Disclaimer- Don't own Katekyo Hitman Reborn, Amano Akira's.
Technically I've developed an obsession for pairing OC's with canon characters. No, I'll surely stop soon…I think. Actually, I'm not extremely familiar with Dino's character; he's rather minor, so if I've made him OOC in any way I apologize sincerely. This OC is much livelier than any other I've created, but definitely not as lively as a crazy type. Note that if my Italian is wrong…well ex-cuuuuse me, I don't learn Italian or its culture. Instead of Chiavorone, the Viz Media's alternative, I'm going to use Cavallone—which I incidentally looked up and was translated as…CLAM…LOL
Important: Any Mary-sue-ness involved in OC is not intentional.
This will be the one and only super long A/N! Btw watch out for a D18 oneshot I'm starting soon.
I have dying humor, forgive me…I'm getting old.
Pairing: DinoXOC
Don't forget to review! AU
Warning for Oocness, I try my best. Did not copy or plagiarize in any way.
Quando i suini volare
(When pigs fly)
Chapter 1: Encounter with the Pig
It was roughly around ten years ago, she could vaguely remember those tender moments of her life. She couldn't fathom how much she missed those days, her two years of servitude to him. If she could relive those times, heaven would have meant nothing to her. Oh those joyous, unforgettable, lively memories, with the man she hated, yet loved…so passionately.
"Let me get this straight. The Cavallone family wants me to join their family?"
"Have you been in any gangs lately?"
"NO. NOT EVEN ONE."
"But you're a hitman aren't you?"
"I'm just your average NOBODY"
"Well then, you should accept the offer"
Elsa de Luca, your everyday Italian girl living her life dreaming about being a hitman. But unfortunately, she failed to meet any of the requirements to live that dream. She wanted to be beautiful, stunning like the Poison Scorpion Bianchi, infamous and skillful like the Arcobaleno, and lastly, rich and prestigious like the Vongola family. But was she? Of course she was!—in her dreams maybe.
Mushroom chicken ravioli for breakfast, lunch and dinner; picks fights with eight year old's to make her look tough…oh she was on a role alright, and beautiful? Hardly. But stunning? When pigs fly. Her copper brown hair was cropped in a tousled fashion, half an inch too short to reach her shoulders; her eyes were a strange, deep sea blue and forever demonstrating an irate frown. Her ears were pierced, twice—no—thrice with steel studs. She wore a dirt-smeared—once white—tank top, with navy denim short-short-shorts and a tattered, black jacket. Directly on her collarbone was a tattoo with the words Mafia engraved…a temporary one of course. She was lanky…not lean…but lanky, kind of like a stick bug, or maybe it was just the baggy clothes.
Across her stood a prominent-looking man in a crow black suit, in his hands was an important looking document with intricate, cursive print written in perfect strokes. He looked kind of wrinkly, around forty. He tapped his black rimmed glasses and sighed heavily, his shoulders shrugged along.
"This is a joke right?" She chuckled sarcastically.
"No. The document states here…it's an official request from the Cavallone family. Look, there's a signature and trademark right there"
"This is a joke right?"
"You know what. Just take this, and call this number if you want to be in the mafia" He grumbled incoherently.
He turned his back and strode towards the pitch-black, classy looking car then opened the door and slammed it shut, driving off with the vroom of the engine. She stood there, a little dumbstruck and shocked. She blinked a few times then pinched herself on the arm.
"YOUCH"
Okay, so this isn't a dream…
Here she was standing, a girl that had been waiting for seventeen years to be accepted into the mafia. Didn't you have to at the very least kill someone or commit homicide on another ten or so people? Or at least go in the black market, sell drugs or be a professional belly dancer?! She had low tolerance for alcohol, her fighting skills weren't assassin-class, and whenever she tried to intimidate people they'd end up laughing at her stupid face. Oh sure she had a job, a very good job.
A professional Chicken Sexer.
No, it's not what you think.
Her job was in a chicken farm separating baby chicks according to their sex. So technically she spent seven days a week looking at chicken genitals. The pay wasn't that good either, but atleast she learnt how to tell chickens apart.
One week later…
Sigh. "In the end I still came..."
Yeah…she gave in. She was riding in a limousine with the same middle-aged man that day, on the road to her new life, her new life as a Mafioso—no more examining chicken genitals.
"Ah I forgot to mention, before you can join the Cavallone family you need to go through auditions."
"WHAT?!" She squawked.
Never mind.
"Well the boss doesn't just pick anyone"
That was great, just great. If she'd known becoming a Mafioso would involve competition then she wouldn't have come in the first place, there was no point if others were involved, because that just cut her out of the competition from stage one.
She groaned. Too late now.
The Cavallone family were pretty famous, but because her head was stuck into books and articles about the Vongola family, her facts were limited. Although she did hear that the boss was a handsome youth called bucking-horse Dino. How old was he...um…22?
With all that added together, technically she was applying for a position in a mafia family she hardly cared about. Oh well, better make an impression while she could.
"So umm…what's your boss like?" Elsa asked awkwardly. What exactly did Mafioso talk about anyway?
"Haha boss?" The bristly-brush-moustache man burst into guffaws, "If I had to describe him in three words it'd be klutz, dim-witted, dupe."
Elsa looked at him strangely. What…? Sounds like a pretty crap boss.
"But if I had to describe him in one word it'd be…amazing"
She muttered, "That's nice."
