What if Daniel took his son to gamble and he gets a piece of the action and wins money Daniel would be so proud
This is Daniel we’re talking about; the man would be proud of his son for pretty much anything. Also, it’s been awhile since I’ve written for the gambler man, so I’m really rusty (pretty much, don’t hate me if this sucks). That said, I sort of maybe totally absolutely took this idea and ran.
As soon as his son is old enough, Daniel would regularly be taking him to casinos, bars, and any other type place where he could gamble. Even before then, possibly to S/O’s disapproval, he’d still bring them along with him (it’s not breaking the law if you’re not caught, right?). Believing that you’re never too young to gamble, the elder D’Arby would have plenty of connections with people to ensure that they don’t get caught for underage gambling.
At first, Daniel has his son only watch, making observations during his games; eventually, when his father thinks he’s ready for it, he’ll have them move onto being more involved with the game itself. As it’s in his careful, calculative nature, Daniel has a fairly well-planned out roadmap of how he wants to pass on everything he knows, albeit at a very slow pace. He means well and only wants to make sure his son fully understands all the intricacies to gambling; however, his approach ends up restrictive.
Reclining in his chair at the poker table and passively taking a sip of his beverage, Daniel would be fully prepared to hear his son bet within their agreed upon range. He’d look over to them just as they pipe up from beside him, raising to an excessively higher wager.
After nearly choking from the initial surprise, which would win him glares from around the table, his eyes would flick first to the just-moved stack of chips, then over to the unbothered expression of his son. Recognizing that he should follow suit, Daniel quickly (and somehow gracefully) collects himself, having to curb his dadlier instincts.
As the hand plays out, the older D’Arby would try his best to remain indifferent so as not to disadvantage his son. Despite his attempts to repress any and all nervous tics, he ends up taking noticeable amounts of short, brief sips of his drink and digging into his pockets to fish out a piece of chocolate before noisily fumbling with the wrapper (let’s be honest, he probably has some sort of emergency chocolate for moments like these).
In the midst of his distress, possibly as he’s enjoying some bites of his emergency chocolate, Daniel would take a few moments to consider why he was feeling the way he was. He was the Great D’Arby after all, so why did the poker game of someone many years his junior make him so uneasy? Don’t get me wrong, Daniel loves his son dearly, but gambling was gambling; if his son lost, then he lost, and that was that.
As far as he was concerned, the bet didn’t directly affect him. Any amount of money lost was easily replaceable. Sure, he did have some pride on the line as he was the one who taught his son everything he knows; although, it isn’t unexpected for someone so young to be inexperienced. Besides, gambling is merely a metaphor for man’s relation with one another, a dance in which the loser cries first. So then, why did the outcome of the game matter so much to him?
He would never figure out the root of his anxiety for, despite his tendency to deny it, Daniel had gotten softer after becoming a father. Of course, any and all of his fatherly softness is saved for whatever family he has for himself, conventional or not; however, pieces of it found itself seeping out into other aspects of his life.
Occasionally, even if it’s just for a moment, he’d almost feel a small tinge of pity when someone loses against him; considering whether they knew any better instead of resorting to believe they truly deserved it for being so foolish as to bet against him. Other times, he’d have to stop himself from feeling sorry and completely at fault for someone so emotionally distraught by the knowledge that their loved one’s soul was taken from them. Though, Daniel stifles these thoughts immediately.
Having given himself some time (and some chocolate) to calm down, he’d glance back at the table and instantly be dragged out of whatever funk he was in becaUSE OH HEY LOOK AT HIS SON
The older gambler would have to fight to keep that dopey proud dad smile from his face when he sees his pride and joy surrounded by a mountain of chips. Now that things have proven to be going well, all of Daniel’s worries would be lifted.
Getting nerves from any high stake like that was natural, wasn’t it? Of course, he should have remained fully confident in his own flesh and blood! Perhaps he had inherited some of his skill alongside his good looks?
Daniel could easily flip the situation to see it as a sort of test, an unexpected detour in his roadmap for teaching his son the art of gambling, perfect for seeing whether or not everything he taught him had really stuck. It also acted as a show that he had been holding back his son; seeing him so capable and adept in this situation would certainly change Daniel’s approach to teaching him.
From that realization onwards, watching the game unfold would have become fun, and Daniel would never fail to be thrilled by seeing that amassment of chips grow larger and larger. Although, he’d decide to remain silent; he had virtually nothing to do with the game.
Every once in awhile, he’d notice behaviors and turns of phrase reminiscent to how he would act: continually taunting his opponent, boasting over any slight advantage, making shvictory (premature or not) in their face, and generally, for a lack of better words, being a massive bastard. Overall, alongside how proud and impressed Daniel would be, recognizing similarities between him and his offspring would only be the cherry on top.
As the game comes to a close and all’s been said and done, the older gambler, no longer needing to suppress grinning like an idiot, would quietly watch as his son cashed out his chips. Once the two were out of whatever establishment they were in, Daniel’s in full dad mode, clapping them on the back, singing praises, making comments on every little thing they did right (with very few minor, almost glossed-over, critiques sprinkled in), and, obviously, telling him how proud he is. If any of his remarks was met with how they “learned from the best” Daniel wouldn’t be able to stop himself from ruffling their hair and letting out a hearty “Good!” (I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself). He might receive some teasing for his initial reaction as well; although, now that it was over, it became something he and his son could easily laugh about.
Maybe a congratulatory hug was in order?
When it came down to how to properly celebrate, Daniel was completely willing to go along with whatever made his precious offspring happy. Though, he did have a preference for things such as the two of them purchasing custom-fit suits or even getting ice cream together.
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