#monster panic

[chasedbybuildings]

Further to my previous post about my Game & Watch handheld, I've since rediscovered the name of the other one I owned. Turns out it was called Monster Panic and I thought it was kind of rework of Donkey Kong, but after seeing this 1981 advert for it I then remembered that there was a bit more to it. I don't remember mine being yellow - I thought mine was white - but perhaps there were various colours available. Or I'm just remembering it wrong.

I love the little images of different bits of the game, especially the fight with the skeleton.

[dxrkl1ght]

CW: Panic attack, musophobia, and scratches!!

everything's okay...

Part 5/5

- Part 1/5

- Part 2/5

- Part 3/5

- Part 4/5

DCA! Serial Killer AU by @ayyy-imma-ninja & @moonlit-dreamers

This comic is not canon to the AU!! This is just made for fun :)

[etanow]

Did Pomni get her domino's? 😭😭

He can NOT say no to that face

[benevolenterrancy]

SQH prompt since you asked for one in the tags of that one post.

SQH and SQQ on their cart journey to get the sun moon dew mushroom seeds!

Thanks for the suggestion! I love their stupid little roadtrip together xD although this quickly became less about me figuring out SQH's hair/robes and more about me figuring out how in the world to draw a horse drawn carriage... SQQ needs to use his sword more just so I can avoid this

[pressureplus]

hi!! could i ask for you to write a fic or headcanons about sebastian taking care of an agender or nonbinary reader during panic or anxiety fits? thank you for opening your asks for requests!!

Sorry this is so delayed!

Sebastian Solace x Reader Having a Panic Attack

Warnings: Panic Attacks Depicted/Mentioned, NB!Reader, Mentions of PTSD

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

He’s close with you, definitely, and seeing you begin to get that feral almost prey look in your eyes takes him back to when he used to have that same glazed over look

The haze of worry that falls over you, the weight, he recognizes it immediately

Sebastian understands your panic attacks on a deep, very intimate level. Mostly because he has them too.

He hasn’t in quite a while, but when he feels his chest tighten up and his breathing get funny. When he feels like he’s going to pass out or die, he remembers all those things that used to make him feel this way

He remembers how awful they feel, and is almost heartbroken you have to deal with them too

When he finds you struggling to breathe and shaking he’s slow to lower himself to your height, but not quite crowding around you

He doesn’t want you to feel caged

“Can I touch you?” He mutters softly, a question you can answer with a nod or a shake of the head. He doesn’t want to ask something complicated, something complex.

If you nod, he places one of his large hands against your back. He knows security is something that’s supposed to bring comfort. He’ll shield you away from everything but him by coiling his large form in front of you.

He drags your hands to his scales quietly as he taps on your back, a soft reminder to breathe

“Close your eyes, run your hands over the scales. Take a deep breath in and count, when you reach 7, breathe out. Can you do that for me?”

He works on grounding you to reality, letting you feel the smooth texture of his scales. The light warmth of his blood pulsing just below the surface. A reminder you are as alive and breathing as he is.

He helps you breathe through it, if you need to be held to quell the shaking he will wrap his tail around you for the pressure you’re seeking

If you’d prefer not to be touched or to touch at all, that’s also okay. He will help you breathe by sitting across from you and counting with you instead

He’s got some vivid memories, some of which send him right back to the state you’re sat in, and sometimes the only thing you can do is ride it out

“I know, I know it’s scary. I know you might think you’re going to die. You’re not, this is not going to kill you, you’re going to be okay. I promise you’re going to be okay.”

He will sit with you as long as you need, he’ll turn on or off that little esca of his if light or darkness helps. If you’d prefer to focus on him doing something, he’ll sort papers next to you

He will never force you to talk, and if you want total silence he’ll give it to you

He’ll never tease or poke at you for this either, it’s one of the only things he won’t tease you for

When you’re done with your panic attack, when you’re breathing steadily, he’ll pull you to him

He’ll wipe any tears away that fell. A hand on your hip, one on your cheek, and the third running through your hair as he shushes and coos

He’ll be soft, why wouldn’t he be? It’s you.

