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snarkybluechristian · 5 years ago

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Villainous: Reform School Chapter 20

Melanie laid on her bed admiring the rosary Ochocinco slipped to her. It was a simple rosary, a metal crucifix with red beads, but elegant nonetheless. She couldn’t believe her driver had given her something so precious to him.

Melanie felt her hope rise. The rosary felt like a sign from heaven letting her know that she was being rooted for and that even if she fell, she would be lifted up again.

The door creaked open just then, and Melanie quickly hid her rosary under her pillow, fearing that it would be taken from her.

To her relief, it was 505 who entered the room.

“Oh, 505!” Melanie said in relief. “What are you doing here? Did you get out of doing your chores so you could hang out with me?”

505 nodded happily.

“Sweet!” Melanie exclaimed. “Do you want to play some of the videogames I have on my console?”

505 nodded vigorously, shut the door behind him just as a group of Hat robots went to finish cleaning up the dining room, and merrily skipped over to the bed to play some videogames with Melanie.

After a few hours of playing videogames, Melanie reluctantly made herself enter the bathroom to get ready for bed while 505 continued playing videogames.

As soon as she stepped out of the bathroom wearing a purple tank top and blue-striped pajama slacks to sleep in, Melanie heard a knock on the door.

“Hey, Melanie,” Flug’s voice called out from the other side. “Are you in there? It’s me.”

Melanie rolled her eyes. She dreaded what was coming as she pulled on her blue denim slippers and reluctantly made her way across the room to open the door.

When Melanie opened the door, she saw Flug standing there with a bottle of pills in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.

“Good evening, Melanie,” Flug said. “I’m here to announce that it’s time for you to go to bed…”

“Thanks,” Melanie replied with heavy sarcasm. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

Melanie then attempted to shut the door.

Flug stopped the door from closing with his shoe and added, “And, to give you what your parents and I agreed upon.”

Melanie crossed her arms and said, "Which is...?”

“Your new medication to help you sleep,” Flug said smugly.

Melanie sighed and said, “Fine, hand it over.”

Flug twisted open the lid, picked up a pill, and handed the tablet to Melanie along with the water bottle.

Melanie stood there expecting Flug to leave, but he stood there waiting.

Melanie struggled to keep her composure. She wanted to break down and cry at the stress she was feeling. Melanie refused to cry in front of this crazy scientist, but he wouldn't leave until she actually swallowed the pill.

So, with a heavy heart, Melanie put the pill in her mouth and drank the water to swallow it down.

“Thank you,” Flug said cheerfully. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

With that, Flug stepped back and shut the door.

Melanie walked back over to her bed and sat down. She didn’t feel any different yet.

505 sat down next to Melanie and gave her a hug to help her feel better.

Melanie looked up at the bear and hugged him back feeling warm in his loving embrace.

“Hey, 505?” Melanie asked. “Do you want to watch videos on my phone with me?”

505 nodded happily as he scooped Melanie into his arms and settled himself in the middle allowing his back to rest against the bedframe and Melanie to get snug in his lap as she pulled up videos on her phone to watch.

It was only gradually that Melanie began to feel sleepy. It snuck up on her so slowly that she didn’t know how drowsy she was until she was struggling to keep her eyes open 20 minutes later.

Without warning, Flug opened the door and asked in surprise, “How are you still awake?!”

“I’m not tired enough to fall asleep yet,” Melanie replied. “So, what? This video we’re watching is really interesting.”

Flug snatched the phone from Melanie’s hands to notice that Melanie and 505 were watching an animated music video of what looked like two imps singing a love song.

“That’s…surprising…” Flug said as he laid the phone on the bedside table and plugged it into its charger connected to the nearby outlet out of Melanie’s immediate reach.

“Hey!” protested Melanie struggling to sit up on top of 505. “I was watching that.”

“You can watch it again in the morning,” Flug replied annoyedly. “Now, 505, tuck Melanie into bed and let’s go.”

505 looked at Melanie as gently as a mother looked at her baby. Then, as gently as possible, he picked her up, stood up, and tucked Melanie snugly into bed before turning to follow his Dad.

However, before 505 could walk away, Melanie grabbed his paw and said, “Wait! Dr. Flug, c-can he stay until I fall asleep?”

Flug sighed and said, “I suppose. 505, find me when you’re done.”

Flug shut the door behind him as 505 sat down on the floor next to the bed, rested his tired head next to Melanie’s, and held her hand.

“Awww!” Melanie said drowsily. “Awww! You’re like a giant teddy bear. God bless you.”

Finally, when Melanie had fallen asleep, 505 got off the bed, rubbed Melanie's head, crept out of the room, and gently shut the door behind him.

To his surprise, Flug was waiting there in the hall.

“Daddy is very proud of you, 505,” Flug said. “You’re doing an amazing job looking after Melanie.”

505 smiled contentedly as he and his Dad started walking down the hall.

“But I need to ask you something,” Flug asked immediately getting 505’s attention. “Daddy is going to keep needing your help to help Melanie become a villain. She doesn't like me, Black Hat, or Dementia. She's also very unhappy right now. She doesn't want to listen to us or even be here, but she loves you and will listen to you. So, we need you to keep an eye on her to be sure she's doing what she needs to do. If Melanie is not taking her medicine or doing something she's not supposed to, I need you to tell me even if Melanie wants you to keep it a secret. Okay?”

505 stopped and gave Flug a confused glance.

Flug sighed deeply and said, "Buddy, I know she's your friend, but Melanie needs our help. She just doesn't understand it yet. Melanie has a brain that needs medicine to work properly, so she has trouble understanding why she needs to behave and why she needs to listen. I need you to help me take care of her. Okay?”

505 thought for a second before enthusiastically nodding his head.

“Thanks, 505,” Flug said affectionately giving 505 a big hug. “I knew I could rely on you.”

#Villainous #villainousfanfiction

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villainousimagines · 6 years ago

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Hey, sorry this isn’t art. I’m not as good at drawing as I am writing, but I hope you enjoy. Sorry this isn’t edited

Black Hat

Warmth, softness, and silk, this was your new morning experience every day since you had found out you were pregnant.

It had been a not so good day for you. Hunger, anger, nausea had been bearing down on you since you woke up. You snapped at everyone and anyone who came close to you, had to run to the bathroom at least four times to puke, and had eaten enough to kill you, it sucked. You had thought you had come down with an extremely potent virus, so you went to see Dr. Flug.

He wasn’t a medical doctor, but he had to know something about your affliction. You talked to him for a good ten minutes until he called for 505 to run out to the store to buy something. Medicine, you immediately assumed. Good riddance, the faster you could be back to normal, the better.

It wasn’t medicine though, 505 came back with a little pink box. He handed it to you and Dr. Flug instructed you on what to do.

Now, you weren’t as smart as Dr. Flug, but you knew when things were ridiculous. Pregnant? Hah! Yeah, right! You and Black Hat were different species, there was no way you both had any type of compatibility. You tried to tell Dr. Flug this, but he wouldn’t listen.

“Just go do it.” He said. Fine, you would. You were gonna show him that you were right.

You were wrong. The test came back positive. Heh, it was probably just a defective good. You brought it out about to tell him that, but 505 shoved another box in your hand. The bear gave you a knowing look.

Whatever you thought and did the test again…. positive.

You went back out and 505 kept handing you more boxes. Again and again and again, positive, positive, positive.

….Fuck.

You didn’t know what you were gonna tell Black Hat. How could this have happened? An Eldritch and human shouldn’t be able to conceive at all.

You sat catatonic in the lab for hours until Black Hat found you. He called out to you several times until you finally acknowledged him. Garbled words and a fuzzy face was all you could comprehend from him. You stared at him trying to bring yourself together and remembering why you were like this.

“Pregnant.” tumbled out from your lips as it all clicked together.

You could clearly see his face now and it was frozen in shock.

“…What?” Fell limply from his lips.

“Pregnant.” You repeated numbly. “I’m… pregnant.”

You looked up at him and grabbed his face softly. Tears pricked at the edge of your eyes as joy welled up in your chest.

“I’m pregnant!!”

His face broke out into a huge smile. Beaming, he picked you up and laughed happily as he spun you around. You laughed with him and hugged him when he let you down.

Neither of you said anything, but you both knew the other was ecstatic.

That had been a nice end to a shitty day and from then on, he was inseparable from your side. No one was allowed to be close to you, look at you, acknowledge you.

You were to be protected, which brought you back to the present.

You were laying down on your shared bed, cuddled up under several blankets and Black Hat’s arms. He was looking fondly at you as you scooted closer to him. He grabbed at your back and pulled you even closer.

He was gonna protect you and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Dr. Flug

Ever since he found out you were pregnant, Dr. Flug has been more frazzled and stressed than ever. During work, he tinkers endlessly on the commissions needed for the customers. During his free time, he builds and plans religiously for the upcoming baby. His first completed project was a collapsible room for you to rest in while he works, so he could keep an eye on you. Others were security stuffed animals that could take down any threats to the baby, indestructible blankets, tracker clothes, anything he could think of.

It was obvious to you that he was running himself ragged trying to juggle both work and these projects. You were happy that he was going through all this trouble to protect your baby, but you needed him to be still alive when the baby was born.

You approach behind him as he is examining a bubble/laser gun and wrap your arms around his middle. He jumps in your grasp and you nuzzle your face into his back.

“Please, take a break.” You plea to him.

“I can’t! We need to be prepared for anything that can happen! What if heroes take them? What if villains try to kill them? What if-”

You cut him off by spinning him around and kissing him softly.

“You done enough right now. Please don’t kill yourself before our baby is even born.”

He sighs defeated and wraps his arms around you, resting his head on yours. You take that as his affirmation and lead him to the living room.

Taking your seat, you pull him down to sit next to you and hug him. You can hear his heart beating erratically in his chest. His fingers are tapping incessantly on the arm rests. You sigh, his thoughts are running wild with fear.

You move over on the couch, leaving a wide area between you both and motion for him to lay down. He stares at you confused with his eyebrows raised, but ultimately follows your instructions. His head is laying on the cushion and his feet as hanging off the arm rests.

You click your tongue at him and pull his head onto your lap. You run your hands through his hair as you speak softly to him.

“I know that you are scared for the future and what will happen with this baby, but please calm down. Everything will be fine. I trust you and I know the baby will trust you as well. You’ll be an excellent father and I can’t wait to be there with you every step of the way. Take care of yourself because running yourself into the ground won’t help any of us.”

You move your hand to caress his cheek and give him a loving smile.

“I love you.”

He gives you a large smile back and grabs the hand on his face, lightly caressing you back.

“And I know our baby loves you too”

You move your hand to be on top of his and bring it to your stomach. You can see him gulp a little as his hand touches your stomach. He’s nervous to be this close to the baby, but he begins to smile when you both feel a kick.

He looks up at you in excitement and you smile brightly as he moves your hand to lips and gives it a quick kiss. He, then moves his head down to where the baby kicked and kisses there as well.

“I love you both too.”

Demencia

You flush the toilet after the morning’s scheduled sickness. Today was gonna be so great you think sarcastically. You wish Demencia was still here, she left earlier that morning to go do something. You weren’t sure what, you hasn’t been awake fully to hear. You just knew it was something to do with work.

You sigh and pick yourself off the ground. It was time to get something to eat as your stomach was telling you to do. You were seriously craving some strawberries right now. It was one of the side effects of Demencia’s lizard genes, you always wanted some kind of fruit or greenery. At least it was healthy cravings you think with a shrug.

You waddle your way to the door. Moving around was a little harder to do since you were quite a ways along in your pregnancy. Your stomach was pretty big now and you always worried that you weren’t beautiful anymore. Luckily for you, your girlfriend made sure to remind you how gorgeous you were to her. You missed her.

You open the door to head to the kitchen, but find 505 in front with his paw raised to knock on the door. Behind him is a little cart with something on top you can’t see.

“Heya bluebeary! What’s up?”

He gestures to the cart and moves to start wheeling it into the door.

Startled, you begin to ask what he was doing, but stop when the scent of strawberries hits your nose.

On top of the cart was a huge pile of strawberry pancakes with a side of fresh strawberries. Your mouth waters uncontrollably as you fight to keep yourself from attacking the food.

505 hands you a card. It’s written in bright neon sharpies and smells heavily of Demencia’s perfume.

‘Morning bon-bon! I made you some breakfast, I’ll be back soon’

God, she knew you so well. 505 heads out and closes the door as you begin to eat. You loved Demencia’s food. She used to not be able to boil water without burning the house down, but once you both found out you were pregnant, she started learning to cook eagerly. It was downright terrible at first. You would admit to puking whenever you ate it, but eventually it became a downright delicacy.

She says it was due to your and the baby’s support, but you would argue it was her own hard work. Either way, it was amazing. You finish the meal in record time and lay down in your little nest.

Demencia had made it when you complained about back pain when sleeping, so she gathered as many pillows and blankets as she could fit on the bed. It took a few days, but she was able to arrange it in a way that completely negated your pain.

Many would say that she was unfit to be a parent because of how childish she was, but you would punch everyone of them in the mouth. She was immature and played pranks on everyone, but she loved and cared for you. She was doing everything she could to help you and the baby be healthy. If that didn’t say fit to be a parent, you didn’t know what would.

Getting comfy and huddling under the blankets, you fall asleep to the thought of Demencia and your guy’s baby.

-(http://cutiefangs.tumblr.com/)

Oh my god, this is magnificent. Thank you so much for writing this masterpiece!!- 🦎

#inspired fic #pregnant so #I loooooove #blessed #villainous #submission

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whisker-biscuit · 7 years ago

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Harley Quinn is Not A Good Role Model: Chapter 5

Rated T-M for language and graphic descriptions of violence

Pairing: Dr. Flug/Black Hat

Summary: Dr. Flug Slys is a successful psychiatrist working at one of the world’s most respected mental institutes for the criminally insane. But this new patient is unlike anything he’s ever encountered. Flug is determined to help him, nonetheless.

Black Hat has other ideas.

Chapter 5: Masquerades

The trek from Black Hat’s cell to Flug’s office usually took four minutes, give or take. The psychiatrist didn’t know if his panic attack would wait that long.

“Dr. Slys, wait! Why are you walking so fast?” Dr. Bautista hurried after him, hard-pressed to keep up even with his height advantage. “Please, Doctor, we should review our notes, slow down!”

He refused to slow down, refused to even look at his colleague until they were stuck together in the elevator. Flug almost considered taking the stairs, but his office was on the first floor and he didn’t want to have a breakdown in an echoing stairway where people could hear. Even so, stepping into the lift with this man was a true test of patience.

“Jesus, Doctor, what’s the hurry? We got what we wanted, the schedule’s made, everything’s fine.” Bautista watched, bemused, as his distraught colleague pounded at the buttons. “I don’t understand what your problem is.”

“Oh, my problem? My problem?” Flug snarled at the control panel in lieu of his frustrating companion. “My problem, Doctor, is that a d-dangerous, volatile patient learned my full name when I didn’t want him to. A p-patient, who, if I may I remind you, has only ever been incarcerated for less than a week and who ruined the life of his last psychiatrist.” He slumped against the metal wall as the elevator dropped, clamping his hands against his bag and pulling hard. “And he’s already tried to kill me once yesterday. Who’s to say he won’t try again?”

Dr. Bautista waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, don’t worry so much, Doctor. That’s why we’re being careful, so you’re not alone with him anymore. He can’t try anything here.”

“Yeah, ‘here’ being the keyword.” Flug took his clipboard from under his arm and flipped hurriedly to a page full of Black Hat’s crimes. “See this? See how many people he’s killed? That’s only the documented ones, they suspect a whole lot more, you know!” The lift dinged open and the doctor slipped out. Bautista followed him. “Who’s to say he won’t come after me if he escapes, when he escapes, whatever!”

“I really think you’re overreacting,” was the grumbled reply. “This place has never seen a successful break-out, and most inmates hold grudges for officers, not psychologists. Besides, it’s not like you haven’t given your first name to patients before.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a first time for everything, and I don’t gamble.” The yellow gloves were stretched up to Flug’s elbows and he didn’t stop walking when they reached Bautista’s office first. “I’ll email you my notes so you can look over them, but I need to get ready for a counseling session. Thanks for joining me.”

“Oh hey, wait a second,” Bautista called out after him, causing the doctor to hesitate. “You’re going to visit Patient 243, right? Would you be willing to take Martin Naaji with you, for work experience? He’s my intern.”

“Uh…Martin, curly black hair, short, darker skin?”

“Yeah, that’s him. He’s pretty new so I had him help the nurses out with dispensing medication two days ago, but I heard it didn’t go so well.” Bautista shrugged. “Personally I think the kid’s a lost cause, but he’s here for another two months and I’m trying to find things for him to do.”

Well, that explains a lot, Flug scowled under his bag. “Sure, sure, just tell him to be at my door by 10:50 sharp. If he doesn’t show then that’s not my fault.”

“Will do, Doctor.” His colleague whistled obliviously as he disappeared into his room, and Flug seriously considered putting in a request for a different companion. He decided against it by the time he got back to his office. The man was of a much larger build than him and every bit of muscle would help, regardless of his lack of subtlety.

He stepped inside his personal space, locked his door, and promptly lost his cool.

Less than an hour later, when Martin knocked on his door at 10:49, Flug had reorganized every book on his shelf by publication date instead of the author title as it was previously, wiped down all hardwood surfaces with Clorox as well as the doorknob, cleaned the little window view of the parking lot, and systematically cut perfect, symmetrical goggle holes through fifteen spare paper bags, just in case.

He had been prepared for the intrusion but his jittery energy had yet to fully dissipate and the knock nearly made him fall out of his chair with a yelp. He hurried to correct himself and brushed off his lab coat, folding his hands formally in front of him.

“Come in!”

The knob turned only a quarter of a fraction before it forcefully stopped, and Flug remembered a little too late that he had indeed locked the door.

With a stumble and a quiet “dang it” the psychiatrist scooted around his desk and reached the door in four long strides. He opened it in a flurry and came face to face with the same wide eyes he had scolded two days ago.

“Um.” Martin took a cautious step back. “Hello.”

“H-Hello.” The doctor attempted to look a little more professional by putting his hands in his coat pockets. It didn’t really work. “So, uh…hello.”

The intern looked at the ground, nervous. “Um, so are we going or…?”

“Oh! Yes, I,” Flug turned and rushed back to his desk, scooping up Dementia’s case file and his notepad. He brushed past the teenager and closed the door. “Sorry, sorry, I’m uh, just let me lock the door real quick and we can go.”

“Okay,” Martin had his feet against each other, swaying a little. He tensed to attention when the psychiatrist started down the hall and followed meekly behind. “So…is this okay?

“What do you mean?” Flug tried not to touch his bag as they walked.

“It’s just…isn’t there patient confidentiality?”

“Oh. Well, yes, but we asked Dementia if she’d give disclosure to let interns sit in on her counseling session or review the notes we share for experience, and she agreed. You, ah.” He squinted sideways at the teenager. “You’re the first one who was willing. For her case.”

“Oh. Okay. I mean, I was assigned to this by my superior. But that’s cool, I guess.” They shared the ride up to Floor 5 in awkward, heavy silence. When the doors opened again, Flug stepped out and touched Martin’s shoulder to stop him.

“Listen, I, uh, we met under…unfortunate circumstances t-two days ago and I – I don’t regret what I said, I meant every word of that, but, it’s a new day and I don’t…” He trailed off, struggling to find the right words. The intern stared just under his line of sight, nervous. “Okay, um, what I mean to say is, I’d rather we don’t think of that, encounter, while we’re here together. I know you don’t want to be here with me, and that’s – that’s fine if you don’t like me at all, it’s, I don’t care. But please try to relax when we visit Dementia.”

Martin made real eye contact and his mouth parted in surprise. “Oh, um…okay. I can do that.”

“Good, c-cause she gets wound up really easily when other people are tense and it’s hard to tell sometimes, I mean, sometimes she tries to exploit that and sometimes it makes her wary and withdrawn and I, I really don’t want to have to deal with that, so – ”

“No, I get it.” The intern’s gaze dropped resignedly. “I’ll wait outside her room, if that makes you happier.” He shuffled away from his superior and tightened his lips together.

“Ah no, you don’t need to…actually, that might be a good idea for you to stay away.” Flug winced internally at the way that came out. “I mean, uh, maybe I’ll talk to her first, let her know you want to join us. We’ll see how it turns out.”

“Sure.” Martin didn’t pick his gaze back up as they made their way to Dementia’s cell. The doctor peered through the bars and didn’t see anyone inside. He leaned forward right at the same moment a maniacal, screaming face popped up in front of the window.

“HEY FLUG!!”

“Gah!” The poor psychiatrist reeled backward and nearly crashed into the spooked intern behind him. He recovered fairly quickly and threw his hands in the air. “Dementia! What have I told you about doing that?!”

“Not to do it,” the girl cackled, tongue poking playfully through her teeth.

“Then why did you?” He crossed his arms.

“Because of the noise you make.”

