(AN: So, anon would like to point out that english is not her first language. Anon would also like to point out that she hasn't written any kind of fanfiction in two years. If OP chooses to like this, I'll write more. Otherwise, this'll just be a teaser!fail. Also, anon here is going on a week-long vacation in the hospital, so even if you want more, I'll be able to upload more only after I come back... sorry. Also, no romance yet.)
The sea is too blue
The first time they met, Alfred didn't know that the other was a... well, a fish. He didn't find it out the second time either. Believe it or not, he found out two years after their first meeting.
It was a somewhat special first meeting - magical, if you will. Alfred didn't believe in magic. When he later asked Mikkel if he believed in it, then the dane answered that he did not. Nevertheless, looking back on it, it seemed as close to magic as it could get.
And the first time Alfred saw him was while he was walking along the shore of a random beach in the area. The other man was swimming quite far away and the sea was otherwise void of human life. Alfred smiled and wondered if the other man was a professional swimmer. He leaned against one, out of the many, large rocks on the beach, wondering if the man would come to the shore soon. It would be cool to talk to a professional athlete.
The man did come eventually... after some initial uneasy looks. He swam close, though, and asked, "Hello? Were you looking for someone?" He had a small accent, but Alfred couldn't figure out what kind. Somewhere from Europe, probably.
The american smiled brightly and replied, slowly pushing off the rock he was leaning on, "Nah, I just couldn't help, but notice you swimming that far out - are you a professional athlete?"
The other man seemed to relax more and came closer - close enough that he could easily lay down on the sand under the water. He gave a small laugh, "No, I just like exercising. Though, I take part in many competitions from time to time." And he leaned down, stomach caressing the sand below the water, elbows holding his upper body up.
"Where are you from? I can't place your accent," Alfred said.
The water around the european was shallow, but it was dark enough, even with the sunset still there, that Alfred couldn't see the other man's lower body. He wondered briefly, if he should go closer to shake the man's hand.
"Denmark. Came here, 'cause my family needed to move to America for uh... a new home, and well, I couldn't just leave behind. My name's Mikkel, by the way," the dane gave a large smile.
Alfred smiled as well, "My name's Alfred," he said, walking to the other man, intending to shake his hand.
Mikkel quickly back-pedaled into deeper water using his hands and gave a small, nervous laugh, "I need to really get back to training now. Before the sun sets completely, you know?"
Alfred's smile fell somewhat (he took a quick look at his hands), but he nodded, "Yes, I guess I've take up a lot of your time already." They hadn't been talking for that long, not really.
The dane hesitated and then replied, "You can visit me tomorrow, though. I'll be here."
At that Alfred immediately brightened up, "So, you're gonna be here tomorrow then? Like, what time do you usually come here?"
"Oh come on!" Mikkel's voice turned mischievous, "You honestly think I don't train all day? Me? A professional athlete?" Seeing the american's bright, admiring eyes, Mikkel almost lost his composure. But no, his poker face is ungodly. There's just no way. And there's a completely different explanation why he just turned 180 degrees and began swimming away. Not because his poker face was crumbling. Nope.
"So, see you tomorrow?!" Alfred yelled after him, to which the dane just gave a small wave to say that, yes, I heard you, and yes, I agree.
Thank Lord! I was thinking my writing quirk was terrible and no one would like my story! (I'd also like to point out that this fill might start getting pretty heavy on the psychological side, because A!A has a really big fondness for psychology.)
i'm so sorry i havent replied sooner! but this is wonderful! if you hadn't told me i never would have guessed english wasn't your first language. i really like it and hope you continue, and i'm looking forward to this getting psychology heavy. (i love psychology)
(A/N: I'm experimenting with writing right now; with simple present. If this is hard on your eyes, you can tell me so.)
The Sea is Too Blue 2
Alfred isn't a man, who keeps his mouth shut. He needs to talk, to let it all out, no matter what he talks about. Arthur used to be quite mad at him for constantly talking about irrelevant things, but he couldn't help himself. Not that he wanted to be quiet near his dad - it was really funny how his face went nearly purple every time Alfred somehow managed to piss him off.
