#Where To Sell Gold In My Area
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Cash offers for your old silver
Best place to sell silver chain to one of the best gold buyers in Noida for the best price. Cashfor gold & silverkings Pvt.Ltd. is their name. They will provide you with accurate and verified cash offers for your old silver. Call them at 9999821702 /22 for additional information and facts.
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star-suh · 26 days ago
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Sea of Thieves
Bang Chan x Male Reader
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cw: pirate au, top chan, bareback, rough sex, dacryphilia, non-con/dubcon, musk kink, restraints/use of shibari (kinda), degradation, spit, cumming hands free, fingering, blowjob, rimjob, a belly bulge mention.
yn was escaping from the law, he had just become the most wanted after stealing the black pearl from the royal family. with no other way out, he boarded a ship as a stowaway, hoping that it would take him to a place far away from there, but unbeknownst to him, he had made a serious mistake. he didn't know it, but he had boarded the ship of the pirate christopher chan.
chris was known for getting what he wanted, he doesn't care if he has to kill for it, he'll do it, a player who slept with the daughters of the kings of the areas he visited and then stole their precious jewelry and had loot in gold coins. truly a motherfucker.
chris was going downstairs to secure his treasures, then, he heard a sound, he dismissed it at first thinking it was just a rat. “fucking plague” he snarls, while moving one of the big chests a tiny vase fell from the top of one and fell right over yn’s head making him emit a whimper. chris turns his head quickly to the sound “that’s not a fucking rat” he furiously stomps to where he heard the sound. pushing chests and nests aside he found a man covering his mouth, fear plastered on his face.
“the fuck you’re doing here…” he asks. yn shakes in fear, his first reflex was to throw something at the pirate and run. he climbs the stairs and when to the top of the ship just to find out it already sailed, he was now in the middle of the ocean with nowhere to escape, seeing no other way he was already to jump when something hit his head. the world around him became blurry while he fell to the wooden floor. then suddenly everything turns to black.
in a dark room with only the dim light of a candle. the sound of a slap echoed on the room accompanied with a “wake up bitch”. yn opened his eyes, confused, “where am i?”
“in my boat” someone responded. yn tried to follow the voice then his eyes met with a face, a handsome one, but he was angry. “are you one of those spies that fuckers send to steal my treasures?” he stands up, walking towards yn, each step echoed in the room as if a giant was coming near the prisoner. chris tugged on the rope that was preventing yn to move. he was suspended on the roof in a rather uncomfortable position. the rope went all the way to his neck, circling it, then going down his body with lots of knots here and there, on his wrists, torso and feet. unbeknownst to him, the pirate chris, tied him as if he was going to practice shibari.
the ropes on his ass were uncomfortable, they were positioned as if he was wearing a jockstrap, the ropes highlighting his clothed ass.
the interrogation went for almost like an hour, yn’s pleas annoyed chris but his tears were causing something to him, something hardening in his pants. at first chris ignores it thinking it was because he hasn’t slept with someone these past couple of days, maybe it was because he was alone on the ship now, right?.
the pirate tried so hard to avoid that growing burning sensation on his crotch but failed. something about yn’s flushed and helpless face, the tears sparkling due to the dim candle’s light.
“please i just want to get away from these lands” he said, “if- if you help me i can give you something in return”. the last part catching chris’ attention, “what?”. “i have something that if you help me to sell it you can buy a new ship with it.. hell even 10 ships if you want” yn quickly offers “let’s split my treasure in half, just.. just take me away from here”.
chris was dumbfounded, what was that thing that he had that would cost so much but his dick was still aching, it was begging to be freed so he added something more to the proposal, “we have a deal but.. i want something more” he moves around yn then positioning himself behind the prisoner. his fingers doing circling motions on the other’s clothed ass and then grabbing it full with his hand “let me take care of this” as he said that he rips yn’s pants, exposing his back entrance. “what the fuck” yn yells but his protests are quickly muffled by chris’ fat manly dick swinging in front of his face. the pirate undoes a knot so yn’s head hangs lower and he can take all of his dick on his mouth “put that mouth to better use. whore” chris put all his shaft inside it at once, making yn gag. he starts slowly then increased the speed. everytime he pulls down to go back and slam his junk on that wet cavity lots of saliva dripped to the floor and yn’s face. “watching you cry made something to me, so you should take full responsibility for it. be a good manwhore and swallow it all”.
“open wide” he keeps demanding, his balls slapping against yn’s face. yn obeyed and chris forced him to deepthroat him.”you’re skilled at this huh?. it makes me wonder how many dicks have you sucked before”. the pirate keeps slamming himself against the restrained man as if he was some kind of toy made just for his pleasures.
while he waits to cum on yn’s mouth he starts to spit and finger his exposed hole. his trust were sloppy now, signaling he was about to cum, in one of the his cock slipped out of yn’s mouth. the stowaway asks “what are you doing to my ass?” he was about to keep protesting but chris’ cock enters again on his mouth, he shushed him, “keep on sucking me bitch boy. i’m just preparing you for later”.
chris spat, fingered, slapped and kiss the other’s ass, it looks as if he was making out with his already puckered hole, “look how he’s winking at me. he wants me so bad” chris joked about yn clenching onto nothing but soon he would have the other’s tongue inside to clench on it.
yn wet gagging sounds filled the room, he was trying to swallow all the sperm the pirate shot inside his throat, it was a lot that he choked on it, coughing out some of the liquid. “i almost die, you bastard” once again yn’s complaints were ignored because chris was only focused on sucking his hole ‘this motherfucker is so good with his tongue’ yn thought, the anger on his face being just a facade to hide the pleasure he was receiving.
chris rearranged the rope and the knots leaving yn still suspended on air but this time his legs are wide open so the pirate can get an easy acces to his hole “time for real fun” he jokes slapping his tip on the wet hole. “don't fucking put that thing on me.. it's too big” he cried, “don't worry bitch boy” the pirate reassured in a mocking tone that didn't convince yn at all.
“let me use that used hole” he muttered, ramming all his shaft inside at once. tears formed on yn's eyes accompanied with a guttural moan “what's up bitch boy, you can’t handle me” he laughs at how pathetic yn was looking but his hole feels good so he's not gonna complain.
he put his calloused hand on yn's mouth “you're crying it's getting on my nerves” using it as a way to pound yn harder, every inch of it making its way on yn's insides. once in a while he stops thrusting to spit on his shaft as if it was a lube. the warm sensation of the spit making yn ‘feel funny’ causing that he clenches even more.
minutes later yn was free, except by his hands that were tied behind his back. he'a riding the pirate who got tired of doing all the work, “come on, move faster” he demanded slapping his hand against yn's cheeks. “hngh” he squirmed, still feeling the hand imprint burning in his ass “yes sir” he accelerated his pace. gushy sounds echoed in the room, accompanied by the crashing waves outside the ship and some moon light.
chris locked his arm around yn's neck and thrusted like a beast, forming a bulge in yn's stomach “wait. ahhh~” and as if it was a fountain yn's dick spurted cum everywhere, white drops falling on his body, the floor and even some on the walls.
“hahaha” chris laughs, amused of what he just saw “look at you cumming just by your ass. and you swear you're not a bitch”.
yn legs tremble, the tiredness and overstimulaton mix hitting him. “don't sleep on me i still have to fill you up” the pirate cooed, moving his hips slowly in a sensual manner. knowing that he could stay the rest of the night being drilled by that fat dick and seeing that he's falling asleep he decide to made him cum faster.
he grabbed chris’ neck getting his face closer towards him and kissed him, tongues battling to control each other's. meanwhile he moves his hips faster meeting chris’ thrusts that never slowed their pace, “what's gotten into yo-” he was cut by yn sloppy kisses. he was determined to make that bastard cum no matter what.
few thrusts later the pirate cums, yn’s walls sucking the milk out of it like a milking machine, “holy fuckkkk” chris slurred “you know how to work with that hole of yours”. he didn't pull out until the last drop was emptied on yn, his face resting against the stowaway's back, “shit that was good” a smile creeping on the pirate's face while yn just nodded tiredly…
yn wakes up in a bed, with new clothes, he climbs the stairs to look for the pirate, “hey bitchboy you're awake” he waved “yeah but my ass is sore. and stop calling me like that” yn replied, brows furrowed showing how annoyed he was. “tell me about the treasure” he asked with a serious tone and yn told him about the black pearl and how he got it. they planned to stay with it but knowing how dangerous it will be when everyone finds out they have it they decided to sell it and split the coins in two.
“i'm gonna reunite with my crew, see you later” chris said and turn his heels to go back to his ship, “why did you say see you later?” yn asked, being quickly responded by chris “i have a feeling that we will meet soon again” he says while doing some vulgar signs with his hands and sticking his tongue out, “you're disgusting” yn yells and chris just laughs at him showing the middle finger.
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d4minnie · 2 months ago
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Heyyy I loved both Ur stalker and husband yandere gojo fics and wanted to ask a foreign reader instead 🥹like one that just moved to Japan and barely knows Japanese .The rest is up to U 🥹💜💜💜thank youu.
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Pairing: Stalker!Gojo Satoru x afabForeigner!Reader
Warnings: Non con, Violence & Stalking
wc:1,328
MINORS DNI
I made it seem like reader was temporarily in Japan I realised after I was done that you mentioned reader moved to Japan. I'm sorry if this isn't what you wanted
please continue sending me requests!!😊
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How did it come to this? How did a simple sightseeing trip lead me here? The original plan was straightforward: meet a few potential clients in Japan. You were there for a meeting in three days, and with two weeks to spare, a little sightseeing seemed harmless. You knew you wouldn’t have another chance like this soon. Or so you thought.
Since you didn’t speak Japanese, you had a tour guide with you. Feeling a bit jet-lagged, you decided to save the major sightseeing for tomorrow and just explore the streets and try some street food today. After all, what’s the harm?
"ありがとうございました,"
“She said thank you very much,” the guide clarified, and you nodded in understanding. As you both continued walking through the vibrant streets of Tokyo, you spotted a stall selling ice cream adorned with gold flakes. Intrigued, you exclaimed, "Let’s go there!" and rushed toward the stall without paying much attention to where you were going.
Suddenly, you collided with something solid—turns out, it was a person.
“Ow!” you yelped, looking up to see a man staring down at you. For a moment, you were so stunned by his appearance that the words you intended to say evaporated from your mind. The man was strikingly beautiful, with piercing blue eyes, pale, milk-like skin, and white hair that framed his face perfectly. He wore what looked like a bandana or blindfold, pushed up to his forehead.
You were jolted back to reality when you heard him say, “謝らないの? .” (Aren’t you going to apologise?)
“Umm, IIII CANT SPEEAAK JAPANEEEESEEE,” you stammered. Recognition flashed across his face, and he grumbled something unintelligible before turning to leave. But he glanced back once more, his eyes lingering on the curves and dips of your body. You instinctively raised your hands to cover yourself, muttering, “Ugh! What a perv!”
The man chuckled before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you feeling flustered and embarrassed.
“You shouldn’t just disappear like that!”
you turned to see your tour guide, who was visibly out of breath and fuming.
“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, feeling even more embarrassed. You both continued on, but the rest of the day felt off, like a nagging gut feeling warning that something bad might happen. Anxiety had you on edge, and you felt like you might vomit any minute. Your tour guide noticed your distress and offered several times to cut the day short or let you rest, but now he was clearly determined to take you back to the hotel.
“Yeah, you WILL be going back now,” he said firmly.
“But I’m fineeee,” you protested weakly.
“Mhm, sure. Maybe come up with a few excuses for why you don’t look like you’re about to pass out,” he chuckled. You were about to retort when you caught a glimpse of familiar white hair out of the corner of your eye. You froze and spun around, scanning the area, but it was gone. Maybe I really should head back.
“Alright, I’ll go. Thanks for today,” you said.
“Just doing my job,” the guide replied with a nod. After he left, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that someone might be following you.
Once you were back at the hotel and tucked into bed, you were about to drift off, you heard a loud clang from outside your window. You tried to ignore it, but then came another clang, followed by a cling. Annoyed, you got up to investigate. Peering out the window, you saw nothing but darkness. Am I hallucinating?
Just as you were about to leave the window, you heard the sound again. That’s it! You thought. Ignoring the curious stares from the hotel manager downstairs, you stepped outside in your snug, revealing tight-fitting pyjamas. The night air was cool, but the street was eerily quiet. You scanned the area but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe I’m just losing it.
Just as you were about to head back inside, a hand suddenly covered your mouth, and panic surged through you. You squirmed desperately, trying to understand what was happening. What the hell? You clawed at the hand over your mouth and the arm wrapped around your waist, but your muffled screams were barely audible.
The stranger who had grabbed you started walking towards a van. It wasn’t one of those menacing, beat-up vehicles you’d warn kids about—it was sleek and expensive, but right now, you couldn’t care less about the vehicle’s appearance. You needed to escape from this person’s grip.
As they continued dragging you toward the van, you bit down hard on the hand covering your mouth, drawing blood. "Ngh~" the person let out a moan. Wait, WHAT? did they just actually moaned when you bit them?
The man continued dragging you toward a van. He threw open the door and tossed you inside, you turned and your entire body froze in shock. It was him—the handsome stranger from earlier. Why was he doing this? Did bumping into him really anger him this much?
The man laughed as he saw the recognition on your face, then slammed the van door shut. The ride felt interminable, stretching on for hours, until the vehicle came to a sudden halt. When he opened the door again, you tried to escape, but he simply grabbed you by the hair.
You screamed and clawed at his hand, but he dragged you across the rough pavement toward a house. His arm was streaked with scratches and smeared with blood, yet he continued to laugh maniacally. He hauled you inside, shutting the door behind him, and then dragged you upstairs. Your screams and cries dwindled to small pleas and whimpers.
He flung you into a room, which you quickly realised was a bedroom. Huddling in the corner, you begged, "Let me go, please!"
"叫ぶのをやめないと、どうなるかわからないよ?" (Stop screaming or else), he replied coldly.
"I don’t understand what the hell you’re saying!" you shouted, but the man ignored you. Instead, he grabbed you by the hair again and tossed you onto the bed.
You tried crawling away on all fours, but the man simply pulled you back by the hips and kneeled behind you forcing your back into an arch. You let out a strangled noise when your panties were then bunched up in his fists and ripped off. "自分が偉いと思ってるの?" (You think you're big and bad?) You tilted your head in confusion whimpering, which was suddenly cut short by his hand covering your mouth. Your head was then tilted back and you felt his bulging arousal against your ass.
"やっぱりな。クソみたいにだらだらしてるな。"(Just as I thought. Fucking dripping.)He let out a dark chuckle and pressed a finger into you, curling against your walls. Your nails were digging into the bed sheets painfully as his long finger violated your insides. He removed his hands from your mouth and instead grabbed a fistful of your hair. Tilting your head back further he laughed in your face again before asking mockingly, "安っぽいビッチみたいに扱われるのが好きなの?ねえ?"(Do you like being treated like some cheap slut? Hm?) You were so confused by what the man was saying, but when he started slowly patting your face—hitting harder with each pat—you instinctively shook your head. He shoved his cock deeply inside of your cunt, groaning heatedly in your ear.
"あ、くそ…"(A- ah shit) he moaned your pussy clamped down on him instantly and tight that he almost struggled to retract. Still he managed before roughly slamming into you again, jolting your entire body against him. He snaps his hips roughly into yours, causing the slick noise of skin on skin contact to erupt throughout the room. He grunted as he fucked you with ruthless abandon, not caring as you released noises a mix between sobs and moans.
His movements grew more forceful causing your entire body to bounce and shake with each rough thrust."気に入ったのか?このクソビッチ。あ、ああ、どこ見てるかわからないじゃないか。"(You like that huh? You lil slut A- ah~ shoulda watched where you were going)
He bit onto the back of your shoulder as he leaned into you pining you even closer to the bed. It took one angled and well-calculated thrust before your orgasm ripped through you. It wasn’t long before the warm knot in your stomach snapped and his hips stuttered against yours while the feeling of warm liquid poured into your insides. "Please let me go. I’m sorry.” you whimpered with your head low.
"だめ"(No)
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blueiscoool · 1 month ago
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Haul of Historic Coins Sells For $176,000 at Auction
A British man who found a massive cache of ancient Roman gold and silver coins while hunting with a metal detector has a lot more modern currency in his pocket after the treasure was auctioned off for $176,000.
George Ridgway, a trained archaeologist, investigated an unusual marking in a recently harvested field in Suffolk, England in September 2019, according to a news release from Noonans Auctions. He knew that a Roman road had once run close to the field, and thought there might be something to find.
Hours scouring the area turned up nothing, he said, but when he shifted his position by just 30 yards, he found two Roman brooches that dated back to the 1st century. Shortly after, he found a silver coin issued by Julius Caesar in 46 BC. Another three hours of searching turned up 160 more silver coins and some pottery fragments.
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"I knew I had made an important archaeological discovery and called my dad to guard the site overnight while we waited for an archaeological team to arrive and excavate the site," the 34-year-old said. "It took three months to recover the hoard."
During that excavation, researchers found even more coins, including gold pieces. In total, 748 coins, dated from as early as 206 B.C., were recovered. Alice Cullen, a coin specialist at the auction house, said it was one of the largest hoards of Iron Age and Roman coins found in the United Kingdom. The coins may have been buried by a long-serving soldier in Rome's XX Legion, who were once stationed in what would later be known as Colchester, England, Cullen said. There was a "fierce battle" in the area around 47 A.D., Cullen said, and a victim of the conflict may have been the person who buried the coins.
Sixty-three of the coins were claimed by the British Museum and the Colchester & Ipswich Museum, to be displayed in their collections, and the rest were auctioned. While the auction house expected the sale to garner about $100,000, it actually brought in more than $176,000, according to CBS News partner the BBC.
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A coin issued by Gaius Caesar - also known as Caligula - decorated with a portrait of the Empress Agrippina and dated to A.D. 37-38 sold for about $9,295, according to the BBC. Another coin, issued by Claudius and dated to A.D. 41-42, sold for about $6,640.
Ridgway said the proceeds of the sale will be split between himself and the landowner of the site where the coins were found. He said that such a find has been like a dream come true.
"I was inspired by my childhood hero Indiana Jones to start history hunting when I was 4 years old, and I dreamed of finding a Roman hoard since my grandmother bought me a metal detector for my 12th birthday," Ridgway said. "It was an awe-inspiring moment when I realised that I had found one!"
By Kerry Breen.
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euphoricfilter · 1 year ago
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Devil That I Know: The Prologue
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Pairing: Demon! Jungkook x Human! F. Reader
Genre: Fluff || Smut || Angst || Demon au || Non-Idol au || Yandere au || Reincarnation || Strangers to Lovers
Summary: It's a shame how refuge will become your downfall.
Word Count: 3.3k
Tags/ warnings: mentioned death/ murder, sacrifice, sexy demon jungkook who has 4 arms, jimin is just mean (for now), the start of the yandere and just taehyung being a cutie
Notes: she’s back! and better than ever, new and improved, my baby <3 even if you’ve read the old version of dtik, i recommend reading again!! there has been a few added elements + way better writing!
devil that i know masterlist || my other stuff
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
[a little death]
[1859]
Death seemed to have found solace in your shadow. Slithering around your ankles and chewing up any unfortunate living being you came across; acting as a parasite, touch of your fingers sticky poison. The rawest form of hatred radiating off your skin into the world, a curse. 
A simple wish for the price of a life, and maybe this was the universe’s sick joke, that you’ll live to suffer while the rest of the world carries the burden of a small selfish wish.
Maybe death has found home in your sorrows, wretched sadness, anguish, ugly ugly emotions cradling you like a mother would her child. Truly pitiful comfort where anger is useless.
It must have been almost a year ago your misfortune had truly started, foolishly leaving a life you never wanted. Though you suppose you never really had a choice, this day was inevitable when you were the odd one out, a leech, a pitiful child– not that that mattered at all to the man who was the starting point of your resentment. 
A wish for a life that was solely your own. A wish you never thought had been too big of an ask, leaving fragile hope in the hands of fate, praying that the world would take pity on your wilted soul. 
Now, freedom was a day’s journey away. Coastline so close yet so far away, a new life, one you’d been dreaming of since young, slipping through your fingers like dry sand– every step forward, the sea pulling away until you’re chasing after sodden dreams, leaving you stranded at the shore. 
Life looked like a damp cell in a run-down village, barely holding on; dependent on trade, though only one other village thrives in this area, hours away– over the mountain. Trips far and few with the horses they have, produce barely worth a piece of gold. 
The true situation of the village should have become apparent at their panic of unexpected visitors. Accusations spat your way, your own life flashing before your eyes, only for your friend to bear the brunt of their temper. No one of them had thought to hear you out, their words like venom, because in their eyes you’d come to spy on their village, a lie that would ruin you. 
You weren’t like them; and so you’d become an easy target. 
Secrets locked behind closed doors, lies fed to those clueless of what really happened when the sun falls over the horizon and the world is shrouded in darkness. 
Corruption was everywhere, the world so unfair, where fickle human emotions consume those greedy enough to sell their souls for power, for something more, anything to get out of their awful little lives. 
If you told a lie long enough, if you yourself believed in it, then surely it must be true. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
You’d never expected your first encounter with death, you suppose no one really does. And in your months of solitude, locked up against your will, you’ve learnt you can’t change the past. No matter how many tears wet the dry ground, how much you scream, how much you pray to anyone listening, the past will forever be how it is and you can’t change that. 
Regret is an awful emotion, a million ‘what ifs’ consuming your mind. What if you and your friend had chosen the village over the mountain? What if you had never decided to leave? What if you had traveled alone?
If things had been different, minute details that could have changed the whole course of your life, then maybe your friend would still be alive. Maybe you’d have found the coast, hair windswept as you stand on the deck of the boat, life that of a bird; free. 
You could never see much out of the small window of your cell, rare that the sun would dare poke its head in to say hello, never there to kiss your cheeks red, or warm frozen toes.
The nights had started to get colder, the few seconds you got to see the outside world through the open door is enough for you to know the leaves had begun falling off the trees. Dusty path blanketed with reds and oranges, footsteps harder to hear on the few days you’re fed– never more than what’s left over from the village men. 
The second time death had chosen to lurk was when a crisis had become of the village. Their crops rotting, black mold greedy in the way it had chewed through their livestock. Animals sent from the gods, lay dead on the ground, useless when their harvest season was right around the corner. 
