If I Still Can Ask Questions For The 50 Hetalia Asks, I'd Like You To Answer: 14, 15, 20, 23

If I still can ask questions for the 50 Hetalia asks, I'd like you to answer: 14, 15, 20, 23

14: What popular ship do you not like?

USUK. I could never see them as non-familial personally. Though, I've seen a few works of this ship that have been pleasant.

15: What unpopular ship do you like?

I feel like ItaPan and GerUK should be obvious if you take a glance at my ao3 lmao.

20: Do you have any crossover ships with any hetalia characters?

A few as a joke but uhh. not that I can think of? It's cool to see when they pop up though.

23: Is Germany the Holy Roman Empire?

Hmm... Short answer: Almost. Now I'll write either way depending on what a story needs, but my personal belief is that it's a reincarnation situation. Kinda. I mean putting another soul into an old body is technically reincarnation right? or is it reanimation... fuck idk. have fun.

I would have a question.

Have you ever wrote a 1P! character and a 2P! character meeting? For example, England getsto know 2P! England.

If not, maybe you could try it.

I had not before receiving this, so thank you for the ask!

I took your example literally because why not, plus it made the most sense to rationalize with magic, so here ya go.

"Foils"

Feat. The Magic Men

The first thing that Oliver noticed was that he was not in his world. The buildings looked wrong, the trees looked different, and the streets were entirely empty except for one man. This man, however, was the one he had been seeking, so maybe it wasn't all wrong after all.

"Oh, lovely! Hello there."

The other man whipped his head around, standing from the bench. The green eyes and sand-blond hair were unsettlingly similar in texture and shape to Oliver's, but that was alright. That was a sign that he had the right man.

"Are you alright there? You're not unable to speak, right? That'd be rather unpleasant."

"...just who are you?" The man finally spoke, approaching Oliver cautiously. He adjusted his own leather jacket a bit.

"Oh, y'know, only a simple kitchen witch. Oliver Kirkland, it's a pleasure to meet you!"

"Uh- Arthur, here." The man looked around, then back at the bright blues that were trained on him. That, plus the unnaturally pink blond of Oliver's hair made him wary. "Just where are we? I mean, besides just outside the tower of London."

"This is what your tower of London looks like? Hm... It's a bit, well, dreadful."

"Who are you to call this place dreadful, you look like you've dressed yourself in stale cotton candy!"

"Well that was a bit rude. I thought you would be more of a, what was it... gentleman?" He tilted his head and gave a cheshire grin.

"God damn it. So I see we look similar to each other, bar the clothes. Is that the only reason you're in my dream?" Arthur scowled. He had no choice but to hate it all.

"Nope!" Oliver grinned even wider, somehow. "I've actually come to get your advice on something. See there's a small problem I'm trying where I'm from, it's quite the bother."

"Well, go on?" How could Arthur refuse when this strange near-doppelgänger had contacted him in his mind.

"Do you know how to make people happy?" The question was the first of Oliver's words in this exchange laced with any sincerity. "The people where I live are always such dreadful pessimistic downers, and all I've ever wanted was to lift their spirits. Some of them, however, tend to call me insane for thinking so positively. Can you believe it?"

"Oh." Arthur looked dumbfounded. "Hah, figures you're an optimist. Let me guess, they all say that the world is awful because nothing good ever happens to them?"

"Yea, it gets a little depressing!" Oliver giggled.

"Well, that's how I think most of the time..." Arthur sighed, wishing he had something to think about that was even a little positive. "While I try to be nice for others, all I can think is that the world hates me. Which is bloody terrible, because I'm connected to it."

"Aha! We really are opposites!" Oliver leaned into his personal space. "I'd figured you might give me some marvelous insight about yourself, if you're supposed to be my direct foil!"

"Just how did you contact me anyways?" Arthur chuckled to himself, finding Oliver's constant schoolgirl-giggling infectious.

"Oh, just a little potion I put in my tea."

"...Maybe we're not complete opposites. That's exactly what I do with my own potions."

"Well, you know what they say! A spoonful of cinnamon-"

"I beg your pardon? It's sugar."

"Well, I could have sworn it was cinnamon. A spoonful of cinnamon helps the poison go down?"

