( axis powers hetalia ) fragment: how to write a denmark fanfic.
Notes: JUST AS THE TITLE IMPLIES. A fragment of a 'fic, very meta, talking about how to write a Denmark-centric fanfic, addressing cliches and common errors in so doing. HOW PRETENTIOUS CAN YOU GET.
EDITED 5/8: New section yeahhhhhhhhhh
5/9: EVEN MORE yeahhhhh wow
It is a sunny day in Copenhagen. A light breeze is coming in from the sea, making everything smell fresh. A few fluffy clouds slowly drifted across the sky. In the distance, the mountains-
Wait.
( STEP ONE: denmark is not america. )
It's a funny fact, Denmark thinks, walking along the street, that despite being a part of Scandinavia, Europe's #2 skiing destination, he himself had no mountains. Or hills. Or gentle rises. Or- okay, he was totally flat.
Denmark is also not American. Neither is Norway, for that matter. Sure, he enjoys America's TV and movies and music when they were imported, same with England's. But on a whole, nope, not American. Different brands of food, different clothes, different cars, different building styles.
Yup, thinks Denmark, it is really amazing how not-American and not-mountainous he is.
It's not that details must be perfect. But if you're going to throw in a line about someone watching TV, either leave it vague or spend a minute on google. Little things like mountains can throw you out of a story in a second and a half if gotten wrong, so why risk it?
As Denmark walks along, he runs into Germany. That is, Ludwig. As this is not a WW2 story, or a WW1 story, or a story at all involving either Schleswig or Holstein, Germany-sorry, Ludwig-is not suddenly a rapist, abusive asshole, despite the fact that the canon is nominally set during WW2 and you'd think that would have come up.
In fact, Ludwig, being a polite next-door-neighbor, nods his head and says, "Hullo, Matthias."
"Matthew?" says Denmark.
"Matthias."
"Is he here?" Denmark says, looking around.
"Who?" Ludwig says, frowning slightly.
"Matthew?"
"Matthias?"
"Canada."
"Who?"
"-Right, him?"
They look confused for a moment. "Well, then," Ludwig says slowly, not wanting to muddle the situation more; "since you don't have an official name, what are you going by?"
Now Denmark gets it. He nods and makes hand gestures. "Most people call me and Nor Americanised names with different spellings to make them more 'exotic,' like Alexander or Matthias or Eric, or, or-or something like that!"
"All names are acceptable," Ludwig points out. "It's not like it does you harm. Look at some of the official names-Hungary's name exists in Hungarian as Erszébet, but it's usually spelled Elizabeta in works."
"-Because that name's way too hard to spell," Denmark grumbles. "But since me and Nor and Ice don't have real official names, people can have more fun with it! Use real Danish or Norwegian or Icelandic names that people commonly have, not Americanized stuff-naming me after a boss like Christian or Frederick would be cool! But so are names like Olaf, Johann, and Kaspar… Lars, Jens, Ole… Tor, Knut, Kjell… Arnar, Gunnar, Sigurður… and there are a lot of great historical figures to take names from too! It's not like names like Matthias don't exist in Danish, but there's already Canada with the same name and I'm Denmark! I want a real name!"
Ludwig has kind of stopped listening, actually, gazing up at the sky and waiting for Denmark-err, Johann or whatever-to finish talking. "Are you done soapboxing?" he asks.
"Nope," Denmark sighs, "but I think that's it for names."
( STEP TWO: history: just fucking google it. )
Germany looks relieved. But of course the soapboxing isn't done yet, and he decides to try and make more polite conversation. "So, what exactly is this?" he says, indicating the area around them. It is no longer a sunny Copenhagen; the area is now blank and white but for black letters. They both take a moment to appreciate it.
"I think it's like those cartoons where the artist draws the scene in the middle of it," Denmark says finally, frowning thoughtfully as he does.
"Ah," says Germany. "And why…?"
A pouffy red armchair appears, and Denmark flops into it, legs stuck out in front of him. "We're talking about clichés in fanfic about me!"
A wooden chair appears for Germany, and he sits as well. "What is the agenda?"
"Uhh, I think we're just making it up as we go," Denmark says cheerfully.
There is a pause. "If you don't mind, I have one," Germany says, sounding awkward.
