Hanachi-Shitsukki

cyanide signs on vitriol glass

77 Watchers98 Deviations

18.9K

Pageviews

Collections

All

515 deviations

Literature

93 deviations

Traditional

41 deviations

Digital

51 deviations

Photography

65 deviations

Sculpture and Crafts

4 deviations

Comics Memes and Fun

18 deviations

Tutorials

21 deviations

For me

6 deviations

HEAVY METAL - DeviantART issue

Sep 20, 2013

Okay... We played a little last year about doing a collaboration between Heavy Metal and DeviantART. We got some guys on the back covers, we got a few articles in the mag, but we need to step up the game a little. It is so hard to get your work published these days and thank god Kevin Eastman understands that. So having put together some special issues of Heavy Metal recently I pitched Kevin on forgetting the idea of a few DeviantART pin-ups or a gallery... Instead we'll do an entire issue of Heavy Metal from the DeviantART community. Yup, 100 pages of dA goodness wrapped in slick glossy paper. We're going to aim for an issue as soon

Journals and News

8 deviations

He Who Bared His Fangs at God by SomethingOnceSacred, literature

the three little pigs: a deconstruction. by chezdispenser, literature

Literature

the three little pigs: a deconstruction.

somedays you're the first pig doing the best you can with what little you've managed to scrape together and though you're up at night, worried about what your poor life choices might mean for the future of you and your meager little corner of the universe, at least you have a (straw) roof to stare at for now, your mind whispers, giggling hideously, and you turn over and try to sleep again somedays you're the second pig vaguely aware that you've settled for mediocrity; all those dreams you had of a bigger, better life are buried beneath your pillow and every night you experience them again, only to have them flee in the morning right bef

For the Boatman by SomethingOnceSacred, literature

Literature

For the Boatman

Charon, I still keep the constellations in jars. You will not take me across the Acheron, so I wait on the river bank, trying to steal pennies from other passengers. I hear them clinking in your hull, ferryman, forgotten and oxidized. You call me by my name, even now. "Persephone is dead, and her king never heard you crying out as I have." I sang a hymn for you, Charon, but you only smiled and turned away. Charon, have you met the slighted king? When he called, I answered, but his memory was just as rotten as mine. I had loved him with my own shadow, once. Ferryman, have you ever been in love? "Stay on the shore. There are those who would

slowly, and then all at once by A-Lovely-Anxiety, literature

Literature

slowly, and then all at once

and for once, he slips on his wedding ring, to cure the monotony. it slides over his knuckle, a perfect fit, and in the morning release of sunlight the silver gleams at him. it glares, calling him a liar: she is not a whorehouse and you are too broke to own her, you harlot, you. he buttons up, tucks in his shirt tail, and buckles his belt. the clinking of metal parts is the only sound in the room besides the dusting of her breathing beside him. and when he's gone, the only thing he leaves behind are the bruises on her collarbone. - you find him because you're lonely, (well, it's actually the opposite.) he finds you because his wardrob

A l'emotion... by SuzelH, literature

Literature

A l'emotion...

Les prémices d'une décomposition Du rêve de l'ange qui ne saute pas En délices et troubles émanations D'un enfer qui ne brûlerait pas. Tout est scindé, coupé, friable Mis dans de petites cases, si sécable, Et pourtant le monde, qui se veut un, S'effrite lentement, Oh pauvre Diable. Est-ce un rêve qui n'en finirait pas, Si hermétique, indéchiffrable Où l'arraison des indécents Brise la pudeur des faibles âmes, Ou bien un cauchemar de limbes boueuses Si épaisses qu'on y verrait trop bien Les fils de fer qui lient les vives marionnettes

your seraphim veins by autumn-spirit, literature

Literature

your seraphim veins

Firewood sparks crackle in your irises, glowing like a pretty little swearword. And I ask where you came from, lover; from the aging spring moon or the shipyards outside of town where we found each other, that first night, when your hands were cold around my waist and our breaths were coming out hot in impatient gasps of poetic escapism, as you kissed me under the lamppost pretense of wanting to head on home.. Are we just a little too far gone, lost in a swirl of colorful smoke in some Wonderland type of game, where we're both so young and stupid, thinking we can make anything erupt in flames, in dried out candle wicks, life, and each oth

Love as an Asthmatic by UntamedUnwanted, literature

don't say no by your-methamphetamine, literature

Literature

don't say no

they had said, long before i met you that the truth is known for its characteristic punch in the gut; it picks at the skin on your forehead till it peels off like the zest of a pregnant orange, bitter on your fingers but so sweet on your tongue. pain is a typical symptom of truth but no one ever said that you would exhaust the sweetness by the time it was my turn to listen.

Safe by violetense, literature

2 3

10 Next