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About Literature / Hobbyist Member Natalie O'Dell16/Female/United States Recent Activity
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I'm still not writing fanfiction.  Or poetry.  This is mostly for newcomers visiting this account.

Most of my stuff, re-reading it now, isn't that good.  Here is what is actually pretty good.  I have no idea what order this is in:


FearThe butterflies
Seem to like me;
I make that assumption
Because they won't go away.
All day, since I woke up,
Butterflies.
They knew what was coming.
It was still unexpected;
I never thought anything
Like this would happen so soon.
And they are still with me
Because now I have to say
What happened:
A coming-out
And reaching unknown territory
At the same time.
The butterflies
Know what will happen--
What I fear will happen.
Tonight,
So much changes.
The butterflies know.


LinesA line that is
Drawn in pen
Is one which
You cannot bend.
Against re-drawing,
It has protection.
Too bad for you
And your affection.


The Betrayal of Mayuri Shiina
It is an old story
One of betrayal
And dramatic irony
We saw it coming
And they didn’t
The Traitor:
Not a Temptress per se
But wormed her way
Into their lives all the same
The False Innocent
She never looked up from her phone
She hardly said a word
She never had any emotion in her eyes
Of course they wouldn’t have known
We did
I sat shouting at my monitor
“No, you can’t trust her!
She’s up to something, can’t you see?
She’s too suspicious!
Don’t tell her anything!”
But of course they don’t listen
And the masked men burst through the door
Led by The Traitor, Shining Finger
Eyes that were emotionless
Were then just cold
And yet there was a hint of remorse
But it was after the trigger was pulled
Far too late for redemption
The Victim:
The True Innocent
She saw with clear eyes
She could see the error in their ways
It’s not like she could have warned them
She herself never saw it coming
But she should have known
Someth


ButterfliesIn a world
where girl
carried a butterfly
in a jar
around her neck...

It is not that hard
to carry a butterfly
in a jar
but
There comes a time
when the rope burns
and the jar feels
weighty
It is not that hard
to care for a butterfly
inside a jar
if you think about it
But still
some girls will feel
the burn and the weight
and wish to let it go
And they unscrew the lid
and there it goes,
a marvel of nature
fluttering away
Some girls will
let their butterflies
go when they're young
and then they regret it
and miss the little beauty around their necks
Some girls will
do the same
as the ones just mentioned
but yet they do not seem to mind
when their gold and black marvels fly away
Some girls will
have the lid snatched off before they
even thought about letting it go
and then they wander their lives in sorrow
with a sad paper butterfly in the jar instead
Boys have moths around their necks,ones
they do not seem to care as much for usually
They open the lid and watch it fly
and do not t


AngelBack
against
the wall.
I should
not
have paused
my TV;
that
which takes the image of it
becomes it.
Why
couldn't I remember that?
And now
I
pay the price for
my ignorance.
I never knew
that
stone
could look
malicious.
Staring
at me as if
I personally did
something to anger it.
I heard that when
you're fatigued
you don't blink as much.
But I'm
too full of
fearful adrenaline;
It keeps my eyes
blinking:
open-close-open-close
until it'll be
too late.
The lights start
flickering.
Closer and closer
comes the devil
in marble clothing.
Eyes
grow
narrower and more
hateful.
Jaws
open wider
with fangs that I swear
get bigger and bigger.
It's a nightmarish
stop-motion film
where there's only one
horrible outcome.
Maybe my final prayer
will reach a real angel,
one that
does not show false sorrow
with weeping.
Back
against
the wall.
Eyes open
for the last few
seconds.
And then...


MomentsI don't even
know anymore.
Do you ever have
one of those
bizarre moments
when
You want to cry
You want to laugh
You want to wish
You want to scream
all at the same time?
So strange when that happens.
I cry because it's not real
I laugh because it could happen
I wish because I want it to happen
I scream because I can
Do you ever have
one of those bizarre moments
when
Everything makes sense
but yet nothing makes sense at all?
You want to understand and you think you do
but yet you absolutely can't?
I do.
Right now.
And I don't even know anymore.


Science and ShameCome up to tell you sorry
You don't know how I need you
Tell me ask me
Your secrets your questions
Let's go to the start
Tails, Heads
A science apart
Nobody said it was
a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was this hard
Back to the start
I was just numbers and figures
Pull apart questions
of science and progress
Do not speak as my heart
You love me and haunt me
Rush in circles
As we are
Nobody said it was a shame for us to part
Nobody it would be so hard
Back to the start


Innocence (or Lack Thereof)
When you start thinking
about the world
about life
about god
about love
You begin to gain some perspective.
If you think too hard
the world changes
our lives change
a god changes
love changes
And then you begin to lose.
You gain new ideas, and then much is lost:
the innocence in the world
the innocence of our lives
the innocence of a god
the innocence of love
It all looks very different than it did before.
The world is so much harder
Our lives are so much more pointless
A god is so much crueler
Love is so much more painful
Losing innocence
isn't losing.
It's gaining.
Gaining perspective.
So I lost my innocence
A long time ago.


