#nate bramble

[just-a-dinosaur-i-guess]

nate and onji are so funny. t4t but platonically. with the help of their italian training to be a nun friend (who pretended to be a boy at a horse riding camp for like two years in a row because she was nervous and helped her boyfriend have a bisexual awakening) onji has nate's boobs now. they fight demons. nate uses dinosaur blood to do so. onji just has a giant porcelain art mannequin which reflects someone she is not whenever she looks at it too hard. bro they are teens /ref

[odyooles]

do you remember what you're meant to repent for?

[bespectacled-bookwyrm]

Ooh, a bit more stuff for my Feral N AU:

Nate, Colress and Grimsley’s son, is the first person to see N. He doesn't actually know he's a person, and tells his dads that there's 'something green and furry looking into my window'. He gets so spooked at one point that he ends up needing to sleep in his dads' room with them.

Colress notices N's presence due to his garden; the fruits and berries haven't been nibbled on like usual, instead pulled off the stems - very few Pokémon eat berries like that, and none of them live around or near the house.

Grimsley notices N because of his Pokémon. Specifically, Liepard. She's a lot more on-guard than usual, due to the close proximity of The Pack (of Zoroark), and Grimsley quickly figures out why after seeing some red fur snagged on brambles.

N eventually makes his presence known when he gathers the courage to break into their kitchen (he wanted to raid Colress' windowsill tomatoes). He simply didn't count on Ace and Alecto raising the alarm; rather, he expected them to keep quiet about his presence, instead of kicking up a fuss, due to him viewing himself as a Zoroark (generally, packs don't fight, and there are social rules with Zoroark to never reveal another's presence unless it's an emergency, a social gathering between groups, or it's a grudge match between packs), not realising that, to the little Zorua pair, he is A Stranger who has invaded their home, not A Fellow Zoroark/Zorua.

Some things will need adjusting, of course, because this is a Baby AU, but I'm liking what I've got so far.

Thoughts? :)

[dusk-army-blog]

What Befell the Ivy Tower

Think of the largest tree you've ever seen. Now, take the largest building you've heard of. Scale the tree up until it's the size of the building. This skyscraper redwood you're imagining? It's only a fraction of the Ivy Tower, a branch, a rural town hall next to the Empire State Building. The trunk is measured in miles, with a canopy of branches that eclipses the sky in twice that radius. Those branches form a network of pathways as tangled and complex as a northern state highway. The roots are the same. And make no mistake: those branches aren't just like roads, they are a road. The Ivy Tower isn't just a tree, nor is it a city; it's a megalopolis, a population center with tens of millions of citizens. And at roughly 7:00 AM on a cold October morning, it falls. In a span of fifteen minutes, millions of lives snuffed out, with maybe a dozen survivors.

Now, you might ask, "Why is Lucy speaking in the present tense? It's been two decades since the Fall." For me, it was yesterday. It will be tomorrow. It's happening now, and I'm there, trying to pick which of my friends lives. You see this eye patch? I'm not wearing it because I lost my left eye during the Fall. That's what people usually think. "Lucy lost her eye, but it coulda' been worse." Psh. I didn't lose my eye. I gave it away. In exchange, I'm always looking out of it, back to those fifteen minutes. It's still there: watching, letting me interfere, letting me decide who lives and who dies.

I'm nine. My family has an apartment in Blackberry Court, a community in the middle of the eastern canopy. I've never set foot at ground level. Dad is the preacher for the local church, and so we're up early to prepare for the day's sermon. I'm tired, but at least I'll get to play with my friends afterward. I promise that I'll be back in time, then go for a walk in the church gardens, probably about 6:45. And that's when it happens.

The branches start to twist and shake, strangling the path, making me choose one way or another. I'm terrified, scrambling to get out as the world is crushed around me. When I reach the church again, there's a girl I've never seen before, standing in front of the gate, watching me. Despite the chaos all around, she smiles, and beckons me with a pale finger. "Come, little one," she coos, "The garden is safe no longer. You'll be alright if you wait inside the church." I draw near, and realize her irises are red, like cherries. Her pupils are slits. From beneath the matted brambles of her hair, a pair of tiny horns stick up, almost unnoticeable in the tangled blackness. I stop moving.

"Who are you?" I ask.

"Why, Lucy, I'm hurt!" she says, smile never wavering, "Don't you recognize your guardian devil?" I scream, then run past her into the church, slamming the door behind me. All is silent, for a moment. Then, there is a deafening roar, and I black out.

When I wake, I am still in the church, pinned under the remains of the roof. I struggle to dig myself out, but it is useless. My vision is blurred, but it returns to normal if I close my left eye. And then I hear her laughter. I turn to the side and see the strange girl, my so-called guardian devil strolling toward me, not a scratch on her.

"What did I tell you? The church is safe!" she chuckles, "Aren't you glad you listened to me?" She sits down on a broken beam. "Still, you could have done a better job than that. You didn't even try to bring anyone with you."

"What-" I try to speak, but end up coughing up blood and dust. As soon as the fit settles, I continue, "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said, dear. Anyone in this church will survive the Fall for certain. But you only saved yourself... Such a selfish little girl." My eyes water as reality starts to set in. Everyone is gone. Mom. Dad. Nate. Vicky. Everyone. The girl leans down. "Well, I wouldn't be a good guardian if I punished you for being human, would I? So, why don't we make a deal..."

I'm twenty-nine. The government is still trying to figure out what caused the Fall. They still don't understand why I'm not dead. But they can't argue with the results that I get: if I say to check a certain part of the Ivy Tower Memorial Forest, they'll find a body there. It will be gone the next day, and somehow, everyone will remember another survivor of the tragedy, another scarred child driven to find answers. And yet, they'll also remember another victim, someone whose remains were never retrieved from that twisted copse.

I can't save them all. All I can do is watch, pick which ones get to live this week. Maybe, one day, I'll be able to tell you why the Ivy Tower is no more. And maybe, one day, I'll give that devil her eye back so I can stop living in this hell.