They are suddenly back in Copenhagen. It is wartime. Windows are blackened and soldiers are on street corners. Both countries-yes, both-look instantly dismayed and disgusted. But it's clear Germany is getting what he wants. He looks around. He doesn't have to say it to Denmark, because Denmark knows it, but who does that leave to address? He settles on a spot at random and speaks to a windowsill.
"The second World War was an … interesting time," he says, feeling like the opposite is true but trying to be neutral. "It is therefore understandable that you may feel inclined to set stories in that era. While I will not make excuses for my actions, which were reprehensible-and only due to my boss's orders-" he adds this very fast. He is prepared to go on like this for a few minutes, but Denmark cuts in. His armchair has been transported to 1940s Copenhagen along with them.
"If you want to set a story during the war, go ahead, but go look it up on wikipedia or something before ya do. I mean, hell, it's a complicated fucking thing! There are books just about it. You won't learn it all on the internet. And since you're probably writing a story and not a thesis that's okay!" While sounding cheerful, Denmark is slumping dangerously low in the chair. He doesn't want to think about it either-but he's only a character so his thoughts don't matter here. "When it comes to writing historical fanfic, you just gotta know the outline to pull it off. Some people might say 'research everything,' but honestly, you can get by on less. But ya sure as hell need to have the right outline. Take this war. I wasn't beaten up and then taken over, I surrendered in a few hours and cooperated with Germany."
Germany coughs. Denmark gives him the finger. "Not 'cause I fucking wanted to, but 'cause it was the best way to keep my people safe. And, Germany liked me and wanted me to get along with him. He wasn't beating me up. The Germans were a hell of a lot nicer to Danes than to the other people they took over because Hitler had a weird-ass crush on me back then, totally had a hard-on for Nordic shit. It wasn't until 1943 that I started resisting loudly and Germany started punching back loud-uh, hard-so yeah." He looks and sounds disgusted. The entire ordeal was not fun and definitely not pleasant, and he'd love nothing more than to hate on Germany for the rest of this fanfic, but there's a point to be made: it's easy to say Germany invaded Denmark, but without some context, you're apt to get it all wrong despite that.
And it's not just WW2. How often do people remember Sweden's burning down Oslo or taking Skåne or any of the other attacks, invasions, and arguable cruelties, compared to all the times the Stockholm Bloodbath is used as an excuse to make Denmark the villain? How often is Denmark-Norway treated as a rape or abusive relationship without looking at the overall context of what was (after the 16th century) a relatively stable union? It isn't as though Denmark or any country wasn't a dick, just that there are no innocents in history. It isn't as though these things can't be written about as abusive or dark, only that the assumption that Sweden has Never Done Anything Bad Ever is as wrong as saying Denmark hasn't.
As the previous paragraph is read, Germany poofs out of existence and the scene shifts several more times. A castle, 16th century Oslo, a field, a ship, a snowy mountain. Denmark's chair vanishes too, and he looks bewildered. As you read this sentence, the world settles into a manor designed and furnished in 18th century fashion, with Denmark suddenly dressed to match.
( STEP THREE: this story is written in english. )
Also, Norway has appeared. He appears uninterested in the spectacle. "What's this then?"
"Nor!" Denmark goes to give him a best friend hug. "I'm giving a demonstration on badfic!"
Norway considers. "You mean you're being used for one."
"That's what I said!" Denmark says, not getting it. "Where are we?"
"Your house, 1720," Norway says. "Not that the date matters much."
"Why not?"
Because we're talking about Denmark/Norway now.
Denmark pays this no mind. "Nor! Det er dejligt at se dig igen, det har været en lang tid!" He continues to hug Norway.
Norway looks unimpressed. "Why are you speaking Danish?"
"Fordi jeg er dansk." Denmark flashes Norway a grin.
"If this story is now Danish, shouldn't the prose also be?" Norges stemme stadig emotionless, da han er vant til at påpege ting som dette, og ikke pleje meget mere.
"Ja," siger Danmark. "Men hvad jeg ikke forstår det-hvis vi taler dansk nu, hvad fanden var vi talte før?"
"Your grammar is all wrong," Norway says. "It should be 'Hvis vi taler dansk nu, hvad fanden var det så vi talte før?'"