Flug pressed the top of the clipboard against his face, exasperated and exhausted. It wasn’t even noon yet. “Okay, that’s wonderful, really great to know that’s what you value about me.”

“Aww Flug, I’m just teasing, you know I love –” Dementia froze with the ‘you’ forming in her lips as she locked eyes with Martin, just past her doctor. Her playful demeanor drained to something very, very cold. “The hell is he doing here?”

“He’s here to –”

“What the hell are you doing here, Newbie?! Who do you think you are?!” She screamed at him, whole body pressed rigid against the door with a slam. “Wanna try me again, huh! Wanna grab hold of my mouth again, I bet that gets you off real good, you sick fuck!”

“Dementia! He’s not going to do anything!” Flug took one look back at Martin, who had plastered himself against the opposite wall, shameful and scared. The doctor put his head in front of the frothing girl, blocking her view of everything except his bag. “Calm down, please!”

“Why is he here, Flug? What is he doing here?!”

“He’s here to apologize, that’s what he’s here for, calm down!” They faced each other, her nose practically touching the paper on his face. “I’m not going to let him try anything, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Her eyes trembled like furious candlelight. “You promise?”

“I do, I promise.”

“¡Júrame!” It was a snarl, a desperate command.

“Te lo juro, te lo juro.” Flug lifted his goggles just barely, so she could see his sincere, serious brown eyes beneath. “Nadie puede herirte aquí.”

“Better stick to that,” she spat out, irritated but backing down. The girl stepped back from the window and took several angry steps to her bed, where she sat and glared at him. The doctor adjusted his glass-wear back into place over his eyes before turning around. Martin remained at the wall, face open and agitated.

“Listen, uh, I think it might be best if you stay, um by the door for a while, while I talk to her. Don’t, ah, don’t let her see you through the window, please.”

The intern nodded, lips twitching together, and came over slowly. With prompting he sat down next to the cell door, eyes downcast, and Flug patted his shoulder in awkward sympathy before unlocking the room and stepping inside. He closed it behind him and glanced over to the angry, pouting girl who was now staring at a far point on the wall.

So, uh…” The doctor sidled up about a meter from her mattress and settled down onto crossed legs cautiously. “Having nightmares recently?”

“What makes you say that,” she mumbled, refusing to look his way.

“Well, when the incident actually happened, you seemed a lot calmer about it afterwards than you are today.” Flug tapped fingers against his thigh. “So I’m guessing the last few nights have been rough.”

“Pff, what do you know.” Dementia leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling now. They remained silent for a minute before she had the courage to speak up again. “I dunno, I just…it’s hard sometimes. Dreams are hard sometimes. Cause I can’t do anything about them. Can’t control them.” She laughed, short and self-deprecating. “Not like I can control much else about me anyway.”

“Anything, anything noteworthy? Or that you want to work through? Get off your chest?”

“Nah, just same-old, same-old.” The girl nuzzled her chin into the collar of her straitjacket. “That stupid intern showed up in one, but it wasn’t too bad. He didn’t,” her eyes darted briefly in Flug’s direction and darted away. “He didn’t really do anything. In the dream. Was just there in the background.”

The doctor bobbed his head, quiet and respectful. They lapsed into silence again until she flipped over to lay on her back, head half hanging upside down off her bed in his direction. “Hey, Flug?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever get bad dreams?”

“Oh, all the time,” he looked at her. “Being a psychiatrist is stressful, you know. Especially here.”

“No, I mean…” Dementia blew stray bangs out of her face to give him a serious stare. “I mean about before here. Back when, when it wasn’t as safe.”

Flug opened his mouth to respond truthfully, but stopped himself and gave a nervous glance towards the door. He didn’t know how much could be heard out there, and he really didn’t want Martin – or any staff, really – to know things he wouldn’t normally share.

Dementia seemed to understand why he hesitated, because she wriggled closer until her back was on the ground and her legs trailed up and over the mattress. Her head was right next to his crossed knee, curious eyes watching him attentively.

“Well, I don’t know about this place being that safe for me,” Flug offered, pitching his voice a little quieter. “But yeah, before all this it was…really hard sometimes. I had a, a lot going on that I’m not super proud of, that I don’t want to get into for,” he glanced at the door again. “For personal reasons.”

The girl nodded sagely, in understanding brought only by experience, and he continued.

“And it’s not as bad as it used to be, the nightmares I mean. Sometimes they sneak up on me, and sometimes it’s hard not to think about, those times.” He reached up and lightly trailed a line down the cheek of his bag. “But I just have to remind myself that there’s a today, and a tomorrow, and they don’t have to be related to what happened yesterday, or last week, or whatever. I know it’s really cliché to say time is a good healer, but it is a good starting point, at least for me. Does that make sense?”

Dementia turned her head slowly, face searching somewhere beyond him. “I think so, yeah.” She locked eyes with him. “So why do you wear your bag? Is it related to the bad stuff?”

“Well, the bag isn’t really related, per se, but I don’t think I should answer that.” Flug looked down at her, at the sad, reserved expression she wore only when things were starting to be too much. He was very familiar with that look himself. “You’ve asked me about it before, way back when. I will tell you someday, I promise, but right now I don’t think I have the courage.”

“The courage to show me?”

“The courage to remind myself.”

“Oh.” Dementia worked those words over in her mind, and a small, crooked smile quirked up one side of her face. “Well, I better be the first one when you do. It’s only fair, after everything I’ve told you.”

“Trust me, Dementia, if I ever get that brave, you will probably be the only person I show it to.” He took a moment to move his lab coat to a better position across his shoulders, then looked at his mostly-forgotten clipboard. “I had an outline for our session today, but I don’t think we’re really going to follow it. What do you want to do?”

“Mm…” She bit her lip and looked at the door. Something distantly related to pity appeared in her face. “If I didn’t scare the newbie away, maybe…maybe I’ll listen to his apology.” The girl glared up at her doctor good-naturedly. “Doesn’t mean I’ll accept it! Just wanna hear him grovel.”

“Oh absolutely.” Flug stood up and brushed the wrinkles from his pants. He strode over to the door and waited until Dementia sat up and gave him a verbal confirmation to open it. As the doctor stuck his head out, he saw Martin slumped against the wall with his head in his arms between his knees.

The intern lifted his head when the psychiatrist cleared his throat. “Do you…does she want me to leave?”

“No, she’s willing to talk to you.” Flug offered a hand up, which the teen took. “But I want you to stay at least five meters away from her, hands by your sides at all times, and the first words out of your mouth need to be an apology. Got it?”

“Yes sir,” Martin agreed hastily, rubbing his arms as if chilled. He ducked inside the room behind the doctor like a wraith. The inmate and the intern made eye contact, and a rambling burst of energy spilled out of the teen’s lips.

“I’m so sorry, Ma’am, I shouldn’t have tried to force you to do anything! And I shouldn’t have touched you that was unprofessional and wrong and I, it…” he ducked into himself, embarrassed with both gazes on him. “I’m…I really hurt you, didn’t I?”

Dementia snorted. “Takes a lot more than a sissy-boy to hurt me, Chiquito, but it’s something.” She stood and ventured closer, keeping Flug between them like a buffer. “Martin, is it? You’re kinda scrawny. Are you sure you’re cut out for this job?”

“Um,” the intern looked to his superior for help, but the psychiatrist was trying not to laugh. She had said almost the same thing to him months ago. “I don’t…thank you? I can manage.”

“I sure hope so, kid, cause I’m one of the nicer ones.” She shook her head and long hair spiraled out around her. Flug rolled his eyes.

“Funny, I thought you were one of the tough ones.”

“I’m both, you dense doctor, I’m well-rounded.” Dementia shimmied in place, pretending to pose like a model. It was quite the sight with her attire. “Anyway, I’m bored now, so either pick a spot and pop a squat or get the hell out of my room. I’m not wasting any more time in my appointment with the only reliable guy here.”

Martin sat where he was, startled, and at his quizzical look the girl smiled like a shark and dove onto her bed. “You think I don’t know what interns do? I’m just surprised you didn’t bring a notebook, you’re not very prepared.” She scooted her feet up and propped her chin on her knees. “Flug, get your butt over here, you’re the one getting paid for this.”

A little under an hour and a half later, the two employees stepped out as Dementia smacked her feet together in lieu of clapping. “Bye Flug! See you soon! Bye Martin Maje! Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!”

Martin waved half-heartedly as the doctor locked the cell, then whispered quickly, “What does ‘maje’ mean?”

“Ehhh, don’t worry about it.” Flug adjusted his bag and shrugged one shoulder, fidgeting uncomfortably. “She gives, um, nicknames to people sometimes. Don’t take it personally, it means she likes you.”

“O-Okay,” the intern looked confused but dropped it. “So, now what? Do we go over the session? Do I tell you what I think? What’s next?”

“…You don’t know what comes next?” The psychiatrist was baffled by this.

“Well I haven’t, been here very long and Dr. Bautista…” Martin looked at the window of Dementia’s door. “He doesn’t really give me much to go on. Just, ‘go help this person with this’ or ‘go ask the nurses for something to do’. I haven’t done much, really.”

“Oh.” Oh indeed. Flug was really starting to regret accepting his offer to help with the other case. “Well, I’ll talk to him, maybe work out a more concrete schedule. How’s that?”

The intern’s face lifted just a little, then fell. “Ah, thanks but um, I don’t want to get in your way. Especially not after I screwed up with your patient.”

“I’m just glad she accepted your apology,” the doctor said bluntly. “And I’m not going to lie, I’m still upset about that. But we really need all the help we can get here and I’d rather you know what you’re doing than…whatever you’ve been doing the last few days…week? How long have you been here?”

“Six days.”

“Ah, okay. Yeah. That’s, that’s it then.” They started working their way down the hall and Flug continued. “I might just let Dr. Rorschach know you need stuff to do, she’ll probably be better to help than me. Not that – not that I don’t care I just, have a lot on my plate right now.”

The poor psychiatrist had a sixth sense for bad timing, he’d swear up and down, because at that moment there was a distinct hair-raising, ear-splitting shriek from the other end of the hall that was all too familiar. Flug made a pained expression as Martin whipped around in that direction.

“What – what was that?!”

“That would be one of my patients.” He handed his clipboard to the shocked intern and pushed him towards the elevator. “You go ahead back to my office and look over my notes. Get a pad and write down questions or thoughts, save it to show me later. I uh, I need to take care of this.”

“Oh, do you, do you want help or –”

“No! No no no, I appreciate it but please no!” Flug shook his head frantically, not wanting to imagine bringing this inexperienced kid anywhere near Black Hat. “Just, j-just go back downstairs, please, I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“Um, alright,” Martin complied and started walking reluctantly, and the doctor waited until he was safely in the elevator before putting his hands to his face and moving to the opposite end. There was another shriek and he grimaced.

The lights above the reinforced cells were dimmer than Flug remembered them being just that morning. He stopped carefully in front of the sole occupied room and peeped inside discreetly. Black Hat was there in the other side of his padded prison, kicking angrily at his mattress and straining hard against his straitjacket. His collar blinked but didn’t make a sound.

“Um, Mr. Black Hat?”

The inmate went still in his movements and cracked his head around in a near one-eighty. His face, contorted in rage, restrained itself to a neutral, unreadable position.

“Doctor Flug. To what do I owe the displeasure?” His body turned to match his head, and the psychiatrist winced at the noise it made. “I was under the impression we wouldn’t see each other until the date set tomorrow.”

“Oh, w-well, I happened to b-be here and you…” Flug looked at the abused bed. “Uh, I heard a y-yell, and I was j-just checking in.”

Black Hat’s mouth gave a spasm, but whether in the direction of a smile or a frown it was hard to tell. “I see. Well, I will take more care to keep my grievances to myself, until I feel the need to share them.”

“Good, that’s…good. Is there, uh,” he swallowed. “Is there anything else you need?”

“What I need is not something you’d provide, Doctor.” His patient was settling down a little, at least in energy. He was no longer as rigid. “I highly doubt you’d be willing to entertain my possession of an alternative set of clothing. This one is quite, restrictive.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda the point,” Flug mumbled before he could catch himself. He jolted when his brain caught up and put his hands to his mouth, horrified. “I mean, I d-didn’t mean to say that, I –”

“Oh it’s quite alright, Doctor Flug, I prefer honesty.” Black Hat looked vaguely amused again. He stepped closer to the door and the doctor pushed down the urge to take a matching step away. “Which reminds me; you were not very truthful about your identity. Refusing to share your full name? Tut, tut. Rather deceiving, Flug.”

Every use of his first name sent a shiver up his back. “I r-really wasn’t being untruthful, Mr. B-Black Hat. Just evading a f-full answer.”

“I suppose I cannot dispute that,” There was another step. “But now that it’s out in the open, I have to say it’s been intriguing me. It is an abnormal name, after all. Were your parents aware of its meaning?”

Flug clamped his mouth shut. He wasn’t letting anything else get past him. His inmate stepped forward some more, only a meter or so from the door.

“Is it a birth name? A changed name? An alias, perhaps?” Step, step. Black Hat was at the window now, hot breath curling out and under the paper bag. The doctor clenched his hands into his coat to keep the flinch from escaping. “Oh come now, Flug. Surely you can’t expect me to believe there are no curious circumstances. Flug Slys is too much of a word to be a name.”

Flug took a loud, slow inhale. “You could say the same thing about Black Hat.”

“Ah, true,” the patient’s mouth curled like the Grinch, “but I use that name for stage and show, something you pitiful humans can wrap your heads around. I highly doubt your situation is similar.”

“Well, m-maybe it is, maybe it isn’t.” His knuckles were white. “But that’s as much as y-you need to know. I’m not – I’m not going to l-let anything else be c-compromised.” He squared himself, trying to look braver than he felt. “Got that?”

They were very close now, face to face just as he had been with Dementia. But there was a different kind of test here, an alternate set of rules. Flug had to learn them before he fell behind, because he had the distinct sense that losing was not an option.

Black Hat’s one visible eye was half-lidded lazily, but through the illusion the doctor could see his pupil searching, studying, sifting into everything he had foolishly allowed to be seen. The smile turned to a grin deliberately sluggish, and the inmate made a noise deep in his throat. It could have been mistaken for a purr if one was suicidal enough.

“Yes, Doctor Flug, I understand very well. You are a man of mystery, keeping your secrets close and your half-truths even closer.” A forked tongue could be seen only briefly behind the deadly teeth. “It will be fun prying every single one from your trembling, broken hands.”

Flug’s hands were so tightly curled in his coat he could feel nails pressing into his palm through the gloves and the fabric. “That’s f-fine, Black Hat, but I h-hope you realize that it’s a t-two way street.”

“Oh I’ve no doubt about that,” the patient backed away from the bars. “But if I recall that will not begin until tomorrow. Official appointments and all that.”

He turned away and only then did Flug release his lab coat from his death grip, taking a few shaky steps of his own, putting distance between himself and the door. He shook as he shuffled away, fiddling with the crumpled ends of his mistreated coat. Behind him, Black Hat cleared his throat.

“Until next time, dear doctor. Ta.”

And so for the third time in two days Flug left that room, shaking and quiet and traitorously, treacherously excited.

Longest chapter so far! Hope you like it!

#villainous #villainous au #asylum au #dr. flug #black hat #demencia #paperhat

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lovelysheepy · 6 years ago

Text

Eldritch Manors and Snow Globes

@spookyselfship Event Prompt Week 1 - Haunted Mansion

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Major Character Death, Blood, and Gore.

Word Count: Approximately 4000 words

The shattering of a snow globe turns all of Hat Manor into a terrifying death trap, and unfortunately someone has to deal with the whole affair.

I woke up as the plane hit land at last. My eyes blinked the grogginess away as I tried to reaffirm myself back to reality and everything I’d need to do to return to my usual routine. My mind and eyes glaze over as I pick up my carry-on bag and exit the plane from my first class seat hat Black Hat insisted on, and I hurried to collect my luggage at the baggage claim.

Of all the things I expected, it certainly wasn’t Dr. Flug. I rubbed my eyes sleepily as I figured I was seeing shit - the doctor hardly ever left his laboratory, much less Hat Manor. I watched him twitch and look around in a panicked manner. I glanced at the baggage carousel to see if my luggage was there as I walked my way towards Flug.

“Hey.” I called to him. “What are you-”

He exclaims my name and runs towards me - cutting me off, clearly filled with anxiety. “Where were you this entire time?” I blinked at him in confusion at his distress.

“Out of the country.” I answered, trying to remain calm for Flug’s sake. “What’s wrong?”

“I need you to come back with me to the manor.” Flug insists, getting behind me and starting to push me forward.

“Hey!” I retort, using my heels to ground myself from moving. “Will you calm down?!”

“Calm down?! If you think I’m the one who needs calming, wait until you see your boyfriend!” Flug whispers to me, worried about making a scene. We caught a few stares, and I glared at everyone who did as some glanced away and some continued to stare.

“Well, I’ll go - but I need my fucking luggage first so can you keep a lid on it, paperbag?” I frown, obviously unhappy. As with most people, I did not enjoy being pushed around. I glance behind me, as Flug’s eyelids were half open in exasperation - clearly dissatisfied with my response. “Don’t give me that. I literally just got back after two weeks.”

“Fine.” Flug says, no longer trying to push me. Instead, he waits by the baggage carousel. I stand next to him, and he slips his hands into his pockets.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Dementia… broke something. The Boss flipped. I’ll tell you more when there aren’t so many people around.”

I nod at him in understanding. After a few minutes my luggage finally shows up on the carousel, and I quickly go to retrieve it. We made our way to the airport’s parking lot in silence. I was tired and it was obvious Flug had something else on his mind. I felt a bitter taste in my mouth, hoping that I would have received a better greeting - this was the first I’ve ever been away from Black Hat and his subordinates. When we finally got to the black van that is Flug’s vehicle, company logo present on the side, Flug opens the back two doors of the van.

“Here.” Flug says, offering to take my luggage. I hand it over to him, as I watch him toss it into the back rather carefully.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” He nods at me. I notice he was a lot more relaxed than before as he closes the doors and then goes around to the driver’s side of the van. I make my way around to the passenger side, and hop in.

“Y’know…” I start, securing myself with the seat belt. “You’re more relaxed than when I first saw you.”

“It’s… nice. To have a…” He quiets, squinting through the windshield. “....a friend.”

“Mhmm.”

“...How come you didn’t answer your phone?”

“I didn’t have signal out of the country, my plan doesn’t have that kind of coverage. Actually-” I reach to pull out my phone from my pocket, as a turn it on. When the phone finally turns on completely, I see a rush of messages and phone calls followed by way too many phone vibrations than is necessary, and I cringe. “Jesus.”

“Yeah. It’s been. Pretty bad, to say the least.”

“Christ, Flug. What in the fresh hell happened?” I stare at him as he takes a deep breath, beginning to reverse and drive out of the parking lot. My eyes glance back over to my phone, looking at the texts and the phone calls. Half of the phone calls are from Black Hat, and the other half are from Flug. All of the texts were from Flug, with very few from my boyfriend. The texts don’t particularly explain the scenario, but there is clear desperation and some really dark images sent from Flug’s end that of which I couldn’t make out, and then texts from Black Hat that seemed relatively normal.

“I don’t remember where she got it, but Dementia came into my lab with some snow globe she was obsessed with. Something about how it was shiny. Anyway, Black Hat came stomping in a fit from his office and into the lab, and the snow globe broke since Dementia dropped it. And then just like that, he… the Boss… just snapped.” Flug fumbles with his words, clearly unsure of how to describe it. “The whole manor is a death trap now.” Flug sighs, becoming tense. I nod, staring at the pictures.

“Is that what the pictures you sent are of? The manor?”

“Yeah.”

I stared at them in silence, trying to find any signs. I vaguely remembered giving Black Hat a snow globe awhile back, who told me that he used it as a decoration for his office desk. If it was the same snow globe, I could understand why he’d be upset. If someone came around and stole my shit and broke a gift that my boyfriend gave to me - to say the least I would not be able to guarantee their safety. I decided not to tell Flug the snow globe was from me - as it didn’t matter either way and I thought it’d be nice to keep some of Black Hat’s dignity intact.

“So is the whole manor like this?”

“The whole manor. I haven’t been staying there since five days ago when it happened.”

“Five days? Where have you been staying, Flug?”

“Your apartment.” He admits, gulping a bit. I give him a look of disbelief. “W-Well there wasn’t exactly anywhere else and y-you told me I could always drop b-by and I knew you’d have a sp-spare key underneath the flower pot so I…” He trails off.

“No, no. It’s okay, Flug. I get it. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Christ, sorry about the mess.” I shook my head and waved my hands. “Sorry. I forgot to clean before I left.” I began to scratch the back of my neck, sighing that this ordeal happened to begin with.

“I hope you don’t mind if 5.0.5 cleaned up your apartment while you were gone. I told him he shouldn’t mess with your stuff but he couldn’t help himself when I passed out that night.” I laughed.

“5.0.5 is such a sweetheart.” I glance at the road ahead. “It’s fine. As long as I can find my stuff.”

