#and YES the pile is too long for human skin on human characters. i dont care. i think peach is allowed to be furry if she wants

[bmpmp3]

i wish plushies still used that like, really dense slightly longer pile minky-like fabric they used in like the old dakin garfield plushes or those bandai kirbies or like the vintage color me mario toys. i imagine its 1) probably too expensive 2) maybe hard to print patterns on? and 3) obscures too many details (especially for licensed merchandise) for companies to use nowadays but nothing is more appealing to me than a plush that looks like this:

[damonsexywifey]

helo today i am going to be talking about daddy papi sexy icon Damon Salvatore. I know im fucking obsessed but this man makes my ovaries explode so i need some way to let it all out so here i go

first things first his mf looks

his eyes omfg his eyes he could stare at me and i would melt his bright blue eyes i already am quite a fan of pretty eyes but his eyes ive been obsessed for a very long time like wtf his eyes are so seductive and for what why do you do this to me huh damon why oh why HIS eyes omg when he looks at elena is with such care and love, id PAY for him to look at me like that HE COULD STOMP ON ME AND ID SAY SORRY AND THANK YOU ok now his little smirk oml when he did something bad he'd do his little smirk and i know it'd be very sociopathic of me to actually enjoy that but why the fuck did i get turned on by that why is he such a sex icon big dick energy is radiating I COULD LITERALLY BE WATCHING A SCENE OF HIM AND ELENA FLIRTING CASUALLY AND I'D BE SWEATING THAT WOULD FILL A WHOLE OCEAN I'D NEED TO PAUSE AND TAKE A BREATHER BECAUSE THAT MAN IS TOO MUCH FOR ME.

OMG THESE SCENES WERE SO EXCITING FOR ME, ID PAUSE AND JUST ADMIRE THE ELEGANT BODY OF THIS SUCH MAN AND THERE WERE SO MANY BATHROOM SHOTS OF THIS MAN HAVING A SHOWER LIKE I DONT BLAME THE DIRECTOR REPEATING THIS SHOT

WHY YOU SAY?? I MEAN LOOK AT HIM ITS NOT FAIR CAN I BE ELENA

SCREAMS SCREAMS UMM DONT BE SHY UNBUTTON MORE

OK NOW IVE DONE A LOOKS ASSESSMENT. IT IS OFF TO DO A PERSONALITY ANALYSIS BECAUSE HE COULDVE BEEN REALLY HOT AND HAD A DEAD PERSONALITY like matt (sorry matt ps i still love you) but no damon has not let me down with his personality so lemme talk about that

the fucking humour:

OK THIS IS JUST mf fragments to his smart ass humour but omg this guy is carrying the show with its humour, i find humour extremely attractive so him just being a little devilish sociopathic smart ass bastard boy is all i ask for and it was received, stefan is great lemme tell u that but one of the reasons its damon>stefan for me its maybe because i prefer playful characters who can quit the intensity and actually have fun so yea personal preferences come into this

Emotional:

my boy is very emotional, hes a vampire yada yada but he hasnt flicked the switch off of his humanity hes still a ball of fluff who tries to cover it up with spikes so he seems tough but some sad scenes you can see right through him like some above. The first one is him letting things pile up over and over again and its killing him in the inside hes such a cinnamon roll and all he needs is a hug and someone to tell him hes gonna be alright...can i plz volunteer to do that ✋

the second one was a scene that made go waaaaaaa and tear up because that was the scene when he was opening up about how he wants and loves elena but shes not hers, shes stefans around then. The fact hes showed as some type of dickhead but he could be rlly douchy and literally just steal her away from stefan but he doesnt because shes "brothers girl" aaa hes caring and it hurts how much he does and his sad scenes hurt, hes not bad hes just very broken inside.

Unapologetically Honest

one of the reasons i love about him is that hes just so mf honest which is ironic because around s2 its just elena calling him a liar anyways hes honest with a lack of apology which i feel like would be extremely necessary when theres a flock of bad guys always at your doorstep, sugar covered words aren't needed tbh thats where his honesty comes in

hes aware of himself and knows that he can be dickhead some way or another so its funny when hes aware kinda gives definition to his character being a self proclaimed dickhead

i stan alarics and damons friendship theres so mf honest with eachother, alaric could be getting emotional about his relationships and this man could just go "but they're dead.. *sips tea* " hes so unbothered theres something attractive about it

Romantic:

umm so i kinda forgot the post only allows 10 pics so you lot are lucky enough that u get a video

anyways im extremely attracted to intense romance rather than cutesy lovey dovey, this guy ticks the box for intense hes so mf sexy with like one touch can u explain this science to me BECAUSE THIS GUY SCREAMS SEX WTF AND I HAVE NO IDEA HOW ELENA CONTROLS HER SEXUAL DESIRES BECAUSE BITCH U SURE DO KNOW I'D DO ANYTHING THIS BASTARD WOULD TELL ME TO DO ANYWAYS THERE WAS THIS SCENE WHERE ELENA WAS WORKING OUT AND THIS GUY WAS TOUCHING HER RIBCAGE OR SOMETHING AND THE HEAVY BREATHING I'D PROBABLY FAINT IN HIS ARMS BUT THIS WOMAN HELD IT TOGETHER CAN HE PLZ TAKE ME ADOPT ME ILL LIVE IN UR HOME I'LL LIVE IN THE TINIEST PLACE IN UR HOUSE I DONT MIND ME I JUST NEED TO BE GRACED BY UR LOOKS the intensity is legit like fire to the skin, i blush and scream for elena im a literal pterodactyl screeching when he comes on screen with him naked and one towel covering his big dick i would write the director a mf big ass letter to persuade him to let damon walk in with no towel pls i beg cmon u can do it i know u want too

anyways overall damon salvatore is my husband papi daddy and i do admit i simp for him and hes hit me like a wrecking ball im on s3 for vampire diaries ill keep u lot updated if anything happens in my shift of simp but for now im kind of addicted to this bootylicious babe actually now i think about it what if i actually ever meet him or something id probably weep and faint yes that'd happen ill probably just stare and i dont blame him if he kicks me out for being a creep anyways uh this was my essay hope u lot enjoy because i sure as heck enjoyed screaming my burning passionate love for Damon Salvatore if someone was selling a damon salvatore in store id be the first one to purchase and i feel like i speak for the nation of damon simps ily babes because i totally understand this lust you have for him

anywho bye bye xoxoxo

[tumblunni]

