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The Price of Dignity	By : larien04 Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 2022 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I dont own Hetalia and I make no money off this fic; although if you'd like to pay me for it I wouldnt exactly say no.

Chapter List
- 1-The Price of Dignity
- 2-The Price of Dignity Part II
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A/N: *WARNING* This story involves both incest and rape. If anybody has ANY issues with either of these things PLEASE do not read this story. I am not responsible for any trauma caused by this. You were warned.

Arthur stood impatiently waiting for the resident of the home inside to answer his door. He was pissed and he was going to give the bastard a piece of his mind. “Open up you damn alcoholic!” he shouted banging on the door.

The door opened and he was greeted by the man he hated more than anyone on this earth “Oi, what the fuck do you want, brother?” the last word was sneered.

Arthur pushed his way into Scotland’s home “What the fuck were you thinking?!” he shouted, clearly pissed off.

The Scotsman’s eyes glinted dangerously “Already looking for a fight, little brother, and it’s not even noon? I have to ask why you’re here, though; shouldn’t you be in France bending over for that frog you love so much?”

The English Nation narrowed his eyes as he remembered the conversation he had had with France last night before they went to bed…

Arthur had always cherished time with his husband after sex, though he would never admit it, it was a time where they could just be together with no distractions from the outside world. Francis enjoyed this time as well because it was the only time Arthur would allow him to hold him for any length of time. They would whisper all sorts of things to each other in the darkness tangled together, they would talk about their future, they would talk of times past, but they would never argue or fight with one another during this time because that would ruin the magic.

“Tell me,” Arthur spoke softly “Who was your first?”

The man holding him tensed “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to, cheri” France returned.

Arthur cocked his eyebrow “What are you talking about? Of course I want to know.”

Francis’ grip tightened on his partner knowing that as soon as he answered that their magic moment of peace would end. “You can’t be angry with me because this was before you were even born….”

Arthur laughed at the ridiculousness of the statement “Was it that Spanish idiot? That wouldn’t bother me; I don’t really hate him anymore. I just pretend to on occasion when you’ve both had too much sauce.”

The French Nation half smiled “Non, it wasn’t Antonio…”

“Who then?”

“It was Scotland…”

“From what I hear; you used to do very much the same back in the day.” England eventually responded answering his brother’s question.

The auburn haired man took one quick step towards the Island Nation and grabbed him by his shirt collar “What did you say you little punk?”

Arthur rolled his eyes, unflinching and shrugged out of his brothers grip “I’m not afraid you anymore so you can just knock off that attitude of yours. And are you embarrassed by it? You weren't even that good in bed from what I hear.”

Scotland had just about had it with his little brothers attitude, he wasn’t sure who the fuck Arthur thought he was but he sure as hell wasn’t going to come into his house and bring up painful memories for his amusement. Picking the younger nation up by his collar he slammed the man against the wall “Bastard. You better watch your fucking mouth. I don't know where you are hearing these lies, but you better knock it off before I beat the shit out of you.”

Refusing to cow to his brother he looked him in the eye with a smirk on his face and a mocking tone in his voice “What? Is big brother Scotland embarrassed by his past?”

The ill-tempered nation moved his hand from holding his brother up by his collar so that he was pinning the man to the wall by his neck “Why the fuck would I be embarrassed? I fucked that kid before he decided to fuck you in the ass instead.”

The Brit narrowed his eyes his eyes dangerously, struggling to get free “You might have kept him around a bit longer if you hadn't been such a prick.”

Scotland tightened his grip on his brothers throat painfully “I'd watch what you say, I could end you right here and now little brother.”

This was not the position that Arthur envisioned he would be in right now; if anything it was Scotland who should be up against the wall and not him. Moving swiftly he landed a knee to his brother’s gut and moved away quickly when he wrenched back in pain. “I told you, you don’t frighten me” he started, straightening his collar and smoothing out his shirt. “Besides, I only came to ask you why you had to pick him. I never actually intended to pick a fight with you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Why couldn't you have fucked someone else?” he whispered “Now I'm going to see your face every time we have sex.”

Taking out a cigarette and lighting it Scotland took a moment to take a long drag off it before blowing the smoke in Arthurs face “I can fuck who I want, when I want.” He took a single step and was in the Brits face “He was so tight back then but he enjoyed it. He moaned my name every night and day until you had to come along and rat to him about how I would beat you at night. You’re the entire fucking reason he left me. If you had just kept your fucking mouth shut he would have never left me. I should have beaten your ass harder.” Remembering the look of disgust on France’s face from so long ago when he had found out that he was abusing Arthur made something twist painfully inside the Scottish Nation and he grabbed Arthur once more and slammed him into the wall with such force that he nearly knocked the breathe out of the Englishman. There would be a nice indentation of Arthurs form in the wall but he would deal with that later. “You know what I think?” he whispered into his brother’s ear in a lethal tone “I think I’ve earned myself some payback.”