[josiebelladonna]

so.

i’ve been thinking about this for the past week or so, and i don’t really know how to say this without being completely and totally blunt with it as i usually am, anyway.

i’m going on hiatus again. i don’t know how long i’ll be away—it was either that or deleting, and i decided not to do away with deleting because i lose everything otherwise but i need to get away from here.

between the shitbrained updates staff keeps inflicting onto us and i really don’t know if it’s just a me thing and people on here are genuinely repulsed by me, or if there’s something happening collectively that i’m not okay with because it happened while i wasn’t paying attention but… i’m finding myself more and more pissed off by tumblr and this current generation that’s on here at the moment.

i’m so sick of everything being so detached. i’m so sick of everyone being offended rather than curious. i literally hate the word “mutual” now because of this site—it’s especially weird for me because that word didn’t exist in the first year or two i was here. we all knew who our friends were and we all addressed each other by name, we didn’t have these fucking stupid posts that are a dime a dozen watering down the whole neighborhood feel of it all. there was a joke about tumblr, back around 2011-2013, where if you an account on here, you were considered “forever alone” because you were a nerd: you shared things you loved, you were curious about things like sexuality (back when they genuinely allowed nsfw content, no less), you spoke your mind no matter how caustic your opinion, and you were kind of safe here to boot. you were considered “forever alone” because you either got it or you didn’t. 

it came to a head around 2014/2015, and i started seeing a serious pushback in 2016, how closing yourself off to other experiences and new people is toxic, something i absolutely do agree with, but the thing is it immediately started to warp itself and dumb itself down, a long slow process that came to the absolute dumbest conclusion of “mutuals”, whatever the fuck that’s even supposed to signify. it’s such a vague term, like what the hell is it even supposed to mean? what degree of companionship are we talking about here? someone clarify this for me.

“they’re not my friends! they’re my mutuals!” i consider teababe on here and brambles on instagram as my friends and not once do i have to refer to them as that. bro, i remember following people on here and we became facebook friends: i remember people on here genuinely meeting up with each other and sending each other things—like actually sending things, making gifts and mailing it to them. i never see that anymore: i could not tell you the last time i saw that. nate peck and eric peterson are my mutuals on ig but i don’t feel comfortable calling them that, especially nate, because quite frankly, i value them more than that.

plus, it was coupled with that fucking election cycle: everything became political almost overnight. with the blatant politics everywhere you turned and people complaining about every little thing comes lack of finesse. with lack of finesse or subtlety comes lack of imagination. things started to get dumbed down really quickly and it was getting on my nerves just as quick.

i wasn’t here for all of 2017 and most of 2018, but i could only assume that those old bloggers just moved on or they too went quiet and their posts started going quiet as well, going down into the tags to the point of being buried. you get new blood in there who grew up watching tumblr from the sidelines and they don’t know what to do with it, especially once the nsfw ban came about.

so gone are the days of being calm and collected and civil about things, and now you have so many bloggers who are just not interested in culture, or don’t even seem to understand or care how tumblr is supposed to work. in hindsight, i should have realized that things were quite different on here than they were in 2013 when i saw the green druidess complaining about some bad review with the line “community? what community?” i remember she showed it to me, too: the way it sits in my memory was it almost felt like a parody, like the person was just fooling around (kind of like what i do) and just trying to get a rise. i remember actually saying, “oh my god, i really hope this is just a joke. it looks like a joke.” but i remember telling her that if something does offend you that much, say something (and boy, did that get warped or what). but that’s kind of how it was back then: we knew about shit going on but we knew how to have good fun from time to time even if it was inflammatory because the world does indeed suck. i remember thinking that 2013 was the worst year ever, and then 2015 was, and then 2016, and then 2017 happened and you realize that i quit doing that shit. 

yes, even in 2020, i never said that once, because you learn to laugh at your pain. you learn to laugh at a world that’s been going straight to hell for the last 20 years, because… look at it, it does seem genuinely ridiculous at times.

the first half of the 2010s, when i showed up here as a scrappy troubled 20-year-old bouncing around stem school and into a community college, was quite literally the best time to be on here. when i came back from that 2 year vacation, i had a sense that things were different, especially when i started seeing less art and nsfw content (this was right before the ban, too, like a few months before), and i had to dig around for smutty fanfic. 2019 came along with the green druidess and her “raunchy side” and i feel like that was the “…oh, dear” moment. the moment i realized that tumblr is not what it was 5, 6 years before, and you’re having to make a disclaimer for your own sexuality now—not good for someone like me who constantly grapples with that part of life, and especially over that summer, too. don’t get me wrong: 2019 was a fun year from what i remember, but it gave me a bad feeling.

the pandemic happened… we all know what happened there. three years later, looking at my thirties, and i’m back at square one and wanting a place where i can really be myself. a place that was like tumblr circa 2013 or 2014, even though that time is history now. instagram, for what it’s worth, has done wonders for me, but there’s a reason why those of us who had witnessed it remember it so fondly.

don’t get me wrong: there was a ton of shit back then—and i mean, a lot of shit—but given the choice, i will gladly take that era again over whatever trash this current era of tumblr is. that era was just a lot more entertaining and fun to think about. people didn’t gloss over everything, calling their perfectly natural sexuality their “raunchy/wild side” or be vague about someone or something to the point of sounding so fake and corny: that’s the thing, i could probably forgive her corniness if she wasn’t so damn fake and glossed over shit. if she was actually being real, she’d use words like “anxiety” or go into her past in more elaborate detail, but instead glosses it over with running from a past demon and “being real” whatever the fuck that’s supposed to quantify. 

and it’s a problem i see all too often on here now, people being too afraid to address each other by name—their real name, too, not just their handle—and go absolutely batshit with the block button for anything that they don’t like, sealing themselves off from anything that can challenge them or help them grow. and as a result, people on here almost don’t even seem human anymore, just a bunch of robots spewing out generalities and i get nothing out of it. this shit started going sideways a long time ago and it was only a matter of time before the whole echo chamber phenomenon started catching up with us and cemented by something like tiktok.

