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rose-tea-and-strawberries · 2 years ago

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After All Is Said And Done

Masterlist After the events of the winter holidays and Jamil’s manipulation, you and your friends are left to pick up the pieces.

Warning: I write the reader as female. Also the reader celebrates Christmas.

Includes: Angst, Female Prefect!Reader, Book 4 Spoilers, references to PTSD and depression, Jamil x Reader if you squint, platonic Ace x Reader x Deuce but can be read as pre-romantic

Honestly, after writing this, I’m thinking about writing a version with Riddle, Azul, Vil and Malleus...

You know I'm still standing better than I ever did

Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid

I'm still standing after all this time

Picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind

- Elton John, I’m Still Standing

“Hey Y/N, there’s another one,” Grim called out from the doorstep. You can feel your stomach sink, already knowing just what was left at your door.

“Ugh,” Ace groaned in disgust, “you’d think that he’d give up after all this time.”

You mentally agreed. Ever since the incident in Scarabia during the winter holidays, Kalim has been making an effort to invite you to his parties. Eagerly calling out your name whenever he spots you and enthusiastically telling you to come join him, listing all of the food and music he’d love to share with you. You have to admit, you did have a soft spot for the young heir, his genuine wholesomeness making it impossible for you to outright dislike him. It’s clear as day that his kindness is authentic, that he actually does want to spend time with you and wishes to bring you enjoyment. The kicked puppy look he gives you every time you politely turn him down with a new excuse each time does take a stab at your conscience but you can’t help it. Every time you think about the possibility of stepping into that dorm your mind reels with memories of darkened rooms, harsh reprimands, agonisingly scalding marches, banging on doors until your hands bruised and screaming for someone, anyone, to let you out until your throat ached.

“Just burn it, Grim, you know the drill,” Deuce told the feline, his face twisted into annoyance.

“Hell yeah,” Grim crows in triumph, about to summon one of his beloved fire blasts before Ace swiped the ornately detailed paper from his paws and unceremoniously threw it into your fireplace not even giving it a glance as the flames burned it to ash.

“Don’t even bother,” Ace said, “stuff like this isn’t worth anyone’s time and effort. At least it can be used to kindle the fire for s’mores now.”

You looked at Ace and Deuce and you thanked The Seven for having such amazing friends. Whilst the uncomfortable twisting in your stomach still remained, their obvious attempt at helping you definitely alleviated it.

The previous winter holidays made it clear just how much they cared about you. The moment that they realised that something was wrong, they put aside their differences and used their own resources to personally check up on you. Granted, you would have appreciated it more if they arrived a few days earlier whilst you were still being kept prisoner but the warmth you felt inside at seeing such friendly faces after so long made up for everything.

When Ace and Deuce had entered Ramshackle with Grim one afternoon to prepare for another impromptu sleepover, with bags of groceries and overnight things in their arms, they were surprised to find it completely silent. Apart from the scuttling and twittering of woodland creatures, the moaning of old pipes and the nervous whispering of the apparitions that lived with you, it was disturbingly quiet.

They felt a collective chill go up their spines, though whether that was due to the lack of heat in this abandoned building, the growing fear that something is wrong with you or the presence of undead spirits huddled up in your living room was unknown.

The ghosts’ head shot up at the sounds of the door creaking closed behind them and the thuds of the boys dropping their bags onto the floor, frazzled worry lining their wispy white non-corporeal forms as they floated towards them. Their clear agitation did absolutely nothing to soothe the trio’s growing anxiety.

“You youngins’ are here for Y/N right?” one of them asked.

“Yeah, we are,” Ace replied, his voice coming out more harsh and aggressive to mask the growing dread.

“Is something wrong?” Deuce’s voice, on the other hand, clearly conveyed every inch of fear that he felt.

“We don’t know,” a taller ghost stated, “we haven’t seen Little Miss in ages.”

“All this time she’s been in her room, without a peep,” another butted in, “it’s been hours and she hasn’t even come down for dinner.”

“And you didn’t think to check on her?!” Ace said angrily, “she could be in trouble.”

“We can’t go in there!” the shortest of them explained defensively, “that’s a lady’s room.”

“And even if we could, what’s the point?” the first one elaborated, “it’s not like we have bodies that can help her.”

“Please go see her,” the second implored, “we’re worried.”

“You really care about her, huh?” Ace noted, seeing the panicked, begging looks that were being directed at them.

“Of course we do,” a ghost stated matter-of-factly, “Little Miss is family.”

“Maybe it’s nothing,” Deuce said after a beat of silence, trying to calm himself and everyone else, “maybe she’s just sleeping?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Grim was quick to jump to that conclusion, any conclusion that wasn’t the fact that his beloved henchman is in trouble, “Henchman’s just conked out. She’s fine.”

Despite his cheery words, he couldn’t help the pit forming in his stomach, a deep hole that not even tuna could satisfy. The three of them looked at each other before running up the creaking stairs, with Deuce throwing the ghosts a quick thank you. As they reached the top and made their way down the corridor and towards your bedroom, they could faintly hear the sound of rushing water getting louder and louder. In spite of the darkness enshrouding the passageway, your room appeared to be fully lit, if the hazy golden glow peeking out from under your door was any indication.

With a firm twist, Ace banged open the door, completely ignoring the sound of it ricocheting off of its adjacent wall in his hurry to see you, only to find your room completely bare of any life. Noticing that the door to the attached bathroom was wide open, the trio rushed towards it only to stand frozen at the doorway.

The sight they were met with was you, sitting hunched up in your bathtub, still fully clothed sans your socks and shoes. Your shower was still on, sending streams of water down towards your crouched figure, completely drenching you.

“Y/N!” the three of them yelled, racing towards you. Grim jumped into your arms, getting on his hind legs so that he could paw at your shoulder and face, doing whatever his tiny hands could do to get you to notice him. Deuce did the same, stepping into the bathtub whilst Ace turned off the spray of water so that he could grip your shoulders and shake you whilst whisper-shouting your name. Still, you did not react, the only result of their attempts to stir you were your eyes laxly opening at their sudden manhandling, causing them to cease their jostling.

