Warnings: rape, murder, insanity, dark themes, pedophilia, 2p nations, yaoi, kinda sexism, OMG SEXUAL TENSION, sorry about the bad language translations, I also apologize for any English grammar/spelling mistakes
Songs:
Sweet (A Trickster! Jane Crocker Fansong): PhemieC (A/N: Oliver's theme song throughout this story)
Don't Mess With Me: Temposhark (A/N: Francois' theme song throughout this story)
Love Is a Suicide: Natalia Kills
I Can't Decide: Scissor Sisters
Chapter Three: Prologue -Prt. 3
Oliver had his sleeves rolled up, white streaking his cheeks as he huffed, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his wrist. He leaned over the metal counter top, the heat in the bakery's kitchen making him flustered, as he expertly frosted the cupcakes; he placed generous amounts of strawberry frosting on each vanilla, strawberry and cream filled cupcake, eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration.
Faintly, he heard the bell on the front door of the bakery ring. "Daddy~ I'm home!" Oliver smiled, putting the icing down on the table and turning toward the kitchen doors just as Allen burst in and threw himself as the Brit; the speckled man caught him, lifting Al in his arms and planting adoring kisses on Allen's round, chipmunk cheeks. It had been six months since Oliver had found Al and had, since then, enrolled the youngster in school; they soon developed a schedule of Al being away at school for most of the day and, after dropping the child off, Oliver would work until seven, play with Al, make dinner then it was bed time for Allen while Oliver took the opportunity to go out and have some...fun.
"Hello, cupcake, how was school today? Did you have fun?"
"Yeah, I met a lot of weird people!" Al said excitedly, "Oh, Daddy, look: I bought you a newspaper! The man gave it to me for fifty cents 'cause he said I reminded him of his little brother!"
"Thank you, my boy," he said taking the newspaper and placing it beside the tray of cupcakes he was decorating, "Do you want to be my little taste tester?"
"Yeah!"
Oliver giggled, grabbing a frosted cupcake and placing a Hershey kiss on the top before handing it to Al, "Eat this in at one of the tables and I'll be in there in a second~." Quickly, Allen ran with the cupcake in his hand to sit at one of the tables in the restaurant section of the bakery. Oliver turned back around, prepared to finish decorating the new batch of cupcakes, when his eyes caught on the front page of the newspaper; he picked it up, eyes widening at what he saw. It was the picture of a smiley face above the spread eagle, blurred form of a woman. His eyes went to the text beside it: "the Jovial Jocker stroke again last night, claiming the life of Amber Lidel, a twenty five year old prostitute; Lidel has no living relatives. This is evidence of, not only Chicago's growing crime problem, but as well as the recent, overwhelming violence against prostitutes. The Jovial Joker is one of two serial killers that have been plaguing our city recently, the other being the Ripper -who mimics the famous English serial killer, Jack the Ripper. Police say the serial killers don't appear to be connect but, even so, they are considered to be serious threats to everyone around them. Law enforcement stresses for prostitutes to be on the look out for any strange men and to avoid being alone at all costs..." The article went on and on and on but not about Oliver. Not about the Ripper. Oliver crushed the newspaper in his hand, growling softly. He had been mentioned once! once during the entire article! Who the hell-?! "It's that Joker's fault!" Oliver hissed slamming his fist down on the countertop, "That...that imbecile! The rogue! How dare he?!"
"...Daddy...?"
Almost immediately, Oliver took a deep breath and calmed, turning to face his son. "Yes, cupcake?"
"Wh...Why are you mad...?" Allen asked hesitantly, slowly making his way into the kitchen and to Oliver's side. He looked apprehensive and nervous, twisting his fingers nervously.
"Well, hun, it's just I saw a bad guy in the newspaper," he easily explained kneeling down so he and Al's faces were level, Oliver cupped the red headed child's cheeks and smiled, "so Daddy just needs to get rid of him, is all."
"Woooow, Daddy, you're a real hero~!" the little boy exclaimed in awe and amazement.
"Thank you, puddin' pop~! Now, it's homework time, alright?"
._._._.
*Next Day*
Francois slammed the newspaper on the rickety kitchen table, making it wobble, and stubbed his cigarette out harshly.
