"Alfred, cariño, come over here!" From next to the table of hors d'oeuvres, Antonio excitedly gesticulated at the angel.

Alfred perked up as he made his way over. When he left, Lovino had been yowling insults at a stoic, long-suffering Ludwig while Feliciano wept a small river—"Why do Luddy and fratello never get along? Lovi, please stop telling Luddy to chortle your balls, he doesn't want to, ve!"—and Antonio's sunny greeting was a welcome change in mood. The demon general had always been nice to Alfred, and it had been forever since he last caught up with Antonio. Besides, Alfred had seen neither hide nor hair of Arthur. Maybe Antonio would know where he was?

"Hey, dude! What's up? Have you seen Arthur around?"

Antonio drew Alfred into a tight hug. "Mmm, afraid not. Francis passed by a little bit ago, but he was by himself. Looking for some chardonnay, he said. And things are good! The tomatoes are doing well this year, and Lovi is so cute when he isn't saying mean things or trying to castrate me." He released Alfred and studied the blond with bright emerald eyes. "How are you doing, Alfredo? I've missed seeing you at the palace! Is Ivan treating you well? I'll beat him up with my axe if he isn't. But, dioses míos, did you two dance beautifully! That dip at the end was fantastic!"

Alfred laughed as he was enveloped in a delicious cloud of chocolate and cinnamon. "Yeah! Ivan's great to me. It's kind of funny, actually—"

"Yo, Toni, don't hog Alfred all to yourself!" Gilbert barreled out from behind a group of nobles to join the pair. "Share with the rest of us, wouldya?" Amber and cornflower scented the air.

Alfred grinned broadly, mission to find Arthur temporarily relegated to the back of his mind at the new arrival. "Gil!"

Pulling the former Light general down with an arm slung about his neck, Gilbert playfully rubbed the top of the blond's head with his knuckles. "Hey, Alfie. How's putting up with Icicles? He got rid of that giant one up his ass yet?"

Alfred stuck out his tongue as he wriggled out of the hold. "Don't be mean to Ivan! He's not that cold anymore. I think my halo makes his body temperature higher. Sometimes I have to kick the blankets off at night, or it gets sticky and gross—"

"Oh? Did I hear correctly? Our dear General Braginsky is warming up at last?"

Before Alfred could so much as blink, he was being plucked away from Gilbert and into an embrace that smelled tantalizingly of roses, lemon, and lavender.

"Francis!"

"Ah, mon chéri, how we have missed you!" The demon monarch cried dramatically. "Each morning, as I wake to the biting sarcasm and disapproving frown of our dour Arthur, I lament your absence. Tell me, love, are you brightening General Braginsky's days as you brightened ours?"

"Um, well, I try—Ivan's sad a lot, though… Like, a lot. I miss you, too! And the maids. And Arthur. Hey, do you know where Arthur is?"

"When we last parted, Arthur mentioned that he was going to get some fresh air. You might find him on one of the balconies, darling."

"Oh, thanks!" Alfred burst into a peal of giggles. "Gil, you know I'm ticklish on my sides! Also, Antonio, did you know that your hand is on my butt? And, oh, Francis' hand is there, too. Hey, Francis, this is a great hug, very long, but you can let go now—"

"What are you dirty perverts doing to my brother?" The horrified screech rang through the banquet hall, casting silence over the immediate area and cutting short conversations. The nearby demons tittered, curious at the commotion.

Gilbert's skin paled further as Antonio and Francis both gingerly edged away from Alfred. "Er, Birdie, it's not what it looks like—"

"Gilbert Beilschmidt," Matthew's voice was sweeter than syrup. "I am giving you three seconds before you have to get used to a life without the 'Awesome Five Meters.'"

The crimson-eyed general dropped his hands as if he had been burned and took a generous step towards the hors d'oeuvres table. Gilbert considered the tablecloth thoughtfully. Was his dignity more important than avoiding Matthew's ire? Under the table seemed like an awfully good place to be right now.

Self-preservation battled pride, and the later won out. Gilbert gulped as he met the angel's eyes. Maybe he should have just ducked under real quick…

"J-just an accident, Schatzi. My hands do stuff by themselves. It's, uh, Tourette's. Yeah. You know how it is. Hard to control, Tourette's."

Matthew shook his head in exasperation, fury draining out of him. "Whatever, eh." Gilbert truly was impossible sometimes. "Come on, Alfred. You were looking for Arthur, right? I saw him just a few minutes ago. I'll take you to where he is." Matthew wrapped an arm protectively around his twin and glared at the three demons.

