Title: Wanting
Genre: General/Angst
Characters: Prussia/Gilbert&Germany/Ludwig. Russia/Ivan being a creep.
Rating: M
Warnings: Rape. Bondage. Incest. Human names used. Mild language ( but really, what is that compared to rape ). OOC!Insane!Prussia. Still not having a beta. My first time writing something so, uh... Dark.
Summary: "Basically, Russia wins the Cold War, and invites Prussia to 'annex' his brother and create a united, socialist Germany. By which I mean he persuades Gil to rape his brother. Germany tries to get his brother to stop and Russia helps by restraining Ludwig and giving advice, but does not actually take part in the act. Also, he doesn't threaten Gil in any way. Make it clear than in the end it is all Prussia's choice and no-one elses." - Another exploring the darker side of kink meme de-anon

"I assure you, Prussia, he really does want it."

Gilbert's crimson eyes, dull with incomprehension slid from his bound, gagged and unconscious brother up to catch Ivan's gaze.

"He does?" Gilbert asked, arching a brow and redirecting his gaze back to his brother. Eyes filled with lust and longing dragged over the bound man's naked body, drinking in the sight as if he had been longing to see it his entire life—and perhaps he had.

"Da. And you yourself should be well aware of how wonderful the socialist regime is… All these years we've worked together so closely." Ivan purred, smiling that sweet, neutral smile of his in favour of hiding the excitement coursing through his body.

"And your dear brother begged me to bring him to you." His smile never once shifted as he spoke, "He told me that he rejects you because his people reject you and my empire… That if it were up to him he would gladly and most willingly become one…" he trailed off, violet eyes falling to Ludwig momentarily before returning to Gilbert, "That he struggles because he can't come willingly."

Gilbert nodded slowly, yes, of course. This made so much more sense. He loved Ludwig—always had, really—and each time Ludwig rejected him, claiming it was a sin and a crime against nature, his heart cracked a little bit more. Of course Ludwig had to love him in return, of course Ludwig was only trying to protect his people! That is, after all, what any good nation would do… And Gilbert had raised Ludwig to be the second most awesome nation of all fucking time. He hesitated for a heartbeat before reaching forward and brushing Ludwig's hair over his forehead, fingers sliding down over his bruised cheek bone to swollen lips—his brother had obviously struggled with Ivan to put on a good show, couldn't have the others thinking he was coming willingly after all.

The wandering hand slid lower, over Ludwig's neck and down his bare chest, making the large blonde shiver in his sleep.

"Surely you can understand how important it is to save face, Prussia?"

A pained groan announced Ludwig's return to consciousness, and both Gilbert and Ivan turned away from their game of chess and towards the noise.

"Ah, Bruderlein, you're awake." Gilbert chipped rather brightly, eyes shining with mischief—a look that Ludwig had long ago grown to become wary of, and here, tied up… Wait, tied up? Ludwig's head jerked down to stare at himself. Bondage? He grunted lowly through the gag, struggling against the rope that held him captive. His thighs cramped from being forced to sit up on his knees for so long, even slumped over against the wall as he was. He examined the ties in an attempt to find a way out—there didn't seem to be any. 'Of course, Gilbert would be a master at something like this' he thought rather bitterly to himself, squirming. Ropes looped around each separate ankle to the thigh, forcing his knees to bend and making each squirm pull the rope tight into the flesh of his muscled thigh. His arms were bound behind him, wrists-to-elbows, rendering his hands useless as well. There seemed to be other ropes tied in a repeating diamond pattern over his chest, but their only purpose was aesthetic value. Tch. "Aesthetic value," right.

A sudden cold made Ludwig shudder and he lifted his head again to find both men standing over him, Ivan appearing ridiculously large next to the lithe frame of his own elder brother. He cried something incoherent through the tape covering his mouth and Gilbert grinned, reaching down to quickly rip it off, earning a short yell from the younger German.

"What… Is going on here, Gilbert?" Ludwig cried as soon as his mouth was free. "Untie me this instant, brother. This is obscene and highly inappropriate—meetings should not be conducted in this way, Russia." He growled, shooting a look towards Ivan.

