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About Traditional Art / Student Member Amber Lee GreyFemale/United Kingdom Groups :iconglobalotaku: Globalotaku
 
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Field by Snuffsk
by Snuffsk

First of all, this is really, really amazing, good job! For the vision, the contrast of the black and white cat, (Rail, is it?) and the...


For a start, good job! This OC is actually quite cool, but don't read on if you can't take a few...Rules, as such. Without getting Mary...

Remember Me as I Was by jess-michele

First of all, I absolutely love this piece! As for vision, I find the simplicity just beautiful- with no distracting background of othe...

Current eye style by Danathekitsune

I don't know what animal/human or thing you are using this for, (it looks a little like 'My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic' style), b...

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Hey guys. I'm working on a new story here (it's not fanfiction 0-0)
That's a new thing, right? Ha, I'm still writing 'Insanity Symptoms', though. So, this story is about a schizophrenic teenager called Louise, and what happens in her life. She also has a condition called Synesthesia, which I am more experienced with. I did a various amount of research on the mental disorders, although I'm not an expert. I appreciate people pointing out incorrect symptoms or behaviour, as I obviously need guidance on the subjects of synesthesia and schizophrenia.
Oh, it's also set in Germany (That's why she speaks German >:P

Well, enjoy of you can, and thank-you for reading everyone!


The Stars Are Flying ---  Chapter 1

Hi. My name's Louise, short for Louisiana, but I hate that name. People whom I affiliate with call me Lutz. That's because it's how I used to say Louise when I was first learning to talk. I'd forget the O, and the I, and it would come out as something like, 'Luze', and my parents laughed until I got so used to it that I wouldn't happily respond to Louise anymore. If people call me anything but, I prefer Lou. This particular woman that I am about to talk about refused to call me any of that; she insisted on Louisiana. I despise the name, and I decided very soon that I despised the woman even more so.

I wasn't normal, see: I could hear voices in my head at night, and they told me to do things, things I shouldn't have been doing. The thing that struck fear into the hearts of my parents was when I turned 7;
I was found attempting to tell Conan, my 4-year-old brother that the ghosts under my rug in my bedroom were after us, and we had to leave. Right away. He refused to leave until he was given his 'supper'- I was only appalled because it was 4am, and I resorted to dragging him along with me, and soon, the voices grew bored:

'Leave him! If you kill them, they can't hurt you'

Them? I presumed the ghosts, all the time trying to force myself to get back to bed; I was scaring my brother, listening to his crying. He didn't seem sure wether to cling to me or stand there and tremble. He decided soon to run, yelling for our mother and father in panic.
The voice then somehow made me go searching through the kitchen for the matches that my mind was seeking out. Matches. The word tastes like burned bark when I hear it, and it's colour is a dark, brittle yellow ochre. We'll discuss why I taste words and I see sounds later; I'm telling a story you need to remember.
Anyways, I found the matches, and upon the command of, 'Light it!', I did as I was told:
Sparks shot from the end of the match as I struck it, and a sharp line of orange splattered across my vision: Smoke. Orange was the colour of smoke to me, and it tasted like dark chocolate. I hate dark chocolate.

I heard other voices then, that of my parents screaming at me. These voices were real, but I couldn't obey them, I couldn't trust them, or so my corrupting invisible controller was telling me. I flinched as my mother stopped still for the first time in her life. It was a shock; my mother was built like some kind of brick shithouse, with broad shoulders and strong hands, and she flailed her arms around, screaming and grasping my brother in her shaking arms. My father was not so easily defeated: He stormed over, grabbing me by my long hair, and he dragged me away as I screamed, hitting whatever I could, and it was then that I threw the match, aiming for a vase of flowers on a windowsill by the door. It fell short and landed, most conveniently in the sink, and it singed out. The sound tasted like brittle sugar on my tongue, and it made me gag. 
My mother assumed that it was my father who caused me to do that, and she yelled at him then, other than screaming at me:
"You're hurting her! Just let her go!"
"Let go of her? So she can set the house on fire?!" he roared back, and I started crying then, dragging myself away from him and running to my mother's open arms, sobbing. She held me and shook her head, "She only had a nightmare...She must have been sleepwalking".

That's why I love my mother so much; she never truly disliked me, even after that, and she always made excuses for the behaviour I could not excuse, especially when my father decided that he wasn't going to bother reasoning with me. She loved me, and she always told me so, every day. My father loves me too, I know he does, he just can't love what goes on in my mind. It wasn't the first time I did something that the invisible people told me to do.

The next day, he called the woman in.
Her name was Susan. Ugh. It tasted like chewing on tin foil when she introduced herself, and that was what I tasted whenever she was mentioned afterwards. As a 7-year-old, I didn't quite know why she was here. I was instructed to call her Susan, as much as I hated saying it (Tin foil doesn't taste good). Her colour was a murk black-green colour, like a swamp. I don't see many people that are swamp green. I'm serious. Her voice tasted like I'd just sprayed Dior perfume in my throat, and I coughed as a result, and she laughed as she retracted her outstretched hand, curling her grey, old fingers together and resting them over her lower abdominal area. I looked at the rings she was wearing; they were the only things that were a pleasure for me to look at that had come into contact with her foul persona.

