Disclaimer: Don't own shit.

Anyway, all my friends bug me about the Lion King one, so here you go. And if you haven't, read the Little Merman. Also, don't question why I made it mafia, I didn't want to do lions.

Alright, enjoy~

THE MAFIA KING

CHAPTER ONE-SIBLINGS

Everyone was assembling in the extravagant household. Their "king" called them in. The king's son was officially theirs today, finally going through all the adoption papers and such. No one was to miss it. If they did, the king wouldn't really mind putting them to an early grave.

The sun was slowly rising in the distance and more cars were showing up outside the house. Some sarcastic soul had started to play the Circle of Life, causing a few to mentally sing along. There was no way they'd let their king catch them doing something so weak. They hadn't been yelled at to turn it off. Yet.

A man ambled up the stairs. He was fairly tall, not as tall as the king, but still. He had slightly spiky hair and shiny blue eyes that twinkled with a smile he hardly ever lost. He was dressed in a large trench coat that was red on the inside, his rolled up sleeves showed that, and red pants with black combat boots. The little bit of his shirt you could see was red as well and slightly rumpled.

When he approached the landing, he smiled at the king and queen. He looked around, then back down at the crowd, and back at the "royal" couple. He raised an eyebrow.

"So," he said, dragging the word out along with his accent. "Where's he?" He looked at the king. "Berwald, you promised I could see him first."

The king, Berwald, turned to the queen and asked, "Did I say that, Tino?"

The small man that was the "queen" shrugged and looked at Berwald with big, violet eyes and a smile. Berwald kept the same slightly confused expression on his pale face. He moved a bit of blond hair from his intense sea green eyes.

"I guess," Tino said in a Finnish accent. "I wasn't there when you spoke with him." He turned and looked at the man. "But since he took the time to actually walk up the stairs and talk to you, I suppose you should show Matthias our son."

The man, Matthias, beamed. Tino always won when they discussed family so he knew that Berwald had to show the child to him. Berwald nodded and Tino disappeared around the corner. The king faced Matthias and gave a disapproving look.

"What? You did promise," he scoffed. "Besides I'm the most important in this room, so I deserve to see him first."

Berwald rolled his eyes, but said nothing. He had given up trying to put it through Matthias's thick skull that he wasn't the most important and that if he said it in his presence, he'd shoot. Matthias still said it and Berwald always just wasted bullets when he did.

Tino walked around the corner, pulling along a tiny child. The kid looked about four at the most, but looks can be deceiving. Matthias's eyes lit up and he sat on the floor in front of the child. The kid smiled, lighting his own blue eyes.

"Hey there, kid," Matthias lilted, poking the child's nose. The kid giggled and poked the other's nose in response. "Do you know your name?"

The child was silent in thought before nodding with a huge smile. "Awfred."

"Alfred?" Matthias repeated and the child nodded. Matthias looked up at the two who were just watching. "You named him Alfred?"

"No, that was his name already," Tino explained. "We didn't want to fill out more papers." Matthias nodded and let his eyes fall back to Alfred. "What's wrong with Alfred?"

"Nothing," he replied quickly, sensing the tension setting in. "Well, Alfred," Matthias addressed with a smile of his own and patted the small boy's head, "welcome to the family."

Alfred was pushed forward and everyone stared as the song reached "IT"S THE CIRCLE OF LIFE!" Then they smiled hugely and cheered as the three men watched, taking in everyone that was there. Berwald noted one absence, placing a mental note to visit that someone after the celebration.

A man ran down a very dark and dirty alley. He almost tripped several times, but he kept running. He accidently ran into the side of a dumpster and pain shot through his side. He swore profanities as he rubbed his hip.

Suddenly, he wasn't alone in his pain. He looked up and saw the creepy smile and crazed purple eyes. Next thing he knew, he was up against the slimy and dirty brick wall, his legs sore from ruining and cuts along his arms from bumping into things. There was a gun by his head and a fist holding onto his shirt. His eyes widened in fear.

"Where's my money, comrade?" the other asked so creepily and sweetly, you wouldn't have thought it possible, with an obvious Russian accent.

"I haven't got it!" the other man cried.

