broken wings//stone heart

don't forget me now that you're gone ✚ diablo | 35 | owns 'green dragon'

[aclashofcaps]

[aclashofcaps]

[greatestcriminalrat-blog]

House-Call || {Diablo & Ratigan}

[greatestcriminalrat-blog]

          His begging was like music to his ears, and Padraic was tickled at how much the man and his voice shook in utter terror. “No, no, you sounded like you meant it. If you’re going to make such a bold statement, then you might as well stand behind it.” He waited, staring at the bartender as he did, for him to reveal the name of this woman who would be so disappointed. But the name he said took Padraic aback instantly, which was clear by the look of surprise on his face. Meg had been speaking to Diablo about him? About the night they met at the diner? Not only that…but she thought he was a gentleman? Padraic had pulled out all the stops in order to impress the Grecian queen, so of course he’d been on his best behavior around her. It was nice to know that his efforts were well-received. But, of course, this posed a problem. Because now he was caught in the middle of two very different personalities he displayed: the gentlemanly, sophisticated aristocrat, and the cruel, unyielding crime lord. And one of them was bound to get him in trouble if he let it come to the light. Diablo had successfully caused the older man to second-guess himself. Which was quite a feat, considering how unflinching Padraic normally was.

          Ratigan just stood there, his eyes narrowed as he mulled over Diablo’s words. She said you were a gentleman. She insisted you were a nice person. After several long seconds, Padraic drew the blade away from the bartender’s nose with a flick of his wrist, which managed to nick it like a paper-cut. “A gentleman? Is that so?” A smile tugged on the corners of his lips as Padraic looked over at Harrison, pulling an impressed look on his face, which was met with a half-roll of his assistant’s eyes. “Well, that’s rather flattering,” Padraic pushed on Diablo’s legs to make room for himself, sitting on the edge of the low coffee table with his hands on his knees and one still clutching his blade. “And I would so hate for that delightful young woman to think any lesser of me for hurting her employer.” Ratigan gently pressed the tip of his finger to the tip of the blade, slowly twisting the weapon in thought as he studied Diablo’s swollen, bloodied face. He was quiet, very quiet, for what felt like hours but could only have been a few minutes. Finally, he stilled his hands and drew in a slow, deep breath. Was he really going to risk his chance at a crown for a little bit of sadistic pleasure? No, of course he wasn’t. Which was really quite disappointing. He was looking forward to putting the fear of god into this man. “You…you make a very good point, Mr. Fée,” the older man murmured, watching the bartender for his reaction. Glancing down at Diablo’s legs, Padraic swept his tongue across his teeth before suddenly raising his blade and bringing it down just as quickly. But rather than jab Diablo with it, the blade sank deep into the wood of the table, squarely between the bartender’s legs. “So!” he stated as the knife was buried into the table, then placed his hands on his knees and hunched over as he gazed at Diablo. “How are we going to fix this, my boy? How do you plan on giving me money that you, apparently, do not possess?”

[stoneheartedminion-blog]

The moment the knife was swept away from his nose, Diablo breathed out a shallow exhale of relief; he didn’t even feel the sting of the cut on his nose. At least not right away. But he still needed to save his skin at this point, so he had to keep the older man from turning on him again. Diablo nodded desperately, his head practically falling off his shoulders from how hard he did it. “O-Oui, un gentilhomme…” the dark-eyed bartender whispered, almost pleading in tone as he stared at Ratigan. His attention briefly darted to the man holding him down, only to return to Ratigan when the man pushed his feet to the side. A rebellious and self-preserving desire to kick the old man in the side did briefly cross Diablo’s mind…however, he knew better than to do something so stupid, especially since he was still in such a compromising position. As Ratigan began to rethink his plan, Diablo continued to nod as if to encourage the effort. “I-I know for a fact that Meg would…she would be so upset if something were to happen to me.” This part wasn’t a lie; he knew the lounge singer well enough to know that they weren’t just friends…they were practically family. And just as Diablo would defend Meg, he knew the girl would do the very same for him. “So…p-please reconsider, Monsieur Ratigan…”

There was silence between them, Diablo trembling like a leaf while he watched the older man press his fingertip to the blade and twist it in thought. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the older man caved. Diablo’s body sagged on the table with relief, closing his eyes. He lay there for a moment longer like that, thanking the powers that be for this miracle, and had just opened his eyes to respond when he saw Ratigan staring at his legs. And then, suddenly the knife was up in the air and coming straight down at him. Swearing, Diablo wouldn’t have had enough time to move at the speed Ratigan was bringing that knife down, but it was clear by the fact that he’d lodged it between his knees that the older man wasn’t aiming to stab him. Yet. Diablo groaned, his head falling back as he closed his eyes again. He bit down on his bottom lip, hard, trying to think of a response to the intimidating man that didn’t sound like yet another excuse or trying to save his own skin. “I-I don’t…I don’t have the money but I-I can get it to you,” Diablo finally hissed, squeezing his eyes shut harder. “I can…I can charge more for the drinks. I’ll ask the boys and Meg to take a pay cut…j-just enough to get you the money…” After all, it wasn’t fair that his employees couldn’t eat just because of Diablo’s mistakes. “I’ll beg on the streets if I have to…just, please, please give me more time!”

[wornleatherthoughts]

Michael Raymond James: It’s impossible not to love him.