“...You don’t take care of yourself that much either, do you?”

“...No.”

“A bit of a hypocrite, aren’t you?” He snorts, clearly making a reference to the fact that I always made an effort to pester him about his self-care.

“Yeah. I guess I am. I try, but - y’know, you’ve seen the state of my apartment.” I sigh. “I suffer from major depressive disorder, it’s hard to get out of bed some days.”

“...Oh. I’m sorry. Are you taking medication?”

“Yeah.” I nod, vaguely remembering the medication in my bag. “It only does so much, though. That’s just how it is.”

“Does the Boss know?”

“I think? I take it in the evening so every time I’ve stayed overnight at the manor I’ve had to bring it with me. He’s seen me take it, but he’s never asked what it was for.” I answer honestly, finger rising to my chin as I stare at the road ahead in thought.

“I think you should tell him.” Flug states, making a turn. “...Sorry I didn’t ask before at the airport, but uh. How was your trip?”

“Oh, that’s okay.” I reassure him. “Hearing your situation, I can understand why. But uh, my trip was fine. I visited family. One of my cousins was finally getting married and she went through all the trouble to invite me and I couldn’t help but want to go there. Not to mention the rest of my family were also going so it was a pretty big reunion I couldn’t bring myself to miss out on. I told Black Hat about it before I left, hoping something like this wouldn’t happen. I thought he’d mention it to you, but doesn’t seem like that was the case.”

Flug sighs. “What he tells me is always on a need-to-know basis. You know he doesn’t approve of our amicable relationship.”

“Well, I disapprove of his disapproval.” I say with a huff. “He can learn how to deal.” I couldn’t help but smile, when I finally heard Flug laugh.

“If I ever said anything like that, Boss would have my head. I don’t understand how you do it.”

I shake my head, smile growing on my face. “It’s cause I’m cute.”

“I can neither confirm or deny.” His smug tone is clear.

“Well, I didn’t ask you.” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. We both can’t help but laugh as we reach Hat Manor. I turn to stare out the window at the manor, which looks relatively as normal as ever. “Looks fine, Flug.” I notice Flug visibly swallow.

“It’s worse on the inside.” I nod at him as he turns to me, and I begin to undo my seat belt and get out of the van. I stand in front of the gates, expecting Black Hat to open up the doors and greet me like all the times he’s done before this. He doesn’t come out of the manor, so I squint - fully aware that something is very, very wrong.

“I’ll disable the security system.” Flug states, pulling a device out of his pocket. He presses a few buttons and keys. “There, now you should be able to safely get inside.”

“Are you not coming with me?” I ask him, concerned.

“Are you serious? If I go in there I’m sure I’ll die.” Flug retorts, pulling out a maglite from the back of the van and handing it to me. “You’ll need this.”

“Well, then why are you sending me in there?!”

“Because, I don’t think Black Hat will tear your head off.” I glare at Flug, who simply shrugs at me. I grab the maglite from him, and then I stare at the manor, squinting.

“Fine.” I grumble, as I open up the gates and walk my way into the manor. I turn back to Flug, who is watching me as I trek on. When I finally reach the doors to the manor, I’m disappointed that Black Hat had yet to greet me. I take a deep breath and open the doors - seeing an inky blackness inside. Even as the windows are obviously uncovered, there is no light in the foyer. I turn on the maglite in my hand, and step inside.

The moment I finally step inside, the door slams behind me. I turn back to jingle the handles of the entrance door, only to find that the door will no longer open and the handles are stuck. “Fuck.” I curse to myself, turning around to face the stairs.

The inside of the manor is pitch black, and completely silent. I step forward up the stairs quietly, hand touching the handrails of the entryway stairs, only to feel my hand become wet. I yelp in surprise, staring at my hand dripping with a black substance. I attempt to shake it off, unhappy with the mess. I continue to step up the stairs which creak with it’s age. It felt like walking through a haunted mansion, but this was very real.

I flashed the maglite around to the painting of Black Hat that had adorned the center of the manor’s entryway, staring at the distorted form before me. It looked as if something was pulsating over the painting of Black Hat of a nature and origin that I could not place. I regretted taking a sharp intake of breath as I tried to calm my nerves.

“Ugh.” I reel, a corpse-like stench emitting from the substance. I continue on to move away from the substance as quickly as possible, attempting to find the other stairway towards Flug’s lab. I was not sure where Black Hat would be - but if Flug’s story had been correct then that would be the first place to start searching. I wondered where Dementia was - if she was even alive at this point if this is how Black Hat lashed out.

It was further up the stairs where I found what looked to be Dementia’s body. I gasped, running over towards her. I flashed the maglite towards the walls and ceiling, which was covered in sticky and dry blood. “Oh, god.” I murmured, leaning down to touch her shoulder. She was cold. I bit my lip, and tried to turn her over with my foot. I held back a scream, seeing her torso completely mutilated - a gaping hole from her chest where her heart should have been. Dementia’s eyes were empty, her brain clearly visible in the back from where the eyes were no longer. I flinched away from her body, hand covering my mouth.

I felt goosebumps go through my spine, and began to feel a cold sweat on my brow as I stared at her lifeless form. Black Hat really had done this. All of this. My hands began to tremble, full of fear. Unable to look at her body anymore, I closed my eyes - trying to hold back tears. I always had known Dementia did not like me that much, or so I thought. I knew she had always resented me slightly, because of Black Hat’s favoritism - she pined for him so much. However, I had never felt ill-will towards her, and I knew that I would never wished for her end to be like this. It was just a gift - a fucking snow globe. I could’ve made a new snow globe, as many as it took.

I could not hold back a sniffle from escaping, as I tried to move forward away from her body. My mind drifted from Dementia to Black Hat, and I wondered why he had to go this far. I bit my lip, anger beginning to rise in my throat. It was so unnecessary. My anger was so overwhelming, I sniffled again - tears beginning to well up in the corners of my eyes.

My attention had switched from the grim thoughts of Dementia’s corpse, when I began to hear the sounds of shifting behind the hall which I walked from. I turned my head, glancing at the form of a black creature, moving in the manner of a biped on two spindly legs. It had two spindly arms, sharp and ended in a point similar to that of icicles. I took a deep breath, watching the creature in shock - the smell of corpses once again hitting my nose. I had to run. I had to get out of here. I had to find Black Hat.

I began to run forward in a sprint, making my way towards the lab. I turned back to watch as the creature got down on all fours to make chase after me. I would have screamed for help, if I wasn’t worried about attracted attention to any creature similar, and if I wasn’t worried about wasting my breath that I needed in my run. I could feel the creature gaining on me, speed being an advantage of a four-legged creature over a bipedal one. I turned the corner and laid eyes on the open door of Flug’s lab. I rushed towards it, entering the lab door as I began to fumble in a panic to close the sliding metal doors with the console.

“Hurry up, hurry up…” I said, watching the doors closing too slow as the creature began to pick up in speed to make it to the doors. Scared for my life, I began to feel my life flash before my eyes. At least I had gotten to say goodbye to my family at the reunion. I watched as the creature began to leap towards me through the small crack in the door, awaiting my demise. I flinched and closed my eyes - however pain nor death came. I opened an eye only to see the doors closed, and my life well intact. I began to cry, coming down from the adrenaline high. I took a deep breath after a few minutes, as I tried to collect myself.

I turned around to face the lab, eyes still stinging from the tears. I see a form besides the remains of a broken snow globe. The creature was similar to the one that had chased me before, but the shape was more human-like. I blinked, staring at the top hat-like mass on the head of the creature. My eyes glanced to the broken snow globe, and seeing the ground covered in red glitter - I had identified that this was in fact, the snow globe that I gave to him. I bit my lip, and approached the figure.

“Black Hat?” I called out to it. The creature turned to me.

"̵̢̕͢͝Y̸'̷̧͡ ̕͜͠͏ą͘h̕͠ ̵̨͘͠l̴̶͘҉̢'͜͢͢͝ ́s͞o͘͢͡͡͠r̷̵ŕ̴͏y̴͢͢,̛́͡ ̵̶̢y̴̢͟a̷̡͢ ̡͢ḑ̢̢͡e͏̷a҉̵̨̨r͢҉̷́́.̴̴̷̢͝"̨́͜͠

The creature speaks, but it comes out garbled. I squint, trying to make sense of what it says - but only barely. The language sounds very different from what I was familiar with, but I could make out the word “sorry” and “dear”. The message seemed clear enough.

“It’s okay.” I tell the creature, walking forward to touch it’s shoulder. It doesn’t flinch away from me when my hand makes contact, but it feels wet, and I can’t help but be uncomfortable. It takes a lot to keep my hand from retracting, but I let it stay. “What happened to you, Black Hat?”

"̴̧̧̛̀C̛͜a̛h̡́͢͡f̵̵̨͞ ́̕͜ǫ̛́t͘͡ ̧̀h͢͝͡h͘͞'͘͟͝ ́͘̕͘a̴̢͜͏h͟ ̵͟͢g̴i͜͡͠f͜͝t̸̶̸͘ ̸̧͟͝h̶͘͟͝u̷̡͢p҉͡ ̧͟͞y͡a̡̡̛ ͏҉̷͏̢o̷͏͏͏r͜͢͡ŗ́̕'͏̛͝͏͝ę̸͜ ҉̨̧u̵̕͡a͢͏̀a͘͢à̶̀͘͟h̵͢͢͝g͏̀͝o̡͢͟f̡̢͟'̶͏̵͟ń̶̢͞ ̷̨̀́̕a̷̷͞͝h̵͡͞ ̢͢s͡h̷͝͞͏̛a̶̢̨͢t̸͟҉t̸̶͟e̵̷̡͢ŗ͞͡͡ę̴́d̛͘ ͏҉̛͟l̸͜͡ļ͠͏̵͝l̷͏͡l͏͟͞ ̷͠҉͏͝á̕͡͏z̡̕a̸̡̢n̛͘a̡͞h̴͏́͟ó̡̨̧t̕͟҉̷̨h̵̵̸́͠.̛̕͜͝"̶̡͝

“I-” I stutter, trying to make sense of what is being said. It is definitely in a different language. I gulp. “I don’t understand what you are saying, I’m sorry.”

The creature stands up, and turns to me. I stare up at the creature, amazed by the two foot difference in height. While Black Hat often dwarfed me, I have never felt so small. I blinked in awe. The creature’s human-like hand takes mine.

"́̀͢͞��L̢͜ĺ̷̡̀͟l̛͏̵̸̕l̢̡͢ ̶́̕͟͞n͟҉o̶͢͠͝g͘ ́́͘͠͠ý̴̨̧́a̧̢͠͠͝.̀͘͢͟͡"̧͟͜͢͠

I squint, still unable to understand as the creature attempts to drag me off towards the door. I gasp as I almost trip to keep up, the grip on my hand certain and insistent. I frown but try to keep up with the creature, assuming that it’s trying to get me to follow. The double doors open, as the creature leads me through the darkness. I shine my maglite in front of me, but the creature smacks it away.

“Hey!” I yell in surprise, and the creature growls. I stare into the darkness, completely unable to see. I sigh. “I can’t see anymore.”

"̡͜T̶͢͏̴ŕ͜͟ú́s̶̀͘͢͝t̵͡҉ ͞҉y̢̢͟͡a͏̵.̵̶̸͢"̴̡̢͝͝

I make out the word “trust”, and I simply sigh as I’m led away through the darkness in silence. After walking for awhile and hearing shuffling in the distance, I finally hear the sound of a door opening as a green light flickers from the room. I feel a hand on my back, as I assume the creature that was leading me beckons for me to step inside. I step inside, seeing a creature of unspeakable horror sit in front of the fireplace - tendrils and multiple appendages reach out to me, and touch my face and the rest of my body.

I stare in horror, and see it - the top hat. Was this Black Hat? I feel myself being tugged forward by the tendrils, and I stop by digging my heels into the ground. It only tugs harder, as I am swept off of my feet and absorbed into the Black Mass. I gasp, feeling like a dark tar begins to enter through my mouth and nostrils, the sensation burning and incredibly painful. I felt like I was going to drown, and then suddenly I felt nothing. However, I was clearly alive. The tar felt like air, and in the dark expanse I saw my boyfriend - his form monstrous and disheveled. The tendrils from the previous monstrosity led me to him, as tendrils that came from him and wrapped around me - as if the tendrils were passing me on. Once I was close enough, his arms wrapped around my form, and he buried his face into my neck. I sighed, wrapping my arms around him.

“I’m back, Black Hat.” I say, hoping for a response I could understand.

"̧Wel̕c͏o͠m̛è ́back." He says, voice and language discernible and understandable. I sigh, relieved to know what he was saying but unhappy with the lack of information regarding the manor’s current state.

“Thank you. ...Are you going to explain?” I sigh, and Black Hat grumbles.

“̴T͝he ̵ĺi͏z͏ar͘d̴ ̶br̴oke̸ ͜m̡y ̧g̀if͠t ̨f̀r͡o͠m̵ y̴o͞u. ̨S̢o ͏I ende̴d͞ ̸h͢er͜ l̢i҉fe.” I blinked a few times - in shock that my hypothesis was actually true. I didn’t know why I expected anything different, however.

“...I see.” I say, staring at the darkness behind him. It felt as if we were floating in water, my hair rising up on it’s own.

“̡..̸.͞Ar̸ȩ ̴yo̕u̷ ̢n̵ot̢ ̀angr̵y̡?͜”

“No?”

“́Y͜ou s͝h̸ould͝ ͜b̷e.”͞ He hisses.

“Why? It’s just a snow globe.”

“N͢o,̨ my ͘dea͠r. I͘t w̸a҉s҉ no͞t j̴us̛t a̵ ͟s̷n͜ow globe̶. It w͞a̢s͞ ͜yơur͡ s̡n̴ǫw̶ gl͞obȩ.̶”

“I can make more snow globes, Black Hat.”

“Y͜ou͝ ͡dón̶’͏t͞ ̴gȩt it̀.”͝ He growls. I could feel the tendrils tighten around my form.

“No - you know what? Okay. No, I definitely get it. I get where you’re coming from, because if someone decided to try and steal a gift that was from you and then go as far as to break it, I would be pretty mad, too. But I would not go as far as to kill someone over it - because you’re still here. As long as no one has hurt you, then everything will be okay.” I sigh, my hold on Black Hat tightening. He doesn’t respond.

“I will always have more gifts for you, so you don’t have to fret over the snow globe, okay? I know you treasured it, you even put it on your office desk and it was… really wonderful of you to do that. It made me feel special. But you didn’t have to kill Dementia for it - she didn’t deserve that.”

“͟You̶ ̴don’t knoẃ ̡w͜hat̷ sh̷e ͏desȩr͢v̵e͞d̨.́” He huffs.

“She didn’t deserve death, that’s for sure.” I retort with a bit of sass in my tone. “I don’t think she meant to break it, I think she just found it really nice to look at.”

“͠Well, ͞s̶h͡e͠ sh̶óul̕d͞ h̷av̛è ke̡pt h͜e҉r͢ sc̵a̧l̛y h̶a͏n̢ds̀ off͠ ́of it͏ ̸and͘ j͡ust l͠ooked̵ ̴a̧t ̛it͠.̡”̛

“Black Hat.” I sternly reply. He sighs.

“̀.͡..̶I d̡i̷d̶n’t kil͜l͜ ̡her̀. A҉l͢ļ ̷I ̀did ͟ẃa̛s ̷rip͡ h̵e͝r ̴śoul͏ out̕ of́ ̶her b͏o̴dy͏ a͝nd̷ mau̴led the ͟bod̷y.̸ ҉T͟h͝i҉s ҉is̀n͝’t͜ ̶the f̨ir̶st ͡t̨ime͏.́”̴

“Seriously?”

“Y̧es.̛ ̵I͜ ̨w̷i͜ll͘ ̡have F̷lu̸ģ ͜m҉ak̢e h͜e̢r a̢ n̶ȩw ̴b̶o͝d̴ý. I ̛was ͘t͘èac͟hing ͏t͢h̸e̢ ͏rưn̕t̵ a lesson͜.͞ ̛Sh̴e ͝was ͡j̨ust͝ a̕ ͝m̢utáted l͢iz͘a͘r͟d̵ ͞anywa͝y͝.”̧

“Then why have you been like this for five days?”

Silence.

“Black Hat.”

“I̸ ̴d̨i͡d n̶o̴t w͘a̸n̵t̡ to̢ ̛s̕e̡e̵ ͘any͟o̧n͢e’s f͘ac̕e ͟in t̕his ma͞nor un̴lés͘s it was̢ ͜yo͘urs.��”͏

“Ah.” I respond, nodding to his honesty. “Fair. ...Will you turn back, at least?”

“In͝ a f͞e͠w hòu͞ŕs. A̕l̡śo͜, neve̛r̵ l̶ea͟v͜e ͝m͟e ̕a̛ga͠in.͜ S̛ta͘y͞ įn ͘th̶e͜ ͟ma̷no̷r ͢for̢ a ̷f̨eẃ d̸a̵y͟s͞.”͡ I can’t help but let out a laugh at his request.

“Okay. But I can’t just skirt family gatherings. So you’ll have to come with me next time. Can we make a deal?”

“̡..͏.F͠i̛ne.” He grumbles, dissatisfied but satisfied enough to agree.

“Alright. I also need to unpack my luggage at my apartment, but then I’ll pack some stuff so I can stay here for a few days.” He hums in response, and it was my notion of knowing it was fine.

As promised a few hours later, Black Hat eventually returned to normal. I was quick to send Flug a selfie of Black Hat and I - feeling warmed by the thumbs up in response.

Everything was going to be fine, I thought, cuddled up to Black Hat whose tendrils wrapped around me and my form, gently petting my hair and his hands firmly pressed against my waist.

Everything.

#spookysse18 #self ship #self shipping #villainous #fanfic #gore #blood #black hat #dr flug slys #dementia (villainous)

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words4bloghere · 7 years ago

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At First Sight

To be totally transparent: I am using these prompts as a way to explore and flesh out my own world for my “Monsters” fic. So, please forgive my interpretations!

Flug coughed and spat a congealed mass of blood onto the sidewalk. He had to escape into the alley, though he hadn’t managed to stumble far from the safe house he had been using.

He wasn’t followed. There wasn’t a need. They had made their message loud and clear.

With tender fingers, Flug gently prodded the left side of his chest. A superpowered kick, even one that was mostly restrained, still could do a number on a human body.

There was pain, but pain while breathing could signify a number of things. He wasn’t a medical doctor, though he had picked up a few things in his studies.

Fractured ribs was definitely a possibility. There was a problem every time he tried to take a deep breath. And he was starting to panic.

How had they managed to find this apartment? He made his stays infrequent and stayed off the grid as much as possible. Had someone seen him leaving...? But no, he was always so careful.

Not even Janice knew about this place.

Regardless, they had found out. And they had sent the one who hated him the most to remind him of his position.

God, at this rate, they were going to kill him.

He had to hold out, at least for a few more months. That wasn’t enough time to put his work through any sort of testing, but it was a risk he was willing to take.

Better to die by his own hand than theirs.

He coughed again, a racking, frightening cough, and spat out more blood. Was there blood in his lungs? That would be a very bad sign.

Or his throat could have been damaged. Or this was leftover from the broken nose.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins, constricting them, and he started to feel dizzy. He propped himself against the alley wall, still resting his forehead against the wall.

To counteract a panic attack, first get the patient into a sitting position. Then, have them take 6 to 12 normal breaths while covering their nose and mouth with a paper bag.

Flug started to laugh, but it was broken and skittered over volume and pitch.

He was losing it. His vagus nerve was gasping, and he was losing it.

He just wanted one safe space. One place where he could be who he was, do the work that he wanted, and not worry about hiding his passions.

Flug pushed the bag up a little higher on his face, and it blinded him. The band of his goggles, still cushioned by the paper bag, yanked at the roots of his hair.

He tried to take slow, steady breaths, but he ended up taking air in too deep and he ended up coughing again. He gagged and spat up bile and blood.

The shithead had certainly bruised his diaphragm. If not herniated it.

This was going to be a bitch to recover from, especially when he knew he had to report to work tomorrow.

Or the Big Guy would show up.

Flug squeezed his eyes shut. He just wanted it all to stop. He wanted to go flying again.

He could feel the stick in his hand. Tipping the small plane’s nose down. The way his stomach would float and push toward his back. He imagined what impact would feel like.

“Would you like to make a deal?” Flug turned his head toward the entrance of the alley, but all he could see was a pair of shows and the bottom of a cane. He tilted his head back, to look down his nose to where the bag tented. He saw a tall, dark figure. His skin was, it wasn’t black as in the normal pigment of humans whose ancestors came from Africa. It was black like a room that suddenly lost power and your eyes hadn’t adjusted. It was a black like your head was inside of bag but you were also in the trunk of a car.

It was a darkness that hid something in it.

Very well dressed though.

Flug turned and spat again. The blood wasn’t as insistent now.

“Who are you?” He asked. He had been in this business long enough to know a villain when he saw one. But this guy must have been new.