"Ah we're here"
Mouth-dropping WOW.
She peered through the glass window, her face glued against it. It was well…um…gargantuan! A mansion spread across a town of stone floor with vintage walls, windows, roofs, doors and a water fountain directly in front. Coming from a pretty pathetic hometown, she had never been able to see such a colossal house.
She gawked, "Wow…this is the Cavallone residence?!"
"Only part of it."
She twitched several times. The door was opened for her by another man in an identical suit, she stepped out of the car in her simple black shirt and long-dorky, pleaded skirt. She started to feel uneasy, walking towards a line of men-in-black and being escorted by the two buffest guys in Italy. Entering the building left her in flabbergasted awe, it was just like those American reality shows where a group of people would stay in one of those super expensive mansions with like fifty or so rooms—except ten times bigger. It sparkled—no—it flashed her eyes blind. She was led to one out of the hundred rooms, given a number plate, and then the door was slammed shut behind her.
She stumbled back in incredulity; about thirty girls were giggling and smirking at one another in this very room. Here she was in her antique-shirt and nerd-skirt, while about ninety percent of the girls were wearing branded clothing that not even celebrities could afford (the ten percent weren't really wearing much at all). Her self-esteem was being buried alive. Heck. WHAT self-esteem?!
Shoot me.
Some of them even grimaced at her, muttering bitchy bitch bitch words under their breath. She could have sworn she heard the word hairy which was rather odd since she was a pretty damn proud, hairless girl—excluding the hair on her head.
The door suddenly swung open and a herd full of men in black scurried in and halted in front. As the last few came in, a sudden light burst from behind (well. No not really) as a tall figure emerged in front of them. A wave of whispers gushed around the room. It was him, the notorious him, bucking-horse Dino.
Oh wow…smot. Elsa blinked.
(Smot was a word for sexy and hot)
She glanced at him up and down for a moment—nothing suss. His hair was golden-blondish, messy with cowlicks everywhere; his eyes were a light brown, and heck, his lashes were long. He kind of reminded her of one of those hosts…the kind that entertains women. On the whole he was just a typical Italian hottie, nothing special. Oh what the heck, he was gorgeous.
"Nice to meet everyone," He spoke with a suave grin, "I'm Dino, tenth generation boss of the Cavallone family"
The moment he spoke, it was already a fact to her that he had unbelievable charm…why?
Because she was possibly falling for him.
Oh the bitter irony.
Yep. She skipped straight to the point. But Elsa had always been a sucker for good-looking boys, she couldn't talk to them, as a result, she fell in love with them very often and never confessed, so she was an expert at feeling unrequited love, meaning her little blush for meant nothing. She looked around her; she wasn't the only one going gaga. It made her feel sick to see a number of them licking their lips as if he were a chocolate sundae. She shuddered.
"When we call your number, I want you to describe the Cavallone boss in four words" One of the MIB (Men in black) said, "The most impressive response wins"
That was simple enough.
As each of the girls were called one at a time, it wasn't a surprise each of them replied almost the same thing, some attempted to make their flattery sound more unique with mumbo-jumbo made up words, but in the end they all received the same reply.
"Cool, smart…blonde…and um…smart?"
"Next."
"Sexy. Hot. Delicious…and frustrated"
"…uh huh…next."
"Pretty, huggable…lovely and cute."
"…next."
"Exquisiteness, magnetize, unadulterated and antidisestablishmentarianism"
"NEXT."
Elsa took a step forward. She scanned the glaring eyes of the men beside Mr. Pretty boy. She looked at him up and down, searching for the right words. Then it came to her, the perfect combination, with a little plagiarism.
She took a breath in.
"Klutz."
Their eyes shot up.
"Dim-witted…"
"…Dupe." She ended, then pointed rudely with her index finger towards Dino, "But if I had to describe him in one word, it'd be amazing."
"I like her." The men chanted at once.
Okay, plagiarism was sometimes a good thing.
Immediately after her success, the rest of the dupes where catered—or kicked—out the main house throwing fits on the way. Elsa was left awkwardly in the room with Dino, something she didn't expect to happen so soon. There was a good distance between them, but a few quick strides from Dino had covered it up within seconds. She stared at him, a little nauseated from his pretty face. Obvious muffled whispers from his henchmen could be heard from behind the door. Now why would they be spying on them?
"Umm…Hi...boss…?" She offered her hand nervously, averting his gaze.
"What's you're name?"
She flinched.
"E-Elsa…de Luca" She replied shakily.
"And how old are you?" He glared at her intensely.
She was getting a little freaked out.
"I'm 17."
"What?!" His shocked expression surprised her. She didn't think he'd be capable of such emotions, he sighed heavily, scratching his head as if she were a problem, "I guess I shouldn't judge the age…it's the inside that counts…"
"Am I in your mafia posse or what?" She scoffed, getting a little frustrated.
His eyes turned to her, she twitched a little, feeling a little uncomfortable. He twirled a glistening object in his fingers and abruptly took her left hand into his. He slipped the ring on the unmentionable finger.
She fell on the floor, "W-What the hell are you doing?!"
He looked at her with puzzled blinks, "I'm formally accepting you Elsa…"
She twitched furiously.
"…as the Cavallone family boss' fiancée, Isn't that what you came here for?" He grinned.
"WHEN PIGS FLY." She barked.
Poor Elsa was never told that from the start.