Escape Hell Dialogue"What are your plans for today?"Escape Hell Dialogue4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Shower. Then escape hell."
"Why are you showering in hell?"
"Hot water. And Satan isn't there yet."
"Is it really gonna be that bad?"
"It's gonna be worse. I just can't handle it right now."
"Do you want me to come rescue you? I can confront them for you."
"Rescuing me would be greatly appreciated. But if you could meet me around the corner from my house that would be better."
"Are you embarrassed of me or something?"
"What? No! You're my angel and I love you more than I can say. But one of their favorite things to attack is why I'm not going out with a guy yet."
"Wouldn't telling them that you have no interest in dicks put a stop to that?"
"It might. But it might also offend them enough to attack me directly. We talked about this; I'm not comfortable with myself to come out yet. That's why I love being with you away from people. I can be myself and it doesn't matter."
"What if you just introduce me as your friend? I can keep my hands off you long enou
Between Heaven and Hell ch. 3Chapter 3Between Heaven and Hell ch. 37 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Sharlotte was up early, as normal. She slipped herself out from under Raya and walked out onto the balcony, off of the kitchen to watch the sunrise.
It's very pretty, isn't it.' Taylor's soft voice carried to Shar's ears. Shar turned and looked at her. Taylor moved from the doorway and took place next to her friend. 'You really like her don't you?' Shar was shocked by the question.
'How did you know?'
'Well after seeing the way you two were last night. It was so sweet.' Taylor bumped into her friends hip playfully. Taylor missed having the old Shar...so carefree and wild.
'It doesn't matter...she's to good...she could do so much better then this.' Shar opened her wings to show Taylor. 'She's an angel...and...well...I'm Not.'
Taylor put her hand on Sharlott's shoulder softly. 'You may have made a deal with the devil...but He did not taint your heart.'
Shar quickly cut her off. 'Do you know what I did?!'
Taylor calmly continued. 'Just because you did it, doesn't make you the mo
22-23-2222-23-229 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
A loud rumble pushes its way in among my turned up radio. It doesn't complement the music well, so I pull off the side of the road. Sure enough, my right rear tire is shredded; a mile and a half from the school board meeting I need to cover, too. And my cell phone? Taking the day off at home, because it knew today would be the one day it'd be needed.
I limp the car to a nearby house, where thankfully the woman there knows me. As she goes to find me her phone, two little girls--I'm assuming granddaughters--run straight up to me. Haven't they learned not to trust strange men in slacks?
"What are you doing here?" one asks straight-out, surely a future journalist in the making.
"One of my tires blew. I need to use the phone to call for help."
"My name's Kaylie and I'm 6!" the other says.
"My name's Alison and I'm 8!" the first says, not to be left out.
"My name's Tim and I'm 22."
Both jaws drop. "Whooooa..."
I laugh. "Yeah. That's
XS: MSNJack pursed his lips as he stared at the emoticon that had just popped up on his msn page, it was a sheep entitled "You ". It was one of those lazy sunday afternoons and Jack had just spent hours sending back and forth stupid emoticons on the msn.XS: MSN5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Evil Emperor of Darkness Says: (2:34 pm)
Omi's Leader Says: (2:35 pm)
Evil Emperor of Darkness Says: (2:38 pm)
IT IS NOT A COMPLAMINT!! IT IS AN INSULT!! BE INSULTD RAYMUNDO!! >:C
Omi's Leader Says: (2:40 pm)
lol what's a compla mint? it sounds like you'd rly need it.
Evil Emperor of Darkness Says: (2:41 pm)
i meant compliment! you know i did!!!
Omi's Leader Says: (2:43 pm)
you are too easy to mess with XD btw the name's Raimundo not Raymundo
Somehow all this mindless chit chat was the highlight of Jack Spicer's day, it wasn't exactly the topic of their conversations that interested it was probably the fact that Raimundo had a new DP every half hour, and all of them were pretty entertaining t
First TimeLike many students, Teatime didn't wait until he graduated from the Guild to take on his very first assignment.First Time8 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Such an arrangement was covertly approved of by the teaching staff, even if it meant that untrained youngsters were taking on work: if they botched the job, well, it was entirely unofficial and had nothing to do with the Guild proper, and if they did well, it was a testament to the Guild's teaching. Students felt that it prepared them for the final exam: no last minute can-I-or-can't-I moral dilemmas.