I had a kinda weird but nice daydream last night. It was more of a daydream cos i was concious enough for it to make a little sense, but also drowsy enough that its a bit more incoherant and Edgy than my usual oc thoughts

I just got the sudden strong imagery of a guy walking through a destroyed town and all the dead people blossoming back to life as he passes

And i kinda thought a backstory for him maybe? He's an alchemist who devoted himself so much to honing his craft that he used himself as a test subject for all the most dangerous and heretical experiments and is now barely human anymore. One detail i could remember is that he had empty eye sockets that glowed, and sometimes spurted out into huge gushing tendrils of blue flame that twined around his head and wiggled like antennae. They'd kinda replaced his entire nervous system so if he wiggled them he could just sense all the facts about an object. Spirit sight or something? And probably some cool singular claw arm in a lopsided frankenstein aesthetic or something. Basically he's nothing more than Pure Poison Itself vaguely wrapped in a human shell. Like an undead look but more like a boneless husk whose skin has turned to cracked porcelain.

The backstory behind him making so many sacrifices for science is that his mum died of the plague when he was a vvery young child and he wants to become the world's best doctor who can save everyone from meeting the same fate. And he actually achieved his goal of defeating death itself, even if all he could do was turn himself into such an abomination that he can never die. Now he's travelling the earth trying to save people even though theyre all scared of him, while also trying to figure out which mixture of the million experiments he did on himself finally achieved this result.

I think maybe he can sorta partially manage to ressurect people? Like they come back as ghosts or skeletons or vampires or something. And he's all weeping with guilt that he's sentenced them to the same monsterous life as him but then a little kid hugs him for bringing her mom back. *sniff*

Also i think maybe he has a kid sidekick that he's sorta adopted as a little sibling? They were one of his earlier attempts to raise the dead, and they got ostracized by their parents for being unholy and stuff. So he adopted them, but he's always trying to find another family that can adopt them cos he feels like he isnt good enough. Also, ghost dog!! He accidentally spilled his magically-charged abomination blood onto his childhood pet's ashes and it came back in a spooply form! I just imagined his sheer unrestrained joy and weeping as the lil guy immediately recognises its owner all grown up and jumps up all happy like YOURE TALL NOW HEY HEY LETS PLAY! This poor dude needs a little relief from his angsty life honestly. I imagine him just running around super 100% hyperactive happy with this little pupper and adoptive sibling who's never seen him not being grumpy and sad is like "oh my god he's been replaced by aliens"

ALSO!! I WAS THINKING!! YES!! THE MUM DOES COME BACK!!

I was thinking that probably using his imperfect ressurection power costs a lot of his energy and he has a problem with being so self sacrificing he always ruins his health for the sake of others. He's like 'well i cant stay dead so i may as well die as many times as possible to help people'. Him coming home riddled with arrows and collapsing into a bloody pile at his sibling's feet and then in the morning when he's still stuck in bed sleeping off the enormous pain he cant understand what his sibling is upset about. Like he has no value in himself because he's so guilty that he hasnt finished the ultimate panacea yet. Disregarding the fact that nobody even asked him to, and he's already done so much to help so many peopke!! TAKE CARE O YOU SELF, BRO!!

Anyway, where was i?

Oh yeah! Well i was thinking maybe he was doing some mass healing in a town somewhere. Cos oh yeah even his regular cures for stuff are still made with his own blood. He's like a walking vessel for every poison ever made in this world or the worlds beyond. ELDRITCH ASPIRIN MAN! oh actually it could be a cool aesthetic to have him all bandaged up like an edgy anime character

WHERE WAS I

Oh yeah! Well he's super mega exhausted from expending all of his magical energy and working until the crack of dawn. So he's stumbling home down the same usual route, but he passes out halfway there. And then he wakes up to see his mother tucking him into bed and bringing chicken soup. Like "I DUNNO IF IT WORKS FOR MAGICAL SICKNESS I AM VERY CONFUSED OKAY" Turns out that just by pure coincidence he'd accidentally found the spot where the mass grave for plague victims was made back in the day. And he's extra super mega sick now cos he subconciously reached out to their souls and ressurected them in his sleep. And he's just weeping so much cos he thought he'd never find her and he's guilty he subjected her to a life of being an undead monster too, and he's like 'dont look at me ive changed so much you must be ashamed' and just MAXIMUM EMOTION OKAY!! And also 'oof ouch my everything' cos flailing around panicness aint good in your condition, dude!

So big happysad reunion and him having the longest most peaceful nap he's had in years, lost in distant memories of her reading him bedtime stories as a child. (Maybe even wakes up as she's reading a bedtime story to little sib, and gets so emotional he wakes them up with his sobbing?) And its not all perfect, there's a bit of a rift in the way of just being perfevt family again cos well its been so long and he's grown up and its basically like meeting a new person and starting over. Yet also with all the pressure of knowing how things used to be and being terrified of messing up. ALSO there are like fifty other zombies walking around outside confused as fuck! I think maybe the mum becomes the new mayor of a weird little shanty town that springs up overnight and the neighbours are all like 'what do we do with suddenly acquiring a new trade route with another city state' and also 'AAA ZOMBIES'. Complex futures await out heroes! But i have faith that this little awkward family will make it work!!!

[amoristt]

Among the Inbetweens | Nathan x Reader

disclaimer: i know nathan is not a good person. i am not putting a blanket over his actions in this fic. i, the writer, understand he’s not an innocent character and has made many terrible choices. im just answering people’s requests, please dont put me under the fire for it.

thank you.

moody-patootie asked: I would please like to request a nathan x reader songfic with the song Findlay by Landon Tewers (angsty perhaps?). If it is possible and interests you of course. I think it fits rather well with nathan since he was so unloved.  sure thing!! i love song requests so much :3 also thanks for recommending me this song, i love it and i now have a new artist to look into :D in this fic i really wanted to explore the ‘bad parts’ of being in a relationship with nathan prescott, namely his breakdowns. in my fics i mostly portray him in his better, more loving lights, so when you suggest angst i realized now would be a perfect time to show his sides that are harder to deal with. thanks for giving me the opportunity <3 hope you like it!