"Papa, what's wrong?" Matt asked turning and looking over the back of the couch at his father. The boy had been reading a book for school when he heard his father's irritated huff-grunt as well as the sound of his cigarette being stabbed out. Francois didn't talk much about his feelings -the opposite of Matt's birth parents who had always been bitching and moaning -and, while Francois did make a comment or two on his feelings every now and then, Matt had learned to pick up subtle cues on his Papa's mood change. The newspaper slamming and cigarette stabbing were definitely signs that Francois was irritated. And pissed.
"Yesterday I was on ze front cover of ze Tribune, now eet eez zhis Jack ze Ripper knock off! Zhis...Zhis uncreative jackass eez killing on mon territory! 'E eez challenging moi! I cannot let zhis go, I cannot let zhis go unpunished!" he said slamming his fist down on the table angrily, causing his wine glass to tilt and break all over the floor, red wine probably staining the kinda white linoleum in the kitchen.
"When are you gonna do it?" the Canadian asked genuinely curious. Francois never tried to lie to Matt about what he did to those women -leaving out a few details here and there -but Matt trusted his Papa. It was better than Francois hurting innocent people, the boy -and Francois -argued; the Frenchman knew what he was doing and it was for the best.
"Tonight," he decided running a hand through his loose, long blonde hair, "Eet eez best to get eet out of ze way. You'll 'ave to go to ze club tonight, zhough...Eez zhat alright wizh you?"
"Oui, Papa~!" Matt hummed already bouncing in excitement. He loved playing at the club! Flavio was there to play with and so was Feli and Luciano -sometimes, and Akbar and Andres and the strippers -they all were nice people and they gave Matt candy and he always loved to tease them. He sometimes teased the patrons, too, but Akbar and Andres warned him -him and Flavio -not to because they were dangerous. They wouldn't think twice about raping a little boy.
Around seven o'clock, Francois walked into the front entrance of the strip club. It was dark, with black walls and grey carpet, with only the red, white, yellow and blue rotating lights illuminating the room. There were black lights beneath the stage where the strippers did their thing as well as underneath the tables, along the bottom of the bars' countertops and as back lighting to illuminate the bottoms of Scotch, Whiskey, Vodka, Tequila and other high end liquors of the sort. Gold glitter was embedded in the carpet and was painted in spirals along the walls, the padding of the booths and chairs red leather, the table tops and frames of the chairs black; the stripper stage was made out of pink, clear squares with colored strobe lights in the bottom -spot lights and black lights on the ceiling directly above the T-shaped stage with three poles down the center and two on each side.
Immediately upon entering, Francois and Matt were greeted by Lovino. The Southern Italian had his arms crossed -wearing a black t-shirt with "SECURITY" on the back, black skinny jeans and black gym shoes -and nodded to them, already used to this. After by passing security, they entered the main room, the two bars up front but with one on each side, the stage in the middle with red curtains hiding back-stage. The dressing rooms were only accessible by going through the curtains or from entering through the fire exit in the back. On the left side was a hallway that lead to small rooms where the strippers gave lap dances to clients that were too shy or provided them with other "services".
Andres was stationed at the left side bar, cleaning glasses as he flirted with a pretty woman with short, wavy blonde hair and long legs; Akbar was sitting near by, drinking beer -most likely of Germanic origin -from a pint glass. "Amis!" the Frenchman called, holding onto Matt's hand tightly as he led the boy over to the bar, "I 'ave brought you company~!"
"Francois! Matt! Amigos!" Andres exclaimed cheerfully, his eyes following Matt as the Frenchman took a seat on a bar stool and lifted his son onto his lap, "Nice to see you again~! This is a muy bonita chica, Bella."
Bella giggled, blushing and swatting Andres playfully on the arm.
"Matt~!" the Canadian turned around in Francois' lap, seeing Flavio running up to him, dressed in an all white sailor uniform -complete with white, knee high socks -as well as a red collar and red, leather dress shoes.
"Flavio! You're here too?" Matt exclaimed helping Flavio up to join him on his father's lap, the only -maybe -protest was Francois grunting from the suddenly added weight.
"Si~! Are you going to play with me again~?"
"Oui! That's always so much fun!"