“That name is Black Hat. And I can give you what you want.” The figure replied. “All you need to do is strike a bargain.”

Flug laughed weakly as he straightened. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, which he noted had a visible tremor.

“What are you, the Devil?” Flug still gripped the left side of his chest. He could feel his body stagger even as he stood still. The next time he saw that asshole, he was going to get some sort of payback.

“If that’s what you want to think, sure. Though I’m not interested in souls. More in, satisfying desires.” The villain, Black Hat, paused. “An Incubus if you will.”

Laughter burst out of Flug, but it was short lived. He was back to the painful, racking coughs.

“So do we have a deal?” Black Hat continued when the coughing had abated.

“You don’t even know what I want.” Flug retorted. Black Hat did not immediately respond, so Flug tilted his head back to look at him. Black Hat was smiling, a smile that was filled with too many teeth, all of them sharp.

“You want to escape.” Black Hat said. Flug didn’t reply, only pulled down the bag to cover his mouth, so Black Hat went on. “You are Dr. Flug Slys of the League of Superpowered Citizens, are you not?”

“I am Flug and I am Slys, yes.” Flug said tentatively. That was a very, very dangerous admission.

“You create their suits and weapons.” It was more a statement than a question, so Flug didn’t answer. “It just so happens that I am looking for a scientist.” Flug laughed again, just one, dry bark.

“You want me, to work for you? A, a, a villain?” He was skeptical. But it was a skepticism that was kept in check by sheer terror.

“Yes.” Black Hat replied, and sounded completely serious.

“You can’t be serious. They, they w-would hunt me down.” Flug used his free hand to press against the top of his head. “They would think I betrayed them! I, I know all of their weaknesses.”

Now Black Hat laughed. It was an unnatural laugh that seemed to echo from multiple mouths, loud and mocking. Flug angled his body away from him.

“My little doctor, I already know all of their weaknesses. But that’s not why I want you. I can give you, inspiration. I can make things possible that you couldn’t even imagine. And,” Now Black Hat stepped closer to the doctor. “If you stay, I’m afraid your days are numbered.”

Black Hat reached out a hand and laid it heavily on Flug’s shoulder. Flug staggered under the weight of it.

“But I can protect you.” Darkness seeped from the edges of Black Hat’s coat and curled around their feet. It didn’t just cover the sidewalk beneath them, but seemed to erase it. Flug shifted uneasily under Black Hat’s hand as the darkness inched closer.

“You’re not human, are you.” Flug’s voice was deadpan. Black Hat grinned again.

“Not even slightly.” He leaned in just as the darkness started to twist its way up his cane. “Now, do we have a deal?”

That deal was simple. Black Hat would free Flug from the heroes, but in return, would work for him.

He spoke of inspiration. And Flug knew that perhaps, he wouldn’t have to hide all of his passions. That there could be some room for, experimentation.

The thought made his pulse race. Heat crept up his face and he clutched his shirt with his right hand. He released the hold, finger by finger, and then held out his hand.

“Deal.”

#paperhat #paperhat month #how they met #prompt #day 1 #jax writes

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shadowsfandomhellhole · 7 years ago

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It. Is. DONE. TAKE IT.

Title: Meetings Pairings/Characters: Eventual Paperhat. Black Hat, Dr. Flug, Hero Ocs AU: Loyalty Summary: Flug knew life as a hero was never easy, especially being a well known scientist for heroes. But he never thought it could get worse. That is... until the Night he decided to help out the most famous and powerful Villain in the world, Black Hat.He finds himself forming a strange friend ship with the demon, and falling in love. Unfortunately, secrets do stay hidden for long, and Flug finds himself forced to make a decision. Stay a hero and lose Black Hat, or betray his teammates and friends and become a villain. Tags: Hero Flug,Origin AU, Bit of Angst, Possible violence, Probably a lot of violence. Slow Burn.

AO3

Prologue

The war between heroes and villains had always caused issues. Not just for the people caught in the middle, but for those who had taken sides. Flug had expected to run into trouble when he took the offer to work with the heroes. He was one of the best scientists that the heroes recruited, and it hadn’t taken long before he’d made a name for himself. So he was never surprised when the villains started targeting him. They would attack him, or try and kidnap him and force him to work for them. Because of this he learned quickly to fight and protect himself.

Besides the constant trouble it caused him, Flug couldn’t bring himself to dislike the fame he’d gained from working with the heroes. He was able to help save and protect people through his inventions. He was proud of that. Of course, being a scientist to heroes wasn’t always easy. Especially when fights went wrong.

The one down side to working for heroes?

They were like villains in a sense that they were too prideful to ever admit they might be at fault when things went wrong. It was either the inventions fault, or most commonly, the scientist’s fault. It was one of the few things Flug hated about his job. It was even worse when he was accused of intentionally sabotaging his own inventions.

Thinking back on it now… Perhaps, that’s why it was so easy to switch sides.

Flug had been out late that night, heading home from his lab at the base. He had his lab coat wrapped around him tightly to keep warm from the chilly winds. The scientist sighed as he walked, wishing he’d taken his teammates up on their offer for a ride home. But he’d declined wanting to finish his work before leaving. Flug was positive that it was well past 12, and was just thankful the streets of the city seemed to be empty as he made his way towards his apartment. He was passing by one of the back streets when he heard a noise. He froze and turned towards the street tensing. There was another noise, a pained frustrated hiss, followed by a cough and the sound of something splattering against the ground.

Flug frowned and shifted glancing around before swallowing and calling out, “...H-hello?” he called softly, stepping onto the street and looking around. There was movement to his left, accompanied by a growl and a hiss. The doctor turned his head and saw a tall figure leaning against the side of a building. It was a man, wearing a rather fancy suit, and long coat. He wore a top hat and a monocle on his left eye. He was glaring at Flug baring sharp, green tinted teeth. Flug felt his heart skip a beat as a shudder of terror went down his spine. He swallowed his fear and took a step towards the creature glaring at him.

The man was favoring his left side, his arm pressing tightly to his stomach as he held onto his side. Black blood dripped from the corner of the man’s mouth and stained his side. Flug frowned behind his scarf. The guy looked like he just had one hell of a fight.

“What the hell do you want?” the man’s voice came out as a snarl, deep and raspy.

“You’re injured.” Flug said, voice quiet as he stepped towards the other.

“What of it?” the other snapped, Flug stopped seeing the other tensing. Even in his condition the other seemed to be ready to attack. The doctor swallowed, shifting anxiously.

“…W-well. If you’re I-injured… y-you need m-medical attention.” Flug stuttered out.

“I’m Fine.” the creature growled. Flug winced, his instincts told him to run as fast as he could. But he could just leave the man. Taking a breath, he started to walk over to the other. He kept his pace slow to try and assure the other he didn’t mean harm.

“You’re lo-losing a lot of blood. Just… Let me help you.” Flug said. The man let out a low warning growl, pushing off the wall only to slump back against it with a hiss. “You shouldn’t move! You’ll just make it worse.” the scientist stated picking up his pace. The man snarled and lashed out at him. Flug just barely had time to avoid the other’s claws before they could make contact.

“I told you. I’m fine!” the man snarled baring his sharp teeth. Flug frowned behind his scarf.

“You’re clearly not!” he argued.

“Even so it’s none of your concern.” the other hissed. “Bloody hero…” the last words were hisses quietly under his breath. The demon spat out a mouth full of tar-like blood to the ground. He was slumping more against the wall his breathing becoming more heavy. Flug to the opportunity to move to the other’s side. Claws were swiped at him again but he ducked under them and wrapped an arm around the injured man’s waist. The man tried to jerk away but the sharp movement caused him to double over with a snarl.

“Easy… You’re going to make it worse.” Flug scolded he winced as he looped the man’s arm around his shoulder’s awkwardly supporting the other’s weight as he pulled him from the wall.

“You’re wasting your time.” the other growled. “I’m already healing, you fool.” he snapped.

“Not fast enough, you’re still losing blood. Now shut up and just let me help you, stubborn ass hat.” Flug snapped back, getting annoying at the other’s stubbornness. The man paused staring at him. Flug could see the rage burning in the other’s eyes but refused to back down. He started walking pulling the other with him. The man limped along side him still eyeing the scientist.

“Clearly… you have no idea who I am.” he muttered.

“You’re someone whose currently bleeding out. That’s all I need to know.” Flug replied.

Black Hat winced as he walked with the other, the deep gash on his side slowly stitching its self together as he eyed the mortal out of the corner of his eye. His claws twitched as he limped along side the scientist. It was clear the other had yet to realize just who he was. It would be so easy to slaughter the doctor, but he stopped himself. He wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly who this hero was. He was one of the main scientists for the Heroes, currently employed by Mimic. He huffed out in annoyance glancing down at the gash on his side.

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what happened?” Dr. Flug spoke up, getting his attention.

“You’re a smart man, Doctor. I’m sure you can figure it out yourself.” he rasped. Looking at him. The red head met his eyes briefly before looking ahead. “But then again, you’re helping out a villain, so maybe you aren’t as smart as other’s would think.” he added.

“Villain or not, I still can’t just leave you to die in the street… Wouldn’t be very hero-like of me if I abandoned some one in need.” the scientist said. Black Hat sneered and hissed.

“What is it with you heroes and helping people? Its revolting.” the eldritch snarled.

“You’re not exactly refusing the help.” Flug pointed out. Black Hat could hear the smirk and amusement in his voice and growled.

“I could easily kill you.” he said.

“Oh, really? Then why haven’t you?” Flug asked, not even bothering to hide his amusement. Black Hat glared at the human, claws twitching. He was starting to ask himself that. The villain growled as he turned lashing out.

“GAH!” he yelled out as Flug dodged, clearly anticipating the attack, and jabbed him in his injured side. “Son of a BITCH!” the demon snarled his eyes glowing red as he glared at Flug. The scientist swiftly pulled him from his hunched position supporting him.

“I told you not to move. That was your fault.” the mortal said snickering. Black Hat looked at him. He wasn’t sure whether he should be pissed off or impressed at the human’s boldness.

“… You’ve got a lot of nerve, mortal.” Black Hat said. Flug seemed to grin under his scarf.

“and there is nothing you can do about it.” he said. “I’m Flug by the way.” he added looking towards the demon.

“I know who you are…. You’re inventions are rather… interesting.” Black Hat replied.

“Is that a compliment or insult?” Flug asked.

“You could do better than heroes.” Black Hat answered.

“Let me guess… Better as in working for the villains? Save your speech. I’ve already heard it from countless.” Flug said.

“Other villains would waste the talent you have.” Black Hat snorted.

“And you wouldn’t?” Flug asked with a snort. “Save your breath. I’m never working with Villains.”

Black Hat rolled his eyes. He winced placing his free hand on the gash that been opened up from the jab he’d received from the scientist. They walked in silence for a bit.

“Where are you taking me?” the eldritch asked.

“Back to my apartment. I have a first aid kit there. Its not that much further.” Flug stated.

“… You’re joking.” the villain said looking at the other.

“Well I can’t exactly take you back to my place of work or a hospital.” the hero stated.

“You are insane.” Black Hat said.

“Maybe. But its the only place I can take you to help you. Fair warning, you attack me again and you will be on the ground with in seconds.” He said. Black Hat growled at the threat.

“Watch who you threaten, hero.” he snarled.

“Who am I threatening?” Flug asked.

“Black Hat.” the demon hissed. He felt the scientist stumble slightly and smirked. So he did know who Black Hat was. That’s good.

“… Huh. I thought Black Hat was a ruthless killer.” Flug commented.

“I could rip you to shreds, doctor.” the eldritch snarled.

“I’m sure you could. I’m just curious as to why you haven’t.” Flug stated.

“… That is something I’m still wondering myself.” Black Hat huffed almost silently. He wasn’t sure why hadn’t bothered to kill the other. Maybe it was because the human actually had guts to stand up to him. That alone peeked Black Hat’s interest. Lucky for the scientist, Black Hat was also to tired to start another fight.

The two of them fell silent as they walked. Black Hat sighed and glanced down at his almost healed side.

“..As fun as this has been, Doctor. I should get back home.” he stated starting to pull away wincing slightly being woozy from the blood loss.

“You’re-”

“Healed.” Black Hat cut in gesturing to his side. “...But I suppose a thank you is in order for the distraction.” he added. Flug stared at where the other had been injured in slight confusion.

“How did….?” he started.

“Come now, Doctor. Surely you know I’m not human? Nothing can would me for long.” the demon said grinning. “Good Night, hero. Perhaps we’ll meet again soon.” he said.

Flug stepped back eyeing the villain as he walking off with a wave. His hand slowly moved too his pocket where his ray was, but he hesitated before drawing it. Looking down briefly at his concealed weapon he shifted before looking back up. He shook his head, and turned continuing his way home.

“… Maybe we will.” he muttered. He wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted to meet the eldritch again or not.

#Shadow Writes #Loyalty Au #Black Hat #Dr. Flug #Prologue

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doctor-flugg-blog · 7 years ago

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★ FILL IN THE QUESTIONS AS IF YOU ARE BEING INTERVIEWED FOR AN ARTICLE AND YOU WERE YOUR MUSE.

TAGGED BY: @homuncolossus (<3) TAGGING: @evilpersonified @blxckhxtter @samuraiprince @cyb3rn3tics

I ran out of urls

1. WHAT IS YOUR NAME? "Dr. Flug”

2. WHAT IS YOUR REAL NAME? “Flug Slys.”

3. DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU’RE CALLED THAT? “........”

4. ARE YOU SINGLE OR TAKEN? “I’d rather not have a relationship. Too Distracting.”

5. WHAT ARE YOUR POWERS AND ABILITIES? “I can build things and aid people (Medically) when they are in need.”

6. WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR EYES? “I have Heterochromia so one of my eyes are green and the other blue.”

7. HAVE YOU EVER DYED YOUR HAIR? “No.”

8. DO YOU HAVE ANY FAMILY MEMBERS? “I live in a manor with others, Does that count?”

9. DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS? “Three Black Turtles, Gifted to me from a close friend.”

10. TELL ME ABOUT SOMETHING YOU DON’T LIKE. “Do I have to list them all?”

11. DO YOU HAVE ANY HOBBIES OR ACTIVITIES YOU DO IN YOUR SPARE TIME? “Sleep and Build.”

12. HAVE YOU EVER HURT ANYONE BEFORE? “A couple of times.”

13. HAVE YOU EVER… KILLED ANYONE?

“Is this even legal to say aloud?”

14. WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU? “What kind’ve question is that?”

15. NAME YOUR WORST HABITS. “Picking my nails, Staying up Late, and Forgetting to eat at times.”

16. DO YOU LOOK UP TO ANYONE? “Of course.”

17. GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BISEXUAL? “I’m Asexual.”

18. DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL? "I don’t ‘Go’ to it, I Went to it.”

19. DO YOU EVER WANT TO MARRY AND HAVE KIDS SOMEDAY? “No thank you. Too much stress.”

20. DO YOU HAVE ANY FANS? "No Idea.”

21. WHAT ARE YOU MOST AFRAID OF? “Hah-”

22. WHAT DO YOU USUALLY WEAR? “The attire I’m currently wearing.”

23. DO YOU LOVE SOMEONE? "Romantically? No.”

24. WHAT CLASS ARE YOU? “Excuse me?”

25. HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU HAVE? “Not many.”

26. WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON PIE? “Never bothered.”

27. FAVORITE DRINK? “Coffee.”

29. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PLACE? “My Room.”

30. ARE YOU INTERESTED IN SOMEONE? “....Maybe.”

31. WHAT’S YOUR DICK SIZE?

“?????”

32. WOULD YOU RATHER SWIM IN THE LAKE OR THE OCEAN? “Neither.”

33. WHAT’S YOUR ‘TYPE’? “What does that mean?”

34. ANY FETISHES? “Yes, It’s called sleep.”

35. TOP OR BOTTOM? DOMINANT OR SUBMISSIVE? “What kind’ve interview is this?-”

36. CAMPING, OR INDOORS? “Indoors.”

37. ARE YOU WAITING FOR THIS INTERVIEW TO BE OVER? “Yes. Please.”

#⌲ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ᴾʳᵒᵛᵉ ᵀʰᵃᵗ ᶫ ᴴᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃᶰᵒᶰ #Headcanon #:v

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snarkybluechristian · 5 years ago

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Villainous: Reform School Chapter 17

Edit: Sorry that this has taken so long. Hazbin Hotel has been absorbing a lot of my attention.

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Everyone washed up and eventually got to the dining room where 505 was serving some Mexican specialties on the long formal dining room table.

Melanie’s family sat on one side, except for Dita who insisted on sitting next to Dementia, Black Hat, and Flug on the other side. Melanie sat between her mother and Lunet.

Everyone was silent as they ate their food. Melanie would have been happy for that solemn silence to continue, but, of course, Iliana had to break it.

“So, Dr. Flug, has my sister misbehaved in the last 24 hours?” Iliana asked between bites of tacos as she gave Melanie a pointed look.

Melanie could only respond with an eye roll to show her annoyance. Iliana had some nerve.

“Melanie has been quite disrespectful,” Flug said. “But that isn’t what concerns me. Melanie has shown some very helpful tendencies. She helped 505 with dishes for a little while this afternoon without being asked. That is an indicator of serious compassion. Can you explain this?”

“I can,” Faucheuse began. “Melanie was just following the example set by her older sister. Lunet spent a good deal of time with Melanie when she was a child and helped us out with her even though we never asked her to. So once Dita was born, Melanie stepped up to help her like her older sister helped her. We never asked them to do it, but we never tried to stop them either. I suppose that is our fault.”

“Well, I guess in that sense, it's not too much of a problem,” Flug said. “Villains do help other villains from time to time.”

“Yes, but they usually expect something in return,” Black Hat added.

“Like what?” Melanie asked in annoyance. “Dita was a baby. She couldn’t give me anything.”

“You should have asked your parents for something in return,” Black Hat replied.

“There was never anything I really wanted from them, unlike now…” Melanie muttered out loud thinking about her freedom.

Black Hat chuckled aloud and said, “Well, you know how to earn that. Focus on your studies.”

Melanie angrily swallowed her food and said, “So, do I have to download and study a syllabus before tomorrow morning?”

“Oh, no,” Flug said taking a page from his notebook, folding it into a paper airplane, and launching it in Melanie’s direction. “Catch.”

Melanie caught the paper plane in her hands, unfolded it, and began reading it.

“So, Melanie, what will you be learning?” Iliana asked obnoxiously.

“There’s one unit on learning the different types of villainy. There’s another unit on correcting my ‘problematic good behavior.’ There’s one on how to form an evil plan, and…” Melanie read out loud before pausing to double-check the last unit to make sure she was reading it correctly. “And Dementia tips?”

“Dementia!” Flug yelled as Dementia and Dita cracked up in the background.

Melanie quickly glanced over the rest of the syllabus while the pair continued laughing.

“So, Melanie, what do you think of it?” Flug asked.

“To be honest, I hate it,” Melanie replied.

“Then, you’ll be sure to learn it the first time,” Iliana said obnoxiously prompting Melanie to roll her eyes.

“Haha! Your plan sucks!” Dementia yelled at Flug.

Flug only replied with a glare.

“To be fair, I was bound to hate any plan that comes from you three,” Melanie retorted.

“Melanie, why must you be so rude?” Faucheuse asked with a pointed look.

“I’m just being honest, Mom,” Melanie replied reaching for another taco. “I don’t want to be here.”

“Well, the plan sounds adequate to me,” Black Hat said. “We will move forward with it.”

“Oh, thank you, Jefecito…” Flug began to gush.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” Black Hat commanded. “You still have to successfully re-educate her.”

“Yes, Jefecito,” Flug sheepishly replied.

“Kiss ass,” Melanie muttered under her breath.

“Melanie, do not be rude to your teacher!” Santa Muerte yelled from down the table. “You will do what Dr. Flug says or there will be consequences. Do you understand me?”

“Whatever,” Melanie said with an eye roll as she went back to her food.

“Speaking of which, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Flug began. “Does your daughter have any other medical conditions than the ones we've already talked about?”

“Well, Melanie does have trouble sleeping sometimes…” Faucheuse replied before getting interrupted by her daughter.

“Maman!” Melanie protested.

“Really?” Flug asked with heightened interest. “Tell me more.”

“It’s no big deal!” Melanie protested. “I just prefer to stay up late. You can play videogames and accomplish more things at night.”

“Is that why you sleep until 2 in the afternoon in the summer?” Dita asked sarcastically.

“That only happened once,” Melanie protested leaning over to stare angrily at Dita.

“Sure,” Dita replied with an obnoxious tone before going back to blowing bubbles in her soda.

“That won’t do for a young lady going to school,” Black Hat said giving Flug a wicked look. “Don’t you agree, Doctor Flug?”

Flug adjusted with goggles maliciously and said, “Yes. I think I know just what to do to help with your daughter’s sleeping problem.”

“How?” Senor Sante Muerte asked.

“I don’t have a sleeping problem, guys,” Melanie protested in annoyance.