"Of course, she is shy. I'm a stranger after all. Come with me, will you, Louisiana?" she asked, her voice like the perfume that I tasted when I first heard her.
"Lutz" I replied simply, and I saw my father lower his eyes at me, and I stared back with my hollow emerald optics. It was what I preferred to be called, just as this...Woman (As it was clarified to be, apparently) preferred to be called Susan. This was my house, and she was leaving her horrific Dior and tin foil everywhere. I followed her into my living room, where she placed herself upon our white leather corner sofa, her grey hair cut into a curled up-do, which looked like a dead cat had been wrapped around a brick. Her earrings were like coils of chicken wire and peacock-coloured chandelier. Her eyeshadow was done to match the disgusting earrings, and everywhere from her fake, yanked-out lashes to her hugely arched eyebrows was engaged in stained-glass window cosplay. Her ancient face was caked in make-up.
"What was that, dear?" 
Perfume again.
"Lutz. My name is Lutz"
"No, dear, your name is Louisiana"
"Well, your name is actually Madame Grundelle" (Yes, that was her surname. It screams swamp. It must have been horrid for her, considering that Grun means Green in German, my first language. Green was her colour too, vomit and swamp green. She absolutely SCREAMED 'foul')

I paused as she raised her left eyebrow to an even greater height, and I continued, 
"But you prefer Susan. I prefer Lutz. Is it so hard to agree with?" I asked simply, raising an eyebrow to mirror her (Only I didn't now look like Jabba The Hut)
With a fake, metallic laugh, like a coin being shaken inside a glass cup, she shook her head.
"Of course dear; you are right. From this moment on, you shall refer to me as Madame Grundelle, and I'll call you Louisiana, OK?"
"Nein" I objected. The French witch probably didn't know what that meant. This pleased me.
"Schwierig sein, nicht" she replied with a smirk.
Don't be difficult? How very dare she tell me not to be difficult!
To ice the swamp flavoured cake, she could speak German. This meant that I couldn't curse her.
"Es tut mir leid" I replied. Why was I apologising?
"Speak to me in English" she commanded, and I nodded, 
"J- Yes, Ma'am" I said obediently, cutting off my signature native reply as I felt my father's stare on my as he sat on the sofa, a few cushions away from this lethal excuse of a woman. He watched me, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, hands linked together, just as Susan's were, and he stared at me with his piercing blue eyes. 

"So, Louisiana, I'm going to make this as easy for you as possible, is that alright?"
"Lutz isn't slow, Ma'am" my mother offered, stood in the doorway, wearing her apron. She was baking cookies and cake. I smiled at her, looking up from where I was sat atop the leather foot rest, as far from the woman as I could.
"I highly doubt she is, Rosa, but I wasn't implying that" she lied. I could taste lies. This helped considerably with people like this. It was easier with people with certain colours and flavours. For example, I'm oblivious to my father's lies; lies taste like coffee, and don't smell of anything, or have a colour that's bright. The colour of lies is a near transparent ice blue, that I often miss, no matter how hard I try. My father's voice just happens to taste like coffee, and his name is the flavour of coffee, too. His voice is blue, and he overall smells like leather, which fits him perfectly. Daniel. Tastes like expensive cars and coffee, doesn't it? He loves both.

The woman continued then, turning back to me, and she opened her mouth.
"So, Louisiana...Can you tell me about the people who talk to you?"
I was tempted to say, 'Well, my parents, Monika from school-' but I stuck to the programme, to make it hopefully end quicker.
"Well...One's called 7..."
"Right..?"
"And another- there are three- Is 5..."
"OK" she said, taking a note on a black clipboard. It matched her suit: A black jacket and trousers, both with grey pinstripes, and a white blouse, just poking out of the top of her buttoned jacket. I continued.
"And the last one..."
"Go on"
"..."

 This was the worst one; 7 had told me to set fire to the house, 7 tells me about ghosts. 5 makes me scream and pull fits, and...
"Louise-" My father barks, and I sigh,
"9. The last number is 9"
"What's so bad about 9?"
"Well...5 is the OK one...5 always says that I should have tantrums, you know, get angry over nothing. It also tells me to stay away from people..."
"Who?"
"Sometimes my parents, people at school..."
"OK"
"5 says I should isolate myself, but sometimes, I can ignore that one for a long time, then it goes away"
"OK, that's good. What does 7 do?"
"It tells me to try and get rid of ghosts"
"Can you see the ghosts?"
"Oh, no. I don't believe in ghosts"
"Then why does 7 effect you?"
"It's what it tells me to do to get rid of them. Like the match...It would smoke them out. I can't stop 7 very much, but I try. Certain things make 7 stop"
"Like?"
"My mother...Shouting...Milk..."
"Milk?"
She says it like I said 'Oh, you know, pornography'

"Milk is my favourite drink...It calms me down, it's how I numb 5 out sometimes, but 7 sometimes keeps going, but if I distract myself enough, or like I say, drink milk, I concentrate on the taste and the colour, and..."
"Colour?"
"White clears my mind"
A quickly brewed up excuse; only my parents knew that I saw smells and such, and my father had instructed that I  'Keep quiet about it'
"Ah, OK. That makes sense. Now, how about 9?"
I took a deep breath, looking down.


"9...Tells me to kill people"


----~***~----


---------------------------------------Chapter 2----------------------------------------------


Swamp woman left soon after that, hurrying out and saying that she'd send my 'results' to some French doctor by the name of Francis. Seems legit. I was confused at that point, for as she heard what 9 did, her eyes grew wide and fearful, her eyebrows practically in her hair, and she literally jumped to her feet, scuttling out of the living room. She scribbled frantically on the board, heels clcking, and I heard something smash in the kitchen as I admitted what 9 did. The glass cascaded luminous green sparks across my eyes, and I winced as the taste of sour sweets and sharp tangs of alcohol (I didn't know at that time, but I now diagnose it as vodka), flushed over my tongue. I rushed into the hall after her, and I folded my arms across my slim frame. "You asked!" I announced, my eyes wide as I bit back my tears. My father took hold of my shoulder, standing in front of me in his black suit. He nearly mirrored the woman as she dragged the door open, shoving a card into my father's hand, and she dragged in breath, swallowing hard. "I'll have her diagnosis by Saturday".
It was Wednesday.
I started to panic then. 

