#escaping shit

[strawberry-rose80]

I don’t know what to post anymore

[crabussy]

slightly furious reminder that fish do in fact feel pain and do in fact experience fear and distress when in pain since people seem to love spreading the myth that fish don't feel pain. what is it with people assuming a creature is incapable of feeling pain or emotion just because it doesn't have complex facial muscles. come on gang

[prlssprfctn]

Jason Todd should have dropped the UTRH plan and go pursue the acting career, instead. Confronting Batman? Easy and ineffective. Having your face plastered across the whole city, and intentionally picking up roles in remakes of your father's favourite movies? That is scary. That is haunting.

[keferon]

Don’t mind me I just like to see him go bananas about cartoonish Autobot rules

Maaan…..if Prowl was in tfp he would spontaneously combust at least once a day

[pangur-and-grim]

I might be a liiiittle too permissive

[bluismie]

Big bro out on a run (งツ)ว

Extra:

[thewaitingluna]

I’d like to disappear for a while. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I don’t want to know anything.

[sunlit-mess]

Hell's Greatest Dad(s)

[ontherunnt]

Price with a sleeptalking partner

pairing: John Price x reader

wc: 903

warnings: none

John Price had never been a heavy sleeper. 

While it was a part of himself that had been apparent to him since before his time in the military, it would be foolish to say it didn’t play an important role in it. He rarely got more than a couple of hours of sleep, which his body had adapted to over the years—not without putting up a fight, that is. 

He’d always struggled with the civvie life. Before you came into his life—a whirlwind of colour and a warmth he did not believe himself capable of deserving—he’d hated sleeping outside of the comfort of his quarters. His house was suffocating in its quiet loudness.

He had become acquaintances with the cat who rummaged through his trash at three in the morning, on the dot. He still woke up whenever the fridge clicked without explanation in the middle of the night—that sharp, sudden noise that had him shoving a hand under his pillow before he could even process the fact that he didn’t need to aim his gun at an electrical appliance. The electrical line that had been busted for almost three months, constantly emitting a loud but sharp buzzing noise, had pushed him to the edge. 

Then you’d come along. Quietly, sneakily—like mould. And, God help him, he’d never been more grateful for anything in his life. A toothbrush here, spare socks there, your things all over his house. What could only be described as a parasitic infestation had never felt better. 

Along with your banter over lunch and your tea in his cupboard, came your…peculiar nightly habits. 

He’d heard of sleeptalkers, of course. He was guilty of his own nonsensical mumbling late at night after a string of stressful ops. But what you did wasn’t mumble or whisper softly—it was borderline paranormal. 

The first night he got to witness it, you were jolted awake by the sudden weight laid over your neck. His forearm pressed against your neck, gone as fast as it had appeared. You blinked once in shock, unsure as to what the hell had happened and if you had imagined it in the first place. It’d been John, the following morning, who recalled the events for you.

“Thought someone had broken in,” he mumbled, and if you hadn’t known any better you would’ve sworn he was mad at you. “Scared the shit outta me, love.”

He acclimated—unwillingly. While his military instincts were hard to quiet down, he become almost fond of the late-night conversations and complete lunacy that came out of your mouth whenever midnight rolled around. 

That night, he was woken up by the sound of you arguing with someone who had quickly become Price’s number one nemesis. 

“Colonel Duck,” you whispered with a frown on your face. “This was discussed in the briefing.”

John woke the way he usually did once his body had learned to recognize your nightly conversations as non-threatening—groggily, slow, exhausted. He lay on his side, propping himself up on his elbow while his other hand rested above your stomach. Your shirt, caught in sheets and whatever else you had done to it through the night, lifted to reveal your cold skin. He flattened his palm over your stomach as he stiffened a yawn. 

Outside, only the sound of a nearby creek and crickets were carried by the wind. Inside, Price watched as your nose scrunched at whatever this colonel had dared say to you—a civilian whose only contact with the army was through whatever the man shared with you.