"Really? Thanks, Mattie! It's been so long since we had a chance to talk, what are you up to—? Hi, Ivan! Almost didn't see you there, big guy."

Ivan's answering greeting died on his lips when Alfred's brother shot him a look full of daggers.

Alfred had vanished after their waltz, and Ivan had been searching fruitlessly for his consort for much of the evening. Ivan despised social functions like these, where most of attendees gave him a wide berth. Drawn by the loud noises—Alfred tended to be at the epicenter of them—Ivan had wandered over.

The feeling of dread intensified when Matthew let go of Alfred and leaned in close.

"You know he's a dumbass," the honey blond hissed. "I've got my eye on you, Braginsky."

The platinum blond gave an involuntary shudder. Was that… fear he was feeling?

In the minute that Ivan took to process the unfamiliar emotion, Matthew had shoved Alfred away from the crowd.

"Ah, Fredka—"

"General Braginsky," a silky voice purred against Ivan's ear. "May I borrow you for a minute?"


"I want to, Al, but Gilbert's been worried about the whole 'giving your guest a bed companion' thing. Which, again, is totally messed up."

Alfred pouted. "Can't you come just by yourself? And not stay the night? Ivan's castle isn't that far away. You can totally sneak away for a day."

Matthew sighed. "Gilbert would manage to set something or someone on fire, I know it. And then he'd stutter out an apology, pretend to seem like he did it on purpose, and cry in secret. He's like a big baby, I swear. Besides, I have to balance the household accounts. If I leave for even a day, they'll start to pile up. Gilbert splurges on old war relics when he thinks no one's looking, so I have to be there to stop him."

"Gil lets you be in charge of the finances?" Alfred wilted. "That must be nice."

Matthew patted his brother consolingly on the back. "I'm sure if you bring it up with Ivan—ah, there's Arthur. I should go, before Gilbert does something else stupid, like a keg stand. Antonio and Francis really bring out the worst in him, eh."

"Oof, yeah. That won't end well." Alfred gave Matthew a hug. "Thanks for helping me look for Arthur! Uh, before you go, were you in on it, too?"

"I—um, not really. It was mostly a thing Arthur had with the Vargases." Matthew gnawed at the inside of his cheek. "Take care of yourself, Al. And don't be too hard on Arthur. You know, I think he was actually right about some things—oh, gods, Gilbert found a keg. Bye!" The honey blond disappeared, neatly avoiding any further questions.

With a huff of dismay, Alfred opened the airy French doors that led to the balcony.

Arthur straightened from where he had been reclining against the balustrade, expression impassive. "There you are. I was wondering when you would show up. Never very good with time, were you?"

"Hello to you, too," Alfred groused, crossing his arms. "So, want to tell me why you committed treason?"

Arthur snorted. "Spoken to Lovino, have we. You should know better than to believe everything he says. You're too damn gullible, that's your problem."

The blue-eyed angel bristled. "Are you gonna tell me what happened, then? Or are you just going to insult me for the rest of the night?"

Arthur ignored him in lieu of giving the wine in his glass a swirl. The older angel took a sip and crinkled his nose. "Bah, gave me a pint of good ale instead. Or some whisky. None of this French crap. The frog never brings out the nicer vintages for these ridiculous events, anyway."

Gaze still locked on the depths of the Pinot Noir, Arthur inclined his head in Alfred's direction. "What do you think happened?"

"If you don't give me a straight answer, I'm going to chuck both you and your stupid wine over the balcony—"

Alfred's furious threat was cut short when Arthur grabbed a handful of his hair and dragged him down into a searing kiss.

The emerald-eyed angel broke away and licked his lips slowly, savoring the taste. "For someone so brilliant, you were always remarkably daft when it came to certain things, lad."

For a few long seconds, Alfred stared at him. The golden blond's fingertips crept up to graze his slightly swollen lips. "You didn't…" Eyes narrowing, Alfred gripped Arthur's lapels and shoved him against the balustrade. "This is exactly why the laws were in place. For me, you betrayed all of Heaven? Because you wanted to be selfish, you sacrificed all of our people? Arthur, you fucking idiot—"

"Oh, belt up, you prat," Arthur snapped as he uncurled Alfred's fingers from around his neck. The spark of raw hurt in his eyes dissipated. "As if what you did for Matthew was any different. Besides, I had other motives. The war was going nowhere. What scant territory we were able to gain, the demons recovered the following week, if not the next day. And the losses kept on piling up. If you were listening at all during the meetings, you would know how many soldiers we lost to the Underworld's pleasure industries: about as many as the demons we killed.