Conan ran out of the dining room, discarding his toy car onto the wood floor with a sharp crash and an eruption of orange sparks. The sourness was drowned out by a painful bitter taste then, and I swallowed hard. Forgetting last night, he began sobbing, jumping into my arms and clinging to me. I held him tightly, hiding my face in his dark hair, tears running down my cheeks as he snuggled his face into my shoulder. You might be asking how a 7-year-old is holding a 4-year-old right now, and Conan wasn't the lightest child on the planet. I was strong, though, with a grip of iron and strong arms, like my mother, who was gathering the remains of a thin champagne glass from the stone floor in the kitchen. Her face was twisted in slight anger and sheer panic then, and this was too much pain and negative colours and tastes and scents for me to cope. As soon as the woman left, the colours really set in:

Greens and oranges all over, practically blinding me, and I gasped in my short breaths, Conan whispering my name between sobs, tugging on my shirt. I couldn't listen to him, though; I was too busy trying to link the colours to the tastes: Sharp sourness and pure metallic tonic, with edges that were like the saltiness of blood and copper. Not knowing what else to do, I put him down gently, much to his despair, and I put a hand on my forehead, the other hand on the closest wall. My head felt like I was being intercepted from my sanity and self-control, and I experienced something similar to what felt like nails being hammered into my skull, and with nothing else to do, I screamed.

It sounded like I'd been hit straight-on by a speeding car, and I continued to wail, any breath I took in being forced back out in a high-pitched format. The colours in my eyes twisted to ultraviolet brightness, and I fell back as my mother rushed over, grasping me in her arms. I just screamed more as voices started to flood into my head, something I recognised as number 5, and I only panicked more then, pushing my mother less than gently away. I didn't know my own strength when this happened. I now call it a 'Sensory Overload', because that's what it is, literally. 

'You're just a monster...Get away from her! Do you want to hurt your own mother?'

The voice was cruelly calm in my head, and I shook my head in response, choking out a pathetic "No! I-I-"

'Well then, get away!' 

It cut me off, and I ran past my mother and my father, who grabbed for me, yelling my name in bursts of red sparks. I flung the door open, speeding into the street, blind to anything going on around me, and because of this, I ran straight forward into the middle of the road. This resulted in me colliding head-on with Mr.Robson's Mini Cooper as it took a corner, and he slammed the breaks, beeping the horn like it made a difference. I just screamed as I felt it crash into me, smashing into my right arm and forcing me back. Nothing hurt but my arm, which was bent back in an unnatural angle, and my head, which I had apparently hit as I was thrown to the ground. It was lucky we lived in a cul-de-sac, because if the road was straight and he hadn't taken a corner just as I ran out, I'm sure I'd never have been able to use my writing hand again.
My mother's petrified screams shot sparks across my visions, much like the stars that had flown across my eyes as I was thrown to the ground. My vision clouded just as Conan ran to me, collapsing on my chest and crying for me, sobbing my name, oblivious to the blood that coated the side of my face. My father was the last one I saw, and I felt him lift me into his arms before I lost sense of anything, the tastes and the voices fading away, along with the colours of the world.



----~***~----



---------------------------------------Chapter 3----------------------------------------------

I awoke in a bleached white room, covered over by a white sheet, and as I took it in, it soon came to my attention that I was in a hospital. I was glad the room was so white; There were nearly no colours in there, and the calming tone of the colour made it easier for me to concentrate. I sat up slowly, and as I attempted to move my right arm to brush my scarlet hair from my face, I found that it felt heavy in comparison to the rest of my body, of which I wriggled around experimentally, just to make sure that I could move the rest of my limbs. I was relieved to find that my legs and left arm were still in full function, and I gently brushed the few stray wisps of my hair away from my emerald optics, which were adjusting to the bright light. 
"Mother?" I asked, looking around. That was when I noticed my arm: Bandaged into a cast and bent so that it looked like I was permanently folding one arm at a right-angle. The stupid pointless coloured fabric that covered it was a green-blue turquoise shade, which was obviously of my mother's choosing. I smiled; she chose my favourite colour. Turquoise was her colour, the colour of her name and her words. Her voice tasted like blue raspberry bonbons, and her overall scent was like the ocean, the calm saltiness of the sea, and the sand. 

I could hear the bright violet of my brother's voice as it seeped through the door, and I opened my mouth to breathe it in; the taste of his voice was so calming to me. His colour was a pastel lilac, and his scent was that of warm milk and honey, and that was how his voice tasted, too. His name tasted like peppermint, and smelled the same, like a candy-cane. The bitterness of my father's voice flooded out the mint with black coffee and the icy blue ribbons of his voice eliminated my brother's lilac. I sighed, unable to see my own colour or smell my own voice, and I looked at my arm again, memories flooding back into my brain as I recalled what happened. Damn you, number 5.

I was snapped out of my thoughts as a tall woman in a white coat paced in, pushing a trolley full of torture equipment out of the way of Conan, who charged across the polished, white floor. Stars erupted from the clashing metal on the trolley as Conan filled the room with the honey sweetness of his laughs as he ran to me, calling my name and jumping up on the bed, wrapping his arms around my neck. He was quickly pulled away by my father, and the laughing died away as my mother called Conan gently, peppermint mixing with blue raspberry as he backed away and was scooped into her arms. She stood there, her wide shoulders slipping into a slim, curved waist, and bending back out into her hips. Her ruby hair cascaded over her shoulders in masses of ringlets, past her waist, glistening in the light. Her hair was what got her her name- Rosa. Hair like roses, just like mine, but mine was more straight until you got to the ends, and it curled into ringlets, but only slightly. Our eyes were the same, though: green as emeralds. 