He’ll let you hug him if you need it, or get you something to drink or snack on

You don’t have to talk about it with him, you never even have to acknowledge that it happened

All you need to do is know that if you ever need someone there, a safe space to go, he’s right here and he’ll always be there

[see-arcane]

The Substack! It lives!

Please do get an eyeful of the whole thing, but for those who want to cut straight to one of the newer goodies, this is the link to the new preview chapter of Harker.

Minor note: For some reason the order of posts got a bit screwy. The chapters for specific stories are all still clustered together but a bit mixed around. I think it has something to do with me fussing with edits and the Substack publishing in order of what was tinkered with last, but oh well. I'll do better with future posts that aren't dropped in a bulk pile.

Hope you enjoy the early Halloween treat!

[bucketsofmonsters]

Deep Water - Part 4

cw: the ocean, animal carcasses, rotting, malnourishment, more tags to be added as the story continues

merman x fem reader

Word count: 3k

read on ao3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

You woke up disoriented on an unfamiliar floor, the steady sounds of snoring filling your ears. 

You turned to see Finn, still fast asleep as you rose from your little spot on the floor. He was bundled up in blankets, his head just barely peeking out of them enough to breathe. 

You didn’t want to bother him. He’d done so much for you, the last thing you wanted to do was to disturb his rest. 

In your attempt to begin to get ready without disturbing him, you managed to get your feet tangled in the loose blankets below you and tumble back to the floor.

You quickly righted yourself just in time to see Finn begin to shift, waking fitfully. 

He groaned, eyes barely peeking open to look up at you. “Is… Oh. I forgot you were here.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

He tried to wave dismissively but in his half-asleep state, it looked more like he attempted to clumsily swat a fly out of the air.

He rose from the bed slowly, a little unsteady on his feet.  “I’ll find you some clothes.”

You took him in as he moved to the drawers beside the bed. He was a little scrawnier than the average man working on the docks and only a few inches taller than you, but still, you were sure that his clothes would fit you awkwardly, if at all. “You really don’t have to do that, my clothes are mostly dry now.”

“Nonsense, I have just the thing for you.”

And then he pulled out a dress, a practical one with reasonable skirts and allowance for movement. A dress you’d seen before. 

You reeled back a little as you asked, “Why do you have my sister’s clothes?”

It came out harsher than you’d intended it to. Maybe the shock was to blame, you weren’t certain. 

He deflated at your words, crumpling in on himself, his shoulders slumping as his face fell. 

“I should have told you,” he said, visibly mortified. “I know I should have. You just… you look just like her.”

The realization hit you instantly. “You two were…”

“I wasn’t trying to replace her,” he said, rushing in to cut you off. “I mean, I couldn’t replace her even if I did want to. It was just… it was nice to see you. I could almost pretend, just a little.”

The more he tried to justify it, the more your heart sank. “How long were you together?” you asked, your voice flat and distant.”

“Years. She was everything to me.” His voice was low and sad, sadness that you were sure was for her and not for you, standing betrayed in front of him. Why would it be for you? How selfish could you be?

You almost wished he’d yelled at you. Then maybe it wouldn’t make you feel so bad. He seemed devastated and apologetic and all the things he could be and yet now that you knew you could just tell. You could see him looking at you like you were her, with faux, unearned affection in his eyes behind the heartbreak. 

It made you furious. You wanted to throw something, to shout at him, to demand to be seen as a person, to be removed from her shadow. 

But he was grieving, just as you were. Probably more. 

The least you could to was be kind. 

So you gave him a half-hearted, soft pat on his shoulder and tried to paint as much sympathy accross your face as you could manage.

“You didn’t mean any harm,” you said, and you knew it was true. 

It still stung. 

And then you took the dress from his hands, his grip softening as you reached for it, and you left. 

You found an empty room to change in and went off to work as quickly as you could.