Francois looked over at Andres, wanting the Southern Italian off of him, but all he got was a murderous glare. The Spaniard was seething, eyes glinting in a way that would make anyone else shrink away in fear, jaw clenched as he saw his precious angel-doll wiggling around on someone else's lap. On Francois's, the Jovial Joker's -a rapist's -lap, wiggling and bouncing and -damn it, Andres couldn't help but think about how good it would feel if Flavio did that on his lap, if Flavio was bouncing and wiggling on Andres' cock. Andres licked his lips, cursing violently in his head; fuck Luciano and Feliciano, fuck them both for making him keep his hands to himself!
The Frenchman sighed. He just couldn't win today.
"You going out because of vhat vas in ze paper today?" Akbar asked sensing that the Spaniard wasn't in the mood to converse with Francois.
"Oui, I can't let zhis...zhis 'Ripper' slip zhrough mon fingers," he said, "I 'ave to deal wizh 'im."
"Gosh, Andres, I'm so sorry!" Håkon exclaimed, running up to them in his tall, red, high heels, blue spandex, booty shorts and tight, white, wife beater, eyeliner and red lipstick on his face as well as the Norwegian flag painted on his nails, "I swear, I looked away for just one second and-! Oh, hei, Francois. And Matt, it's good to see you kjæreste!"
"Hey, Håkon!" Matt waved, "Is it alright that I stay here for awhile?"
"Of course kjæreste! Come on, you two!"
"Bye-bye Signore Bonnefoy!" Flavio giggled kissing the scruff on the Frenchman's face before jumping off his lamp and curling his arms around Håkon's leg.
Francois heard a glass shatter and turned quickly to see Andres' eye twitching and his right palm bleeding from where it had crushed and broke the alcohol glass he had been holding. "Oh, mein Gott," Akbar groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face as he moved behind the bar to tend to the Spaniard's wounded hand, "You're so troublesome..."
"Like, oh my God, is this really the place for kids?" Bella asked, flipping her hair, her voice loud, high pitched and -over all -annoying. Francois' jaw twitched, Akbar remained emotionless and Andres scowled.
"Excuse me, belle dame?" Matt said, startling the three adult males surrounding him.
"O-Oh, yes?"
Matt smiled brightly, batting his pretty eyelashes as he got off of Francois' lap, moving with startling efficiency to straddle Bella's lap and place his hands on her shoulders. "You're very beautiful, fille, but, maybe" -Matthew leaned closer to her, still smiling as he rubbed their noses together in an eskimo kiss -"you shouldn't speak, oui? It makes you seem annoying and ugly. You're one of the ones that should be seen and not heard, hmm?"
Bella balked, tears in her eyes as she gaped. Akbar and Andres joined her in her gaping.
"Zhat eez mon boy," Francois chuckled, lifting Matt out of the woman's lap and kissing his cheek as Francois beamed with pride, "Je t'aime, mon petit chérie~!"
._._._.
Oliver watched the man, bathed in shadow, leave the cheap motel room, prostitute no where to be seen. The Brit smirked, walking forward and out of the shadows, moving quickly and removing a knife from the pocket of his trench coat; he raised his arm, about to stab the man in his kidney, but the man spun around. There was a flash of metal and a low, clanking sound as their knives clashed, bodies pressed together and eyes challenging. "Ah, zo you are ze Ripper?" the man asked with a wicked smirk, knives continuing to clash and clank together.
"Yes," Oliver said recognizing the accent as French, "and you are the Joker, I assume?"
"Oui," Francois laughed pushing the Brit backwards, "and you are ze one zhat 'as been killing in mon territory."
"I didn't see your name anywhere," he responded pushing forwards, "who the bloody hell do you think you are?"
"Zomeone older wizh more experience." Francois kicked Oliver's feet out from beneath him, making the shorter male fall onto the gross, filthy covered ground with a tiny shriek; Oliver responded by growling and swiping his feet, kicking the Frenchman's feet so that Francois had fallen on his back and was laying on the ground, too.
Quickly, Oliver scrambled over, straddling the Frenchman's hips; his left hand tightened on the handle of his knife while he pushed down Francois' chest with his right. "Just because you're an old man, doesn't mean you can keep up with me, love!"
"I zuppose," he chuckled, punching Oliver across the jaw and grabbing fistfuls of Oliver's hair; he managed to wriggle out from beneath the Brit and rolled over, so Oliver was beneath him and he had pinned the Brit's hands and wrists to the ground, "But, zhen again, who eez now under whom?"