"Well- I mean- Are you telling me that in your world, Mary Poppins is a murderer?" Arthur looked even more dumbfounded than before.

"Why, it's one of my favorite horror films. Howcome?" Oliver couldn't help his own confusion, wondering what Arthur's 'Mary Poppins' film was like.

"Bloody hell... Two sides of the same coin indeed."

"Yea, foils, like I said."

A moment of silence passed, the foils sitting on a bench.

"You're not a murderer too, are you?" Arthur asked quietly.

"Well, only when I need to be." Oliver replied. "Such as when a poor mortal disrespects something I value!"

"Ah... I don't have such loose criteria, I'm afraid."

"Oh, don't worry, poppet. Not all of us need to be monsters."

"I realize that, but I don't think you're a monster. You've proven to be kind. Flawed, and maybe a little trigger happy, but optimistic. That has to mean something if you live in a world of pessimistic arseholes like myself." Arthur let himself relax into the bench.

Oliver stared at him, the baby blue of his eyes welling up with unnecessarily tears. He blinked and wiped his face on his sleeve after a moment.

"Are you alright-"

"I really needed to hear that! Haha! Thank you, honestly." He didn't bother going into the complexity of it just yet. He wanted to appreciate being told he was kind for now.

"Well, you're a nice chap, so... you're welcome." Arthur smiled awkwardly.

Oliver almost wanted to talk about how cutthroat his world was. He wanted to talk about the suffering he endured, or the way he spited his world with a smile. He wanted to talk about the pain he watched others go through, just to make him feel like an idiot for trying to smile.

The alarm clock by his bed interrupted him, though.

"Seems I'll have to go soon." Oliver muttered. "So long, Arthur! Have a nice rest of your dream!" Oliver's cheshire grin returned, and he waved to his counterpart happily.

"Yeah, alright, I'll try." Arthur offered a smile in return. "You go and live your life, alright? I'd rather not make it a habit to peer into the life of my sparkly doppelgänger."

"Sparkly? I'll have you know that this is pastel!"

"Hah. Foils after all..."

It was at that moment that Oliver walked-no, skipped-away, fading into the horizon.

"..hah. He's bonkers."

...

Oliver woke up in the embrace of soft cushions he had made, along with the feeling of paper by one of his hands.

"Ahh... Good morning, my world. Magnificent day we're having already, hm?" His voice was soft, as it usually was in the morning.

It was at that point, James wandered into his room.

"Can I help you?" Oliver offered, smiling in spite of his disheveled state.

"It's three PM... What the fuck are you doing in bed?" He adjusted his sunglasses with an annoyed expression. The classic RBF of this particular Canadian.

"Well, since you've asked, I'd be delighted to tell you."

...

Arthur felt someone tapping his shoulder as he began to wake up, light flooding into his vision. It was startling enough to recall the odd dream, and even more startling to see that he'd fallen asleep at his desk. All in all, just an incredibly weird experience.

"Agh, what in god's name-" Arthur finally whipped around to see he whom had disturbed his slumber.

"Sorry, you just... It's three in the afternoon." Matthew, from behind him, pulled away. "I was just doing a wellness check."

"Right." Arthur forced himself to stand, stretching a bit. "Well, anyways... I had the most peculiar dream."

"Really?" Matthew blinked a bit, curious. "What was it about?"

"Well, there was quite the colorful character, that's for sure."

there is no meme, draw a circle

I'm about to make good on an old ass promise.

Let's fucking go ✨

few rules before we get into this:

- Look up roller derby positions if you're confused, I promise it's not that hard to understand

- Consider this an au where the nations get put in a roller derby team... for some reason.

- I'm bad at coming up with roller derby names. Excuse the bad names. And get on with it.

- Nyotalia because roller derby is such a violently feminine thing

- am only gonna do the main group i consider immediately relevant for now but i'll add on later lmao.

America, AKA, Fried Freedom Fighter

Wanted to name herself something funny and this was the best she could come up with LMAO.

Based on the violently American concept of a fried oreo. but oreos wouldn't cut it. thus, this. Also, star themed attire no matter what.

Often plays the Pivot blocker. She will get penalized if he jams, so star passes are hell.

Canada, AKA Maple Skates

She was given this name by her teammates for sure.