“An evil spirit has cursed the lands” 
You’d wondered how you’d escaped the clutches of death a second time. But your purpose had become apparent when you’d heard whispers of the demon that lived in the mountains. A ruler of this very land.
Rumors carried by the wind had told you that he’d become restless, that the townspeople needed a sacrifice to sate his growing rage. They couldn’t go a season without crops, and none of the men dared push their wives forward as the gift. 
And so you, had been the sacrifice. The true purpose of them keeping you locked up and alive, was to act as their gift for the one that lived in the mountains.
Human fear is often the scariest, compassion absolutely destroyed, empathy non-existent. 
That’s why you don’t find yourself begging when you’re woken up one morning, cold water a shock to the system. Adrenaline useless as it pumps through your veins. It doesn’t take long for you to grasp the reason one of the village boys had come to see you so early, the sun barely having woken herself. 
You cough, wiping your wet face with the backs of your hand. Eyebrows creased into a frown as your eyes flit over to the entrance of your cell. 
“Get up” 
He mustn't be much older than you, pretty lips turned down into a prominent frown that you have to will yourself not to scoff at. Because really if anyone should frown as though the world were against them, it should be you. 
You don’t move, a dangerous game you’d been playing since you’d first arrived in the village. Because if you acted as though you didn’t understand them, language not your own, then you’d keep a little bit of your freedom. Ignorance covered as misunderstandings; actions out of spite, simply accidents. 
The boy tuts, door to the cell creaking, almost yanked off it hinges as he strides towards you. He’s rough as he grabs onto your arms, pulling you up from the sorry excuse of a bed. You pull your arms from his grip, skin prickly with pure hatred. 
“Change into these” he shoves a pile of clothes into your arms, tattered underwear falling to the floor.
If you had any shame, maybe you’d be a little embarrassed as he turns around, arms crossed over his chest. Though it seemed that any lick of shame that dared plague your mind, was consumed by anger as you yank your clothes off—Wringing your wet hair out, rolling the bottoms of the pants up. 
You flinch at the sound of another voice, “Jimin, are you almost done?”
The village boy turns around, eyes raking over your body, “Almost” he calls back. 
You eye the open door as Jimin steps out of your cell, “Don’t even think about it” 
It’s uncomfortable how tight he ties the ropes, hands bound behind your back where one mean tug from Jimin could send you tumbling face first into the floor. 
And it’s infinitely more uncomfortable how the whole village seems to gather, the chief parading you down the split path of people like a prize as Jimin watches your back.
A gift sent from the heavens to save their village, to save their people. Ironic when months ago everyone had been cursing your existence, asking why they should keep you locked up, why you hadn’t died beside your friend. 
It takes almost a day to hike up the mountain on foot, they may have thought of you as their sacrificial savior, that didn’t mean they were willing to waste their resources on you. 
Sweat tickles the back of your neck, hair clinging to your skin uncomfortably. You’re tired. Moments away from your legs giving way, willing to let the sun melt your skin and bones until you become one with the earth. Summer sun still clinging onto the sky before the seasons truly change.
The world takes pity on you as you stumble over your own feet, almost headbutting Jimin’s back as he stops. Your heart is in your throat as reality sets in, the rumors of a demon true. It didn’t look like anyone lived here; picket fence damp, old in a way that bugs had chewed through the wood.
Your eyes settle on the sign that hangs from a tree branch– “Jeon”. 
Jimin grabs the thick rope of the bell, muscles in his arms flexing as he announces your arrival. 
The shred of hope that you held in your heart shatters when you hear the crunch of footsteps. Silhouette of a man wandering through the archway of trees behind the fence.
You think he looks more like an angel than a demon, hair a fluffy mess, almost cute in the way he almost trips over his sandals. He catches himself before he can fall, stopping in front of Jimin on the other side of the gate. 
He places a hand over his heart, taking his time in catching his breath– and you can see Jimin’s patience wearing thin, heel of his boot tapping against the grass. Face etched into a permanent scowl that you can only assume is your doing.
You wet your lips at the sound of the boy’s voice, deeper than you’d expected, “Hello, how may I help you?” 
Your eyes fixate on the mole sat at the tip of his nose. 
“Are you the demon that resides here?” Jimin tugs you forward, heavy hand falling on the back of your neck. 
“Oh–” the man’s eyes widen, running a hand through his hair, “No, he’s inside” 
You peek over his shoulder, path veiled by trees, dark abyss waiting beyond the rotted gate. A world that looked so far from your own, a little secret hidden between the trees.
Jimin hums, “Here” he pats your back, “A delivery from the village” 
You dig your heels further into the ground as Jimin’s fingertips trail over your back, silent warning to do whatever you’re told. Maybe a cruel little goodbye, because the both of you knew that you might not ever make it out of there alive.
He waves at you as he starts his descent down the mountain, sadistic little smile of his face.  
Now would be a good time to run, though you wouldn’t know where to go. You suppose anything would be better than this. Maybe if you begged nicely the demon would kill you painlessly; maybe listening to your cries of mercy. Granting you an easy death so you could finally rest. 
The demon’s friend slips through the fence, “Do you understand me? Are you okay?” 
You nod. So many words hanging on the tip of your tongue, though you don’t seem to know what to say first. 
“I’m Taehyung” he tells you, smile fragile as he moves to take a look at your bound wrists. “May I?” he asks, and you turn to give him better access to your back. 
“What’s your name?” 
You swallow, wetting your dry throat, “Y/n” 
“Jungkook is really nice, I’m sure he’ll let you stay for a while” 
It’s weird how even as the ropes make a dull thump against the damp ground, you don’t feel any more free than you had when you’d been bound. 
Opening the gate, Taehyung motions for you to step inside, letting you follow him down the path and into the open area. Your eyes wander over the courtyard, freshly fallen leaves the color of a sunset scattered across the grass. Stood through the archway of trees stands the heart of the house. 
Without knocking, Taehyung pulls the door open. Intricately crafted table sat in the middle of the room.
He sits at the table like royalty, posture that of a king– clothes that of a nobleman. He looked younger than Taehyung, book held by one hand ever so elegantly, really he could be mistaken for a royal if it weren’t for the inky black snake that peeks out of the sleeve of his shirt. 
You try not to linger on his extra pair of arms. Breath catching in your throat when they fold over his stomach. Entirely unhuman, something you’d never seen before.
His eyes flicker over your face, turning to Taehyung with his eyebrow raised. You flinch as he shuts his book, full attention now on you and his friend. 
“Who’s this?” 
You feel the embarrassment lick up your spine as he takes in the way you’re dressed, warm blush surely flushing your cheeks pink. Both of your lives so dramatically different. 
Taehyung clears his throat when you don’t say anything, “This is Y/n” 
“Does she understand us?” Jungkook asks, curious eyes meeting your own. Taehyung turns to you, nudging your shoulder with his elbow. 
“I do” and Jungkook hums, a little taken aback with how formal you’d come off. 
“Why are you here?” there’s no malice in his voice, simple curiosity. Something you hadn’t been expecting. And you wish he had just shouted, unexpected understanding strange when you had prepared for the worst. 
Taehyung grabs a pillow from under the table, fingertips barely grazing your back as he helps you sit opposite Jungkook. 
“I’ll make us some tea” Taehyung smiles. A whisper for him to stay stuck on the tip of your tongue as he wanders further into the back room leaving you alone with Jungkook. 
Your eyes stay trained in your lap, picking at your nails, fiddling with the hem of your shirt; really anything to keep you from having to look into Jungkook’s eyes. 
“I asked a question” he reminds you, “why are you here?” 
“I’m a sacrifice. A gift from the people in the village of the east” 
“A gift?” he urges, utterly enraptured by the mind of humans. 
“Their land had been cursed, or so they say” you meet his eyes, “this is an offering for you to save the land, to sate your anger. That’s all I know, no one ever spoke much around the cell they kept me in” 
“Cell?” his eyebrows raise, curious.
You hum, “It is nothing but rumors, but they say the king wanted people like myself dead, the chief had told his people I’d come to spy on them. That my life would be of use, so they let me live” 
“Is that so?” Jungkook falls back, holding himself up by his arms, “Taehyung hadn’t told me such rumors were going around” 
You open your mouth, a question that’s been playing on your mind since a child put to an abrupt stop when Taehyung wanders back into the room. Teacup and delicate little porcelain plates balanced on a wooden tray. 
“Thank you” your voice is barely above a whisper as your fingers delicatly take hold of the cup. 
“So–” Taehyung starts, taking a seat beside you, “are you staying with us?”
Your hand flies to your mouth, a lame attempt in covering a cough as your eyes meet Jungkook’s. 
“Please? I could always use the extra help” Taehyung continues, arm slung over your shoulder, “What do you think?” 
Jungkook raises an eyebrow, head tilting in question. It’s strange how far you can get lost in someone’s eyes, how for some it’s ever so easy to nitpick seemingly insignificant changes in expression. Maybe it had been a self-defense mechanism, a means to survive, but you’d always felt you’d been good at knowing how people felt, knowing where to build a wall, draw a line, anything.
Jungkook was a strange being, how what lies beneath his gaze is unattable no matter how long you search.
Jungkook’s eyes gave no indication as to how he felt about you. Expression eerily neutral that even if you were to ask him how he felt, his tone would be of no help. Someone so in control of their body and mind, someone above that of natural human nature; and you suppose thats only fair considering he weren’t a mortal like you or Taehyung. 
“You guys do whatever you want” Jungkook picks up his book, touch gentle as he flips back to the page he’d left. 
You turn to Taehyung, “If it’s okay, then I don’t mind staying” because living a life secluded from the world, protected by the rotting gate at the end of the path, was a safer way to live than travelling alone with no place to call home.
And as long as Jungkook held no resentment towards you, letting you live a life of peace, even if only for a fleeting moment—then maybe you’d hold onto that last selfish little sliver of hope. 
Taehyung takes ahold of your hands, the prettiest smile gracing his face, “You must be exhausted. How about a bath? You’ll have to wear some of my clothes until I can make you some–” 
“Tae” Jungkook laughs, “Slow down, you’ll overwhelm her” 
Taehyung’s fingers intertwine with your own, tugging you to stand.
You turn back to Jungkook before Taehyung can drag you out of the room, “Thank you” you call out to him.
He waves you off, thumb running over his bottom lip, “It’s nothing” and really it wasn't, he already housed one human, what was one more? Not when like Taehyung, you’d been betrayed by your own kind.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
“Have you heard of any rumors circulating the village?” Jungkook asks his friend, Taehyung running a hand through his hair. Having left you to wash up and change before he would show you your new bedroom.
“Rumours?” Taehyung’s head tilts a little.
Jungkook hums, “About the king” 
“None” he shakes his head, “Only whispers about bandits raiding the outskirts of the capital” 
“Nothing about any spies?” 
Taehyung’s tongue runs over his bottom lip, back straightening slightly as he gazes down at Jungkook. “Is this about Y/n?” 
Jungkook sighs, “Something’s happening in the east, don’t go there from now on” 
Taehyung nods, “I’ll keep an eye on her, just in case” 
“I doubt there’s a need. The two of you are quite similar” Jungkook hums, “Just make sure she’s comfortable, that’s all I ask” 
“And you?” 
Jungkook pushes himself to stand, “Nothing much will change around here” 
Taehyung’s role in Jungkook’s life hadn’t been a coincidence. And as much as it felt like Jungkook was the one helping Taehyung, demons were a little more selfish than that. Sure, Jungkook gave Tae a second chance at life, but that was only because he wanted something from him. It all worked out in the end, Jungkook made his first friend and Taehyung lived comfortable. 
You, however, Jungkook hadn’t seeked you out. You were handed to him by the graces of hell, destiny walking you up this mountain. Adorably strong-willed, though perhaps too trusting of the very being that could bring you to your downfall.
Jungkook was anything but a saviour, everything he ever did was only to with his own wellbeing in mind. But you, you were the one thing that he hadn’t planned. An anomaly thrusted in his face, how could he turn away his gift from the world?
Your desire for freedom was endearing, the human will to live something Jungkook found utterly intriguing when all the world seemed to do was fuck you over. Naïve hope disguised by a hard exterior, pitiful in the way the world had rejected your mere existence. Something Jungkook was more willing to use, arms curling around your fragile existence.
Because as much as you thought of him as your refuge, he knew that he would become your downfall.
220 notes · View notes
size0forhollywood · 19 days ago
Text
Metafiction
Pt 8
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Content Warning: 21+, murder, drugging, fluff, smut, nsfw. Love making.
A/N: had to listen to the Bridgerton ost to get the vibes going for the end of this chapter...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Mhmm, that’s right. A girl and a hunter.”
The motel owner was talking on the phone, mindlessly flipping a gold coin between her fingers and chewing on her gum.
Her face twists, “ not my fault you sent men incapable of catching them. I did my part.”
A black feather falls in front of the motel owner.
“Fuc-!” She’s flung back against the wall behind her, black and red mist pinning her.
“Sylus!” She strains.
A black tendril picks up her phone from the ground and put its in Sylus’ hand. The caller has hung up already.
His red eyes are like lasers on the motel owner, watching her struggle.
“Where’s the girl?” His deep voiced boomed.
The motel owner starts writhing in pain, as the black and red mist starts to constrict her.
“I-I don’t know! They left without checking out!” She cries in pain.
“Who did you sell her out to?” He snarled.
“I didn’t!” She protested.
A black tendril wraps around her head and starts constricting. Her eyes going wide, looking like they’re about to burst from her skull.
“You all still think you can lie to me.”
The motel owner lets out a strained laugh.
“For the first time in years we have hope. You’ve been so distracted by this girl that you haven’t noticed what’s going on here anymore.”
Blood starts leaking out from her eyes and ears.
“The Woman is playing chess while you’re still stuck on checkers.” She laughs hysterically.
Her laugh turns into a scream as her head suddenly implodes. Fragments of skull, brain matter and blood spray on the wall.
“Boss, we’ve searched the surrounding area. You should come see this.” Kieran’s voice comes through on the earpiece.
“Checking out love.” He says to the decapitated motel owner’s body.
He catches up with Luke and Kieran who are standing just off the road in the dirt. Signs of a wanderer attack littered the ground and dead trees.
“Two sets of footprints in that direction but then they disappear once they’re back on the road.” Luke informs Sylus.
“Mephisto.”
Mephisto just caws and takes off into the sky, already knowing Sylus’ request.
You were within reach, he could feel it.
~
The sound of footsteps drag along the ground. Yours.
Xavier had one arm wrapped around you as you walk through the N109 Zone. You don’t know how long you two have been walking for.
Your mind was blank, broken from the mind games the wanderer tortured you with.
He didn’t say anything after your kiss. He just hugged you for a moment, letting you cry out the remainder of your emotions. Now you’ve got nothing left in you.
No fight. No will. Nothing.
Xavier’s tenderness to you over the last 48 hours has shown you just how messed up your life has been for the last few months with Sylus. And you detest yourself as one part of your heart still wants to go back. To run out of Xavier’s arms and find Sylus.
Xavier’s hand rubs up and down your shoulder. He could feel you tensing up.
“It’s okay.” He whispers.
Your body starts to tremble even more.
“I can’t go to Linkon with you..”
Xavier stops walking, his blue eyes searching your face. Trying to understand why you’re still so resistant.
“How many more things have to happen before you realise Linkon City is the safest place for you?”
You shake your head. “I need to find Sylus. He’s trying to help me get home.”
Xavier grazes the back of his fingers down your cheek.
“He’s manipulated you so much that you can’t see what he’s actually doing…” he frowns a little. “Sylus is a monster who does things for his own personal gain.”
You try to pull away but Xavier’s grip on you is too strong.
“No, it’s not like that. He’s not like that with me.” You keep trying to wriggle yourself free.
“Please Xavier, don’t take me to Linkon.” A dry sob escapes you.
Xavier looks at you with glassy eyes. “Forgive me.” He whispers.
“No. No, Xavier ?”
You feel a slight sting in the side of your neck. Your eyes glued to Xavier’s in shock before everything starts getting blurry. Your mind begins to turn off.
You slump in Xavier’s arms as the tranquilliser fully takes root. He pats the back of your head.
“I’m sorry.” He whispers to your unconscious body.
~ we’re getting knocked out a lot aren’t we y/n?
When you start to come to, something feels different. It’s as if your surroundings are bright while your eyes are still closed and you screw your eyes for a moment to go back to the familiar darkness.
Your head and body are laying on something soft and warm and it’s a struggle to want to open yours eyes but that damn light is forcing you to.
You still feel a bit woozy but you open your eyes taking in your surroundings, another bedroom. But it was so light and airy. A window which led to the balcony was open to let in a cool draft and natural light. You can hear the soft sounds of the city.
Once your head starts to feel like it isn’t spinning again you sit up in the bed. You can hear the sounds of someone rummaging around.
“Xavier?”
You hear footsteps from down the hall get louder.
Xavier appears with a glass of water in hand. He’s wearing jeans and a white hoodie.
He sits down next to you on the edge of the bed and holds the water out to you.
“Why?” Your voice hitched in your throat and you try to stop yourself from crying again.
“It was the only way.. I’m sorry.”
You bring your knees up to your chest and hug them. You look away from Xavier. Refusing his glass of water.
Xavier sighs and places the glass of water on the bed side table.
“Please try to drink it. It’ll make you feel better.” He stands up and starts making his way down the hall again, disappearing around the corner.
You stare out the open window, watching the curtains gracefully flap in the breeze. A little yellow and white bird perches itself on the balcony rail, tweeting a little song before flying off again.
What were you going to do now? How were you going to get word to Sylus that you’re in Linkon? Did you still want to let Sylus know? Was this truly the best place for you?
You feel a pain in your chest. If Xavier was going to help you he needs to know everything Sylus knows. You swing your legs over the side of the bed, a little wobbly on your feet but once you start walking you find your balance.
Xavier is sitting on his couch reading a comic book. An open packet of mini cookies in his lap. He’s so engrossed in the comic he doesn’t notice you standing in the living room.
You clear your throat. Xavier finally looks up. He gives you a soft smile and holds the packet of mini cookies up to you.
“Want some?”
You feel a small smile tug at your lips but you shake your head. “No I’m okay.”
“Okay.” He puts the packet on the coffee table and moves over to one side of the couch.
“Do you want to sit down with me?”
You nod and sit down next to Xavier on his couch. Trying not to encroach too much into his personal space. Xavier puts the comic down and looks at you.
“I want to tell you everything.” You whisper.
Xavier doesn’t say anything he just nods.
“I think you know I’m not from here. I’m from a world where none of this is real.” You shift a little.
“I mean all of this. Linkon, the N109 Zone, you, Sylus… in my world it’s all fiction. You’re mobile video game characters..” your cheeks turn a slight shade of pink. “For a dating game…”
You avoid Xavier’s gaze feeling too embarrassed to look at him but you continue talking.
“One day I found an injured baby crow outside my house. I patched him up and nursed him. When I was changing his bandages his eyes.. they started glowing.”
You bite your lip.
“Next thing I know a wormhole appears above me and I get sucked in. When I fell out of it I appeared inside of Sylus’ base.”
You finally get the courage to look at Xavier.
“So, the unknown protocores at this other wormhole site, I honestly have no idea. I don’t know why they’re there or what they have to do with me. Please believe me Xavier.”
Xavier looks away from your gaze his hand rubbing the back of his neck. Face flushed.
“So that’s how you know my name…”
“I.. it’s not as weird as it sounds I promise.”
Xavier glances back at you.
“I didn’t say that..”
A silence falls between you two as you stare each other red faced.
Xavier finally looks away.
“Is it okay, if I report this to my Captain?”
Honestly you’re shocked he’s even asking you. You assumed he’d tell her anyways but him asking for your consent.. it was actually kind of sexy.
Xavier served as a pretty good distraction to your mind over the next couple of weeks. You two had a nice routine going at his apartment. You cooked dinner and kept the apartment clean when he was at work.
He tried to add your fingerprint to his door lock but your finger print couldn’t be recognised. So, He went out of his way to change the locks and gave you a key.
Xavier let you sleep in his bed and he would sleep on the couch. You told him he shouldn’t have to do that but he insisted that he could sleep anywhere and get a good rest.
He even bought you a whole range of clothes and other personal hygiene necessities.
You could feel you two were getting closer, emotionally. Through gentle touches, if he was home early while you were making dinner he’d come up behind you and give you a back hug, resting his chin on your shoulder.
Sometimes you’d snuggle up to each other on the couch while watching a movie.
It was amazing. It really was.
But your heart still ached for Sylus.
Every day you’d go to that field with the cherry blossom trees. The one Sylus, despite it weakening him, laid down with you soaking up the sunlight.
You sit down in the field. Praying to yourself that Sylus will just know to come here and take you away with him.
But every day you’re there he doesn’t show up and the ache in your heart deepens. Did he forget about you? Were you no longer his problem?
You wipe a singular tear from your cheek and head to the shops to buy some snacks for Xavier.
When you get back to the apartment the smell of smoke tickles your nose, you rush to unlock the door worried you left something on.
You rush to the kitchen to see Xavier frantically moving around.
“Xavier? What are you doing?”
He put a pan that was smoking in his sink and ran cold water over it.
“I got home early and wanted to cook you something..” he looked at you embarrassed “but I fell asleep.”
You can’t help but burst out laughing. You walk up to Xavier and hold his face in your hands.
“You really don’t have to do anything like that, I’m your guest here, I need to earn my keep.” Your smile was wide.
He placed a hand on your hip as he held your gaze, that familiar pink glow across his cheeks. The small touch making your heart beat faster.
“Um..we better open the windows to let the smoke out..” you whisper.
Xavier nods and you go to all the windows and open them. Letting the cool breeze drift through out the house and clear out the burnt smell.
“Well lucky I bought some snacks.” You joked. “Do you wanna watch a movie while we’re eating them?”
“I’d love that.”
You move some pillows around on the couch, Xavier peeps into the shopping bags.
“These are my favourite..” he barely whispered.
“What was that Xav- huh?”
Xavier came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you, he nestled his face against the nape of your neck.
“Uh… Xavier?”
“You smell nice…”
You feel a knot in your stomach. What was with the sudden affection? Just when you think your cheeks couldn’t get any redder they do.
“Xavier… what are you..”
His grip loosens around you, “nothing.” He whispers, his breath against your neck sending tingles down your whole spine.
Xavier lets you go and flops himself onto the couch, holding an arm out.
“Gonna join me?”
You smile and cuddle up next to him. His arm around your shoulder holding you close to him.
