Okay tog fandom, acotar fandom. This bitch has something to say

Yes, I want diversity in sjm books. Yes I want to see diversions from the norms. Yes I want certain stuff to happen that isn’t cliche. BUT I DO NOT WANT A FORCED PIECE OF DIVERSITY. It is so painstakingly obvious when an author tries to force something to please their audience. I can not stand to read it. So listen here, for a moment.

I am not afraid to admit that, sure, there are times when I’m left wondering why the opportunity wasn’t taken for diversity. But then again. When sjm started these books she was 16, at that age, a poc character, seeing female characters who were strong and capable, male characters who weren’t afraid to show weakness, someone exploring their sexuality, gay couples, people in the LGBT+ community, and more, we’re a big thing. They were unheard of to exist in the one story, without racism or homophobia, it was not done. Sure, you can say it’s typical the back character died to help the white character, let’s put it that bluntly. But do you honestly think, that it was done on purpose. Do you think, Nehimas skin colour would’ve made a difference. Because I can tell you if she was white you’d be asking for her to be black.

You complain we haven’t seen that much diversity. But then, have we been given the chance. This story is mainly taking place in a mainly white part of the kingdom, tbh, we have yet to see the other ones. And we will, because Chaol’s whole book is taking place in the Southern Continent, and if you’ve forgotten, Nesryn is a poc, from that world.

You complain, fandom, that enough hasn’t been done. But, there is still books to come and let’s be honest. Tog was published 2012, the need for diversity didn’t reach this level of want until 2016. That does not mean it shouldn’t have been included up until that point but it means that different things were looked for in books. But back in Lil old 2012 sjm would’ve been diverse. Not because of Nehima, or anything like that, but because of the way her characters were written. What readers have forgotten is that, diversity does not mean, the guy is gay, the girl is bisexual and there’s some pocs thrown in, JUST TO PLEASE US. Diversity means being diverse in your writing, moving away from social normality, and sjm does that.

Yes, more could be done. But more books have yet to be released, and as I will constantly say, she has created massive world’s, and we’ve yet to see more than the too of the iceberg. And anyway, who says you have to imagine them the way they were written. This world of fae and magic is sjm, she just chose to share it. Remember that. Remember, in the end, it’s only fiction. You can always write your own story.

This fandom is ridiculous as times. We’ve become selfish. We’ve forgotten sjm is an actual person. She is trying her best. As a writer, how you see your characters is how you see them. How they act and die and live is how they do it. And as any writer knows, you do not create your characters, they create themselves. What happens happens, and unless the author is racist or writing a particular genre or setting their book in a particular era, they do not kill a character just because they’re poc or part of the LGBT+ community.

It needs to be said. Yeah, more could be done, but, maybe, we could use our hearts, and be as compassionate to her as we are to her characters.

Aeline IS Captain Jack Sparrow

@highladystarfall pointed this out in a post and I couldn’t stop laughing

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Yup, that’s definitely Aelin. And all the people that want her dead

The last one. Empire of Storms alternative cover. Art by @uponadaydreamer .This is how I imagine Aelin when Deanna got over her body. One of the best paintings of our fireheart I have seen.

Look forward to the Acotar covers..

