For Artie's birthday, of course.
This... This has gone in so many directions and now I'm not entirely sure what happened here. But, hey, it's birthday themed, so...
Warnings: There's... some morally... mmm. Not quite right. Things. Mentioned. They're Devils, so. Also, violence but no-one gets hurt too much.
Also: in this AU, since I couldn't fit the explanation in with the flow of the story, the demons are human souls who willingly do evil things. Then they're tortured and transformed into demons a la Supernatural. Devils, meanwhile, are pure souls where the human did a lot of 'good intentions' and you know that saying, "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions"...? Well, in this AU, it's true. Not only that, but Devils aren't smoke like the demons but have physical bodies which start out in Hell as a child as the soul itself needs to learn its way. Some of them have to live on their own. Others are taught...
In the wasteland of Hell, a lone Devil was out for a stroll. He clambered over large rocks, his wings flexing behind him to lend him balance. Behind him, the pointed tip of his tail weaved in a complicated pattern, a spell protecting him from being found – he had no desire to return to work. The strange light of Hell glinted off his obsidian horns, twisting around his head. A pair of glasses framed his glowing blue eyes, helping him to be more attractive and, thus, lure in more unsuspecting humans. His dark hair framed his face though a single strand stuck upwards, something the Devil was sure he had had when he was alive.
Distantly, the highest ranking Devil heard horns, alerting those who cared to the absence of their King. A search party would be sent out for him, to make sure he was still alive – or to find his dead body. Alfred smirked, knowing that, no matter how hard they looked, they would never find him and he was content with being completely alone.
Of course, as soon as the thought crossed his mind, his peace was shattered.
"Wh-Wh-Who are you?" said a squeaky, scared voice. "W-Where am I?"
Blinking, Alfred looked down and found a small boy standing a few feet from him, staring up at him with the greenest eyes Alfred had ever seen. In fact, they seemed more beautiful than all the fake finery they had back in his palace. Alfred wanted to pluck them from the child and keep them – or, failing that, keep the child as his own.
He winced at that train of thought. The last time he had found a newly formed Devil – for that must be what the child was; no demon arrived as something so innocent – had been Ivan. And before that had been Matthew. He had tried to raise them as obedient children, an odd thing for a denizen of Hell. But he had wanted them to grow up into something he could use. Unfortunately, they had found the delights of Hell and both of them were now seriously twisted: Alfred avoided their Dungeons as much as he could.
Shaking his head, he returned his attention to the child who seemed to have sensed something was wrong and retreated behind a boulder. The young Devil peeked out at him, eyes wide. Ignoring the brilliant orbs, Alfred took in the rest of the child's appearance. Messy, bright red hair framed his face, almost covering his large eyebrows. Tiny black horns poked from the mess, straight up, on the top of his head: Alfred predicted his horns would never twist into ram's horns. He had folded his wings tight against his back and his tail was lowered in an unconscious effort to make himself smaller. As was usual for new Devils, he was wearing a white tunic and a black cloak. However, unlike Matthew and Ivan, his tunic was already dirty: he must have been clambering over the rocks in an effort to get somewhere. Both Matthew and Ivan had stayed put, Ivan presuming someone would come to get him and Matthew out of fear and confusion. Alfred found that rather interesting and wondered what sort of a person the new child had been before.
"Are you going to hurt me?" the boy said.
Alfred rolled his eyes. Why did everyone think he would hurt them? Sighing, he shook his head. "Of course not."
"Oh. Okay," said the kid and relaxed. Alfred watched in amazement as the child's tail raised a little and he flexed his wings. It had taken both Matthew and Ivan days to warm up to him and here this mystery boy was completely fine being in his presence. That trust struck something deep in Alfred and he inwardly cursed – he had sworn never to raise a Devil again, just in case they turned into something like Matthew or, worse, Ivan.
Blinking, Alfred came back to the present as the child began to wander off. "Hey!" he called after him. "Where are you going?"
Looking back, the boy tilted his head to one side and blinked at Alfred for a few seconds. "Well. I don't know."
Taking a deep breath, Alfred accepted the inevitable. "Why don't you come with me? I'll look after you and no-one will dare touch you."
"Really?" asked the child, looking at him with such pure hope that it almost hurt Alfred to look at.