She gets competitive as FUCK and will get penalized a shit ton, but she always thanks the people at the time out box for their hard work. She somehow always wears flannel.

Mostly a blocker, but will jam to get some shakes out. The shakes are real.

France, AKA Eiffel Power

Chose the name herself because she thought it sounded cool without leaning too far out of classy. Wears elegant ish things and elaborate makeup.

Lord, help you if you're trying to understand what she's saying during a jam. terrible communicator. on the other hand, she always lands apex jumps! gracefully at that

will not pass the star. just no. shes keeping that silly hat.

England, AKA Alice in Wounderland

It was either this name or Mary Choppins, and France told her that this was the more classy option. Not that class matters of course.

She puts her hair in braids and dyes them SO MANY COLORS its amazing i wish i could draw what my mind's eye says. very spiky and punk in style (well, not spiky, that could make gear penalties happen. studdy?)

Brace blocker, and she has trouble breathing when things get too crowded, but it's okay. she knows the team has her back :). (don't tell her i said that)

China, AKA Chi Blocker

In spite of this name, she is not often a blocker. lil zippy girl jams! /pos... but if she blocks, she does well enough

Joins England in the braids with colors club for a while, but she does red and gold. Also, she loves doing makeup with France.

fucking NYOOMS, even during downtime. She loves being active. Though she also complains about cramps the most. Hmm...

Russia, AKA Black Swan

She ABSOLUTELY was referencing the Black Swan in swan lake. dresses accordingly too. Goth girlie.

Out of everyone, she gets the most penalties. Usually forearms. Or high blocks (hitting people in the face). She's also known for having the only egregious penalty of the team, but denies that it ever happened.

Aside from that, she's an amazing player. In a vaguely friendly rivalry with FFF (America). also, she puts her hair in a low bun, and spends most of her time on her toe stops like they're pointe shoes.

N. Italy AKA Hasta La Pasta

COULD NOT resist the temptation. got the name idea from America. took it and ran.

Also in the braids club, but under the advice of Germany, only wears one so nothing bad happens. Other than that she wears a lot of fun color combinations. looks like a rainbow on wheels.

This poor girl cannot block for the life of her. well, she can, but she'll usually fall. Somehow, this ends up getting the other team penalties, so it's all good but she feels bad. besides that she's pretty fast.

Japan, AKA Killer Katana

Yet another victim of America's name choosing. She likes it though, it sounds fun.

Dresses plainly, but Italy can and will put her in fun makeup. There will be no lack of eyestrain.

In spite of her stature, she makes a good blocker. Known for her sprinting skills and offensive ability too. Can and will murder you (but also can and will apologize for it).

Germany, AKA Eisen Maiden

Was ALMOST a victim of America's names, but got the suggestion 'iron maiden' from England. Took it, made it her own, bam. Why is this her name? well, ask the ridiculous amounts of protective gear. She looks like she's dressed in armor.

Self-Proclaimed captain and rules lawyer. The only skater on the team to debate with a referee to date. That's a story for my ao3 drafts though!

Specializes in blocking, but is pretty well rounded. Makes sure everyone else is too. She usually leads warmups.

S. Italy AKA TomaTerror

How could she not reference tomatoes with Romano having a whole character song dedicated to the damn things? It's a reference to her face getting red in universe but come on.

Does not put up her hair. Dresses in bright colors, but like. menacingly.

She's almost as bad as her sister, but god damn it, if you piss her off you will forget what it feels like to have untorn hamstrings. Terrifying jammer, can't block for shit.

Prussia AKA RollerPaladin

She got the name from being assigned the archetype in everything possible. Just stuck roller on the front and made it so.

Joins England in the punk skater girl thing, but does not braid her hair. no, she puts it in a ponytail.

Blocker because when she tries to jam, she ends up falling on her ass and when she tries to pivot, she ends up getting the star pass (every damn time) and falling on her ass.

So who wants to see my interpretation of putting hetalia characters in roller derby

null element manipulation and harvest induction???

Click on it twice. These are your two super powers.

Hey it's me. I'm sure you already know what I'm going to ask.

GerEng...and for the prompt...I'm currently studying for midterms and burning out so something about studying/working and getting burnt out?

