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faeriekit · 6 months

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Health and Hybrids (XIV)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWOis here PART THREE is here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here PART EIGHT is here PART NINE is here PART TEN is here PART ELEVEN is here PART TWELVE is here PART THIRTEEN is here and this is part fourteen! Yes I messed it up this morning yes I had to wait all day to correct it it's all goooood

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Bart is a good egg who is having a Bad Time waiting for his friend :(

Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Danny wakes up with a gasp.

He’s—where is he? Everything hurts. He can barely think. Danny groans, long and loud, and lifts up an aching hand to his temple.

His fingers come away green. Aw, fuck. What happened to him? What’s going on? Why is his hand…blurry? Is he concussed? Is something wrong with his eyes, or with his head??

(He hopes it’s not his head. It’s waaay easier to heal from one than the other.)

Danny tries to sit up, and— NOPE. Ow. Bad idea. Suuuuuch a bad idea. His arms and hands and his neck and his back are screaming at him, now that he’s awake enough to pay attention. Ughhhhhhhhhhh.

He lays back down. His eyes don’t—well, they don’t shut all the way, which part of his brain labels as very bad, actually, but the world does turn darker and greener as he tries to shut his eyes, and that’s close enough to closing his eyes that Danny can mostly zone out past the pain.

He licks his sore lips. They taste like copper. And battery acid. …And Pixie Sticks.

Ugh, ecto-blood. His own, he assumes.

Everything is blurry and everything kind of hurts and he doesn’t know how he got here or what’s going on. Danny tries to roll over, tries to get more comfortable, but something starts dragging on the inside of his arm, which means intravenous lines.

Ugggghhhh. He hopes it’s got pain meds at least.

Awake him can deal with this later. Danny zones out, his labored breathing evens.

He’s asleep before he knows it.

Danny wakes up next to quiet murmuring, and to weird sensation of something moving in his arm.

He yawns—and his jaw cracks apart farther than usual, with more clicking noises than his jaw usually makes. Weird. His arms come up, his eyes unblur…

The tugging sensation doesn’t go away. Danny sniffs blearily. Blinks.

Two white-coated humans(…?) in PPE pause at his bedside, a half-dissembled IV shared between them.

Danny stops breathing. He can’t—is he—

His eyes go to the ceiling. The floor. He doesn’t recognize the room he’s in. He doesn’t understand. Is this the Guys in White again? Is he— Did he never leave? Is he trapped? Danny doesn’t—he can’t—

—One of the white coats starts making worried noises, which. Danny’s never heard that before. It’s usually threats. They raise both their arms, and Danny flinches back—

…And so do they. Huh. Hm. Are the Guys hiring scaredy cats now? That would be a change of pace, if they were as scared of Danny as Danny is of them.

The second person clicks the new IV bag into place. Danny stops focusing on number one and starts focusing on number two.

They don’t make any overt tells either. The IV line is already in him, and the bag is… Well. It’s not red and Danny’s not in any pain, and it’s not green either. It’s just. Kinda opaque? Milky? The person doesn’t start cackling evilly or telling Danny how screwed he is, either. They both just sort of…tidy up?

The first one doesn’t get closer, either, but Danny can mostly tell that they’re scanning him visually. Their attention goes from his face, to Danny’s visible arm, to the puncture point in his elbow for the IV needle.

Danny also eyes his IV point. Well. It looks like a needle. Doesn’t hurt all that much.

Someone says something he doesn’t catch. But the tone isn’t…mean, or anything. If anything, it sounds quiet, and low, like they’re trying to keep him calm.

Danny doesn’t understand.

He moves as far out of the way of them as possible. It only has the effect of a few inches and it's so painfully slow. If that. He— he remembers. He’s supposed to be scared of— something. No, he knows it—

The labs. He’s supposed to be scared of the labs. The smell is rank there and there’s always screaming and Danny had been hurt there; really, really hurt.

He’s still hurt. He’s still in a lab. In a room. In some sort of too-small prison, and now his barely-sewn together lungs are trying too hard to keep air in his body and it’s not working, and—

Danny barely pays attention when the first doctor leaves. He sees the other back into the door and reach for the phone line, and he can’t stop breathing and he can’t calm down because that means that they’re calling for help and they’re going to hurt him all over again. Tie him down. Cut him open. Shock him, until he can’t breathe without screaming—

Someone new comes in. They look— rushed. Danny can see her actively tying up long black hair, threading a mask up over her face, pulling on one of those paper shifts the doctors wear. The only difference is that she doesn’t put boot covers on.