He picks a movie but you don’t seem to be able to concentrate on it. In fact you’re more aware of how Xavier’s hand had slowly moved from your arm to your waist through out the movie.
How his fingers were drawing circles and lines going from your hip back to your waist.
How every time he chuckled whenever there was a funny part in the movie and eventually you found yourself looking away from the tv and just focusing on his beautiful face.
The way he licks his lips after eating a snack. You feel your own lips part slightly at the sight of it, a desire building in you to taste his lips.
You shake your head and force yourself to focus back on the movie.
The movie finishes and you untangle yourself from Xavier’s grip sitting up and stretching your arms.
“Did you not like the movie? You didn’t laugh once.”
You freeze, arms up in the air refusing to look back at him.
“Oh I guess I just had a few things on my mind.”
Xavier moves to the edge of the couch till his thighs are touching yours.
“Are you okay?” His palm rests on your lower back and the other hand rests on your thigh.
You pull your arms down and turn your head to look at him.
He has a look in his eyes, something you think you know but there’s no way right?
“I guess I’m just a bit tired..”
Your breath quickens as Xavier leans in closer to your face. His hand giving your thigh a gentle squeeze.
“Xavier…” you feel yourself leaning closer too, lips almost touching.
“I think I should go to bed..” you whisper.
Neither one of you move, Xavier swallows before gently nodding.
“Okay..” he whispers back. He stops touching you and sits back on the couch. “Thank you for the snacks.” He smiles at you but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
“.. no problem.”
You quickly head to the bathroom, feeling like you need to have a nice cold shower.
You let the water fall down your body, head resting against the tiles. What are you doing? You can’t let yourself go there with Xavier, right? You two have a good thing going. Don’t ruin it! You tell yourself.
Once you’re dressed in your nightie you open the door and Xavier is standing outside the bathroom shirtless holding a towel.
“Oh sorry..”
“No, I’m sorry..” Xavier steps aside so you can pass.
You turn back to face him, holding your hands together in front you.
“Goodnight Xavier.”
He leans against the door to the bathroom and smiles. “Goodnight… darling.”
You blush at the pet name and hurriedly walk to the bedroom. Xavier’s eyes watching you the entire time.
You were lying in bed for hours, watching the shadows dance across the roof. Unable to sleep. Your mind only thinking about one thing. Xavier.
What’s the harm of giving into one kiss? You’ve shared one with him before and nothing happened.
You feel an ache that you can’t ignore growing inside…and in between your legs. Tossing and turning. You sit up in bed and stare down the hallway.
Okay, you’re going to do it.
You get out of bed and make your way to the living room. Just before you reach the end of the hall Xavier appears. His expression mirroring yours, his cheeks red.
You both close the distance between you and he wraps his arms around you lifting you up and kissing you. Your arms resting on his shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair as you deepen the kiss.
His lips felt so soft against yours, your whole body felt warm from his touch. As if stars were bursting inside you.
You pull away, foreheads pressed together.
“I’ve been wanting to do that all night.” Xavier admits, he playfully nudges his nose against yours.
“Xavier… I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.”
Xavier smiles and starts walking to the bedroom. He moves so effortlessly and gracefully while carrying you.
Once he gets to the bed he lays you down gently, a finger caressing your cheek for a moment. He looked beautiful in the soft glow of the moonlight.
He lays down next to you, on his side looking up and down your body. You turn over to face him.
Taking him in, his soft smile, his naked torso. His boxers sitting dangerously low on his hips.
You make eye contact with him again, your face flushed but so was he. You both having the same thoughts about each other.
“Xavier.” You whisper as you bring a hand to his face. Gently palming his cheek.
Xavier leans into your touch, his pink cheeks and nose making his eyes seem more blue somehow. He was gorgeous.
Xavier has already healed your mind… maybe he could heal your heart too?
He rests his hand on your hip giving it a gentle squeeze.
"I like having you here with me. You make me look forward to coming home." Xavier whispers.
"I like waiting for you." You admit.
Something flickers in Xavier's eyes, he leans over, gently forcing you to lay on your back again and presses himself on top of you now. You can feel his erection pressing up against your inner thigh and it makes your mouth go dry.
He kisses you again, a bit more aggressively than before. Both of your desires rising to the surface. Wanting to be set free.
You slip your tongue out and prod at his lip, he opens his mouth and accepts your tongue. Both of you fighting for dominance. His hands start exploring your body, wanting to feel every inch of you and commit it to his memory. Xavier starts leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw and down your neck. Nibbling and sucking in various spots, leaving his mark on you.
Tiny moans escape your mouth. His lips feel so good against your skin. Xavier pulls his head up for a moment to look at you.
"Are you sure?"
You nod your head. "Yes, so sure."
Xavier smiles as he sits back, pulling you up with him. His hands pull at the hem of your nightie and start lifting it up. You lift your arms up so it can slide easily off you. Xavier leans down and starts kissing your chest, working his way to take the fullness of your breasts in his mouth. His hand playing with the other breast, massaging, gently squeezing. His lips lock around your nipple, sucking, nibbling, swirling his tongue around to taste as much as possible.
Your hands tangle themselves in his hair, his soft blonde locks sending extra sensations through your fingers.
"Mm that feels good Xav..."
Your moan and compliment seems to spur him on as he starts to get more aggressive. His desire burning for you. He pushes you back down onto your back. The sudden movement sending a wave of excitement through you. His fingers hooks the waist band of your panties and he starts to shimmy them off you. You lift your hips off the bed to make it easier for him.
"You're so beautiful darling." He says as he starts kissing your hip.
You can feel the anticipation building in your stomach as he slowly inches closer to your center. Where its aching and just begging to be touched. You bite your lower lip, supressing your sounds of pleasure.
Xavier is hovering over your cunt, you can feel his breath on your mounds. "Don't hide that beautiful voice. I want to hear everything."
He drags his tongue in between your folds, getting the taste of you for the first time. It was intoxicating for him. You let out a moan as he goes back again, getting his tongue as deep as he can go inside your cunt. Wanting to feel your heat on his tongue, to taste your arousal. “Nng. Xavier..” you gasp out. He loves the way your body starts moving under him, wanting to grind up to his face, telling him that you want more. He starts to give your clit attention, which earns him more moans and more thrusting to his face. But he doesn’t give you more yet. No, he’s enjoying making you squirm, making you chase that friction that you’re so desperate for. Your legs start to tremble as you feel such an overwhelming stimulation on your clit and you haven’t even orgasmed yet.
“Xav.. please..” you beg.
You need to feel something inside you. To take the intensity away from your clit. His tongue was like magic. Xavier groans when he hears you begging and he almost wants to give in. He doubles down moving his whole face with his tongue. Adding a lot of pressure then taking it away.
You start to whimper, a pressure is building in your lower belly. Tears sting your eyes. You’re bucking your hips up a bit harder into his face now, so absolutely desperate to feel something other than the welcome assault of his tongue on your clit.
“Xavier.. please… fuck me.” Your whimper and moan.
God any resolve he had left was gone. He pulled away licking his lips. Xavier removed his boxers swiftly, his erection free at last. Precum leaking from the tip.
He lines himself up with your soaking wet pussy. Pressing the head in between your dripping folds. You bite your lip. Xavier lifts one of your legs to rest on his hip. His hand gripping just above your knee tightly. His blue eyes land on yours as he slowly inserts himself, his cheeks red. You don’t break eye contact with him as he slides in deeper, until he buries himself to the hilt.
“You feel incredible..” he gasps. Yours hands are on his shoulders, bringing him closer to you. Xavier rests his forehead against yours as he starts to slowly thrust. Getting used to the feeling of you around him.
Once he feels you relaxing he starts to go faster, bringing his cock almost all the way out and then slamming it back in. Your fingers nails are digging into his skin, but the pain just sends Xavier hungry for more. You’re moaning against his lips as he gets faster and harder, his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust.
“M-more Xav..” you moan out. “Oh.. fuck darling…” Xavier responds.
He pauses to throw your legs over his shoulders and then resumes fucking into you. Your hands now gripping the bed sheets, knuckles turning white.
“Mm Xav… that feels good!” He brings a hand back to your clit, massaging it with his fingers while he jackhammers into you. You throw your head back in so much pleasure as you feel an orgasm approaching.
“Xavier.. I’m gonna..”
“Ah I know darling… you’re getting so.. tight..” His finds your sweet spot with his cock and drives into you. Until your moans are uncontrollable. Your hot, wet, plush walls squeeze around Xavier’s cock. And he struggles to hold on.
But then he feels you vibrate around him as you orgasm. The spasm driving him crazy and pushing him over the edge. You both cum together. Your combined groans and moans like music to his ears. Once he feels you relax he starts to pull out his spent cock. Shuddering as he does.
He puts your legs down and then collapses next to you. His chest rising and falling. Sweat glistens his face and body. His fringe stuck to his forehead. He turns his head to look at you and smiles seeing your satisfaction.
Xavier pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead. “I could do this with you forever..”
within minutes he’s asleep. You chuckle to yourself as you get comfortable in his arms. Listening to the sound of his breathing. Letting it act as a lullaby to help you fall asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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octuscle · 1 year ago
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Fuck man using this app whilst I'm currently so horny might be a mistake but please tell me this thing has a forced growth feature. I'm so bored of being small already I just want to become so fucking huge the only thing I can fit in is under wear, skin tight gym shorts at the most. I want my stench and B.O to instantly fill up a room and make lesser men fall to their knees.
I just wanna be forced to become a young insanely huge freakshow of a bodybuilder.
RIPPPPPP! In the middle of lunch, the seam of your jacket rips open across your back. The whole restaurant is looking at you. You barely look up from your plate, on which instead of a coq au vin there are now six boiled chicken breasts with rice. You struggle to free yourself from the shreds of your jacket without stopping to gulp down your food.
RIPPPPPP! Your biceps burst the sleeves of your shirt. With your mouth full, you mumble something like "sorry" and just rip the remnants of the sleeves off the rest of the shirt. You eat your food like a pig. The glass of Merlot is now a canister of protein shake. Your colleagues and business partners stare at you with open mouths. You pause for a moment and do a double biceps pose. Fuck, the bushes under your armpits stink like a horse stable. You take a deep breath and grin. PIIIIING! Two of your shirt buttons can no longer withstand your pectoral muscles as you inhale and fly through the air like projectiles. You stand up with difficulty, apologize again with your mouth full and spit food scraps around. On the way to the toilet, you let loose a huge protein fart. A quick look in the mirror… You can throw away the shirt. For the rest of lunch it must still hold out with torn sleeves and unbuttoned. While you first fart and then burp even louder, your boss comes in. Holds you a telling off, what that was for an impossible behavior on your part. He asks you to leave the restaurant discreetly through the back exit. And to report to him in the office tomorrow morning.You put your hand to your temple in an "Aye Sir". And you fart again as a farewell.
Your fancy Porsche convertible groans as you squeeze your body into the tight seat. Fuck, the car is much too small for you. The remnants of the clothes you're wearing on your body are much too small for you. You desperately need a change of clothes. In your gym there is a small corner where they sell fitness clothes. And the gym is nearby, so you drive the car there. The receptionist stares at you. This is actually a posh place for yuppies and influencers who want to keep fit. Not for the big lads like you. You ask if they have anything to wear in your size. The lady asks you if you speak English. You repeat your question with a heavy Russian accent.
The only thing they have here in your size are shorts that are frighteningly tight on your thighs. At least there are shoes and socks in size 14. You look good. You do another pose in front of the mirror. The passing visitors of the gym hold their noses. You smell your armpit again. Good honest pumper sweat. You want to go to the training area when you are asked for your membership card. You search for your wallet in the rags that used to be your suit pants. There it is. But Anatol Ivanovich is not a member here. Anatol is a member of Gold's Gym.
You love your Jeep Wrangler Rubicon. A car like you. Massive and bursting with power. And fortunately well ventilated for any passengers. As you roll into the parking lot in front of the gym, you and your car stick out. This is certainly a place for the big guys. But you're the biggest of them.
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After the third set on the leg press, you take a deep breath. Yes, this is what a gym must smell like. Like burps. Like protein farts. Like sweat. Like testosterone. Just like you!
Found the pic of your new you @muscleaddictza
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h0ney-san · 1 year ago
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Okay i have to go to school but my ass is telling me to post something and last nigth i was imagine silly things for some SAGAU ideas-
If someone wants to use this ideas, you are free to do it! Just please tag me so i can see your work :D!
Okay so- yesterday i was with my mom and we were waching "howl's moving castle" from the studio ghibli, and i wonder...
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✑Imagine a Reader like Howl in SAGAU
Like- mf this could be a good trope, let me explain, i have some ideas, this is just taking inspiration of the movie because haven't read the book.
So, first thing of, after waking up in the middle of Mondstadt, out of fear of this case being a SAGAU Imposter AU or even a SAGAU Cult AU, you hide in Strormterror lair, mostly because it have tons of monsters and no one goes there, and because it was the most close safe space in the area you appear.
For the sake of God ( Or celestia- ) you HAVE powers, nothing that you have seen in game, the most close thing it would be magic that witch's or Mage's can make ( Like Alice or Gold, to your surprise ).
Now, time skip to the future, Teyvat is in panic, where are they Grace? Have they left? Are they alive?? No one knows, not even the Archons... not even CELESTIA- ( or maybe they do? Who knows... )
Then, in the middle of the nigth, a Yakasha that looks to the moon sees something, walking in the mounts of Dragonspine... ia not a Ruin guard, no... its nothing like that, is HUGE, and it have what looks like part of ruins attach to it, what in the name of Morax is that thing?
Needless to say, rumours in the 7 nations starts, children say that the Witch/Mage that live there is a monster who likes to eat children, people are confused because not even Fontaine have one of these things, so where did it come from?
The force from each nation, the knigths of Favonius, the Millelith, the Shogunate and Sangonomiya, Sumeru Akademiya, tropes from Fontaine, NO ONE have been capable to get close to it, when they try, a misterious mist appears and then its gone.
Little they know that the owner of that "Moving castle" is in the city's, buying normal things, and selling silly potions, to one that can help u to have better crops ( Cof cof not Watatsumi island buying all of that potion- ) or even one that can even make chronic diseases disappear... ( cOF FOF NOT BAIZHU GETTING JOBLESS- )
For now on, this is just a little idea, maybe i can make it a series? Idk, probably i will post later a Sagau impostor au for this idea, for now..
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See ya!
⸻ h0ney 🍯🐝.
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hawkinshorror94 · 13 days ago
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The Star and the Thief
Astarion Acunin (Royal AU) (Not Ascended)
I didn't proofread any of this and I will more than likely go back and edit this because I feel like my brain was sloughing off like hot wax while I wrote it. And it didn't come out as nearly as nice as it could have. The next chapter will be spicy, just kidding it will be absolute filthy debauchery.
Warnings: Knifes, some tomfoolery with knives and a certain vampire shoving his fingers where they do not belong.
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                                “I don’t need another friend
                                When most of them I can barely keep up with
                                Them perfectly able to hold my own hand
                                But I still can’t kiss my own neck”
001: Larcener
Tav must have been driven to madness as she made her way into the Vampire Lord’s home. The house was dark despite the shining sun outside, fitting for a vampire after all. Her boots were quiet against the lush red carpet, the few candlelight sconces lighting her path. An office, surely there was something valuable there, she shifts through the darkness doing her best to squint in the darkness, if only she had remembered a scroll of Darkvision. 
Her hands landed on a large bag of silver coins and in a bottom drawer a brooch. Holding it close to her face showed that it was one of ornate design, set in real gold a sparkling ruby shining even in the darkness. It was expensive, she tucked the items in her bag and made for the window she had snuck in through. As she stuck her first leg though she felt a large hand close around the back of her neck. She tried flailing hoping whatever had her would let go. If she could get into the sun she would be safe. The hand hauled her back through the open window as a silver sword hit her throat. 
“You’ve robbed the wrong person today.” The man was burly with a scar over his left eye, he held her easily as he shoved her into a well lit living area. Another man grabbed her free arm tightly, she tried to free herself but they held fast, one even kicked her in the back of the knee nearly sending her to the floor.
“Now who would try to steal from my home?” The voice sounded like velvet as the vampire lord stepped into the room, he carried with him an authority and power. It made Tav squirm under his gaze, he wore an elegant velvet and gold shirt and his hair looked like fresh fallen snow. “What’s your name girl?” He asked looking at her with a smirk, one of the guards smashed his elbow into her ribs.
“Tav, sir. I’m sorry, sir.” He smirked as he strode across to her, bending down till he was eye level with her. Ruby eyes met her crystalline ones and he smiled, his fangs bared as he did. 
“Oh, darling, you're not sorry, yet.” He snatched the stolen items from the guard looking at the coins and then the brooch. He tsked, looking at her frantic eyes as they raked over him. “A light handed thief, I see. I could have forgiven the coins, but the brooch, it’s rather important to me and what were you going to do with it. Sell it for a few meals.” He touched her boney cheek with a feather light finger, one that felt like ice touching her skin. 
“My sister is very sick, we have no parents and no money.” Tav squeaked as he ran a finger down her neck, along her pulsepoint before grasping her chin in between his fingers. His gaze commanded silence and she felt entranced as she looked at the man. 
“Shut up.” He said coolly drawing a dagger to her throat, it bit into her skin drawing crimson liquid that made his pupils blow wide in euphoria. 
“Please, I’ll do anything.” She whimpered as he pressed harder into her throat, he stopped just for a second. He looked up at her again, this time a cruel glint in his eyes.
“Oh sweet, you shouldn’t say things you won’t do.” He ran the blade of his dagger along her bottom lip pulling it out slightly and watching it go back into place. “Anything?” He asked her again, taking her chin in his hold again. 
“Yes sir, I don’t want to die.” She stammered, he smirked, circling her in the guards arms. Taking in her appearance, clear eyes, clear skin, rich black hair, a curvy body.
“I need a companion. A man like me goes through them pretty quickly. I tire of them or I kill them. But you're awfully pretty and I’d hate to waste an opportunity.  Plus, stealing from me like that was awfully bold and despite myself, I admire that.” He circled back around to her face, looking her in the eyes, looking for resignation in her eyes, a hint of doubt. “You’ll be my shadow, you stand on my arm at balls and business deals. You’ll keep that pretty little mouth shut unless I ask you to open it of course.” His smirk was wide as he touched her mouth again, this time sliding his fingers past her lips pressing against the flat of her tongue, she gagged and he laughed. “You’ll warm my bed of course and one day you might even bare my children. And of course you’ll let me feed on you whenever I please.” 
Tav looked at the man with wild eyes. This couldn’t be real life, she had to be dreaming, the taste of his fingers on her tongue said otherwise. The guard elbowed her again, expecting an answer for this master.
“I’ll do it. If you send doctors for my sister and take her somewheres safe.” She spoke firmly and with conviction, she would die if he wouldn’t help her. 
“I like you pet,” The vampire laughed tapping her nose “You get caught stealing from me and you’re making demands? I’ll do it, because I want you, sweet.” His voice sent a shiver down her spine “Let’s seal this deal with a kiss?” He smirked as her dark brows furrowed, looking at his mouth before her eyes trailed up to his eyes. 
She tensed as his fangs breached the soft skin of her throat, icy and cold, feeling his tongue lave against her neck. It all made her head spin and when he leaned away with her blood on his mouth, she felt sick, he leaned closer this time to her ear whispering,
“You’re mine now, thief”
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year ago
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could i request the bishops + lambert with a rat reader that's a master thief, but is from a place where the old faith didn't have a really tight grasp so the reader hasn't really ever heard of the cult or the old faith?
Leshy
Being a master thief has gotten you surprisingly far in life, stealing things from berry seeds to bags of gold. Enough to comfortably get by. You're just very stealthy in all you do.
When you visited Darkwood for the first time, it was fairly easy sneaking around by using the trees and bushes as cover.
You were practically invisible to the average person and not even the Droppers noticed you.
Unfortunately, the worms beneath your feet sensed you wandering too close to Leshy's temple to their liking, being quick to inform their leader of your intrusion.
You ended up facing him, and his first accusation was that you were stealing for Lamb's cult.
Imagine his confusion when you respond with "who?"
He thinks you're playing dumb, though you sound dead serious when you claimed not to know who they were....nor did you know who he was.
"I am Bishop Leshy of Darkwood! Bearer of the chaotic Green Crown! Everyone in the Old Faith knows my name!" He boasts, thinking this will somehow jog your memory.
But the truth is that where you're from, the Old Faith's gospel didn't really latch onto your society. So you knew nothing of the bishops, nor their war with the Lamb's cult.
Your only interest is the price Leshy paid for that Green Crown.
Despite feeling insulted, he decides to let you go since you aren't allied with Lamb (plus as the youngest bishop he didn't rly know what to do with an outsider like yourself).
He only demands that you never returned, lest you be strung up in the trees or buried six feet under.
You just took some souvenirs in the form of gold nuggets and pretty little worm skulls for the journey home.
Kallamar
The worm's more paranoid brother, on the other hand, had his fair share of outsiders trying to weave their way into the cult...
Only to snatch up glowing crystal clusters and raid shipwrecks for treasures.
Midas was one such thief until he was banished for redistributing the treasures and acting like a "god of fortune" to clueless followers.
Anchordeep has a law forbidding followers from selling crystals for profit and trespassing onto shipwrecked areas.
In his realm, the punishment fits the crime as it consists of the accused's hands being infected with some disease--ranging from severe itching to boils....or even necrosis.
You're totally unaware of this law (not that you'd care about the law to begin with) and go about your thievery business like usual.
Somehow you avoided alerting Kallamar--even tricking him into falsely accusing others of stealing crystals--but he eventually found out and had you brought to his palace for interrogation.
Even though you tell him you've never heard of the Old Faith nor his laws, he's certain you're just making excuses.
"It's just common sense...you don't walk into someone's house and just take whatever you want!!" He snaps.
While he's generous not to punish you with necrosis or boils...your hands are left constantly itchy for several days, persisting even after you returned home emptyhanded. They ached and hurt all over.
You didn't realize you damn near scratched your own skin off until you noticed blood under your nails.
Heket
You'd think there wouldn't be much to steal in swampy, humid, smelly Anura. But you were quite wrong.
Back at home, your folks got shipments of menticide mushrooms (which are a delicacy as both a soup and, of course, hallucinogens).
They never got spores to grow their own supply, though, and lately Anura's trades have been lackluster.
