Chapter Text
1 + 0
The morning had started slower than usual. It was 7am and Flug was curled up in bed, longing for the sweet release of a morning nap. He rolled over and came face
to face with a grinning Black Hat who pressed the button to open his bed as Flug leapt upright.
“Boss!” He croaked, coughing to clear the sleep from his throat, then, “what do you need so early on a Saturday?”
“Doctor, I find myself needing help with an exciting new commercial!” Black Hat leaned closer as Flug cringed away, “Will you lend a hand?” Black Hat purred, looking
dreadfully refreshed for someone who’d probably been up all night conjuring up the most humiliating role for Flug in the ad. Flug hadn’t even invented anything
recently.
“Doctor?” Black Hat prompted,
“...Ah, yes sure I’ll help.”
“Brilliant! I’ll be expecting you shortly,” Black Hat finished, before he was gone just as soon as he appeared. Flug placed a hand over his thundering heart and shook
his head with a laugh. For someone so dangerous, he was as needy as an orphan calf; demanding Flug at all hours of the day. Even on Saturdays. Even when Flug
technically wasn’t on the clock. Or in his pajamas.
Flug dragged himself out of bed and waddled over to his closet. He was feeling slightly lightheaded. Really lightheaded actually. He began unbuttoning the front of
his sleeping shirt and shucked it onto the floor. He was also feeling queasy, like the room was warping around him. He lifted a shaking hand in front of his face, and
nearly jumped out of his skin, as his fingers disappeared one by one. Once the fingers were gone, next was his hand, then his forearm, then his legs, then he was
gulped up by the ether and deposited in a heap of limbs on Black Hat’s carpet. In pieces. Without a shirt.
Black Hat was sitting poised above his desk. He looked wired, too twitchy to sit down. His physical body dissolved into shadow, and Flug yelped as a cool boot
nudged his disembodied torso. His parts reordered themselves, then re-merged with a sickening shick. Flug fought back the urge to deposit his dinner on the ruby
carpet, but lifted himself off the floor, to sit crisscross applesauce below Black Hat. The entity in question was looking increasingly impatient, his clawed hands
drummed on the desk, quickly dissolving into shadow as he rematerialized behind Flug. A talon tugged him up to his feet, then to their typical filming set behind a
sheer curtain. A sheet of paper with nearly illegible writing on it was placed into his palm as Black Hat
“So you’ll introduce the product itself with all your…” He floundered for a word that’d capture Black Hat’s… essence, without being defenestrated.
“My charm perhaps?”
“Yes, that, then I’ll follow up with the technical explanation?”
“Quite right Doctor.”
Flug cast his eyes around the room, searching for whatever device had sparked Black Hat’s ‘brilliant idea.’ His gaze landed upon the shrink ray. From four months
ago. He’d been pulled out of bed, without a shirt, wearing plane covered pants, for a badly selling shrink ray. But he did look truly excited, his teal teeth were bright
and sharp, but his posture was open, and he was leaning slightly towards Flug.
“Okay.”
“Shall we begin?”
∼ ∼ ∼ ∼ ∼
Black Hot, the muscular and badder version of Black Hat, was sat on the leather bench in his gym, facing the TV. It was blaring some rubbish, rom-com, sit-com
type thing. He was bicep curling 200lbs, absently watching the sinuous muscles undulate and flex with every repetition. The audio and screen glitched, then went
staticky and dark, before displaying the logo of his inferior counterpart. The black top hat flickered in and off, and Black Hot set down his dumbbells with a dull
thud as Black Hat materialized on his screen.
“Greetings fellow villains,” He crowed,
“I come to you to speak of another of Black Hat Inc’s devilish inventions: The Hero Shrinker 1000.” A pale hand lifts the ray into the camera view, and Black Hat’s smile grows.
“For all your evil needs, the Hero Shrinker will be your greatest asset.”
Black Hat bumped the handout of the frame, as a ball of knitted shadow burst in front of Black Hat, displaying a few jars full of colorful little bugs.
“You see, shrunken heroes make the most perfect decoration.”
The camera was shakily zoomed in, and the bugs became tiny, costumed humans, banging desperately on the glass jars. Black Hot squinted desperately, trying to
identify any of the panicked faces. The camera panned, and he was flashed with a pallid torso. Black Hot’s entire being cringed away from the thin weakness of the
man, before the camera rattled up to focus on his bare thin shoulders and bagged head. Oh. It was Dr Flex. But unflexed. And naked. And unflexed.