You looked less like a human and more like a marionette who had been cut from its strings. Your eyes, that were usually glowing with personality, all bright, fierce and lively, were currently dull, glassy and doll-like, all dim and staring without seeing. The only confirmation they had that their best friend was not a corpse were the small, dainty, robotic blinks of them and the way your chest would softly rise and fall.

“The hell, Deuce,” Ace looked more worried than he did before - and considering the amount of near death experiences he’s been through with you, that’s saying a lot, “what are we supposed to do?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!” Grim exclaimed fiercely, not moving from where he was nestled against your cold, drenched chest, “Henchman needs you!”

“I know-I know,” Deuce was quick to appease him, “why don’t we start by getting her out of here and into something warm? Then we can figure out what to do.”

And so he brought you up into a bridal carry. Usually being so close to you would’ve flustered him beyond belief, his shyness around girls amplified around you despite all that you’ve been through together, especially now that the shower water made your soaked clothes stick onto you like a second skin and making certain aspects of your femininity more obvious but his need to help you was far stronger than any bashfulness he had.

He was scared - they all were. To see someone strong enough to fight overblots, to stand by their side and boldly face down the monsters in the mines, to live in this world that they are both literally and figuratively at the bottom of the food chain, so broken was nothing but haunting, a horrific sight that they’ll never be able to unsee.

Ace opened up your closet, grabbing some towels and a pair of pyjamas that he tossed onto your bed, as Deuce carried you to your bedroom, your head resting against the curve of your shoulder before gently placing you down onto your duvet.

“Let’s get you dried up, okay,” Ace cooed at you, smiling softly and speaking with a gentleness that surprised even him. He began to swipe a towel over your sodden frame as Deuce got to work gently drying your hair from behind you and Grim nuzzled, whined and purred against your lap.

“The ghosts told us that you haven’t eaten dinner,” Deuce murmured, “you should change into some dry clothes whilst we go and get you something.”

He got up from your bed and made a move to leave but your hand shot out and grasped onto the hem of his shirt. You continued to look down, not meeting anyone’s eyes as your shaking voice whispered, “don’t go.”

“Y/N, you’re drenched,” Ace said, “and you haven’t had anything in a while. We’ll be just downstairs and we won’t be gone for long.”

“Stay. Please,” your voice was weak and your eyes downcast, “don’t wanna be alone.”

The card soldiers gave each other a look before nodding and climbing onto your bed so that they sat as close to you as possible. You immediately cuddled up to them, allowing yourself to get enveloped by their touch.

“What’s wrong with me?” you whisper.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, Y/N,” Deuce soothed you, gently stroking your head and back like you would a wounded animal.

“Yeah,” Ace agreed with his rival, “it’s everyone else here that’s messed up.”

“Then why,” you did nothing to stop the tears from falling, your words coming out choked from the way your throat was constricting, “then why does all of this keep on happening to me?”

“I don’t know,” the red head sighed in defeat, continuing his ministrations on you.

You said nothing, allowing them to embrace you as you buried your face into their bodies, letting their clothes and Grim’s fur soak up your tears and muffled sobs.

It didn’t go unnoticed how your companions became even more protective of you after that incident. Wherever you went, they would flank you like guard dogs, shielding you from the rest of NRC and directing a glare at anyone who so much as looked at you. After hearing about how uncomfortable you felt being around certain people, they were on the lookout, not-so-sublty steering your body away from anyone they deemed unworthy of being within your gaze (you could’ve sworn that you heard Grim hiss at some students a few times).

It wasn’t just them. Your family of ghosts also made an effort to check in on you. Even when you couldn’t see them, you could feel them hovering near you in another room, making sure that you looked after yourself, gently reminding you to eat, sleep and rest. They called you over more often to join them in games, sharing stories and jokes, making sure not to mention anything that they felt could upset you.

Your past self - the person you were before your entrance to NRC, a person that now seemed almost like a stranger to you - would’ve found it smothering, almost demeaning at how they’re affections seemed to infantilise you but now, all you can think of is how much their presence comforts you, how loved they make you feel. It made you feel seen and heard, that at least the small handful of allies in your tight inner circle care enough to consider your feelings instead of sweeping them under the rug like everyone else. Like how a few words here and there and a few taps on the wrist were enough to clean up the mess that was the last overblot.

When the dust settled and all was said and done, everyone else partied whilst you were left hurt and broken and once again left to pick up the pieces of your shattered self.

It’s like your body is in constant fight or flight mode, with someone’s fist persistently banging on the ‘flight’ switch. Despite the anxiety and fear buzzing in you whenever you take a step outside, you feel constantly tired, both physically and mentally, your head feels like it’s perpetually submerged underwater and every bite of food you take tastes like sandpaper. ‘Down’ is the only word you can think of to describe yourself. Just chronically down - buried deep, deep underground with no way of clawing back onto the surface. It didn’t matter where you were or who you’re with, all you can hear is your mind constantly screaming at you that you’re in danger. No matter how many times they tried, the combined efforts of your new found family still couldn’t drive away the intrusive thoughts that crept up on you, the dark cloud of foreboding that would hover over you, the cold stare of the Grim Reaper that would follow you. Waiting.

You couldn’t fault Jamil for his overblot. Despite the pains of your heart, the logic of your mind knew that he wasn’t truly to blame for tossing you to the ends of Scarabia, for leaving you shivering in the freezing blizzard, your body numbing from its close brush with hypothermia, for sending projectile after projectile after you with the intent to maim, the intent to kill, for leaving the imprints of snake fangs in your body as companions to the myriad of other scars that were gifted to you from him and the overblots that came before. It didn’t take a genius to know that everything he did whilst covered in that disgustingly sticky black ink (the ink that will now and forever be a recurring character in your dreams) wasn’t under his complete control, no matter what your nightmares and the sinister voices that would whisper in your ear during the dead of night told you.