“Well,” Flug began completely ignoring Melanie’s protest. “I can alter her medication to help her sleep at a more suitable schedule.”

“That’s a good idea,” Iliana said nodding in approval. “She will need to sleep for school after all.”

"Even during the summer?" Lunet finally said in a rare moment of protest. "Melanie's responsible enough to be in charge of her own sleeping schedule. She has no problems during the school year. She’ll adjust to sleeping for this, too. Besides, sleeping meds can be very dangerous."

“Yeah,” Melanie agreed. “Dr. Flug is a mad scientist. He’ll probably kill me!”

“It’s evil genius,” Flug retorted.

“Well, we can’t have you sneaking around at night,” Black Hat said with a wicked smirk. “Can we?”

"Like you'd be able to stop me anyway," Melanie grumbled under her breath.

“Lunet has a point, Doctor,” Faucheuse said. “Sleeping meds can be dangerous. Can we trust you to handle this without causing any lasting harm to our daughter?”

“No need to worry, Madame,” Flug reassured her. “I will only give your daughter as much as she needs to have a good night’s sleep.”

“Meaning I’ll be dead in about 24 hours!” Melanie protested. “I've played enough videogames, watched enough movies, and read enough books to know that YOU CAN'T TRUST A MAD SCIENTIST!”

“I said…” Flug began in annoyance.

“I don’t care what you think you are!” Melanie interrupted. “You’re just as crazy as the rest of them! There’s no way I’m letting you drug me!”

“You don’t need to worry about anything,” Dementia said ignoring Melanie’s outburst. “Flug helps me with sleeping all the time, and I’ve been fine.”

“That settles it then,” Senor Sante Muerte said. “Since Black Hat deems it necessary, Melanie will be receiving medication to sleep.”

“What?!” Melanie asked sitting back in her chair. “He's gonna turn me into a zombie. I can't believe you're letting him do this."

“Your misbehaving has proven that you can’t be trusted right now, so you had this coming,” Iliana said snobbishly.

“At least, I’m doing something good with my life!” Melanie spat back angrily.

“What is that supposed to mean?!” Iliana retorted.

“Melanie, Iliana, stop it!” Faucheuse chided. “Don’t fight right now! Melanie’s lessons begin tomorrow. Please, let’s enjoy our meal and the time we have left together…”

“She deserves it…” Iliana tried to complain.

“Enough!” Faucheuse retorted. “You will not insult your sister anymore!”

Iliana sat down in a huff. Melanie was on the verge of tears.

She scooted her chair back and said, “I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Then, please just sit with us,” Faucheuse pleaded. “We won’t get to spend as much time together when your lessons begin.”

Melanie sadly nodded, pushed her plate away, and rested her head on the table.

Black Hat rolled his eyes, turned to Flug, and mumbled, “So much melodrama.”

For the rest of the meal, Melanie remained silent except for the occasional comment to herself or to Lunet as her mother rubbed her back and the rest of the family chatted amongst themselves.

#villainous

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snarkybluechristian · 5 years ago

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Villainous: Reform School Chapter 5

The bear and the girl froze on top of the stairs as Flug held the door open for them to walk through.

“Hello, Melanie de la Muerte, » Flug said.

Melanie looked at Dr. Flug as she and 505 cautiously walked through the door and replied, “Hello."

"What have you been up to?" Dr. Flug asked.

“We were having a lot of fun running through the halls, so we decided to run up the stairs,” Melanie said excitedly flapping her wings and flying off 505’s back. “That was so much fun! Hanging out with you has been amazing, 505! I can't believe I still get to stream with you!”

505 blushed and nodded vigorously to show that he felt the same way.

Melanie literally flew into his arms and let him give her a bear hug as the flower on his head grew by a millimeter.

Flug sighed and said, “Be that as it may, must I remind you that this is isn't a vacation? You are here so that I can observe your behavior. So, if you’re going to stay, I'd like to lay out some ground rules.”

Melanie sighed as she dissolved her wings and let herself land on the ground.

"Fine," she said. "So, what are the rules?"

“So, before you think you can get away with any mischief, there are cameras all over the manor, so I can watch you with ease, even if you aren't in my presence,” Flug said gesturing his head towards the camera on the wall. “Lunch will be at 12pm, dinner will be at 6pm and breakfast will be at 8am. You are to take your medication as your parents have told you to, and every two hours I will meet with you wherever you are in the manor to check on you. Absolutely, under no circumstances are you to set foot outside of the manor. Oh, and 5.0.5 already knows this, but please stay out of Black Hat's office. He hates being bothered.”

“Ok,” Melanie replied. “Anything else?”

“Don't touch anything that's not yours,” Flug said. “Don't go in the lab, unless I deem it necessary. Oh, and PLEASE do not ask Dementia what she thinks of Black Hat. Seriously. Don't.”

“Uh...okay...Can we go back to frolicking now?” Melanie asked.

Flug sighed and said, “Fine. I have other... ‘jobs’…to do anyway.”

“Yeah!” Melanie cheered as she unleashed her Reaper wings and landed on 505’s back.

505 squealed joyfully as they started leaping away again until Dr. Flug remembered something important.

“Wait!” Flug yelled.

505's feet screeched to a halt.

“What is it?” Melanie asked in annoyance.

“Your parents looked at your medicine box and saw that you didn't take your meds even though they instructed you to and you take them on a daily basis,” Flug said. “Is that true?”

Melanie sighed deeply. There was no point in lying.

“Yes, it’s true,” Melanie said defensively. “I didn’t feel like behaving for you guys, so I figured I should give you a taste of me at my worst. Besides, it’s not like I owe Black Hat my best behavior.”

“But you do owe your parents your best behavior,” Flug replied. “They left you with us for the night for a reason. So, I think it would be best if you took them.”

Melanie sighed and said, “Fine, I’ll take them tomorrow.”

“I mean today,” Flug said. “It's only 10am. They'll wear off before it's time for you to sleep.”

“But I don't even know where my room is...” Melanie complained.

“No worries,” Flug said pulling her medicine bottle out of his pocket along with a bottle of water. “I have it right here.”

“Bauw?” 505 asked.

“She just needs to take that so it helps her focus,” Flug reassured. “Don't worry. You can go back to playing in a little while. Daddy just needs to help Melanie get settled in.”

Melanie reluctantly took the water bottle and the pill bottle and scowled at Flug as she took her medication.

“Thank you,” Flug said as Melanie dropped the pill bottle into her knapsack. “Now, if you would follow me, I will show you where your room is.”

“Fine,” Melanie said following behind Flug and 505. “It’s not like I could find it on my own. This manor’s bigger than my school.”

“About that…” Flug said.

“What?” Melanie replied.

“You're going to be getting another type of schooling from this day forward.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your parents are going to pull you out of your current school. And I suppose, they, along with myself, will be keeping a closer eye on you to make sure you don't run off to your ‘nun-ja’ friends.”

Melanie looked away sadly. 505 moaned in sympathy.

“And if I were to hazard a guess from previous experience with this sort of thing, I'd tell you that you're going to be re-educated at home, also known as homeschooling, and then sent to Black Hat's Institute if your behavior doesn't improve,” Flug added.

“What do you mean by ‘re-educated?’” Melanie asked suspiciously.

“They're going to re-teach your behavior,” Flug explained. “Mostly, they're going to make you lose your... uh, heroic habits.”

Melanie’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as she asked, “So, you’re going to brainwash me?”

Flug turned around on his heels and said, “Woah, Woah, slow down. This is just re-education. We don't brainwash anyone in this program…” before whispering, “...Unlessifitbecomesourlastresort."

“I heard that,” Melanie said.

“Riiight,” Flug said before he turned back around. “Anyway, let me show you to your room.”

505 whined worriedly.

“Don’t worry, 505,” Flug said rubbing his son’s head. “You can go back to playing with Melanie right after we settle her in. Okay?”

505 moaned affirmatively as Flug turned around to lead them the rest of the way to Melanie’s bedroom.

After a few minutes of silence, Flug opened the door to Melanie’s room for the night.

The room was decorated as well as any guest room could be in that place.

The walls were painted pale yellow-green. The queen-sized bed’s headboard and comforter were white. The bedside table and desk on opposite sides of the bed were also white as was the trashcan next to Melanie’s bed. The darkest thing in that room was the wood floor.

The bathroom attached to the room was decorated similarly.

The room’s most surprising future was the tinted window sitting right in front of the desk. Melanie didn’t think Black Hat wanted his slaves to see anything of the outside world.

Melanie looked around the room being careful not to trip over the large duffel bag that her parents left behind for her. She studied her surroundings silently until Flug interrupted her thoughts.

“You’re lucky,” Flug said. “This room was just renovated.”

Melanie looked at Flug suspiciously and replied, "What did this room use to be?"

“Uh…” Flug said chuckling nervously. “You don’t want to know.”

“That’s reassuring,” Melanie said dragging her duffel bag to the foot of her bed before sitting down.

“You should stick to the normal time your parents have you go to bed,” Flug said as 505 sat down next to Melanie on the bed.

“Ya hear that, 505?” Melanie blurted out without thinking. “We can play videogames all night! Thank God it's summer!"

“Okay,” Flug said with a sigh. “Just don't wander the halls in the middle of the night. That's when the boss likes to pull mischief on anyone who's still up.”

“Sweet!” Melanie said. “Come on, 505! Let's go!”

505 squealed joyfully in response.

“Wait another moment,” Flug said.

“What now?” Melanie complained.

Flug pulled a tracking device out of his pocket.

Melanie noticed it was the same device that Dementia wore around her ankle but was not sure what it was besides that.

“I'd like you to wear this around your ankle,” Flug said. “That way, I can know where you are at all times, even if you decided to break out of here.”

“Do I have to?” Melanie whined as convincingly as she could. “It looks uncomfortable. It could chafe or cut off my blood pressure when I have a growth spurt.”

“Trust me. It’s well-suited for any person, even Dementia,” Flug responded adding an eye roll to that last bit. “It’s even waterproof. In time, you won't even notice it's there.”

Melanie sighed. She knew she was going to win this battle and that was just fine. She could make it malfunction at will, but Dr. Flug didn't need to know that and wouldn't worry about that if she protested its presence.

Dr. Flug crouched on the ground in front of the bed and put the device around Melanie’s ankle.

“Now, I know you can cause technology to malfunction at will, but this device has been updated to send us a signal and a notification of its last known location the moment it malfunctions,” Flug said much to Melanie’s surprise.

Melanie looked at him skeptically.

“Don’t believe me?” Flug asked. “Why don't you test it?”

Melanie telepathically sent a shockwave through every electronic device in the room. The device opened and fell on the floor while a few sparks flashed from it.

Sure enough, Flug got the notification on his phone.

“Ta-da!” Flug said proudly as he picked up the device to make the quick necessary repairs. “How do you like them apples?”

Melanie stared blankly at the doctor in disbelief as he made his repairs and replaced the device back around her left ankle.

“Well, I guess now you can go play with 505,” Flug said happily getting off the floor and heading to the door. “Just remember to follow all the rules and you’ll be fine.”

Flug had just exited the room and shut the door behind him when he received a message on his device from Black Hat asking him to come to his office. He quickly replied to the message and made his way to his boss’s office.

As soon as she heard Dr. Flug walk away, Melanie laid on her bed and proceeded to sulk.

Noticing her sadness, 505 rested his head on Melanie's belly to help her feel better.

Melanie smiled and gave the bear another hug around his neck while he scooped her up in his arms and gave her a hug back.

#villainous

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whisker-biscuit · 7 years ago

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Harley Quinn is Not A Good Role Model: Chapter 6

Rated T-M for language and graphic descriptions of violence

Pairing: Dr. Flug/Black Hat

Black Hat has other ideas.

Chapter 6: Therapy 101

10:50 am

Flug tapped energetic fingers against the doorknob of his office, debating whether arriving early would be seen as a sign of preparedness, eagerness or desperation. He had been ready to go for over half an hour and was trying very hard not to rush up. He looked at his digital clock on the desk and counted the individual seconds as they passed. The moment the minute changed to 10:51 he could stand it no more and left his sanctuary in a burst of anticipation.

As he started down the hall, a familiar, unwanted coworker came around the corner.

“Oh, Dr. Slys!” Bautista gave a cheerful smile, “I was just on my way to collect you for the session.”

“Um,” the doctor stopped as he was approached. “I thought you got my email last night.”

“Sure did, about my intern? I think it’s a great idea, giving Lauren the kid to deal with. Thanks for the help.” The larger man flicked a thumb briefly against his nose and sniffed.

“I said it’d be a good idea to ask for her input not, not just dump Mart – your intern on her. That’s still your responsibility.” Flug rocked back on his heels to look up, squinting irritably. “And please refer to her as Dr. Rorschach. She’s our superior.”

“Eh, I’ll call people whatever I want. Don’t worry your paper head about it.” There was a dismissive hand wave in his direction. “Anyway, you ready to go? I’m excited to get this one to crack.”

“I thought you said you read my email.”

“Yeah, I skimmed it, why?”

“Well I,” the psychiatrist wrung his hands up his clipboard, “I did some thinking yesterday and I mentioned this in the email, but I…” God, he hated confrontations in person. “I think it might be better if we, if I was the only one working with Black Hat, at least today.”

His colleague’s smile was waxen. “What do you mean, Doctor?”

“The patient seems a lot more comfortable with me than anyone else already, and you – you let some information slip that I didn’t want him to learn.”

“What, your name? Come now, Flug, that’s not really that important –”

“It is, it is to me, alright?” Flug couldn’t quite keep the biting tone out of his voice. “Look, I’m grateful for your help yesterday, I really am, but I really don’t think this case will need more than one psychiatrist. I’m sorry for interrupting your schedule so much already.”

“You’re not interrupting anything,” Bautista peered at him, smile gone now. “But I was under the impression that Patient 513 is incredibly dangerous and needs extra caution. I mean, you wouldn’t shut up about it yesterday. What changed, Flug?”

I don’t trust you to do your job, was the thought that made the doctor’s jaw clench, unseen. But he answered instead with, “I’m worried about the casualty count with so many people. I’m still planning to keep a security guard in the room with me, but if the patient prefers only one psychiatrist – which seems to be the case – I won’t refuse his request unless it becomes unreasonable or dangerous. I hope you understand.”

They stood facing each other, stock still, one face masked and serious and the other slowly turning a shade of violent red.

“I’m taking this up with Lauren,” Bautista threatened, eyes dark. “You think I’m incompetent, Flug? Think I’ll drag your perfect little record down? See how smug you are with a filed complaint against you.”

Flug’s fingers twitched at his side. “I’d be willing to discuss it with you and Dr. Rorschach, when time permits. I’m sure we can come to a compromise for everyone. But I’ve already requested the changes to the director. I’m sorry, but I have an appointment with a patient and I’m going to be late.”

He had to skirt along the wall to avoid touching his angry colleague, who refused to budge to make space for him. The psychiatrist felt a bitter, biting gaze on him until he turned the corner, and his teeth grinded together at the absurd politics of it all.

This was why he worked better with the inmates. Fewer games.

...

I was not able to sleep more than two hours at a time after my third encounter with my would-be therapist. Of course, that is not to say I had slept particularly well the evening before, either – plans of escape and wariness of a new environment puts a damper on one’s ability to relax, after all. But last night I was up for a very different reason.

Ninety minutes with this human who has so strangely caught my interest.

I must say I could not predict what that would entail. I have been the subject of attempted “psychological analysis” before, but it had been more of a plan by the authorities to draw a confession from me. When I realized this, I had only done the logical thing before making my escape.

Dr. Hyde passed away recently from medical complications, if I’m not mistaken.

But this…I could not detect an ulterior motive from Dr. Flug Slys. It might have been good acting on his part – highly unlikely – or a misjudgment on mine – nearly impossible. It is not something I encounter often among humans, regardless of their social status. Today would be an excellent chance for me to probe at him as he struggled to do the same. I was going to learn about this man, and why he was so fascinating, and how I might use that to my advantage.

It would be a lovely way to pass the time until my inevitable liberation from this depressing place.

When my doctor unlocked my cell door and fumbled pitifully inside with another guard, I was waiting impatiently in the center of the room.

“You’re late,” I hissed in mild irritation. I did not have access to a clock here, not yet, but I felt this truth in my being. The resulting apologetic flinch confirmed my instinct.

“Ah, yeah sorry, I was d-dealing with a…an internal issue. It t-took longer than I thought it would.” Dr. Flug rubbed his arm in sheepish cowering. He appeared distracted and I could not have that.

“Then you would do well to remember where your priorities lie, Flug. Tardiness is unacceptable.”

“Of c-course, of course,” he gave me a long look, and I smirked in return. “So I guess we should g-get started then, um. Are you, would you prefer t-to stand there or would you rather sit down? It’s a long session.”

“I’m aware of how long it is, Flug. Don’t patronize me.” I watched the armed guard carefully. “I don’t feel comfortable setting myself up so vulnerably while that man is present. I will sit when he leaves.”

“Oh sorry, we c-can’t do that. I – we can’t have a repeat of t-two days ago. It’s just a precaution until we can c-confirm our safety, you understand.” My doctor raised and lowered his clipboard several times. “But m-maybe I can have him s-stand by the door while w-we talk, if you’re willing to c-cooperate.”

“I suppose I can’t ask for much more than that,” I conceded begrudgingly. They really were getting smarter. What a shame. “Very well, I will sit over here, on my…mattress, if you will at least step away from your bodyguard for a more private conversation.”

“Sounds, uh, sounds fair.” But Flug waited until I had taken the initiative and placed myself on the raised padding before coming any closer. There was still a light limp to his step that sent a thrill of satisfaction through my wrapped hands.

I crossed my legs and smiled pleasantly. “So Dr. Flug, where is your colleague? I had assumed he would be here. Or is he prone to lateness as well?”

Something tense settled in my doctor’s shoulders. “Dr. Bautista won’t be joining us today, or h-hopefully any day. You, uh, if I can make the observation,” he cocked his head at me, “you didn’t seem to like him very much.”

“You may make that observation, and I will confirm it. Your coworker is a buffoon.” I watched as he tensed further. There was an expression in the reflection of his goggles that I couldn’t yet pinpoint.

“Oh no, he’s an intelligent man, please don’t say that,” Flug held his clipboard to where his mouth might be under that bag. “He just, we just thought it would be easier to have one psychiatrist in this session instead of two.”

“Please. That man’s egotism is plastered over every exaggerated action he makes. I’ve seen it before, and have no interest in tolerating it.”

As I watched, my doctor’s left hand reached up to run along the bottom rim of his bag, and he risked a glance at the present security, who was not interested nor interesting. When he looked back to me, I saw his hesitance become conviction.

“Is there…anything else that concerns you? Is that the only reason you don’t want him to sit in on our sessions?” Calculation. Determination. Motive. He wanted my answers for something, and I couldn’t hazard a guess at what that was.

Intrigued, I responded. “There are many reasons I have no interest in him, Dr. Flug. He has no sense of subtlety, for one, and cannot grasp at the concepts of perception and observation. Not a promising aspect of someone trained to rehabilitate criminals.”

My doctor was furiously writing my reply, possibly word for word by the way his pencil moved. He finished shortly and glanced upwards. “Is that, is that it?”

“No sincerity, either. I wouldn’t trust him with my scheduled mealtimes, much less my personal details.” As he continued scribing every accusation, I studied the way his shoulders remained tense, excited almost. The expression I had seen past his bag was increasing tenfold, and my eyebrows lifted as I recognized it.

It was mirth. He was trying to keep from laughing, trying to keep himself from revealing to me or our guard that he was enjoying this. I took the challenge.

“Would you like to know what else?” I asked innocently. Flug nodded, fast then slow, careful not to appear too eager. I uncrossed my legs. “He has no regard for you, and I assume that extends to his other coworkers as well.” I watched in glee as his hold on his pencil tightened in subconscious agreement. “He does not realize what the risks are in this job, nor what it means for you when he so offhandedly gave me the way to learn your name.”

There was a stop in the sound of granite on paper, and my psychiatrist looked up at me warily. He hadn’t forgotten our exchange yesterday, it seemed. I had not either, and although I still very much wanted to know the origin of his name, I bypassed the question in the air to ask a different one.

“May I ask why you want to know so much about your colleague, Doctor?”

“Oh, um,” Flug danced from one sneakered foot to the other. “We j-just like to document c-complaints from patients a-about…everything. For reference and uh, review.”

So he planned to use my testimony as leverage against his coworker. Without my permission. Unbelievable. In any other situation, I would have been provoked at best and murderous at worst. Even now, I could feel indignation bubbling up in a familiar spill.

“So my words will be shared with others without my consent?” I didn’t stand but drew my shoulders to full form. Irritation oozed along my tongue. “Are you telling me, Flug, that patient confidentiality means so little here?”

The little imp jerked back as if I’d scorched him. “No, n-no I didn’t – that’s not w-what I meant a-at all! I –”

“Perhaps not, but it’s what will happen, you naïve idiot.” I trembled to keep myself on the mattress. Any action that could be perceived as threatening would cut our time short, and I did not yet want that. Still, staying my hand was difficult.

