#cryptid!au

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids 👽👻💚

[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 whatever prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

[Here's part one or whatever. If I feel like making more I'll make more and/or post it to ao333333.]

💚👻👽👻💚

The world is on fire, and Danny is burning.

The GAV is in shreds; wherever he’s crashed, there’s no way to determine up or down. He’s entombed in wreckage. Everything is on fire and everything burns, and it takes Danny all his strength to peel himself from where he’s contorted around the driver’s seat chair, to drag himself through the twisted metal and shards of glass with nothing but his hands and his tears.

He hurts.

It hurts so badly.

He crawls, because he can’t tell if he has legs or a tail right now, and is too afraid to find out he can’t walk by injuring one of his legs permanently. It’s hard to see through the smoke and the tears. He can’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe even if he wanted to.

There are instincts unique to being dead. Danny can’t tell up or down, and he can’t tell where he is or remember how he got here, but his core tugs him towards somewhere dark. Somewhere cool. Somewhere enclosed, even—even better, so Danny can curl up and sob in peace.

Danny wedges himself into a dark corner, curls himself up as much as he can, and lets himself drop into his core.

*

Something is touching him somethingistouchinghimsomethingistouchinghim—

Danny pops out of his core with a scream. No words. No coherency. Everything hurts, and all he can do is scream.

Someone is touching him. The thing touching him is body-shaped. Human-shaped. Danny screams higher, louder—some part of his hindbrain knows that if he screams for real then there won’t be a human but there will be guts and gore and blood, but Danny’s too tired to scream for real, and too weak. His scream is only enough to send the human sprawling back instead.

More humans take the place of the first. Danny keens, fights back a sob—when another tries to rouse him from his hiding spot with an exposed hand, Danny flashes his teeth.

The human flinches, but doesn’t go away.

Danny feigns a fanged bite. The figure jumps back. Good.

He’s too weak to run. He’s too weak to walk through the walls of his hiding spot and dart away. His visibility flickers—probably how a human found him in the first place. He’s so tired. Everything hurts. But if he looks dangerous and acts dangerous, maybe they’ll leave him alone. They have to leave him alone.

Please, please leave him alone.

They don’t.

There’s something in his face. Danny doesn’t recognize the shape immediately, but eventually something clicks: a loop on a stick is a catchpole. The strangers are trying to capture him.

He’s so afraid of something else around his neck. His whole body racks with shivers. He can’t run. He can’t bite. Please, please, please—

It doesn’t latch to his hand. It latches to his wrist.

Danny is only peripherally aware of being dragged onto his knees, of being dragged into a container. By the time the doors shut in around him, his mind is empty of anything that isn’t fear and pain, pain, pain.

He drops into his core.

*

Danny wakes up in a container.

It’s not the same container. But all containers are the same.

Danny screams. The soundwaves vibrate the glass until it shakes, slamming against the floor until cracks form in the concrete beneath him.

Still, no cracks form in the container. When he wails a second time, there’s no strength behind it. He just sobs.

He’s alone. He’s alone and he’s contained and no one is coming to get him. His transportation is in pieces. He’s injured and he’s scared. He’s so scared. Everything hurts. He wants to hide in his core and he wants to run away and he wants to slither through the wall and he doesn’t have the energy into any of it.

Danny curls up in a corner, hopes he’s left alone—or better, released—and hides.

He doesn’t know how much time passes before he hears a click.

…But he hears a click. Danny peeks open an eye.

There’s…food. He thinks it’s food, anyway. Oatmeal? It’s in a bowl and it’s beige and it’s on a tray on the ground.

Danny sniffs. …The last captors hadn’t offered him food. They hadn’t thought he’d had needs, or that they ought to feed him.

It’s a miserable, aching feeling when he thinks this is a step up.

There’s a flimsy plastic spoon on the tray. When Danny jumps on the bowl, devouring the contents as quickly as his body will let him, the spoon goes down the hatch with the gruel.

Danny falls back asleep in the far corner of the container miserable, cold, in pain, and injured. But he falls asleep full.

It’s a luxury to not be hungry.

*

There’s a click.

Danny ignores it. He’s not hungry. He’s sleepy. His body is trying to conserve calories and metabolize new ones. He doesn’t want to wake up.

The oatmeal goes uneaten.

*

There’s a click. Danny’s eyes crack open.

Apparently he’s been asleep for a while, because there are three bowls of uneaten oatmeal on the ground, waiting for him. All are in varying stages of crusting over.

