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Deviant for 5 Years
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Commissions

Writing.
I can do stories, like fanfiction, with canon characters from almost anything, just ask. I can also write something featuring your OC and a canon character if you'd like. I can write almost anything if you ask (not just stories), but if for some reason I can't write it, then it's most likely because I'm not familiar with the fandom you're requesting, or because I'm just not comfortable with writing it.

Anyways, ask away! Oh, and here's my fanfiction account if you'd like a sample of my writings beforehand: www.fanfiction.net/~kaleidosco…

Prices will vary depending on what you're asking for, just be warned. I will also trade a story for art if you can draw.

Newest Deviations

Literature
3.29.14
She’s hanging out her window at three A.M., watching ashes dance out of reach on the wind
From a cigarette that she wishes she didn’t feel as if she needed
In order to stop her from doing something even more self destructive,
And she is invisible.
I wish I were as close to her as that stream of nicotine is;
I wish I could stain her brain with vibrant colors and thoughts,
I wish I could convince her that she’s better than this. Her body is littered in scars.
Her head is loud and crowded with every name and insult she’s ever had directed at her,
And there isn’t a name that they can call her that she hasn’t already called herself.
She stands rebellious and strong against her tormentors, yells at them to say it again,
Because they’ve almost got her convinced – But inside, she’s crumbling down
Another inch every fucking second. She’s stopped eating again.
She doesn’t do it on purpose; it’s just hard to feel hungry wh
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Literature
Raw Passions
My best friend of too many years to count once told me,
“The best feeling in the world is being loved by a person
Who hates damn near everyone.” And I replied, “Oh, yes,
Because you would know this.” I should've put two and two together,
However, because she told me this right after I mentioned
Offhandedly, how I thought being able to head slap somebody
And them instantly knowing why and what their act of stupidity
Had been would be the most spectacular superpower to ever have.
I'm ashamed to say that it did take me a few seconds to realize
She was talking about me. Once I did, however, I thought it was funny,
I still do, Because, one: I didn't hate everyone, I hated everyone
Who was stupid enough to believe that ignorance truly is bliss,
Because, two: Yes, everyone is entitled to their own opinions,
And in my opinion, hatred is the best defense against
Three: getting hurt, being let down by others, and yes, stupidity.
Four: It really is a shame, because I learn
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Literature
An Ode To I Don't Care Anymore
This poem is dedicated to my old bullies and to the teachers
Who did nothing to stop them, to the Board of Education members
who know nothing about positive contraception methods and
Teaching this stuff in our classrooms, to the politicians who think
They can police a woman's body when they can't even control their own;
This is something I wrote in hopes of hitting Society below the belt,
And this is meant for everybody and everything else that keeps jacking my shit up.
This is an ode to I don't care anymore. To the family members
Who were angry with me instead of patient when
I needed them to understand the most. To my passions
Like hatred and music and writing; My problems
Like a list on this 8 ½ by 11 inch piece of paper...
They never seem as big or as intimidating when
Separated by 25 blue lines. When jotted down with
Chicken scratch shrapnel that a homemade bomb heart
Blew through my veins; This is both a promise and a threat
To all the kids who told me to go kill myself ag
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Literature
Life Is The Greatest Assassin
I've always been a curious person, sometimes even border-lining on rude.
And some might figure that it's because my mother's name was Catherine,
Shortened to Cat, and I grew up calling her 'Meow' instead of 'Mom' ;
I suppose I might as well chalk it up to that, too. Along with curiously rude,
I was a little weirdo, but I figure by now, who isn't? I've yet to meet a sane person
On this Earth, but I have met you. And I've seen another world in your eyes,
Better than this one, and I'd rather be there with you than here any day. But back it up.
Because this isn't just another love poem. Being a curious person,
I tend to learn a lot. And one of the first things I've ever learned was that
Life has no room for love in it's plans. There is no room for you and me
In the grand scheme of things. And I don't think I'm quite okay
With that yet, but I'm still learning. I'm almost there. Just the way
That I've been there for you through every single bad break up,
The two weeks in a row you slept in m
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Literature
It's Not Always A Dark Alley
I was thirteen years old, sitting in the middle of a school cafeteria,
When I had the stunning revelation that I was probably the only person
On this Earth that had both a god complex and a large amount of
Self-hatred to rival it. Thinking back on that stunning revelation,
I now realize that, while the god complex and self-hatred thing was true,
I am also a bloody, raging idiot. Because I know now, that other people
Feel that way, too. I was standing in the lunch line, listening in on some
Nobody's conversation, cringing in time with the rape joke he dropped
And the degrading punch line; realizing with different levels of horror
That he was saying this to his girlfriend, of all people. And that she laughed
When he nudged her and winked at his other friend next to him.
I had my hands shoved as deep into the pockets of my skinny jeans
As I thought that they would go; my finger nails biting into my palms