[greciansongbird]

Birthday Surprise | Megara and Diablo

[greciansongbird]

Smiling Meg shook her head. “Don’t worry. You know I’ll come to you if I ever run into trouble.There are very few in this town that I trust and you’re at the top of the list.” Letting out a laugh she playfully hit his shoulder. “You will not!” She laughed. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t mention it at all.” She was just teasing him. She didn’t picture Diablo as someone who was capable of blackmailing anyone. He was too kindhearted for anything like that.

"I’m not quite happy, not just yet. But you know me, I got a lot of fight in me, I won’t stop until I get there. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be alright." She assured him. Sipping from her cup she listened to him go on about how lucky he knew that he was. "I’m sure she knows how much she means to you. Women have a knack for picking up on that sort of thing, even if sometimes we want to no believe it. That probably helps things work out in your favor." They seemed like a good fit, him and his girl, at least from what she observed. Meg never got much time to really interact with them together or with Morgana at all.  "Don’t worry bro, I’ll take good care of the place.  The patrons are a different story but that all depends on their behavior." She added with a wink.

Her face pulled into a frown as he started to talk. She could tell that this was a difficult subject for him with the way that he rambled and tripped over his words.  Then it clicked. “Oooh. You mean the clothing optional part of being in a relationship.” Clearing her throat she smiled at him. “Well…we could talk about that.  Not so sure this is the place to discuss it.”

[stoneheartedminion-blog]

“Good. You better,” he said in his most intimidating tone. Which, honestly, was not that threatening; Diablo had a hard time sounding intimidating, even at his worst. Meg’s assurance of trust did bring a smile to his face, though. Diablo laughed as well when she balled up her fist and punched his shoulder. “Fine, fine! Je me rends…” He held up both hands in a surrendering gesture. “No blackmail, no trouble with Ratigan…no bringing up his daughter. Just…be careful,” he added, sighing at her. “Guys say a lot of things to get sympathy, you know. I’m not saying he’s faking this but…well…you know they are,” he murmured.

Diablo snorted softly. “Yeah I know you do. I should have put you in charge of throwing guys out of the bar instead of Khan or Adam or Rajah. Though,” he scrunched his face slightly, “none of them can sing…or look good in a dress…so maybe it’s better that they do the manhandling…” He smiled softly at her as she agreed and it lightened his heart a bit. He always worried about not showing his feelings to Morgana enough. It’s not that he didn’t want to…he just didn’t know how. But knowing that, for now, Morgana probably understood what his intentions were made him feel a little more relieved. He laughed again, and shook his head. “Please don’t kill the guys…they’re the only way I make my money, after all.”

Blushing, Diablo gave her a look that read “Why did you need to say it that way?” before ducking his head.

“Yeah…that.” As she cleared her throat, he glanced up again and sighed when she offered to talk about it somewhere else. Diablo drummed his fingertips against the table, nodding faintly; it was probably a good idea to get out of that crowded cafe…no one else in there needed to know about his concerns, after all. “O-Okay, then…let’s go for a walk. Maybe to the park?” The park was relatively secluded these days, so that seemed like the best option. He pushed back in his seat and pressed to a stand, grabbing his coffee cup. “You can finish your breakfast while we walk.”

[fromtheshoreofthesea]

Masquerade | Morgana and Diablo

[fromtheshoreofthesea]

The man’s voice startled her, only because she recognized it and hadn’t been expecting to. “Diablo!” She greeted happily,  She looked him over as he complimented her. “Thank you, monsieur.” Her hands gripped her skirt lightly and shifted it from side to side in a bashful flowing motion.  “Je pourrais dire la même chose pour vous , vous regardez si beau." She’d learned a great deal of french from the time she spent from Diablo and the words that she didn’t know weren’t hard to learn with the proper research. For some reason now seemed like the perfect place to display the language she’d learned for and because of him. Getting to take on a different persona for the sake of her costume was probably why it seemed so perfect. His face was still bruised, but she ignored it. He’d told her that he got hit in the crossfire while breaking up a fight at Dragon. Or maybe she just assumed, she couldn’t quite remember, but either way, he was fine now and she knew he didn’t want to talk about it so she wouldn’t force him to. "Have you been here long, ma chérie?”

[stoneheartedminion-blog]

Smiling at Morgana, Diablo shuffled over towards her and watched as she smiled at him and showed off her dress. His eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, however, the moment he heard his native tongue leave her lips. Morgana was a quick learner when it came to learning his mother language, and hearing it come from her only made it sound more beautiful. Even if she didn’t pronounce every word correctly, and even if she struggled with some phrases, Diablo thought it sounded perfect. “Merci.” His shy gaze was focused on her for a few seconds until Diablo found himself glancing down at the ground. “Your French keeps getting better,” he added, peeking up at her through his mask as he smiled. 

The man shook his head, lowering his mask down onto his face again. “Non, I sort of just got here. I was looking for someone familiar to talk to…either Meg, or maybe Rajah or Adam or Khan…but,” he grinned wider and leaned in to press a kiss against her cheek, “I’m glad it was you that I crossed paths with first, chère.”

[greciansongbird]

Birthday Surprise | Megara and Diablo

[greciansongbird]

"Maybe that’s a good thing?" She asked looking over at him. "If I have to know some version of him, isn’t it better that I know the side that he showed me rather than what you’ve seen? You’d probably be more upset if that were the case and I’d hate to give you a reason to go after anyone with torches and pitchforks." That was part of the reason why Meg refused to acknowledge the fact that Diablo and her weren’t related by blood. He acted like an older brother. He was very protective of her and he wasn’t afraid to chase guys away when he knew that they had no business being in her company. She didn’t get a chance to really get to know the brothers that she did have. Actually one of them passed on before she’d even been born. The way Diablo treated her made her feel like that’s what it would have been like if her brothers had been around when she was growing up. Maybe then she wouldn’t have had such terrible experiences with men.  "He doesn’t like to talk about it. I probably shouldn’t have even told you. Please, don’t mention that."

