#It's all sketch so I don't think you would have known if it weren't for the bonus panel but

[merklins]

THIS SKETCHY COMIC WAS BROUGHT TO YOU BY this cool post FROM @cupids-cringe !!

And not only that. BUT A BONUS SKETCH TOO, ALL INCLUSIVE WITH A SIDE OF SILLY HEADCANON!

Despite how badass they each look with their chosen weapons, neither Freeman nor Loverboy can actually aim for shit!

[star-light-imagines]

Can I request a Sesshomaru and Todoroki hc. Where their s/o likes to draw, and has a sketch book filled with drawings of them?

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° this really took on a life of its own as I started writing, I stayed true to the request but did add in a touch of angst , because that's what came to mind picturing this take place.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° I hope you don't mind!

Sketches of You.

: ̗̀➛ Includes - sesshomaru x reader. shoto todoroki x reader. fluff. mutual pinning. slight angst. jealous shoto. bonus content.

: ̗̀➛ Warnings - gn! reader. slightly mean sesshomaru. annoying jaken. slight angst. cute loving moments.

: ̗̀➛ Word Count - 4,420

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧

(all art and characters are do not belong to me , credit goes to the original creators.)

Sesshomaru:

Curiosity. That's what he first started to feel towards watching you completely transfixed on the book you had in your hands. However, his intrigued stares were never granted a glimpse because when he would approach, your hands would tightly clasp the book closed.

As if you could sense when his eyes darted towards your artwork , you never failed to keep it just out of his view unknowingly adding to his ever-growing interest.

Your hands moved gracefully along the paper , as if it was dancing along the pages with the pencil held between your fingertips. Attention immersed in the lines forming in front of you , while a slight breeze annoyingly moved a strand of hair into your eyes causing you to pause.

"What is that book in your hands y/n? Is it for the school you speak of in your time?" he decides to ask while staring at you questioningly, the curiosity showing slightly on his features.

You hurriedly placed the book in your bag as he moved closer to the tree your back was now leaning against. The sketches were far too revealing of your feelings for him to see. No, if he saw these sketches he would see every emotion you had for him. You weren't ready to know if those feelings would be returned or denied.

"It's a sketchbook. Some of them are for my art class , however a majority of them are just so I can have a little piece of this era to keep with me while I'm at home." you said with a blush starting to grow pink on your cheeks.

"Hm."

He looked away from you as he looked towards the sky instead, sunlight catching his golden eyes making them almost glow. All you could picture was drawing the scene before you as soon as possible before you forgot how his silver hair blew in the slight breeze.

Annoyed. He starts to become annoyed when you had let Rin look into the sketchbook but you still went through immense effort to keep his eyes from looking at what you were creating. Why am I not allowed to see your art , do you not think of me as worthy enough to look upon it?

"Y/N! Y/N! look at these flowers I picked! Can you draw the same ones for me?" Rin had asked sweetly while placing her hands on your knees while you had been sketching.

"Of course I can." A smile effortlessly taking over your features as you speak to the girl.

"It's beyond me why you would want something useless like a drawing of a flower, child!" Jaken made his irritation known with a shrieking voice.

You start to diligently draw the flowers provided to you as you tune out the conversation.

"Oh Jaken! y/n told me that even though the flowers may wither away someday. However, if I have a drawing of the flowers then I can always keep them with me." she cooed happily.

"Don't you think so too , Lord Sesshomaru?" The little girl bubbly questioned

"Hm." was his only reply.

"That reminds me, Jaken, there's one of you and Rin together here."

You remembered suddenly as you finished the sketch of the flowers, quickly turning to the page of the drawing before anyone could see the others that plagued the pages of your sketchbook.

"WHAT! You drew me without my permission!" he screeches loudly.

Sesshomaru's irritation started to rise as the conversation grew on. Jaken's inherent gasp of wonder as Rin and him looked upon your sketchbook and the sequel of happiness she had praised upon you.

You happily gave her the sketch of the flowers she tasked you with, and she quickly was treating it as her prized possession.

"Lord Sesshomaru! Don't you want to see the drawing y/n made for me? It's so beautiful!"

"No , I don't need to set my eyes upon such trivial endeavors." It was said with such disgust that Rin had paused slightly and silence filled the air.

He had said the words out of irritation and annoyance, however you wouldn't know that.

Quickly without even sparing a glance towards the paper in Rin's tiny hands , had he stood from his spot next to the tree and left the campsite.

Leaving you with silent tears you refused to let spill in his wake.

Disappointed. He's disappointed in himself for allowing such insolent behavior. He had acted in such a childish way that he could only imagine his younger half brother would have reacted towards Kagome. He wasn't like him , he was more mature , more refined. So why is it bothering him so much anyways?

Was it because you never let him see the art inside that mysterious book?

Or was it the fact he had learned you had drawn the others in his pack and easily let them look upon your art while you still kept him at a distance ?

His thoughts plagued him as he stared at the full moon in the silence of the night.

Confused. When you had apologized the next morning while packing up the camp. There was nothing for you to apologize for which had hurt his pride more than when he acted so childish in front of you.

"Do not give apologies for something that is not needed."

There was no reply from you as a shocked expression formed on your features.

He knew he needed to atone for his behavior , however per his customs he would rather do so the right way rather than a lackluster apology, so he had to wait.

Guilty. After that night , he noticed you had stopped drawing as much as you used to. Before you had used almost every bit of your free time to draw, now it was replaced with you picking flowers with Rin or making small talk with Jaken and himself.

A few weeks had gone by since that night, and you had yet to even take out the sketchbook more than once a week much to his dismay.

Even though he never outwardly expresses it , watching you draw under the shade of the trees as Rin pranced around in the fields of flowers with Jaken at her heels brought a sense of peacefulness over him.

The furrowed eyebrows in concentration as your hands moved the pencil gracefully almost effortlessly across the sketchbook resting in your lap. A slight breeze rippling through your hair and making one strand a bit into your eyesight. Before you had moved the strand behind your ear to stop it constricting your line of view.

He knew you loved to draw and apparently had a gift for it from the praise Rin and Jaken had given you that night. He didn't want his childish words to keep you from doing something you desired to do.

He took a moment to peek at you over his shoulder , your eyes glancing at the clouds above. A slightly sad expression overtaking your facial features before you had made eye contact with him almost as if you had known his eyes were on you.

He quickly moved his eyes forward to gaze at the trail in front of him, a stoic expression while his heart hammered in his chest. This was new, he never felt this way before. He never felt the need to make someone want to smile more strongly than he did right now, and he had no idea on how to accomplish that with you.

Content. He led you aside one night to a river near the campsite. The moon light was reflecting off the water enchantingly and fireflies decided to dance along grass nearby.

"You no longer draw , how come ? Is it not something you desire to do?" he asked with a stoic expression as gold eyes made contact with e/c, filling the silence between you two.

"Oh , I just figured maybe I should take a break from it for now, plus my sketchbook is almost full so until my next trip home I'm a bit limited."

He noticed how pink dusted your cheeks before you quickly looked away. A smirk slightly formed on his lips at the sight , he liked seeing a blush form on your cheeks more than he previously would have realized.

"You apologized before for something that didn't need your apology."

"Oh, yes, that's right." you stammer out not seeing where this conversation could be heading.

"Do not do so again. If you know you aren't at fault , don't lower yourself to others' bad behavior."

You stood there stunned, not quite sure what to say before uttering a quick " Yes." when his stern eyes reached yours.

When that conversation happened you had mostly apologized in order for there to be no ill will between you two and make sure he wasn't upset at you. Never would you have imagined he would tell you twice now not to apologize for something so trivial in the long scheme of things.

"If anyone needs to apologize , it would be this Sesshomaru for the unsightly attitude I had given you. I should have told you this before now , however it is a yokai custom to come bearing gifts when asking for forgiveness."

Sesshomaru pulls out a set of what looks like custom made art tools. They were beautifully handcrafted with fine luxurious materials, more than likely yokai crafted at that.

A gasp of awe escapes your lips as your fingers gingerly gloss over each of the tools, you focus mostly on drawing but you could now expand your art to other mediums such as painting if you so desired.

Your heart had swelled to the brim with affection and happiness that spilled out in the form of tears running down your cheeks.

"Is it not to your liking." he asked, his lips forming a tight frown.

"It's beautiful." you say with what you're sure is the happiest smile you ever graced him before.

Yes , he is content with this for now.

Realization. Later that night as you two were walking back to the campsite, you ended up asking him why he had responded in such a way in the first place. When he had told you how he felt irritated about the others getting to see your art, while he felt left out and cast aside, you instantly started to feel guilt weigh down your shoulders.

"There's a reason I never let you see. It's not a good reason, but I was just embarrassed of what you would say once you saw what I draw everyday." you say while heat spreads to your cheeks.

"Why would you be embarrassed of showing this Sesshomaru?"

You quickly take the sketch book out of your bag and hand it to him before you can change your mind. He eyes you while his clawed fingers carefully open the book in his hands and you look away, embarrassed to watch his eyes linger on the sketches.

He's silent as his fingers graze the pages within , silently turning the pages every few moments after he takes in the contents of the page before.

"These are all sketches of .." he trails off in amazement, his eyes taking on a softer look than you have ever seen before.

"They are all sketches of you. yeah there's Rin or Jaken , maybe a beautiful valley every now and then , but you are what I sketch everyday. You are what I like to see most even when I'm in my era and not by your side."

That's when he realized the feelings he had towards you this whole time wasn't just ordinary feelings for a companion in his pack , or a human he had just happen to keep by his side.

He wanted to keep you by his side. He wanted to always make you smile the way he you are now with your eyes glowing and your cheeks dusted with a pink hue.

Most importantly, he couldn't be just content with you as a companion for much longer.

I never want to let y/n go.

"Y/n I desire to see everything you draw from now on."

"Of course" you reply shyly.

"You are stunningly beautiful when you blush like that. If only I had the skills you possess in order to show you as you had shown me."

Wide eyes catch the smirk dancing on his lips before he walks towards the campsite , hand still wrapped tightly around your sketchbook as he did.

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Bonus Scene:

"Sesshomaru , I've been meaning to ask this. where did you get these art tools ?"

He glanced down at you as your head rested on his shoulder, your new sketchbook on your thighs as you gracefully sketched a beautiful scene of the two of you this time under a cherry blossom tree.

A pleased smile graced his usually stoic features as his eyes became softer at the sight. "I had them specially made from a yokai craftsman in my territory, the day Jaken was left to guard you two I had gone to collect them."

You smile happily as you nuzzle your face into his shoulder more as a slight breeze whipped some strands of hair onto your face.

He reaches a clawed hand towards you elegantly , placing the strand back behind your ear taking a few seconds to pull his fingers away before smirking at the obvious heat rising to your cheeks.

»»———-　　———-««

Shoto Todoroki:

Curiosity. He started to notice you would often be sitting close to the windows in the dormitory, with all of your attention focused on the sketchbook on your lap. You would never once glance up at the environment around you, not even when one of your classmates was usually loud. His interest peaked , he couldn't help but wonder what you had been drawing for days on end.

Shoto had decided to try and take a glimpse at your artwork after watching you work dedicatedly on the page before beneath your smudge stained fingers.

The sketchbook had been slammed closed before his eyes could see the mysterious artwork hidden within, only feeding into his curiosity even more. You had given him a quick glance , making eye contact before placing the book safely in your bag.

"It's not polite to look at someone's personal belongings without permission, Todoroki."

His eyes glazed over to the bag that now held the notebook that is just out of his reach, before returning his eyes to stare directly into yours evenly almost as if stating a challenge.

"I'm just curious as to what you are drawing that has you so transfixed."

A smile makes its way to your lips.

"Ever hear that curiosity killed the cat."

You hastily made your way to your dorm room, bag in tow. The thumping of your heart was echoing in your ears as you walked. That was close, too close for comfort. If he had seen inside, he would know just how deeply of a crush you have been harboring for him since you first met him.

While he still stood there, piecing together your sentence.

Were you saying I would die for being too curious?

Content. Since the day he tried to take a glimpse of your sketchbook , you had been careful to not let him approach too closely. Making sure that if you had sensed him , you would immediately close the book in your hands. However, the curiosity he felt started to fade. Taking in the sight of you drawing so earnestly and with such dedication was art in itself.

You were enchanting , eyes focused on the pages before you. a firm grip on the sketchbook as it laid on your lap and your remaining hand danced across the paper delicately. His eyes were in a trance as he watched you from across the room , gliding along with each movement your fingers made.

A small smile graced your lips as you finished whatever art piece you had set your heart on that day, and that's when he felt it. Watching your eyebrows relax and peace settle into your face as you looked content as you placed the sketchbook bag in the safety of your bag. He noticed he no longer really needed to know what you were drawing as long as you continued to smile just like that.

Warmth filled his chest at the thought as he gazed at your retreating figure.