Conan looks like our father, with his short, curly mop of dark chocolate hair and his blue eyes. His hair wasn't as short as father's, probably because he had his gelled and cut religiously so it only just goes past his ears. Conan's is about halfway down his neck, not quite long enough to make him look like a girl, because we tried that once, and let it go past his shoulders, much to father's despair. He got mistook for a girl at school, and he had it cut shorter less than 6 hours later, not that it bothered him what gender he was labelled as; he never spoke, anyway. He was nearly silent unless it was me he was talking to, and he often ignored his self-proclaimed girlfriend whom he went to Kindergarten with. He expressed himself through artwork and various animal noises when he was at school, mainly because his passions consisted of paint and nature's wonders. He knew about all kinds of animals, especially reptiles and snakes, and he loved slapping paint around and drawing, even though you had to be careful when guessing just what it was that he'd painted; dad had once mistook our Crayola crayon family portrait as a group of pineapples. That had led to me adapting a 15-minute-long laughing disorder, and Conan crying and spending the rest of the day under his bed until dad bought him a rubber lizard to apologise. He named the lizard Phillip, because...You know...It looked like a Phillip, and it's now his most prized possession, just behind Kevin, the plush anaconda that he sleeps with.

After a few seconds of looking me over, I took a breath, and my father wrapped his arms around me, breathing in the scent of my hair, and for a second, he looked like he was going to cry. That would've been silly, now that I consider it, because he didn't even cry when Conan had a funeral for Franklin, the house spider, who had died via my dad flushing him down the toilet. He hadn't meant to, but Franklin had gone for a walk in the bathroom, and dad had just...Well, dropped him down the loo. To be fair, Aunt Glad (We call her that because she's constantly smiling) was coming over in an hour, and she has a crippling fear of anything with more than 2 legs. 

I smiled as I wrapped my working arm around his shoulders, and he stood up quickly, brushing off his suit and clearing his throat, and looked at my broken arm and the padded bandage that had been taped to the cut on my forehead. I had discovered that by looking at the mirror on the medical trolley which the nurse had wheeled beside my bed before she left with a silent nod, and I had looked myself over, leaning across the table and trying to ignore the instruments that were sprawled across the shiny, cold metal.  
My mother then released Conan, who scampered toward me at a slower pace, and I had leaned over the edge of the hard, shiny metal of the bed frame, and wrapped my good arm around him, kissing his cheek as he laughed, still not saying anything to me.

"How long was I asleep?" I asked, remembering that the last thing I'd felt was that I'd fallen asleep, and it was quite scary, because I'd heard that it wasn't good to sleep if you hit your head, because there was a chance that you might not wake up again, or sleep for years on end.
"Only just over a day, darling...They thought you were about to wake up when they put the cast on your arm, but you didn't"
"Which made sense, considering that she would have woken up within the same hour that she fell unconcious " my father pointed out, matter-of-factly.  
Conan spoke up then, though not very loudly:
"Are we going home?" he asked, still stood beside my bed, holding my hand comparing how small his hand was in comparison to mine. 
"Of course we are; we're going home right now" my father decided.

And we did.
The Stars Are Flying (Chapters 1-3)
We'll, not much to say about this one. It's been fun so far, though. Lutz is an awesome character to write about, and I'm pretty fond of Conan, too!
Thank - you so much for reading!
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If I wrote X-readers for anime and fandoms, would you guys read them?
what the fuck is this?! FACEBOOK?!?!
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(Contains: violence/gore, strong language and ideologically sensitive material)
Insanity Symptoms --- Bonus Chapter/Chapter 4.5 --- Initiation

I've seen so much...
Don't you think I've suffered enough?

This chapter is a short one focusing on the Fem! Countries, namely Louise in this chapter (I call her that, to some of you, she may be Monika or whatever, but I call Fem!Germany Louise. Deal with it),

INITIATE INTRODUCTION


Hey guys! I suppose you thought this was discontinued...Well, surprise motherfuckers, because it ain'!
I found an awesome song by the name of, 'Initiation' by an awesome band called 'Crown The Empire'
Listen to that whilst you're reading; It adds to the atmosphere, plus, you'll see the inspiration it gave me.
This chapter is mostly based back on earth, separate from our little tortured babies back in Avalon.
ENJOY THE CHAOS, FREAKS!!!

( VERY IMPORTANT INFORMATION****  
This contains VERY sensitive material that recalls historical events and describes events related and based upon those events that some audiences may find offensive/a sensitive topic to be exposed to. I do not approve of the intentions of the events that this chapter is based on, and this is a non-profit addition to the story, and although based upon those events, this is in no way stereotyping the country or it's residents, and is not placed into the literature to simply offend or cause guilt upon the effected audience, it is for plot purposes ONLY, and is, again, not here to target such people.
Any comments regarding the issue in an offensive manner or 'bashing' the events will be hidden and the user will be reported. Any other comments are very much appreciated))

------------------------------------------------

Earth, Germany, year 7666, October 27th.
Planetary state: Ruin

The dry, grey mixture of dust and ash that covered the ground in a thick layer was scraped out of shape by the marks of thousands of pairs of heavy-duty combat boots and the grooves and contours of human corpses. Once, this was a capital city, with grand architecture and towering golden gates, and a city adorned with lights and a sense of pride. Louise had once walked those streets, back straight, stood at her full height, a smirk decorating her face as she admired her work. It was something that she was immensely proud to call her country. 
But that was a whole year ago.
Now, what she had once called her flesh and blood, was a barren wasteland littered by only smashed glass and bodies, blood streaking the walls and floors of every building. The city was drained of the life and happiness it had once beheld, and she could have cried for it, even though she knew that her tears wouldn't make anything  grow as they splattered into the dirt, and they wouldn't wash away the blood that stained her hands. 

