Paint my OC...winnersAnd here are hardly expected winners from our Paint my OC contest (official contest article). There are 6 winners from two categories, so that means there are twice 1st, 2nd and 3rd place. Each winner will get many awesome prizes. There were so many amazing entries that it was really hard to choose winners (winners were chosen by me and my sister). Semi-finalists you were able to see in this journal. All other amazing entries you can check on buttons below of this journal.
Here is the list of judges who selected 10 semi-finalists from each category. All semi-finalists you can check in this article.
Jealousy is a devil. -Gift for ZackJealousy is a devil.Jealousy is a devil. -Gift for Zack2 years ago in Settings More Like This
(Just a warning, I never played any of the Final Fantasy games, so I'm going on the little things I do know on them.
And I have no idea if they really would celebrate Valentines day in their world ._.)
Out of all the people Zack would like to have for Valentines day, he would truthfully admit that it would be either Aerith or Cloud, for personal reasons.
Mostly because out of all the people he had met throughout his lifetime, he knew them the best and had a different kind of emotional connection to them.
Namely, he had a crush on both of them.
Walking through the little town were he asked Aerith to meet him,.
He did not expect her to be holding hands with Cloud, seeing as Cloud was on a mission in a city nearby, even though it looks like he was finished. Since it was nothing he couldn't handle.
Slowing down his pace to get a good look at the situation Zack raised an eyebrow slightly as Aerith smiled shyly at him.
"Hi Zack." She said as Cloud gave him a small
Wolf HideHe called me pretty boy when I first came here. Now he calls me trash, if he calls me anything at all.Wolf Hide2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Hey trash, pick this up for me."
It didn't even start out as a joke, as if he'd been saying it all along. It didn't bustle merrily across stage, as if it had been sitting in the wings, waiting for its inevitable appearance. It was thrown, like a heckler's open disdain.
Pretty boy became someone else, belonged to someone else.
What was I supposed to think of that? Some bastard boy with more hair on his legs than his face was the same bastard boy I had once been to someone else, when I'd first appeared on the scene.
I had tried to ignore the signs; he had seen them, and acted swiftly.
Just like I'd been tender, and the first pain had been tender, here was an ache that carried still that tenderness - it was a killing ache, but one devoid of love as the ones before it had not been.
Now here in my place was another soft, sweet tender ache for him. The ha
I could make a list,but I merely bit my lip when she asked me,I could make a list,2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
"What is it you're thankful for?"
How could I tell her
I was thankful for this heart
that beats a thousand times over
when I hear her speak?
Lament of an AtheistI cut candles straight down their waxy centerLament of an Atheist3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
just by looking into the flame. Slick peels of
honeycomb melt into my palm and blister skin.
Then the world ricochets forward.
I plummet back into my body and there's
a thick distortion in audio. A constant pulse at
the back of my eyes, tuned to the rhythm of your
heartbeat. I look for traces of you, but,
God, you're lost.
Leaves fall as paper lanterns from wooden fingers.
Spiraling upwards on the breath of cosmos, back
to Heaven, lit like the sun on a marvelous azure
backdrop. I needed your wisdom, but all is gone.
Christ, you're dead.
Atheists are not meant to love. Realists are not
meant for passion. Idealists are the dreamers
of their own demise; only they can make it
A man once told me that the astute make terrible
lovers, but I'll fight that to the bitter end. Maybe
the irrational are so hopeful in their wafts of
hallucination they cannot come to mindful conclusions
of their forsaken love.
There's a poet under my skin, itching
A Guide to OCTsOriginal Character Tournaments are all over deviantart and keep growing in popularity, but not everyone knows what they are or how to participate in them. Since they're hosted by individuals and not actually affiliated with the website itself, there are no guides available to help explain how they work. Hopefully, this FAQ will be helpful to anyone looking to get involved in OCTs.A Guide to OCTs6 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
What is an OCT?
OCTs, or "Original Character Tournaments" are contests held here on deviantart in which you can pit your original characters against other people's characters in a comic-style battle-royale. To put it simply, it's a cross between an art competition and a storytelling contest.
OCTs can be hosted on someone's account, or they can have a tournament account of their own. OCTs are usually open to anyone with a deviantart account, although some are invite only. Information about who is eligible to audition will usually be clearly stated s
I think you left a piece of you in me.This tangled mess you call a heart,I think you left a piece of you in me.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
daisy veins & sin;
She's bringing me down.
& you were merely shivering
pressing winter bones
against my sun-stricken mouth,
darkness searching for a home
buried in my lungs.
You whispered breathe me
lovely in the inhale/exhale
of carbon dioxide suicide.
She speaks only of you now,
lonely & mourning beats-
Crack open this damn ribcage;
An Apple A Day - A Myria LeJean Discworld FanficAn Apple A Day - A Myria LeJean Discworld Fanfic3 years ago in Humor More Like This
The rights to The Discworld and its characters created by Terry Pratchett are owned by Terry Pratchett and his publishers. All copyrights associated with the Discworld belong to them. Only the ideas and original characters in this work of fan fiction are my property. No profit is being derived from this story. Seriously guys, Pratchett is a genius. Go out and buy his books. Pratchett will thank you and so will I.
"Myria are you trying to paint again?"
Myria quickly stepped away from the canvas she had purchased that day. Nearby on the white tabletop sat a single apple, the epitome of appleness. It was red, yes it was. And shiny. There was even a bit of stem with a single green leaf sticking off of it. If one had to look at something and say "hey, now THAT is an apple," this would be it. It practically screamed "Paint me! I am Apple! Hear me er make whatever sound an apple would make."