RememberForget the words
You can’t belive.
Always singing
the words so sweet,
You can’t feel the beat.
Try to fall behind.
Use your headphones
to drown out
the words so sweet.
You can’t remember
To move your feet.
Decide whether or not
To feel the chill.
Hear that cry:
The words to your
favorite song.
It was so easy
to move your feet.
You can’t remember
to feel the beat.


RQ-NorwayxReader: Photographs
It was a warm, early summer evening.  Lukas Bondevik was walking home through the park near his house.  He had come from the convenience store and had a bag with a carton of milk and two pints of Ben and Jerry's in it.  The sun was getting lower in the sky as he walked down the path that went through the middle of the park.  As he kept walking, he noticed that there was something in the grassy field on the side of the pathway.
What...? the Norwegian thought to himself as he stepped cautiously towards the figure in the grass.  It was a girl.  She was crouched on the ground, bent over.  "Um, excuse me miss, but are you okay?"  She turned her head awkwardly to look up at him.  Now that her head was out of the way, Lukas could see she had a camera.  
"Eeeeeh?  I'm fine of—ooooh okay, I get it," she sighed.  "Yeah, no, I'm fine mister.  I was just tak


GermanyxReader songfic: Einsamkeit[A/N:  Okay, this little note is very random, but I would just like to say one thing before I begin.  All my fans, I love you guys so much.  I love reading your comments and engaging in mini-conversations.  And every time someone tells me that they like my stories, I sit there and beam.  I LOVE YOU GUYS!!!  THANKS FOR YOUR ENDLESS SUPPORT AND KIND WORDS!!!*Huggles from the author*]
Though I look like I'm lecturing,I'm actually just conversing
It's not really...
At times my face may look grim,
But I'm actually just cold
Though I don't mind it...

February 25, 2012.  65 years ago today, two things died.  One was a nation called Prussia.  The other was a man named Gilbert Beilschmidt.  Yes, probably a lot of people died that day; a lot of people die every day.  But there was a reason that Mr. Beilschmidt in particular had died the same day as the awesome nation. 


EnglandxReader: Christanukkah"Happy Christanukkah{1}, _______!" Lichtenstein said sweetly.  You smiled and plopped a latke{2} on her plate.  "You too, Lichtenstein!"  Alfred cam over, handed you a Christmas cookie and took a latke in exchange.  It was your annual Christanukkah party, and nearly all your friends and frenemies had come to celebrate with you.  You were Jewish, but pretty much none of your friends were.  To make everyone happy, you decided to hold a party that could include everyone.  Among the guests were America, Canada, Italy and Romano, Lichtenstein, Switzerland, Germany, Prussia, Hungary, and *blush* England.  England, England.  You two had been best friends since 4th grade, but after many years, you'd fallen in love with him.  The two of you had considered going out at one point, but he got over you, much to your dismay.
       Now there he was, at your dining ro


Punk!EnglandxReader: He's Drunk. Again.Most :fav:ed story I've written  Thanks so much, everyone!
___________________________________________________________________________________________
       *Briiiiiing!  Briiiiing!*  The phone was ringing.  Again.  You sighed and picked it up. "Helloooo?"
        "_-_______?" a voice with a British accent asked.
You sighed again.  "What is it NOW, Arthur?" you asked.  Though you had a pretty good idea.
        "Who said there was a proooblem?" he slurred.  Yup, I figured this much… you thought.  "I'm just c-calling to say hi…________. "
        "Mm-hmm right.  Now where are you?"  You facepalmed.  He was drunk again.  Or stoned again.  Or shitface, meaning both.  


The Greatest AdventurePeople have
such dull little lives,
and they always dream of
something else.
A different life.
Bigger, fuller, more tragic, more brilliant,
lighter, darker, more fulfilling, more worth.
And so they turn to imagination.
Theirs,
or someone else's.
Turn to books, drawings, films,
television, music, dance,
sounds, words, pictures.
And that way, for one moment,
one beautiful, shining moment,
they are not living their lives.
They are imagining the greatest adventure
they'll never have.


GermanyxReader: A Nazi and a Jew 1 (EDIT)
A/N: READ THE DESCRIPTION, BITTE UND DANKE.
~*~
"Sh, Laura, it's alright," you whispered to your tiny baby sister.  You looked down at her, wrapped tightly in an old blouse, and clutched at your Star of David necklace, praying in your head that you wouldn't be caught.  Be caught doing what, exactly?  Well, you were going to sneak into the ghetto{1} and break your mother out.  Then you were going to sneak back with her to the abandoned apartment you were hiding in.  It was risky, but you needed your mother.  You needed someone who could look after baby Laura while you searched for a job to raise money.  
True, it was very rare that anyone would ever give a Jew like you a job.  Everyone hated you or people like you, either because of their pre-existing predjudices, or because they feared the Nazis would come after them if they helped you.  But if you couldn't get a job, then you'd walk around and ask or work for food.  But you couldn't take Laura with you to do that; you needed so
Angel!EnglandxReader SF: Only if for a Night 1
       
           You lay tummy-down on your bed, back covered in blankets and chin resting on your pillow.  You took a deep breath and sighed, before casting your eyes upwards to stare at the posters on your wall.
            
