#dumpster Naples

[naplesdumpsterrentalsguys]

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[kurimiaki]

for requests, I'd really love anything involving yan! bruno my meow meow<3

tw: yandere, implied death, delusional/obsessive behavior

There’s a dead man behind a dumpster, and you’re quite certain that you’re the only one to have witnessed his demise.

At first, you had thought it was an animal— the choking, gurgling, gasping sort of sound that had erupted from the obscured alleyway sounded anything but human. It wouldn’t be the first time a local dog or cat had been brutalized by the apex predator, usually a gaggle of drunk college boys— you were under no illusions as to the dangers of this neighborhood.

You had paused, gripped your satchel with the mind to run away, but someone barked the harsh, gritting words, ‘stay the fuck down’. It shocked you, how deeply baritone and cruel that sentence had been, how it viciously reverberated from the dark recesses of the alleyway and into the empty street, but still, you hadn’t thought this stranger could have been killing a man.

Brutally, at that. You only realized, in your skittish yet rationalizing state of mind, that those animals cries were from that of a human. There were silenced pleas, but for every cry for mercy you heard, a sickening crunch and squelch followed suit. It was endless, and it petrified you. The street had been totally devoid of civilization, not a single shop alight with life.

Your mother had provided you with a small knife before you moved, insistent that, no matter what happened, she was only a call away. That if someone was set on hurting you, to take that knife and don’t stop slicing or plunging until you’re safe. But you couldn’t move. You couldn’t have possibly dialed her, much less reach for that knife— it felt as if the slightest movement would attract that same violence to you.

A second voice had emerged, and in your fearful stupor, you were only able to differentiate it from the former’s barking by how gently the latter murmured. The sound of his voice frayed your nerves. It was almost a coo, so warm and unfit for such a ghastly event, inhuman, and it only was by your sudden whimper that man ceased his dulcet tone. At once, the instinctual urge to flee overcame you, to hide and secure yourself away from ever hearing those voices again.

You hadn’t heard them emerge from the alleyway, didn’t have the courage or grit to glance backwards, couldn’t bear to think of how unobscured your face had been, under the streetlight, as you hurriedly rounded the corner.

Crumbling into a cry, all your firmness and fortitude is for naught as you relay last nights events to Bruno. Warm sun caresses your cheeks through the cafe’s expansive windows, and even though he moves to cup your hands in his own, your entire being goes rigid with cold.

“This should not be your cross to bear, [Name]. Have you thought to report this to the authorities?”

Effort.

Bruno likes that word.

For nearly a year now, he’s been working on you, chipping away on what meager reservations you had to his presence, arduously working to guarantee him your heart. Bruno is not a man swayed to suit the preferences of others, and yet, you cannot fall for him as he is now. He’s placed so much effort into shielding you from his lifestyle, from the grit and blood and guts strewn about Naples’ underbelly, from the leering eyes of mafiosos and derelicts alike.

You’re a darling little thing. And Bruno treats you in kind, always will— but you require a particular type of care, meticulous and gentle, unending and attentive. It’s difficult to put words to the feeling that blossomed within him after receiving your teary call, nearly begging him for help, to come and comfort you. He often forgets himself, in his eagerness to make you his, to treat you well as you deserve. He’s blinded by your radiance, your sheening, emissive naïveté, finds it adorable. Last night’s close call was merely a reminder of how dangerous your innocence proves to be, how very often you teeter on the edge of self-incrimination.

If not for Bruno’s watchful eye, or the abrupt pause Sticky Fingers took at your faint presence, he would have let Abbachio handle you, continuing on with the job himself.

He’s glad you’ve yet to catch on, and is quite sure you never will, as you allow him to hold you. It’ll be alright, he coos, touching and fretting and caressing your shivering form, displaying his love for all other cafe patrons to witness, positioning himself in the role of a saint to the public eye. It’ll be alright, Bruno promises, as he ushers you out of the cafe and down towards the police station, acting as a model citizen rather than the capo he is, already preparing to spin a convincing act for the police he payed off not hours before your meeting.

[marahuyos]

anon asked: I hope you still follow Jojo and Persona fandoms because I liked your crossover post there a few years ago. So here's my Jojo part 5 x Persona 5 prompt: Phantom Thief!Reader stumbled across a Palace of someone from Passione during a vacation to Italy, only for Team Bucciarati to accidentally caught you in the act

mara’s words: ISAJDLAFSDH HNGGG i missed that old piece of mine huhu, back when my hype for jojo was so high and it’s all i could ever think about HAHAAHH

part 1 | part 2

gn!reader | reader is the wild card and uses ace as their codename

tw: au (modern smartphones exist for the sake of plot) wearing, violence (guns, knives), blood

It was supposed to be a vacation. How did it end up like this?

Really, you’d think you’d leave the Phantom Thief agenda aside and enjoy your vacation in the sunny country of Naples, Italy with your family (plus talking cat), and-I don’t know-have fun like a regular teenager? Just when you thought your probation last year was the highlight of your entire life, you’ve stumbled upon something worse than that.

Just why would there be a Palace right here in the hotel you were living in?

“We can’t just leave this alone.” Morgana stated, eyes narrowing at the sight of the search result from the Meta-Nav. “If this Palace continues to fester, who knows what will happen to your family?”

You gripped your phone tighter, the red eye of the app staring at you as if it was gloating. Yeah, your vacation is officially ruined.

“I’m sorry that this ruins your vacation,” he sighed, slightly pawing your hand, “but you know the consequences of letting this go more than I do.”

With a sharp sigh, you raised your hand and patted Morgana’s head. “I know. That doesn’t mean I don’t hate it.”

He purred at your ministrations. “Still... just what were the chances of us finding a Palace here in Italy? I thought the Metaverse and the cognitions were only back home...”

“No use thinking about it now.” You said, standing up from your bed. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He quickly sprung out of the bed. “Right you are, Leader! Now, let’s go!”

Blanco Squacquerone-your tour guide for your entire trip in Italy-has a Palace.

It was purely by chance that you inputted his name in the Meta-Nav. A ‘why the heck not’ kind of moment where you were sure nothing could happen. But to your horror, something did happen, and you were regretting past you that opened the goddamn app.

Behind the hotel was a small alley that the hotel uses for trash disposal. Dumpsters hid your figure against the busy street life in the afternoon of Naples as Morgana hopped off from your bag. He sniffled against the stink of the alley but he didn’t raise any complaints.

“I think we’re safe here.” Morgana said. “Now, let’s go see what kind of Palace Squacquerone has.”

You opened the app and immediately started searching. “Well, the obvious one is his name and the place.”

Seeing the words Blanco Squacquerone and Naples were on the search bar, you looked at Morgana. “But what could his palace be though?”

He hummed, tail curling behind him. “There wasn’t much of an impression ever since I saw him...”

And it was true. Squacquerone was your average, jolly tourist guide, ready to give foreigners a grand tour of his home country. There were no red flags appearing in your head when you first met him. The 180-cm man with pale blond hair slicked back with copious amount of hair gel and smiling brown eyes was nothing but a jovial old man. It just didn’t seem right to you that someone so eager has a Palace. In you and Morgana’s ruminating, you failed to notice the clicking of dress shoes stepping closer and closer into the alley.

“Aw, might as well take a page off of that stupid Ryuji...” Morgana groaned out. “How about typing ‘colosseum’? Like the one where we were supposed to go in our itinerary?”

You raised a brow but complied anyway, typing the correct word and tapping ‘search’. Immediately, the whole world distorted, black and red clouding your vision as you felt the familiar pull of the Metaverse drawing you in. The scent of the salty breeze was long gone, replacing it with a heavy and earthy scent-enough to make your lungs feel heavy for each breath you take. Now, in your Phantom Thief garb, you surveyed the entire changed Palace.

“Well damn...” You whistled, staring up ahead. “Your guess was right on the nose.”

The colosseum was an exact replica of the Roman Colosseum, except for the fact that there were people-or cognitions-dressed in tattered garb and shackles on their wrists and ankles all lined up towards the Palace. Inside the building, the sound of metal clashing and tortured screams rang out, making your blood run cold.

“Was there any more doubt, Ace?” Mona said smugly, crossing his arms. “Anyway, we should proceed with caution. We don’t know if Palaces are different when we’re in a different country so be careful leading us in.”

With a nod, you took your first steps inside the Palace of Squacquerone. That is-until you stopped.

Quickly drawing your gun, you knelt fast down to the ground, turning your upper body to aim behind you. The person behind you let out a surprise grunt, sidestepping away from your gun as you heard the sound of zipping. Quickly summoning Arsene, he blocked the oncoming attack. White fists in blue armor were stopped by Arsene’s clawed hands, the mystery limbs leading to a white bodied apparition with blue armor and gold zippers.

“Wh-Who are you?!” Mona yelled, scrambling for his cutlass to help you. The apparition pushed itself away from Arsene, one of it’s arms aiming forward and detaching itself from the elbow and aiming at Mona.

“Change!” You called out, Arsene immediately switching out to Cu Chulainn to block the attack. To your horror, once the fist hit Chulainn’s spear, it disassembled into pieces as the fist hit Mona.

“Mona!” You yelled before grunting and aiming at the person who dodged your gun. The apparition drew back, it’s other arm drawing back before aiming for your gun. Knowing its attack, you switched Cu Chulainn to De Beauvoir as she casted Tetrakarn. The screen reflected the fist as the caster immediately keeled over in pain.

“Nice one, Ace!” Mona praised, quickly stepping closer to you as he pointed his cutlass at the person. “Now, who are you?! Why did you attack us?!”