"Ah, but it is not my meeting, Germany." Ivan muttered gently in response, smile brightening. "Your brother is… Conducting… This one."

Eyes narrowing angrily, Ludwig's eyes—confused, angry, and even frightened—sought out his brother's. "Is this true, Gilbert?"

Gilbert nodded almost proudly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Don't worry little brother, I know everything, and now we can finally join together to create a perfect, socialist Germany." His eyes shone with some longing and affection that Ludwig wished he could unsee. That being impossible, he did the second best thing and closed his eyes, turning his head away from his lunatic of a brother. Gilbert had always been a bit crazy, but this… This was outrageous even for him.

Rather pleased by his brother's continued denial—after all it meant Ivan was right, why else would Ludwig reject him so?—Gilbert slid a foot forward, the tip of one steel-toed boot sliding along the aching inner thigh of his brother. "Struggle, little brother, so everybody believes that you're fighting back."

A hint of amusement flashed through Ivan's eyes when Ludwig did, indeed, begin to struggle, but it was gone as quickly as it came. He turned towards Gilbert, smiling sweetly, "Would you rather I leave you two alone? O-"

"Stay." Gilbert interrupted, eyes focused solely on his brother, "The people will believe West's act even more if there is a witness to confirm. After all, what nation wouldn't want a romp with the amazing Prussia?"

"Ah… Da, you are quite clever, Comrade Prussia." Ivan nodded, bringing a gloved hand up to hide the little smirk he couldn't quite manage to swallow. Quite clever indeed.

Gilbert paid the large man no mind as he lowered himself to his knees, stroking Ludwig's hair gently, tenderly. "I will not be gentle when the time comes, brother. It is the only way they will believe." He murmurs, his affection tone making Ludwig shudder violently, eyes flying open to stare up at Gilbert.

"You're insane, Gilbert. I don't want this." He says lowly, shaking his head the slightest bit, "Don't do this, Gilbert. Let me go back to my people." He tries, even as Gilbert's hand cradles the back of his head and lips descend upon his own, caressing gently, as if they were long time lovers.

Ludwig flinched at the contact—once upon a time he had loved Gilbert, but this was not Gilbert. When Gilbert tried to force his way into Ludwig's mouth, the blonde nation leant back and promptly smashed his forehead against his brother, dazing the both of them momentarily and sending Gilbert tumbling back onto his ass with a grunt.

Ivan shifted from his seat, prepared to punish Ludwig for his violence, but Gilbert shook his head, cringing from the rather idiotic movement, and lifted a hand to stop him.

"Don't you fucking touch him, Ivan. It's fine, after all, he has to make me and everybody else believe that he doesn't want this as much as I do." Gilbert moved forward again after recovering from the head-butt, fingers twisting beneath the rope across Ludwig's chest to pull him forward and smash their lips together in a painful parody of a kiss, biting his younger brother's lips hard enough to split skin, teeth gnashing against teeth, tongue forcing its way past Ludwig's lips. And, so surprised by the sudden, overwhelming strength of his elder brother, Ludwig does little to fight back, even as Gilbert begins fucking his mouth with his tongue.

Finally he manages to gather his wits and bite down on the invading muscle, but Gilbert manages to pull free before blood can be drawn. With a low growl, Gilbert's fist meets Ludwig's jaw and pain blossoms first from the punch and then thrums evenly over the bruises already littering his face.

"Shame, really." Gilbert pants softly, shaking his head, "You're fucking gorgeous, West. I hate to mess up your pretty face." He says with a smirk.

"Let me go, Gilbert." Ludwig repeats, and Gilbert rolls his eyes, shaking his head again.

A cold hand trails across Ludwig's chest, tweaking each framed nipple in turn. "There would be no fun in that. And you look so nice all tied up and waiting for me." His grin intensifies and he glances over towards Ivan. "Would you hand me that Impact Cane, Ivan?"

Ivan glanced back towards the table, reluctant to take his eyes away from the show, but fished the requested item from Gilbert's pile of toys and handed it back to the albino, silent.

