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ego-meliorem-esse · 1 year

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Public Figures AU

The fantastic and very fuckin funny @sunnylolli reminded me of my own au where the countries are public knowledge and people have known about them for a while.

In my au the countries have been public knowledge forever. In my humble opinion it's very hard to hide immortal being from humans. There would be too many questions, too many stories and too much effort in hiding such a thing. The public is used to them and treats them like any B-list celebrity

ALFRED IS MADE FOR THE SPOTLIGHT! That boy is so comfortable in the spotlight its actually an issue. He posts so regularly on social media that one could consider that one of his hobbies. Being that famous of course, he can't really work for NASA or have a normal engineering job (like in my regular universe) so he has a big social media presence. Be that instagram, twitter, tiktok, youtube or even twitch.

Alfred streams on twitch with Gilbert. They play some FPS and talk about some historical event completely unrelated to the game.

Arthur has a personal instagram account where he only posts pictures of his garden, his books an his kids. Every once in a while he posts a picture of Zee or Jack while they were younger during the victorian era in those frilly dresses and one of them will just be like: "dad delete this or im rebelling"

Arthur is active on facebook and so is Francis

Francis only follows cooking channels, fashion blogs and philosophical content. He constantly endorses brands and takes part in commercials for Vogue, LV, Dior... He is a sort of sponsor/face for some brands and is asked to promote them online. You'll see his face in every third magazine and fashion articles follow him on a regular basis.

Matt is the one who avoids the spotlight the most. He will answer interview questions and do a QnA on tv or youtube but will hybernate for the rest of the year afterwards. He is also the one who is most secretive about where he lives. De has a huge fear of doxing himself and wants more than anything to keep his privacy. In my universe Matt is still a doctor and has a clinical doctorate in medicine but can't work as one due to being a sort-of celebrity. That's why he still gives lectures on college campuses and publishes papers regularly but doesn't work in any clinic or hospital.

Smaller countries have an easier time with fame and being public knowledge. They can walk around in their own countries on the street and pass of as a normal human being while, for example, Alfred has a harder time doing the same. Being himself, he is lucky he hasn't doxed himself yet and doesn't have paparazzi follow him from his home to work.

There are some meetings held by personifications that are broadcasted to the world to see and people online make compilations of cringe and funny moments during those meetings. (That would be my fat ass in that au)

"10 minutes of Francis being himself at the UN" the youtube video

Countries are often asked to help and aide with the makings of history books and are often cited as a source at the end.

Countries are legal citizens and have rights. Not all rights but the ones that the do have include: right to life, right to freedom from torture and inhumane treatment, the right to equal treatment before the law, the right to privacy, the right to freedom of thought (religion, opinion and expression), the right to work, the right to education, the right to social services... While not having certain rights like the right to marry but all the while having a right to have a family.

Gilberts diaries are considered a valid source of historical information unfortunately for us

I have so many more hcs for this au holy shit

#hetalia #meli speaks #hetalia au #hetalia public figures au #historical hetalia #hws america #hws canada #hws france #hws england #hws prussia #another universe #god damn i cant tell you how long ive had this au in the making #this might be lame but it came straight from the heart

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violettduchess · 1 year

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hi violet, can i req for gilbert, prompt forbidden love? if it's ok i'll leave it up to you whether if it's gonna be a fic or hc :) thank you

A/N: You all voted for this to be an Angel / Devil AU and here we are.

CW: death, sickness, war

Gilbert x Reader

Word Count: 2650

1095: the Holy Land

The first time you see him it is over a rising cloud of brown dust, stamped from the earth by a cacophony of hooves and sandaled feet charging at each other. Sunlight glints off curved steel and chain mail as blades from both sides bite into flesh, punctuating the haze with red droplets.

Through the blood and dust you see him, walking amid the chaos. He is, quite simply, the most beautiful being you have ever seen. Every movement exudes grace, from the bend of his torso to the tilt of his head. He is so arresting that you stop in your tracks, frozen under the burning sun, watching him across the din until he turns his head. Fatefully, his gaze finds yours. His eyes, the clearest, deepest red you have ever seen, pull you in, like a fishing line cast into the ocean. You find yourself moving towards him, the epicurean tide drawn to the beauty of the ethereal moon, breathless with something. Time stands still, all sound dwindling into nothingness. The screaming of men, the groaning of the dying, the frenzied cries of horses, it all fades when he smiles, your heart suddenly caught in the curve of his lips, the line of his jaw.