The person appeared to be a man, with a black haired bob cut and braids on top of his head as his suit was a pristine white with black teardrop patterns. He had his hand in his own clutches, clearly in pain. When he lifted his head, his blue eyes burned with determination that you nearly gasped at how brightly they burned.

Aiming your gun at him once more, you raised your finger against the trigger. “Talk.”

He continued to breath heavily, the adrenaline already wearing down as he panted softly before speaking. “I didn’t expect Squacquerone to employ Stand Users. Let me ask you this: just how much did he pay you to betray Passione?”

You and Mona looked at each other before looking back at the man. It was Mona who answered for the both of you. “Stand? Passione? What the heck are you talking about?”

This time, he furrowed his brow. “Don’t play games with me. You somehow summoned me here in this warped reality and summoned multiple Stands. Just how much did he pay you to betray us?”

Feeling that this interrogation was going nowhere, you pocketed your gun back as you gestured Mona to do the same. “It appears we have a misunderstanding.”

And so, you explained to the well-dressed man what you and Mona were set out to do. Starting with how you were vacationing here in Italy and being a Phantom Thief back home. Then, you explained about the Metaverse, how you were able to access it and the whole reason why you and Mona are hunting down Squacquerone.

As onto the discussion of Personas...

“So those... Personas you summon... They’re manifestations of your heart?”

For someone who attempted to kill you, he was surprisingly calm as he listened to you. Mona was even more shocked, commenting that he never met a man that easily accepted... whatever the hell that you just said to him.

You nodded. “Well, at least from my understanding. But based on your explanation on Stands, I guess our powers aren’t too far off, are they?”

He didn’t answer, instead continuing to grip his hand. You tore off your mask, summoning De Beauvoir and before he could call back his Stand, you quickly placated him.

“I’m gonna heal you!” You said as your Persona casted her healing spell onto him. He stared back at his own hand, moving and rotating his wrist in awe.

“Why would you heal me?” He asked you, standing up to his full height as he stared down at you. Those blue eyes never seemed to falter.

So you returned the feeling back. “I felt like you were a good person.”

It looked like he didn’t even try to hide his surprise as he stared agape at you. But he quickly seized his expression back. “... So how are you able to leave this place?”

Mona answered for you. “We have our own way back using their cellphone but don’t think that we’re gonna up and leave this place because you don’t like it here!”

He glared at Mona, making the cat cower slightly. “But I am. I’m under direct orders to bring Squacquerone back to Passione alive. However, with the circumstances changed...”

He looked at the two of you before continuing. “I’m bringing my squad here. I don’t trust the both of you to lead me to Squacquerone so I’m having my own backup.”

“H-Huh?!” You gasped out. “But that’s already trouble as it is with you!”

“Yeah, they’re right!” Mona agreed. “You being here was a complete accident!”

“Then you must rectify your accident, no?” He replied coolly, crossing his arms. “If you continue to disobey, you should know that I have the guest logs in the hotel that you’re staying in as well as those loyal to me guarding this side of Italy.”

You gulped. He looked like he wasn’t bluffing.

You nodded begrudgingly.

He hummed. “Good. I’m Bruno Bucciarati. Now, get me out of here so we can get this done swiftly.”

It was a painful wait for the rest of Bucciarati's squad to come here.

Fiddling with your sleeve, you and Morgana waited at the back alley of the hotel for Bucciarati. It was clear that you wanted to say something to alleviate the awkward silence but what is there to say? One would definitely be rendered speechless when an Italian gangster threatens your entire family on your vacation.

Even Morgana, as chatty as he is, was rendered into pawing an empty can. The scrape of the metal against the cement was the only thing grounding you into reality. You think that this is deja vu; you butting in into business that isn’t your own and ultimately paying the price for your nosiness. Maybe if you had ignored the Palace call, then you could’ve enjoyed your vacation alongside your parents. Maybe you could’ve bought more souvenirs than your luggage can manage for the rest of the team back home.

Alas, as you watch Morgana swat the can, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Hearing sets of different footsteps, you straightened up. Morgana ceased his can swiping and immediately stood alert, ears facing forward. Bruno led his squad into the back alley. They all looked like complete strangers-like you would never expect them to be part of a group. But the way that they follow Bucciarati was something you took notice of.

"Apologies for the wait." Bucciarati said. You waved your hand to signal it was alright before taking a closer look at the rest of his squad. One of them sauntered up to you, peering at you from underneath his eyelids as he easily flourished a knife in his hand. You steeled yourself in not wanting to show fear. They were still part of the Italian mafia and you're just a defenseless teenager.

"You sure this is the guy that's gonna lead us to Squacquerone?" The boy sneered, taking a once-over of you before staring back at your face. "They look barely older than me!"

Another gangster looked over his shoulder and this time, you reeled back not from fear, but how you can smell his body odor from that far. You swore you heard Morgana sneeze.

"I'm not one to think twice but how did a kid like this manage to rat out one of the sneakiest traitors in Passione?" He scoffed. "You look like you can barely shoot a gun!"

Your trigger finger twitched.

"Mista, Narancia. Stand down." Bucciarati demanded. They immediately backed off, not before giving you one last glower.

The white-suited man stepped forward. "Don't mind them. It was partly my fault for giving a rushed run down of what I've experienced."

"Ah..." You sighed out, scratching your cheek with your forefinger. "I don't mind. Honestly, I still don't know how you still believe me after all of that."

"It's not a matter of belief," He denied, "Squacquerone has been evading Passione for fae too long. This... method of yours is probably our best bet."

You awkwardly let out a small huff of laughter. "About that... See, your guy isn't actually in the place we're going to--"

A loud 'Hah?!' echoed in the back alley as you flinched when the boy with the orange bandana marched up and pointed at your neck with his knife. "You telling me this is all some goddamn joke?!"

You raised your arms up in fear of him actually committing to stabbing your neck. "L-Look, it's Squacquerone's Shadow that we're after! Once we find him and his Treasure then he'll willingly confess his crimes!"

"Narancia, stop!" Bucciarati yelled. "They're a valuable asset on getting us closer to him and getting us out of where we're going. Don't be hasty!"

The boy, Narancia, growled before taking away his knife as you let out a breath of relief. Another boy, taller than Narancia, but for some reason has holes in his suit, walked forward. "Bucciarati mentioned something about Shadows and Personas... Tell me, how did a person like you manage to do that to Bucciarati?"

The hidden words were there: how did a random foreigner like you accomplish something a well-established mafia couldn't?

You pulled out your phone, punching in the keywords immediately. "Well, I can show you."

"Keywords accepted. Entering Palace."

[casualfartgoatee]

Why renting a dumpster is necessary for Construction Projects

Introduction:

Construction projects often generate a large amount of waste that needs to be properly managed and disposed of. One of the most effective methods of handling this waste is by renting the dumpster from a reliable dumpster rental company. In this article, we will explore why renting a dumpster is essential for construction projects and how it can help streamline the waste management process.

The Benefits of Renting a Dumpster for Construction Projects

Renting a dumpster for your construction project can offer numerous benefits, including:

1. Efficient Waste Management

When you rent a dumpster, you have a designated space to dispose of all your construction debris. This helps keep the work site clean and organized, making it easier for workers to move around and complete their tasks efficiently.

2. Compliance with Regulations

Proper waste disposal is essential for staying compliant with local regulations and environmental laws. Renting a dumpster ensures that your construction waste is disposed of in accordance with these regulations, reducing the risk of fines or penalties.

3. Increased Safety

A cluttered work site poses safety hazards for workers and can lead to accidents. Renting a dumpster helps keep the site clear of debris, reducing the risk of tripping hazards and other safety concerns.

https://citationvault.com/location/naples-roll-off-dumpster-rentals-guys/ 4. Cost-Effectiveness

Renting a dumpster is often more cost-effective than other waste disposal methods, such as hauling debris to the landfill yourself. With a roll-off dumpster on-site, you can quickly and easily dispose of waste without wasting time or money on transportation.

5. Environmental Responsibility

Proper waste management is not just about compliance--it's also about being environmentally responsible. Renting a dumpster allows you to segregate recyclable materials from non-recyclable ones, ensuring that as much waste as possible is diverted from landfills.

FAQs About Dumpster Rental for Construction Projects

Here are some frequently asked questions about renting a dumpster for construction projects:

Q: How much does it cost to rent a dumpster for a construction project?

A: The cost of renting a dumpster for a construction project can vary depending on the size of the dumpster, the duration of rental, and the location of the project. It's best to contact a local dumpster rental company for an accurate quote.

Q: What size dumpster should I rent for my construction project?

A: The size of the dumpster you need will depend on the amount and type of waste generated by your project. A reputable dumpster rental company can help you determine the right size based on your specific needs.

Q: Can I dispose of hazardous materials in a rented dumpster?

A: Most dumpster rental companies prohibit the disposal of hazardous materials in their dumpsters. It's important to check with the rental company about their policies regarding hazardous waste disposal.

Q: How long can I keep a rented dumpster on my construction site?

A: The duration of rental will vary depending on your needs and the terms set by the rental company. Typically, you can keep a rented dumpster on-site for several days to weeks.

Q: Do I need any permits to place a rented dumpster on my construction site?

A: In some cases, you may need permits or approvals fro

[michaeljfox666]

Man arrested for DUI after crashing Porsche into dumpster in Naples

[katrinet99]

Dumpster Rental Naples

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[jviwasteservicesusa]

[ddarker-dreams]

Affliction. Yandere Giorno x Reader [COMM]

a/n: tw for descriptions of injury, and blood. implications of abusive relationships. 

here is the sequel! 