The next few weeks passed quickly, settling into an easy routine. Without Finn hovering over your shoulder as you worked, you were free to move quickly and mindlessly, doing your job exactly as intended and no more. 

You stopped by to see Simon almost every day. The days you couldn’t, held up late at the docks, he no longer threw a complete fit. There was huffing and pouting but he hadn’t kindaped you again and you considered that progress.

In fact, after the stunt he’d pulled, he seemed hesitant to even get near you, like even his presence was tainted now. He was more careful than he’d been, asking before he did anything. 

You supposed it was preferable over the alternative. 

You and Finn had grown distant. He was clearly trying to give you space but you couldn’t quite breach that gap and bring yourself to talk to him so instead you let him fade away, sharing quiet polite smiles when you saw one another and nothing more. Your only real friend here now gone. Other than your monster that you still caught glimpses of below the docks, no matter how many times you warned him that it was ill-advised.

You didn’t mind going to see him. There was very little understanding between you but it felt nice, having him so eager to meet with you every day, shifting uncomfortably in shallow water that he braved for you. 

It had been a bad day. 

Nothing had happened, not really, but that awful ship was back. Every time you saw it, a wave of nausea overtook you, brought back to you kicking and screaming on the deck, inhaling rain as you huffed in breaths. 

Finn had shot you a concerned look or two as he apparently read your nerves off your face, but he had kept his distance, respectful and stomach-churning. 

You wanted him to come check in on you, something he clearly wanted to do, but you still refused to go speak with him first. You couldn’t do it, couldn’t return to him like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, offering yourself as your sister’s replacement if he’d just speak to you.  

So instead, at the end of an awful day, you scurried off the docks to your spot, content that you’d at least get to see your siren. 

On the shore, where you usually sat, lay the tail end of a sea lion, bloody with bones sticking out, looking almost rotted.

You looked into the water to find amber eyes staring back at you, wide and expectant. 

You knew instantly he’d brought it here, though you couldn’t fathom why. It wasn’t a fresh kill, instead looking like it had been pulled off a beach somewhere where it’d washed up. 

A sense of shame flickered in his eyes, fighting back a grimance as you noticed it. 

“Do you want it?” he asked, head nodding towards the carcass.

“No,” you said, and he reeled back, not looking surprised but seeming upset all the same. 

“It’s the best I could do,” he said, eyes downcast. “I’ve been trying to find something better but I’m not built for this.”

His voice was tinged in a sense of bitterness and frustration and you wished you knew what he was talking about so you could comfort him. Or at least understand why he was upset. 

“Built for what? Why is this here?”

“It was supposed to be food,” he said with a huff. “I have nothing for you. I can’t provide you anything.”

“Provide me… You don’t need to provide for me, I can get my own food.”

“You shouldn’t have to. I want to… I want to show you I can keep you safe but I can’t. Couldn’t even keep you fed.”

As he spoke, you really took him in, sitting behind a rotting carcass that wasn’t fit for anyone to eat. 

What had he been eating if after weeks, this was the best he could bring you?

And then it struck you, the way he’d begun positioning himself in the shallows, stomach carefully down, arms in front of it, shifted away from you. 

“Come here,” you said, trying to keep your words soft. 

He looked like he was about to cry but he shifted forwards all the same. 

You fought back a gasp as he finally let you get a good look at him. 

He looked emaciated. Where soft, plump skin used to be, it instead had begun to pull taught over ribs that looked sharper than the human ribs you were accustomed to. 

With the new context, you could see it in his face too, his full cheeks beginning to bow in.

“What happened to you?” you asked, cursing yourself that you could have missed this, could have let him keep his distance and hide this from you so easily. 

“I’m not good at hunting,” he said, rufusing to meet your gaze. 

“You were fine before, what changed?”

He shifted and you could see a war waging inside his head, the conflict written accrosss his features. 

You waited, owing him patience at least. 

Finally, he seemed to come to a decision and he spoke, still sad and low but with a sense of finality rising behind it. 