"Yeah." Alfred held out a hand. The kid hesitated for a moment before hopping down off the rock he stood on and walked over to the older Devil. He grabbed hold of Alfred's hand rather tentatively, his tiny hand enveloped by Alfred's larger one. Grinning up at him, the child's tail waved behind him as if to convey his glee. Alfred forced back a fond smile – quite unbecoming of the King of Hell – and asked, "What's your name, kid?"
"Arthur," he replied.
Time had always been a strange concept in Hell. Years would pass on Earth and only a couple of days would have gone by in Hell: conversely, it could be days on Earth while years rolled by in Hell. So, even though he shouldn't have been, Alfred was surprised to find that Arthur had grown without his notice. Thankfully, he hadn't grown too much: he only came to Alfred's chest in height. Alfred was grateful that he hadn't lost his cuteness, though, not to mention that he was still sweet and straightforward and hadn't been twisted at all. He had finally raised a Devil correctly.
Arthur was a curious Devil, always asking questions and running off to get into scrapes. But the other Devils seemed to enjoy his company, if only for having the chance to corrupt him when Alfred wasn't looking. However, Alfred was often proud when they underestimated the child and he got one over on them. Like the time Ivan had suggested Arthur went to the iciest part of Hell. After explaining what was there, Ivan had set off with Arthur in tow. Alfred found Arthur in front of an oven a few hours later, Ivan's screams coming from inside and snow melting in Arthur's hair.
No matter what the Devils and demons said to Arthur, he always returned to Alfred. He seemed to love the older Devil, despite the impossibility. Alfred was equally as fond of Arthur; when the young Devil insisted on being allowed on Earth to see what was going on there, Alfred let him. Most of the time, he would take the child himself. However, work sometimes got in the way (especially when Kiku chained him down to force Alfred to work) and Arthur would fly there on his own.
One such time, Alfred had just finished his work and gone home when Arthur dropped out of the sky. "Al!" he cried, grinning widely at the sight of his mentor.
"Hey, Art," Alfred replied, opening his arms wide to catch him.
"I found something on Earth!"
"Oh? What was it?"
"It's called a 'birthday party'," Arthur explained excitedly, his tail twisting continuously in the air behind him. It had lengthened over the years or days since Alfred had met him. His hair was still as messy as ever but his horns had grown thicker and in length: Alfred often wondered how big they would get and if Arthur would be able to get through doorways. As Alfred gazed at him fondly, he realised there was a pointy, pink hat on Arthur's head, secured in place by a length of elastic.
"'Birthday party'?" Alfred inquired, frowning at the hat.
"Mhm! It's where children celebrate getting older!"
"Really? I don't remember seeing that..."
Arthur rolled his beautiful eyes. "That's because when you go up you focus on the adults."
"They're so much easier to manipulate," Alfred sighed, wistfully. "Children are harder as they can always learn to be good again."
"Not if you do it right," Arthur sang, his tail twisting faster as though he was proud of himself.
"Oh, my lovely child," Alfred said, grinning toothily. "Have you been corrupting children while I've not been paying attention?"
"Yes," Arthur replied, obviously pleased with himself. "Ah! But that's not the point. The point is that birthday parties are fun. And I want one!"
"A birthday party? For a Devil?"
"Uh huh. What's wrong with that? Why can't we have them?"
Alfred shrugged as he set Arthur down before him. With a wave of his hand, their front door opened and Alfred ushered the excited teenager ahead of him. "Because we're not 'born'. We come from death."
"But we're made," Arthur pointed out. "So the day we were made is the day we were 'born'."
"And do you remember when you woke up in the wastelands?" Alfred asked as he crossed the entrance hall on his way to the kitchen. He could murder a coffee.
"No," admitted Arthur. "But you remember when you found me, right?"
"I remember the events, Art, but you know time isn't like it is on Earth. You can grow three inches in height in a day then take two years to grow one. So when should your 'birthday' be?"
"Right now! I want a party right now!"
Laughing, Alfred headed to one of the shiny cupboards which lined the high-tech kitchen. It always shone despite all sorts going on in the room – and Alfred never lifted a finger. Being so powerful was a Lucifer's end. He took out two mugs and set them on the counter. "We can't have one now. There aren't any guests."
"Invite them now," Arthur demanded impatiently, flying over to the table and sitting down.
"Yeah, yeah," sighed Alfred, thinking he had spoiled the child too much.
"Will you really?"
