IDK I Was Drawing A Lot For More AU Noodling With @dullgecko And In The BIG AU DOC We Have Riz And Fabian

A man is driving down the road and breaks down near a monastery. He goes to the monastery, knocks on the door, and says, “My car broke down. Do you think I could stay the night?” The monks graciously accept him, feed him dinner, even fix his car. As the man tries to fall asleep, he hears a strange sound. The next morning, he asks the monks what the sound was, but they say, “We can’t tell you. You’re not a monk.” The man is disappointed but thanks them anyway and goes about his merry way. Some years later, the same man breaks down in front of the same monastery. The monks accept him, feed him, even fix his car. That night, he hears the same strange noise that he had heard years earlier. The next morning, he asks what it is, but the monks reply, “We can’t tell you. You’re not a monk.” The man says, “All right, all right. I’m *dying* to know. If the only way I can find out what that sound was is to become a monk, how do I become a monk?” The monks reply, “You must travel the earth and tell us how many blades of grass there are and the exact number of sand pebbles. When you find these numbers, you will become a monk.” The man sets about his task. Forty-five years later, he returns and knocks on the door of the monastery. He says, “I have traveled the earth and have found what you have asked for. There are 145,236,284,232 blades of grass and 231,281,219,999,129,382 sand pebbles on the earth.” The monks reply, “Congratulations. You are now a monk. We shall now show you the way to the sound.” The monks lead the man to a wooden door, where the head monk says, “The sound is right behind that door.” The man reaches for the knob, but the door is locked. He says, “Real funny. May I have the key?” The monks give him the key, and he opens the door. Behind the wooden door is another door made of stone. The man demands the key to the stone door. The monks give him the key, and he opens it, only to find a door made of ruby. He demands another key from the monks, who provide it. Behind that door is another door, this one made of sapphire. So it went until the man had gone through doors of emerald, silver, topaz, and amethyst. Finally, the monks say, “This is the last key to the last door.” The man is relieved to no end. He unlocks the door, turns the knob, and behind that door he is amazed to find the source of that strange sound. But I can’t tell you what it is because you’re not a monk

Franz Kafka, 1912

Fabian's getting a sibling. his friends are all excited for it. Hallariel and Gilear are over the moon. he burnt all his baby clothes and as a result, everyone has been shopping, been preparing for the new baby. Fabian hates it.

once it's born, everyone coos over it, adores it, makes it laugh and looks at it. there's pictures being taken left and right, handmade blankets and shirts with embroidered initials and the softest plushies imaginable gifted from everyone around.

Fabian doesn't want to look at it. he avoids going near its room in the house, starts training and dancing even more and avoids being home as much as he can, so that he doesn't have to watch his mother smile at the little creature, doesn't have to listen to her coo or sing to this child that she loves.

Riz remarks to him that his sibling is cute. Kristen keeps trying to get him to hold it, tells him how you're supposed to keep one arm under and one arm across to ensure it's steady. Fig tells him he must be so excited to be a big brother, and that even though they're step-siblings, it must be thrilling to finally have a biological sibling. Fabian doesn't respond.

he had siblings. numerous ones, all without names and faces, all dead. he never met them. they never got to live much of their lives, murdered by Whitclaw for his father's feuds. no one speaks of them. no one thinks to remember them.

this baby will be the first Lomenelda-Faeth baby, his first biological sibling that doesn't share his Seacaster name, and he feels it viciously. good. it doesn't deserve his name. his legacy.

his friends coo over this baby, this stupid little thing, and his mother has spoken more to this child than she has to him in the past 18 years combined, and it's not jealousy fueling him when he sees his own baby blanket in its clutches. it's grief.

this baby doesn't get to have his stuff. it was a gift from his father, his family, and it doesn't belong to this new creature. it's done nothing to deserve this affection, this adoration. love is earned. love is what happens when you make a mark on the world, when you write your name on every place you've been and are respected and admired.

love is what you get if you become Maximum Legend. it's what you get when you defeat your enemies, or defeat your mother in fencing, or come out in victory after a harsh battle. love isn't freely handed out just because you exist. it's hard earned once you're enough, and Fabian is so, so close to earning it. he's done it all. he's saved the world. he's worked so hard, and done his best, and gotten his mother to stop drinking and be ready to be a mother. so why is she devoting her time and affection to this stupid little thing that hasn't done anything yet?

it's not fair. and he thinks about it when he slams the door behind him in the morning, the unfamiliar lilting notes of his mother's lullaby burning in his ears, until the roar of the Hangman finally drowns it out.

it must be so exciting to have a sibling, Fabian! it echoes in his ears. he thinks of Captain James on Leviathan, his grotesque tentacles crawling over his head, his foul breath just inches from his face. "Oh, I have so many of your siblings’ brains in me stomach already." how many of his siblings met their ends like that? how many of his siblings died without ever getting to tell him their name, without making their own mark on the world or knowing that there were more of them?

the wind howls around him and the Hangman furiously blasts down the roads, Elmville rushing past. he has enough siblings. none of them survived long enough for him to ever learn their name. this child, this baby, this stupid little sibling has done nothing to earn all the affection it's been getting, this love that's now handed out freely where he's never ever received a scrap without fighting for it tooth and nail. it's got enough.

he takes his crystal out, debates for a moment, and deletes all new notifications. he puts it on Do Not Disturb. he owes this new child nothing. he never got to learn the names of any of his other siblings. this baby, he decides, has done nothing to earn that privilege. there's nothing special about it. he's had enough of siblings, and he doesn't need another. he's a Seacaster, the last of his name. this child is not. it's a Lomenelda-Faeth, two people whose name he does not share and two people who haven't looked at him in weeks. he doesn't need them. they don't get to need him.

the Hangman's engine roars, and he thinks about his mother's singing. how he hasn't heard her ever sing before. he tries to recall it, and the song slips into a Halfling accent before he can stop himself. the motor revs, and he drives on.

this is probably the best compilation out there

Losing my mind over this article

Reminder to vote in the European Elections on May 23rd

To all the EU citizens who see this; Tomorrow is the date of the European elections. Far right populism is on the rise throughout Europe and they are most likely to win seats with a poor voter turn out. The best way to stop them is to go and vote them down, and make sure as many people as possible vote too. In Britain especially, the best way to send a message against brexit is to turn out en mass to vote for either the SNP in Scotland or the Lib Dems in rUK. These are the main parties opposing brexit so a vote for them sends a message

best friends forever

Petitions - UK Government and Parliament

Petition: Reverse the decision to block the Gender Recognition Reform (Scotland) Bill

I want the Government to reverse their decision to block the Gender Recognition Reform (Scotland) Bill, as this legislation contains importa

hey if you're a UK resident can you sign this petition and if not please rb to spread the word

this is an official UK government petition that they have to respond to if it reaches 10,000 signatures

Lol  it’s all ‘we should center the voices of the victims of Imperial core’ till people here realize that this has to be a sustained effort that would need the same energy from beginning to end, no matter how many days, months or years go by. Really  crazy that just when so many Gazans are on the site trying to reach out to us, Palestine seems to be falling out of relevance because the coverage of protests in the imperial core has begun to die down

so when virginia woolf writes paragraph long sentences it’s “revolutionary” and “starts a literary movement” but when I do it I’m “grammatically incorrect” and “need to revise this paper”