Hetalia kink meme part 21
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hetalia kink meme
part 21
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She has always felt American, there was no denying that. It was instilled in her at an early age, learning to stand and say the pledge of allegiance every day, and became even more intense as she grew up in a post-9/11 world (she remembers learning about the towers and being confused, not really understanding what it meant). And she identifies with being Black, of course (but that is an entirely different and complex issue), but she has no other nationalities to compete with her love for her country.
Her ancestors arrived on shore a long time ago and they were faceless, nameless, and unrecorded. It bothers her slightly that she can’t point out any definite border on a map and say “My people are from here” (mostly when her friends proudly proclaim that they are part German, English, Italian, Portuguese, whatever), but she has America and that will have to be enough.
The first and only time she ever met her country was in Washington D.C. of all places. She was on a class fieldtrip, seventh grade, and strayed away from her group to stand on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. Another man is standing there, strangely not taking pictures of the cherry blossoms, the reflecting pool, or Lincoln behind them. He has a camera in his hands, but stands more pensive than anything.
He is handsome, blonde, and young enough that it’s strange that he looks so serious. When he catches her looking, he breaks into grin that seems to compete with the sun.
“Hello,” he greets cheerfully, and doesn’t seem to notice that she seems slightly hesitant about a stranger talking to her. There’s something about him though that’s magnetic and warm, so she nods back, and lifts her camera to get a shot of the pool.
“Beautiful day we’re having here! Great for picture taking,” he says, but still doesn’t lift his camera. She doesn’t respond, still shy by nature.
“It was really hot, that day, you know?” He continues in his cheerful tone, not seeming to notice her lack of conversation or confusion.
“I’m sure the people standing in the pool that day felt pretty lucky, haha. Well, I mean I’m sure everybody felt pretty lucky that day, to be there.”
She finally understands what he’s talking about and takes a deep breath. She of course understands the implications of where she is standing, that’s partially why she chose to stand there.
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“My…uh, my dad participated in the protests. He was hit by policemen,” she says quietly, not sure why she’s sharing this information with this man. In any event, he doesn’t seem surprised. In fact, he just smiles and it makes her stomach feel like jelly.
“That’s something to be really proud of, you know?”
She’s about to say something like, of course I’m proud of my dad, but he interrupts her,
“Not just the protesting thing, which is great, but the struggle of it all. Never stopping until something is right. Holding onto what you have until you can make it better. Use that to make you stronger.”
For some reason, she gets the feeling that he isn’t talking about her dad anymore, looks at him, and feels there’s something of great magnitude about him. The blue of his eyes reminds her of the blue of the sky above her (awful, country, beautiful,) home county and she has no idea why it possibly would. He pauses for a moment and then breaks into laughter as though he sensed her uneasiness.
“Oh, here I am, being crazy again!” But before she can ask him anything, he snaps a quick picture without really looking and walks down the steps, weaving between the tourists. The conversation is burned into her memory and it isn’t until many years later that she finally understands what he meant.
She’s not just American, but that’s kind of the point; nobody was. Even if she can’t point to a line on a map, there is nothing to be ashamed about. Her people have a history, and as long as she keeps moving forward, she will be continuing to live the dream.
Freaking character limits!
So rambling notes... Most of this is true facts with America thrown in the center there. I did go on a fieldtrip in the seventh grade to DC and I did stand where Martin Luther King Jr. stood at the Lincoln Memorial with a friend (and almost got left because of it lol). My dad participated in the Civil Rights protests and was hit by the police while marching.
I think this was mostly therapeutic for me, haha. Sorry again for any fail/not following prompt expectations.
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My only gripe is I wish it was a longer fill because I enjoyed it a lot. I'm impressed with anon's ability to keep America in character AND make him sort of the mellow-wise-nation. I also liked his inconspicuousness.
I don't think you deviated from the prompt, just used a cool and interesting interpretation of it.
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