Why Is Their Poetry Actually Good Tho

Monday February 20.

Aromantic Awareness Week!

It's Aro Week! This one is a bit special, folks. Today, for #aromantic Awareness Week, we are celebrating all things aromantic. This one is for you mighty fine folk. Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week (ASAW) is a week to spread awareness and acceptance of aromantic spectrum identities, the issues the community faces, and not to mention a chance for the community to celebrate their experiences and existence! ASAW generally occurs the first full week (starting Sunday) following Valentine’s Day. It was conceived, in large part, as a way for those in the aromantic community who had difficulty finding space for their experiences in such a universally romanticized event to come together and celebrate their own unique experiences.

Here at Tumblr, our community is doing what it does best and marks Aro Week with its winning combination of pizzazz, thoughtfulness, and good humor. You can check it out below or catch the latest over at #aromantic.

Random welcome home crack theory, but what if we’re home?

Since the show is called “Welcome home” and Wally is welcoming us as a new neighbor essentially. So what if we’re home in some way?

“…what the actual fuck- PUT IT BACK!” Alex exclaimed, hands flying everywhere around them. They‘d done enough things today that could make them criminals back in her hometown, and the same was probably true here, alternate universe or timeline or whatever! Honestly, Alex was getting really tired of this job already, and the Lieutenant wasn’t making any of it easier.

“Pft-“ The maniac in question cawed, spinning the bloody sword with a crazed giddiness. It made the other uneasy. “Why would I do that, mi amiga, when he’s already dead?” The bloodied silver of the blade was pointed right in Alex’s face, almost grazing the very tip of her nose. The girl shrieked, falling backwards onto the dusty, rocky ground.

“D-don’t point it at me!” She choked out rather squeakily, glaring daggers as the other cackles.

“Alright, alright, I will!” Phoenix waved a hand as she responded, spinning the sword one more time. Soon enough, she tossed it over her head. They heard it whistling flying through the air for a moment, until a shriek of pain echoed it. The blonde’s almost bat-like ears fell a bit, clawed hands grabbing Alex’s as they fell into a run. “Rápida, to the avian city!”

“To the what?!”

“Luego; I’ll explain after my shortcut!”

“That doesn’t-“ Her frustration was silenced by her own shriek as she was dragged head first into a portal. The golden glow disoriented everything, ears buzzing and ringing in tune with every single sensation of the universe. It was like being pulled like taffy and torn apart, only put back together by tape; All for a god damn shortcut! They should’ve kept that sword, so Alex could chop that cocky, careless head off it’s immortal pedestal.

Oh, right. Immortal.

God damn this job.

“Where did you get a sword?!”

“Found it.”

“Where?!”

“Dead body.”

Happy Thanksgiving, you super stars! I hope everyone is staying safe, happy, and healthy during these times of COVID-19, regardless of how insane it is that we’re all stuck in quarantine and stuff.

I did some doodles of personified Discord Bots from the Danganronpa Roleplay server I’m in. Hope you guys like them!

Other than that, I just want you all to know that you’re all:

Strong

Cooler than cucumbers

Fabulous

Magnificent

Unbelievably amazing

This post probably won’t mean much, maybe it will. Who knows? COVID has made everything crazy and unpredicatable.

Okay, so…this is gonna be a very very very lore based-rewrite redesign because I think there’s a lot that can be done with the Bride of Rich Nights, especially since she didn’t get much of an actual role in the comics besides…being murdered for her position. Alongside that, we never actually got an actual replacement for her? Which…is the clan just run by officials?

I’m going to try and spiff things up a bit here, so let’s get to it!

Bride of Rich Nights 💎

The Bride of Rich Nights, the former Matriarch of the Yagyu clan, the self-exiled hermit of the Dragon kingdom’s mountains, simply known as Diamona the bat.

Originally, Diamona inherited her title from the former Bride of Rich Nights, her older sister and mentor Echo, after she stepped down, feeling herself unfit for the position. She was able to manage the clan with little complications, even keeping most of her relations with other clans quite well despite the peace treaty between them being…less than enforced. Things were a bit tense between them. However, The Clan Wars that happened so long ago would soon be reignited by a horrible mistake…

You see, Diamona had very little complications, but she still had issues and problems. Specifically, her greed and paranoia. The Yagyu were known assassins and thieves, raised to favor gold and riches over all else. Wealth was everything and anything to the clan. However, none favored riches more than Diamona.