She has big, bright boots that go all the way up her legs. With his green vision, they look kind of…greyish? (Maybe they’re pink..?)

Either way. They look…ridiculous. Danny doesn’t exactly forget to be scared, but also…what the fuck.

The woman sees that Danny can see her. She waves.

Danny presses back against his— cot. Bed.

That doesn’t stop her. She pulls latex gloves from out of the paper slip she’s wearing and snaps them on, revealing a thin layer of something shiny underneath her elastic-bound sleeves. Once that’s on, she does a visible body checkup of herself: boots, gown, gloves, mask, hair.

…No hair net, though. Or goggles. The Docs in White always wanted to be fully covered when they saw their victims. Being able to see her eyes is a lot…friendlier.

She figures herself out. Straightens. Gives a double thumbs up.

…Danny's eyes roam around. There’s no one nearby. There's only a wall behind him. Is she looking at…him? Is that directed to him?

She doesn’t move immediately— and once she’s in, the second doctor leaves the room entirely.

…The new person takes over. She goes from monitor to monitor, getting closer, but with none of the focus on Danny, per se. She reads his stats, verbalizes them out loud, which, doesn’t sound like…English? But enough to confuse him? It’s kind of like trying to discern Esperanto when he's not thinking about how it's not English.

Ancients. The pounding in his head is getting worse. Maybe Danny has a concussion or something.

The woman doesn’t…get. Him. In fact, he seems to be the least interesting thing in the room to her. Her time is spent on reading the charts and the machines waiting around him, putting something into a…fridge? A Cabinet? In the corner of his room? And otherwise, she leaves him alone.

Until. She does get up and look at him, and all of Danny tenses up painfully. He can’t move. Something’s holding down his legs, his body’s stiff, and all of him is so tired that he genuinely can’t tell if his waist is tied down or if he’s just that exhausted.

He can hear his heart rate monitor kick up. He can’t move, not really. He tries to go intangible but his core just throbs with misery, and—

She mostly just pats his sheets. Not his person, even. Apparently the torture is being held off for now. “Eow eart wel?”

…Danny squints. That is almost English.

“Eom hebbjan yift,” she adds, leadingly, as if Danny is a friend she can tease and not a subject under threat of the knife. He doesn't like it. It hurts. Nothing is real and everyone hates him and all he wants to do is leave but his body is rejecting him and—

Something light and plastic thumps down onto the bed.

Danny blinks. He looks—down. (His neck makes him regret that.)

Is that a…is that a space shuttle? No, ‘cause Danny thinks he recognizes it. It’s Discovery? Isn’t it? That’s the one they just retired. He tries to grab it, but— ouch, oof, his fingers can’t even stretch, bad idea—

The woman gently guides the shuttle into his hand. It doesn’t even hurt. And.

It’s cold to the touch. The model is plastic, it shouldn’t be so cold, but the sensation is distinctly cool and kind of familiar.

…Oh. Danny struggles to flex his fingers around the thing.

It’s him.

Or. Well. The shuttle is his. It has his ectoplasm imbued all throughout it. He can even sort of feel the sensation of carefulplayingcareful he’d have felt while near it. The feeling is weak, and timid, but it’s still there.

So. Then. When did he get it? And…why? Why was it allowed to him? How did he get it?

Is this how they’re feeding him now? Instead of showering him with poorly filtered ectoplasm every time he gets rowdy, are they actually trying to feed his Obsession? For real?? That’s—that’s brand new behavior from the—

Danny blinks. Wait. That’s not it either. Because there’s an IV in him. So…they know he’s getting human food.

So. Uh.

Hm.

Danny doesn’t want to get his hopes up. But this…might not be the Guys in White.

Of course, they might not be better than the GIW either; it’s a total possibility that Danny’s getting suckered into some scheme where every gentle permission and soft voice is a debt he owes…some new reason to take…

His eyelids twitch as they try to shut. He’s so tired. Fear kept him mobile, but now…everything is so heavy.

