#「⸙」 OC: Morocco

[canadaswife]

MY MOROCCO OC!! HETALIA MOROCCO!! Amira is so silly!!!!!

[ohhnorr]

Maghrebi redesigns of Hatsune Miku, Gaara, Robin, Law

[black-ak9]

I have to practice all the bat styles, they are so cute but complex lol

Since it is a community post, I couldn't reblog it, however there is the link, credits to the author of the original post 🦇 ❤️

[ranaissingle]

Whispers and Melodies

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: She has heard a deep melodic voice speaking to her from a far away place for decades. Anything from snippets of a longer conversation to roars that shook the very earth she walked on.

Rating: T (for now)

Pairing: Rhysand x Reader

A cup of tea sat cooling on the window sill of a small cottage on the outskirts of the Day Court. The quaint home overlooked a large river delta with roiling waters whose waves flowed into an ocean only a stone's throw away. Inside the cottage sat a girl gazing into the night sky while she forgot all of the day's troubles. 

The healer had spent the entire day tending to patients from the village near her cottage. It was a quaint town whose community was close-knit and small. It had taken the townspeople a while to grow accustomed to her but as the years had come and gone, they had opened up to each other. Her skills as a healer also aided in this endeavor. But despite how much she enjoyed her dealings with the townspeople, her favorite part of her job was the research that it allowed. At the end of a hard day of treating her patients, she could lock herself up in her office and lose herself in the formulas and ratios she tested in her compounds. 

Y/N padded over to her small kitchen, mug in hand, and placed it into her sink before walking toward her research room and locking the door behind her.

She always thought of her research room as a safe haven. The vials full of various substances that she had been testing littered her desk along with her carefully taken notes about the contents and phase changes of each substance on her log book. Her most recent project had been to synthesize some type of blood clotting or replenishing potion that would allow her to administer it to a patient who was more likely to die of blood loss before she even had the chance to solve any of their injuries. A potion like this would allow her ample time to stitch up any wound or brew some other cure for poisons and the like. 

Her current issue consisted of not being able to stabilize the potion for long-term storage. The fennel root and crushed carrowfish shell she’d added seemed to be slowly decomposing each other which made the potion essentially useless after more than 4 days of storage. The trials she was running right now attempted to add some honey which slowed the reaction process as well as introduced some antimicrobial properties to the potion. 

Y/N quickly jotted down the physical changes in appearance and consistency of each of the test tubes with varying amounts of honey. Each testing glass contained more honey than the last. Whichever combination yielded the best preservation and overall effectiveness is the ratio that she would begin perfecting. 

Y/N stayed in her laboratory until she felt her eyes begin to strain and her feet start to ache. She carefully placed all of her measuring tools and weights back onto her working table before she exited the room and made her way to the front door of her cottage. She undid all 3 locks and tugged the large oak door open with both her hands. 

In the distance, she saw a figure. A male it seemed; lying on the ground as the ocean lapped at his skin and crusted it in dried salt. The setting sun gleamed against him and warmed his pale skin in a sheen of gold that she thought suited him much more than the sickly pallor he seemed to have. Most people tended to steer clear of her section of the beach out of some deeply engrained paranoia of outsiders. But this male seemed to have missed that particular message.

Rhysand had known he had been fooled the moment he stepped into the ballroom on that fateful day. Amaranth had promised a ball in celebration of the many alliances she had made as well as an apology to those she had wronged. Rhysand had gone to the ball purely for formalities' sake. He had always loathed these types of false pretenses that the upper echelon of fae had always insisted on perpetuating. Nonetheless, he had dragged himself out of his court that afternoon and appeared at this ball. His own cowardice to refuse Amarantha’s invitation had resulted in 50 years of extortion, rape, and violence that despite his centuries of experience, he could not seem to shake the black cloud that it had cast over him. 

Feyre being his mate was not something he had seen coming nor was it something he wanted. Tamlin would treat her well, she cared for all of his people and he would care for Feyre Rhys was sure. Despite his freedom, Rhysand could not bring himself to go to his home in Velaris. His family was likely waiting for him to return but they would all know exactly what had happened to him as soon as he stepped in the door. He did not wish to deal with their horrified faces and pitying looks once they found out. So instead, he wandered. 

He wandered around lands both Night Court and Day. He walked and flew so far that he ended up somewhere on a coastline. Rhys has no idea where he had landed but he didn't seem to care that he was likely lost. So as the sun set, he continued a slow walk along the cliffside coast and eventually down onto the sandy beaches. The sun sunk further into the horizon leaving only the gleaming light of a cottage in the far-off distance. As Rhys drew closer, he noticed a crop garden with some vegetables and herbs growing on the plot off to the side of the house and a water well located up a hill. Rhysand was tired. He was tired of walking, of flying, of breathing even. He just wanted to rest. He wanted to sleep on a soft bed and not have to think about anything at all, not be worried that one wrong move would result in the death of everyone he had ever loved. So he made his way closer to the cottage before sitting on the wet sand closest to the water and stretching out his long legs. The water lapped at his feet and calves, almost as if it was slowly pulling away all the tension that wound itself in his legs. He stared out at the ocean for what seemed like an eternity. Rhysand got lost in the repetitive movements of the water and the slowly setting sun in the distance casting beautiful colors on the waters and sand. 