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

Among the Inbetweens

Upon the very instant you walking into his room, unaware of what you were about to throw yourself into, you realized you really should have called Nathan before just barging in.

The tenacity in the air was almost palpable and it set off alarms that rang in your head like bells, warning you of the situation you were about to have to deal with. Nathan, sitting at his desk with his back faced to you, his shoulders squared and his head ducked down to his shoulders. He was angry.

“Nathan?”

He lifted his head, turned and he glared at you from the corners of his eyes. You felt your stomach drop.

Not mad. Pissed.

“What.” He deadpanned, his voice a rumbling hiss, and you debated just turning around and leaving right then and there.

You swallowed and shut his door behind you, shuffling into the room but staying close to the wall. “What’s wrong?”

The course, airy laugh he forced out made you cringe. 

“Same shit every fucking day,” He laughed viciously. “Day in, day out.”

“What happened?”

In an impulsive, fury induced movement, he shoved all the papers off his desk and turned his swivel chair to face you. You jumped at the movement, taking note of his aggression only increasing. His features were stone cold, eyes narrowed and chilling. His phone was gripped almost devastatingly tight in his right hand. This was bad. Very bad.

“What happened?” He asked as though you were dumb. You frowned.

“Yes, what happened?”

He suddenly stood, sending his chair back and hitting his desk, shaking it and tipping over the small jar of pencils he had sitting on top of it. They spilled and rolled over the edge, clattering on the floor.

“What do you think happened?”

Try as you might to not take his words personally, you still knit your brows at his crudeness. He’s just mad, you told yourself. He’s so fucking mad but it’s not at you.

“I’m so fucking-” he gripped his hair and stumbling back. “Sick of it, everything- I don’t even fucking live with them and they still- Ugh!” He kicked some of the pencils that laid near his feet. “I hate it!”

Of course you knew the minute you saw his anger it likely had something to do with his family, but this wasn’t just his normal agressions. He was blind right now, not thinking clearly as he sent another pencil skittering over the floor. You remained silent, unsure of way to say, and you guessed maybe it was best you didn’t say anything at all. Right now was not the time to console him.

A storm was coming and you could see it in his eyes, his stature.

“They don’t care!” He snarled, and you realized he was more venting out his anger to himself rather than saying it directly to you. A pit formed in the center of your stomach as you realized what was to come any second now. He turned his back on you, body trembling with fiery rage. For just a second he looked down at the phone still in his hand, then he store his gaze away, and the next thing that happened you almost didn’t register.

The phone came less than a foot from your head, clashing against the wall with what sounded like a fatal crack. It happened so fast, you’d barely even seen him whip his arm to launch the device, and you flinched seconds after it smashed into pieces. The pieces gathered in a pile on the floor, the phone now absolutely destroyed and covered with it’s own screens shards. The wall sported an inch long hole.

Nathan did not come out of his rage even after you cried out sharply, jerking away from your spot and swearing you had felt some of the glass fling against your arms. If anything he seemed even more tense and furious than before, his bony hands balling and un-balling dangerously. He wanted to swing at something, break something, hurt something and even though he’d never once gone so far as you injure you this time you wondered if it would be a first. There wasn’t one clear thing in his mind right now, it probably all felt like a mush, or maybe static. He wasn’t even close to being in his right mind. Maybe tonight was his breaking point.

With him standing menacingly in the center of the room you made your way along the wall, finding his bed and soundlessly settling yourself on top of it. You tried to make yourself smaller upon it, your legs tucking themselves to your chest. Knowing him and his triggers, you did not look directly at him. Instead you watched from the corners of your eyes, head turned incase he looked up at you so you could quickly turn away and pretend to not see the hate in his eyes.

“Bullshit,” he seethed, and hissing ferocity made you shiver. “It’s all fucking bullshit.”

You wanted to talk to him. You wanted to tell him it was okay to be upset, to be hurt, to hate, but you couldn’t. Surely if you dared to speak up to him directly right now he’d yell at you, and then you’d end feeling hurt and that wouldn’t help anyone. Right now Nathan needed silence. He needed space and solitude. He could get none of these things.

So much was gathering up inside of him, like a pit of snakes or something far worse. They coiled and writhed inside of him, made their way up to his heart and choked the life out whatever was left of it, and he was left facing the consequence of having your entire chest busted and tied. Without an outlet all of it manifested at the very base of his throat, behind his eyes, in the palms of his shaking fists that would do anything for a face to target. You’d never seen him this way, with such a spark that made you feel like everything around you was suddenly so flammable, you included. You stared at him like you imaged a rabbit would stare at a fox: terrified and frozen with apprehensive tension. At any moment you felt like he’d lunge at you, but he didn’t, and it only made the trepidation grow within you until you almost imaged him making his move.

Only, it wasn’t your imagination.

He did make his move, but you were not the paper he lit on fire. Instead it was he himself, his fingers tracing their way down his face, nails biting into his pale skin and dragging along the way. A sharp painful cry left his lips but you felt as though the agony wasn’t from the physical wounds he was dealing onto himself. When he was done with his first path he did it again, harder this time, eyes squeezed shut and his mouth a tight grimace. Without even thinking you sprang into action and made a move for his hands, gripping tight to his skinny wrists and all too easily prying them from his marked up face. At the sudden contact he tried to yank away but you held fast, tugging him with you as you took a step back to try and keep himself from trying again.

“Stop!” You begged, heart leaping and your breath billowing in your throat. He was still trying to rip away from you, stumbling backwards and jerking back his elbows. When he looked up at you, you did not recognize even a single part of those eyes. He was more akin to a wild animal, frightened and frantic, than he was human. His eyes were dark and afraid, and at that moment they were afraid of you.

You felt like you were wrestling with him but you didn’t give in, holding fast and unwavering even as he started giving into it. His will was draining now, that fury that had once been eating him alive beginning to combust inside of him. The compressions of his heart and chest started to loosen and you hoped he felt like he could breathe again.

“Nathan,” try as you might to reach him, he still limply tried to pull away from you. His actions were half hearted and tired but still consistent, so you didn’t lighten your grip until the last of his anguished tugs were replaced with tortured breaths. You carefully led him to the bed where you had been sitting, and although he was sluggish and lagged behind your movements, he still followed you and did not fight when you urged him to sit down beside you.