The lady carefully shushes him, ever so gently. She pulls up his blanket for him. Pats it down.

Danny shivers. He’s so, so scared.

“Ræste þiht,” the woman whispers. The words sound fond. Danny’s so scared, but he’s so tired. His heart is beating so fast. “An freond becymþ hraðe.”

It’s reassuring.

Danny doesn’t want it to be.

He falls asleep the way the desperate do—clawing at the last traces of wakefulness, only to have his consciousness ripped from him.

#Diana: Hi friend! :) I'm glad you're awake!#Danny: *dialling 911 and failing* HELLO???? POLICE?? ANYONE?? HELP???#HE'S UP AND HE'S PEOPLE!#also shoutout to everyone who thought Danny was too concussed for English. Nope! This is a Fundamentally Different English y'all.#health and hybrids #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom #tw gore #tw medical #tw body horror #dcu crossover

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sammunmak · 2 months

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Specs & Max Freelance Police in: Hells-A-Poppin'!

+ sam’s vices !!

this is basically an au idea i had for the alt timeline! i wrote out all the changes to the first two seasons, but it's a bit on the longer side so i'm sticking it under the cut.

this takes place immediately after sam and max steal the elevator from their future selves. there’s no obvious changes at first. the director gives them another contract after telling her they misplaced the first one, but not without threat of not giving them another one if they manage to misplace this one. once they wrap up the case and free myra stump from the hypnosis, they take the elevator (and their music contract) with them and put it away in storage, vowing to never speak of the possibility that they just killed their future selves again. ah well, knowing themselves, they probably survive. everything else afterwards is pretty much the same, though when sam and max see superball for the first time sam asks max if he looks familiar. max takes one look at him and proudly declares nope, not at all, and that’s the end of that.

the first major change happens in 106.

hugh: for in all the universe, there’s only one force chaotic and destructive enough to stop me now! but you wouldn’t do that, would you max?

max: who, ME? well, i’m- i’m flattered, but-

hugh: no you wouldn’t, not without your trusty partner, at least.

max: huh?

sam: what exactly are you implying?

hugh: i’m going to… drumroll, please… [drumroll] separate your bliss!

max: really?

sam: what does that even mean?!

hugh: it means i chop off every part of you i don’t like! it’s like circumcision, but double the laughs.

max: he-ey!

sam: quiet, knucklehead.

sam gets split into 3 vices. gluttony, greed, and wrath. wrath is formed from sam’s right ear, greed is formed from sam’s left hand (it even keeps the wedding band!), and gluttony is formed from. well, the stomach. max loses all romantic interest he had in hugh bliss in that moment.

max is very annoyed about the whole situation. he never has to do work on their cases, and suddenly he’s being forced to figure everything out on his own! but seeing sam’s awful blissed-out state is worse. blissed-out sam is basically just a big puppy. all smiles, completely clueless about everything around him, and has to be led around by his remaining hand if max wants him to go anywhere. max considers shooting him every time he makes a comment about hugging trees or something sentimental crap like that, but one look at that big dopey grin on sam’s face and he just can’t do it. he needs to turn sam back quickly, he’s turning into a sap just being near this… shell of his partner.

wrath is in the sanctuary, threatening the COPS for information on max’s whereabouts (yes it’s just noir sam lol). when max and bliss sam finally make their appearance, wrath almost immediately tries to shoot bliss sam. max stops it, of course. it seems like max is the only person wrath won’t lash out against. max has to open one of bluster blaster’s side panels, then get wrath close enough to it to shut the panel on his ear, pulling it off wrath when it tries freeing itself.

once sam gets his ear back, he seems to randomly decide to shoot at max.

max: what was that for?!

sam: i dunno, it just felt right.

when max walks into bosco’s store, he immediately makes eye contact with gluttony sam, who’s sitting on the floor eating a giant tub of ice cream. it doesn’t seem very interested in eating actual people (haha foreshadowing?) in the freezer are a bunch of popsicles. max can grab one and give it to gluttony, who’ll chomp it down wrapper and all. max has to put jimmy two-teeth into one of the wrappers in order to get gluttony to eat him, then pull out jimmy and sam’s stomach with the magic hat.