thing is, i’m usually in a really good mood during the day—and i’m in an even better mood when alex is involved—but it goes away once i get on tumblr now. it wasn’t always like this, either: i used to look forward to coming onto here. now, i actually worry about posting a smut fic or a drawing on here because it’ll either get bupkiss or someone is going to claim that i’m somehow not real because they failed to get to know me and instead relegated me to the level of ~mutual~

one place i’m thinking of going to is dreamwidth because like ao3, it’s made for creatives by creatives. another is fetlife, given i’m trying to feel better about my kinks without worrying about someone complaining about the mature label on a drawing i made or a chapter i wrote: i’m also not hot enough for onlyfans. yeah, don’t get me started on how my face has been treated on here: i was never tagged to post selfies whereas all of you were with the claim that “we’re all beautiful!”, and when i did post a pic, most of you ran for the hills. thanks for joining me in my feeling good, you ugly boring hypocritical fucks.

my other option is to just stay with instagram and ao3. no need to start something new when i can utilize what i already have. as for now, that’s just what i have: my ig is badmotorartist and my ao3 is josiebelladonna. i’ll hang out on the side blogs, too, my art blog (badgalnirvhannah), the fever in fever out blog, and my healing blog (theghostandthehealer), although… if i’m being honest, healing, a natural process, has almost become the poor man’s blogging, like no one seems to realize that you start a healing journal for a reason—i started that blog because the snow back in february was starting to get to me and i knew there were other people in my position (plus, you have people in new york and the northeast feeling down about the lack of snow they got this winter, the reverse effect)—not because you think it’s cool or aesthetic. 

more testament fans are out there and this is where the “I don’t know if this is just a ‘me’ thing” mindset comes in. for example, type o has gotten hella popular the last few years, and the anthrax tag has grown a lot since the green druidess and i were at it. you would think it’s happening with testament but… not really. i see more metallica fics repeating the same lore over and over again (i was observing this last night, too: not a single “jameson” or st. anger era fic mentions devin townsend, either, and i don’t know if that’s a good thing or utterly pathetic) but love for these five men is minuscule at best.

and *grits teeth* don’t get me started on ai. i feel like i’ve said everything i needed to say about it because i know i’m just going to be repeating myself, and i doubt people will listen, either, because what i have to say is not punchy enough. who cares if it’s for the greater good, it has to look and sound good. what more can i say about this and that’s not going into the pervasive discouragement and feeling of worthlessness that i think i’m always going to feel but… i’m not even touching that.

something told me i was going to have to leave tumblr at some point, but when was another question. and i think i just found my “when”. maybe somewhere down the line, i can figure out how to archive this thing because i’ve been here almost a decade now: i don’t want to lose everything.

again, i don’t know how long i’m going to be away from here, but i can’t be here anymore—by the way, if there’s an uptick in fics on here, i’m not at all going to be surprised, because that literally happened when i went quiet for those two years, and it sort of happened again when i threatened to leave back in 2020. i get it: i just am not likable. why do you think i struggled with self-love for as long as i did.

you know what will surprise me is people missing me on here. like, seriously: i will be surprised if someone straight up tells me they miss seeing me on here, given the damage i’ve done.

a new chapter of as the seasons grey is dropping some time tonight, i’m gonna keep updating my fics, and i quite literally promised alex a handful of trio drawings, too 😅. i’m a culture person: i want to live and learn and explore the world. i’m also a very earthy person, very sensual and very emotional and very sentimental and i hate how we all treat each other.

[banditnate]

Bramble Rose uses basically her entire body to push a mug full of chamomile and blueberry tea. Yes, it took entirely too long for her to haul said mug from the Jolly Rodger while the pirates were asleep and yes she hated every second of it. This is what she gets for starting to care about too many Giants… But Nate clearly has the shivers and it is making her chest twist up in ways she hates more.

“Will you just drink the damn thing, please? You’ve been shaking all night and the last thing you need is a fever, Foxglove.”

Bandit taps his foot rhythmically against an overgrown tree root from his spot on the ground, anything to distract himself from the pulsing pain in the side of his neck. He really should be showing more appreciation for her kindness. Bramble has done more for him today alone than his father did for the entirety of his youth, and she isn't even obligated by blood or birth. And yet, for some reason, her face is twisted with worry. It makes his insides feel tangled in a way he can't describe. He doesn't like it.

"...I'm fine."

She looks unconvinced.

Bandit grunts and he pushes himself up a little straighter to prove it, letting out a hiss when he puts pressure on his torn-up hand. If any of these injuries even remotely mess him up for the next Battle, he WILL hunt Carrion down the next time he sees her. That much is for certain. He'll just catch her by surprise, where there aren't any trees, or vines, or .... blood .... or.... teeth, or--

A wave of nausea washes over him, and he swallows down a rush of hot bile with a cough.

--Okay, so maybe his revenge plan will have to wait.

"Really, it's not bad," he says, looking up at her. "I've had worse." It doesn't reassure her as it's intended. In fact, he thinks Bramble might even look more concerned.

With a sigh, Bandit leans over and grabs the offered mug. It looks like it's made from blown glass. He traces the design with his fingertips, relishing silently at the warmth permeating his palms and the smooth texture beneath his skin.

The boy lets out a deep breath before taking a slow drink of the tea, then another, tension falling gradually from his shoulders with each passing sip. The two of them share a short, soothing silence, until he's the one to break it:

"Thanks, Bram." He shoots her a small, pained smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I guess I needed that after all."

[the-haunted-office]

Nate made his way out of the doors of Thursdays office, he had heard many rumours of what now lay outside her office and he just knew he had to check it out himself. He was ready, he had his rucksack packed with a camera, books on paranormal entities, a compass and a Swiss Army knife. He was sure he was going to prove to everyone the existence of something that day as he proudly marched out of the office @theurbexparable

Nate may have thought he was prepared to explore the post-apocalyptic realm of Fictional Earth, the world that lay beyond the walls of the Haunted Office, but he was unfortunately sorely unprepared. His camera, books, compass, and swiss army knife may have been useful to him in a normal setting back in his own life, but here was a totally different story.