She laughed. She knew it was impossible but hey, a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do. “At least I’m fortunate enough to have a boss that doesn’t scold me for being late. You’re very understanding.” The smile on her lips curled upwards as he reassured her that she’d be fine on her own in case she wasn’t able to find anyone else. “Thanks bro. It’s not really a concern of mine. Love isn’t a necessity. The only thing that I need is to be happy. And I can have that with or without love.”  He answered her about how things were with him and his girlfriend. She gave an impressed look. “She’s not mad at you for not spending time with her? That’s something you should consider yourself lucky for. Most girls I know would throw a fit for their boyfriends not making time for them. But yeah, whatever you need. You know I’m always here to lend an ear or a hand if you need one.”  She took another pull from her drink, listening as he elaborated on what he needed from her. “You mean, you wanna know if I’d be willing to skip out on getting on the stage and hide behind the bar? Oh brother dear, I don’t think I could accept that offer fast enough.”  A laugh escaped her as she offered him a wink. “Have fun, spend some much needed time with your girlfriend. I’ll make sure Dragon is taken care of. And it means a lot to me that you’d even consider asking.” She knew how much he loved his bar. She didn’t quite understand some of the little quirks he had in regards to the place, but she understood that Dragon was his and he was proud of it the way that it was. She wouldn’t change a thing.  He mentioned having to talk to her about something before the date night and she met his gaze. “Of course. What’s up?”

[stoneheartedminion-blog]

Diablo smiled at the other girl; she had a good head on her shoulders. It was moments like this that he remembered just how good she was at keeping a level head about things. "I guess. As long as he treats you like a gentleman," Diablo said, his tone almost warning-like, "because otherwise you just tell me and I'll go teach him some manners." He was protective of her, especially when it came to the kinds of guys that she tended to attract. None of them ever seemed to treat her like a proper lady, and it always irked him. He brought his coffee cup to his lips, drinking a bit of it as she went on to warn him not to mention the fact she'd revealed to him. Raising one of his hands, he waved her off. "Alright, alright. I won't mention it. I'll just keep it for blackmail purposes," he said, giving Meg a mischievous smile.

Shrugging, Diablo grinned as she called him understanding. He knew that compared to Hades, he must be a saint when it came to her employers. He shook his head at her, mostly out of amusement. "Well I want you to be happy. As long as you know what makes you happy…then you're a step ahead of most people." Himself included. He barked out a laugh, surprised at how surprised Meg was. "No she's not mad. I mean, at least, she doesn't say it out loud. And believe me…I…I know I'm lucky. Really lucky. She's not like most girls," he said, his voice softening a touch. Morgana was the most understanding girl he knew, outside of Meg. But he knew better than to take advantage of that fact. He did what he could to spend time with Morgana. Plus, she was usually at the bar all the time, so he spent every free second he could with her between orders. Smiling wider, he could hear the relief in her voice at the idea of not having to perform if she took over the bar for the night. "Yeah I should have known you couldn't say no to that. And thanks," he added. "I'm sure you will take good care of her. If not, you and I are gonna have words," he uttered in a mock-threatening tone. He knew that Meg wouldn't disappoint him, though. 

Diablo sighed as she agreed to help him out and, looking around the cafe, he felt heat creeping up on his cheeks. "I, uh…I just had a few questions about…certain things." He made sure his voice was low, barely audible except to her. "I-I mean, you'd probably know about this stuff more than I would. I just…" he hesitated, his brown eyes turning towards her again, clearly filled with nervousness and a touch of embarrassment. "She asked me to spend the night at her place…a-and I've never really…I've never…" Diablo's voice trailed off as his blush became more prominent. He hoped she understood without him having to spell things out for her.

[nolongeraurora-deactivated20150]

Late to the Ball / Aurora and Diablo

Hovering just outside the masquerade doors, Aurora could hear the music softly wafting out, spilling into the night air beautifully and making her sway in tune. She’d not gone in yet, mask in hand though hanging loosely by her side. Truth be told she was a bit nervous, simply gathering enough courage to brave the masked faces inside, the flurry of strangers and unknown souls hidden behind paper and paint. They were all beautiful, she’d been watching them walk in for a little while now, smiling politely if not a little shyly at them, dressed for the occasion just as she had and hoping for a night to remember. She wasn’t hoping for much, some fun perhaps, a nice dance. Letting her mind wander, Aurora fantasied about dancing with a masked man, handsome and polite, leading her across the floor while her dress swayed around her, just as it did once upon a dream. 

It wasn’t until someone was speaking to her did she snap out of her small daydream, a blush as red as her lips rushing into her cheeks like wildfire while her bright blue eyes sought out whomever it was. “Excusez-moi— je - I - I wasn’t paying attention I’m terribly sorry. Come again?”

[stoneheartedminion-blog]

In order to dull his nerves about the party, Diablo had consumed at least three glasses of champagne and some hard cider. He was feeling a little light-headed, but the man was in good spirits, for the most part. He gazed around the room, blinking blearily up at the lights as the music played loudly in his ears. He took a sip of his cider, wetting his lips with his tongue to sweep up any beads of drink left behind, and stared into his cup for a moment. "…not bad. Not bad at all." He was usually quite picky about his drinks, quick to condemn any that weren't personally served by him or his bar; whoever had made the drinks for the ball, however, had done a great job. 

