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Review: Weight Chapter Four (Back from the hiatus, and boy, are we fucking angry).
HEY, FUCKERS.
And, uh, fans. And loyal readers.
It’s time for another installment of critiquing this pile of regurgitated vomit called ‘Weight’. This review will be done by me, Mod Felixxx, because the other D-Bag mods thought I haven’t done fuck-all enough for this goddamned blog.
…Yeah, they’re right. Let’s get this show on the road.
Weight
Authors Note: I own nothing at all.
As America was getting ready for the meeting the next morning, he was staring at himself shirtless in the mirror the next morning. He had made it a habit to squeeze his pudge every time he caught his reflection in a full length mirror. Shifting his hands from his belly to his face, he began to pinch the tiny hint of double chin that threatened to show any day now.
Okay, as we’ve pointed out before, if the poor boy HAS SUCH FUCKING BIG ISSUES WITH HIMSELF, THEN WHY DOESN’T HE GET HELP? OR LOSE THE FUCKING WEIGHT?
Alfred represents America, right? In this fanfic, it seems that the general consensus for all you lardasses over across the fucking pond is that you’re all jiggly crybabies. Honestly, if I was American, I’d be fucking offended.
I know that that’s not true. I know fat people can be beautiful and strong, despite the stigma and negativity society has put atop of the overweight majority. But, within this fanfic, we are being given the impression that FAT means that you are a constant whining baby that needs attention from your creepy-ass chubby chaser boyfriend. And while having a preference to thicker bodies is acceptable and I am NOT against it (coz, I do think that some ‘fat’ chicks are pretty damn hot) we’ve already seen how FUCKING CREEPY England is in this fic.
You guys are STILL bitching and moaning about the fact that we’re against this supposedly ‘good story’?
Fuck. You.
You mean to tell me that I’m supposed to accept and like this overglorified over-weight blob of a Nation as my ‘hero’ and look up to him, even while all he does is WHINE, AND BITCH AND COMPLAIN about how much of a fat shit he is?
IF HE DID SOMETHING ABOUT HIS WEIGHT, OR HAD SOME KIND OF ACTUAL, WELL DEVELOPED AND EXPLAINED HURDLE WHICH EXPLAINED WHY HE COULD NOT LOSE WEIGHT OR HAD TROUBLE DOING SO, THEN I WOULD HAVE NO PROBLEM.
THIS ABOMINATION YOU SUPPOSEDLY CALL ‘ALFRED F JONES’ SUCKS AS A HERO. FUCK YOU, AUTHOR. FUCK. YOU.
…
*Ahem*
England began knocking on the American’s bathroom door in worryand annoyance. “America, what’s taking you so long in there?”
Wanking.
The Brit didn’t want to leave his former colony alone for too long after that reckless display with a kitchen knife the day before.
What, the author’s PATHETIC attempt at bringing in ‘drama’ by HAVING THAT UNDERDEVELOPED PIECE OF SHIT ‘SUICIDE ATTEMPT’? As a person who has recently ALMOST LOST one of his friends (one of the mods who runs this fucking blog) to suicide, this made me fucking angry.
Hey, Author?
You’re a piece of shit for writing that scene.
Suicide isn’t to be fucked around with. Jokes? Yeah, go on. Whatever. Providing actual, well written and well developed scenes with attempted suicide/suicide itself? Yes, go on.
BUT THIS FUCKING TRIGGERING GARBAGE OF ‘OH I’M GOING TO STAB MYSELF LOL NO NOT REALLY’?
Fuck you.
He was afraid that America still had the ability to do something drastic.
“Just one minute!” America screeched throwing on a large blue dress shirt and exiting the bathroom once it was buttoned up.
“America isn’t that shirt a little too big for you?”
I bet you want something skin tight so that you can see his flab, dont’cha, you creep?
“No, it’s fine. I like baggy shirts anyway.”
“America.” England said in a parental tone.
Ugh, please put more description into the ‘parental tone’. There’s a whole bunch of different parental tones, like a kind, mothery one, or perhaps a stronger angrier, or ‘a warning’. Get your shit straight.
“It hides my fat Iggy…”
Stop calling him ‘Iggy’. I think only France called him that canonically.
It’s fucking annoying, and character-wise, I doubt England would much appreciate it, let alone accept it. Plus, they’re barely foot-in on their romantic relationship. Maybe calling him by his human name would be acceptable at this point, but this ‘Iggy’ nonsense comes out of nowhere and seems mildly OOC to me.
England’s heart clenched at that as he approached the American with a tender look on his face. Wrapping his arms around America, the Brit began to whisper words of encouragement and love into his ear.
“You’re going to do fine today love. I wish you could see how handsome you really are America…”
Look in a mirror. That’s pretty accurate.
“Th-thanks…”
“Now then, what do you want for breakfast poppet?”
The younger nation visually flinched,
H-Holy shit…
COULD IT BE?
THE AUTHOR ‘SHOWING, NOT TELLING’? WHAT IS THIS?!?!?
“I’m not hungry…”
“America, either you eat here, or I’m going to feed you myself in a restaurant on the way.”
Hey, uh, England?
America wants to lose weight for his own, personal happiness. And it WOULD benefit him.
Let him do it.
Blushing at the memory, America quickly made his way to the kitchen and pulled out a box of toaster strudel from his freezer. They were strawberry flavored, his favorite.
This, uh, isn’t caloriffic or weight-onputting at all. Totally.
“Good boy.” England said smiling at his former colony.
Ugh, my National pride is decreasing with every bit of this moron’s dialogue. I feel fucking filthy just reading it.
Once America and England had eaten their toaster strudel, they hailed a taxi, and made their way to the meeting.
You know, ‘Murica. To lose weight, TYPICALLY, you need to introduce two things to burn the fat in your body.
More excercise and less food.
Well done, you fucking idiot. You’ve screwed both of those things up.
Stepping out of the cab, America began to feel nervous about giving his presentation. He was the first speaker because it was supposed to be his turn when they took a recess the day before.
“I’m scared!” America said burying his face in England’s shoulder.
This is your country, our yankee followers!
Are you proud of it right now?
I hope you still are <3
“Now, now you’ll do just splendid, darling.”
As they walked into the building, England turned to America, “If you’ll excuse me for a moment poppet, I have business to discuss with Germany.”
America frowned suspiciously, but said nothing. Not looking where he was going, he accidentally bumped into a curtain German man.
T’was the sad day Prussia turned into a ‘curtain’.
“Watch where you’re going fat ass!” the Prussian screamed at the insecure American.
I don’t understand why Prussia is so fat-phobic.
Canonically, he’s a big fan of beer, ja?
Well, let’s think about this. Beer is calorific. It typically makes consistent and heavier drinkers ‘fat’. Hence the term, a ‘beer belly’.
Why is Prussia suddenly so mean spirited?
He’s a typically jolly guy, albeit a little irresponsible and with the tendency to tease (perhaps hiding insecurity with his ‘holier-(or awesom-er)than-thou’ vibe). He ought to be USED to fat people. Granted, it is possible he COULD have gone through something recently which has caused him to dislike fat, but AGAIN, as with a MILLION AND ONE THINGS IN THIS FIC, it is not EXPLAINED.
Note from Mod Socks: Ahah! Inner history mode here.