Outside lay in wait an entirely new world full of entirely unknown things - some of which Nate would surely encounter.

He had better hope that swiss army knife could defend him against the horrors.

Upon exiting the office, there are the following things that can be readily seen:

The ground, most of which is covered in a mixture of dirty and varying lengths of grass of varying species.

Insects and a few small lizards scurrying around here and there, many of which were not evolved at the time Nate is from.

An abandoned camp. There are tents and a couple of burned out fire pits. There are no people present, but this is because this is where the slasher zombies were setting up camp waiting for the inhabitants of the Haunted Office to venture forth and become their next meals. The zombies are gone now, thanks to the Lobster Mafia.

A pile of what appears to be garbage, which is full of artifacts from the world before it ended - shoes, purses, bottlecaps, scraps of clothes, some bits of unidentifiable plastic, rocks. It looks like it has been dug through and this is because Thursday has been picking through it and collecting colorful pieces of smoothed down glass and other interesting things.

Bushes, shrubs, brambles, vines, trees; all manner of flora.

No animals. Not yet. Or at least none that can be readily seen.

In the distance, towering over even the tallest trees, are skyscraper buildings. Oddly enough, they tremble and sway in the breeze, looking at some points like they might break or topple over, but they don't. They're moving in a solid, fluid motion that's baffling to the eye. And when the wind moves just right, eerie howling sounds fill the air from all around, the sounds of the structures speaking to each other.

The sky, marred by checkered spaces filled in with ads. Thankfully the volume either appears to be on mute or broken, because there is no sound emitting from them.

Nothing else of note appears to be going on.

[rylanspratt]

“Is that what you’re teaching Matilda too? Let me know if Auntie Rylan needs to step in with any kind of advice, you know I’m always here for a coochie chat.” The girl grinned, that expression quickly disappearing as the war of blackberries was waged, finding it impossible to agree with that. “Are you fucking kidding me? Have you ever had a Blackberry Bramble? A Blackberry bourbon Smash? A Blackberry Mojito? There is literally nothing that can’t be improved by the addition of that majestic little fruit. You need to try it with more alcohol, trust me you’ll end up loving it.” Well, everything did taste better when it was mixed with some kind of hard liquor in her opinion. Crossing her arms across her chest she shook her head, she agreed that Stevie had the most amazing body, her thighs were admittedly amazing, but the issue was that wasn’t what designers were looking for when it came to sending sample size models down the runway. She didn’t get to shape the industry she was in, they shaped her, literally. “On the off chance I get knocked up, I’ll be having a very serious fucking conversation with my boyfriend, because I doubt I’ll be working at sexcapades. Don’t get me wrong I’m all for it, but I don’t think I could fuck anyone other than Nate at this point, it would just feel wrong.” She didn’t want to mention that it wasn’t financially that she would have an issue if she was to find herself in that situation, more…career and self motivation wise. As much as she complained about being a model it did at least give her a purpose. 

"as is mine, we treat the little ladies with care and respect in this house," she said, sipping at her coffee again. "it would be utterly soul crushing if someone told me my vagina smelled like anything but a vagina. she gets treated better than the offspring that came out of her." stevie shrugged, chewing on her straw again. "to each their own i guess, but mushrooms should never be slimy, whoever does that isn't cooking them the right way. you know what i detest more than any other food in the world? blackberries. horrible invention, someone needs to eradicate them," she said. "ma'am, that would be homicide and i'd like my crotch goblin to be alive and you out of prison," she said. "it won't ruin your body. i have actual curves now, versus just… a straight figure. and listen, my thighs… are the sexiest part of my body, and i wouldn't have those if i hadn't been a little slutty as a kid. but… on the off-chance you do get knocked up and completely ruin your career… you could always come work at sexcapades. you don't even need skills, you just gotta know how to use your hands at the very least. super easy job, get paid a fuck ton for fuckin' a ton, it's a win / win situation."

[poopsheet]

Comic Strip Cartoonist No.9 by Ski Suharski Comic Strip Cartoonist No.9 (Fall Issue) is a 44-page, full color, cartooning magazine featuring cartoons, interviews, and more!

[bramblevine]

The good doctor goes single panel

I’ve been spending some time retooling the format of Doctor Necromantic a bit. I want to try simplifying things down to a single panel cartoon for a while. I’ve always loved this format and I just want to play around a bit.

[snowshowerwriting]

This is bit different than what I normally write. I just wanted to write some stuff about my OC to get me out of a mini (not really lol) writer's block. This is definitely darker than my normal writing, so please heed w caution.

**TW: implied abuse, injuries

Nate's muscles ached as he caught his breath. There was an ache in his bones. New wounds had (dis)colored his skin underneath his hero suit, despite it being supposed to protect him from his enemies in field or his mentor's training. Water clung to his hair and any exposed skin, leaving him shivering quite a bit. Streams of water climbed up his legs, around him to his hand, before floating above his palms into a sphere, and around him into the air, moving into whatever he willed it to.

Even with his vision, he could make out his mentor from across their training felt. Voltage himself looked ferocious, ready to tear into the younger man the moment he could. "Don't just stand there, come on! Or do you need to go through your training again?" he challenged, his voice like a thicket of bramble, all of the thorns digging into his skin.

The skin on his arms and legs prickled with the ghosting sensations of electricity. A small whimper escaped his lips as he gulped, the collar on his throat pressing against his skin. He blinked, trying not to think about it. It always felt more suffocating if he thought about it. With his mind made up, assisted from the fear that swirled in his stomach, he took a step forwards.

It only earned him an annoyed tongue click from Voltage. "Is this what I taught you? Shaking in your boots for the villain to come and knock you out?" A snap of his finger and electricity crackled at Voltage's fingertips. The younger man could barely register himself saying "no, sir" as he took a few more steps forwards, before charging at his superior.

Nate flinched back a bit, anticipating a punch before he slid under his mentor's arm- accommodated shoes and wet, slippery grass helping him out. He quickly scrambled up, his moves bit frantic as he sent a jet of water at his opponent's back, before swiping under his feet. That attack just barely worked at Voltage swiveled around, hand barrelling through the air before making contact with the blond boy.