"Du ved, kan de fleste mennesker ikke engang forstår dette, så lad os bare gå tilbage til hvad fanden vi talte før," Denmark says, and does. "By the way, why are you speaking Danish? You're Norwegian." He considers. "Do you want to reunify?"
Norway hits him. "Honestly, moron. The people here who can speak Danish aren't impressed by google translate, and know the errors. The people here who can't are just looking it up."
Denmark scratches his face as he thinks. "But then they won't know it's wrong."
Norway frowns. That's kind of the point. "Just go on and explain."
Denmark addresses the audience now. "Almost all of the Danish up there is wrong! Not just because people don't talk like dictionaries! For example, the part where I said 'I am Danish,' would more properly be 'fordi jeg er danker,' because I'm a Dane- and the translator didn't even know the word for emotionless 'cause there ain't one. The proper sentences- huh," he looks confused, trying to explain. This isn't his strong point.
Norway sighs. "Let's just replay the scene with the right grammar."
Denmark nods and hugs Norway again. "Nor! Det er dejligt at se dig igen, der er lang tid siden!" He continues to hug Norway.
Norway looks unimpressed. "Why are you speaking Danish?"
"Fordi jeg er dansker." Denmark flashes Norway a grin.
"If this story is now Danish, shouldn't the prose also be?" Norges stemme forbliver følelseskold da han er vandt, til at udpege disse ting, og er ligeglad nu.
"Ja," siger Danmark. "Men hvad jeg ikke forstår er - hvis vi taler dansk nu, hvad fanden var vi talte før?"
"Your grammar is all wrong," Norway says. "It should be 'Hvis vi taler dansk nu, hvad fanden var det så vi talte før?'"
"Du ved nok, at de fleste overhovedet ikke kan forstå det her. Så lad os nu bare gå tilbage til, at tale hvad fanden det var vi talte før," Denmark says, and does. "By the way, why are you speaking Danish? You're Norwegian." He considers. "Do you want to reunify?"
Norway hits him. "We don't have to replay this part."
Denmark laughs. "But, don't the differences look tiny?"
"It's the same as English. A tiny difference completely changes the sentence." Norway sighs, tired of this whole example. Really, is this showing off or what? "At least we aren't demonstrating accents."
"'Hvis vi taler dansk nu, hvæ fanden var'et vi-'" Denmark starts to say, but Norway cuts him off with a glare.
"No."
Denmark laughs. "Well, okay! So let's talk about words more! Like how when I said 'I am Danish' wrong, I said it more like 'I am a Danish.' But not the pastry, 'cause in Danish that's another different word-it's complicated, okay?" He frowns, and then something dawns on him. "Yeah! It is complicated! Language is really hard. I bet ya read the parts just now and couldn't tell what the differences and problems were, unless ya are Nordic anyway, and in that case ya don't get impressed! Besides, people make dumb mistakes…"
Norway has stopped paying attention and is looking out the window, off in his own head. Denmark notices and trails off, watching this curiously. Really, lecturing isn't all that interesting to him either.
The fact is that when writing a story in any language, you are inviting suspension of disbelief from your readers: to believe the premise and actions of the story, and the framework around it. If you write a story where Sweden is hit by a car, the reader will go along with it, not protest that the odds are too low. If you write an AU story, the reader is expected to believe that even in an alternate universe, the characters will know one another. And so on. This also applies to languages. No one really believes that Denmark is going about his day speaking English; the reader will automatically assume (without needing to be told) that Denmark is speaking Danish, and that all dialogue in English is actually "translated." Putting a random sentence in Danish in the middle of the story then breaks this suspension of belief-what the hell, as Denmark asked in the above Fun With Translators, were they speaking before that? Why would Denmark and Norway speak English to one another? Why would the translation 'break' when it's this sentence instead of that one. As a rule, if you feel the need to make a footnote explaining exactly what was said, you should just write in in English. If the tone alone can make it obvious-
-At this point in the lecture, a rock falls out of nowhere and hits Denmark on the head. "----!", he yells, immediately throwing his hands up. It should be pretty obvious what he just said, even if you don't know exactly what.
Norway kneels and picks up the stone, turning it over in one hand. "Have we finished talking about this?"