Yes, he's content with this.

Bitter. Shoto realizes that you are drawing in Midoriya's notebook. the feeling of ice shivered down his spine as he saw you so intently focused with that same smile he felt so content at seeing. Now being shown to his best friend in the seat next to you. Oh, so that was why you never let him see your art , it's reserved for someone else.

Midoriya had asked you a few days ago to help him redesign the sketches in his notebook. He noticed how you were always drawing in your free time and decided you would be the best person to go to for the request.

You've never taken commission work before, and even though you weren't getting paid it did feel nice having someone look at your art and see how excited they got at the results. Watching how happy Midoriya was at the sketches you had already placed made you eager to accept more requests in the future if you ever got the chance.

"Wow! y/n I can't believe how amazing your sketches are!" he says in wonder.

"Thank you, but you are really flattering me too much." you say happily as you make the finishing touches on the last drawing of a figure of midoriya doing a move he's wanting to practice.

"I really mean it y/n! This is way better than anything I've ever managed to do. What made you start drawing?"

You quickly put down your pencil as you go into thought for a moment from the sudden question.

"I guess.. it would have to be the fact that even though moments pass by so quickly, a moment I draw will stay forever encased like a photograph for me to look at whenever I want to revisit it."

"Y/N! That's beautiful." he states with slight tears forming in his eyes, while he's forcing himself to hold them back.

"Oh Todoroki! You're up early this morning, come look at y/n's art." Midoriya said excitedly as he motioned for Shoto to join them at the table you were residing at.

Your heart hammered in your chest at the thought of him finally looking at your artwork. This was finally something he could see that wouldn't immediately show how much you liked him and you were nervous about his response to your designs.

"No thank you. I heard curiosity killed the cat." he says with a stoic expression.

e/c met a heterochromia mixture of grey and blue in shock, he had refused to see the art he tried so desperately to steal a glimpse of a few weeks before. Had he really taken you seriously with your remark?, or did he just no longer care to look at what you were drawing anymore. The excitement in your heart slowly fading out, you fell silent.

You watched as midoriya continued to talk to him with a slightly shocked and worried expression, before eventually shoto had left the room leaving you alone once again with the green haired boy beside you.

Numb. The days following he had started to distance himself from you and Midoriya. Deciding to no longer eat with the two of you at lunch like before or spend free time together in the dormitory like what had been a routine for him. He now isolated himself in his room to escape the questioning looks you would give his way or the worried expressions his best friend would give him whenever he became too silent.

He didn't want to distance himself from you , but every time he saw you he remembered that the only one you allowed yourself to open up to was midoriya. He realized he would never be able to get close to you the way he was and it made him feel cold.

The cold feeling overtook him in a way that was so intense that his body and mind felt numb.

I lost y/n before I even had a chance to get them.

You had noticed how he was distancing himself and your heart ached in pain at the fact. every time you had tried to reach out, to question what could be plaguing his thoughts he would shut you out. Not only was your mind suffering from the worry , but so was the art you had tried to complete in order to relax from the stress.

The sketches of shoto that you had tried to finish the last few days have been a failure compared to your collection of artwork consisting of the one man taking over your thoughts. It was pointless to try and draw him when he won't even talk to me anymore.

A silent tear strolls down your cheek as you look up to the ceiling of your dorm.

Why do I feel so numb?

Midoriya had told me recently that my art might be able to reach people when words fail.

Taking a quick glance towards your sketchbook before you could second guess your thoughts, you grab it tightly in your hands and make your way towards his dorm room.

Surprised. The knock on his door had shaken him from his thoughts, and the sight of you as he opened his door had his stoic expression falter slightly as his eyes widened just a bit where you could notice. He obviously wasn't expecting you to be here in his doorway, Why would he when he had been actively pushing you away ? and yet here you were smiling sadly back at him in silence.

"Y/n?" he lets out a confused gasp of your name that he believed he only spoke in his mind for a moment when you took a few beats to answer.

He notices you take a breath inward before releasing it and the determined e/c orbs reach him.

"I won't know what's wrong unless you tell me."

"And I won't know how to help you unless you tell me." you continue before he can reply.

"But I can care about you, and I want to help you so stop pushing me away!"

You place the sketchbook in his hands in one rough motion as you finish your last sentence. Your gaze now directed at the ground and the tips of your ears growing red and the feeling of his eyes lingering on you in the silence that fell over you two.

Shoto looks down at the sketchbook in his hands while processing the words you had told him. he knows he was being to hard on you, he shouldn't have treated you so badly the last few days. he just couldn't force himself to watch you be with his best friend when he had just recently discovered that the feelings he's harbored for you all along would go unrequited.

He slowly opens the sketchbook prepared to see sketches of Midoriya or even just random sketches of the world through your eyes, however once the contents reach his vision he freezes. his fingers grazing the person so familiar to him on the pages before flipping through each page.

"This is .." he starts before stopping, surprised to see that every page was filled with sketches of one person.

"You. They are all sketches of you." you say a small smile placed on your lips as you hesitantly glanced up to him.

His heart filled with so much joy and awe that a few silent tears slid down his cheeks as he realized that not only did the person he had feelings for , have feelings for him as well , but that he had unintentionally hurt you more than he intended when he distanced himself.

"I was jealous." he states, suddenly making your mouth open in shock.

"What?!"

"Midoriya was able to see your artwork. It seemed like he was so much closer to you than I would ever be."

Shoto gazes turns downward towards his feet as a slight blush graces his cheeks from the revealed emotions.

You were surprised by the sudden confession and let a lighthearted laugh escape your lips from the pressure of his distance to put on your heart. He glanced at you making eye contact before you leaned into him, placing a hand on his cheek as you got closer.

"You know that cats have nine lives ? so even if they do die of curiosity they can always try again." you say before leaning to press your lips to his.

Happiness. The ice he had felt had melted and the numbness from the cold was warmed completely from your feelings that reached him through the sketches you had shown him and the kiss you have given him.

"I'm sorry for hurting you." he says softly while placing a strand of your hair behind your ear and looking deep into your eyes.

You smile brightly up at him in return.

“Promise to talk to me next time before you jump to conclusions?”

He laughs slightly as a small smile takes over the frown that graced his lips.

“Promise.”

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Bonus Scene:

“So why were you drawing in Midoriya’s notebook?” he asked while you ate dinner together in his room.

You looked at him with a bright smile excited to tell him all about how you were now wanting to start commissioning your artworks.

“He asked me to help him redesign his notebook. He told me his drawings were making his notes look too messy.” you said happily before stealing a piece of his food from his plate.

“I really wish I would have paid more attention that day.” he said with a small sigh before the smile returns as he gazes at you.

“However I don’t regret anything because somehow throughout all this , I managed to get you.”

»»———-　　———-««

A/N: Should I keep my headcanons / imagines like this or make them more simple & short?

[ageingfangirl2]

A Reason To Come Back! Shanks (OPLA) Part 2

Reader is a mermaid who washed up close to death in Luffy's village and made a home for themselves. Shanks comes back and tries to convince y/n to join his crew. Shanks x Female Reader.

Part 1

Y/N

'Then join my crew!' Shanks said in a carefree manner.

That was four months ago, you didn't quite believe Shanks would go through with his promise, so you said yes.

After that first meeting, you went back to the tavern with Shanks to meet the rest of his crew, after stopping at your house to get some dry clothes. Shanks had so many questions about mermaids just like Luffy did and you tried to answer all of them. Maybe Luffy was right about him being a good guy, he gave off the vibe of someone you could trust but wouldn't want to cross.

You were nervous meeting the rest of his crew since pirates were primarily male, but they quickly put you at ease and were amazed at just how much booze you could put away, turns out that was a pro of being a mermaid. One of the newer crew tried to hit on you and it was then you revealed apparently what Shanks suspected when he heard you laugh, and that was your ability to compel. Let's just say the rest of the crew would never let the guy live down the humiliation you put him through.

Before he went to bed Shanks told Luffy of the promise he'd made to you. At first, the boy was upset that you wouldn't be joining his crew but was happy you'd both be pirates one day.

It did feel nice to let loose, laugh and have fun around others. And Shanks kept his eye on you the whole night. Maybe returning to the sea one day might just happen for you. You sketched a rough drawing of the jolly roger you'd seen during your escape, and it turned out Shanks and his crew didn't like that crew already so were all on board to help you.

During those four months, you kept yourself busy, fishing, helping around the village and keeping an eye on Luffy. You also had started putting things aside in case Shanks kept his promise and you had to join his crew which didn't seem that bad.

Today you'd just finished swimming and were returning to your house when you saw a familiar red-haired pirate sitting on your porch.

'SHANKS!' you call out.

SHANKS

I should have known y/n wouldn't be at home. They weren't in town when we arrived so I assumed they were swimming in the cove. Other than Luffy and myself no one else had been to the cove to see her mermaid form, it was her private space.

'SHANKS!' y/n calls out.

I look up to see the red-haired girl walking up the path towards me smiling and dripping wet. It was very unusual to see someone with the same hair colour as myself but y/n explained mermaids either got the colour from their mother or father or could get a mixture of both but y/n got her mother's red hair and tail.

I stand up and embrace y/n, who hugs me back. She was a lot smaller than me, but that didn't mean you should underestimate her, 'I told you I'd come back. You get younger each time I see you.'

y/n blushes at the compliment and playfully shoves me back, 'How old do you think I am Shanks?'

My face drops, this was a trap women liked to set to trip men up, 'err I don't know maybe early twenties.'

y/n grins, 'Such a charmer, we're the same age Shanks, mermaids just age slower and appear more youthful.'

I was shocked by her answer but also relieved. I said the early twenties to not sound awful when y/n could easily pass for eighteen or nineteen. At least we wouldn't have a kid on the crew with us.

'I didn't come to ask your age y/n, I came because I have something for you.'

y/n tilts their head and their eyes widen, 'what do you have for me? How's the arm by the way? Still getting used to only having one?'

Before leaving last time I'd lost my arm rescuing Luffy. I had no regrets and would do it again. It was tough but I was slowly adapting.

'Some days are harder than others but it will take time,' I reply honestly.

I reach behind me and under my cloak pull a wrapped-up piece of black fabric before handing it to y/n. y/n slowly unwraps the fabric and gasps loudly.

'You did it Shanks...this is the jolly roger I saw...thank you...' y/n stumbles over their words, tears pricking their eyes, 'what happened?'

It warmed my heart to see her get happy and emotional staring at the flag belonging to the ship that killed her family, 'they had a lot of enemies, and my crew simply pinned them against each other until they were no more. You're free to return to the sea y/n.'

y/n puts the flag down and throws themselves at me, causing me to grunt at the sudden impact but y/n wasn't that heavy so I was able to catch her as she hugged and clung onto me, 'you kept your end up so I'll keep mine, looks like I'm joining your crew Shanks.'

I laugh and put y/n down, 'Welcome to The Red Hair Pirates. I think you'll fit in nicely.'

It turned out that y/n was already packed, ready for the day to arrive. The rest of the crew and Luffy were waiting at the tavern, so we headed down there with y/n's belongings.

'I'M GOING TO MISS YOU SO MUCH Y/N!' Luffy shouts in y/n's face as soon as we enter the tavern, but y/n simply smiles and ruffles his hair not fazed by the loudness.

'I'm going to miss you more,' y/n replies and squeezes his cheek.

I clear my throat behind them and they both look up at me, 'What about me Luffy, won't you miss me?'

Luffy grins like an idiot, 'Of course, I'll miss you Shanks, you made me want to become a pirate but how many mermaids am I going to meet in my life?'

y/n sniggers, 'and since I'm now a pirate mermaid I guess you're number two in his eyes Shanks or should I say, captain.'

I roll my eyes but embrace the situation. Things were going to be a lot more interesting with y/n on the crew.

[dragonfirerogue-writes]

Left Alone

Wednesday x Kitsune!Reader

Part One|Part Two|Part Three|Part Four|Part Five|Part Six|Part Seven

The darkness of Crackstone Crypt was the only thing keeping your friends from seeing your rolling eyes. The six of you were crammed behind the founder's resting place, hiding and waiting to surprise a certain goth.

"She's not gonna be surprised," you repeated for the n-teenth time. "We all know Wednesday hates birthday parties."

Xavier just sighs, annoyed with you. "You can leave anytime. We're just doing what friends do."

Before you can retort, the door to the crypt creaks open. While you thought it would be fun to ruin the surprise, dealing with the school elites being annoyed at you seemed more than it was worth.

Wednesday was a perceptive person. She could feel that something was off. It wasn't until she heard a cough did she know where the source was. It was quiet for only a moment before a threat from the goth triggered the surprise chorus of the birthday song.

You were the only one not singing. This was awkward enough.

"I should've known you were behind this." Wednesday glares at Thing. "What part of 'no party under penalty of death' did you not understand?"