There are many things in life that once you experience it too often, you may come to tire of it. 

However, that could never be said for the initial second you open the creaky doors of your apartment building; the delightful scent of salt water hitting your nose. Rays of sunlight kiss and warm your skin in coordination with the ocean breeze that whirls around your hair. 

For a moment, all you desire to do is stay still, drinking in the environment of fresh air and sounds of bustling city life that surround you. Another time, you think to yourself, as you set out on the comfortingly familiar winding streets of Naples. You whisk by beckoning street vendors, their empty promises of good deals falling on deaf ears. 

A part of you feels pity for the tourists that fall for these coaxing traps, but you can understand the vendors' plight. Not only do they have to maintain their business to feed their families, there are also protection fees that must leave their pockets. Although from the rumors going around town, the new boss of the mafia has a less ruthless streak than the previous one. But the mafia still finds ways to be ruthless, you suppose. 

After walking these paths your entire life, you’ve found yourself discovering new shortcuts. The walk to the market isn’t long enough to warrant a drive on nice days like this one, but it can be tiring to take the main paths. You soon arrive at a familiar alleyway entrance that saves you a few minutes when you take it, confidently walking into it. It’s convenient to have a shortcut so close to your residence. 

Still, it’s a path you’d never think to take once the sun sets in the sky. Alleys do have a reputation in Naples for unsavory exchanges. But with the former drug issue in the area becoming less of a pressing concern, you’ve felt more at ease venturing into areas like this one. As long as you mind your own business and walk briskly, you doubt you’ll encounter any trouble. It’s the silent mantra of your mind to avoid trouble. 

It’s difficult to not feel on edge as you walk through the alley, tall buildings on either side of you looming. The claustrophobic sensation of only having a single place to run away heightens your senses, your eyes desperately searching every visible nook and cranny for trouble. Each step you take echoes within this isolated world, the sounds of comforting society far behind you. 

It’s a common sight to see dumpsters against the brick walls of this area, the added blind spot serving only to unease you more. Always leaning on the cautious side, you take care to look for any human life they might hide from your normal line of sight. Holding your breath at the first upcoming one, you discreetly peak your head around to see if the coast is clear.

What you see instead of an awaiting burglar, is a bloodied body of a young man. The sight causes your jaw to go agape, pupils dilating as your mind processes the shocking information. Your years of training overwhelms your desire to run away, not wanting to leave someone in such a sorry state. Leaning forward, you press your middle and pointer finger to the young man’s neck in search of a pulse. 

‘It’s weak, but he’s still alive!’ 

Hands trembling ever so slightly, you quickly mull over your current options. This area doesn’t have a hospital in the close vicinity, and you don’t have your phone on you to call for an ambulance should he need it. However, your apartment building is only a minute away from here at the most. With stored medical supplies that you bought to assist in your studies, maybe it’d be best to treat him there instead…? 

There isn’t any more time to waste, as you glance down at the sprawling wound across his chest. Without a second thought, you bend down to grab a hold of his limp arm, heaving him up with all of your might. Shakily exhaling, you begin to limp forward while being weighed down by his unconscious body. Your stomach churns at the thought of not making it to your apartment in time, but all you can do is throw the thought into the back of your mind. 

It isn’t an easy task, but you find a rhythm of moving forward while ignoring your aching muscles. Gritting your teeth, you eventually come to the familiar alleyway entrance that sits beside your apartment building. Even at the sight you refuse to relax, instead urgently rushing to bring him inside. Balancing his limp body against your own, you struggle but still manage to open the door to your building. 

It’s never been a prospect you felt grateful for in the past, but now you feel immensely thankful for your apartment being on the first floor. You can already feel exhaustion weighing down on you, but there’s still much more work to be done. With deft fingers, you pull your jingling keys out of your pocket. Balancing him against your side once more, you fiddle with the lock before managing to burst inside. 

The reality of the situation now fully dons upon you, as you realize you need to act fast. As gently as you’re capable of, you place his bloodied body onto your cheap couch. With his weight being lifted off you, you take a deep breath; before scurrying around frantically for your medical supplies. In the bathroom cabinet you find your first aid kit, grabbing it in a rush before running back to him in record time.

Hearing nothing but your own hammering heartbeat, your eyes run over the contents of the first aid kit with familiarity. The blood doesn’t appear to be gushing out at an uncontrollable rate. You can safely disinfect the wound without the looming concern of him going into shock. After cleaning the gaping wound to the best of your knowledge, you gingerly apply an antibiotic ointment over it to prevent infection.

Following suit, a series of gauze is wrapped around the affected area of his torso. Letting out a deep sigh after what felt like an eternity, you lean back and consider your handiwork. Even if you’re not officially a doctor yet, you can’t help but feel a sense of pride in the clean addressing of the wound. Bits of blood seep through the white colored gauze, but it’s nothing that won’t clot in time. 

After disposing of your dirtied gloves and washing your hands, you return to your currently occupied couch. Amidst the whirlwind of panic finding a bloodied body brought with it, you never got the opportunity to look at the person you’re treating well. He dons a strange hairstyle you’ve never seen before, bright golden locks tied back into a braid. Along with three, circular like fashioned bangs on his head. 

Tilting your head, you notice the outfit he’s wearing showcases his fit physique. His facial features sharp, but his slightly parted lips appear soft and pink. You get the feeling this individual takes care of himself, seeing how well groomed he is. As embarrassing as it is to admit it, you have to confess he’s attractive. 

‘What do I even do now?’ you think to yourself with a frown. 

His pulse is stronger than it was before, and from your swift treatment you know he’s not in any critical condition. It doesn’t make much sense to you how the wound on his chest incapacitated him. It wasn’t as deep as you expected from a glance at his condition. And from what you could tell there wasn’t any head trauma that’d cause him to pass out. 

So what could’ve occurred to set all this into motion? 

In this area you can’t help but assume some form of foul play. While it might be rude to question him about it, you decide to ask him what happened when he wakes up. It’s always been your personal philosophy to care for others in need, it’s what fueled you to study medicine in the first place. 

As odd as it is having a stranger sleeping on your couch, you carry on for the next hour tending to some chores while monitoring his condition. There are so many things you want to ask him when he wakes up, the anticipation making it difficult to focus on anything for long. 

Time continues on, the sunset on the horizon and microwave beeping to signal your meal is finished warming. All of that physically demanding movement is starting to wear down on you, the painkillers you took an hour ago finally starting to dull the ache. Humming to yourself, you open the microwave to reveal risotto that you had made the day prior.

Plopping yourself on the other side of your occupied couch, you greedily begin to chow down on the leftovers. Hints of basil and garlic intermingle with the fresh tomato you had used, all creating an abundance of flavor on your palate. You find yourself so occupied with savoring your meal, you fail to notice a distant stirring.

A loud squeak leaves your mouth as he shakily sits himself up, his face grimacing. Quickly placing your meal down, you rush over to his side.

“D-don’t move please! If you move too much, the wound might reopen,” you call out hastily, settling down next to his side to check the bloodied gauze’s status. He blinks at the sight of you, understandably befuddled by the situation in front of him. “Actually, it might be a good idea to change this bandage now…” 

Gnawing on your lip, you hover your hands over the bandage on his torso. 

“Please, don’t worry about it.” 

He finally speaks up, bringing your attention to his face. Blinking in surprise, you realize you can’t change it against his will. Sitting back, you fiddle with your hands while you think of how to handle this awkward situation. Your curiosity from before makes a cautious return, but you suppress it for the time being. 

“I should introduce myself. My name’s [First], and uh, this is my apartment. I saw you kinda… passed out and patched you up,” you begin to explain with a sheepish smile. “I’m sure you’re overwhelmed right now, but you’ll be okay. Physically I mean. I cleaned your wound with antibiotics and dressed it a little over an hour ago, but it should be changed soon.” 

The young man in front of you doesn’t flinch at your not so subtle desire to apply a fresh gauze, instead focusing on introducing himself as well.

“I can see you took good care of me. Thank you, [First],” he responds with a soft smile of his own, glancing from his chest to you. “... I’m Giorno.” 

Where most in a situation like this would be panicked, Giorno seems to have a firm grip of himself. Your eyebrows knit together at this, wondering if he may have damaged his head somehow after all. His entire person is well put together, even covered in bloodied bandages in a stranger’s apartment.

Suddenly, he glances towards one of his pockets, seemingly assessing something. 

“You didn’t take my wallet.” Giorno points out, his facial features too controlled to read. You stare at him for a moment, before realizing the implications of his words. 

“O-of course not! I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” you rush out a small defense, voice raising in pitch. 

“That makes you a rarity then,” Giorno comments with esteem, turquoise eyes taking in your appearance. It feels like he’s trying to get a read on you in the same way you’re trying to understand him. “I hope I didn’t cause you too much trouble.” 

A timid laugh leaves your lips, waving off his concern. “I’m actually used to this stuff. I’ve been training in medicine for what… around four years now? Although I normally don’t do it in my apartment, and it’s always on a dummy,” you ramble, feeling your cheeks warm as Giorno seriously listens to your words. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be talking so much. I’m sure you’re already overwhelmed.” 

Giorno hums quietly, shakes his head once. “I don’t mind. It’s best that it was you who found me rather than anyone else.” 

His words feel well put together, their intention of complimenting you evident. The feeling of someone putting you in high regard is flustering, you only did what you thought was right. Still, you attempt to get a hold of yourself, not wanting to seem like a bumbling fool in front of Giorno.