"Je suis désolé," France says suddenly in his only appearance in this story, contrite; "It-the stone-slipped out of my grasp!"
And with that, let us move on.
EDITED 5/8: New section yeahhhhhhhhhh
5/9: EVEN MORE yeahhhhh wow
It is a sunny day in Copenhagen. A light breeze is coming in from the sea, making everything smell fresh. A few fluffy clouds slowly drifted across the sky. In the distance, the mountains-
Wait.
( STEP ONE: denmark is not america. )
It's a funny fact, Denmark thinks, walking along the street, that despite being a part of Scandinavia, Europe's #2 skiing destination, he himself had no mountains. Or hills. Or gentle rises. Or- okay, he was totally flat.
Denmark is also not American. Neither is Norway, for that matter. Sure, he enjoys America's TV and movies and music when they were imported, same with England's. But on a whole, nope, not American. Different brands of food, different clothes, different cars, different building styles.
Yup, thinks Denmark, it is really amazing how not-American and not-mountainous he is.
It's not that details must be perfect. But if you're going to throw in a line about someone watching TV, either leave it vague or spend a minute on google. Little things like mountains can throw you out of a story in a second and a half if gotten wrong, so why risk it?
As Denmark walks along, he runs into Germany. That is, Ludwig. As this is not a WW2 story, or a WW1 story, or a story at all involving either Schleswig or Holstein, Germany-sorry, Ludwig-is not suddenly a rapist, abusive asshole, despite the fact that the canon is nominally set during WW2 and you'd think that would have come up.
In fact, Ludwig, being a polite next-door-neighbor, nods his head and says, "Hullo, Matthias."
"Matthew?" says Denmark.
"Matthias."
"Is he here?" Denmark says, looking around.
"Who?" Ludwig says, frowning slightly.
"Matthew?"
"Matthias?"
"Canada."
"Who?"
"-Right, him?"
They look confused for a moment. "Well, then," Ludwig says slowly, not wanting to muddle the situation more; "since you don't have an official name, what are you going by?"
Now Denmark gets it. He nods and makes hand gestures. "Most people call me and Nor Americanised names with different spellings to make them more 'exotic,' like Alexander or Matthias or Eric, or, or-or something like that!"
"All names are acceptable," Ludwig points out. "It's not like it does you harm. Look at some of the official names-Hungary's name exists in Hungarian as Erszébet, but it's usually spelled Elizabeta in works."
"-Because that name's way too hard to spell," Denmark grumbles. "But since me and Nor and Ice don't have real official names, people can have more fun with it! Use real Danish or Norwegian or Icelandic names that people commonly have, not Americanized stuff-naming me after a boss like Christian or Frederick would be cool! But so are names like Olaf, Johann, and Kaspar… Lars, Jens, Ole… Tor, Knut, Kjell… Arnar, Gunnar, Sigurður… and there are a lot of great historical figures to take names from too! It's not like names like Matthias don't exist in Danish, but there's already Canada with the same name and I'm Denmark! I want a real name!"
Ludwig has kind of stopped listening, actually, gazing up at the sky and waiting for Denmark-err, Johann or whatever-to finish talking. "Are you done soapboxing?" he asks.
"Nope," Denmark sighs, "but I think that's it for names."
( STEP TWO: history: just fucking google it. )
Germany looks relieved. But of course the soapboxing isn't done yet, and he decides to try and make more polite conversation. "So, what exactly is this?" he says, indicating the area around them. It is no longer a sunny Copenhagen; the area is now blank and white but for black letters. They both take a moment to appreciate it.
"I think it's like those cartoons where the artist draws the scene in the middle of it," Denmark says finally, frowning thoughtfully as he does.
"Ah," says Germany. "And why…?"
A pouffy red armchair appears, and Denmark flops into it, legs stuck out in front of him. "We're talking about clichés in fanfic about me!"
A wooden chair appears for Germany, and he sits as well. "What is the agenda?"
"Uhh, I think we're just making it up as we go," Denmark says cheerfully.
There is a pause. "If you don't mind, I have one," Germany says, sounding awkward.