And then he sees you clearly, as the dust begins to clear, as the last man lays gasping, calling for his mother. He sees you and his beautiful face darkens with an emotion you are all too familiar with. The shadowed mask of fear.

You blink and he is gone.

1348: London, England

It is nearly a millennium before you see him again. You step outside of the small, dank house, the smell of sickness lingering in the air. It clings to you, the sheen of rot and ejecta, and you are grateful for a moment’s respite. It is then you see him, walking alongside the rickety wooden cart piled high with bodies, some still oozing sickness from their sores.

“Bring out your dead!”

The man pulling the cart and yelling is sweating, salty droplets of water leave tracks in the dirt caked on his sallow skin. His heartbeat is too fast, too erratic but he fights it, the fist squeezing his lungs, wanting to get just one more footstep further away from this thing they call the Black Death.

But then his voice is gone, his knees buckling as his heart finally gives up the fight. Gilbert, draped in robes the color of twilight, kneels in the dirt road beside him. You watch as his pale hand touches the man’s face and soothes back his matted hair. He speaks and whatever you expected his voice to sound like, it is not this. Not like the soft sound of the wind sweeping across rolling plains. Not like the velvet depth of night, when darkness blankets the mortal world.

“Hello Richard." He is gentle, so very gentle. "My name is Gilbert." He cups the man's face with a tender hand. "It’s ok, my friend. There is nothing to fear. It’s simply time to let go.”

Like a being transfixed, you watch as he guides the soul from its prison of flesh and bones, and with a wave of his hand, sends it on its way.

“You look so young.”

The words leave you before you can stop them. You know speaking to him is forbidden and yet, somehow, it feels as natural to you as sunlight.

He looks up at your words and again, the flicker of fear burns in the red brightness of his eyes. He rises slowly and you admire the way he conquers it so quickly.

“I’m older than you.”

He knows he should not answer you and yet he does, turning to face you fully now. You tilt your chin upwards, letting him look, letting him drink his fill of the sight of you.

“I’ve never seen you before.”

Something dances across his face, tears his gaze away from your form.

“My duties were elsewhere for a time.”

The story behind his words is in his eyes, straining to be freed. His lips burn with the need to tell you more.

And then the bell tolls and you both look in its direction.

Time is fleeting. You have work to do.

With great effort you turn away from him, walking toward the next sad building reeking of death. When you look over your shoulder, past the curve of your leathery wings, you find him watching you.

And you smile.

1839: Mazatlán, Mexico

The winds and water have washed away the small town on the coast. There is nothing left of it, aside from bits of broken buildings and bodies lying in watery graves.

An old woman with a broken back lays, panting heavily as the light slowly fades from her dark eyes. You approach her, your heavy robes trailing in the dirty water and mud. When she sees you, her breathing quickens, her eyes widen and her fingers, old and gnarled and broken, scramble to touch the worn silver cross that has hung around her neck for the last sixty-eight years. Little does she know it too has been lost in the storm. You kneel beside her and she whimpers, her whole body trembling as you reach down, laying your hand on her forehead.

“Por favor,” her voice creaks, “por favor.”

“Begging won’t save you now. You know the life you led. The women you sold. The children.” It doesn’t matter what you say. They can always understand you.

Her body spasms as you reach for her, the real her, the essence inside. Her last words die unspoken on her lips as you send her soul to its journey's end..

Rising, you scan the debris, feel the call of so many souls and you are weary. You make your way towards the beach, stepping over the rubble until you have reached the soft, white sand and smooth gray boulders. You slump down against one of them, tired. The sand is soft, the boulders warm with collected sunlight. You have learned to appreciate the simple things of this plane of existence. The sound of the ocean. The smell of the salty air.

“So even your kind needs a break.”

That voice.

He is standing above you, backlit by the sun, and you wholly believe he is worthy of the countless prayers shot to the heavens by pleading lips.

You can’t help but smile. “Come sit with me. Take a break yourself.”

