Health and Hybrids (XVIII)👽👻💚
[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 PART FOURTEEN is here PART FIFTEEN is here PART SIXTEEN is here PART SEVENTEEN is here..welcome to eighteen..
💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)
Where we last left off... Uh... *checks notes* UH... *flips frantically*...listen my laptop exploded and I lost the original version of this chapter gimme a break. I think it was the oatmeal ch. last off.
Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.
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So. Danny is halfway through his squeeze this, please exercises where he has a grippy thing the doctors give him where he tries to squeeze this until they make calm noises again when something bursts through the door.
He’s so distracted that he drops his squeezing machine.
Everyone immediately gets terse and guarded— the lady who looks out for him the most actually pulls up in front of him? Like, protecting him? With her body?? It’s so far out of left field Danny has to wonder if they’re, like, keeping him for something important down the line instead of just treating him.
The doctors take shelter behind medical equipment where they can, but whatever the assailant is, it’s too fast for them to put up their defenses. For a second, Danny is instinctually scared— the doctor in the periwinkle scrubs sees him almost every day, changing out his bag and fussing with his lower half under his blankets. The doctor in green makes him do the hand stretches he doesn’t want to do and sit up so that he can do it more often again.
He’s used to them. He doesn't want that to change, or— Or for them to get hurt.
The blur darts through the doors and past the doctors and is definitely aimed at Danny, so when the lady catches it (with one hand??) and hauls it up out of reach of Danny’s cot, Danny’s relieved wheeze is genuine and emphatic. Ohgodthatwasscary.
On the other end of her arm is a teenager. A teenager in a…red…outfit, probably, unless he really likes gray and Danny’s eyes are actually working normally for once. Gray hair. Some kind of face, presumably.
The teen’s legs keep spinning until he realizes how caught he is. Then he goes completely limp in defeat.
“Cild Lihting se þridda,” the lady scolds, not unlike how Danny’s heard Vlad scold his cat for throwing paperwork off his desk. “Hwæt eart eow dydest?”
“...Naþing ,” the teenager lies, badly, and it sounds so much like Nothing, mom, wasn’t me, that Danny can’t help but choke out a laugh.
It makes his chest muscles spasm and his throat sore, sure, but that’s not the point. The lady keeps scolding the teen she’s holding up midair, but the teen lights up at Danny’s choked out wheeze like the sun. Almost literally, actually— the green starts accumulating in Danny’s field of view as his body tries to compensate for whatever’s going on in the atmosphere around him.
The doctors slowly let down their improvised shields, fetching Danny’s lost grippy tool (ugh) and putting it back in his hand (UGH). Danny gives one, pathetic squeeze of the tool, and then decides to visibly languish, because this sucks, obviously. The fact that no one can sympathize with his struggle isn’t new. Just watch him go limp about it.
The next time the lady and the teen stop making scolding and scolded noises, Danny looks over; the teenager has been, apparently, wrangled into a hair net and face mask. Okay. So it’s not that Danny is off limits then— or maybe he is, but either way, it’s more about getting people into the right gear than about keeping them away from him. Once the teen’s been sprayed down with something that smells absolutely gross, forcibly gloved, and dropped unceremoniously onto the ground, the teen is back on his feet and hollering as he leaves the lady behind. “Þancie eow!!”
“Slaw, lytel Lihting!”
Slow, Danny understands, parsing out the weird words as they reach him. Lytel might as well mean little. This sucks. He can never tell if he’s right when he guesses, and he just gets lucky when people understand him back, or whether people are pretending to understand him more than they actually do. Lighting is a weird nickname for a kid though.
—And then the teen is a foot away from his face and babbling at top speed, entirely at ease with their proximity and hands moving a mile a minute, and Danny has not been losing enough time for that to be anything other than either magic or a superpower.
Oh, his brain corrects. The word clicks into place. Lightning.
It’s probably some kind of magic, Danny’s guessing, because as he’s absolutely flabbergasted that someone is leaning into his face and trying to engage him that talk that isn’t happening, his ghost sense flares with a backwash of OMGHIHELLO!!MIS/SEDYOUMISSED//YOUPLAYING?? that. Uh. Is very…a lot? Very intense??
Very…welcoming?
The lady who minds him but isn’t a doctor sighs, picks the teenager up by the waist (??) and sets him a whole foot back. The teen doesn’t even stop chattering, his aura flaring alongside a story Danny is definitely missing, but not unappreciative of.
He throws something onto Danny’s bed. Danny drops the grippy tool in order to grab it, to the doctor’s verbal dismay.
But.
Like Danny’s model shuttle, which never leaves his side, the thing on his bed is Danny’s. This is Danny’s weird, flimsy, squishy toy.
The teen practically vibrates with pride.
…Okay, then. He’s kind of confused, but like. You know. He’s not against this.
Danny picks the squishy, blue thing in his trembling fingers and shakes it around without any sense of fine motor control, and the thing leaps out of his fingers and lands on the floor pretty much instantaneously.
It makes a weird suction noise. Danny peeks over the bed to find it sitting upright, stuck to the floor.
The teen responds by throwing even more colorful, oddly-shaped toys on the bed.
Danny knows enough about doctors to know that there were probably structured plans on how Danny was supposed to spend his time on specific exercises to target specific muscles and stretch specific parts of his hands, but the teen sits at his bedside and plays with toys Danny doesn’t remember with him, and no one stops them at all.
It’s nice.
For about an hour, until Danny truly tires, it's almost…normal.