Countless marks ran down his face, angry and red. The nails on his shaking hands were short but apparently dangerous, able to work as claws if he was enraged enough. Luckily they weren’t sharp or uneven enough to draw any blood but the marks were still very radiant, running down from his brows, over his eyelids, to his sharp cheekbones like a ugly streamers. His split lip still bled from how hard his teeth had sank into the flesh, and his tongue still darted out to subconsciously try and soothe the stinging.

At least he was letting you touch him. Even if his state of breaking, all his walls starting to crumble down and crush him, he was allowing you the grace of sitting next to him and silently offering whatever support you could. There was so many words swimming in your head, so much you wanted to say that you could almost physically feel it bubbling up in your chest, threatening to burst at any moment.

Nathan, leaning forward with his face in his hands, was both silent and deafening. No longer did his shoulders tense up, fists ready to crack on any surface they could find. He was quiet and still, but there was also a part of him that roared like thunder. His cries.

They were soft, barely noticeable unless you were to see his state, but to you they were all you could hear. Loud, unforgiving, piercing. Your chest ached with every angry sob, every harsh intake of his uneven breaths. Before you had been afraid he was too far gone during his act of rage but it always came back down to this, both soundless yet thunderous. He was the calm of his own storm, and he was a rain that licked away it’s wounds afterwards. He was both the ferocious river, dragging everything along with it, and the gentle trickle that followed close behind.

Your hand met the expensive fabric of his jacket and he didn’t respond, so you let it wander past his shoulder to his upper back. Up, down, gently rubbing over his clothed skin. Not only was the repetitive movements hopefully helping him, but they were also helping you. You timed your breathing to the movements, your thudding heart starting to come down from your previous fears. You should have known it would come down to this. Nathan could be the scariest person you’d ever met, but even he got tired eventually. The only thing that presented a problem afterwards was everything bounding in your head, from the things he’d blindly said to you to the things he’d blindly thrown at you. His phone still laid demolished on the floor a few feet away, that new crack in the wall taunting you.

“Nathan,” you whispered, and he didn’t answer. “Nathan?”

He still didn’t answer. His muffled sobs continued on, adding weight after weight to your chest and making your own eyes sting. You gently scratched against the top of his jacket before rubbing in small circles.

“Can you hear me?”

Thankfully Nathan did seem to be able to hear you. He nodded and then sniffed, then let his hands fall limply to his lap. The sight of his face, still littered with claw marks but now glistening with tears, made you have to look away for a minute.

Now that you had his attention your mouth ran dry, unsure of what to say next. You’d wanted his attention to make sure he was lucid in some ways, but now that he was waiting for you to say something you had no idea what you could possibly tell him to make this situation any more bearable. Actually, you didn’t even know the situation, how could you possibly help him?

Still though, his eyes reached yours, longing and expectant. He wanted you to say something, anything. As always it made you wonder how someone as mountainous as Nathan could appear so small at times, like a small child asking you for help; needy, afraid. The worst possible thing you could do right now was not say anything, so you wracked your brain for literally anything to say.

“Are you okay?” You’d blurted, and the second those words left your mouth you wanted to smack it. ‘Are you okay?’ The question was so painfully obvious, so ludicrous and dense, but he went on to answer it anyways, looking down at his lap.

“No.”

His voice was much… Softer than you’d anticipated. Then it struck you that no, his voice did not sound soft, it sounded broken. Soft was kind and gentle, warm to the ears and touch, but his was none of those things. His answer was blunt and simple, cold, and raw with scratches on his throat. The walls that which buried him had yet to disappear, so instead of fighting them he gave in. Nathan was tired, exhausted from his previous outburst that he’d likely be replaying in his head for the rest of the week. Every little thing would set him off in the worst ways.

Your hand found it’s way to his lower back, but this time he tensed beneath your palm, so you slid it right back up to the spot he’d been compliant with. “Is there anything I can do?” Once again your words felt dumb. After what you’d seen simple minded questions were likely the last thing you should be asking him about. But, you didn’t want to ask him what had happened. Of course you were curious but you didn’t want to trigger him into another melt down, especially not when he was already so jaded and worn out.

For a moment he looked at you, turning his head just enough to get his peak before once again covering his face and shaking his head. “No.” He mumbled, and you frowned in defeat. There wasn’t anything you could truly do for him other than stay at his side, offer some sort of grounding and peace for him to come back to when he’s released with his post-meltdown exhaustion.

“You should go.”

At first words didn’t register with you. You blinked at him a few times, processing, understanding, until you finally realized what he had said. “What?” you asked softly, leaning forward and trying to get a look into his eyes past his shielding hands. Never once had he asked you to leave him during a time like this. Usually it was the opposite, him calling for your aid during even his worst times of needs, but this time he didn’t want you to be there with him.

Once again he let his hands fall to his knees, his fingers toying with the fabric of his jeans. “You should go.” He repeated himself and didn’t meet your gaze, staring straight down. Your throat felt like it had been punched.

“Are you sure?” You asked.

“Yeah.” He answered.

You hated the way it made you feel. It made you feel an entire combination of things, but the most prevalent were useless and… Hurt. He didn’t want you to be around him, and though part of you understood it was because he was likely tired and wanted isolation, you still couldn’t help but take that blow to your ego.

Still, you nodded aimlessly, and swallowed down the rock forming at the center of your throat.

“Okay.” Your voice wavered and you knew he heard it with how he squeezed his eyes shut, almost in pain at hearing the sound.

As you got up, feeling like an animal with it’s tail in between it’s legs, you gazed down at him and took in the sight. Him just sitting there in silence, his entire body still slumped but not of relaxation, his face stinging with self inflicted scratches and his eyes still full of humiliating tears. There wasn’t a single thing you could do for him, and you finally understood what years of this had been doing to Nathan. In this moment you could see everything on him: the years of abuse, the pressure, the way he felt so unloved. The childhood trauma. Though you knew he beared these scars and marks you’d never seen them until this point, and it left you breathless. You so desperately wanted to stay, but you knew he wouldn’t let you even if you begged.

