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About Literature / Hobbyist Member B))Other/United States Groups :iconscribe-refuge: Scribe-Refuge
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Deviant for 2 Years
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if you guys haven't figured it out yet, i've moved here: slinthead!!!!!
i moved about four and a half months ago and have improved a LOOOOOOT since then
some art pieces i'm particularly proud of:

enjoy life. I wish I could, but it's too late by slinthead  Day at the Beach [Crycest] by slintheadoh, how they tear at you now by slinthead   

and some literature !!!

   Virus!Cry HeadcanonBackstory: Virus is an escapee from a high-tech lab. He escaped when he finally gained human consciousness at what looked like adolescent age, but he's been locked in a cryogenic tank since the scientists finished constructing his outer body.
Having only basic knowledge of speech, physical activity and mannerisms, Virus had no idea where he'd go or where he'd end up. Any technology he touched thereafter seemed to make him more powerful, and he discovered that anything wired to a wall or a wireless network he could easily travel through. Older systems were much more intricate and confusing, though.
After meeting Cry by ending up coming through his monitor and into his home, he opens up and tells Cry about his past. Cry accepts him into his home. Virus wonders why Cry is the only person who's been able to see or hear him.
.      .     .   .   .     .      .
Personality: Virus's normal attitude is neutral with a sto
  he is all that is leftThe stormy air around him blows against nothing. He is all that is left, but he is nothing. He watched all his two thousand men being slashed and crushed and flayed without a word, but it was as if he couldn’t move, like someone chewed him up and spat him out and he’s still struggling to put the pieces back together. So many people died; Jaime Lannister put a sword through his best friend’s eye and out the back of his skull. Theon is all that is left.
(that’s all the truth i know)
Wind swirls around the battlefield and the dolor, foul scent of blood and death follows its path. It attacks Theon’s nostrils and makes him sick; sicker than he already is with himself. The picturesque green of the miles and miles of open space is green no more; the blood of all the dead men had painted it a dark crimson, the banners stuck in the ground wave tiredly on hilltops, as if they’d heard and seen enough, and the groans and screams of men left alive sound en

i'll also be making some stamps if you guys are still interested in that uwu

so just expect some stuff that's a lot better than what i have here lmao
any support - favorite, comment, or watch - would be much appreciated!! i'm trying to improve in my writing, so i'd be very happy is you were to read my things and critique me ;u;

bye for now, hope you hear from you on this new account uwu

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