Until Arthur had a stroke one day.
Alfred doesn't talk around his dad that much anymore. Arthur wasn't badly hurt; he was relatively fine, except for the small tremor in his hands every once in a while. Alfred, however, doesn't want to push things anymore. He talks, oh yes he does, but less. And about things that actually matter.
Today he starts talking about Mikkel. Not much, just a little casual bump in the conversation; oh, I met an athlete today. He's a swimmer. Athletes are awesome. I should probably join something as well. Maybe you'd like to join something too – it'd be good for your health.
And Arthur scoffs a little, sipping some tea and reading a newspaper, “I dislike sweating,“ then, folding the paper like he had just finished the last article, he looks up at his son, “So where exactly did you meet an athlete? You don't usually visit gyms or the like; you work out at home.“ Arthur is a good parent, believe it or not – he is actually pretty interested in the things his son does. And the younger one is grateful for that, whether he shows it or not.
Alfred grins, “At a beach-“
“Ah.“
“-I was walking along the shore and I suddenly saw someone swimming far away in the water. He came up to me and we talked a bit, but he had to leave for training again soon after, so I left..“ He eats a few mouthfuls of his dinner – hamburgers. Arthur isn't too fond of him eating trash, but they had agreed to let Alfred eat whatever he wanted on at least one day of the week, as long as he still lived with Arthur. Today was the day (night?) it seems.
“But he made me want to take up swimming now. It seems quite fun and-“ At the last second Alfred thinks through everything he wants to say, and sighs, feeling like the weight of the World is suddenly on his shoulders, “...yeah.“ His sentences end like that lately. They end like that a lot.
Arthur nods, standing up to put his and Alfred's empty plates in the sink. When he raises the cuffs of his sleeves to start washing the dishes, Alfred takes it as a cue to go hit the hay. He stands up and puts the leftovers in the fridge and goes to his dad, hugging him loosely. He murmurs a g'night and Arthur asks him if he should wake him up in the morning. The younger one smiles and shakes his head, letting go of his father.
In his bedroom Alfred is careful not to knock over anything in his excited pacing. Instead of moving around his room he then jumps on his bed and laughs out loud into a pillow; he'd been keeping that inside himself ever since he parted ways with Mikkel.
And a few miles away Mikkel is telling his father how he met an actual human, who he had talked to.
And yeah. I have my doubts about my writing of Mikkel, though. I have a feeling I can't get his character down very well. Still experimenting on that character.
I enjoyed your rendition of Al and Arthur's relationship. It was very believable, and a little sad to think of Arthur subject to inevitable illnesses of old age.
I was thinking of making it a bit more hetalia-esque, but I can't write crack to save my ass, so here's psychology. And expect buckets more in the future!
When Alfred wakes up the next day, his father has already gone to work. The first thing he thinks of doing is playing hooky from work today, because he seriously wants to meet Mikkel again. His second thought crushes that first thought and he gets up to dress himself. It's not that easy anymore, he tells himself, now that dad had a...
Alfred goes downstairs and eats a bowl of cereal, before throwing the bowl in the sink and walking outside. He locks the door and goes to work. On his way he wonders briefly if today is one of those days that Arthur decides to lecture him about being late to work again.
Turns out his dad doesn't have time to lecture him today, which means that they have a lot of work to do. Alfred isn't sure if that's a good or a bad thing. Good because of, well... money. But bad, because of a lot of work. Being a secretary for your father, who is an automation engineer, is a hard job.
Alfred is more of a procrastinating type, if you didn't already gather.
When he finally gets out of that stuffy office, it's well past 7 PM. Usually he'd have been at home hours ago by now. Arthur asks him if he should make dinner for him, but Alfred shakes his head, tells him he's going to grab something for himself at a take-out and meet up with the athlete from yesterday. Arthur furrows an eyebrow at that, but doesn't say anything, except for a small see you later then.