He smiles back and your heart cracks open, bursting with something newborn and unexpected. Something you can’t give a name to, yet.

“Isn’t there a story about a garden and a serpent that starts this way?” But he lowers himself until he is next to you. His arm brushes yours and it feels like holy fire.

“I shouldn’t be here.” Your voice is softer than usual as you watch the roll of the waves along the beach. A single shoe made for a tiny foot bobs alone in the water. Its former owner is his responsibility. Babies always are.

“You’re doing your job.”

“No, I mean here. With you.”

The words sound as loud to your ears as the waves crashing into the rocks scattered about the shallows. Embarrassed, you start to move away from him, from his warmth and his light and his heavenly smile.

And then you feel his hand wrap around yours, the dawn grasping the dusk, and he pulls you towards him.

Falling into his embrace is easy, so much easier than you ever would have believed, easier than you could have dreamed. Easier than all the rules that say it is forbidden would have you think it is. He is light and warmth to your shadow and shade. You drink him in, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him close against you. He gasps softly into your hungry mouth, stunned by the feel of you.

His kind have always been told a litany of warnings to stay away from you. That nothing good will ever come of associating with devils. That he would burn in the pit fires of hell if the rules were ever broken. And oh he is burning, just not the way they described.

As he pulls you against him, your softness yielding to the planes of his body, he does burn. He burns with a singular need to kiss you, to touch you, to claim you as his. He burns with a desire far more dangerous than hellfire. It sharpens him, hardens him, shifts his purpose with every movement of your lips against his. Your mouth is ambrosia. Nothing will ever taste as good ever again. He will forever be thirsty for it. The feel of your hands, pressed against his back, just under his wings, is branded into him, changing him, claiming him.

It is only the tolling of the celestial bell that falls like an ax through the haze of your lust. The call to work.

“I must go.” He looks over his shoulder, then back to you, his dark hair falling across his forehead in a way that makes your fingers ache to touch it. “We’ll meet again.”

He stands slowly, spreads his large, white feathery wings and in a rush of wind, a flash of light, he’s gone, leaving you alone on the beach with the mournful sobs of the dying, the monotonous lull of the ocean’s waves and his kiss burning on your lips.

October 1916: Somme River; Picardy, Northern France

It feels wrong, rushing to meet him with the thunderous sounds of war rocking the world, and the deadly fog of mustard gas rising like a cobra to sink its fangs into shaking men. Even you shudder as the shrill cry of artillery shells and the spitting rage of the machine guns echo hell on earth. Men are dying in record numbers but it is precisely for this reason that you can meet. The bloody ground with its endless sea of death and destruction masks your movements from anyone who may wonder where exactly you are. Too many souls departing too quickly. Everyone is busy, thanks to men and their thirst for war. Angels and devils alike roam the ravaged fields, answering the call of the doomed.

He waits for you behind a burned-out house amid charred, leafless trees. You gasp when you see him. One eye is covered by a swath of black silk.

“What happened?” Your hands are on his face, now familiar to your touch. You have loved him for almost a century, a drop in the ocean of time, and yet, short as it may be, it feels essential. Sacred.

“They know.”

Those two words sink into your heart like a stone, dragging you down into a trench of despair. He has lost an eye in punishment. There will be more coming. The sky above you explodes orange against gray.

There are so many words that they stifle your speech, stacking one behind the other in your throat. None of them will change anything. None of them will save you. He reaches out, pulling you into the shelter of his embrace, a tender kiss placed on the top of your head, between your short, black horns.

“It will be alright. I have a plan.”

You tilt your face up to look at him as the world rumbles, heavy tanks rolling like moving fortresses through the dead fields.

“I will come for you. Give me time.” He sounds so sure.

Dread crawls up your spine with tiny, grasping claws but you nod slowly. You trust him.

He leans down, pressing a light kiss to your lips, a small beacon of hope in the darkness that surrounds you, the darkness that fills you. Then he steps away, unfurls his pristine wings, and vanishes, leaving you alone amid the wreckage.

2023: St. Anne’s Nursing Center; Regina, Canada.

