Showing why reader inserts just don't work, one critique at a time. Send in Hetalia reader inserts! I want the good, the bad, the disturbing--make me cringe, guys! Parodies also welcome. All criticism here will be constructive, but if you're truly hurt, just ask politely and we'll take the critique down. If you're rude then...well, you're out of luck.
Something about seeing "Life. Sucks." as the first two words of this fic fills me with dread.
Okay, well let's see how author addresses depression. Would it be too much to hope that this is dealt with in a tasteful manner? I suppose, considering the medium...I shouldn't get my hopes up.
(Ha, I love how we give the 'reader' attributes now, so people can know what they're getting into. DEPRESSED!READER. Satan!Reader. Alonereadingxreaders!Reader)
Story beneath the cut.
"Are you OK?"
You angrily opened your phone again [Do people seriously give their characters flip phones just so they can angrily snap them open and shut?] and replied,
"If you cared about whether or not I'm 'ok,' you would think about me when you tell everyone else something and not me. Why am I not good enough to know these things? Don't talk to me again."
You simply got a text from Antonio,
"Don't talk to my Lovi like that." [Poor hatesSpamano!reader.]
~~~~~~~~~~
"You said you would be home two hours ago!" your mom yelled from the kitchen when she heard the door open.
"Mom, leave me alone!" you scream and run to your room, locking the door and throwing yourself on your bed, hugging the tomato pillow Lovino had given you for your birthday. [Where does someone even find something like that?]
"______, open the door!" your mom calls from the other side of the door. [Implied.]
"Go away! Leave me alone!" you scream, throwing a stuffed white bear holding a red heart saying "Mommy's Little Girl" on it at the door. [Was that detail really necessary.]There was a pause from the other side of the door.
"Dinner will be on the counter when you come out," your mother calls as she walks away.
'I'm never eating again.' you think to yourself, you stood up and walked over to your dresser. You took off your jacket and opened the top drawer and dug to the bottom and pulled out a knife you've been hiding there for a while now. You looked at your arm, it looked pretty bad already [How so?]. You sat down and set the knife on your skin, only to be interrupted by a phone call. It was Lovino. You sighed and put the knife down. [This is getting really overdramatic. Author, you aren't treating real life issues with the respect they deserve. Cutting isn't just something you can randomly throw into a story, especially since you didn't even bother with characterization. So far all I'm getting is, "WAHHH MY LIFE SUUUUCKS AND MY LOVE INTEREST IS GAY GONNA CUT WAAAAHHHH I JUST WANT ATTENTIONNNN". People who cut have real issues and resort to that because they cannot function otherwise. They're pushed to that because they've hit so far down that they cannot see where they fell from. This situation you've put the reader in is just...stupid. And trivial. I redub depressed!reader into whinyentitledbrat!reader.]
"Hello?" You whispered into the phone.
"_______?" Lovino asked from the other line. He never called you by your real name, he would usually call you (nickname you hate) [...okay???] You sighed and moved your (h/l) (h/c) [Fucking shit. We almost got through a fic without (h/l)] hair out of your face.
"Yeah?" you muttered.
"Why were you so mad at me earlier? What did I do?"
"You know very well what you did! Why don't you ever tell me when you do something?! You've been dating Antonio for a MONTH?! Why didn't you tell me?! It would have been easier on me then Letting me figure out by Elizabetha and Mei!" [Maybe because whinyentitledbrat!reader would react like a little brat and make Lovino's life choices into an "END OF THE WORLD OMGGGG" issue.]
"__-_____!" Lovino shouted your name.
[I'm sorry, every time I see the blanks and the stuttering, I think morse code. Really kills the mood.]
"No, all you're going to do is apologize and make an excuse! I'm done with that! I'm done with everything! When I said don't talk to me, I meant DON'T TALK TO ME!" You hang up the phone and pick up the knife, dragging it across your skin. [Really though. If you guys could see my face right now. I'll give you a hint: it's not impressed.]
~LE (not so) AWESOME TIME SKIP BROUGHT TO YOU BY (Spain) PRUSSIA~ [What.]
"______! What were you thinking?!" Elizabetha screams at you as you two left the store you were in. Her dragging you by the wrist to her own house.
"I-I..." You started, stuttering as you thought about how in the world Elizabetha figured out about your... for lack of a better word... problem. "I don't know..."
"If you don't know, who does?!" Yep. She was officially freaking out. And this is why you didn't want her to know. [Oh look, reader understands how Lovino feels now.] You stopped walking as you saw Lovino walking by on the other side of the road, head downcast and... alone? Antonio was always with him.
"Elizabetha, let me go," you demanded softly, keeping your eyes locked on Lovi. Elizabetha traced your gaze and tilted her head.
"Didn't you hear?" she muttered sympathetically, "He and Antonio broke up two weeks ago. He didn't want to talk to you because he didn't want to hurt you any more, his words exactly," she released your arms. [Convenient.]
Your legs took a mind of their own. Before you knew it you had jump-glomped Lovino. [The fuck does that even look like? What happened to never talking to him again?]
To the ground.
You didn't notice.
He looked surprised at first, then when he realized who it was, and that you two were in a *ahem* quite awkward position, [How does this count as description?] he blushed deep red and pushed you off, yelling, "Get off me, cagn-" stopping mid-insult to stare at your arm, which the sleeve had been pushed up, reveling the many scars on your arm. [Also convenient. Look reader, you got what you wanted.]
"S-Sorry," you stutter, quickly hiding the scars.
Before you knew it, Lovino had grabbed your arm and pushed your sleeve up. "W-What the hell?!" He yelled at you, "What is this!"