The woman let out a quiet grunt as she dragged her face out of the ash, and shook her head, ridding her hair and eyes of dust. What once looked like a proud girl with golden hair and azure eyes, was now a broken, crippled child, her hair more dull sand yellow than golden, her eyes a faded shade of grey, just like her country. Grey and red. Her skin was mostly red; stained with now dry life blood. It had been mere days since the 'Resistance'. This was basically what had finished the country off, really; since her male counterpart had left for Avalon, the country had took the idea of a female leader a little harshly, and huge arguments had broken out. Soon, war wracked the nation, civil disagreements finishing off most of the broken, weak citizens. That was when the remnants of France and Austria had joined in, hoping in vain to die with at least loyal honour. Louise had not been lucky enough to die. When the war broke out, Germany decided that it was a country again, forgot it's arguments, and joined together against Austria and France. Why had Austria turned against them? They blamed Germany and the Axis for Contrito, apparently, and they had 'never been part of the Axis Powers'.
"Fucking liars..." Louise spat as she sat up and observed the remains of the once towering buildings. The recollections of events reeled through her brain at rapid rates, making her head ache.

She had promised herself that she wouldn't fight in that war, and when she joined the 'Initiation', the new army, she had promised herself that she wouldn't try. But the sudden faith and pride of her country had in her had overpowered her selfish desires to die; she couldn't leave them, somehow...They had left her, but after you'd seen a mother and her child be shot and eaten by an insane psychopath of an Austrian runaway (who later threw himself off what remained of the gates), it was a wonder that she felt anything at all. The initiation was a brutal training course, in which people were reformed. What little food and water was left in Germany was put into that programme, in vain hope to keep at least half the cadets alive. Louise was apparently the leader of the organisation, much to her despair, and had almost given up when she watched her sister be killed by a 14 year old boy for a bottle of water; that was their motivation, life. To find the strongest of the group, they were basically released upon something stupid, like water or food, something they needed, and basically beat each other to death to get it, to survive another day. 

They were trying to scrape together a small perfection.
Something that they all knew they couldn't be.
Someone had tried to do that once, and Louise didn't want to be associated with leading something with the same intentions. 

After a few months of the torture, a mechanical voice had cascaded through the rotting walls of the centre: "Warning, this is not a drill, I will repeat, this is not a drill", the warning was followed up by the sounds of bullets shattering glass, and French cursing echoing along the walls. A child screamed for her mother as someone dragged her away from the sudden brawl, which was now a mix of French swearing and German yelling. Nothing said or done that day was worth the bloodshed. A pained scream cut through the yells as the child realised that her mother was the woman with the semi-automatic machine gun who was now climbing atop the roof, releasing showers of bullets and smashing out the brains of what she assumed were French army members. Not that it mattered who they were.

This was her call to arms.
It was stupid, but war was war, when Louise thought of it simply: It didn't matter what for anymore. She needed to die. And she was going to die clad in a green military uniform with the black, red and gold of her flag on her arms.
Louise realised that she had no other choice then as she grasped a random weapon from the firearms category, and leaped up onto the highest platform she could find: a laboratory style table, and she screamed, punching the air above her,
"Feuer Frei!". Open fire.
They'd opened fire, alright, and what followed could only be described as two things: An omnibus of brutal killing sprees, or a more simple variation of the phrase known simply as; war.

Now, she was still alive. She was Goddamned alive. Why couldn't it be the end? She didn't want to die angry, but it was hard now, after what she once described as her 'Partner' had abandoned her with no words. Louise and Ireland had known each other well; they were good friends, but still, did he have to leave because 'Ireland and Italy are going'?
What about her?
She pretended she didn't need him, but truly, she didn't know what lonely was until he left her that day.
"It's your fault...You should see this place, Ludwig, you should see it now!!" she screamed to no-one in particular. The person mentioned couldn't hear her, she knew that, but if he was in the heaven that was named Avalon right now, and that was just a tunnel underground, she was going to try:
"Fucking bastard!! This is YOUR fault, you freak!" she wailed, fighting tears in her eyes.
"Julchen is dead, I want to be DEAD, like MY country! This place isn't yours anymore, you hear? IT WILL NEVER BE YOURS AGAIN!"
She stopped to breath, and grabbed the closest 'weapon', which was apparently a chunk of concrete, and she launched it into no apparent target.  
"ARE YOU FUCKING LISTENING?!?!" Louise demanded, looking around as though the person that she was screaming cruel abuse at was going to walk up behind her for no reason. Nothing was for a reason anymore. 

'Take my broken wings, it will help me out,
Shred out my heart, you can help rip it out...'

She remembered those words, the words that Russia had announced with no explanation after the 'Chosen' Countries had left for Avalon. When he shut the portal off, and Louise had wondered what it meant, but now, she got it.
This needed to end.
She needed to realise that she had a limit.
She was as broken as her country, and she sneered then; she had one final word for the world, one last sentence:
"I'm Germany. ME. ME AND ONLY ME" 
With that, Louise staggered across the earth several metres, until she reached the huge cliff that had once been part of Berlin, and what was now a huge gap in the country that was slowly filling with water from the slowly rising oceans. It had been blown out by several meteors shortly after Contrito had begun. The cracks that it had caused had literally split Germany apart, so it was more a border than anything else, but it was referred to simply as, 'The Hole', when anyone was alive to talk about it. The huge crater looked to be about 20 stories deep, and twice as wide in circumference. With a smirk, Louise took a few steps back, and took what she wanted to be the fastest sprint in her life to the edge of the crater, and she jumped.