(The dude on the right is the one we’re talking about. Not Hitler. Ignore the fuhrer.) During the Third Reich, the infamously fat (as by Hitler’s opinion as well xD) Hermann Göring was a very important man in the NSDAP (the Nazi party), as well as Prussian history (being the commander of the Prussian Luftwaffe (air force).) He was VERY popular in Prussia and Germany as a generally cool-dude until the luftwaffe fucked up.
Not even going with the fact that I really don’t think that the countries would give a big shit about weight unless it WAS affecting the health of someone, Prussia most likely wouldn’t be the one hating on those who were overweight. That is all.
“S-sorry…”
“You got me yelled at by my bruder yesterday, that was so un-awesome you pig!”
Back to mod Felixxx: Avoiding the lack of correct grammar here, why is Prussia so pissed? He’d most likely be all giggly about how narked off he’s managed to make Ludwig by his really unfunny and stupid-as-fuck prank.
“I-“
“Prussia, will you please leave America alone! You’re acting like a real puta!” Spain yelled running up to his German friend.
…He said one bit of dialogue. And he was annoyed. He should be able to express his anger, you dipshit.
“But he-“
“I don’t want to hear it amigo, what ever Germany did to you, you deserve! You’ve got no right to walk up to someone in their own country- No even if he wasn’t in his own country, you still have no right to make fun of someone for something so stupid as weight, and you had no right to dump that ice cream on his head.
AGAIN, WHAT PURPOSE DID THE PRANK HAVE? IT WASN’T SMART. IT DIDN’T PROVE ANYTHING, NOR DID IT HAVE ANYTHING REMOTELY FUNNY TO IT.
THEY PULL THIS JOKE OFF MUCH MORE EFFECTIVELY ON GLEE.
YEAH, THIS FANFIC HAS WORSE COMEDY THAN GLEE.
It makes me sick just knowing that I call you my friend! Remember when Lovino had a weight problem? You were really supportive of him, so I have no clue why you’re doing this to America!”
Prussia stared at his Hispanic friend in shock. He couldn’t believe that Spain had scolded him, in public no less.
Oh, fuck! Not in public! Anything but that(!).
“You sound just like that stick in the mud Germany! France and I were just trying to have a little fun!”
“You took things way too far! Why don’t you just leave him alone?”
“Guys!” America yelled interrupting their fight.
They both looked at the American, one with a caring look on his face, the other with an angry one.
Well, I wonder which was which!
No, seriously. Get rid of that last part, it has little purpose.
“Can we just forget this ever happened please. I probably deserved it anyway!” he yelled, tears threatening to fall from his eyes.
Spain and Prussia both stared at the boy not believing what they were hearing. Spain felt a pang in his chest for the insecure nation in front of him. Prussia on the other hand smirked.
“See, he said he deserved it anyway, problem solved!”
Thank you.
“Callarse, Prussia! America, how can you say that? You didn’t deserve that at all!”
Spain hugged America tightly, “Lo siento Alfred…” Spain whispered to the now crying American.
AGAIN, MY AMERICAN FRIENDS:
THIS IS YOUR COUNTRY, THE UNITED STATES STATES OF AMERICA.
WHAT A FUCKING NOBLE COUNTRY. HE CRIES AT EVERYTHING.
“It’s not your fault, Spain…”
“You understand Spanish?” Spain said looking into the baby blue eyes that were filled with tears.
“Yeah, I have a lot of immigrants from Mexico, so it makes things easier to know Spanish.”
…Wow, that was THE FIRST BIT OF ACTUAL EXPLAINATION IN THIS ENTIRE FANFIC THAT MADE SENSE AND BACKED UP THE POINT IT WAS TRYING TO PROVE.
WELL DONE, AUTHOR.
Spain only nodded and let go of the American. “Do you want me to walk you to the meeting room?”
“Sure, but I don’t need your protection. We’re just two nations walking to the meeting room together, not one nation protecting the other from stupid ex nations and snail eaters.”
This is so fucking stupid.
“You two are stupid!” Prussia yelled,
Thank you, Prussia. If it wasn’t for your dipshit ‘prank’, you would be the only likeable character in this mess.
but quickly regretted it when he saw that Germany and England were watching the scene the whole time.
As Germany and England approached the Prussian, he ran towards the meeting room to avoid the lecture and beat down he surely would be receiving.
“Bruder get back here!” Germany screamed sounding scary because Germans always sound scary when their angry.
OH, MOD SOCKS WILL NOT BE HAPPY.
Why the unnecessary racism, author? I mean, did you want to dirty yourself more in our eyes?
Fine, let’s make a list of all the shit you’ve done: racism (multiple times), skinny shaming, trying to convince us that it’s okay to force other people to change their appearance for our own gain and trivialising suicide and self harm.
How the fuck do you still defend this author, guys?
“Wanker, no one says that to America and gets away with it!” England yelled running behind Germany.
“Well I guess we better follow them, no?”
“Yeah dude, lets get going!”
Walking into the meeting room, they noticed that their argument with Prussia had made them all late. Sitting down, he noticed that England was already seated with a pissed off look on his face. Smiling at the Brit, he raised an eyebrow.
“Did you catch him, Superman?”
OH, FOR FUCK’S SAKES.
I BET YOU WERE TOO FAT TO GET YOUR LAZY, JIGGLY ASS OF YOUR SEAT AND CHASE HIM FOR YOURSELF, HUH?
I BET YOU WERE TOO BUSY CRYING TO FUCKING THINK ABOUT THAT.
GO STUFF ANOTHER BURGER IN YOUR FATASS GOB. GO ON. NOBODY GIVES A SHIT ANYMORE. WALLOW IN YOUR SELF PITY, YOU SHIT.
*AHEM*
England blushed, “No, Germany stopped me because the meeting was already starting. I’ll deal with him later poppet.”
“You don’t have to…” America whispered shyly.
Shut the fuck up, you annoying piece of shit. Don’t even bother with pulling yourself around as the Goddamn hero. Author, you’ve done such a shitty job with making this characterization, you’ve lost all my fucking respect.
“But I want to baby.”
America blushed at being called such a sappy pet name, and twiddled his thumbs shyly. Once his name was called to approach the podium, he suddenly became more nervous than he had ever been in his life. Walking up to the front of the room, he noticed that France had stuck his leg out in order to trip him, to which he thankfully dodged. The room was deadly silent as America began to speak.
“So, the topic I would like to bring to your attention is global warming. My scientist think we shouldn’t be too worried because they predict that it’s only a sign of a second ice age coming which wont happen for another million years or so-“
America’s speech was cut off by a large bucket of red paint being poured on all over his body from the opening in the ceiling. The room was dead silent, until France broke it with his taunting laughter. Suddenly it was like a bomb went off. Almost every nation in the room started laughing and chuckling at the American’s pain.
YOU RIPPED OFF STEPHEN KING?
HAVE YOU NO SHAME????
“What is the meaning of this!” Germany yelled before England could start telling everyone off. Everyone went silent once more and stared from America to Germany.
“All right who’s the dead man who’s responsible for this?” England yelled also, his pirate side coming out instantly.
Oh, God. Don’t bring in this multiple personality bullshit into this. You don’t have the skills to competently explain it, author.
America stared at England in disbelief. Suddenly a thought came into his head, that brought him more pain than the public humiliation he’d just faced.
“You bitch!” he sobbed at England, and ran out of the room. Gasps were heard throughout the room, as everyone stared at the Brit.
“No, America I didn’t do this!”
UH, AMERICA, IS THERE SOMETHING A LITTLE WRONG WITH YOU?