He heard someone quietly speak up, barely catching her French as he swung his head around to find the source of the voice. "Huh? Oh, I was just saying the drinks were…" Diablo met the gaze of the girl who had spoken, and immediately his stomach sank to his feet. Blinking, he heard the girl's voice swirling in his head as he quickly gazed down at his feet. Of all the people to run into at this place. And, though he was still upset after their last run-in, Diablo also felt a tremendous amount of shame for his actions; screaming at the girl while she was working, in front of all those people, was a terrible idea. He'd only made himself look foolish and petty. He adjusted his black mask, twisted shapes framing his face, and scratched nervously at the bruise on his jaw. "I was talking about the drinks," he murmured softly, praying that the girl was too distracted by everything around her to realize who she was talking to. Maybe he'd be able to sneak away if that were the case.

[fromtheshoreofthesea]

Masquerade | Morgana and Diablo

Morgana felt like a fish out of water. This was definitely out of her element. Getting all dressed up and attending parties. She wasn’t really sure she should be there, but it sounded like fun if all went as planned so it was worth a try.  Walking around the ballroom she looked around at the festive decorations. The fake spiderwebs and the streamers that were black and orange and purple. The place definitely had a spooky atmosphere. She could only hope that people would be more occupied with looking at the decorations than they would be looking at her. She felt very over dressed in her black gown, Though, maybe it was the green paint that covered every inch of skin visible that made her feel out of place. Morgana had gone for a combination of costume and formal wear and she didn’t see anyone else that seemed to have the same idea.  She ran her fingers through her hair that were draped over her shoulder, Exposing the part of her head that was shaved. Not seeing anyone she knew, or at least unable to recognize them she moved over to the wall to wait for someone to show up.  There was someone already along the wall feeling the pressure of not talking to them she decided to break it. “It was nice of them to put this together, don’t you think? I’ve never been to a ball before.”

[stoneheartedminion-blog]

Diablo didn't like this feeling, the feeling of being in a giant crowd of people he rarely saw outside of the bar (if he ever saw them at all to begin with). He didn't feel comfortable in crowds, and parties worried him most of all. But at least he was trying. But now he'd just settled on shuffling awkwardly along a wall, staring at people from the background while nibbling on some food he'd taken from one of the tables. He saw a figure in his peripherals, but tried not to look that way while he focused on his feet on the floor. However, he heard the person speak and instantly recognized the voice; turning, Diablo was caught off guard when he saw a striking beauty of green skin and golden hair, dressed in an elegant black ensemble. He knew it was Morgana, but something about seeing her with that lovely shade of green flesh sparked old memories in the man's mind, memories he had long thought were dead and buried in the past, along with the mistress he mourned. Blinking slowly, Diablo lifted his mask off of his face, seeing as Morgana clearly didn't know it was him. He smiled, perhaps for the first time this evening, and gave a small shake of his head. "Neither have I. But you look…" he paused, still blinking as he struggled to put into word his thoughts. "You look so pretty, I wouldn't have guessed that you've never been to one of these before."

[alicexdowntherabbithole-blog]

Party Lights|| Alice and Diablo

The endless sea of masks was disconcerting, yet at the same time vaguely comforting. It was a strange sort of conundrum. No one knew who you were, yet you also didn’t know anyone was. The party though, the party was wonderful. Never before had she really liked them, but this was her first one in Grimmsvale. It was a fresh start and a chance to not make a fool of herself at one for once.

The blonde craned her head looking for someone, anyone she might know. To no avail she huffed and pushed a stray piece of hair away from her face. She navigated her way to the sides of the room, attempting to get a way from the thick of the crowd. “It’s almost surprising how many people can out. Though I suppose things such as this don’t happen very often.” She said to someone beside her.

[stoneheartedminion-blog]

Diablo scratched the top of his head, frowning as he was bumped into by someone, but otherwise just keeping his eyes on the crowd as he tried to find people he recognized. He heard a voice beside him and, glancing over, blinked behind his gnarled black mask. "No, not really. I mean, usually there's not a lot of big events and things going on." He gestured to the decorated ballroom. "So this kind of stuff is  big deal." He looked back down at the girl, not really recognizing her. Then again, she didn't look like the type to frequent his bar, so that wasn't really too surprising.

[stoneheartedminion-blog]

Masquerade Ball // Open

Diablo nervously shifted from one foot to the other, a small glass of half-drained punch in one hand while the other was stuffed in his pocket. He didn't have much by way of a costume, just a nice button-up black shirt and pants. His most elaborate accessory, however, had to be the intricate mask he wore. He wasn't planning on wearing one to the masquerade…in fact he wasn't even planning on attending. He was still nervous after his shakedown by Ratigan, and his face still sported an unpleasant-looking bruise on his jaw, but he'd just hope that everyone simply assumed it was part of his "costume." After a few moments of people-watching, Diablo looked upwards once another song started and frowned for a moment. He wasn't really up on modern music, not unless it was something he could give to Meg to sing for her set. Reaching out gently to the nearest person in front of him, he hesitated a moment before lightly tapping their shoulder from behind. "Excuse me…d-do you know the name of this song?"