Gilbert glanced back towards Ludwig and blinked a few times, arching a brow in amusement. "West, you're getting hard." His free hand reached down between Ludwig's thighs, gloved fingers curling around his cock. Ludwig looked away again, biting his tongue so hard that he was certain he would taste blood any moment—but as long as he didn't make the noises he was certain Gilbert wanted to hear, that was quite all right with him.

And when Ludwig didn't make any of those lovely noises, Gilbert stopped his stroking—content that, at the very least, Ludwig was fully hard. He was almost sad that he wasn't going to have the chance to ride his brother's large cock, but there would be time for that in the future. After all, they would have all the time in the world once they were united.

And fucking his brother's tight ass would be a pleasure he knew that no other soul had experienced. His brother was as frigid as they came, even if he did watch the most obscene sort of porn he could find.

Gilbert shook his head, clearing these thoughts from his mind to get back to the task at hand.

"West… I need you to fight back, or everybody will think you wanted to be with me, and your people will be unhappy. Even if we both know that this is the way it has to be. The way it needs to be." Gilbert bent down to place a kiss on his brother's forehead and then rose back to his feet, moving to be behind his brother. "It's okay. I'll help."

Ludwig had a split second to wonder what the fuck his insane brother meant by that before a boot planted squarely in the centre of his back, sending him falling forward. With his arms tied behind his back there was no way for him to break the fall and he found his face smashed on the ground, nose bleeding profusely, probably broken.

The pained cry he gave the only noise he would let himself utter. If Gilbert wanted him to struggle, he wouldn't. If Gilbert wanted to hear him scream, he would try his fucking damnedest to keep every noise to himself.

Wide, bright blue eyes stared up towards the ceiling, focusing on the bland cement walls and trying to detach from his body. He tried to go away, to a place safe in his mind where Gilbert couldn't reach him, but suddenly Ivan's smiling face was hanging over him. The large Russian had slipped from his seat to crouch near Ludwig's head, staring into his eyes with unhidden pleasure. The fucker was getting off on watching his brother abuse him.

Ludwig had almost decided to break his self-imposed vow of silence and tell Ivan to fuck off when a sudden pain cracked over his spine. No matter how badly he wanted to, Ludwig would not cry out, he would not voice the unbearable pain of his brother's assault. Hit after hit to his back and ass made his body twitch violently but he refused to cry out, eyes squeezing shut so he didn't have to witness the joy, the spark of pleasure that would shoot through Ivan's eyes with each twitch and cringe.

"West, you're not being any fun." Gilbert mumbled, "But I guess it's okay. After all, we're doing all of this for you, so your people don't hate you in the end when we're one."

Ludwig wanted to ask his brother what the fuck had given him such ridiculous ideas. What in the hell possessed him to believe that he wanted to join their socialist regime, to make Ivan, of all nations, that much stronger. But he would hold his tongue, not struggle, not fight; that was exactly what Gilbert wanted and he wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

At least not until he heard the telltale sound of a zipper being lowered.

A clatter shortly after signaled Gilbert was done beating his brother with the cane, but Ludwig's unease didn't diminish. He began struggling again, trying to squirm away from his lunatic brother but finding it impossible the way he was bound. He managed to rise to his knees and scoot forward some inches but had completely forgotten about the Russian in their company. At least until he felt a hand much larger than his brother's on his shoulder, holding him in place.

"Do not be leaving yet, Germany; your brother still has something he wants to give you." Ivan's sweet voice assaulted Ludwig's ears, made him cringe and shake his head, ignoring the pain spreading from each individual wound on his face.

"Brother, don't do this." He choked out when he felt Gilbert's hands on his hips. He was ignored, of course—after all, Ludwig was only fighting back to save face.

"Gilbert, please! Stop this ridiculousness!" his voice was hoarse, wet from the blood he repeatedly spat out just to breathe. "Please!" he cried, louder, when one hand snaked beneath him, wrapping around his softened cock again. He shuddered as he was gently brought to full arousal again, and then began struggling anew when he heard Gilbert speak.