Black Hot’s brain was firing on all cylinders, steam pouring from his ears as he worked to make sense of this. Dr. Unflexed was pointing at parts of his gun,
speaking using ridiculously complicated words like ‘barrel’ and ‘trigger,’ seemingly oblivious to his undressed state. Black Hat also seemed oblivious, or maybe just
used to it? Black Hot picked up his weights again. It was none of his business what went on in Black Hat’s personal life, but surely if his counterpart had a
relationship with his Doctor, Black Hot would be compatible with the more muscular Doctor? Either way, if Black Hat had deemed his doctor exciting enough to
taste, then it truly was meant to be.
2 + 0
Late one night in a time of great and terrible need, Penumbra makes her way to the Black Hat headquarters to meet with Black Hat himself. Since Sunblast’s defeat,
she’d be feeling dreadfully unfulfilled. All heroes and heroines were wary of her and her partnership with Black Hat, so every conflict ended in a forfeit or with the
hero simply fleeing. She must find a new archenemy.
With this purpose in mind, she entered the Black Hat Industries’ campus. The grounds were quiet and still. She could sense the hum of the security system lurking
below the dry soil. She wiped her boots off on the carpet inside the first double doors and straightened her lab coat. She had to be incredibly careful how she came
off to Black Hat; if he thought her too desperate or even worse, ungrateful she’d be wiped off the earth without a trace.
Yes, she had to be smart. She’d start with an acknowledgement of Black Hat’s help, then, she’d speak broadly of a villain’s purpose. Finally, she’d pose her search
for a brave hero as a favor for Black Hat. Help to exterminate the hero population. It was perfect.
By the time she’d reached Black Hat’s door, she was ready. Penumbra set her shoulders, knocked sharply on the door, then pressed it open. Only to leap back out,
door slamming behind her and Black Hat’s sharp blue teeth burning into her mind, and he whipped his head around. With no time to process what she saw, the
door cracked open again, and Black Hat himself was looming above her. His tie was loosened, with a few buttons undone and dark circles sat uncharacteristically
below beaded eyes. Penumbra couldn’t help but lean backwards, away from the snarling face, but Black Hat seemed to shrink a little, then:
“Doctor Penumbra, how may I help you at such a late hour?”
“...Uh, I have a favor to ask of you.” Dammit, she’d ruined her plan the second she opened her mouth. Typical. Black Hat perked up at the promise of a deal.
“A favor? How bold considering your soul is already in my possession.”
Penumbra gulped, “Yes, a favor.”
“Well, why don’t you come in and we can discuss?”
The vision of Black Hat leaning over some sort of document, with her good friend Doctor Flug sat perched on the desk in front of him, cowed in the way he usually
is. Barely an inch apart. The way Black Hat had jumped away told her enough, as did Flugsly’s flinch.
“Perhaps another time,”
“I insist.” Well then. Black Hat swung the door open, and Penumbra stepped in. Black Hat dematerialized, then rematerialized behind his desk. Penumbra and Dr
Flugsly locked eyes, and he brightened in recognition. He gave her a little wave, which she ignored, instead averting her eyes as Black Hat nudges the Dr off the
desk. He lands ungainly, squeaks a little, then scuttled out.
“Now,” Black Hat interrupts, “What sort of favor do you need from me?”
∼
Later, Penumbra sends Dr Flug the first message since his birthday.
Doctor Flugsly:
You:
Good to see you today, how are you? Call me if you need any sort of help, no matter the time I’ll be there for you. ,
Doctor Flugsly:
Nice to see you well, I’m all good? Thanks for the kind words though, it feels nice with someone having my back for once :)
Okay, so he was being secretive. No wonder, but it made her wonder, what really was going on between them.
3 + 0
Flug had masterfully completed yet another task for Black Hat industries. The hero he’d been chasing was called Rublixlaugh, and strangely, had burst into a pile of
unsolved Rubik’s cubes on his defeat. Black Hat was due to warp them back for the report any minute. Any minute now. And yes, that pulling on the depths of his
soul was Black Hat’s wicked magic working it’s… magic.
And soon he and Demencia and 5.0.5 and the bundle of Rubik’s cubes were splat out onto Black Hat’s worn carpet.
“Doctor, may I speak to you without the rabble?”
Demencia hung her head and trudged out, 5.0.5 just waved goodbye to Flug. Then they were alone. Black Hat had deposited a cube onto his own desk, and as his
stared down at Flug, he fiddled with it, turning it over and studying the mismatched cubes. Flug grabbed one too, then:
“Now Doctor, I have an idea,”
“For a commercial?”
“A product in fact,” Flug turned the cube over in his hands, and felt it heat up and shake a little. Huh.
“So, I was thinking,” Black Hat continued, turning the top quarter of the cube clockwise, when it let out a shrill whistling sound and Flug’s vision went black.
=
Flug awoke to a pool of drool on his shoulder, and a wet spot in the front of his bag. He sits up slowly, and nearly jumps out of his skin. Black Hat it is lying flat on
his front, his chest isn’t rising at all and he’s smoking slightly. His hat is half off, revealing a shiny bald head and-
“Doctor, where am I?” came a muffled croak from when Black Hat lay.