“We’re not hunters, we’re not built for it. Not fast enough or sharp enough. We’re built to lure in prey but… you’re a person. If I hadn’t stopped to talk to you, you’d just be gone, drowned and devoured, and I wouldn’t even have known that it hurt, let alone… I can’t do it anymore,” his words had shifted from sad and low to frustrated and sharp. “I can’t hunt so I can’t eat fish but I can’t do it anymore. Every time I look at them I keep just seeing you.”

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes at the thought that you had done this to him. The revelation that he’d been eating humans fell by the wayside at the sight of sad eyes on a gaunt face that used to be warm and soft.

And you couldn’t even do anything about it. You didn’t have the resources to get him fish, not after the measly few weeks you’d spent here. You had barely managed to find yourself lodgings in a grimy old inn, barely eating enough to keep up your strength. 

But you had to. You couldn’t just leave him to this, in this situation that you’d dragged him into when you’d gotten thrown off that ship. When on the worst day of your life, he saw easy prey in front of him and decided to be kind. 

And then an idea came to you. An awful idea, sure, but the only one you had. 

You muttered a quiet “wait here” before you stood up and sprinted back to the dock, knowing you had to catch him before he left. 

Finn’s face lit up when he saw you nearing him, relief pulling the tension out of his shoulders and bringing a soft smile to his face. 

You grabbed his hand and with a soft noise of confusion escaping him, you dragged him down to your isolated little spot on the beach. 

The whole time you pulled him along, as he followed you without question, you tried to think how to explain any of this to him. 

You kept moving as you wracked your brains, needing to solve this, needing to know it could be fixed, and you came up with nothing.  

Anything would be better than just bringing him in blind, a fact you realized seconds too late, arriving at your spot on the shore. 

You saw the panic in Simon’s eyes seconds before disaster hit. Right before Finn noticed him, he was being snatched into the water, pale arms hooked under his armpits, holding him down in the shallows. It seemed mainly like shock and confusion that kept Finn down. Submerged in deep water he wouldn’t stand a chance, but here, in the shallows, against a malnourished and emotional siren; he could’ve taken him easily.

But he didn’t, instead thrashing a little with eyes wide and he tried to take in the simultaneous facts that sirens were real and that one had just dragged him into the water. 

“He’s here to help, drop him,” you snapped, shooting a harsh look at Simon. 

“I didn’t even do anything wrong,” he said, a grouchy look crossing his face as he let Finn go, drifting nervously back into the water. You recognized it for what it was. He was preparing for his escape, just in case. 

You didn’t blame him for the instinct. To be honest, it was a good one. Blind trust like that in anyone could get him killed. 

You hoped this wouldn’t be one of those times. You hoped you’d prove him wrong. 

Your hand snapped out to grab Finn’s wrist as he tried to stagger away, eyes wide and frightened.

“Finn,” you said, keeping your voice measured and level. “This is Simon. He’s a friend.”

You didn't think you'd ever seen such panic and betrayal in his eyes, his face normally light and happy. He was breathing heavy, eyes darting between the two of you like he couldn't quite believe he wasn't about to get pulled back in.

Finn looked down at your hand encircling his wrist. He tested his strength against yours, almost pulling away before deciding to let you keep him there. Ever patient, he didn’t take the out, he didn't run. He waited, by your side, nervous but steady.

His breaths slowed, taking stock of Simon in the water.

You weren’t sure who looked more frighted, both sizing one another up, ready to bolt should the need arise. 

You left them to it, terrified that any sudden movement would shatter the tentative peace that was forming between them. 

He nodded slowly, eyes not moving from Simon, shivering slightly in newly wetted clothes. “And why exactly,” he began, eyes locked onto Simon, “did you want me to meet this friend of yours?”

“Um. So he wants to stop eating people,” you said, wincing as you heard yourself and the reality of what you'd just said sunk in.

“He eats people?” Finn asked, his voice spiking up in panic as his head whipped towards you.

“And he would like to stop. If we can’t help him, what do you think he’s going to start doing again?”