Turning, Alfred brought the now steaming mugs of coffee over to the table and set one in front of Arthur. "I might as well," he told Arthur. "Otherwise you'll bug me for days. Or even years."
"Of course!" Arthur said, cheerfully, the glint in his eyes malicious.
After Arthur had eventually dropped off to sleep, Alfred called his fellow Devils to him. Francis came first, shortly followed by Kiku who, thankfully, refrained from asking about Alfred's work. Next came Feliciano and Lovino, the latter grumbling the entire time it took for him to get from the front door to the unnecessarily large living room. Feliciano stared up at the vaulted ceilings, eyes wide when he took in the chandelier, a new addition to the living room as demanded by Arthur. Antonio eventually turned up, dragging Yao behind him as, apparently, Yao was going to refuse the summons again – Alfred really had to teach that Devil a lesson. Ludwig and Gilbert appeared in the living room which was bad manners, really... Elizaveta came in followed by an intoxicating floral scent and her counterpart, Roderich – Alfred eyed them both before remembering Arthur upstairs and deciding not to ask the succubus and incubus for their services at the moment. The final two, Matthew and Ivan, arrived deliberately late, though Alfred had expected that and merely watched them with a bored expression: getting angry was what they wanted.
"Right," said Alfred, waving his hand to send a couple of wine glasses flying far too fast towards Matthew and Ivan's heads. They caught them effortlessly. "Now that we're all here, I have a proposal for you."
"Does it have anything to do with our corruption statistics?" asked Yao at once.
Alfred sighed. "Fucking hell, Yao. Every time. Like I fucking care about that. I told you as long as you do it-"
"Then I want no part in whatever plan you are cooking up now." Yao stood, ready to go.
The King of Hell was having none of it. He leapt to his feet, standing to his full height – and continuing to grow. His wings spread out, filling the giant room, and his eyes burned brighter. "Fucking sit down, Yao," he growled. The lower ranked Devil reluctantly did so, though he glared at Alfred in defiance.
"Is this something to do with your darling Arthur?" asked Francis, quick on the uptake as per usual.
Rolling his eyes, Alfred nodded and sat down, shrinking back to his normal proportions. "Yeah. He went to Earth on his own again – did you know he's corrupting children?"
"But children don't stay corrupted," Feliciano pointed out, quietly.
"According to him, he's found a way to corrupt them for life," Alfred explained. "Though, that really isn't the point. The fact of the matter is that he's spent so much time around children, he wants to mimic something he's seen there."
"What is it?" asked Kiku, frowning at his clipboard tablet thing. It changed appearance every time Alfred saw it.
"A 'birthday party'," Alfred explained.
There was a short, befuddled silence before it was broken by Matthew's laugh. "Oh, and you just have to give into the demands of that pathetic excuse for a Devil? Priceless."
"I would have pulled his wings off," said Ivan, happily, "if he had demanded that of me."
"No-one's pulling anyone's wings off," Alfred said, exasperated. "We're going to have a birthday party."
"I've seen birthday parties," Antonio offered. "There's alcohol and the birthday person gets shots. They usually end badly for the human – but pretty well for us since their judgement is impaired."
"I'm fairly sure children don't have alcohol." Alfred paused and thought for a moment, trying to remember if he had seen any birthday parties before. The image of a hellish, brightly coloured building crossed his mind; one of the employees had been fed up with the noise of all the children constantly squealing and shouting that he'd made a deal with Alfred, though the King couldn't remember the details. Currently, the man was being tortured in one of the dungeons by a higher ranking demon, as far as Alfred was aware. But Alfred could remember the mess the children got in as they ate and watched some strange animatronics put on a show. "I think they ate ice cream and jello. Oh, and cake. There was definitely cake."
"That would be the birthday cake, right?" said Gilbert, raising an eyebrow. "That one's a must. Candles – for blowing out. And we have to sing that annoying song." He rolled his eyes. "Do we really have to do this?"
"Definitely," said Alfred, firmly, glaring at the Devil. "We just need to... find all the stuff, set it up before Artie wakes up and then, y'know, do... What do children do at birthday parties?"
"Play games," Lovino grunted, arms folded across his chest and slouched in his seat.
"What games?" asked Ivan, perking up from where he had been sulking on his own couch. Matthew, who had taken a nearby armchair, also looked interested, though he managed to hide it better. "Can we play Russian Roulette?"
"I think they play that with chairs," Elizaveta said – though how a succubus knew that was anyone's guess.