           The biggest and by far most important picture on your wall was of a man with straw-blond hair and emerald-green eyes.  It was a poster you'd gotten at an anime convention of Arthur Kirkland (or England, if you like), the fictional man who you considered to be your one true love.  The poster captured your idea of him perfectly.  It showed him wearing a grey Rolling Stones t-shirt, sipping a cup of tea, and smiling the sweetest smile.  You sighed blissfully upon seeing the picture, but instantly changed your peaceful expression to a depressed one.
           You rolled over on your back but continued to gaze up at the poster of England.  Some sort of emotion inside you that had been forming for a long time finally surfaced.  Stifling a small sniffle, y
10-Song Writing1. Boulevard of Broken Dreams--Green Day
    "It's raining again..." she whispered softly to herself, continuing to trudge down the street.  The guitar case was still firmly strapped to her back, covered in band stickers, as raindrops began to trickle down the hard black case.  Most shops were still open, though none were of interest to her, and their lights were the only thing showing her the way down the otherwise abandoned street.  Where was she going?  Home, she supposed, though she wasn't taking the most direct route to get there.  It didn't really matter anyway; her life was crap, so why did it matter?
2. Paradise--Coldplay
    The sunrise over the dunes was beautiful, as per usual.  Elaine sat on the front porch of her beach house, in her rocking chair, covered by the patchwork quilt her mother made her.  Matt was inside, probably in the bathroom; he'd come out to give h


PrussiaxReader: Are You Out There? 1Perhaps I am a miscreation
No one knows the truth there is no future here
And you're the DJ speaks to my insomnia
And laughs at all I have to fear
Laughs at all I have to fear
You always play the madmen poets
Vinyl vision grungy bands
You never know who's still awake
You never know who understands

Through the radio static, you heard a familiar voice.  "Hey, listeners, zhis is Gilbert Beilschmidt on 105.7 WHET's Midnight Music Show.  Let's get things started here, ja?"  Ah, Gilbert.  He was your favorite DJ on your favorite radio station, WHET.  You had known him when you went to high school; he was actually your first boyfriend.  The two of you both wanted to be musicians, maybe even start a band together.  But somehow or another, he kind of ditched that dream and wound up being a disk jockey.
"So I had zhis girlfriend/boyfriend vonce," he began.  He told stories a lot.  It didn't really ma


CanadaxReader: Arms part 1AUTHOR'S NOTE, PLEASE READ: Well, really, you don't HAVE to read this, but I'd like it if you did...  This is another song-inspired fanfiction, much like "Someone Like You."  The song is called "arms" and it's by Christina Perri (who is an amazing songwriter by the way.)  For convenience's sake, say that the reader is about 17-21 or so.
~*~*~*~*~
I sniffed the air and perked my head up.  Pancakes! I thought.  Canada, my roommate of sorts, made pancakes a lot.  Ever since I moved in here, and probably before, he'd make chocolate-chip pancakes every morning for breakfast.  He made other kinds too, but he knew I liked the chocolate-chip ones best, so he made sure to always make them.  I moved in here after the roof collapsed in my house, and my ex-boyfriend-and Matthew's brother-America, had dumped me for my best friend and wouldn't let me stay here.  To be perfectly honest, I'd fallen for the
  • Mood: Neutral
  • Listening to: Highway 61--Son Volt

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ExSakura-Lit
Natalie O'Dell
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
Um yeah....I don't really use this account anymore. Go here: :iconexsakura:

~:heart:Wall of Fangirlism:heart:~
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:iconmoxandnunza:
MOXANDNUNZA 6 days ago  Student General Artist
Happy Birthday!
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:iconexsakura-lit:
ExSakura-Lit 6 days ago  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you!
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:iconchibirosechain:
ChibiRoseChain Mar 26, 2014  Student General Artist
hey wat's up
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:iconexsakura-lit:
ExSakura-Lit Mar 27, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
The ceiling.
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:iconchibirosechain:
ChibiRoseChain Mar 27, 2014  Student General Artist
lolz
cool icon
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:icontetrarchangel:
tetrarchangel Apr 24, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
My thanks for the favourite.
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:iconexsakura-lit:
ExSakura-Lit Apr 24, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
No problem!
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:iconfmaloverrrena75:
FMAloverrRena75 Apr 13, 2013  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!:)
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:iconexsakura-lit:
ExSakura-Lit Apr 14, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you!
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:iconfmaloverrrena75:
FMAloverrRena75 Apr 14, 2013  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Your welcome~: )
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