The old man sees you, although his eyes stopped working years ago. Ignoring the exhausted muttering of the overworked nurse, his drawn face, etched with lines and mottled with brown spots, turns towards the doorway where you stand.

You are never who they want to see. You with your black wings and horns, with your fiery eyes and ashen skin. You, devil. His heart, worn and faded, skips its final beat as you walk over, curling your cool fingers around his frail wrist.

He wants to scream but all that comes out is a wheeze of fetid breath. Holding his wrist in your hand you lean down, lips close to his ear.

“It’s time.”

Every last living cell in his body wants to fight and you sigh, tightening your hold on him. It’s not a pleasant end when they fight, especially once they realize where they are going. And this one has reason to fight. His soul is as tainted as can be, a history of violence and hate and a pile of bones that will eventually be unearthed in the far corner of his remote property. Too many for just one person.

He submits, his soul needing to be pried from its cage of weak bone and flaccid muscle before you are finally able to send it down, down, down where it belongs.

There are others here, dancing on the edge of this life and the beyond, but none require your attention. Not today. You leave the now still body, making your way down the generic beige hallway and across the dated, olive-green tile of the entrance until you are outside, breathing in the cold, clean winter air.

Above you, the sky is black, the moon only a sliver of silver amid the twinkling stars. You’re about to move on when you hear it. The unmistakable beat of wings.

You turn and you see him, dropping down to the ground in one elegant movement. What you see brings both hands to your mouth, snatches the breath from your lungs.

Gone are the soft white feathers of his wings. They have been plucked out, burned away. The bloody leftovers re-formed into the stretched black leather of bat wings, darker than yours and wider. His robes are darkest obsidian, his hair midnight kissed by stars. And sprouting from it, the surest sign of what he has done: long, black horns, curled like a ram’s and deadly sharp.

“No…..no……” You know what this means and it brings you to your knees, right there on the icy pavement. His red eye is aflame with determination as he walks over to you, leaning down to take a strong hold of your arms and lift you again.

“It was the only way.” His voice is steady, gentle but sure.

You shake your head. “You are Fallen. You know what He will do. What you will have to do to prove yourself.” The Morningstar is cruelest to those just like Him.

Gilbert brushes your soft hair back, his skin pale as bone, now cold as ice.

“I will not only endure it, but I will conquer it and prove that I have earned a place among His agents. Perhaps….even….conquer Him.” His expression softens as he cups your face, his thumb stroking the line of your cheekbone. “I can master anything. You are by my side. You,” he pauses, his voice a whisper that roars louder than thunder, “are the reason for it all.”

And then his mouth is on yours and you melt against him, love for him clouding the danger of his words, the fear of what is to come. You wrap your arms around him and you return his kiss hungrily, greedily, covetous. His teeth sink into your lower lip, his wings extending to black out the sky before wrapping themselves around you, his hands grasping at your robes, yanking handfuls of it away from your skin until he can take hold of the soft underside of your thighs. With a deep growl he lifts you, pulling you against him, his unbound lust finally free.

After all…..he too is now a devil.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @queen-dahlia @aceuuuuu @scorchieart @bubblexly @joiedecombat

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri gilbert #ikemen gilbert #gilbert von obsidian #gilbert x reader #forbidden love #angel devil au #cw death #cw sickness #cw war #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen fanfic #otome fanfic #broken heartstrings #violettwrites

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leonscape · 4 months

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ikepri modern au thoughts

if they lived in today’s era what kind of music would they like?

jin would have the best taste in music, although the songs are a bit older. still great taste in music guaranteed to have the whole car vibing every time he got the aux. doesn’t listen to just one genre but he doesn’t listen to everything.

chevalier idk bro seems like he would listen to classical music like mozart and beethoven and shit

clavis would just listen to tiktok sounds

leon listens to anything and everything. if you like it, then he’ll listen to it. he tries to follow along to rap and he’s cringey when sings along to country songs. probably listens to songs in different languages too

yves i think would also listen to classical music but also has some pop faves also i think he’s the type to make playlists for literally everything

licht idk maybe some lofi stuff? he chill frfr or he might be into indie bands because he’s not like other guys

i don’t know nokto well enough so i think he would also listen to tiktok stuff

luke probably listens to nature asmr. maybe like animal asmr? idk that’s kinda weird nvm but like if it’s not raining and he wants to pretend he’s in an emotional movie, he’ll listen to rain/thunderstorm sounds. or maybe he wants to be at the ocean so he listens to waves crashing.