But you allowed yourself to blame him for everything that happened before his subsequent descent into madness; for kidnapping you, hypnotising you, locking you up in a dark room against your will, keeping you away from the only people (and ghosts) that actually cared about you and prevented you from contacting anyone.

You didn’t blame him for wanting freedom, for holding bitterness because of the cards he was dealt with, you just wished that he didn’t sacrifice your wellbeing in his schemes.

Whilst you did hate him for hypnotising you - in this world you already lost so much control of your life, he had to go ahead and take away even more of it - you resent him even more for manipulating you, for feigning affection in a world that gave you anything but, for using you, exploiting your weaknesses and the fact that you had no one apart from Ace, Deuce and Grim to call a friend.

Whilst Christmas doesn’t exist in this world, you made sure to make plans with your family in Ramshackle - you actually had fun detailing all that you were going to do with the ghosts and Grim: coming up with a menu, making or buying hand puppets to create your own Punch and Judy style panto, asking Sam to stock up on this world’s version of Christmas crackers, and just doing what you can to forget the fact that your friends and family are in a whole other world with no way to even give them glad tidings - but instead you spent it marching in the hot desert, contracting heat exhaustion, fainting due to said heat exhaustion when Kalim (actually Jamil) deprives you of any treatment despite your pleads and complaints, slurring your words and vomiting as you tried to ignore the worst migraine of your life and then spending half an hour breaking down into sobbing fits as you were once again imprisoned in that horrid room.

He made you believe that he was a friend, someone you could rely on. When you lost consciousness in the scorching desert, he gave you medicine and treated you to relieve the pain; when you felt confused and hurt by Kalim’s Jekyll-and Hyde-like behaviour and in anguish over not being able to leave, he provided a sympathetic ear and comforting smile as he gave you words of solace. But it was all a lie; you were suffering in the desert because of him, Kalim was hostile to you because of him, you were chased, treated horribly by the Scarabians and locked up against your will because of him.

All the torment you felt was because of him.

When you asked the Dorm Leader of Octavinelle and his underlings for help, you felt sick to your stomach, like scorching acid was leaving your mouth instead of words, at the very idea of having to ask the ones who conspired to make you homeless for help. But you had no choice, and the fact that he put you in a position where you had to go to people that you would rather die than ever associate with again makes you hate him even more.

Although, if you had to be honest, in a strange, warped sort of way, you almost respected Ashengrotto for what he did to you. At least he was honest when he stripped you of your home and the only family you had in this world, at least his malicious intentions weren’t hidden when he slyly slid you that dreaded contract - you didn’t even know why you were even surprised when he sent the eels out to harass you in his attempt at sabotage, he might not have invented sleaziness but he sure as hell perfected it. As dodgy as the mermen are, it would be better to have someone that you know you can never trust than one who takes your trust and then crumbles it to sand with his own hands right in front of you.

And Kalim - God, if your feelings for Kalim weren’t the epitome of mixed then you don’t know what is. On the one hand, the genuine warmth he exuded upon meeting you was unprecedented. Unlike the other students in this school, who openly treated you with hostility and malice before you could even say a word, he was the only one good-natured enough to show you the kindness you had missed from your world. Despite the obvious power imbalance, he treated you as an equal, sweeping you away on a magic carpet ride, treating you to the finest delicacies he had to offer, chatting, laughing and playing with you as if you were a person and not some magicless human that didn’t belong. But on the other hand he disregarded everything you went through under his so-called ‘best friend’s’ schemes. All the pain you suffered, all the scars you gained - both physical and emotional - were swept under the rug as Kalim answered Jamil’s public (“and insincere,” your mind adds) apology with an “I forgive you.”

“I forgive you.”

‘I forgive you’ Kalim says brightly and merrily goes out of his way to include Jamil during dorm activities like the Vice Housewarden didn’t do the magical equivalent of drugging and kidnapping you. Like he didn’t play you like a fool, dangling the possibility of friendship, of the companionship that you craved in this strange and lonely new world, before ripping it away from you and stabbing you in the back. Like he didn’t use you as a pawn in his sick, twisted game, literally controlling you and isolating you from any kindness you could get. It didn’t matter that after this you’ll never be the same again. No, of course not.

Because in this world, you didn’t matter.

It all comes to a head when the Viper himself is the one that approaches you.

You’re eating lunch in the dining hall when you feel an arm wrap around your shoulders and you get pulled into Ace’s chest. On your other side you can see Deuce’s hackles raise, his jaw clenching and glaring at an unknown individual with barely concealed anger, looking very much like the ex-delinquent he used to be.

“Whaddya want?” Grim drawls boorishly at the source of your friends’ ire, “we’re eatin’ here.”

“I’m aware of that,” the smooth, velvety voice of the Vice Dorm Leader of Scarabia makes you tense, an action Ace must have felt because you feel his hand squeeze yours shortly after. You writhe in place, loosening his hold and giving you enough wiggle room to get out of his grip. With your hand still in his, you turn to look at the interloper, to see what he says next, “Kalim’s hosting a banquet this evening and he’s asked me to personally invite Y/N.”

“Well she’s not coming,” Grim snapped at him.

“She’s busy,” Deuce said.

“And she has nothing to say to you,” Ace interjected, “so you can go ahead and bog off.”

Viper sighs, “I see. If that’s all.”

He turns around to leave but you stop him, “w-wait.”

At this not only he turns to look at you with bewilderment but Ace, Deuce and Grim as well. You continue, “can I please speak with you outside, there’s something I have to say.”

“Wha-Y/N are you sure?” Deuce said, looking at you with worry.

“Yeah, you don’t have to do this,” Ace agreed.

“He doesn’t deserve it,” Grim said imploringly.

You smiled at him and pet the fur on his head before giving Ace and Deuce reassuring glances, “I’ll be fine. We’ll be just in the corridor outside so you’ll be nearby.”

“Alright then if you say so. But if he tries anything…” Deuce gives the Scarabian a glare, letting his threat linger.

