just more polished, more perfected, more tried and true. he learned from his father and so he can only ascend from the path his father wore into the land. not as a father, which i don't think he cares about as much as he cares about having successors, but as a ruler. those are one and the same to him. however, because (my own personal hc) beron was 1) not the chosen heir; 2) had to hew his way up his family tree to become it; and 3) was largely disregarded by his own father, he has this ancient, largely smoothed away chip on his shoulder when it comes to not being innately chosen, innately best, innately strong—and that gets huuugely exacerbated by loa cheating on him, which in turn makes him a much worse father. not that he was a good one to begin with.

i popped this little paragraph in umbrage re: beron and his father

His father would have done so in the very moment that her betrayal was made known, before the indignation had chance to rekindle in him, tucked away there where not even he was permitted to feel the wafting shame of it. That death would have been unkindlier than the one he bestowed would be, and it would not have preserved this dignity she clings to. His father would have borne his shame onto her sevenfold.

in it, beron's thinking about how he wants to kill loa for cheating on him and that his father would have done so immediately upon finding out, regardless of personal feelings. he's kind of got this interesting like ... he tacitly regards himself as weaker than his father for not being able to kill loa outright for the disrespect, but he also has that little slip of his true feelings being the unchosen, uncared for son: he thinks of his father's potential reaction as unkind—kindness being something beron has not cared about in centuries probably. just an itsy bitsy peek of beron the child, who once knew the emotions of indignation and jealousy and unworthiness but who bloodied his hands and became a kinslayer so as never to know them again—only to be cheated on and feel them like a brand renewed.

tangent but i also love him not being heir and having to kill his way to the throne as being an added element to the impossibility of eris being a perfect son and heir to him. because eris was born heir, there's always this though in beron's mind that eris simply had things handed to him, no matter how much eris tries and tries and tries and— because beron is jealous. in eris, his sees, perhaps, his older brother, who he loved, who he hated, who he killed. perfect eris. flawless eris. the better eris is, the more beron resents him. beron wants another son to kill eris. wants another son to be him. kinslayer. one who triumphs above adversity and takes what he deserves. what wasn't just handed to him by virtue of his birth. one who forces the hand of the mother, of the land, of fate itself. one who demands his own destiny. and because that all ties back to beron's father in a convoluted way—a father who just didn't really care for him because he wasn't heir, which made him feel unworthy—when loa cheats on him and exacerbates that mortal wound, he takes it out all the more on eris. chosen eris. worthy eris. perfect eris.

eris who can never, ever be what his father wants of him, no matter how he tries—because what his father wants of him, really, is for him to be dead.

[eatsbooks]

can i say something as a gal who had a day from the pits of hell and then also a few glasses of wine and is now watching off campus yet again . justice for justin’s yellow haze

[genniearts]

MY KIDS.

[eatsbooks]

okay so…. Do you have any thoughts on Tamlin‘s relationship with his mother??

some thoughts have indeed been percolating about them ever since i reblogged this poem a few days ago:

tamlin whose mother seeks to protect him by quashing his “softer” more artistic instincts. her sweet son, her gentle son who cannot be so, not with a father like his, not with two brothers who would have torn him clean from her womb if they knew he would eventually show markers of being heir. no poetry. no lyricism. no sketching. pay attention—stop listening to the wind; it does not sing, and even if it did, you do not hear it. and young tamlin sets his jaw. his chest puffs. his fists ball tight. yes, he says. i do. because his brothers just roughed him up for the same thing. his claws poke out. his magic gusts from him. in that moment, she knows for certain what she had only suspected: tamlin is the heir to spring. and he is soft. and he will get eaten.

she loves her son. her sweet son. her gentle son. that’s why she strips him of it. that’s why she encourages him to swallow his emotions—all of them except his anger, which he can show because it makes him hard and tough and lordly. but that is never quite enough, so that’s why she nudges her husband towards sending him to the war bands once he’s of age. to toughen the boy, her husband sneers like he’s the one to have come up with the idea. to see him hearty and hale. it hurts her. it does. she loves her sweet, gentle son; she loves her memories of him with butterflies on every crook, of him fighting sleep beneath the willow to try to write out its song, of him shyly playing his first composition just for her. but she loves him so much that she does not wish to lose him, and so she lets him go.

tamlin loves his mom just as much. he tries not to listen to the wind; he tries not to think in verse and listen in meter. he puts all of himself into his training with his father’s war band. nothing works. nothing sticks. he is a beast but he is not beastly. they deride him and snicker at him and force him to perform all the most grueling tasks. which he does without complaint—but so much anger beneath. until one day he’s around a campfire and the males around him start a game: who can come up with the filthiest limericks? he does not engage. absolutely refuses. it’s his chance to bond, thrown to him by miach (renascence oc mentioned SORRY) after miach heard him unintentionally singing to himself while polishing armor, and he spits on it. because his mother would be appalled. it isn’t until three nights later when—completely out of the blue—he spits the hottest filthiest bars spring has ever known. there’s a lad, miach snorts. he pours tamlin some mead. tamlin knows companionship.

the more tamlin knows companionship, the better tamlin does in the war band. the other males aren’t any easier on him but they are more patient. more supportive. they only blanch for a few hours when he gets so frustrated as to shift into beast. then they begin strategizing on how best to use him. how best to weaponize him. the lad has brawn—the lad has might; he has no need for finesse. (this is where rhysand’s illyrian training later comes in because it’s his magic and shapeshifting that’s capitalized on, not his combat; this is also why rhysand assumes other courts’ legions are not as well-trained.) but the better tamlin does in the war band, the more disjointed from himself he feels.

all the more distant from his mother.

because the beast is a part of him, but it isn’t all he is. this anger mounts in him. it makes him formidable. it makes him fierce and vicious. and when he’s young, he’s so afraid it will become him. that he will forget the song of spring—forget that he ever loved it, forget why he came to hate hearing it. he thinks it’s just the nature of the beast—but really it’s the parts of himself he was forced to suffocate. then, at some point, the anger does become him. it nestles in like a seed in soil. it sprouts. it delves its roots deep. it barbs itself at others. his mother is proud of it, but he isn’t. he learns to be stoic. he learns to swallow his anger like his other emotions, but his anger has thorns. it never settles clean. it always tears back up and up and up. later, he’ll think it has it will become all he is. it will nearly destroy him.

but spring has a song. he has heard it since he was in the cradle. that song has never left him—and it insists upon rebirth.

[okthatsgreat]

“ooohhhh this teenage girl character is so annoyinggg because she didn’t react to extreme stress in a way that was reasonable or what i consider to be normal oooooooohh” well i’m launching the missile