Hello omg 😳 Gladly!

Have a lil... softness. :)

"A Brief Recess"

Feat. The silly little guys i guess B)

It was a boring day. A day so normal that an immortal nation-personification-representative would never remember it under normal circumstances. Though, the assembly was a thing to remember.

That's what Arthur believed anyways. It was so incredibly boring that he began to watch his fellow "delegates" during this day's boring summit, watching their bored faces scrunch in disapproval. Though, when his eyes fell on a certain man, he felt the boredom replace itself with a new feeling. One he tried not to acknowledge.

Ludwig, normally the most alert of anyone, looked entirely disheveled. His eyes were halfway closed throughout the current speaker's remarks, and his pen was clicked lazily throughout the whole thing. Even his hair, normally slicked back, was messy and a bit unkempt. That little ballpoint pen might have been the only reason he was still awake. One had to wonder how he had come to this point, but the answer was obvious: the man was working himself to death.

This was unacceptable. Not because he wasn't being professional, but because the exhaustion was further progressed than it should ever be. It was unacceptable because it made Arthur worried. Too worried.

Ludwig even looked ill. He looked like he could collapse at any moment. The sight was so pitiful that Arthur had to pity him, indulging his caring heart.

He raised his placard, labeled "England," and coughed to get the speaker's attention.

"Motion to hold a brief recess, fifteen minutes."

"Herr Kirkland," The speaker, Roderich, began. "We're an hour out from the end of today's gathering. Can't it wait?"

"What of it? It's not like anyone's listening to you, you've been going on about your finances in so many directions that I can't think straight."

"... Does anyone second this?" The Austrian asked, annoyed.

A few placards were raised, further annoying him.

"Any opposed?" He hissed.

Ludwig was the only one to oppose, at which Arthur shot him a glare. Not of anger, but of disbelief.

"Seeing a majority of seconds, the motion is granted." Roderich scoffed as he announced it as the host of this day's events. "Take your fifteen minutes already." He seemed a bit salty.

At that, Arthur stood and went to Ludwig's side, sitting right next to him.

"What do you want, you wanted time to rest. Go take it..." The German was unusually quiet as he scolded the Englishman. He sounded almost like he was whining, as opposed to a usual demanding tone.

"That wasn't for me." Arthur started, equally quiet for his sake. "It was for you."

"What-?" A brow raised was all Ludwig could muster.

"I'm serious! Why are you so disheveled? You look like you've just crawled out of the fires of the underworld." He had a penchant for exaggerating, but this time, it was true.

"I might as well have, I've been working all week." He rolled his eyes, staring back at Arthur.

The moment they finally made eye contact, Ludwig felt himself melting. Not because he was upset, but because Arthur was. It was as if there was an underlying care in his scolding glare.

"Have you even eaten?" Arthur asked, prompted by the way Ludwig sunk into the table.

"You of all people should know we can survive without-"

"Immortality be damned, you need food! And what about water? Or a bath?"

"Um.." It was at that point that Ludwig finally crumpled a bit, falling more into the desk. "..no."

"Bloody hell- I'll have to do something about that, won't I?"

Ludwig tensed.

"Calm down, I'll take you somewhere for dinner. Tonight. Actually, right after the meeting ends."

"Are you... are you sure?" In spite of everything, Ludwig blushed a bit. This was an odd way to be asked out. Especially considering the situation.

"Positive. For now, though, I'm going to get you a water. Stay here and rest your eyes, alright?"

"Mhm..." He didn't hesitate to lay his head down on the desk. In fact, he could barely resist sleep. And so, as the world darkened around him, he let himself imagine being held in the arms of someone he'd been admiring for far too long. Someone with emerald green eyes he could lose himself entirely in.

He opted to blame his heart for making his head hurt, rather than the lack of hydration.

Arthur left hastily, running to the nearest vending machine he saw and putting in a bill. Once he had obtained the water, he returned to the conference room, only to see that Ludwig had fallen asleep before he could come back.

Poor dear.

Setting the bottle down by the placard, he took his place at the table once again. In spite of the recess' end, he couldn't keep his eyes off of Ludwig, as if hoping to will the man into rest. Gradually, he noticed himself getting a little too hot for the room, his face burning.