So you decided to travel there and do some "charity work" with your master thief skills. Plus find a few keepsakes along the way.
Besides the mushrooms, nobody in your village knew much about this domain....nor were you aware of its arrogant amphibian ruler.
You were in cahoots with Sozo's followers, visiting their grotto and camping grounds, stealing heaps of shrooms for them in exchange for gold and tarot cards.
Ofc you'd pocket some of the spores for yourself.
Eventually your thievery was discovered after a Mushroomo accidentally sold you out to Heket while they were high, leading to her finding and interrogating you.
She blatantly accuses you of stealing for Lamb...but is taken aback when you admit to not knowing them, the bishops, or the Old Faith.
"Your folks have traded with Anurians for ages....yet you know not of our religion??"
"Some of the elders have, but none of your "doctrines" really stuck around for long."
Heket finds this revelation most puzzling, but in her confusion you flee her temple, and she barks at the guards to stop you.
Fortunately for you, no frog there could leap fast enough to keep up.
Shamura
Of all four rulers, this wise old spider had the greatest understanding that the Old Faith's gospel cannot touch every bit of land out there..
It's simply impossible for everyone in the world to know about it (let alone conform to its teachings) even if all their followers combined went on missionaries to spread the word.
That being said, they weren't completely alarmed when the bugs informed them that they caught an outsider--specifically a thief, aka you.
You were hoping to take some prized pieces of pottery and gold, but you got caught in a trap and busted big time.
Normally you're fearless, but being face-to-face with the Bishop of War while being webbed up in a silk cocoon (and seeing similar victims strung-up on the ceiling of the temple) had you scared shitless.
You were 100% convinced that Shamura was going to dissolve your guts into acid and feast on your corpse.
And yet...they spoke to you rather calmly, curious about your place of origin rather than angry over your thievery.
They ask you different things about your village, what religion it follows, how much it knows of the OF, etc.
Their followers kept reminding them that you're a criminal and should be prosecuted as such.
Eventually they do, but instead of death you're given a chance to earn your freedom by participating in a fighting pit.
Somehow you win and get to take all of the loser's money.
Lamb
First, they notice their offerings mysteriously vanishing from the shrines around the cult.
Then they realized all the gold bars made from their refineries were suddenly gone, the chests completely empty.
When they mentioned this during a sermon, half their followers are confused...while the other half began pointing fingers at each other and start arguing.
Lamb sees them accusing each other all the time of stealing, so he usually takes the accuser's word for it and puts the suspect in the pillory for a little while.
But things get messy as the problem continues and they're running out of materials to build pillories with.
They'd rather not be chastised by the One Who Waits for causing such discord in his cult, so they temporarily halt their crusades and investigate.
Eventually, Lamb discovers it's been you all along, but since you're a rat...for a moment they believed you were related to Ratau and Ratoo.
You don't know who tf they are..nor were you aware that you've been stealing from a cult.
Honestly, they're impressed that you managed to evade them for this long, but displeased with the fact your actions nearly tore apart their entire following.
Since you aren't affiliated with the Old Faith, they don't punish you harshly, yet want you to understand there's consequences.
Your sentence is community service for a day and apologizing to every follower.
It's humbling as hell, but you get through it and Lamb lets you take some treasures home.
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Sell old diamond jewelry
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headfulloflettuce · 3 months ago
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The Human Who Fooled All of Prythian
16. Open for Business
“Cosette! Are you even listening? Do you realize how irresponsible this decision was?”
Cosette stood patiently, waiting for Ophelia to finish the very much-deserved lecture. Theo and his father stood awkwardly behind Ophelia as she explained why Cosette shouldn’t have given away one thousand gold so easily. 
“Ophelia, I hear you.” Cosette spoke up, taking Ophelia’s short pause as an opportunity to resolve this conflict, “I agree with you, but we had been searching for a week with no luck. No place was willing to sell to us considering we want to open a perfumery.”
“Still…” Ophelia sighed, running a hand through her hair, “What if this business won’t take off? You spent a large sum of our money…”
“It will do well.” Cosette spoke confidently.
At the very least it had to be popular amongst the nobility and upper middle class.
“As for the money, if it had been any other building we would have had to pay twice as much, if not four times that amount; meaning, we would have had to take out a loan. All things considered we got really lucky with this find.”
I'll need to write up a detailed spending plan though. 1000 gold is a lot.
“Which is partially why I am concerned.” Ophelia calmed a bit, hearing Cosette’s reasoning, “Why would those people sell this building to you for so cheap?”
“Well, it’s not in the greatest condition.” The floorboards creaked as Cosette spoke, “And even though it’s near the center it’s not smack-dab in the middle of it.”
The two males tensed, sharing a look.
“Wait, you wish to open a perfumery?” Theo spoke up.
“Yep.” Cosette confirmed.
“See? I told you we should go.” the elder whispered to his son.
“Do you understand how challenging it is to sell perfume?” Theo asked, ignoring his father’s urgency.
“I recognize that, but there is a market for it. The available products aren’t good and I know I can deliver something of much higher quality.” Cosette spun around, taking in the building’s interior.
Despite its older and disheveled appearance, the building was quite nice inside, with various wooden trinkets lining the cabinets and shelves.
“What did you both primarily sell?” Cosette asked, gently examining a small dragon figurine.
“We are both trained craftsmen. We worked with wood to make various tools, furniture, and toys.” Theo explained, staring at the floor as Ophelia, who was still unhappy with the situation, glared at him. 
Located at the end of the room was a counter with two staircases on either side leading up to a mezzanine that wrapped around the second floor, full of disorganized tables.
Good news; no need to buy new furniture!
She was definitely trying to stay on the positive note of things considering the mezzanine looked really messy. Cosette walked deeper into the shop, taking mental note of what they would need to fix or reuse, Ophelia and the two men trailing after her. She carefully hopped behind the counter, entering the backroom area where there was a storage space and what looked like a room dedicated to construction work filled with pieces of wood, and carving materials. A sweet smell hung in the air.
“Do you guys cook here?” Cosette sniffed, trying to pinpoint the scent.
“Oh no, it’s just the soaps.” the elder answered quickly.
“Soaps?”
The older man showed her a cabinet under a small basin filled with various cleaning supplies, “We use these to clean whenever we finished work or polished our creations.”
Cosette nodded.
How did you even clean for it to still look this…unkempt? If I called this clean back in Autumn Court my head would have been put on a spike.
The group moved upstairs, stepping inside the main office.
Oh, it was pretty. Neglected, but pretty.
Large windows behind a desk illuminated the room and presented the view of the street below. Both sides of the office were lined by empty, dusty shelves.
“What was this room used for?”
“Oh, we just stored paperwork here.” Theo pipped in.
“Did you not use it as an office?”
“No, we didn’t need to.” the older man retorted.
‘Didn’t need to’? Ha.
Cosette didn’t push the subject, sensing the older man’s wounded pride.
If one doesn’t have a properly functioning center of management, nothing will get done. 
She eyed the scattered paperwork, running her finger along the oak desk, the three fae watching her quietly.
I wouldn’t be surprised if their lack of organization was part of the reason for their business’s downfall.
“Well then.” she smiled at the group, “We better get started.”
“Do we really have to clean the whole store?” Theo was borderline whining as he scrubbed the floor clean, dust and paint slowly coming away to reveal the beautiful cherry wood flooring beneath.
“Yes, we do.” Cosette wiped down the windows from the inside, while Ophelia cleaned them from the outside. The elder fae was tasked with unloading the paperwork from cabinets and drawers into boxes, since Theo insisted that he couldn’t do hard, physical labor, “Right now it looks like an abandoned haunted house. People don’t tend to want to shop in those.”
Theo sighed dramatically, scrubbing the floor harder. 
Cosette and Ophelia finished cleaning the windows, moving onto the shelves and cabinets.
“We’ll need to get a long stick to clean the top part of the porch.” Ophelia said, throwing away a dirty rag, disgusted by the collected grime.
“There is a broom in the back.” the elder said.
“That should work.” Ophelia disappeared into the back, returning with a broom, using it to clean the porch and ridges of the building.
“I am done.” the older fae put the last piece of paper into a box.
“Perfect, can you take them upstairs?” Cosette smiled.
“I’ve got it father.” Theo quickly grabbed the boxes instead, taking them upstairs.
The elder smiled fondly, watching his son go upstairs. Ophelia gave Cosette a small look, assigning the elder more paperwork to sort through and catalog away.
The man sighed, “Is this necessary? Can’t we just throw all this out?”
You want to throw away years worth of evidence of your hard work?
“Well, we can throw them out later. For now it’s best to gather them all into boxes for easy transport.” Cosette explained calmly.
Also, if I'm being completely honest, I want to see what went wrong with your business.
“Hmpf.” the elder nodded, reluctantly continuing his work.
“Alright, good work team.” Cosette smiled. The shop was no longer filled with dust, the tables and floors looking usable, “Tomorrow we’ll meet up here at 8 am to continue cleaning.”
“That early?!” Theo exclaimed.
Ophelia glared murder at the man.
Remind me to never whine in front of Ophelia.
“Yes, that early.”
Cosette was starting to see why these two were in so much debt.
“I want to be working on perfume production by the end of the week, so tomorrow we will clean out the back two rooms and continue to gather all your documents and supplies for record keeping.”
The two men nodded hesitantly, remaining at the shop, in the two rooms accessible through the mezzanine near the main office. Meanwhile, Cosette and Ophelia walked back to the inn in silence. Cosette hesitantly glanced at her friend.
“I am sorry.”
Ophelia looked at her.
“I should have asked you before buying the building. I just…” Cosette looked down at the ground, “We weren’t getting anywhere, and when the perfect opportunity presented itself I couldn’t let it go.”
Ophelia sighed, pulling Cosette into a side hug, “I get it. I am sorry for going off on you like that. It’s not even my money, you’re the one who…accumulated it”
Is that what we’re calling stealing now?
“That’s not fair.” Cosette shook her head. She wasn’t about to make Ophelia financially dependent on her in that way. It would be cruel.
“We survived this far together, I didn’t mean to undermine that.”
Ophelia laughed, “Oh…if more fae had your decency and kindness.” she looked down at her Cosette, “Are you going to try and help those two pay off their debt?”
“I am hoping that once we start selling perfumes I can pay them a salary which can cover that. You’re also going to get paid. Obviously.”
“Well gee I would hope so.” Ophelia laughed, bumping into Cosette playfully.
When they got back to the inn Blanche was serving the inn’s guests dinner. Ophelia dug into the food while Cosette slowly nibbled, staring at the parchment before her.
The main issue was money; they only had about four hundred and fifty silvers left.
I still needed to purchase the necessary equipment and glass vials for perfume production. We could save money on renovations by not using the building immediately and instead selling the perfumes outside in the fresh air. 
While they were exploring the city Cosette had recorded the most lucrative places to purchase glassware and materials for perfumes. A huge cost saving benefit came from the fact that perfumes in Winter Court traditionally were made to be so strong that all the materials sold for them were highly concentrated. Meaning, Cosette could save money by purchasing the necessary supplies and then diluting to achieve a more gentle version of the scent. 
I’ll begin with creating non-alcohol based perfumes as that permits me to reach a wider audience thus earning a larger profit.
Cosette frowned.
Despite all this, we’re barely fitting into the budget. Unless…I don’t eat breakfast and dinner. That way I could give the spending margin some wiggle room.
Cosette nodded approvingly, looking over her work.
“Don’t forget to eat.” Ophelia reminded her between mouthfuls of the soup.
“Right..”
Cosette savored the broth’s taste while she could.
Cosette had begun looking through the paperwork Theo and his father had filed while running their business, slowly discovering all the reasons why their business fell apart. First off, some of the first goods they had been trying to sell were considered luxury items that had high quality competition in the area with better marketing. Second, their turn out time for tools and toys was extremely low if she was to trust the listed dates on production records. Even if fae liked their products, there was too little being produced in too long a time frame.
A small knock pulled Cosette out of her thoughts.
“Yes?”
Theo opened the door to the office, giving her a small smile, “Ophelia brought lunch.” 
“Oh thank you.”
Theo walked over, putting a small sandwich down on the desk, turning to leave.
“Wait.”
He stopped, looking back at her, “Yes?” The man looked much better than his first day here. Not clean, but properly groomed hair and tucked-in clothes.
“I wanted to ask, how much debt do you still owe those men?” Cosette put her face into her hands, watching Theo closely.
“Ah…” Theo rubbed the back of his head nervously, “May I ask why you want to know?”
I need to know how high to price the perfumes and how much to pay you two so that you can pay off your debts at the end of this. That way I won’t feel as bad for stealing your home away…
“I want to help you. To do that I need to know how much money you owe.”
“Oh.” Theo stared at her with wide eyes, “It’s um…6000 gold.”
Okay damn.
“Do you have any money saved already?”
“Um…I haven’t told my father yet, because I wanted to surprise him, but I have saved up 2,500.”
Oh, not as bad.
“I can work with that.” Cosette jotted down the information.
“Aren’t you…going to ask why we owe so much?”
“Isn’t it because of your business?” Cosette looked at him.
“Yes…that’s what it started off with but it steadily got worse because of my father’s sickness.”
“He’s sick? What is he sick with?”
“The doctors haven’t been able to diagnose him, but the medicine the men provided him with helped.”
“Are they doctors?” Cosette raised her eyebrows.
They didn't look like they worked in the medical business.
“They’re not, but a healer who works for them said it was good for him.”
“I see. Is your father alright right now?”
Safe to assume he hasn't been getting his medication due to the situation.
“We have a small supply, so he will be alright for a while.”
Cosette nodded, “Oh by the way, what was the stuff the group took out of your building?”
“Uh…I am not sure actually. My father said that as part of the deal the men we borrowed money from would use a part of the backroom as storage space for their own business.”
“You don't know what you stored in your own home?” Cosette's voice was a bit harsher than she intended, but she was shocked by the lack of awareness this man was exhibiting, “Do you know what business they run?”
“From what I know, the central company they all work for does something related to shipping.” Theo paused, his voice turning insisting, “I trust my father. He can tell you the details.”
Something tells me your father won’t want to tell me those details.
Cosette smiled, “I'll ask him.”
Theo shifted awkwardly, looking like he wanted to say something.
“Yes?” Cosette looked at him
“I…wanted to say thank you.”
“Pardon?‘
“Thank you for helping us.”
Cosette laughed softly, “Thank me once we both get out of this situation.”
“No. I mean it.” Theo’s face turned serious, “We were about to be left without a home yet you saved me and my father. Now you're offering us a way to pay off our debt. It truly means the world to me.”
Cosette was taken aback. Considering this man's complaining over the past couple days, she had prepared herself to only hope for an amicable parting once this ordeal ended.
“Yeah, don't mention it.”
Just don't do anything that would jeopardize mine or Ophelia's life and we're Gucci.
Theo smiled, “Oh also, I cleared out some more of the equipment in the back and I found some glassware and bottles you mighty find useful.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it.”
Yay! Saving money!
Cosette turned back to the paperwork before her, stacking a few of the ledgers she looked over and moving them to the side. She looked through some of the papers listing off all owned materials. Since she wanted to start off selling perfumes outside she would need to set up a stand of sorts. Lucky for her there were plenty of tables in the catalog she could use.
It wasn’t anything fancy but it would do. 
Cosette put away the catalog with her list of renovation plans for the store once they could afford it. The first thing she would change was the flooring of the mezzanine, and the shelves there. Downstairs she wanted to reuse some of the older cabinets in the back for storage and replace them with updated versions. She also wanted to repaint most of the walls, or get some proper wallpaper as she had found peeling paint. Cosette really didn’t want to work in the 2.0 version of Miss Havisham’s house.
She paused suddenly.
What was this?
The ledger she picked up looked completely different from the other ones. Cosette flipped back to the previous one. 
Yep, definitely different. From the paper type to the handwriting.
She compared the two closely. On the surface level it didn’t seem like there was much of a difference, but certain terms kept getting repeated in the new ledger that weren’t present in the other one.
Rosewood, lilac and soaps.
Attached to every other strange ledger was a small list describing the number of shipments to be received.
‘Make room for five boxes of soaps.’
‘Shipment of seven boxes coming this Tuesday.’
‘Store three containers on the left side of the room.’
Cosette had decided to keep the majority of the ledgers she looked through filed within the office and pocket the stack of papers that stuck out the most. 
Just in case they ever came in handy.
“What do you mean no dinner?” Ophelia put her arms on her hips, staring down Cosette.
“I want to make sure we have enough money to start producing perfumes. In order to do that I am skipping breakfast and dinner.”
“Cosette, if anyone should be skipping meals here it’s me. As a fae my body can heal and recover much faster than yours.”
“Ophelia I can’t ask that of you.”
Not after you were denied proper food for so long, or when I threw us head first into this situation.
Ophelia groaned from frustration, stomping downstairs. Cosette continued working on the documents before her, humming gently as she looked over their progress that week. Everything was set up to begin perfume produ-
“Cosette!” Blanche burst into the room.
Uh-oh.
“Yes miss Blanche?” Cosette looked at her bewildered.
“Why is Ophelia telling me that you’re not coming down for dinner?”
“Because we need to save money?”
Blanche huffed, storming away. Ophelia looked sheepish.
“Did you snitch on me?”
“No!” Ophelia waved her hands, a small smile on her lips, “I just told her the truth!”
Cosette sighed.
Blanche quickly returned with an overflowing plate, and an empty one.
“Miss Blanche, really this isn’t necessary.” Cosette protested.
I don’t want to owe you!
“Nonsense.” Blanche placed the plate before Cosette, motioning Ophelia over, “I am giving you one plate of food as requested.”
Cosette looked at the plate. It was obvious the serving size was for two people.
“Miss Bla-”
“And stop it with the ‘miss’ title, just call me Blanche.” The woman looked frustrated.
“Thank you Blanche.” Ophelia dug into the food.
Cosette looked at the food, her stomach growling.
“Eat dear.” Blanche gave Cosette a look similar to the one she gave Fermin when he refused to eat his breakfast.
“Okay.” Cosette reluctantly ate.
I don’t want to owe you…
Cosette glanced back as Blanche left the room, returning to her duties.
Why sacrifice food for us when prices were only rising?
Reading the question on Cosette’s expression Ophelia smiled, “Perhaps she’s just a good person, like someone else I know.” she winked.
“What is that?”
“Glassware for extraction.”
“What’s that?”
“A pot for combining oils and solutions.”
“What’s that?”
“Tubes for diluting substances.”
Cosette had finished cleaning out the back area of the store, turning it into a miniature chemistry lab. The small shelves lining the tables no longer contained tools for carving, but instead beakers and vials.
Theo stared over her shoulder in wonder as she adjusted and examined the simple glasses and tubes. Cosette carefully set up a miniature pot to begin boiling, testing if the equipment worked.
“Do you use any magic to make the perfume?” the elder leaned over as well.
“No.”
“No?”
“No, there is no need.” Cosette replied, smiling slightly at the elder’s shocked expression. The pot’s water began boiling.
Good, everything was working well.
“I rely on alternative methods to produce perfumes.”
“Huh.” the older fae examined the equipment, “I am unsure if that will work well, Winter fae like high quality products. This just seems like a fast way to ruin ingredients.”
“I am not ruining the ingredients, I am extracting the most out of them.” Cosette clarified, concentrating on organizing the glass vials. She would need to be careful with these as she couldn’t afford to replace them at the moment.
Meaning I have only so many chances to get the scents just right.
Theo stared at the set up in wonder, “How many bottles of perfume can you make with this?”
“I’ll need to test the exact amount but I estimate around 20 small bottles per run.” Cosette adjusted a funnel and the improvised filtration paper, pouring some dirty water through it to test its effectiveness.
“We don’t need too many though for the first test run.”
Theo perked up, “You mentioned wanting to sell the perfumes outside since the store isn’t in working condition; have you thought of how you want to set the whole thing up?”
“Hmm, well I was thinking of just setting out a table with some nice cloth on it. Maybe design some signs for it too.” Cosette answered.
“I can build a stand if you want.”
“Sorry?”
“A stand.” he repeated, “Somewhere to store your items and goods to show off to the people outside.”
“You can build that?”
“Of course.” Theo smiled cockily, “I am a woodworker, I can build anything you ask me to!”
“Ha!” the elder man laughed, “Don't even think about bothering with it son. A table is more than enough.”
I am willing to bet money you are responsible for the below product output of your previous business.
Theo deflated slightly, clearly having been excited about the project.
“But I want to. Cosette has been working hard to prepare, it would be good to do something besides cleaning the shop.”
“She hasn’t even begun making the perfumes! It’s all a waste until she has an actual finished product.” the elder stomped out of the back area, muttering under his breath, “Seriously, younglings, always ignoring their elders’ advice.”
Cosette watched the fae leave with narrowed eyes, turning back to Theo.
“If you’re willing to build a stand, I would greatly appreciate it.”
Theo dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand, “You heard what my father said, it won’t make much of a difference.”
“Presentation does matter.” Cosette corrected.
Sometimes it was a matter between life and death.
“The fact that you thought of it is a sign you understand good business practices.”
“Thanks, I am sorry about him. He’s always been a little bit skeptical of change. He really cares about the business we had before and it’s hard for him to let go.”
“Why are you apologizing?” Cosette smiled, “You haven’t done anything.”
Theo stared at her, blushing slightly, “I’ll um, get started on designing the stand.”
“I look forward to seeing what you create.”
“Cosette…get in bed.” Ophelia murmured sleepily, turning off the lights.
“I will in a bit.” Cosette poured over paperwork filled with chemical equations and formulas.
I haven’t done synthetic organic chemistry in a while.
Cosette scrunched her nose, drawing out the necessary chemical reactions she would need to recreate to produce the selected scents. She had settled on cinnamon and vanilla as her launching points. She was having to simplify certain parts, simply because she didn’t have access to technology of Earth, but it would still produce the required effect.
Her other concern was her own scent. 
How was I supposed to make a scent that acted as a void? One that could mask my humanity?
Cosette stared at the papers before her, words and letters beginning to warp together. She flinched, feeling two hands gently wrap around her in a hug. The arms stopped, pulling back.
“Sorry.” Ophelia said softly, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s alright, you didn’t do anything.”
You weren’t the one to hurt me.
Cosette let Ophelia lead her over to the bed, snuggling close as Ophelia blew out the last candle.
Cosette lay there, engulfed by the darkness. She didn’t feel happy, but she didn’t feel sad either.
Yeah…this is okay.
“This is boring.”
“It’s necessary.”
