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About Literature / Hobbyist Member B))Female/United States Groups :iconscribe-refuge: Scribe-Refuge
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if you guys haven't figured it out yet, i've moved here: ramsaybolt0n!!!!!
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 ramsaybolt0n  Day at the Beach [Crycest] by ramsaybolt0noh, how they tear at you now by ramsaybolt0n   

and some literature !!!

can you help me occupy my brain?“I can’t do this anymore.”
Lucas takes another swig of his drink and sets it back on the table, gendering at Zoe with an obviously exhausted look. After a while of no one saying anything, he breaks the silence. “…Hm?”
Zoe sighs lightly. “I said I can’t fucking do this anymore.”
That swear caught Lucas a little off-guard. Maybe he is a little disoriented from the drink, because he feels slightly confused. Or maybe it was the Xanax from earlier. Whatever the case, it takes him a few seconds to register what she’s said. “I’m…what?”
“You heard me,” Zoe says firmly, averting her gaze from Lucas.
“No, yeah, I did, I just...” Lucas pauses, pulling his gaze unsurely from Zoe to the floor beneath him. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t. I just can’t, okay?” Zoe says, trembling a bit. Lucas watches, speechless. “Lucas, do you realize how hard this is for
  Aim for the Head (Prologue)Sometimes he still sees that perfect view before his own eyes, crisp and clear just like before, orange and purple and tinted pink. The buildings and apartments rose up from the ground like an army of soldiers, with straightened backs and a hard exterior, but an inside full of life. At night, the lights of the windows and cars in the streets twinkle in the darkness, effortlessly moving to the sound of the heartbeat, whatever that may have been. It just all seemed to come together in perfect harmony, so much so that even the blaring horns on trucks and sirens on police cars just seemed like another waver in the breaths of the bustling city.
And now, that picturesque scene in his mind is collecting dust.
Almost two weeks have gone by since the boy deserted his refugee camp to pursue a better future of his own doing. He wasn’t actually quite sure what he had hoped to accomplish, yet determination was held close to his heart. Even in the midst of a wave of terror, an apocalypse that
  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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Shadowwolf66667 Featured By Owner 6 days ago   Artist
Hello ouo

I was wondering if "fear stamps" are still open.
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