"Chairs? Chairs don't often kill people..." Matthew pointed out.
"I think it's a non-lethal version. There's music. Roddy could do that."
"The Russian Roulette?!" Roderich cried, aghast.
Elizaveta sighed. "No, the music."
"Don't they pin tails to donkeys?" asked Gilbert. "That might be fun!"
"I'm not bringing a donkey in here," Alfred snapped, his voice echoing in the huge room. The other Devils pointedly looked around and raised their eyebrows. "Look, just, get games. Someone get us ice cream and jello. Someone else take care of the cake. Is there anything else we're missing?"
"Decorations," said Kiku. "They differ per region."
"Well, what do the Americans do?"
"I think they have shiny banners and paper chains. Though I may be thinking of Christmas..."
"Ah!" said Feliciano. "Do they have presents on birthdays? We haven't talked about that..."
"Yeah, thanks, Feli. I was just getting to that." Alfred nodded and leaned forwards, clasping his hands together and leaning his elbows on his knees. "Everyone needs to bring a present. And if anyone tries to kill Arthur with it, I'll disembowel them over the next Hell Year."
"Lucifer forbid we kill the brat," muttered Matthew, rolling his eyes.
"Lucifer's got nothing to do with it," growled Alfred. "This will go well and this will go smoothly or heads will fly. Yours, if you mess this up. Now, get on with it."
Everyone began to grumble but they knew they couldn't really argue without Alfred using his True Power. So each of them stood and began to leave, Ludwig already making a list as per usual. Once all of them left, Alfred stood and stretched, letting his wings expand to their full width. As he relaxed, someone spoke from behind him, almost garnering a shocked reaction, though Alfred managed to keep a neutral expression.
"You can't protect him forever."
"I'm not going to, Mattie," Alfred replied, turning to glare at the Devil. Where he'd learnt the power of invisibility to his fellow Devils, Alfred didn't know and was, frankly, a little afraid to find out. He was pretty sure only Lucifer could do something like that. Then again, it may also be that he was still rather young – Arthur always slipped under Alfred's radar.
"If you don't watch out, he's going to grow up into the most innocent Devil in all of Hell," Matthew said, running his finger along the back of the couch Alfred had been sitting on. The fabric frayed at his touch and Alfred rolled his eyes at the obvious display of rebellion. "You're meant to be corrupting him into the perfect little soldier."
"And look where that got me with you and Ivan."
Matthew smirked at Alfred. "Maybe you have to worry about him becoming a different kind of twisted. Or maybe he'll ask one of us to teach him..."
With that, he flew off, leaving Alfred with a familiar dilemma. If Arthur decided to go to one of the other Devils, he shouldn't really stop him. But Alfred knew he would – Arthur was his and he wasn't going to share him with anyone.
Alfred woke Arthur up once everyone had gathered again and everything was ready. The teenager groaned and burrowed into his pillow and Alfred had to resist the urge to hit him over the head to wake him faster. Instead he shook him till Arthur almost rolled off the bed, just catching himself in time. With a furious expression – he had never been a 'morning' Devil – he turned to Alfred, ready to let loose a torrent of curses. Then he realised who it was and brightened.
"Al! Did you do it? Do I get a 'birthday' party?"
"Of course. Just who do you think I am?"
Arthur cheered and hovered above the bed, pumping his fist into the air. "You're the King!" he cried. "I can't wait! Can we go now?"
"Why didja think I woke you?" asked Alfred, rolling his eyes. "C'mon. Everyone's waiting."
"'Kay!"
They made their way out of the bed chambers, Arthur flying above Alfred's head in excitement. He even did a couple of loops and spins as he waited for Alfred to catch up, impatience clear. When Arthur pouted at him, Alfred smirked and slowed a little till Arthur wailed and flew around the King in circles.
Eventually, they reached the living room. The door was closed and Alfred made Arthur stand on the floor instead of hovering. That resulted in a bouncing Arthur, his tail waving in the air behind him, his wings flexing. Once Alfred deemed him ready, he threw open the door and shouted, "Tada!" so it echoed around the large space.
