#mathieu & alfred // brothers earth and sky

[gremlins-hotel]

this is the na bros to me

[grem-archive]

All reason flies out of the window when Matt or Al look to each other, nod, and say, “Trust, trust. It’s for the bit.” Something malicious is brewing and you’d best get out of their way.

The only thing worse is if they say “Bet.”

[gremlins-hotel]

I think Al would prefer working with slightly older kids (10-11, as you said). That’s not to say he couldn’t work with younger kiddos, I think that’s just what he prefers. But I’m also biased because I think this guy is wonderful with kids, yet takes far less bs from adults. Also Matt is 100% roped into shenanigans and he is also unaware that said insanity is shown to children. Parents at this point should simply not question his methods—

okay but consider...consider,,, he teaches all the kiddos basic bat tricks when coaching baseball/softball. like as a reward for a good practice.

abso-fucking-lutely

I also can see Al really being into like basic magic and card tricks so like not only is he teaching bat tricks, he's just whipping out a deck of cards and going "Good game! wanna see something cool?" and blowing all of their little minds

[gremlins-hotel]

Listen I’m telling you guys “do it for the bit” is the sleeper agent activation phrase for both Matt and Al. They hear it and suddenly whatever mischief they were hesitant about is now a matter of do-or-die. Also “do it no balls” but it only works if they say it to each other

Single brain cell between the two of them and sometimes it belongs to neither of them

[gremlins-hotel]

is alfred native?? if yes do u have a specific tribe in mind for him? kinda a weird question. ig im kinda asking in human au contexts

- a curious little indigenous american <3

I see both the North American brothers as mixed ethnicity. Part of that is indigenous! But I’m afraid I have to disappoint you tonight in saying that I do not have a specific tribe in mind. I have a vague couple of ideas, but nothing that I feel knowledgeable nor confident enough to make a definitive say on. However, feel free to project onto my Al or my Mattie, I truly do not mind. I love seeing how others view and interpret my characters!

[grem-archive]

And yes!! I believe in chunky NA Bros supremacy. My mind is made. Especially in winter - these two big bears gotta hibernate. Lazy Boy winter chonk. Fight me rn.

[gremlins-hotel]

Coming at you live from the world’s most disjointed post-work nap to say Alfred would use DigBar songs as ringtones as a joke, forget he did this, and then get a call where it starts blasting at max volume. The kicker is it’s Mattie that remembers and has called Alfred as a belligerent act of sibling warfare.

[gremlins-hotel]

✈︎ grem/gremlin

✈︎ 21+

✈︎ they/he

✈︎ archaeology major! minor is us history.

✈︎ commission status: open

✈︎ my shit: a-flying-fortress | archaeologyfjones (ask blog) | twitter

my old shit: close-air-support (old main) | grem-archive (hetalia) | archaeojones (original ask blog)

✈︎ tag guide: 

misc: callsign gremlin checking in | gremlin shitpost | gremlin tankposting | gremlin’s things with wings | mooom! gremlin’s archaeologyposting again!

from the desk: alpha romeo tango | papa echo november

headcanon tags: mechanics of nations // eldritch abominations | alfred f. jones // daring to fly | mathieu williams // bear with me | mathieu & alfred // brothers earth and sky | arthur kirkland // salt wind and green garden | arthur & alfred // a king and his crown | arthur & mathieu // anchor spares none | ace family // new worlds divided | romano de cesare // luctor et emergo | ivan braginsky // Не остаться в этой траве | ludwig beilschmidt // meine Stärken und meine Schwächen

ship tags: romerica // spaghetti western | rusame // stardust on our boots | gerame // mach speed meta

my aus: sunfall // the wayward soldier | beartalia // hibernation or bust | harpytalia // world on the wing | unbound // a western saga | lemon sharks // friendly seas | ersatz // dark side of the moon

[grem-archive]

I love the skin tones you give the brothers. It very matches my own headcanon for their skin color. For me, it's because I like to think they're part indigenous.

I have no idea if that's your intention or if you even like that idea or not, but I really love the darker skin tones is all.

If there’s a fight to be had as a result of my following words, I want all potential ops to know that my apartment is rigged like a Rust shotgun trap and that I am indeed insane.

Yes! It actually is my intention. Indigenous/mixed race. I’m always afraid to say it because of flak I’ve seen other creators receive for sharing that same headcanon in the past, but I will stick to my guns. It is absolutely my intention, because I cannot see the North American brothers in any other way. I’ve had a lot of inspirations for drawing them this way, too, and it feels right - if that makes sense.

Also even in this world occupied by supernatural, fucky, immortal eldritch abominations, I do not fuck with violet eyes. So I’m sorry if y’all see me give other colors to characters with violet eyes, such as me giving Mathieu (darker) blue eyes than Alfred. I expect y’all’s declarations of war in the morning.