“It’s not my fault!” Simon huffed from the water. “The fish don’t hate you for eating them, why do you get to be mad at me?”

“The fish aren’t people,” Finn insisted, arms wrapping around himself as he shivered in the cold air. 

“And you aren’t sirens. I thought you were stupid anyway, like fish.”

“You thought we were like fish?”

Simon shrugged. “Not like fish. But the difference from you to fish is like the difference from you to me. Or… I thought so. We might have been wrong. I don’t know, I just eat.”

He seemed uncomfortable with having to explain himself, shifting in the water as he glanced at you every few seconds. 

It took a moment for you to realize what he was looking for. It was approval, you could see him searching for it in your eyes. 

You weren’t sure you could give it to him. Your stomach churned at his words but you could feel how earnest he was, could hear the confusion and distress in his voice.

He hadn’t thought he was doing anything wrong. Why would he? He was just doing what sirens had always done and now he wasn’t so sure about it any longer and his whole past was filled with deaths he didn’t know if he could justify anymore. 

How would you feel, you wondered, if you met a fish one day and that fish told you it was afraid? If it told you that it told stories to its young about your kind and how they’d snatch it up and cook it over an open flame. 

Would it be your fault? Would those deaths be on your conscience?

Would you ever have the presence of mind to see a fish, alone in strange waters, and save it? Could you even do what Simon had done, take that first step?

Your heart hurt for him, alone in his crisis, with no one to talk to about it. His only options were his kind that depended on these horrible deaths to survive and you. And his prey. 

Finn pulled you aside, far from out of Simon's earshot but it seemed to settle him a little bit to at least feign privacy. 

“What do you want me to do here?” Finn hissed.

“I want to help him. He saved my life and… and even if he didn't, is this not for the best? He wants to do better, we can't just not help him.”

He nodded, hesitant but willing. “Okay, so what now.”

“I don’t know. He can eat fish, we know that for sure. Maybe other food too? Do you think he can eat human food?”

Finn pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I don’t know. How would I know? I guess I can get him fish, we could sneak a couple out and buy some before we leave at night. Would that be enough?”

You shrugged. “I have no idea.”

He sighed. “Great."

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this, I just didn’t know anyone else I could go to.”

He gave you a soft smile. “It’s the least I could do. Now, I’m going to go scrounge something up, you keep your little siren company.”

You shot him one last grateful look before settling down on the beach, water lapping at your shoes. 

Simon pulled himself out of the water a bit, trying to get closer to you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. 

You took his hand from where it lay, shifting nervously over some rocks, and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

“I know.”

[sisyphean-torment]

this is normal behavior for writers for comics, right? scripting dialogue and describing the scenes by drafting all the paneling and dialogue and character positioning and having it in a horrendous single canvas divided into 10 squares since 10 was the page max and your poor artist is going to have a to draw all this so you condense the entire plot like a mastermind and still have time to crack jokes and draw cub’s entire buttcheeks slung over hotguy’s shoulders. sorry what were we talking about

anyway it was so much fun to get to work with @tibby-art for the Hotguy Comics Zinethology!! please go check out the full comic in all its finished glory!

[fumifooms]

What if we were both magic prodigies and it otherized us in different ways and we devoted ourselves to protecting a family member who has general other goals & priorities. What if we both did self-sacrifical devotion in opposite ways.

What if we were dark mirrors of each other and where I've grown overcontrolling you've grown complacent. What if, bought as a servant into a pretty loving home, ownership and control is what love looks like to me, and to you neglected and lonely growing up, love is gratefully taking any scraps of it you’re lent.

By belonging to someone, even if she comes back injured or fails at finding Delgal, she feels like she belongs and is cherished, by owning someone he feels safe in them not leaving him.

She’s what’s tethering him do you see… And he’s the only thing giving her direction and purpose in her state. She needs a compass and he needs a support.