And Alfred starts walking to the beach, wondering if he might be too late to meet up with Mikkel today. He pops by a take-out and at the last minute thinks of buying a hamburger for the dane as well, so he buys two.
The dane is there. Alfred sits down relatively close to the water and puts one paper bag down next to him, while he opens the other one to start eating. Mikkel, recognizing him from yesterday, swims close to Alfred, “Didn't think you'd show,“ he says with a smile, once he's as close as he was yesterday.
“Was busy with work,“ the american answers, his mouth full of food. He quickly takes the bag next to him and throws it to Mikkel. The athlete catches it, but just barely, and looks inside the bag curiously.
“Oh wait!“ Alfred almost shouts in a moment of clarity, scaring Mikkel half to death. He says sorry and continues, “Are you even allowed to eat hamburgers? I just now thought that maybe you can't and I should've bought a salad instead. Your trainer will be mad at you! And by extension; me!“ Mikkel shooshes the younger male, wondering briefly if Alfred forgot that he wasn't actually an athlete, before taking the hamburger out, “I can eat it, I've got no strict diet, what with me not actually being a real athlete, y'know?“
Alfred visibly relaxes and then laughs shortly, “Oh yeah! Haha, but you seem to take swimming rather seriously, and this is just me, who has known you for like... a day, at best. Actually, we met for like 15 minutes and now I guess we can say we've known each other for... 25 minutes...-ish.“ Boy, Alfred sure likes to talk a lot, Mikkel thinks, eating the hamburger slowly. It doesn't taste that bad, although the amount of grease in it almost makes him want to vomit for the first few mouthfuls. Crumpling up the paper bag, he throws it, with startling accuracy, at the american's head, and snickers when Alfred actually gets hit. He finishes his hamburger, all the while listening to the younger male's rambling about his work, the weather (really? Mikkel's a merman, but even he knows that's a shitty subject. Alfred manages to actually not make that topic so shitty, though), food, his friends.
It's entertaining, to say the least.
Before long the sun sets and it's becoming dark. Alfred offers to walk Mikkel home, which the dane refuses, but promises to meet Alfred the next day again. Mikkel goes back to the deeper waters and waves at the american, who waves back.
Suffice to say, they are now friends, even if they've known each other for only a handful of hours.
Oh dear, sorry about the long wait. You should get used to this, because I'm a lazy shitlord.
About Arthur's job though... since he likes magic in the series, then the first thing that popped into my head was a wand. A wand that shoots out electricity. So I gave him something subtle like that... I'm sorry, I just couldn't think of anything else!
Also, I'm starting to throw in references to another fandom. They're subtle, for now. If you dislike me referencing other fandoms, OP, I will not do so any longer... at least not very noticeably. I now have a headcanon about Mikkel's family of mermen and -maids. But yeah, it depends on you, OP.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Denmark/America mermaid
(Anonymous) 2012-12-06 02:22 am (UTC)(link)smut not needed but welcomed ;D
Re: Denmark/America mermaid
(Anonymous) 2012-12-07 09:05 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Denmark/America mermaid
(Anonymous) 2012-12-09 12:00 am (UTC)(link)seconding like woah
(Anonymous) 2012-12-09 08:18 am (UTC)(link)absurd amounts of want
The sea is too blue
(Anonymous) 2012-12-11 07:00 pm (UTC)(link)The sea is too blue
The first time they met, Alfred didn't know that the other was a... well, a fish. He didn't find it out the second time either. Believe it or not, he found out two years after their first meeting.
It was a somewhat special first meeting - magical, if you will. Alfred didn't believe in magic. When he later asked Mikkel if he believed in it, then the dane answered that he did not. Nevertheless, looking back on it, it seemed as close to magic as it could get.
And the first time Alfred saw him was while he was walking along the shore of a random beach in the area. The other man was swimming quite far away and the sea was otherwise void of human life. Alfred smiled and wondered if the other man was a professional swimmer. He leaned against one, out of the many, large rocks on the beach, wondering if the man would come to the shore soon. It would be cool to talk to a professional athlete.