"I-It's nothing!" You say shakily.
"Nothing my ass! Did you do this to yourself?!"
You started to cry. You have no idea where the tears came from, but you started to bawl. [Reader, stop kidding yourself.]
"(nickname you hate)..." [(nickname you hate) = "he who must not be named" from now on. I am Voldemort. Thank.]
"Don't call me that!" You scream between sobs, "You want to know why I did?! My parents hate me! My teachers hate me!" You try to yank your arm away, "YOU hate me!" [Actually, I think Needstogetoverherself!reader was the one who shoved Lovino away, not vice versa. Also, since this story contains no actual evidence of her parents or teachers hating reader, I'll assume she's just being melodramatic as usual.]
Lovino's gaze suddenly went blank and he let go of your arm, which sent you flying onto your back. [...How?] He picked you up and brought you to his house, as much as you fought, he brought you to his room.
"Now we can talk in private." He set you down on the bed and took off his jacket. Then suddenly you felt something warm and soft press against your lips. [How is this acceptable?]
He was kissing you. Lovino Vargas, was kissing you. You quickly pushed him away. "W-what the hell?!" you scream. "One minute you tell me nothing and the next, you're kissing me?!" [Great job, reader, you manipulated Lovino and shoved him into this corner. Great way to start a relationship.]
"_________, listen" Lovino was completely serious. "I didn't tell you because I knew you were stressed enough. I didn't want you to hurt yourself," He rubbed your arm. "Too late for that though..."
"Y-you don't hate me..?" [What are you, 12?]
"Of course not! Why the hell do you think I do?"
"I-I... You were dating Antonio... And he and I don't get along at all... So I thought you were trying to tell me to get out of your life or something..." [Is everything about you, reader? Obviously EVERY decision that anyone makes EVER is a direct attack on you. That man who chose tea instead of coffee? He did it because he hates your shoes.]
"No!" Lovino's eyes softened and he sighed, "I'm sorry I made you think that..." He stopped and looked at the floor, his face was as red as a tomato, "Actually... Ti amo..."
"Wha..?" you looked at him in surprise. Tears instantly sprang into your eyes and you hugged him tightly around the neck. "You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear that!" You cried happily.
Then, something happened that you never thought you would ever see.
Lovino smiled.
I've never noped harder in my life.
Author just trivialized depression and turned reader into a self-absorbed entitled whiny brat who cuts for attention and thinks the world revolves around her. Reader acts and sounds like a 12 year old.
Let's not talk about syntax and grammar, because I'm not in the mood to get a red pen out.
Why is this in script format? Though, if we're truly honest with ourselves, this will probably contain the same amount of half-assed description as the average xreader. I see the name Eugene in this. Is that reader?
...
wait
nope
the author's notes masqueraded as story. Who the fuck takes up half the wordcount on author's notes AND has a conversation with the main characters? What even?
Below the cut, as usual
Eugene: Wow, Norway-kun, I didn't know you have a violin. You know how to play it?
[What are we Japanese now?]
Norway: Yes. *holds violin in arm*
[Oh and to top it off, we even have asterisks. Two can play that game: *headdesks*]
Eugene: Then.. you know how to play "Fairytale" by Alexander Rybak? I heard it from a couple Youtube videos lately and his song used to be the winner for Eurovision 2009..
Norway: *smiles a bit* Of course. Do you want me to play it?
Eugene: Hehe, ok! ^.^ [How exactly is ^.^ pronounced? CARROT PERIOD CARROT, NORWAY, YOU SO SUGOI-DESU COLON RIGHT PARENTHESIS, EX DEEEE] Yeah, this is a songfic (a real one this time, unlike "Spectra's Lament", which had edited lyrics) [...Was that an author's note?] and that's the first time trying out a real one so yeah.. this will be interesting. This is based on "Fairytale" by Alexander Rybak; he's born in Belarus (haha, he ain't psycho like she is!) but then moved to Norway when he was little. He played the violin and the piano (well, as a hobby). I really like the song and for some reason, every time I listen to it now, it reminds me of Norway-kun. *^^* This is also ReaderXNorway (like in one of my one-shots from "5 Days of Nordic Winter") so you get to enjoy listening to it as you're reading this (and it's also one of my Valentine's Day stories before February 14th so it has a bit of it in there). It may have mentions of "Cinderella" though... ONWARD WITH THE SONGFIC! MY NORWEGIAN FAIRYTALE!
[What the fuck just happened. Why was that randomly inserted in the middle of the 'story'.]
Denmark: Hold it! Ain't the song all angsty?'
[Where did Denmark come from?]
Eugene: Yeah.. kinda. TT TT [TEETEE TEETEE. Eugene sure makes a lot of quirky sounds.] But this one will have no break-ups or anything, although there'll be some drama. Few misunderstandings in there but eventually it'll get better at the end. [...Is this whole thing just a bit author's note?!?! Does author seriously have a script convo with fictional characters? Then uses it as a lead up, like an old grandma discovering some priceless object and fading into a story?]
Years ago, when I was younger,
I kinda liked a girl I knew.
She was mine, and we were sweethearts.
That was then, but then it's true…
The bell rung loudly and school was just over for the day. Students were excited about Valentine's Day coming up; the older kids planning on upcoming dates, make-out sessions, etc.. while the younger ones chattered on about how many cards they might receive this year and what kinds of candy or chocolate they would eat. Another thing in everyone else's mind was the upcoming school dance. For Valentine's Day! And get this, that's the first time the teachers finally allowed a dance for couples only!
