russian winters

YOU BARK AT STRANGE MEN AND LOOK LIKE YOU HAVENT’ BATHED IN WEEKS.

I BATHED YESTERDAY YOU SHIT I AM NOT A DOG DO YOU SEE A COLLAR AROUND MY NECK DO YOU SEE ME WALKING ON FOUR LEGS??? NO I AM NOT A DOG

      ★ █ : ❛ Yes: We are not…in their way. When it is convenient,       they  will  take  us  out.  Do  you  have  some–thing  you  want…       to protect? —— I am…Winter. ❜

        “They will not. Not if I have anything to do with it. I...         yes. My brother, Vladimir. I am sure that you have         heard of him if you have heard of me. Winter...? Mother         Russia did not gift you with one of her names.”

“Well, you’re certainly not wrong…there is a certain matter we could use your expertise in…”

        “You have my attention... continue.”

    “ You lay a hand on me an’ I’ll break it off an’ keep it          as a back scratcher. “Francis wasn’t having any of the          others threats, not after the night he had. It was one          thing to insult him, but it was a completely other story          to threaten the man. “—Well, you gonna step up or not?”

         “Oh - little puppy is angry, yes? It’s nearly cute.          Have you ever seen a German Shepherd puppy         growl? I’m sure you have - well, that is what you         look like to me right now. You do not scare me,         маленький щенок, I am sorry to tell you so.”

    “—I’d be careful with saying words like that, especially about Mister Wesley.               Besides I could say the same exact thing about that brother of yours,               in fact he has to be one of the biggest here in Hell’s Kitchen.”

        “Take that back or I’ll strangle you with my own two hands.          I swear on it. сука,” he growled, shifting his jaw. He didn’t          like this man. Anyone who liked Wesley seemed to agree          with the other man on the fact that Tolya was nothing better          than a dog, and it angered him. He had to do his best not          to lose his temper - he didn’t want to end up dead, after all.

Daredevil Week. Day 1: Favorite Character #2 - Vladimir Ranskahov.

I decided to make another gifset, because “bad guys” can be great characters too. And yes, I do like Vladimir no matter what, he’s a real badass :P

[245px] ©

+ 1:

As soon as the man started to get huffy, Wesley raised his hands in surrender. All wide eyed innocence that he doesn’t wear well what with the mocking way he holds himself in front of the smaller man. “Whoa. No need to get to upset. You’re a perfectly normal man who happens to enjoy barking at people. I’m not here to judge you and your life choices. So long as you bring in your cut, you can wander the city in a tutu and pumps.” There was a quirk to his lips as he said that, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “I’m so glad that we’ve come to that conclusion. When your brother turns up, provided he’s still breathing, I expect to be called immediately. While it’s fun talking to you, business matters aren’t really your forte, clearly.”

        “Call him yourself if you want to talk to him. I’m not a messenger pigeon, either,” he muttered, his back to the man. He hated the way he was being talked to, like he was lesser. If he just disappeared, the business would stop working. They needed him. And to be treated like this made him angry. He felt degraded and much like a dog would. His light eyes looked down at his shoes as he began to mutter to himself in Russian, trying to reaffirm his self-worth to himself in his mind. He didn’t like to see that smug look on Wesley’s face, and he needed someone to wipe it off. Maybe his brother would help him.

“You certainly act very dog like for a man who isn’t one. What with the woofing and the excitement about treats.” He made a vague motion with his hand to imitate the yapping of a dog, although the gesture end in a wave of his hand. His own eyes narrowed as he smirked in a sort of challenge as he looked down at him.“This is why I wanted to speak with your brother. He seems to understand that your operation is being run by you two. Although, if you want to hand it over to us, my employer will welcome it.”

       “You only see me that way because you want to see me that way. My brother would say otherwise. I am not a dog, and if you keep calling me one, I’ll find a dog that’ll bite your hand off, understood?” Tolya’s voice was a low growl. He loved dogs, he was very much a dog person, but he wasn’t a person who was a dog. And if someone tried to make him into one, he’d snap their neck before they even tried to get a collar on his neck. He took a few steps away from the other man, his back still turned. His hands were on the nape of his neck, trying to calm himself down. “And what would you want us to do, then? Live on the streets? Go back to Moscow to be tortured and imprisoned again? Speak with my brother, if you’d like to. If not, speak to my men. But this does not concern me.”

“You really are like a dog with the way you keep licking your lips,” he explained with a small shrug of his shoulders. Tenting his fingers together, he stepped closer to him and gave a shake of his head. “As for those bruises, while they do fade, they take time. Not to mention we both know your men have done worse.” Although he stared him down, daring him to come up with another excuse.

       “There is... cronut on my lips. What do you want me to do, leave it there? And stop calling me a dog. I am not a dog, especially not your dog. But no dog at all. You want a dog? Go to a pet store. Do you see me wearing a collar? No. I am not a dog,” he growled, fingers curling up into fists, his nails digging into his skin. He stared up at the other man, his chin tilted slightly to hold eye contact. But, after a minute or so, he couldn’t come up with anything. He turned his back to the man, running his hands through his hair. “Tell my men, then. Not me.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t oppose it.” Wesley arches a brow as he watches the man continue to lick at his lips. A small grin spreading across his lips. “You’ve done nothing to earn an upgrade. Aside from the natural occurring. You see, we need unmarked supply because we’re looking at a larger distribution.” He sucked in a breath and clapped his hands together. “However, it’s hard to pass off damaged goods.”