Nate was sent off to the side, landing on his side as he cried out in pain. The dull pain on his right arm suddenly grew to a flame, feeling just as painful as it did when he first received the cut from Voltage. He bit his lip, struggling not to groan as he held himself up on his knees and elbows, trying to recollect himself. "You just had to fall on that one, didn't you?" a snarky voice crept up, approaching him. "Is this going to be your excuse for finishing five minutes early?" Voltage scoffed, his shoes making abrupt contact with his back.

Nate cried out again, being pushed down against the ground as Voltage rested upon him with quite a bit of his weight. He squirmed around rather desperately, trying to use his strength to escape the heel digging into a bruise. With a small kick, he was lamely flipped to his back. The young sidekick hissed in pain. The weight was back on him, sticking onto his ribs as if it was embedded there.

Before the time for more feeble escape attempts came by, a sudden knock at the wall towards the training centre sounded. Both the trainer and his trainee froze, listening to the footsteps. "Voltage? Aalto?" Nate would've sighed in relief at the familiar voice of his friend, another sidekick though one much fortunate than him.

"Yes, Ember?" the older man was the one to reply, looking over somewhere. Nate couldn't tell where specifically, unable to get up when Voltage leaned more onto him. He gulped, holding back a whimper and closing his eyes, trying not to breathe in too deeply. The pressure over his ribs already hurt, he didn't want more. He couldn't handle anymore.

After a few minutes of muddled talking between the two. Voltage kicked Nate away, leaving him curled on the ground. "Get your dinner afterwards. Or not," Voltage's gruff voice was barely understandable in his own haze, curled up within himself. He could barely muster a small nod, crying in relief as he heard his mentor walk away, leaving him to recover on the floor.

[luzeliza29]

Chapter 5 of Obsidian Nate Sewell Dark Fantasy/ Adventure

The moon was full and bright against the night sky. They were only a couple of miles from the town of Chezia. All Amalia wanted to do at this point was to lay down and rest her aching muscles. The main path had diverged into the woods and the trees above them looked like darkened claws wrapped above their heads like a cage. She tightened her grip on the reigns.

Over the treetops, they saw a plume of smoke rising into the sky. The acrid smell of smoke wafted through the air. She felt a sense of apprehension creeping into her mind. She tried to shrug off her unsettling feeling. It’s probably just some nighttime traveler, setting up camp for the night. But why not just go to Chezia then, she thought.

“Do you smell it?” Nate asked.

“The smoke?” Amalia said.

Nate turned to her; his brows knit together in worry. “No.” He frowned. “Burning flesh.”

Amalia’s stomach dropped. There was only one path forward and they were going to have to go around. She wasn’t about to spend the night in the forest, not for a long while. Nor was she in the mood to meet many new people in the middle of the night.

“Can you see or hear anything?”

Nate paused and stared forward into the road before them. “It’s a little far away and the trees are obscuring anything.” He paused and cocked his ears and listened attentively. “I hear a man talking though. It sounds like he’s chanting but I can’t make out what he’s saying.”

“Okay let’s see if we can go around. I’m not about to throw myself into the middle of somebody’s nighttime cult activities.”

“Agreed.”

Amalia felt glad Nate was with her now and that he was a vampire. She felt surprised at the thought that she could feel so at ease with a vampire at her side in the middle of the night. But when she read him, she realized that he was still as much of a human inside as anybody else.

Amalia and Nate slowly edged their horses to the border of the forest and slightly into the forest. The only sound was the slight crush of fallen branches. The forest was completely still around them. They cautiously rode along the path, taking care to not make a lot of noise.

A few minutes passed when the path they had just stepped off of opened into a clearing.

“I can’t hear the chanting anymore” Nate whispered. “It just stopped.”

Amalia gulped. “We’ve got to be careful then. They can’t have noticed us, right? I was sure the trees were thick enough to conceal us.”

They rode a little deeper into the forest, and out of the corner of her eye, Amalia saw a glimpse of the clearing to her side.

The acrid smell of smoke bit at her nose. Amalia glimpsed the silhouette of a man in the middle of his back turned away from him.

The man didn’t seem to notice them. Nate was carefully watching the man, uneasiness written all over his face.

The sound of chirping insects stopped. The air went still around them, the slight nighttime breeze halting abruptly. It felt like the forest around her had suddenly pressed closer to them and it was turning its eyes towards them.

Amalia felt the amulet flare urgently underneath her cloak. She didn’t want to look over and see.

But she looked.

And saw the man staring straight at her, peering at her through the darkness. Even through the dark of the forest, she knew that he knew exactly where they were. And he watched.

For a moment.

And then he sprinted toward them, with frightening speed.

Slivers of moonlight illuminated his darkened silhouette. His hands were darkened with blood and his face, his ungodly, inhuman face made her skin crawl. His soulless eyes shone like two bright beams of light. What was his mouth, was just a crescent of streaked light across his face in an expression of deranged, joyful glee dripping with blackened blood.

She felt Nate pulling her. “Come on we’ve got to go!”

She kicked her horse at full speed. They galloped away, riding through the forest. Branches whipped her face as she rode, but she didn’t care about the pain. Nate rode slightly behind her and he saw him glance back at the thing chasing them.

The man was catching up to them. The closer he got, it seemed like his eyes shone brighter and his twisted mouth of white light seemed to stretch farther across his face. He ducked and jumped over branches and brambles with ease.

They crossed the edge of the forest and back onto the main path. Dirt and dust flew up in a flurry as they rode on the empty path towards Chezia.

“We’re getting close. I can see the town up ahead!” Nate shouted.

Amalia didn’t see anything but thank God for Nate’s vampire senses. She felt a moment of brief relief that they near the town.

She glanced behind and saw that the man had stopped in the middle of the road a couple of yards back, his empty grin now slashed across from ear to ear.

A sudden rush of cold wind brushed her face. A sudden chill crept up her spine and she felt the soft whisper of a voice curl around her ear.

“See you soon.”

Amalia and Nate looked at each other. By the worried and fearful look on his face, he had heard it too.