I think Nations occupy a very strange place within their own societies. Do they represent the normal citizenry? The government? All of it? None of it? Only their landmass? What makes them them? What determines their appearance?

Personally I don’t think any of them have parents in the traditional, true sense. So genetics becomes almost a moot point. Everything with them is going to be an instinct or learned behavior from someone, somewhere. But are they dirt babies, popping out of the soil like daisies? What makes one appear? We’ve obviously seen that they at least understand the concept of siblings, since there are many sibling pairs or groups within canon. They understand the concept of a family in general, even if for the most part they form highly dysfunctional ones in regard to one another. I have a lot of thoughts on this but very few answers.

And I understand my depictions of the boys may not be perfect, but I am always open to suggestions. I’ve been playing with my color palette for them both for a while now, which you might be able to notice if you scroll through some of my older art. So I’m glad at least one person can enjoy them!

[gremlins-hotel]

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CnkDx-nKr2V/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y= i have no idea if this will work as a link but its urgent that you see this bc it is so aggressively al and matt

ah! skijoring! yes. absolutely. i've sent videos like this to discord friends before and we all agree that alfred is the equestrian while mathieu is the skier. they kick ass hard. you see them pull up and hear boss music. final boss music. they might not always agree or get along, but rest assured the north american brothers can accomplish some shit when they get that ridiculously strong mind meld going.

they've also tried skijoring with a car in place of a horse. i'm convinced. i think these two immediately lose several brain cells in each other's presence and it only gets worse if they're bored (read: alfred lost the battle against the boredom demon once again).

[gremlins-hotel]

can we see alfred talking about anomolacaris sometime

If you mean on the archaeology blog I must disappoint. However, I think Mattie and Al are both paleo and space nerds, just in different ways. I would love to see them not shut up about the Cambrian or the dinosaurs, whatever else have you.

Fun Anomalocaris Fact: The type species, A. canadensis, was discovered in the Burgess Shale (Stephen Formation) of British Columbia. It is this species that most people tend to know.

[gremlins-hotel]

I thought youd like this! (I'm not the best with aviation history bear with me)

The idea that a lot of the older nations are sort of fearful of flying, of course this makes sense they've spent centuries if not millennia with their feet planted either firmly on the ground, or on the decks of a ship, and through history there have been sk mang botched attempts at flight, like that one guy who tried to fly from sterling castle and fell into a pile of pig shit which stopped him from dying. So ma h stupid attempts through the centuries and then suddenly in the 1900s planes are everywhere.

Monoplanes, biplanes, triplanes, I'd like to think that nations like scotland or prussia loved the mechanisms and ghe physics behind it but would rather die than get on a prototype, they've died in s lot if ways and they dont want to die falling from a massive fucking height, for them humans are destined for the ground, maybe the sea but definitely not the sky.

The way that nowadays even planes rattle and shake, you can hear the machinery and it puts them on edge

Then theres Alfred, and to a lesser extent Ludwig, Lydwig has been around mostly when planes existed, he has no need to fear as much as his brother bc he hasn't seen that many failed attempts and it seems like a good idea to fly and he is more than happy to test fly while Gilbert is shitting himself down on the ground. And Alfred's alfred he probably has tried to fly like a bird and fallen like a stone, does that stop him.

(Also unrelated Boeing 747s have stopped being made after like over 55 years of being made😔 I salute thee )

aaa this has given me many thoughts! i fear i can't put them all to words, though.

absolutely. i think many - if not most - of the older nations can at least appreciate the mechanics of flight, but to them, their feet belong on the soil, or perhaps upon the deck of a ship. and for most of their histories, both shared and individual, their fighting has always been done on the ground or at sea. the sky is a novel z-axis for the older nations that they probably don't mess with for the most part.

i've always loved the thought of ludwig basically being the trains, planes, and automobiles kid if that makes sense? aaa i know i never mention him here but i consider ludwig one of my top 5 favs, he used to be my #1 for a while. this boy grew up with a brother that wanted to be the best brother he could, and give ludwig the best. this boy grew up surrounded by technology so many of the other nations never had, including other younger nations such as mathieu or alfred. the thought of ludwig, while shy, being willing to put himself in the air because he loves machines and the art and science behind engineering, meanwhile gilbert is biting his nails to the quick.

and you probably already know my alfred thoughts. he was built for the stars and the sky. two feet off the ground is as good a home as any. there's a reason my tag for matt & al is "brothers earth and sky," one keeps them grounded whilst the other dreams too high. also, if you think about it, both alfred and ludwig have eagles as symbols (hush, i know the bundesadler of germany is heraldic and such). i can see them both having an appreciation for the sky.

[grem-archive]

Seeker

“And once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you would return.” – John Hermes Secondari, Saga of Western Man

Just a young man's passion for the sky and the stars. Fly onward, ever upward.