“If y-you d-don’t want your p-preferences r-reviewed, I c-can keep it p-private!” Flug shook like the pathetic waif he was. His knees knocked together, making a sound that set my teeth on edge. I wanted to break them.

“You better see that it does, Flug, or else I will not be so hospitable,” My hands curled, sharp and stuck under their abhorrent restraints. “I will let you know when I want or don’t want something, and I will be very clear about it. Don’t you ever use my words without my permission.”

“I, I won’t,” the human took a moment to try to calm his tremors. “I p-promise I won’t.”

“Good. I’ll know if you’re lying.” I took my own moment, to let the anger drain from a cascade to its more regular hum. It was hard when my doctor couldn’t stop knocking his goddamn knees. “Would you kindly stop shaking, Flug!”

He sat down where he was, in the middle of the room, and the vexing sounds ceased. As my breath slowed and my irritation diminished, I noticed that Flug was forced to tilt his chin up to meet my gaze. I looked down at him and felt…hmm.

“What?” My doctor blinked quizzically and I schooled my expression with practiced ease.

“Nothing, Doctor. Simply grateful you can follow orders so promptly.” How curious. My sense of dominance was fairly common when I had power over a human in any form. Here, I could not deny that I had little hold of Flug beyond basic fear, but his position now brought forth that feeling of control, shallow but present at the base of my hat. I knew very well the influence of posture and placement in displays of dominance, but this felt distinctly different than usual.

Fascinating.

Of course, Flug took that moment to stand back up, destroying the bizarre scene and the thoughts it evoked. I waited impassively as he collected himself and filed away this discovery to consider later, when I was left alone again.

“Alright so,” my psychiatrist gave me a guarded, narrowed stare. I wondered what he might have picked up on. “I think it m-might be best if we move onto a – a different topic.”

I didn’t grace that with a response, and it made him nervous.

“Okay, um, okay. Let’s t-talk about,” Flug tapped at his left heel with his right toe. “Actually, how about you p-pick?”

This was new. I had never been asked to decide the source of discussion in meetings with ‘the right side of the law’. But it was irrelevant. I was finished with this session as soon as I learned my words would be used. It was time to end it.

“Mm,” I considered him. “Is there anything off-limits?”

“No, I, you can talk about a-anything you’d like.” He tapped at his right heel with his left toe. It was symmetrical to his previous action. “It can be trivial, or serious, or w-whatever.”

“Very well,” I shifted in my seat and leaned forward, showing teeth. “Let’s discuss you, Dr. Flug.”

“M-Me?!” My doctor squeaked, tugging at his bag. It was quite amusing. “I don’t think we should –”

“I believe you said I would choose the topic, and I have. If I am to share anything, I must know the little psychiatrist who hasn’t fled yet and seems to have a death wish.” Every word made Flug closer to the image of frightened prey. I took in a breath of the fear.

“Well, ah…” He was tense as a violin bowstring, and I waited for the inevitable, fourth time he would flee from me. “I mean, th-that is, I d-don’t think…” Any second now. It was in his body. He brought his shoulders to the bottom of his headwear. “I think, I…you know w-what? Fine.”

…What?

I blinked, dumbfounded, as he continued. “You’re r-right, I can’t e-expect this to go anywhere without, without t-trust. If we’re – if we s-start here, I guess it’s as g-good a place as any. Just…nothing a-about my name. Or the bag. O-Okay?”

I could not help it, my jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

This was not expected in the slightest. Every encounter with this creature, every mention of his name or personal life, sent him skittering like a spider caught in an open room by a human holding a newspaper. I couldn’t fathom why it was any different now.

“You h-heard me. Um. Ask, ask away, I won’t mind.” Flug’s hands flitted along his bag and clipboard.

It took longer to compose myself than I wanted him to see. My teeth cracked together into perfect symmetry and I stayed very still, looking my doctor up and down for signs of deceit. Once again, I failed to find any.

“Very well, Dr. Flug,” I hissed, frustrated. “Why do you bother toiling in a place like this? Surely someone of your…stature would be better suited in a place not so dangerous to your personal health. Maybe a lab, instead?”

“Nah, research has too many d-deadlines,” he answered fairly quickly, obviously acquainted with the inquiry. “And uh, for your first question, it’s j-just something that’s always felt right. You know? Something th-that kinda just clicks?”

I did know. It was the experience of villainy, in any and every form, that gave me that sense. I didn’t share that with him.

“You cannot expect me to believe it is only out of the goodness of your heart that you’re here, Flug.” I would have propped my elbows on my legs if not for this accursed jacket. Instead I settled with a slight lean to my right, towards my doctor.

“Ah, the m-money isn’t a small f-factor either, I guess,” Flug was relaxing, millimeter by precious millimeter. “But I’m n-not really here for m-much else. Just,” he rubbed at the back of his head, “wanna give others a ch-chance, you know? Who, might not h-have had it until now.”

“Do you think I deserve a chance, Doctor?” It was not as sarcastic as he would interpret it. I actually wanted to know his answer. “Am I someone who did not have that before?”

“Well I don’t know, I d-don’t know your history.” He looked at me, this lovely little enigma of paper and anxiety. “But I am absolutely w-willing to offer what I can. If you’ll have me.”

The choice of words made me chuckle. “If I’ll have you, Doctor? What are you implying? What goes on in these padded rooms, exactly?”

Flug was visibly red through his bag, which I wasn’t aware was possible and took great greedy pleasure out of. “I mean! I mean I didn’t mean! Not – that’s disgusting!”

He hit his clipboard against his face when the embarrassment became too much, babbling apologies and repulsion at the thought of anything at all. Quite the prude he was. My eyes drifted over to the security guard, who leaned against the door in clear apathy. His gaze was on some point far to the left. My doctor was still hiding his shame. Neither party was paying real attention to me.

I risked a shift to the end of the mattress where I sat. The guard did not stir, and Flug was busying himself with goggles practically buried in his notes. I tilted my head, calculating.

“What does ‘offering what you can’ entail exactly, Doctor? Is it merely counsel or does it extend to…physical therapy?” My grin was large.

The little wreck pressed the clipboard hard against what I assumed was his forehead, eyes covered completely. With a subtle glance at the oblivious guard, I stood very, very slowly. It went unnoticed even as I rose to my full height and didn’t move further.

“Really Flug, I’m flattered. For all my charm, I can’t say I get offers like this often.” One slide of a step, silent as death. “But I have a reputation to uphold, even in a promiscuous place as this seems to be.” Another slide. Four more to go, give or take. “What would the other villains say if they heard – can you imagine? Me, the greatest threat to mankind that ever lived, giving in to such basic, immoral, fleshy temptations.”

With every step closer I pitched my voice lower, creating the illusion of maintained distance. I probably did not need the caution. The idiot security was practically turned around, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. Flug’s eyes were closed, mumbling German things like “Bitte stoppen” and “Warum iche?”

I could smell his panic now, clear and strong and constant. Humans had the tastiest reactions. And without the doctor’s realizing it, I was standing over him, almost intoxicated by the rush of it all. I might have been stripped of my powers but stealth would never be an issue, it seems.

How I wished my arms were free in that moment. If I had all my limbs, all of them at my disposal, I could have done anything I desired. But one doesn’t need arms to contain, to restrain. I leaned close, planning to sink a hungry maw into that open vulnerable jugular, when I was forcibly stopped.

It was not because I was spotted that I was compelled to cease my ambush. Quite the contrary – the two were still flustering pathetically over my words. But it was Flug that made me stop, because I sensed something in that instant that forced me to reevaluate my summary of the doctor.

You see, there is an ambience of sorts that surrounds humans. Not so much an aura, as many so-called psychics would claim, but more a collective of their thoughts and actions and mood. It mostly manifests as a sort of darkness, although not one that anyone can see. It is a feeling, like the warning in your gut that tells you in no implicit terms to stay away, to beware. Most humans are not tuned into this frequency, for they scoff at the idea of a sixth sense, of the supernatural, of something they cannot measure or explain away. The few I have met that are in tune usually don’t have the instincts or training to pick up on the more subtle nuances of The Dusk, those people who hide their true selves so well. I myself am a connoisseur of it, like a wine taster at a banquet. Darkness recognizes darkness, so they say.

Being in a place like this, with so many humans and criminals shrouded lovingly in their dark ambiance, can cause a sort of thickness in the air not very different from a fog. Captivating as it is for a being like me, it often results in a jumble of confusion, as it is difficult to distinguish one Dusk from another.

Perhaps that is why I had not noticed the beautiful, sickening sense misting my doctor until this moment.

It was such a revelation that I could not bring myself to attack Flug as I would have otherwise. Instead, I absorbed the heady gloom like a chain smoker does the first pack of the day. It was a delectable taste as well – the quiet, unassuming kind that churns your stomach for reasons you cannot place, an uneasiness that is questioned and brushed off as paranoia even as it lingers. The sneaky ones are the most enjoyable at times.

And my dear doctor was very sneaky indeed.

Having wasted precious seconds, I reluctantly brought myself back to the physical plane and came so close to Flug that my cheek was nearly touching his bag. I whispered in his ear in the same way two days ago when I had assaulted him. But this was not a threat of the same nature, no. This was a sweet, sweet promise prompted by the wonderful feast he had unknowingly offered to me.

“Oh Flug, you should have told me. Your darkness is delicious.”

“Eeee!!” My doctor squeaked high enough to break glass and jumped at least a meter backwards, like one’s startled pet cat. He fell onto his rear and I laughed, loud and harsh and uninhibited, even as the guard finally did his job and corralled the terror-stricken human out the door in one fell swoop.

They left shortly after, but it did not matter. Our session was nearly over anyway, from what I could guess, and what had originally been a plan to settle curiosity from my overseer and formulate an escape became a wonderful, audacious need to taste more, to consume more of that sly little flavor from a little human Slys.

My dark little doctor.

Y’all thought Flug was the thirsty one but Black Hat has just found an oasis in a desert lol

#villainous #villainous au #asylum au #dr flug #black hat #paperhat

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whisker-biscuit · 7 years ago

Text

Harley Quinn is Not A Good Role Model: Chapter 9

Rated T-M for language and graphic descriptions of violence

Pairing: Dr. Flug/Black Hat

Black Hat has other ideas.

Chapter 9: Feeling Are Illogical

This has been quite the peculiar day.

First in the matter of its abnormality was that my two most frequent sentries, who have been silent as death in their vigil since my arrival, had become unnervingly unconcerned with the danger their job entailed – guarding me, the most harrowing thing – and were now seeing fit to chat between themselves like a pair of irritating school children standing in a lunch line. I did not care to learn their names, I did not care to hear their conversation, and I did not care to let them know how much their inattentiveness irked me. Comfortableness leads to error, after all. So I retreated to the far corner of my cushioned cell in its limited refuge.

I stayed in that position for so long that I lost track of time and forgot myself and my surroundings, feeling instead the tug of the subconscious and falling into the depths of my ingenuity. I was still aware of any changes in the physical world, but for all intents and purposes I was not actually there. If not for the damned collar around my neck, it would have become a literal thing as well.

When I came back to myself some hours later, it was to find dear Dr. Flug conversing with my jailors in abhorrent chumminess. It was enough to bring an angry tint to my eye that the psychiatrist must have noticed, because he turned in that moment and we made eye contact. I knew he had been discussing me – it was written all over his sagged, sacked face. I joined the little powwow in my own terms and learned exactly what was going on.

My anomaly proceeded to surprise me yet again, demanding my attention and my word. Such a manner of action I would normally perceive as rude and unbecoming, but on his visage it could almost be considered brave. It was enough to intrigue me, and when he correctly guessed that I was indeed a creature of my word, it pleased me for reasons I could not immediately distinguish.

His disgusting, syrupy smile threw me off even more so, and I was forced to retreat again, defeated even as my opponent failed to realize his participation. I loathed and luxuriated in the feelings it brought and gnashed my teeth at the troublesome contradictions.

Now, the complexities of language have always been one of the few aspects of culture I can truthfully say I appreciate from the unfortunately domineering species on this planet. Metaphors, word plays, and related nuances are especially interesting to watch as they change and develop over the decades. Some, of course, are less interesting than others. I’m not particularly fond of the phrase ‘it never ceases to amaze me’ yet am often amused by it, because humans as a whole have such pathetic minds that it’s no wonder they are constantly in awe of the things they can’t grasp – which is quite the multitude, I can assure you.

Occasionally I am forced to concede the usefulness of phrases such as that one, and this was one of those instances. Dr. Flug Slys had so far exceeded every expectation, sidestepped almost every snare, and caused contradictions that I very rarely experience from humans. I hated that, hated how I have been unable to read him so readily as I have so many others. That wasn’t even mentioning his darkness, which I still had yet to fully pinpoint and desired to know every juicy morsel about it. It was thrilling and perplexing and altogether something I was not used to.

‘Not used to’ was not a sentence I have needed to use to refer to myself in a very, very long time.

The day took an abrupt turn after that to territory resembling a circus act, if I may be frank. A group of medical doctors came to my hallway corner, accompanied by Flug who buzzed around as a dumb little busy bee. They all fretted and fussed over a giant blue bear wearing a fitted green sweater, of all things. It was downright deplorable.

Just as my psychiatrist had informed me, this pitiful excuse for an inmate was ushered into a neighboring padded room and I took the risk of inching along one wall to obtain a better look at the procession. Flug was wrapped in the bear’s gigantic arms, whispering his psychologist promises and making a fool of himself, but the others did not seem to notice or mind it. Infuriating.

Most of the physicians gave mumbled opinions and medical babble and were content enough to leave mere minutes after their source of scrutiny was successfully stuck in its cell. A few were stupid enough to look in the direction of my window, but I knew they couldn’t see me. Lights of all kinds – electrical, oil, fluorescent, it didn’t matter – would always malfunction in periods of long exposure to my presence, and at nearly five days these ones were too far gone to recover.

It took far too long, but eventually the only ones left were the bear, Flug, and my two barely-vigilant but ever-present security force. The new inmate gurgled in some vague semblance of sanity and speech and I could feel my lips curl involuntarily in disgust. But I had told Dr. Flug that I would not provoke unless made to do so, and I am a fiend of my word.

My psychiatrist finally spoke words that no longer dripped sickening honey, and it perked me into giving my attention.

“It’ll only be for a-a little while, okay? No longer than two weeks, your doctor promised me. Look, I even brought all your toys and things, see? We can arrange them later or play with them if you’d like.”

The bear sat despondently in his room, unwilling to let go of Flug even as the doctor attempted to bring his gaze towards some stuffed animal. I scoffed at the sight and received an actual, heated glare from my anomaly. He was growing balls yet again.

“Okay, 505, I need you to listen carefully. There’s another patient i-in that room over there, see that? No, I know you can’t see him in the dark, I can’t see him right now either but he’s there, okay? Now he’s my newest patient, the one you smelled earlier – easy! It’s alright, he’s not gonna hurt you!”

I flicked one eyebrow up in unconcerned enjoyment as Flug tried unsuccessfully to keep his giant, heavy, struggling bear from knocking over his sad little painting canvas. They didn’t so much wrestle but awkwardly fumbled around, one having the sensible goal to get as far away from my room as possible and the other trying to hold him. I decided I’d help things along.

“Perhaps there is something I could do, dear doctor?”

The instant freeze-up from patient and guardian was downright hilarious. I stepped again to my window and offered my most winning smile. The bear, 505 as he seemed to be called, gave a lovely little whimper and became as still as a hunted deer. Flug expressed the further growth of his distasteful disrespect by planting himself in front of the creature and crossing his arms.

“I thought we p-promised you wouldn’t mess with him.”

Saying ‘we’ instead of ‘you’ – a common trope most used to avoid blame or individual responsibility. I had the distinct notion he frequented this phrase far too often.

“Why, Dr. Flug, we did indeed, but I am not ‘messing with him’ as you so crudely imply. I am simply offering my services in your patient’s readjustment. Surely there is something I can do?”

“N-No thank you.” My psychiatrist clenched his teeth in a wonderful grating of bone and turned his back – turned his back on me! – in order to give his full attention to the sniffling bear. “505, it’s really okay. I asked him to leave you a-alone and he will, I promise. There are cameras up here and he can’t get out –”

“Don’t bet your life on that, Flug.”

“…He can’t get out and I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ll visit every single day instead of every two, and we’ll do finger painting tomorrow just like I said we would. Alright?”

505 had enough instinct to keep his bulging eyes on me even as he nodded. They hugged, a long and nauseating process, and then Dr. Flug removed himself from the room, closing the door. I could no longer see the bear and would have to move my position to do so, but instead I remained where I was as my psychiatrist marched up to my window with a squeaky little hiss.

“W-What are you doing?”

“I’m standing here, Doctor.”

“You know e-exactly what I mean,” he took ahold of his headwear and tugged at it none too gently. “I had your, your word. You said you’d leave h-him alone.”

“So I did.” I made an observation of his body language, having never encountered it before. Angry bag creases around the goggles, which itself was doing nothing to mute the furious betrayal in his eyes. He was rigid – a common occurrence but the foreign emotions were adding a layer of fight to his stance instead of the usual flight. His fists were trembling only just.

I narrowed my eyes in contemplation of what these changes looked like on my doctor and what I thought of it. He was still glaring at me expectantly, so I threw him a proverbial bone.

“I was simply offering my assistance, Dr. Slys. I have never gone against my word and I have no plans on doing so now. I will leave your 505 alone so long as he leaves me be in return.”

“But you – he w-wasn’t – fine. Just, fine. I’ve g-got enough to worry about right now, I won’t p-poke the hornet’s nest.” He pressed the palms of his hands against his goggles, pushing them into his face. No doubt that was very painful.

“An excellent idea, Doctor. I’ll pass your courteousness along to the hornets.”

Flug shook his head in disbelief and took one last measured glance at the bear, who was peeking carefully out of his barred window. They waved pitifully at each other before the psychiatrist left, and I kept my eyes on him for as long as I was able. My guards trotted along dutifully after him, my guess to gossip.

This 505 character had his terrified gaze on me and I felt all my previous irritation return full force. I gave him a clear look of distain and he whined and shuffled but did not hide. I raised an eyebrow.

��It appears we are at an impasse, bear.” I lounged lazily against my door. “I cannot provoke you without due cause, and although your mere presence is quite vexing you haven’t actually done anything to warrant my aggression. At least, not according to our dear doctor.”

The bear made a noise that I suppose could technically be classified as speech. It was barbaric, but easy enough to decipher.

“Because he asked me not to, and I vowed to him that I would not. Is that really so hard to believe, bear?”

There was a reply that told me in no uncertain terms that yes, it was very hard to believe. He sniffed the air and shuddered, providing another topic for the pointless conversation.

“So you can smell me? That isn’t uncommon among animals. I have a magnetic presence to many species.” Except humans – the dense, ignorant whelps that they were. “What of it?”

‘Why doctor smell like you?’

“I am his patient, bear, same as you. We don’t participate in…infernal displays of affection as unprofessional as you displayed earlier, but I have reminded him of his place. Surely you have noticed his limp from days ago?”

‘Dark spot,’ the bear looked down at himself. I could see only to his neck and assumed he was referring to his chest or stomach.

“Dark spot? Do you mean a bruise?” The affirming nod made me chuckle. “Yes, that would be my mark. I have not seen it, personally, and I’m surprised you had that chance. Flug seems rather prude. What was the coloring?”

My unwanted neighbor grimaced and pointed at me. It took me but a moment to realize.

“A black bruise? Oh, how wonderfully nasty.” I tilted my head as the bear swallowed nervously and fidgeted. He seemed to share some traits with his care provider. “I can’t help but notice you are not restrained as I am. How have you managed that, bear?”

Shoulders shrugging and befuddled blinking were my answer. It set a bothersome twinge of jealousy into the brim of my hat, but I supposed it made sense. This thing was no danger to anyone. If I was being begrudgingly honest, he really didn’t belong in this place, either.

I wondered if Flug shared a similar thought.

“Bear, I have another question.” He shook in place and it made me roll my eyes. “Come off it, I am only keeping up our small chat as a matter of necessity. I do not have the privileges to pass the time as you seem to.”

This we seemed to agree on, at least, because the patient unfurled himself just a little and responded fairly less hesitantly. ‘What?’

“What do you think of your doctor?”

‘Oh,’ he cocked his big fluffy head at me, almost enough to trigger my gag reflex. ‘Good doctor, friend. Helps me. Plays with me. Best friend!’ This statement was topped off with a horrendously cheerful, dimpled smile that had me flexing my claws within their confines. My accursed collar beeped at me in warning.

“Is that all? Just shallow, silly things?” I started to turn away, feeling like I had wasted time even in its abundance.

‘Broken. Like me.’

I stopped short and snapped my neck around to meet his gaze. I was so startled that I didn’t take pleasure in the bear’s wince from the sound of cracking bones. He looked very unsettled at my change in attitude but I cared very little to keep up appearances with this morsel of information just beyond my reach.

“What do you mean, broken.” It was expected of him, demanded of him, and he knew it.