okay but

when rowan finally gets to aelin, and she’s probably locked inside the coffin without any hope of ever getting out, so completely battered and broken physically but content because she knows she did everything possible to give her people, her court, her family a chance, 
and then suddenly she hears some kind of inhuman roar through the iron box that muffles almost all noise, but somehow this sound is loud enough to still hurt her ears even through the box,
and screeching as someone physically rips open the box, and she can smell copious amounts of blood in the air and the entire cadre is there, summoned by Rowan for the break in a day earlier and using all of their strength to save the queen they want to serve from the one they deplore,
and they shakily lift her out of the coffin but she can’t even be grateful because Rowan’s not  t h e r e, and if he’s not with them he must be hurt and oh  g o d s what if he’s dead, and she’s starting to lose it because she can handle whippings and beatings and torture but she can’t handle her mate being gone, not having been able to save him–
and then there’s a shriek nearby and suddenly he’s there, her mate is there, in the same room as her, cut and bruised and limping but alive, and with him is Maeve, but something is different and–oh gods, her neck is broken, her mate killed the woman who has starred in every one of her nightmares for the last year, the ones that didn’t end when she woke up, when the pain from the bone deep injuries pulled her out of brief unconsciousness, her magic unable to heal so many extensive injuries, and not in an iron box, iron shavings sprinkled onto her tattered skin after her session every day before she could be returned to the coffin, Maeve is DEAD she’s finally gone, and aelin lets out the smallest sound of relief,
and then rowan is next to her, snatching her out of his brothers’ arms quickly, but so carefully, tears building up in his eyes at the sight of her in so much pain, shaking with rage at quite how much blood and muscle is visible,
and her mouth starts to move, and she wants to apologize for not telling him about the mating bond and for sacrificing herself and not telling him, but he can see it in her face and cocks his head in the way she knows means don’t you dare apologize, Fireheart and gods she has missed this effortless communication, and Rowan, everything about Rowan, her husband and consort and mate,
and they’re both grasping each other tightly to assure that they’re real, because Rowan has seen his mate’s face day in and day out in battle strategy discussions next to Aedion and in the nightmares that never seem to end, and Aelin never thought this suffering would end but he’s here, he came for her even though they both knew he shouldn’t have, and she can’t stop looking at him, at that face she loves, and then he turns to face her directly and for a moment she thinks she’s seeing double–but no, there’s that scar above his left eyebrow, so the only thing that makes sense is–
“You got a new tattoo.” her voice is quiet and hoarse, but still so unequivocally Aelin, and he wants to both laugh and sob into her because of course, of course that’s the first thing she notices, the first thing she says to him, the first thing his mate says to him after being apart for a year, so he nods and clears his throat,
“I–our story needed to be represented there too. I mentioned the idea to Fenrys the morning you–the morning after our ceremony. And then you were gone, and…” his throat felt swollen shut, but he continued speaking. “and then it seemed only right that you had a place next to Lyria’s, even though I hadn’t learned my lesson and…” he trails off, but she can read the “failed you, failed you both but here again Maeve went right by me and I failed you
“Buzzard,” she says, and she could tell him all the same with her eyes and her face but after so long of nothing escaping her mouth but screams, it feels so good to talk, “I can’t have you taking credit for my abduction when we both know I’m simply too clever of a mastermind for you to have realized what was happening. And you’re here now, and that…I could never have asked it of anyone. You came.”
“Of course I came,” he can’t stop looking at her, hands still wrapped gingerly around her emaciated frame, and if he hadn’t already rutting killed Maeve and Carn he would lose it right now at feeling her ribs poking at skin where there used to be layers of muscle. “I’m not just anyone.” his voice cracks, and he so so hates displays of emotion and mushiness but he needs her to hear it, to know. “I love you, Fireheart. You’re going to have to get used to the idea that I’m never going to let you go if we’re going to be mated for the rest of both of our fae lifespans.”
and she’s laughing and crying, because of course she is, and this arrogant, territorial male is hers for all of that time, and she wants to ask after Aedion and Lysandra and Elide and Dorian and Chaol and Nesryn and the thirteen, but she knows he wouldn’t leave them defenseless for anything, and her mate is here and he knows he’s her mate and gods is she so glad to have the ridiculous buzzard in her life.
He gets her out of the dungeon, out of the palace and she can feel him tense when they get into the sunlight and the iron in her wounds is visible, and he starts to growl but restrains himself when the sound makes her cower the tiniest bit, and he presses his lips to her temple but she can feel the wind delicately removing the tiny metal bits from her back, and her magic slowly, slowly starts to knit the skin back together, cell by cell, and then she’s in a featherbed sleeping finally because she knows there’s no way in hell he will take his eyes off of her for the next century, and a few hours later she opens her eyes because something thumps onto the deck of the ship, and she startles and clenches her fists because they must have found her, but then her door is thrown open and Lysandra is there, running to her with tremendous sobs, and she can smell the cadre in the hallway, and Chaol runs in too, but they’re both thrown out of the way by a volatile Aedion, and she knows something must be wrong because Dorian and Manon and Elide aren’t there, oh gods not Dorian, and she knows well enough that war comes with sacrifices, but it was supposed to be her, not her book loving best friend, and of her a moment they’re all crying together before Lysandra pulls a sealed envelope from her pocket, addressed to her in that regal script, and she bursts out laughing because of course he left her a note, of course he’s going to tell her he chose this, it’s so very Dorian, 
and she spends days like this, crying and laughing and healing and trying not to flinch at every noise and voice, wrapped in Rowan’s arms and catching up on hundreds of hours of sleep deprivation, until one morning he’s shaking her and she groans in opposition, but he pulls her to her feet and helps her to the deck, and her breath catches because she can smell it already–pine and snow and love and happiness and oh gods, they’re finally–
“Home,” Rowan breathes in her ear. “We’re home, Fireheart.”

Debate over the next ToG title

I am thinking something with “World of”. However, i think since the gods are probably gonna play such a huge role, it’ll have something to do with immortality or gods

Personally, I like “Goddess of” something. Like “Goddess of Flame” or “Gods or worlds” or Gods/Goddesses of____. 

I also like, heavens of ____. 

Just anything with an immortal or god like theme.

What do you all think?

When May 2nd comes, I’ll turn off like any social media in existence, I will lock myself in my room with a bunch of snacks and water and just read. I feel like I won’t come out of my room the same person I was before. And that my friends is the power of Sarah J Maas’ books.