gilbert listens to girlfriend asmr because he wants to pretend like he’s in a relationship (me fr) i think he also watches/listens to asmr mukbangs

silvio doesn’t listen to music. he can’t because of all his jangling. just kidding (actually not really because i don’t know him that well too) so i’m just gonna say he listens to rap or aggressive metal songs. and then there’s like hoe anthem songs sprinkled in there because it makes him feel like the hottest mf out there

keith idk he probably also listens to girlfriend asmr because gilbert suggested it to him. and he secretly likes it?

sariel is too stressed to listen to music. oh maybe he should so he can relieve stress. maybe some calming meditation music? edit: he listens to podcasts and audiobooks

rio listens to whatever emma listens to.

idk y’all can hc whatever this is what i came up with on the spot

#ikemen prince #ikepri

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ludwigbeilschmidts · 8 months

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a symptom of being human - germerica

master post.

how did they meet?

they're both 16 at the time.

alfred needed to get out of the states so he just said “i’ll do au pair” and got sent to germany.

on his way from the airport to wherever he has to go he literally bumps into ludwig.

al falls down, his headphones disconnect and his music starts blaring.

it’s miracle by shinedown

lud, as one does, looks down at al and instead of helping him up or offering his hand, he pulls out his phone and shows him what he’s listening to. it’s also miracle by shinedown.

al forgets he’s just been pushed to the ground and immediately gets up like “WHOA DUDE THIS IS LIKE FATE OR SOMETHING?” and ludwig doesn’t quite know what’s going on but he thinks he just made a new friend, so he nods along.

al still has a bit of time left before he has to go to his au pair house so they grab a coffee together and exchange numbers afterwards.

how did they get together?

they've been in love for a long time. them getting together was a long time coming, but it takes them ages.

they've known each other longer than gilbert and arthur had, but it takes them until after gil and arthur get married to finally get together.

really, it already begins during the wedding, because gil and arthur make them dance with each other as a means of pushing them along.

the issue as to why it takes them so long is partly because it just takes them forever to realize their own feelings. it's obvious to pretty much anyone else, except to them. ludwig has trouble getting in touch with his own feelings and alfred doesn't think about his feelings. he experiences them.

and when they both realize it, they've been friends for well over three years, and neither knows how to address it without risking their friendship. especially because al knows it'd be a big change in their dynamic either way, and he can't put ludwig (who deals horribly with change) through that.

ludwig has to admit he can't understand social cues at all, and therefore is completely blind to the signs that al likes him as well, no matter how many times someone else might tell him he likes him.

(it's never gilbert, though, because he promised alfred not to tell. so he doesn't, even if it's agony to watch them dance around each other.)

but when arthur and gilbert make them dance with each other, they'd planned this. they'd planned the song, they'd planned the timing and it ended up working perfectly.

they kissed then. and had a long, long, long conversation about it afterwards.

random hc's.

they have two pets. a golden retriever named aster and a cat named fortnite. alfred named fortnite, and ludwig thought the name was ridiculous, but he cannot say no to alfred.

miracle was their wedding song, and ludwig might have cried just a bit when he and alfred danced to it.

ludwig tries his best to help al with learning german, and he thinks it's adorable that al tries so hard. he loves it when he is confident in what he's saying, and he encourages him as best he can.

english is their go-to language, but randomly al will try to speak in german.

they love each other so much, it's ridiculous, especially because ludwig is very emotionally constipated, but al brings out the best in him.

ludwig's love language is acts of service, alfred's is quality time.

they go out regularly because alfred drags ludwig out of their apartment. he doesn't like doing nothing, he always needs something to do.