[arcaneraven]

Unicorns exist Felix. And they mean trouble...

Chapter one of ‘New Era.’ A wayhaven Fanfiction Series 

Dappled yellow hues filtered through the brown and green leaves that built up the canapé. The golden rays provided soft highlights to the group of four vampires that built up unit Bravo; the new family Detective Otto Tuffin found himself weaved into.

This lazy Sunday afternoon was the break from the storm Otto had dreamed about for the past three years. He lay sprawled out across a fallen log, using Nate’s thighs as a pillow listening to Felix’s hardships from his newest game. Nate occasionally interrupted to identify a bird call and provide some interesting facts.

“As I was left on 1hp the ‘din din din dun dun bleeleleleeee der der dern’ music started playing, it was just my trusty pal left, no items and my rival still had four left!!” Felix rambled, his arms wildly flapping around extenuating each word he dropped, his short curly afro bounced along with his enthusiasm. “but I still had a secret move left! So I clicked ‘last resort and-“

Crash. Branches snapped, rather trees fell, a large flock of birds, Rose-ringed parakeet (Psittacula krameria), took off immediately. Otto flinched up only moments after all the vampires paused to turn to the origin or the disturbance.

“Yeah just like that! I won.” Felix scrambled his words together before Mason and Adam paused their fighting to regroup.

“Shit… what now.” Mason groaned, he stood slouched across a nearby tree, and brushed his thick black wavy hair away from his face as he lit a cigarette. Nate scowled at him, gesturing at the trees around them with his chin, but Mason only sneered back from behind his cloud of smoke.

“We investigate.” Otto ordered.

“We call the agency.” Adam ordered.

“Detective.” Adam glared down at Otto from his 6”2 height, despite the vampire’s towering stance, muscular frame and green eyes of death, the shorter 5’9 lanky frail framed detective only glared back through his circular glasses. “Adam… it could be anything.”

“Exactly!” Adam barked; he brushed his hand through his short blonde hair only narrowing his glare. “Oh so you care about me! Didn’t know you had in you.” Otto teased a snigger now joining his narrowed gaze.

Nate sighed as he watched his boyfriend, and best friend butt heads once more. He stood up to play the role of peacekeeper once again, he stretched the muscles that had cramped up from being seated for so long and went to place a loving arm on both of his fondest companions.

“Why don’t we investigate and call the agency as we walk over, I’ll keep an eye on Otto.”

Otto rolled his grey eyes, but found himself falling into Nate’s warmth, which Nate happily accepted freeing Adam from his arm and reclaiming Otto with both of them.

“Sure you will… Why don’t you both go investigate ea-“ Mason twirled his cigar, a suggestive tone swaggered it’s way over every word he placed.

“Trust me they already did that whilst you two were fighting.” Felix chirped in, gaining a nod of approval from Mason, but the male’s approval nods came to a sudden halt. He took one urgent stride forwards, nose flared, and eyes widened.

“Mason? Are you alright?” Otto questioned, his feathered eyebrows were pinched, Mason was known to get sensory overload easily thanks to his heightened senses. It rare for him to take such interest in a certain scent however… Unless it was out of the ordinary.

“Supernatural.”

“Lets go. Now!” Otto decided, pushing Nate reluctantly back, already marching ahead. Nate scowled looking between all the party members, meeting Adam’s gaze they both shared a look of concern, for different but similar reasons, but mutually agreed it was best to follow the detective without a single spoken word.

Felix jogged on ahead, golden eyes beaming ahead. “And I was just starting to get bored! Oooo I hope it’s a unicorn.” That comment was only returned with an unamused scoff for the leader of the group, Adam.

Pushing aside brambles, stamping over abandoned beer cans, and wincing at the abundant amount of stinging nettles the Detective eventually waded his way through the dense woodland environment, until his eyes fell upon a break in the woodland’s chaos. A clearing. A new clearing. His eyes widened almost as wide as his glasses, not at the unnatural halt in fauna and flora.

But at what lay in the centre. “Nate… You said only humanoid supernatural could fall through the echo portal right.”

“Of course why?- Re gamoto!”

“corniger-equus right?” Otto finally replied after allowing his eyes to take in what he saw. Nate gave him a strong nod, the pair both exchanged excited but looks of concern as they slowly and silently approached the creature… As the other vampires caught up, Nate turned around tapping a finger to his lips before returning with the detective on their investigation.

This message was all but lost with Felix.

“A UNICORN?!” He blurted out, Adam facepalmed, whilst Mason just hissed at Felix covering his ears.

The unicorn staggered up immediately, its ears lay forwards, and it’s nostrils flared, just as quickly as the one-horned-wonder got up it collapsed to the ground in a pained whinny. The spirals leading down its horn started to sparkle, and a blast of concentrated (what Otto could only guess was magic) energy towards unit Bravo. Nate instinctively grabbed Otto crashing him to the floor using himself as a shield whilst the other vampires leapt up out the way into the dense branches.

“Lets leave and let the agency deal with this!” Adam barked, all the vampires nodded in agreement, even though Felix looked reluctant. However, not all of unit bravo was on board, their troublesome human (part harpy) detective was not having it. He shimmied his way out from under Nate’s grasp. “It’s just scared. It will only cause more damage if it’s left feeling hunted!”

“Otter it’s dangerous… but be careful” Nate calmly responded, he sook his head but didn’t leap to stop him, seeing logic in the words he spoke. If anyone was to try and calm down the animal, it would be a detective. If not for his way with animals, but he wasn’t a vampire.

As Nate gave Otto his undivided attention, as the human appeared to be walking in zigzags with his eyes close to the ground, which Nate could only guess was his attempt to mimic a grazing animal he didn’t notice as the rest of the team joined his side. He reluctantly turned to acknowledge them when something caught him off guard.

Adam was shaking. Only slightly. But his companion looked terrified.

“… Not again. How are they back…” Adam mused under his breath. Mason arched a brow. “Who?”

“The rebellion. From 800 years ago.”