And my shoulders shaking in rage, but my mouth was sewn shut by
The knowledge that ap
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Literature
Bank Robbers and Astronauts
I grew up an angry person
But I grew up muffled and muted, too.
Like Kenny off of South Park, except when my hood finally came off,
I wasn't saying, “Goodbye, you guys,” I was screaming, “Well fuck you!”
I hit seventh grade with the soundtrack of going down swinging
Screeching out of my headphones, blowing my eardrums out with
All the ways I thought I could civilly disobey every authority figure in my life
Who thought they actually meant something to me and cared about me.
But that was middle school and I was still little. I hit ninth grade, high school,
With bloody knuckles and people who were afraid of me because of how I acted.
But that's the thing. I was acting. And the thing about depression that nobody told me
Is that it's not about feeling sad. It's about feeling numb and hollow and angry.
To the bully who all my 'friends' seemed to like, I wanted to turn to him
And punch him in the throat, I wanted to make him notice me and make
Him feel afraid for what
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Literature
Live A Little
I've been waging and winning wars since before I was born.
My mother didn't know she was pregnant with me / before you could ever get on TV
for that very reason; She was four months along when the pregnancy finally became known
And she stopped taking her birth control. Show of hands, how many of you know what that can do
To a developing baby? Because she didn't. She was seventeen and scared,
With a good fiancee and a four year old and a thousand doctors telling her that
Abortion was the best option, the only option,
Because I was supposed to have cerebral palsy,
And their professional opinion was that a teenaged mother
Would not have been able to
Take care of me.
Now, I want you all to take a second to think about that. For those of you who don't know,
Cerebral Palsy is a mental disorder where, in the worst case scenario,
the afflicted can not walk, / Or talk,
Or take care of themselves in any way. In the doctors' most professional opinions,
I was going to be the worst case scenario of
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Literature
Z: Zippy
Z: Zippy.
“What one would call someone who was full of energy and unable to calm down.”
After fourteen and a half years of life, it took Alex two skipped meals and a rude comment from Wolf to make Alex realize he had hypoglycemia, or low blood sugar.
They had had a small breakfast and were told to go on an all day hike; an endurance test or something of the sort. It had been okay at first--- Cub could keep up with his unit on most things, anyways, but once it hist midday, Cub began to slow his pace.
He was shaking uncontrollably, had double and blurry vision (which was quite disorienting), and almost four hours into the hike, Cub forgot what he was doing altogether. When they stopped to set up camp near nightfall, Wolf addressed him.
“Cub, you look like shit.” 'Good old Wolf for me,' Cub thought, aggravated. The teen picked his head up off of his knees to glare at the unit leader. He couldn't even make out facial features.
“Whoa...Wolf, he kinda loo
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Literature
Y: Young
Y: Young
“Being youthful.”
Alex is a spy because he is young and capable of being one. He is good at what he does because his enemies don't suspect him. And even though his job has somewhat ruined his life, Alex enjoys being a young spy.
He takes a certain entertainment from the fact that, even though he won't, he could kill the people starting rumors about him without a sound. He could do it in fifty different ways, and it could all look accidental or suicidal.
He finds it funny how he can manipulate a conversation so bad that the main topic will be why he's gone so much and the topic he eased the person into will be what they had for dinner two nights ago.
Tom has seen him at work, disabling a bomb in the storage room that one of his enemies placed there. Tom had commented that he was proud he was Alex's best mate. Alex was also glad he was a spy, because, in a way, it had brought him Tom, too.
If Ian hadn't taught him everything he knew about fighting in preparati
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Literature
X: X-mas
X: X-mas.
“The holiday of Christmas. December 25th.”
Alex had never experienced a holiday other than his birthday. Which really didn't count, because he didn't like his birthday. Even with Jack, Alex never did anything. The red-headed American usually flew home for the holidays, and Ian just never celebrated them.
And for some reason, this came to a complete and utter shock to the four men Alex called K-Unit. Since Jack had been sent back to America against her will, Alex had went to Brecon Beacons. He was situated wit K-Unit again, and the four soldiers were a lot better than the first time around.
Wold considered Cub a part of the unit, and Alex considered the four as potential friends, even. It was honing in on December 25th when Snake popped the question. “Hey Cub, what did you get for Christmas last year?” the medic asked.
“Nothing, why?” Fox chucked a pillow at the teen's head. “What? Were you a bad kid or something?” The sol
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Literature
W: Warfare
W: Warfare.
“The act of war.”
Wolf never expected to see Cub again. The kid was no soldier; he was the son of a rich man. At least, that's what Wolf and the rest of the SAS soldiers had thought of him. He was right--- Cub was no soldier, but he was a spy. And that's what he was doing in Iraq. Spying.
Cub was acting as a weapons dealer for the other, smaller army, when in truth, he was reporting all their stocks back to Sergeant Niter. The SAS units were in Iraq, trying to subdue the rebels. They weren't to take direct actions unless action was absolutely needed.