‘Ah, ah…’ the patient tucked his snout just below the window, to where I could not see his mouth. ‘I’m broken. Hurt. Hurt by people. Hurt by –’ the bear cut himself off and started whining nonsensically. I recognized the signs of distress and was forced to back down in remembrance of my promise to my doctor.

“Goddamn it.” It took every ounce of willpower I had to step away from my door, but I did it successfully and sild down against the wall, crossing my legs and listening to the cursed bear whine and whimper and slowly come back to himself.

I waited until there was definite silence from his side before I returned to my feet and peered out the window. I could see about half of the bear, laying on the floor and cuddling pathetically with a stuffed purple whale.

Every time I learned something about Dr. Flug, it only seemed to lead to more questions. He had a delicious sort of darkness, and from what I gathered was very protective of his inmates to the point of gaining a rare expression of bravery. There was little doubt he would go to great lengths for the bear, if not all of his patients. It made me wonder whether he’d extend that protectiveness to my person.

He was also apparently ‘broken’, but in what way and how much remained to be seen. It frustrated me greatly, forced to watch my words and my actions in this horrible prison when all I wanted to do was take.

That bear was a nuisance. He was a nuisance even before he arrived, for causing my confrontation with my doctor and making Flug act the way he did, the root of my bemusing contradictions. The bear was even more of a nuisance now that I knew he had such valuable information but could crack so easily. I would have to tread very carefully to get what I desired.

One thing was undoubtable however – this patient was more useful to me than I first thought. How useful exactly was the question, but the feeling in what passed as my ‘gut’ told me it was very, very much so. And it all revolved around one solitary little twig of a human who hid his identity behind paper and seemed just as breakable.

A most peculiar day indeed.

Just a few more chapters and I’ll be all caught up, hooray!

#villainous #villainous au #asylum au #dr flug #black hat #505

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whisker-biscuit · 7 years ago

Text

Harley Quinn is Not A Good Role Model: Chapter 2

Rated T-M for language and graphic descriptions of violence

Pairing: Dr. Flug/Black Hat

Summary: Dr. Flug Slys is a successful psychiatrist working at one of the world's most respected mental institutes for the criminally insane. But this new patient is unlike anything he's ever encountered. Flug is determined to help him, nonetheless.

Black Hat has other ideas.

Chapter 2: The Doctor Didn’t Order This

Ironically, the next day happened to be one of Flug’s idler in terms of schedule. He had one morning check-in with a patient on floor 3 whose primary psychiatrist was out sick, several reports due by noon (which he had already finished a long while ago), and so by 13:40 he was already waiting by the director’s office on the first floor.

The doctor checked his watch for the umpteenth time and counted the seconds going round. He dropped his arm and began bouncing on the balls of his feet. There was a quick run-through of his bag for crinkles. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the folds of his coat. He looked at his watch again – 13:41.

There was a shout from outside.

Flug startled and flitted to the nearest window facing the front of the building. He peered out and his heart jumped. There were ten of the institute’s security team, along with easily fifteen or so armed guards from Interpol. They surrounded an armored truck parked several feet from the entrance. The truck was rocking back and forth.

The truck was rocking back and forth.

With tripping feet Flug ran back to the director’s office and knocked on her door as respectfully urgent as he could. “Dr. Rorschach, this is Dr. Slys. The patient is here, he’s – he’s in an armored truck!”

The knob turned and he was face to face with a frame of bobbed orange hair and glasses. Dr. Lauren Rorschach blinked at him, clipboard and case file in hand. Flug gestured helplessly to the window and she made her way over.

“Come now, Doctor. I know he’s high-profile, but surely that’s a bit of an exaggeration.” She adjusted her glasses and looked out at the scene. Her face paled. “That’s…unnerving.”

Flug joined her at the window. The truck was still shaking violently and several guards were crowding around the back doors, all carrying riot shields while one unlocked it with a finger scan. The two psychiatrists shared a stunned stare.

“Ma’am, f-forgive me for my hesitance, b-but you mentioned he’s a high profile criminal?”

“I did. I’m ah, I’m sure you read his file.” Dr. Rorschach brought a hand to her mouth.

“Well y-yes but, this is…Doctor, do you know why they, I-I mean…what is he?” He was really starting to regret accepting the invitation.

Outside, the guards had successfully opened the truck and were moving in two at a time. An unholy shriek reverberated from inside like a shock wave across the estate. Flug convulsed. His superior jolted and their hair stood on end. She parted her lips, drew in a breath, and began reciting policy.

“We, we at the Global Psychiatric Medical Center for the Criminally Insane are – are proud in our welcoming of patients from all walks of life, regardless of notoriety or –” the truck bounced, and Dr. Rorschach grimaced, “species. I knew this patient would be…a little different than the usual, they told me he’s not human, but this…”

“This is insane.” Flug finished with a shudder. He had read the case. No current photos on file, no prior background knowledge beyond convicted crimes, and only an alias – Black Hat – with a very vague “Not Human” under the species category.

There was another shriek as six guards carried out what seemed be a stretcher at first glance. But both doctors did a double take because it wasn’t a stretcher, it was a container. As in, sci-fi Area 51 alien containment container. Rectangular with smoothed corners, made of white-painted metal bolted in every conceivable crack, and with one tiny circle of a window near one end that was no doubt bulletproof.

Six guards ended up not being enough, because two started to shake, but Flug couldn’t say whether it was because of whatever was inside of it or if it was just the sheer weight of the thing. The result was nine Interpol officers and two security members taking the monstrosity up the steps toward the entrance. Dr. Rorschach seemed to snap out of her trance.

“Oh, we need to be there to greet them! Hurry Doctor!” She took long strides down the hall and turned the corner to the front lobby, and Flug struggled to catch up.

“With all d-due respect, Ma’am, I don’t think this is a g-good idea.”

“It’s not,” the director confirmed, lips pressing into a line. She was still shaking. “But Interpol offered us a great deal of revenue if we accepted the case. Don’t get me wrong, Doctor, your success is outstanding, but we get paid just as much for admitting patients as we do sending them out.”

They passed the security gate and waited in the middle of the lobby, halfway between the grand doorway and the check-in. Flug touched the bottom of his bag. His superior continued.

“We’ve been informed that this patient, Black Hat, is not really expected to be rehabilitated. They want him contained here. We have some of the best security and safety here, especially on Floor 5. It’s against policy but…I’m sorry, Dr. Slys. I couldn’t refuse.”

“Ah, n-no, I get it. Money and p-power make the world go round.” He watched two of their staff members open the doors. “I just really wish it d-didn’t, sometimes.”

Dr. Rorschach gave a puff of a laugh before setting up the happy, sunny smile she was so famous for. There were still goosebumps up her arms. The guards carrying the vessel came in first, followed by every remaining Interpol officer. It got crowded very fast.

“Welcome to our institute! We can’t thank you enough for giving us the privilege of such a high-priority assignment.” The words came out steady and natural, as if the director wasn’t just scared out of her wits a minute ago. Flug envied her acting ability. She waited as the lead officer came forward and gave a respectful bow of her head. He returned the gesture and cleared his throat.

“Dr. Rorschach, the pleasure is all mine. I’m Inspector Daniels.” He was much taller than either psychiatrist, and there was a wary, hard tint to his eyes. He made eye contact with Flug, who straightened up a tad. “And I assume you are the psychiatrist assigned to this case?”

“Oh, p-pleased to meet you but I –” His superior subtly shifted next to him. “I mean! I’m Dr. Slys, yes. I’m the attending psychiatrist. Yes.”

The inspector frowned and looked him up and down. “Are you sure you’re…equipped enough to look after this criminal? It’s a very dangerous task.”

Gee, I had no idea. Flug almost rolled his eyes. His fingers twitched. “I assure you, I-Inspector, I’m more than prepared to handle any patient who walks through these doors. We refuse to believe anyone admitted here is beyond help, and the facilities here at the Global Psychiatric –”

“Yes, yes, that’s all well and good,” Daniels shook his head and turned to his officers, who were no longer struggling with the containment unit. It had gone ominously still and silent. “You people can spit up slogans all you like, but this thing here,” he walked over and tapped the glass. Something hissed in response. “He doesn’t play by any rules. Doesn’t respond to threats or intimidation. Certainly doesn’t play nice.”

The director opened her mouth, but the inspector wasn’t done. “Look, Doctors, I have a lot of respect for the work you do. It’s not a global institute for nothing. But we absolutely cannot let this criminal escape. It’s taken decades to catch him, and I need your absolute guarantee that you’ll be able to contain him. Can’t have any…weak links in the chain.” His eyes flickered over to Flug and the doctor just about saw red.

“As I-I already said, Inspector, I can assure you that there will be no issue on my end. I have dealt with the worst society – the world – has produced, and I have no intention of letting one patient change that.” He puffed his chest just a little when Dr. Rorschach nodded in agreement. She vouched for him, at least.

A sound came out of the container, rough and low and repetitive. If Flug gave it more thought than a simple glance, he would have believed it sounded like chortling. Inspector Daniels considered him for a minute, ignoring the disturbance.

“Very well, Dr. Slys, Dr. Rorschach,” he said softly, “I’ll take your word for it. I do, however, expect a statement each week about any trouble you may be having. We’ll take him up to Floor 5. You’ve prepared the cell with the highest security, I assume?”

Flug’s superior nodded again, but a frown marred her face. “You don’t want us to perform orientation down here? We have standard rooms available, it follows procedure –”

“With all due respect, Ma’am, I rather don’t trust anything that’s not a secure cell. We’ve taken every precaution necessary to ensure he isn’t a danger to himself or us, and I’d rather keep those precautions in place. Please let us through the security gate.”

“Of, of course.” Dr. Rorschach turned with a click of her heels and swiped her ID at the entrance, adding her fingerprint scan as well. Daniels and his entourage followed with Flug packed somewhere in between. He thanked the stars the gate was big enough for the container.

The elevator was designed for a maximum of 300 kilograms and big enough for a good thirty people if packed. With twelve people sandwiched around the unit sitting in the center, it was pretty crowded. As they worked their way up, Flug couldn’t help the quick look into the little window in hopes of seeing who was apparently his patient now. It was dark on the other side of the glass, but there was no sign of movement or anything he recognized as a face or body.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief stepping out of the elevator, and they began the long journey down to the end of the Floor 5 hallway. Several curious, sometimes manic patients peered out at the parade passing their rooms, but no one made a sound when they caught eye of the sheer number of Interpol officers. A few chanced a wave to Flug, who timidly raised his hand in response.

Halfway there, they passed Dementia’s cell.

“Whoa, what’s with all the pizazz?” She smooshed her face against the padded bars, mouth hanging open. “Oh hey Dr. Inksplotch, what’s – Flug! ¿Qué pasa? Who’re these stiffs? You bringin’ in a newbie?”

The doctor tried to ignore her, he really did, but she whined louder as they moved on without a word. Profanities started leaking out as well, and Dr. Rorschach smiled a little too cheerfully when Inspector Daniels looked her way.

“Oh, don’t mind our dear patient, she’s always been very inquisitive – very smart for her age. We’ve been working together to help her with,” an irritated ‘¡putos!’ was spit at them from behind, “ah, how to better express herself.” Dementia snarled and disappeared from sight.

At the end of the hallway were four cells made for the most volatile of inmates – padded floor to ceiling like the rest but with a camera and sound system in each room, and double-reinforced walls. The doors were made with titanium and each had three locks; a keypad, a fingerprint scan, and a keyhole. According to records, these rooms had only been used twice, both long before Flug’s employment.

Well, he thought as officers pulled the unit into a cell, there’s a first time for everything, I suppose.

Six Interpol agents stayed in the room along with Dr. Flug and the Inspector. Daniels waited until the director relocked the door from the other side before giving his officers the go-ahead. They braced themselves around the container as he fished a special remote from his pocket and pressed a button.

“You may want to stay behind me, Doctor,” he informed Flug, who complied just as the unit let out a hydraulic hiss and the door unlatched. It was the only warning they had before a black and white thing collided with the nearest officer and knocked her straight into the wall. It kept her pinned and turned its head completely around with a crack, growling at the remaining group who had their weapons out and ready. Neither party moved, and Flug got a good first look at his newest patient.

Black Hat was…underwhelming to look at but terrifying to watch. He wore a top hat and a monocle, and his one visible eye blazed with something otherworldly. He was tied in a fortified straitjacket that was raised dapperly around his neck like the beginning of a cape. A blinking, metal collar sat tight around his throat. His lips curled and showed a mouth full of the sharpest teeth the doctor had ever seen.

“Well, Inspector, it appears we’re at an impasse,” he drawled, civil with a hint of brutality. “You can’t shoot me without hitting your dear officer, and I can’t move in a way that’s beneficial to me.”

“It seems so,” Daniels was motionless. “What will make you release her?”

“You know very well what I want, Marcus,” Black Hat dragged the name out effortlessly, eyes narrowed as the Inspector stiffened. “But I suppose you have no intention of letting me go.”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Very well. Then answer my questions. Where am I? My natural compass seems to be shot today. Must be all the drugs.” He ran a forked tongue over his teeth. “I was under the impression I was being moved to another penitentiary.”

Flug made the very big mistake of stepping just past his Inspector protector. Daniels inhaled sharply and reached for him, but it was too late. Black Hat locked eyes with the trembling doctor.

“This doesn’t look like any officer I’ve ever seen.” His hostage tried to move and he pressed against her into immobility, eyes never breaking contact.

“Ah, uh I’m, I-I am Doctor Slys, licensed c-criminal psychiatrist, and you, you’re at the Global Psychiatric Medical Center for the Criminally Insane. You, um, you’re here for t-treatment.”

“Treatment.”

“Ah, y-yes. For rehabilitation and…reentry into society?”

“I see.” Black Hat’s gaze flicked over to the Inspector. “Attempting humor now, Marcus? I’m flattered, but it’s really not your style. I asked for a location, and I’m getting one. Now.” He leaned into the pinned officer until she choked for breath. The others raised their weapons, but their superior didn’t give the order. He couldn’t risk hurting one of his own.

Flug stumbled forward another step, causing everyone to tense as the inmate growled warning at him. He touched the edges of his bag. “It – it’s not a lie, I swear! My n-name is Doctor Flug Slys, and you have been f-formally admitted to our hospital. I’ve been assigned as your primary psychiatrist.”

“Is that so?” The doctor nodded shakily and the creature glanced around the room lazily. “Quite the first meeting, Doctor.”

“Ah, w-well this was supposed to be your orientation period.” Black Hat lifted a quizzical eyebrow. “Orientation is a w-welcoming period where we d-determine your treatment plan and how b-best to offer our services.”

“Mm…” The inmate scrutinized Flug, but he spread his hand sincerely. The best policy was often frankness, in his experience. Humming, Black Hat turned to the frozen inspector with a further crack of his neck. Everyone winced.

“He’s telling the truth. Your officer is very lucky, Marcus. I’m going to release her now and move a meter to my right. None of you will shoot at me. How does that sound, Marcus?”

Daniels hesitated for a second, but then he looked at the pleading hostage across the room and the pleading doctor in front of him. He nodded almost imperceptibly. The inmate showed teeth again and did exactly as he’d promised, rolling off his captive who darted to the inspector’s side, out of breath. Nobody shot, but nobody moved.

It was Dr. Rorschach, standing outside the cell, who broke the silence. Flug had forgotten she was there. “If you are content, Mr. Black Hat, I’d appreciate if we could formally begin our orientation period. We can ask the officers to leave for patient confidentiality, if you wish.”

Three officers looked ready to protest but were cut off by Daniels. “That works just fine, Doctor. I believe we’re done here anyway.” He gestured for his team to join him at the door, and they crowded around, refusing to turn away from the creature, who offered a winning business smile. Flug didn’t move.

“Aren’t you coming, Dr. Slys?” Daniels’ quiet voice came from beyond the cracked cell door.

“Oh, n-no thank you, I, I still need to consult with the patient.” There was a shuffle outside, and although Flug didn’t dare take his eyes off the inmate on the other side of the room, he could guess what the Interpol officers were thinking. “I’m n-not helpless, Inspector.”

“He’s right,” Dr. Rorschach spoke, a little muffled. “He’s the primary psychiatrist of our lovely patient just down the hall who gave us her thoughts a few minutes ago. They’ve built up a lot of trust. We have cameras inside and our own security right outside, just in case of an emergency. Please, sir,” the lilt in her voice became charismatic, “trust us. Trust our institute. We won’t let you down.”

Flug risked a look in his peripheral vision at the window, where his superior nodded at him and left. He could hear the click, click of her heels and the echoing stomps of every Interpol officer. They continued talking, and eventually their words and voices left the floor.

There was a scoff, and the doctor turned to watch Black Hat slide down against the wall, crossing his legs and leaning his head back. He looked tired. The light on his collar blinked steadily.

“They must not think very highly of you, leaving you alone with me.” His chest expanded slowly, pushing against the straitjacket.

“Ah, well, there are g-guards right outside, Mr. Black Hat. They’re just as c-capable as any trained officer.” Flug recited the policy to keep himself grounded. He tugged at his paper bag. His patient looked miffed.

“Just as incompetent, you mean.” He looked at the paper bag and goggles, unimpressed. “I must say, for such a famous group, they certainly hire the most pathetic humans. You are rather underwhelming to look at, ‘Doctor’.”

It was a new patient. A dangerous patient. He needed to be careful with his words. “I c-can assure you, I am one of the most qualified individuals here.” His fingers tapped his lab coat. “Speaking of that, I think it’s a good time to continue your orientation, if you’d prefer.”

“You mentioned your services. What services?” The inmate uncrossed his legs and stretched them out in front of him.

“Well, uh,” he began counting off his gloves, “counseling, physical and mental healthcare, prescriptions, group therapy…eventually. Depending on behavior.”

A low, raspy chuckle. “Do you think I’m incapable of good behavior, Doctor…?” Black Hat paused, and his mouth twitched low for just a flash. The collar blinked. “Ah, do forgive my impoliteness, but I seem to have forgotten what you mentioned you were called.”

“Oh, oh it’s, uh, Dr. Slys.” Flug usually gave his first name in introductions, but something was telling him it wasn’t a very smart move here. He trusted his gut.

“Slys…” the patient tasted the word, forked tongue curling just under his teeth. “Rather devious name, Doctor. Fitting for someone who works with criminals.”

“I, th-thank you?”

“Mm,” Black Hat bumped his head against the wall and closed his eyes. His top hat didn’t seem to be affected by the physics of it. “Well Dr. Slys, it’s been fun, but I’m afraid I’ve grown uninterested in you now. Do follow the example of your colleague and leave me be.”

Watch your words. You don’t know what your patient is capable of yet. “I’m not a-authorized to do that until we work out a treatment plan. Or at least a schedule for the next few days. I think it would be beneficial to both of us if we –”

“That was not a request, Doctor.” Black Hat opened his eyes and gave Flug a dangerous look. Shivers ran down the doctor’s back. “I said I do not care for your presence anymore, and you’d do well to listen to me. I may be restrained but do not think for a second that you are the one in control.”

The wording was different, but he had heard that tone and implication before. Multiple times. Inmates who thought they were all that, or had been all that, but were ultimately powerless here regardless of threats. It reminded him greatly of Dementia’s first meeting with him, actually.

“Stay the fuck away from me, gringo, and there won’t be a problem.”

He didn’t think. Or he was thinking of Dementia, and how their banter had gone from hostile to something more like pestering within the course of three months, because instead of staying professional, instead of trusting every alarm bell ringing in his head, Flug opened his mouth and said:

“I told you we weren’t done. You want me to leave? Make me.”

Black Hat made no move or sound. There was no change in expression. He was deathly still, eyes trained on expressive goggles, but nausea welled up in the doctor’s stomach and he booked it for the door.

He got three steps.

A heavy body crashed into his back, and Flug fell onto cushioned floor with a thud. Weight pressed onto him from above. It wasn’t like when he had restrained Dementia just the day before. No, this inmate was on top of him from feet to shoulders.

“You have some balls, Dr. Slys,” a voice hissed against his bag, right next to his ear. “It’s almost commendable. But I’ve been in a bad mood for quite some time now, and you,” he pushed against Flug’s back, squeezing his breath out, “are not,” feet pressed hard into his ankles, “helping.”

Flug couldn’t breathe. Buckles and straps dug into him from behind, and if it weren’t for the straitjacket there’d probably be hands at his neck. Hot air against his neck made the doctor shudder. He whimpered once and closed his eyes, waiting for those pointed teeth to bite into him.

But they didn’t.

Instead, Black Hat held him there for only a few seconds before his collar beeped once and he stiffened, making a noise deep in his throat. The locked door chimed and two burly security guards came rushing in, pulling the inmate off and allowing Flug to scramble to his feet and flee. He paused at the door and looked back, watching his patient retreat into the far corner of the room, hissing at the guards in languages Flug wasn’t aware existed. They made brief eye contact and Black Hat’s lip curled again, a promise so definite that the poor doctor almost ran down the hallway. But he waited outside as the guards came through and locked the door. Both turned to look him over.

