The authoress is fed up with her characters and her writing, so she decides to leave the fandom. But it's not going down without a fight!


America was busy sulking in the corner.

Russia poked his head. "What is making you sad, comrade?"

He scowled. "Being this crazy thirteen year old's character! You don't know torture until you've been turned into a girl, forced to cut yourself, and put in two relationships at the same time in some crazy shit story with no plot."

Germany shuddered. "I feel your pain, America. That one story…" He seemed at a loss for words.

Russia's evil aura increased. "Yes, and I'm so glad she deleted that one where she made me cry like a hormonal teenager and sing Ke$ha songs. She deleted all of those song fics, is that what she calls them? Horrible."

They nodded in agreement. "I didn't want to sing that goddam unawesome song at all, but what choice did I have?" Prussia called out. Germany glowered at him. "At least you weren't turned into a girl!"

The door to the meeting room opened, and someone threw a paper airplane in, knocking England on the head. "Ow, what the hell was that for?" North Italy. read the side of the plane. "'The Colored Emo Seahorse…"

"What the fuck is wrong with this girl?"

America nodded knowingly. "Yeah, she made a plane in science class and she and her partner hate glue, so they kept insulting it, and they thought 'it'll go cry in its emo corner.' And the plane was blank white, so they colored it blue and black, and her partner said the fuselage kind of looked like a seahorse, so they called it The Colored Emo Seahorse."

They stared. "And you know this how?"

He shrugged. "If we're all in her head, we're bound to pick up some information. Come on, read it."

England unfolded it. "Here: 'I know you all hate me for writing these crappy stories about you, so I've decided to stop.'"

A loud burst of cheering broke across the room. "Finally, a hiatus!"

England's face paled. "No, you don't get it, guys. She's not going to write anymore for this fandom."

He let the words sink in for effect. "We're getting a few days more in her head before we're being forcibly removed."

Finland looked sad. "And her alter ego was about to post that one…"

Everyone stared at him. Sweden was pointedly looking at the ceiling, arms crossed, and Finland cleared his throat. "N-never mind."

Romano slammed his fist down on the table. "…dammit, we have to do something!"

"Do what? She controls us, doesn't she? We're just stuck in her head, and the only time we can do anything is when we can't!"

They all stared at America. Russia gave him a saccharine smile. "You know, that might have been a very intelligent explanation, if only we could understand it."

He glared at him. "We can't do anything as long as we're in her head, because we're her characters! Once she stops writing, we can do as we please, but if we leave we can't force her to do anything. There has to be another way…"

Norway stood. "Well…she's not giving up writing, is she? What if we went in her other writing? Could we do anything?"

Denmark grinned. "Yes! That's perfect! If we're still here, we can mess with her other characters and tell them to tell her to write properly for us!" He hugged him. "You just saved us from being metaphorically annihilated in her mind!"

"Okay, okay, just get off of me!"

America walked up to the head of the table. "Ah, this reminds me of when we were setting up out battle plan, right, guys?" The former Allies shuddered. "Please don't remind me, aru."


I realize how self-centered this fic is, but bear with me. I might actually leave this fandom for a while, and I'm consulting my characters on what to do. This is actually taking place in my head.