[greatestcriminalrat-blog]

House-Call || {Diablo & Ratigan}

[greatestcriminalrat-blog]

          Smirking, Padraic puffed away on his cigarette as he watched Diablo writhe in pain on the floor. Lord, he missed moments like this. He missed having the power to utterly destroy someone. Here in Grimmsvale, his power was limited, but he had enough of it to get away with incidents like this. The police wouldn’t touch him, and Oswald and Ortensia wouldn’t get involved either. So it was nice to feel like he was in charge of people again. And, as someone in charge, he had to show them what happened to people who disappointed him. He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth when Diablo swore at him, cocking his head to the side. Most people assumed that Padraic couldn’t understand them when they spoke in other languages. And for the most part, he played dumb. But opportunities like this allowed Ratigan the chance to put a little fear into someone…show them that they weren’t safe, no matter what language they used. Being married to a French performer forced him to pick up the language, which he used to his advantage during business meetings.

          After putting out his cigarette on the table in front of him, and once he folded his hands in his lap, the older man leaned forward and studied Diablo with a curious look. “Quoi?” he asked, quirking a brow and staring at the man as though he misheard him. “J’ai pas de couilles?” Clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, Padraic shook his head and wagged his finger at Diablo.

          “Voyez? C’est pourquoi nous avons des problèmes, Diablo.” Padraic used the couch to push himself to his feet, unbuttoning the front of his suit jacket to remove it and drape it over the arm of the sofa. “It’s very clear that the issue here is a lack of respect.” He proceeded to roll up the clean white sleeves of his pressed shirt, glancing over at Harrison. “He says we don’t have the bollocks to break his legs. Can you believe that?” Harrison grunted again, which Padraic understood as a chuckle, and the older man laughed as well. He motioned to Harrison, who handed him a small pocket-knife from his pocket. “Now, normally, I don’t like to get my hands dirty. But, you see, Diablo…respect is very important to me. I do not take kindly to being insulted. So, after insulting my manhood, I’ll simply have to do away with yours.” He stood over the younger man, watching as he fell into a fit of nervous laughter and started mumbling something under his breath. It wasn’t the first time someone would break down into hysterics and begin cackling as a reaction to the fear they felt. However, as Diablo continued, something about what he was saying brought Padraic to a pause. Even as Harrison hauled the man off the ground, hoisting him up only to slam him down on his back atop the coffee table, Padraic listened intently while his thumb rubbed the smooth handle of the pocket-knife as he flicked it open. He kept saying something about a “she.” She’s not going to believe him, I told her…Harrison kept Diablo’s shoulders pinned to the table while Ratigan frowned at him. He brought the very tip of the blade up to Diablo’s nose, head slipping to one side, as he furrowed his brow at the bartender. “And…just who is she, Mr. Fée? Better yet, why should I care what this mysterious she thinks?”

[stoneheartedminion-blog]

Whatever the older man was trying to do, whatever point he was attempting to prove…it worked. Diablo blinked open his watering eyes as soon as he heard his native tongue coming from that rat’s mouth, his laughter dying in his throat as cold fear settled into the pit of his stomach. He understood. He understood everything. As Ratigan started to press to a stand, Diablo weakly shook his head in disbelief as his heart pounded quickly behind his ribs. “M-Monsieur Ratigan, s'il vous plaît,” he huffed softly, his head spinning as he tried to see what was going on from his vantage point on the ground. He could see the tall man handing something over to Ratigan just as he threatened Diablo’s “manhood,” and it didn’t take a genius to put the pieces together. His shaking grew more frantic, panicked, as he breathed quickly despite how much his body and ribs ached. “I di…I didn’t mean it. I swear. P-Please, Mr. Ratigan…please,” he begged; he hated how pathetic he sounded, but considering what the older man was planning to do, he would grovel and beg like a coward if it would get Ratigan to stop and rethink this. 

He saw the tall man swoop down and groaned as he picked him up effortlessly before throwing him down onto the coffee table like a rag doll. This was bad. This was very bad. And no matter how much Diablo tried to break free, writhing under Harrison’s iron grip, he couldn’t. He couldn’t even kick himself free, as his socked feet simply slid off the varnished surface of the coffee table, which only made him more panicked. “Non…non!” he hissed as Ratigan flicked open his knife, trying to get his shoulders unpinned, but to no avail. He was just about to start screaming for help when he felt the tip of the knife pressing against his nose. Eyes squeezed shut, Diablo grew very still, his breath coming in ragged, short gasps as he tried to steady his trembling voice. “She?” His ming was racing, and for a moment, he couldn’t remember who she was either. Fear was making him draw a blank. But it was only for one heartstopping moment, because as soon as her face flashed into his mind, he blurted out her name. “Meg! M-Meg! She…she said she met you…the other night…” He kept his eyes shut, not wanting to find himself staring down the blade attached to the arm of his vicious landlord. “She told me. She said you…you were a gentleman. I told her it wasn’t true,” he shook his head just barely, which only made the pointed tip press harder against his nose and cause his eyes to water. He really had no need to lie or soften the words for Ratigan’s sake. At this point, it was either tell the honest truth or risk losing things he didn’t want to lose. “She didn’t believe me. She insisted…you were a nice person…” his voice couldn’t shake the nervous edge to it, his words quivering as he struggled to slow his fluttering heartbeat. “S-So once you do this…she…she’s going to know I was right,” Diablo barely squinted, trying to gauge the older man’s reaction, “and she’s not going to be happy…”

[greatestcriminalrat-blog]

House-Call || {Diablo & Ratigan}

[greatestcriminalrat-blog]

          It was almost a little sad to listen to the man grovel. Almost. But Padraic enjoyed the groveling far too much to let that feeling last. Diablo went on and on about being able to fix this, about not telling a soul about his extension, but Padraic barely listened as he reached into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. “Three strikes, Diablo. I operate under a three-strike policy.” He placed one between his lips and prepared to light up just as Harrison sucker-punched the bartender. Padraic didn’t flinch, working on his cigarette as though he was not witnessing a horrible assault in progress, before puffing out the flame with a quick, smoky breath.