WHY WOULD ENGLAND HAVE DONE IT?
“Amigo, don’t run away!” Spain said running after America in concern.
Figuring that Spain would calm America down, England turned towards the shocked world meeting room and narrowed his eyes.
“What the hell is wrong with all of you? This isn’t kindergarten, this is a World Meeting for Christ sake! Even if no one here did this, you’re still pathetic children for laughing at his pain! I hope you’re all bloody proud of yourselves and-“
You know, maybe he has a point, I mean-
He was interrupted by France’s giggling in the back of the room. Grabbing a chair, he lifted it over his head and threw the blunt object at the laughing Frenchmen, causing a lad crack to be heard throughout the room.
…HOW MATURE, ENGLAND. YOU CLEARLY ARE THE EPITOME OF ADULTHOOD.
France was unconscious, with blood dripping out of his nose by the gallons and this time it wasn’t from being a pervert.
Blood doesn’t come out of your nose when you are being a ‘pervert’. I suppose your blood flow levels might shift a little when you’re aroused, but unless there’s something SERIOUSLY wrong with you, it won’t cause a nosebleed.
On that note, there’s more to France as a character than being a pervert. Thank you.
England thought about strangling him right in front of everyone to make an example out of him, but he only turned to walk out of the room, “Get him to a fucking hospital…” he muttered and then walked out to find America.
List of shit Author has done: Trivialise murder, try and make physical abuse and lack of anger management okay, racism (multiple times), skinny shaming, trying to convince us that it’s okay to force other people to change their appearance for our own gain and trivialising suicide and self harm.
Walking outside, he found a frantic America being shaken out of a panic attack by a weeping Spain. “Amigo, England didn’t do this to you, I promise! Stop saying you’re going to kill yourself!”
More of trivilaising suicide. Great job.
America was covered in paint from head to toe. To England, it looked like blood covering his little nation. Running over to Spain and America, he hugged the young nation from behind.
“America, I didn’t do this to you! Remember what I said yesterday? I love you, I’ve always loved you!”
America still sobbed beginning to panic even more. “You’re lying, you’re just trying to trick me again.!”
America’s breathing became erratic as Spain and England hugged him tighter. “America, just tell us what we can do, there must be something we can do to calm you down!” the Spanish man asked contemplating slapping the nation.
“Just stop! Get off of me, I’m so nauseated, I just want to go home!” he cried.
Wah, wah, wah.
Cry harder.
“America, calm down, we’re here with you!” the Brit yelled beginning to cry just like the other two nations.
“No, everyone hates me, you’re just trying make fun of me! I-“
Spain interrupted the frantic nation by smacking him in the face. The smack had been a really hard one that made a pop sound echo throughout the parking lot they were standing in. It seemed to bring America out of his panic mode also.
Oh, that is sweet. Thank you so fucking much.
Could you please slap him again? Please?
“Better?” Spain asked wiping his tears away with one hand, with the other still wrapped around America.
“Thanks…I… I… needed… that…” he said trying to catch his breath.
England held the American tighter from behind. “I love you, America. I didn’t do this to you.”
“Yes you did! You made up that bogus excuse by saying you needed to talk to Germany, and then you rigged up that bucket! Don’t lie!”
“No America, I was asking Germany if you could speak last so you would have time to mentally prepare yourself. Germany said it would be best of you to go first to get it over with! I didn’t do this to you, ask Germany, I was with him the whole time. I think it was France and Prussia, America!”
Not meaning to victim blame, here, but England, you’re provoking them. They most likely want a reaction and England’s consistent bursts of them are really the root cause of them seeing that by ‘pranking’ America more and more to play on his feelings, then the more and more they’re going to hurt him.
“Si, America. I don’t think England would have ever done this to you!” Spain added as the American rested his head on the Spaniards chest. England felt a pang of jealousy, but quickly shook it away because he knew how much Spain loved Romano and how much America loved him.
“You two, just get me out of here, please.” he whimpered.
England took off his coat, and wrapped it around America, as Spain ran to flag down a taxi.This would have been up sooner if my baby brother hadn’t needed a bath and wouldn’t cry every time I left the room lol, thanks for reading :)
Why could could your brother have not stayed longer in the bath to stop you from writing this abomination?!
…Ugh.
See you next review.
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Review: World War Two Ghost Dog (Yes, you read that correctly).
Submitter: This made my brain explode. Seriously. I mean, wtf?
Dreading this already.
I’ve been out here for I’m guessing a few months.
Oh, well, this isn’t a sentence that’s all that bad to start off with. I’d say the grammar is a teeny-weeny bit off, as I’d say ‘I’ve been out here for what I guess to be a few months’. However, we’ve had a lot worse, and-
I am half human, dog, and ghost.
Oh. Also, shouldn’t it be ‘a ghost’? Being a spiritual being isn’t a specie. It’d be nice if you could have defined what being ‘ghost’ was, considering there’s an immense amount of interpretations of this trope.
The government caught me
Ugh… Okay, I hate to be nitpicking and yelling this early on in the fic, but WHY is the government always scapegoated as the ‘EEEEEEVIL SCIENTISTS WHO DO NONSENSICAL EXPERIMENTS FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES LOL’. Typically, it’s quite rare that the government go out of their way to do permanent, or potentially harmful experiments to human beings (the Nazis and experimentation in concentration camps as well as a few others and etcetera being a major outliar in this case in point). Usually, these experiments are FOR THE GOOD OF THE NATION AND ITS PEOPLE. PLEASE BEAR THIS IN MIND.
and started experimenting on me.
Please specify? I mean, a half-human half-dog would be IMMENSELY interesting to study.
I escaped,
FROM A GOVERNMENTAL LABORATORY? HOW?
but now I can’t turn into a dog,
YOU CAN SHAPESHIFT? ALL THIS TIME, BECAUSE OF THE LACK OF DETAILS, I WAS IMAGINING THIS HIDEOUS HALF-HUMAN HALF-DOG MONGREL CROSSBREED.
instead I have my dog ears instead of human and my tail.
Oh, GREAT. You’re one of those ‘kawaii neko’ (inu?) things. My faith in humanity has yet again fallen by twenty percent.
I can also still talk to animals as well….
Why can you talk to ANIMALS?
Dogs, I could understand. They primarily communicate through varying postures, stances and other body language. Being part ‘dog’, I could let this slide. However, not all ANIMALS have the same way of communicating, or use different bodylanguage to express different things (A dog may wag its tail if it is happy, for instance, while a cat does so in annoyance). IF YOU EXPLAINED AND JUSTIFIED WHY THIS IS THE CASE, IT WOULD BE OKAY. Now, you look fucking idiotic.
but I can’t speak to humans.
Why? You’re part human, and it shouldn’t stop you now, considering you have a human mentality and a mostly human BODY. IF YOU, AGAIN, JUSTIFIED THIS WITH SOME KIND OF EVIDENCE OF WHY THIS WOULD BE THE CASE (Say, the scientists fucked up your voicebox), THEN THIS COULD BE OKAY.
AT THE MOMENT, YOU ARE LOOKING INCREDIBLY STUPID. WELL DONE.
I’ve been living with a pack of wolfs
Why? How? For what purpose? WHERE ARE YOU?
and the leader, Dominico,
HOW DOES A WILD, NON EDUCATED WOLF KNOW HOW TO FORM THE SYLLABLES AND ETCETERA TO FORM A NAME? WHAT?
said I can stay as long as I help hunt and take care of the puppies,
Wolves are fucking territorial. You would most likely not be allowed NEAR the puppies, you retard.
like teaching them how to hunt.