"No, I think you do. I think you just don't want me to have it. So I will kill you, da?" The Russian pressed the gun against the man's throat, washing him in fear.

"I don't have it! This isn't fair!"

"Life's not fair, is it?" the man who was holding him mused. "See, I'll never be king," he spat the word like it was a bad snack, "and you, well, you'll never get to see the light of another day." His finger started to pull the trigger and the man being held grimaced.

"Hasn't your mother ever told you not to play with your prey?" a German voice asked in the distance. The man stood there unmoving for a second with a looser grip. The man about to be shot wiggled out and ran away swiftly.

The man, still holding the gun, turned his violet eyes and smirk to the German. "Oh, Ludwig, you made me lose my customer."

"That's how you treat customers?" The man shrugged. "You'll lose more than that when the king is through with you. He's pissed that you didn't show."

"Oh, isn't that a shame," the Russian teased, slowly walking towards Ludwig. Ludwig narrowed his blue eyes.

"What are you doing, Ivan?"

The Russian, Ivan, smirked and walked closer, putting his gun away and pulling out a faucet pipe that seemed to come from nowhere. Ludwig gulped as he noticed the creepy aura. One does not simply take out the Russian when he's pissed. When he's mad, just hope your end is quick.

"Well, Ludwig, I'm still a little blood thirsty since I missed my chance with that nice young man. No one would miss you anyway," he chuckled, dark and creepy like. He was close now. He brought up the pipe and was just about to bring it down and end the German's life when a voice rung out in the alley.

"Drop it, Ivan." Heavy and Swedish. Berwald was here.

"Nice timing," Ludwig muttered under his breath. Ivan took a deep, aggravated breath in and dropped the pipe. No one disobeyed the king, not even Ivan. Berwald walked up to him.

"Why, brother, come down to mingle with the low lives, have we not?" Ivan commented in an overly sarcastic tone.

"I didn't see you today. I called for everyone, even you," Berwald deadpanned. Ivan smiled, picked up his pipe, and put it away.

"Was that today? It must have slipped my mind." He started to walk away, but Berwald gripped his wrist and spun him to face the two. Ivan sighed, shaking his arm away.

"As the king's brother," the way Ludwig said brother, he might as well have said imbecilic dunce of a sibling, "you should've been the first in line." Ivan stared the German down, putting his hand over his gun.

"I was until the little thing was brought home," Ivan muttered and let go of the gun.

"That thing is my son and future king," Berwald scolded, stepping closer. Ivan rolled his eyes, looking bored.

"I shall practice me curtsy," he replied sarcastically. He began walking away, but Berwald was instantly in front of him, blocking the way. Ivan leaned against the wall in boredom. "Move over, da?"

"Ivan, why do you do this?"

"I haven't the slightest clue as to what you mean, comrade. Now, I have business to attend to that your little helper monkey interrupted."

He pushed past Berwald and walked off, his all black attire matching the night and the alley. Berwald let out an agitated breath and turned back to Ludwig, who was walking over.

"There's a douchebag in every family." The German paused and let out a sigh. "Two in mine. They always manage to ruin special occasions." Berwald looked over.

"What am I going to do with him?" he asked. Ludwig smirked.

"He'd make a very handsome throw rug."

"Ludwig." Berwald shared the smirk for a second.

"Just think, whenever he gets dirty, you could take him out and beat him."

The two chuckled and began to walk back to the extravagant household that Berwald owned. Berwald glanced back and noticed that Ivan was still there. The Russian smiled and waved, even with the sickeningly creepy aura rolling off him. Berwald just inclined his head before turning back around.

Ivan slid his hand to his gun and smiled at the thought. He could shoot now; Berwald wasn't looking. No, he wouldn't. He had more class than that and knew if he waited long enough, the perfect time would come. Besides, he would be tracked down by all of Berwald's workers. It was a comforting thought at least and brought a big smile to the Russian's face just thinking about it.

He slid his hand away and just settled on the thought that he would soon enough see the great king crumble and would take his throne. That was enough for now. Ivan turned away and walked off into the night.

Did you like it? Please review, tell me what you think. By the way, I suck at accents so I'm not even trying anymore.