Whatever. Free food. Danny wolfs it down anyway, and tucks himself back into his corner. He’s almost him-shaped again. His human traits are slowly returning, cell by cell, piece by piece. He can almost feel the fractures he knows he’ll have in his legs!

…Wait. Wasn’t his container opaque?

It’s…not anymore. The walls are clear. Danny can see—or, well, until he gets his eyes back, can sort of feel—the room around him, and the trace presences of the beings who occupy it.

It’s a lab. Danny knew it would be, but his core still drops down, down down. He had been praying he’d never see a live specimen lab ever again. He certainly hadn’t wanted to see yet another one from inside the cage.

Humans come and go from the lab. Most are in white coats and pants, but they’re not GIW. Or, well, they’re probably not GIW, anyway, considering that they’ve been feeding him. The guys in white never think of his needs, since they don’t care if he Ends or not. There are monitors that fuzz and warp in his not-vision with details he can’t make out on screen, but knows instinctively that the monitors pertain to him.

And to his capture.

There are some visitors in odd colored suits. They talk. The colorful ones don’t approach him, but they…watch.

No one approaches. Good. Danny will bite them if they do.

With the see-through window, Danny can see the bright-suited blob shove a tray of food through a slot in his container.

It doesn’t fall to the floor, though. There’s a little mechanical thing that brings the oatmeal and flimsy spoon to a safe rest on the steel floor.

…Alright. Bone appetite. Danny’s hungry, and food is food. He pours most of the bowl straight into his stretched mouth and scrapes the rest in with a spoon.

More of his wounds are sealing. Healing. His core doesn’t throb so horribly with pain. The cracks in his soul are smoothing out. With consistent food and rest, Danny will be able to actually mount an escape.

Good. Danny licks the flecks of meal from the edges of his mouth. Good.

When he naps, this time, it’s on purpose.

Soon he’ll be healed enough to leave.

*

The clear window doesn’t go away. Danny’s poor sight doesn’t improve, but he can see people come and go. Danny’s never truly left alone. There is always at least one brightly-colored human around (or one dark, silent human), and an assortment of white-coated scientists milling about.

The clear window lets them see him, presumably. If Danny wants to escape, he’ll have to be careful not to be seen.

Quietly, so quietly. Danny slo-o-o-owly amps up the resonance of his core.

There are cameras. There must be. There are always cameras. Disrupting the electrical flow in and around his container is essential to getting himself out of sight.

The lights flicker. The human milling about all flock to monitors, silent voices coming muffled through the see-though walls of the container. Danny reels in his resonance just a touch—whoops.

But no one is looking.

Something twinges in Danny. Well…no one is looking.

Very, very quietly, Danny peels a relatively safe amount of ectoplasm away from his core. A Danny-shaped shadow forms, and, yeesh, does he really look that bad?

Whatever. There’s no time.

Danny turns himself invisible. He slips through the walls of his container, and leaves the lab to explore the base.

[balloonboyismyson]

I CANNOT get Cryptid!Monty out of my head

[dragonkwest]

@naffeclipse

A meme for you that MOVES!

moon really do be eating those hearts tho

[pokemon-ash-aus]

Crypted

Tryna get back into the swings of drawing for fun so uh- there is gonna be some choppy af art in this instance XD

There was sipposed to be a question i was supposed to remember for this but i forgor so here’s a doodle instead

[raspberrighost]

Sometimes you’ve gotta find ur cryptid BF in the woods and give him a flower. 

[iamvegorott]

In the Cryptid AU, Night could be a something associated with the moon and stars. I don’t remember the name of it, but there’s a humanoid creature that comes out every night. Their hair is made of stars, their eyes hold the glow of the moonlight, and their clothes are made from the tides of the ocean.

Host happen to live next to where Night goes every time he comes out. He sort of took pictures and notes before he worked up the courage to speak to him. Ever since, Night and Host speak and take walks whenever he’s out.

Ooooo~~~

[iamfruitie]

Remember water spirit jj?

Wilford making love to him in the shallow end of the pond not caring about getting messy

JJ's clinging to Wilford as the water moved around them, nails digging into Wilford's back as he gasped out between sharp thrust of his hips

Wilford knows he's covered in the muck of the pond and doesn't give a damn as he got to listen to the music that was JJ's little sounds of pleasure

[spellboundcities]

I've spent pretty much all day drawing @xmaruu11 and @kitsuneisi 's DDVAU

(ft some posts edited from Maruu!! )

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.2

[Pt.1] [Pt.3] [Pt.4][Pt.5][Pt.6][Pt.7]

Danny dragged up another plastic wrapped body from the bay.