You raised your hand. "For the record, I tried to convince them to not do this."

"And yet, you are still here."

"Hard to say no to free cake."

"And I think my cake design is pretty inspired," Xavier said. The cake was almost black with a reaper upon it holding a pink balloon.

"The balloon was my little touch." Enid seemed so proud of her addition. "Why don't you make a wish?"

The birthday girl just turns away from the group. In doing so, her eyes land on a phrase carved in the wall.

"This... This is Latin." She leans close to read it. You step forward from the group, intrigued. "Fire will rain... When I rise."

Enid looks on with confusion. "That's not really a wish..."

"Wait, that first part," you start. "It was burnt on the lawn at the end of Parents' Weekend." Wednesday nods in reply. "It can't be a coincidence..."

Ajax mourns the fact that the cake will remain uneaten. It draws everyone's attention as Wednesday runs her hand across the carved phrase. The vision hits and it throws her head back, making her fall back. Everyone gasps except you, who managed to be quick enough to catch her before the goth's head hit the stone.

Chatter erupts as your friends ask what was wrong. Your hand just goes up to silence them.

"Don't worry about it. It's something that happens." You pull Wednesday towards your body and lift her up. "I'll take her back to the dorms. You guys can enjoy the cake."

Xavier steps forward. "I can help. Lemme carry her."

"I got it, man." You weren't about to let him carry her. You knew Wednesday would rather gouge her eyes out. "Neither of us wanted to be here anyway."

With that, you exit the crypt and hope that Wednesday won't be out for too long.

Sneaking up to Ophelia Hall and into Enid's and Wednesday's dorm room was harder than it needed to be. You had to dodge other sneaking students and Ms. Thornhill. If only you had illusion powers but alas, not yet.

You did make your way up without getting noticed, at least. But, as soon as you laid Wednesday down on her bed, she woke up.

"Oh, well. At least we got outta there." You pulled a chair up as Wednesday sat up on the bed. "What was it this time?"

Dark eyes stare at you. You knew that the chance of the goth answering was slim, but you were curious. The debate could be seen in her eyes before her mouth opens.

"I saw Goody again," she began, to your surprise. "There's somewhere I have to go to find more clues, but I'm not sure where."

"Any idea of where to start?"

"There was a gate. I'll have to sketch it out and see if anyone knows of it."

"It's something at least," you state. "Was that it?"

There was a pause before Wednesday nods. She didn't need to give you every detail. With a nod, you stood up and placed the chair back where it belonged.

"Now that you're awake, I'll let you be. Hopefully the rest of your birthday isn't too annoying." You let out a chuckle. "But, while I'm here, this is for you."

You take out a box from your pocket. Wednesday hadn't noticed it despite it sticking halfway out of the pocket. She takes it cautiously before revealing a dagger within the confines of the box. Unsheathing it, Wednesday inspects the blade.

It was a spear point dagger, perfect for stabbing. The blade itself was sharp, taking no effort to draw blood from her thumb when she tested it.

"An excellent blade. A fine addition to my collection." You preen at the rare praise. "Tell anyone and I will stab you with it."

You raise your hands in surrender. "No one will know. There's enough of my blood on that anyway."

Wednesday tilts her head ever so slightly in question. "Elaborate."

"I made that blade myself. Folded bone steel quenched in my own blood," you explain. "It took me almost a year. I was making it for fun, but I figured it would be a decent gift for you, so... Yeah."

It was a personal project. It was a different way to give a part of yourself away, but you were glad that it was to Wednesday. The goth seemed to realize this and sheathed the blade carefully.

"... Thank you."

"Don't mention it. I'll see you around."

With a salute, you leave with your heart pounding. It feels like you just got that much closer to your crush.

-----+++++-----

"Guys! Get out! It's here!"

Tyler screams from the lower floor of the Gates' Mansion as the monster attacks him. Enid and Wednesday try to escape, only to be intercepted by the beast.

"The dumbwaiter! Go!"

The two scurry into the small space and shut the door, creating a barrier between them and the monster.

"What do we do, Wednesday?" Enid was scared out of her wits. "How are we gonna get outta here?" Her whines would've annoyed the goth if they weren't in such a hazardous situation.

Wednesday looks all around until her eyes land on her wrist. At the bracelet that held your favor. She takes it off just as the creature slashes at the door and holds it tight, putting all her energy into it.

The sound of whirling flames draws the attention of the beast as you appear behind it, confused.

"Wednesday? Where ar- HOLY SHIT!" Immediately you fall into a defensive stance. "Wednesday!? Are you okay!?"

"Distract it while Enid and I escape!"

"How am I supposed to- WHOA!" You barely dodge a strike from the monster. With a growl, you let your power flow through you. Claws and fangs elongate as your vulpine features begin to appear. You crouch low as your twin tails furl out behind you.

"I guess we're dancing."

While the beast was large and strong, you were deft and agile. Each swing of its claws were dodged and met with three strikes of your own. It didn't do too much, but it was enough to keep it distracted. At least until the screams of the girls drew both of your attention as the dumbwaiter barrels down its chute.

"Wednesday! Enid!"

The monster immediately moves towards the basement where the girls no doubt would've landed. You chase after it, managing to tackle it hard enough down the basement stairs. A quick glance saw Enid trying to escape and Wednesday looking at the shelves.

"What are you doing!?" You hear Enid yell.

"These are the body parts from the monster's victims."

You use all of your weight to slam into the creature before it gets to Wednesday.

"Get outta here!" You yell before getting smacked into the wall. Your distraction served as an opportunity for the monster.

A groan escapes your lips as the monster stalks towards the escaping girls. With pain shooting through your whole body, you launch yourself at the monster, sinking your claws into its back. A loud roar echoes throughout the basement as the beast reaches back, clawing at you then throwing you across the room before running away.

The only thing keeping you conscious was adrenaline and concern for your friends. That changed when you saw taillights leaving as soon as you managed to crawl out of the house. You let out a ragged scoff.

"They left me..."

Your body starts to shift fully into your fox form, knowing you would heal quicker that way. You were too weak to head back to Nevermore, but you could at least find a burrow to recover at. But the feeling of betrayal will sting for longer.

"She left me..."

-Tag List: @screechcat

[swannieluv]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖꩜ Portraits and flowers- PLATONIC Albedo and Klee x Child!Reader

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐜: 1,4k

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆!!: Slight mention of a bruise.

✦⸼࣪⸳ Part II of: Alchemy, bombs... Family?

✦⸼࣪⸳ A/N: HII!! Writing for Klee is so nice, she's just a silly ball of energy. Hope you guys like it!! Also, a friendly reminder that you're free to send whatever thoughts you have about this or my other fics on my asks <3

"Stay still."

These two words had been repeated thousands of times over the last two hours. A single command that should be simple, if it weren't terribly boring to sit in an armchair posing for so long.

"I still don't understand..." Their eyes turned to the back of the easel, which concealed Albedo's work. "Why do you want to make a portrait of me?"

"Because you're our new addition to the family; it's only fair that we have a portrait of you to put on the wall."

He wanted to present them with a painting that he would do himself. Although most of his drawings didn't make it out of the sketch phase because he always found other inspiration and left his unfinished projects lying around, Albedo was clearly making an effort for them.

For Albedo, this wasn't just a gift. It had been a few days since [Name] had joined the small family made up of Albedo, Klee and Alice; although they still hadn't had direct contact with the latter.

They were still adapting to the new reality they were living in, in the midst of a great deal of internal confusion because they couldn't remember anything about their past. That's where the idea for this gift came from, something that would make them feel embraced by him and Klee.

Albedo then returned his attention to the painting. He seemed focused, trying to capture every possible detail in his work and create the best possible representation of the person in front of him.

"It's already a great honor to have the opportunity to be painted by the 'genius' Albedo..."

They teased him in a light-hearted way. Albedo was known to many as a 'Genius'. Something in his mind said that the person who told [Name] about this title was a certain Cavalry Captain with, apparently, too much free time for his liking.

He wasn't particularly fond of being called that, thinking it was a big exaggeration on people's part. Nevertheless, he decided to join in.

"And it's a great pleasure to be able to paint the great Dodoca..." he smiled and looked at the canvas, his eyes analyzing every detail of what he had already done so that he could correct the mistakes.

"The mini terrorist will surely want a portrait if she sees it."

"Mini terrorist? New nickname for Klee, I see."

In a small family of three - or four if you count Alice - Klee was the bomb-maniac little sister. Although Albedo was the one who spent most of his time looking after the little girl, now that [Name] is here, she has been dividing her time between the two of them. Whenever Klee met [Name] along the way she would jump around and show off her new bombs, causing the two to end up in solitary confinement more than five times before even a week had passed since their arrival.

And today would probably be no exception.

"Mr. Albedo!"

Klee appeared as energetic as ever. The girl looked as if she had just returned from her adventures in Mondstadt, adventures she could only experience outside solitary confinement. In her hands was a bouquet of orange flowers: Windwheel Asters.

"I did it! I've collected all the flowers!"

Albedo stared at Klee in silence with wide eyes, his panic inside was apparent. He had agreed with the little girl to deliver the flowers after the painting was finished, not before!

But seeing Klee's sparkling eyes, he could only laugh softly and stroke her head gently. The little girl was really excited to hand over her present.

"Thank you, Klee."

As soon as Albedo's hand left her head, she ran and threw herself over them in a tight hug. Causing some of the flowers in her arms to slip, not that that was a problem at the moment.

The seat didn't have a back support, so as soon as Klee jumped, they both fell straight to the hard floor and remained there completely motionless while hugging each other.

The sound of two awkward giggles echoed around the room. The fall was funny, but a little painful for [Name]'s back.

"That was so fun!"

Klee stood up awkwardly; her backpack weighed a lot, even if she could carry it around. The contents of the backpack? A mystery, she always took the most random trinkets out of it. The only thing you could be sure of was the dozens of bombs she must hide in there every day.

"Klee picked the best flowers she could find! Just for you!" She brought the flowers close to their faces; a sweet but early surprise for [Name].

"You didn't have to..."

They prepared to get up, wiping the accumulated snow from their clothes. Their efforts were met with a gentle hand extended to them, just like the day Albedo and Klee had helped them.

"Thank you."

They accepted the support and were finally on two feet. Their sore backs would probably end up having a few bruises from the sudden impact they had suffered, but they didn't want to have to worry when they were having such a good time.

“Did Klee hurt you? I didn't intend to…” she mumbled under her breath, a hand over her mouth as the worried girl looked at them.

“I'm not hurt at all. It's okay.”

It wasn't exactly the truth, but what heartless person would say that to her? She looked so guilty right now, fearing having hurt her new friend like that.

“You could've used your vision to avoid your fall. Why haven't you done so?”

That was a reasonable question. The fact they wielded an anemo vision and weren't actively using it when needed was quite curious for him; maybe he could get the answer he was searching for. All evidence, from their vision's shape to their past clothing pointed out their origins coming from Snezhnaya.

It would start to make sense if they truly had come from the snowy nation, since they could stand the cold naturally without feeling slightly bothered by the lack of natural warmth inside his lab – unlike Klee, who would complain to no end about how her ears were “freezing” before getting her vision and becoming the walking heater she is – and their effortless pacing around the mountain, when even skilled adventurers would find the area rather hostile for exploring sometimes.

Yet, no answer would be concrete while [Name]’s memories continued to stay locked inside their mind for who knows how long. But even so, Albedo was more than willing to help them and wait for the right time when things will finally become clear.

“I don't know…” they answered with a rather puzzled look on their face. Their hands clutching to the hanging vision on their side.

“It's alright, just take your time.”

He put a hand on their shoulder, it was a reassuring action to make sure they knew he truly meant those words. Behind him was Klee, picking the flowers that fell when she jumped.

“Remember, no one's pressuring you into remembering anything”

Albedo's tone always carried a wave of gentleness with it. Years of taking care of Klee had surely improved his skills when dealing with children, she was the perfect definition of a ball of sunshine that could melt everyone's hearts.

“Yes, thank you—”

“What's this?” Klee’s question caught you two by surprise. She was standing close to the canvas, eyes exploring the painting quickly as if she was searching for something specific. Yet her facial expression showed a hint of confusion. “Oh, a drawing?”

“Yes, I'm important now so I can have one.”

They playfully stuck out their tongue to her, which she responded by leaving the flowers on a table and putting her hands on the hips with a pouting face. Of course Klee found [Name] amazing now that she was their friend, yet it didn't prevent her from feeling slightly jealous of Albedo's attention. Though it was more of a lighthearted, childish kind of jealousy.

“Right, Mr. Albe—”

He was gone.

“Oh.”

Albedo disappeared without saying a word, leaving them both alone in the lab without any kind of explanation.

“Let me see it.” [Name] ran to where Klee was, in front of the easel. Instead of a half done portrait, there was only a sketch.

