#just kinda. did a big neon splat

[veveisveryuncool]

yo yo yo happy birthday @jojo-schmo!!

[theartisticintrovert]

Case #0130403

Statement of Jason Gale, regarding the strange occurrences surrounding Daniel Fenton. Original statement given 3rd April, 2013. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement begins.

--

I wanna start this by saying that I barely knew Danny. I don’t know how he became what he is, but what I did see, well...I still have nightmares. I guess I should start at the beginning, though I’m not really sure how much of a beginning there is.

I never had the greatest home life. Pretty textbook, really. Shitty dad, dead mom, bad friends, the works. I ran away when I was fourteen, fell in with a real bad crowd. I’d been in and out of juvie every few months, but I didn’t meet Danny until I was sixteen. I’d been picked up at the scene of a robbery, don’t even remember where, and sent off to Amity Youth Detention Center. I’d been there for about three months when my old cellmate got released, so I was on my own for a bit. I didn’t mind, D Block wasn’t exactly the worst it could get.

Danny transferred in a few weeks later. At first, I didn’t think much of him. He was tiny, barely 5’4 I think, and he looked like a twig. His eyes, though.....his eyes were what scared me the most. They looked dead, like someone sucked all the life outta him, just leaving his corpse walkin’ around like some kinda zombie. They sent him in and he just.....stared, watching Officer McCarthy leave like he was already planning the poor bastard’s funeral. I freaked out a little. I’m not ashamed, kid was fuckin’ scary.

That’s when it happened. It’s like something snapped in him. The room got all cold, and the lights started flickering. He shoved me up against the wall and I dunno how but it felt like this.....predator staring at me. I don’t even remember what he said, but I just agreed to whatever it was so he’d stop staring at me. I swear his eyes were green, but it had to just be a trick of the light. It had to be, because I remember they were blue. I remember, because I remember thinking how weird it was for an Asian kid to have blue eyes.

Still, when he got mad......I swear to you, they were green.

Sorry, I got a little.....off track there. There were a few more weird things about him, but just little things. He never ate, and I know it wasn’t that he was eating when I couldn’t see him. AYDC has scheduled meal times for every block, and every single time it was D’s turn he just....stayed in bed. There’s no getting in or out once the door’s locked, so he wasn’t sneaking around. And yet, even after about a week and a half of this, he was fine. No complaining, no hunger pains, not even a little bit of nausea. Like.....like he didn’t need food. I asked him about it, but the answer, well.....I think he was a bit nutty. Everyone was in there. 

I managed to get him into the cafeteria one time, though not for very long. I think Emily, that is, Emily Grey, scared him off, but I can’t be sure. I do remember though, that the others felt it too. Danny was.....he had this like, aura of despair. Like you get near him, and nothing you do will make you feel again. Owen Coulter said he “felt like depression, if depression was a person”. I only remember that because it was so strange to hear a twelve year old say that with the knowledge that only an old man has, but there it was anyway.

He got transferred a few days later, or....I assume he was transferred, anyway. I heard he’d finally gotten his trial, but he didn’t come back after. I can only assume they sent him to F, because I didn’t see him for several months after that. I’d honestly just been starting to feel okay again when he came back to D. I only really noticed him because we were in the yard at the same time, and something in me wanted to turn around and bolt the second I spotted him. Still, he seemed.....different. Less angry, less......snappish. I noticed a few new scars on him too, which was strange just because the inmates at AYDC aren’t allowed any electronics, so how the hell did he get electrocution scars?

The next big one happened after he was released. He’d been out for about a week when I got a visitor. This was news to me, since my old man doesn’t give a rat’s ass about me and my friends wouldn’t be caught dead in a juvie visitation room. Only visitors I really got were my lawyer and sometimes my stepmom, but she didn’t come often. She doesn’t like me much, but that’s beside the point. When I saw Danny on the other side of that glass window, I about turned around right there. Unfortunately for me, the door was already shut and I couldn’t get anyone to open it, not from my side. Fuckin’ bastards probably stepped out for a donut break, who knows. The point is, Danny was....different. 

His scars curled up both of his cheeks now, pale and prominent against his sickly brown skin. His eyes seemed a little sharper now, a little more aware. I wasn’t entirely sure this was a good thing. We argued a bit, but....I think he was genuinely trying to help. I didn’t trust him a damn bit, but at least he was trying.

I’ve been dancing around the point long enough, I think. Sure, the kid’s weird, you’re thinking. He’s got scars, so what? He makes you miserable just being around him? Probably some emo bastard. The whole predator gaze? Well, he was in for assault. No, the thing I’ve been avoiding, the thing that I’ll never forget....it was his ghost.

Way back when we were still bunkmates, he’d told me about how he died. How his parents were some kind of Ghostbuster freaks, and they built a portal to Hell in his basement. Okay, well, he called it the “Ghost Zone”, but who gives a fuck, honestly. Then he told me he was stupid enough to go in the damn thing, and got zapped six ways to Sunday. He said he’d died in that portal, and I didn’t want to believe him. I couldn’t. When you die, you die. That’s it. Game over. Do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars. The idea that he could be some sort of.....half-alive, half-dead.....thing, well....I didn’t want to think about it. I’d already come to terms with my own mortality, and I did not need it shoved back in my face by some freaky-ass kid.