Nathan seemed to have read your mind. “I’ll call you.” was all he offered, a subtle way of telling you it was time to leave. You nodded again and thanked him softly, though you didn’t know exactly what you were thanking him for. Turning your back and leaving him felt entire levels of wrong but you did so anyways, and as you opened his dorm door you caught sight of that damn phone again and for some reason that was the one thing that finally let your tears take shape and leave a burning trail down your cheek. You shut the door softly behind you as you left and leaned against it on the other side, holding your sobs in with the palm of your hand.

The entire way home those tears still rolled down your face, from the moment you stepped out of the dorm room to the instant you stepped back into your own. They felt like scratch marks of their own and thankfully you didn’t run into anyone. All you wanted to do, you found, was lay down and sleep. You were tired too, and welcomed your mattress with a loud thud. Silence took it’s place and hung uneasily heavy over your room, cloaked your mind and body with fog.

You didn’t want to move from your place. You didn’t even want to roll over, not having the energy to even breathe evenly it seemed. With a whole lot of urging you managed to force yourself onto your back, staring up at your ceiling through blurry eyes. Things like this had happened so many times before, you’d think you’d have gotten used to it, but this time it felt… Different. You felt so unnaturally lonely.

Roughly you wiped at your eyes and sniffed, laying there on top of your blankets and pillows, wondering about Nathan as usual. After you’d left, what did he do? Did he cry, have another fit, break more things in his room? Or, worst of all, did he do nothing?

You felt selfish to be hurt at the idea of him doing nothing when you left, but you couldn’t help it. Something about the way he sounded, the way he looked at you, felt entirely new and you didn’t like it. His expression didn’t have any substance, his eyes almost entirely empty towards you. Perhaps tonight was his breaking point, but not nearly in the way that you had imagined it would be.

Sitting at your side your phone sat like a brick, unalerting and silent. ‘I’ll call you’, he’d said, but there wasn’t a thing in his voice that led you to believe he actually would.

The entire night felt strange and alien. It felt wrong, like it shouldn’t have happened, or should have happened a different way. You wondered what it was you could have done to change things even though it meant nothing now that it had all happened. You couldn’t go back in time, you couldn’t change the course of your actions, what little ones you had done.

Your ceiling, white and simple, served as a holder for your eyes to unfocus on. Though tired, anxious, and hurt, you just sat there in silence and waited to hear that obvious and obtrusive ringtone of yours. You waited until you finally fell asleep, eyes heavy with tears and uncertainty.

Your phone still sat beside you the entire night.

There was nothing.

[blackhatcannons]

Casual Black Hatcannons

The people have decided. The list is long (so it’s under the read more.) Happy 324 <3

Prior to arriving on Earth, Black Hat didn’t need sleep. He can still go much longer than a normal human without rest, but his mood can become fouler and fouler without the occasional break from having to do so much stuff/be around other annoying people

He’s able to have dreams (even though they’re often weird and narcissistic), and will sometimes spend time sleeping just to see if his subconscious can generate any ideas for new inventions to sell

Honestly as long as he gets some time to just sit down and not have to do anything (or even keep up his normal physical form) he’s basically asleep. For eldritch abominations like himself, it basically means letting his consciousness wander freely as he shuts down any physical functions. His form tends to get a little... less human-ish looser, when this happens

Black Hat doesn’t brush his teeth. (or floss.) First of all, his body is self-cleansing, so he normally doesn’t have to worry about showering and hygiene in general. Particles of dirt and blood and other toxins are normally absorbed through his clothes and skin, and then broken down inside his body.

Not to mention he has semi-acidic saliva. It’s not extremely corrosive, but it works well enough to keep his mouth clean between meals.

That being said, he’s lost teeth before. Chipped them, broken them, misplaced them– It’s fine though. he has teeth like a shark. literally, there are so many of them holy shit. They grow in rows and the new ones can replace the old ones very quickly.

When he transitioned from existing in a multidimensional plane to a less-multidimensional one, he never really realized that human bodies and clothes were two separate things. When he first designed his physical shape, he made his suit out of, well, the same material as himself. The clothes are just as sentient and sensory as the rest of him, and if someone touched his coat he’d turn around and be like “what.” It’s like having really snazzy looking skin that doesn’t have to be fully attached to your body and can also start growing eyes and teeth whenever you’re mad.

He never really got a full course in human anatomy, but it’s close enough, he thinks..? it’s just missing like all the organs. and a soul.

As a consequence of not knowing what the fuck a human is, BH also doesn’t know what the fuck gender is. He just sees humans, and humans are fucking morons so honestly who cares what they call themselves. it’s just easier to go with whatever pronouns they say than actually try to guess their genders (congrats BH on not being transphobic)

The old flash shorts (pilot version) of Black Hat was actually BH’s first attempt at making a human form. He later reshaped himself to “be more edgy”: becoming taller, narrowing his face, changing the design on his hat, etc.

After a hard day’s work, Black Hat can sometimes be so lazy that he wears his coat (and hat) to bed. Won’t even take off his shoes. Nasty. (Ofc he has his edgy villain pajamas he could change into but, eh. too much time.)

He can still take his clothes off, but they’ll eventually dissipate if separated from him long enough. It’s easier for him to just change the appearance of whatever his clothes (skin) currently looks like. He can still feel sensations through them, but it becomes harder to categorize them as “good” or “bad” the further away from his nerves they get

BH used to eat food like an amoeba. (He normally eats as a way to regain mass if he’s injured or needs to shapeshift.) But when encountering “prey”, his physical form kind of turns to a fleshy goop of teeth and eyes and blades that encircle whatever food it is; then he reforms. He only stopped eating like that bc it wasn’t classy enough. Utensils and etiquette are crucial for fancy villains- only dinner parties

BH likes to stay unnaturally light though. more mass makes him slow and he doesn’t like it when people are faster than him. He can also rapidly change the density of the particles in his body, mostly for fighting. It’s hilarious to see a hero break their hand trying to punch you.

BH’s body temperature depends on the environment he’s in. In the summer, he absorbs light really easily and is therefore around 90 (it’s the closest he can naturally get to human-temperatured without purposely changing it), while in the winter, he can be 30 or 45 degrees. Normally he will be 70 degrees (around room-temp), which still means his body is unnaturally cool. He can modify that as well though, and can decide if he wants to basically be a walking black ice cube or the temperature of hell’s oven. BH can’t feel temperature though, so it doesn’t really matter to him.