“It’s you. What are you doing?”

“Oh, holy smokes!” Danny screeched. “What-! Oh, it’s you! The litterer!”

Batman stood in front of Danny, cape draped around his shoulders and a far better sight to see than the last time Danny had seen the guy.

“… I’m Batman.” He introduced himself to Danny awkwardly.

“Uh huh. You missed a couple of things cleaning up the beach last time.” Danny dropped the body on the pebbled shore of the bay and crossed his arms. He sent Batman an unimpressed look. “You’re just like your city. There’s trash all over the water!”

Batman glanced down.

“That is a body.”

Danny scowled.

“No, that’s plastic. Plastic does not belong in the ocean.”

Batman sighed. For some reason, Danny thought he seemed less… antagonistic. Wait, did he think Danny killed the guy?!

“That is a body wrapped in plastic.”

Fuck it.

“If it was a body, then bury it. Or decompose it before you people decide to dump it into the water. Even the sharks have the decency to decompose when they’re dead. Do you know how long plastic takes to deteriorate??”

Batman glanced to the side, where the line of plastic wrapped masses had caught his eye to begin with.

“I do. Did all of these come from the bay?”

“Quite obviously, yes. I don’t have enough time to clean the waters! Ancients, it’s like they’re multiplying!” Danny knew why they were multiplying. It’s because Gothamites were getting murdered and dumped weekly. The problem is that Danny has classes and assignments to complete and he couldn’t be out here every week.

“I’ll handle it.”

“Oh, will you? And how do you plan on doing that when you couldn’t even properly clean the beach of your plane? I even stacked it up nicely for you to pick up!”

Alright, so maybe Danny had a couple of grudges. Like… a solid one that’s based on the hours of sleep he missed cleaning up after Batman and the wreck.

“We didn’t get everything?”

“No.” Danny huffed. “Whatever. Just figure out what to do with these bodies. I was not looking forward to digging graves for all of them.”

“You were going to dig graves for them?” Batman sounded off.

Danny scowled again. “I’m dead, genius.” And now Batman looked like someone ran over his dog. “Respecting the dead is important and graves are important for the dead. How else would we know we’re remembered?”

Danny threw up his hands. “Humans,” he muttered, like he wasn’t half human himself.

“Anyways, I’m leaving. Handle this properly or else I’m haunting you.”

“Wait-!” Batman said, but Danny had already disappeared.

So, while Batman had an angst crises at two thirty in the morning and thirty new unidentified corpses to contend with, Danny Fenton flew back to his apartment and passed out on his shitty couch.

——

“You need to stop.”

“Pay me to stop, then. What are your villains going to do? Kill me? I’d like to see them try.”

Danny looked Batman right in his lenses and plopped another body down at the man’s feet.

“I can tell you who they are for a fee.” Danny offered the vigilante. “Some of these still have shades of their souls attached still.”

“What.”

Danny tilted his head, moon once more lighting a halo of flickering white flames around his head. “$100 per identity.”

Batman stared.

[puppetmaster13u]

You know what I need more of? The Batkids completely fucking with the Justice League and their rogues and coming up with stories for their existence.

Like I am talking about the creation of demigods sort of stories, like Loki sort of stories.

Duke has convinced all of Gotham that he's the Bat Signal brought to life and that's why he's never seen at night and why the signal literally doesn't work during the day. He's waiting giddily for the story to spread outside of the city.

The batkids have convinced half the League that Nightwing is quite literally Batman's lovechild with Justice. Hey, Constantine had a one night stand with the manifestation of a city and they've dealt with gods before, so surely it's not that surprising? Right???

I need more of the Batkids being little shits, of Alfred the-greatest-enabler Pennyworth backing them up and Bat(the-biggest-troll)man to never confirm the stories, but he doesn't deny them either.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (IX)👽👻💚

[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 whatever prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWOis here PART THREEis here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here PART EIGHT is here and this is part nine 💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Wonder Woman has secured the coveted position as The Only Reliable Adult in the sore eyes of an injured half-ghost. World's saddest presumed-alien takes his meds on purpose for once. The author wrestles with Roman numerals.

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

💚👻👽👻💚

Danny is not in the container.

He very much doesn’t like the container.

The new lady and all the milling-about humans and his quickfast human have, however, encouraged him back to this room that looks just like the container's room, with one key difference. This one has a bathtub.

Danny touches the water.

It is too hot.

Danny does not want to go into the bathtub.

No one…no one is making him go in the bathtub. But everyone is gesturing, and making encouraging noises, and it makes Danny shrink into the sparse shadows of a partially-lit room, too afraid to get near the water, and too unhappy to cooperate.

