Blood Contract | Diavolo X Reader

8| Little One

The sun scurries over the distant hills and ignites the room in a burning red, bleeding through the windows in a heavy light bearing down onto the devils child of innocence. 

The grave just outside grows green shoots of untold decay, and nightfall comes soon with its chill and stars speckling the sky like burning white freckles. 

Doppio stands awkwardly in the middle of what he thinks is the living room, though the place is entirely too big to be sure. It's modern, its sleek, and everything looks all too expensive. He fears the air he breaths is of some wealth too, and that his wallet is too thin to even allow a gasp.

"I've prepared a room for you, just down the way." (Y/n) speaks as their eyes are elsewhere, looking at something down a hall Doppio couldn't see. "Trish has a separate room, unless you prefer her by your side."

A smile nearly sewn into their lips, it was fake in every sort. Just as he recognized it, so did Trish, who curled away from them in his arms, and shut her eyes tight like they were a monster to wish away.

The underboss again looked to Diavolo, wondering, what to do. Diavolo made no move to instruct him from where he sat idle on a chair in the corner, instead blatantly flipping off (Y/n) from behind their back.

"Well, I'd guess it's up to Trish to decide." The girl only held tighter to him with those words. "...But it looks like she's staying with me."

"Perfectly fine, Foo Fighters will lead the way."

Someone with jagged green hair and and all too pale skin came into view, gnawing at the end of a straw long used as they drank something from a massive gas station cup. The sound of the liquid swishing disappeared down the hall with Doppio as he left to his room, or as he imagined it, his prison cell.

The politician was quick to turn their attention towards the bastard in the room, eyeing their watch. "It's almost your bedtime, you fucking child. What are you still doing up?"

"Don't you call me a child again, you piece of shit. What the hell did I do?"

"I found a bullet next to my pillowcase. Want to explain?"

"Oh. That wasn't me." He took a long sip of his tea, hiding his smile. 

"Is that so?" They stuffed their hands into their pockets. "Ah, you're right, it couldn't be, because we've both long figured out that pointless efforts shouldn't be made, especially efforts like that."

"Of course, so don't accuse me."

Their sarcasm dropped. "The gun was on your nightstand, Diavolo."

"That was Risottos." He quickly says back.

"Really? Goodness," They turn on their heel and go to leave the room. "My mistake, then."

Again, they were graced with all that is Diavolos middle finger as they walked off, trailing after Doppio; something he didn't realize until he heard a small girls scream.

He groaned at the sound of Trish's panic and rose from his seat sharply, slamming his feet as he made his way to the source. Of course, such a stupid and useless politician such as (Y/n) would use someone's child against them, because that's just how low they are.

He calls his daughters name once, twice, and doesn't hear any sort of call return. Anger only grew as frustration amassed into a pulsing emotion in his chest, and he picks up the pace.

Swinging around the corner of the door, he expects Trish to have some sort of broken bone, or maybe find her victim to (Y/n)s revenge, a bullet through her head like he tried to do them.

Instead, Trish is sitting on her bed, doing nothing with no harm done as both her and (Y/n) stare curiously at Doppio, who was curled into a little ball on the floor.

"Trish," He says, ignoring his shaking assistant. "What's wrong? What happened?"

She picks her head up from where it stared at a doll in her hands. "Nothing, why?"

"I heard you scream."

"That wasn't me," The girl points to the weak man trembling on the carpet. "Mx. (Y/n) scared Mr. Vinegar."

The politician looked to her with a grin. "Yes, I'm very sneaky, aren't I?"

"Very!"

Diavolo redirected his gaze to Doppio and scowled, taking a moment to kick the man in his side as he yelled, "Goddamn idiot! Don't you do that again!"

Doppio pulled in on himself. Still angry, he again slammed his foot into his side, giving him a real reason to act like a little bitch, and scowled when he actually heard him whimper. Real pathetic, he thought, delivering yet another blow before turning to (Y/n).

"I want you to stay away from him, and my daughter. Don't even come into this room, you prick." 

They cocked their head to the side, remaining quiet as they waited for him to notice. It took him a moment, quite a long moment at that, to figure out their sudden silence, and why they spent it with such muse.

It only took him looking at the now empty spot on the bed for it to finally click. The politician shifted to further hide Trish behind their silhouette, doing so in such an obvious way that Diavolo was sure to notice. And he did.

When Trish had taken the opportunity to flee her spot on the bed, he wasn't sure. She was there one moment then gone the next. And hadn't she seemed frightful of the politician before? For what reason was she suddenly so friendly?

"Did you hear me? I said you better never come in here again." He repeated, panicked at the thought of his daughter taking any liking at all to them. 

"Me? I shouldn't come into here?" They laughed, kneeling down to the girls height. "Maybe you should mind your place just as well, Diavolo. You've frightened the poor thing."

He watched with disdain as one of their hands came up to pet Trish's head, stroking the wily pink curls of her hair as they moved to pick her up.

"Don't you dare touch her. Remove your filthy hands immediately."

Such anger only entertained them, and with how bored they were, of course they wanted more-- Soon cradling her in their arms like they were nothing else but a loving parent.

"What are you gonna do? Scare her even more?" They laughed. 

"No, I'm gonna have Risotto shred you to filth."

"He's out today, you stupid shit. And you just pummeled the only other person capable of hurting me that's on your side." Their eyes flicked to Doppio, who was weakly fighting for balance to stand. "Most unfortunate."

"I can still burn this place to the ground, and take you with it."

"I know you wouldn't dare do such a thing, not when this is the only safe place for your daughter." (Y/n) made a move to cover the girls ears. "Not when I have the capability of tipping off those people about her whereabouts."

"You won't do that, especially when I hold the key the breaking your career apart."

"Isn't that how this came to be? Constantly holding a knife to each others throats," They sat Trish back onto her bed carefully. "I love how we dance around each other like this. I wonder what else will be revealed for us to use against each other."

"One of these days, I'm going to find out something about you, and I'm not going to hesitate to use it to bring around your end."

"Careful with what you say, Diavolo. How do you know I don't have something like that about you? Wekapipo is very resourceful."

The mobster went quiet. He blinked. He clenched his teeth and flexed his jaw. "You don't have shit on me."

"I have more than you think. That's all I will say." They didn't stay any longer for his reply. "I have a meeting at five. I'll be gone for an hour."

"I hope you trip on the concrete and break your jaw." He called after them.

No similarly snarky comment came back in return. If anything, he could've sworn he heard them laugh, though it was nothing to dwell on. 

One hour is long enough to set the penthouse on fire, right?