[I think the script was easier on my mind than this.]
You headed straight to your cream-coloured locker and was about to get your stuff put away in there when you encountered Norway, your emotional-less-looking yet sweet boyfriend, doing the same as he gently placed a textbook inside his seafoam-blue locker, one locker away from yours.
[Why are the lockers different colors? Also, I can understand an AU, but reader is dating the actual nation of Norway?]
"Hey," You tiptoed next to him and puckered your lips into a pink rosebud, expecting a kiss. He seemed unsure of this at first but eventually settled in for giving you a soft kiss on the lips. "How was class doing?" You asked him as you began to put one of your binders in your own locker.
"Mm, it's the same as usual. Den's being more annoying though.." Norway grimaced as he mentioned Denmark, one of his friends.
[Either this or the parents were feeling particularly drunk and named their kids after nations. Kanye, you are now in second place for most absurd name, sorry. Try harder next pregnancy. ]
"How come?"
"….I don't know. He usually does it around me.." Norway slammed the locker door shut and slung his black backpack over his shoulder as he faced you. "Do you have plans for Valentine's Day, [Name]?"
"Um.. I'm not sure, really. I'm still planning to go to the Valentine's Dance though; many people are talking about it! Check it!" You gestured to the chattering students talking about that mentioned topic. "I was thinking that we should go together as a couple there maybe and-" then you realized something. You checked your watch. "Aw man! I gotta head back home quickly!"
"…why? Going somewhere?" Norway's hazy-looking dark blue eyes narrowed as he said it.
"Not really, but my parents gotta pick me up and drop me home before they head to work; they're starting afternoon shifts." You locked the locker door and slung your backpack over your arm before dashing off like a bolt of lightning. "Later, Norway!"
He was about to say something to you but only watched you leave, looking like Cinderella after the clock struck at midnight just when she's about to kiss her Prince Charming but then was forced to leave due to the magic wearing off. He noticed that you dropped something though; it was the silver sailboat necklace that he gave you when you two started dating. At this condition, he reminded you of Cinderella, something out of a fairytale.
[Okay, wait wait wait WAIT. Reader kisses him on the lips but they're not dating (anymore?) and suddenly reader is unattainable? Also leaving quickly from school isn't exactly BELL STRIKES MIDNIGHT material. They attend the same school and already have a relationship.]
I'm in love~ with a fairytale~,
even though~ it hurts.
'Cause I don't care~ if I lose my mind;
I'm already cursed~.
The next day, 6 days before the Valentine's Day Dance (it will take place Tuesday night during Valentine's Day) [Um, okay?], you arrived about 30 minutes early before your first class started. Norway wasn't in his locker, you realized as you gathered your stuff, but you saw Denmark instead.
"Hahaha! Hey cutie, where did Norge go?" He asked you with his cocky grin.
You sighed. "I don't know. He's not at school yet- what are you doing?" Denmark then slammed your back to the lockers and put his hands on each side so that you won't escape and that you're facing him.
"Damn, [Name], you've been hanging around with Nor a lot, but why not give other guys like me a chance, huh?" He breathed out in a husky, predatory voice. You felt nervous.
[...Well that was sudden.]
"[Name]? You dropped your-" Norway came into the scene and suddenly, he saw it. He saw Denmark who was ABOUT to kiss you. Straight on the lips! His face reddened in anger; Denmark nearly stole you from him!
[This screams Gossip Girl.]
"Denmark…" Norway said in this eerie voice, orange aura creeping out. "Leave her alone. NOW." That scared Denmark so he scampered away, sweatdropping in fear.
[Sweatdropping in fear? What? Also, orange aura creeping out? Norway might want to see a doctor, he's leaking poisonous gases.]
He then caught your gaze, the expression softened but still in a sort-of glaring look. [I don't know what that's supposed to look like] Luckily, the bell for the first class rang to snap him out. Not wanting to be late, you dashed off again. Norway managed to calm down as he headed to his class. But he still felt angry at Denmark, stupid Dane for stealing you! Part of him wanted to send his trolls to fight him off but then again [...the typical high schooler doesn't have a legion of trolls at his disposal. This isn't Homestuck.], Norway sighed, he'll be too dense to notice. As the day slowly went on, he saw another problem; it's not just Denmark who's after you, but now other guys (the ones that are slightly shallow) wanted you to themselves, too [...Why? And what evidence suggests so?]. Now he was thinking about wanting to defeat them in a fight, just like him as a Viking, but with his trolls, fairies, and other magical creatures. [Who let this kid escape from the mental institute? Does author not understand the idea behind human AU? Unless this is one of those "Emperor's New School" things.] It's not like that they'll last, right..? Also, he felt like fighting on you for letting this happen by the day, but that'll mean that he'll think of his love for you by night time. He sighed, it felt like he's in his own curse. A curse of getting his true love taken away.
Every day, we started fighting,
every night, we fell in love.
No one else could make me sadder,
but no one else could lift me high above~.
For the next 3 days, Norway tried to fend the other lovers off, but they just pushed him away, calling him "the silent Norwegian freak" or something like that. [Way to summarize potential action in a story, thus rendering it completely boring.] As for Denmark, Norway would just slap him or choke him for a few minutes. But nevertheless, it wasn't working for him. It's like the curse just got further into his soul and began to make him both overprotective and weak.
I don't know what I was doing,
when suddenly, we fell apart~.
But at the same time, he couldn't find you. He was not sure what happened but he presumed that you were just busy with your classes, trying to get your homework done before the dance… at least that's what he thought.