He dragged his palm closer to your waist, twisting you effortlessly so that your chest would be pressed against his. He nuzzled your neck, his beard scratching the sensitive skin in a way that earned a faint laugh from your otherwise serious façade. 

“John, do something,” you whined against his ear. “He won’t listen.”

Despite the exhaustion, he chuckled against your neck. He pressed a quick, albeit soft, kiss to your jaw before pulling away, feeling the tiredness that clung to his bones slowly bleed into his muscles. 

“M’afraid I can’t, love,” he whispered. “He’s a colonel.”

John’s smile widened at the sight of your pout—so genuine and upset he almost asked Laswell to dig through whatever archives needed to be dug to find this Colonel Duck who had plagued your dreams for the past two months. 

Your arm slid over his waist as you finally closed the distance between you. You muttered something he couldn’t hear, even in the silent room, before burying your nose in the crook of his neck. He chuckled—low and revibrating against your chest. 

“He’s drunk on power,” you mumbled with that voice he’d come to recognize as your finally going back to sleep voice. 

John laughed, then sighed at the feeling of your body going limp beneath him. He felt your hair against his chin and your breath against his skin. His fingers dug into your hip as his lips found your forehead. 

“We’ll report him,” he assured your sleeping form. 

He let his lips linger on your forehead for a beat longer before he let his head fall against the pillow again, arms safely wrapped around you. Your breathing evened, and he listened to it like a lull to fall asleep to. 

John Price had killed a general already. He’d take on a bloody colonel if needed. 

[kittykatninja321]

If Damian manages to one up both of his parents and all of his siblings by actually finishing school and becoming a doctor and rejecting both the Bat path and the League path I think that might be one of the best character development decisions ever

[thebubblesareevil]

Hunted

Dc x dp prompt

Clockwork can see every potential timeline and does his best to ensure the best possible future

That future required Danyal Al Ghul to become Danny Phantom.

So after Thalia had her twins, one of them vanished without a trace, no matter how the league searched, he was nowhere to be found.

Talia made sure Damian had the best of everything, made sure he was forged into the deadliest of warriors so no one could ever take him away from her.

But she never stopped searching.

When Danny left amity to go to college, he figured his biggest concern would be avoiding the ghosts of Gotham, not being hunted every night by a crazy ninja woman.

All he wanted to do was get his engineering degree and build spaceships!

He didn’t know what this lady wanted, but he sure as hell wasn’t gonna let it stop him.

Things finally came to a head when he was avoiding the ninja and ran into some rich kid. The boy sneered at him and told him to watch where he was going while his friend was freaking out.

“Will you shit up drake?! Shouldn’t you be in a board meeting right now?” He scowled.

Danny rolled his eyes as he tried to pick up his stuff and get away from the crazy lady hunting him.

“What the hell Damian?!? This guy is basically your clone and that’s how you react?”

Danny sneered, “are you joking? We look nothing alike!” He said, rolling his eyes. He saw the ninja lady approaching on the left. “Tch. Now I’m gonna be late for class, thanks.” He huffed and raced in the opposite direction of the ninja.

—-

Damian glared at his brother, “honestly drake, have all those concussions finally caught up to you?”

Tim just looked between him and the boy rapidly making his way across the campus in shock “Are you-“

“Damian!” Came the familiar voice of his mother “which way did he go?!?” She asked, frantically looking around.

“Who?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at his mother.

She froze when her eyes landed on the boy that just ran into him. “Your brother!” She rushed after the boy “I won’t lose him again!”

She said, leaving behind a shocked Damian and Tim as she vanished.

——

Somehow, Danny hadn’t expected things to get worse.

He should have known better.

Things ALWAYS got worse.

So now he was sneaking into his apartment at 2 am, trying to avoid not only the ninja lady, but also the entire bat clan!

When he finally made it back to his apartment he froze before his hand touched the door, sensing another person in his temporary haunt and sighing.

This was the third apartment in 2 weeks.

He turned around and vanished down the hall, leaving his key and a note in the leasing office.