With that you get up and wordlessly walk out of the dining hall and into the empty hallway adjacent to it, knowing that the other was following you without having to turn around and look. You stop at a corner and after taking a deep sigh to brace yourself you turn around and tell him with varying steadiness, “I just want to say that as much as I appreciate Kalim’s generosity and hospitality, I’m afraid that I have to decline.”

“Quite the journey just for one sentence,” he raises an eyebrow, the only expression his inscrutable face allows, “you couldn’t have said this back there?”

“It’s best if I told you this one-on-one just to get it out of the way. Make it clear that I’m the one who told you that I can’t attend and my friends have nothing to do with it. Now if you’ll excuse me-”

“But that’s not all you want to say, is it?” his question pierces you like a blade to your chest, releasing all of the air that was in your lungs.

“Whatever it is you want to say to me,” he intones, his voice as calm and collected and fake as it always is, “I can take it.”

Jamil Viper was many things but an idiot is not one of them. After Kalim’s first five consecutive rejections, he was well-aware that the so-called emergencies, errands and other assorted tasks were just excuses you made to prevent you from outright telling the Dorm Leader that you just didn’t want to attend. He can’t say he blamed you. He understood that you had a less than stellar time during your last visit to the dorm - after all, he was responsible for it. He tried explaining to Kalim that perhaps it would be best to leave you alone but his bleeding heart refused to understand that you were just being polite. He did consider you a friend after all, and truly wanted to pay you back for everything that you did to help him and his dorm during the holidays and to hear your refusals disheartened him, sending him whining about how he wished he could make you happy to thank you for all that you’ve done and make up for what happened. Jamil’s statements that maybe you just wanted to be left alone fell on deaf ears as the young heir decided to send another invite through him. Jamil bit back the remark that he would be the last person you wanted to see and begrudgingly left to do his duty.

“What if what I want to say to you is that the very sight of you makes me sick?”

You’ve got to hand it to yourself, despite having over a decade to fine tune his poker face and hide his inner thoughts, his eyes visibly widened, shock flashing over his features before immediately regaining their usual unreadable appearance.

You would’ve relished at his slip up, that for less than a second you were able to gain an upper hand over the man who toyed with your vulnerability and orchestrated your suffering, if you didn’t have a voice in your head warning you that it could all just be another ploy, another way for him to trap you in his coils and squeeze until you choke.

That’s what snakes do after all. They patiently lie in wait, completely unassuming and unthreatening, before they strike so fast and so viciously that its prey is completely helpless to the onslaught of venom that’s injected into its neck.

He continues to stare at you, speechless so you continue, clenching your hands in a desperate attempt to stop them from shaking and willing your voice to stop wobbling despite every nerve in your body yelling at you to hightail out of there, to get away from the threat, the danger, that you’re not safe, just run, just flee to the refuge of Ramshackle before you inevitably get hurt again.

“I can’t look at you without wanting to throw up. Every time I see your face all I can remember is what you did to me, how you used me, how my feelings were nothing but toys for you to play with to make you feel better. You hurt me. In one of the most unforgivable ways possible and I don’t think that I can go back to the person I was before the holidays.”

“You know what?” you laugh bitterly, shaking your head at yourself, “honestly, I can’t say that you’re completely to blame. It was my mistake for actually being stupid enough to fall for your act. If my time in this world taught me anything it’s that I should never let my guard down. I should’ve known that you never wanted to be my friend, that you, just like everyone else here, only care about yourself, without giving a damn about who you have to hurt to get it. It’s my fault for not learning from my experiences, for deluding myself into thinking that someone can actually like me in this damned place. God, I’m an idiot. At least now I know better than to believe your deception.”

“Y/N-”

“Was it fun, at least? Did you enjoy it? Taking a helpless, magicless girl and using her to satisfy your own twisted schemes? Taking my powerlessness and using that as a stepping stool to make you feel better? Manipulating me like your little lamb for slaughter? At least, I can say that the whole experience taught me something and it’s that no one here cares about me, that apart from Ace, Deuce and Grim, I have no one. So I think it would be best to tell your Dorm Leader that unfortunately, I will not be attending. Or not. You could just hypnotise him. Either way is the same to him.”

You turned around and was about to go back to the comfort of your friends, before tossing a few parting words over your shoulder:

“Congratulations, Vice Dorm Leader Viper, you’ve achieved what you wanted. You said that you did all of that so you can finally have your actions acknowledged - well, here you have it. Now I can’t go a minute without acknowledging what you’ve done.”

And with that you walked away, meeting up with Ace, Deuce and Grim as they wrapped their arms around your shaking body and walked you back to the sanctuary of Ramshackle.

#angst #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #twst grim #jamil viper x reader #ace x reader x deuce #fem reader

587 notes · View notes

slocumjoe · 2 years ago

Note

Love your work, really encapsulates the various companions.

Love to see how the companions should react to a companion who either collects a bunch of prewar stuff or just gives them a bunch of little goofy gifts all the time.

Romanced or not, either is fine I think this works well for all of the companions.

(because some of us show effection like crows and give our friends and loved ones little stupid things that make us think of them.)

This was one of the first requests I got, which means it's been a while, so thank you for your patience 💕

Anyway more of my X6-88 is a grumpy, prickly little asshole propaganda

Companions and an Old World antiques collector/magpie person

Cait; always owned only what she could have on her person, so someone who just...has shit, seemingly because they found it shiny, is alien. Even more so once they start trying to share. That's when she freaked out. People don't give Cait shit unless they're looking for something in exchange. If ever convinced that no, this is a present with no strings attached, Cait is even more weirded out. Over time, will come to understand that this, like, a peace offering thing. Oh, alright, it's like cats bringing you mice. Got it. Might start returning the favor, so long as they're okay with small-scale stuff she can easily find.

Codsworth; Panic. Feels an obligation to take very good care of whatever they give him. Will make meticulous spaces for the gifts. Ends up basically playing Barbie with it all. Puts it on pillows, always dusts them, carefully arranges them in ways that he thinks would make the items happiest. Gets nervous if other people even look at their trinkets, or the gifts they've given him. It doesn't help that everything is an antique.

