Okay, for aro awareness week, I need you all to start recognizing that:
NOT EVERYONE IN THE ARO COMMUNITY IS FROM THE UNITED STATES OR EUROPE.
Please, when we're having discussions about aphobia, allonormativity amatonormativity, and other issues for the love of god STOP PRETENDING THAT WE DON'T EXIST AND LISTEN TO US!
We aren't just your token aros that exist in the other side of the world just for you to prove that we are everywhere or whatever point you're trying to make, we are living, breathing human beings and members of the aro community and we deserve respect and to be remembered not as a point in your discourse but as equals.
I am sick and tired of people just assuming that everyone in the community is either from the United States or Europe and only centering those voices in the discussion. We exist too.
(pj and sophie delivered something they made for some friends' project to central london, got horribly stuck in traffic, those friends ended up spontaneously paying for a hotel room for them and they spent part of the next day with them)
that's...quite likely yeah. i mean i suppose it could be anyone but the fact that he doesn't specify who it is tells me there's a decent chance it's for the ever-so-secretive dan and phil and the tour lmao
Not to be pro-monarchy on main but it is insane George VI was raised as the second son with a terrible stutter at a time when speech therapy as we know it was only an emerging concept, was catapulted into unexpected kingship against his will by his shitty brother and then immediately after plunged into the second world war, and managed to emotionally hold the entire country together throughout as a figurehead despite everything. Like that's fairly impressive I must say.
And I saw another beast come up out of the earth...and he spake as a dragon. (Revelation 13:11)
.
The Coronation of His Majesty King Bastian I - The Hour of Wolves
When he was born he was a small thing. A screaming infant, a second son, destined perhaps for military greatness, but never dukedom. Never inheritance. Never conquest.
But at the inception of the light, the birth of the world, the moment between silence and splendor when The Glory breathed across the scope of creation: he was no small thing then.
Even then, he was coming.
His rise runs with blood: knives in the back, poison, betrayal, kidnapping and vengeance.
His rise burns with greatness: glory, family, rescue, love and ferocity.
The secret world recognized him before he knew himself. A fairy witch marked his passing and offered her slender wrist for his talons. A dead sun opens its mouth for him, a vanished Christ is his counterpart, a death knight worships before him, a raven-haired little girl holds the hand of her doting and beloved father.
The world we know calls him king of France, the monarch of a seized throne, a general who has promised the great lords England on its knees.
The Devil, in his own tongue, may call him son. The Glory has said nothing.
Would you know him if you saw him? Would you recognize what he is?
Bow, while you consider, and kiss his ring. There is a crown of flame upon his brow.