Oh my Lord, like father, like son.
Cosette took a deep breath to remain calm. She had tried to be understanding of Theo’s initial reactions to repetitive work, but the fact that a grown-ass man couldn’t put together that sometimes success requires doing something less ‘fun’ was crazy.
No wonder Theo was the way he was, his father is no better.
She glanced at Theo who was working on unpacking glassware with no complaints.
“What should I do once I get these put away?” 
He even looked different. Gone was the unhappy expression, replaced with a small burning passion. Theo had shown Cosette his designs for the stand he wanted to build which she quickly approved. The display looked inviting and well structured to contain many bottles of perfumes.
She had to insist Theo keep the designs as they were after his father tried to critique and correct them.
“Can you bring over the bottles on the right?” Cosette examined the boiling cinnamon sticks and powder, taking the pot off at the appropriate time.
The elder sighed heavily, continuing to write out labels. Theo quickly did what she asked, rushing over to the older man.
“Here father, I can take care of this. You go take a break.”
“Oh, thank you, boy.” the elder smiled, quickly leaving the room.
Cosette narrowed her eyes. She had always been taught to respect her elders. To treat those who are weaker with kindness and compassion. However, as far she could see…this man did not deserve the same treatment.
What kind of parent shoves work onto their child? What kind of man actively puts down their son’s good ideas?
Suddenly the elder coughed, stumbling slightly.
“Father?” Theo practically flew over to his parent’s side.
“I am alright boy.”
“You haven’t forgotten to take your medicine, right?”
“I’ll go do that now.”
Cosette shook her head. How could she think that way about a sick person?
He was trying his best.
Cosette forced her judgmental thoughts under.
It was wrong of me to think that.
Yes still, Cosette shivered. She couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was off.
“Cosette, are you ready to go?” Ophelia entered the back room, pulling on her cloak.
“Almost.”
Ophelia smiled fondly, joining Cosette on another stool, “What are you working on?”
“I am finishing up the first perfume samples.”
“Wait, seriously?”
Ophelia leaned in, watching curiously as Cosette mixed solutions together, pouring the two finalized liquids into two separate vials.
“They look gorgeous.”
“Thank you. Which one do you want to try first?”
Ophelia shyly pointed to the yellow toned perfume.
“Vanilla it is.” Cosette handed her the vial, letting Ophelia apply it to herself.
Ophelia carefully spritzed the air, taking a careful sniff.
“Oh wow!”
That was a good reaction.
“If I found this in the store I would totally buy it!” Ophelia fangirled.
“I do think I made it a bit too sweet, so I am going to try diluting or countering it by adding musk or citrus oils to it.”
Ophelia nodded in approval, “Can I try the newer versions once you make them?”
“Absolutely, who else would I trust to test the products?”
Cosette began cleaning up her equipment, washing the vials carefully. Ophelia assisted by drying them off, eager to get home.
“What do I smell like?”
“Eh?” Ophelia was taken aback by the question.
“What do I smell like?”
“Like that atrocious perfume you bought from that damned street.”
“No, I mean after I bathe in the evenings. What is my human scent like?”
“Oh, you smell like magnolias. It’s quite wonderful, perhaps even my favorite smell.” Ophelia winked, setting aside the cleaned vials and glasses into their appropriate shelves.
“I appreciate the compliment, but how do you know it’s human?”
“There’s this…subtle undertone of mortality to it?”
“Uh-huh, okay.”
Not the most helpful but it’s a start. What does mortality even smell like?
“Why do you ask?”
“I am making a perfume that can cover my human smell. I don’t want to keep smelling like spoiled fruits and rotting flowers.”
Granted, that was better than smelling like mud.
“You know Cosette, you never cease to amaze me.” Ophelia murmured softly.
“I haven’t even done anything impressive yet.”
Ophelia leaned against her, “‘Yet’? Now I am scared for the fate of Prythian.”
Cosette laughed, “No need to fear. I don’t plan on doing anything too bad.”
“Hm, yeah. You’re too good to do any real damage.”
“Oi!”
The two quickly left the shop, saying their goodbyes to Theo.
Outside darkness had already fallen yet the city was still brimming with life. Cosette took a deep breath, letting her senses overflow with the various smells of foods and spices.
Cosette paused.
What if…instead of masking or nullifying a scent, she could attempt to compliment it? Create a perfume that when added to her existing scent created something new - something that didn’t smell human?
“Ophelia, Blanche, I have a request.” Cosette smiled, holding two small bottles. After spending the whole week perfecting the scents, she was finally satisfied with the end result.
“What is it dear?” Blanche looked up from her food, Forrest trying to force broccoli down Fermin’s throat while Ophelia sipped her tea.
“I want you two to wear these perfumes for the next week.”
Blanche’s expression fell, turning hesitant, “Perfume dear?”
“Ooo, is this the final product?” Ophelia leaned over, looking at the two vials.
“Yeah. Take your pick Ophelia; cinnamon or vanilla?”
“I want the vanilla one! ” Ophelia took the vial, aiming it to spritz on her hand.
“Wait! Spray it outsi-” Blanche and Forrest both moved in a slight panic to stop Ophelia as a gentle scent of cinnamon and nature filled the air.
“Oh.” Blanche said simply.
“I adore this one.” Ophelia smiled.
“Blanche?” Cosette smiled at the woman shyly, “Would you be willing?”
Blanche tentatively took the small bottle, spritzing her wrist once, her eyes widening as a soft cinnamon smell filled the room.
“Oh.” she repeated.
“It’s good right?” Ophelia beamed, excited, returning to her food.
“I want you two to wear it over the course of this week, and if people ask where you got the scent from, tell them it’s from our store.”
“You got it girl!” Ophelia gave Cosette a thumbs up, “I’ll visit all the most popular places!”
“I’ll make sure to let them know.” Blanche agreed, moving closer to her husband to let him smell the perfume.
Forrest nodded in approval, “It’s a delicate smell.”
“Thank you.” Cosette blushed slightly.
The group quickly finished their dinner, dispersing to their rooms.
“Alright Ophelia.” Cosette took a deep breath, “Let me know if you can still smell the mortality on me.”
Cosette had gone out on a limb here - Ophelia said she smelled of magnolias with a hint of ‘mortality’, what if she created a perfume that smelled of eternity?
It was a lot of effort to find dahlias, but she managed to find a couple for a reasonable price. 
Reasonable as in I stole them.
A part of Cosette hated how easily she relied on such skills to survive. The other part of her understood that it was necessary.
It’s okay, I’ll return and pay the person back once I can.
Cosette sprayed some of the perfume on herself.
Ophelia shook her head, “No Cosette…I can still smell your humanity.”
“Hm.”
Should have guessed it wouldn’t be that easy.
“Perfumery street ‘perfumes’ it is for now then.”
“I truly feel terrible for Blanche.” Ophelia smiled.
“Me too. I haven’t scared off all the customers yet have I?”
“Miraculously no.”
“Cosette stop fussing, the stand looks perfect.” Ophelia chidded.
Cosette looked up at her friend, “I am just double checking everything is in order.”
“You already triple-checked everything. Just breathe for me, okay?”
The fateful opening day had arrived after four weeks of grueling, nonstop work. 
Cosette nodded, taking a deep breath of the crisp air. She had been standing outside for only a minute and already felt like she was about to freeze.
The stand Theo built was perfect, its structure reminiscent of a vanity. Its shelves and sides had vines and snowflakes carved into it, with the shelves and holders being modeled exactly for the perfume bottles they were using.
I’ll need to thank him again for his work later.
Faes had begun walking down the street in the early morning, most trying to get to work, others going to get breakfast. Quite a few faes crossed the street, avoiding their little stand.
Hmm, this wasn’t going well. These people were too scared to even try the perfumes in fear of being bombed by a stench.
Cosette picked up a sample bottle of the vanilla scent, spritzing the air a couple times.
Let’s try to convince them we weren’t biohazard waste disguised as a business. 
One fae female paused, turning back to look at their stand, tilting her head as she smelled the air.
Cosette maintained a calm aura as the woman approached, curiosity etched into her features.
“Excuse me, are these perfumes?”
“Yes miss.” Cosette smiled, her joy bubbling to the surface slightly, “We have two new scents, would you like to try them?”
“What’s the scent in the air?”
“Ah, that’s our cinnamon perfume.”
She nodded hesitantly, picking up the bottle, looking at it closely, “Did you make these?”
Cosette nodded, “I did miss.”
The fae looked impressed, examining the vanilla bottle too.
“This would make a good gift for the Winter Solstice.” The woman looked at the bottles thoughtfully, “How much is it?”
“5 gold pieces.”
“Hmm, affordable compared to the prices in those stores.” the fae nodded to herself, “I’ll take the cinnamon one.”
A couple other faes approached the stand, drawn in by the sweet gentle smell. Others arrived due to Ophelia’s and Blanche’s marketing efforts.
It was by midday that the stand became full of customers. Cosette was for once thankful for the Winter faes’ colder, calmer demeanors as they formed actual lines, rather than all crowding around her and Ophelia all at once.
“What is this?” a male shoved his way through the line.
“Hello sir, can we help you?” Ophelia quickly moved to put herself between the fae and Cosette.
“Like hell you can, what do you think you’re doing? Stealing business away from us good folk?”
“Stealing?” Ophelia laughed, “All we’re doing is selling perfume.”
“You have no right!” the man practically spat, an unpleasant odor, a clear marker of the perfumery street, made everyone around him pinch their noses in displeasure.
“All we did was set up a stand in front of a building we own, we very much have the right to do that.” Cosette spoke up, looking at the man.
The fae laughed, waving his arms as if that was going to strengthen his argument, “Oh so you think you’re all that huh? Coming in with this new perfume or whatever? Trying to steal business away from the professionals?”
The faes around them glanced at each other, their concern growing.
“If you truly were a professional these people wouldn’t be shopping here.” Cosette pointed out.
That was the man's breaking point as he charged at Ophelia, Cosette pulling her to the side as the man ran into the stand, knocking it over, and smashing the perfume bottles. The faes around them cried out, quickly rushing away from the violence, some running to call for the royal guard.
Cosette tried to take a step forward, rage filling her veins, but Ophelia pulled her back.
“Don’t stop him.” she whispered.
“What do you mean ‘don’t stop him’ he’s going to destroy all our hard work!”
“And destroy you in the process.” Ophelia looked at her with a serious expression, “You don’t stand a chance in a physical brawl against him.”
Cosette hated to admit it, but Ophelia was right. So, she swallowed her pride, watching her hard work get broken into smithereens.
The fae eventually stopped, looking at the two women gleefully, “Now what are you gonna do huh? Got no more perfumes left to sell, haha! ”
Good thing I didn’t bring out all the perfumes, though it was a shame to lose that many bottles.
“What got nothing to say?” the man taunted.
The two of them remained silent as he strutted away, making both women, and bystanders cringe.
Theo, having heard the commotion, rushed out of the store. 
“By the Cauldron, what happened?!”
Ophelia carefully approached the shards, picking them and placing them into a pile on the snowy pavement. 
“A perfumer from that stupid street showed up, angry that we were stealing his sales.”
“That bastard.” Theo muttered, pushing the stand into an upright position, assessing the damage.
Cosette kneeled down, helping Ophelia collect pieces of glass and broken off chunks of the stand.
A couple faes approached the group.
“Is anyone hurt?” the woman to make the first purchase asked, her tone worried.
“No, everyone is okay. Except for the stand.” Cosette joked lightly.
“That’s good to hear.” another fae spoke, “We notified the authorities what that man did. Absolutely unacceptable behavior.”
The winter faes around them nodded in agreement - violence of such sort was not to be tolerated.
“Thank you for your assistance.” Cosette smiled.
Really, I should be thanking him. This man has just given us free, good marketing, and the evidence I needed to confirm that we were a worthy competitor. 
Next: Chapter 17 - All Things Magic and Mystic
Back: Chapter 15 - A Sweet Stench
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antialiasis · 2 days ago
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The Good, the Bad and the Ugly: all of my thoughts (part 2)
Once again, this is me watching my way through The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966) and commenting on everything that comes to mind as I go. Where we last left off in part 1, Blondie and Tuco had just each learned half of the secret to a the location of a cache of Confederate gold, forcing two men in a thoroughly adversarial relationship to collaborate. This time, we get to see the two of them begin to bond, in the most delightful, complicated, bonkers sort of way.
The checkpoint
Another Extended Cut scene. Sad Hill Media's blog post on the Extended Cut scenes suggests the only conceivable purpose of this scene is to establish Tuco wants to go to the San Antonio monastery and that it's entirely needless because we can just figure he knew it was nearby. I do think there's a little more to it than that: this checkpoint is presumably why Tuco and Blondie actually dress up in Confederate uniforms, which is otherwise a pretty random thing for them to do (and is an important plot point a couple scenes later); it's where Tuco presumably gets the idea of actually pretending to be Bill Carson (without this scene, he's just using Carson's eyepatch randomly when they get to the monastery for unclear reasons); and more specifically it establishes that Tuco knew the monastery existed but was kind of surprised to learn they were in the vicinity of it, which adds some context to why Tuco hasn't visited his brother before in those nine years -- he hasn't been in the area before, just vaguely knew of it being near Apache Canyon. But it is undeniably a very functional sort of scene with not a lot else going on, other than Tuco's amusing assertion that "If I were a Yankee you wouldn't have time to ask me that!" to a whole encampment of Confederate soldiers, as if he'd have just taken them all out single-handedly.
Speaking of dressing up in Confederate uniforms, either Blondie was conscious enough at some point to change into the uniform or Tuco dressed his unconscious self in it to sell that he's a dying soldier to these guys. I suspect the latter.
The monastery
Tuco asks for his brother right at the start, but unknown to Tuco he's already gone to visit their dying father. Big, painful dramatic irony there on a rewatch.
Once again, we have wounded soldiers, many with lost limbs, filling up the monastery -- and once again it is a mere backdrop to our protagonists.
Tuco of course acts like Blondie is a very dear friend, like a brother to him, specifically when the monks are within earshot and then immediately drops it when they aren't. What a guy.
(He asks frantically if Blondie has said anything -- mainly thinking of if he said anything about the name on the grave, of course, but also, Blondie could theoretically tell them any number of things about Tuco that might get him kicked out of there.)
Meanwhile, even though nobody's looking (he checks!), Tuco gets down on his knees to pray. Totally sincere in his religion, praying that God will let this man live so Tuco can have his $200,000. I love this fascinating plot-irrelevant character trait.
Once the priest has told him Blondie will recover, he's thinking for a bit about next steps before he goes into the room. Everything would be easiest if he could just get Blondie to tell him what the name on the grave was, and then he can just kill him, or at least ditch him -- he's not too keen on actually having to haul Blondie around to find the treasure, after all.
Tuco starts off by telling Blondie, "The old father tells me you'll be up and around in a few days!" and then this hilarious thing of "You were very lucky to have me so close when it happened!" Ah, yes, when "it happened", this mysterious thing that caused Blondie to nearly die in the desert, how lucky that Tuco just happened to be there. Clearly this is going to work on Blondie himself. (Maybe Tuco could be banking on the possibility Blondie might not have a clear memory of the whole thing, but honestly it's perfectly in character to do this nonsense either way, because Tuco is Tuco.)
He goes on with this approach about how they're all alone in the world and have only got each other, suggesting he doesn't have any family. This is of course a blatant lie, as we'll learn in a bit -- Tuco believes he still has both parents and a brother, even if he hasn't seen them in a long time -- but right now it seems convenient to pretend he has absolutely nothing and no one, in case it will help him earn Blondie's sympathy and trust, so all alone in the world it is.
But then he changes tack again! Come to think of it, maybe it'd be easier to convince him to tell if he thought he was dying. So nah, now he's sad, devastated, that Blondie's dying and it's all his fault. :'((( (He looks around first to make sure none of the monks are around to contradict this, but he already contradicted it when he himself told Blondie just earlier that he'd be up and around in a few days. Tuco just does not keep track of his lies, at all.)
Love the shot where he's looking through his fingers, trying to gauge if this is working at all, and then turns it into wiping the definitely real tears from his eyes. He's trying so hard.
In Blondie's place, he would tell about the gold! (He would not tell about the gold.)
If he gets his hands on the $200,000, he'll always honor Blondie's memory! (He will not.)
Oh, Tuco, totally buying it when Blondie beckons him closer only to get coffee in his face because of course. The combination of absolute unrepentant lying and swindling and naïveté is so endearing, in a terrible way.
Blondie is so smug about "I'll sleep better knowing my good friend is by my side to protect me" while Tuco is pointing a gun at him (upside-down) and it's great. Tuco having him at gunpoint is simply not a threat anymore, because Tuco now wants him to live more than anything! He will protect him! Just in his best interests that Blondie survives!
(And the funny thing is Blondie can probably entirely legitimately sleep a little better with someone else actively invested in his survival than he normally does as a lone wolf drifter, even though the guy actively invested in his survival now also happens to hate his guts. We see him later being a very light sleeper who keeps his hand on his gun, suggesting he's kind of used to expecting someone might attempt to kill him in his sleep; Tuco would never let anyone kill him in his sleep, not while he's the only one who knows the name on the grave.)
Notably, Blondie isn't angry in this scene, as much as he has every right to be when Tuco's being an absolutely shameless little shit about trying to manipulate him, after a lengthy bout of straight-up torture. Instead, Blondie seems more amused by his utter ridiculousness, now that Tuco is harmless and in fact warpedly helpful to him. He's enjoying every minute of the reversal of fortunes here, and in the process Tuco's Tuco-ness has just become kind of entertaining. This is an important little development for how their relationship evolves from here.
After the non-obvious timeskip, Tuco's fetching water for Blondie, grumbling all the while about if I get that name from you I'll give you water, and calls him a dirty skunk, kicking his foot -- notably, not keeping up the pretense of being his friend even a little bit unless the monks are around anymore. Presumably, in the time we skipped over, they've had some talks about how they'll proceed -- Blondie naturally not even considering telling Tuco the name but agreeing to accompany him so they can find the treasure together, Tuco reluctantly figuring yeah, fine, they'll do that, but he doesn't have to be happy about it. He feels free to be an ass to Blondie, even though he can't lose him, because Blondie also needs him to get the money, and at least to Tuco it's unthinkable he would just skip out on $200,000, so it probably has not crossed his mind at all that Blondie could just decide once again to ditch him if he got fed up with him.
Most of the analyses I've read on this movie emphasize that all three main characters are motivated by greed in their pursuit of the gold. But Blondie has never actually felt all that invested in the gold per se to me. Throughout the movie he's mostly being pulled along on this treasure quest by either Tuco or Angel Eyes; I don't think he ever even mentions the gold in any context that's not about how it's something the others desire, and he doesn't take much of any active action to facilitate finding it, other than being along for the ride as the quiet inevitable kingmaker. Instead, whenever it's actually Blondie's choices driving what's happening (which isn't too often, mind; he spends a lot of time quietly going along with the others and biding his time), his motivations are distinctly about something else, as far as I can tell. My overall read on him is that his chief priority is his own survival, and while the treasure hunt has his interest piqued it's almost more for the interesting puzzle of how he's going to come out on top at the end of this than out of desire for the money, though the money certainly doesn't hurt. I think I read something somewhere about the never-produced sequel proposal involving Blondie having given his share of the gold to the monastery, and honestly, I don't know if that's true or if I'm remembering right what I read, but that checks out to me.
At any rate, what I'm saying is I think Blondie is not so invested in the gold that he has to stick with Tuco for it, the way Tuco has to stick with Blondie; Blondie has all the leverage and is enjoying it, and he almost certainly did give some thought to whether he should just try to get out of there if he gets the chance. But ditching Tuco would inevitably mean Tuco just comes to track him back down again, even more fiercely, after already finding him once -- and Blondie is almost certainly already sketching out a plan for when they've reached the cemetery. Tuco is probably planning to try to kill him as soon as he shows him the grave, after all, and Blondie is going to have to make sure he's fully in control of the situation before he reveals anything. And then he's going to make Tuco put his head in a noose.
Tuco mentions the wounded are just pouring into the monastery so they'd better get the hell out of here -- that war sure is still intensifying in the background, and the main characters still want no part of it!
Blondie silently hands Tuco his still-lit cigar here just as Tuco's been insulting him; Tuco just drops it on the floor and steps on it, not keen on sharing. Again, we see how Blondie, when he has this leverage, is completely unruffled by Tuco's toothless hostility, and in fact is just having fun being friendly in an ironic sort of way in return, knowing this annoys Tuco. This is a very fun little contrast to a little later, when Blondie gives him a cigar with a more genuine sense of sympathy, and Tuco actually accepts it. I didn't actually even notice this bit for the longest time, but yes, good.
When Tuco learns Pablo is back, he just tells Blondie that This is something I have to look into, not wanting to tell him anything about his family -- though of course, it wouldn't be hard to guess that "Father Ramirez" is related to Tuco Ramirez. And while Blondie probably does muse on how he could just go out and grab the wagon that's already ready to go (though he would probably ultimately dismiss that either way as discussed above), he must be curious -- and also realize that understanding more about how Tuco ticks might be useful later.
This whole sequence is quite funny, showing off a lot of Tuco being Tuco, while we get a good look at the fundamentally changed dynamic between Tuco and Blondie now that Tuco needs Blondie alive. So far, it looks like Blondie having great fun rubbing in the leverage that he has, completely and unshakably confident that Tuco won't touch him now, while once Tuco understands he's not about to convince Blondie to give up the name, he's nakedly hostile -- but Blondie just finds his hostility amusing now that it doesn't actually represent a threat. We don't spend a whole lot of time on this stage of the dynamic, but it's still pretty important that this is where it has resolved to at this point.
Tuco and Pablo
Tuco is initially obviously wary and nervous about approaching Pablo but then puts on a cheerful smile before he says anything. He probably knows Pablo might not be super happy to see him, but he's going to live in his best world and doggedly pretend this is a normal cheerful family reunion.
Initially the smile falters when Pablo turns around without acknowledging him, but he forces it back up again. "Don't you recognize me? It's me, Tuco!" Surely it's just because he didn't recognize him with the eyepatch, right?
He goes in for a hug. Pablo folds his arms. Tuco decides this is totally just because maybe that's not appropriate with a monk - "I don't know the right thing!" he says before getting down on his knees and kissing the knot of his rope instead. It is Definitely Not that Pablo just does not want to hug him, nope.