No second thoughts. 
Just a sickening crack that no one heard.


Half of her partner died that day.
If we kissed:

[] This wouldn't happen.
[] Oh disgusting.
[] Again, again.
[] Kiss you back.
[] Let’s take this to the bedroom.
[] Slap/Push you away.
[] Be confused

If you asked me out I'd say:

[] Um no.
[] I’m taken-
[] Sure.
[] HOLY ASDFGHJK YESSSSS.

Can we cuddle?:

[] No.
[] Ew.
[] Sure.
[] YES.

Sex?:

[] Let’s do it.
[] No. You can’t handle my d.
[] FUCK YES.
[] No.

Should you re-post this?:

[] Yes. I want to send you one.
[] Yes.
[] No.

deviantID

amber1700
Amber Lee Grey
Artist | Student | Traditional Art
United Kingdom
Romania Journal Doll by Roro-Romania

Obtest, the beautiful child of Object and Protest.

'what's that abomination stuck to the top of your neck, and how do I make it illegal? '

I'm bishrekxual
SHREK is love...
SHREK is life...

Sleep? Don't be ridiculous; I have Rammstein, I can sleep when I'm dead!

GerIta OTP Stamp by World-Wide-Shipping The Axis OT3 Stamp by World-Wide-Shipping Rammstein Stamp by ZeKRoBzS
You Shouldn't be Dating by Haters-Gonna-Hate-Me Request - German Stereotypes by Haters-Gonna-Hate-Me Italy Stereotype by Haters-Gonna-Hate-Me
Kinder egg stamp by KingdomKira Opinion Stamp by DevilKue Freak: Stamp by JazzaX A stamp Underwater by vasselli Boot Stamp by RPDOfficer I love being naked by OnyxNocturne Stamp: Nudity by 8manderz8 Then DO Something by RingtailFox Hetalia animation stamp by Naru-Nisa Stamp: give FCs a chance by Jeshika-Haruno Go away reading stamp by thebluemaiden Shut Up, Government and Gaybashers by RingtailFox
Hetalia Fan by dragon-sigma Hetalia Stamp by CrowMaiden Cereal Stamp by Kezzi-Rose
For all calm Spamano fans by Tea-Strawberry For all calm RoChu fans by Tea-Strawberry Vegan Stamp by SaturnFinger I love animals: meat version by paramoreSUCKS yummy by Dametora just so you know by Dametora Victimizing Victims by Dametora Stamp- Depression by Dametora Pull Your Goddamn Pants Up by alaska-is-a-husky screw the wolf by sJ-eP Animal Rights by alaska-is-a-husky Misunderstood by ClockworkStamps Sparkledogs Stamp 2 by linawifeofL Sparklefags by linawifeofL Unicorn Stamp by linawifeofL I'm Awkward by So-Dae Toys Stamp by KingdomKira BREAD stamp by PurpleTartan WHAT THE HELL. by LainaofthesandLOL I Love Meatballs by So-Dae {Limited Edition} by xXtoxic-infectionXx {Investigating} by xXtoxic-infectionXx {Fuckin Awesome} by xXtoxic-infectionXx I wear converse! stamp by iFreak0ut
Eat my dust by OnyxNocturne No coffee, DUBSTEP by CCpotteranimator Electronic Stamp of luuuuvv by TehZee I love techno stamp by ewotion String Lights by skinnyveestamp - N - E - O - N - by skinnyveestamp
Beliefs by Haters-Gonna-Hate-Me Japan Stereotype by Haters-Gonna-Hate-Me Sorry, Weeaboos by Chynbek
Encouraging Free-Thinking by Rebi-Valeska Animu stamp by Daakukitsune Encouraging Free-Thinking by Rebi-Valeska
I'd hit that stamp by Daakukitsune Bad example stamp by Daakukitsune People will die by Daakukitsune
Stamp: Potatoes by MixedSin SUPPORT POTATOES by ROBlNHOOD PruAust OTP Stamp by World-Wide-Shipping Stamp: Crown the empire by Ashley44598X BMTH Logo by freakenstein1313 Bring me the Horizon by old-mc-donald Three Days Grace by old-mc-donald Killswitch engage by old-mc-donald Of Mice and Men Stamp by scellix Suicide Silence Stamp by ScarsOfFreedom BVB Army by freakenstein1313 Suicide Silence STAMP by xMuffin-Wen Crown The Empire Stamp by Flynnux Alice In Chains Stamp by dA--bogeyman 30 Seconds To Mars Stamp by Kyoakuno Hole - Doll Parts Stamp 1 by dA--bogeyman Killswitch Engage Stamp by Kezzi-Rose Mindless Self Indulgence Stamp by Lady-Tuuli Difficult defenitions. by Snuf-Stamps are you? by Snuf-Stamps Sluts by Sparkleee-Sprinkle Hollywood Undead Stamp by Flynnux Stamp by GothicNai Beautiful Loser Stamp by dA--bogeyman Youth Gone Wild Stamp by dA--bogeyman Iron Maiden Stamp by Kezzi-Rose Sleeping With Sirens Stamp by Flynnux eventually you will by iLed Voices In My Head Stamp by dA--bogeyman Release Flying Monkeys Stamp by dA--bogeyman Cartman stamp- Sandy Vagina? by Reicheru25 OH NO by skinnyveestamp um, yeah by