Those claws on his hands are a fucking pain. He can’t use a smartphone bc he doesn’t have fingerprints and his skin can’t conduct electricity. So he uses a fucking Nokia flip phone or a Blackberry, anything with buttons he can actually press

then again he sucks at technology in general, he knows more about gramophones than iPhones. Flug has been teaching him, but it’s a ...work in progress….. (”FLUG I BROKE IT AGAIN.” “Boss you shouldn’t play Flappy Bird if you have claws that can pierce through phones....”)

His hands are kind of like cat paws, the claws will normally slip out if he’s angry (99% of the time) or if he’s actually relaxed enough to just let them go (1%– you may now picture BH kneading a blanket and accidentally fucking eviscerating it)

His toes are just like his fingers, but he can’t afford to let them slip out. Otherwise he’ll pierce through his shoes and then it’s a pain to get them unstuck; he hates it.

(He let Dementia paint his nails ONCE (it was her birthday) and still hasn’t taken it off tbh. Ofc he can never tell her that.)

Once he caught Flug watching “How It’s Made” and he was about to go on one of his angry lectures again. but then he got distracted bc “wait, THAT’S HOW THEY MAKE FILIGREE GLASS?”

BH actually sits down next to Flug on the couch and they just silently watch it together. “How… how the hell do they get that all the same diameter?” “It’s really incredible, boss.” “They just, change the shape like that?? What the fuck???”

BH doesn’t speak of it again. Flug forgets about it until he walks into his office to deliver a report and hears something about “now they set the haggis out on cooking trays, and pierce each casing so–”

Black Hat thROWS HIS COMPUTER OUT THE WINDOW. TRYING TO ACT CHILL.

“Boss were you watching–” “AH YES FLUG HELLO WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU.” “Boss, it’s okay. I mean, the haggis episode is disgusting, but i really don’t care. here’s the report... Should I buy a new computer?” “……..yes.”

when he’s not watching How It’s Made he watches cheesy telenovelas WHAT

Don’t you dare fucking tell me these guys dont all watch telenovelas together on the couch with a fuckload of snacks as they all eagerly await the next moment BH loses his shit

“JUAN WHAT ARE YOU DOING HOW COULD YOU BETRAY MARIA LIKE THAT?!?! That man is the most evil character i’ve ever seen, take notes 5.0.5″ “Boss... you’re crying” “WHAT NO I’M NOT HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT WHAT THE FUCK”

BH’s favorite genre of music is classical (you know. like a nerd.) Apart from that, he’s also tried listening to screamo and death metal. While he enjoys screaming in general, he’s not really a fan of the genre, but he can appreciate the effort

in his spare time he probably sips at a glass of wine and reads his fucking quarterly profit reports in a comfy chair by the extremely scary-looking fireplace haha. He likes the sound of thunderstorms as well, mostly bc of the villain aesthetic he’s gotta keep.

Speaking of the villain aesthetic, he used to have a cat. A nice, fluffy white one that he could have sit on his lap while he sat in his desk chair facing the window, just so he could do the thing where he turns around like the most cliche villain ever

unfortunately, he can’t keep that act up for more than a week. by then the cat really looks like it’s living up to the name “Appetizer” and, well. you can tell what happens next. (5.0.5 cries, that’s what. BH coughs up white fur later.)

BH’s room is, like the entire house, very edgy. he has a massive 4-poster canopy bed, various sculptures and paintings of himself, and an enormous walk-in closet. Why does he have a closet if his clothes are part of his body, you ask?

The only reason his room looks so clean is because he hides all his personal belongings in the closet. Confiscated materials? Closet. Assorted skeletons? Closet. His secret collection of scented candles? Closet.

The girl scout cookie hoard goes under his bed. there’s also always a pentagram or two on the floor, some with notes saying “5.0.5 DO NOT ERASE”

One of the huge marble busts of himself has a keypad hidden under the hat, with a code needed to open his vault. but that’s only one half of the key; he also needs to perform a small ritual in his demonic circle to fully unlock the vault and disable the alarms on it. then he can enter the secret room where he stores all his money

(Sometimes he’ll just go inside it and roll around in his piles of cash for fun. it’s very therapeutic)

all those pictures of himself BH either had commissioned or gotten as gifts. I’d say he painted the all himself, but he’s not patient enough to actually spend time getting better at art. instead he just hires artists to make his vain af portraits.

He can also see through any reproduction of himself, including sculptures, shitty post-it note drawings, and yes, fan art. (So don’t call your fanart bad, or else BH will be offended you called him ugly!! he doesn’t care what it looks like, he’s vain enough to accept any art of himself no matter what it is haha)

Once Flug got him a metal paperweight as a gift. Jokingly, he told BH it was a stress ball.

BH fucking crushes it in one hand

(“Huh, some stress ball.” “B-boss that was made out of tungsten!!” “So? You said it was a stress ball!” “That’s stronger than steel!….Boss are you okay”)

Black Hat actually suffers some pretty bad migraines. he’s not supposed to exist in such a “low-res” plane of reality. Most of his kind exist in at least five dimensions, and it’s kind of hard to have made the switch over without losing some of his power. Shunting your consciousness between planes is kind of painful, and BH frequently receives physical reminders that he really should not have done that.

The migraines are painful and make BH crabby for the rest of the day; "dimension sickness" is awful for his mood. Flug has been trying to work on a cure to help him, but it's hard when the only materials you can work with are eldritch blood, flesh samples, and any liquid void goop BH coughs up.

Black Hat actually would work with a hero, only if it was to stop a villain that was a greater danger to his company. He’ll go against his Villainous principles to keep his business secure from any outside threat. Anyone targeting his corporation and friends employees is an enemy, and enemies will be destroyed.

BH has no idea how to: change lightbulbs, replace smoke detector batteries, use a microwave, or clean literally anything. (In that sense, 5.0.5 is more competent than him.)

Surprisingly, Black Hat actually files tax reports for his company. He believes that despite being a governmental institution, the IRS is "the most evil organization to ever exist" and appreciates how much pain it inflicts upon people each year.