#hetalia #germerica #gerame #hws germany #hws america #asobh

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the1weepinqguitar · 9 months

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assorted doodles

this one is john l. of tmbg. i dunno why I made this. doodled it on my animating tablet in google canvas the other day.

first sketches I ever did of him! I was on vacation for the 4th and did these before I left. Turned out pretty okay for a first sketch.

sketch of a purple martin. I've been studying anatomy (of mostly cats, birds and humans) and this was sort of a drawing etude. Done with graphite pencil.

my HCS character. his name is Foss, after the cartoonist Edward Lear's cat. Saw some drawings of said cat and decided i liked his name. this man is an ornithologist (my dream profession)

sketch of my characters Gef and Gilbert (left and right, respectively)

a merchant from my world of bird characters. he is a Gloster canary.

more drawings of Gilbert. i love him. i also made a plush of him that I intend to post pictures of soon, along with Gef.

my little brother insisted that I make Gef a scientist. this concept has its own AU made after it. thanks, kid.

two pages of a comic about Prof. Geoffrey Polecat.

Gef. SYOC stands for "Smile, You're On Camera!, which is a collection of short stories I made based in a sci-fi world. Most characters in it are inspired by the entirety of Nature Tapes by Lemon Demon.

gilbert's life is slowly falling apart around him and he is helpless to stop it so he might as well become a cat I guess

HCS characters again.

explanation for Foss' design.

Meliora. Lives in the same bird world as Merchant. Her design is based on Good Day by Tally Hall. She is a blue finch.

a single flansy doodle from my notebook.

rob cantor. he looks a little nervous ngl

wip oil pastel piece of my mom's cat.

Etude. Drew a cat's face from memory while I was out doing stuff.

a little crow I drew on some old poster board. the streak across its tail was unintentional btw

anyways, that's all i have for yall for now. Have a nice day!

#assorted fanarts and such #oc doodles #bird drawings #cat drawings #some tmbg and tally hall stuff but mainly oc art

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aquagirl1978 · 10 months

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#no promises made any of these are being written #curious what others are interested in #aqua polls #ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri chevalier #ikepri nokto #ikepri gilbert

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angelicalacrimae · 6 months

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headcanons for modern au gilbert?

what's your "craziest" headcanon or a headcanon you think might be hard to sell

what are your favorite headcanons of yours that you wish other people shared

gilserge headcanons?? idk what to ask specifically but give them pls

CLAPS HANDS TOGETHER.

so, for modern au gilbert i consider he's way tamer than in canon, he's not as. how to put it. bitchy???? he's way more emotional in my head, he can go from anger to sadness in the blink of an eye. he still slaps people's hands away though.

he probably had a short model career that he got bored of (when he was quite young, remember when in paris they put his face in the newspapers? yeah, he wasn't AS big of a celebrity but you could recognize his face in a few magazines)

also, i like to think he's slightly more aware of his Situation now, but he still chooses to not do anything because- what's the point if no one will do anything? the world already sees him as one thing, after all ...

my "craziest" hc is that he looks like he likes weird mixes of food, thinking of him dipping his french fries in a milkshake for example ... he would like that. also he would prefer air fried food because he hates the feeling of oil. autism strikes again i GUESS. he can't eat in restaurants because of that.

i don't think i have any particular gilbert hcs that i would like to share with others, but i DO wish they highlighted his love for animals a bit more! i love exploring his softer side because i just love humanizing him, i would love more people to talk about how he likes animals, how he would cope with the death of one, or the fact that auguste didn't allow him to have a pet. you know, that kind of thing. i also love to see him engage in "childish" activities (like watching movies for kids)

as for the gilserge headcanons i don't have many . . . hcing ships is HARD. but i do like to think gilbert blocks him for every little thing that happens ... he said something he didn't like? blocked. serge said he was going to bed and didn't say "ily"? blocked. block block block.

also i think gilbert would go to serge's house in the middle of the night and be like "hey :( open the door :( it's cold :("

#kaze to ki no uta #gilbert cocteau #gilserge #風と木の詩 #headcanons

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nartblartmallcop · 1 year

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Hey hey heyo I'm here to complete the art of everyone's guys from that picrew post!!

