American/English
Sorry, I had to do it...I really can't believe I just wrote this. Obviously, this is a response to "Cry Havoc, and Let Slip the U's of War"
Title: The Valiant Never Taste of U's but Once
Rating: R
Warning: Imagined noncon, incest, mutilation and revenge for previous revenge...angst, however, is not imagined
Word Count: ~ 340
Pairing: American/English
The Valiant Never Taste of U’s but Once
American hated nothing more than losing, and the thought of losing to English made him feel as though he were being slowly ground into incoherence, trapped inside an automated translator. He could not remember a time when he did not exist for the purpose of shocking her, shaming her, dominating her. He conducted a ginger inspection of the damage, cringing as he encountered the crimson ink, still drying on his smarting words. He made the error of trying to dig out the piercing tip of a U, and he began to stutter and babble helplessly. But there would be no pathetic cry on Mum’s shoulder for him. After all, this was the language that was at his hottest when he was being spoken in a drawl around half chewed hamburger... No, he would not be reduced to a pile of sniveling weasel words. He was more than a match for her--her enthusiastic sampling of gratuitous letters certainly hadn’t done much for her figures of speech, while his body was a study in taut, potent diction. She had just caught him with his T’s uncrossed, that was all. Now was the time for his revenge. American bit down hard on his already clipped words in grim concentration. He would rip the “me” off the end of programme with the sound of tearing lace, exulting as her fastidiously accented phonemes dissolved into screams capable of erasing thousands of years of linguistic evolution. He would pin her E’s savagely behind her R’s and then pound at her soft vowels, flattening them with unrelenting savagery until he had claimed them for his own. And then, he would pause only for a single breath before pushing his commas inside her quotation marks until she begged him to keep them there. Or perhaps he would savagely bite the “que” off of cheque and drive in his hard “ck.” It would be a difficult decision. And of course, there were still the Z’s. Yes, the war had only just begun.