Pablo's fed-up eyeroll on "I wonder if my brother remembers his brother" is very good. I can't believe these actors were each speaking a language the other didn't understand and just waiting for the other to pause to say their next line (Eli Wallach brings this up specifically as a really tough scene because of this). Talk about acting with a handicap. I take every hat off for how well they absolutely pulled it off -- this is honestly one of the best scenes in the movie.
"Did I do wrong?" he asks, like he's almost considering whether maybe Pablo thinks it was wrong of him to come here, but then nah, it doesn't matter! He's very happy!
"You have seen me, Tuco." Ouch. Implied, so goodbye. Tuco chooses not to take it that way!
All in all, Tuco's face for this whole thing is great, the genuine awkward reactions always dissolving into undaunted cheerful smiles as he keeps going, insistently trying to make this interaction normal. Eli Wallach is so good.
Pablo just stares him up and down after "I'm very glad I came!" "Oh, my uniform! It's a long story!" Yup, definitely just wondering about the uniform.
Tuco's trying so, so hard to bring back some long-lost brotherly dynamic that they used to have, sometime. "Let's talk about you, it's more important! You look well! A little thin, perhaps, but you were always thin, eh, Pablito?"
And then he asks about their parents. "Only now do you think of them." Pablo's so cold about it -- even though really Tuco hasn't mentioned them until now because he's been trying so hard to connect with Pablo! This is probably part of why Pablo's been so cold for this whole conversation; it's got to sting extra hard for him that Tuco's there playing up this cheerfulness when both their parents are now dead and he wasn't there.
Tuco is still trying hard to salvage this and be cheerful about it after Pablo tells him it's been nine years and it aches. Nine years! How time flies, ha-ha!
Instead Pablo tells him their mother's been dead for a long time, and also Tuco only just missed the death of his father, who had specifically asked for him. I'm pretty sure the implication is they've been at the monastery longer than the few days since his father's death, so theoretically he could probably have made it, if he'd known. Instead he's been here, grumbling about having to fetch things for Blondie. Oof.
Finally Tuco's resolve to be cheerful and normal about this is broken. I like how we don't really see him cry, just him turning away at the wall and the slight movement of his shoulder and tensing in his neck and the sound of his breathing. Any open display of emotion from Tuco would come across as pretty suspect, but it's precisely the fact he's hiding his reaction that drives home that it's 100% real.
When he finally turns away from the wall, it's to tell Pablo, voice cracking, that he didn't just have one wife, he had lots. He can find them wherever! He's doing great! (Normal people who are doing great definitely have lots of different wives they've run off from.)
He dares Pablo to preach him a sermon about it, but Pablo doesn't take the bait. Tuco wants to hear him do his usual thing of judging and condemning him so he can throw it back in his face right now.
Instead, Pablo goes, "The Lord have mercy on your soul," and Tuco responds that while he's waiting for the Lord to remember him he'll tell him something. Another great little bit that's effective because we've seen him being sincerely religious in his own Tuco sort of way, but of course really this extremely down-on-his-luck bandit feels pretty forgotten by God, even if he's only properly voicing it when he's just learned both his parents died in his absence.
In response to being judged and disdained for his (genuinely bad) choices all the time, Tuco has built up this whole defensive self-image of how really he took the harder path and Pablo's just a coward, and I love that a lot.
Pablo left to become a priest, while ten-or-twelve-year-old Tuco was left alone with his parents; the way he emphasizes that he stayed suggests that he felt he was there for them where Pablo had simply abandoned them. And yet, "I tried, but it was no good." The banditry probably originated out of desperation as a way to earn money to support his parents, or at least support himself without burdening them. And yet he ended up alienated from all of them as a result (of course he did, he's a wanted criminal). Oof.
Kind of fun how these two brothers hitting each other in the heat of the moment are actually possibly the most convincing physical strikes in the movie.
We only see Blondie watching now; we don't know exactly how long he was watching or how much he saw, whether he heard Tuco's whole backstory. But he definitely saw them come to blows, which is the really important bit about him watching.
The way Tuco helps Pablo up and then immediately turns away before Pablo can say anything more or make eye contact is a really good, painful acting choice.
Pablo saying his name, and Tuco stopping for a moment, starting to turn around, and then tossing his hand behind him and leaving anyway is also a really good, painful choice. They almost got to have what might have been a more reconciliatory conversation (Pablo says, "Please forgive me, brother," after he's gone), but Tuco was just expecting more judgement and hostility and decided not to bother.
This scene is so good. Tuco was already the most colorful character in this movie, but there's a huge amount of depth added via this conversation with Pablo -- not just some token effort in the form of the fact his parents are dead and he's sad about it, or the explicit exposition about him growing up in poverty and becoming a bandit because the only ways out were banditry or the priesthood, but all the little nuances and implications and Eli Wallach's performance of it all. Tuco's insistent way of looking for alternative explanations for Pablo's coldness at the start; his dogged, desperate efforts to lighten the mood; the particular genuineness of his reaction to the news about his parents and the way he then deflects all those feelings into anger at Pablo and at God; the painful, painful way that they part. It's such excellent character work, and it makes Tuco really, properly sympathetic, where he's been serving a pretty villainous role so far.
Nothing like a good cigar
Tuco silently joins Blondie on the wagon, obviously in a pretty sour mood, and Blondie doesn't say anything either as they set off. I expect at this point Blondie is fully intending to just not comment on what he saw. (Tuco, of course, doesn't realize he saw anything at all.)
But after a moment, Tuco decides to live in his best world. His brother is so great! He was just having soup with him! He never wants Tuco to leave when he visits! Earlier he expressly didn't want to let Blondie know he was going to see his brother, but now he says casually that oh yeah, his brother's the one in charge there, like he just sort of happened not to mention it before. His brother's very important and also crazy about him, and the great thing about having him is he'll always be there for him to give him a bowl of soup if he needs it. This is definitely what actually happened and not a bald-faced lie-slash-fantasy in which Tuco's fine and loved and appreciated and has a robust support network. (This lie, of course, very directly contradicts Tuco's previous lie to Blondie about how he's all alone in this world. He's so consistently shameless about not being remotely consistent with his own lies.)
(And, notably, the way Tuco's treating Blondie has abruptly shifted, too, even though no one's watching -- he's just having a casual chat, smiling, lightly bumping his shoulder at "Bring your friend, too!" Tuco is feeling shunned and rejected and needs a friend right now, and Blondie's the one guy he's got, who has been acting basically friendly to him, not returning his hostility -- so Tuco's just choosing to at least for a moment live in the world where yeah, sure, they're the best of friends and always have been.)
We may not know exactly how much Blondie heard, but he knows at minimum that actually they were not having soup, that Tuco's brother slapped him, and that he punched him in return. So he knows exactly how bullshit all of this is. And yet, he actually has a little smile at it and chooses not to contradict him, but instead to actively play along with the lie by telling him, "Well, after a meal, there's nothing like a good cigar." (There was no meal, after all, and Blondie knows it; he could have offered him a cigar without actively playing along with that bit, but he specifically chooses to do so.) In spite of all Tuco has done, Blondie hears his pathetic bullshitting about his brother and it actually endears him to him, makes him human.
It's very possible he heard more of Tuco's backstory, too, and perhaps developed some sympathy for him based on that, the way we have -- but the particular reaction he's having right now, the smile and the cigar, is a reaction to Tuco telling him this. It's such a blatant, pointless, specific lie, delivered with such a bizarre change of attitude, and all by itself it says so much about Tuco: that he craves positive relationships he doesn't have, that he was hurt enough by this encounter he doesn't want to admit or sit with how it really went, that he uses lying as a coping mechanism, that he lies to himself too, that ultimately he loves his brother and would rather talk him up and lie that they're tight than just complain about him, that he really needs a friend right now and Blondie is all he's got so he's just discarding the hostility to do this. It's pretty sad, and it really is very endearing. Look at this miserable little man and his pathetic, absurd ways of coping.
And the reason this works is Blondie was already honestly a little endeared to Tuco, in a strange way. Tuco had stopped representing a threat, and his Tuco-ness had become entertaining -- initially because Blondie was just having fun rubbing it in and watching him flail in his unique way. But it's not that far from there to seeing his humanity, and this bit of more obviously desperate Tuco-ness will do it. Tuco still tortured him, and Blondie has not and cannot forget that -- but alongside it he's starting to get him, a little bit, and it makes him sympathize with him.
(Blondie doesn't look at him while offering the cigar, though. Not getting too sentimental about it.)
Tuco looks at him for a long moment after taking the cigar, perhaps realizing Blondie might have seen or heard something (even Tuco suspects it's not that he just genuinely bought all that and wants to give him his cigar because it's good after a meal; this looks suspiciously like a gesture of sympathy). But then he just puts it in his mouth, and shares another brief look with Blondie, and then we can see this great progression on his face as he actively psyches himself up into one of his normal grins (love Eli Wallach so much, what a great actor who makes this film), just as we shift from the somber Mission San Antonio music back to the upbeat main theme. Tuco is fine! Blondie is living in Tuco's best world where they're friends too! Everything is great!
This is another great, fascinating little character interaction. Tuco has a great need to create his own reality and act fine at all times (unless acting otherwise serves some other goal he has, of course), because actually his life kind of sucks, and lying and pretending, to himself and others, is just how he copes with everything. He didn't need to say anything to Blondie at all -- he didn't ask what Tuco was up to in there and wouldn't have asked -- but it just makes himself feel better about it to go rewrite reality into what he wants it to be and then affirm it by telling somebody else about it and acting like they're totally friends. And out of it comes this weirdly cute little bonding moment where Blondie's beginning to understand Tuco, and feel kind of sorry for him, despite everything. I love them.
The map
One more brief Italian/Extended Cut bit. Tuco's reading the map, looking at where they're going; Blondie asks about where they're headed, and Tuco catches himself and tells him he'll tell him when they get there. Dead soldiers are lying around; Blondie notes they're not worried about anything anymore and asks again about where they're going because they might get caught up in the war as they go on. Tuco, defensive, says they're going towards $200,000.
This mostly serves as the first ambiguous sign that Blondie has some sympathy for the dying soldiers, even though he's mentioning them briefly in the service of making a different point, while showing Tuco's still wary of telling Blondie anything that would render him unnecessary, afraid that then Blondie would just kill or ditch him and go for the gold himself. It's not a very important moment and the film wouldn't lose much without it, though I don't think I agree with the idea that Blondie's expressed sympathy for the soldiers here is too much for where we're at -- it's not exactly an outpouring of sentiment, just an observation about why the situation is dangerous that happens to involve him noticing the dead soldiers, and it certainly worked as a part of his character progression for me, though I also think it would work without it, with the prison camp being the first thing to spark his sympathy.
The one thing Blondie does do in the movie that sort of seems like he's invested in claiming the gold for himself is these intermittent moments where he asks Tuco about where they're going. But I'm not sure that's actually what's going on in these moments either. They're very casual and understated and, especially as the movie goes on, grow to feel more like he's trying to catch him out for his own amusement than any serious hope that it will work. And in the end, when Tuco does tell him the name of the cemetery, Blondie then does not in fact ditch or kill him to get the gold first, even though he easily could have. So all in all, it doesn't actually sound like he really hoped to learn the name of the cemetery so he could go find the gold himself without Tuco, even though Tuco obviously fears that.
So I think his stated reason for asking at this point is basically genuine. He's agreed to accompany Tuco, but they could be about to get themselves into danger, and it really might be less dangerous if they both know where they're headed. It's very understandable why Tuco won't, though -- Blondie's not telling Tuco anything for the same reason, after all -- so ultimately he can't insist too hard.
How do you do fellow Confederates
When Tuco spots troops he wakes up Blondie and is preparing to just take off his uniform immediately -- it's Blondie who asks if they're blue or gray (Tuco looks at his own uniform for a moment like he needs to double-check which arbitrary uniforms they have again before he looks off at the soldiers, enjoy that), and that's when Tuco figures well, okay, they're gray so I guess we don't need to. In other words, this is actually Blondie's fault, inadvertently; Tuco by default would have played it safe and gone with being civilians. (Though obviously Tuco's ridiculous over-the-top yelling did not help.)
"God's not on our side, 'cause he hates idiots also." Blondie is calling them collectively idiots. Blondie is a very smart guy but I enjoy how willing he is to include himself in that.
All in all, this silly scene is great because it's hilarious, but also just very fun about how utterly arbitrary the Civil War is to the main characters. It's just blue versus gray, yell out support for whichever color they're looking at while unclear on what the generals' names even are, whatever. Tuco obviously doesn't really know or care what the whole thing is about at all. Blondie is probably a little more familiar -- at least he knows what the generals are called -- but still only really invested in keeping himself out of it.
Of course, they sure do get caught up in it anyway. Off to prison camp!
Batterville
Time for the war to start to get a lot more prominent!
The wide shot of the camp as they're marched in shows gallows in the background, just where the framing draws the eye, with a man still hanging from a noose. We don't see any executions happening at the camp but we're sure incidentally shown that those also happen.
Love that moment of Wallace reading out "Bill Carson" and Angel Eyes turning around to reveal his face. We had no idea he'd be here, but the moment he shows up, it's what we've been waiting for all this time, and then he goes on to deliver by being magnificently striking in the whole camp sequence. Angel Eyes is somewhat underused in the movie overall, in terms of screentime and development, but half of the bits he does feature in just go so hard.
Kind of insane that he's a Union sergeant now; presumably he got promoted quickly for being amazingly competent, I guess (and I suppose once again it's very hard to actually get a grasp on the timespans involved).
Tuco, again, clearly has a bit of ambiguous history with Angel Eyes, compared to how Blondie and Angel Eyes are only really indicated to know of each other. I kind of enjoy that the movie doesn't get into exactly how any of these guys know each other at all and just leaves it up to implication and the viewer's imagination.
Tuco doesn't seem to have noticed and pointed out Angel Eyes until after he's turned around, so they probably have no reason to think Angel Eyes knows anything about Bill Carson. So when Blondie then suggests Tuco be Bill Carson, I think what he's thinking is that the guards are trying to identify who the prisoners are for purposes of arranging prisoner exchanges later, and that their best shot at getting out of here is to be identified as actual soldiers that might be exchanged -- obviously the Confederacy is hardly going to actually choose to exchange prisoners for people who were not actually soldiers. Bill Carson is the one name they know that's definitely not going to turn out to be somebody else present (and Tuco's already wearing his eyepatch while Blondie could never pass for him if there were any kind of physical description involved), so Tuco had better pretend to be him, and Blondie will cross his fingers for a different name coming up on the manifest later that no one else responds to that he can assume.
The other possibility for what's going on here, though, is that they do catch Angel Eyes reacting to Bill Carson specifically, and Blondie is gambling that Angel Eyes taking an interest could be a ticket out of here for both of them. That's a very interesting possibility, but I can't get it to make quite as much sense -- surely, if Blondie knows anything about Angel Eyes, he would probably know that being somebody Angel Eyes is looking for is probably a bad thing, and if he and Tuco know each other, then Angel Eyes presumably knows Tuco is not actually the Bill Carson he's looking for, so pretending to be Bill Carson doesn't seem like a super productive idea in that case. I can still see it being the intended reading, though -- notably, Blondie doesn't actually suggest Tuco be Bill Carson until after Tuco points out Angel Eyes even though Wallace had read out the name several times, which is the main evidence in favor of this, but that could also just be due to taking a moment to think and evaluate.
Either way, we cut briefly to Angel Eyes smirking at Wallace punching Tuco in the stomach for not saying "Present." Whatever sympathy he might have had for the soldiers back at the fort, it definitely does not extend to Tuco even a little bit. I think their ambiguous history might have something to do with that smirk.
On the other hand, he does then tell Wallace that that's enough when he's getting ready to beat on Tuco some more; probably he wants to save it for the actual interrogation. Angel Eyes enjoys violence but only really employs it in the service of his agenda, rather than pointlessly for the hell of it, as the plainly sadistic Wallace does.
Tuco sounding earnestly excited about Angel Eyes saying they should get "good treatment" is painful. Blondie is decidedly less excited about it, and when Tuco sees that his expression changes as well - enjoy him taking that cue from Blondie.
Angel Eyes justifies his treatment of the prisoners to the commandant first by saying there are too many prisoners and he needs to have respect and then by saying well, our men aren't treated well at Andersonville camp. I doubt either of these things actually has much to do with it; really he's probably torturing prisoners mostly because he wants info on Bill Carson and the treasure, and is obviously robbing them simply for monetary gain, but to his superiors he'll coolly rationalize all this with something that sounds less self-serving. I went down a bit of a Wikipedia rabbit hole about Civil War prison camps, and it sounds like "Confederate prison camps keep prisoners in terrible conditions, so we should be equally cruel" was genuinely an argument used to push for abusive treatment of PoWs in the North.
The poor gangrenous Union commandant is such a good, decent guy, bless him - "I don't give a God damn what they do in Andersonville." Most genuinely moral person in the movie, probably. Unfortunately, though, although he is nominally in a position of power, he's basically confined to his room, and all he can really do about the malicious takeover of the camp by Angel Eyes and his abusive cronies is giving him stern talks that he blithely ignores.
When he says the prisoners are not to be tortured or cheated or murdered, Angel Eyes just says, "That an accusation?" Obviously he's been doing all that, but he knows the commandant can't prove it. Technically he just takes prisoners into his cabin while the band plays some lovely music! Maybe the injuries they walk out with are because they just happened to have a fall.
"But as long as I'm the commandant I won't permit any such trickery. Am I clear?" "Yes, sir. Just as long as you're the commandant." A lot of people seem to interpret this as Angel Eyes planning to kill him, but the way I read it is that he's making an oblique reference to how the commandant is not really commanding anything at this point; Angel Eyes is already, for all intents and purposes, running things. He doesn't need to kill him. I think that aligns with the fact we then see Angel Eyes just wish him luck on proving his abuses (God, he's such a smug bastard), leave, and then tell his men to lay low for a few days - just don't give the commandant the chance to find the evidence he's hoping for, the gangrene will take him eventually anyway, and then probably Angel Eyes might get to officially take over after him, without all the potential complications of actually murdering him.
Angel Eyes marks his return to the story in style. Him being effectively in charge of the camp, and thus having absolute power over our now-imprisoned protagonists, while Tuco's blissfully impersonating the very man Angel Eyes has been after, is just such a delicious, exhilarating development.
Tuco's interrogation
Tuco's clearly nervous being brought in to Angel Eyes' cabin. Then Angel Eyes is being friendly, just offers him food -- so he excitedly sits down and brings a spoonful to his mouth, only to stop, suddenly worried that it's poisoned. So Angel Eyes spoons some off his plate and eats it himself, and Tuco smiles and laughs, going, "I knew it! I knew it!" We may never learn exactly in what capacity the two of them knew each other, but this progression tells a lot, delightfully: Tuco thinks Angel Eyes is somebody who might poison his food, but also goes "I knew it!" when he's shown he didn't, as if he'd never had any doubts. Odds are Tuco does have good reason to be distrustful of Angel Eyes, but once again he likes to live in his best world where people actually like him, so if Angel Eyes is acting friendly, and hasn't poisoned his food, then sure, Tuco will act as if they are the best of friends and he trusted him completely all along. Enjoy this being established implicitly via Tuco's reactions, without having to exposit anything.
The minute he saw him, he said to himself that Angel Eyes never forgets a friend! (He plainly did not say this to himself the minute he saw him.)
"It's good to see old friends again. Especially when they've come from so far away and have so much to talk about. And you do have a lot to talk about, haven't you?" I love the way Angel Eyes does these pre-interrogations, so surface-level friendly yet distinctly threatening. Tuco has a lot to talk about, doesn't he? If he talks enough, Angel Eyes might even not torture him. (But he'd probably still send him to be executed. No reason not to claim that $3000 bounty!)
Tuco smiles and chuckles about how hard it was crossing the desert, especially with nothing to drink. It sure was a hard time for somebody but it wasn't you, Tuco.
Tuco deflects the question about why he's using the name Bill Carson into simply a general rule of not using your own name, which is funny when Tuco is the one main character here who does explicitly go by his actual legal name and also routinely refers to himself in third person.
Enjoy Angel Eyes clapping his back just a bit too hard, as the tiniest taste of what is to come. At this point Tuco's definitely starting to have some creeping doubts about where this is going; we see his eyes flick to the side at it.
Tuco's eyes also shift distinctly back and forth after saying music's very good for the digestion. Definitely catching on that Angel Eyes is driving at something very different and trying to work out what, for all that he answers in a friendly and cheerful way. (Tuco started to question this a little bit when Angel Eyes asked why he's using the name Bill Carson, then a bit more so at the back-clap, then this.)
Once again, once Tuco starts actively refusing to answer Angel Eyes' questions, that's when he casually shifts into torture-mode, stands up to signal for the music to start, and then offers him tobacco only to clamp down on his fingers. The very smooth shift, without much of a real change in demeanor, is part of what makes Angel Eyes so striking as a villain. What a memorably fucked-up guy.
Tuco tries admirably to fight back against Wallace at the start, even with the disadvantage of being handcuffed to a chair the whole time. When Blondie was being tortured he was very calculated about quietly going along and taking it until he believed he had an opportunity; Tuco being tortured is so much messier, full of screaming and struggling, though as it goes on he becomes less able to fight back.
I love the buildup of this scene: the timing of the music swelling before Tuco's first scream; the way you gather the music is to drown out the noise, but the distraught looks of the musicians gain new meaning when the old man tells Blondie how so many of them have had a session in there; the violin player on the verge of tears suddenly cutting out and looking away and being snapped at to continue; all intercut with the movie's bloodiest scene. And, of course, the dissonance of the song they're singing itself, which sounds almost like a lullaby (only if you actually read the mostly-unintelligible lyrics, it's actually about war and all the pointless death involved: Loud roar the cannons till ruin remains / Blue grass and cotton burnt and forgotten / All hope seems gone, so soldier, march on to die; There in the distance a flag I can see / Scorched and in ribbons, but whose can it be? / How ends the story, whose is the glory? / Ask if we dare our comrades out there who sleep). This whole scene is so striking and so good; lots of movies have torture scenes, but the way the band is used makes this one so much more memorable.
(Blondie is silent as ever, but doesn't seem super comfortable there lined up on the other side of the walls staring over towards the cabins, gathering Tuco is probably being tortured in there, that other prisoners already have been, that he might be next.)