[view on ao3]

Liberating are the heavens.

And after all, why shouldn’t they be? For what, pray tell, is more freeing than the winds themselves. Vaulted ceilings of changing skies and constellations would live eternal as Alfred’s chapel, his choir the billowing gusts through leaves, his bell the pealing thunder of a spring storm, the very stars mere embellishments upon the walls. Untethered like a wisp of cirrus on a blue morning was where he aspired to be.

Dressed in his darkest clothes Alfred pressed against the wooden slats of the town’s houses. He ducked his head to keep his unnatural eyeshine out of sight from the night watch as one of them drew close, orange lanternlight bobbing steadily. The young boy tried to walk on his toes lest the clack of heel on stone gave him away. Alfred was determined to make it to the crest of hills outside the quiet town, far from tavern voices and revealing light. Releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d held; Alfred sprinted the moment the watchman disappeared around a street corner. Quicker he had always run when there was no sun, no eye of any divine to watch him. Further he ran from the warm lights of home and into the velvet embrace of night. Chilling breeze licked at the boy’s heels and appeared to propel him. He only stopped once he surmounted a grassy knoll, immediately letting himself fall back into the prickly green carpet below. Wide oceans met the dense ether above and Alfred smiled to himself. Pictures played out in the silver inkblots above better than any manuscript or chart could hope to achieve. Here he would stay until God’s judging rays turned that sacred blue into gray.

Empires rise and fall, such is the cycle of those fiercely burning suns as the Earth turns so. Humans come and go; such is the view of a creature often untouched by time. How quickly Alfred had tried to move from the shadow of those before him and form an empire of his own. Where better to start than his own open plains, he had decided among the voices of others. Young and boundless energy flowed just as waves of green prairie and amber wheat lulled like rhythmic seas. Glorious loneliness in the face of discovery. Glorious kinship in his only friend upon the ceaseless landscape. Free of eyes and voices altogether as he made rapid progress.

A horse was all Alfred needed. There was no rush here. Freely he flitted from frontier town to rolling hilltops upon wishful wings of his own feather and four sturdy legs of companionship. He would scale the cliffs and bathe in the creeks if he so pleased. Several times a day he would check the position of the sun as it manipulated his cool shadow. Only the sun had such a privilege. Cotton clouds streaked the safe blanket above his head and the boy, now barely a man, pressed onward. How Alfred had scoffed when last he’d talked with his brother. Mathieu was still under their father’s thumb. Alfred had begged – rather, demanded – that Mathieu come with him and escape since he was so seemingly bent against joining his brother in excellent independence. His brother had refused. No one ever gave Mathieu credit for being stubborn when it suited him. Well, it was Mathieu’s loss, Alfred thought as he watched the heavens morph in real-time. Dusty hills covered in scrub broke the horizon, framing a lone mesquite tree in relief upon a backdrop of soft lavender and orange sky. Pink limned long clouds, outstretched fingers over the landscape. The only hand Alfred cared to hold. The first glimmers of early evening stars were the only audience the rowdy teen cared to entertain, for the moon was gone, and would be for two days. Whooping and spurring his horse into motion down across the sparse scrub, Alfred performed for the theater above him without reservation.

Flight, oh, wondrous flight. To leave the ground and soar. Had Alfred not dreamt of flight since childhood? Hours he had spent observing birds in their twists and spirals, butterflies in graceful meandering, and the sharp snaps of the rare bat to his home. Imagining the world buoyed up by wings of his own fed him like no other. If Icarus had flown too close to the sun, well, Alfred would show him how it should be done. To float, to fly, to fall. And how reluctantly would Alfred remember the three words Arthur had impressed upon him for years: onward, ever upward. He would show them and make those words his. Onward, ever upward. That was how it had been. That was how it must be.

Alfred’s lungs stung with cold air. He would not trade this feeling for all the warmest summers his home had to offer. The muffled sound of the engine in front of him, the whirring of a propeller, the glare of bright light against his canopy. Music, sweet music. Loosing a laugh of pure joy into the tight space he only pushed his aircraft further, harder, higher. Resistance came as the plane could no longer climb, a weightless sensation stalling Alfred in the endless stratosphere. He tipped the control stick and hung there, waiting for gravity to enact her oppressive law upon his being. Like clockwork she came for them both and Alfred kicked his aircraft into a controlled spiral. White light flared off his wings as he spun back toward Earth. Slowly the duo turned their noses down. Gloved hands perilously left the joystick to pet the marvel of engineering that the young man controlled. His protective glasses swirled with ribbons of blue and white, pure as a spring and real as his own flesh. This was where he belonged. Alfred’s heart shrieked, racing as he regained control of his trajectory and watched the solid ground speed toward him. Pulling hard on the stick, he once again felt a moment of weightless bliss when the plane around him strained against momentum and pitched skyward once more. Though his energy was stretched, he brought his steadfast steed into a wide barrel roll before straightening out low. Euphoria bloomed through the young man’s body and only then did he perceive the harsh reprimand coming through his radio. Alfred didn’t care, he only wanted more.