Oliver snarled, trying to wiggle free of the other man and pouting when he could not. The orange, yellow glow of the street light illuminated them, revealing their faces to each other.
Oliver had not worn his disguise that day, so Francois could see his pale, bronze freckled skin, round, soft cheeks tinted red with an angry and embarrassed blush, his cute button nose, messy strawberry-blonde hair and pale, rose colored lips. Oliver was...Francois was speechless, mesmerized by the adorable face and cute, apricot ears that his eyes were feasting on, feeling that lithe body wiggle beneath his, the Brit's thighs and knees brushing against Francois' groin. But, what Francois found the most intriguing, were Oliver's eyes, which were framed by thick eyebrows that looked like cute little caterpillars and eyelashes that were thick, brown, and resembled those you'd find on porcelain dolls; his eyes resembled green lizard skin or emeralds, with bright, magenta swirls and flecks of gold. They were haunting, mesmerizing, innocence and good intentions covering up something lusty, dark and mysterious. Francois found his jaw going slack as he drowned in Oliver's irises, willing to do anything for the Brit right in that moment.
Francois, on the other hand, never wore a disguise, confident in his ability not to get caught and the fact that he had a strip club full of criminals he could rely on for an alibi. The Brit could see Francois' strong, scruff covered jaw, the naturally arched brows that were messy and uneven, showing he did not pluck them, Francois' high cheek bones and angular face, looking almost harsh, yet so, so handsome. His attention was not caught by the chapped, thin lips or the dishwater-blonde hair that had come loose from Francois' rubber band and were swinging in his face; no, Oliver was drawn to the indigo-blue eyes of the man above him, getting lost in that intense, unyielding gaze as his wiggling ceased and he found his body arching upwards, seeking out the Frenchman's broader, bigger, hotter body that seemed so irresistible. It was like his body was on a string, his hips seeking out a mate to grind against as Francois' eyes called to him, enchanting him and speaking of unspeakable passions and romances.
For Oliver, it was love at first sight. For Francois, it was lust.
Oliver wanted Francois to hold him at him, kiss him gently, whisper sweet nothings into his ears as Francois kissed and licked the lobes, a hand tracing Oliver's spine in a way that was both soothing and seductive. Francois wanted to pin Oliver to the dirty, disgusting, ground of the alley way, tear his clothes to shreds until all the buttons and seams popped, marking that pale, virgin skin with his teeth and drawing blood, playing "connect the dots" using Oliver's freckles and Francois' tongue, to feel Oliver's perky ass around his cock and slim thighs around his waist.
"What's...who are you?"
"Francois," the Frenchman answered without thinking, too ensnarled in Oliver's gaze, "Et you?"
"Oliver..." he breathed, his freckled face blooming bright red, "I-."
A rat scurried past, rattling an industrial sized dumpster. Both men jumped, startled, and realizing what they were about to do with the enemy. Francois narrowed his eyes, hiding the lust and indescribable emotion -that Oliver had hoped was love -with anger, Oliver did the same -glaring at the man who had so easily placed him under his spell and kicking Francois in the middle of his chest. The men rolled away from each other, standing up and staring at each other as they retreated into the monstrous, stretching shadows of the buildings.
"Oliver."
"Francois."
"Zhis eez not over."
"Most certainly not."
"...Next time we meet, I will not be so forgiving. Or kind."
"I didn't expect you to be, poppet," Oliver said, with a deliciously seductive smirk that sent a chill tumbling down Francois' spine, "And I shant be so...sweet~."
"Oh, I would never ask you to be," the Frenchman said with a smirk, "Until we meet again. Au revior."
"Good night, love."
They walked in opposite directions, grins of expectation, thrill and hungry, murderous intent on their faces.
It was only the beginning.
Duuuuun Dunn DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNN
Wow, that was finally done
I'm so sorry that took so long! Forgive me!
I hope you enjoyed that
Characters:
Oliver (England)
Allen (America)
Matt (Canada)
Francois (France)
Akbar (Prussia)
Bella (1p Belgium)
Lovino (1p Romano)
Flavio (Romano)
Feliciano (1p N. Italy)
Luciano (Italy)
Andres (Spain)
Håkon (Norway)
If you have any questions or are confused, tell me in the comment section
Review please and, as always, you all mean so much to me
Love y'all
~kitty