They are suddenly back in Copenhagen. It is wartime. Windows are blackened and soldiers are on street corners. Both countries-yes, both-look instantly dismayed and disgusted. But it's clear Germany is getting what he wants. He looks around. He doesn't have to say it to Denmark, because Denmark knows it, but who does that leave to address? He settles on a spot at random and speaks to a windowsill.
"The second World War was an … interesting time," he says, feeling like the opposite is true but trying to be neutral. "It is therefore understandable that you may feel inclined to set stories in that era. While I will not make excuses for my actions, which were reprehensible-and only due to my boss's orders-" he adds this very fast. He is prepared to go on like this for a few minutes, but Denmark cuts in. His armchair has been transported to 1940s Copenhagen along with them.
"If you want to set a story during the war, go ahead, but go look it up on wikipedia or something before ya do. I mean, hell, it's a complicated fucking thing! There are books just about it. You won't learn it all on the internet. And since you're probably writing a story and not a thesis that's okay!" While sounding cheerful, Denmark is slumping dangerously low in the chair. He doesn't want to think about it either-but he's only a character so his thoughts don't matter here. "When it comes to writing historical fanfic, you just gotta know the outline to pull it off. Some people might say 'research everything,' but honestly, you can get by on less. But ya sure as hell need to have the right outline. Take this war. I wasn't beaten up and then taken over, I surrendered in a few hours and cooperated with Germany."
Germany coughs. Denmark gives him the finger. "Not 'cause I fucking wanted to, but 'cause it was the best way to keep my people safe. And, Germany liked me and wanted me to get along with him. He wasn't beating me up. The Germans were a hell of a lot nicer to Danes than to the other people they took over because Hitler had a weird-ass crush on me back then, totally had a hard-on for Nordic shit. It wasn't until 1943 that I started resisting loudly and Germany started punching back loud-uh, hard-so yeah." He looks and sounds disgusted. The entire ordeal was not fun and definitely not pleasant, and he'd love nothing more than to hate on Germany for the rest of this fanfic, but there's a point to be made: it's easy to say Germany invaded Denmark, but without some context, you're apt to get it all wrong despite that.
And it's not just WW2. How often do people remember Sweden's burning down Oslo or taking Skåne or any of the other attacks, invasions, and arguable cruelties, compared to all the times the Stockholm Bloodbath is used as an excuse to make Denmark the villain? How often is Denmark-Norway treated as a rape or abusive relationship without looking at the overall context of what was (after the 16th century) a relatively stable union? It isn't as though Denmark or any country wasn't a dick, just that there are no innocents in history. It isn't as though these things can't be written about as abusive or dark, only that the assumption that Sweden has Never Done Anything Bad Ever is as wrong as saying Denmark hasn't.
As the previous paragraph is read, Germany poofs out of existence and the scene shifts several more times. A castle, 16th century Oslo, a field, a ship, a snowy mountain. Denmark's chair vanishes too, and he looks bewildered. As you read this sentence, the world settles into a manor designed and furnished in 18th century fashion, with Denmark suddenly dressed to match.
( STEP THREE: this story is written in english. )
Also, Norway has appeared. He appears uninterested in the spectacle. "What's this then?"
"Nor!" Denmark goes to give him a best friend hug. "I'm giving a demonstration on badfic!"
Norway considers. "You mean you're being used for one."
"That's what I said!" Denmark says, not getting it. "Where are we?"
"Your house, 1720," Norway says. "Not that the date matters much."
"Why not?"
Because we're talking about Denmark/Norway now.
Denmark pays this no mind. "Nor! Det er dejligt at se dig igen, det har været en lang tid!" He continues to hug Norway.
Norway looks unimpressed. "Why are you speaking Danish?"
"Fordi jeg er dansk." Denmark flashes Norway a grin.
"If this story is now Danish, shouldn't the prose also be?" Norges stemme stadig emotionless, da han er vant til at påpege ting som dette, og ikke pleje meget mere.
"Ja," siger Danmark. "Men hvad jeg ikke forstår det-hvis vi taler dansk nu, hvad fanden var vi talte før?"
"Your grammar is all wrong," Norway says. "It should be 'Hvis vi taler dansk nu, hvad fanden var det så vi talte før?'"