[unmeiverse-nextadventures]

MAIN PLOTS STUFF PART 2

AKA the real meat plotwise. Even though I only got a good grasp on like 1/3 of it. Timeframe is last week of April to first week of August of 2033. Main fankids involved are:

Unova 

Skipper (Leon/Sonia’s daughter), Vivi (Guzma/Piers’ daughter), Gabri (Hugh/Nate’s nephew), Ben & Bramble (Rosa/Curtis’ twin sons), and Marjoram (Cilan/Trinnia’s daughter)

May involve cameos of the other fankids in Unova as well, especially the ones involved in the 2029 events.

Alola

Hoku (Hau’s son), Astra (Moon/Lillie’s daughter), and Hoshi (Sun/Gladion’s son)

Fionn and Eric also accidentally teleport to Alola for a brief period of time. At this point I’m not yet sure if they cross paths with any of the three here.

Galar

Fionn (Victor/Bede’s child), Roy (Hop/Marnie’s son), & Eric (Milo’s son)

Addison ([Avery/Klara]/Gordie’s eldest daughter), Merelle (Calem/Siebold’s youngest daughter), George, and Devin & Page play major supporting roles in the story.

Like in 2029 the Alola group are the only ones to be different in that they don’t involve an evil organization/crime group. 

Truthfully I’ve been focusing mostly on the Galar side of things but I definitely need to at least have a vague outline of events for like everything.

[lookbluesoup]

These Remain

The world was empty. And the emptiness howled. Not like wolves, deep and terrible and echoing. Not like nightmares, gruesome and skin-prickling. Emptiness howled like the vacuum of space, or the forgotten cry of a dead man. It was hoarse. It hollowed you out inside. Left you with nothing but bones, withered, ghoulish. 

For a long time there had been nothing beautiful about the world. Only a deeply buried dread which could never be suffocated. It gnawed with rotten teeth at Nate’s heart from beneath, slow but unending, eager to devour him but knowing there was no rush, because he would not fight it and he could not run, and so the end was inevitable.

Or would’ve been. Except for her. Piper came tramping up the other side of the hill, brambles snatching at her heels. The smile lighting Nate’s features at her appearance was automatic, predictable as a sunrise. She smiled back, their joy tethered to one another’s presence in much the same way of moons and planets.

Sorrow still grasped him sometimes. Enough to bring him to his knees. But she was always there to help lift him back up again. Slowly he’d come to realize that one Sacred Thing had survived the End of the World... And if Love could exist, if he could find it in himself after everything else was taken away, that’d meant other holiness must be possible to resurrect, too.

Faith. He had faith in things unseen again. He remembered beauty could endure beyond surface or circumstance. It was the second sacrament.

Warmth returned to Nate’s eyes. And then Hope. Hope which had waited patiently to be called, when every other virtue fled the earth to leave only vices behind.

All of them, because one pushy reporter saw something worthwhile when she looked in his direction. He met Piper halfway, eager for her embrace. She told him a story, tugged him to follow, smiled that smile. The creature bleeding Nate dry retreated from his chest, and for the first time in a long time he no longer felt weighed down by the absence of things. 

(Also on Ao3!)

[khadij-al-kubra]

Thomas In Wonderland (Full Fanfic) Chapter 1

Characters: Thomas (fictional), Roman, Patton, Logan, Virgil, Remy, Emile, Joan, Talyn Deceit, Nate, the Dragon Witch (i mean jabberwalkie), Possibly fan adopted shorts characters

Pairings: None (although knowing me and my love of ships, this may change)

Words: 1368

Summary: Thomas seems to have lost his inspiration, his creative drive, and in short has a seriously BAD case of writers block. Perhaps an accidental trip down the rabbit hole into a land of nonsense and madness will help him find that flighty spark he’s been looking for.

Author’s Note: Greetings guys, gals, & non-binary pals! Looks like this is going to be my first multi-chapter fanfic of the new year. This chapter is more of a prologue than anything so it won’t be as long. If you know my writing though, than future chapters are pretty much guaranteed to be MUCH longer. And as always feel free to leave a comment in the messages or reply if you have any notes or constructive critiques. I’m always open to writing advice. Also, if you would like to be in the tag list for this fanfic, feel free to message or inbox me and I shall happily and gratefully add you to the list. I’m super excited about this, and I hope you all enjoy.

Prologue

Writers block. The bane of his existence and possible the only thing that Thomas hated even more than he hated bigoted jerk faces. ...Okay he hated the latter way more, but writers block was definitely up there on the list, right behind mucky Florida heat and cold pizza. His current bout of creative block however was making its way up that list.

“Come on brain...think of things. Come on brain, be so smart,” Thomas mumbled to himself, disappointed he couldn’t even come up with something more original than a borrowed line from that Lin-Manuel Miranda vine.

He certainly felt like the embodiment of it though.

He had been sitting at the table in his living room for the past two hours. His laptop was opened to a mockingly blank page, a lined yellow notepad next to it covered in scratched out bad ideas, crumpled papers were scattered around him, and his Steven Universe mug half emptied of coffee that was cold by now. To add insult to injury, it was an actually nice crisp yet sunshiny autumn day and Thomas could only sit inside as the beauty of it mocked him from the other side of his living room window. The jerk!

He would’ve loved nothing more than to go for a walk outside or visit his friends, but sadly Thomas had a new script to write. Normally he and Joan were pretty good about keeping on top of schedules and they’d even gotten the last two scripted videos out in pretty good amounts of time. Which hopefully made up for that six month dry spell they both swore never to speak of again. However, Joan reminded him that a new scripted video was due soon and Thomas for the life of him just COULD NOT seem to come up with any new or exciting story ideas! It was like his creativity was wandering around a blank page desert and the oasis of is imagination had dried up.

“Say, that could make for a neat Sanders Sides video,” Thomas mused to himself perking up...only to deflate back down after realizing they didn’t have the budget for that kind of a green screen effect. “Besides, the sides never debate outside of my living room and moving them to a location outside of my house wouldn’t make any sense.”