They’re both so out of it 😭 It’s the weirdly intense and unearned mutual trust and reliance on each other?? They’re each other’s weird little comfort codependent teddy bear. Or at least they were headed towards that before SHE DIED THEN HE DIED THEN THEY BOTH FORGOT ABOUT EACH OTHER AND NEVER MET EVER AGAIN. Though she’s also the guard attack hound keeping him safe… And vice versa he heals her and can rewrite her very being with just one wave of his hand. They’re both so so mentally and physically vulnerable both but they cling onto each other. They can’t perceive things accurately but despite it all someway somehow they stumble into something closer to resembling companionship just before they both die. Falin is just that kind and Thistle is just that lonely. Overworked.

We both haven’t lived for ourselves in a very long time, haven’t we.

They both have a similar devotion to the people they love but again the difference is that Thistle starts overtsepping while Falin is self-effacing. The other difference between them is that people care about Falin <3 People have given up on Thistle long ago, and he has given people reasons to, while people refuse to give up on Falin. Yaad has a mini arc about it dw about it it’s ok he’s not all alone in the end 😭😭 He reached out for Marcille’s hand but they already all wanted to help him, they just had to be given the chance to, Yaad just had to be given the chance to, it’s okay I’m okay

Hey what if we learned to get in touch with our own identity and the world around us and living in the present again through being in the worst codependent situationship ever.

Falin and Thistle sitting in a tree, sucking on flowers together because they’re h-u-n-g-r-y 💕💕💕

I bet he’s only ever thought of flowers as useless ornaments. Weak weeds. But she shows him they’re tasty and useful and good and pretty in their own right too and deserve existing without proving their worth and waaa <33 Thistles…... Did you know thistles taste sweet if you remove the thorns and eat them?

"Even as a chimera, her kind nature remains" you can’t suppress her in the way that matters. You can’t soothe him in the way that matters. It’s doomed. You’re doomed. It’s all doomed. Save me.

[echo-cave]

King Ghidorah (1964)

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

[howlonomy]

Fucked up little idea.

What if the first time M!Clover catches sight of their birth 'parents', is at their memorial statue.

Gloating about them as if they weren't probably half the reason they climbed Mt Ebbot in the first place.

this is so fucking evil why would you give me this idea

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt 58 Part 7

The long dining room that held the ornate old dining table that seated way too many people already held  most of the family. Bruce was missing and Damian informed them he was at work, the only other person missing was Jason but it was typical for him to skip out as he didn’t live there and didn’t have the best track record with the rest of the family. That left Damian, Tim, Cass, Duke, and Dick seated.

Damian sat next to the chair that Bruce normally sat in at the head of the table. Tim sat across from Damian followed by Dick, Duke, and Cass. Danny sat next to Damian and Jazz sat next to Danny. 

“So, how was school?” Dick asked his elbows on the table with his head on his hands and a smile. He was the only adult in their life besides Bruce that actually cared about their schooling. 

Danny had actually forgotten that all of this had happened in just one day. The thought was a little jarring if Danny was being honest with himself. He wasn’t sure what to tell Dick, on one hand he was just asking about school on the other… no he wasn’t going to think about what happened right now. Just the thought caused phantom volts to go through his body like he was reliving the accident. He felt a nudge to his foot from the right and looked up to see Damian giving him a quizzical look. He cleared his throat and looked back over to Dick who was giving him the same kind of look. 

“I-I’m, uh… school was fine, didn’t learn much since school just started,” He eventually decided to say after stumbling on his words a little. 

“Dash isn’t picking on you again this year is he?” Dick asked with a concerned look on his face. 

Danny wished it was just Dash, the pain he felt from the portal was a thousand times worse than anything the bullying blond could pull. If it was just Dash, Danny could have just laughed it off and forgotten it probably, but it wasn’t just Dash and Danny couldn’t help but take a deep breath trying to gather his thoughts and calm himself.

He startled as he felt a hand on his knee, he looked to his left to see Jazz giving him a look of sympathy as she rubs her thumb comfortingly on his knee. She then spoke, “Danny you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, Okay?”

Danny gave her a small nod, a small smile on his face. 