kazria-kitty No One's Dead Yet, So... by SionnaDehr But maybe some day..... by SirvanaRachana Svalbard by SirvanaRachana Kuwait by SirvanaRachana Sonnet to Genevra by SirvanaRachana Typing Stamp by MuttButt1996 Stanzas to Jessy by SirvanaRachana Halloween normal by DesuSigMaker Don't Trust Me by LaurenEatsChildren My Mind Is Blown by LaurenEatsChildren Heaven by LaurenEatsChildren KaguraUchiha bit of wisdom by SirvanaRachana Oman by SirvanaRachana An occasional prologue by SirvanaRachana Tokelau by SirvanaRachana Hannibal Hamlin by SirvanaRachana Tuscany by SirvanaRachana Veeeery good ideas... by 1Foxylady Joe Biden by SirvanaRachana Circus Circus by SirvanaRachana Don't go to sleep angry... by Katttty920 Congrats +STAMP+ by xKillingInTheName :stamp quote: by ashers-ashers DA Stamp - Ernest Gaines Quote by tppgraphics DA Stamp - Couldn't Care Less by tppgraphics It will help you by HarmonicSonic Public feeding by XxchantellexX fuunnnyyy.. by princess-femi-stamps even death by Sky-of-Dust STOP by Sky-of-Dust
swear by Fyi-Sus Bullshit Does not... by SupremeSonrio Because You Cannot Deny the Past by crazylaura64 I WANNA BAYBEH!!!!111! by crazylaura64 I DUN LIEK UR OPINIONZ by crazylaura64 Stamp_Their reasons are none of your business by Chivi-chivik Japanophobia by crazylaura64 Germanophobia by crazylaura64 Insane fangirls by TheArtOfNotLikingYou Stamp: Respect by Riza-Izumi Um.. I don't care by SoraJayhawk77 Rock on. by Snuf-Stamps
I heart thigh highs by GemmilyArt I'm Tired, I Tried by shadowleigh Disappear by shadowleigh
Why Did You Try To Kill Yourself? by shadowleigh I Hate by shadowleigh MSI Stamp #1 by This-Good-Killjoy
MEIN TEIL - stamp by Cornebus RAMMSTEIN. by NyuuAi Rammstein by WaDaLeiN Favorite Bands Stamp by MacabreVampire Ich liebe Rammstein by MiZuInK STAMP: Rammstein by neurotripsy Rammstein by WaDaLeiN Benzin. by NyuuAi German Metal by VVraith Germany. by NyuuAi Tills Faces_Stamp by German-Blood Feuer Frei -- the GIF by ZlayaHozyayka Rammstein Fan Stamp by hosmer23 Rammstein by WaDaLeiN I Have A Dirty Mind by parliamentFunk Stamp - Rammstein by KanaScott In case you couldn't tell, I'm quite fond of Rammstein. Germany by YukinoTenshi23 Germany Stamp by WhiteShadow234 Germany stamp 4 by veronica-the-fox Nightowl Stamp by Kezzi-Rose I Love Stars- stamp by AlbinoSeaTurtle
The Legend of Spyro Stamp by Spyroflamesredsbum Stamp: Karkat by Michiru-Mew Mambostuck Karkat by YukinoTenshi23 Mambostuck Aradia by YukinoTenshi23 Meenah Peixes by YukinoTenshi23 Porrim Maryam by YukinoTenshi23 -AlphaAndBetaTrollsStamp!- by RobicTheEscapist Kurloz Makara by YukinoTenshi23 Mambostuck Gamzee by YukinoTenshi23 Homestuck Stamp by CrystheWaterNinja Homestuck Stamp by Demon-Dolphin Karkat Hate by MeanWhatuSay Gamzee Kill by MeanWhatuSay MoThErFuCkIn MiRaClEs by Dametora I Love Gamzee by TunedHeaven moiraaaails stamp by PUNURMiO Gamzee x Karkat by n-c-b-stamps Gamzee by AlClair Feferi Glub by MeanWhatuSay Kanaya Reason by MeanWhatuSay Eridan Rant by MeanWhatuSay Stamp: Gamzee by Michiru-Mew Stamp: Feferi by Michiru-Mew Stamp: Kurloz by Shendijiro Jade Mother by YukinoTenshi23 Purple Tyrant by YukinoTenshi23 Fuchsia Ruler by YukinoTenshi23

Mentality

| Perfectly Fine | FINE | Getting Better| Getting Worse | Depression | Wavering | Uncontrollable Bouts Of Rage | Manic | Split Personality | Losing It | LOST IT | Insane | Psychotic | Schizophrenia | Seeing Things | Intense Paranoia | MODERATE PARANOIA | Delusional | Giggling Habits | LOST TOUCH WITH REALITY | Amnesia | Re-living Traumatic Event | Self- Doubt | Memory Loss

Health

| Perfectly Healthy | Healthy | OKAY | So-So | Sick | Hurt | Injured | Recovering | Poisoned | Critically Wounded | Mortally Wounded | Hospitalized | Dead | Ghost | God Tier

Mood

| ISOLATED | Sleepy | Exhausted | Regretful | Murderous | Uncomfortable | AWKWARD | Love struck | Crushing | OKAY | Happy | Calm | Bold | Homicidal | DISTANT | Neutral | Excited | Mixed Feelings | SILENT | Deified | DISTRUST | Dread | Fear | Anger | Hostility | Jealousy | LONELY| SHY | Suffering | Jumpy | Anxious | Frightened | PARANOID | Deathly Afraid |

My bby:

