anonymous asked:
For the prompts, can I get 66 with the hero au, and with anyone. Thanks :D
Warnings: Alcohol, Drinking, Hallucinations, Torture (sound-based), Swearing, Demeaning Nicknames/Phrasing
Prompt 66: "Get out of my head."
(Superhero AU, canon to universe)
Angus let out a slow breath as he slipped off his mask and tossed it aside. He didn't watch where it landed. He'd just find it later when he went out again. His jacket and boots followed suit–all before he'd even made it to the kitchen of his small apartment.
He reached into the fridge; rummaged about a bit until finding a liquor bottle and taking it with him to the living room.
The apartment was quiet. A safe haven away from the streets where he donned his mask and called himself Bloodhound. Angus slouched low into the couch as he took a long drink right from the bottle. Not even his partner knew where he lived. He'd prefer to keep it that way. Sure, he liked the guy, but he could only deal with Toymaker's incessant chatter for so long.
It wasn't long before aching limbs were relaxing into the soft cushions, drink set aside on the coffee table.
He rubbed at his eyes, yawned when he realized he hadn't slept whatsoever the night before.
Angus startled when the liquor bottle tipped over to send alcohol across the table and onto the cheap shag carpet. His mouth hung open as he blinked dazedly down at it. Don't kick the table, he scolded himself. How much had he drank? He couldn't tell now that it was spilled.
He shook his head; leaned forward to right it. His hand missed the bottle.
Angus shook his head again when his vision swam.
He hadn't drank enough to be drunk. …Had he?
He sat bolt upright when the floor creaked, but immediately regretted it when it made nausea twist his stomach.
Shhh.
The voice was soft. He couldn't pinpoint its origin in the dark apartment. Angus swallowed as his nostrils flared. The only scent he could pick up was his own body odor; the creaking stopped so that all he could hear was his own heartbeat.
This is a safe place, he reminded himself. You've gotta be dreamin', mate.
Look here.
Look where? Angus bared his teeth and pulled a blade from his belt. His vision swam again; he could see static at the corners of it.
Ah-ah. Play nice.
The knife was swatted from his hand and clattered off into the darkness. Cold hands snaked up his wrists, to his shoulders, found his neck. He didn't dare move as sharpened nails danced over his throat before the feeling was gone again.
The static crept across his vision; assaulted sensitive ears. Popping. Screeching. Angus hissed and pressed his hands over them when the volume continued to rise.
You like making them wonder. Don't you, Dog?
No matter how hard he pressed his hands over his ears, the voice still rang clear with its strange pitch-changing that grated on his hearing.
"S-stop…"
You like seeing them hope, but then turn to the other side just to watch it shatter when their offer isn't good enough. Such a greedy little puppy.
Angus could practically hear the smile in the other's tone. He dug his nails against the side of his head; squeezed his eyes shut when the volume increased again.
What happens when a new opportunity comes up, Dog? How long until you stab your partner in the back? Or, until he stabs you in yours?
"Ngh… Dammit, get outta my head!"
That ink… It would make for such a terrifying way to drown.
He could make out the silhouette. Barely. It stood even darker than the unlit apartment.
You really should choose a side. All your back-and-forth and back-and-forth is getting tiring. No one likes a bandwagon jumper and you're going in fucking circles. Chasing your own damn tail.
The figure scoffed. "Figure." He almost wanted to scoff himself if his ears weren't practically fucking bleeding. He knew exactly who this was.
Can sniff out anything and can't even smell your own bullshit.
Angus yelped when the figure–the Glitch–was suddenly on him; strong hands wrapping around his throat and threatening to squeeze. The deafening noise stopped so suddenly it was disorienting.
Pick a side. I'm getting tired of your shit, Bloodhound.
AN: Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!