But then he showed me. God, it was horrible. I was expecting him to fail, just the delusions of his poor fucked up scrambled brains, some side effect of getting zapped to hell and back. Maybe, if it were true, to just go a bit translucent. I didn’t expect the monster.

It came in a flash of light. Two sparking rings of bright white electricity, so bright they burned to look at. When I managed to blink the spots outta my eyes, I almost thought I’d hit my head. Where Danny had been standing, a floating, glowing thing stood in his place. It was pale, washed out, with only its acid green eyes and tongue giving it any color at all. It wore a jumpsuit of some sort, with thick gloves and attached boots, like the biohazard guys on TV. It still had the scars though, even if they were glowing an ominous neon green. It hissed at me, like it was trying to speak, but I didn’t understand a word it said. When it turned that empty, hungry gaze on me, I panicked. I shoved it back against the wall, where it connected with a sickening splat. Blood oozed on the concrete, or at least, I assume it was blood. It was red and green and sizzled, like it was eating away at the stone. I think there’s still marks there, where the acid ate away at the concrete.

The thing wanted to eat me, I’m sure of it, but it seemed too dizzy. I think shoving it only made it more angry, but at that point the light came back. I looked away just in time, and when the light died down Danny was back. Still scrawny, still fleshy, still alive. Only now, I wasn’t so sure.

I haven’t seen another ghost since, and I think it’s for the best. I’ve done my research, I’ve heard about these....mediums. I know I can’t see them, not on this plane. Honestly, I’m better off for it I think. I don’t want to see them, or hear them, or even think about them again. 

I didn’t give you this statement to have you do something about it. I don’t even know if you have the ability to do anything, since all this happened in Illinois. I didn’t come all the way to some dingy spooky library in fucking London for a solution. I’ve made my peace. I just.....I needed to tell somebody. Not the cops, I don’t trust them as far as I could throw them. And not anyone else either, they’d think I’m a schizo freak, like that Weston kid. No, I’m perfectly happy laying low, and never thinking about Daniel Fenton again. And now that I have this off my chest and stored away in your freaky little library, I finally can.

--

Statement ends. Although he said he didn’t want us to do anything about his experience, we did reach out to Mr. Gale. He replied in no uncertain terms for us to leave him alone, and that he absolutely would not be giving a follow-up statement. I....can’t say I blame him, but really, half-dead? A teenager that could turn into some paranormal entity? It all seems rather....far fetched. 

Still, we did do some basic follow-up research on what we could. The Fentons do exist, as well as the town of Amity Park. I’d like to take everything about said town with a hefty dose of salt however, as it claims to be “The Most Haunted Place in America”. Tourist trap nonsense, if you ask me. Daniel Fenton was arrested in late summer of 2010, though those records are obviously sealed. Emily Grey declined to give a follow-up statement as well, and Owen Coulter seems to have unfortunately passed away in the intervening years. 

Still, I can’t help but think that Mr. Gale’s statement is....unusually detailed, especially as it concerns a boy he himself claims to have no close connection to.

End recording.

[not-close-to-straight]

“It’s Five O Clock Somewhere” (WinterHawk)

Clint and Bucky bonding over too much alcohol and THIS iconic song.

PLAYLIST MASTERLIST HERE

*****************

Bucky hated being benched, hated being put on the sidelines, hated being sat at home in the compound while Steve took the rest of the team out to save the world. 

He understood why people didn’t want to see the Winter Soldier running around out in the world again. He understood why his activities were heavily monitored, why he was only allowed to help on missions that were nothing more than good PR opportunities. 

Steve had been quick to forgive the Soldier’s past, the team had come along shortly and Tony-- somehow even Tony treated Bucky as if nothing was wrong between them. Here within the compound, Bucky was just another face on the team, just another good guy. 

The world had an entirely different view though, and that’s why today just like so many other days, Bucky was confined to the compound while the others went off to be heroes. 

It was fine. Bucky wasn’t bitter at all. Not. At. All. 

It wasn’t like he was lonely, or like the quiet made him feel as if he were going insane. It wasn’t like he couldn’t sleep when there was no one else there, not like he tried to sleep and woke up in panics because what if he was still in cryo freeze--

Any way. It was fine. It was all fine. Bucky would go downstairs and make himself a sandwich and maybe watch one of those old spy films Natasha was always watching and try to catch a very quick, nightmare free nap. 

“The sun is hotttt and that old clockkkk is moving slow! And so am I!” 

Bucky stopped in his tracks and tilted his head, because he couldn’t possbly be hearing what sounded like a very drunk Clint Barton singing a terribly off tune twang about-- 

“Work day passes li-ike molasses in winner-time! But darlin’ it’s July! Gettin’ paid by the hour, and older by the--” 

“Barton.” 