Two hours, two freaking hours staying still like a porcelain doll for a sketch. It was quite infuriating, but maybe that's how artists worked? They wouldn't know.

“...”

They were so focused on their representation in the canvas that had failed to see the other two faces composing the picture. It wasn't only them; Albedo and Klee were also present in the sketch by their side. Written delicately in a small blank space was the word “family”.

“Family…"

A cozy home, big dinner, and a fireplace. Those images appeared for a second in their mind alongside the face of a familiar woman, but they couldn't remember whose face was that. It was blurred, just like everything else about their past.

"[Name]?" Klee's voice cut their thoughts. She had the flowers in her hands, ready to gift them with it.

Klee finally gave them the Windwheel Asters. A small smile on her face as she placed them carefully in [Name]’s hands. Maybe, just maybe, they were accepting it better than they thought.

“Klee wants you to be happy. Let's be siblings! I promise I won't explode you with my bombs, really!”

This time, though, the one to start the hug was [Name]. Their arms cautiously wrapped around the smaller child, afraid of hurting her somehow.

If Klee was a small flame due to her vision, [Name] would be the calm breeze to carry her with themselves. It's the very concept of siblings, right? Fighting, yet hugging by the end of it all.

“Thank you, Klee.”

[firefly--bright]

strangers.

✩‧₊˚☾

masquerade chapter one.

jean kirstein x fem!reader, regency a.u.

chapter summary ; how it all began.

chapter warning ; familial issues/abandonment, running away.

a/n ; im trying out a different writing style to match the theme of this au!! :') I don't think it's going that well, so constructive criticisms are always welcome. also lmk if I should continue in this style or just go back to my normal one!! :)

taglist ; @mrsnobodynobody @jeanscremebrulee @holding-infinity-and-a-book @happxme

☾ series masterlist ☾ main masterlist ☾ enter my taglist ☾

✩‧₊˚☾

the ackermans, despite their precedence, were kind to you. as much as they could find it in themselves to be.

their name was attached to authority and harshness; something you hadn't been a stranger to since birth, despite not being one of them yourself - a reality nobody let you forget. but then again, you wouldn't want to forget.

the late january nights were cooling on your cheeks, even as you were stationary, sat on a bench that was illuminated solely by one lantern. it would've been dangerous if you weren't cloaked, hiding your figure from the eyes of the rare strangers that crossed your view from time to time, no doubt for a smoke break, trying to escape their realities.

you didn't blame them. you were doing the same thing as well, sketching out the picture in front of you - a sleeping ginger cat. peacefully, it's belly heaved upwards, then down as it dreamt. your pencil glided across the page, trying to capture its fur. you were, by no means, exceptional. not as great as the artists you would see when you'd sneak out to go to galleries with artists that were recognized, unlike your own pieces. marked off as "anonyomous", without a home but with a creator that painted like it did have one. a home, a place to go back to.

you rub the eraser dust away with your fingers, sinking into your seat, looking back up at your subject who was peacefully unaware of your observation.

"you're here again." a voice remarks.

you know this voice. you look to your right, where it's coming from. his own figure was hiding with a thick long coat, buttoned up till the top. a brown hat covered the top of his head, furling up and away from his forehead. the apples of his cheeks were tinted pink with the cold and his ash-brown hair peeked out from under his hat. his eyes were a halo of gold with the light of the lamp above you. you smile up at him.

"interesting subject tonight." you say, looking back at the cat. he turns to look at it too, humming. he takes a seat right beside you, keeping his own sketchbook in his lap, methodically, neatly. he looks into your sketchbook.

"you've made progress without me," he says. complains, really. it's endearing and you find yourself smiling.

"it's just practice, don't worry."

he scoffs. "I'm not worried." he says, lying straight through his teeth, flipping his sketchbook open to an untouched page.

his first mark is just like him - precise and calculated. you've noticed it, through the weeks you've known him, that his first line always remains. he may go back and erase other strokes, adjust some others, but the first one remained the same, unchanging. he hesitates before drawing it, however, twisting his pencil between the fingers of his left hand before his decision, like he's marking off a territory.

it's routine. you pretend to be asleep in clothes that you're still not quite used to, watch as Mikasa lights a candle, helping Eren up from her balcony windows, making sure that she is distracted with whispered, secret conversations with the man before sneaking out, heading to have your own whispered and secret life at night. most nights it's this - meeting this stranger with honeyed eyes and cleched jaw. he spoke only when prompted to, but it was worthwhile. if you were brave enough, you'd ask for his name. but you werent, and it seemed neither was he. he must be too recognizable in this place, too hard to ignore.

he's too hard to ignore right now as well, when you sit in silence and the only sounds you hear are the gentle scrapings of hard and soft led - the stranger liked more feathery charcoal - against rough parchment paper. your shoulders keep brushing with every stroke, as they did every time. it sends warmth through your body against the cold night, but you don't mention it in words. you're not sure you can, even if you were allowed to, you couldn't dare put it into words and let it be known and tangible.

the stranger sighs. "how did you do it?" he asks. his voice fogs up the air around his mouth.

you look at him. maybe the mystery around his being is why you feel the way you do around him. maybe if you know him, you'd feel less. but how much power can a name even posses? you know everything he'd allow you to, and for now it was enough. you knew that his favourite scent was that of the lavender oil that he'd dot on his collarbone on special occasions only because his best friend had told him to. you know that he did not care much for sweets, except those that his mother rarely made for him and his company, you knew that he had a scar on his ankle after having it be broken running away from a horse as a child, too scared to brave the act of riding one. everything he'd tell you, you'd hang on to like it was your purpose.

he's your friend. the first one you had made that you did not owe anything to.

"do what?" you ask him, tilting your head to one side. his eyes trail down to your unfinished sketch.

"make it feel alive." he asks, again, as his left hand sets his lead down on his lap in favour of feeling your page. you hum in thought as he touches your drawing's fur.

"do not think over it too much. layer, keep adding until it feels right." you say. you don't have much advice to give after doing art for so long. it feels like a muscle memory and not like the power that people would try to convince you it is. it doesn't feel like something you wield to create but something that you had known since you were born.

maybe you were born with it.

he shifts in his seat and his left hand rests on the back of the bench, behind your arms. not touching you, but enough for you to know that he is persistently there, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at his obvious attempt at being a flirt - another thing you had noticed. "it never works the way you make it work."

"blind flattery will not get you far," you tell him, looking at him in his eyes, and he stares back, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

"i do not need to go far."

"clearly," you mutter.

he scoffs, falsely offended.

the night continues and so does the light banter and shared smiles.

he feels light. despite your surroundings being dark and clouded, despite there being several thousand things you should have been worrying about, he makes you feel like you are floating in the gently blowing wind.

you were a thing meant to be kept this gently. you were satisfied, greatly so, to be in his presence while doing the one thing you had truly enjoyed. a space that could not be destroyed, understanding without any transaction being made.

if only you could spend more time with him, like this, without his name, without your name, only the small differences that set you aside from everyone else. the two of you existed as mere symbols of each other, mere faces that knew and saw each other despite your last names, the people you were supposed to stand for.

--

you might've regretted spending all these late nights with the nameless stranger, considering the ungodly hour at which you had to wake up. just before the sun rises, you were required to do the same tasks that concerned your scarce colleagues. helping dry the clothes, helping make sure that everything was set for when Mikasa would eventually wake up to her own morning regrets, setting the soaps for her bath and ironing her dresses, laying out the jewellery she was to wear.

it suited her. you smoothed over her deep wine coloured dress, ridding it of any of its wrinkles, admiring how the colour would bring out her eyes that looked at you kindly under the guise of being indifferent. you'd been glad the day she found you - you were a teen, looking desperately for somewhere to belong to and you found her. crashed into her, really, because she was running away too. you still hadn't asked her what she'd been running away from, but one thing was for certain - taking a single look at her that day told you everything you needed to know - she was just like you. in the sense that she had the same, undeterred resolve of removing herself, finding escape in whatever obscurity she could find it in.

you had crashed into her, dropping the measly amount of bread in your hands on the ground on impact. it became dirtied with the heavy raindrops and mud almost immediately, and you would've berated her. you would've yelled and let out all your pent-up anger if it wasn't for the clothes she was wearing. they were wet but you could tell they were made from heavy material - a material that you had seen only important people wear. even if she tried covering the bottom half of her face with a washed-out red scarf, she looked like how she was supposed to look; the look you had decided to grow out of after running away. like a child.

scared and shivering, you led her to your meagre shelter with an arm around her shoulder, lighting up a small fire to keep her warm for the time being. you spent three days with her there. she left on the fourth day, and even though she hadn't told you about her decision to leave, you knew it would be inevitable.

what you didn't know was that she'd lead her cousin there, too. in your shelter - into the basement of an abandoned shop - the floors of which were scattered with paintbrushes and charcoals and empty tubes of paint. her family took you in and provided you of a newer, better shelter.

but you could not call it a home. it was not home. you never had one, you were sure of it.

the only drawback of this temporary... settlement, you should call it, was that you'd have to work for them. yes, the Ackermans weren't as harsh and cold as their reputation claimed, but that did not mean they were the kindest. surely a stranger could not be of the same rank as their own daughter, a fact you very well understood.

and Mikasa's spirit was as you had expected them to be after you had found her that day. she was stubborn over her softness, and made it abundantly clear that she did not wish for anyone else but you to be her handmaiden.

she is your best friend. but she is also your employer, a line you have to remember to tread lightly and carefully every day.

her drowsy voice calls you into her room from the bathing chambers.

wiping your hands on the skirt of your dress, you make your familiar way to her large room. you greet her squinting eyes with a smile, opening up the curtains to let the morning light in. the sun had made its way up into the sky as you finished your chores with its rays boring into the morning as it did every winter day. Mikasa didn't seem to appreciate it as much as you did, however, her hair unruly and unkept after tossing and turning all night.

"you'll feel less tired once you warm up a bit. i've already ran a bath for you," you tell her, and like clockwork, she lets her feet down on the ground from the bed, rubbing her wrist against her eye. she nods while doing it, letting you know that you are heard.

you strike a smile at her tired state, one that you relate to a little too well. you make your way towards her.

"here," you say, plucking up the hot cup of tea into your hands from her bedside. "this'll help you wake up. it's something new. Sir Arlert brought it for you. something about Doctor Yeager's remedy?" you say, knowing exactly what words to speak to bring her out of her dreamy state.

"Yeager?" she asks, her voice raspy. she takes the cup from your hand.

you know too well about her relations with the two boys. even if his post dubbed him to be "Sir", Armin Arlert was a man who could convince even the stoniest Ackerman to let Mikasa talk to him. even after the Yeager family was left desolate, the two boys never lost their nature, especially with Mikasa herself.

you hum at her question. "i think he called it...coffee? something along those lines. if it's bitter, I'll bring the sugar."

she takes a tentative sip and nods. "it's alright." she says. "thank you." there's a slight grimace on her face and you know what it says even if she doesn't say it; it's bitter, but it's tolerable.

Levi Ackerman wasn't as prude as people made him out to be. yes, he did have the look of a scoundrel who might've had daggers strapped into the inside of his coat, but you had wormed your way into his heart. you knew that for a fact because you had spilled milk on his cotton shirt and had, somehow, gotten away with it. all he did was mumble something under his breath, shaking his head before dabbing it away with a rag.

if it were anyone else, he would've led them to unemployment, but he didn't do so with you. he could have, it was within his right, but he didn't.

of course, you did make up for it. you went out into the darker parts of the town and purchased a small pouch of tea that helped with sleeplessness to help him ease his dark circles out. you knew of his issues with sleep, how he stayed awake into the wee hours of the night, roaming around like a ghost in his robes, reading a book that no-one knew the name of. you didn't know about what nightmares plagued him, but the tea you gave him seemed to help with that. instead of hearing his footsteps creaking on the wooden floors, you heard his sound snoring when you passed his room in the morning.

maybe it was because it was him that found you in that dingy basement along with Mikasa, helped coax you out of there, crouched infront of you and told you that you'd have a house to live in and a bed to sleep on if you follow him and Mikasa. maybe it was because he saw you grow up just like he saw his cousin grow up, from where you came to where you've reached. from wearing clothes that barely fit you, paint marks all over your face from pigment that wasn't safe for skin as sensitive as yours, to here. to clothes that you kept clean and ironed, pigments that you didnt let come near your face to prevent the rashes that you'd eventually get due to them.

you prepared his morning tea just the way he liked it, which was to say, only a dash of milk and no sugar. he wanted to taste as much tea as he could without diluting it, placing the cup on the tray along with all the other assortments.

you snuck a taste of the batter that the cook - Mr Berner - had prepared in advance as he frets over the cook of the eggs. Lord Ackerman, mikasa's stern father, deeply disliked uncooked yolks whereas Lady Ackerman disliked yolks that were solid throughout. thankfully, Kenny Ackerman bad gone hunting, and with any luck, would not be back until later in the evening. his hunting expeditions always extended to something else entirely, sometimes he'd return a little intoxicated. again, thankfully, he somehow managed not to raise any suspicions from anyone else.