I decided, since I’m not helping any puppies today, I’ll go hunt by myself.
YOU ARE HUMAN. HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU MEANT TO HUNT LIKE A WOLF? YOUR ANATOMY DICTATES YOU CANNOT RUN AS FAST AS A WOLF, OR ON FOUR LEGS PROPERLY, YOU DO NOT HAVE THE TEETH OF A WOLF, NOR CAN YOU EAT RAW FLESH WITHOUT CHANCES OF CATCHING SALMONELLA, YOU INSOLENT TWAT. LEARN ABOUT THESE THINGS, RESEARCH THEM AND JUSTIFY THEM.
I went off into the woods after telling Dominico where I was going. Sometime later I found a rabbit,
HOW?
I was always against killing animals,
HOW?
mostly for sport since I like meat,
…So, you kill them for shits and giggles, but you waste it, even if you like meat… Darling, I don’t think you quite know what the meaning of ‘sport’ is.
but I had to do it or I’ll be on my own.
WHAT? But… YOU’RE IN A PACK.
Quietly I got up to it without realizing there were a human also wanting to catch the rabbit near by. The rabbit saw the man first and came right to me. I pounced and attacked it with my teeth before carrying it back to the pack,
The mental image of a naked girl ripping apart a poor bunny with her bare teeth made me gag a bit. Surely, that kind of thing would best be filmed and put on a shock site?
that’s when I saw the man. I backed up whimpering.
“Vee, it’s ok! Come here, Belle.” said an Italian clapping his hands together close to his knees like he wanted me to come to him.
FIRST OF ALL, IT’S ‘OKAY’. NOT ‘OK’. SECONDLY, WHAT LANGUAGE IS HE SPEAKING IN? This takes place during the second world war, and using the accent ‘ve’ suggests that he is speaking in Japanese, considering that it was his quirk in the JAPANESE VERSION ONLY. However, he is by himself, in the middle of nowhere. WHY IS HE SPEAKING IN JAPANESE? HOW DO WE KNOW HE IS ITALIAN, IF HE IS SPEAKING IN JAPANESE?
I walked up to him, sniffing at first, he patted my head and starting scratching my ear.
Are you naked? Because it was never specified if the chick was wearing clothes. If so, ITALY, YOU PERV!
“Good girl! What’s your name?” he asked being gently with me.
How does I ‘gently with you’?
I wish I could speak to him….I barked.
So… You have a voicebox, you can form coherent human thoughts and yet you can’t speak?
“Can’t you speak?” he asked still scratching behind my ear. I looked up to him with a sad face and started whimpering again.
You are pathetic.
“Vee, well….I’ll call you puppy for now!
Jesus Christ, Feli. I know you’re facist at the moment, BUT THAT WAS UNCALLED FOR!
Puppy, come I’ll show you to my two friends, you can stay with us.” he said motioning me to follow. I followed him to his camp, I met his two friends, Germany and Japan.
WHAT IF SHE WAS FROM THE ALLIES, YOU DIPSHIT?
“So, she can’t speak Italy-san?” Japan asked coming up to me.
WAIT, WAIT, WAIT. Their… Camp. So… We’re on the island? THERE’S WILD WOLVES LIVING ON THE ISLAND? OH FUCK! RUN, AXIS POWERS! RUN!
“As far as I know of she can only bark, it explains her ears and tail.” Italy replied to him.
HOW DOES IT EXPLAIN ANYTHING?
“Look there is a note in her collar.” said Germany pointing at my collar.
Poor Germany. You’re so OOC right now, it hurts.
Japan took the note and started to read, “It saids, ‘Lexi Phantom,
PLEASE TELL ME THIS ISN’T REFERENCING TO DANNY PHANTOM. THAT SHOW IS MY FUCKING CHILDHOOD.
14, half human, half dog, half ghost, experimented on already,
How specific (!). ALSO, YOU FUCKING DIPSHIT. SHE WOULD BE A THIRD OF EVERYTHING, BECAUSE IF YOU ADD ALL THOSE FUCKING NUMBERS UP, YOU’D GET ONE AND A HALF, AND NOT ONE. ALSO, A GHOST ISN’T A SPECIE.
April 22, 2012’ what? That’s not possible!” said Japan looking at the note.
I started wagging my tail and barking trying to tell them that’s me.
“Is it really you Lexi-san?” Japan asked patting my head. I kept barking and wagging my tail.
Considering you’re meant to look human, you’d be looking quite retarded as of the minute. Not a good thing, considering you’re standing right by a Nazi.
“That’s a yes…..she actually could be useful to us.” Germany said.
HOW? IT’S A FUCKING GIRL. YOU, SIR, ARE CURRENTLY WORLD WAR TWO GERMANY. YOU CONFORM TO HITLER’S BELIEFS, AND IF YOU DO NOT, IT SHOULD BE JUSTIFIED. YOU BELIEVE WOMEN SHOULD STAY AT HOME AND HAVE CHILDREN, AND UNLESS YOU WANT TO PERFORM MORE EXPERIMENTS ON THAT FUCKING DOG HUMAN THING, YOU WOULD NOT BE SAYING THIS.
Shhhh, it’s okay, Ludwig. Walk the OOC off. You’ll be okay.
“What do you mean?” Italy asked while I just tilted my head.
“She can help fight off the Allies,
One dog-human thing against more than six FULLY GROWN, SUPERPOWERED NATIONS. YUP. SEEMS LEGIT.
I mean the AMERICAN government probably did this and god knows what to her,
WAIT WHAT HOW DID YOU COME TO THE CONCLUSION IT WAS THE AMERICANS?
Also, am I the only one who sees the slight irony in WORLD WAR TWO GERMANY PREACHING AGAINST HUMAN TESTING?
I’m sure she would want revenge on them, am I right girl?” Germany replied looking from Italy to me.
Yes, Germany. You are a right girl.
Oh, wait! You must’ve meant ‘right, girl’. Sorry, whoops. The lack of comma really fucked that up for me.
I gave a little nod saying yes I kind of do want to get revenge on them.
WAIT, WHAT? HOW DO YOU KNOW IT WAS THE YANKS THAT DID THIS TO YOU? WHAT THE HELL?
“Then it’s settled, Lexi Phantom, you are the Axis Ghost Dog or AGD for short.” Germany said standing up.
I love how they just TAKE IN A DOG THEY THINK THE ENEMY CREATED, OH GOD. AUTHOR YOU ARE A COMPLETE TWIT.
“But how is she here? It saids she had been experimented on, which explains a lot of things but were far from being in 2012!” Japan said.
*says. ‘Saids’ isn’t a WORD.
“I’m not sure, whoever did experiment on her probably sent her back to this time somehow. AGD follow me.” Germany said walking over to his tent. That’s when I realized I was in the past, but how? I was just in 2012.…now I’m back during World War two?
IT TOOK YOU THIS LONG TO NOTICE? WHAT, DID YOU HAVE A MENTAL BLANK WHEN THEY CALLED YOU THE ‘AXIS-FUCKING-POWERS GHOST DOG’?
I followed him to his tent and lied down by him.
*lay. I’m sure you lied to him, too.
