SilhouettedRider's avatar
A face from the past...
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R
REQUEST - Fiery Cravings (Part 4)
The grating sound that closely followed him was unnerving; the metal blades on the ludicrously long tentacles that formed as sleeves created a strident, jarring sound on the concrete metal floor of the derelict building, and Ryan pushed forward against the vibrations running through the sleeves into the straightjacket, becoming increasingly uncomfortable and exhausted from the effort that it took him. He was being marched through the asylum, and as soon as he saw the inside, he took a sharp intake of breath and a quiver shook through his body. It was not what he had expected. The floor was concrete-grey, with what looked like varying shade
0
4
R
REQUEST - Fiery Cravings (Part 3)
The dull thud quickly followed by a splash finally brought her to a standstill, and she glared down at the water that was quickly seeping away into the mud, and then at the bucket that was rocking slightly on its side from where her boot had lashed out at it. Cassandra sighed in frustration, and ran her grimy fingers through her already-knotted hair that was matted down with grease. She whirled back around in anticipation of what came next, but instantly stopped when she saw...nothing. There were no black paws pitter-pattering after her, no whiny voice incessantly nagging her, no watery, green eyes that were often pleadingly wide. There was
3
0
R
REQUEST - Fiery Cravings (Part 2)
The duskiness shrouded him, pressing on his vision as his eyes remained alert, flitting about as the darkness whirled around him, almost knocking him off his feet. The dampness of the room sent shivers shuddering throughout his entire body; the hairs pricking up on the back on his neck, his heart hammering against his chest. A thunderous, scratchy, disembodied cackle resounded through his ears, bouncing off the walls. He shot his head from one side to the other, hastily revolving on the spot, trying to keep all of his angles covered. “You’ve been avoiding me,” a slow, raucous voice taunted, causing Ryan to spin around abru
0
1
G
Game-book: Island Captive. (pg 5)
Regrettably, you look up towards the body again, knowing that it would be a waste of energy trying to reach who-ever-it-is. No, you affirm, you need to stay focused. Instead, you start searching the ground for anything that might be of use. As soon as you begin looking more carefully, you realise that the ground is more littered than you originally thought, presumably from the wreckage. You begin to survey the ground, trying to find something of use. Most of it is worthless; blackened wood, pieces of stray material, unfathomable charred remnants of, what you presume to be, things like kitchen utensils, mirrors, chairs, plastic bottles, wir
0
3
G
Game-book: Island Captive. (pg 4)
Taking in a deep breath, you look back up towards the body ahead. You realise this is your only option; if there is any possibility that this person might live, you need to find out. After all, you can’t do everything by yourself. And so, with your mind made up, you attempt to stand up once more, but find task near impossible due to the outburst of pain that erupts throughout your body; it causes you to collapse, breathless, wincing in torment as your hand compresses your wound. You roll over so that you are back on your front, refusing to give up on yourself now. With all your effort, you manage to hoist yourself up onto your hands a
0
2
M
Motionless
  They used to laugh at the profound pleasure I found in the absence of company. They used to jeer and taunt at my desirable ability to display high intellect in front of a confounded crowd. And lastly, they used to involve other individuals into their deluded ideas due to a clear lack of sensitivity and self-restraint over their personal emotions. This all ended in one fatal day; the day where they decided to take a joke to a new and extreme level, and the day where all meaning and subsistence was lost. They did the Unspeakable. Thereafter, terror and horror collided, and fell upon them that day. I haven’t seen them since – the
2
8
E
Ebbs of Sanity
Freedom. I refused to bite back the smile that was slowly forming on my face, transpiring into a grin, and consequently I let out a liberating titter of laughter. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before. It was like I was free; not headed in one single direction but open to whichever way I choose. It was like I was flying. The force of the wind blew my hair right back, following me in my every move, like I was in control. I then felt bliss in the aching of my muscles, realising that my arms were outstretched, embracing the natural air, and I extended my fingers to the cold, overpowering sensations, inspiring trepidation and awe into
4
11
T
The Awaited Arrival
I reached out and pulled the cold handle back until it gave way, shivering as one last blast of iciness briskly launched at me; trapped in the cross-hairs by the mighty blow. After it had abruptly subsided, I tugged at my jacket so that it was wrapped around me and then crossed my arms over it, keeping it in place, and that’s where I stood, observing as the tiny specs of silver glistened in the fading rays of the soft-orange sun. It was a terrible thing, but I couldn’t help thinking, just what was taking him so long? I sighed, and loosened my one hand, letting it wonder gently towards my neck. I then felt the cool, studded jewels
26
15
G
Game-book: Island Captive. (pg 3)
Exhaustion has drained you, pain has blinded you, and as you lay there on your back; panting, your head and waist throbbing, your heart pounding in your ears; you reason that there is no alternative. You can’t move; you can barely breathe for the effort that it’s costing you and the pain that it’s resulting in. And so, you draw a deep breath, and – “Help! Please!” It was barely a whisper; your voice came out in a croak. Yet your throat still began to thump along in rhythm to your heartbeat. But you can’t surrender to yourself like this; and so you clear your throat, painful as it is, and succeeded
