#his nose broke

[bet-on-me-13]

So, due to a villainous plot, basically the entirety of the Justice League and all affiliated Heroes are stuck on the Watchtower when it is forcibly transported to a different Universe.

My idea is that an army of different Supervillains tricked every Hero they could onto the Watchtower, before using experimental technology to transport them to another Universe.

While the JL is stuck in another Universe, the Villains take this chance to take over as much of the world as possible

Meanwhile, the JL is stuck.

All of their Teleportation tech was sabotaged and/or destroyed (not that it would have been capable of transporting them across universes either way), and any magical ways of Universal Travel strong enough to transport the Entire Watchtower would require weeks of Preparation and Set-Up.

They consider sending just a few of their Heavy Hitters back alone, since the smaller level spells could be done fairly quickly, but they also know that there is a very real possibility that there is a trap waiting on the other side. They deem it too risky to try

Eventually, Constantine pipes up, “How about asking The King of the Infinite Realms?”

Zatanna replies, “Phantom? Well it could work, but we don’t have much information on him, we don’t know if he is trustworthy”

“Who is Phantom?” asks Batman

“Phantom is the King of the Infinite Realms, basically the space between Dimensions. He is also the God of Space, so he could definitely transport the entire Watchtower across Universes.”

“The Infinite Realms are also called the Ghost Zone, because it is technically one of the Afterlives you could end up in. All Souls traverse the Realms while heading to their respective Afterlives, but some stay behind and become Ectoplasmic Entities, or Ghosts”

“Why hesitate to ask him then?”

“We don’t know if he is trustworthy. The last King was named Pariah Dark, and he took advantage of his power of traversing Universes to try and conquer all of Reality.”

Eventually, they decide to summon Phantom, and he appears in the center of the Summoning Circle. He looks majestic, and his eyes are closed.

He shifts a bit, tilts forward, and falls flat on his face while snoring.

They summoned him while he was asleep.

Eventually after Danny  wakes up, they manage to make a deal with him to send them back in return for letting him live on the watchtower for his annual vacation

[forestshadow-wolf]

His leg buckled, and the ground met him hard at the knees, but he didn't feel it. Couldn't feel it. Couldn't feel anything but fucking agony.

Ghost was dying; he could feel it in his heart. Literally. He could feel the soulbond unraveling. Out and away and away and away. Like plucking a live chicken, except he was the bird not the butcher. It was an anguish all too familiar. Only last time was like ripping his flesh open with rose thorns over and over again to pain the petals red, and this time felt like stitching open a wound to leave it weeping blood and guts and fluids and infection. This time it felt like festering evil.

"WHERE IS HE!" He roared, snapping at the hands on him, grabbing at others to haul himself to his feet again. His knee went weak again, but he would not let his limbs fail him. Fail Ghost. "GET OFF ME!" He did not wipe out an entire enemy outpost, only to be stopped by his own allies, while the very thing keeping him alive dies.

Some barking command that he didn't hear from outside his tunnel of vision had the burning touches release him. He obeyed a command that he didn't discern out of forced submission. The rabid thing rearing it's ugly face recognizing authority in the face of anger.

He wasn't sane as he stalked through the halls, following a faceless form he knew but didn't recognize. It's didn't matter. Nothing much but the decade old pain twisting where his heart should be mattered. None of it mattered because Ghost was dying.

He was dying while he loved.

Because some unlucky tosser touched what was his, and now Ghost was dying with fire as blood, as he unraveled Soap's heart. And Soap could feel every bit of it. The pain and agony of losing a soulbond. Again.

He knew the fire burning Ghost alive. I made the vial in his possession feel that much heavier. He carried the world in his pocket. It was smaller than his littlest finger, and it fit in his hand like he was meant to crush it. And it would save his life.

It would save Ghost's life.

He doesn't remember the walk to bring him to Ghost. Only flashes of anger where he snapped at too many hands.

But then he's there. Surrounded by white walls, and a white cot. Staring at a bloodied man in a dirty kit and black mask. Untouched on the command of an even less sane, more rabid him, only 27 hours ago.

He doesn't know who came and who left. Only remembers him, and his body, and the little glass vial, and Ghost. He remembers the chilled, damp skin when he pulled fabric back to reveal too pale skin underneath. He remembers how the needle went in easily. He doesn't move after that. Someone takes the needle from him. He felt it. Didn't see it. Saw only Ghost.

He just. Stood there. Watching. But not looking. Not seeing. He couldn't think. Couldn't move. Didn't dare hope. Couldn't pray. Couldn't beg. Pure catatonia. Nobody moved him. Nobody touched him. He heard people talking. Maybe to him. Maybe not. He doesn't know.

He doesn't remember how long it was. Maybe that night. Maybe that day too. But he remembers what brought him back.

He remembers the chest rhythm change. Something not just a natural sigh. Something deeper. Rousing. And the way Ghost's eyes flicked behind his eyelids for what felt like hours before they opened. Ghost was awake. He was alive.