Not that Teatime had ever been in any doubt. In fact, he was one of the youngest students to go this route, completing his first successful contract at 14.
It was wonderful. He felt superhuman, he felt utterly alive; he felt nothing but glee and joy and the swoop and fall of perfect movement. When he'd finished he was flushed, breathless, grinning broadly. He was also covered in blood and his wrist had been broken in two places, but it was worth it. He crawled back to the Guild,
Look At The WorldLook at the world. It hasnt really changed that much. It looks much the same as it always has. Its still spinning, which might actually surprise a few people. True, therere a few more brown patches, that sandy colour where there arent any trees but where there should be. But theres still green too, theres still white, the poles are still hanging in there; and theres still one hell of a lot of blue!Look At The World8 years ago in Transgressive More Like This
Look at all the countries. Or maybe not all of them, actually, because I cant tell you what happened in most of them. In any of them except my country. See, after the Explosion, everything, everywhere went crazy. Wars spread and they just kept getting worse and worse. Then the news basically stopped, because we shut off our borders. We didnt let anyone come from Across the Seas, didnt let anyone come from the North; we wrapped ourselves in a big cocoon, hoping that might help. So I really dont know what happened anywhere
Here you standHere you standHere you stand12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
there was no memory in which to rest
here you stand
your touch soft as moonlight
had I only known
I'd have hungered for you
Modern MagicThe witch Baba Yaga once baked herself breadModern Magic8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
out of spiders and liars and red razorwire
that was garnished with flowers from the vaults of the dead,
and sweetened with lye from a childs funeral pyre.
It was light as the crisp, cracking bones on the fields
and as sharp to the taste as the ash-scattered shards
that were all that remains of the swords and the shields
of the warrior king and his bold bodyguards.
In a chicken leg hovel at the edge of a wood
the witch Baba Yaga licks the dregs from the spoons
that she used to stir soup, spiced and thickened with blood
that the dying ones spilt from their widowing wounds.
But her low kitchen table will never be laid
and her bonewafer banquet will never be served,
while ghostly white whistles pipe a last serenade
as shes swept to the moon by the swerve of the earth.
The witch Baba Yaga in the coldness of space
weeping tears for the cage and her gingerbread home,
but icicled, weightless, they fly in her face
with the regular tick of
She Ran Into the MountainAlex bites off the heads of soldiers and rabbits,She Ran Into the Mountain11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
their necks snap wetly in her jaws, stick to her teeth.
Hair and fur gather in clumps on her tongue, yellow
and warm against the bony roof of her mouth.
She flosses her teeth with lengths of barbed wire,
spits blood and grayed mucous onto her feet.
Her veins are like wires, blue and bending against bone.
They cross and twist into knots between her knuckles.
Once, she tasted like the sugar rot of compost; thick
and fermented, a sticky slime clinging to my fingers.
We sat in her attic bedroom on hot Friday nights,
smoking out the window, a naked doll between us.
And now she is only in my head, a Ryden memory who
calls me in the summer, says, Darling, I miss kissing girls.
Would YouIf I bit my lip and said I'm fineWould You6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Would you believe me?
If I smiled and laughed
Would you hear the false tone?
If I cried and said it was nothing
Would you leave it be?
If I died tomorrow
Would you care?
Yes, yes you would.
For one cannot live without the other.
Yes, I'm afraid to live
Yes, I'm afraid to die
But I am more afraid to be without you, my love.
MetempsychophiliaDefinition 1: An obsession with migrating one's mind into new bodies. Definition 2: A sexually-charged version of the above.Metempsychophilia8 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
It is important to clarify that a simple enjoyment of or frequency in exchanging bodies is not a sign of metempsychophilia; it is a pathological need to change bodies. Discussion of being made impure by adherence to one body and changing bodies several dozen times per day are clear warning signs.
Likewise, the metempsychological fetish requires the subject impugn on others' rights (e.g. forcibly exchanging shells) in order to be classified as a mental illness. A fondness for sexual body-switching is not enough.
dArama - ISSUE ONE - Love.dArama - ISSUE ONE - Love.7 years ago in Editorial More Like This
The dynamic between core staff, volunteer staff, and the community can at times be pure quality dArama.