It’s too hot. It smells funny in the way that cough drops and antiseptic tastes funny so it’s probably good for him, but Danny’s not a person and the water is too hot for him to put his core into.

The youngest human is so sad that it reverberates throughout the room, moaning and groaning and toying with Danny’s pull-toy fidget, which Danny is kindly letting it keep. It is laying on the floor. Danny does not have any feet for it to trip over right now, but Danny is hovering above it, so no one with a flesh body falls and hurts something when they trip.

Breaking bones hurts. Danny would know.

The new human lady tries to encourage Danny with his rocket ship. It doesn’t work. The bath is too hot even with the rocket ship in it. Danny wishes there was something he could use to change the temperature.

…He reaches over the side of the tub. Danny swishes a finger around in the water.

Nope. Still too hot.

Okay. Danny needs… Something. He needs. Something.

He quietly removes himself from the most familiar human and just…floats around the room. It is mostly bare. There is space for lots of humans to work with lots of technology to make things happen, but the room is mostly empty right now, except that it has a whole bunch of humans and Danny in it.

There isn’t anything helpful in this room. Danny goes to the next room.

(The new human lady follows behind.)

The next room has…the container. Danny hisses when he sees it.

No one does anything.

…Okay. Danny slides further into the room. No one is making him go in. Okay. He can…explore.

There are other things in the room. Danny can’t tell what all of them are, so he just starts opening things. He finds stuff made of wood and cotton. He rips something small in half, and a bandage falls out. He sticks a wet wipe in his mouth before he realizes it’s a wet wipe—that one drops out of his mouth and onto the floor. It tastes so bad.

The human makes a sad noise that might be a laugh too, but Danny can’t interpret now. He’s on a mission. He has more important tasks to finish.

There are more rooms with more things and Danny keeps looking. He finds towels and medical robes in cabinets and machines that do things that Danny can’t tell and tubes of all sorts and packages of medication Danny can’t eat. He keeps opening doors and looking inside and closing them because none of them help.

…There’s some white packets inside of clear plastic wrap. Danny can’t tell what they are. Is this something that he can use? Will it help?

Danny flexes his comeherelookitthis aura with a curl of his tail, and the human buzzes to attention in Danny’s current room.

Danny hands him the pouch.

The human does something to it. The crinkly-shiny wrapper falls to the floor. The human makes a noise, the packet creaks ominously, and the human holds out its hands so that Danny can take the packet back.

He takes it back.

Danny immediately drops the packet back to the floor because it’s hot!!!! Ugh!!!! If he had known that the package was one of the hot packets, he wouldn’t have bothered!

He floats elsewhere into the room, sulking. He opens more cabinets and doesn’t close them after. He—

Wait.

—Danny feels out with a hand. It’s…cold inside.

Danny shoves his face into the cabinet. There’s no food, just little vials, but yes! Cold! He shoves a hand inside and roots around, even though he is also trying not to crush or break the little vials. The white-coated humans don’t get close or try to get him, but they do make sad noises. Danny hummmmms an apology. But—

Out of the fridge comes squishy packs. There is nothing in them but squishy wet material. They are only cold.

Perfect!

Danny grabs as many as he can with his hands and one in his teeth and his teeth tear through the plastic a little and he kind of tastes the goo inside (gross!), but he has armfuls of cold packs and they are all very good at being cold packs.

The buzzing human comes back to find him and laugh, laugh, laugh all the way through the soft layers of the universe, but Danny doesn’t care, and also he needs it to show Danny where the bathtub is again so he can go sit in the gross medicine water. He might be a little lost.

Thankfully, once Danny stops moving and just stands around, it does. Great!

The lady is still there with the rest of the humans. Whatever. Danny spits the cold pack in his mouth into the bathtub and medicine water probably goes everywhere, but he can’t tell and doesn’t care. The rest of his pile he dunks into the tub by himself.

Now. Danny sticks an arm in the water.

It’s…better. Not so warm. Danny could probably tolerate it now. He doesn’t want to, sure, but he’s also covered in his own waste products and hasn’t cleaned anything in ages and ages and who knows how long. So probably washing out his insides in uncomfortably warm water and a little bit of cold pack medium is better than, uh…not doing that.

Danny slides carefully into the bathtub. Gross. The water is gross. Also it smells bad. Wait. Could he smell before?

He sniffs again. His hands slide through the water, and Danny has to work not to make himself intangible so that he doesn’t get wet. Getting wet is the point right now. He brings one of the cold packs a little bit closer to his body, the cool water radiating from it, and gently splashes water onto his abdomen.