"It was unsustainable. It was a foolish war that had gone on for far too long. And all for what? A few more acres of arable land? Additional levies to enrich the coffers? Hardly worth it. Francis agreed. We had been meeting, ah, discretely, for several centuries by that point. Now, don't look at me like that. We are mature enough to separate the personal from the professional, thank you very much. The frog isn't half bad company once you get a few drinks in him.

"After a particularly terrible week—oh, what was it? When the war was almost at the thirty-year mark?—I suggested a proposal. A compromise of sorts. I would offer my aid. Within reason, obviously. In return, the Dark side would stop enslaving angels indiscriminately and begin to retreat from Heaven. Francis accepted, much to my surprise.

"Then, of course, you went completely madand everything went to shit. Francis had promised his council that the losses would be kept to a minimum, and there you were, mowing down row after row of demon soldiers. Killing those who had already surrendered." Arthur clicked his tongue. "Really, Alfred. What were you thinking? On second thought, never mind. I doubt a single thought passed through that empty head of yours after you saw the opportunity to conjure your ludicrous firearms. I did the best I could to salvage a hopeless situation, and here we are. Consorts, willingly or not."

Shoulders slumping, Arthur tilted back his glass of wine. "Here we are," he murmured. "But at least here, we will not be executed for love."


"—So when dear Arthur made the offer, you could have knocked me over with a feather. You must understand why we invested so many precious resources—money, manpower, the future of our kingdom, really—into the war in the first place, mon ami."

"Was it not for the territory? Heaven's wealth is famed throughout the realms. I assumed…"

Francis laughed. "Gods, no. You have not seen too much of Heaven yourself, surely, stationed as you were on the outskirts. Heaven is a horribly unpleasant place to be. The tundra, where you were, is far preferable, in my opinion, to Heaven proper—a desolate desert wasteland in which the rare oasis is scattered. No, mon chér, we did not wage the war for land. It was vital that we win the war so that we may acquire Heaven's other treasures."

Treasures… Ivan's eyes widened. "The war was for the generals?"

A pleased look came over Francis' face. "Very good, General Braginsky!" He praised. "Yes, they are how the angels came to possess such wealth and power as it has. Heaven has always placed a tremendous emphasis on cultivating the talents of its residents. Its education system is light years beyond what we have in the Underworld, but also utterly ruthless and impersonal in its methods. The generals were identified as the most promising of their peers early on, when they were still children, and taken into a very strict system where they were made to achieve and exceed the apex in their respective specialities. I do not think it is an exaggeration to consider them the crown jewels of Heaven. Much better in our crown, no?

"Have you not wondered how the demonic regime has been able to expand its reach so quickly, so successfully, within the recent year? Arthur has an exceptional mind for military tactics and strategy. No demon I've ever met has been able to compare. In fact, I would not be surprised if no equal exists among all the realms."

"But why did you capture Alfred? Not that I am complaining that you spared his life," Ivan added hastily. "It only sounds like your plans centered around Arthur."

Francis hummed. "Alfred, the sweet boy, has his many talents as well. And Arthur… Arthur retains some feelings of fondness towards his protégé. Seeing as how stubborn Alfred was, however, I was worried that he would intentionally sabotage the tasks I set out for him. I thought it safest if he were a pleasure slave in the palace, where Arthur and I could keep an eye on him. I had not anticipated your interest in him, but you seem to be treating him well. Alfred looks more… carefree, now, than before.

"I had hoped that we would be able to secure three of the generals at best: the Vargas brothers, seeing as how they were assigned to infiltrate the Underworld. And Arthur, of course. I am thrilled—beyond delighted—that we have Alfred and Matthew with us. I have no doubt that with them on our side, the demonic reign will usher in a new era of prosperity."

Francis' lips quirked upwards in a grin. "You have done very well, Ivan, in your handling of the last stronghold. Or, rather, I should be thanking you for how you handled Alfred. You will be richly rewarded in the days to come. Lord Braginsky… That has a certain ring to it, non?"

"You honor me, my king," Ivan bowed his head. "I was only fulfilling my duties. If I may ask… Do the angels know about this?"