Curie; One of the companions who's doing the same thing. She's curious, she wants to see all there is of the world. Sometimes that means hoarding little baubles. Loves round and shiny things. Their collecting doesn't faze her, nor does the gifting; it's how many things they find. Curie has trinkets, but they...they have a treasure trove. Where are they finding this stuff? Legally, she hopes?

Danse; Doesn't mean to, but ends up treating them as, like...a bloodhound for historical items. Go, boy, go find a pre-historic flipphone from the 2000s! Danse himself is a tip-tappy puppy when bygone technology is involved. Getting presents though...different story. Unless it's tech, something for him to use, he's uncomfortable. Not extremely, like in any other situation where someone expresses affection towards him, but enough he recoils and blinks the first time.

Deacon; Whatever they give him is now a prop for the one-man comedy show that is Deacon Railroadagent. A magnifying glass, and he becomes Nick for awhile. A newspaper, he's complaining about election results and how the taxes are gonna go up. A stuffed animal—Oi, 'e's jus'a l'i'le stree' urch'n, mista, spar'a gohl' coin fah suppah? How could you enable him like this. How could you.

Gage; If you're not pawning it, why bother? Gage thinks like Cait, less is better, easier, not a waste of time and space. Sure, sometimes they scrap shit for parts, but not always. Sometimes they just put it around, decor or whatever. If given anything, 98% chance he is turning around and selling it. If he likes them, will slip it into their bag or personal living space. If very close, he'll keep the damn thing, just...don't ask where it is. Somewhere? Wherever it is, he didn't make caps off it. That's good enough, right...?

Hancock; Will keep precise inventory of their collections and point out if they do or don't have something, when they stumble on a potential new item. Has a surprisingly good idea for authenticity, the goods, as it were. You will never get swindled, buying an antique with Hancock. Sixth sense. It's weird. Why do you know what this one baseball pitcher's favored pen for autographs was? Keeps every present he's ever been given, will make a separate pile for the stuff they give him.

MacCready; Soul. Mates. Always trading shit. Always going off on their own for a certain item they know the other would love, only to run into each other at the exact same item. If they share a home, the only thing keeping it from being a thriftstore is the stickers. Mac is a magpie. He's a collector. He likes having things. Used to satisfy this interest with Hancock as a bro's night, but now. It's like watching penguins throw the same shiny rock at each other over and over.

Nick; doesn't mean to, but flirts hard-core. Got a thing for antiques, huh? You know vintage finery when you see it, don't you? Those hands of yours really know how to handle Old World treasures, don't they? Nick. Nick. Please. He doesn't notice. Will need to be told, hey, you sound really horny. Horrified. He's made those jokes to every mechanic that gave him a tune-up. People who had their hands inside him. This includes Danse.

Piper; Just let her read the newspapers they find, and she's a happy camper. Also not a collector kind of person, but a present is a present. Honestly, though, also on the side of "just sell it." Unless it's historically important, especially sentimental, or useful, the extra caps would be more practical. She's never going to say that, hell no, and she'll find them little trinkets to add to their collection, but internally, wonders if it's a coping mechanism or something.

Preston; Is uncapable of having things after Quincy, always paranoid about needing to be on the move again. Feels lingering dread around magpie types, now, privately considers them Chekov's Gun. Now, Preston understands this mostly irrational and pushes it down whenever he gets a little twitchy about it. Will even enjoy talking about their collection, especially if there's historical shit. But there's always a tiny little goblin voice whispering "this poor bastard"

X6-88; Why are you hoarding garbage? Are you making your own scrap yard? Wait, this is all to keep? All of it? Oh. So, why are you hoarding garbage? Just to have? So it is a scrap yard. It's a neverending cascade of increasingly judgemental questioning. Like when children get curious and are unintentionally Satan's Water Torture. Will try to aid them in their collection by giving them things he thinks they'd like, but is...literal garbage. Gets magnificently indignant if they decline. TRASH IS TRASH. WHATS WRONG WITH THIS TRASH?!

This situation would have even the most incompassionate Institute scientists consider that synths could be people with free will. Because they sure as shit didn't make him like this.

#fo4 #fallout 4 #paladin danse #preston garvey #piper wright #nick valentine #x6-88 #companions react #robert joseph maccready #porter gage #codsworth

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arecaceae175 · 2 years ago

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Authenticity Ch. 22: Vocal Stim

Summary: Wild, Hyrule, and Four are foraging for mushrooms. Wild expresses his excitement with vocal stims.

615 words, fluff. For requests made by Inessen and TenacityShades on AO3.

Warnings: brief mention (like, two sentences) of ableism and Wild being forced to hide his autistic traits. It’s mentioned in relation to his time as a knight Pre-Calamity

“Is this one good?” Four asked, pointing at a growth of mighty thistle.

Wild hopped over and knelt down next to Four. “Hm. It is, but it won’t work in the soup or the risotto. We need more mushrooms. That’s mighty thistle. It grows in fields and plains, mainly. If I cook it right, it helps my attacks do more damage for a while. Flora isn’t quite sure how it works, but she thinks it has something to do with increasing the adrenaline or the muscle tone, or something.”

“Are you going to take it anyway?” Four asked with a smirk. He was very familiar with Wild’s collecting habits.

“I’m gonna take it anyway,” Wild said as he plucked the flowers from the plant. “It’s pretty abundant around here, so it’s fine to take as much as we find.”

Four nodded then got back to his feet to resume their search. Wild followed, bouncing on his toes happily. He loved foraging.

“Shroom, shroom, shroom,” Wild said as he bounced.

“Wild, over here!” Hyrule called. Wild rushed over to Hyrule and found him kneeling over a thick growth of Hylian Shrooms.

“Shrooms!” Wild exclaimed as he knelt down.

“Shrooms,” Hyrule echoed with a nod.

Wild inspected the mushrooms to make sure they were good to eat. They looked perfect for harvesting, so Wild picked them and added them to the growing pile in his bag.

“Nice,” Hyrule said.

Wild jumped to his feet and flapped his hands happily. Foraging was so much fun!