Danny can’t exactly tell where and how he’s injured, and this form hides his wounds even from himself. Still, he remembers…he remembers most of the bad things. Being pinned down. The restraint bruises.

The bright lights.

The…scalpels…

When the human lady is suddenly at his side again, Danny flinches back into invisibility. She doesn’t yell at him for disappearing, or pull out a weapon to punish him.

She has ice packs in her soft flesh hands. One by one, without looking where Danny is hiding in thin air, she drops them into the bath, cooling it further.

…Danny quietly slithers back out of the shadows. The woman makes a quiet noise, and then she leaves the side of the tub.

He doesn’t know how to respond. He continues to wash himself by gently splashing water on his torso. There’s organs under there he’s gotta clean. Probably. If not, he ought to wash anyway.

Huh. There’s no soap here. Can he get soap? Maybe the weird water is supposed to be the soap. Bathwater doesn’t exactly lather, though.

Whatever. Danny washes everything from his sore scalp to his largely-nonexistent toes/tail. The water turns a filthy, corroded black-brown. Danny doesn’t even ask if the white-coated humans want anything to do with the water; he doesn’t want to see them, and this is nasty. 

He pulls the stopper out. The water goes down. Danny watches it drain.

…Okay. So. They’re on the moon. Where does his gross water go? Danny hopes they don’t recycle it. A base full of mostly-humans probably doesn’t know how to filter ectoplasm out of the water supply. Or, depending on what they know or don’t know, they might not even know they have to.

Do they know what Danny is?

Danny hopes they don’t. Maybe they would give him back to the lab if they did.

…He doesn’t want to think about that. He wants another bath. Danny fusses with the taps by the bathtub long enough that the human lady comes back, with her fully articulated fingers that can grasp and twist and pull.

This time Danny gets cold water, which he likes. He doesn’t like that she’s so close, but he appreciates the help. The tub fills, and Danny washes again, and the lady comes back with a very soft towel that Danny wants to add to his bedding.

Danny definitely pushes the towel through his body a few times. It’s mostly to get the most water off of his body as possible, even though the human woman keeps her attention on him as he does.

He doesn’t relinquish the wet towel.

The woman holds her hands out for it.

…Danny scoots a little further back. It’s a nice towel. He wants it on his cot so that the sheets don’t absorb as much waste ‘n blood ‘n stuff.

One of the other humans in white walks forward, and Danny pushes himself as far back as he can go. It ignores him. It hands a second towel to the human lady with the red colors, and walks away.

The human lady turns back to Danny. She holds out her hand and a fresh towel, not suffused with contaminated medicine water.

…Kay. Danny can do Tradesies.

Danny gets a new towel, is nice and dry, and roams invisibly back to his cot.

The sheets are all nice and new when he gets there. The humming human’s little friends are all there, chatting and toying with Danny’s stuff. Hey!

He makes the head and his chest sticking through the ceiling visible to human eyes, and he hisses. They scatter quickly. It’s a little funny—he’s not actually mad at them, but they can’t tell, since they can’t hear the little tones in his core. Danny drops to float over his cot, lays down the towel, wraps himself in it, and puts his things back into his bed.

It’s kind of like having a grave. It’s nice and cozy.

When the small humans poke their heads out from behind the curtain again, Danny purrs so that they know he’s laughing at them.

If they fuss, that’s their fault. Danny pulls his rocket ship into his pillows, finds a stretch toy that’s easy to chew on, and eases himself onto his cot for a nap.

[sapphicseasapphire]

No thoughts, just Cryptid Wild.

[dragonkwest]

Hey @naffeclipse! *throws some fic memes at you*

I’m just making these as I come up with them, so be prepared for more:)

[pokemon-ash-aus]

wait... WAIT... Remember when Damien asked if Delia was part Jolteon? What if Delia is a Cryptid of that?

I was thinking on it and i decided that yeah, Delia is defo a cryptid XD

She’s a lot smaller than her son and people often mistake her as a Jolteon. But her sole purpose is to protect pokemon. She’s not like Ash and she can’t heal. But when a Pokemons in danger and she’s close by? She protec and attack.

Her wings are sharp and will shock anyone that touches it.

[raspberrighost]

Spending a day curled up with your Cryptid bf lazing in bed and teaching them little human things sounds like the perfect date to me. 

[iamvegorott]

Nights scared of ducks? May he never meet cryptid au jj and his duck children

JJ uses his children to get Night to leave them alone if he's trying to have a date XD