0
6
See all
R
REQUEST - Fiery Cravings (Part 4)
The grating sound that closely followed him was unnerving; the metal blades on the ludicrously long tentacles that formed as sleeves created a strident, jarring sound on the concrete metal floor of the derelict building, and Ryan pushed forward against the vibrations running through the sleeves into the straightjacket, becoming increasingly uncomfortable and exhausted from the effort that it took him. He was being marched through the asylum, and as soon as he saw the inside, he took a sharp intake of breath and a quiver shook through his body. It was not what he had expected. The floor was concrete-grey, with what looked like varying shade
0
4
R
REQUEST - Fiery Cravings (Part 3)
The dull thud quickly followed by a splash finally brought her to a standstill, and she glared down at the water that was quickly seeping away into the mud, and then at the bucket that was rocking slightly on its side from where her boot had lashed out at it. Cassandra sighed in frustration, and ran her grimy fingers through her already-knotted hair that was matted down with grease. She whirled back around in anticipation of what came next, but instantly stopped when she saw...nothing. There were no black paws pitter-pattering after her, no whiny voice incessantly nagging her, no watery, green eyes that were often pleadingly wide. There was
3
0
R
REQUEST - Fiery Cravings (Part 2)
The duskiness shrouded him, pressing on his vision as his eyes remained alert, flitting about as the darkness whirled around him, almost knocking him off his feet. The dampness of the room sent shivers shuddering throughout his entire body; the hairs pricking up on the back on his neck, his heart hammering against his chest. A thunderous, scratchy, disembodied cackle resounded through his ears, bouncing off the walls. He shot his head from one side to the other, hastily revolving on the spot, trying to keep all of his angles covered. “You’ve been avoiding me,” a slow, raucous voice taunted, causing Ryan to spin around abru
0
1
G
Game-book: Island Captive. (pg 5)
Regrettably, you look up towards the body again, knowing that it would be a waste of energy trying to reach who-ever-it-is. No, you affirm, you need to stay focused. Instead, you start searching the ground for anything that might be of use. As soon as you begin looking more carefully, you realise that the ground is more littered than you originally thought, presumably from the wreckage. You begin to survey the ground, trying to find something of use. Most of it is worthless; blackened wood, pieces of stray material, unfathomable charred remnants of, what you presume to be, things like kitchen utensils, mirrors, chairs, plastic bottles, wir
0
3
G
Game-book: Island Captive. (pg 4)
Taking in a deep breath, you look back up towards the body ahead. You realise this is your only option; if there is any possibility that this person might live, you need to find out. After all, you can’t do everything by yourself. And so, with your mind made up, you attempt to stand up once more, but find task near impossible due to the outburst of pain that erupts throughout your body; it causes you to collapse, breathless, wincing in torment as your hand compresses your wound. You roll over so that you are back on your front, refusing to give up on yourself now. With all your effort, you manage to hoist yourself up onto your hands a
0
2
M
Motionless
  They used to laugh at the profound pleasure I found in the absence of company. They used to jeer and taunt at my desirable ability to display high intellect in front of a confounded crowd. And lastly, they used to involve other individuals into their deluded ideas due to a clear lack of sensitivity and self-restraint over their personal emotions. This all ended in one fatal day; the day where they decided to take a joke to a new and extreme level, and the day where all meaning and subsistence was lost. They did the Unspeakable. Thereafter, terror and horror collided, and fell upon them that day. I haven’t seen them since – the
2
8
E
Ebbs of Sanity
Freedom. I refused to bite back the smile that was slowly forming on my face, transpiring into a grin, and consequently I let out a liberating titter of laughter. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before. It was like I was free; not headed in one single direction but open to whichever way I choose. It was like I was flying. The force of the wind blew my hair right back, following me in my every move, like I was in control. I then felt bliss in the aching of my muscles, realising that my arms were outstretched, embracing the natural air, and I extended my fingers to the cold, overpowering sensations, inspiring trepidation and awe into
4
11
T
The Awaited Arrival
I reached out and pulled the cold handle back until it gave way, shivering as one last blast of iciness briskly launched at me; trapped in the cross-hairs by the mighty blow. After it had abruptly subsided, I tugged at my jacket so that it was wrapped around me and then crossed my arms over it, keeping it in place, and that’s where I stood, observing as the tiny specs of silver glistened in the fading rays of the soft-orange sun. It was a terrible thing, but I couldn’t help thinking, just what was taking him so long? I sighed, and loosened my one hand, letting it wonder gently towards my neck. I then felt the cool, studded jewels
26
15
G
Game-book: Island Captive. (pg 3)
Exhaustion has drained you, pain has blinded you, and as you lay there on your back; panting, your head and waist throbbing, your heart pounding in your ears; you reason that there is no alternative. You can’t move; you can barely breathe for the effort that it’s costing you and the pain that it’s resulting in. And so, you draw a deep breath, and – “Help! Please!” It was barely a whisper; your voice came out in a croak. Yet your throat still began to thump along in rhythm to your heartbeat. But you can’t surrender to yourself like this; and so you clear your throat, painful as it is, and succeeded
0
6