"can you help with the juice if you can spare some time? Mrs Ackerman seems to be preferring it now-a-days." Mr Berner asks, turning his head to glance at you. you hum in agreement, helping the poor man by getting started on the orange juice. he has too much to do every day, with the kitchen being short staffed and new hires being dismissed due to silly mistakes that anyone in their shoes would make in their first week. Lord Ackerman had to be the cause of the hushed rumors that surrounded his family because of his last minute decisions made due to mild rage. if it weren't for his only child being on your side, you also would have met the same fate as the maid that left after not being able to remove the clothes from the rack fast enough before a thunderstorm.

in some ways, he reminded you of your own grandfather.

you finished up squeezing the juice our of the fruit as fast as you could before hurrying over to mikasa's bath, getting ready for her to get out.

luckily, she seemed more awake now as she accepted the towel being wrapped around her figure, heading to the closet.

"is there any more of that coffee?" she asks as you brush her hair.

"yes. it's kept aside just for you. was your talk with Mr. Yeager to your satisfaction last night?" you ask her, smiling at her through the mirror as she evades your eyes.

"it was. er- Mister Yeager is... nice." she says, small smile gracing her face that anyone else would've missed but you latch on to quickly.

"you might want to sleep earlier for a little while. so as to avoid suspicion," you say as she hums, playing with a string of her silky black hair. "i just miss him sometimes. after living next door to him for so long...." she reminisces.

"you got used to him?" you ask. in truth, you did not know much about the Yeager boy. all you knew was creditted to what you had gathered from over-hearing. something about his father running away, something about the legitimacy of his birth or lack thereof, something else about his brother forcing him and his mother to move to a more rural part of Paradis. what ever it may be, his life and his secrets and his stories, you hope he could find it in himself to be content. even if everything you heard was false, you knew all too well how a teen felt after being removed from their home with or against their will.

all you knew was that he made Mikasa happy. it didn't matter much to you about where he came from or how much wealth he possessed, all that mattered was that after the day was done, Mikasa could sleep with a smile on her face because of him.

Mikasa nods as an answer.

"his mother was kind to us. she'd make our favourite meals when we were tired after playing." she says, her smile more visible now. you smile back as you apply pigment to her cheeks, blending it out to be more natural, holding her cheeks in your hands after you were done. "beautiful."

she smiles and averts her eyes. "all thanks to you," she says, whispering.

you shake your head. "Lord Ackerman wants to see you." you tell her, remembering what he had asked. "seemed to be important." you say.

she sighs, getting up from her seat at the vanity. "sometimes I wish we could...live in a cottage." she says, smoothing out her dress with her hands, dusting off any stray hair or pigment. Lord Ackerman much preferred it when his family was well presented, even in the confines of their own home.

you smiled wider, indulging in her thoughts. this wasn't something new.

when you were only just getting accomadated to your living situation as a mere fifeteen year old, she'd find you, restless and preparing hot milk to rest better, trying to do the same for herself. you'd look at her with understanding, carrying two cups of milk and some cut up fruit up to her room, hiding under her covers, talking about an ideal life and why you'd like to lead it.

"I could steal some books for you from Smith's library," you tell her, and she breathes out a laugh. "and I'd steal you some good paints from Armin's parents." she says. a compelling case.

"and we'd have a cat. with a ginger coat."

"you know we can't possibly handle it,"

"two cats."

she laughs, a proper giggle this time, her hand coming up to cover her mouth with a fist. "alright. two cats."

"we'd grow catnip in our backyard."

"...I do not think that would work. as long as I get to read, I'll be alright."

Mikasa asked you to stay near the doorway of her father's study. you obliged, knowing that these 'talks' Lord Ackerman requested were more of a lecturing than anything. he prides himself in not being aggressive, but the passiveness of his voice and the looks he shoots his family over dinner for stepping out of an invisible, imaginary line prove otherwise. regardless, he doesn't raise his voice in spite of his anger or lack of it, and his presence in the house made you stand with your back pin-straight and chin bowed down. not because of the respect he so clearly demanded, but because of fear.

even now, standing right outside of his dark wooden door, his voice was nothing but a low hum, interrupted by mikasa's higher pitched voice. you could not eavesdrop even if you wanted to with the thick doors and his voice barely penetrating through them. sometimes you think that this house was built keeping in mind of this fact only - that the Ackerman family needed to keep any and all of their secrets locked up behind doors.

you played with the hem of the waistband on your skirt, digging it under your thumbnail and removing it before doing it again - a trait you had habituated since childhood. you used to do it with a silver necklace chained across the base of your neck, but now that necklace sat in a closed closet along with your other, more valuable belongings.

Mikasa steps out, opening the doors with ease, sighing after they're finally closed. you don't crowd her immediately; you know better than that. you know she needs space, so you keep your distance at a safe arm's length. but today was not like the other days this occured. no, because today, you felt it. the tension in the air, more so than usual, the back of your neck covered in light swear not due to working in the kitchen but due to being here, in this wide, cold corridor that held no windows, the air stiff.

and because, instead of asking for space, Mikasa opens her mouth to speak, as if it's a death sentence. you're sure it is.

"he has decided to marry me off."

[petitelepus]

hello! i apologize in advance for writing so much

but i hope i can get a normal matchup for twisted wonderland! i go by she/they. i’m 21 and pansexual.

traits: ENTP 6w7, leo, deadpan (i say jokes with like a straight face so people genuinely get shocked by me saying something unexpected), diligent (people have told me their first impression of me is that they think i am boring because i am somewhat of a teacher's pet), funny, perceptive (i am good at reading people and it's something that i'm proud of but also sometimes sad about. i can read when people are sad even if i haven't known them for long and it can either startle them or comfort them when i bring it to light.), thoughtful (i do things with others in mind), physically affectionate, 'sardonic and sarcastic' (my teacher's words, not mine.), creative (i have random bouts of energy that i use to make ideas. random things pop in my head every now and then and my friends whom i share them with think they are very odd but they expect it from me), eager to learn (i like to challenge myself intellectually so i come off as nerdy), "mature" (i don't like saying this because my definition of mature is probably miles different and some people would say my humor is immature but ive had people tell me that in serious situations, i show a lot of maturity), tomboy, empathetic

i have a lot of hobbies, but i get so bored i drop them every now and then– my only consistent hobbies are probably sketching, gaming, writing, running, and editing, but i also recently picked up needle felting. i like wearing and having cute things but my personality in general is very stereotypically 'masculine' so i hang out with more dudes than girls.

favorite things: psychology, typology, games, animanga, rice, heavy rock/metal

dislikes: wasabi (or anything that has a strong flavor), inconsiderate people

I match you with Malleus Draconia!

You're clever and independent, and as a Scarabia's student you can be cunning but most of all you are diligent. You take time to make decisions and in the end, it pays off well for you.

Now, you and Malleus aren't that different, which is why you two are well-suited for each other. You're both deadpan, not letting your emotions show outside, but like you said, you can read people like open books and this is how you saw how lonely Malleus really was despite his royal status.

You're a kind one, eager to get to know Malleus better, and while your friendliness may be a little weird to him at first, in the end, he appreciates that you are willing to try and get to know him. Most people fear him and he is so used to it that he never expects kindness from others.

But you weren't just another human, but a thoughtful and affectionate one. You're willing to put aside all the rumors you may have heard of him and try to start anew with him. An act that warms Malleus' heart and encourages him to open up to you.

You take your friends' comfort seriously and this includes the Fae. May God help those who talk bad about Malleus while you are at earshot because if you hear someone talking about anything that can even be considered mean, you will go and defend your friend fiercely.

You don't need to do so, Malleus is already used to people talking, but you insist that he doesn't deserve to be treated like that. Words that echoed in his mind and how cute you- Wait, cute?

As you are eager to learn, Malleus is more than happy to share his interests with you, and that includes his love for gargoyles. He may be showing you the magnificent stone statues when you suddenly look at him and smile.

"You could say these guys were the original… Rock musicians?"

You start giggling and laughing at your own joke and while Malleus may not understand it at first, your smile is all he needs to feel joy.

"Child of man, your humor amuses me and keeps me entertained but it's your smile that I treasure most."

Dayem, when did he become that smooth!?

As you are physically affectionate, and while Malleus is a little awkward, he happily accepts your affection and tries his best to return it to you because he understands that it means a lot to you.

Malleus is new to technology of any kind so when you introduce him to video games, he is in awe.

He has this naive and childish wonder in him as he watches you play and if you try to teach him, he takes a lot of glances at you, trying to see if he is playing right. You're a good teacher, patient, and kind, so even if he fails he has fun with you there by his side.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

OHBOY, let's see what I can come up with, excited to see how this AU progresses!

The Professor, man... If Charles found out that reader was his child too, one he never knew existed, and one that he lost before either of them knew about the blood they shared, he would change, and he'd probably never be the same person. He wouldn't become emotionless or bloodthirsty per se, but he isn't the man who believed in things the way he did when he'd created the X-men. He didn't lose everything, but what he had lost was far far too much for him to be unchanged by the seemingly unending guilt of it, especially after he finds the handbook they had tucked away and buried in the space between their bed and the wall, where reader had written about insecure they felt about how they were viewed, they tried their hardest to believe they weren't loved any less, I imagine reader probably looked up to all of the yan adults in some way.

On another note, if readers' mutation allowed them to turn into a were/monster-like forms of different creatures of the same/a similar genus, like canids, felines or ursids, maybe multiple families (of animal) or just one! All that is just an idea but I'd like to explore any thoughts you have!

Lamb Anon

Oooooo... I like what you're thinking, 🐑 Anon! I love doing these! Please, have a treat:🌮🌭🍕🍟

I do think Charles would be a changed man after this. He'd lost two of his students/kids, his friend lost his only son, and they lost Reader... Who, as it turned out... was his. His child. Someone who he never knew was his, and someone who never knew he was their's. And it stings, an unending, poisonous bite at his thoughts and mind, conflicting with his inner turmoil and guilt and fear. He lost them...

He should have known better.

He is aware that what he is about to, he cannot come back from. Once he's crossed this line, there is no returning to the before. But he's already paid a price, and so have his friends, his children. And they cannot pay that price again.

Taking control should have felt wrong. It should have felt awful, terrifying, villainous... It doesn't feel that way at all. If anything, he feels more powerful, more secure... like if anything else were to happen, he could actually stop it this time.

The others... they don't need much convincing, if any, over the course they're taking. He does try to help them with their nightmares, their guilt, as some of the younger students were unfortunate enough to see what had happened to their friends and their siblings... It was... horrifying.

He sometimes wishes he could forget it. To scrub it from his mind and to move on.

But if he did that... he'd forget them, and he cannot bring himself to do such a thing.

He sometimes feels like he can still hear them, or imagines they are there with them. He knows it isn't true... but he wonders, truly, what they would think of the world they made for them. What they did because of their death, would they hate them? Hate him? Or would they see it as the necessary evil it is? Because that's what it is, is it not? A hard decision left in their hands, with no better option than to take control themselves. And even if it was wrong... There is nothing he can do. They've finally achieved peace; finally made a paradise for themselves and other mutants; have fostered a new era of acceptance and care. Have they not?

He keeps a few pictures of them, on his desk. On the walls of the mansion. A few of the sketches Reader made are in the drawers by his bed, detailing the people they loved most...

He truly misses them...

Maybe one day, if they are fortunate, a mutant will come along who can contact the dead, or bring about reincarnation, or at least let them know if someone is at rest. So for now, he waits, and keeps peace amongst his friends and remaining students, his family. He has already lost one family; he will not lose another...

And he hopes, deep down, that Reader forgives him... That wherever they are, they know they were, and still are, loved...

(Who do you want to explore next, 🐑 Anon? Three down (Magneto, Beast, and the Professor), and four to go: Storm, Wolverine, Sabretooth, and Mystique... You pick who you want to explore next😊)

[yandere-collections]

Hi yes hello there, you have officially rotted my brain my guy. I just can't get the yandere small town out of my head, top teir stuff. So I had this thought, I don't know if this is something you do but, imagine with me. A serial killer darling. Like the reader just moved into this small town because they recently got a little slopy and need to lay low for a while. My question is how exactly do you think the towns people would respond? Do you think they'd fully throw themselves at the readers feet, begging, praying to be killed by them. Or do you think they'd be a bit more subtle? Cops off handedly mentioning gaps in patrols that would make a perfect time to strike, the diner siblings showing off a new knife set they got from out of town, someone who's been trying to take you away suddenly perfectly lining up with the kind of people you kill.

