transemacabre: (Rose Red)
[personal profile] transemacabre
I realized I never posted these here, even though I wrote them years ago!

Author: Yours truly.
Characters: America. No pairings.
Genre: Angst (is environmental horror a genre?)
Rating: M for Mature, for possibly disturbing implications and imagery. No violence, adult language, or sexual content.
Warnings: Dark themes, psychological torment, possible eating disorder (warning to be on the safe side). This story was written without political agenda, although I could see how it might be viewed otherwise, and it is not a reflection of my own thoughts or feelings or criticism of any kind. Sometimes art is just art.
Summary: Written for the kink meme; this version is somewhat edited and cleaned up. America is aware of his flaws and the mistakes he has made, but is powerless to stop himself.



America would stop if he could.

It is not that he is by nature cruel; he would rather protect, shelter, or defend. He is still an artless boy who longs to be everyone's best friend.

But the hunger -- it is the hunger of one of his rampaging forest fires, devouring all in its path -- his hunger is all-consuming. He can split the atom but he cannot stop himself.

His fields bear and bear, and it is not enough. The earth, a good mother, offers him her bounty. He peels back her mountaintops and gorges on her veins of coal. His cities never sleep, can never sleep, kept alight by pumping pistons and roaring dams.

If it is not the hunger, it is the thirst. Thirst for blood, for power, for oil. His tongue swells until it fills his entire mouth, and his heartbeat flutters, and then he must go and take and take and take. The oil is running out, they tell him. How did he ever live without it. How can he live without it.

America does not wish to hurt the others -- he cannot even find them on the map most of the time, why would he want them dead? Truly, he wishes to save them from themselves. But when he goes to kiss them, somehow he ends up with their bodies in his jaws, their marrow already flowing down his throat. He fattens them on a steady diet of media, of Hollywood, of peace through superior firepower. He whittles them away to their brittle bones.

Stop, they cry out, don't you see, you are killing us. You are eating us alive.

America thinks that the reason that he and Russia understand one another -- the reason they hate each other -- is because they each recognize the predator in the other. America eyes Russia from across the room, and he knows that one day, it will come down to just them.

America isn't afraid. He licks his lips. He is all appetite.


This next one is a little hard to classify because it's not exactly fanfic, but not quite a fan poem or filk, either. Think of it as the sort of thing England might've made Colonial America recite to learn his letters.

Title: Alphabet
Characters: England, Colonial America
Rating: T for Teen
Warning: Dark imagery and disturbing themes presented in a whimsical manner



Now listen, young master Jones, and pay attention! Sit up straight! Be quiet! This is very important.

A is for Africa, from which we fetch our slaves.
B is for the Bahamas, where they break their backs.
C is for colonies, mine not yours.
D is for Drake, who crushed the Armada.
E is for Empire, the grandest on earth.
F is for fortune in spices and gold.
G is for glory for the Empire.
H is for honor you will bring me.
I is for India, the jewel in my crown.
J is for justice, mine to bestow.
K is for the king, long may he reign.
L is for lesson, which you will learn well.
M is for mastery, remember to whom you belong.
N is for nutmeg, a spice from abroad.
O is for oceans, of which I am master.
P is for place, always be mindful of yours.
Q is for queens, bringer of dowries.
R is for races of brown and yellow.
S is for strength to crush our enemies.
T is for taxes to fill my coffers.
U is for Union Flag, which will fly forever.
V is for victory over all others.
W is for whip, scourge of all slaves.
X is for xenium, a gift for ambassadors and diplomats.
Y is for years, 12 months each for conquest.
Z is for zenith, the peak of my power.
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