A Brothers Reunion
The small summoning circle lit up, casting a soft green glow, as two eyes watched it with weary hope.
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Two demons argued violently about a soul, and Danny sighed from his spot on the throne that fully claimed him a month ago. While he still found it hilarious how thoroughly this guy managed to swindle so many of the high ranking demons, it had started to cross into annoying territory. Danny was seriously considering making a whole office dedicated specifically to hold all the paperwork one ‘John Constantine’ was seemingly generating with his very presence. Suddenly, Danny felt a soft tug on his core, much gentler then the summoning rituals of all those crazy cultists that keep popping out of nowhere used. More like the circles he gave to Sam Tucker or Jazz. But he could feel the summoner’s emotions, and the poor guy on the other end felt like he was about to cry.
Danny mentally went through everyone he’s given his personal line to. Then, he shot up and called for Fright Knight to send the demons away while Danny quickly allowed himself to be pulled through the summoning circle to where his brother waited anxiously.
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The circle flared, and a large eldrich like figure quickly crawled through. Then, a very familiar voice muttered
“Man I wish these things weren’t so dramatic. I already scared the shit out of the justice league because of it” as the being’s form shifted to the more familiar form he took when seeing Damian for the first time in a decade. His white hair looked a little longer now, and his eyes a less toxic green.
“Danyal” Damian said stiffly. Danny looked up, making eye contact with Damian before responding
“Damian” in response Damian lunged, pressing a blade to Danny’s neck before asking a question only Danny could answer.
“What’s the last story you told me?” Danny simply smiled nostalgically,
“There’s the Damian I know. I told you about Canis Minor 16 days before I died the first time.” Damian heasitated before putting away his weapon and paused before he quickly started to hug Danny, who returned the hug.
“… first time?” Damian asked, still in Danny’s arms.
“Mother didn’t tell you what happened to me after, did she?” Danny asked into his twins hair. Damian didn’t even bother to say anything and just turned his head to look at Danny balefully, before Danny sighed and said
“Of course she didn’t. I was dunked into the Lazarus pits, before mother dropped me off in the middle of nowhere America, where she forbade me from ever talking about my old life or ever attempting to contact you.” Damian paused to process this, before saying
“And the second time?” Danny sighed at that, his face set into a grimace. Damian started to move, bringing Danyal over to his bed, where Danny realized Damian had summoned Danny in his room. Damian sat them both onto his bed, and curled further into Danny’s arms, while gesturing to continue.
“I was adopted by a couple who claimed to be ‘ectobiologists’ who already had an older daughter named Jazz. She’s my sister.” Damian nodded solemnly at that, mentally adding ‘Jazz’ to his list of siblings. Danny pulled out his brick of a phone and started showing Damian pictures of his adoptive parents, his sister and everything else as he spoke about it. “They’d been working on a project in their lab since before they adopted me, longer then they’re had Jazz even. When I was fourteen, they finally tried to turn it on. It failed. It was a portal to what they called ‘The Ghost Zone’, but that realm is much more. The Infinite Realms are the glue that holds all universes together, and its a kind of afterlife. They didn’t know half of that, only that some souls of humans who died stay there, and even then, they thought that these ghosts were only a husk of their former selves, and couldn’t feel pain.” Damian started to connect the dots at that and asked
“You’re one of these ghosts?” It was almost a statement, but Damian wasn’t going to make many assumptions. Danny nodded before continuing
“I had two friends who convinced me to show them the failed portal. I walked inside of the portal we assumed was completely defunct, and I tripped over one of the many wires on the floor. When I tried to stabilize myself, I hit the on button.” Damian’s eyes widened, and he froze while Danny paused. After a moment, Danny continued, saying “My adoptive parents had connected the portal to the towns power grid, and the portal opened up on top of me. Electricity and ectoplasm, what ghosts and the Infinite Realms are made of, clashed inside my body, killing me and reviving me repeatedly until the portal finally spit me back out. I only half died that day.” Danny put his phone away and focused on playing with Damian’s hair. Damian reveled in his brothers affectionate touch like when they were small.
“Half?” Damian asks after a minute or two.
“Half. I technically have several ghost forms, and I have a human form” Damian looked up from Danyal’s arms, his eyes asking the obvious question he was a little afraid to ask, though he’d never admit it. Danny smiled at the unasked question, and rings of light formed around him, before dissipating and revealing a very much alive eighteen year old Danyal Nightingale. He grabbed one of Damian’s hands and pressed it against his neck, allowing Damian to revel in feeling his former dead brother’s pulse. Damian tested Danny’s wrist, and put his ear against Danny’s now warm chest.