And it's only then that he realizes that the agony had drained from his veins. The thread around his heart rewound. And it's then that exertion takes him. He falls to his knees hard. Ghost is quick on the call button with panic. But Soap doesn't make it 'til a nurse rushes in before black invades the rest of his vision like a shot to the skull

It couldn't have been more than half a minute before he comes too. It's bright, and there are hands touching him and voices speaking over his head and it's all too much.

"Where is he?" He swats at the abrasive touches, "Ghost. He's awake." Everything hurts. His muscles, his bones, even his teeth. But it's of small importance.

"Easy, Sunshine." A gruff voice pulls everything back into perspective. Price. Crouched at his thigh with a worried look on his face. Soap presses himself up despite protests from the nurses. "He's fine, lad." Price cups the back of his neck, "you made it in time. You saved him." He says it like a prayer. Like he knows it's the only thing that'll keep the rabid thing leashed. And he might be right.

[emolionsrawr]

nurse: so, mr kinard, what brings you here today?

tommy: i broke my nose

nurse: and how did you break your nose?

buck: *blushes hard* don't, don't say it

tommy: baby the nurse asked, i have to tell her

nurse:

buck:

tommy: my boyfriends caked up ass broke my nose

buck: *blushes harder* TOMMY!

nurse: *coughs* i'll just, uh, write down sexual injury

buck: *hides his face in his hands and screams*

nurse: sir? are you okay?

tommy: *laughs*

[lonestardust]

"Welcome Home TK."

[bonefall]

OMG intersex Moonpaw with a cleft lip???

I just used it as an example because cleft lips and palates are a really good example of the quirks of bilateral symmetry, BUT I do actually have a cleft lip in BB LMAO

It's Lizardstripe because she got a glow up in BB, is one of the smartest and most competent background characters in the rewrite, and has an expanded friendship with both Bluestar and Yellowfang. I gave her a cleft lip because unironically it is such a cool feature and it deserves a million examples of positivity.

Her son Deerfoot also got it, he also got a glowup as a TigerClan rebel.

I should give it to more cats honestly... and more lip features in general. I love you people whose lips naturally curl above the teeth. I love you people with cleft lips, both severe and minor. I love you people who have had mouth surgery and have visible scars.

[marenwithanm]

I was playing wind waker earlier and I was swarmed by like 5 sharks that knocked me off my boat, which made me think of how bad a situation that would be in a narrative instead of a game lol. So here's some Link getting injured

[gravityfalls4life]

Dipper. I think in the future you will break your nose when you are 17. Fr, not lying.

(this is supposed to be a joke, I hope the mod isn't sensitive to this or anything like that... :/ )

What.

Why would I-

Hey Mabel, do you think I'm gonna be able to go to college someday?

A nerd like you for SURE would!

*notices glass door* *doesn't tell Dipper*

Why do you ask? *snicker*

I- I don't know.. I just feel like-

*THUD*

AUUUUG-

*LMAO*

[ovaryacted]

Why does nobody want to talk about Game! Joel Miller’s nose scar? Can we please start talking about Game! Joel Miller’s nose scar? I desperately want to talk about Joel Miller’s fucking nose scar. It’s the sexiest thing ever. Begging to be kissed. PLEAKKKK.

[ultraviolet-ink]

Diversity Win: The Burglars are Gay Lovers!

I've been messing around and I've created how I see both Raffles and Bunny while I read the stories! I really wanted to experiment with different shapes, and I think it really came together!! :D I've been messing around and I've created how I see both Raffles and Bunny while I read the stories! I really wanted to experiment with different shapes, and I think it really came together!! :D I absolutely love how Raffles came out, he really does have this sort of mischievous energy around him, and Bunny's eyes are so wonderful!! Whatever you say princess!! <3 The mini comic is actually a reference to the 1977 series! It's very good, I highly recommend it!! I'm always down to infodump about them, so if you're ever interested, please feel free to send an ask! :D

[andy-clutterbuck]

EW 2018

[potatopassenger]

Usopp standing up for Luffy's dream

[teatitty]

Aizawa is so good at dodging Mic's wild gesturing even while mummified because the one time Hizashi accidentally smacked him in the mouth in their UA days he took it as a personal challenge to get better reflexes and demanded Hizashi keep doing it until he could effortlessly dodge all of them

Oboro judged him severely for having the weirdest gay flirting he'd ever seen in his life

[catscidr]

// aquarium (i want you dead or alive) //  

i. note — hihihi enjoy this short thing i did as a warmup to get my brain juices flowing _(:3」∠)_ this was inspired by aquarium from funny boy matt watson (its a good song trust)…..heard the chorus n went "wow this sure does remind me of someone" ii. includes — modern au akademiya (university) student dottore, gn!reader  iii. cw — stalking and yandere tendencies, obsession, smoking, blood, homicidal thoughts. no dialogue; just dottore nd his thoughts. also not quite proofread ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ iv. wc — 1k -> now also on ao3 (b˙◁˙ )b

It’s hard to ignore things when your brain is so hellbent on making you notice. 