“--minute--OHMYGOD!” Clint shrieked and froze mid step, mouth agape, eyes wide, holding a giant sandwich in one hand and a very very fruity looking blended drink in the other. “Oh my god. Frosty, my man you scared the shit outta me. What are you doing?” 

“No no.” Bucky shook his head and squinted at the drink, at the triple-quadruple-quintuple layered sandwich, at the way Clint had gotten all six foot three of himself into ratty purple sweatpants and crop top that definitely belonged to Natasha. “What are you doing?” 

“Hanging out.” Clint said, as if that explained anything at all. “What does it look like?” 

“It looks like you’re gettin’ drunk at half past twelve in the afternoon.” Bucky pointed out. “Caterwaulin’ to some awful song, wearing stolen clothes and about to eat enough food to put you into a coma.”

“Is it only half past twelve?” Clint looked faintly surprised, then shrugged it off. “Welp. I’ve been drinking since like ten, and it’s gotta be five o clock somewhere and we’re both benched from the mission. Wanna get drunk with me?” 

“Super soldier.” Bucky said, more than a hint regretfully. He and Clint weren’t exactly friends, but the archer was hilarious and easy going and well-- well Bucky had a type, and Clint was tall, blonde and had muscles for days, which pretty much checked every box Bucky had. 

Plus, Clint had never once looked at Bucky weird or all the brain washing, he never flinched when Bucky wanted to spar, and even though his litany of nicknames for Bucky ranged from ‘Frosty’ to ‘Ye Olde Sourpuss’, they were never said with anything other than easy affection and accompanied by a flirty sort of wink. Besides, sometimes Clint talked bull shit about the other Avengers via sign language, and while Bucky’s sign language was rusty at best, it made him feel a little more connected to talk like that anyway. 

“Super soldier.” Bucky repeated, feeling regretful all over again when Clint just looked at him. “Can’t get drunk.” 

“Oh, but I can fix that.” Clint’s grin stretched towards goofy and Bucky blinked at the sheer sunniness of it, wondering if he would ever get used to how much he liked Clint’s smile. “Okay so you can’t ever tell anyone? But I guarantee I got something that will get even your delightfully frostbitten ass drunk as a skunk in May.” 

“You’re drunk enough for the both of us.” Bucky decided and Clint’s grin got a little bit bigger. “Besides, me and Stevie-- we’ve emptied Tony’s whole cupboard trying to get drunk. Doesn’t work.” 

“Come on, I’ll show you.” Clint set his precariously tall sandwich down, and chugged back most of the neon colored blended drink. Then he grabbed at Bucky’s hand-- Bucky’s left hand-- and took off down the corridor, dragging Bucky behind him. 

“Clint-- Clint wait--” Bucky found himself laughing without even meaning to, holding onto Clint’s hand and following the archer’s rather clumsy run down towards the bottom floor where Bruce had his lab and his Hulk-out room. “Just wait, what are we doing?” 

“Okay come here.” Clint’s eyes were sparkling bright blue, brilliant and clear and when he stumbled to a stop and Bucky nearly ran into him, they ended up nose to nose, chest to chest, and even though Clint was only an inch or so taller than Bucky, the height difference seemed alot more extreme when they were so close. 

“Wow.” Clint wet his lips and looked Bucky over with a smile that was practically lecherous. “We should get up close and personal a lot more.” 

“You’re drunk.” Bucky said flatly, ignoring the thrill that went through him at Clint’s words, and Clint just nodded in agreement. 

“Totally sloshed, Buck. Totally sloshed. But come and look.” he dragged Bucky over to Bruce’s desk and undid the bottom drawer. “So a few months ago, I triple dog dared Bruce to get the Hulk drunk because Big and Green is kinda like you and Stars and Gripes and he can’t get drunk, right? So Bruce did all this research and experimenting and came up with this!” 

Clint retrieved a flask and held it up triumphantly, and Bucky eyed it skeptically. “What is it?” 

“Moonshine!” Clint crowed. “Just about the purest shit you’ll find outside of Kentucky, you feel me? If this don’t put the whoo hoo in your hootenanny, then you’re just outta luck.” 

“Put the whoo hoo in my what?” Bucky laughed again and Clint whistled, “Boy howdy Buck, you are mega hot when you laugh. Let’s do more of that right now. This put Bruce in a coma for like three days. Here, bottoms up.”  

“Um--” Bucky looked between the flask and Clint’s eager smile, thought about all the lonely afternoons he’d spent in the compound and how much more fun it would be spend this afternoon with Clint, tried to remember the last time he was drunk and wondered what Clint would taste like with moonshine on his lips....

“Bottoms up.” 

*************

*************

“Why are you--” Bucky blinked up at the ceiling, almost a hundred percent sure that it had not been moving in circles earlier that morning. “Why are you wearing Natasha’s crop top?” 

“Because my abs are a national treasure and it’s a damn shame to keep them covered up.” Clint said slurred, laying flat on his back on the living room floor. “I mean, have you seen my abs? They’re not All American cheese graters like your boyfriend is packing, but I’d consider them wash board status.” 