“Ok, I’m sure you have learned about this already, we are in World War two, Me, Japan, and Italy are the main Axis Powers, America, England, France, Russia, and China, are the Allies. Bark once if you know what I’m talking about bark twice if no.” Germany said scratching my ear. I gave him one bark. ‘Yes, I did learn about this already, I know what’s going on right now…..but would me being here destroy the present? Or future?’ I thought to myself.
OH, FOR FUCK’S SAKE. WHY IS THIS REMOTELY NECESSARY?
“Good, then I won’t have to explain, we will head back to my place tomorrow,
You might want to be careful with that, dog-person. Nazi Germany didn’t like disfigured people, or those with ‘defects’ very much… I’m not sure how they’ll take a half human, half dog… Thing.
for now go to sleep you have a long day of training tomorrow.”
WAIT, WHAT?
Germany said walking out of the tent.
‘What did I just get myself into?’ I thought to myself, I did what he said and fell asleep, it was nice being on a warm blanket with another covering me.
A PRETTY GOOD QUESTION TO ASK. Horrible Histories probably has the answer.
I woke up and went out of the tent, ‘I must have been more tired then I thought I was.’ I thought to myself, I never noticed we were on a beach.
“Vee, Lexi, come here!” Italy said motioning me over to him.
I walked over to him and saw that they were roasting marshmallows.
“Want one?” he asked handing me a smore. I took it and quickly ate it. Been a long time since I had a smore. Italy patted my head and started roasting another marshmallow. That’s when we heard something from above.
“Listen to me in my total hero voice, guys, China, I choose you!” said an American. They all came down and started to attack.
WHOAH, COULD THIS BE A CORRECTLY WRITTEN SCENE?
“Damn it! The Allies found us!” Germany yelled. I was hiding behind Italy unsure of what to do.
“AGD, attack!”
…So, you have three nations. Who are supposedly immortal, and stronger than a human… And they send out a DOG-HUMAN THING? Clearly Germany is a tactical genius.
Germany said looking at me and pointed toward China. I obeyed and attacked China and bit his leg.
Again, the mental image of this is disgusting.
“Aiyaa! She bit me! Aru!” China yelled while Russia held up his faucet pipe at me. I looked over to him and started whimpering while letting go of China, he kicked me right after I let go of him. I shook my head and backed away a little.
“AGD! Attack again!” Germany yelled once more. I looked up at Russia and stayed where I was while America came over to me.
“What the hell did you do to her?” America asked coming down to my level and looking at Germany. Germany handed him the note. America read it,
“M-my government did this to you?”
HOW DO THEY KNOW IT WAS THE AMERICANS? AM I MISSING SOMETHING?
America asked with a sympathetic look. I nodded my head and whimpered. “I’m sorry they did this…maybe this time government can fix what they did to you and help you get back home!” he said jumping up in the air.
“Nein! She isn’t going back!” Germany said still in a yelling voice.
“HE SAID IN A YELLING VOICE.”
Because you couldn’t just write, y’know, ‘he yelled’?
“Are you serious? It’s for her best that she goes back and I’m sure she will find us all again in 2012. Right girl?” America said looking down at me. I barked and wagged my tail.
“See? And when she finds one of us, whoever it is better make sure this doesn’t happen again.” England said speaking up.
I barked again wanting my tail to be gone and my human ears back….but I still want to be half human, half ghost, half dog.
Whatever. This sucked. Majorly. The plot made no sense, had more holes than an anthill and was JUST GENERALLY HORRIBLE.
Photo with 11 notes
‘GERITA COSPLAY: Expect the Unexpected’, by http://sockseevil.deviantart.com/
Germany: http://sockseevil.deviantart.com/
Italy: http://princess-celestia-x.deviantart.com/
Source: sockseevil.deviantart.com
Post with 6 notes
‘WORLD MEETING ATTACK’
http://xxawesomehetaliafan.deviantart.com/#/d58ko90
Literally the best fanfic you will read all day. Go on, take a chance.
Trust us.
Post with 3 notes
Review: Weight (A USUK fanfic gone… Slightly disturbing and worryingly creepy).
Well, hello, there. Sorry about the wait, we’ve been trying to find you guys fanfics that are quite worth reviewing on this blog. I believe we’ve found the one WTF enough.
Please do remember that this blog is not only for ‘bad’ fanfics. We’re called ‘WTF Hetalia fanfiction’. However, bad writing and what-the-fuckery seem to go hand in hand.
This fanfic… Well, let’s just get started.
Weight
Authors Notes: I own nothing. I’ve wanted to write this fic for a long time now, because I feel like there aren’t enough of these.
Trust me. There are.
Warning: USUK
America had been getting chubby lately, but it didn’t mean that everyone had to point it out like they did. America owned a mirror, and he could see it was getting out of hand. For everyone to constantly tease him about it was just cruel.
Ugh, and from the first paragraph, we’re already questioning what the hell is going on. Firstly, is there any reason WHY America has been gaining so much weight recently? I mean, it’s canon that he eats A LOT. But he’s pretty slim any way. There’s a few theories on why this is the case (Having a super high mentabolism, ect.), but him having a large apetite is a part of his character. Is his mentabolism slowing down? Are you representing something going on in the country by making him suddenly become chubby?
EXPLAIN, AUTHOR! EXPLAIN!
Well not everyone teased him about it, it was mostly just the allied nations. Japan was way too polite to say anything about it, which America was grateful for, and Germany and Italy didn’t really care to say anything. America guessed they figured it was none of their business, which it wasn’t. The people who mentioned it the most, were the people who he loved the most.
You’re implying that there’s a multiple amount of people he ‘loves’. The only one I can really guess here is England (Not because this is a USUK fic, but because of their history), but then again, at the moment, he wouldn’t even admit to caring about England’s opinion. I can’t really see him giving a shit about anyone else. So… Why would you make that a plural? WHY WOULD YOU MENTION IT AT ALL?
At world meetings, when it was America’s turn to talk someone always brought up his weight issue. Usually it was France or England, and sometimes even China. They brought it up in the disguise of concern for the young nations health, but it always quickly escalated to insults.
And America gives a shit about what everyone else is saying because…?
America was in his own personal hell, when he woke up the morning of a world meeting. It was his turn to host, which gave the other countries every opportunity to take a jab at his chubbiness.
Hey, America.. I think I have a suggestion for you.
IF YOU’RE SO GODDAMN BOTHERED BY IT, LOSE THE FUCKING WEIGHT. OR, I DON’T KNOW, JUST DON’T LISTEN TO THEM? If it’s really that big of a problem, he would just go and see a bloody professional! It’s not that big of a deal!
Slowly, getting out of bed, he reached for his glasses and reluctantly slid this onto his chubby face. He desperately wanted to skip it, but that would be impossible because they were in his country.
Okay, I understand the writer for trying to add complexity to America’s weight problem by making him insecure. But trust me, it’s hardly developed. There’s NO backstory to it, NO DEVELOPMENT, no nothing! For some reason, in the fanfic, Alfred is suddenly as insecure as a bloody teenage girl! I’m sorry, but out of all the countries, the one that I’d least expect to be so insecure is AMERICA. Maybe, with a bit of development on HOW he got to this stage, I’d find it understandable. I could possibly even relate to his conflict.
HOWEVER.
Because of the lack of development, we are presented with an Alfred WHO IS SIMPLY OOC. That, along with the FUCKING CREEPY CHUBBY-CHASER ARTHUR (which we will get to, SOON), is the BIGGEST problem with this fic.