Angel Eyes smiling and leaning in as Wallace puts his thumbs on Tuco's eyes is such a touch of sadistic bastardry. (Interestingly, this footage is apparently not in the Italian version, and we instead cut back to Tuco there and actually watch him with Wallace's thumbs on his eyes screaming that he'll talk - it was reedited to be slightly less violent for the international market, and the Extended Cut kept the international theatrical version of this scene because the only available Italian prints had weird abrupt cuts in the music that presumably resulted from the original version of the scene there getting cut down post-music placement. I do always enjoy more torture, and it's a shame they felt the need to censor it, but I think this shot of how much Angel Eyes is enjoying this is actually very good and effective.)
The two instances of Angel Eyes torturing people for information (first Maria and now Tuco) both end with them giving truthful information, though in neither case is it obviously a violation of the character's deeply held principles or anything (we don't really know much about Maria or her relationship with Bill, but as much as Tuco wants the money, he has every legitimate reason to be more invested in keeping his eyeballs). On the other hand, in order to facilitate this, Angel Eyes kind of just magically knows exactly when they've told all they know and their "I don't know" has become genuine (we can see on his face that he can tell immediately that Tuco means it this time). In real life, torturers generally have no actual idea when their victims are lying even if they think they do, which is one of the several reasons torture is a terrible way to obtain information. But I suppose I will file this with other instances of Angel Eyes being implausibly competent to make him scarier.
Tuco keeps muttering Blondie's name in a bit of a choked-up way after giving him up, which gives the sense that he feels a bit guilty at this point for condemning Blondie to what he assumes is the same fate -- though he's not going to show it later, of course, filing it away where he probably locks all other times he might have felt kind of bad for a thing.
All in all, what a good, brutal, memorable torture scene, A+. The whump as whump is one thing and not necessarily my favorite whump ever or anything (many of the strikes here don't look super convincing, for instance), but as a scene it's just such effective filmmaking, and the particular bloody brutality of it compared to all the sanitized gunshots we've had is such a stark and evocative contrast.
The war is over for you
I love the cut to Blondie being shoved in there just after Tuco has given him up (though alas, he will not be tortured this time), and then the bundle of clothes getting thrown at him from offscreen. The old prisoner told Blondie what goes on in the shack, so as he was sent in there he was fully expecting to be about to get beaten bloody for several minutes. Instead he's… being told to put on some clothes? Huh.
Blondie is amused when Angel Eyes announces he knows the name of the cemetery now and Blondie knows the name of the grave. Here we go again! I think initially he assumes maybe Tuco had just freely told him after all, looped him in on the treasure in exchange for letting them go. After all, Angel Eyes does not seem inclined to torture him at all, they couldn't hear much of anything over the band, and it gets implied later that at some point Tuco told Blondie he and Angel Eyes were old friends, which Blondie obviously would not have put any stock in initially but might seem to check out now…
…But then, as he's taken his hat off, getting ready to just shrug and comply, he eyes the blood on the floor, verifies with his foot that it's still fresh. An uncomfortable confirmation that no, Tuco did not in fact just casually spill the beans.
He asks, "You're not gonna give me the same treatment?", because that seems genuinely odd. If Angel Eyes did get the cemetery out of Tuco by force, why isn't he trying to get the grave out of Blondie? But he's noticeably feeling a bit for Tuco and what he implicitly suffered here.
Angel Eyes notes that he figured Blondie wouldn't talk, not because he's tougher than Tuco but because he's smart enough to know that talking won't save him. Very true -- Blondie's calculated enough to figure once he gives up the information he's given up his only leverage, and by that point Angel Eyes would have zero reason to keep him alive anyway. Tuco, though, isn't quite as stupid as Angel Eyes thinks -- he does in fact end up both living and keeping his eyes, simply because talking when he did ultimately paid off by buying him time and opportunity to get free and kill Wallace later (though at the ostensible cost of giving up the money and probably getting Blondie tortured too, of course). Tuco couldn't have known that was likely to work out for him, but while he's there in agony and Wallace is threatening to put his eyes out, he'll take that chance, play it by ear and see what happens. That's not really how Blondie operates: he figures the information is the one thing what makes him valuable and if he wants to survive he needs to safeguard it at absolutely any cost. Angel Eyes understands that, and so he doesn't bother with trying to beat it out of him and just skips straight to the taking him along - once again, his violence is in the service of his agenda, so if it wouldn't accomplish anything, why try?
(Of course, Blondie being smart enough to know talking won't save him is also why Blondie's smart enough not to lead them to the correct grave later. Foreshadowing!)
Blondie asks if Tuco's dead, hesitant, stopping before the last word. Perhaps this is the moment he realizes he actually hopes he's not.
Angel Eyes is in friendly mode with Blondie. It'll be easier with two of them! Even gives him back his gun -- Angel Eyes presumably figures he's not in danger from Blondie because, with Tuco gone, Blondie needs Angel Eyes to get the money, and obviously he wouldn't just squander that opportunity for no reason, right? Even so, when Blondie unholsters his gun, Angel Eyes slows down as he's putting on his jacket, watching him, probably prepared to react if Blondie were to point it anywhere unexpected.
But he doesn't, of course. Blondie is always one to wait for the best possible chance; if he were to shoot Angel Eyes in the middle of the prison camp he runs, it'd just alert the guards and get him killed. And of course, usually he wouldn't do it until such a time as Angel Eyes is getting ready to shoot him.
(Angel Eyes insists he's not greedy and only taking half, as an incentive for Blondie to actually come along and guide him to the correct grave, but once they do get to the grave, he of course just pulls a gun on Blondie -- he never actually intended to keep that promise.)
When someone at the train station (another injured soldier, missing an arm) asks where Wallace is taking Tuco, and Wallace says to Hell with a rope around his neck and a price on his head, Tuco adds, "Yeah. $3000, friend! That's a lot of money for a head. I bet they didn't even pay you a penny for your arm." It's extremely Tuco that as he's being taken to be hanged, with no Blondie to shoot him down, he's choosing to live in the world where this just makes him impressive and important.
Man, Wallace is so pointlessly violent with Tuco even when he's not even being ordered to torture him specifically. Very understandable how much utter loathing Tuco has for him in particular.
Wallace calls Tuco lucky compared to the Confederate spy who has been tied to the front of a train, because at least he's going to go relatively quickly. Jeez. Striking background elements.
Wallace also makes a quip about how there isn't any partner this time to shoot Tuco down -- he must've heard about the con he ran with Blondie from Angel Eyes, who witnessed them doing it together that one time during the second hanging.
All in all, we've just had yet another shift in the situation! Angel Eyes is now taking Blondie along with him towards the cemetery, while Tuco has been sent off to be executed. We've still got two guys who each know half of the secret -- but at this point, we're all rooting for Tuco to escape, aren't we. We've also got some very important signals here about Blondie's growing empathy for Tuco: the lingering look at the blood on the floor, how he hesitates asking if Tuco's dead. One way or another, he's grown to care for the guy, in spite of everything.
The perfect number
Blondie sleeps with his hand by his pistol, of course he does.
We see his eyes flick open briefly at the sound of footsteps, then he closes them again, and then a few seconds later after the camera has panned back to his hand, when the footsteps have already gone quiet, he suddenly grabs the gun and shoots. This suggests he wakes up at the noise but only decides to fire a bit later, after pretending he's still asleep for a bit. Initially I took it he'd just shot basically on reflex after hearing something in his sleep and then put together that it's someone Angel Eyes instructed to follow them, but on a closer look it doesn't actually look like that's what's going on. Instead, presumably Angel Eyes had told his guys to stay hidden, and this guy only stepped out into the open because Blondie was asleep -- only Blondie is a light sleeper, noticed, took a moment to think, and then decided to go for it.
I think his thought process must be essentially this: first he deduces this guy must be working for Angel Eyes -- either recognizing him from Batterville or just noting that he seems totally unsurprised to see him and Angel Eyes sleeping there. And while traveling to the cemetery along with one guy gives Blondie a pretty good chance of making it out of this alive, Angel Eyes having hidden cronies following them in the shadows is plainly designed to stack the deck hopelessly against him. Blondie is never going to survive this if there's going to be a hidden assassin or more lying in wait (obviously he's not buying that Angel Eyes is doing this just to fairly split the gold with Blondie and then let him go). So he makes a snap judgement to take down at least this one and call Angel Eyes out, knowing once again that because he knows the grave he's too valuable to kill right now.
(This is definitely the most unprompted murder Blondie does in the movie, though -- this guy definitely wasn't drawing his gun, just existing as a future threat to Blondie. RIP.)
Either way, "If your friends stay out in the damp, they're liable to catch a cold, aren't they? …Or a bullet," is a fun one-liner. Blondie shooting them is just something unfortunate that might happen, the way catching a cold happens. (But really, he's warning Angel Eyes that he's on to him with the hidden assassins and he will shoot if he catches any more sneaking around.)
Angel Eyes just looks amused and impressed that Blondie just killed one of his men. Normal reactions that normal people have.
Presumably Angel Eyes tells his men to come out because Blondie just threatened to kill them if they stay hidden, hoping to pacify him. But Blondie still has his leverage, so he just as good as announces airily that he's still planning to kill them all. Angel Eyes may laugh, and be willing to call his bluff as far as his own self is concerned due to the Blondie also can't get the money without him thing, but his poor lackeys must be sweating -- Blondie is running around with a gun, he's just promised to kill them and has no real reason not to follow up, and Angel Eyes almost certainly wants the money, and thus Blondie alive, more than he cares about the lives of any of them.
I guess the lackeys aren't too keen on their prospects if they were to attempt to disarm Blondie right now, and if anyone actually dared to shoot him before Angel Eyes' say-so, they could expect his wrath. It's sort of surprising none of them attempt to just get the hell out of there at this point, though -- everyone just shrugging after this while Blondie is there with his gun and a designated bullet for each of them sure is something.
Blondie may in fact have been going for trying to scare off the lackeys. He does not actually think he has much of a chance alone against six men -- hence why he doesn't in fact make a move until he manages to team back up with Tuco later.
He does also say, "Since we're all going in the same direction, might as well go together," which vaguely suggests he's not planning to murder them all right now or anything -- which gives them a bit of time to desert Angel Eyes, if they're going to.
Sometimes the phrasing of lines in the English dub is kind of funny or off, and I just write it off because it's a live-action dub trying its best to vaguely match the lip flaps (sometimes pretty successfully, sometimes a lot less so). But Blondie explicitly spelling out that six is the perfect number because it's the number of bullets in his gun is one instance where I feel like the writing itself is legitimately just kind of clunky in a distracting way. The line about six being the perfect number is good and fun, if the audience is trusted to infer what he means; the spelling-out is unnecessary and exacerbates the sense that Angel Eyes and his men are kind of idiot balling here (you mean to tell me that Angel Eyes, the picture of hypercompetence and master of threatening insinuations, heard him go, "Six. Perfect number :)))", just after shooting one guy and then reloading his revolver with another bullet, and couldn't tell what he meant?).
(Also, why does Blondie say he has six more bullets in his gun. That would imply it's six in addition to the one he's just fired, but no, the one he fired left him with five and that's why he just had to replace that one. Surely the sensible line would be to just say he has six bullets in his gun, no more.)
Incidentally, six really is what is called a perfect number in mathematics (it equals the sum of its integer divisors). Obviously this is not what either Blondie or Angel Eyes is talking about. It might have made at least somewhat more sense if Angel Eyes had said something about the actual concept called a perfect number of which six is genuinely an example (it would still be implying Angel Eyes is somehow enough of a nerd about math, and thinks Blondie is enough of a nerd about math, to think of that first, but at least it would be an explanation for him taking it to be anything other than a reference to the number of bullets in a revolver), but no, saying three is the perfect number rules out that Angel Eyes knows about perfect numbers, because three is not a perfect number. Terrible.
All in all, "Isn't three the perfect number?" "Yeah. But I got six more bullets in my gun," is definitively by far the worst bit of dialogue in this movie on several different levels, thank you for coming to my TED talk.
This one's another Italian/Extended Cut scene, and while it has a couple of fun lines, and fun implications about Blondie's normal paranoid existence, I think it kind of raises more questions than it answers. I suppose the reason it's there originally is that without it, Angel Eyes explicitly says to Blondie that there's going to be two of them at Batterville only to have five additional guys there next time we see them with no comment; we can pretty easily infer that these are the same crooks he was working with for the smuggling operation at the camp either way (that bit isn't even mentioned in this scene anyway!), but the explicit presentation of it initially as a two-person operation becomes a little strange if a bunch more people then appear for it with no explanation at all. That's a valid concern, I suppose, but meanwhile this scene has that straight-up bad bit of dialogue, and while its implications for the metaphorical chess match between Blondie and Angel Eyes and his men are interesting (I kind of enjoy how confidently both Blondie and Angel Eyes call each other's bluffs here), they're a little nuts, and the movie is probably more coherent if we skip this scene and are left to assume Blondie's simply biding his time and Angel Eyes and his men fully assumed he was willingly cooperating and on board with accompanying them all to the cemetery, even if Blondie's initial reaction to Angel Eyes going, "Oh, by the way, these five guys are coming along too," somewhere offscreen is left to the imagination.
Tuco escapes
This is another bit of Tuco being very resourceful and thinking on his feet. Originally he was trying to reach for the gun in Wallace's holster, but when Wallace catches him he immediately comes up with wanting to take a leak. Gun doesn't work to shoot the chain? Try using it as a hammer, and then a different rock, and then try using a train as a bolt cutter, and then jump onto the train while he's at it.
Wallace already looks unconscious by the time they've rolled down the hill away from the train -- Tuco's just making sure he's very, very dead. The smashing his head into a visibly pointed rock several times is very brutal and also kind of drives home all that Wallace has done to him, which is clearly fueling Tuco in his fervor here.
I enjoy that Tuco briefly looks at the blood on his hand after doing it and then just dries it in the sand. I wonder if he's killed anyone quite so directly with his own two hands before. Either way, though, he is not one to linger on it.
"You made a lot of noise, my friend, huh?" he says, calling back to his little seething remark from the first scene where Wallace beat on him about liking how big, fat men like him make more noise when they fall and sometimes they never stand up -- another little bit tying it more directly back to Wallace's abuse.
I enjoy how Tuco is tangibly pretty scared to be up there so close to the moving train, but he sure is still doing it.
Most brutal fate in this movie is definitely Wallace. Pulled out of a moving train, head bashed several times into a pointy rock, then laid down on a train track where he gets dragged along the track for a bit. Eeesh. Certainly a very conscious choice that he's the most violently sadistic character here; Angel Eyes, again, may be an evil bastard, but all of his violence is serving some purpose for him, whereas Wallace has constantly been pointlessly violent just to be cruel.
The ghost town
This movie being very striking even in an incidental scene: the guy made to carry his own coffin to his execution. His crime is explicitly, according to the sign he's also been made to carry, just that he's a thief. What a horrid, awful little background event.
(In this movie, there are six different scenes involving executions or something resembling them in some form, legal or extrajudicial: Tuco's two hangings, Tuco trying to hang Blondie, Shorty's hanging, this guy being executed by firing squad, and Blondie hanging Tuco at the end. In addition to all this, there's how Tuco is going to be hanged when he escapes, and then there's the background gallows at the prison camp. As someone with a thing for executions in fiction, I am truly, shamelessly feasting here. There are many, many other reasons I enjoy this movie, 30k+ words' worth as I am currently demonstrating, but "several hangings and a firing squad" definitely does not hurt.)
Tuco has new clothes here, so clearly we've had some time in between where he managed to get new ones -- he didn't just step off that train he caught or anything. Very reasonably, I assume he ditched the Confederate uniform as soon as possible after what that got them into.
Man, this town really is shot to hell and back. Very tangible sense of how the war has just utterly destroyed it. And yet, once again it's not the main characters' biggest concern, really. It's just a place they're passing through.
Tuco, choosing to just casually use someone else's abandoned bathwater and pour the entire contents of several jars of different bath salts into it. Likewise with the multiple times he licks soap. What a madman.
I love that the purpose of the one-armed bounty hunter is just to be somebody for Tuco to shoot in this town so that Blondie can recognize the sound of his gun and come find him. That's literally all this means for the plot, but they just make a hilarious little sequence and continuity gag out of it, with Tuco being his delightful self with the "When you have to shoot, shoot, don't talk!" line, and that's an iconic choice.
(Tuco, as ever, applies pretty different standards to himself -- he sure could've just shot Blondie on multiple occasions if he really wanted to, but first wanted elaborate revenge, then hesitated, took the time to say goodbye, and then ultimately got interupted. But it's all very personal with Blondie. Random bounty hunter #3? He's just shooting. Bet it was very personal on random bounty hunter #3's end too, though.)
Likewise, Blondie has befriended a tiny stray kitten, who probably just happened to wander into his hat, and calls the kitten 'large one'. It's adorable, and instantly makes Blondie 500% more charming, and also its actual purpose is that there is no way Blondie would explain out loud for the benefit of the audience here why he's standing up to find Tuco unless he had someone to say it to who isn't Angel Eyes' men. Solution? He says it to a random kitten who's there now. A completely shameless approach that totally serves its purpose and adds to the characterization in the process: like Tuco's religiosity, it doesn't mean anything for the plot per se that Blondie is somebody who would see a stray kitten climbing into his hat, gently lift it and pet the kitten and address it by a cute ironic moniker and tell it what he's thinking, but it just adds a little bit of charming extra dimension to him. (And it reinforces the capacity for empathy that he has but has been very quiet about showing so far.)
(Incidentally, even though he was genuinely speaking English on set, you can tell Clint Eastwood's lips aren't totally in sync here, and I gather the Italian line here is just something closer to, "Every gun makes its own sound, and I recognize that one." Is "large one" a product of Mickey Knox doing a rewrite but trying to match it to the lip flaps of a line that originally ended in "that one"? If so, truly the best dubbing choice of all time. The kitten is already adorable, but Blondie calling them large one, my heart.)
That's not to say they couldn't possibly have conveyed that point in a different way, mind. We could see Blondie look up silently and walk away and then tell Tuco when he shows up that he followed the sound of his gun (definitely wouldn't be unreasonable or out of character for Tuco to ask about that). It would have been a little awkward, though, since the actual trigger for him silently getting up would have been taking place a little before the cut to him doing so (and we can't cut straight after the gunshots, because then we would lose "If you have to shoot, shoot, don't talk!", which we definitely cannot). Instead, kitten. Excellent.
(On the other hand, I am very sad for this stray kitten wandering around a ghost town as all the people are leaving. Noooooo please tell me Large One is okay)
(If Tuco has the same gun as before, that must mean Wallace had and was carrying Tuco's gun, and then he took it with him before catching the train, after initially throwing it away in frustration? I don't know guns well enough to tell if it's genuinely all the same gun.)
Angel Eyes sending only one guy after Blondie really makes considerably less sense with Blondie having explicitly threatened to kill all of them in the perfect number scene, doesn't it. Without that scene, it checks out that Angel Eyes wants to keep an eye on Blondie but doesn't immediately have any particular reason to think he's about to betray them or liable to attack anyone; with it, it's a wonder Clem doesn't protest.
RIP Clem. Blondie may jump him when he turns a corner, but even he has his hand on his gun before Blondie actually shoots him, though he freezes and stops drawing it before Blondie actually shoots. (Would he have even gone on to actually shoot Blondie if he'd gotten the chance? Well, Angel Eyes still wants him alive… but perhaps Clem might have tried to shoot him somewhere debilitating but not fatal, which is a thing that generally never happens onscreen in this movie but is clearly something that hypothetically can happen, what with all the injured soldiers with lost limbs.)
Things were once again looking pretty bleak for Blondie here. It was always extremely unlikely he could take out six men on his own, even if he did threaten to do so. He could create an opportunity with Clem, because Angel Eyes sent one guy after him, but it's doubtful he'd ever have been able to pull that more than once; all in all, all roads seem to lead to inescapably getting killed at the cemetery while outnumbered. But then he recognizes Tuco's gun. And if there were two of them, maybe they would have a chance at whittling down Angel Eyes' men. Regardless of anything else, he can easily assume that Tuco will agree to join him: that gets Tuco back in the race for the money.
So why was hearing Tuco's gun perfect timing, anyway? I'm enjoying the thought that Blondie was actually starting to consider attempting something foolish on his own by the time those shots rang out. If what I think I read about the Italian line is accurate, perfect timing is an English dub only thing, but it does create some fun potential implications.
Reunion
Love Tuco playing with the bubbles in the bath; what a ridiculous lovable problem man. Sometimes he's not only naïve but outright childlike.
"Just give me a little time to get dressed and I'll open up!" says Tuco, presumably assuming it's more people here to kill him and hoping he can get the jump on them if they think he's oblivious and are expecting to wait. Instead, it's Blondie on the other side of the room, pointing a gun at him, having distracted Tuco with the front door while coming in from the back -- much like Tuco did to him back at the inn. Parallels!
Blondie opens by telling him to put his drawers on and take his gun off. Instead, Tuco takes his gun off but then gets distracted by wait, how is he here, so he just stands there stark naked for this whole bit and Blondie just takes it in stride without comment. Amazing.
Presumably, Tuco's assumption here was that after Wallace took him away from Batterville, Angel Eyes would have had Blondie tortured as well, and then either killed him too or just kept him locked up. (Naturally, though he seemed to be feeling a bit of guilt about giving up Blondie in the wake of the torture, by now he has suppressed any sense of guilt or regret for this.) Blondie instead being seemingly alive and unscathed and out of there is suspicious.
Blondie says he's here with "your old friend, Angel Eyes". We didn't actually see Tuco talk to Blondie about Angel Eyes on-screen, only "Hey, Blondie, isn't that Angel Eyes?", but it tracks that Tuco would have told him they were old friends, because of course he did because they were definitely friends, and of course Blondie makes a little ironic jab at it now, after Angel Eyes cold-bloodedly had Tuco tortured.
Tuco sounds legitimately angry at the thought that Blondie talked, despite that he himself talked, and gave up Blondie specifically. Very Tuco moment. As ever, he just applies very different standards to himself, who will just do whatever he needs to do, than to others. And I think he legitimately hadn't expected Blondie to talk. How dare he give Angel Eyes the secret when he wouldn't give it to him?!
Blondie could so easily make at least a bit of a jab at the fact Tuco not only talked but obviously gave up Blondie specifically, too. But instead he chooses to completely ignore that bit and just say nah, he didn't talk, and I love that. Blondie does not want to get on his case for whatever he said under torture, and the blatant hypocrisy is just Tuco being Tuco, something that he understands and expects and tunes out by now.