“Wash board.” Bucky’s smile was far too wide and he didn’t even care. “Yeah, you are pretty gorgeous.” 

“I know, right?” Clint had pulled a silly straw from.. from somewhere, and it twisted and turned and looped up and around so he could manage to still drink the alarmingly purple liquid on his drink without actually sitting up. “I am gorgeous. People are always like ‘oh no, Clint’s got a bandage on his nose again’ and ‘oh no, Clint got hurt again’ but you know what? Not everyone looks sexy rocking bandaids and bruises, okay? I own my disasterness.” 

“S’that why you’re home?” Bucky rolled off the couch and splatted onto the carpet next to Clint, the empty flask of moonshine clattering to the floor as well. “You got banged up last time?” 

“Concussion.” Clint confirmed, slurping through that ridiculous straw. “Bruce said I should sit this one out. Didn’t know you were home too though or I would’a worn something less revealing. At least would’a worn underwear. You know, for modesty’s sake and all that.

“You have no modesty.” 

“I have exactly no modesty!” 

It wasn’t funny, not in the least, but both Clint and Bucky cracked up, holding at their sides and guffawing at the idea of Clint having any sense of modesty at all. 

“Oh man, I know what we should do.” Clint bolted upright to sitting, then put his hand to his head and collapsed backwards into a heap, cracking his head on the floor and groaning, “Ow pain, that didn’t help my concussion.” If Bucky would have been sober, he would have been embarrassed at the way he snort-laughed, but as it was, the snort just set Clint off into another round of giggles and it was several minutes before they managed to pull themselves together again. 

“Okay okay okay. I was gonna say.” Clint sat up slower this time, rotating to look down at Bucky. “We should play truth or dare. That’s what pretty people do when they drink. Truth or dare. You know how to play that, or was it before your time?” 

“Shut the fuck up and play.” Bucky shoved at Clint’s chest, or at least he meant to shove. It turned into more of a caress type situation, and Clint’s eyes got comically wide when Bucky’s fingers lingered at the skin showing beneath his crop top. 

“It’s fuckin’ embarrasing that I’m about to pop an awkward boner cos you touched my tummy.” he announced and when Bucky’s eyes automatically helplessly fell to Clint’s lap, the archer yelped, “Don’t look at it! You’ll scare it away! He’s shy!” 

Bucky’s mouth fell open and Clint gathered enough of his wits to say, “Uh, my dick is not shy. That’s not where that sentence was intended to go. He’s not-- he’s not a shy boy. Not at all.” and Bucky fell apart laughing as Clint turned an entirely unhealthy shade of red. 

“Truth or dare!” Bucky finally gasped out, struggling to sit up as well and feeling around for the flask, hoping for another quick drink. “Go on then, play the game!” 

“Alright, ask me a truth.” Clint offered Bucky the rest of his neon drink and Bucky shook his head firmly. 

“M’not drinkin’ that toxic shit. Alright truth. You really as clumsy as you look or do you play it up so people don’t know you’re smart?” 

“I walked into a door yesterday cos Thor swaggered by in his underwear and I almost died.” Clint confirmed, raising his voice to be heard over Bucky’s snickering. “IN MY DEFENSE, have you seen that guy? I would pay him to smother me in those thighs.” 

“Oh fuck me, that’s too much truth.” Bucky took a hesitant, tiny sip of Clint’s drink and instantly pulled a face. “My turn.” 

“Truth or dare, Mr. Freeze?” Clint staggered to his feet and wandered over to the bar to get Bucky a beer. “What’ll it be?” 

“Truth.” Bucky said easily, partly cos he was too damn drunk to attempt a dare, partly because for the first time in for ever he felt like maybe opening up a tiny bit. “Let’s hear it.” 

“Yeah alright.” Clint made it back and passed the beer over. “Are you and Steve dating, fucking, have dated or fucked, or in any way have any association with each other’s dicks at all?” 

Bucky stared at him for a full minute and Clint waggled his eyebrows. “C’mon Buck, you knew I was gonna ask. Everyone thinks you two are doin’ the knick knack paddy whack so here’s your chance to lay it all out on the---glmpgh!?!”

The noise Clint made when Bucky jolted forward and mashed their mouths together was decidedly un sexy and fairly hilarious, but initial weirdness aside, he threw himself whole heartedly into the unexpected kiss. 

Bucky oophed when Clint shoved him down to the ground, but then he groaned when the big blond stretched out on top of him, and both of them made some sort of noise when the next kiss involved a whole lotta tongue and more than a hint of teeth. 

Clint’s hands were everywhere, callouses lighting up Bucky’s skin as he tried to get underneath Bucky’s shirt, one of his long legs wedged firmly between Bucky’s thighs and when Bucky lifted his hip and rubbed against him, Clint cheered, “Hey look, he’s not shy anymore!” and Bucky nearly ruined the moment by dying of laughter. 