When he eventually woke up from what felt like an eternity of slumber, he was not nestled in the sand as he had expected. Instead, he was cushioned underneath with quilts and pillows, and on top of him lay thick blankets to combat the morning chill that often accompanied this time of the year. The room itself looked lived in, to say the least. Canvas’ and embroidery projects were pinned to the wall in various positions. Everything from people to landscaping were inscribed into the wall. Pages that appeared to be ripped out of books with certain lines underlined also adorned the cedarwood walls. The entire room smelled of something woody and calm that Rhysand couldn't quite a place. He stretched up from his lying position and slowly removed the layers of quilts and blankets from him. His legs felt sore and ached from the hours of walking he had done the day before. He tried to stretch his wing muscles but they also ached from their overuse. He hadn't flown in decades, yet he had taken to the sky’s as soon as he could as if he had never left the great blue expanse. He now felt his lack of practice as he tried to rotate his shoulders and ease the aches that had rooted themselves in his back. 

A shuffle from outside the door had Rhysand snapping his neck towards the door. He slowly lifted himself off the bed, careful to make sure none of the wooden beams snapped. He paced towards the door and stuck his ear against the wood grain to listen for any further movements. He was listening to the slicing of metal that would indicate a weapon the characteristic heavy footfalls that usually indicated a warrior of some capacity. Instead, he heard sharp cutting noises blunted by a wooden board, the shuffle of lithe feet, and the soft humming of a female. 

Hello everyone! It has been too long! So many things have happened in the last months and I can't wait to get back into the groove of posting multiple-part stories.

[artofmintea]

assegas Ameggaz!

Happy amazigh new year 🎇✨

feat:

(top) Algeria in clothing of ghardaia (Mozabite Mlehfa)

(bottom left) Tunsia in Djerba clothes (Houli)

(bottom right) Morocco in Souss clothing (Chleuh)

[sarai-the-furry]

funny thing i did acting like she wont bonk dr morocco to the shadow realm silverfrost wielding the Chaos Maul from Dragon Adventures on roblox og image under the cut

yes i made silverfrost on a casirus took fucking FOREVER

[lavatichellborn]

Well here’s another

[kuehmiyue]

my first attempt at ryoko kui inspired busts [repost from my old acc]

[umahumahumah]

How about Kenya?

Don't worry guys I haven't forgotten about this its been in the back of my head the entire time </3 i decided to draw them in wwii uniforms this time for a change of pace, but maybe ill draw them in their traditional clothes some other time

first off, kenya!!! shes actually already a canon character but shes barely in hetalia. forever cursed to be a gakuen hetalia chibi head... sigh...

even though nothing hints to this in her appearance in gakuen hetalia, i think she would have a kind of tomboyish and energetic personality! like the girl-next-door type! she's also the first person to ask seychelles a question in the gakuen hetalia demo, which makes me think shes a huge extrovert.

sometimes i wonder if she was part of the group of countries who laughed at seychelles' coat of arms. in my heart, i wanna believe she didnt... but um she probably did. bruh who knows the demo is over a decade old now himas not gonna confirm it. please come back to hetalia, kenya. i need you.

next is malta! his appearance is a little scuffed here because he was going through it in wwii, but he's doing way better in present day

obviously he was influenced by italy so he naturally gets an italian curl. i like to think that he looked up to romano when he was younger and started subconciously taking after him. i was debating whether i should give him thick eyebrows or not, but i think france's occupation cancels it out even if it was a really short time.

in present day i think he cares a lot about his architecture and tourism. i think he'd also be a bit of a womanizer due to the italies' influence on him but he definitely has a lot more decency compared to them. or maybe hes just toos hy to talk to them, that would be cute lol

last is morocco! she was kind of fun to design and i was thinking about her personality throughout while drawing her. i like to think that she is pretty intelligent and is capable of doing a lot of stuff... but she'd rather go smoke weed and have parties, so she feigns ignorance to get out of her responsibilities. on top of that, because of france, she is a huge romantic and can make people swoon for her with just one word

i have no idea if hima would ever make a character like this since his girl characters mostly appeal to cuteness rather than uhh sultriness? but i think moroccos laziness has a cute appeal if you squint hard enough. if he does make a girl character like this i think she'd be some sort of bait and switch or something

also here are some bonus chibis of characters i already designed, mexico and uzbekistan!

i decided to redraw mexico because i dont think i did mexico justice having his back away from the camera. come to think of it maybe i should have drawn him in the mexican revolution uniform but there was already a pattern of wwii going on anyways...

uzbekistan is my favorite design from this series, which is why i decided to draw him again. tbh i think his first appearance didnt seem to come across as sandcat-like, so i decided to change his eyes a little bit, but overall he stayed the same. i wanted to change his pupils to dots, like germany, but it made him look too different

[gelu-the-babosa-multiversal]

Rough OC concepts for @llamawrites and @one-of-moroccos-apprentices

The lost/forgotten siblings of Madeline and Morocco.

Krystal Pynch (She/Her) and Nikoca Morocco (They/He) 😋. One is working as an art teacher being ignored by her twin sister while the other one is trapped in time and space left forgotten by their baby brother.

Krystal will take care of Priss as her new good guardian while Morocco (remembering that Nikola exists) will save Nikola somehow...

[tee-makoberryx3]

Hazard x Morocco

[canadaswife]

More Canmira art! By: @brokakoschi in instagram!!

MY HETALIA YUMESHIP YAYAY!!!

[ohhnorr]

Atay with family 🩵

Buy the piece:

[erzmaple]

moroccan amazigh + some cats

[artofmintea]

Girls' dinner!

The maghreb getting together for a special occasion! Algeria, Morocco and Tunisia got kicked out of the AFCON so for now they're chilling

Have from left to right: Morocco in a djellaba Algeria in a Frimla + Gandoura

Tunisia in a Jebba + Framla

Libya wearing a Rda

[recoepic]

Morocco in my cb universe has 3 phases:

1. The normal phase is within power, the mayority of the time on this phase he's sleeping

2. If you piss him off he enter to this phase, he's very powerfull

3. If you kill him he enter to this phase, the infernal phase is very powerfull, but he is very insane of kill everyone