“Shrooms!” Wild said.

“Shrooms,” Hyrule echoed again. “That’s so fun to say.”

“Shrooms!” Wild agreed.

Sometimes Wild got a sound stuck in his mouth. It didn’t happen very often, but when it did, he would find himself repeating the sound over and over and over. When he’s upset and gets stuck on a sound, making the sound helps him calm down. Most of the time, though, the sounds get stuck when he’s happy. Making the sounds helps him feel the happy feelings, and share his happy feelings with the world.

Wild remembered clearly the first time a sound got stuck in front of Flora. They were in Lurelin helping a fishing crew clean their catch for a feast. Wild was repeating the word fish. Flora stared at him for a long time, then smiled widely and joined in.

Later, she explained that Wild only ever did repetitive sounds in front of her, Before. He never spoke when he was assigned as her knight, so that was the only time she heard his voice. She also said that while Wild never explicitly told her about it, she believed he was taught not to make repetitive sounds at all. Hearing Wild make sounds, especially happy sounds, always brought her joy and comfort.

Since that conversation, Wild has been letting himself make repetitive sounds more and more. It sometimes made him anxious to do sounds in front of people he wasn’t comfortable with, but he was working through that. As long as he was comfortable and happy, it shouldn’t matter if others gave him weird looks. The sounds always made him feel better, and in his memory no one had ever told him to stop, so he didn’t.

“I got one!”

Four’s voice brought Wild back to the present. Four was holding an Ironshroom.

“Shroom,” Wild said happily. He bounced over to Four, inspected the mushroom, then put it in his bag.

“Four, you should say shrooms with us,” Hyrule said.

Four shrugged. “Sure, why not. Shrooms!”

“Shroooooooooms.”

“Shroom, shroom, shroom.”

Hyrule giggled. “It doesn’t sound like a real word anymore.”

Wild’s smile was wide as he bounced through the forest to find more mushrooms.

“Shrooms!”

#authenticity #ace writes #linked universe #lu wild #lu four #lu hyrule

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nycwtch · 2 years ago

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HOW THE FUCK DO I COOK THAT IM BROKE AS SHIT (HTFDICTIBASVV) , Master post:

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emmersreads · 1 year ago

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We Ride Upon Sticks - Quan Barry

4/5

I enjoyed 92% of We Ride Upon Sticks and that’s mostly because I approached it with the right attitude: it ain’t that deep.

This novel is best appreciated as a lighthearted and goofy romp down memory lane. The marketing blurb compares it to Stranger Things and that’s an absolutely delusional comparison; both works trade in 80s nostalgia, but that’s where the similarity ends. It’s better to think of We Ride Upon Sticks as a teen comedy with a faintly supernatural flavour, like Ouran High School Host Club, Derry Girls, or in my mind especially, British comedy St. Trinian’s. Everything, from the supernatural to the interpersonal, is to be jeered and mocked with 2 kool 4 skool teen swagger. And that’s a lot of fun.

I enjoyed the book on its own terms — it’s a genuinely heartwarming picture of teenage friendship and rebellion, and I did indeed laugh at the jokes — but I also liked it on a meta-level. It’s nice to have an unapologetically queer and feminist high school comedy without it being bogged down by mawkish emotional problems. I know I was once a teen constantly beleaguered by mawkish emotional problems (twas the era of Fall Out Boy and 21 Pilots), but as an adult that isn’t the part I look back on fondly. In other words, the art style of Heartstopper is very cute, but manzo do they have problems. We Ride Upon Sticks nails how irony-poisoned and allergic to sincerity we were as teens, and for some reason that meant a lot more to me than teenagers working through their emotions using healthy coping mechanisms and clear communication.

The only thing that really bugged me in the majority of the novel was the unceasing reoccurring jokes. Quan Barry loves a running gag. They come back so constantly and with such absurd regularity that it came back around to being funny for me (through I think a less easily entertained reader might find it simply unendurable instead). But that’s the majority of the book, and I want to move on to the 8% of We Ride Upon Sticks that I didn’t enjoy: the ending.

An unavoidably huge part of this novel is that it is socially conscious. It wants to do right by the feminist, queer, and BIPOC struggles of 80s teens and it wants you to know in the clearest most thoroughly explained language possible. Some readers might find this sanctimonious, but I thought it was fine. One weakness of this approach, however, is that it is always very obvious when the author fumbles the bag.

In this case the bag is the character Corey Young, formerly ‘boy’ Corey.

Spoilers for the ending of We Ride Upon Sticks.

The novel ends with a flash forward to our characters reuniting as middle-aged women so we can see what happened to the Danvers Falcons in adult life. I liked the idea and I liked the fact that for more of the characters their formative years continued well after high school graduation. The one I didn’t like was boy Corey. In the intervening years she has come out and fully transitioned. Now, I know a lot of trans people in real life and also I understand obvious foreshadowing, so I saw this coming a mile away. It was not a Reveal. Problem is the book so desperately wanted to treat it as one. We get this super long fake out scene before the book reveals that Corey is a woman now! Surprise! Were you expecting a man! I found that kinda tasteless.

What bothered me more is that while we hear a lot about the team’s anxiety about reuniting with Corey — will they say the wrong thing? Did they made transition harder for her? — we never hear anything from Corey herself. I’d put this down to a lack of authorial confidence. It feels like Barry is a lot more familiar with how it feels to be friends with a trans woman than how it feels to be a trans woman. That’s not a problem in and of itself, but I felt we needed to hear Corey’s side of things too. Is she excited to reunite with all her friends as her authentic gender? Is she apprehensive about spending time with people who only knew her pre-transition? This book is all about centring marginalized perspectives, that’s why it spends so much time explicitly calling out the ways the characters themselves fails at this — that it was disappointing for it to end by cantering a bunch of cis women’s anxiety about being accepting enough over a trans woman’s thoughts. Since this is what the book is All About, the comparatively small detail has an out-sized impact.