“I’m way too drunk for this.” Clint complained as their kisses got messy and hands got sloppy. “Been wanting this for fuckin’ ever--” 

“Really?” Bucky asked in surprise. “Me?” 

“Have you seen you?” Clint retorted. “But I’m too damn drunk to enjoy it and you outta your mind on moonshine doesn’t feel like real agreement and--” 

“Shut up.” Bucky grumbled and shoved his hand down the back of those ugly sweatpants to get a big handful of booty. “M’not too drunk to not know what m’doin!” 

“Okay okay okay--” Clint tore their mouths apart and all but attacked Bucky’s neck, leaving harsh kisses and bruising bites down the clear skin and working his tongue over the scars where metal met flesh and when he moaned, “Fuck, baby, you’re so gorgeous do you know that?”--

--Bucky went still for a few seconds, wrapped his arms tight around Clint and just held him, rocked by a wave of emotion and vulnerability and god damn it maybe he was too drunk if being called gorgeous made him want to cry--

“Clint?” he asked, and when there was no answer, when it suddenly registered that Clint felt heavier than usual against him, Bucky leaned away to peer down at the blond. “Clint are you--” 

“--Jesus fuck, you’re passed the hell out.” he said in exasperation, and Clint-- who was very much passed the hell out because he’d been drinking for the last six hours and was only human, after all-- just snored away peacefully. 

“Oh my god.” Bucky rolled to the side so he wouldn’t squash Clint flat. “Okay well you know what, maybe I’ll just close my eyes for a minute too. Been a while since I’ve been drunk, forgot that it could make you so tired....” 

**************

**************

“Okay but like--” Sam gestured helplessly to the living room, to the sight of Clint passed out in ratty clothes with the remnants of several fruity drinks and what looked like a silly straw surround him, and then to Bucky, who was open mouthed snoring, hair a wreck, an empty flask near his hand. “--What in the fuck happened here?” 

“I dunno, but it’s a pretty good bet that Cap disapproves.” Tony swatted Steve on the rear and grinned. “Don’t look so upset, babe. What did you expect Clint and Bucky to do if we left them here alone?” 

“I didn’t expect to come back and find them passed out drunk at four thirty in the afternoon.” Steve said flatly. “It’s not even five o clock. I thought people weren’t supposed to drink until five o clock? How are they already this drunk?” 

“Oh come on, you know the song.” Tony shoved his boyfriend towards the elevator so they could get undressed from the fight. “It’s always five o clock in Margaritaville.” 

“I do not know that song.” Steve insisted, his voice fading away as Tony herded him down the hall. “I do not know that song! It’s not five o clock, it’s four thirty! Clint is a terrible influence on Bucky!” 

“Who do you think started drinking?” Sam asked Natasha. “Clint or Bucky?” 

“It was definitely Clint.” She decided. “Probably drinking those weird fruity mixed drinks he pretends are completely manly. They all have names like Juicy Lucy and Dances with Wenches or some other beachy bullshit. Honestly, I’m just impressed their clothes are still on.” 

“You and me both.” Sam tipped his head and narrowed his eyes. “Tash, is Clint wearing your crop top?” 

“You know what? I don’t want to talk about it.” 

******************

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[huffle-dork]

Enemy of my Enemy (Swap Boys AU)

(Heavily inspired by this post:

Enjoy ;3c) 

Crack! Another fist connects with the side of Chase’s cheek, sending him spiraling into the brick wall behind him. He breathes heavily, blinking back his blurry vision and trying to concentrate on the foe before him. He has just enough time to see the flash of her holographic coat and duck before her fist makes a connection with the wall behind him. The hero gives a wild war cry and dives for the villain’s knees, knocking them both to the ground. The masked woman gives a wild laugh, prying off the white mask and letting loose her messy fray of purple hair, barring a sharp tooth grin at the hero.

“Oh? Are we playing dirty today, Fantastic? Who knew a few drinks could do that to you~,” Overdose teased, tiptoeing light fingers up Bro’s arms, making him shiver. He grits his teeth together and shoved her hand off him.

“Shove off, Overdose-” Chase spat. “Just hand over all the stolen shit and we can both go home and call it a day.”

Overdose blinked big eyelashes up at Chase, her eye makeup sparkling in the streetlights.

“Why, Bro! Are you actually thinking of sparing me jail time? Who knew my charms had worked on you after all~.”

Chase rolled his eyes. “I just want to go home and sleep off this hangover- so just shut up and let’s end this.” He starts to reach into her coat, reaching for where he saw her stash her newest batch of contraband earlier. But, before he can, the hand he hadn’t pinned down is suddenly on his stomach and- a sharp pain erupts in his side as a needle is pressed into his skin. Chase jumps away, eyes widening as he quickly ducks down to check where he was just injected. God- it hurt like hell!

“What- What d’ya do to me?” He already starts to slur, looking back to Overdose as she rises to her feet. His legs and arms, he felt like he couldn’t control them. Even more so since he was kinda drunk and he nearly splat back to the ground as the world started to shift before him. Then, the world felt… separate from him. Like he was separating from it- Like the ground wasn’t really there. He was floating and he was scared he couldn’t come back down. His breathing was picking up faster and faster as sweat started to drip heavily down his face. He was gonna throw up. He couldn’t remember where he was- what he was just doing- everything was cracking and breaking.