Black Hat is a master of paperwork and legal documents. He could have probably been more successful as a lawyer than an arms dealer tbh. Suing people copying his patents is actually a breeze for him, and he doesn't pull any fucking punches when it comes to penalties for reselling his property

This also explains why he hasn’t been arrested yet. Can’t prove that his corporation isn’t just a hat factory when all the evidence, tax reports, and products lean towards that conclusion

BH can't cook for shit. That doesn't mean he can't enjoy human food though (even if he doesn't need it). Some of his favorite meals are humans, raw meat, rare steak (only when 5.0.5 cooks), black caviar, black truffles, black food in general, live mammals, that one cake Flug bakes sometimes, any red wine that actually tastes good, souls, foie gras, expensive food, candy (when taken from babies), ice cream (when taken from 5.0.5), and anything that really fits his dark aesthetic.

Black Hat doesn't really have a birthday. But that doesn't stop Dementia, 5.0.5, and Flug from celebrating. They use BH’s “entering the human world” anniversary as his birthday, and celebrate despite all BH's protests to not  (he secretly enjoys it, the vain bastard.

Flug normally works on an invention for him in his free time, little things that he thinks BH would find useful in his daily life. Like filing cabinets with auto-organizational systems, a voicemail system that can better filter out his calls, ballpoint pens that can write in blood. Stuff like that

Dementia makes coupon books. Things like "one free 'go away'” or “Shut up and be quiet for five minutes” or “stop destroying things for an hour.” BH always runs out of these within the month.

5.0.5 gets him cute things like mugs that say "world's best boss" and ties with nice patterns on them. BH throws a hissy fit about them, but it doesn’t stop him from wearing them

And finally, at the end of the day, even though his life is full of chaos and disasters, BH really doesn’t regret leaving his original plane of reality for this one. It’s weird and painful and he’s surrounded by annoying people, but he’d do it all again if he had to......... foR THE MONEY, OF COURSE. YEAH. BECAUSE HE’S A VILLAIN. GOTTA SELL THOSE DEVICES AND ELIMINATE HEROES RIGHT. YUP. THAT’S IT, THAT’S WHY HE STICKS AROUND WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S BC OF HIS FRI-- EMPLOYEES, WHAT? fucking wild

[dreadedjenocide]