It's worth noting that for years I've worked pretty hard to remain neutral on community politics. Today, I'm going to shatter that concept.
Needless to say, I am extremely politically aware of the inner workings of the deviantART community. I read *a lot* of journals, comments, forums, chat rooms. I have fake accounts. I spy.
But I don't spend my time talking politics, instead I focus internally at deviantART designing technologies and implementing understandings with core staff to address the issues I see pop up.
It's time to take a moment to be a bit more petty.
In the inner workings of our politics exists the soul of deviantART. What is this place? What was it meant to do? What does it do? What could we do better? And it's the politics that give insight into how well the greater plan is running.
There's $core staff who are employees or contractors and work 8+
Dark Haiku天の孤独分野の暗いはすDark Haiku6 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
[The Dark Lotus on a Solitude Field of Heaven]
Useless Is My Soul
Begging Love Within Me
The Grass Bleeds Blood Red
JournalsWhat are journals for?Journals8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Deep dark secrets written for the eyes
Books of emotion
A box filled with thoughts?
A key to my mind.
A pathway to my past
A bridge from you to me.
Too bad the river is dry.
DeadDead8 years ago in Horror More Like This
He hovered over her bed, faltering, unsure of if he should cry out in remorse or cheer in relief. He put a hand to her forehead, and upon feeling the icy pallor that was her skin, he shuddered away from it with a look of repugnance that was absolutely undeniable. With a sneer, he overcame his sudden and overwhelming unwillingness to touch her and snatched her hand in his own, slowly sliding his palm down to her frozen wrist. Just as he suspected: no heart beat there. Another sly smile curved his lips as he dropped her limp wrist, watching as it rebounded slightly from the springs in the bed.
After a few silent moments of staring triumphantly down at her corpse, he turned away, his head immediately gracing his hands with its presence. With an almighty sigh and a heave of his shoulders, he let his head pick up and his eyes wander to and fro. She was dead, yes, but somehow the word seemed only too final for the girl that had ghosted his existence for the past five years. She was a lady of
A Cry for JusticeA Cry for Justice9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She crouches in a corner of her humble abode,
Fear writ large in her light brown eyes.
In her heart she cries out to the world,
"How much more will we be terrorized?"
All around her there's chaos and confusion,
None aware of this girl's silent appeal.
Bullets are flying and people are dying.
Fear grips her heart like a hand of steel.
All of a sudden she sees a light,
Out of the window high in the sky.
For a moment she thinks in wonder,
"What is this light, so bright, so high?"
Then she hears a voice from somewhere within,
"Don't fear little girl, keep your hopes high,
Wipe your tears and stand on your feet
And face your troubles with head held high!"
Reality is forced back onto her,
As she hears a scream of fright.
All fears forgotten, she rushes to the spot,
And there her eyes behold a horrific sight.
All around, there are bodies covered in blood,
Some mutilated and some burned alive.
Then a flicker of movement catches her eye,
She's full of relief, seeing someone alive.
She rushes to
Train songTrain songTrain song8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
rusting bus shelters
a single battered car
waits at the barrier
a train is a cocoon:
both inside and outside
Here is the place
where trees blur the line
between dark brown and azure.
Reflections in the window.
Outside a tiny village station
a single bulb illuminates
a lone kiosk. Silhouette
of a dog in the back yard.
Tracing the outline of what is
no foothills or factories
block the view:
sky kisses earth
on both cheeks.
Memories buried in the soil:
pearl of great price.
left behind between
is beginning to melt
at last, tinted pink
by afternoon dust.
The window of the compartment
Water of LifeWater of Life9 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It had been eighteen years since they'd seen their home world. Eighteen years since the earth had lain before them vibrant and blue. They had come home, and brought with them the water of life, salvation for a world in need. They'd left a desperate band of men with a mission, journeyed the stars as beggars, then thieves, and ultimately destroyers to return home to be heroes.
'Orbital control, this is the Lazarus on return approach, we're inbound heavy looking for our vector, over'
Nothing but silence greeted their request.
Earth was being consumed by a terrible plague when they had left, a plague that destroyed the infected from the inside. The doctors needed fresh blood, in great quantities in order to transfuse, and to synthesize the antibodies that had been cleaned from their blood through the generations. They had dug up a horrific judgement of a great many years ago, and no one was immune anymore. A disease their ancestors would have thought nothing of now st