A chuckle wormed its way into Chase’s ear. “Oh don’t be that way, super boy. I was just giving you a little gift for being so kind to me~!” Boots clunked heavily on the ground in front of him and Chase had a hard time attaching them to a body before Overdose appeared out of the dizzying void of color before him and snatched his chin, huffing a gentle cloud of white into his face with pursed lips before she smiled. “Now that’s usually given in a drink but.. I figured you already had enough tonight.”

She then roughly throws Chase’s chin back and his head cracks loudly against the concrete, stars flashing brightly before his eyes, disorienting him further. Were- were they real stars? They looked real… like they could stab him in the eyes. He whimpered and tried to shut his eyes but he could still see them and all the colors and bursting lights in his head were causing him to panic. He couldn’t understand what was happening-!

“M-make it s-stop…” He begged, curling up. Overdose giggled and planted a foot on his side. Right on his tender injection site, causing him to cry out.

“Aw, are you not having fun?” She replied with false sympathy, “Well if only someone here could help you!” She then shoved Bro over on the ground with her boot, her tone turning darker, “Wouldn’t count on it though, Fantastic. No one here to help a pathetic hero like you. Maybe next time you won’t drink and crime fight.”

The sound of the boots walking away fills Chase’s ears before a giggle breaks through.

“Oh! If there is a next time~!” Overdose’s triumphant laugh can be heard echoing among the warehouses as Chase lays on the floor, shivering and trying to make sense of his surroundings. But, he can’t tell which way is up and which is down. He can hardly feel his body anymore. It’s like he’s hardly there at all. His heart is slowing down though is breathing is panicked.

If there’s a next time Overdose said… does that mean this could kill him? Chase didn’t want to die! He couldn’t die- The city needed him. His friends needed him. His brother needed him! This thought alone was enough for him to open his eyes and try to push himself up- despite the dizzying vision and nausea stirring in his stomach. He.. he had to find someone. The hero lifts his heavy head and tries to see if he can recognize where he is…

The warehouse district- fuck! Overdose was right- where the fuck was Chase gonna find help here? The nearest hospital was on the other side of town! And nobody lived here… nobody except for-

...Magnificent.

What was Chase even thinking? How could that kitty cat bastard help him?! ...but then again… did he even have any other choice?

The hero heaved a heavy groan and tried to lift himself off the ground, despite how the effort sent his head spinning in dizzying circles. Like a toy lost in the drain- like a fish flowing, looping down an endless river, over and over. His head swam, and he tried to shake the feeling free. Oh no bad idea- that made the explosion of colors and intense nausea worse. Chase almost fell back to the ground, heaving and struggling to not spill the contents of his stomach out.

“M’kay….- take this slow Brody…”

But, not too slow. Who knows how long he had before...

Shakily, Chase flops on his stomach then gingerly pushes himself up. Carefully, he leans up and blinks the neon gunk out of his eyes, focusing on what feels like the neverending rows of warehouses ahead. He… he should be able to spot Magnificent’s right..? He’s only fought in it like what- a thousand times already?

With a dry laugh, the hero staggered to his feet. He sucked in air through his teeth as his posture tugged on his sore side. But- that was the least of his worries. Taking a few steadying breaths, Chase closed his eyes before bursting them open and taking a running start down the concrete. He kicked off and took to the air, and almost immediately regretted it as the drug made him feel like he was upside down and inside out- god he was gonna throw up.

It wasn’t a pretty sight but Bro was airborne and at least at a decent speed. And that’s what he needed. Through blurry and confusing vision, the drugged hero searched for any sign of his arch nemesis’s hideout. But- god he was starting to see things… the city skyline was shifting in and out of what it was supposed to look like. The moon was glitching- changing positions in the sky. Chase was hearing things- endless cackling and static-laced laughter that sent shivers up his spine. The sky was dripping blood. He could feel it prickling across his skin like electric wire.

His senses were getting all messed up- his heart was going too fast- his breathing getting too worked up. The hero was falling out of the sky like a comet- crashing to the cement like a falling star. Debris clung to his ruined jacket and super suit like stardust- and the hero wanted to sleep amongst the darkness. It wouldn’t hurt as badly there… right? Would the weird noises and strange feelings and weird colors stop if he just- let go? It was tempting- now that he was buried half in the ground from falling.

And Chase almost lost to the darkness- but it seemed like it had some… fuzzy friends. Before the hero could drift into unconsciousness, a warm muzzle nudged his bruised and bloody cheek, causing his eyes to flutter back open. Chase slowly turned to see who… only to be met with the bright green glowing eyes of a few black panthers. And… the gaze of a certain dark magician, staring down at the fallen hero with an unreadable expression.

The panthers gathered around Chase, slowly prowling. Some sniffed at his hair. One gently licked his wounds, causing the hero to flinch and curl in on himself, though he tried to weakly laugh it off.