Nowadays, I cannot find her.
But when I do, we'll get a brand new start~.
The remaining days passed and it's just 1 day before the dance. However, Norway started to worry in his mind, what if you ditched him and began to dating someone else? Will you two still be friends? Or..
"Nor-kun?" A small voice interrupted him. He turned to find Finland, [I didn't know that Finland was Japanese.] one of Norway's other friends, as well as Sweden (one of his friends and Finland's "boyfriend", since he has feelings for him) and Iceland, his younger brother.
"What?"
"Wh't's th' m'tter?" Sweden asked in his Tohoku accent. [I'D LIKE TO BUY A VOWEL, PLEASE, SINCE SWEDEN OBVIOUSLY CANNOT AFFORD THEM.
...
...
How does Sweden pronounce "Ikea"?]
Norway sighed, there's no way of lying out of this. Not in front of his friends and brother. "It's Denmark. And the other idiots in the school; they were all trying to steal [Name] away from me."
Then Denmark came in, holding a glass mug full of beer. [WAIT. ARE THEY AT SCHOOL?] "Hey, hey, hey! What's going on?" Then he saw Norway by the face. "Uh-oh…"
Norway strode over and grabbed the Danish boy by the collar of his shirt. "Why. Did you. Try to. Steal. [Name]. From me." He demanded, saying 1 or 2 words at a time. [I got the idea by the periods stuck after every other word.]
"I-" In the Norwegian boy's surprise, Denmark was about to protest but then began to feel guilty; something that rarely happened to him. "I'm sorry, Nor! But [Name] was so~ pretty! And nice." He mentally added, trying hard not to be choked. "I just didn't know that you cared for her more than anything! JUST DON'T KILL ME~!"
[I just...what?]
Norway attempted to strange Denmark harder when his words started to sink into his brain. Realizing that he may be right, he let the struggling guy go. "…maybe you're right. That goes for the other idiots."
"But what about Miss [Name]? She's probably heartbroken.." Iceland then pointed out.
The words sunk in yet again and Norway realized that if he's going to set things straight, he'll have to apologize to you… and in his dreadfulness, right at the Valentine's Day Dance. In front of everybody. [Not necessarily??] At this point, Norway's like the prince; desperate to find the girl he fell in love with so that he can return the glass slipper to her. But there is no glass slipper (although you have a similar-looking pair for the dance, anyway [Thank you for that random piece of information that I didn't care to know.]), just a silver sailboat necklace unclasped from the neck. Also, he must keep the relationship from falling and breaking if he should make things right. [I didn't see how the relationship was damaged? He just hadn't seen reader in a few days.]
I'm in love~ with a fairytale~,
even though~ it hurts.
'Cause I don't care~ if I loose my mind;
I'm already cursed~.
[Tildes, though.]
Finally, it was the day. Valentine's Day. Tuesday. February. 14 [Yes, that is when Valentine's Day falls.], 2012. School went normal, except for a couple exchanges of cards, chocolate, and candy as well as a few love-related games set by the teachers [Um.]. It was night time now and the dance was taking place in the school cafeteria. There were streamers, balloons, paper hearts, doves, and roses everywhere, all in shades of pink, red, gold, silver, and white. [That was the most boring presentation of information imaginable.] Most students had their dates with them, some just hanging out with their friends, or went stag (that means going single without a date for a party/event) [I thought this was a couple's only dance.]. You had to go stag because basically, you couldn't find Norway 6 days ago after Denmark almost kissed you (and straight on the lips, what the heck!). You had fun, dancing and chatting with your friends. 2 things were bothering you a little though. 1. Norway's not with you. And 2. Your sailboat necklace was missing. You couldn't find it anywhere and you started to feel a little down about it because Norway gave it to you when you both started dating and your first date together happened to be in a waterfront close to the city, since he knew that you always wanted to travel by sea one day.
The pop music from the DJ was done playing and the music changed to "All You Need Is Love" by The Beetles. [The Beatles. Unless you mean literal beetles, then okay.] It was in ballroom couples dancing mode, which means that all couples must dance right out to the dance floor and properly. Everyone tried to dance formally, like in the olden days or in galas, but they were awkward. Really awkward…
Norway was there, of course, along with Finland, Sweden, Iceland, and Denmark. Finland and Sweden were together (the first guy/guy couple ever in your school) [Perhaps openly, but probably not the first.], Iceland was with another girl and so was Denmark… well, more than 1 actually (yeah, Denmark was that hot and popular.. idiot, Norway thought). Norway had to go stag at this moment but he didn't care; he just wanted to find you. Then he encountered you. Here. Leaning at the wall watching the other couples dancing awkwardly was you [I read that in Mojo Jojo's voice.]. You were wearing an ankle-length dress with spaghetti straps and it was pink, the kind you would see from a fair lady's cheeks when she's blushing. The skirt of the dress had a small train in opaque white and it had glittery stars while you also wore a small white elbow-length vest with pleated sleeves, like in a princess's long-sleeved gown. This will be slightly tricky for Norway, for you looked an elfin maiden overpowered by the shadows but then stood out by such radiance.
[What. Also, tense changes all over the place. It hurts.]
She's a fairytale~
Yeah…
even though~ it hurts.
[hurts as much as the overuse of tildes and the tense changes. I'm glad we're on the same page here.]
"[Name]?"
You gasped out in surprised and turned to find Norway, trying hard not to look like he's the rejecter or something. And believe me, it's hard to do so in a suit. Now that he's here.. somehow, you felt like you were in a verge of freaking out in insanity.