"What is wrong with me..?" He asked himself, accidentally out loud.

All eyes were on Arthur Kirkland in that moment. The subject of the room's curiosity went red in the face.

"Bugger off, would you?"

Except, they didn't. Not even when the meeting ended, and Arthur went quietly to Ludwig's side to wake him gently.

A few words were audible to anyone who listened:

"Come on, love. It's time to go."

"But-"

"No buts." Arthur lifted the taller man out of his seat on his shoulder with considerable effort. "Christ, you're heavy-"

"Oh, I can stand-" Ludwig held his own weight, despite wobbling a bit.

"No, it's fine. Feel free to lean on me, actually." Arthur held his hand as they walked outside, taking a moment every now and then to check on the taller.

Ludwig looked a little less exhausted, which was good. He slowly got into a rhythm with his steps, signifying a return to the waking world. Of course, when he almost walked out into traffic, Arthur had to grab him.

Neither minded, though. Bar the scary experience.

"You alright there?"

"Less tired now..." His dull eyes betrayed him, proving his answer to be a lie. "Can we just go back to the hotel? It's on the way."

"Of course, but I'm still buying you food."

"You don't have to, I can-"

"Shush." Arthur continued to lead him until the reached the building of their chosen hotel. It wasn't a difficult journey, after all.

Soon enough, Ludwig was on the couch in his room. He breathed deeply, trying to relax.

"There we go... Is there anything in particular you want?" Arthur put a blanket over him.

"Bread... That's all I could want right now..."

"I understand. I'll be back soon, alright?" Without thinking, Arthur put his hand underneath Ludwig's chin, effectively holding his gaze up.

Both men blushed, silently staring at each other for a solid minute.

"...what did you say again?"

"Just- Go to sleep. I won't be gone long." Arthur tore himself away, headed for the door with a huff.

Ludwig put his own hand where Arthur's was now missing, smiling to himself. "Don't, uh... don't forget the key."

"What do you take me for? As a gentleman, it's my duty to remember such things. And as an ill man, it's your duty to rest."

"I'm not ill-"

"You fit the bill, now lie down already."

With a sad face, Ludwig followed the order, watching the Englishman leave.

Arthur left, still red in the face and struggling to make his heart stop racing. He thought back on his decision to force the assembly to have a recess, reminding himself of one thing: it was just a kind gesture.

Right?

It may not have been something Ludwig would have asked for, but it was something he needed.

Arthur didn't want to admit that he cared, but after his actions today, he may be forced to. It wasn't like he was trying to care, it just happened. "Curses..." was all he could say in response to his heart's foolish insistence upon making him blush for that self-destructive fool.

He didn't realize that he'd been distracted, thinking about Ludwig, until he was back at the doors of the hotel with some groceries in hand. Once the door was unlocked, he was brought back to reality, because reality was far more necessary to think about than his own heart.

Ludwig woke at the sound of the hotel door opening, blinking a bit. "Oh, it's you... Where am I?" He looked confused, but not scared.

Arthur chuckled. "You're in a hotel, and I'm back with bread."

"Oh, good... I'm hungry."

"Good, because that's the whole reason I went out." He smirked and set the bag on the counter. "How does sourdough sound?"

"Good... Don't try to toast it, though." Ludwig tried to stand.

"Don't you dare try to stand, you're supposed to be resting."

"Mm... Wait, but-"

"No sir. Don't you dare." He gave Ludwig a look.

The man was back on the couch in mere seconds.

"Good. Now don't you worry about a thing." Arthur walked back to the room, a few slices of bread on the plate, along with some butter. He sat down next to Ludwig, unintentionally curling up next to him.

"Is there a reason you're...?" The German put an arm around him nonetheless.

"No... But if it gets you to rest, I don't mind it." There were more reasons than that, but excuses were a comfort he tried to enjoy.

"Well, it's okay... I like it..." Ludwig started to drift off again, holding Arthur to his chest.

"I like it too." Arthur muttered. He let himself be held, relaxing as well.

Through the night, the pair cuddled each other. They slept peacefully, not even disturbed by each other's warmth. The soft rise and fall of each chest lulled them both into true rest.

The day had been boring, sure, but the night was gentle enough to remember.