What had been a cluster of couches and armchairs was now an empty space with only a small double row of rickety wooden chairs. A large table had been set up against the far wall with various flavours of ice cream and jello and even a spiked punch bowl, complete with a warped Cherub fountain. Black and red paper chains had been made, each of them depicting a different type of death, with decapitation being a favourite. A shiny banner had been stolen from a current birthday party and declared 'Happy Birthday Karen'. Over in the corner, on top of one of the moved armchairs, was a pile of presents, each one a box wrapped in black wrapping paper and topped with a sickly, yellow bow. Roderich had produced a violin and was in the middle of making a racket which would pierce the ears of any human to hear it – for the Devils, they merely tuned it out.
"Happy, uh, finding day, Arthur!" Alfred declared, sweeping his arm to encompass the room and the gathered, unhappy Devils.
"Yay!" said Arthur, grinning widely. He shot forward, flying once again in his glee. "What're the chairs for?" he asked, circling them.
"For Russian Roulette," Ivan explained, his tone suggesting Arthur was stupid.
Arthur blinked and tilted his head, thinking. Then he looked straight at Ivan and said, in much the same tone as the larger Devil had used, "Isn't that played with a gun?"
Spotting the flicker of fury in Ivan's eyes, Alfred ushered Arthur towards the pile of presents. "There are presents – why don't you open one?"
"Okay!"
Picking up the closest one, Arthur ripped the paper off and paused. Whatever it was had begun to seep through the black box and was dripping something dark onto the floor. He raised an eyebrow at Alfred who glanced around and found Ludwig shifting nervously. Shrugging, Arthur opened the box and peeked inside. "Oh," he said in surprise. "What's it from?"
"A Cherub," Ludwig answered. Everyone paused and turned to the punch bowl. Then there was a chorus of 'Oh's.
"I know just what to do with this!" Arthur declared, smiling at Ludwig. He set the box aside for the moment and pulled the next one closer, quickly pulling off the bow. As soon as he did so, Alfred heard a ticking sound coming from the present. Sighing, he grabbed the box from Arthur and threw it towards Gilbert who dutifully caught it just before it exploded.
"Hey!" he cried, once the smoke had cleared. He looked none the worse for wear though did appear rather disappointed, judging by his pout. "I put a lot of effort into that!"
"No bombs," Alfred said, sweeping his hands over the presents. Matthew clicked his tongue when his present disappeared; somewhere distant, an explosion could be heard. Alfred levelled Matthew with an unimpressed look.
Beside him, Arthur giggled. "Matthew failed again."
Matthew growled but otherwise did nothing. Instead, he stalked towards the punch and grabbed himself a cup. Everyone else turned back to watch Arthur open up the rest of the presents. There were a lot of chains and whips and Ivan had even gotten him some torture devices that Arthur immediately threw over his shoulder and broke, to the fury of the other Devil. Elizaveta and Roderich both got him something sexual and Alfred immediately used his power to make them disappear. Arthur pouted but otherwise accepted Alfred's actions.
They ate and chatted, each of the other Devils talking with Arthur individually. Alfred was wary of this but each conversation seemed to end with Arthur beaming at the older Devil and them being affronted or angry. Alfred didn't know what Arthur was doing but he had the distinct feeling that he no longer had any sort of control over him. It was rather like Matthew and Ivan except with less violence and more mind games. The King of Hell didn't often think that he was... well, concerned, but he was beginning to be.
Eventually, the Devils decided it was time for games, something Arthur was very excited about. He leaped into the air and circled the chairs, grinning. Then he landed in front of one and waited for the others to file in. There were enough chairs for everyone bar Roderich and Alfred who had decided to merely watch, mainly to make sure no-one tried to kill Arthur again. Immediately, he knew something was wrong – he was sure this Russian Roulette thing had more movement than just sitting down and hoping for the best. He shrugged, though, and waited for the results.
On the count of three, everyone sat – and, with a loud bang, Gilbert was instantly blown into the ceiling. Alfred watched as he slowly peeled away from the damaged stone and dropped to the floor. Stones skittered around him as they followed Gilbert down, rattling against the stone floor. Once everything was settled, there was a short silence. Then Arthur laughed.
"That was amazing! Let's do that again!"
"Again?" asked Matthew, frowning.
"Well, yes," Arthur explained, rolling his eyes and smirking. "There's only one winner in this game, you know. Sometimes there are tantrums when they lose, too – those are the most fun." Arthur's smirk widened as Matthew's frown deepened. "I can't wait to see your tantrum, Matthew."
"We'll see about that," Matthew growled and waved his hand. There was a brief flash of indigo light around the chairs. "I've set up the game again so let's choose our chairs."