All the different designs belong to:

@lulubeanie @dedfandom-xwx @four-of-crows @sherbetyy @dhmis-autism @joepelling @pubpyboy111 @idont-know-what-im-doing

#don't hug me i'm scared #dhmis yellow guy #hc au gilbert #doodles #dhmis human #humanisation #Based the colours off of the picrews only lol but that kinda made it more fun to me

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krizs-main · 1 year

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We as a society are missing out on the fluffybird content that can be derived from the love short

#don't hug me i'm scared #dhmis yellow guy #hc au gilbert #dhmis red guy #hc au radley #dhmis duck #hc au quentin #dhmis shrignold #fluffybird #doodles #I've been really itching lately to draw my yt short designs of the trio #That's mainly what this is an excuse for #humanization #dhmis human #I'll remember the tags one of these days 💀

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prussiacide · 1 year

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nations who are good cooks

ok, i got a lot of ideas about this one too

romano: starting with the obvious. when he was living in america and working for alfred (seems like the interwar period?) he cooked for him along with being essentially a personal maid. and ofc its only natural that the representative of southern italy would be an amazing cook. in my human aus, i usually have romano either starting a restaurant or working as a chef, and in nation aus, i would imagine food is one of the areas he is never lazy in. if romano was at one point the representative of naples, than pizza would be a specialty of his (and he would have some STRONG feelings on all the different incarnations of pizza in america and arounf the world), along with pasta with seafood in it and dishes with salami. overall romano is def one of the best cooks out of all characters

antonio: ok, basically if spamano had kids their children would be blessed with amazing food no matter which parents cooking. antonio’s favorite part of cooking is watching others enjoy it. he loves having big dinners with his friends, like romano, ned, bel, francis, gilbert, and watching their reactions, seeing just how much they enjoy it. he’s kinda like when ur grandma coaxes u eat more even when ur full. and of course, olive oil is used heavily, perhaps even excessively, in all of his recipes. whenever romano asks him for a recipe for one of his dishes, antonio always refuses to give up the ‘secret ingredient,’ and everytime romano accurately guesses it’s (surprise!) olive oil

francis: i mean, he’s in the gastronomy or gastronomics or whatever they call it club in the hetalia academy episodes. and french cuisine is some of the most famous and delicious in the world. im not talking about the stupid little five-bite-and-ur-done french dishes they have at fancy restaurants, no, when francis cooks, it’s hearty, delicious, and filling. he’s especially skilled at making soups (even arthur cant deny that his french onion soup is absolutely amazing), quiches, and ratatouille, lots of so-called peasant dishes that will leave you full for hours and will make u feel warm and satisfied

sadik: yet another member of the gastronomy club in the hetalia academy episodes, sadik cooks very frequently in his free time (he’s another character who i often make a chef in my human aus). turkish cuisine, much like turkish culture, is influenced by a variety of different sources, like european, middle eastern, and asian, so i imagine that sadik is adept at cooking foods of different cultures around the world, and likes to incorporate flavors he considers ‘exotic’ into his dishes

yao: yao is shown to immediately want to care for people around him who are sick (such as immediately running to care for kiku when he has a cold) and i imagine him cooking for others is a big part of that natural instinct to care for those around him. now, im unfortunately only familiar with westernized chinese cuisine (which i hc that bc of yao’s appreciation of china towns and chinese diaspora around the world he would still enjoy westernized chinese food), so i cant really comment on specific authentic dishes, but think of warm soups and light snacks. those are his specialities.

tolys: i imagine that in soviet times, ivan had tolys doing a million things at once, including being a personal assisstant/secretary, cleaning the house, and cooking. i dont think tolys would love cooking or consider it a hobby, rather something that needs to be done bc people need to eat, but after years of cooking for the other bloc nations, he’s grown pretty good at making a variety of eastern european dishes, like russian pelmeni, polish pierogi, lithuanian beet soup, or ukrainian borscht, whatever ingredients he could get his hands on and whatever he could do to make the other bloc nations feel at home

gilbert: i only include gilbert bc i feel like although he wouldn’t be an amazing cook, he would be adept at throwing together an edible meal from found ingredients and anything he can get his hands on. the mans been a warrior/soldier his whole life, armys are not generally famous for their cuisine, so i bet over the centuries he’s become good at improving meals with found ingredients. he could make a decent meal out of some shit he found in the wilderness. i also bet hes amazing at making one specific dish—not sure what it is yet, still have to pick one — but just one specific food he can make on special occasions and everyone is blown away that ‘wow! gilbert can cook?’

#hetalia

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