Verious Stages Of Disappointment. @classybasementgardener - Tumblr Blog

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, rightful queen of Terrasen

aelin fireheart not really how I pictured her but oh well

Reblog if you’re not Tumblr famous, and you post the stuff because you like it, and you follow people because you actually like their blog.

rendnotmyheart

Lysandra: Are you a big spoon or a little spoon?

Aelin: I’m a knife.

Rowan, from across the room: She’s a little spoon.

it just hit me

Nesta in ACOFAS reminds me of Aelin in Wendlyn, while they were both depressed and drinking all the wine in their respective cities.

#acofas #ACOFAS #acotar #acotar series #nesta archeron #aelin ashryver galathenius

huffpost

‘My Hijab Has Nothing To Do With Oppression. It’s A Feminist Statement’

Not all Muslim women cover their bodies. Not all Muslim women who do are forced to do so. Like freelance writer Hanna Yusuf, who chooses to wear a hijab in a daily act of feminism. In a new video for The Guardian, Yusuf challenges stereotypes by setting out to reclaim the choice to wear a hijab as “a feminist statement.”

For more on on how the hijab helps women reclaim their bodies watch the full video here.

baetoul-deactivated20170708

“To try and attain the unattainable”*

babyfootdown

I am not Muslim but I am so glad to see this because honestly I had never ever thought about it this way, I feel like I’ve been so ignorant, my eyes and mind have been opened

thatadult

sending “I hope you get that job” vibes to the people out here tryna get jobs

theeeprotagonist

reblogging for yall bc the shit worked for me lol

blkmedusa

Karma will pop me if I don’t

myhighlordrhysand

I need this right now, so spreading the good vibes

the-suriel-deserved-better

Person: What do you mean you don’t get much sleep?

Me: It’s gotten to the point where even my parents are happy when I fall asleep before 1 a.m.

Me: *curls in on myself once more until I have resumed fetal position and can comfortably ignore life during my fifth mental breakdown of the hour*

classybasementgardener

but how fuckin relatable

hexmaniacmareen

what they say: cats are evil and unable to love

what they mean: i dont know how to handle small animals and consider them lashing out in SELF DEFENSE an insult

rad-roach

Usually what it boils down to is “I’m mad because the cat didn’t act like a dog”.

aedicn

x

“But if it was death separating us … I would find you. I don’t care how many rules it would break. Even if I had to get all three keys myself and open a gate, I would find you again.

Always.”

fireheartbre

“Even if I had to get all three keys myself and open a gate, I would find you again. ”

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OKAY KNOWING SJM, this is most DEFINITELY A CLUE/ FORESHADOW. * fingers crossed*

acourtofglass

Aelin Galanthynius

She was beautiful, but in the way a forest fire was beautiful.

tanjelisa

He just dunked it in the milky water and attacked his face, the back of his neck, the strong column of his throat. The full tattoo down his left arm gleamed with the water sliding off him… He washed while she spoke, scrubbing himself down with brutal efficiency. He lifted the lavender soap to his hair, and she squeaked. (Queen of Shadows)

I like how when Sarah is describing Rowan washing himself, she says he “attacks” his face, the back of his neck, etc. and scrubs “himself down with brutal efficiency” because at his heart Rowan is a warrior who hasn’t quite yet found his peace. So even when he’s taking a freaking bath (which should be peaceful), he feels the need to complete everything in an efficient rough sort of way because he has that sort of mentality to keep on moving to distract him from his dark past. Even the whole focus on his tattoo just shows how far away Rowan is from inner peace.

But then Aelin comes and washes hair and it’s like all of his stress sort of melts away: Even Rowan breathed it in as she scrubbed the tonic into his scalp. “I could still probably braid this,” she mused. “Very teensy-tiny braids, so—” He growled, but leaned back against the tub, his eyes closed. “You’re no better than a house cat,” she said, massaging his head. He let out a low noise in his throat that might very well have been a purr.