Her closest guards one day came to her with news. Little did she know though that this very information would flip her world around on its crowned head. The news? The Bride of Constant Vigil was planning something against her, something that involved her riches. Still much younger than the other Brides and far less wise at the time, she considered her options. But the most pleasing one came to her quickly.

Thus, she sent her apprentice, Mithral, to get rid of Vigil’s most precious thing. Her son. The apprentice, however, could not stomach this, for the Bride’s son was still a child and Mithral herself on the edge of adulthood. So, instead, she tricked him into venturing out, knocked him unconscious, and flew him far away enough that he would not be able to return easily. To a place called…Downunda, she would tell her bride later, reasoning that she followed her orders.

This was not what the Bride wanted though. She wanted Vigil to suffer for plotting against her and her clan! However, news reached quickly and, as it turns out, this still was impactful. Vigil became furious but blamed Reach instead of Diamona. As it turns out, Reach blamed Storm for theft of one of her written down visions, which Storm denied but blamed Vigil for it. As it turns out, Diamona’s command caused the treaty to break and war to begin once more with Diamona right in the center of it. The three attempted to get her on their side, each with riches of some kind.

Fo once in her life, she denied them every single time. She could not be bought. The riches she once desired and obsessed over now brought her pain and discomfort to look upon. What had she done? She didn’t mean for war, she didn’t mean to cause any of this. Diamona stewed away for days, alone until her apprentice finally broke that self-confinement. Mithral asked what she was going to do.

So she did the only thing she could do. Diamona told Mithral she would step-down, leave her people to pick someone more befitting. She wasn’t fit to rule and that was blatantly clear to her now. Her behavior had been horrible and inexcusable, clouded by her paranoia and greed.

However, she gave Mithral one more command as her bride. Find Vigil’s son, find the missing prophecy, and bring them both back to fix the mistake she can’t. She doesn’t deserve their forgiveness, not now and probably not ever. Mithral agreed and helped her leave without a trace, heading off herself after aiding her Bride one last time.

Present day, she resides deep within the caverns of the mountain areas, guiding any lost residents from the shadows who wander too deep. She lives alone, self-exiled until she can believe she deserves any chance at redemption. Her guilt eats at her, though Diamona is a bit surprised by how satisfied she is without all of her once precious treasures.

However, what she never realized was that her sudden vanishing made the other Brides believe that the same person who made Vigil’s son vanish made The Bride of Rich Nights vanish as well. This only made the fighting worse. Mithral is still searching as well, doing her absolute best to fulfill her Bride’s final order. Perhaps though…she may just stumble upon her goal soon enough. With help from the freedom fighters…or perhaps from a certain detective agency? That’s a story for another time though, isn’t it?

SHE IS BONITA OMG…

Realizations

What if...

Headcanon that Swap absolutely HATES being called cute or demeaning/belittling nicknames (except for by lust, his make him melt)

madarai

Headcanon that because elves aren’t great about time, and tend to have their heads in the literal stars, it is not unheard of for food to rot without them being aware that enough time could possibly have passed since it was harvested for it to no longer be good; it’s only been what like five minutes, maybe five years…? can’t possibly have gone bad yet. And since it’s not like eating food that’s gone bad actually hurts them, they just kind of…do. Not all the time, or anything. But sometimes. Without noticing. And worse (especially in the opinion of Hobbits, but also in the opinion of really anything non-elven that has ever sat at an elvish feast-table, although they’re generally better about food that they serve to guests because they specifically cook stuff to impress then, which makes it a lot more likely that whomever is doing the apple-tart will go “oh hey these apples are all squishy, let’s get some new ones” than they do when they’re just cooking for themselves) without caring.

Headcanon that this is also because ever since the Two Trees fell, everything in the world has tasted a little bit of death and ashes anyway so how can they be expected to notice if that apple has a bit of brown on it, when everything already tastes like the bitterness of fading to their tongue? Everything except the absolute freshest, newest, ripest fruits of a new spring, anyway. So the first harvest-fest of the year is a big deal to elves, and it’s not entirely because they just really like it when the flowers come back. It’s also the only time they can eat anything without tasting the ashes of Morgoth’s treachery against their lips and it’s not something they really talk about or even consciously notice….

But they do.

Doesn’t stop the Hobbits complaining, of course.

I’m gonna be honest. I think Amane killed her dad