“N-Nice kitties- g-gentle…”

Slowly, Magnificent knelt down by Bro, studying him with a tilted head.

“... You look like shit, Fantastic,” The villain finally said. “Where the hell were you trying to go like this? You’re not that much of a moron, despite how you look.”

Chase laughed, though it caused him to wince as it hurt his ribs and side. Shit- the fall must have damaged something there too… He feels so delirious… all of this felt like a dream. Maybe he’ll wake up soon. Make this nightmare end already. The hero turned slightly and gives the cat masked magician a lopsided not-all-here smile, a lightheaded giggle popping through his sentences.

“I-I got- into a f-fight… I was l-looking for y-you actually-!” Chase laughs even more, before curling in on himself, the pain starting to be too much as his voice starts to warble, the edges of his vision going black.

“D-didn’t… know where else… to go…”

The hero gets to see the subtle widening of Magnificent’s eyes before the drug pulls him under completely.

It started off in pure warm blackness- nothingness. A fucking relief, as far as Chase was concerned. No voices, no static, no crazy glitches or sights. Just… peace. Just dark.

Then- all of sudden, like being thrown from your seat in a car crash Chase was thrown into a new setting. Somewhere he’d never seen before. But somewhere he felt like he should know.

It was a small cozy little home. It looked well lived in. Toys were strewn across the floor. Piles of laundry topped the couches. Chase could see the frills of tiny dresses and the bright colors of sporty clothing and dinosaur shirts. It made him smile faintly to himself, a warm feeling in his chest.

He was sitting at what looked like a dining room table though, peeking into the living room. He looked down at what was before him and it made his heart stop- his insides freeze. Official documents in too neat of print… spiraled already with one signature at the bottom, ready to be matched with another. Divorce papers.

There’s pressure behind his eyes as a hot tear falls down his cheek and drips onto his hand. He looks down to his left hand, where the tear dropped and feels a black hole in his stomach. Where’s- where’s his ring?

He scoots out of his chair in a panic- he might be losing his wife but he won’t lose his ring! He started frantically turning over plates and other piles of mail and paper, trying to catch a glimpse of it.

The squeaking of a door behind him alerts Chase to a new presence. Quickly turning his head, he sees another man enter the room, looking much like him but wearing a black shirt and a worn blue hoodie. A black handkerchief is wrapped around his neck with a smiley face stitched sideways on its surface.

“Hey bro, you ready to go?” The man says, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking up at Chase expectantly. Chase is at a loss for words.

It’s… it’s Alt. His brother- but… that can’t be right. Chase doesn’t have a brother. Not here. Alt doesn’t belong here.

“...who are you…?” Chase asks quietly, taking a step back away from the boy before him. “You- you shouldn’t… be here.”

Alt stares at him incomprehensibly for a second. Then, slowly a cruel grin curls on his lips as his eyes darken to pure black. His form glitches- his hoodie and mask phasing off and his neck- his scar suddenly starts to drip blood. A mad giggle pries itself from Alt’s throat as he cracks his neck and steps closer to Chase.

“͞N͏é͟i̧͞t͟h̡e̕r̢̧ ̸s̶h̢̕ǫù̶l̨͡d͡ ̶͘y̨o̵͞ư͟.̴̢”

Before he can even register it, Chase is thrust to the floor. The scenery shifts suddenly cast in bright red light. The glitch cackles insanely, a knife materializing in his hand. Chase panics and manages to catch Anti’s arm before the knife can get close to his throat.

The demon giggles more, his form glitching so much it’s hard to concentrate. One second he looks like Alt- the next he looks like this.

“͜U҉s͜͟i̡͟n̢g͞ ̷y̸o̧̕u͞r͟ ͘͡h̵e͠r̷̕o̵͢ ̴͘s҉t͟r̕҉e͠n̢ģt̢h҉̢ ̡h̨҉e̷r͟e̵?̴͝ ̸D̡͘o̷n̡͜’̢̀t҉͝ ̸́y̨o̡҉u͜ ͟͝t̢͝h̸̵i̷̵n̕k̡̛ ̨͜t́h̷͜a͜͝t͞’̶s͏͡ ̵̢c̴h̴e̷a͟͠t͟i͟n͜͡g̕ ̴͡B̵͘r̕o͏͘d̡͡y̸̕?̧̧”

“W-What are you talking about?!” Chase stammers, trying to keep his upper hand. Though said hand slips- and the knife goes plunging into the floor right next to Chase’s ear. The father grits his teeth then thrusts two powerful kicks into the glitch’s stomach, launching him off. Chase quickly gets to his feet and pulls out something from his pocket, as if on instinct. A gun.

“Where are they?!” He screams, pointing the barrel at glitch on the ground. “Where're my kids? My wife? Marvin, Jackie?! Schneep?! JACK?! WHERE ARE THEY?!”

The glitch is just pulling himself up to his knees and then looks up to Chase. His freckled face is filled with fear, wide blue eyes pleading. He scrambles backward, limbs shaking as tiny harmless glitches buzz on his shoulders.