"Oh my gosh! Norway, please don't kill me! Denmark didn't really kiss me! He almost did but I was only trying to stop him since he kinda fell for me like those other guys and-"
"Shh.." He shushed you, placing a finger between your lips to keep you quiet for a few minutes. "I know; Denmark confessed it to me yesterday. You know that you would never cheat on me."
["You know that you would never cheat on me" sounds like a threat.]
"…" The finger was removed [Surgically?] and you meekly said, "…I wouldn't. I wouldn't cheat on your forever!" Then you realized that since Norway wasn't really that angry right now since Denmark told him about the truth about the 'You're so cute, I wanna kiss you' part and about the other guys doing the similar thing.. "You forgive me?"
The Norwegian nodded solemnly. Then he used his pale, slender fingers to tilt your chin up, making you look into his blue eyes. "But the question is, do you forgive me, [Name]?"
You gave some thought to it. As you have learned from stuff from other couples to fanfictions of your favourite anime and TV shows, love, as well as forgiveness comes from the heart and it must be truthful. And judging from what Norway really meant, then..
[Did you seriously just-- okay. Well, I'm glad that author/reader learned important life lessons from their fanfictions. All I learned was how gay sex worked.]
Voice almost choked, you said, "..I-I do." before Norway suddenly pulled you close and kissed you with soft but passionate force. Everyone, the students, the teachers, and even the DJ, saw the very scene and went "Awwww~", finding it very romantic. [Somehow I doubt that everyone's attention just magically snapped onto reader's speshul moment-desu. Also that's the sort of thing that teachers break up at dances.]
The DJ, still awed up by the romantic moment, put up the song "Fairytale" by Alexander Rybak as the other one was done playing anyway. Everyone else danced again as the intense violin sound echoed the cafeteria.
Norway took you by the hand and asked you casually, "Shall we dance, my lady?". You nodded shyly and allowed him to led you dancing in the dance floor, with everyone watching.
'Cause I don't care~ if I loose my mind;
I'malready cursed~.
"Jeg elsker deg." Norway whispered to your ear, the words making you shiver as it was cool to your bare neck. It was Norwegian, of course, but luckily, you knew what it meant since he told you that once. It means, "I love you." You also heard him mutter "Happy Valentine's Day, [Name]." before the song ended. You just let yourself close to him as you felt the familiar cool metal on your neck; he was putting your precious sailboat necklace on you again, back to where it belongs.
Norway is now not in that curse anymore and it's a bit like the part when the prince married Cinderella after he found the one who fit the glass slipper, but different. People say that happy endings are only for fairytales but at this case, it's technically kinda like one so it is a fairytale after all. And this is one is definitely a happy ending.
[When did he even get the curse put on him and how?]
Okay, that's 15 minutes of my life I'm never getting back. Awkward writing, awkwardly placed author's notes, awkward everything.
Ah, I'm the author of the M!Reader x England fic. Thank you so much for that critique- it's really useful and I'll edit based on those points you raised. Again, thank you so much.
You're very welcome, and I wish you luck with your editing!
Crack!
Glass rains down around you in a radiant cascade of tiny reflections and prismatic colors. The buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the fourth quarter. You had just made the game-winning slam dunk.
Yes, you.
Because I know you better than yourself, and I say you're a basketball all-star. And you can leap ten feet in the air. Yup. It's true. Also, you're a hot, slender-figured young woman with a smoking set of tits. I know it may be called a "reader insert," but this is my story and you'll be whoever the hell I tell you to be.
[Thank you, kind author.]
"Hey, ________!" the fictional character of your choice calls out to you from the stand, "I want 2 hve smexy but sekz wit u." The spelling and grammar errors were so numerous that they were even audible.
As you stalk off of the court towards the previously mentioned fictional character to engage him in an intense bout of anal fornication, a thought occurs to you. You thought, with the few brain cells in your possession, that it was funny how I bothered to create (albeit absolutely false) details and interests that would help to create a well-thought out character, but only half-assed it and put a giant blank space over all the important details such as your name.
But, you stop thinking and let this fictional character fuck you senseless in the middle of a basketball court because that's just the kind of person I know you are.
Hopefully, he breaks your pelvis, and you bleed to death.
I have absolutely nothing to add.
Author, you get a standing ovation, and thanks for the titties. Appreciate it.
First review from this blog in a few months! I believe this was submitted as a 'good' reader insert, so I'll take a look and see what I think!
First impression? Hey, for once I see decent formatting and spacing. This is promising! As for the title, I'm sensing a drunk!England fic coming on. This has been done a LOT, so I'm hoping that the author here has taken a new approach. (But wow, MALE reader? This is something I haven't seen before!)
Story under the cut!
He'd been drinking; you could tell. His words were slurred, his movement slow. (Not bad on the description, but the semi-colon approach isn't quite working. I would suggest cutting out the "you could tell" altogether. I think I understand the tone you're going for? Like a kind of dry, resigned tone, something dark? To achieve it, you want to be fairly concise and choose powerful words that say a lot in a few syllables. Also, try changing the "words were slurred, movement slow" into active voice. Throw some actions in. Maybe some setting.) The empty whiskey bottle was a giveaway too; the last few drops of golden liquid still lingering at the bottom [of the whiskey bottle], like the first raindrops before a storm. [interesting simile. I wonder if you could enhance that simile with a more powerful word than "lingering" earlier on in the sentence.] He looked up at you, those green eyes clouded over slightly, his bottom lip curling into a frown. [new paragraph?]You sighed; this was becoming almost predictable, that immediately after a case he'd drown himself in alcohol. [Run-on/awkward?] You didn't know why he did it and, to be honest, --part of you didn't really want to. But that didn't make it any easier to watch your partner, your brother, your friend, do this to himself. You slid a hand around the neck of the glass bottle, pulling it away from him, [New sentence. Make the action more direct. We can infer that he did not appreciate this by the way he reacts. No need to state it] a move he did not seem to appreciate, letting out a deep groan.