Sorry this so long, but believe it or not this is the short version (the brain rot my guy, what have you done to me XD) you don't have to respond to this if you don't want to, I just needed some of this out of my head

This is absolutely wonderful, thank you for sending it in! <3

The first people to find out you were on a most wanted list (in more ways than one ;)) was the sheriff, which then quickly spread to the rest of the station. An alert was sent out nation wide, showing footage of you taken from a cctv near one of your killings, followed by a composite sketch from two different witnesses. It didn't look exactly like you yet they recognized it instantly as the person who moved into town two weeks ago with only a duffel bag at your side. You hadn't known what to do, knowing it was only a matter of time before you were caught. You didn't have a plan when you fled, basically choosing a direction based on the cheapest bus ticket to a tiny city. On the way, you found the path to an even smaller town, isolated and out of the way. It didn't take long for the town to fall in love. They ignored your red flags like how you didn't talk about where you came from or how you kept buying rope and duct tape. In fact those items seemed to be on sale more often than they weren't.

The next town meeting was a long one, with everyone debating what to do, how best to keep you in town and protect you from the outside world. They also discuss how best to keep you "entertained". They end up selecting two primary categories of victims for you, willing sacrifices and heretics. They also agree they have to be subtle about their knowledge of your "hobby". They can't have you suspecting anything. So you may casually over hear the mayor talk about worried they were about someone living by themselves in the wilderness, how no one would notice if something happened to them (if you go after them, you'll find some houses locked from the outside, some not locked at all). The librarian orders books about forensic science and untraceable poisons for you to check out. The grocery store clerk tells you about the federal agent who came into town yesterday, looking for some serial killer, casually mentioning his motel room number and how the place didn't really have the best security since almost anyone could grab a copy of the keys from behind the desk.

You can kill almost anyone you please in town, the only exception being a few citizens protection like the mayor and church disciples who haven't been chosen as a sacrifice. All criminal matters are handled locally. You still have to be careful when committing crimes since the police will use that as an excuse to lock you up for a few days where only they can see you. Don't worry, you'll be pardoned by the mayor in a few days

basically this energy between the townsfolk and outsiders:

[goldyluna]

Time for another important Guardians from my AU - Your Turn To Die: Purgatory Trials!

You can read about a sketch of a story and see previous characters I drew here (part 1) and here (part 3)

There isn't a lot, as it is a fres idea and I'm still thinking about that. If you have any ideas or requast who I should draw next don't be afraid to write!

And below you can read about the characters above! (There may be spoilers... more spoilers than there are already on this drawing xD)

Joe Tazuna - I know he dies really early in the game, but this is my AU and he "lives" there xD As the Guardian, he is one of the most liked, right after Gin. He is kind and wants to make friends with everybody. He wants to help everyone, but sometimes is too clueless and don't know things. Then he usually goes for Sara, because she is so knowledgeable and his best friend. In the looks, he may be a little scary because of his wounds and horns. His wonds represent his death and horns his time as hallucinations (I know they weren't real, but either way he tormented Sara and it was included in his design as the Guardian). His wound matches with Shin's. It is not only because Shin was shot (probably), but because it is a real high probability that it is because of him that Joe died. Be it intended or not.

Kanna Kizuchi - She, as Shin, is a variable of a path we can get. Personally, I am all for logic route as it was my first, but I like both Shin and Kanna and wanted to have both of them here. Kanna, unlike other Guardians, can't move. Or more like she can't go really far away from the place she is "assigned" to, as her body is restricted by vines. The flowers make her unable to speak and usually, she can only ensure company when no other Guardian is near. It is a mystery for all the participating why her body is tied and why can't she just free herself or why won't anyone of Guardians cut the vines. When one of the people wants to free her, there always awaits a punishment for them. And it seems it hurts her?

Shin is often seen with her and others seek him in this moment as he is more content and helpful. But there is something weird about them.

Keiji Shinogi - He is known as the Guardian that looks over participants and is a guard for any unjust behaviors. Or "should" would be a better word as he often turns around or pretends to sleep when he sees some break the rules. He won't really help them, he won't tell them what to do to win or escape, but he won't punish them if he don't have to. He is one of the most scary of Guardians. Role is saying a lot, it is causing others to shiver with fear, when they hear about it. They are in a place when they fight for their lives and there is someone to always be there. His looks don't help either, as he is the one of the most spooky looking Guardians. Chains of justice and hand prints of things unseen by others.

[ladyarjuna]

"Still, I'm not sure-- Iren, what did you mean when you said that we might not all be alive?"

Iren put his head in his hands. He'd known all along that it was a distinct possibility he wasn't going back to his own body. "Think about it. We've been here for two weeks as it stands. If it was a neurohelm malfunction... Then our bodies are still back home, asleep. Now, there's been some major advances in medicine-- but thehuman body has a very strict set of needs. Three days for water. A month for food. And that's if our bodies don't atrophy to nothing. Right?"

"... Right." Rose was contemplative, as they headed back to Fort Cragg for the night.

~ ~ ~

"-- Speaking of... You mentioned neurohelm malfunctions, earlier, Iren. How much do you know about how they work?" Rose was two cups in and her eyes were already starting to slump right along with herposture. Might as well tell a bedtime story, then.

Still, Iren pondered where to begin when it came to Neurohelmets and the interface and routing. "Well, let's start with a riddle: How fast is the Sun, as Io sees her?"

One of teh people they'd rescued, Meredith-- fellow Adventurers, all of them-- was the one who hazarded a guess. "-- The speed of light? 186,000 miles per second."

"Good. That's how fast light pulses through a fiber optic cable. And if the cable were perfectly straight, and had no attenuation, we could run them across the world and communication would still be a quarter second each way," Iren said, sketching in the air with his hands. "Of course, nothing's as fast as that. The world isn't flat, light cables don't have zero attenuation and need to repeat their signal, and all signals need to reach the correct destination. This is the source of lag."

As expected, Rose had already started to doze off.

".... Then how do VRMMO's work?" Meredith asked, knotting her brow. "I'm pretty sure plugging that much lag into your brain is not a good idea."

"You're right. early VR had a lot of problems, not least of which was that they didn't hook directly into the nervous system and therefore had serious problems with motion. Neurohelms solved that part," Iren continued. "And we came up with regulations about what Neurohelms were allowed to do after.... a lot of history and safety regulations I SUPER don't want to get into right now. If it weren't for the Plagues it probably never would have been done.

"So how do we do it? We cheated."

Now, Marin Malakh, a self-admitted native to Mundus, but familiar with its magic, spoke up. "...my first thought is to imagine some kind of spatial magic. Shorten the distance between two points, somehow. But... you all didn't have breathworking as we know it, did you?"

Iren nodded. "You're absolutely correct, Marin. On all counts. There's only a few ways to cheat space 'back home'. And one of them is what's called a 'quantum router' or 'quantum tunnel'-- you convince two small pieces of the world that they are the same piece, and so long as you have the...

Iren paused. "The correct environment, and nothing comes around to ask them who they are, they don't question it. No matter how far away those pieces turn out to be. It's that 'correct environment' that's the real bastard.

"I don't know all the details myself, I never made one. But it's the foundation of modern connection." Iren paused again, letting his nerves stop jangling. He hadn't tried to recall it for weeks, and now he was being asked while drunk-- though not as drunk as all that, Flamma hath her gifts-- to recall all of it in a coherent manner, and he was always a nervous speaker. "Even then, it's lying on top of a backbone of fiber-optic cable and routers. The stuff I did work with.

".... Considering that. There should be lag, but there isn't.

"That's.

"That's very important.

"I just wish I knew how it was important."

Marin steered the conversation back around, and Iren let sier do it. "...you mentioned, before, that these 'neuro-helms' came with warnings about how to use them."

"Yes. Disconnecting them manually has a tendency to render the user..." Iren paused. With Marin being a native, and most of this explanation intended to be followed by a native, merely saying 'brain-dead' is not the right kenning. "It severs body and mind. The heart ticks, the lungs breathe, but they never wake again and waste away."

"The psyche (and aura?) removed from the anima and pneuma...." Marin paused, head low to the table a moment in thought. Iren still had trouble reading Koboldt expressions, though given he had literally spent all his life among what here would be called 'Andrax' it was likely unsurprising. "Then... wouldn't that the 'neuro-helm' is somehow transporting the psyche out of flesh and blood and breath? And removing it improperly somehow prevents its return? But that sounds like astral projection. Magic, again."

There was a long moment of silence as Iren pondered the riddle, or at least, as silent as it ever got in the inn since they'd arrived-- plenty of people streaming in and out of the place and having their own conversations filled the gap.

Finally, he said, ".... I'm going to preface this by saying that this is so far out of my expertise that I might as well reach to catch the moon in my hand."

Marin grimaced, but let Iren speak first.

"But at home it is known that the same signals we use to create the pulses of light on that fiber-optic cable are mimicked in extremely minute amounts in our bodies-- a reaction that creates what here is termed the psyche." Iren took a draw of his pearry and sighed. "So far as I know, no one has ever managed to take all those disparate signals, the maintaining of body and breath, the seat of thought and volition-- and transfer them any distance at all from the flesh.

"I can't say for sure it's impossible, but... It's far-fetched. It would require... A lot of work, and a lot of mediation, and if any of the hundreds of thousands of messages were mislaid or ruined...

"I don't want to be the entity that would have to handle those errors." The thought drove Iren to have the rest of the bottle.

Marin let out a hiss at that last sentence. "...I have my own suspicions. My own... fears.

"Your neuro-helms allowed the psyche to somehow transcend the limits of space. But the miracle has been, somehow, disrupted." Marin also pointed to the jewel on Iren's ear. "Something's also gone wrong with the Sendjewels. Again, magic that was meant to achieve locality where there was none. They still work, but they no longer transcend the limits of space.

"There's an old saying: once is bad luck, twice is worse luck, thrice means it wasn't luck at all."

Iren set down the bottle rather harder than he had originally intended. "And we already know the Webways are dead. May I have another, please?"

Marin watched Iren, carefully. "...when you invoke the Fourteen, do you ever get the sense that they're looking back at you? The gods, I mean."

Iren rubbed his face in contemplation and creeping exhaustion. For all he'd been ready to hit the road again, maybe the old Orukh had had the right of it. "... A few times. Mind you, being of Flamma means I usually have to take something suspicious to really get going."

"You're not the only one." Marin paused, pulling back, and then said-- "I should be clear: The Fourteen, and the other one, are not native to my own homeland. We don't worship them there, for the most part. But, in this... more-connected age, their influence has begun to be felt.

"I came to this land, originally, to understand them better. To figure out if I could trust them or not. But I did not expect them to notice me as it seems they have." Marin looked among the troupe as she stood, and hummed. "I am beginning to wonder whether our new friend Morriss has felt the hand of Io, as you have of Flamma, or I have of Inpew, since this began."

"... I see." Iren paused, and then snorted. "What was it that Winter Court fellow said to me?"

He imitated the tone perfectly. "'At last, sport worthy of the name!' Fine set of hounds all of us make, eh?"

"Hah!" Marin's slight opening of the mouth and pulling of the eyes was at least obvious enough. "Let's not be hasty. I still do not know if I'm the hound or the pigeon. What does it mean for California, if Io has chosen to withdraw its grace?"

Iren closed his eyes, and tried to recall what he knew about Io, just like he had with the Seedlings a scant day or two before. "Io handles space-- not just the distances, but the-- the connections... oh.

"oh dear.

"I see why you're worried even more now."

"The other option is hardly better," Marin noted.

"Ah, but at least gods can come back from the dead." Iren paused. "And while I'm wishing..."

Marin shrugs. "In the end, we still only have a few pieces of the puzzle."

"Agreed."

"If it was Io's choice, what motive?" Marin moved his hands like the arms of a scale. "If it was unwilling, who could force the hand of a god, and to what end? But in a way, it's the same question I came here to answer in the first place:

"Can I trust them?"

"Only many more lives rely on it." Iren paused, and cracked another grin. "No pressure."

"That's the spirit!" Marin nearly shouted. "And thank you for the... context. This 'California' of yours certainly sounds like an interesting place."

"I just wish I didn't have to live through all this history, you know?" Iren says, clearly making a joke.

"Ah, but once again: it beats the alternative, eh?" Marin winks.

Iren winks back. "That it does."

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

HII!! How are you :) hope you wouldn’t care if I make this request BUT… could I maybe request Any of The Creepypastas (PLATONICALLY) with a Child! Creep! Reader who has a Riliane Lucifen d'Autriche Personality?? Basically like dress like them as well and the same story ^^ So Riliane is a very Wealthy Princess who’s very selfish, whimsical, and egotistical? feel free to have fun with this!! just do whatever you’d like :) thanks!