The man did come eventually... after some initial uneasy looks. He swam close, though, and asked, "Hello? Were you looking for someone?" He had a small accent, but Alfred couldn't figure out what kind. Somewhere from Europe, probably.
The american smiled brightly and replied, slowly pushing off the rock he was leaning on, "Nah, I just couldn't help, but notice you swimming that far out - are you a professional athlete?"
The other man seemed to relax more and came closer - close enough that he could easily lay down on the sand under the water. He gave a small laugh, "No, I just like exercising. Though, I take part in many competitions from time to time." And he leaned down, stomach caressing the sand below the water, elbows holding his upper body up.
"Where are you from? I can't place your accent," Alfred said.
The water around the european was shallow, but it was dark enough, even with the sunset still there, that Alfred couldn't see the other man's lower body. He wondered briefly, if he should go closer to shake the man's hand.
"Denmark. Came here, 'cause my family needed to move to America for uh... a new home, and well, I couldn't just leave behind. My name's Mikkel, by the way," the dane gave a large smile.
Alfred smiled as well, "My name's Alfred," he said, walking to the other man, intending to shake his hand.
Mikkel quickly back-pedaled into deeper water using his hands and gave a small, nervous laugh, "I need to really get back to training now. Before the sun sets completely, you know?"
Alfred's smile fell somewhat (he took a quick look at his hands), but he nodded, "Yes, I guess I've take up a lot of your time already." They hadn't been talking for that long, not really.
The dane hesitated and then replied, "You can visit me tomorrow, though. I'll be here."
At that Alfred immediately brightened up, "So, you're gonna be here tomorrow then? Like, what time do you usually come here?"
"Oh come on!" Mikkel's voice turned mischievous, "You honestly think I don't train all day? Me? A professional athlete?" Seeing the american's bright, admiring eyes, Mikkel almost lost his composure. But no, his poker face is ungodly. There's just no way. And there's a completely different explanation why he just turned 180 degrees and began swimming away. Not because his poker face was crumbling. Nope.
"So, see you tomorrow?!" Alfred yelled after him, to which the dane just gave a small wave to say that, yes, I heard you, and yes, I agree.
Re: The sea is too blue
(Anonymous) 2012-12-11 08:15 pm (UTC)(link)I hope your hospital stay goes all right, A!A! Hospitals suck. :(
A!A
(Anonymous) 2012-12-11 10:09 pm (UTC)(link)(I'd also like to point out that this fill might start getting pretty heavy on the psychological side, because A!A has a really big fondness for psychology.)
Also, thanks :)
Re: The sea is too blue
(Anonymous) 2012-12-11 09:12 pm (UTC)(link)A!A
(Anonymous) 2012-12-11 10:29 pm (UTC)(link)Re: The sea is too blue
(Anonymous) 2012-12-12 04:01 am (UTC)(link)And I'm so glad this pairing's getting some love!
op
(Anonymous) 2012-12-15 02:24 am (UTC)(link)A!A
(Anonymous) 2012-12-22 10:00 pm (UTC)(link)And does OP want any other pairings in this, or do I have free reign? And what are the absolute no-nos of this all?
Re: A!A
(Anonymous) - 2012-12-24 02:52 (UTC) - ExpandThe Sea is Too Blue 2
(Anonymous) 2012-12-27 12:37 pm (UTC)(link)The Sea is Too Blue 2
Alfred isn't a man, who keeps his mouth shut. He needs to talk, to let it all out, no matter what he talks about. Arthur used to be quite mad at him for constantly talking about irrelevant things, but he couldn't help himself. Not that he wanted to be quiet near his dad - it was really funny how his face went nearly purple every time Alfred somehow managed to piss him off.
Until Arthur had a stroke one day.
Alfred doesn't talk around his dad that much anymore. Arthur wasn't badly hurt; he was relatively fine, except for the small tremor in his hands every once in a while. Alfred, however, doesn't want to push things anymore. He talks, oh yes he does, but less. And about things that actually matter.