“Are you okay, Doctor?” The larger one asked, his face creased in worry.

Flug pulled on his bag and checked for tears. Nothing. He patted down his pants and lab coat. Everything was still in place. “I-I’m fine, I’m okay, he d-didn’t hurt me. Thank you gentlemen.”

“It’s no problem, sir.” The other smiled down at him, and Flug took a moment to read their name tags. Lucas and Ben. He’d seen them before on this hall, but they’d never interacted. “We’re here to help. It’s our job, after all.”

“Yes, y-yes, but still, I…” Teeth at his jugular. “I really can’t thank you enough.” He shuddered once. He needed to get back to his office. Back to something safe. “I think I’ll head back down, if you don’t mind.”

Without another word Flug wobbled down the hall, holding his arms and trying to stop shaking so violently. This was not his first encounter with a violent patient. He had been injured before. Really, he needed to calm down. It ended better than it could have.

Dementia popped up as he passed her cell. “So, who’s the new – holy shit, what happened to you?”

The doctor shook his head mutely, giving his patient a weak smile. “Nothing, nothing happened to me. Just a more intense orientation than I’m used to. Don’t worry.”

She cocked her head, eyeing his rumpled bag, but he turned away and began walking again. “I’m fine, Dementia. I’ll see you tomorrow for your session.”

Dementia pouted but didn’t pry. They had an agreement, after all. Some things you didn’t spill until you were ready. Instead she let him go, yelling out after him, “If they start shit again, let me know! I’ll pound them for you!”

It was a nice if impossible offer, and Flug let the support wash over him like his favorite hand sanitizer. He reached the elevator and wordlessly went down. After he was gone, Dementia huffed and sat her chin on the bottom of the window, cheeks bunched up between the bars.

“Ten cuidado, Flug.”

Second chapter up! In this particular story, Dementia is Hispanic and fluent in both Spanish and English, and Flug is German and fluent in German, English, Spanish, and knows some Russian. If I get any translations wrong I’m very sorry, please correct me.

Also, I’m really new at tumblr format, can anyone tell me how to embed links in the text posts so I can link to every chapter for easier access? Thanks.

#villainous #villainous au #asylum au #dr. flug #black hat #demencia #paperhat

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whisker-biscuit · 7 years ago

Text

Harley Quinn is Not A Good Role Model: Chapter 8

Rated T-M for language and graphic descriptions of violence

Pairing: Dr. Flug/Black Hat

Black Hat has other ideas.

Chapter 8: You Win Some, You Lose Some

Lauren Rorschach’s office was well furnished. Her desk was dark mahogany, with hand-carved elephants marching along the bottom rim in wooden jubilee. Two violet couches lined each side wall, both big enough to hold three people individually. The walls were covered top to bottom with personal certificates and achievements, newspaper articles detailing the success of the institute, and one larger-than-life painting of a bowl of food – not the stereotypical fruit but vegetables instead. It was almost like a statement. The only mindless veggies here are in this painting.

Flug wasn’t very comforted by the thought today.

“You seem to have been making some enemies lately, Dr. Slys.” The director peered at her associate from over her glasses. He slumped sheepishly in his seat.

“Ah, y-yeah, I suppose so,” the psychiatrist offered rather weakly. “So uh, I’m guessing that’s why you called me in then.” There was a confirming nod. “Alright, w-what’s first on the roster then?”

“Well, considering Dr. Bautista came into my office earlier without so much as a knock, I’d say that matter might be a little more pressing. At least, according to him.” She quirked an eyebrow, amused at the dislike on her employee’s face – obvious even through his headwear – and continued. “Supposedly you are ‘out to ruin his reputation and slander his good name’, to quote him.”

“I’m n-not doing anything like that! I’m just, he just…I don’t think he’s a good fit for Black Hat’s case. And I wanted to talk about his intern, Martin. Um, Martin Naaji.”

“You did mention the intern in your email a few days ago. Why don’t you want Dr. Bautista with you on the case? I thought we chose him for his physical backup and your nonconflicting schedules.”

“Let’s j-just say some, uh, some things came to my attention that m-made me think we wouldn’t work very well together.” Flug worded his phrasing carefully. “He is a respected psychiatrist and a fine member of this institute, but he – we all have our strengths and weaknesses and some, clash more than others. And the patient himself doesn’t seem very fond of the doctor. He refused to answer his questions and only addressed me. He ignored Bautista completely.”

“Have you considered the idea that Black Hat is doing this in order to separate you both? To turn you against each other and make one of you vulnerable to assault?”

“Oh I considered that, yes, but ah,” he grimaced, thinking back on his inmate’s words during their first therapy session. “I believe it’s highly unlikely. And we don’t, we j-just don’t work well together, I think. So. I’d like to formally request to be stated as the only psychiatrist on this case. For now. Um, until – if something happens. Which it won’t so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Dr. Slys, you don’t have to assure me of your prowess. I’m well aware of that fact.” An honest smile came his way. “I trust my employees, and I know they make the decisions they believe to be the best. I’ll abide by your request.”

The psychiatrist’s goggles lightened, but his director held up one hand.

“However, I also expect the employees to learn to work with each other regardless of differences in personality or background. I won’t force the two of you to work together regularly, but I do expect you to resolve any conflicts you may have within a reasonable amount of time. If there are any more concerns from either of you, I want to hear about them, but I also want you both to try to come to an agreement, or at least a compromise. Is that fair?”

“Of c-course, it’s more than I could ask for.”

“Good, now about Martin Naaji. The problem here seems to be that he hasn’t been receiving proper direction in his work here. Am I correct?”

“Yes, Dr. Bautista – I mean, both he and Martin have told me that they’re unsure about what he should be doing every day. I’m not, it’s not really my business but I promised that I’d ask you about it and get back to them about it.”

“In the message Dr. Bautista sent me, he suggested that the intern be transferred to your guidance.”

“I – me?!”

“That’s correct. Have you ever overseen an intern before? Have any experience?”

“No! No, I don’t at all.” Flug gestured a little desperately. “I don’t have any plans to take on an assistant or an intern, or anything like that. I don’t have the time, I can’t – and all of my patients right now are extremely distrustful or cautious of the unknown, I can’t just pop up with another person for them to get used to after all this!”

“So you wouldn’t be willing to take him on?”

“No I, don’t get me wrong, he’s a sweet kid, a wonderful student but. I don’t know how to help him. That’s why I wanted your input, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Doctor, the best answer to that question is your honest one. I’ll work more with Dr. Bautista about it. In the meantime though,” she considered him, “didn’t you bring him along to one of your sessions with Patient 243? Dementia?”

“Oh yeah, I did do that. It went remarkably well. Why?”

“Would you be willing to let him do it again while we figure this all out?”

“I mean, that is – I think it’d be up to my patient. I wouldn’t mind it myself. But I need to ask Dementia before I could give you a real answer.”

“That’s fine. Do you have time after this to discuss it with her? I think it would be beneficial to both the patient and the intern if he joins you.”

“I can do that, yeah. I’ll ask her today.”

“Thank you. Let me know as soon as you can.”

“Absolutely, will do.” He picked at his shirt just briefly before making eye contact. “Um. Can we d-discuss 505’s situation now? I’m really worried about him.”

“Mm…” She glanced at her computer, pulling up a specific email up on her tab. “I have on record that 505’s physician sent me a message yesterday. He mentioned that you refused to allow the patient’s transfer to Floor 5 for observation and recuperation. May I ask why?”

The psychiatrist clenched at his lab coat. “Because he’s in risk of a b-breakdown up there! It’s completely detrimental to his health, and as his psychiatrist I can’t let it happen.”

“I see,” Dr. Rorschach brushed a stray strand of red hair behind her ear. “I’m assuming you’re referring to the…unstable nature of some of the other patients on that floor? Particularly the one who’s been causing the disturbance between you and Dr. Bautista?”

“Absolutely!” Flug bit back the urge to bring his finger up in triumph. “505 might be super strong but he’s never been a danger to anyone. We both know that, everyone knows that. I need to keep him safe and he won’t be safe, especially with – if he’s that close to Black Hat.”

“I see your point, and it’s a valid one. Unfortunately, we also know that 505 is unaware of how much damage he can and does cause. He’s gentle with his handlers, but we’ve kept records of the extensive property damage.” She read off her screen. “He’s destroyed numerous toys meant for stress relief and mind stimulation, broke four of your clipboards, and if I’m not mistaken, he made a six-centimeter dent in his cell during his first week here that we still haven’t fixed yet.”

“That’s true, but –”

“We also have no guarantee that his physical well-being is completely stable. His body may have healed but that could revert itself or produce unknown side effects that we haven’t seen yet from the aftermath of the…event. The bomb.”

“I know, but I don’t think –”

“Doctor, I know how much you care for your patients. It’s a joy to have such a compassionate individual working here, believe me. But I can’t risk any danger to an inmate’s health while under this roof. I can’t risk his life.”

“At the cost of his mental health? His chance to recover his mind, live a normal life?” Flug trembled openly. He wanted to stand, accusing, but ground himself into his chair instead. “This could be irreversible, Dr. Rorschach. You know that!”

“I do know that! Trust me, I do,” she snapped, her sharp painted nails pressing against the computer mouse. “We pride ourselves on our ability for our successful rehabilitation of criminals. But we are also so famous for the physical care we provide. 505’s situation is unprecedented. I’ve never seen anything like it in all my years as director. We don’t know what could happen – I don’t know what could happen, and that scares me.”

The psychiatrist tugged at his bag, noticing in his distress how much of it was mirrored in her body language.

“Dr. Rorschach, please. I’m begging you not to go through with this. I don’t want him to get hurt, but I really don’t want him regressing either. I’ll pay for cameras to be installed, I’ll check in more frequently, I’ll even camp out in his room if that’s what it takes! Just please don’t stick him on Floor 5. Please.”

They looked at each other for a long time in a battle of silence, wills, and the urge to understand. Dr. Rorschach cracked first and looked away with a weary sigh.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Slys. But we need to keep monitoring him and we can’t do it from his current room. I can’t keep him in medical either, they’ll need that room for others. I’ll have 505 placed in the cell across the hall and diagonal from Black Hat. It’s farthest away and it’s the best I can do. I won’t risk liability here, no matter what. You’re welcome to visit him as often as you think is necessary and I’ll increase your spending budget for his material items and toys, but that’s it.”

It was the firmness in those words, the finality of a no-nonsense director who wouldn’t take any answer but agreement that kept Flug’s mouth tensed shut. He bowed his head in stony, expected respect and stood up, straightening his lab coat meticulously.

“When can I expect you to move 505.”

“Most likely later this evening, when he’s been officially checked out of his medical room. I’ll let you know, if you’d like to be there.”

“Sure. Yeah. I’ll move his stuff to that c – to his new room then. If there’s nothing else to say, I’ll take my leave to start doing that.”

“There’s nothing else, no.” Dr. Rorschach usually shook hands with her employees before they left. She didn’t offer it now. “I am truly sorry, Dr. Slys, for what it’s worth. We just don’t have a better option.”

He didn’t respond, just clenched his fingers in his coat and gave a curt nod, turning and trudging to the door in soft, measured steps. There was no glance backwards as he left her office, and the door closed slowly and firmly. Flug refused to give himself a chance to dwell on the situation. He broke out into a steady jog, forgoing the elevator completely and trekking up two flights of stairs into Floor 3 and practically ran to 505’s colorful room.

It was far too empty without the bear’s wonderful presence, and the psychiatrist grabbed the closest thing to his left – a giant stuffed whale – and tucked it under his armpit. He filled his arms with as many toys as he could carry, balancing a green rubber ball precariously on top of a rainbow plastic slinky as he made his way to Floor 5.

Many of the patients were fairly quiet in the morning hours, and today was no exception. He passed Dementia’s room without her notice but stopped when he came close to the four armored cells in the back. One of Black Hat’s guards – Lucas – saw what he was holding and came over curiously.

“Dr. Slys? What’s all this?”

“We’re just, um, one of my patients is being transferred here.” Flug wilted, letting the severity of the issue come to his mind at last. “He’ll be here sometime this afternoon and I w-wanted to move his things here, make sure he’ll be c-comfortable.”

The ball tipped over and Lucas lunged for it, catching the toy before it hit the ground. He rolled it back and forth between his hands as the psychiatrist gave him a grateful look.

“Do you need any help? You look like your hands are pretty full.”

“Mm, I don’t – that’d be nice but d-don’t you need to,” he glanced at the disturbingly quiet cell of his trouble inmate. “Um, guard him?”

“Ah, well, Ben had to go take care of something but he’s bound to be back any minute – speak of the devil!” Lucas was suddenly grinning, looking past the doctor.

Flug turned around to see Black Hat’s other security officer walking briskly toward them. He blinked at the psychiatrist only briefly before his gaze moved to his partner.

“Man, sorry I’m late. All the stalls were full and the line was longer than I thought. What’s going on?”

“I was gonna help Dr. Slys move some stuff for his patient. Apparently someone else is coming over here now.” Lucas jerked a thumb at the cells behind them. “You mind if I do that for a bit? We’ll be back and forth.”

“Oh, that’s really not necessary –” Flug started to say.

“Nah, sure, go ahead. I’ll be right here if you need me,” Ben beamed at them both and took his position in front of Black Hat’s door. “Just let me know if you need help with heavy lifting. I’m much more muscular than this guy.”

“Hey! Don’t start with me,” Lucas growled in mock indignation. He looked towards Flug, who stood there a little lost. “So which room we taking this into?”

“Oh, ah, this one back here.” Passing Black Hat’s room made his skin prickle, but no terrifying face appeared at the window to verbally assault him. The psychiatrist and the guard placed the toys in various spots in the large padded room, and Flug found the silver lining in that 505 might enjoy such comfy walls and flooring compared to his other room.

Lucas helped him make three more trips between Floor 3 and Floor 5, making small talk and gushing about his son, who had just turned five last month apparently. The psychiatrist listened politely, not very interested but knowing how to appear so, and when the last of the bear’s stuff was moved – an easel for finger painting set along the far wall – he sighed in bitter relief and locked the door.

“Thank you, really. I d-don’t know how long this would have taken without your help.”

“No problem, Doctor. It gets super boring standing here all day anyway. And you’ve been really respectful to us, it was the least I could do.”

“You don’t…get treated well? From the other employees?”

“Oh no, don’t get us wrong,” Ben jumped in. “I love working here personally, but when something goes wrong, it’s always ‘let’s blame security’ for everything. Gets frustrating sometimes, y’know?”

“Unfortunately, I really do.” Flug had a flicker of memory and pushed it down far away. “But I d-do want to thank you again. For this and for – for saving my life back then. For looking out for me. I don’t know how to, to make it up to you.”

“Eh,” Lucas waved a hand. “You’ve been a pretty good source of entertainment, no offense. You and your inmate both. I’ve never seen anything like it, to be honest.”

“Neither have I,” he mumbled to himself. And I don’t know what to think about that.

At that moment of course, Black Hat deigned the situation important enough to make an appearance. When the psychiatrist risked a glance through the barred window, he saw a single glittering eye in the dark from across the room. He had only a moment to wonder why the lights never seemed to be working back here before his patient glided silently to the door with feigned disinterest.

“Am I to understand you’ve been discussing me without my presence? How rude.” The inmate let the brim of his top hat touch the bars without creasing it. “And to peer into the privacy of my room too, no respect these days.”

“Nnn,” Flug kept the reflexive apology from leaving his tongue and crossed his arms instead. The guards on either side of him shifted to be more prepared, but didn’t seem very alarmed by the criminal’s presence.

“Something on your mind, Doctor?”

“I, yes actually. I wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh?” There was the lifting of an eyebrow. “And what might that be? Perhaps to continue our conversation from the therapy session two days ago? I really did want to discuss with you about what I found, that –”

“It’s not that, a-actually.” The psychiatrist stiffened at the look Black Hat gave him as he cut him off, but ploughed through anyway. “We have another patient coming to stay in one of these rooms back here, and I d-don’t want you harassing him.”

“Why would I do something like that, Dr. Flug?”

“Because you’re a criminal, and you haven’t had any problems harassing me or Inspector Daniels, or, anyone really. This patient isn’t someone who can be set off, we don’t want him hurting himself or others and I know you’d – ”

“You don’t know much about me at all, Flug.” Black Hat looked nonchalantly threatening at the three of them. “I have no interest in pursuing actions against an invalid, unless he gives me explicit reason to. Harassing creatures so pathetic holds no value nor satisfaction for me. It’s a waste of time.”

“Then why go after me? Is it j-just because I’m your psychiatrist?”

“If that was the case, Dr. Flug, then I would have lost interest in you quite some time ago. You would not have survived the week.”

Two things wormed their way up Flug’s neck in that declaration. The first was sick, animal fear because Black Hat was not exaggerating or bluffing. He fully believed his patient in this. The second was something he couldn’t yet identify, but there was no small amount of it and he set it aside to analyze later.

“Okay, w-well, as long as I have y-your word that you’ll leave this patient alone.”

“I’m a criminal, Doctor. You said so yourself. What weight could my word possibly have? I’m just as likely to break it as I give it.”

“No,” he responded softly, honestly. “Something tells me that you wouldn’t. You’re a man – person – of your word. I don’t have any evidence for that guess, but I don’t think I need any. Am I right?”

Black Hat’s face split into a grin, born from surprise and delight. He looked very pleased by his psychiatrist’s deduction.

“You’re correct, Flug. I abide by my word. And I will not come after your precious patient unless he gives me reason to. Fair enough?”

“Yes–! I mean yes. That’s very fair. Thank you.” And he offered an appreciative smile of his own, honest and thankful and the first he’d ever given this inmate. It threw the criminal off, who drew back from the window with a quiet utterance of ‘it’s my pleasure’ and disappeared into the darkness again.

Flug let the smile drop into vague relief and gave his heartfelt goodbyes to Ben and Lucas, waving as they saluted him off. On the way back down the hall, he stopped momentarily at Dementia’s room. She was sprawled facedown across her bed, her hair spread over most of her body.

“Dementia, are you there?” He peered anxiously at the mass of red hair and white straightjacket lying motionless on the mattress.

The lump moved sideways and Dementia’s face appeared behind her hair curtain, blinking groggily at her psychiatrist. “Flug? Izzat you?”

“Ah, yeah, sorry to wake you. I just had a few quick questions, do you mind?”

“Nah, mm, jus’ gimme a minute.” The girl arched her back, catlike in her stretching. She groaned as her spine popped. “So, qué pasa? Need me to take someone out for you?”

“No thanks, we’ve already decided you’re not doing that. I wanted to know what you thought of Martin, from a few days ago?”

“Martin Maje? Sure, he’s a dumb butt. Why?”

“Would you be willing to let him continue joining us for our therapy sessions together? At least temporarily?”

“Uh…” She closed one eye, thinking about it. “I dunno. I guess he’s okay enough for that. This is kinda out of nowhere though, what’s this about?”

“My boss wants him to shadow my work for a while. Or shadow me working with you for a while. It’s not really something I asked for. I told her I needed to talk to you first.”

“Okay. Aren’t you coming in tomorrow? For my freedom free time?”

“That’s not what it’s called.”

“Well it’s what I call it so that’s too bad for you,” Dementia flopped down into her mattress, voice muffled. “He can come for that, I guess. I don’t really care. Just don’t let him touch me. And you better have something fun for me to do while my hands are free, or I’ll scratch him, bite his neck. Haven’t had fresh blood in a while.”

“You’re not a vampire, Dementia. You don’t need fresh blood.”

“Just you wait, Flug. Someday one will come swooping in and transform me, like a bat in shining armor. And then you’ll wish you listened to me, cause I’m not letting you have immortality now even if you begged me for it… Would you beg me for it?”

“No, Dementia.”

“Not even just a little bit?”

“Goodbye, Dementia.”

“Okay fine! I won’t share it with you! I’ll laugh when you get all old and wrinkly and your bag will get wrinkly too and I’ll laugh at you. It’s what you get for waking me up anyway.”

She turned her face away, and Flug might have thought she was upset at him except that she was peeking mischievously with one eye, the corner of a dimpled smile visible from the bed. He shook his head good-naturedly and walked away toward the stairwell.

As the psychiatrist made his way down each flight of stairs, he considered again the feelings that had come out of Black Hat’s not so subtle threat. The one he had been unable to identify, which nearly overcame the familiar fear, was a positive emotion. His shock at the realization made him pause halfway down one step.

It had been glee. An uncommon, traitorous little thing that he hadn’t felt in relation to himself for a very long time. It bubbled up in him now, against his will, and Flug took it reluctantly. He had been complimented before, had felt satisfaction from admiring words before, but it was different here. It wasn’t just because it was from an inmate either – he’d had plenty of those as well.

No, Black Hat acknowledged him for reasons he couldn’t fathom, out of respect or some other thing, and it made him gleeful. Made him happy.

He decided he’d let it be a good thing. For now.

#villainous #villainous au #asylum au #dr flug #black hat #demencia #505 #paperhat

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