#No its not because it full of detail or anything

[4mrplumi]

ZERO (ii): SCAVENGERY . (ms/prev/next)

-> plot synopsis - you don't think you're as odd and horrifying as the news makes you out to be. but you have never much cared for the validation of others, and certainly not theirs. 

-> batfamily x serial killer reader. playlist (wip) ask 2b added to taglist

-> tw; gn reader, toxic relationships, fem love interest, unhealthy coping mechanisms, obsessive compulsive disorder, paranoia, murder, sociopathic tendencies, full on master list.

> a/n; this entry is skippable! while ive done work to establish the laws and details for the insert and the world around them, the batfamily moments one would look for scattered across. the prologue is planned for this world building exactly, and the next part will be focused on the family.

you have to be prepared. profiled. planned. not paranoid. you are not paranoid.

plans upon plans, plots behind plots, ploys behind ploys. by sixteen, you had your entire life planned out, exactly what you'd do, what you’d do if that didn’t work out, and another two back up plans just in case. you were prepared for yourself to get moved around like this too, driving into the third option you’d laid for your life. with its own backup plans, own what if’s and what not’s, probables and situations.

order. organisation. prepared.

it only makes you a little sick to see your behaviour mirrored on the man of the house, with his contingencies and protocols. but you’re not that stuck up, surely. you do it only out of resentment, you're nothing like him. he and your family are unable to save the scraps they've left, you have to do this to make up for the mess they've created.

you make sure none of your outings, meeting areas, contact lists or even the names you sign on grocery bills are the same. you can’t let any common clue stick out, whether it’s in your civilian life, or under the duty you’ve taken up. even though you’re relatively low on their radar right now, studying the world’s greatest detective’s tactics and those of his rogues has taught you that a frayed past never does anyone any good. it was a backup plan, a just in case, in the event you gained too much unwanted attention.

you want your family out of your business. it’s funny how the teenage, "i’m my own person" phase has so morbidly warped in your life. but you mean it. you don’t trust them with their rules, and will not risk anything trying to correct their errors and making yourself a target. they can live in oblivion, but you won't let them intrude. you don’t trust them.

to ensure your “friends”, as you have termed them, stay similarly in line, you make sure they update you on everything. no detail of common interest is hidden, because everything is common, aligned, on your principles and clues. everything must be known, not because you are paranoid. you check in on them, their health, their whereabouts, their families. they’re in debt, with not much space to refuse, taking the burner phones you force into their hands wearily. but sentimental isn’t the best word to use for you.

you are concerned for the wellbeing of your accomplices only to the extent that they remain in your line of work, alive. yes, you will feed their families and see to their wounds, but only and only to tip the scales of their debts towards you. it’s the exact reason why you make sure the work you put on them isn’t too much, so that there's a low chance that scale could be imbalanced, this time, against your favour. they need to remain in your control, to propel your movements and wipe out the instance of a snitch, a tattle tale.

in a way, with much reluctance, this is a trait you’ve picked up from the batman. you’ve learnt that his training comprises many different things, how to stop a man from running, how to disarm their guns, how to keep them from fleeing. but never how to kill.

of course, you don’t do as much fighting as he does, but you’ve taken the liberty to curve his ways to suit you. you’ll teach the people who work for you how to figure out plots, hidden intentions, the next move and the one after that. but never your next move.

you’ve wondered morbidly, only once, if he’d be proud of you, if your skills were somewhere more suitable, per say. but you have no intentions to change your ways for his peace of mind. you do not care for his pride.

you’ve made of yourself an independent dependant, unreliable. you'd caught on early that having expectations from others and expectations on yourself was an unnecessary burden. your first year in the manor was terrible, and it has improved only out of your isolation, your distrust.

you trusted just about no one, and made sure no one trusted you. no debt, no obligation.

you had to know everything, but not because you were paranoid.

there are only five people out of the handful you keep, allowed into your inner circle. people to confide in and accompany you when you need a plus one. they’re the easiest to keep in line, students or workers, and of course, her. your ‘girlfriend’ who too was a device for your plotting.

however, with her drawling voice and less than weary affections, you need to remind her of it often. you’ve heard very little endearment from people in your life; called “kid” or “doll” by the people in your childhood, your proper legal name by your ‘family’, and a plethora of less pleasant things by self-proclaimed rivals in school and on the streets.