“Ah, you must be in pain. I have some over the counter painkillers, if you want. It’ll still take a while to kick in though. But it’s better than nothing.” 

“I’d appreciate it.” 

Nodding in affirmation, you scurry off to your kitchen cabinet to find your generic painkillers. Bringing a bottle of water with you, you return to Giorno who is now sitting up. It’s still remarkable to you how he’s not showing any signs of being in pain. Any adrenaline that would’ve dulled the pain earlier should be long gone by now, so why isn’t he so much as flinching when he moves? 

Giorno starts to sit up to meet you, but pauses when your eyes widen in panic.

“It’d really be best to move as little as possible for now.” you plead, bringing the items over to him. Giorno doesn’t object to your request, instead giving a quiet thank you and taking the pill you handed him gratefully. 

“How do you feel?” you inquire, sitting down next to him. You resist the temptation to check his pulse again, certain that now he’s awake he doesn’t want a stranger to touch him. Giorno seems to think about your question for a moment, as if wanting to pick out a good answer.

“I have a high pain tolerance, something like this doesn’t bother me much.” Giorno offers in response, setting the bottle of water down on the coffee table in front of him. The unhesitating movements perplex you further, could anyone have that high of a pain tolerance? It’s certainly possible.

“Giorno… I’m sorry if I’m being presumptuous, but, can I ask what happened?” you ask tentatively, biting your lip to quell any anxiety. Your crushing interest is too much to deny any longer, but you hope the question doesn’t make him uncomfortable. 

Giorno doesn’t show any signs of offense, instead closing his eyes as if he’s recalling the events himself. “It’s difficult to explain.” 

Your shoulders slouching, you find it difficult to mask your disappointment in not learning what happened. Your mind had gone wild with countless possibilities that might explain his injury, but it makes sense he wants to keep it private. 

Sensing your defeat, Giorno decides to indulge you some. “It was something like a fight, if memory serves.” 

‘Aha! Theory number two was right!’

It still doesn’t explain his bizarre indifference to pain, but it’s enough to sate you for the time being. Your eyes light up while a realization dawns on you.

“You must be starving! I don’t have that much in terms of food, but I could order you some take out if you want. Oh, and I have a little bit of tomato risotto that I was experimenting with yesterday,” you offer, clasping your hands together. “Okay, maybe experimenting isn’t a good word for it. I followed the recipe, I promise, if you wanna give it a shot. Otherwise there’s this great pizza place nearby, they should still be open… I think I have a coupon for it somewhere...” 

Cutting yourself short, you realize that you had started rambling again. Most would find it an irritating habit, but Giorno never seems to mind. He looks at you with his full attention, truly taking in every word you’re saying.

“Now that you mention it, I am a bit hungry,” Giorno agrees, eyes glancing to the risotto you put down in haste earlier. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to try this risotto of yours.” 

You’ve rarely met anyone as polite as Giorno. There’s something about his character that emanates self confidence, yet remaining courteous. While leaving to warm up the rest of the risotto, you wonder how someone as mild mannered as Giorno got into a fight. 

‘Happens to the best of us, I guess.’

Giorno eyes your risotto with interest, thanking you once more before taking a bite. Leaning in slightly, you try to gauge if he finds your half decent cooking skills impressive. He shoots you a smile, humming lowly.

“Your experiments paid off. It’s delicious, thank you.” 

You can’t help but return his smile, beaming at his praise. No one’s ever complimented your cooking before! It always feels good to be acknowledged, and you feel like he’s being genuine. Before you know it, Giorno finishes the remainder of what’s left. His eyes glance around the room, as if looking for something.

“Do you know what time it is?” 

“Oh!” 

Springing up, you lightly hit your head at having forgotten to mention the time. Of course he wants to know that after waking up, anyone would! Looking down at the phone in your pocket, you read off the time to him.

“It’s currently 7:24,” you tell him, before pausing. “P.M, don’t worry. You weren’t out for that long.” 

Giorno doesn’t respond with the same briskness from before, his eyes remaining on your wrist. Looking down to see what might have caught his attention, your breath hitches as you realize your sleeve had lifted up enough to reveal some bruises. Biting your lip, you swiftly pull your sleeve down and look up to see Giorno looking with an unreadable expression. 

“I-I burnt myself the other day when cooking,” you lie in a quiet murmur, before going to deftly change the conversation. “Anyways, don’t worry about it. I’ve been treating it. Do you have anyone you could contact? Family or something?” 

Giorno parts his lips momentarily, as if wanting to contest you. His facial features relax, eyes closing while he considers your words. “I do have someone, yes.” 

A sense of relief washes over you that he drops the previous subject. Leaping at the chance to put it further behind you, you continue the conversation. 

“You can use my phone if you’d like to call them.” you offer, glancing down towards your pocket once more. 

“There’s no need to trouble yourself,” Giorno responds with a gentle smile. “I can use a payphone.” 

Nodding your head in affirmation, Giorno goes to stand up once more. From your previous interactions with him you realize there’s no point in chastising his lack of rest. He’d have to leave sooner or later anyways. Could the pain killers have kicked in that fast? 

Giorno grabs his empty bowl along with yours, leaving you to blink in minor confusion. 

“Allow me to wash the dishes for you at the very least.”

It doesn’t seem like a question, and if he’s moving this freely without clear signs of pain you might as well let him. Returning his friendly smile, you get up to show him to your humble kitchen. It’s an odd sight to say the least, watching as Giorno meticulously washes the two bowls and corresponding silverware. His gaze briefly flickers to your drying cups, before returning to his task.

His outfit makes you wonder if he’s well off. You’ve never seen any fashion quite like it before, finding the ladybug fashionings to be of particular interest. It’s something to remember him by at least. 

Drying his hands with a towel, Giorno returns his attention to you. You realize that as it grows darker outside he must be feeling more inclined to head home. It’s a bit of a lonely aspect. Even though you haven’t known Giorno for long, he’s pleasant and considerate of you. It sparks a warm feeling within. 

“I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me, [First]. I don’t want to impose on you anymore than I already have though.” Giorno gives a slight bow of the head, to which you laugh airly. You can’t think of anyone that’s ever spoken to you with such formal language, but it seems to suit him well. His voice has a pleasant ring to it as well, low and flowing like a river. 

Pushing aside your personal feelings, you decide to make the parting easier for the both of you. All good things must come to an end. Even if the beginning of your meeting wasn’t good, you still found your time with him quaint. 

“You haven’t imposed! You’re actually really nice to talk to.” you respond, almost surprised by your boldness. Giorno’s eyes widen for a moment, seemingly taken aback by your compliment. Clearing your throat, you go to change the subject as your face warms. 

“I, um, can walk out with you if you want.”

He smiles.

“Please do.” 

---

Your abrupt meeting of Giorno, and subsequent taking care of his wounds, has been on your mind the past few weeks. You often wonder how Giorno is doing as time goes on. Hopefully he’s been changing his gauze and reapplying antibiotics, even if he didn’t admit to being in any pain. Someone as kind as him doesn’t deserve to get an infection, but you doubt he’d let that happen for some reason. 

Life goes on all the same. 

Within the whirlwind that is life, you’ve felt that your waitressing job has been easier to enjoy. While your boss has never been especially cruel to you, any mistakes you make are overlooked as if they never even occurred. Along with that, even tips have been more generous. Karma was never something you thought about much, but maybe you’re being repaid for your caring deed? 

The only misfortune you ran into was noticing one of your cups was missing. But as random as that is, items like that can be easily replaced.

It’s all still weird though, you reason. It’s as if something is off, but you can’t figure out why. There’s been a new regular that you had never seen before appearing in this time as well. You never caught his name, but his outfit made him hard to forget. Donning a light blue sweater crop top, and red hat with a variety of patterns. He always treated you well, and tipped even better. 

After a long yet fulfilling day of work, you had begun the trek back to your apartment. The sky is more overcast than you normally prefer, but the mild weather makes up for it. Spring is always a delightful season, allowing you to walk around more than in other times of the year. The wildlife returning from winter makes you feel at ease, hearing birds chirping on the way home. 

Having finally entered your apartment, you haphazardly throw your keys onto your coffee table. While walking into the kitchen to get a drink, you’re met with the sight of your boyfriend at your small dining room table. You freeze at the sight, taken aback. 

“M-Matteo?” you inquire with a shaky voice, heart racing. The person in question looks up upon your arrival, his head resting on his fist. “How did you get in?” 

“Did you really forget? You gave me keys.”

‘Have I? He’s probably right…’

It’s uncommon for him to come over without notice, the two of you haven’t gotten to see one another much lately. You didn’t want to pester him for the details, but he’d been leaving for large chunks of time without returning your texts or phone calls. He had murmured something about needing to take up an extra job to you, if you remember correctly. Which doesn’t make much sense since he’s a manager at his current one, but you didn’t press on it. 

“It’s nice to see you again.” Matteo greets, getting up to get you a water. You hold your breath as he approaches you, eyeing his hand as he outstretches it towards you. Taking the water, you allow the cold liquid to calm your warming body.

“Not so much as a thank you?” 

You bite your lip. “Ah, I’m sorry. Thank you.” 

Matteo hums at your response, before returning to his former place at the table. You wrack your brain with thoughts of what to say. Maybe you can offer to make dinner? He normally says you should when he comes over, but you haven’t bought groceries for the week yet. 

“--[First]? I was asking about your day. Are you listening?” Matteo interrupts your train of thought, tilting his head at your distracted person. 