          “And this is your third strike,” he murmured towards the man on the ground, watching him swear and moan in pain. “So, I need to be sure you understand that your incompetence is no longer going to be tolerated.” Padraic gave a dismissive wave towards Harrison, who followed the wordless order like he’d done his entire employment under Ratigan. He swung his foot back, then kicked Diablo in the ribs…once. Twice. Three times. He kept going until Padraic lifted his hand again to stop the attack, puffing a few times on his cigarette before prying it from his lips. “Harrison, do you remember what we did to that nice pub owner back in London? The one who couldn’t pay his rent after we had a similar discussion with him?”           Harrison took a small step back, sniffing as he swept the back of his wrist against the corner of his lips. “Broke his legs and threw him in the Thames, sir.”           Padraic gave a little tutting sound. “He was a good man. Pity that he didn’t know how to swim…even with his unbroken legs. However,” He glanced down at Diablo, “the point of that example is to help you realize that this is really for your own good. Now, I don’t want to break your legs. Harrison…well…he actually enjoys that part, don’t you Harrison?” The imposing man gave a gruff noise in response, neither confirming nor denying his employer. “But I’m simply saying that, if it came down to that, only you would be to blame for forcing my hand.”

[stoneheartedminion-blog]

Diablo was barely able to make it to his hands and knees when the first kick came, which immediately knocked him over again. The wind knocked out of him, he was only able to wheeze out one more curse before Harrison’s blows continued. Each kick felt worse than the last, and honestly Diablo lost count of how many times it was before Ratigan called it off. He groaned, his body aching and blood leaking from his lips (though that was more from the punch to the jaw than the subsequent kicking). He listened vaguely as Padraic mentioned breaking a man’s legs and tossing him in a river to drown, but Diablo was in far too much pain to even process the man’s very thinly veiled threat.

He lowered his face onto the ground, breathing raggedly, and shook his head. “Salaud,” he groaned, referring to them both at this point, barely able to form the words without his jaw throbbing in pain. “T’as…t’as pas…de couilles…” Taunting them was probably not the best idea, but Diablo wasn’t exactly in his right mind at the moment. He was in pain, he was terrified, and he was angry that he couldn’t do anything about this but swear at his landlord. He squeezed his eyes shut, expecting another kick to come soon, but something struck him in that moment that had nothing to do with a beat-down. A conversation. One that seemed so wrong in light of this moment. Diablo exhaled shortly, snorting into his dingy area rug, before his shoulders trembled with breathless laughter. Now was no time for laughing, but he couldn’t help it. He wheezed out a few pained breaths before shaking his head. “Je savais…I told her…I knew. Y-You may have her fooled but I knew the act was just that…” He’d told Meg that whatever side she saw of Ratigan was nothing like what he’d seen…and if she was there now, she’d see it with her own two eyes. “And…and she’s not gonna believe you…once she sees me…”

[stoneheartedminion-blog]

Spill // Cruella and Diablo

[thedevilwears-de-vil]

Cruella caught his eyes on her shoes. “You like them, monsieur Diablo? They DO come in men’s sizes.” She jested with a smirk and chuckle (to let him KNOW she was joking, she was often taken very seriously when joking). Well… the OFFER was a jest. She did have heels in men’s sizes, waiting for a man or two to be brave enough but she knew Diablo probably wasn’t the high heel kind of man. 

She nodded as he told her he was leading up the way but shook her head at the ‘its’s your money’ bit. “No, no. It’s yours. Hard earned, well deserved.” She insisted. 

Upon the quesstion though, she was stuck for an answer. “Just…. whatever you dropped…. and well…. whatever that stuff is that you make my favorite cocktails out of.” She said with a smirk and light shrug.

[stoneheartedminion-blog]

Diablo’s ears turned pink at Cruella’s words, though he did give a nervous little laugh when she chuckled as well. “Non, merci. They’re very nice but…I don’t think they would look nice on me,” he answered back softly. Diablo was definitely not a high-heel kind of man; he was more of a “roll out of bed and hope that there’s something clean in the big pile of week-old-laundry, wear sneakers until there are holes worn into them” kind of man. 

The man ducked his head as Cruella corrected him, smiling shyly and nervously as he nodded and uttered a quiet thanks to her. She didn’t give him much to go on, regarding drinks, but Diablo was undeterred. He’d buy back what he needed plus the ingredients for her favorite cocktail. Everyone wins. Diablo immediately set off in search of his replacement bottles, gathering up a few bottles of expensive vodka, some rum, and other assorted alcohols. He then snatched up what Cruella’s drink required, before bringing it all to the clerk. He was nice enough to give Diablo a little discount (since he was such a faithful customer and he pitied the poor bartender), which immediately made him feel a little better. Once everything was paid for, he turned to seek out Cruella before smiling at her. “Now, let’s get you your drink, Madame De Vil.”