Putting on his clothes were a nightmare. His khaki’s were tight, and his white button up shirt would barely do their job and button.
If they’re so tight, why don’t you just get some new clothes, you bloody idiot?!
Skipping breakfast, he headed out the door and hailed a taxi cab. It was time to go to the circus, and put on a show as the only freak.
Skipping breakfast is not a good way to lose weight, dipshit.
Neither is getting no excercise.
No, seriously, I’ve read the whole fanfic up to date, and in NONE OF THE CHAPTERS SO FAR does Alfred get any excercise! Nor does he TRY to actually lose weight!
…I think I can see why he’s so fat.
In the taxi their words echoed through his head.
You’re so fat America!
Someone is eating too many burgers!
…That one is pretty true, though.
Fatso!
Isn’t that American sociolect?
…Which of the countries is yelling that at him?!
You’re such a pig!
Shaking his head to get rid of the hurtful thoughts, he looked at the taxi driver in the rear view mirror, “How are you doing?” the driver asked raising his eyebrows
“Living the dream,” America replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
The cab driver laughed as he braked in front of the conference building, “Have a good day!”
“Thanks, you too!” he yelled running into the building.
Once he arrived in the conference room, he noticed that he and England were the first to arrive. England had gotten there before him and was doodling on the black board like he always did. America was silent as he sat down in his chair. Pulling his brief case into his lap, he opened it and took out a burger he had stashed inside just in case he got hungry. Deciding to eat the burger before the rest of the nations arrived, he took a large bite.
Who the fuck eats a hamburger for-
Oh, right. America.
Savoring the taste as he chewed, he didn’t notice England staring at him with a strange look on his face, “Aren’t you fat enough America?” he said, unsure of his words.
…I’ll agree with England here. If you find yourself so fat, and have a problem with it…
Why don’t you try and substitute the fucking burgers?
The young nation looked from England to his burger, and tossed the meal into the trash, spitting out the bite he had just took into a napkin. Hunger pains brought tears to his eyes, but he decided in favor of forcing them down to prove a point to the Brit.
And what point is THAT? No, seriously, what is he trying to prove? O_o
For a slit second, a flash of guilt appeared on England’s face, “Hey, America I didn’t me-“
Then why did you say it, dipshit?
His words were interrupted by several other nations walking into the room. Popping some gum into his mouth to hide the smell of the burger and hold him over until lunch time, America looked at England, “Were you going to say something?”
The other nations were staring at the two, smirks plastered on a couple of their faces. England looked at them and swallowed his apology in favor of following the crowd, “No, you burger eating git!” he said making America’s empty stomach clench in sadness.
OOOH, MY STOMACH! IT CLENCHES IN SADNESS!
“Oh…”
Sitting down in his seat next to America, England’s own stomach clenched, but not in sadness, in guilt. As the meeting progressed, America’s stomach began to growl louder and louder. And with each growl, the more guilt England felt.
…England can hear it?
…Oh God, best mental image. So, there’s the world confrence, and everyone’s sitting down…
And suddenly America’s stomach starts being all GROWLY AS FUCK AND RUMBLING AND ALL THE COUNTRIES ARE LOOKING AT HIM LIKE “LOLWTF?”
…What?
I found it funny.
Why did he listen to me? Why does he care what I say? Has he been eating at all? Maybe I just stopped him from eating the only meal he’ll eat today! England thought, looking at his lap in shame. Maybe I should invite him for lunch…
“Hey America, do you want to go to lunch with me later?” he asked hoping the depressed American would say yes.
America looked at the Brit with his eyebrows knit together, “No thanks, I’m not hungry.”
He’s lying, I can hear his stomach growling! England thought scooting closer to America.
In reality, England actually liked watching America eat.
He was a closet nurturer, and he always worried about America’s diet. He was like those grandmothers who wanted to do nothing more than stuff their grandchildren until they were nice, plump, and healthy looking. Not to mention he thought watching America eat was completely sexy.
I just gagged a bit.
Of course, he couldn’t let the other nations know that. He’d be made into a pariah just like America.
“Oh come now, we can’t share a nice meal together?” England whispered, feeling the guilt eat away at his insides.
Don’t let him watch you eat, America! He’ll probably get aroused!
“No thanks dude, really… I’ve completely lost me appetite” he whispered, lying to his former care giver. Obviously, he was very hungry, but he couldn’t stand the looks of disgust people gave him when he ate, especially England’s.
Putting a hand on America’s knee, England looked to the front of the room where Germany was currently giving a lecture.
“Why are you touching me up, England?” Said America.
Suddenly, Germany said that it was America’s turn to speak. Looking at the other nations smirking faces, he knew the humiliation his former colony was about to face.
What humiliation? He’s just gotta talk.
“Recess!” he shouted, wanting save the American from humiliation.
More American sociolect. England wouldn’t say ‘recess’. Probably break, or time-out, or something like that.
Every nation looked at England like he had just slapped them in the face, for taking away their fun.
WHAT BLOODY FUN?!
“We’ve been sitting for a long time, and I desperately need to stretch my legs.” he explained to the German in charge.
Germany looked from America to England, understanding what the Englishmen was getting at, “Ja, we’ll go to lunch now. Everyone be back here in an hour and thirty minutes.”
…That’s a BLOODY LONG LUNCH BREAK. SWEET FUCKING JESUS.
Everyone stood up from their respective chairs and left the room, eager to eat lunch. All except America and England of course.
“Come on, love. I know you’re hungry, I could hear your tummy rumbling all through the meeting.”
America shook his head, “No, my stomach is just upset.” he lied again.
“America, please come with me, I’m sorry about what I said before.”
England, I know you want to watch America stuff his face for your pleasure, but he’s saying NO. You’re getting creepy ;A;
“Oh please, if you were really sorry you would have apologized in front of everyone, instead of making this feeble attempt to help yourself sleep better at night. I don’t want you feeling sorry for me England, and I damn sure don’t want to be your charity case!” America scolded, making a few left over nations gawk at them.
“No, poppet, it’s not like that at all! I just want to spend time with you!” England explained, truly wanting to make it up to the insecure nation.
…
…
…DID ENGLAND JUST SAY ‘POPPET’?
OH GOD, IT MUST BE 2P IN DISGUISE! D8
ALFRED, RUN!
“This is probably some trick to make me look like an idiot in public, so no thank you England! I refuse to be the butt of your joke!”
As the American began walking away, England followed him. The young nation reminded him when he was a little boy and got mad at England and stomped off somewhere in a huff. At that point he would offer the boy a sweet to make up for it, but he had a feeling that right now it wasn’t going to work.
“America… if you come back, I’ll get you an ice cream cone…” he tempted the young man who was now walking down a sidewalk in New York.
“Shut up England!” he yelled thinking the Brit was taking another jab at his weight.
“No, America I didn’t mean it that way!”
Taking refuge inside a nearby Starbucks, America sat down at a table ready to start bawling. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to get a latte, he stood up and fought back his tears as he glided up to the counter.
“Can I get a grande vanilla latte please?” he said taking out his credit card.
Sweet jesus, that’s a lot of calories.
As America started paying, England walked into the Starbucks, and got behind him, sneaking his hand into the American’s
HE’S TOUCHING YOU UP AGAIN. RUN, ALFRED, RUN!
“England! I thought I got rid of you!”
“Are we eating here? There’s not much to choose from, but I guess if you want to, we can.” he said ignoring the others protest.