But it’s not even just Rowan who gets into that sort of tranquil state. Aelin, also a warrior at heart, feels a sense of peace as well. It’s that bond and trust between each other that enables them to feel safe and comforted in each other’s presence (i.e. Rowan and Aelin playing the pianoforte; Aelin being able to walk away with her back to Lorcan because Rowan’s there; Rowan and Aelin stretching for each other in bed when the two of them were separated).

But it’s not even Rowan and Aelin who feel a sense of peace around each other, it’s the entire Terrasen court that feels safe in each other’s presence. Again, it’s the whole trust and bond concept.

Three weeks of grueling travel—but also three of the happiest weeks Aelin had ever experienced. (Queen of Shadows)

It’s incredibly important that the whole foundation of Aelin’s court is based upon trust and love because only then will they be able to become a court that upholds the Old Ways and changes the world. It’s so important because only then will corruption be nonexistent, or at the very least a minor issue, and there would be people, who genuinely care, working for the greater good. It’s a stark difference from Maeve’s court which is based upon a Blood Oath that inspires fear, slavery, and total obedience. Her court isn’t based upon anything substantial which is why I believe that Aelin’s court WILL indeed come out on top, even if there are some serious casualties.

uponadaydreamer

“Crown of Fire.” Fan art piece of Aelin ‘Fireheart’ in Throne of Glass.

queen-of-lightning-and-fire

They tell the story around campfires. In great halls. In kitchens. And in taverns. In the skies, on the desert plains, and in the howling mountains. They tell the stories to little girls and little boys. They tell the stories to future kings and queens. They tell the story of a ragtag band of misfits, mercenaries, thieves, and assassins. Of royal born and street urchins who fought side by side. They tell the story of the Queen who was promised.

They tell the legend of a mystical queen who could burn the world with her flames. Who had scars on her back and hands from her time as a slave. Who lived a double life as an assassin but came back for her people. Who banished the dark queen and brought back the light.

They tell the story of a long-awaited king who had powers the likes of which had not been seen for over a decade. Who defeated his predecessor and saved his subjects. Who was just and merciful and who had a penchant for knowledge. Who had once worn a collar around his neck and who had a phantom haunt him from the moment it came off.

They tell the story of a rejected lord who was once a guard. Who was the most loyal friend a man could ask for. Who believed in right and wrong. Who went on the run but stayed to help the people. Who went to the south unable to walk and returned with an army.

They tell the story of a warrior prince who was the fiercest in all the lands. Who once was the lackey of the dark queen but was the first to leave her side. Who had ice and wind running through his veins. And who wore the story of his shame for all the world to see.

They tell the story of a deadly queen who drank the blood of men. Who was spared by her enemy and waged war against her family. Who guided her people to peace and into a new age. And who united two races who wared for over a century.

They tell the stories of the women. Beauties and fighters. One who could change her skin like some put on a different outfit. One who always aimed her arrow straight and true. One who was saved by a queen in an alleyway and in turn saved another and then another and then another. One who was a beacon for her people from the moment she was born until the moment her life was snuffed out. One who ended the suffering of many and who saved thousands. One who trecked across the continent to find her lost queen and never gave up hope. And one who gave her life for a better world.

They tell the stories of the men. Legends and tall tales. Men who were the fiercest warriors in all the lands. Who once served the dark queen but left her for a brighter flame. A man who let the world think the worst of him, but always stood by his family. A man who rode the skies like some men walk the earth. A man who gave his life and heart for a woman he never indeed knew. But loved none the less.

They tell the stories of these men and women. These kings and queens. These gods and goddesses. They whisper them as the candlesticks melt into nothing. They chant them as rain stomps on the roofs. They murmur them on days when the winds are so loud they rattle the worlds. They recount them on nights when the snow is so thick you can’t even see your hand in front of you. They recite these stories on the killing fields bathed in blood. They quote these stories in books and by word of mouth to anyone who will listen. They hiss these stories in lands whose names have been forgotten. They proclaim these stories to their children and their children and their children. They remember the stories of Aelin Ashryver Galathynius and the sacrifices she made until night descends upon the realms.