Myria crossed her arms and dipped her head, leaving a red streak on her blouse in t
Golden Ink and Going BackI thought I was in love with that four-year old red-haired boyGolden Ink and Going Back2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Shining in a silver knight costume with a black dragon sewn on
Because I was in the pink Sleeping Beauty Dress
I was a good Belle, too
(Back when I hadn't picked up a book
Except for the blue one with the golden pages
Brimming with witches and fairies and magic)
I wanted to be a princess, back then
They were the ones who always found love, at the end
I wanted to be Wendy, too
Because she wore a blue nightgown and learned to fly
Now, I'd rather be Peter Pan, honestly
Because he managed to swerve this whole ordeal of growing up
(And maybe a little because of the flying)
Now, I just want to go back
Back when the only kissing I thought about
Was in The Princess and the Frog
And the only houses I had to be weary of
Were houses made of candy
Back when the only disappointment
Was when my parents were too tired to read me a bedtime story
Or when I found out that the real Little Mermaid
Dies by Hans Christian Andersen's hand
The Best is Yet to Comeif we grow oldThe Best is Yet to Come2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
there will be a sigh
an attention to the change
as your muscles slacken underneath
your faded, favorite shirt
the one that's threadbare, "holy"
in a sense less than divine
I'll have washed it for
the thousandth time
our eyes will crinkle, wrinkle
in ways that start to match
and we'll hold hands and ask:
when did the nerves and veins
begin to let our hands get cold?
-if we grow old
CanadaxReaderFast forward: Part oneCanadaxReaderCanadaxReaderFast forward: Part one2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Fast forward: Part one
You glared at the text book in front of you, rubbing your tired eyes. Why was learning history so hard sometimes? It was like the authors wanted you to die of boredom before you got past the first chapter. And of course, the subject you had picked was the worst of any type of history.
Revolutions. Sure they were necessary in some ways, but seriously, there was only so much one person could read before they found themselves drooling on the book, fast asleep.
You rubbed your eyes again as the words blurred on the page. Glancing at your watch you cursed. Five minutes until the public library closed. Getting up, you stretched and sighed. Putting the books back, you walked past the head librarian and outside.
A cold wind whipped through the air, messing your hair and making your shiver. Why was is so windy on a spring day? You blinked and stopped in your tracks, turning in a slow circle.
There was no one on the stre
Through the LightThe cancer took Mary on a Friday, just after three in the morning. She was laying in bed, sleeping. I sat in the chair near the window, reading something, I forget now what, trying not to think about the moment, only thinking about the moment. It had just finished raining, and I had the window to the room cracked, the scent of fresh condensation floating in from the garden outside. The air smelled pure and relaxed. It was lovely.Through the Light2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
I was dozing slightly when the EKG started to beep. It took me several seconds to realize what exactly I was hearing, not that it mattered much. By the time I was out of the chair, the nurse had walked in. She moved down the corridor from the lobby to the room with calm purpose, her steps quick but not rushed. She kept a forced, tiny smile at the corners of her mouth, an expression I’m sure she had used hundreds of times, and nodded to me as I dropped the book. She went straight to the machine and silenced the godawful alarm.
She checked Mary’s pul
Awesome secrets Norway endingAwesome secretsAwesome secrets Norway ending2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"(Name).....(name)...." Someone was whispering in your ear. You felt someone poking your side.
"Five more minutes" you said as you turned on your side. The poking continued. When that didn't work you heard a sigh. Then you were being tickled.
"No hahaha.....stop" you said as you were trying to stop your attacker. You grabbed them by the wrist. You then realized it was just Norway.
"What was that for?" You asked as you held onto him.
"You weren't waking up" he said with a shrug. You only rolled your eyes to his response.
"Well I'm up now" you said with a cocky grin as your (e/c) eyes met Norway's. you then realized you were staring at him so you turned away as your face turned red. You decide now would be a good time to get some food (you were starving) so you got up to go to the kitchen whenNorway then grabbed your arm.
"(Name)...." You looked toward him wondering what he was going to say next.
Wait a sec. Did you just see him blush?
"Yes?...." You said tr
Sleep Tight: PrologueSleep Tight: Prologue2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The night was calm, the air cold and crisp. The stars shone brightly, piercing through the veil of black sky, fighting against one another to have their light to be seen the best. They flickered and twinkled as they laughed at and with one another, filling the universe with a celestial mirth.
They were laughing away their troubles.
For, that night, yet another star had been extinguished. Yet another golden planet. With them, another galaxy.
But all of this went unknown to the inhabitants of this little green and blue planet, a safe haven that was, at the time, not found on any maps of the cosmos. Our planet, whose atmosphere the remaining childlike stars were trying to project their light into.
A peaceful planet where no evil was known.
But that would change on this fateful night.
Winter held the Earth close this night long ago, smothering it in its thick, caring embrace. It permeated everything, wanting to follow the critters and people into their homes as a guest, a family mem
No One Deserves to Be Alone 2 (RussiaXReader)It had become a ritual to the two of you. On Saturday night, Ivan would come and request a seat in your section of the restaurant-but after a few weeks all the staff knew of Ivan and would automatically put him in a table for two in your area. You would come and take his order, and when you asked what he wanted to drink, the same conversation always occurred.No One Deserves to Be Alone 2 (RussiaXReader)2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
“Hello sir, I’m ______ and I will be your server for the evening!” You would cheerfully announced to an amused Ivan (to anyone who didn’t know him that well, they would have thought he was extremely annoyed), “What can I get you to drink this fine Saturday evening?”
“A shot of vodka, if you will,” he always responded, not looking up from his menu. You would roll your eyes and sigh with mocking disapproval.
“I’m sorry sir, we don’t serve alcohol here. Can I interest you in some water?”
Your boss would let you out a half an hour earl