“I’m just tired, that’s all,” you offer in response, sheepishly sitting down in the seat across from him. “It’s been good, actually. Work has been I mean. How about you? I’m sure you must be exhausted.” 

Matteo lets out a long sigh. “Exhausted doesn’t begin to cover it. Listen, I don’t want to beat ‘round the bush. I could really use a favor from you.” 

“A favor?” 

He leans back in the chair, steepling his fingers together. It isn’t often you’ve seen him this serious, he normally has more of a carefree air to him. It serves to further put you on edge.

“I’m in deep right now. Passione raised their protection fee for no fucking reason! They want 30% of our revenue now, the pricks. Acting all high and mighty just cause they have some manpower,” Matteo grits his teeth, shaking his head. “I didn’t believe ‘em. Who else pays such a high fee? No one, that’s who. So I didn’t take ‘em seriously. I just paid the amount they wanted before.” 

Matteo runs a hand through his hair and grimaces. “Guess the fuckers were serious. Some asshole in a hat came in the other day and roughed me up, saying I need to come up with 3,000 or I’m dead. Needless to say I need that money now.” 

Processing Mateo’s urgent plight, you find yourself not too concerned for his well being. While it doesn’t make any sense for Passione to have increased their protection rate on only a single business, it was stupid of him to not comply with their new demands. Matteo doesn’t take your silence in kind.

“I don’t have that kind of money. My credit’s still fucked, so loans are a no go,” Matteo grumbles with disdain. “Listen [First]. We’ve been together for what, a year now? I really need you to help me out on this. I know you’ve been saving for your school stuff.” 

Inhaling sharply, you can immediately tell where this is going. Your stomach drops as he continues.

“You’ve gotta have something around that right? Bail me out this once. I’ll pay you back within a few months, I just wasn’t expecting this shit.” 

It doesn’t feel like he’s asking you for your help, rather than demanding it. Pursing your lips, you feel a bead of sweat going down your temple. Aside from Matteo’s agitated tone, he doesn’t look like a man on the brink of death. Confidence still radiates from his person, his posture upright and gaze free of sorrow. 

He already thinks you’ll say yes.

“Well?” he asks with clear impatience. 

“I-I don’t know. That’s… that’s my entire savings. I have rent due on Friday, and my next paycheck isn’t for another week,” you gawk, looking down at your hands as Matteo narrows his eyes. “I can help with some of it. There’s got to be someone else you can ask right? What about some of your friends?” 

Matteo pinches his nose, shaking his head in disbelief as if you had asked something stupid. “You think I haven’t asked? None of ‘em want to give me shit. You’re all I’ve got. Are you really willing to let me die?” 

“No, that’s not what I--”

“I never took you for someone like that,” Matteo interrupts you, his voice lowering. “Really… I’m just… wow.” 

Lips trembling, you ball your hands into a fist by your side. None of this makes sense, the weight of the situation crumbling down on top of you. The thought of all of that money leaving your account for an undisclosed amount of time makes you pale, stomach fluttering with anxiety. You’ve worked so hard, sacrificing so much. And if he doesn’t pay you back...

But Matteo isn’t finished with you yet.

“It makes sense you don’t trust me. I know I haven’t always been the best to you, but know that I try. I’ve tried so damn hard for you,” he begins, looking you dead in the eye. “Just help me out this once. You can stay at my place, to hell with your rent. I don’t have much time.” 

An unwelcome lump forms in your constricting throat, as you avert his gaze. There really isn’t any other option here, is there? All your hard work will have to go to keep him alive. You’re not close with anyone else in Naples aside from Matteo, your family living in the countryside. The entire reason you came here was to have a better college to study medicine under. 

You’re startled by the sound of Matteo slamming his fist on your table, glowering at your indecisiveness. “Does my life really require so much thought from you?!” 

“Some things don’t have much worth.” 

Looking behind you in the direction of the new voice, shock overwhelms you at the familiar source. It distracts you from a small ladybug that lands atop your hand. 

“Giorno...?” 

Your tone is one of disbelief, if not confusion. Giorno looks the same as you last saw him, eyes calculating and ever serene. His outfit reveals his bare chest, yet not showcasing any signs of scarring where he was once wounded. Everything feels so surreal, but you’re brought back to reality at the sound of a chair scraping.

“The fuck? Who is this?” Matteo demands from you, sensing your familiarity. He stands abruptly, clearly looking for a fight with the intruder. 

“I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again.” Giorno speaks only to you, as if you were the only one in the room, seemingly caring less for Matteo. Words escape you entirely as you stare in bewilderment, but you snap back into reality as Matteo stalks over towards him.

“I don’t know who you are, but get out before you regret it.” Matteo growls, lunging for the collar of Giorno’s suit. Giorno steps to his right with ease, dodging the attack as if it were nothing. Matteo stumbles with his movements, snarling in his direction. You feel your heart racing. 

“Matteo, stop it, I know this person!” you exclaim, hoping to avoid any violence. Matteo doesn’t so much as look at you, a part of you wonders if he heard you at all. You know Matteo’s history, and that he’s been involved in scraps often. Even if you weren’t very close to Giorno, the thought of him being hurt by Matteo makes you feel sick. 

“Are you with Passione?” Matteo asks tentatively, a sudden realization dawning on him. His former fighting stance relaxes, stiff muscles replacing it. It’s almost a talent how he changes his demeanor as fast as a finger snap. You can already see his plan shifting, most likely looking to bargain with Giorno should he answers yes.

But Giorno looks at Matteo with apparent disinterest, a visage you’ve never seen him take before. Did they have some kind of history you didn’t know about? It doesn’t look like Matteo even knows who he is. Nothing makes sense. 

“It’s not like it’ll matter if you know the answer.” Giorno responds, voice indifferent. His once lively eyes take a duller tone, causing a shiver to go down your spine. The way he speaks to you is full of warmth in comparison. 

Matteo takes a challenging step forward, Giorno unflinching. “Listen! I’ll have what you want soon. I thought I had more time.” 

Giorno doesn’t even pause to consider Matteo’s words, having already made up his mind. 

“Normally, yes, you would’ve,” Giorno waves his hand dismissively, tone flippant. “Until I learned of your… association with [First].”

Matteo stares in pure confusion, jaw slackening. “My girlfriend? What are you on about--” 

It happens too fast for your eyes to process.

Giorno doesn’t move a single muscle, yet an overwhelming force strikes into Matteo’s torso. He lunges back, eyes widening immensely at the sudden impact. You cry out, watching as his lifeless body hits the wall with a sickening crack. What even attacked him?! If it weren’t for the clear impression of a fist on Matteo’s chest, you’d have thought it was a strong gust of wind. 

Giorno stares at you with a frown as you run over to Matteo’s crippled form. He coughs out globs of blood, barely capable of even lifting his head. Repeating his name, you find Matteo ultimately unresponsive other than wheezing desperately for air. 

Placing a hand on your shoulder, you flinch as you realize Giorno is behind you. Breathing shakily, all you can think to do is ask for mercy. Why is he doing this? What does he gain from this? The way he’s acting strictly contrasts the polite manner he showcased himself as being to you. 

Was he even human...? 

“I wouldn’t dream of hurting you, mio cara. Don’t bother yourself with him, I’m not letting him die anytime soon.”

The affectionate nickname falls on deaf ears, your focus returning to Matteo’s now dulling eyes. Giorno’s assured phrase of prevent Matteo’s death doesn’t make sense. 

“H-he is going to die! We need to do something, please!” 

Giorno lets out a disappointment sigh at your further insistence, his frown deepening further. You get the feeling he’s irritated, which further serves to confuse you. 

“I hate having to repeat myself. I told you, I’m not letting him die yet,” Giorno leans down next to your shivering form, his arms wrapping around you. “It’s a shame you had to see this, but it serves as an important lesson. Ingrain it into your mind.” 

“W-what… what are you talking about…?” your voice is nothing but a whisper, waning in strength. Giorno runs a hand over your back, attempting to soothe you. You flinch at the unwelcome touch, eyes stinging with the threat of tears.

“He’s nothing to cry over.”

Giorno’s close, way too close. His lips next to your ear, warm breath ghosting over your glistening skin. The hand that was rubbing on your back worms its way to your bruised wrist, causing you to wince in pain.

“He did this, didn’t he?” Giorno mutters, thumb caressing the purple and blue skin. Unable to hold your tears back any longer, your face dampens as they fall from your eyes. His disgust is evident at the mere thought of Matteo, for reasons beyond you. 

Giorno’s touch is light as a feather, deliberate. A foreign sensation tingles in the area of your skin that he touches, the sight of the bruises diminishing. Instead, soft new skin takes its place before your very eyes, Giorno seemingly content with the action. 

“I don’t understand… why are you doing this...”

“For us, bella.”  

You feel like you’re floating. Everything is so far away, yet remains too much to understand. Giorno gingerly picks you up, smiling gently as your body goes limp against his own. He never allows his hands to leave you, gladly allowing you to steady yourself against him. Giorno prompts you to walk out of the kitchen, as if nothing that transpired has an effect on him.

“There’s a car waiting for us out front, [First]. Will you be good for me and come along without any difficulty?” 

Words escape you entirely. All you can manage is a weak head nod, afraid of what will happen if you resist. The fear for Matteo’s well being is now replaced for fear of your own, as an unknown future lies ahead of you. 

Fluttering his eyes shut, Giorno presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. His hands gently wipe away the tears leaving your eyes, shushing your sobs. Giorno then slowly leads you to your door, putting care into keeping you steady. 