“What the fuck are you talking about you bleeding psychopath?” Arthur struggled but Scotland used his strength to pin the nation against the wall tight so that he couldn’t move.

The grin on Scotland’s face matched the utterly sadistic look in his eyes and Arthur started to wonder if maybe he shouldn’t have come here to begin with.

Taking his half smoked cigarette and tapping it so that the ashes fell onto Arthurs perfectly pressed white shirt he grinned once before putting it out on the English Nations neck.

The British Nation would absolutely not give the bastard the satisfaction of hearing him scream so he bit down on his lip making a tiny trail of blood from the amount of force exerted. “You son of a bitch, I have scars that go deeper than that. I told you, you can’t frighten me.”

“Oh you think so? I'm about to give you the deepest scar you could possibly imagine, twat.” In one swift motion he ripped the man’s pants and boxers from him and looked directly at the British Nations decidedly flaccid penis. “Hah, pathetic. I guess I was telling the truth when I told everyone you were a little prick.” Forcing Arthur’s hands above his head he held them in place with one hand, pressing his body weight against the rest of him so he couldn’t move, and he used his remaining hand to start to undo his pants.

England’s eyes went wide in fear “What the fuck are you doing you son of a bitch?! I’m your goddamn brother! Even you aren’t that sick in the head!”

Using all the strength of a nation the older man roughly tossed his brother onto the floor on his stomach and was on top of him in a seconds time “'I’m just getting what I'm owed you little brat” and without waiting a second longer he thrust inside the younger nation roughly without any sense of lubrication or gentleness.

Tears brimmed at Arthurs eyes from the immense pain and but he refused to let them fall. “I will kill you” he managed to grit out.

Scotland pulled out and then thrust in as hard as possible leaning over the man’s back and whispering into his ear “If you try, I'll rape you again. Do you remember right before the Hundred Years War began, Arthur?” The nation thrusted roughly as he told the story’ “In 1334 when I fought for my independence against you and Francis offered us asylum in his country? He halted a peace treaty that was in the works between you two and said that there would only be a treaty of peace if you included Scotland in the treaty? You always wondered why he did that didn’t you?”

Arthur didn’t dignify the question with a response.

“Now you know why” was the smug answer.

“Do you remember around that same time when I killed two thousand of your men in a single raid and destroyed your crops and your home?” Arthur spat in response.

“Shut your mouth, whore. I'll tell everyone about this nice little prick you have. I know you’ve got to be hard for me by now.” So saying he reached a hand down and smirked broadly when he felt Arthur’s erection “I can’t wait to tell Francis how hard you were for me little brother.”

Arthur knew he was hard but he would never ever admit it outloud“There's not a chance in hell that I would ever get hard for you.”

Grabbing his brother's ripped boxers from the floor the Scottish Nation shoved them in England’s mouth to gag him “That ought to shut you up. Little shit. I've heard way too much out of your mouth already.”

Gagging on his own boxers was not something British Nation relished in, he spat them out with force. “Fuck you. Why are you really doing this to me? Is it because you were in love with him? Did you try and get him back but were unable to succeed because you don’t know how to be anything but a fucking twat?” He might not be have been able to move from the position he was in but he could still fight back; psychologically.

“Enough out of you!” he picked up the pace, eager to be finished with the little bastard so he could have a drink.

England’s voice was something between breathless passion and pure hatred “Looks like I've hit a sore spot. Do you cry at night for your long lost love? How does it feel to know that you lost out to your little brother?”

“It doesn't matter now, he’s not that tight little cry baby like he was back then. Looks like I fucked some manliness into him.”

Arthur shook his head fiercely “He hasn’t let anybody top him since you. You did something to him but it wasn’t that.”

Scotland grinned broadly “He just wanted to know what it was like to be me. He wanted the power, the control, and to feel the little guy squirm under him; that’s the only reason he’s ever been with you.” And with that he gave a few hard quick thrusts and pulled out to come all over Arthur’s legs and backside.

Letting go of the English Nation he leaned against the sofa arm and looked down at his brother with a satisfactory grin “Get the fuck up off my floor and take your torn pants and boxers home to your husband to fix. Let him see your battered body; the blood and cum dripping down your legs and tell him to give me a call sometime.”

The country known as England slumped to the floor and watched with a detached gaze as his brother smoothed out his own clothes before picking up the torn boxers and pants and walking out the front door, dropping the clothes just outside the door.
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The Price of Dignity