"Du ved, kan de fleste mennesker ikke engang forstår dette, så lad os bare gå tilbage til hvad fanden vi talte før," Denmark says, and does. "By the way, why are you speaking Danish? You're Norwegian." He considers. "Do you want to reunify?"
Norway hits him. "Honestly, moron. The people here who can speak Danish aren't impressed by google translate, and know the errors. The people here who can't are just looking it up."
Denmark scratches his face as he thinks. "But then they won't know it's wrong."
Norway frowns. That's kind of the point. "Just go on and explain."
Denmark addresses the audience now. "Almost all of the Danish up there is wrong! Not just because people don't talk like dictionaries! For example, the part where I said 'I am Danish,' would more properly be 'fordi jeg er danker,' because I'm a Dane- and the translator didn't even know the word for emotionless 'cause there ain't one. The proper sentences- huh," he looks confused, trying to explain. This isn't his strong point.
Norway sighs. "Let's just replay the scene with the right grammar."
Denmark nods and hugs Norway again. "Nor! Det er dejligt at se dig igen, der er lang tid siden!" He continues to hug Norway.
Norway looks unimpressed. "Why are you speaking Danish?"
"Fordi jeg er dansker." Denmark flashes Norway a grin.
"If this story is now Danish, shouldn't the prose also be?" Norges stemme forbliver følelseskold da han er vandt, til at udpege disse ting, og er ligeglad nu.
"Ja," siger Danmark. "Men hvad jeg ikke forstår er - hvis vi taler dansk nu, hvad fanden var vi talte før?"
"Your grammar is all wrong," Norway says. "It should be 'Hvis vi taler dansk nu, hvad fanden var det så vi talte før?'"
"Du ved nok, at de fleste overhovedet ikke kan forstå det her. Så lad os nu bare gå tilbage til, at tale hvad fanden det var vi talte før," Denmark says, and does. "By the way, why are you speaking Danish? You're Norwegian." He considers. "Do you want to reunify?"
Norway hits him. "We don't have to replay this part."
Denmark laughs. "But, don't the differences look tiny?"
"It's the same as English. A tiny difference completely changes the sentence." Norway sighs, tired of this whole example. Really, is this showing off or what? "At least we aren't demonstrating accents."
"'Hvis vi taler dansk nu, hvæ fanden var'et vi-'" Denmark starts to say, but Norway cuts him off with a glare.
"No."
Denmark laughs. "Well, okay! So let's talk about words more! Like how when I said 'I am Danish' wrong, I said it more like 'I am a Danish.' But not the pastry, 'cause in Danish that's another different word-it's complicated, okay?" He frowns, and then something dawns on him. "Yeah! It is complicated! Language is really hard. I bet ya read the parts just now and couldn't tell what the differences and problems were, unless ya are Nordic anyway, and in that case ya don't get impressed! Besides, people make dumb mistakes…"
Norway has stopped paying attention and is looking out the window, off in his own head. Denmark notices and trails off, watching this curiously. Really, lecturing isn't all that interesting to him either.
The fact is that when writing a story in any language, you are inviting suspension of disbelief from your readers: to believe the premise and actions of the story, and the framework around it. If you write a story where Sweden is hit by a car, the reader will go along with it, not protest that the odds are too low. If you write an AU story, the reader is expected to believe that even in an alternate universe, the characters will know one another. And so on. This also applies to languages. No one really believes that Denmark is going about his day speaking English; the reader will automatically assume (without needing to be told) that Denmark is speaking Danish, and that all dialogue in English is actually "translated." Putting a random sentence in Danish in the middle of the story then breaks this suspension of belief-what the hell, as Denmark asked in the above Fun With Translators, were they speaking before that? Why would Denmark and Norway speak English to one another? Why would the translation 'break' when it's this sentence instead of that one. As a rule, if you feel the need to make a footnote explaining exactly what was said, you should just write in in English. If the tone alone can make it obvious-
-At this point in the lecture, a rock falls out of nowhere and hits Denmark on the head. "----!", he yells, immediately throwing his hands up. It should be pretty obvious what he just said, even if you don't know exactly what.
Norway kneels and picks up the stone, turning it over in one hand. "Have we finished talking about this?"
"Je suis désolé," France says suddenly in his only appearance in this story, contrite; "It-the stone-slipped out of my grasp!"
And with that, let us move on.