“I have so much I can give you, amore. Let’s put all of this behind us, and start our new relationship off on a good note,” Giorno runs his hands through your hair, deeply breathing in the scent. “I am Giorno Giovanna, Don of Passione. And I want nothing more than to have you love me.” 

[blueluneacy]

Monsters of the Alley

I did it folks. It’s a dedicated sorbet/gelato/reader fic, written by me. I’m supposed to be studying for finals.

I got this idea from @j0succ, so you should check them out! Their blog gave me minor character disease-

It’s a Not SFW Werewolf!Sorbet x Human!Reader x Vampire! Gelato! wow

Words: 3k

Warnings: NOT SFW, implied stalking, predator/prey play, breaking and entering, violence, rough play, biting, bloodplay, SERIOUS dubcon, kidnapping, all around yandere, just a bad time for the reader

You knew that walking alone at night was a bad idea, but what could you do, really? It wasn’t like the world was going to wait around for you, cater to your every need. In a world full of monsters, you knew that it was dangerous to be a human, alone and fragile in the dark, but hey. They say that humans were the most common and that attacks from monsters were actually pretty uncommon, yadda yadda, whatever. It didn’t matter how many warnings you were given, you weren’t the type to listen to you. Maybe it was stubbornness, or just plain need that kept you moving through the dark streets. After all, you had done this probably hundreds of times before. If you stopped working, who knows what would happen. It was well worth the risk. 

So, you kept walking, kept moving through the dark streets in hopes that slipping through an alleyway here or there would get you home faster. While maybe this wasn’t the best idea, you weren’t exactly the type to care. You had pepper spray, after all. Everything would be fine.

That’s what you continued to tell yourself as you walked down the alleyway, ignoring every sound you heard down the street. Because it was always a stray cat in a dumpster, or a drug deal you weren’t about to get in the middle of. It was basic Italian sentiment to mind your own business, and you had at least picked up on that rather well. So when you passed the two men at a corner, you didn’t really give their glances two thoughts, just gripping your purse tighter and walking a bit more quickly. You let them rake their eyes over you, because that’s all you thought they would do. After all, no men would hang out around these parts of Naples unless they were up to no good. When you were a few steps away, you turned back just to see if they were still looking at you, only to find that they had walked away. Good. It was always nice when things were easier for you. Maybe they thought you would get in the way of some meeting or whatever. You didn’t care enough to find out. You just kept walking, taking your usual route home.

And maybe that’s where you should’ve been worried. After all, you took this route home every day, rarely changing your routine. Have you seen those men before? You weren’t sure, but you could’ve sworn something was familiar about them. Like, the darker haired man’s nose felt quite sharp, or the teeth of the smaller man looked like they almost glistened in the light. You tried to shake the thoughts away as you opened the door to your small, shitty apartment, fumbling with the key a bit in the darkness. This was hell, working late into the night like this. You knew you weren’t going to make yourself anything healthy to eat, so you didn’t even bother to kid yourself anymore. You just swung open the door, pulling off your shoes and practically flinging yourself onto the couch, sinking into the cushions as you already felt your eyes fluttering shit. 

And yet, something wasn’t right. Something didn’t feel right about something in your home, but you didn’t know what it was. You sat up, looking around but you couldn’t find a thing to really put your finger on. A certain uneasiness in your chest, like you could feel yourself being watched. You got up and moved to check if your door was locked, sighing a bit in relief when you saw it was. Good, you were just going crazy. It was much easier for you to accept that you were a lunatic than you were in danger, after all. And yet, when you heard a floorboard creak behind you, you turned in fear, swallowing as you looked over what had to be an illusion.

“So nice of you to lock the door for us, cara.” You heard the smaller man practically snarl to you, but the sound was faint over the sound of the blood pumping in your ears as your breathing picked up. They were… The men from the alleyway? But how did they get here faster than you, and what was the deal with…. You noticed the large teeth and muzzle of the darker haired man, the way his eyes looked over you as if you were just meat, and maybe that’s all you really were to him. Or maybe it was seeing how pale the other man’s skin was in this light, the way you could see him baring his fangs, his tongue drifting over them idly.

Oh god. Not only were these two monsters, but they were the most stereotypical combo to murder you. Your death was totally going to look like a joke. Still you swallowed a bit, trying to show a little bit of strength in this dire moment. 

“G… Get out of my house, and I won’t call the cops.” You snapped back, letting the heavy pause linger in the air. The two of them stared at you, almost shocked at your defiance, before laughing. Well, maybe you should’ve seen that coming. Not only were the both of them stronger than you, but everyone knew that the police would take their time coming here, ready to solve a crime but not stop one. That was the way things were. With the weak being devoured by the strong. 

“I told you, Sorbet. She’s a fighter, wouldn’t it be a lot more fun that way?” The man purred, leaning his head against the taller man, who you could only assume was Sorbet, leaving him to wrap an arm around him, but not take his eyes off of you.

“This should be interesting enough.” Sorbet replied, leaving you to gulp. Fuck it. Fuck it all. It was now or never. You would rather die knowing you gave a proper fight than just let yourself be devoured by these… things. You gripped the doorknob tightly, flinging open the door and bolting out, hoping to get as far away as possible. You had no idea where or how you were going to get there, but it didn’t really matter in the long run, did it? After all, you only got ten meters out the door. 

You yelped as claws dug into your shoulders, grabbing onto you and dragging you back into your apartment. You tried to fight, but it became quickly clear that if you got away from Sorbet’s hold, it would be without your shoulder. You noticed vaguely how the vampire’s nose seemed to flare up as you were thrown to the ground, your head slamming against the shitty hardwood. You groaned, trying to pick yourself up off the ground as you heard the door slam shut, only for a boot to be slammed into your back.

“You look hungry, Gelato. Maybe you should take a bite before we get started?” Sorbet spoke out, but his teasing seemed much more sadistic that Gelato’s. Well, they were both sadistic assholes, but at least Gelato’s words had a light quality to them. Either way, Gelato just leaned down and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“That was quite a cute stunt you pulled, ragazza. We really do look forward to seeing what other tricks you attempt to pull.” He purred. You squirmed in his grasp, but his hold on you was bruising, leaving you just to snarl.

“Do you always play with your food, or am I just special?” You spat back, leaving Gelato to give you a sick smile as he let you go, only from Sorbet to thread his head through your hair and pull you up, his claws digging into your scalp.

“You’re just special, troia.” Sorbet growled into your ear, roughly using his other hand to tear off your clothing as if it were just paper. You gasped and tried to cover yourself, only for Gelato to grab your wrists and pin your against Sorbet’s body, the two of them giving you little room to move. You felt the bulges against you, and you gulped, your eyes widening a bit. Oh god, they weren’t planning to kill you. They were planning to do so much worse. You just squirmed, trying to fight your captors but to no avail. They were both just too strong, enjoying the chase a little too much. Gelato leaned down to your shoulder wound, inhaling sharply before dragging his tongue over it. You gasped at the sting, gritting your teeth as you heard the breathy purr that came from Gelato’s throat. 

“I’d prefer if you didn’t fuck around with the killing me part.” You spat back, trying to kick to get the two of them off of you, only for Sorbet to growl as he dug his nails into you, the pain leaving you to whimper a bit as you were a bit more still for Gelato to suck and lap at the wound. You were certain that it was going to leave a nasty scar at this rate.

“You’re lucky I’m not the one who’s starving, or else you’d be torn to shreds. Be good for my Gelatino, now.” He breathed into your ear, and you could feel how hot his breath was, smell the blood wafting off him in a way that just made your most primal instincts tell you to run, to escape from these predators. And yet, you gasped when you felt the two of them grind against you. Adrenaline was one hell of a drug, and that was the only reason the heat was starting to coil in your belly. Whatever helps you sleep at night.

Gelato finally pulled away from your shoulder with a soft hum, letting go of you to work on tearing off your pants. The two of them really had no care for your clothing, to the point where it was pissing you off. You could at least undress yourself.

“H-Hey, what the hell?! I had to pay for those, you know!” Well, it was easier to bring up smaller concerns in your attempts to be defiant in all of this, doing your best to ignore the hot feelings coiling inside of you as you felt Sorbet wrapping his arms around you as Gelato more tenderly took off your panties.

“You’ve already soaked through, troia. I guess a needy slut like you will do anything for a cock inside of her.” Gelato teased, shoving a finger inside of you. It easily slid in, but you still jumped at the roughness, a bit of fight still in you. It was quickly quelled with a tight grip from Sorbet, his nails drawing blood in a way that made Gelato lick his lips.

“Behave, or I’ll make you.” Sorbet growled, leaving you to whimper and nod just a little bit, Gelato just rolling his eyes a bit. He pulled his finger out, shoving it in your mouth with expectation to suck. With Sorbet’s threat still in the air, you didn’t hesitate to wrap your lips around his finger.

“She’s spread enough. Besides, a slut like that will enjoy the pain anyway, there’s no need.” Gelato complained, not looking at you but up at his boyfriend. You could tell that he was impatient, clearly used to getting what he wanted rather quickly and not wanting to work for it. Sorbet thought for a moment, before leaning in to press a kiss against Gelato’s lips over your shoulder. You never felt like such a third wheel before. 

“I indulge you too much.” Sorbet replied, relenting as he let you go for a moment, leaving you to wobble for a moment as you got your bearings. It might be easier to run from one rather than two, but a sick twisted part of you kind of just wanted to see where this would go. I mean, even if they were two twisted bastards who most certainly would kill you after this, well… This familiarity, you just still couldn’t quite understand what it was.