"Call me Francis! The formalities are unnecessary, mon ami," Francis waved an airy hand. "I have been saying this for a while now. And Arthur suspects, I am sure." The monarch's gaze suddenly sharpened. "I would ruminate carefully before you mention anything to Alfred. He would be happier, I think, without the burden of such knowledge. Speaking of Alfred—why don't you go search for him before he lands in some fresh trouble? The darling has a knack for finding it."


Alfred was on one of the balconies, and when Ivan pushed open the door, the angel turned with a startled flutter of the wings.

"Oh, Ivan!"

"Fredka." Crossing over to his consort, Ivan dipped down to give Alfred a kiss in greeting. He stopped short as a barrage of different scents hit him. Vanilla, sandalwood, lavender, cinnamon, amber, jasmine… most prominent of all was rose.

The demon curled an arm possessively about Alfred. "Francis molested you," he snarled.

"He touched me on the butt, but he does that with everyone. It's Francis!"

"No, he doesn't, Alfred."

Alfred grimaced as Ivan's arm tightened around his waist. Ivan was strong, and when he got angry, sometimes he forgot exactly how strong he was. "It's fine, Ivan. He's harmless. Also, could you please maybe not blow out my back tonight? My ass is still sore and also I really want the maids to give me the deets on Jacques' latest breakup. I heard that he got dumped again, the loser, haha."

Ivan sighed and loosened his hold. He didn't want to hurt his consort. Besides, there was no standing between Alfred and his gossip—the golden blond was an one-angel force of nature who could put the trashiest of demon tabloids to shame. "Da, da," he mumbled, planting a tender kiss to the top of Alfred's fluffy head.

"Thanks, Vanya! You're the best." Swiping his tongue to get Arthur's rose scent off of his lips, Alfred stretched up to peck Ivan on the nose.


"Why so grave, mes amies?" Francis chuckled nervously to diffuse the tension in the room. A sea of faces—ranging from baleful to furious to terrified—met him as he entered the guest parlor, Arthur close behind.

"What's the plan for tonight, Bonnefoy?" Gilbert demanded, one hand entwined with Matthew's. The angel's outwardly calm demeanor was betrayed by the slight trembling of his chin. "If you're sticking to the ancient codes of hospitality, Birdie and I are leaving tonight."

"I'm with Gil! I like Lovi a lot," Antonio chimed in. Seated by his side, Lovino rolled his eyes. "If I have to sleep with someone else, I won't do it! No offense, Alfred."

"None taken!" Alfred was practically bouncing with excitement at seeing Emma and Lucille soon. Sweet, sweet gossip

After sending Antonio a dark glare that had the other general quaking in his chair, Ivan shifted forward so that the full brunt of his menacing aura could be felt by the demon monarch.

Across from Ivan, Feliciano hiccupped in fear. If Feliciano had to sleep with Ivan, then Feliciano would be torn apart. He'd never be able to eat pasta again. The brunet clutched at one of Ludwig's strong, muscular arms like a lifeline at the distressing thought.

"Oy, are you serious? You didn't tell them yet?" Arthur shook his head in disgust. "All right, you lot, there's been a revision to the ancient demon codes. The frog and I swung it by the council this morning. Bedmates are only offered to honored guests who do not already have a companion. I can't believe this wasn't part of the code already… You're all buffoons. Idiots, each and every one of you," Arthur muttered none too quietly under his breath. "Enough of your whinging, now—what is it, Carriedo? What could you possibly have to contribute to this discussion?"

Antonio timidly lowered his hand from where it had been raised. "Am I a buffoon, too, Arturo?"

"Yes," Arthur spat. "Especially you."

Antonio whimpered, hurt, as Lovino laughed at him.

And that's a wrap! A lot of loose plot-related ends should be tied up now. If something is unclear or you're wondering about anything, send me an ask on Tumblr! A heads-up: in the next fic, the boys hit rock bottom and then some. It is not a happy story, but it advances Alfred and Ivan's relationship in a crucial way. There will a lot of tears and also a lot of nice kisses and hugs. It will be so dark, it will make Orion Complex look like pure fluff. Please be warned!

Next time—dance pop as Alfred hits the cluuurb:

- All the Dua Lipa. All of it.

- Flume – Never Be Like You

- Kiiara – Gold

- Alan Walker – All Falls Down

It's going to be crazy emotional roller coaster, get the tissues ready, lovelies.

i'm so tired please feed me fanart