Damian will deny the appearance of tears to his death, but Danny didn’t say anything, he just held Damian closer. After a while Danyal started to talk about the stars. Filling the silence with quiet but passionate rambling about stars and space. It was familiar. It was safe and warm and then Richard ruined the moment by slamming open Damian’s door yelling about a ‘Family Game Night’ and got a knife for his troubles. Of course he dodged with practiced ease, but then he realized Damian wasn’t alone in his room. Time seemed to freeze at the stand off. Dick had frozen, as the joy on his face seemed to leach away at the realization that there was an intruder.
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MMIW as a slogan for a movement to get justice for its titled victims doesnt even put a particular blame on any one person or group, it's an all encompassing slogan to talk about particularly Native women who have gone missing or been murdered due to Native targeted racism/misogyny. It could be for any reason, under any circumstance.
So the fact that whoever made these bots to spam the mmiw tags with posts about how mmiw is a "hoax" by the Canadian government & Royal family, and how these posts always add in a quip about how police and oil workers "aren't to blame" tells you something about what kind of person is behind it.
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I have so far avoided talking about this publicly because I don't care for airing drama, but today I was shown something that has crossed the line so hard that I can't keep ignoring this weird one-sided feud any longer.
@elfinismsarts, you need to stop.
It's really weird that literally a year and a half after we last interacted you're still holding onto this bizarre idea that every comment or anon you don't like comes from me/my friends, and that I'm spearheading some kind of targeted harassment campaign against you. It's sad that I know you won't believe me when I say I'm not and never have, and that nearly a full year on from your callout post about me, I have much, much better ways to spend my time and energy.
I'm in my thirties. I don't have 'enemies'. I honestly find it a bit embarrassing and juvenile that you do, and that based on your reddit account you're still posting literally every few days about these 'enemies' who--I repeat--haven't interacted with you since 2021.
Until now I was willing to just roll my eyes and ignore it. But I can't ignore that you apparently think it's completely fine and normal to track down my irl socials, identity, habits and family and then post about it publicly with thinly veiled allusions to what you could do with that information if you had malicious intent.
Grow up and go away; it's going to be incredibly sad to have to address this again in another eighteen months otherwise. And if you can't do that, my boyfriend says you could at least buy his album.
Evidence that OP of the screenshot is @/elfinismsarts under the cut.
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⏤ BEFORE & AFTER COLORING CHALLENGE
i was tagged by @strayz and @hoeranghaee, thank you both 💖
all the original colorings are in the circles. as you can see i don’t really have any sort of consistent coloring style hjdkjfshj it mostly depends on the video! i don’t have base psds or anything like that, but i do mostly gravitate towards some core elements: deepening blacks (and more often than not making them soft or “matte”), trying to strike a skin tone balance that is lively, not washed out, but not too pink or too yellow, and getting rid of cyans (but again the last gif clearly has cyan in it so i guess it just depends how i’m feeling that day 😶🌫️)
my favorite layers are selective color, curves, and hue/saturation, sometimes i’ll use color balance and levels, and on rare occasions i’ll throw a vibrance or contrast layer in there! i love experimenting and learning new things about coloring and i’m consistently inspired by the ccs on here, you are all wizards ♡
i think most people have already done it but i am going to tag @seo-changbinnies @hyunebear @hanjisungz @bangzchan @agibbangs @yonglixx if you already did it and i missed it please send it over to me, i would love to see!! 🥰
here are the original posts:
3racha track unveil
case 143 backstage
felix at btob kiss the radio
han studio choom
chill mv
give me your tmi mv
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It's hilariously therapeutic to watch Cutthroat Kitchen because a lot of the time, when a man loses, he has the funniest little reaction.
Like even if the judge was very clear and explicit about why he got voted off, he'll be like "I thought my dish was great. I shouldn't have been voted off. I deserved to win, because I'm a good chef no matter what the judge said." (When they've done things like serve uncooked meat or used a plain century egg as garnish)
Like goddamn, people are surviving just fine, without constantly being upset with themselves for small mistakes? They can even ignore huge mistakes and chose to believe they are perfect, and apparently this has been a successful survival technique for them because they're still alive.
So maybe I can forgive myself for small things. Maybe I can be nice to myself about it. Apparently I could even lie to myself about it and pretend it wasnt a big deal or wasnt my fault I'd probably be fine--so it's probably okay if I let some cereal expire, and if I can't fend off the guilt and self-loathing about it, then its a valid option to just say "well its the cereal's fault for expiring" or something silly to escape the pointless unbearable guilt.
Like I don't plan to do that for meaningful mistakes, but why not resort to Overconfident Man Confidence to dodge debilitating shame over throwing away a single paper bag that I've been reusing for months and it's finally beyond use but I feel like I'm wasting resources and should fix it? My guilt and shame aren't playing fair or logical so I am allowed to use sneaky tricks like "borrowing confidence from a man raised to believe he is never wrong" to fight back lol.
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