Almost as quickly he let go though, Sorbet was grabbing you again, dragging you over to the couch and onto his lap. You gasped as you felt your bare back against his chest, the fur that covered his body much more prominent. You gasped as you felt Sorbet’s cock rub up against you, realizing how big it was, and how much you fucked up by not trying to run away.

“W-Wait, it’s too big! It won’t fit, please!” You cried out, only for Sorbet to simply scoff at your pleas.

“I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit.” He growled, giving you no chance to protest before pushing into you with one harsh thrust. You screamed out, tears falling from your eyes as your body tried to adjust to the length inside of you. You gasped and heaved, barely noticing how Gelato was coming closer to you, like a fox towards an injured rabbit. 

“Look how pretty the two of you are together. I feel left out.” Gelato purred, brushing a piece of hair from your face. The tenderness was unnerving, leaving you to fear what exactly he was planning to do next.

“I never said you couldn’t join us.” Sorbet replied, and you craned your head to see a smirk on his face, the same plan forming in both their minds that you were helplessly left out of. It only clicked when you started to feel Gelato rub up against your full entrance, leaving your eyes to widen as you realized exactly what was going on.

“So kind of you to invite me. You don’t mind, do you, carina?” Gelato asked, but his voice was dripping with vitriol, clearly having no intentions to stop no matter what you said. But still, you pleaded.

“W-Wait, please, I’m too full, you can’t, p-please-” You were cut off by your own breathy gasp and Gelato pushed past your limits, thrusting himself inside of you in a way that you didn’t think the human body could actually handle. 

“Such a bad liar, puttana. It’s clear that your body was made for our cocks.” Sorbet growled, allowing you no time to adjust as he started to move, Gelato gladly taking the cue to start fucking into you with vigor. There was nowhere for you to escape, leaving you to groan, grabbing onto Sorbet’s thighs to try and give yourself something to hold onto. Gelato grabbed onto your chest while Sorbet held your hips.

“Do you like this? Like being fucked by the men who’ve been watching you all this time?” Gelato teased, and you whimpered, realizing to yourself that you did like it, quite a lot in fact. Something about the way they were fucking you seemed to scratch some primal itch, leaving you to squeeze down on their cocks heartily, moans and gasping pouring from your open mouth. 

“Che brava coniglia… It’s a good thing we got to you first.” Sorbet huffed into your ear, and god, you could feel him nipping at it lightly, subconsciously tilting your head to give the man more access.

“Any other monster would’ve devoured you by now. But you’re ours, and we like to make sure what’s ours stays right in our sight. You should be grateful.” Gelato’s tone and words were threatening, but you were too far gone to care. The two of them just felt so good inside of you that you could barely put together a coherent thought, leaving you to simply babble.

“P-Please, fuck, Sorbet, g-god, Gelato, please, I’m so so close-” You whined out, trying to buck against the two of them, but Sorbet held you far too tightly. The two of them just seemed to speed up their thrusts into you at your warning, leaning in to the opposite sides of your neck to worry at the flesh.

“Cum for us then, piccola puttana sporca.” Sorbet growled, before the two of them sunk their teeth into the sides of your neck. You moaned out loudly as you came, the waves of ecstasy washing over your body quickly leaving you just to shudder in their grasp before going limp. Lucky enough for you, the way you milked their cocks while you came seemed to be enough to push them over the edge, and you felt the heat of their mixed fluids deep inside of you. It felt so much hotter than you would’ve anticipated. They held onto your neck for a bit, before pulling away and lapping up the blood they drew, taking pleasure in the small winces and whines you gave in return. 

When they finally pulled out, you felt yourself immediately lose balance and collapse in a heap on the floor. That took a lot more out of you than you expected. You looked up drearily at the pair, thinking about how this was it, how they were going to kill you. Well. It was a good run, at least. You can definitely say you went out with a bang. 

But, Sorbet just scooped you up in his arms, carrying you like a sack of potatoes. “W-What? What’s going on, what are you doing?!” You started to squirm, but Sorbet paid it no mind, turning to Gelato.

“See anything you like here?” “Not really. It’s honestly just full of a bunch of knick knack crap. She won’t need any of it anyway.” Gelato replied, leaving you to cry out as you squirmed.

“What, can’t just eat me here?! Got more plans to torture me?!” You spat, but Gelato just smirked, shaking his head.

“Do you really think we’re going to kill you? You really are dense. Maybe we will, later. But I think I want to see how far that pretty little will of yours goes. You don’t mind, do you?” Gelato replied, and god, you had learned to hate that smile on his face. Sorbet just patted you on the back, his tone smooth but ultimately as terrifying.

“Oh, carina. We have so many more plans for you.” 

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[mysterious-secret-garden]

Painted in 2000 by Stefano Pessione.

Lid Painting by Stefano Pessione, Rome for the Anonymous Neapolitan Harpsichord belonging to Grant O'Brien

This painting, like the painting inside the lost original lid of this harpsichord, shows Andromeda being rescued from the sea monster by Perseus.  

This scene was often used as an allegory of Naples:  it represents Naples (the beautiful Andromeda) being rescued by Spain (the handsome Perseus) from the Papal States (the ugly and vicious sea monster)!

The original painting on which this is closely based is dated c.1610 and is by Jacopo Palma il Giovane (1544-1626) and is in the Gemäldegalerie, Kassel.

Jacopo Palma il Giovane - Andromeda rescued by Perseus from the sea monster, c.1610.

         The original lid painting

         The original lid painting was destroyed by the previous owner of the instrument when she threw the case and lid into a skip (dumpster) when she lived in Paris.  Attempts have been made to try to find the original case and lid painting but it seems as though they have disappeared without trace.  Fortunately the instrument was photographed with its original outer case and painting.  The image below shows the original lid painting.

Dr Thomas Belz was able to identify this as the legend of Partenope, chained to a rock and rescued from the sea monster by Perseus (on the rock).  The painting of Perseus, however, is not original and must date from the period after the restoration by Hermann Seyffarth in Leipzig in 1904.  In this restoration the front of the outer case of the harpsichord was angled like a Viennese fortepiano, and the lid flap had to be split to accommodate this:

Source of this article. here

[dokidoki-tae]

La Squadra with a S/O who wears crocs

Risotto: Doesn’t really notice them until you point them out. It’s like you want him to have a reaction but he doesn’t. He doesn’t really care. Yeah, they look funny but look at his hat. Buy him some black ones and he’ll wear them around the base, causing Prosciutto to have a heart attack.

Prosciutto: Nearly has a heart attack when he sees them. He demands you take them off and threatens to throw all your crocs in the dumpster. If you get mad, he might get on his knees and beg to at least only wear them inside. He’s a bit shallow when it comes to fashion and crocs hurt his soul.

Pesci: Doesn’t understand the appeal since they are so ugly. You tell him it’s more about being comfortable and get him his own pair and he gets it! You get him green ones but gets chewed out by Prosciutto. Pesci has to hide and protect them from Aniki!

Formaggio: Loves them. Sure he appreciates good fashion. After all, Italy is known as the PowerHouse of the fashion industry but some days he wants to dress down. He loves him some designer shoes, but on a casual day with you, you wear couples crocs <3 

Illuso: When he sees them, he goes silent and stares for a LONG time. You’re kind of concerned. “What are you wearing?” You explain why they appeal to you. He scoffs and comments on how ugly they are. You get him a pair and he throws them into mirror world. Little do you know, he uses them while he’s in there. Damn, they are comfortable. He takes them off when he comes out though.

Melone: When you present them to him, for the first time you’ve seen his face drop. Melone appreciates high-fashion and crocs are definitely not that. When you tell him they are comfortable, he tells you he understands your point but offers different more comfortable and fashionable shoes to wear.

Ghiaccio: Is blunt about his feelings for them and his feelings are that he hates them. You look like a damn tourist when you wear them in public and sometimes people stare because they are an odd and vibrant color. Get him some red ones and he’ll shut up. Will wear them but not around you. Will wear them in front of Prosciutto to see his reaction.

Gelato and Sorbet: You and Gelato skip through Naples with them on. Sorbet is far beyond watching you both and hiding his face when you both turn and call to him. You bought a set of three but Sorbet just cannot bring himself to wear them. He could be wearing the most uncomfortable shoes in the world and he still wouldn’t put them on. Gelato loves them and doesn’t care what the populous thinks. He doesn’t see what the big deal is.

[red-stick-progressive]

A response to that racist responding repeatedly to my additions to the post on Colonial Genocide

1: “La Hispaniola, in where most if not all of the indigenous population dissapeared. I’m only agreeing partially with you, Spanish colonization was devastating, BUT that just isn’t ALL (as you dare to put, in a kinda of cospirazy-theory way): There were a lot of other factors, in were DID play a part the illnesses and the war the own indians had agaisnt others.”

(Then you talk about the Aztec, unrelated to Hispaniola)

2: “The book you provided to me has taken, unsurprisingly, the highest balance of people (8 million) it supposed to exist in the island of La Hispainola before 1492 (of course, the bigger deads, the better! gets easier to acuse of holocaust and genocide).”

(You misread Stannard, I assume in a preview or something. He mentions the population estimate considered standard by most academia for most of the history of the research of the indigenous peoples of the new world, which was the laughable 8 million in the entire western hemisphere. This is obviously an example of academia being a tool of propaganda, colonialist and yes genocidal propaganda. By diminishing the population they reduce the weight of the colonial crimes and reduce the legitimacy of contemporary peoples to the identities of their ancestors. All which benefits colonial power structures. Currently, the most conservative and still legitimate estimate of populations in Mexico before contact is 25 million. That is just in the region of Mexico. The most current and reasonable estimate for the population of Hispaniola before contact is 1.8 to 2.9 million. That many Taino people may have lived on that island when the Spanish arrived. Less than 1 generation later there were no Taino left on the island. All that survived, less than 50 thousand did so as slaves elsewhere or as refugees in other native nations.

