#little blind

[gabrielokun]

[lurkinginnernarrator]

POV: you are playing poker. you're to the left of the dealer.

You keep on calling it 'little blind' instead of 'small blind'.

thanks xue yang

[misanaco]

love is in all the places you forget to look at, and all the places you remember to.

i always believed loving was the act of reciprocation. the kind of love where iron rots away underneath the weight of our molars and we lose six of our teeth to look like the little children from seven years ago. in my head, my friends loved me, which is to say, i loved them. i always believed loving was the act of reciprocation, four years later, when i was no longer eleven and my friends laughed at me until i started to look like i would snitch to the teacher. but i would never. i bite love under my teeth to be a good friend.

and i would always believe love was a damaged bullet. sometimes it took it four years to hit an empty shell.

and richocet.

it took us six months to do away with my feet, where my bones crumbled under the weight of looking at you one by one; and we would stop talking only to meet each other again and fall in love in a boring month. when i told my best friend about it, she thought i seemed too serious for it to be a real thing and we laughed it off as a joke. and three months in you would say you loved me almost too much for it to exist in this world, and because love was an act of reciprocation; my sincerity had gotten to you. i used to believe love was a damaged bullet, and it would almost always crash before hitting the target, which is to say we would never make it but we meant to.

what does it take for a broken arrow to miss its target and return to the archer; i found out broken things never knew to richocet. and i save recordings on my phone until it's out of storage right back from the day you leave and the love is still there. too much of it. i have always been at war with myself since the day you left, and i have been looking for peace only to end up with martyrs, and a doomed hometown.

and then, i associate love with vision; maybe god created me first when he built these eyeballs, and i look at you down to the folds of skin underneath yours. and then, loving is the act of looking.

maybe as much as i long to see you again, i also dread it; because i would eat away my tongue for the loss of language. maybe i would simply look at you then. and love is the act of looking. maybe love is not reciprocation because i did not stop loving you long after you left too, and i am looking at you constantly and there is just about enough love in this world. i think the thing about love is that it comes in places where it is useless. maybe that is why i am the only one looking.

because if you looked back, we could make so much use out of it.

two weeks into being heartbroken over our breakup, my mother would say God is everywhere, with so much conviction in her words that i almost end up looking at God, with my hands in my lap - useless and empty, and wondering how to catch him. a week later i would walk upto her and ask her where that is and she would look at me in disbelief as if i could not see something so obvious for myself - but to see, you must first love. she would then drag me out of the house and tell me the sky is blue over houses where children starve to death and become orphans, their mothers constantly begging god to fix their cursed fate, and she tells me if they looked up, they would realise there is so much life in them. and the act of looking is as useless as the act of loving - because the two are the same - because you could just choose where to lay your eyes.

maybe you would be crying and your eyes would be fixed at the turn of the wall of the room, your knees bent at the floor like the world were crumbling and then, you would just be looking. maybe you could see the weeds blooming out of the iron odour of filthy blood. she would say love is in every place you forget to look at, and in every place you remember to. she means to talk about God, but everytime she talks of religion it is almost hard to not talk about love.

i also wonder if love is also as omnipresent as God, and why the two are so hard to find. and then i wake up at 6am but there is the crisp odour of burnt charcoal and a little, little sound of death, and i almost feel nice because everyone is just sleeping soundly beside each other - before i realise how fucked everything is. maybe death is such a curse because there is love. maybe we are scared of war more for this love than the dead bodies. and then, you.

maybe i am still alive even though you do not love me back, and the weight of this love is almost making me uglier, but i am glad i love you like this. i am glad i am looking for god in everything you left behind that you deemed useless, and in the soil that i chew so i can do away with the sound of war, and in the trees and in 6am, everywhere. which is to say i am glad i am looking for love everywhere. and loving is the act of looking. i believe i have almost never realised how there is so much i could take for myself, and be the lover of- because loving is the act of looking. and as long as i can deem myself the lover of everything, they could take away my eyeballs too - and i would still find god at the tips of your fingertips. they are almost too heavenly, too gorgeous and there are heartbeats in my throat. maybe i could survive this apocalypse for you. maybe loving is not the act of reciprocation like i used to think. it's vision.

and i am glad you could almost never take away my vision. and love is in all the places you forgot to look at, and all the places you remembered to. maybe love is not inside me and i am inside love, and my mother is tugging at my sleeves and pushing me to look at the photograph she received of me before she went through the labor of giving birth to me. and she says i look like her before placing her lips at the top of my forehead (she looks like the last person to like herself). and she is placing a photograph into my palms of my father holding me almost too tender and i realise i am not so damaged - after losing you. maybe he has always held me this tender, even when he makes me cry. and i despise cruelty, but i see mother laughing her flesh out - heartily - looking at the old sd card she looks almost too happy about finding while cleaning the house. look.

sd card. no memory of you. and i almost feel blind.