Spotlight

G
Game-book: Island Captive. START HERE (pg 1)
Somewhere beyond the darkness, you see a glimmer of hope. Something is shining directly in your eyes. You keep them squeezed shut, praying that you are now in safe hands, and now after all of your suffering, the gates of Heaven have finally opened to permit you a sanctuary for eternity. But it was not to be. You slowly open your eyes, and squinting through the sudden brightness, you realise that you are staring at the rays of the intense midday sun, which is mostly hidden by the trees you can make out ahead. Just as you begin to wander whether or not you really are on the other side, you jolt with a start when you find you are, quite liter
14
16
Jul 12
United Kingdom
Deviant for 7 years
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Comments143

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LiquidSquidz's avatar
LiquidSquidz| General Artist
I’m two days late, but happy birthday!
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DragonActive07's avatar
Happy birthday
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RKrakinski's avatar
RKrakinski|Professional Writer
Happy birthday, SR. :)
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DragonActive07's avatar
Hello. Its me, Author1313
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Growlie26's avatar
Growlie26|Hobbyist Digital Artist
:( What do you do when, you're passionate about writing yet, your works always get more fave & run rather than comments? 

Most of my fanfics are blank without any comments, so I get discouraged to continue writing when I Only get fave and run. I mean, it's great when someone likes your stories but... you then wonder abit later if... they really Did like it. Perhaps every deviant has felt this way. 

Before my writing wasn't any good, after one critique (By a great Deviant who took their time out of their day to critique it.) I worked abit on my writing and Have Improved! But, if All you get are fave and run, what's the point of improving your writing? 
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SilhouettedRider's avatar
SilhouettedRider|Professional Writer
I do understand what you're saying. In order to improve, there has to be a definite want there. But seeing as the majority of story and poetry writers on dA write because they are passionate about it - to not receive comments at all, or even to just receive positive comments, can make improving your writing a very difficult feat. I mean, why take the time and effort to improve your writing, when you can just keep writing the same way and maintain the personal enjoyment of it?

Thankfully, in my group, Deviant-Writing, we are trying our best to overcome this 'fave and run' habit that everyone has got into. We do offer our folder which is the Feedback Loop, where in order to submit one of your own pieces, you need to comment on at least 2 pieces of literature that are already in that folder. That being said, there haven't been many submissions there in a while...

Alternatively, you can send a note to MEHERmeher who is our critique specialist, and always will strive to comment and critique on pieces of literature. If you send her a couple of links to your work, she will get back to you ASAP.

Lastly, there are our advisors of the group, who are BlizzardBlitzer and BowtiesAreCool15, and you can always talk to them about your struggles (and accomplishments) in writing and they can offer ways to help and improve, or even just take the time to chat with you to help raise your spirit a little.

I hope this helps? :) Just know that whatever you are going through, in Deviant-Writing, we are all writers, and we have all experienced the same or very similiar things. Now that we have upgraded to Super Group status, we are going to host a number of chat sessions in our new chatroom to help members get in touch with eachother, and also myself and the other admins, to simply discuss our writing and help one another. We may also start offering points (among other benefits) to those who comment on pieces of lit in our group. All I can offer is to keep going, and you should definitely have a chat with MEHERmeher, BowtiesAreCool15 and/or BlizzardBlitzer as they are brilliant people and I can guarantee that they are more than happy to help you. :huggle:
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TheHobbitArt's avatar
TheHobbitArt|Hobbyist General Artist
hey i finished my first chapter! You had expressed interest in reading it so I thought I would mention it. thehobbitart.deviantart.com/ar…
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