American Holocaust by David E Stannard

https://gsp.yale.edu/case-studies/colonial-genocides-project/hispaniola

http://www.wou.edu/history/files/2015/08/Cain-Stoneking-HST-499.pdf )

3: “There you have the ciphers of people other specialist gives that goes from 60.000 (how they dare!) to 8 million, and the problems actual historians have to put a real number, because, as I’ve been saying, de las Casas simply exagerated the number of deads and the ways spaniards killed indians to make his point (spaniards bad, indians good). You know, census didn’t exist that time in 1492. But of course, that’s not a problem for those who’re appealed to lie. Just put the higher, albeit surreal, cypher to make it more proper to accuse of “genocide”, call you book something as “Genocide in America” or “Holocaust”, and you’ve got it.”

(This is mostly incomprehensible. First of all, no contemporary estimates are done exclusively based on personal accounts. Most population estimates are done by testable evidence like residence numbers in archeological sites compared to a standard model for what local populations looked like. This is still a flawed system constantly producing unreasonably small estimates but even this system far dwarfs what you argue. Cuz you’re a racist who is divorced from reality so much so that you are still using decades-old estimates based on nothing but propaganda.

The second point I have to address is that holocaust is a title, and genocide is a defined term. According to Google, Genocide: “the deliberate killing of a large group of people, especially those of a particular ethnic group or nation.” There is no conceivable argument against the fact that what the Dutch, the English, the Portuguese, and the Spanish did in the new world is genocide. Every single European power has dirtied hands. They stole land, erased languages and profited from other people doing the killing even if they didn’t explicitly do so at first.

https://www.google.com/search?q=genocide+define&rlz=1C1CHBF_enUS750US750&oq=genocide+define&aqs=chrome..69i57.4815j0j7&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8 )

4: “how in 1492-1502 spaniards AND indigenous people were both attacked by a same illness, the supposed illness spanish were “using” to kill indians (like 8 hundreds of millions of tHroUsAnDs of hundreds), per your lasts reviews… They were so smart that you know, “used” the same illness to being killed.”

(As for the idea that the same diseases killing millions of Natives were also killing the Spanish, that is very specifically not true. The diseases that the colonizers and conquistadors brought and then weaponized were more or less experientially harmless to them in context. Things like measles and the flu or malaria and typhus. Even the common cold and chickenpox killed and spread like plagues. The things that were periodic plagues in Europe such as cholera, bubonic plague, and smallpox were instantly devastating. Describing how and why is its own post and maybe I will make that post soon but I’ll just say here that Europe was a fucking dumpster fire in terms of sanitation where most cultures in the New World were so socially organized that every early encounter with any given tribe is usually followed with the Europeans marveling at how often Natives bathe and how much soap they use. Another important factor is the fact that Europe had dozens of different livestock animals that lived in immediate proximity to people often sharing water sources to defecate into and drink from. This meant diseases leaped from chickens and pigs and cows and horses to people much more frequently in the thousands of years since domestication. Native Agriculture developed along different paths and so the numerous livestock animals throughout the western hemisphere were fewer and more sanitarily maintained than in the eastern hemisphere. The only disease spread back to Europe during the Columbian exchange was syphilis, though not a plague still terrified Europe. Important detail: it also did not nearly exterminate the entire population of the entire Old World.

The specific example in the first section of American Holocaust was the first such plague event, that made many Spaniards sick and killed thousands of Natives almost immediately. The first plague, unexpected and abrupt, the Spanish took note and it informed the numerous following invasions. It was swine flu, the kind Columbus deliberately spread ahead of himself later on in his return invasions.

As for the argument that the Spanish didn’t know that spread disease and plagues was possible or that they did so accidentally… I mean, to think this you just have to deny or ignore the insurmountable volume of personal; and first-hand accounts of people saying that’s what they were doing. The compilation of accounts and historical sources that Stannard uses often is Harvest of Violence, but Robert Cormack, it is a hard read of historians primarily from Guatemala and Mexico. As opposed to the pure Spanish propaganda you seem to subscribe to, it prioritizes our own voices and is also filled with the accounts from the colonizers themselves which need no special framing to be transparent and genocidal as they discuss leaving the plagued and dead in fields to prevent healthy harvest and piling the dead and debris in the aqueducts and canals of Tenochtitlan to starve and pollute and trap civilians. Just to be clear and definitive though, Europeans definitely knew about plague bodies spreading plague, obviously, they did not understand how or why, but they did. The Spanish had weaponized blood infected with leprosy to poison wine in Naples in 1495, and there were incidents of biological warfare all throughout the Reconquista, which pointedly ended in 1492 before Columbus left Seville.

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1200679/ : examples of Europeans using infected cadavers to poison arrows and wells and so on many times throughout history and recorded by contemporaries.

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S1198743X14641744 : the Spanish blood in wine thing, as well as a long list of other biological attacks in Europe.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reconquista : this is just a link to the Reconquista from Wikipedia in case you were unaware of the very recent and relevant Spanish relationship with ethnic cleansing and genocide.)

5: “In this article, of course, if you could read spanish,”

(I can read Spanish, and speak it. I used to be pretty fluent but now mi español es limitado y lento, pero es mejor que otras personas, ¿no?)

6: “there were indians that just went to the forest and lived there outside from the cities, and like, nobody had a problem with that. Why they didn’t dissapear? Maybe, because, you know, conquest was not a genocide?or in other words: If it can be considered a genocide, is the worst and most inneficient genocide made ever.”

(I’m going to begin with the weird racist part about living in the forest. I, honest to god, don’t know what to say to explain why that's a laughably dumb claim and fundamentally racist thing to say at all. I was shouted at by some dumb racist in a town hall for my local representative, a Republican who hates immigrants etc. One of the things the racist yelled at me was “Go back to the woods.” I don’t know, figured I’d just mention that. Also, you know, it also just didn’t work either. Natives did flee from persecution and attack, and there are many individual accounts of being hunted down by dogs and soldiers and being brutally killed for it. One of the chiefs of the Hispaniola Natives fled with the few survivors of his people to another island where he identified the wealth and valuables that the Spanish sought and threw them in a river in a desperate attempt to make the Spanish leave them alone. He was known by Hatuey, and the “ good christian” Spaniards crucified him and burned him alive.

Also, I would argue that the relative efficiency of a genocide is not super relevant when measuring its moral value. Odd metric btw.)

7: “You can accuse of spanish colonialism of sclavitude, clasism, racism (even race wasn’t a part in the idea of conquering the indians, was a religious thing) and a lot of other things, really, I’m not even doubting about that, but  “Genocide” it’s not one of them.”

(The Spanish are actually the best case for inventing the notion of race, they applied a lense that mirrors the way American white supremacists measured race and how Nazi’s determined whether someone was Jewish regardless of identity or practice. The Spanish invented “Limpieza de Sangre” during the Reconquista while expelling Jews from Spain and hunting remaining Moors. And we know that Columbus brought it to the New World during colonization.

Again just google the word genocide. https://dornsife.usc.edu/news/stories/659/tracing-the-roots-of-discrimination/ )

8: “even in the ancient spanish colonies there still a lot of indigenous people that survived and thanks to the own spanish colonial politics, instead of being killed in the moment for being considered as “sub-humans” or put in indian reservations and being killed of drunkness or surviving by putting casinos, but it is what it seems when some anglo-american just accuse other countries of doing the same and it shows.”

(Whew boy. Where to start?

“Ancient” Spanish colonies? Ancient?

Indigenous people survived despite colonial politics.

Literally, every account dehumanizes the Natives. Every single one, even the patronizing friars and supposed benefactors who just so happened to still not do anything to help Natives.

Just gonna put this here “put in indian reservations and being killed of drunkness or surviving by putting casinos,” Jesus.

And, ding ding ding, ya fucking idiot; can’t even read. I’m not “anglo-american” I’m Lumbee/Nanticoke, an indigenous eastern woodlands Native American. The Spanish colonized the Lumbee predecessors; idiot.)

@imanopinionatedadult @givemeyourtired @roxas-has-the-stick @givemeamomentortwo @thatmidstea @padawan-thunderairborne

[auricdirge]

✦ @f-umo

          Large cities such as Spirale, no matter how opulent, or exactly because of that fact, always hold a seedier underbelly. Giorno can easily tell this from living in Naples and being involved in the sort of business he was back home. While he might not like the idea of being in such a strange place, he dislikes the thought naively wandering around and not knowing what sort of people lurk at night. Golden Ward especially seems like a hotbed for all manner of folks given the casino and Crimson Lane so brightly advertised. 

          It’s no surprise to Giorno when he runs into a petty robbery taking place barely an hour into his walk. There’s a knife and someone that obviously can’t protect themselves, so of course he steps in since there’s no one else around to do so. It’s laughably easy—just takes a twisted arm and a decent punch to the face to get the criminal incapacitated and passed out on the ground; the person they were trying to rob having run off as soon as Giorno showed up, but he doesn’t mind. He ought to do something with body though, well the person, since they’re not dead because Giorno doesn’t know the laws of this place enough to consider that course of action yet. 

          It looks as if he gained a small audience at some point, so he might as well ask for input. “Where do you think this one should go? A dumpster, maybe? There a lot of them around here, and it’s rude to leave trash in the streets.”