Hello! I do not have much knowledge on this character, but I did some research and I hope this is to your liking! <333 I also tried to use some of the more popular creeps and some I've never wrote for before

Thank you so much for requesting!!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Creeps with a Riliane Lucifen d'Autriche Child!reader

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Eyeless Jack

When you arrived at the mansion almost everyone knew immediately

Even Jack, who spends his time locked away either in the medical wing or in his room

You have a very....loud personality to say the least

The first time he ever meets you, it's after you tripped in the garden and scraped your knee

With the way you were screaming one could've sworn you had your leg chopped off

Oh and don't get him started on when he tried to clean the wound

Once you had calmed down enough to actually sit still and let him fix you up, that's when you got started about how "horrid" the medical bed you were sitting on was

A princess like you deserves better than some hard, cold table with thin paper carelessly spread over the surface

Jack doesn't indulge in your snarky comments, and instead focuses on carefully placing a band aid on your knee ("It has to have unicorns!")

Whenever Jack sees you around the mansion, it is typically when he's getting some extra food

You tend to enjoy commenting on how "greasy" he looks

And occasionally he'll allow you to at least file his claws down to silence your constant begging to make him "look like a proper gentleman"

You certainly humble him, that's for sure

Ticci toby

When Toby first hears about you, he assumes it will be another situation like Sally's

Just a small child, so sad and confused as to where they are, what's happening and why it's all happening to them

Boy, was he wrong

The second you arrived you made it known that you weren't going to take nothing from nobody

He kind of respects you for that tbh, you go kid!

He tries his best to make a good impression, offering to play dolls or bake sweets

You, of course, are not up for it

"Those dolls look as if they've been burnt in a house fire and baking is servant's work."

A small piece of you is pleased that someone is actually making an effort to make you happy

Then again, everyone should be trying to make you happy

Toby tends to be the one you hang around the most

Only because he'll do practically anything if you ask nicely enough

"Tobias, go get me a blanket for my afternoon nap, pretty please"

"Well, since you said please...."

Jason the Toymaker

Jason thinks you are the sweetest little thing

He doesn't seem to see that selfish, egotistical side of you like the others do

You are a perfect little angel in his eyes

And a wonderful model

To go with your lavish lifestyle, you need new dresses quite often

And since Jason is so good at sewing, and is great with children, you tend to gravitate towards him

He senses your style so well too!

You give him a messy sketch and he executes it so perfectly

Even his suggestions are up to your standards

"I was simply loving this pattern you wanted, but instead of maroon how would you feel about gold trimmings?"

You have such a wonderful array of choices thanks to him

Of course, there are moments where you can't wear your fancy dresses (For example when you are working)

The day you got your uniform you downright refused to wear such a hideous outfit

But Jason managed to fix it up so that you at least managed to wear it

[mimzaucracks]

Silly little Oz AU

I wanted to create something silly for Spooky Season, so I did.

(Click for better quality)

Leonardo is not Dorothy. The idea is that this would be like an actual episode of the show; he'd get Wizard of Oz'd into, well, Oz, and the episode would play out like an abridged and heavily toned down version of the The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (1900). Which in turn means that the others are not the other three Turtles, either. They are, however, styled after and voiced by the other three. So, instead of saying something like "Donatello", I'll either use "Donatello-as-the-Tin-Woodman" or simply "the Tin Woodman" (which of course also applies to the other two).

The idea of the Scarecrow, the most intelligent character in the main cast in the book, speaking like Michelangelo does in the show was too funny not to implement!

I imagine the dialogue in the scene where Leonardo and Kiki meet him would go something akin to:

“I'm going to the Emerald City to find the wizard to help me back to New York.” “You suppose that wizard dude could give me some brains?" "Yeah, I'm sure he can!" "Mondo tubuloso!”

Not sure if I want Leonardo to be outed as knowing the fact that the wizard is a fraud, though...

I put Leonardo in the silver shoes from the book, since I heavily doubt anyone would've cared for fighting MGM for the rights to use the ruby slippers. On Discord while sketching, we did joke that I could put him in silver Birkenstocks or ruby Crocs. Sadly, Crocs weren't invented until 2002 😔

I debated a lot who to cast who as. Leonardo in the role of Dorothy and Raphael as the Cowardly Lion were easy enough, but which one of the other two brothers to cast as the Scarecrow and Tin Woodman? Both Michelangelo and Donatello work for either, since the book characters' main traits are intelligence and empathy respectively, but I finally settled on the casting that I did. Like mentioned above, the Scarecrow with Michelangelo's speech pattern is absolutely hilarious, but I don't think that Donatello-as-the-Tin-Woodman's hilarity should be understated, either; especially since his canon name when he was human (turtle?) was Nick Chopper, which does fit Donatello's general strategy of repairing things in the TV show by hitting or kicking machines strangely well.

While sketching, I also joked that Raphael-as-the-Cowardly-Lion looks like Raphael just finished a Cats the musical rehearsal but hadn't told anyone and just got busted sneaking back into the Lair. I also accidentally coloured him piss yellow when I coloured the flats, which I suppose is fair. Yellow is actually a colour associated with cowardice (even though the Lion wasn't actually a coward at all, but we'll set that aside).

Speaking of colouring mishaps, when colouring the Tin Woodman's base colour, I decided to look up images of tin to find a good rough match. Well, it then hit me to double check whether tin actually does rust or not. And guess what, it doesn't. Thus, I got around the problem by making his bolts, screws and joints made of iron instead. He has to rust somehow; you cannot have a Wizard of Oz "adaptation" without [Dorothy] and the Scarecrow oiling him upon meeting him.

The Toto situation was a tricky one, since TMNT isn't really known for its prevalence of dogs. The only actual noteworthy canine characters I can think of in any iteration are Rahzar and Dogpound, and as funny as it would've been for me to cast Rahzar as Toto, truth be told I had honestly forgotten him and Tokka even existed in the cartoon. I briefly considered having April be Toto (somehow), but I refused to entertain that idea even more than I already had. Instead, I got around the Toto problem by just drawing a dog (here a Scottish terrier, like how I pictured Toto in my head) and then renaming it. And thus, Kiki! And I love her.

Also, fun fact, the Scarecrow actually wore blue in the book!

[imheretoreadandpostart]

Missing

An Invader Zim grimdark fic.

WARNINGS: Missing cases of both children and adults, death of background characters i made up on the spot, gore, emetophobia, i'm basing Dib's area code somewhere in Montana (I know that's not a warning but i feel it's necessary info.), kinda short, BAD ENDING!!!!

A strong wind blows through the area as storm clouds can be seen approaching in the distant sky. It's not too often they get storms, for the surrounding trees and mountains are usually more than enough to keep them safe. That doesn't matter now, though, for Professor Membrane has yet to figure out how to control the weather, maybe someday, but not today.

Dib flinches as he's hit in the face with a missing poster as Gaz looks on wordlessly, there seems to be a concerning influx of them lately. He struggles to get it off when the wind has it so firmly pressed against his features, he does eventually free himself from the clutches of the sheet. The image of a little girl and pigtails sends a surge of... a feeling hard to describe. not strong enough to be sorrow, but a sense of sympathy with undertones of paranoia and grief. He lets out a sigh.

No amount of looking at the sidewalk beneath him on his way to the bus stop will help these feelings. The feeling of a lingering guilt. He couldn't help but notice how unusually quiet Zim has been lately... he's been more... collected, as of late. Every time Dib has confronted him about it, he was either given some lousy excuse, an outright lie or a fake plan to throw him off. He stopped falling for it after the first three times or so. He almost jumps at the sound of his sister's almost monotonous voice, laced only by the venomous dislike she holds for everyone around.

"You're plotting against Zim, aren't you."

"You don't think it's weird that Zim hasn't come out with some evil plan or scheme?? And the amount of people going missing!"

"It's probably just a serial killer or something."

"That's no better!"

"Anything's better than your paranormal claptrap. Now quiet, your voice is giving me a headache."

He lets out a defeated sigh as he steps onto the bus to be driven to another slow, soul draining school day of nihilistic lectures from the almost snake-like teacher known as Ms. Bitters. It would be unbearable if he didn't have his notebook to sketch in during said rambles of imminent death... or a nemesis to watch over.

Dib isn't exactly surprised when everyone on the bus moves as to not sit near him, nor does he make any effort to move closer to anyone. Gaz, thankfully, is kind enough to sit next to him. her focus is more on her videogame than anything else, Dib wishes he could at least read without the threat of carsickness over his shoulder, so he has no choice but to stare outside at the passing buildings and occasional tree.

Throughout the day, Dib has done nothing but watch Zim's every move. Every blink, every shift of his mauve eyes, and every student he even glanced at. This wouldn't be completely necessary if the cameras he's hidden in Zim's house weren't broken, no matter which camera Dib switched to, all the screen would ever show was static. Of course though, Dib didn't rely on cameras alone, he's been following Zim nonstop for the past two weeks. To his dismay, there was nothing too out of the ordinary.

Tonight though.. is different. He's noticed a pattern in Zim's strange schedule. Every Thursday without fail, he goes out for a while and comes back dragging grocery bags full of snacks from the nearby convenience store, probably to keep Gir's screaming at bay. The insane little robot never fails to keep both of them guessing. So after weeks of stalking and the feeling of monomania clinging to the back of his mind, Dib is finally going to take advantage of this small window of weakness.

Under the blanket of night.. and a bush outside of Zim's house. he lies in wait for Zim to leave. it's almost 11:00 at this point, he's been waiting for almost an hour, but he eventually spots Zim poking his ugly mug outside to look around. He runs off off down the road and out of sight. Dib wastes no time running to the side of the house before picking the lock to one of the windows, he jumps onto the ledge and falls on the other side, cracking one of the lenses in his glasses. At least he's in.

Nothing seems to have changed at first glance, the interior looks exactly the same, the strange decor, the monkey picture above the couch staring forward with soulless eyes. He turns to leave.. but notices something out the corner of his eye... a bloodstain near the trash can, it looks like human blood. He freezes as a chill runs through him... rather than the rush of excitement he would usually get at being right, at having evidence, he feels... horrified. Yes Zim has hurt people before... but... if he really was responsible for all those missing people.. oh odds.

Dib cautiously creeps closer to the trash can to investigate, hesitantly opening it and flinching in anticipation of the sight of human flesh.. only to find nothing, a panel of buttons with Irken words on them on the inside, two of which having arrows, one pointing up, one pointing down. It doesn't take a genius to guess what it is. He looks around before stepping into it and pressing the down button. It starts to descent rather quickly through a cylindrical shaft, surrounding him is darkness, lots of darkness and a tangled mess of wires, tubes, and cords only illuminated by the lights on the almost claustrophobic elevator.

The further down he descends, the more his heart sinks in fear. He soon reaches his destination... wherever it is. The constant whirring and beeping of the surrounding machinery does nothing to calm his wild thoughts and active imagination. He wanders around, looking everywhere he can for something out of place... though he didn't have to wander for long. He comes across some kind of work room? research facility? It certainly looks the part. This raises so many questions... but he stops in his tracks when he comes face to face... with one of the missing persons. A girl presumably somewhere in her teens... lying on a table with an open ribcage and her organs placed around her. Dib lets out a small squeak of horror at the sight of the poor girl, unable to say anything.

Blood drips on the metal floor, the sickly scent of rot hitting his sinuses. The dissected victim laying lifeless in the early stages of rot. Looking around, he finds multiple others of the missing people, including the little girl with pigtails. All torn apart with methodical precision, some kept in massive containers of formaldehyde, others left out for observation. Dib feels a wave of nausea as his breathing speeds up, he backs away before the burning sensation of stomach acid stings his throat, he spills his stomach on the floor, coughing and gasping only to be met with the stench of death yet again.

He gathers whatever strength he can get get up and run... only to be met with the sight of Zim standing in the doorway behind him. Dib lets out a scared gasp and backs away from the small Irken.

"Zim?...."

Zim doesn't respond.. only staring at him.

"What have you... why... why would you do this... even for you this is..."

Dib can't think of how to describe it... it's out of character, even for Zim. Five metal limbs extend from his PAK, four lift him off the ground, one holds a syringe. Though Dib has seen the robotic legs a multitude of times.. for the first time, this act intimidates him, causing him to back away further. Without warning, Zim lunges at Dib. Everything goes black.

He lets out a gasp as he snaps awake, though Dib can't move his arms, can't move his legs, his shirt and trenchcoat are missing and there's a red dotted line running down from the bottom of his sternum, to the top of his pelvis. He struggles and thrashes in his restraints, though he stops at the voice of a familiar Irken.

"Are you trying to dislocate your human-paws?"

"Listen, i-i'm sorry, i won't say a word, let me go, Zim!"

Zim only laughs, it starts out quiet but evolves into his signature villainous fits of hysterics.

"This isn't about witnesses, Dib-worm.. it's about figuring out what makes the human body... tick."

At the last word of that sentence, Zim digs a bare claw into Dib's sternum, puncturing the skin and drawing blood. He lets out a yelp in response.

"What're you... on about??"