“Uh…” Flug took his first look around and took in the scenery. Or lack of. There was a thick fog that covered everything within two yards, with gnarled branches and
wilted leaves protruding out of the blankness.
“I’m not sure.”
There was a little glass vial on the grass above Black Hat’s head, and Flug gently grabbed it, flipping over the worn tag, to where the words ‘Drink We” are written.
“There’s a thing that says, ‘drink we,’” Black Hat lifted his head and squinted at the bottle.
“It says ‘drink me’ you imbecile, it’s cursive.” Then pulls his hand beneath his torso and pushes himself up. Flug turned bright red and muttered a brief “sorry boss.”
He noted the oddness of watching Black Hat operate without the typical smoke and mirrors type display. His limbs seemed particularly long when folded and used
rather than hanging like decorative sausages at his sides. Scary sausages of course. Which were reaching towards the vial, then opening the cork.
“Boss, don’t you think we should ignore the-”
“Nonsense Doctor,” And then the half of the vial had disappeared down his throat.
“But we don’t know-” and he’s cut off by Black Hat pinching his nose, then tipping the rest of the vial into his mouth once he gasped for air.
“You worry too much Doctor. If the vial said, ‘drink me,’ surely it’s meant to be drunk.”
“That’s terrible logic!” And indeed, Black Hat was fading in and out of his spinning vision. Flug clutched his stomach as the scenery warped. A loud sound snapped
him out of the haze of nausea, and he let out a loud belch, partly relieving the pressure on his stomach. Black Hat was smoking again, and in his blurred vision,
Black Hat appeared much… Larger than usual.
“Doctor, we seem to be at some sort of gathering,” Flug opened his eyes, (he didn’t even remember closing them) and gawked at the setting. Black Hat was taking
up more space. Because he was wearing a ballgown. And so was Flug. A big white one, a mockery of his usual lab coat. Black Hat’s was unsurprisingly black. On the
table in front of him sat a little flowery tea set, and a big white rabbit with a top hat eerily similar to Black Hat’s black hat and a checkered waistcoat.
“Folks!” The rabbit squeaked, clapping two white paws together in excitement, “It is an honor to have you attend my humble party, I have been waiting for you ever
so patiently.” He pulled a pocket watch from somewhere in his checkered attire and tapped it, beady eyes fixed on Black Hat.
“So Rabbit, what is the nature of this place?” Black Hat asked, such an icy tone Flug starts shivering. The rabbit pauses for a long while, and Black Hats’ hand moves
to his sternum, which the rabbit notes then nods. Perhaps they were having some sort of telepathic conversation. Well above Flug’s clearance anyways.
“This place is everywhere yet nowhere, powerful yet null,”
“Oh wonderful, he’s a loony.” Huh, maybe Black Hat was just as lost as he was.
“How do we get back?” Flug asks, but the rabbit has pulled his pocket watch out again, and is frantically muttering “oh dear, oh dear, late again!” - as responsive as a cement floor apparently.
Flug glanced at Black Hat for guidance, but he seemed more occupied with tugging at the square neckline of his dress.
A crazy, rash idea had begun to form in Flug’s mind. He was getting desperate. They’d been away from the real world for however long, and the talking rabbit was
obviously psychotic. Flug rose from his seat, took a step, then immediately trod on the front of his dress, causing it to pull awkwardly at his front. The rabbit had
risen too and was fixated on the ticking hands of his watch, completely oblivious as Flug crept closer and closer, skirt pulled around his ankles and tucked into a
conveniently placed ribbon. Flug made a desperate leap after the suddenly departing rabbit, catching his shoulders, and pulling him to the ground.
“Stop it,” the rabbit grunted, Flug used his forearm to pin the rabbit’s neck to the ground as he dug through suspiciously damp pockets, only to be interrupted by a
firm kick to the stomach.
“Oof, hey!” Those fluffy paws were scrambling to get away, but Flug latched onto an ankle, and rag dolled until the rabbit became tired by frenzies kicking. Flug
knelt, and dug into his breast pocket, where a tiny unsolved Rubik’s cube sat. The rabbit grunted as Flug pushed him away and darted back to Black Hat, who’d
finally managed to walk a few steps, then twisted the Rubik’s cube. Unlike last time, the cube opened in the middle, and engulfed the two. Transporting them
through time and space before depositing them in a heap on Black Hat’s floor.