[faeratil]

A-Qing “Little Blind”

The Untamed

Please don’t repost

Reblogs appreciated ❤️

[halfsixwakeup]

Edit: The two updated versions got lost in the reblogs, and people keep asking for characters, so I'm editing the original post now.

Also, after playing In Stars and Time, I have realised Siffrin isn't really voiceless in the way I meant, and people have said Six and especially Mono shouldn't count, but consider: it's my gender and I get to choose the blorbo

[companionquest]

Top Ten Cullen Rutherford Blunders

[blood-sand-supernova]

This came to me five seconds before I fell asleep. Now I cast EMOTIONAL DAMAGE.

Also:

Imagine being normal

[somnoir]

Prodigal son beyond Time - part 2

Part 1 | Masterpost

Damian first met his great uncle Danyal when he is three years old. His mother says he's met him long ago, when he was but a babe with a memory too fuzzy to remember. But the man before him is his grandfather's favorite child. The son that scowls at his father as he cradled Damian in his arms.

"What have you done?" His uncle scowled, a gentle hand pressed against the back of Damian's head. "He's a child!"

"Danyal!"

"You weren't like this with me." Danyal spat, keeping Damian in his arms and pressing his lips towards his nephew's forehead. Damian notes how cold his uncle's skin felt like, but more welcoming than that of his grandfather's.

"Danyal, he is to be trained like a proper Al Ghul." Grandfather said, frowning at Danyal.

"You trained me like a proper Al Ghul when I was older than him!" Danyal immediately protested, "He's three!"

"Danyal—"

"Ukht, I understand that you wish the best for your son but this is not it." Danyal immediately said, looking apologetic for interrupting Talia, but went back to glaring at Ra's. "I've tried to tolerate the fact that you handle an assassin league, father but this? You taught me to be loyal to the family. You taught me to cherish the family, you're blood—why the fuck aren't you giving the others the same treatment you gave me?!"

"Because they are not you!"

Damian doesn't recall what truly happened that day, but he does remember how his uncle's eyes went from soft blues to the same shade that the Lazarus pits glowed.

Damian remembers everything going dark.

Damian grows up differently.

He continues on his training, but everything is kinder to him. The world is kinder when his uncle is home, having tea with grandfather and overseeing his training. Mother loves him and uncle Danyal the most, claiming that they are blessings to her life.

Grandfather is quieter nowadays, almost docile with his uncle around.

It's a little more peaceful. The assassin's continue to train, to fight. But their reign of terror fall upon those that are corrupt and destroying the world. It's one of the compromises uncle Danyal and grandfather have led too.

Damian grows up differently.

Damian's arrival to the Bats' lives was unprecedented and quite confusing. He was a child raised by assassins, a child raised to become the next leader of the league. But he was... Strange. Strange for that kind of standard. 

Damian was rather sociable, hostile but not downright murderous towards them. 

His uncle did make sure that he had friends in the league.

Ra's had been utterly ecstatic to find out that he had two more grandchildren while Talia was quite pleased to know that she had a niece and nephew. 

Damian had a pair of strange cousins who snuck him out of training to go watch the stars, often getting them scolded, but it was worth it. Dante was older than Damian by five years. He was what other would call an angsty teen with how he often rebelled against his father. Meanwhile, Janelle—preferebly Ellie—was only a year older than Damian himself. She was a mischievous person who made sure that everything around her was swallowed by her own chaos. So when he entered the manor, suddenly struck with the reality that he had multiple siblings instead of just one elder brother, Damian knew what to do. 

Murder was not the answer. 

But by the words of his gracious uncle and the wisdom of his excellent cousins: fight your siblings like a feral child but defend them by being even worse to others. 

So Damian's first act as Dick Grayson's younger brother was to bite him. 

The undead were restless, rising from their graves or haunting their own corpses. It wasn't something they usually dealt with, forced to call upon magicians. 

But even Constantine was bewildered by just how cursed Gotham's lands were. To bring back the dead. Jason was a miracle but this was like an abomination, a literal zombie. 

No one really knew how to properly deal with the dead...

Well...

"My uncle would be willing to provide his assistance in this matter." Damian piped up, examining the contained zombies from a safe distance. All eyes were quickly drawn to him, bewildered and questioning. 