"Good!" said Arthur and flew over the chairs to stand in front of one, Matthew and Ivan quickly following. The others glanced at each other, looked at Gilbert and then spotted Alfred's raised eyebrows. Reluctantly, everyone sat, every one of them grumbling: Elizaveta twirled a strand of hair around her finger, a sure sign she was nervous. Lovino was the one who went flying this time, though he had the sense to use his wings to stop himself from hitting the ceiling. He did, however, knock over a decorative vase that Alfred had just because. Alfred's tail twitched and the other Devils paused, waiting to see what would happen. Meanwhile, Arthur completely ignored the cooling atmosphere and flapped his wings till he could stand on his chair, rather imperiously. "That wasn't as fun, Matthew," he complained. "You should make it a different death each time." He glanced at Lovino, frowning at him as he landed as far from Alfred as possible. "And make it hurt more."
"Listen, you little-" Matthew began.
"I'll do it!" Ivan declared and swept his hands over the chairs. A violet light surrounded them, pulsing gently till it faded out of sight.
"Fantastic!" said Arthur and immediately flew to one end, landing on the floor and waiting for the others. They reluctantly got into position while Lovino prodded the unconscious Gilbert with his foot.
This time, when they began to sit down, Arthur suddenly grabbed Feliciano who was next to him, spun him around and shoved the older Devil, quite violently, into the seat. As soon as Feliciano touched the chair, there was the sound of sliding metal and the Devil was pierced by several long blades which protruded from it. Feliciano made a surprised, choking sound, blood dribbling from his lips. Then he slumped forward and slowly fell off the chair, hitting the ground with a slight squelching noise. The seat disappeared and, in that instant, Gilbert woke up.
"Urgh," he said. "What did I miss?" Everyone ignored him, staring at Feliciano's body instead.
"That's cheating!" Matthew snapped.
Arthur grinned, looking as confident as he usually was. "There's nothing in the rules that says I can't," he said in a sing-song voice. "But let's not stop!" With that, he picked another chair to stand in front of, staring back at the livid Matthew with a smug look.
Since there seemed to be no stopping Arthur, everyone rearranged themselves and Ivan waved his hand again to change the seat. Alfred, who had been keeping a close eye on Arthur, turned his attention to Matthew. The Devil was holding himself back, Alfred could tell, but he was fuming and made sure to be as far from Arthur as possible. Alfred was beginning to think the game was not going to end well.
Once again, they took their positions. Once again, Arthur twirled someone out of their seat just as they were about to sit down. Once again, Arthur's chosen seat was the lethal one. This time it was Francis and the chair erupted in flames as he collapsed onto it. The Devil screamed as Arthur backed off, floating above him and watching with amusement. Then the flames died out and Francis dropped, hairless and still. As the chair vanished, Matthew jumped up.
"You little-!" he began.
He was cut off as Ivan, who had chosen to sit close to Arthur, swung for him, his violet sword in hand. Arthur dodged, laughing, and beat his powerful wings to hover out of reach. Quite solemnly, Ivan said, "You are meant to be the one losing. It is your 'birthday', after all."
Again, Arthur laughed. "You've got this game all wrong," he said. Alfred frowned at that. They had? And here he'd thought they'd got everything perfect... He watched Arthur spin in mid-air to avoid a blast from Ivan's sword before the youngest Devil continued with his declaration. "And, usually, if the brat cries enough, the birthday kid gets to win, anyway."
With a sharp growl, Matthew launched himself into the air, just as Feliciano and Lovino decided to weigh in. As the game dissolved into a fight, it didn't take long for Francis to recover. Alfred half-expected him to approach the King in protest but, instead, Francis took to the air, aiming for Arthur, growling and hissing at the loss of his appearance. Apparently, Ivan had managed to use holy fire and it was going to take a while for Francis's looks to be restored.
Chaos spread throughout the room as chunks were taken out of the wall, swords of different unnatural colours were swung, curses were sent flying, limbs whirled, wings and tails yanked. Roderich continued playing his music until a stray attack smacked into the violin and destroyed it. Then, angry, he joined in the fray, whacking Elizaveta with his wing as he did so. Thus far, Elizaveta had merely stood to the side, looking as sexy as ever. As soon as Roderich hit her, though, she lost her calm allure and launched herself at him. Things began to be knocked over and ornaments and knick-knacks were smashed. All the while, Arthur remained out of reach, using the large and impossible size of the room to his advantage, laughing when the others just missed him and taunting them when they fell back.