"You and I both know that I will take over eventually.. i figured in order to be a truly good ruler, i would have to know the inner mechanics of you DISGUSTING pigbeasts. While i did accomplish that, yes, i figured one last victim would do me good. Especially since this time it's more personal than before."

Dib is speechless, he feels nothing but horror and desperation as Zim approaches him with a scalpel.

"NO! ZIM PLEASE!"

He's cut off when the scalpel pierces his skin and glides down his stomach, letting out an agonized scream as it does so. Zim pulls apart the edges of the incision and gently delves his hands into the slimy, warm, writhing mass of organs in his interior. He takes a moment to feel the movement of each organ in his three fingered hand before setting each one aside. It's not long until Dib passes out from the pain.

He never wakes up, kept in suspended animation with his chest cavity still open for Zim to look at, a reminder of victory. Though it's not long before Dib's image ends up on a missing poster like the rest of Zim's victims.. and just like the rest of them, he was never found.

[hanayori89]

Boundless

*Lake Hylia*

"Link, tell me about the Lakebed Temple." You watched the crackling of the flames as Link kindled them with more firewood. He had managed to turn the most disastrous day into such an unforgettable one. You sat cozily nestled in Lake Hylia Cavern. Link had first taken you to a whimsical looking place known as "Falbi's."

It had drawn your attention when you first entered. But with Aryn at your side, you didn't feel comfortable enough to explore. You couldn't contain your excitement when Link mentioned it being the first stop on your Lake Hylia tour.

It was a kaleidoscope of absurdly bright colors. You never saw such a decoupage of ridiculousness. At the same time, it held your eyes captive. It made you want to walk toward it. With the serene backdrop of Lake Hylia's azure waters, Falbi's was a vista of peculiarity. The owner was just as obscene.

"Link." You whispered with an apparent start in your voice. "He's missing half his shirt."

You could hear Link inhale beside you. You glanced sideways to see he was holding back a laugh. Once he composed himself, he responded," Falbi is a good person. He used to work in a circus. Now he and his partner Fyer manage the Water Top Land of Fantastication." Link caught the confusion sketched upon your features. He quickly added," A circus is a type of entertainment venue. You can see all kinds of animals. Clowns, such as Falbi, as well as other performances. " 

"We have something similar in the twilight."

Link gave you a cautious glance. You couldn't help but light up with a wide grin. "We have people dress up in costume like Zant, and then we perform his demise. And yes, someone dresses up as you."

Link started to laugh. "I think that's not quite the same as a circus. Though knowing your realm, it's probably more of a circus than we have here. Just out of curiosity, who's the actor that plays me?"

"Her name is Fisa. She has your build and hair. Minus the red eyes and pale skin."

Link stopped abruptly. "She?"

You linked your arm around his and tugged him along. "I think you need to come see it sometime to understand." Link looked at your arm intertwined with his. You immediately realized your proximity and freed your arm from his. You tried to contain the threatening onslaught of heat about to hit your cheeks. "I'm sorry." You said coolly.

What had come over you? And why had you said Link should come to your realm? As if he could. "I feel I am being very touchy today. Forgive me. This is all so new to me."

Link gave your back a supportive rub. "It was a hard day for you. It's ok. If I could come to your realm, I would." He seemed to take notice of something on your back, wincing as he observed it. "Your dress was ripped. I know someone in Kakariko who can fix it."

The mood between you both quickly grew somber. The realization that you both weren't just divided by something as simple as an ocean. No, you were both divided by realms. You thought of Midna's lamentable voice echoing in the back of your mind. "We can never belong in their realm."

I seem to be doing a good job of assimilating.

Link gleefully chirped. "This is going to lift your spirits. I promise. Not to mention you won't get a better view of Lake Hylia than Falbi's."

"Partner! What brings you to Falbi's today?" A raucous voice greeted you as you made your way inside the whacky building.

Link took out 20 rupees and placed them in Falbi's palm. "This young lady is visiting Lake Hylia for the first time. Can we count on you to give us the grand flight-by-fowl?"

"Awwwwright! I'll lead the way! May I say, you snagged a beauty, partner!" Falbi gave a curtsy in your direction before nudging you to follow along.

He even had a peculiar gait to match his incomplete outfit. Link seemed to regard you carefully. His stare made you slightly uneasy, coaxing you to speak up. "What?"

"Y/N... you draw a lot of attention wherever you go. I don't want to impede your freedom. But I would feel better if you tried not to travel alone." Link shuffled beside you, looking at his feet. He was clearly uncomfortable by the conversation you were having.

"I'm not saying you have to just stay with me. Though I'd prefer to be the one by your side. But someone like Fado or Rusl. I can count on them. You can too."

You wanted to counter with some sort of defense. You realized that Link was right. Look at what the whole Aryn debacle caused. You also wondered how today's incident would impact Link and Ilia's relationship. Why would she be friends with someone so squalid? As you arrived at the summit of Falbi's, you walked toward the edge to take in the view. Instead of gasping at the scenic view of Lake Hylia's waters encompassing you, you gasped at something else.

Had Ilia sent Aryn? Had Ilia planned this whole horrid event? How could you even broach something so reproachful?

The altitude at which you stood made the cold air sting your lungs. Though it didn't sting as much as the undesirable thoughts looming over you.

"Y/N?"

You stared ahead, brushing Link off. Did he know who he was marrying? You did not come to the light for this. Do not focus anymore on this. You inhaled and followed it with a calming exhale. Link must have heard the staggered, deep breath that spilled out of you.  He snuck up behind you.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" Link questioned you sweetly. His voice always dripped out like the syrup he drenched your bread and apples in. This is the Hero of Twilight. He would never be part of such a devious farce. You thought of the way his eyes always regarded you with tenderness. Your intuitive radar told you without a shadow of a doubt that Link was not part of Ilia's plan.

Without a shadow of a doubt. The answers are always hiding in the shadows. You thought of Midna's question. You wondered if someone in the light could make sense of the answer better than you could.

"Link." You kept your gaze cast upon the sparkling ripples in the lake. "Did you know before I left, Midna gave me a homework assignment?"

Link snickered in amusement. "Sounds like Midna. What was the assignment?"

"Where does the truth lie? Within the shadows of the dark or the illumination of the light?" You surreptitiously looked Link's way to read his expression. His face was pensive as he looked out at Lake Hylia.

Instead of formulating an answer, he posed a question. "You've been in the light a few days now. Some part of me thinks you know the answer to Midna's assignment." He raised an eyebrow in your direction quizzically.

You took a moment before you proceeded with a response. " When the sun is out, I can faintly make out your Triforce. But under the light of the moon..." you paused, meeting Link's eyes. " Only under the light of the moon am I able to see it clearly."

A subtle smile lifted from the corners of Link's lips. "Not everything is as it appears in the light. We may be able to feel, but as you have witnessed, many of us don't show those feelings. They lie guarded within." Link used his hand to thud against where his heart would anatomically be located.

"Especially yours." You don't know what made you say it. Whenever you were near Link, it was like your lips had a mind of their own.

The beauty of Lake Hylia was long lost between you both. For the first time, you were becoming attuned to the beauty of something grander.

The beauty of being vulnerable.

*

Link could feel the warmth of the embers from the freshly kindled fire. Now that he had stoked the fire to his content, he took a seat across from Y/N. He was worried by Y/N's demeanor when they were at the top of Falbi's. He couldn't shake the way she had looked at him. The way in which she masterfully blurted, "Especially yours," in response to his guarded feelings. For someone who wasn't familiar with emotions, nobody had ever been so in tune with his.

After a moment of speculation in regard to Midna's assignment, it was time to take the plunge. He walked Y/N through what the flight-by-fowl really was. Her eyes shot open with panic. "We are flying with the cuccos?"

Link delivered her the most trustworthy smile he could. "Y/N... trust me. I would never let anything happen to you."

Her shoulders slumped as she became more subdued. Link grabbed a cucco by the feet, demonstrating what to do. As she selected a cucco worthy of the task, she gripped its' feet. "The important thing is to hold on securely but not crush the cucco's feet. On the count of three, we jump."

Link slightly bent his knees, the cucco flapping wildly above his head. He began to countdown. "One...Two..."

Y/N yelled, "Three!" Eagerly leaping off the ledge with her cucco.

"Y/N!" Link screamed. He plummeted below with his cucco. The endless lapping waves threatened to absorb them into its blue oblivion. The first part of the fall was always the scariest. Link couldn't lie; he was quite afraid his first time doing the flight-by-fowl. As the wind crushed against the weight of his body, he slammed his eyes shut so that he couldn't see his impending doom.

But doom never came. Instead, the cucco's ferocious flapping paid off. Before long, he began to soar. The cruel hand of the wind that was slapping against his body became the same hand that would carry him gracefully to his landing. Link opened his eyes to see Y/N. Her hair whipped savagely around her face. Finally, the wind permitted him to take a peek at her. She was laughing. Like he'd never seen her laugh. Engrossed in the way the blue of the sky bled into the blue of the lake. This is the light he wished for her to witness. The sheer feeling of anything being possible. Being boundless. Not burdened by the heaviness of emotions.

It was in the sky that Link realized he'd also lost sight of what the light was about. In fact, he never even knew. That was until he became a hero. When he began to explore and see the world. As he descended, his thoughts crashed back to reality along with his feet. He thought of Rusl.

He thought about the choice. The answer was always right there. He couldn't marry Ilia. He couldn't settle down in Ordon. He wasn't sure what the rest of his destiny entailed. But whatever it was, he felt he was closer to it when he roamed the expansive fields of Hyrule. He made a silent pact with himself then. He'd find a way to remove himself from this situation. He would find a solution that was just for everyone.

Y/N's bright e/c eyes peered at him through the crackling flames. "Link, tell me about the lakebed temple."

Now, as he sat, telling tales of his journey by the fire, it only confirmed what he already knew.

He vowed he would help Y/N find her place in this realm. For he too was looking for his own place to belong.

Was it wrong that he hoped the place they belonged to be the same?

That maybe they belonged together.

A/N: Edited 12/08/22

The water has a way of reflecting one's deepest emotions. As you wonder about the light and its' populace, someone else is doing some wondering of his own. Will both of your separate missions lead to the same ending?

Check out my other completed OOT Zelda work- No Woman Beyond

[alaffy]

Quiet on the Set: The Dark Side of Kids TV

This isn't a review or, really, a recap of the program, just some thoughts I had watching it.

Like many, I grew up watching Nick. That being said, the time Dan Schneider started was around the time i really stopped watching. I've heard of all these shows, but beyond a few episodes of "All That," I really haven't watched them. The funny thing is, this documentary is the first time I realized that Schneider was one of the kids from "Head of the Class." (although, in fairness, I never really watched that show either).

One thing I think this documentary did well is how they were able to show these sketches weren't innocent. Look, there's no denying that there are people who look for things to be offended about. But when you hear the behind the scenes stories, especially how Schneider treated the women writers and the women in the costume department, there's no question that these sketches weren't innocent. I'm not saying that kids shows can't have some jokes aimed for adults. But there is a line. And having young kids act out something that is a reference to a sexual act, that is way past that line.

As for Drake Bell's story, that is just horrific. I know that Bell feels like Schneider supported him (and possibly he did in his own way), but the fact that Schneider was able to figure out that Bell was the accuser as soon as Peck was arrested, tells me that Schneider had to have realized something was off about how much attention Bell was receiving. And he chose to do nothing.

As for those letters of support...I understand that the actor's weren't told the whole truth. But I don't think that's an excuse. I mean, they might not have known who the accuser was until they were in court, but they would have known that he was a minor. And actors like Alan Thicke and Joanna Kerns, who would have been in their 40s or 50s at the time...yeah, there's just no way I could hear someone I knew was convicted of a crime like that and not have a thousand questions. And there's no way in hell I'm going to write a letter saying a 40 year old man was tempted by a minor.

As for Nick, and their lack of support for Bell, Bell does mention that he didn't know if Nick knew he was the child in that case. I'm sure that's true. I'm sure Schneider didn't say anything as it could cost him his job. But let's be clear, Nick didn't know because Nick didn't want to know. They had to have known Peck worked on their shows, they could have done an investigation. Hell, sending someone down to the courthouse the day Peck was convicted would have given them the truth. So, again, no excuse.

And, to wrap it up, how do we protect children on tv shows? Well, there are a lot of laws to protect them. But who enforces them? A lot of it seems to be left to the idea that the parents of the kids will do it. After excluding the parents who just see their kids as a cash cow and don't really care about their well being, you still have a bunch of parents who are in no way shape or form ready to take on these big studios. That's not to say there weren't times in this documentary where I didn't question why the parent didn't step in, even if it did end their kids career. But the only way to make sure the laws are being followed and that kids are physically and mentally safe, is to have someone onset who is versed in child psychology as well as the rules that dictate how child actors are used. And it would have to be an independent party, not someone who works for the studio. I doubt that's something that will happen any time soon.