"No Arthur", you said, voice managing to keep steady. "No more."
You had no idea how you'd managed to keep your voice so steady, so unmoved. While you had received a reputation as a disciplined officer during your time in the military, you'd never found yourself so under control. Though that probably wasn't the right phrase; you weren't keeping your emotions under control, you were simply trying to ignore them. [I can't put my finger on it, but this is a bit wordy and could probably be tightened up and keep the same meaning. I do like that he kind of reconsiders keeping himself under control verses ignoring his emotions.]You bit into your tongue, trying to focus on the metallic tang rather than the freezing air. [I like this last sentence]
"Why?" he rasped, raising both eyebrows. "Why should I?"
You stuttered, trying to think of a logical reason.[Can be inferred from stuttering.] [New paragraph with a new speaker/actor]Arthur must have noticed your hesitation, because he let out a sigh, pulling himself to his feet, steadying himself on the walls. You bit harder, trying to stop yourself from blurting out the first thing that came into your head. You took in a deep breath, before answering.
[This comment is after my first read-through and is just here to bring up a thought: I would think that this whole missing brother thing would have been stewing around in protagonist's mind for a while. I think he already HAS the reason. Maybe at first he's just reluctant to bring it up.]
"Because Arthur", your voice shook a little, forcing you to take in another breath, "Because y-you don't need to a-and…"
"And what?"
You swallowed. "It's destroying you."
Silence fell on the room, broken only by the regular tick of the grandfather clock, mirroring your own heartbeat. [Oh, good, some setting! I was hoping you wouldn't leave me in a vacuum] You turned towards the windows, pulling the thick velvet curtains across, extinguishing the faint light, covering up the pillars of smoke that stretched as far as the eye could see, extensions of the blackened factory chimneys. [Good description] For some reason, Arthur had suggested you set up in the heart of the industrial district, a fact which you suspected of having lost you many upper class customers over the years. [Reword. "of having lost" is just awkward] This was the part of the city with a bad reputation, the part that people whispered rumours about when they were certain they were not being overheard. The perfect place for a detective to live.
"I do have a bloody reason, anyway."
That didn't make sense at all; everything was going right for the two of you. You were making money, not only enough to pay the rent, but enough to live comfortably on too. Even Arthur, who'd always been a grumpy old sod, had seemed to lighten up a little. The previous case hadn't been that taxing, financially or effort-wise. You'd still remember the look on that man's face though [Try "never forget"?]; [semi-colon not necessary, try a --]the look of utter shock as he was lead [lead is either a present tense verb or a metal. Led.] away after his arrest. It got you every time; [comma would work] the way criminals always seemed to think that they alone were immune to the law. There was absolutely nothing that he should be unhappy about.
Then it hit you. His brother. His brother. [??? Maybe try "His brother." for emphasis?]
He never talked about his brother, that younger brother that he'd never got over loosing [Losing]. You had no idea if the brother was dead, or had just left. It didn't really matter though; he was gone, leaving Arthur behind, mourning his loss, mourning for that little brother who could never be replaced, no matter what you did, no matter how hard you tried. You swallowed, trying to stop the bile in your throat from rising any further.
Oh dear, how to begin here. This paragraph is all over the place. See how many words you can cut out to make this much more concise. "He rarely spoke of the brother he'd lost" (b/c can infer that he's not over it, considering the drinking problem). "You did not know if he was dead or just gone--but Arthur was left to mourn the loss of a little brother who you would never replace no matter how hard you tried." Something along those lines? There is a lot of extraneous material here that could be tightened to better express the emotion.]
You'd tried so hard to be a good brother to him, so hard. Because, really, without him, you had nobody. You'd been an orphan, pressganged into military service when you had barely left childhood. You'd grown up there, in the military, centring your entire life,--your entire identity--around it. And that was why it had felt like the end of the world when you were discharged, your right arm now forged from tin. The city was utterly foreign; a place of new sights, new smells, new sounds, where you knew nobody and nobody knew you [Stronger descriptor than "new" perhaps to sink it the strangeness?]. And, out of the blue, Arthur Kirkland had welcomed you into his home and into his family. [I really do love that you're giving backstory for the protagonist. It's definitely an intriguing one, as well, and gives good motives to WHY he's worried.]
It had taken a while for him to warm up to you, you would admit. But eventually, even that grumpy old detective had learned to accept you, letting you work with him side by side. You first heard about his brother then, but you didn't think much of the story. After all, it wasn't like Arthur was your brother, was he? But, if he wasn't, why did you feel so jealous whenever he mentioned him in passing, that traitor to the family name? You couldn't subdue your emotion any longer, finally letting the corners of your mouth curl up into a snarl, your back still to Arthur.
"And why would that be?" you asked, knowing the answer completely. "Because you still haven't got over your little brother walking out on you."
You knew you were pushing your luck, knew that. [Got rid of the comma, put in a period.] Had both of you been sober, you wouldn't have said anything of the sort. But you were too drunk on emotion to care.
"Nothing of the sort!" he snapped back, voice rising with every word.
"Good", you snarled, "Because that means it'll still hurt this time." [Whoa, harsh, where did this come from??]