"Ivan. Would you mind handing me the cock ring I brought?"

Again Ivan hesitated, really rather liking his current position in all of this, but he rose to fetch it—after all, he was only observing, only a witness to assure the world that Ludwig did fight. He returned with the ring in hand, examining it a moment before handing it over to Gilbert, tilting his head to the side.

"Clever Comrade. If he does not finish he did not enjoy it, da?"

Gilbert looked up and nodded, "Ja." He then bent down over his brother's body to whisper sweetly against his ear, "We'll have all the time in the world to play after we're finished, West." The hand returned to stroke him a few more times and Ludwig shuddered rather obediently with every move of his brother's hand. He cringed when the ring slid down over his length and was fastened in place, a low whimper spilling from his chest.

"Gilbert, Bruder, please stop this. Don't do this." He tried again, but Gilbert knew it was only an act and would do no such thing. It was just an act so that they could be together.

The heavy weight of his brother's cock rested on Ludwig's ass and he began to struggle again. Violence was one thing, violence and torture he could handle. He could deal with the scars and the aches that would likely follow him for years. But being raped by his own brother? His brother whom he had loved more than anything before… Before Ivan managed to get a hold of him. Before he changed.

His brother whom he had never had the chance to say "I love you" to, never had the chance to kiss him properly like a lover would.

That he could not remain silent through.

Without any warning or preparation, Gilbert pulled back and thrust his entire dick into his brother's virgin ass, the loud moan spilling from Gilbert completely masked by the strangled scream tearing from Ludwig's throat. He slumped down, held up only by Gilbert's hands on his waist, and cried out again as his brother pulled back rather immediately—giving him no time to adjust to the large intrusion in a previously unexplored part of his body.

The elder brother's thrusts were violent, meant to hurt and not pleasure, but they became more fluid as blood from the tears pooled to lubricate the invading organ. A hand slid beneath Ludwig again, stroking his cock with a tenderness that contrasted so greatly to the pain shooting up his spine it made his head spin. He choked on his own blood and saliva as his brother tore into him, thrusting at a bruising speed, hips slamming against his ass with loud smacks. His eyes remained open, but they focused on nothing, a blur of beige and violet all he could see… Perhaps Ivan had leant to the side to keep an eye on his face, contorted with such pain and betrayal that it made Ivan shiver in delight.

"Ich… Liebe… Dich… Bruderlein." Gilbert growled between thrusts. He released his brother's dick and bent his body over the larger man's, biting his way across Ludwig's back, leaving dark bruises and occasionally biting so hard he broke skin. These wounds he would lick almost tenderly, never once faltering in his rutting.

In reality it wasn't very long—to Ludwig it was a lifetime—but finally Gilbert's rhythm seemed to break, his movements not quite as fluid as they had been and Ludwig prayed that it meant this hell would be over soon. Tears and blood from the broken nose stained his face, abrasions from being rubbed against the floor stung constantly, and his hands were covered in blood from wounds he had inflicted on his own palms, clenching his hands into such tight fists his nails broke the skin.

The entire time, Gilbert moaned his named sweetly, "West" or "Bruderlein" pouring from his lips. And, if he hadn't been being violently raped, Ludwig might have welcomed it and reveled in the way his brother called to him so lovingly.

He knew his brother loved him, somewhere in that twisted mind, and even, through all of this, Ludwig knew he would always love his brother.

But knowing that made it all the worse when Gilbert thrust into him a final time, crying his name and spilling his seed deep inside his body, tearing a scream from Ludwig again, brought on by the stinging pain from each cut in his ass being assaulted by that hot liquid. Finally, body so overwhelmed with pain, he finally blacked out. Gilbert wrapped his arms around Ludwig's torso and slumped over his brother's body, still buried deep inside him.

Half-lidded crimson eyes rose to meet violet. Ivan nodded, his lips twitching into that familiar smile again.

"I finally did it for us, West." Gilbert murmured, softly stroking his brother's hair, matted with sweat and blood and lord knows what else.

Germany would be united.

"We can be together now, Ludwig."