Before a new topic could be discussed Alfred arrived with their food and began serving them. Danny loved the food the old butler cooked especially since he was able to do so in a kitchen that wasn’t contaminated. Alfred did his best to make sure everyone was served food to their liking, as long as it was a balanced meal at the end of the day the elderly butler would serve just about anything you’d request.

Danny picked up his fork to begin on his salad, however when he tried to push the fork into the lettuce his hand felt a cooling sensation with pins and needles and his fork went through his hand. He stared at his hand for a moment wondering what just happened. He then picked up his fork to try again and was able to get a mouth full, but when he went for a second bite it happened again, his fork clanging against the bowl again.

“Something wrong Danny? You're staring at your hand weird,” Danny heard Dick speaking and looked up to see Dick staring at him giving him an odd look. 

Danny couldn’t help but rub his neck nervously with his other hand, he hoped to get ahold of whatever this was so no one noticed. Though knowing his luck everyone probably did notice, over the years he and Jazz both noticed that the Wayne family was much more observant than their media persona’s showed. 

Dinner continued and Danny struggled to eat anything as anything he tried to hold fell through his hand frustratingly and Danny couldn’t help but get agitated. 

Eventually his glass he was holding slipped through his hand and tumbled onto the floor shattering into a thousand pieces. Danny let out a frustrated sigh as he stared at the mess he made. 

Before he could stand to clean up Alfred appeared by his side with a dustpan and broom and began cleaning it up, “are you still feeling unwell Master Daniel? Perhaps you should retire for the evening, I will attend to this mess.” Danny begrudgingly nodded his head and made his way out of the room.

He wasn’t alone for long as Damian and Jazz tailed him out of the room. 

“What was that? It looked like your spoon was going through your hand,” Jazz asked after they were a ways from the dinning room.

“Jazz, honestly I don’t know, it felt cold and then anything I tried holding fell through my hand.” Danny brushed his bangs away from his forehead and they dropped back into his face as he dropped his hands back down to his side.

The walk went silent after that, although it didn’t stay for long as Danny felt the cooling sensation again but this time through his whole body, he let out a yelp as he felt his body sink into the floor.

Damian and Jazz looked at him with panic but as they grabbed at his arms or his hands to pull him back up they went through him just as the spoon and apparently the ground now. 

He let out a panicked yell as the floor swallowed him whole, so now he was sinking further down further into the earth. What was going to happen to him? Would he ever find his way back up?

Thankfully he didn’t have to wait long as the cooling sensation left and as gravity took hold of him again he fell. Apparently there was a cave under the manor and he was able to turn back into solid as he felt air again. There was no way he was surviving this, even with new weird powers now was when he’d get impaled by spikes right?

The cave was too dark to make out much but Danny thought he might have seen a computer with several monitors. That didn’t matter now as he finally landed, and he grunted as he landed on a person who also grunted as having a teen land on you couldn’t be the most comfortable.

He knew he was in big trouble when he realized who he landed on, “Batman??”

[deanspajamas]

little stupid intro thing bc im super bored!!

[shapeshiftinterest]

krobus from stardew valley and the farmer from pumpkin panic

became friends and take walks sometimes

[heretherebedork]

Just... Wan being afraid of dating because it might change everything like rejecting his advances won't change anything at all. Like pretending it never happened is something people can do, truly. Like rejecting Beer would meant that they could return to the limbo of pining and friendship.

Wan in love and afraid to be in love because the last time he fell in love he lost the person for two years and just found out that he left because he didn't think he mattered to them (after a love confession?!!?!) and timing was off and now he's rejecting Beer because he associates love with being left behind and unimportant to the person he loves.

And so he clings to friendship as a safer choice even though his friendship with Beer is built on Beer being in love with him and him loving him back. How is he going to handle his jealousy? How can he be jealousy and needy when he's already rejected him?

This is gonna be rough but it has to be because Wan has to get past his own fear of rejection and loss and the only way, honestly, is going to be Beer starting to move on after the rejection.