Thomas groaned and plonked his forehead onto the wooden coffee table. Making videos and writing scripts used to be so much fun. Until it started being his job more than a passion. It’s not like he didn’t know what he was signing up for. He wanted this, and he knew he was luckier than most that he got to get paid for creating art and doing what he loved. Not that he and his team did it for the money. Except lately creating felt more like a chore. Not something eh wanted to do but like something he had to do. Like dusting, which was his least favorite chore. Creating felt like a chore! But he couldn’t let Joan or Camden or his wonderful famders down. So he needed to come up with something good...Thomas just wish he could feel that rush of wondrous joy and colorful excitement about his work again. He missed coming up with ideas that were so out there yet he felt a surge of pride every time they worked. Lately all his ideas felt, well, like looking at a faded rainbow. Which was sad as both and artist and a gay man...But deadlines were deadlines and he had to create something to post for the next video.

“That is if i could come up with something period!” Thomas sighed. “Maybe i need a break. Just five to ten minutes of something fun to get the ol’ juices flowing again. Something exciting...”

He looked at the very cold coffee with a pouted lip. Or maybe I just need a boost from my favorite caffeinated drug, he thought. With that decided Thomas picked up the mug and got up to go to the kitchen. Before he even reached the entryway however, a flash of purple in the corner of his eye stopped him. It was from outside. Curious, Thomas went over to the window to peer outside, hoping to see what that thing was. Maybe it was a pretty hummingbird or something, he mused, on its way flying south for the winter. He squinted as he saw the bushes across his yard tremble and this time he caught the flash of purple as it popped our from the foliage.

Only it wasn’t a hummingbird. It was a rabbit: A black rabbit wearing a velvet purple waistcoat. Thomas did a double take. he rubbed at his tired eyes to be sure he wasn’t just seeing things after staring at a blank screen for so long. Nope. It was really there. And if that weren’t jaw drop worth enough, now the black rabbit was taking out a silver pocket watch from his waistcoat pocket.

“Well that’s not something you see every day.”

Too curious to pass seeing this delightful oddity up close, Thomas quickly set down his mug, pulled his jacket over his favorite faded circle shirt and slipped his sneakers on. He was out the door and across faster than you could say Jeemanetty. When he was a few feet away from the rabbit, who was paying more attention to his pocket watch, Thomas slowed down to a tip toe so as not to scare the rabbit off. As he got closer Thomas saw that there was an elegant storm cloud design engraved on the back of the watch. What a cute little fella, Thomas thought to himself. But where did he come from? How did he get a fancy watch and threads like that? Should I call animal control though? As he was debating this, something even weirder happened.

“Ah geeze,” said the Black Rabbit. “I am so late! He’s gonna have my ears and whiskers for this, along with the rest of my head.”

Thomas literally felt his jaw drop and his eyes bug out near cartoon level.

“You can TALK!?” Thomas shouted.

The Black Rabbit jumped at this voice. The silver watch shook in his trembling hands, the poor thing. He hadn’t meant to frighten the little guy. It’s just a talking black rabbit wasn’t something you saw every day, not even in the Bermuda Triangle of America that is Florida.

“It’s okay little guy,” Thomas said, hands held out carefully. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I just wanna talk.”

The Black Rabbit anxiously looked from Thomas to his watch and then back again.

“No time to talk,” he said. “I’mlateI’mLATEI’MLATE!!!”

And then quick as a lightning strike the Black Rabbit dashed into the thicket of shrubbery and trees. Without thinking about it Thomas ran after him.

“Wait, I’m sorry! Come back! Maybe I can help you,” Thomas called out to the purple clad creature ahead of him.

He chased the Rabbit through brambles and bushes, across lawns and through low hanging leaves. If Thomas had taken a moment to think he would’ve realized that there was no way he could possibly catch up to a wild animal, least of all one with a waistcoat and pocket watch, which was surely proof that he was smarter than the average bunny even without the talking. He also would’ve noticed that the hole that the Black Rabbit had ducked into was much larger than a normal rabbit hole and was probably dangerous if someone were to get too close. Most of all, had Thomas slowed down for a moment to think, he would’ve realized that when he left the house in a hurry, he had forgotten to tie the laces of his sneakers that he’d slipped on.

But Thomas did none of those things. As a result, what he did do was trip on his laces just after seeing the Black Rabbit go down the whole. And because he was so close when he tripped on his laces, even if he wanted to, Thomas could not stop to think now.

All he could do was scream loudly as he fell headlong down the rabbit hole into the unknown.

Next =>

Tag List:   @altruistic-skittles @thekeytohappiness-is-you @canadian-crofters @icecoldparadise @the-pastel-peach @justisaisfine @bluebloodstains @purpleshipper @patchworkofstars @axyzel @hissesssss @beautifully-terribly @pink-and-purple-flowers @jynxlovesluck @thatsanswitch @6tick6tock6@hanramz-the-fander @azlinne @helplesscreator @thestoryofme13 @bibbidi-bobbity-booyah @accidental-sanders @moonstone-fox @smokeyrutilequartz @phlying-squirrel @madly-handsome @puns-and-patton @notveryglittery @eequalsmcscared @safesandersides @lizziepopanime @anxiously-unsatisfied-world @ab-artist @unikornavenger  @queer-human-being  @grey-lysander @asofterfan  @fangirltothefullest @tinkslittlebelle @allsortsofgeekery @fuck-my-life-i-want-food @ironwoman359 @a-valorous-choice @broadwaytheanimatedseries @sugarglider9603 @xx-fandom-potato-xx @mycatshuman @punsterterry @journalanxiety @stuck-in-a-surrealist-painting @elementalshadowwitch @fuck-my-life-i-want-food @the-psycho-pie @satanblessi @thesassiersilv101 @bat-fangirl77-fan @icantbeme71097 @chituri @dangerfishie @grade-a-trash-blog @justsomerandomhooman @romano-cheesy @llamaavocado @pinkbea09 @aliceofscarletflames @backatthebein @em-be-lievable @mephonic @impatentpending @paperghastly @ravenclawangst @iamtrashcans @loganberrysanders @icequeenoriginal @book-of-charlie @ierindoodles @thatsthat24