[greciansongbird]

Birthday Surprise | Megara and Diablo

[greciansongbird]

"Seriously. He thought that he was the reason I was running late and wanted to make it up to me. " Picking up the paper cup in her hands she brought it up to her lips to sip from it. "Don’t worry about it, Diablo. If you say so, I believe you. I don’t think you’d lie to me and I hope you don’t feel like I was trying to imply so. The impression of him that I got just doesn’t match up and it’s hard for me to picture him to be how you say.  I mean, he told me about how he had lost his daughter. There was a moment when it looked like he was about to cry. It’s just hard to picture someone who was that vulnerable in that kind of light."

He insisted again that she call him and she nodded. “Okay, okay.  If you really insist I will. But for the record, I fully intended on walking and hope by the grace of the gods that I made it in on time.” At his question though, Meg wanted to hit her forehead with her palm. She sometimes forgot that Diablo was new when it came to relationships and things like that and that he was currently in a relationship with someone who meant a lot to him. “No, Diablo, I’m sorry. It’s different for everyone. When you find the right person, it’s great. It might not be perfect, you’ll still have moments where you might fight or upset eachother, but, when it’s real love, that won’t happen. Someone whom you deserve who deserves to have you too, won’t play with your heart. Anyone I were to date in this town would be left in the dust if I got the chance to go home. And every guy I’ve been with has been really good at finding a way to smash my heart into pieces. So…for me, it’s just not worth it. I know how it’s going to end. But for you……don’t take the things I say to heart, okay?  I’m just going on about my past experiences and letting myself get bitter. If you got your heart broken because of something I said, I’d feel like the worst person on the planet.” Meg loved Diablo, in a strictly platonic sense. When she spoke about him she was more likely to introduce him as her brother rather than her friend or her boss. He was family and Meg wouldn’t have it any other way. “Speaking of, how are things going with you and your girlfriend?”

[stoneheartedminion-blog]

Diablo pulled an impressed face as he looked at Meg, though it wasn’t exactly a genuine expression. “What a gentleman,” he murmured, though suspected Ratigan of being anything but. “I wouldn’t lie to you Meg, and I know you weren’t implying that. But…believe me, it’s just as hard for me to see the Ratigan you saw from what I know about the guy.” Diablo frowned, though, when Meg brought up a daughter; Ratigan had a daughter? In that moment, a small amount of pity curled up inside of him, but he merely gave a quiet shake of his head. “I didn’t know he lost a daughter. To be honest, I don’t know much about the guy…just what I see when he shows up at the Dragon for his rent.”

He laughed, looking at Meg as though to tell her that was a ridiculous plan. “Walk? From Crows Landing all the way to the Dragon? I know you’re an independent woman and all of that, but even I have my doubts that would have happened.” He listened quietly as she explained what she’d meant by the words, at how they were more about her own situation than his, which did ease his mind somewhat. It did break his heart to hear Meg talk about her own experience with love…having her heart pulverized by the guys she was with. “I’m sure you’ll find someone who doesn’t do that to you, Meg. And if not,” he shrugged, “you’re strong enough to make it on your own, I think. I mean, you’re stubborn enough, that’s for sure,” he added, smiling, hoping to lighten the mood a bit. When she brought up the term “girlfriend” however, Diablo’s smile faded slightly. “Oh…uh, th-things are good. Things are really really good. We run into each other around town, though haven’t really had time to meet up for a date. B-But I’m planning on bringing her somewhere nice soon…actually I needed to talk to you about that.” He was hoping Meg would be able to open up the Dragon while he went out on his date, as well as close it for the night. “If I go out, would you be able to cover for me? I know you’d take care of the Dragon better than anyone else, so…it would mean a lot.” He hesitated, something else nagging at the back of his mind since confirming his date with Morgana. “And…um…I-I was wondering if I could get some…advice. Y’know…before the date night.”

[greatestcriminalrat-blog]

House-Call || {Diablo & Ratigan}

[greatestcriminalrat-blog]

          Je ne comprends pas… Padraic scoffed and almost answered the man in his own tongue that of course he didn’t understand, because he was an idiot. However, the older man kept quiet as he watched Diablo attempt to work through his emotions at that moment. But when he questioned Padraic about the problem, even if it was rhetorical, the older man’s expression grew cold, hard. “You think I’m lying, Diablo? That I’m making this up?”

          His fingers tapped against the back of the couch, face still as stoic as ever, as Padraic held the man’s gaze. “If there’s one thing I’m very sure about, it’s my records. I know exactly who has paid me, and how much, and everything in-between. You,” he lifted a hand and pointed at the bartender, “are very much ‘in the hole,’ as they say.” Diablo went on, promising to pay Padraic back in full, but of course he asked for more time. Sighing, Ratigan gave the man a sympathetic look. “Diablo, if I could give you more time, I would…but,” he hesitated, glancing over at Harrison before turning back to the dark-eyed man, “well, if I give you more time, then someone else will ask the same. And another. And another. Soon, I’d have an entire slew of business owners asking for more time. And the last thing I need on my hands is a problem like that. So…we’re going to figure out how to fix this before things get out of hand. Harrison?” Padraic gestured to him with a small nod, which was all it took for the large man to step forward and, with one quick movement, clock Diablo squarely across the jaw.

[stoneheartedminion-blog]

As soon as Ratigan’s expression turned cold, Diablo knew he’d made a terrible mistake. “Lying? N-Non, pas du tout! I-I didn’t mean it like that, Monsieur Ratigan. I swear. I just…I could have sworn I put money away for rent. Il n'a pas de sens…it…it doesn’t make any sense…” Though, if Rodmilla had taken out her share of the rent before Ratigan had a chance to cash his check…Diablo groaned internally and passed a hand across his forehead. “Sir, I-I know how to fix this. I swear,” he brought his hands together again, nervously rubbing them together as he held his landlord’s unflinching look. “It’s just a big misunderstanding.”