sam: anyone else suddenly got a hankerin’ for a fudgie freeze?

max: you don’t know how glad i am to hear you say those words.

greed is inside the office, hoarding just about everything in there and more. somehow there’s items in here max didn’t even know they had. or maybe greed just grabbed everything not bolted down to the floor on the way back to the office.

max has to buy bosco’s invention (which is just a big magnet), then use the spoon bending talisman to pull the spork out of the hugh bliss statue’s hand, give it to greed, and then use the magnet to drag its ass towards him and just yank sam’s hand off it.

sam: are you using that magnet?

max: nope! it’s all yours.

upon collecting all 3 vices, sam returns to normal, and they can now go fight hugh bliss. cue world of max :)

not much else changes until 204.

once they enter momma bosco’s store and accidentally reveal max’s lack of interest in girls, momma bosco becomes infatuated with him. sam and max try and argue against this for a while, until max tells her that he’s a married man.

ms b: i don’t see a ring on your finger.

max: well check again!

max flashes his left hand, revealing a bare ring finger. oh. he didn’t put on his ring today. sam is missing his ring as well. seems they got a bit excited when flint invited them on a case with him and forgot them.

(not gonna lie this whole puzzle isnt fully fleshed out. the whole plan would be that they have to go back to their prom and essentially crash it in order to help max realize he doesn’t like girls. i did also have the idea of superball printing marriage certificates instead of patents, which they’d need to grab one from him and hang it on the corkboard in the near future, then go to the distant future and take their wedding rings from their future selves. if i do ever have an idea of how exactly this all pans out i’ll make it into a fic or something. for now tho this is the best i could come up with.)

max is very proud to show off his new wedding ring to momma bosco.

later on, sam is glad he kept that music contract on him, once one of the pedros asks for one.

of course, despite keeping their past selves from boarding the UFO, the elevator is still oddly enough missing when they run back to it.

max: hey, the elevator’s gone! what gives?

sam: hmm… remember what got us into this whole mess, the temporal anomalies and whatnot? maybe it’s another one of those? maybe this is the universe’s way of trying to correct the timeline, and we have to leave the same way our future selves did, since we’re-

max: alright, alright! less talky more- figuring out how to get off this dang ship!

ah well, having two elevators seems a bit overkill anyway.

not so long later, in 205:

sam: you better release our pals’ souls from hell, cause my excitable little friend is getting angry.

max: and i’m angry, too!

satan: there’s no need for that kind of talk. i’ll gladly release your friends. just sign this release.

max: hold on sam, i got this!

sam: …you sure, max?

max: positive! watch this. [he pulls out a crayon and scribbles his name on the contract]

satan: and that’s that.

sam: well that was pretty easy.

satan: now just do me a favor and think of the most horrible thing you can imagine.

max: ooh, that might take a second, there’s so many- oh, maybe- wait no, i’ve got it!

satan: good. now off you go!

[max disappears]

sam: sweet summering sausages sweltering on a busy sidewalk, what did you do?!

satan: he traded his soul for that of all your friends. they never read the fine print. now max will spend eternity in his own personal hell!

max: back in the office? where’s my partner?

specs: i’m over here!

max finds himself stuck inside a now very tidy office with specs, the neat freak of the soda poppers.

max: so where’s my REAL partner?

specs: what are you talking about, i AM your real partner.

max: uh, no. last i checked my partner was a six foot tall dog in a suit, not… you.

specs: oh, max. clearly you’re confused. you’ve always had a terrible memory. but don’t worry, i’m here to keep everything in order for you.

max is just about ready to start ripping out patches of his fur when he sees sam, sticking his big nose through the hole in their office wall. after a bit of arguing, max remembers the key card. he yells at sam to use it so they can kick demon’s spec’s ass together. when sam gets in there they do just that, ending in sam throwing the demon out the open window. with max’s personal hell defeated and leonard’s soul free they leave and finally go and confront satan.

as a bonus, a fun change to a piece of dialogue in 201:

sam: how long do you think it’ll take for one of us to kick the bucket?

max: i dunno, but i think if one of us were to go, the other would follow very close behind. maybe not even by choice!

sam: does that mean if i go first, i can take you with me?

max: sure does! in fact, i encourage it!

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