"What?"
You picked up your top hat from the wooden table, placing the empty bottle down in its place. Striding towards the door, you placed it on your head roughly, not caring that it slid to one side. The old floorboards let out a pathetic squeal as you walked towards the door, almost like they were begging you to stay. [Wonderful description!! I would love to see more vivid description like this one! It thrusts the reader into the story]You turned around one last time, taking in every corner of the dark room. Your gaze focused on the scruffy mop of blond hair, your eyes narrowing.
"Because Arthur", you began, pleading with your voice not to shake, "I am no longer your little brother."
[Whoa man. All that build-up definitely did lead up to an effective moment here, despite a lot of awkward sentence structure. But ouch, harsh.]
Okay
Overall:
The writing was alright, but there were a lot of extraneous words and awkward structures clogging up the prose. I get the feeling that this sort of story needs to be extremely concise with powerful, dark words and vivid images to be the most effective. Try for active voice when you can. And here's the thing: I KNOW YOU HAVE IT IN YOU. There were some gorgeous descriptors that fit the dark mood of this piece so well, as I've pointed out! Try for more of THAT. Make the reader forget that they're reading a story. Make them think they're actually in the midst of the action.
Another problem area--a huge chunk (the brother backstory) of the prose feels like an explanation, which isn't all that technically interesting to read. If you can possibly incorporate more of the backstory into part of the argument (a confrontation!), that would force BOTH characters to respond to the backstory as WELL as throw in a LOT of good tension, which would make the breaking point (ie, protagonist storming out) a LOT more believable. As is, I'm kind of lost to the exact WHYS of the storming out, other than that the protagonist is obviously tired of trying to replace this brother figure. But, as I also understand, he owes Arthur a debt and has no other friends.
I think this story has potential if it's cleaned up a lot. I like that it's WAY far from the typical reader insert (when I saw the title, I kind of groaned, because I'm used to these stories taking a sharp turn down into drunk!sex-ville for no apparant reason.). I like that you gave BOTH characters backstories and made their issues believable.
--A (surprise, I'm back for a few reviews now that I have more time! I've reverted to an occasional guest reviewer, as I don't have time for full-time blogging anymore. I'll be around for events, though! J and R have some interesting plans involving Omegle and that bad fanfiction bingo that I absolutely could not miss out on!)
My experience with Quizilla is that it's extremely hit or miss. If you find a good fic, it's usually great. (It's probably written by someone who's been there for years and learned how to write well.) If you find a bad fic, it'll be terrible.
I'm just wondering how in the world that's a good format for reading/writing fics? Meh, I won't lose sleep over it though. I understand the quality is definitely determined by the individual writing and not the site itself.
I love your blog! I love it even more since my internet name is Selfie~ ALL THE HETALIA GUISE ARE MY HUSBANDS!!111!!1! Also, would you please considering to affiliate? We're a new blog but we're going to pick up speed soon! ^w^ Thank you!
Could you maybe explain a bit more about the blog you wish to affiliate with us?
Ahaaa I was hoping that post would die. :'D Sorry the whole thing was meant to be satirical but apparently it wasn't put out like that. I'm really really really sorry.
The Alfred F. Jones is not an idiot post? Nah, we reblogged it because we were tired of seeing him portrayed as only that! S'all good!
I think, more to the point, he’s great in certain areas of intelligence and not in others. He’s a great scientist for invention, for example, and geology and astrospace and physics. But he’s bad at weather and psychology.
He’s seen as an idiot because he’s so far forward-thinking and idealistic that he lets himself ignore and forget the past. He’s seen as an idiot because he ignores and challenges standards of language, and doesn’t stick to the rules. He doesn’t stick to the rules of writing, or military engagement, and he ignores bad stuff about himself instead of facing it head-on.
He’s seen as an idiot because we tend to observe things in a stereotypical dichotomy of brain vs. muscle, and he’s a very athletic dude.
He’s seen as an idiot because he has a very weird, personal, cloudcuckoolander sense of logic. He doesn’t make sensible decisions, which sometimes works out and sometimes doesn’t.
He’s also seen as an idiot for many more reasonable reasons.
He doesn’t know about the other nations, because he’s very isolated (and, for a good part of his history, naturally isolationist) and he doesn’t get cultural boundaries at all. He doesn’t know other continents’ geography and he has a tough time envisioning and remembering it. He doesn’t pick up on other nation’s social conventions or linguistic intricacies, just using a mishmosh of what’s familiar to him.
He doesn’t know metric, doesn’t try, doesn’t remember currency transfer information, easily forgets some things, and is very childish in that he expects others to use stuff he recognises (imperial measurement system, american english language, US currency).
He learns quickly and pays close attention, but only to the things that interest him or he sees an application for. (So his personality is very familiar and ADHD to me.)
So he can be an idiot. He can be a genius. More than anything else, I’d say he’s a well-rounded character shaped by his personality and experiences instead of a single trait. God forbid in this fandom, right?
Submissions are currently closed. Asks, however, are still open--but only for comments and questions. This is a temporary thing while fno gets back on its feet. For the time being, the admins will draw from the submissions already in the inbox and from the popular pages on dA.
We will let you know when submissions are once again open!
Also, how would you all feel about an omegle night? Whether you want to act silly, complain about reader inserts, tell us off for our critiques, applaud us, or call us jerks, this night will be open for anyone who feels like chitchatting with us. While finding us will be the luck of the draw (depending on how many people participate), we will list specific tags to ensure that we're all among the same pool of people--and of course we'd post every chat in one big readmore by the end of the night. You know, just in case you're unsure if you've reached the actual admins or an impersonator! Haha! (I know, I'm a paranoid little bastard, aren't I! But nah, s'no biggie.)