Tuco is so happy when he realizes Blondie is the only one who knows his half of the secret and he's choosing Tuco, and it kind of breaks my heart. In his naïve way, he just figures Blondie wanted to find the treasure with him rather than Angel Eyes, and he's just over the moon about it -- Blondie likes him! Actually went out of his way to come find him!
I love "I get dressed, I kill him, be right back." Obviously if Blondie came here with Angel Eyes and then ditched him and came to Tuco instead, Angel Eyes has got to be seeing red and looking for Blondie right now, and he's a loose end generally, and in Tuco's elation about being Blondie's preferred partner, going out and casually killing Angel Eyes just seems like a simple no-big-deal task! He'll be right back!
When Blondie says there's five of them, Tuco's face falls, because oh, that's not quite a simple no-big-deal task even in his current state of inflated confidence. And then, when Blondie confirms… his eyes narrow a bit. "So that's why you came to Tuco." In other words, not because he just likes Tuco better and wants to share the treasure with him instead, but because if Blondie tells them or shows them the correct grave, he is absolutely 100% dead if he's up against five guys. It's a practical calculus after all, when Tuco so plainly wanted it to be because Blondie just likes him better.
But then he just goes, "It doesn't matter! I'll kill them all!" He's going to prove his worth to Blondie, by singlehandedly killing those five dudes, and thus render himself irreplaceable again. He can totally do that. Definitely.
This may be one of my favorite scenes? I love Tuco playing in the bath, Blondie sneaking up on him in the same way as Tuco snuck up on him at the inn, the way Tuco starts at the sound of his gun cocking, the delightful comic energy of Tuco forgetting that he's still standing there naked for this whole conversation, Blondie quietly choosing to let "You traitor, you talked!" go, Tuco's emotional progression and Eli Wallach just being an absolute joy in his portrayal of him as usual. It's so revealing how thrilled Tuco is about thinking Blondie would just rather find the treasure with him and how he shifts when he realizes that's not actually why -- but Blondie genuinely does kind of like this ridiculous man in spite of himself, even though there are cold, practical reasons behind why teaming up with Tuco again is his best bet. I love this complicated, fucked-up, utterly fascinating character dynamic and how we're still adding more delightful layers to it two thirds in.
Two against five
Angel Eyes is still maintaining he wants Blondie alive to his men, but they're free to kill Tuco.
Blondie lets Tuco go out there, determined to do this on his own, before actually joining him. When Tuco notices him, he's watching him there and just smiling, marveling at this guy. Tuco really is fully planning to just go and singlehandedly confront Angel Eyes and four other men. Plainly something Blondie himself would have been too methodical and careful to even attempt under most any circumstances (which is indeed why he came to Tuco), and yet Tuco's just unquestioningly doing it, choosing to live in the world where this isn't almost certainly going to get him killed.
"Were you gonna die alone?" is just cute. Blondie really wasn't expecting him to go do it alone -- the whole point was they'd have a chance if it was the two of them together. It's pretty likely that they'll die anyway, but they really do have the best shot working in tandem.
I enjoy how you can see how it takes a moment for Tuco to even parse what he means, but then comes that cautious bit of a smile and the theme music kicks in and awww yeah! Look at them, working together!
Tuco gets the first guy before Blondie notices him, and Blondie gives him this slightly impressed look, and Tuco crosses himself because of course he does and then moves on, and we see Blondie smile a little bit at that too before they continue. Just Tuco things. Blondie's missed him a bit, hasn't he.
I can't believe the two guys who are behind them with a pretty clear line of sight but don't shoot, and then a rogue cannonball kicks up dust so they can't see and then Blondie and Tuco take them out in succession by drawing their attention and then shooting. I guess they were distracted hearing the cannon by the time the camera made them fully visible.
Tuco's little wink after that one is a delight. He's just having fun.
In terms of the actual action, this sequence isn't that interesting -- Angel Eyes' men don't feel very competent or threatening at all, there's never a real sense that Blondie and Tuco are in serious danger, they barely even actually get shot at, and every time they shoot they just instantly kill the other guy, with not much real tension about it. But really it's a sequence about Blondie and Tuco genuinely working well together. First Tuco kills one Blondie didn't notice, then they each get one in a coordinated effort, then Blondie gets one Tuco didn't notice. They make equal contributions, compensating for each other's weaknesses, and it all works out smoothly, where they cover each other and enhance each other's skills rather than getting in one another's way.
Tuco says Angel Eyes is his and Blondie just says, "All right," a little sign of respect. Angel Eyes did have Tuco tortured, so it seems only right. (Later, though, when it really matters, he will absolutely not leave Angel Eyes to Tuco -- too careful.)
Love Tuco stumbling over reading the word "idiots". He grew up in poverty and probably had zero formal education; he's obviously learned the alphabet and can theoretically read, but for anything but the most common words it clearly takes him a bit of trying to sound things out. Another character trait that's not necessary for anything but it's just fun and adds even more flavor and texture to him, like his religiosity.
Blondie reading it for him and then going "It's for you" and handing it to him is a great gag and also reads fully as good-natured ribbing at this point and it's great -- Tuco doesn't even react to him making that joke, just tears up the piece of paper.
(On the other hand, the Doylist reason he doesn't react is that, as Christopher Frayling's commentary points out, you can tell from Clint Eastwood's lips that on set he said, "It's for us." Again, I love "It's for you"; it's definitely a funnier line, and the comic timing with Blondie handing Tuco the paper is perfect, and the sense of friendly ribbing is great. But what I do enjoy about "It's for us" is that it calls back to the other time Blondie called the two of them collectively idiots, namely, "God's not on our side, 'cause he hates idiots also," and I really do enjoy Blondie calling them both idiots as a pair being not just a somewhat ambiguous one-off thing but a habit. I will take on board the fun implications about his character while considering "It's for you" canon.)
One sequence and the movie has successfully sold us on Blondie and Tuco collaborating in a perfectly genuine way. Last time, we ended on the delightful moment where these two guys who hate each other are going to have to set it aside and work together anyway; by now, an hour later, I was sincerely rooting for them to both make it out of this alive and actually split the treasure together, and that's a marvel after how the entire first half of this movie went. It's just an all-around delight and their dynamic is so much fun. I love them.
(To be concluded in part three! Thanks for reading if you have been.)
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broomsick · 2 years ago
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Personal ideas for simple devotional acts to Njörðr
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Let us all praise the Lord of Ships, the Vanir King. He is the bestower of wealth and the guardian of seas, and his gifts are many! If you’re looking to start working with Njörðr, or worshipping him, these ideas make for quick and simple gestures that showcase your interest. They’re also perfect for a pagan who already maintains a close relationship with the sea, water spirits, or a sea deity. After all, spiritual practice gets hard to sustain when you’re working on a tight schedule! Which is why I hope these little personal ideas can inspire even those of you who already actively worship/work with Njörðr. 
First things first: pondering on what Njörðr stands for, what you think he can bring your life and what you think he would appreciate in return. 
Going for walks on windy days. Njörðr is said to raise winds that are favorable to sailboats! 
Cooking and eating sea products, especially if you can find them fresh! I usually keep an eye out for fishermen’s markets. It’s a good idea to buy locally if the opportunity presents itself. The most important thing is to make sure you’re buying from sustainable fish farming companies, especially if you’re at a restaurant or buying from a grocery store.
Putting the sound of waves as background music before sleep. You can visualize the sea, or the ocean, and use this image to connect with Njörðr either by simply meditating on him and his gifts, or even by praying to him.
If possible, spending time near bodies of water: water is a network which connects the land to the ocean. In the end, all rivers, no matter how small, are bound to the ocean. 
Watching documentaries on the sea, or on marine life! The simple gesture of learning about his domain, developing your understanding of it, can make you feel that much closer to the Father of Light-Bringers. 
Whenever you’re at a local beach, collecting seashells or rocks which catch your eye! They’re a way to bring a piece of the sea home with you! 
Since I cook a lot, there’s this little habit I’ve come to develop, of adding a pinch of sea salt (or fleur de sel) to every recipe. Of course, I won’t do this if I’m cooking a simple sandwich for myself: I’m talking about large pots of soup, meat pies, stews, etc. It’s a way of reminding myself that the Vanir bring about the fertility which allows us sustain ourselves. 
Learning sea shanties!!! Did you smile? That’s because sea shanties are fun, and what better way to honor a God than by having fun in their name! One of my favorite songs ever is a folk ballad about an old woman who begs her husband to leave the city and go back to the island where they used to live, where she could watch the seagulls and where he would fish their dinner. Songs such as these can make for beautiful and deeply personal offerings. Once you’ve learned a fisherman’s song, you’ll find yourself humming it in your day-to-day, and thinking of Njörðr as you’re doing so.
Making offerings of coin to him. I’ve heard that he was particularly fond of the coin-shaped chocolates that are wrapped in gold foil! Generally, anything that is made of gold or silver makes for a beautiful offering to him. You can, of course, keep such objects after offering them! The act of sharing them with Njörðr is symbolic, as are many offerings, and you are as entitled to keeping these valuables as you are to drinking offering alcohol after the ritual is done. Placing your silver/gold object on a windowsill or an altar for a day, a week or a month is enough to act as an offering.  
When it comes to the Vanir, you usually can’t go wrong with buying local products! What does your area specialize in, in terms of food? Now that summer’s at our door, we’ve reached the perfect time to look into local farmer’s markets. If, like me, you’re in the habit of offering alcohol to some or most of your deities, local draft beer is a great idea for Njörðr. In my area, grocery shops sometimes sell this one beer that’s made using salt water! It’s my go-to for Njörðr, understandably.
Acting generously, taking opportunities to share with others! It’s a way of honoring and embodying the Vanir King’s own benevolence.
As a follow-up, working on your ability to be compassionate: putting yourself in somebody else’s shoes, forgiving a wrong that has been done to you, finding compromise during a conflict with loved ones... If you are put in a position of leadership, lead others with care and attentiveness. Njörðr’s mythological son Freyr is heavily associated with peace. By protecting peace, you are honoring them both. 
Keeping a symbol of his on you as an amulet: representations of fish, anchors, lighthouses, ships, or anything else that symbolizes the sea all make for beautiful reminders of Njörðr’s presence. Especially if they are silver or gold-colored! In fact, a simple silver or gold coin, or even just a coin with special meaning in your heart, is the perfect amulet to keep in your wallet/purse in his honor. 
Learning to tie knots, or any other simple skill that is useful on a boat is fun and a great way to feel connected with the sea. This goes without saying but if you’ve got the chance to go for a boat ride, take it in his honor!
Asking him to grant you a safe journey before traveling long distances.
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Art, Njörðr statue
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throneofsapphics · 1 year ago
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Manon x reader x Asterin (angst) please 🤸‍♀️
think for yourself.
(part two)
Manon x Reader x Asterin 
Summary: “I don’t care how you feel about this.” The white haired witch said through gritted teeth, those gold eyes seeming to burn a brand into you. 
“When have you ever cared?” Your voice was quiet and you went against all common sense, turning your back to walk towards the kitchen area. “Leave.”
Word Count: ~1.4k
Warnings: angst, slight injury, blood 
A/N: angst is my favorite thing to write. I'm so sorry. also not proofread very well
It was late at night, in the small cabin you lived in, a few miles from the nearest village, perfectly secluded. The safest way for you to live. When you made trips into town, they welcomed you with open arms - mostly because of the herbs and goods you would barter or sell, but you did have a few friends there. Nobody there knows exactly where you live, nor did you invite anyone over, and you always took different routes home, shaking any who tried to follow. Even if that meant you would double the amount of time it took you to get back. Paranoia is good. It’s kept you alive. However, any common sense seemed to fall away for two witches. Who’d thankfully captured your heart instead of tearing it out. 
-
I haven’t seen your kind for some time.” A smooth and cold voice purred from behind you. Rarely could anyone sneak up on you, not with the senses from your Fae heritage. You slowly turned to face them. To of them. Witches. One with white-blonde hair and a predatory look in her eyes stalked towards you, the other fell into step a pace behind her, matching each other in pace and stride. Instead of the urge to flee, a small voice told you to stay. So you did, with that immortal stillness. Fleeing would give them a chase, something they undoubtedly would enjoy. 
You didn’t flinch as iron nails snapped out, or as one dug under your chin, tilting your face upwards. You met the burnt-gold eyes with a defiant gaze. “I don’t remember them being quite so pretty,” the other commented, and you could hear the amusement but didn’t dare take your eyes off the witch in front of you. The nails snapped back, and the two walked away without another word. 
-
The cabin had one bedroom, a living and kitchen area, and an outhouse. A few hens cluck around outside, along with a particularly nasty rooster you caught Manon eyeing once in a while. Like it would be her next meal. 
You laid, stretched across the couch with your head in Asterin’s lap, her fingers running through your hair, and Manon sat not too far away, in a worn down but cozy red armchair you’d come to associate as hers. 
A tension filled the room, both of the witches seeming on edge, and you couldn’t figure out why. Finally, you sighed and sat up, ignoring Asterin’s huff of protest and angling yourself so you could easily see both of them. “What is it?” you asked. 
“We’re leaving.” Manon said bluntly, and Asterin winced. 
“When?” You replied, fighting the dread that crept inside you. The left frequently, but something about this felt different. Off. 
“One week.” 
Your heart dropped, eyes starting to burn slightly but Manon wouldn’t react to your tears, she never did. Asterin, on the other hand, would. To anyone else, except maybe the rest of the thirteen, she would seem just as unflinching, the perfect mask of stone obedience. But, the corners of her lips turned down ever so slightly. Guilt, you could sense her guilt. If they were telling you this early … 
You cleared your throat, “how long?” 
“We don’t know.” Asterin said softly. 
“Can I ask what you’ll be doing?” 
“You can always ask,” she teased, but it fell short. She and Manon exchanged a glance, and Asterin continued - to your surprise. “The King has been breeding Wyvern’s. He needs riders for his aerial cavalry.” 
The world froze around you. You felt fate tightening its strings, twisting around your heart. Ironteeth witches as aerial cavalry for the king's army. That same army who … but they didn’t know about that, or they never would’ve told you. 
“Are you going to say anything?” Manon snapped, your silence annoying her. She didn’t like being ignored. 
“Why?” You looked back and forth between the two of them. 
“When we are done, when we’ve served” Manon said the word with disgust, “him, we will keep the wyverns and reclaim the wastes.” 
The wastes. The homeland both of them had been dreaming of for longer than you were alive. But serving him? The King had already conquered Erilea, committed various genocides, banished magic, and had an entire continent under his thumb. What more is he planning to do? Manon, herself, would never make the choice to serve a king, to follow his orders, meaning it had to have come from her grandmother. The High Witch of the Blackbeak clan. You tried to swallow your anger, you really did, but the words came out before your filter could catch up. 
“Is this how you’re going to spend the rest of your life, following your grandmothers every order, whoring yourself out to that King?” Before you could blink, both were on their feet. Manon’s iron nails dug harshly into your skin, and you felt the warm slick of blood starting to drip down your neck as she dragged you to your feet. 
“I should kill you.” Manon snarled, cold fury in her eyes. You’d insulted her, hit right where it would hurt. Good. Asterin laid a hand on her cousin's shoulder, but her eyes were cold too. 
“Do it,” you snarled right back, “your never master would order you to anyway.” 
Asterin barely yanked Manon back in time, scratches that would scar left blood dripping down your neck. “Be careful what you say next,” she warned as Manon shook off her grip. Seconds ago, Manon may have killed you but you could tell she wouldn’t now. 
“I don’t care how you feel about this.” The white haired witch said through gritted teeth, those gold eyes seeming to burn a brand into you. 
“When have you ever cared?” Your voice was quiet and you went against all common sense, turning your back to walk towards the kitchen area. “Leave.” 
Two sets of footsteps left, the door creaked open and slammed shut, and hushed arguments sounded outside your door. Too quiet for you to hear. One set came back in as the heavy oak door creaked, but closed quietly this time. 
“She does care,” Asterin said softly, her arms wrapping around your waist to pull your back to her chest. Despite the anger still bubbling in you, you melted back into her, resting your head against her shoulder. “She’ll be back in a few days,” she murmured, not expecting a reply from you. 
She let you lay in her arms until late that night, content to enjoy each others embrace, as if she knew what would happen next. 
-
Manon stormed towards your cabin, intent on doing something. She wouldn’t apologize, but didn’t want to leave on those terms, with your words in her mind. Whoring yourself out. Your new master. If you were anyone else, you would’ve been dead before the second curse had been uttered. 
Asterin followed closely behind her. They knew something was off as soon as they arrived. It felt stale. The hens and that gods-damned rooster were nowhere to be seen. She slammed through the door and the place was empty. You hadn’t been there in a few days. A quick scan told her everything essential to you was gone.
She whirled on Asterin. “Did you know?” Her second shook her head, her emotions flooding through her eyes. 
A small note on the table. Manon’s stomach dropped seeing it. She didn’t want to, but she had to read it. Instinct told her the note was meant mostly for her, even without a name on it., 
I love you. If you ever loved, cared for, or respected me, you’ll leave me alone. I hope you learn to think for yourself one day. 
Discolored spots and splotched ink littered the page. You cried while writing it. Manon dropped it like it burned her, and stalked out the cabin without a look back. 
Asterin read it one. Twice. Three times, and memorized it before destroying it. She took one last look around, trying to memorize every detail, before letting out a long breath and following Manon. 
-
The battle was over, and Manon still felt empty. A gaping hole left in her soul. Twelve pieces of her were missing. But, footsteps sounded behind her, and she prepared to snarl at whoever might be disturbing her. She was surprised when Abraxos didn’t react beyond curiosity. Manon knew that scent. Intimately. She whirled around to see you. Alive. 
“So you did learn to think for yourself.” 
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little-miss-dilf-lover · 1 year ago
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Ooo I’ve missed you!!! This idea just came to me if it’s okay!!
Can I please request a Big brothers!Tangerine and Lemon x Younger sister!reader where when they’re on the Bullet Train, things of theirs keep disappearing, the case, their phones, wallets, etc… Turns out Y/n, a 15 year old girl had been pickpocketing the both of them, and she’s so good at it that the two expert assassins didn’t even notice until she took something bigger lol, the case hshs. Anyways, after they deal with the Prince, they come in guns blazing expecting the thief to be another assassin, not just a kid. They take her under their wing?
Y/n reminds them of a younger them? (Also she’s a foster kid like they were)
hii!! ive missed you !! and yes, ofc, always! love it, I did change the age to 17, hope that’s okay, just so it’s closer to be an adult (as I only really write adult readers) thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌
sneaky findings
tangerine x fem!reader x lemon (platonic)
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word count: 740
✧.┊ MASTERLIST
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You haven't been dealt a good hand in life, so you've had to supplement it in other ways. Your ways just so happened to be dipping into the pockets of others- literally. 
Because you were a child in the foster system, you moved around a lot. You regularly met new kids, and so you'd pick up on tips and tricks from the others- granted, most of them were illegal, but better yet, they were tricks that became a habit and what would later become the reason for your survival. 
And this brings you to today: sitting patiently on the bullet train at Tokyo station with your ticket and last 200 yen. You were in desperate need of a little extra cash, so you were hoping and counting on some good finds on your trip to Kyoto.
When the train left the station, you got up as inconspicuously as possible, avoiding attention as you sneaked down the aisles, slipping your hand into the passenger's pockets and swiftly back into your own. When you were in the connecting carriage area and safe, you would assess your findings. 
Usually, you were pretty lucky: new makes of phones, fancy watches and sometimes genuine gold bangles. So far, it wasn't so good, just a couple packs of gum and mostly empty wallets. 
You try your luck in the next carriage, immediately spotting a couple of Englishmen in designer suits up ahead. They weren't your typical target, but you had a solid feeling about these two- they were bound to have some expensive things for you to pocket and sell. 
You slowly walk down the aisle, a brochure in hand as you pretend to read through it, skimming over the page to create the illusion. Once you are sure they're busy with the other guy at the table, you slip your hand into their pockets, pulling out their wallets and phones. 
You reach the end of the carriage and stop once more to assess your findings before spotting something in the luggage area, the silver briefcase you overheard. Grabbing it as quickly as possible, you hide it in your bag, covering it with the scarf you stole from earlier today. 
After a few more snatchings, you stroll to the lounge and instantly slump into the comfy seats, kicking your feet up on the opposite chair. The area was empty, so you could finally add up your profits from today in peace. You did a lot better than you thought, especially with that promising silver case. You just had to get in there first to calculate your total earnings.
"Oi, you!" a voice calls out from behind, startling you.
You sink lower in your chair, hiding the exposed back of your head.
"I can still see you."
"That’s the girl?" another one says. "She's a kid?" his voice getting closer.
"You stole all our shit," the first says, walking towards you. "Think it's funny?" He snarks, pushing your feet away to sit on the opposing seat. 
"No," you shrug, pulling your findings closer to you.
"Take it easy, mate. She's only a kid."
"A kid? Lem, she stole all our shit."
"It's pretty impressive if you think about it."
"My stop is coming up," you lie, adjusting yourself to stand.
"Hm, yeah, I don't think so," the first guy shakes his head, holding his hand up. "You're gonna tell us how you knicked our stuff, then give us our shit back."
The other guy stands beside him, crossing his arms, staring you down as if to intimate you. "Nah, I'm just kidding," he laughs. "Just tryna scare you, but didn't work," he grins, nodding to his partner as he mouths something, then turning back to you. "Lemon, and this is my brother, Tangerine."
"Like the fruit? I like it." 
"That's the first," Tangerine scoffs, shaking his head. "You're a bit young to be travelling alone, aren't ya?" He asks, glancing around the empty carriage. 
"No," you shrug.
"How old are ya?" Lemon asks.
"Seventeen,"
"One sec," he says, pulling his brother aside. "We really could use the extra hands. Could you imagine how well we'd do? ... she sorta reminds me of us." 
"I can hear you," you interrupt. "Not being very quiet and assassiny."
"Zip it," Tangerine says over his shoulder. 
"What'd ya say? That a yeah?"
"Yeah, fine," Tangerine sighs, walking over to you and snatching back his phone and wallet. 
"Wanna join us?"
— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —
tan taglist: @tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @angel-of-new-orleans @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things @astermath @dynamitehacke @boldlyimportantface @charmedkim @fruitlovertangerine @psiiconic @bubblezuku @sporadiccherryblossom @landryslove @daenerys-supremacy @dontknownameauthor @honestly-who-even-is-this
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