Humanity soon sought ever higher reaches and Alfred lived for it. No longer could mere flight satisfy the curiosity of hundreds, thousands, millions. Longing for the celestial had never left any of them. How often Alfred had seen stories of the sidereal, the yearning for things beyond reach. That yearning was one of his own. Onward, ever upward, past the clouds, the atmosphere, and even the Earth herself. Curiosity drove him like incessant spirits. What more was out there? And who could stop him if he tried to jump for it? Why wouldn’t anyone want to see it?

Tears had welled in the man’s eyes the first time he saw the Earth from three hundred kilometers up. Alfred would never admit it, but he had cried at seeing their patchwork marble from so far away and looking so uncharacteristically peaceful. That NASA had selected him for the astronaut candidate program was already a miracle for him. The fact that he had passed to be allowed onboard Columbia for this mission, STS-55 or D-2, was downright mystical. Seven other crew members sat aboard the Space Shuttle, two of them German astronauts from the ESA. Alfred’s seat was mid-deck beside them. Their goal was to reach Spacelab for experiments and – what Alfred was even more excited for – the testing of the SAREX II radio system. Average civilians would be allowed to speak to them from miles away as they touched the stars. Experiments were cool and all – and the American was riding high on the thrill of anticipation and discovery, there was no mistake of that – but knowing that he could speak to someone from the edge of the vast universe might just cause him to burst. Truly weightless, what a feeling! Seeing a storm swirl above the Earth with such a view compared to nothing else. Coming back to land had saddened Alfred more than he wanted to let show. The things he would do to go back again.

 Liberating are the heavens. Alfred had experienced them firsthand. And why shouldn’t they be? Being alone in the sky was more freeing than anything he’d felt before. The space to be himself without thought, to become lost in too much thought, and the space to simply see unbidden, with no judgment or nattering voices that weren’t his own. He had run past the winds, flown higher than the thunder, and seen the stars with his own eyes. Justified was he in believing in their unchained opportunity. And dare he would fly ever higher.

[grem-archive]

✈ name | grem/gremlin

✈ pronouns | any

✈ age | 21

✈ twitter || spicy twitter || instagram || archaeology f. jones askblog

✈ a rather scatterbrained archaeology major (broad focus), minoring in early u.s. history. used to be an animation & concept art major.

✈ mostly into hetalia right now, but a fan of many other things! favorite character: alfred f. jones (i'm going to smooch punch him). shy with writing, but i often make headcanons regarding early america. maybe someday i'll share my writing...but for now, enjoy my art!

✈ other interests | military technology (aviation, armor), cars, hiking, music, collecting shiny bits and bobs, cosplay, uhhh...

✈ tag guide |||

art: alpha romeo tango | writing: papa echo november | askbox: callsign gremlin checking in

meme posts: gremlin shitpost | miltech/history: gremlin military history

alfred hcs: alfred f jones // daring to fly | mathieu hcs: mathieu williams // brave wild winter | na bros: mathieu & alfred // brothers earth and sky | romano hcs: romano de cesare // luctor et emergo

nation hcs: nation lore // 'normal' my ass!

ship tags || romerica: alfred & romano // spaghetti western

--- ✈ ✈ ✈ ---

p.s., hey gremlin, what in god's name is your username about? that's easy! my great-grandfather flew b-17 flying fortresses in wwii over europe. the name of his plane - which he shared with more than one crew - was "the gremlin's hotel." i never got to know him, but i have been told throughout my life by family that i'm a lot like him. my way of knowing him was through learning about old planes. over the years i've just slowly adopted "the gremlin's hotel" as a name i use for everything because c'mon, it's a pretty sick name.

[gremlins-hotel]

hear me out: chaotic neutral/chaotic good alfred f. jones.

but yeah it's honestly a lot of working with the parents. i think he's also not necessarily afraid to pull punches with the kids too if they need it. if that makes sense? like he's their big friend but they'll listen when he gets serious. and also he understands kids are often smarter than they look.

also if this is a scout leader jones situation, sure, he's chaotic and can have fun, but you also know he certainly can rope in a bunch of excited kiddos.

also a matt & al that both love outdoors shit are my favorite versions of them. but i am biased. my secret little au where they're both park rangers. for fun. judge me if you must.

okay but consider...consider,,, he teaches all the kiddos basic bat tricks when coaching baseball/softball. like as a reward for a good practice.

abso-fucking-lutely

I also can see Al really being into like basic magic and card tricks so like not only is he teaching bat tricks, he's just whipping out a deck of cards and going "Good game! wanna see something cool?" and blowing all of their little minds