   “отвяжись,” he growled, shifting his jaw as he looked at his shoes, fingers curling and uncurling. “Why the fuck are you smiling like that? And bruises are not damage - they go away in three days. We are exporting plenty, and all of them are good-looking. What else do you want us to do? Shower them in affection and give them back massages?”

                    ❝ Certainly. ❞ Fisk privately reflects on the MAJOR loose end that Anatoly & Vladimir would leave if they left the business. The legitimate distribution would be simple to pass off to another capable associate, or he could occupy the position himself. It’s just a matter of how much he felt he could TRUST the brothers after they leave, which wasn’t very much at all. 

                   ❝ This just … leaves a GAP in our operations. ❞ But not one that he couldn’t fill.   ❝ It’ll be … a real shame to loose your cooperation, but … I can’t force you to stay, either. ❞ He can, however, make actions to be sure that his ANONYMITY endures the conclusion of the brother’s contribution. & he will.  

         “Sir, I understand that. But it is an easy gap for you to fill - I am sure there are plenty of men in this city who would be more than willing to do it for you. We won’t speak of this to anyone at home - none of them have any sort of liking for us - but it is our home. And I feel that it is where we belong, truly. Now... the bigger question - and the reason that Vladimir did not want me coming is... I am asking you for immunity. To help with our living in Russia again. Many of the heads-of-state despise my brother and I. And we’re simply... requesting your help,” Anatoly licked his lips, looking up at Fisk through his eyelashes. Some may have said he looked like a homeless puppy looking for food, but he truly needed help.

“You’re very distrustful for someone I specifically brought a cronut. I’m hurt.” Words spoken in a bored, nearly monotone voice before he seemed to sober and take the meeting more seriously. “My employer merely wants you to be more careful with your products, as the case stands. Your roughness hurts profits.”

       “What do you want me to do? Kneel at your feet and thank you for the unusual snack?” Tolya raised an eyebrow, licking his lips once more. “Tell that to my men. I barely handle my products myself. I only look them over. The men are the ones handling the exports. You made me wait all day for that? I thought I was getting an upgrade.”

“Fine. Maybe he’s buried face first between some blonde’s legs,” he amended sarcastically as he watched him carefully. Arching a brow as the man tried it, Wesley eventually lowered back down to eye him as though Anatoly was some sort of imbecile. “My employer wants to discuss amending your business, for your benefit, of course.” Although his smile said otherwise.

      He finished the weird combination of foods, setting the bag aside and licking his lips. “This has nothing to do with our benefit - I am no idiot,” he growled, as if the man had not just bought him a dessert. “What does Fisk want to do with us?”

He let out an exasperated sigh. Thought about not giving him the treat, but then, Wesley was feeling oddly generous. At least when it concerned matters such as treating Anatoly like the animal he was. Handing over the bag, he shook his head. “It’s a donut and a croissant hybrid. Just eat it. Hopefully your brother isn’t floating down the Hudson.”

        “Do not say that about my brother,” he growled, eyes narrowing. He then directed his gaze to the bag, opening it, and pulling out the object. He sniffed at it before taking a bite, and then looking down at the snack, confused. It had an unusual texture, but that didn’t keep him from taking another bite. “What do you want from us, anyway?” he asked, his mouth still full.

True to his word, he did return to the shop around the time that it should’ve been closing.Eyed the men who seemed to constantly linger around until he found his way to Anatoly. Holding up a bag, he smirked. “I brought you a cronut. Where’s your brother?” He questioned as he waved the bag around for him.

        Tolya had no clue where his brother was. He hadn’t heard back from him since that afternoon, and it was starting to worry him. As Wesley walked in, his brow crinkled as he reached for the bag. “What is a... cronut? And I do not know - he has not responded since I called him this afternoon.”

                     Fisk’s brows pinch together slightly, and his confusion only flickers by before he picks his hand up from the table and places it in his lap. He imagines that the brothers are drawn to their home … just as he was drawn back to his & he’s certainly grateful that Anatoly came to him regarding the matter, rather than just disappearing without notice.

                    ❝ Indefinitely? ❞ He tries to sound as receptive as possible. ❝ Because … that could pose an issue. ❞

          “Yes, sir. What is the issue? Because... well, Vladimir and I do not... we have not lived in a city like this one before. And we are eternally grateful and indebted to you - we owe you more than our lives - but... Moscow is our home. You must understand,” he licked his lips, leaning forward a bit. He just hoped they’d both come out of this meeting alive.

               ❝ I was told that you had some … concerns, that you would like to express? ❞ He glances up at the Russian across from him before his eyes start to wander, as if he were searching for something without legitimate intent to find it. ❝ Where       where is your brother? ❞

          “He doesn’t approve of me asking you this, so he isn’t here,” Anatoly crossed his arms, looking up at the other, slightly irritated that he wasn’t holding eye contact. “I’m asking to be relieved of service so we can return to Moscow.”