A/N: So, I originally was just going to do the first italiziced part, but I got into it.
Dyan is Wales, Alistair is Scotland, Arthur is England. I wasn't sure what name to use for Ireland and North Ireland, tell me if you have an idea.
Want me to stop or keep going? Probably be non-con lime (raep) in the next chapter if I keep going.
Warnings: Mentions of abuse, almost raep.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my twisted mind.
The feel of the warm, hard wood…
A fist slamming into his side…
A spray of ruby red stains the wooden floors yet again…
A flash of messy red hair and unforgiving green eyes…
The harsh scent of cigarette smoke…
A cruel snicker…
The sound of a zipper being unzipped…
Arthur pressed his hands to his ears and closed his eyes tightly. He would not- could not remember that time.
And yet it was the only memory he could not forget.
Online counseling websites told him he had to face the cause to start treatment.
Arthur took a deep breath and opened his eyes…
his hands pinned above his head by Alistair's larger, rougher hands. His elder brothers always teased him about… well… everything.
Dylan was never all that bad but… he never paid attention…
Arthur's vision went black for a moment as pain registered on the side of his head.
"Dun go thinking for yerself now. Pay attention to me." Alistair blew a smoke ring into Arthur's face, causing him to gag.
Alistair pulled some duct tape out from his pocket and waved it tauntingly above Arthur's head. "You en I are going to 'ave some fun mate."
Alistair wrapped the duct tape around Arthur's wrists, then flipped him over, keeping Arthur's face pressed against the ruby-colored wood.
Arthur closed his eyes tighter again, he went farther then he usually did, but he could not relive that day.
That day… It hadn't been the first day of abuse, nor would it be the last. Yet it was the first time he ever did… that.