MI6 thought it safe to send Alex in where three other men had failed. The teen had agreed, knowing that SAS units were going to be there as his immediate back up. Alex had been going over the list of new weapons with the sergeant when none other than Wolf himself opened the door.
“Sir, we've got reason to believe that the rebels are moving out this morning.” He was looking at a paper, which was th
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Literature
V: Vandalism
V: Vandalism.
“The act of destroying someone's property on purpose.”
Tom was good at getting Alex to go along with his plans. It did help some that Alex was willing to do it in the first place. The whole first year was at Brecon Beacons, after an attack was made on Brookland.
K-Unit had yet to know Cub was back, and said teen had a plan to reveal himself to them. “Okay, Tom. You get the word 'Cub,' and I'll get the word 'Rocks'. You know who to hit?” They were chatting quietly to themselves at the far end of a dinner table.
After the meal, two units were going to take them paint balling; K and D-Units. “Yeah, yeah,” Tom said, “ 'C' on Wolf, 'U' on Fox, and 'B' on Snake. You got Eagle with 'R' and D-Unit with the rest.”
Alex smiled wickedly and bumped his fist against Tom's own. “Let's do this.”
Almost an hour and a half later found the two sniggering boys in a line up with the rest of the students. They had made sure to
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Literature
U: Unarmed.
U: Unarmed.
“The act of going into a dangerous situation with nothing to protect oneself with.”
Alex hated going in unarmed. Sure, he got defensive little gadgets from Smithers, but no guns or anything. Blunt treated him like an adult, but gave him rules as if he were a child. The teen wanted to scream at the man and tell him to make up his mind.
After his training with SCORPIA, Blunt still refused to give him a gun. Alex couldn't understand why. He had even gone to Mrs. Jones, once, in hopes of shedding light on the situation. No light was thrown on it; in fact, it was darker than ever when the woman said, “I think you should ask Mr. Blunt himself.”
After that, Alex didn't even bother on asking Mr. Smithers. After Alex was debriefed on his Point Blanc mission, Blunt sighed and told him to sit down. “Alex, would you like to know why I send you in unarmed?”
The teen could feel his brow furrow. “Actually, yes, I do.” Blunt nodded his
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Literature
T: Torture
T: Torture.
“The act of inflicting severe physical or any other type of pain on someone  to force information out of them.”
Tucker Misigno was having fun. Which, in itself, was a bad thing. He whipped the boy again and watched as the blood soaked back arched. He had been at this for an hour and the teen hadn't even uttered a sound.
Full grown men had been screaming at this point. In truth, it was taking all of Alex's will power to not give the man what he wanted. He was pretty sure that if he bit any harder, he'd bite his tongue in half.
Finally, the whips stopped slicing into his skin and Alex released his tongue slowly. He was cut down, ropes still around his wrists, and practically thrown across the room. Tucker continued to beat on him until he rendered the boy unconscious.
When Alex woke up, he was sure of three things. One, his shoulder was dislocated. Two, there was a siege going on. And three, if there was a siege, there were potential rescuers. The door
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Literature
S: Scars
S: Scars.
“A permanent mark left on the skin after a wound has healed.”
Alex had wounds that scarred, and some that didn't. A whip across the back? Scar. A scraped knee? Probably not. He had emotional wounds that would scar, too.
Jack being shot in the head in front of him? Scar. Kids calling him something he was not? No scar. Alex found it ironic that no amount of physical pain could even skim the edges off the emotional pain.
It just wasn't right. He shouldn't have to go through with this. If Blunt had shipped him off to a mental hospital, he would have felt a lot better. But no, the man had sent him back to Brecon Beacons for protection and training.
He didn't feel inclined to tell his boss that he would only be receiving one of the two. And to top it all off, he couldn't even get back with K-Unit because they were currently deployed far away, in a completely different country.
He had to train with E-Unit, who had lost a man temporarily to a broken foot. His tempo
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Literature
R: Remembrance Day
R: Remembrance Day.
“A day to collectively remember your dead.”
Alex fiddled with the three red poppies in his hand. It was November eleventh, and the teen suddenly wished he had gone on that recon mission that was offered to him the day before. He had forgotten all about this little meeting, much to his annoyance.
It was more of a tradition than a meeting, really. It was held outside in a secure graveyard, almost all of the MI6 agents and some SAS units present. Much to Alex's pleasure, Ben Daniels was there, so K-Unit was, too.
His last name was called from the microphone, so the teen stood up and walked towards Mrs. Jones. She gave him a rare smile as he stepped up to speak.
“My name's Alex Rider. At least four of you know me as Cub, but that's a different story,” Alex began. He was almost proud of the fact that his voice didn't waver. He dropped two of the red poppies at the front of the stage, where more had been piled up.
“I lost my mum and da
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I haven't had internet in a long time though. 
My parents don't have the money to pay the consumer's bill right now so it's probably going to still be awhile before I get internet back. Just wanted to let you guys know while I was in a wifi-zone. I'll be back sooner or later though, I promise.
  • Reading: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
  • Playing: Pokemon Heart Gold