Finally, Alfred had had enough. He stood, his aura filling the room. Just as it began to envelop the other Devils, he roared at them. "ENOUGH!"
Startled, everyone froze, each one of them caught in undignified positions. Some of them were in the process of biting tails. Others had brought out their claws whilst some had resorted to using the sharp points of their horns. Those with rams' horns seemed to be mid-butt and Alfred would have mocked them for looking so much like animals if he wasn't completely furious. The only person who seemed to be unaffected by his shout was Arthur who clutched his stomach and laughed at the display, doubled over in mid-air.
"Get out of my house," Alfred said, his volume back to normal though his aura continued to loom over the guests.
They didn't need telling twice. All of them flew out as quickly as possible. Matthew and Ivan, however, lingered. The former glared at Arthur who gave him a cheery wave. Ivan was busy glaring at Alfred who stared back, frowning. Finally, they left, slowly swooping through the door, and Alfred was left with Arthur. He gave a sigh of relief and relaxed.
"That was fun!" said Arthur, landing beside Alfred to give him a quick hug. "And I got so many useful presents."
"I've not given you mine yet," Alfred said between deep breaths. One of these days, he was going to have to teach all the unruly Devils a lesson. But not today, of course. He had a bit of a surprise for Arthur and he didn't want his anger to ruin it.
"Oh? I thought you gave me the pocket knife?"
"I did. And it'll be very useful if Mattie ever gets your sword away from you – there's a back-up in it."
"Wow. So is the other present better than the pocket knife? Did you get me a demon to play with?"
Alfred shook his head and strode over to the presents, content in the knowledge that the curious Arthur would follow. He stuck his hand into the pile of paper and boxes and drew it out holding a teddy bear. At first glance, it was completely normal – just a black bear with a yellow ribbon around its neck. If any human were to see Arthur with it, that would be all they would see before moving on. However, in Hell and to every demon and Devil, the bear was something more than that. It was actually darker than black, darker than the deepest pit and darker than the places where monsters lurked. The red felt which made its paws and ears actually dripped blood every so often. And the yellow ribbon – which Alfred had felt was a must, considering all the TV and films he had seen – was a sickly colour. It held considerable power within it and, if Arthur chose to, he could use it to bring about curses and sickness on perfectly healthy children.
The younger Devil cried out in delight, almost snatching it from Alfred's hand. "Oh, it's perfect, Al! I'm going to use it the first chance I get!"
"Just don't start an apocalypse," Alfred replied, ruffling Arthur's hair. "That's my job, eventually."
"I won't," Arthur promised, which usually meant he really wouldn't, thankfully. He grinned down at the bear before hugging it tight, the blood flowing off it more readily. When he turned his beaming smile on Alfred, he was prepared for the teenager to ask him to take him to Earth to try his new powers out. Instead, he said, "This was great. Let's do it again next year!"
At that, Alfred froze. He had been hoping never to have to go through all that again. It was bad enough that his living room was a mess (which he would fix once he had Arthur out of his way) but seeing Matthew and Ivan actively try to harm Arthur had almost made Alfred lose his temper. If they tried a 'birthday' party again, no doubt it would descend into the same madness. But Arthur's earnest smile and big eyes made his resolve crumble – maybe Matthew was right about his favouritism.
"Sure," he told the younger Devil, patting Arthur's head. The smirk Arthur sent him sent chills down his spine but he ignored it and hoped that, next year, they didn't play Russian Roulette.
The next year, they played pass the parcel instead...
Actually, I see Arthur as growing up to be... not powerful, per se. Alfred's got far more power. But Arthur's good at manipulating people and playing mind games so he kind of actually pulls the strings in Hell. Up to a point, anyway - Alfred lets him get away with so much before stepping and saying no. Arthur always backs down immediately - and moves onto the next 'game'. Basically, he gains the title of Prince of Hell. Also, he picks up some hints and tips from Liz and Roddy and, well.
Also, do you know? It pained me to write 'jello' - mainly cause I had to, like, triple check I'd got it right. Why didn't I write this from Arthur's POV?
Speaking of which, it got a bit vague cause Alfred was just watching and not engaging so. =/ I'm not sure if that seemed right but, eh.