Forcing your eyes to flit over every single inch of a room you walk in, making your legs carry you towards something that, unconsciously, caught your attention because they just happened to remind you of something. 

When it’s curiosity driven it isn’t too bad, since the worst that can happen is a slight pang of disappointment when your curiosity isn’t sated from your inquisition.

It’s an entirely different problem when the urge to look for something specific is caused by a deep-rooted obsession with something. 

Someone. 

And it’s even worse when you see things in places where they simply are not. 

Walking out of the Akademiya to seek shelter at the dingy bus stop the city can’t bother fixing, catching a glimpse of the poster on the side of it. A model posing with a bottle of perfume stares back, the advertisement almost mocking him as he stops walking shy of being under the bus stop’s roof. 

Its face morphs into one he’s all too familiar with instead of being a stranger’s, and his mouth inhales more air than it needs to. 

Stepping into the squalid convenience store near his flat to grab an energy drink and a pack of cigarettes, wordlessly paying for the items until the cashier says ‘have a nice evening’ in a tired, unenthusiastic tone. Hands faltering for a millisecond as he awkwardly grabs what he purchased, immediately taking out and lighting up a dart to exhale the agitation simmering inside his gut. 

The pitch of their voice was uncannily close to yours. 

Slamming his apartment door shut and kicking his shoes off, dragging himself into his room to make good use of the energy drink he just bought. Opening his laptop only to be met with the sight of sanguine boring into the screen before it dissipates and the screen lights up, displaying his hard work. 

Curtains drawn at all hours of the day, his bedroom was no stranger to gloom. Though void of any natural luminescence, multiple copies of your face smile back at him. 

He exhales smoke through his nose, tapping the excess ash forming at the tip of his cigarette into a tray and takes a sip of his drink, never blinking. 

... 

To him, not having any classes together didn’t matter at all. Didn’t even make a single difference. 

None. 

Because sitting in the same lecture hall as you wouldn’t matter or change a thing, since he would be just as far away in that hypothetical than if he were in a different class.  

Which he is. 

His grades are high enough that he can afford to ditch his class to loiter in the vicinity of your classroom instead. You don’t speak much, but he doesn’t particularly care since it allows him to listen. To memorize the sound of your chair screeching as quietly as it can behind you, memorize your tendency to be one of the first people to leave the class in order to rush to your next one. 

Memorize how you fail to take notice of your surroundings on days like these where you have a class right after the other, as he watches your legs work overtime to carry you to the other side of the building to make it in time. 

It lets him think, undisturbed. 

... 

He never musters up the courage to speak to you. You only spoke because he was careless and accidentally made himself noticeable in the sea of students one too many times, and he apparently looked so out of place that you sparked up a conversation with him despite not being the type to reach out first. 

Maybe God was playing with him by making you do something he hadn’t predicted. The conversation itself was brief, but long enough for him to want to talk to you again. 

And for you to want to talk to him again, too. 

...And talk to you again he does when you spot his minty bedhead in the library and sit across from him, making his poor heart leap out of his chest, bringing one hand down to close his laptop screen a little too harshly. Bile rose in his throat; too engrossed in his research, he hadn’t heard you approach him at all. A fault he’ll have to rectify later. 

After you apologize in his stead to the students that gave you both a side-eye for making noise, God how he wants to pluck each and every single one of their eyes out, you take out your own laptop from your bag and open it up to get to work alongside him. 

He tries to keep his mind at bay for now, wanting to enjoy his impromptu date with you. 

... 

Washing blood off his clothes has always been a hassle, especially considering how he had to walk to the laundromat to do so. He somehow always has a stain somewhere on his person, whether it’s from accidentally hurting himself or from his proneness to getting nosebleeds. 

Or other reasons. 

Standing over the sink, he watches the liquid drip from his nose down to the porcelain basin. Observing the pattern it makes as it slides down the drain, watching the vibrant red turn into slithers of watery vermillion. He clutches the edges of the sink tightly, letting himself fantasize about assaulting the students from a few hours ago. Cleaning their blood off of his shirt, then watching his clothes tumble in the washing machine in the laundromat. 

Now that he was alone, he shuts his eyes and sighs. He refused to let himself think anything less than pure thoughts around you lest you somehow gain the ability to read minds and decide to read his, if they could even be called that. 

They were more akin to promises than anything else. 

Opening his eyes, he’s met with more red than white, his nose’s blood having taken up more surface area than the sink itself. Some had even gotten on his previously pristine collar. 

Zandik glances up, staring at his stained button-up in the mirror. 

Maybe he wouldn’t wash your blood off of his clothes. 

[rosekillersums]

If yall into this headcanon I'm sorry, you do you but I hate open relationship& 'oh its okay if you flirt or dance with someone else in the end of the day I know you are mine' kinda rosekiller...What do you mean they are not the most possessive couple in the Hogwarts?? What do you mean they both wouldn't do insane things when they are jealous??? Just thinking of them being possessive&jealous of each other makes me feral!!!!

[the-doodle-cave]

hey, first thing nice art second thing

[punts cloud peanut}

Ouch

[ludagubi]

Please be gentle with them