"I hardly think that Dusan would be suitable for this." Bruce sighed. 

Damian scowled, "Not him. My grandfather's first-born is whom I speak off. He is knowledgeable in the occult arts of the dead." 

"Damian... Ra's Al Ghul only has one son." 

"Untrue. Grandfather's greatest pride was always my uncle. He is precious to grandfather and ensures that no one knows much off him. I expected you and Drake to be aware of the first born." 

Tim stiffened, "They weren't rumours?! Ra's actually has some cryptid son?" 

Bruce, who had heard of the old tales of the Demon head's beloved heir, had always thought they were stories to scare the assassins. He's never seen the man, nor has he found any evidence of him in the league. 

Jason finally started paying attention, "So the league's golden boy can help? Dami, I don't think Al Ghul will even let his favorite kid anywhere near us." 

"You underestimate my uncle's love for me."

"You met him?" Bruce quickly interjected. 

Jason shrugged, "He helped me out back then. Patched me up when the pit madness got worse and helped me manage it. But his face was usually covered and no one really knew his name."

"Aside from myself, grandfather, and my mother." 

Bruce frowned, "Nyssa and Dusan don't know their brother's name?" 

"Grandfather says that they do not have the privilege of knowing his name. Mother was the first of his other children to have met my uncle."

"And what about you? You won't give us his name?" 

Damian scowled, feeling rather displeased with his father's choice of words. "Names are powerful, father. My uncle taught me this when I was young." 

Constantine narrowed his eyes, "You're uncle some kind of fae, kid?" 

"Watch your mouth, hellblazer. He does not like you." Damian hissed, having heard all his uncle's rants about the Laughing Magician, especially whenever he'd just randomly pick up Talia and walk around Nanda Parbat like she was a kitten rather than a deadly assassin. "But I shall call upon my great uncle and ask him for assistance. This matter with the undead shall surely pique his interest."

"Tell the old man I said hi!" Jason cheerfully added, sounding quite pleased to hear about the mysterious uncle. 

"No." Damian blatantly denied. As much as he loves Todd (and he will never admit that), he was not going to let anyone threaten his status as his uncle's favorite child. Over his dead body. 

Damian was quick to walk away from all of them, quickly retrieving all the materials he'd need to summon his uncle. Dark green paint for the summing circle, five candles, and an astrology book. 

"Bats... Why the hell is your son performing a summoning ritual? For a ghost of the realms too." Constantine's tone was strained, clearly disturbed and wary of Damian's actions. 

"Damian." Bruce warned but Damian just waved him off. He watched as Jason started lighting up the candles, humming an unfamiliar tune. 

"D'you think the old man will help us?" 

"Of course! Uncle adores me." 

"You think he'll give me his name?"

"I will gut you, Todd." Damian immediately responded with the most nonchalant tone he could ever give. 

Jason shrugged, before taking a step back. 

"Damian! Whatever you're summoning—" 

"I'm summoning my uncle, father. He's the best person to go to with these issues." Damian insisted, before muttering something unintelligible under his breath.

Bruce was startled when Constantine grabbed him, eyes wide and rapidly turning pale. "Why the hell does your son know how to speak the language of the—"

Fire burst forth from the circle, slowly morphing into an icy blast. 

"Dead." Constantine's breath hitched, "Holy shit, your brat just summoned the ghost king." 

Bruce grabbed Damian the moment a hand emerged from the blast of cold. He shoved his on behind him, suddenly feeling frightened as his entire body felt goosebumps. Fuck. Did Damian really just perform a summoning ritual for such a powerful being? He never expected for Ra's to brainwash his son into believing that such a powerful thing—

"Nephew!" 

Bruce blinked, suddenly blinded by the light. 

"Uncle!" Damian escaped from his grasp, rushing into the circle. Constantine practically screamed once Damian ran into the arms of what was supposedly his uncle and the ghost king. 

In front of Bruce was the most gorgeous man he's ever met. 

The floating hair that reminded him of snow and the green eyes that were purer than the Lazarus pits. He couldn't help but swallow thickly, blinking. Damian was held up by the ghost king, allowing the boy to nuzzle into the crook of his neck. 

"Hello, dami (my blood)." The king cooed, his pronunciation of the nickname much different from the shortened version of Damian's name. "I was not expecting you to call me. What's happened, my dear?" 

Damian hummed, but before he could speak, he was immediately interrupted.

"Long time no see, old man!" Jason yelled, waving his arm as if he wasn't in the same room as the king. 