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KaleidoscopicPanda
Cal
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
Seventeen. Virgo. Wiccan. Michigan.

I don't really care what you do; just don't waste what time you do have hating what you see in the mirror.
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:icontomprante:
TomPrante Featured By Owner Feb 15, 2014  Professional Digital Artist
Thank you for the Llama...an important part of life! Hug
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:iconjrwenzel:
JRWenzel Featured By Owner Nov 4, 2013  Professional Digital Artist
:iconthankyouforthellama:
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:iconkaleidoscopicpanda:
KaleidoscopicPanda Featured By Owner Nov 5, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
You're very welcome! ^^
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:icondichan85:
dichan85 Featured By Owner Oct 17, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
llama for llama??? 100%return!
6,982 Badges sent, 6,967 Badges received :llama:
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:icontheunaveragejoe:
theunaveragejoe Featured By Owner Aug 28, 2013
:party:HAPPY BIRTHDAY!:party:
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:iconkaleidoscopicpanda:
KaleidoscopicPanda Featured By Owner Aug 29, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Than you~! :D
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:icontheunaveragejoe:
theunaveragejoe Featured By Owner Aug 30, 2013
You're welcome~! :D
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:iconhumanlly:
humanlly Featured By Owner Aug 12, 2013
:iconcool-llama-plz: :iconthankyouforthellama:
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:iconkaleidoscopicpanda:
KaleidoscopicPanda Featured By Owner Aug 13, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome! :D
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humanlly Featured By Owner Aug 13, 2013
:iconawwplz:
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