I already didn’t like the specifics of the reveal, and its general effect didn’t work either. It is one of a whole bunch of fake outs and twists in the flash forward section. There are so many that it fucks up the pacing, since the story is now being told essentially in reverse to accommodate the dramatic reveals. It ends on the note that the Danvers Falcons’ success was never the work of the devil, the idea of supernatural intervention just gave a bunch of teenagers the excuse they needed to work hard and band together. I thought that was really sweet, but it takes so long to get there that I was just ready for it to be over.

On balance, this is a recommend from me. I like that it’s fun and lighthearted, but it is also a queer novel that isn’t afraid to be ironic and crass. I enjoyed the absurd 80s references and the overplayed jokes. I liked that sports fiction can be for girls sometimes!

Let the hairspray wash over you and don’t worry about what the long term effects of all those CFCs will end up being.

#book review #bookblr #read in 2024 #books and reading #bookstagram #contemporary fiction #we ride upon sticks #quan barry #book blogging

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bagsbusiness · 9 months ago

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Hermès Reselling: Irrational Investing or Fashion Flipping?

There is no denying the appeal of Hermès purses. However, some people feel that they are unaffordable due to the exclusivity and exorbitant retail costs. This supports a robust resale market where astute people profit from owning Hermès items.

But is becoming an Hermès reseller a guaranteed path to riches, or a gamble fraught with risk? Let's delve into the world of Hermès resale to see if the profit margins justify the effort.

Remember that you can become an Hermès reseller and sell or buy your original Hermès handbags on Resellers Connector without commissions.

The Hermès Resale Landscape: A Seller's Paradise?

Hermès's controlled distribution strategy creates a constant demand that outstrips supply. This scarcity translates to high resale values for certain Birkin and Kelly styles, especially in exotic leathers or limited-edition colors. Resellers can potentially fetch five to seven times the retail price for these coveted bags.

However, not all Hermès items are created equal. Classic canvas Constance bags or less popular newer models might only retain their retail value, or even depreciate slightly. Understanding the specific Hermès models with strong resale potential is crucial for success.

Challenges on the Hermès Reselling Road

Building Credibility: The luxury resale market is competitive. Establishing yourself as a trustworthy seller takes time and effort. Authenticity is paramount, and potential buyers will scrutinize photos, descriptions, and your reputation before committing. Building a positive online presence through platforms like The RealReal or reputable consignment stores is essential.

Sourcing Hermès: Obtaining Hermès directly from boutiques is notoriously difficult. Sales associates often prioritize long-term clients, leaving resellers with limited options. This can lead to relying on secondary markets or auctions, which introduce risks of inauthenticity and higher competition.

The Hermès Boutique Blacklist: Hermès is known to be wary of resellers. Frequent purchases of popular models might flag you, making it even harder to acquire future inventory directly.

Time Investment: Researching, sourcing, photographing, listing, and negotiating sales takes considerable time. Factor in authentication fees, potential returns, and the time it can take to sell a specific item.

The Math of Hermès Reselling:

Let's consider a scenario. You purchase a pre-owned black Birkin bag for $10,000. After authentication fees and potential repairs, you list it for $20,000. Factoring in a selling platform's commission (typically 15-30%), your profit could be around $5,000-$7,000. This seems lucrative, but remember, it's not guaranteed. The bag might take months to sell, and there's always the risk of not finding a buyer.

Is Hermès Reselling Right for You?

Hermès reselling can be profitable, but it's not a get-rich-quick scheme. Success requires passion for luxury goods, a keen eye for trends, business acumen, and significant time investment.

Alternatives to Consider:

Curated Vintage: Focus on vintage luxury pieces from various brands. This offers a wider selection and potentially avoids the challenges of acquiring Hermès directly.

Freelance Personal Shopping: Utilize your fashion knowledge to help clients find the perfect Hermès pieces, either retail or pre-owned.

#hermes business #hermes resellers #resellers connector #luxury business #business #bags selling #hermes bags selling #hermes bag #bag reselling

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modafirmauk · 11 months ago

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Exploring the World of Designer Bags and Accessories

Designer bags are more than just fashion statements; they're functional companions for our daily lives. But with so many options available, navigating the world of designer accessories can feel overwhelming. This guide explores the diverse world of Designer Purses & Wallets for Women, messenger and Crossbody bags, backpacks, and even pre-owned finds, providing you with the information you need to find your perfect match.

Purses & Wallets: Everyday Essentials with Style

Purses and wallets are the cornerstones of any bag collection. When choosing a designer purse, consider your lifestyle and needs.

Totes: Perfect for carrying everything you need, totes are ideal for busy professionals or anyone who loves to be prepared. Brands like Longchamp offer spacious yet stylish options.

Clutches: A timeless and elegant choice for evening outings, clutches come in various sizes and materials. Explore Bottega Veneta's woven leather clutches for a touch of Italian craftsmanship.

Crossbody bags: A versatile option for everyday wear, crossbody bags offer hands-free convenience. Saint Laurent's iconic "Le Sac YSL" is a classic example.

Wallets are equally important. Consider functionality when choosing yours:

Cardholders: Ideal for minimalists, cardholders offer a slim profile for everyday essentials. Mulberry offers sleek and stylish cardholder options.

Bifold wallets: A classic choice, bifold wallets provide space for cards and cash. Gucci's signature leather bifolds offer a touch of luxury.

Zip-around wallets: Offering security and multiple compartments, zip-around wallets are perfect for those who carry a lot. Michael Kors offers a wide range of functional and stylish zip-around wallets.

Stylish Messenger & Crossbody Bags: The Perfect Blend of Form & Function

Messenger and Crossbody Bags offer a stylish alternative to traditional backpacks. They're perfect for carrying essentials while maintaining a polished look.

Messenger bags: Offering a professional and practical vibe, messenger bags are perfect for work or school. Burberry's iconic check print messenger bags are a timeless choice.

Crossbody bags: Versatile and fashionable, crossbody bags come in various sizes and styles. Chanel's classic flap bag is a timeless crossbody option.

Women's Leather Backpacks: Luxury Meets Practicality

Leather backpacks are a stylish and practical option for everyday use. They're perfect for carrying heavier items while maintaining a sophisticated look.