"Jason! Hello! How are you? The corrupted ecto hasn't returned, has it? If it has, just tell me. I'll schedule a check up with Frostbite." The king quickly fussed, not minding the way Damian was baring his teeth at Jason. "Damian, behave!" 

Damian just seemed to whine, refusing to behave and opting to pestering the king. 

"I'm good, uncle. Haven't gone out crazy since you took me to the doctor." Jason smiled, already ripping of his domino mask to show that his eyes were green tinged with blue, not glowing green like the pits. 

"Good, good. But I really must know why I've been called." The king softly said, directing his words to Damian who was already trying to wriggle our his grasp. Gently, the king settled Damian back on his feet. 

"Right. Uncle, my father, Batman. Father, this is my uncle." Damian introduced, his tone hurried and a bit hesitant. 

The king, Damian's uncle, smiled at Bruce. "Hello there, Mr. Wayne. I've wanted to meet you for a long time." The king hummed, "My name's Danny, but the Al Ghuls call me Danyal." 

"Uncle!" 

"Hush, hush, Damian. I can give my name to anyone I want. I don't suppose that your father is worthy of it."

Bruce really should be more concerned about the fact that the king knew his name. 

"But what of the others?" 

"Little one, I sent Nyssa and Dusan letters ages ago. But rest assured, dearest Talia is still the first to earn it." Danny—Danyal—the ghost king softly spoke and patted Damian's head. "And... Oh, it's you."

"Your majesty!" Constantine enthusiastically greeted while Danny scowled. 

"Tax evading bastard." Danny huffed, shaking his head before promptly ignoring the tax evading bastard in question. 

"Damian." 

"The dead are rising."

Danny blinked, blinked again, before he groaned and shook his head. 

"Okay, sorry. That seemed to be caused by an error on my side. Some prisoners of my realms started a riot and some of them managed to break out. Some have most likely decided to overshadow their old bodies." Danny sighed, "I'll have this taken care of. Apologies for the inconveniences."

"These... Zombies have been wrecking havoc across my city." Bruce frowned, "They've been harming people."

"Vengeful spirits do that. They're criminals meant to be in prison. It's rare for breakouts to happen, in all honesty." Danny paused, just long enough to run his fingers through Damian's hair. "But if you wish to take charge, by all means. These are corpses being possessed by their own spirits and... Well... They're out of their minds. Not really considered revenants since the possession isn't quite permanent." 

"Alright, Bats. We've gotta make a proper deal here. His Majesty was summoned so we've gotta offer him something—" 

"That's not necessary." Danny immediately waved Constantine away, evident displeasure from the man. "The sigil I gave Damian was just to call me to him. No need for an exchange."

"Seriously?" Constantine blurted out. 

Danny just shrugged, "He's family. And my favorite nephew." 

Damian smirked, absolutely smug. "I am your only nephew, uncle."

"Mm... Jason's also my nephew." Danny chuckled softly, easily stepping out of the circle and removing it from the floor—leaving not a single stain. "Now... Shall we deal with the dead?" 

Bruce Wayne has made many bad decisions in his life, especially when it came to his relationships. Damian's ghost king of an uncle might be one of them.

Masterpost

[zorangezest]

thanks for listening

[molinaesque]

"He dips out... the whole world flips over."

[katherine-smith-xo]

i think it’s important to spread awareness of flawed scientific practices. date your lineage findings, people! this is how mistakes are made

[gabrielokun]

[jojo-schmo]

In this house, we cherish Helpy. We thank him for his hard work and pat his head and give him all the candy that he wants because is a good and lovable little cub!!

[homkamiro]

HEY DID YOU KNOW YOUR ART IS EXCELLENT AND YOUR LINEWORK IS STUNNING AND YOUR EXPRESSIONS ARE PEAK

HELLO??? AM I REAL IS THIS REAL??? THETRIGGEREDHAPPY IN MY ASK???????? I💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

dude i am SUCH a fan of your works you have NO idea, like I think if I hadn't read running blind that day i wouldn't be so fixated on speeding bullet right now. I reread nearly ALL of your fanfictions and I recommend you to every one of my friends. And seeing you here praising my art is just😭💥i need a minute

In a gratitude making a small comic based on that one moment from Little Things🗣️🗣️your dialogue writing is one of the best I've seen in YEARS and ngl I do plan someday making an animatic based on one of your fics perhaps...someday....and only if you're okay with that.....

[tsarjozinzbazin]

Snow blindness

[potato-lord-but-not]

obligatory Oscar post 🫶🫶