Today he starts talking about Mikkel. Not much, just a little casual bump in the conversation; oh, I met an athlete today. He's a swimmer. Athletes are awesome. I should probably join something as well. Maybe you'd like to join something too – it'd be good for your health.
And Arthur scoffs a little, sipping some tea and reading a newspaper, “I dislike sweating,“ then, folding the paper like he had just finished the last article, he looks up at his son, “So where exactly did you meet an athlete? You don't usually visit gyms or the like; you work out at home.“ Arthur is a good parent, believe it or not – he is actually pretty interested in the things his son does. And the younger one is grateful for that, whether he shows it or not.
Alfred grins, “At a beach-“
“Ah.“
“-I was walking along the shore and I suddenly saw someone swimming far away in the water. He came up to me and we talked a bit, but he had to leave for training again soon after, so I left..“ He eats a few mouthfuls of his dinner – hamburgers. Arthur isn't too fond of him eating trash, but they had agreed to let Alfred eat whatever he wanted on at least one day of the week, as long as he still lived with Arthur. Today was the day (night?) it seems.
“But he made me want to take up swimming now. It seems quite fun and-“ At the last second Alfred thinks through everything he wants to say, and sighs, feeling like the weight of the World is suddenly on his shoulders, “...yeah.“ His sentences end like that lately. They end like that a lot.
Arthur nods, standing up to put his and Alfred's empty plates in the sink. When he raises the cuffs of his sleeves to start washing the dishes, Alfred takes it as a cue to go hit the hay. He stands up and puts the leftovers in the fridge and goes to his dad, hugging him loosely. He murmurs a g'night and Arthur asks him if he should wake him up in the morning. The younger one smiles and shakes his head, letting go of his father.
In his bedroom Alfred is careful not to knock over anything in his excited pacing. Instead of moving around his room he then jumps on his bed and laughs out loud into a pillow; he'd been keeping that inside himself ever since he parted ways with Mikkel.
And a few miles away Mikkel is telling his father how he met an actual human, who he had talked to.
op
(Anonymous) 2012-12-28 07:58 pm (UTC)(link)A!A
(Anonymous) 2012-12-30 03:27 pm (UTC)(link)And yeah. I have my doubts about my writing of Mikkel, though. I have a feeling I can't get his character down very well. Still experimenting on that character.
Re: The Sea is Too Blue 2
(Anonymous) 2012-12-28 08:01 pm (UTC)(link)A!A
(Anonymous) 2012-12-30 03:34 pm (UTC)(link)I was thinking of making it a bit more hetalia-esque, but I can't write crack to save my ass, so here's psychology. And expect buckets more in the future!
Re: The Sea is Too Blue 2
(Anonymous) 2012-12-28 11:33 pm (UTC)(link)A!A
(Anonymous) 2012-12-30 03:35 pm (UTC)(link)And there's more of Arthur to come in the future!
Re: The Sea is Too Blue 2
(Anonymous) 2012-12-29 01:34 am (UTC)(link)A!A
(Anonymous) - 2012-12-30 15:39 (UTC) - ExpandThe Sea is Too Blue 3
(Anonymous) 2013-01-29 06:40 pm (UTC)(link)When Alfred wakes up the next day, his father has already gone to work. The first thing he thinks of doing is playing hooky from work today, because he seriously wants to meet Mikkel again. His second thought crushes that first thought and he gets up to dress himself. It's not that easy anymore, he tells himself, now that dad had a...
Alfred goes downstairs and eats a bowl of cereal, before throwing the bowl in the sink and walking outside. He locks the door and goes to work. On his way he wonders briefly if today is one of those days that Arthur decides to lecture him about being late to work again.
Turns out his dad doesn't have time to lecture him today, which means that they have a lot of work to do. Alfred isn't sure if that's a good or a bad thing. Good because of, well... money. But bad, because of a lot of work. Being a secretary for your father, who is an automation engineer, is a hard job.
Alfred is more of a procrastinating type, if you didn't already gather.