“England, I told you I didn’t want your pity, go eat with France or something.”
Scrunching up his nose in disgust, “I don’t like France, you know that.”
“I’m not going to eat in front of you, and have you make fun of me again!”
Good choice. He might try to jack off while watching you.
The cashier was looking between them, with tears in her eyes. She was a lot more chubby than America, and knew his pain,
Uh… What?
Erm, what pain? Am I missing something here?
America just told England to bugger off because he didn’t like people watching him eat. He didn’t say WHY, so what is this random fat cashier relating this to?! WHAT IS GOING ON?!
“Arthur, you’re making the cashier upset! Go sit down, I’ll order for you!” he shouted giving in just to make England go sit down.
Well, it’s not Arthur’s fault that the cashier is so damn unprofessional.
“I’m sorry we upset you.” England apologized to the girl, hating to see women cry whether they were big or small.
“It’s okay… Can I take your order?” she said wiping her tears away.
I hope you get fired.
“Tea, two sandwiches, and a cupcake, please?” he ordered, thickening his accent in order to charm her.
Isn’t his accent already fairly thick? What, is he going to start going at full cockney?
Because that isn’t charming AT ALL.
She blushed and wrote down his order.
“Is that all?”
“Yes, thank you ducky.”
DUCKY.
DUCKY.
WHEN THE FUCK DID ENGLAND EVER SAY ‘DUCKY’ IN THE SERIES. IT ISN’T ANYWHERE NEAR ENGLISH SOCIOLECT OR SLANG. MAYBE ‘LOVE’ OR ‘SWEETIE’ OR SOMETHING. BUT WHAT THE FUCK IS ‘DUCKY’?! WHERE DID IT COME FROM?
Walking over to the counter where they would claim their order, America started looking around himself, paranoid that there would be a trap or prank waiting for him, “You must be hungry England, since you ordered two sandwiches and a cupcake.”
“I’m not eating them love, you are.”
I understand that Alfred is nearly a man (He’s nineteen. Still growing? I have no bloody clue.), but seriously? One sandwich I can barely finish! Ugh, thinking of having to stuff my face with TWO makes me feel bloody ill.
“I told you that I wasn’t hungry!”
“America, be a good boy and eat your lunch, it’s unhealthy to skip meals!”
“I said I didn’t want anything. We’re in a coffee shop England, because all I wanted was coffee. If I wanted a sandwich I would have gone to Subway!”
Before England could reply their order was brought to them. America only grabbed his coffee, while England grabbed his tea and other treats he would continue to beg America to eat.
Once they were seated, England continued to try to persuade America to eat, “America… please eat… this behavior is starting to scare me, poppet. I’m sorry about earlier, I just… I don’t know why I said it! Yes I do, it’s because I’m a big wanker… Please eat…”
“They all laugh at me…” America whispered, on the verge of tears once more.
“They’re not here now America…” he said sliding the food towards the starving American, feeling a pang of guilt in his chest.
America reluctantly took a sandwich into his hands, and unwrapped the plastic that was protecting it from germs and other parasites. Slowly, he took a small bite, causing England to blush and squirm in his seat.
I suddenly feel ALL DIRTY INSIDE.
God, I’m a perverted bugger, he thought watching America take a few more bites.
UGHHH I WANNA VOMIT.
Secretly, the Brit also loved the extra pounds America had recently put on. His chubby cheeks and slightly plump belly made England completely hot for the young man.
And don’t even get him started on his arse. That’s why he was always over compensating, by making fun of the plump nation.
I just vomited in my mouth.
“Eat more, America… You’re still so young and you need nourishment.”
“Dude, my bodies nineteen, I think I’m done with puberty.”
“Actually, young men still grow in their early twenties-” England was interrupted the site of three other nations walking into the Starbucks. It was France, Prussia, and Spain. France and Prussia were walking extremely fast to get to the now blushing American. Spain however was hot on their tails, trying to get them to stop whatever they were planning.
“Well hello Amerique. I see your eating again as always. Don’t you think you’ve had enough food for the day~” France teased. America bit his lip and looked at his lap.
“Shut it Frog, don’t you have something better to do?” England scolded, standing up from his chair.
“We just thought America could use a little strawberry shake.” Prussia said approaching the humiliated American.
America was fighting back tears as the ex nation poured the milkshake all over his head.
Had that been a slushie, I would have thought that Prussia had been watching too much glee. BUT WHY? WHAT IS GOING ON? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? BECAUSE HE’S FAT? Well, God, that’s a bit of an asshole move.
The entire cafe was looking at the nations in shock. Some were gasping and felt sorry for the pink covered nation, while others were laughing and pointing with no remorse at their own countries pain.
America just sat their for a moment, staring off into space. He couldn’t hear England curses at Prussia and France. He couldn’t hear Spain’s apologies and questions of ‘Are you all right, amigo?’ All he heard was the laughter, when suddenly he stood up, finally letting the tears fall freely, much to the four nations surprise.
Looking at England as if he had just killed his puppy, he cried, “How could you do this to me…?”
HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN TO MEEEE?
Without giving the shocked Brit time to explain himself, America ran out of the store, crying harder than he had ever cried before.
Before you ask, yes, I’m going to review the later chapters. Because they get even more FUCKING CREEPY and even more full of BULLSHIT.
I’m sorry, but WOW. Good God, for a fanfic written about a bunch of personified countries, I never thought it could get this unrealistic. America is now a whiny bitch, England… England is just FUCKING CREEPY, and the rest aren’t that much better.
If you’re going to write a fanfic like this, at least give it some backstory! Why is Alfred suddenly so overweight?! Why is he a whiny bitch about it? What caused him to become so out of character? Seriously! He just seems out of character, and that isn’t GOOD.
Post with 5 notes
Review: One Mistake Can Last Forever (Don’t worry, it probably doesn’t).
Good day, children. We apologise for the lack of updating on this blog. We were low on staff, and the ones that had access to tumblr were either hard at work (it’s England. We’re not on summer hols yet) or writing fanfics of our own (I finished something! Yay!).
Today’s ‘story’ is a shoddy fanfic from our usual shoddy art site.
It’s dumb and hilariously silly. But that’s what makes it a worthwhile bit of review material.
Let’s begin.
Today was a happy day for Italy, but everyday was a happy day for Italy. Today was extra special. Today Italy got the okay from his boss and Germany’s boss to go on vacation together.
Well, this doesn’t seem too bad as an opening paragraph. I’m not too fond of the repetition of the word ‘today’, but I do see what the author was trying to achieve. The last part is a bit iffy, as I’m not all too sure how Italy had convinced them to let them go on holiday, but I’ll let it slide. Another question would be WHY Italy wants to do all this, but hey-ho.
The grammar seems okay for now, and there’s no real BIG mistakes.
Therefore, it has been an opening paragraph…
(please do bear in mind that one of these is pretty rare on this blog).
Italy talked to America’s sister, Hawaii, and she promised Italy that she would get him a really big room. Italy was really happy about that.
This could be a biiiit more specific. So, I’m guessing that Italy is going to have his holiday in Hawaii’s (Why Hawaii? This could be explained, as the paragraph seems quite lacking in detail) house.
Luckily, Germany’s boss allowed Italy to tell Germany about the trip so Germany was completely clueless about it all.
Well, nothing can really go wrong here. Seriously?! Who’s idea was it to leave to ITALY to tell him?