:icondarkangel9991:
She DA' bae.
She's so amazing <3333333
I love her.
Daisypath Friendship tickers

My bestest vegetable porn bbu :U /// :iconover-sassed:
She's my amurikan beybe <3


My best abroad friend in Murica'/cat shipping roleplayer/Best Roleplaying friend /// :iconrandomnesssteve:

:icondarkangel9991::iconamber1700:

Name: Amber
Age: I'm a teenager
Favourite artist; Van Gogh
Favourite genre of music: hard/alternitive Rock, heavy metal, Christian rock, (Three Days Grace, Rammstein, Skillet, Black Veil Brides, Evanescence, Bring Me The Horizon, The Pretty Reckless) ect, ect.
Favourite style of art: Manga. Both digital and traditional. I like all styles of art; art is what you make of it.
Operating System: Ipad 2, most of the time. My laptop.
Favourite cartoon character: Speedy Mouse, Coraline. (does Hetalia count as cartoons?) YES. OK. THE PLANET.
Disney characters, all of them.
Personal Quote: You can only move as fast as who's in front of you.
We stopped checking under the bed for monsters, when we realised they were inside us.

Favourite movie: lady and the tramp, anything Disney. The fox and the hound. My all time fave movie is Legend Of The Guardians: The Owls Of Ga'Hoole. Love Coraline. Frozen.
Fave book: Ingo, and titles by David Almond, Especially My Name Is Mina. I love black rabbit summer, and the Book Theif.
Warrior cats.
Ultraviolet
The Hunger Games

My fave artists:

darkangel9991.deviantart.com/ <Darkangel9991
My BFF c:

My favourite artist/designer that I can't find on this site is:
Tim Burton.

More useless information about me that you will probably never read;

My name is Amber, call me Amber, Ireland, or Ams (by friends) I'm called bby by :icondarkangel9991: and her only.
I'm called Ireland because of my Hetalia OC. She's Ireland, or more specifically, Dublin.

I liked and was good at history BEFORE I found Hetalia.
I was an enthusiast at Geography, too, and one of the languages I'm taught on a weekly basis.

I speak very bad Spanish, fluent German, and crack British. This means that whatever we're talking about, (unless you're serious) I will often say things that no clinically sane person should ever say.
I also apologise if I include various random German words in my conversations with you. I also apologise for using Bahnhof (that means train station) as a curse word.

Don't even ask.

I love the song iNsAnItY by vocaloid, and various others. I'm a fangirl for a small amount of things, but I'm not stupid or rabid.

My favourite food was pasta before I discovered Hetalia.

I owe my happiness to my best friend, Catherine.

Catherine introspduced (I'm going to leave that typo word there, because it's funny) me to Hetalia, too.

Countries and cities I have visited:

Cyprus (that was best)
Another place in Spain...La manga? I can't remember, I was 4.
Ibiza (AWESOME.)
Ireland
Benidorm (HOW SPELLZ?!)

Where I want to go:

Berlin,
The Carrabian
Bora bora (before it sinks)
Greece
Rio (with my grandma, she always wanted to go there)
America.
Russia, maybe Belarus or wherever.
Hawaii
Australia
Tokyo
Interests
If we kissed:

[] This wouldn't happen.
[] Oh disgusting.
[] Again, again.
[] Kiss you back.
[] Let’s take this to the bedroom.
[] Slap/Push you away.
[] Be confused

If you asked me out I'd say:

[] Um no.
[] I’m taken-
[] Sure.
[] HOLY ASDFGHJK YESSSSS.

Can we cuddle?:

[] No.
[] Ew.
[] Sure.
[] YES.

Sex?:

[] Let’s do it.
[] No. You can’t handle my d.
[] FUCK YES.
[] No.

Should you re-post this?:

[] Yes. I want to send you one.
[] Yes.
[] No.

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:icongnapp:
Gnapp Featured By Owner Nov 8, 2014  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks for the fav!
Reply
:icongrim-grinning:
Grim-Grinning Featured By Owner Nov 7, 2014  Student Traditional Artist
:iconstardividerplzl::iconstardividerplzl::iconstardividerplzm::iconstardividerplzr::iconstardividerplzm::iconstardividerplzr::iconstardividerplzr:

Thank you so much for the favorite ♥  I really appreciate it!
Reply
:iconeokoi:
eokoi Featured By Owner Nov 1, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the watch :heart:
Reply
:iconrookywriter:
rookyWriter Featured By Owner Oct 31, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the fave!! :iconjapanposeplz:
Reply
:iconvengefulamber:
vengefulamber Featured By Owner Oct 28, 2014  Hobbyist Writer

Hi there~ Thank you so much for watching me! Here's what's going on right now!


Unfortunately, as school is currently in session, I am not currently accepting anymore requests, but here's a list of my fandoms for future reference! vengefulamber.deviantart.com/j… Don't be afraid to recommend


Finally, I have an art blog on Tumblr, if you want to check it out! otisdoesartnstuff.tumblr.com/


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:iconkuranszo:
kuranszo Featured By Owner Oct 27, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the fave :)
Reply
:iconhekkoto:
Hekkoto Featured By Owner Oct 27, 2014
thx for fav ^^
if you like it look on my gallery, I have many arts in this type :D (Big Grin)
Reply
:icondrawingcozy:
drawingcozy Featured By Owner Oct 25, 2014  Student Digital Artist
Thanks for watchSCREAM
Reply
:iconflyscratch:
flyscratch Featured By Owner Oct 25, 2014
thanks for fav
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:iconlukewolf6:
LukeWolf6 Featured By Owner Oct 25, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thank you so much for the watch :tighthuhg: :heart:
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