When he finally gets out of that stuffy office, it's well past 7 PM. Usually he'd have been at home hours ago by now. Arthur asks him if he should make dinner for him, but Alfred shakes his head, tells him he's going to grab something for himself at a take-out and meet up with the athlete from yesterday. Arthur furrows an eyebrow at that, but doesn't say anything, except for a small see you later then.
And Alfred starts walking to the beach, wondering if he might be too late to meet up with Mikkel today. He pops by a take-out and at the last minute thinks of buying a hamburger for the dane as well, so he buys two.
The dane is there. Alfred sits down relatively close to the water and puts one paper bag down next to him, while he opens the other one to start eating. Mikkel, recognizing him from yesterday, swims close to Alfred, “Didn't think you'd show,“ he says with a smile, once he's as close as he was yesterday.
“Was busy with work,“ the american answers, his mouth full of food. He quickly takes the bag next to him and throws it to Mikkel. The athlete catches it, but just barely, and looks inside the bag curiously.
“Oh wait!“ Alfred almost shouts in a moment of clarity, scaring Mikkel half to death. He says sorry and continues, “Are you even allowed to eat hamburgers? I just now thought that maybe you can't and I should've bought a salad instead. Your trainer will be mad at you! And by extension; me!“ Mikkel shooshes the younger male, wondering briefly if Alfred forgot that he wasn't actually an athlete, before taking the hamburger out, “I can eat it, I've got no strict diet, what with me not actually being a real athlete, y'know?“
Alfred visibly relaxes and then laughs shortly, “Oh yeah! Haha, but you seem to take swimming rather seriously, and this is just me, who has known you for like... a day, at best. Actually, we met for like 15 minutes and now I guess we can say we've known each other for... 25 minutes...-ish.“ Boy, Alfred sure likes to talk a lot, Mikkel thinks, eating the hamburger slowly. It doesn't taste that bad, although the amount of grease in it almost makes him want to vomit for the first few mouthfuls. Crumpling up the paper bag, he throws it, with startling accuracy, at the american's head, and snickers when Alfred actually gets hit. He finishes his hamburger, all the while listening to the younger male's rambling about his work, the weather (really? Mikkel's a merman, but even he knows that's a shitty subject. Alfred manages to actually not make that topic so shitty, though), food, his friends.
It's entertaining, to say the least.
Before long the sun sets and it's becoming dark. Alfred offers to walk Mikkel home, which the dane refuses, but promises to meet Alfred the next day again. Mikkel goes back to the deeper waters and waves at the american, who waves back.
Suffice to say, they are now friends, even if they've known each other for only a handful of hours.
A!A
(Anonymous) 2013-01-29 06:44 pm (UTC)(link)Oh dear, sorry about the long wait. You should get used to this, because I'm a lazy shitlord.
About Arthur's job though... since he likes magic in the series, then the first thing that popped into my head was a wand. A wand that shoots out electricity. So I gave him something subtle like that... I'm sorry, I just couldn't think of anything else!
Also, I'm starting to throw in references to another fandom. They're subtle, for now. If you dislike me referencing other fandoms, OP, I will not do so any longer... at least not very noticeably. I now have a headcanon about Mikkel's family of mermen and -maids. But yeah, it depends on you, OP.
Re: The Sea is Too Blue 3
(Anonymous) 2013-01-29 10:17 pm (UTC)(link)Can't wait for the next part!
A!A
(Anonymous) - 2013-01-30 18:11 (UTC) - ExpandRe: A!A
(Anonymous) - 2013-01-30 20:01 (UTC) - ExpandA!A
(Anonymous) - 2013-01-31 18:49 (UTC) - ExpandRe: The Sea is Too Blue 3
(Anonymous) 2013-01-30 03:07 pm (UTC)(link)A!A
(Anonymous) - 2013-01-30 18:13 (UTC) - Expandop
(Anonymous) 2013-02-18 02:30 am (UTC)(link)but yay! i like where this is going, can't wait to see alfreds reaction when he finds out mikkel's a merman XD
A!A
(Anonymous) - 2013-02-23 11:45 (UTC) - Expand