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i cannot stop thinking of victorian omegaverse au in which the leech twins are butlers for azul’s omega darling. just,,,, the reverse power imbalance is so good because while the twins are bound to you in servitude they’re still alphas and you’re still an omega. biologically, they’re superior. but in terms of class, you’re higher on the pyramid.
maybe you are betrothed to azul and now that the two of you are married you’ve moved into his grand estate, which is where you meet the twin butlers. the head butler (jade) is very kind and polite, always knowing just what to say when he serves you or wakes you each morning. he’s memorized your meal preferences, what sort of flowers you want planted in the gardens, and even the kinds of attire you enjoy wearing. floyd is also sweet. he always brightens a considerable amount when he sees you (he always compliments how nice you look), and he completes most of the physically demanding tasks on the grounds.
both of them are always looking out for their master’s darling, especially during those pesky heats. you’ve taken to enduring them in the confines of your bedroom and the entire week is unbearably sticky, hot, and miserable. it’s especially miserable for jade and floyd because they can so clearly smell you and they want nothing more than to help you, but azul has forbidden them from laying so much as a finger on you when you’re indisposed. it’s azul who has access to the special room you’re kept in during your heats, and the door is adorned with many locks, all of which can only be unlocked by his magic, and he has an omega maid bring you your meals and anything else you might need.
azul has taken to controlling many aspects of your life, and you allow him to do so because you’re so blinded by love. it’s not fair for the twins, who have begun to fall for you and your enigmatic charms as the days progress. they will always remain overshadowed by azul unless, of course, they go against orders and claim you. :)
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Oh, oh, you know what I'd love to see some time? Kauri getting an electric shock from a domestic appliance or something. It doesn't need to be serious, we just know how much he hates getting shocked 👀
"You need a new toaster."
Jake looks up, rubbing a hand over his face, blinking where he sits on his bed in a pair of pajamas pants. Things are blurred and bleary, it's too early for this on one of the few days he doesn't have class. Still, though - he can't help but feel a little... happy, maybe, to hear Kauri's voice. "What...?"
"Your toaster's fucked up." Kauri has it in his hands, gripped white-knuckle tight. Jake reads in his appearance the story of his night - his hair is a mess of black curls, there's dark circles under the bright blue eyes, he's still wearing clothing he had on two days ago, the last time Jake saw him.
His shirt is on inside out. Whose cologne will be smell like if Jake gets close?
There's a twist of something odd and sharp in Jake's chest. "... Our toaster is fucked up?"
"Yeah. It... It's broken. It shocked me. When I plugged it in." Kauri dumps the toaster on the floor in Jake's room, and Jake winces as he watches ancient crumbs scatter everywhere as it tips on its side.
"... And you brought it up here because..."
"Because it's broken. You should get a new one. I wanted to tell you." Kauri's voice is short and sharp, Jake can see his eyes are a little too wide. He crosses his arms and Jake thinks it looks like he's hugging himself, trying not to be obvious about it. "It's a stupid toaster. It hurt me. It-... It shocked me, and-"
"Yeah. I'll handle it, I will. But, are you okay?"
"What?" Kauri looks... uncomfortable and surprised. "I'm fine."
"Yeah, but. You said it shocked you?" God, he's too tired to think. Jake leans into instinct instead. "Like electric shock?"
"Yeah. Just. A little one, but..."
Silence draws out between them. Jake rakes a hand back through his hair, and then pushes himself to his feet. If Kauri's eyes drop to Jake's bare chest down to his stomach and the waistband of his pants, Jake doesn't notice. Or he pretends not to, anyway. There's a Tshirt on the floor, and he pulls it on over his head. "Yeah, but... Still. Are you okay?"
"I'm not hurt-"
"That's not what I'm asking. Kaur, you used to be shocked, before. Even if you're not hurt..." He looks back down at Kauri. "That doesn't mean you're okay."
Kauri's smile fades for just a second - then it's back, but brittle this time. "I'm always okay."
"No, you're not. Kauri, I just wanted to know if you need to talk-"
"Absolutely the fuck not. I just came here to get some breakfast, not get trauma interrogations at six in the morning."
"I'm not interrogating you-"
"Then take 'i'm fine' for an answer for once."
Jake's mouth opens and then closes again.
Kauri's smile is small and vicious. "Like I said. Buy a new toaster."
"Kauri, just-"
Kauri disappears from the doorway and is halfway down the stairs before Jake can get out of his room.
"Kauri, wait-"
The front door closes and Kauri is gone.
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I know this is not really the place. But I’m putting this out there for the few people that will see this post
My homeland is under attack.
As of right now, 10/9/23, there are:
1500 Israeli deaths (and counting)
150+ hostages/missing (including infants and toddlers)
2000 Israeli injured (and counting)
560+ Palestinian/Gaza citizens dead
4000+ rockets fired (from hospitals, schools, and neighborhoods in the Gaza Strip toward Israel)
More Jewish people died on Saturday than any one day since the Holocaust.
I am Jewish. Israel is and always will be my home, even though I don’t actually live there. Please, do not turn away from this.
Educate yourself on the situation in as much depth as you can handle. Report and block bots posting “free palestine” and similar things.
This is not an issue of Israel-Palestine conflict. This is a direct attack on Jews, and nobody is safe from the horrors of Hamas and other terrorists. Not even Gaza/Palestine citizens are safe. Please, I beg you, no matter how you feel about Israel as a country… do not add to the hatred by celebrating and supporting terrorism. You can hate Israel, you can want a Palestinian state, you can disagree with whatever you want. But do not encourage senseless violence and murder and war crimes against me for simply existing.
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