The American Dream: oneshots

Dark Path (M)

This story was promised a while ago. This is a what-if short story from a certain war between two Superpowers.

WARNING: this will contain sexual themes, abuse, trauma, self-harm, and applied sexual assault. If you can not handle this, please skip this short story.

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She had lost.

America had actually lost. She had lost to Soviet. All the work she did for forty-four years...down the drain. He had made it to the moon first. He got the first people and animals in space. He had the better nukes and allies. He did it all. He won. And she had lost.

"Mon chéri. It's alright. It's just a war. You can just walk away now." Her mother said as she pulled America in a hug. Oh, how little did she know.

"I see you still kept your mouth shut. Tell me. Would your parents accept this deal you made?" Soviet said, smirking. Both her father and mother looked at her and she could swear that she couldn't breathe.

"What deal? What did you do?!" Her father yelled. America didn't respond. Instead, she just silently started crying. Why didn't she just said yes?! "America!"

"She promised to be my wife." The moment those words left Soviet's mouth, all hell broke loose. Her father was screaming at Soviet for doing this to his daughter while her mother hugged her tighter, waterfalls forming on her face.

"I forbid you! You will not take my daughter!" Soviet leaned down to her father's eye level, his single icy blue eye piercing his soul.

"You have no say. Америка was the one to accept the deal. In fact, she had said that she would have done anything to get away from me." If she could punch her past self, America would. Looking back, she should have been more careful with her words. Why couldn't she just leave earlier?!

Soviet walked past her father and pulled America from her mother. Her mother begged for her father to do something to stop this. America had tried to pull away from his grip but just as she was about to slip out, Soviet pulled her close and kissed her. Everything around them faded away to black and America had wished she was forgotten.

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The wedding planning and the actual wedding were a blur. All America could remember was her dress: a simple white dress. It was so plain and she was so sure it was Soviet's ex-wife's dress. It was tighter around her chest and waist. If only she said something about the dress. After the ceremony, there was an attempt for sex. If it wasn't for Third Reich's twins, East and West Germany, asking for a bedtime story, America didn't know what would happen.

She just wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

"Америка? Is it dinner time?" Soviet's eldest child, Armenia, called out. It had been six months since the wedding and America had barely left her...and Soviet's...bedroom. She was forced to move into Soviet's home and help take care of his children, mostly his young children.

"Yeah. I'll get something ready soon. Can you stall your father a bit?" Armenia nodded and left the bedroom. America sighed before finally standing up. She quickly walked out, avoiding Soviet's kids and Third Reich's kids, straight to the kitchen. It was the only place she could be truly by herself. Soviet would never enter the area and none of the kids were going to bug her while she cooked. It was both great and heartbreaking.

Might as well start on dinner. Otherwise, it'll be a bitch to deal with Soviet. America thought as she subconsciously tucks her already tuck bangs. After the wedding, Soviet had made her pull back all her hair in a tight bun, making her show her right eye twenty-four hours a day. She hated it but what could she do?