Italy skipped up to Germany’s house with a big smile on his face. He knocked and happily waited for Germany to answer the door.
Prussia opened the door. “Guten tag Italy, West isn’t here right now.”
Italy’s smile disappeared. “Oh,” he said. “Can I wait for him? I have good news for him.”
“Sure, come in and sit down.” Prussia said, letting Italy in.
This dialogue is so gripping.
Prussia was talking to Romano a few days earlier and had a plan. Romano talked Prussia into getting Italy and Germany to break up.
…
UH.
DID I MISS SOMETHING? This is the first chapter of the fic, and there’s no prologue, so nope. This is all the introduction we get to…
Well, the main plotpoint. IF YOU CAN FUCKING CALL IT THAT.
WHY?
I can understand Romano not liking Germany very much, but he loves his brother enoughnot to OUTRIGHT TRY AND BREAK THE TWO UP OUT OF NOWEHERE. WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?
AND PRUSSIA. WHY ARE YOU GETTING INVOLVED?!
Italy and Germany had been dating for three years and Prussia thought that was long enough.
WELL,OKAY. THAT MAKES SENSE. THEY MUST HAVE PASSED THEIR DATING TRIAL TIME OF THIRTY DAYS.
SERIOUSLY?! IN WHAT WORLD IS THIS A LOGICAL OR REASONABLE JUSTIFICATION FOR BREAKING THE TWO UP?!?!?!?
Italy sat down on the love seat that he lost his virginity on to Germany.
I just laughed so hard that juice spilt everywhere.
Italy started to blush when he thought of the memory.
I bet he’s sitting where he jizzed as well.
Prussia sat on the recliner next to the love seat.
“So, What is this good news that you want to tell west?” Prussia asked.
Italy looked at Prussia and his big smile came back. “Ve, I’m bringing Doitsu to Hawaii for a vacation. Doitsu’s boss is letting me tell him.”
Oh, Italy. Why are you talking in Japanese?
“Oh, Kesesese, so you two are going to have some fun?” Prussia said.
I can’t take this seriously after the description of the loveseat.Also, is Prussia talking in Japanese as well?!
“Si! There will be food and beer and wine and we are going to have a big room.” Italy said happily.
…Am I seriously the only one finding this overtly sexual?
…Or am I just becoming a huge-ass perv?
Prussia leaned back in the chair and put his hands behind his head. “Well, I don’t think west will want to go.” Prussia said.
No, Prussia! YOU DON’T HAVE TO GO WITH THIS STUPID PLAN, GILBO. JUST BACK OUT! THERE’S STILL HOPE!
“Ve?”
“Last night I heard West say that he was sick of you and was considering breaking up with you.”
…
Gilbert.
Is this seriously your plan?
Italy, I know you can be a bit of an airhead, but please don’t tell me that you’re fucking DUMB enough to fall for-
“I don’t believe you.” Italy said, feeling his heart breaking. “You’re lying!”
First I read his first words and was all shocked because I thought that Italy was actually being written well.
Then I read the part about his heart and clung my head in shame for the Italian, as already saw where this was going.
Prussia put his hands down and shook his head. “I wish I was but i heard it with my own two ears.”
Legitimate evidence, everyone.
Germany walked through the door and saw Italy crying.
“Italy? Are you okay?” Germany asked.
Italy got up and ran out of Germany’s house, brushing past Germany.
Hey, guys. Remember the episode where England did this exact same thing to Italy, and Italy was mildly upset but inquired Germany about it, because that’s the kind of guy he is?
Yeah, I miss that Italy.
Germany grabbed Italy’s arm. “Italy, what’s wrong?”
Italy struggled and tried to break away from Germany. But Germany just pulled Italy into his arms.
“No! Let me go!” Italy yelled, struggling to be let go.
Germany put his gloved hand on Italy’s face and pulled him into a kiss. Italy relaxed a little but pushed away and ran away when Germany tried to deepen the kiss.
Bearing in mind how strong Italy is compared to Germany, I have trouble imagining this.
Germany stood there confused for a bit. He walked into the house and looked at Prussia.
“What’s up, West?” Prussia said, smiling.
“What the hell did you do?!” Germany yelled.
Yes, Ludwig. Assume that it’s all you brother’s fault from nowhere.
“Mien Gott West, what makes you think I did anything?” Prussia went to the kitchen to get a beer.
Oh, Gilbo. You so German.
Germany followed him in. “Why was he crying?”
“He just started crying on his own. He said something about falling in love with someone else and wanting to break up with you.” Prussia took a drink of his beer as Germany ran out of the house to go find Italy.
Seems equally as legit.
————————
Italy ran over to France’s house. He was hoping France could help him get Germany to love him again.
A surprisingly strategic move. I’m impressed.
He knocked on the door and wiped away his tears.
Instead of France answering the door, Bella, France’s little sister, answered the door.
And what DO YOU represent?
“Bonjour Italy, What’s wrong?” Bella asked.
No, seriously. Who the fuck are you?!
Ciao Bella, Is France here?”
“No but I can help you.” Bella said. Italy nodded and Bella lead him to the living room. “Do you want me to make you some pasta?”
Two bits of dialogue and I already dislike this OC.
Italy nodded and made a quick pot of pasta. She placed a bowl of pasta in front of him. Italy just looked at the bowl. Tears were still flowing down his cheeks.
OH, THE DRAMA.
Bella sat on the floor next to him. She put her hand on his leg. “Are you okay?” she asked.
WHOAH, BELLA. WE JUST MET! YOU’RE MOVING FAR TOO FAST!
Italy shook his head. “Germany wants to break up with me. He found someone else, I guess. At least that’s what Prussia told me.”
“Prussia? Prussia said this?” Italy nodded and Bella started to laugh. “Oh my! What does he know?! I talked to Germany last night and he told me he couldn’t love anyone more than he loved you.” she said.
AND WHY THE FUCK WOULD HE BE INTERESTED IN YOU, UNIMPORTANT OC?
Italy sniffled. “Really?”
“Yes!” Bella said.
“So he isn’t leaving me?! Fantastico!” Italy said happily. Italy leaned down and gave Bella a big hug.
Oi, Italy. You may want to visit a psychiatrist about that bi-polarness.
———————-
Germany Ran to Italy’s house and pounded on the door.
Romano answered the door and he was in a skimpy, little French maid outfit.
Germany blushed deep red and covered his eyes. Romano got pissed and covered himself with a blanket.
…WHAT THE HELL?
“What the hell do you want?” Romano yelled.
“Is Italy here?” Germany asked, keeping his eyes covered.
Germany. It’s a maids outfit.
NOW MAN THE FUCK UP, AND LOOK AT HIM.
“Eat lead you potato sucking bastard. He’s at France’s. Now fuck off, I’m busy.” Romano said, slamming the door in Germany’s face.
I’m sorry, but what just happened?
I mean…
There was Romano.
THEN GERMANY.
Then there was a maid outfit…
It was all a blur!
Germany ran to France’s. He stopped in front of France’s to catch his breath. He looked through France’s living room window and saw Italy with Bella. He ran away when he saw Italy hug Bella.
Jesus fucking Christ.
This started out alright.
But then slowly descended into STUPID. AND SLOWLY DOWN INTO WTF.
WHY ARE PRUSSIA AND ROMANO TRYING TO BREAK THEM UP?WHO IS BELLA?
AND WILL WE EVER FIND OUT WHY ROMANO WAS WEARING A… MAID’S OUTFIT?