Flug was facedown, and Black Hat was sprawled across his shoulders, crushing the air from his lungs with a supernatural weight. There was a moment where neither
of them moved, dizzy from the journey and tired from the ‘drink me’ vial. He is now pretty sure it wasn’t even a magical concoction, some form of sedative, maybe
even just hard liquor. Either way, his head was thumping from something other than the lack of air and motion sickness. The door swung open with a creak, and the
two jumped apart, or rather Black Hat warped to behind his desk and Flug wiggled a little. Demencia was standing in the doorway, mouth open in shock as she took
in their attire and ruffled appearance. Black Hat changed back into his regular suit with a puff of smoke, but the damage was already done. Demencia’s eyes welled
with tears, and she sniffled slightly as she turned to leave.
“Sorry boss, I hadn’t realized you were busy.”
And slammed the door behind her. Flug craned his neck to look at Black Hat who was smiling just as wide as ever. Except… The smile was blue as ever, but the
corners of his mouth were tipped downwards, and his brow was furrowed. He looked angry. And those eyes were burning with whatever ungodly fire Black Hat
possessed. And he seemed to be growing in that odd way of his. Oh wait, no he was just getting closer.
“Good trip boss, I’ll be off now!” Flug squeaked, and swiftly walked to the door, fumbling with the doorknob and trying to ignore the oppressive presence behind him.
Well, that was quite something.
3 + 1
Since the Rubik’s cube incident, Flug hasn’t heard from Black Hat in days. Not even to yell at the poor doctor for poor sales or bad customer reviews. It was odd. Very odd.
Demencia still wasn’t talking to him, he’d tried to explain it wasn’t a fun trip and she had no reason to have wanted to go with them, but she’d just huff and make a
grab for his valuables. So, when 5.0.5 returned from Black Hat’s office in tears, saying Flug was needed, he was almost relieved. Almost.
When he walked in, Black Hat had the curtain to his recording area pulled back, and had a tripod disassembled on the floor.
“Ah, Doctor, just who I was after. I find myself needing your expertise.”
“For the tripod?”
“No, I’ll handle the tripex just fine, I need your acting.”
Now this gave Flug pause. Once, Black Hat had Flug play a victim of a popular gun, and Flug was not inclined to repeat that experience. Not that Black Hat was likely
to give him a choice though.
“You still have your gown from Wednesday?”
His gown? Oh right, “Yes, it’s in my cupboard somewhere, but why-”
“Go get it.” Right. Flug tottered out of the office, all the way back to his room, grabbed his gown and returned. The tripod was suspiciously absent.
“Now put it on.”
“Why?”
“Now.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll put it on,”
Then, “Stand in front of the camera.”
These orders were getting concerning. Flug was scared for his dignity and safety.
“Now introduce this potion and pretend to slip it into this glass.”
The glass in question was a dusty silver chalice, and Flug sent a questioning look, but Black Hat had already started rolling. The familiar charismatic smile spread
across his harsh face, and Flug couldn’t help but shy away from him as he took the bottle, and stupidly mimed tipping it into the chalice. Shame heated his face.
And he mentally checked out, letting his body tell the story more convincingly than his bagged face or reedy voice could.
Later, Flug sat curled in front of the TV, tea in hand and watched whatever silly program played at 8pm on a Saturday. The screen popped in and out of static, and
Flug bashed the remote, powering on and off, trying to fix whatever was going on, but the screen faded to Black, then a black top hat appeared. The hat made way
for Black Hat from earlier, smiling and irritated, panning to himself, bowed demurely in a ridiculously poofy dress.
“The poison is completely undetectable! You can slip it into any-”
His voice rings through the empty room, uncanny, especially with such a strange visual. Flug can barely look at himself, he looks pathetic, like some sort of twisted
bride. There was truly no need to put him in it, other than to humiliate him. Actually, their outfits were sort of coordinated. Black Hat’s suit and waist coat, Flug’s
flowing white dress…
“Oh my god it looks like we’re getting married.”
And all of a sudden everything clicked.
Demencia’s tearfulness wasn’t because she thought they went on a fun adventure, she thought they were going on a date! And all the domestic violence resources
Penumbra has been sending him have been because she thinks Black Hat was beating him! In a relationship way!
And, Oh lord, the first TV commercial. He hadn’t even thought of watching it back. He pulls his phone from his pocket and nearly drops it but manages to pull up
Black Hat industries’ archive ads. One with a sword, one with a freeze ray, one showing a naked man, him! The angle was in such a way that his bare torso and
sleep-rumpled hair were the only things visible.
He squeals in embarrassment and throws his phone away on the couch. Imagine how many heroes and villains, colleagues even that had seen him in such a state!
Oh lord, imagine what they must think; then him and... Black Hat! Oh no.
He curls up on the couch and rocks away his mounting anxiety attack, and that’s where 5.0.5 finds him, five hours later, still shaking and paranoid. When 5.0.5
pries, Flug just wails in shamefaced despair.