He really wanted a nap.

——-

“Was it really necessary to not tell the young Phantom about his true origins?” Pandora asked clockwork as they watched him search for a new apartment.

“You are free to tell him any time you wish.” He said with a grin.

The watched as Spoiler face planted as she tried to tackle Danny before he walked through a wall. Searching frantically when she couldn’t find her quarry before stubbing her toe when she decided to vent her frustrations.

Pandora cleared her throat, “well…I don’t see the harm in the young king getting some extra evasion practice in.”

Clockwork smirked, holding out a bowl of glowing popcorn to the giantess. “Popcorn?”

[in-tua-deep]

There’s something very tragic in the way that not only was murderbot not allowed to establish ties to other secunits by virtue of being a rental unit, but also in the way that after going rogue other secunits, by no choice of their own, became the biggest threats to it

like,, there are so many points in the books where the way it talks about other secunits is. off. dismissive or not really talking about them as if they’re other people

and at the same time I get it. murderbot can’t treat other secunits as victims because that would get it killed so fast, because if it thought of them as people then how could it not reach out, or hesitate, or try to bend the rules in any way it could? and they’re other secunits - pattern recognition experts who, unlike humans, know exactly what will and will not activate a governor module. the moment murderbot softened towards them, the moment it hesitated, the other unit would pick that up and potentially expose it as a rogue unit. it wouldn’t even be the other secunit’s choice per se, but thanks to the gov module they wouldn’t have a choice on whether to reveal murderbot or not

and then after murderbot runs - how can you start thinking of them as other people and other victims when that makes you confront your own inaction, standing by and doing nothing when you are likely the only person at the table who is MAKING the choice to do nothing. it’s so much easier to justify doing nothing, not even trying to free the people around you, if you convince yourself that a rogue unit is way way too dangerous and would kill everyone around it and also the people you like (and ignoring the concrete fact that you didn’t become that when you went rogue) and isn’t even a person anyway

idk I think I’m just sad about the fact that murderbot says with its full chest that secunits don’t care about each other right up until three shows up and proves that wrong

Just the tragedy that three got to make and forge those relationships while murderbot not only had to go it alone but was in active danger at even the most benign interaction with other secunits as far as its memory goes

I wonder if pre-memory wipe murderbot had relationships with other secunits? I wonder what its opinions on other units were before it had to shut down any empathy towards them to survive

Idk, just thinking about it

[oddinary-cat]

Long time, no Chan...

(and a k-pop demon hunters version cos why the hell not)

ah shit they're out of order,,, oh well

[shitpostingkats]

Hey, Sephiroth? Turns out there's this guy named Prompto Argentum who also found out he was an artificial human with genetic enhancements who in attempting to fight monsters was killing the very beings he was most similar to, and guess what? He didn't do any of that shit.

[seeminglydark]

All you need to know is he definitely should be in math class or something and not at a fancy girly beauty pageant supporting his friend who absolutely does not wanna be there.

He’s NOT leaving, officer. ✨

Sully and his angel are from my comics Seemingly Dark and Mil-Liminal and my podcast Mil-Liminal.

[stealingpotatoes]

.....Artemis???

i’m gonna assume you’re asking abt former member of my court Artemis bc i love talking abt her. she was the stupidest chicken in the world. absolute opposite of her namesake (goddess of the hunt and a young justice character). she used to constantly get broody (ie think her eggs would hatch despite all my family’s chickens being girls) and we’d have to separate her (i still have a video of me showing her out of the hutch saying “[posh british accent] artemis is in the henitentiary because she’s [strongest kiwi accent ever] BREWDY” which made me realise how awful talking to hybrid-accented-child-me mustve been)

she was also tremendously fat and once tried to stick her head through the electric fence only to get stuck so i came home to a horrid but funny tick-cluck-tick-cluck. bc she clucked every time she got zapped. she also survived being eaten by a fox bc she was so unbelievably chubby. i loved her so so much she was truly an icon