He knew he was in trouble, big trouble, financially. Diablo had never really learned how to take care of his money, because he’d never really had any to take care of before. He and his mother weren’t well-off, and being under Maleficent’s care for all those years meant he didn’t require money to survive. Diablo closed his eyes, his heart-rate picking up speed. “Please, sir, please. I…I won’t tell anyone that you gave me an extension. It’ll just stay between us, and…and I’ll get you your money. Plus interest!” he offered, peeking open his eyes in the hopes that he’d see true sympathy on the older man’s face. But there wasn’t any…at least not that he could see. And once he said his assistant’s name, Diablo barely had time to register that something was amiss before feeling a hard fist collide with his face. The bartender’s head snapped to the side and he staggered, dazed by the blow, until he tripped over his feet and hit the ground. Pain exploded through his skull and he could taste blood, but otherwise he was too bewildered to do much else but let out a vitriolic slew of words as he tried to blink the stars out of his eyes.

[nolongeraurora-deactivated20150]

If his previous words had been whips, slashing with their burning intensity and controlled rage, the Raven’s sudden words were nothing but a hard slap, sharp and shocking, a blinding blow that left her seeing spots and stumbling back a step in tandem with him. a cause de vous! Because of her. The princess couldn’t stop the volley of tears now, even if she wiped them away furiously, trying to blink them away, stem their flow to keep from appearing so weak and distraught, so confused as the thoughts whirred.

What could she have done? She’d never done anything - to anyone. She was a child when she knew the raven, nothing but a tiny wisp of a thing dancing through the trees and hiding from her aunts, she’d never hurt anyone, not that she’d known anyway. Shaking her head in disbelief, the blondes eyes flicked over to the patrons standing now standing, so much like the guards back home and only making her heart ache more. He really wasn’t going to hurt her, was he? Aurora raised her hand at them, waiving them off gently, the movement so familiar yet so out of place on the sidewalk outside of Tia’s. She wasn’t a princess here. These weren’t her guards. This wasn’t her Kingdom. No one could take care of her in this town but herself, and she’d learned that the hard way. 

"Je n’ai jamais rien fait pour vous! J’étais un enfant!" She cried quietly, reclaiming the space she’d lost when she’d stumbled back, eyes still streaming silent tears that found a new home down her neck. J’étais un enfant et je suis maudit et vous disparu! It was the first time since coming to Grimsvale she’d spoken of what had happened to her, the words broken up by hitching breaths of quiet controlled sobs, the pitcher in her hands trembling. He couldn’t blame her for every wrongdoing in his life, it wasn’t fair. She’d had enough done to her to take on his own, and she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. 

[stoneheartedminion-blog]

Diablo cringed as the princess’s tears flowed freely down her cheeks, and he felt guilt mingling with his anger and misplaced hatred. He knew the girl had nothing to do with his mistress’s death, but rational thoughts didn’t seem to want to break through the emotional ones that clouded his mind. Still, Diablo may have been angry, furious, but he wasn’t a monster. Despite everything he was…a thief, a minion of a powerful sorceress, a coward…he still had a heart. And right now, it ached in his chest. He could remember watching little Aurora in the forests, playing, laughing, always with a smile on her face. He’d watched over her, and he’d made sure no harm came to her. It was mostly because his mistress needed the girl alive until her sixteenth birthday, but partially because the minion was amused by her. If ravens could smile, he would have as he listened to her singing or laughing. And he remembered being concerned if she fell and scraped a knee or cried about something. 

And here he was, bellowing at her…making her cry like some bully. His head swam with confusion as he watched her wave off the people coming to her aid. Her words sliced into him like a dagger, every tear like a salty drop in his wounds, and soon Diablo found himself shrinking back. The brief bravado had left him, and a cold feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as his eyes swept across the other patrons. They’re all watching you. Look at what you’ve done. Look at what you’ve become…an animal who screams at innocent girls until they cry. What would Maleficent say? Diablo’s gaze darted back to the girl, his dark eyes growing round and his brow crinkled into a pathetic look as he exhaled shakily. She was only a child, Diablo. She didn’t know what was happening. “Non, mais votre père. Votre mère. Ils ne devraient jamais avoir…” he hesitated, his breath coming in short and quick as he backed away another step. Je suis maudit et vous disparu! She was cursed. He’d vanished. Diablo shook his head; Maleficent had only done that to get revenge against the kingdom…to seek justice for those downtrodden by those behind the castle walls. She would never curse an innocent girl…would she? Diablo swallowed hard past the dryness in his throat, still shaking his head from side to side. “Je n'aurais jamais dû parti…” he breathed, his features pinching as he thought back on that day he was retrieved from his mistress’s castle. He never should have left. He should have gone through with his plans that night…at least then, he wouldn’t have to face the girl he once watched over like this. He glanced up, meeting the young woman’s gaze. “Je n'ai pas disparaître assez loin.” If he'd just done what he intended...he could have been with Maleficent at that moment. He just needed to see her again. Diablo drew in a ragged breath as he came back to the present; couldn’t stay here. No doubt they probably called the cops for the disturbance. And if they didn’t, it wouldn’t be much longer until someone did. Diablo had to leave before he did something he regretted.