More news on when that'll be. Perhaps you all can offer input for what night works best for you, and hopefully we won't be sitting bored on our computers for 3 hours with no one to talk to.
I believe this is my second or third review as a member of this team? Due to submissions being closed, I looked around the internet for something interesting to review while my teammate deals with the inbox.
“Video Games”. Please don’t make me a speshul snowflake gamr gurl. I beg of you, writer. My fate is in your hands.
Story is below the cut.
--
He'd found it!
His baby blue eyes were sparkling as he looked over the video game gleefully. [Awkward adverb. Surely it’s possible to convey the emotion through action rather than a weak –ly word.] He'd finally found it! It'd taken him weeks of searching this his large as his appatite house [What.], but somehow Alfred F. Jones found Super Mario Bros buried in his top secret hamburger stash. [Hamburger stash? As in he literally has a pile of hamburgers hidden somewhere? Really. Because meat doesn’t spoil or anything, and that’s totally what Americans do. I believe it.]
Well, he knew exactly what to do now: go over to the house of his video game bro, ____, pop that fucker in, and play until he could no longer use empty Mountain Dew bottles to release his piss(something Alfred had to do more than once on his gamer days) [I regret learning that piece of information just now. But Super Mario Bros doesn’t have a pause function? It’s not exactly a ‘live’ game that warrants playing hours on end without taking a piss.]
Lazy fatass though he might be, when he had motivation(or a coupon for a free Big Mac) [These stereotypes are layered on a bit thick, don’t you think? I know this is Hetalia and it’s based on stereotypes, but when trying to write a round character this sort of thing hinders rather than helps.]Alfred could run pretty damn fast, so it was no surprise that he was at your house in no time. Being Alfred, he didn't bother knocking and invited himself inside. [My door wasn’t locked?] "Hey bro, I finally found it! Let's go play!" He recieved no response, seeing as no one was on the first floor. [This is odd. I guess with 2nd person POV or whatever, I’d expect the focus to be on ‘me’ and what ‘I’ can physically perceive. So how would ‘I’ know what Alfred is up to until ‘I’ actually enter the story?]
He assumed you were in your room and ran upstairs. What he didn't assume was that you just might be doing something up there that you wouldn't want him to see. [Oh god. Please don’t be masturbating.] But again, he was Alfred and, seeing as his world revolved around greasy food and video games [You’ve mentioned that like ten times. Is that the only thing you, the writer, knows about this character?], that thought would have never occured to him.
Grinning, he burst into your room. "Hey bro, gu-!" He abruptly [Abruptly isn’t needed. I got that impression by the cut off in the dialogue. In fact this whole tag is weak. Try description of an actual response? Like words catching in his throat, mouth hanging open, eyes wide type thing.] stopped shouting when he saw you.
You were only wearing your bra and panties. [*wolf whistle*]
You both stood there abrutly for a few seconds, before you came to your senses. "Alfred, GET OUT!" Your fist collided with his nose and he flew out of the room [Really now. My punch is that powerful.]. You shot him a death glare before slamming the door in his face. [If I punched him that hard, he would not be standing at the door. And how is it that miss author is getting away with using no actual description?!]
Alfred just sat there in shock. His best friend was.......a girl! [WHAT?! NO REALLY?] He'd always known that, of course, but when you two were kids, that hadn't really mattered, seeing as you'd been flat as a billboard. Now you had a smokin' hot body, and a bra to prove you were not longer flat chested. […And this occurred overnight? Did my shirt somehow give me the appearance of a flat chest so that Alfred could be blissfully unaware? Is Alfred blind? And yeah, smokin’ hot. Sure. The one description you bother to use is that.
Also, how old am ‘I’ in this?]
Alfred was still thinking about this when you came out of your room, wearing a t-shirt and jeans [Oh good. I appear flatchested again for his convenience. The power of t-shirts.], your face bright red. "Alfred, you're an ass." You said matter-of-factly [And the most annoying dialogue tag award goes to...]
"Hey bro, I wasn't peeking!" He held up the video game case, as thought it might save him from whatever wrath you were planning to bring down upon him. "I found Super Mario Bros, and I really wanted to play with you......."
Your expression softened. "Well, I guess it's alright. I don't really mind if you look anyway." [Um.] You held out your hand and Alfred took it, silently wondering what you meant by that.
You tightened your grip on the American's hand and led him downstairs. "Now c'mon, let's go play that game!"
Alfred couldn't help but wonder what these freaky ass emotions he was feeling were. Well, whatever they were, he didn't mind them too much. [For all I know his freaky ass emotions could be hunger, because miss author didn’t bother to actually delve into his reaction.]
If they had to do with his ____, they were more than welcome to stay. [Brain, why did you put “penis” in the blank instead of the protagonist’s name? Bad.]
--
Um, okay.
At least there was no special snowflake gamer girl shit, but is Alfred really that dense? You’ve made him into a meathead that only eats hamburgers. I do like the idea of a guy discovering that his best friend has blossomed, but this was too contrived and a bit illogical.
Also where was the description? I knew the storyline, but there was nothing there to help me relate to the characters or really imagine what was going on. Any descriptors that were there (“face red”) were weak and added nothing to the story.
I love your blog! The comments are actually really great and helpful constructive criticism. Instead of mindlessly bashing these fics you are helping these authors write better. :) Please keep up the good work!
Thank you very much! We try our best! (: More to come soon.