Cherry walk

Usually i have fun little dreams where my brain does some fun self insertion fan fiction and good time are had by all but this one was kinda fucked up. Even I'm like, "what the fuck brain!" And my brain is like "idfk! Skcnrjxjndkaxjbdievfkd!!!" So this dream had Captain fucking American and Thor god of poptarts and great hair trying to hunt down and stop 'me' who was some super human type with shifting powers. No one knew what my powers where because i had a bunch but my main goal was to get this scientist who successfully cloned things to help me bring back my son. Who had been murdered in WW2, in my arms, while we where gunned down by Nazis. Yes, WW2, my dream self was fighting in WW2 against the Nazis as a spy type but i was eventually captured and with other female spys and prisoners i was forced to go on a "cherry walk",(BTW ive never heard this term before but my dream self knew and so did Cap) In the dream a Cherry walk is being tied to a truck or other mode of transportation and forced to run until you collapsed so you would be too tired to fight off the soldiers when they raped you because Nazis are lazy. To make it more fun for them sometimes the women would be forced to hold a small piece of fruit between their legs and promised to be left untouched if they could hold the fruit. No one could, but they would take bets on who could hold on to it the longest and torment the ones who couldn't saying they wanted to be raped because they dropped the cherry sooner than the others. So after my cherry walks and when they got bored with me i was thrown into one of the camps where some how i still grew a baby inside me. I wanted it to die, i cried and screamed at it wanting it out but when it finally came out, instead of dropping it down an empty well i fell in love with him. I loved my son and protected him the best i could until the day they lined us up to be gunned down, i tried to sheild my toddlers body with my own but the bullets passed through me, and the American soldier trying to add to protecting my boy. I remember death and waking up covered in dirt and blood still holding my child, i was dead, i had died, i remember the bullets ripping through my body but hours later i was up and screaming in a pile of dead bodies with my dead son in my arms. Its was night and the camp empty because the nazis moved on to run from the end of the war. Much of those years where a haze because i wandered around for weeks with my child, and became a ghost to some. I put my babies bones tiny coffin and went on a flying rampage to hunt down Nazis. I was able to smell the blood on them, in a sense i was much like a vampire, but not a traditional vampire. No garlic, or stakes in the heart could stop me. I had a reflection and could move in the sun unhindered. It was just bright AF. So back to modern times, I'm more than a bit crazy because of my obsession with my sons bones, and being killed in so many ways over the years. Kind of takes a toll mentally. Thor and Cap stop me from taking the scientists i need but they cant stop me from taking the things i need but while im hunting down what i need, the grown children and grandchildren of my victims (nazis) hunt me and find my babies coffin. Thor and Cap fight with me and when they take my prize i snarl and walk to the edge of a building and jump falling through a shadow and disappearing. Back in my lair i talk to my sons coffin about how excited i am that i will see him soon but go mad when i find its empty and find a note with a nazi style logo (the kids started their own group to avenge their parents, how cute and ironic) so i kinda go insane and this time come to Thor and Cap trying to ask for help but Thor reacts by attacking swinging his hammer at me because the last time we fought things got really rough. Like half a building falling on us rough, but i catch his hammer. Stopping his swing and snatching it away, he stumbles back in shock and Nat (who was called in) whispers too loud "Oh, shit." Im a bit of a mad mess, rambling in German, French and Spanish, crying and waving around Mjölnir like it was a paper fan. All the while the windows rattle and walls crack, Nat is desperately trying to translate but all she can really get from me is: "THEY took my son, they took his bones, my son, hes gone, he'll be scared, they will hurt him, the children of the fallen have taken my son!" Cap is slowly trying to approach me at this point hes shirtless and kind of still bloody from our last fight (thank you brain 😄) Hes trying to calm me but hes backing me into a corner unknowingly because Thor is also creeping up. I start panicking and screaming, Nat pushes back Thor and is trying to speak to me in German but scream and throw an accusing finger at her half asking half claiming 'Nazi' at her. She spoke Russian at me telling she was a spy long ago, and points to Steve saying American, Captain America. I stop flailing around and clawing at the wall's long enough to ask him why he didnt save us from the camps, (i dont remember the name of the place where this character died) where was he? I sobbed in french telling him about the American who died trying to sheild me and my son and he replies back in French that he was fighting a different side of the war, and was frozen by the time they started shutting down the camps. Thor looks confused but Nat looks impressed with Steve and he sits on the floor with crossed legs and i sit across from him as he calms me down speaking in French. Nat is quietly translating to Thor and the scientist and the scientist looks heart broken suddenly. Steve promises me that they will help me get back my son but asks my to sit while he talks with his team. They go over my potential threat but outside of scaring a bunch of people i didn't hurt anyone and i didnt destroy anything until they showed up. (My dream POV is of them talking and me in the background playing with the hammer getting bored and wandering off) The scientist sadly explains that i might go crazy again because with the age of the bones its unlikely or rather, impossible that he would be able to clone anything because the DNA has to be fresh. He claims that he would feel more comfortable if they befriended me and could keep me calm because my powers are spooky and im unpredictable. Their conversation is interrupted when they hear a man screaming followed by others screaming and the sounds of chaos. They run to the sounds and they find me standing over Bucky as he lay writhing on the floor with blood shooting from his arm stump and me holding whats left of his robot arm. I also have blood dripping from my mouth and i look to Steve and say in an eerily calm voice; "He was broken..." Bucky screams in pain on the floor but no one can move in to help, there seems to be a force feild around us. Steve is desperately trying to get to his friend but its Nat who sees whats actually happening. Bucky is in so much pain because hes regrowing his lost arm. Much like in the birth scene in Hellraiser its piece by piece and not baby arm to adult arm. Steve can only watch horrified as meat attached to bone and new skin grows in. I hold Bucky in my arms singing to him, as this new pink arm twitches and lays limp at his side but soon starts to move at his command. He calms as the pain dies down and Steve and the others are able to move in. Steve is in shock and Bucky is crying with joy as he touches his new arm. Nat looks at me and asks what i am, i say i dont know but i know what she wants to be. Reflexively her hand touches her lower belly for a less then half a second but its enough. So this team of a Russian spy, a super soldier, a super assassin and a god track down nazi descendants to help me get back the bones of my son. They set a trap for me not knowing i wasn't alone to some how take my immortality for themselves and become man kinds better or something, Steves eyes where rolling really hard because he was so sick of this master race crap. Some how these people got it in their head that my sons bones where the source of my power and thought they could control me or steal my power through them. They crushed up his bones into a powder all save for his skull and ingested it. Realizing what they had done i collapsed leaving the rest to fight off these stupid wanna be occultist as i had a melt down. They kept the wanna be nazis away from me until i spoke again "You took my son..." Steve was the first to notice this, the shadows moved out of sync with the people. Bucky looked nervous suddenly and the air became thick and heavy. Time seemed to slow down and my eyes glowed red, my fingers grew out long black claws and i started to look less human. Seems that my transformation was triggered by losing the one part of me that kept me human. My son, dead or not, was my humanity that kept whatever had brought me back from coming out completely. I rose from the ground floating above it roaring out in some unknown voice that i would not spare one drop of blood but also taking their souls as well. The leader of this group panicking grabbed Davids skull (my son) and tried to call power from it or control me with it, trying anything as his followers screamed around him and where pulled into the liquid like blackness that surrounded me like a tentacled monster. Steve and the others where trying to kinda protect the other nazi group members but also mostly trying to stay out of the way. I pulled the leader closer as he clawed terrified at the ground trying to save himself dropping Davids skull on the way and i leaned in super close to him and told him how much he looked like his father, the one who laughed as he gunned down sick and helpless people. This one didnt die laughing but screaming as we did years ago. Nat gets my attention calling out to me, shes holding Davids skull in her arms like you would craddle a child. She speaks calmly to me, saying its over, and David wants to go home. I let out a sad almost laughing sigh and say, he doesnt want anything, hes dead. The air gets less heavy, and i say it again that hes dead and he can never come back. This time Bucky speaks up, saying that i can still love him but i have to let him go and i dont have to be consumed by revenge any more. As they talk me down i lose my demon like appearance and float back down but still look very vampirish. I fall to my knees and cry taking the skull from Nat and she puts her arm around me and Bucky actually moves into the other side putting his new arm around me as well and holding my hand. I just cry. Steve also has the urge to comfort me but holds off and asks Thor if hes ever seen anything like that before. Thor is very silent and shakes his head no, heard stories maybe, but long ago. The dream jumps to us having a funeral for my David and a proper grave. Bucky is holding my right hand, fingers interlaced with mine, and on my left is Steve also holding my but hand palm to palm, Nat is between him and Thor holding both their hands the same way. I say he would like it here. My mannerisms seem more controlled and less manic and crazy as i was before. I say my final goodbye to David and walk away. As we walk in silence for a few minutes Nat smirks says "So Thor, how crazy was it that she stopped your hammer and waved it around like a toy?" She needles Thor leaning into him and wrapping her arm around his. Steve smirks and Bucky looks confused and looks at me wide eyed. Thor replies, "It was a desperate time, obviously Mjölnir was responding to the distress of a mother in need... there is no greater pain than a parent worried for their child." Nat and Bucky nod, saying 'obviously' and Steve offers "Well, a parent in distress would be considered worthy to wield it, to save a child, thats worthy right?" Bucky leans over, holding my hand still "Uh, not to be mean, but you technically arent really human... not any more." I nod in agreement, "Technically, undead. Technically, hes correct. The best kind of correct." Thor still looks unsure but smiles through it while Nat laughs and we all walk arm in arm or hand in hand. Still not sure if i was really a vampire or demon or just some witch thing that drank and ate blood and souls. I know Bucky had my blood and having that bond made him feel close to me because through that exchange he was able to know my life. I tasted his blood to know him when i ripped out the last of the robot arm. Still not sure how that exchange came up. He was in his tube thing, not like he was in the kitchen making a sandwich. "Hey you want to grow back your old arm by consuming my blood?" "Golly! Do i ever!" Pretty sure thats not how it went. My dreams are fun not professionally written.