“C-Chase…” Alt chokes out, “Y-you wouldn’t u-use that one m-me right?” He sounds so scared… so unsure.

Chase stares at the boy for a second before it clicks. A weight sits on his stomach and he quickly lowers the gun, feeling disgusted with himself. What was he doing?

“A-Alt I- I-I’m Sorry-“

Alt then grins again as his eyes turn black as night and he glitches underneath Chase’s feet. As he does- the ground gives way, causing him to fall- fall away into nothingness- to blackness. Chase feels himself screaming but hears nothing, sees nothing. The red light of that hallway gets swallowed whole.

…….

Beep...beep….beep…

The steady sound a heart monitor is what greets Chase as he starts to enter back into the waking world. And waking- well, waking sucks.

Chase’s lungs feel like they’re on fire. It’s really hard to breathe, his chest rising and falling with difficulty. It takes him a second to realize he has something inserted into his nose… a ventilator. It’s working slowly to help get proper air back into his lungs. Chase closes his eyes and wheezes, not liking the uncomfortable feeling.

Taking stock of the rest of his body… the hero can hardly move. His body is stiff- too heavy. He could have been sedated- but was it the drug Overdose gave him or…?

...Overdose!

With a wild gasp, Chase’s half-lidded eyes fly open and he flops to try to sit up, chest heaving and panic on his face. He has no idea where he is- how did he get here? It’s some kind of- hospital? Who took him here? He can’t- he can’t remember! All he remembers is getting injected and then- glitching and darkness-

There’s a warm flash of green in front of the hero’s eyes before a force sends him falling back onto his pillow with a soft oof. Chase blinks in confusion and looks into the corner of the room, where the sunlight isn’t hitting and the shadows can easily hide the room in mild darkness. A single green eye flashes at him as a hand lingering with green magic lowers into a brunette man’s lap. The man- he’s not familiar. His hair is long- swept to the side and pulled into a ponytail. He’s dressed semi-casually, a dress shirt and blazer over a nicer pair of jeans. He glowers down at Chase before smirking slightly.

“Careful Fantastic, don’t go soiling all my good work with your idiocracy.” The man says in a sarcastic tone.

It clicks in Chase’s head as he blinks, shifting on his pillows to sit up better.

“...M- Magnificent…?”

The disguised magician grins as his left eye glows again. He puts a finger to his lip, “The one and only.”

The hero’s mind is reeling.

“I… I don’t understand… y-you… you saved…me…?”

Magnificent’s smile falls and he looks away slightly, crossing his arms and sitting back in his seat. He looks out the window of the little hospital room, contemplating his words before he finally says, “... Cat tranquilizer.”

“...Excuse me?”

“The drug given to you. I recognized it. It’s ketamine. Also known as cat tranquilizer.” The dark magician said shortly, acid in his voice. He refused to look at the hero, instead keeping his eyes on the city skyline outside.

Chase’s mind was still so fuzzy but… “...You knew… right away- right as you found me- otherwise I wouldn’t have…” Chase swallows and looks up at the villain, his emotions all confused.

Magnificent is silent for a second before a bitter laugh bubbles out of his throat. He flutters his fingers, green magic forming into a shape. The particles swirl into the shape of cat, that climbs up Magnificent's arm and he half smiles at it fondly and pets its chin.

“I am well acquainted with the drug. Very personally.” His smile drops as his hand around the cat construction turned from kind to cold, clawed nails suddenly digging in and bursting the magic in between his fingers. Furious eyes finally met Chase’s from across the room.

“Let’s just say, the other villains of this town sure do like their dramatic irony. Especially when dealing with a new, themed villain.”

Chase had a problem processing Magnificent’s words at first but once he did- his stomach dropped. Even Magnificent… had to deal with others being so cruel to him?

Finally, the dark magician broke contact and stood up, brushing himself off and adjusting his clothes and hair. He gave the hero a withering look.

“Anyways. Consider yourself lucky, Fantastic. This line of work is too boring without decent heroes to fight. So- recover. And don’t be so stupid next time. I’m not going to save your ass again.”

And with that, Magnificent turned heel and headed towards the door. But, just before he left, he paused with a hand on the doorframe and turned towards the hero.

“Oh… and don’t worry.” He touched his face where Chase’s mask was, making the hero realized it hadn’t been removed. “I didn’t peek.” The magician’s face broke into a sinister grin at that and he put a finger up to his lip again. His appearance then suddenly seemed to shift, never settling on one single appearance, blurring with color and confusing Chase’s already addled mind.

“After all, that would ruin our little game, wouldn’t it?”

Magnificent chuckled and waved, and in a buzz of static and color, he was gone.

Chase sighed and sat back fully on his pillows, exhausted beyond belief. He… still couldn’t believe all that had just happened. Or...get that too realistic dream out of his head-

He… he was feeling like he was missing something… something important.

Chase ended up rubbing his ring finger on his left hand absentmindedly before he drifted back to sleep.