Structured backpacks: Ideal for work or travel, structured backpacks offer organization and style. Balenciaga's City bag is a popular choice for its sleek design and functionality.

Convertible backpacks: Offering versatility, convertible backpacks can be transformed into totes or Crossbody bags. Tory Burch's convertible backpacks are a practical and stylish choice.

Pre-Owned Designer Bags: Sustainable Luxury for the Savvy Shopper

Looking for a unique and sustainable way to enter the world of designer bags? Consider pre-owned options. Reputable online platforms and vintage stores offer a treasure trove of authentic pieces at a fraction of the original price.

Environmental benefits: Choosing pre-owned reduces your environmental impact by giving a new life to existing bags.

Unique finds: Discover rare and vintage pieces that are no longer available in stores.

Cost-effective: Enjoy the luxury of designer brands at a more accessible price point.

Choosing the Perfect Designer Bag: It's All About YouUltimately, the perfect designer women’s handbags are one that reflects your unique style and complements your lifestyle. Consider your needs, explore different brands and styles, and don't be afraid to invest in a piece that you'll cherish for years to come. Whether it's a timeless purse, a practical backpack, or a unique pre-owned find, the designer bag world offers something for everyone.

#Designer Bags and Accessories #fashion #fashion items

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retagresellingluxury · 20 days ago

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How to Style Luxury Belts for Men: Mastering the Art of Sophisticated Accessories

https://retag.in/en/blog/how-to-style-luxury-belts-for-men-mastering-the-art-of-sophisticated-accessories

Men's luxury belts have for some time been a fundamental of style, adding a complex touch and utility to any outfit. Wearing a belt has been changed by organizations like Christian Dior and Gucci, who have diverted it from an accomplice to a statement piece.

The right belt can easily add refinement to your look, whether you're getting ready for a conventional occasion or a casual night out. The following advice will assist you with turning into a master of accessorizing luxury belts for men in different settings.

Casual Styling: Effortless Sophistication

A high-end belt may add sophistication to casual outfits without looking overdone.

Pairing with Jeans

Everyone needs a good pair of jeans, and if worn with a high-end belt, you look so much better right off the bat. For instance, a pair of well fitted black trousers, classic brown leather Gucci GG logo belt, dark denim and a white cotton T shirt is well coordinated. To dress it up a little, wear it with white shoes for business casual meetings or to a brunch.

Smart-Casual Chic

Wearing aCD belt with chinos and a linen shirt can add flair to your smart-casual outfits. Beige trousers and a light blue button-down shirt provide a striking contrast with a black CD logo belt. Complete the look with Chelsea boots or loafers for a polished yet casual look.

Accessorizing Thoughtfully

Keep in mind to balance the belt's logo with the rest of your outfit. Keep other accessories simple to prevent a cluttered appearance if your belt features a big brand, like Dior's iconic CD or Gucci's double G buckle. All you need to complete your look is an essential watch or bracelet.

Formal Styling: The Pinnacle of Elegance

Luxury belts are a must-have for formal wear since they elevate your look without drawing too much attention to themselves. Here's how you wear them with your clothes:

Suits and Belts

If you’re going for the more traditional look, try a charcoal or navy suit, black Gucci belt is a perfect match. It becomes appropriate if the belt’s leather type is homogenous to that of the shoes you intend to wear.

A thin belt with small logos on the buckle best fits a formal setting since they exude elegance and less bluntness. For instance, a CD belt with a simple grasp and a sleek black leather strap is ideal for a black-tie event or business meeting.

Tuxedo Styling

A fancy belt can still be helpful if you're going to a wedding or gala. Choose a belt with a classy buckle that goes well with your tuxedo's satin accents. Many Dior and Gucci belt men complement formal materials with matte or polished finishes. Make sure the color of your belt matches the color of your tuxedo shoes, which are usually black or patent leather.

Avoid Overpowering Logos

Privacy is essential in formal contexts. Select belts with minimal logos or simple patterns to keep your appearance refined and businesslike. Instead of a stunning logo, the entire ensemble should continue as the primary focus.

Semi-Formal Styling: Balancing Comfort and Sophistication

Semi-formal events provide you with more creative design options, which make them a great chance to show off your expensive belts.

Pairing with Blazers

A well-fitting jacket, fitted pants, and a luxurious belt make a winning ensemble for semi-formal occasions. For example, blue pants and a beige blazer look great with a brown Gucci belt and a gold buckle. For a look that works well from day to night, pair it with a clean white shirt and brown loafers.

Mixing Colors and Textures

Wearing semi-formal clothing allows you to play around with colors and textures. Grey pants, a thin pink dress shirt, and a silver-buckled Christian Dior belt with a navy strap look great. Maintaining balance is crucial; instead of making a bold statement, utilize the belt to create a subtle contrast.

Footwear Coordination

Matching your shoes and belt is essential, just like formal attire. Brogues, monk straps, or loafers are frequently worn with semi-formal attire, so pick a belt that matches the style and color of your shoes.

Tips for Choosing the Right Belt

You must choose the appropriate Gucci belt men for every situation to become an expert at dressing them. The following advice can help you make decisions:

Focus on Fit

In addition to fulfilling a helpful position, a properly fitted belt improves your entire look. For the ideal balance, the length of the belt should enable you to fasten it using the middle hole.

Choose Versatile Colors

Invest in neutral colors like black, brown, and navy to ensure your belt goes with a range of outfits. Both professional and informal settings benefit from the use of neutral colors.

Consider the Buckle Design

There are many different styles of belt buckles, ranging from modest clasps to striking symbols. While minimalist designs are appropriate for formal and semi-formal settings, you can choose a statement buckle for informal outfits.

Conclusion

Luxury belts for men are investments in classic elegance rather than merely accessories. Whether you're dressing semi-officially, formally, or casually, labels like Christian Dior and Gucci provide adaptable options that may make every ensemble look better. You may create outfits that radiate confidence and refinement by paying attention to details like buckle design, color combination, and fit.

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