so when she takes to calling you angel, you pause from smacking her hand away from curling in your hair. in an attempt to decipher her intentions, knowing damn well she did all this to gain your favour (you would not so kindly give it), you think upon it. for more hours than considered normal.

is she calling you inhumane? damian had said the same thing to you once, coming across your little hobby in the greenhouse once. is she calling you frightening? you were kinder to her than the others, just by a sliver. dick grayson had looked at you with weariness once, perhaps seeing the hint of a familiar scowl on you. or is she genuinely, as genuine as the glorified scum of your accomplices get, being genuine? an angel… you.

you don’t dwell on it any longer after that, pushing her hand aside and her legs off off of yours, leaving. you were not weak, and if that was what she was trying from you, it would not work. you were not weak, and not ashamed to show that you weren’t. people deserve to know their faults. and you’re no exception.

you did not ever, ever hide your disappointment nor disgust. damian wayne was scorned out loud for his empathy, dick grayson scowled at for his sensitivity and tim drake hissed at for his distance. jason todd for his dramatics, but not to his face, and duke for his concerns.

you judged, as an interrupting scoff that broke their peace, and did none of it for fun. you did not gain anything by irritating your brothers, nor did you hope to lose anything. you were speaking your mind, what they deserved to know.

if they resented you for it, fine! you couldn't care less, since you didn’t owe each other anything for it. you wanted them out of the way, and needed none of their kindness. you are unbothered.

you are not paranoid, but you can always be more prepared.

> a/n; i hope i’ve made a good effort to build on the mindset here. i had to rewrite this whole chapter cus the styles weren’t matching up (- - ;;) the prologues are super just set ins. plot starts from ch1 that i'm hoping to get out before my exams.

i’m incredibly happy that people are finding interest in this!! however, i need opinions on the relationship dynamics you think would be visible with the “friends”. i will expand on it maybe in a drabble? even though this is something i’m writing, i think it's important to know what kind of thoughts my sentences create. this means valid criticism on the writing is also appreciated (just please don’t be mean).

thank you for reading!!

taglist: @boredselkie @shirp-collector-of-fixations @randomlyappearingartist @bat1212 @maicenitas @xjesterxjacksx @heartjwonie @lucienneb1ue @vikkus-main @adornedlace @cuntiesweet @minorlyatfall @staarflowerr

[vintagesimstress]

Northern & Southern European Dyes Palette(s)

It's been almost exactly two years since I made my Iron Age Palette. To celebrate that anniversary... No, you know what, actually not, it's a total coincidence 😅 I was working on a new thing and started wondering about this and that; to not bore you with the details, let's just say that one thing let to another and of course I ended up revisiting the very basics. So here it is! Not one, but TWO new colour palettes for our oldtime-y sims. Based on the lives of my Britons at some point in 1st century CE, shortly before the Roman conquest.

An important note: the southern palette is actually rather an add-on than a separate palette. As in, Romans would surely have access to the dyes from the northern palette as well. But as stated above, I made this whole thing from the viewpoint of a British Celt, hence we have two palettes: one with dyes which he could just obtain from native plants and the other with those he'd have to import. The southerners were more blessed in this aspect :]

You can download PDF files for both of those palettes and .txt files to be used in Paint.net (put them in Documents\paint.net User Files\Palettes). If anyone wants to help me out and make them useable in Photoshop too, please go ahead!

DOWNLOAD them on my Patreon! (always free, no early access etc.)

Apart from a bunch of visual changes (maybe the font will actually be readable this time? Gasp!), there's some new stuff in the palettes themselves (duh). Let's take a quick look, shall we?

undyed wool - hard to call it a dye, lol, but ofc it had to be here. The so-called primitive sheep of the Brittonic era looked quite different from what we imagine when we think 'sheep', and they most certainly came not only in white, but also in many shades of brown or even black. Perfect for making a colourful garment even without any dyes;

birch leaves - easy to obtain, easy to dye; almost no changes here, other than one added shade which used to be under 'mixed ingredients' before;

birch bark - OK, I don't remember where I took the old colours from, but I'm afraid I was being too optimistic. Birch bark gives rather pinkish than reddish shades; actually, it needs a looooooong soak and proper pH to turn anything but very bright, subtle pink. But it seems you can get them and they don't wash out that easily, so - there you go;

elderberry - here I was for sure being too optimistic, especially with that one pretty, saturated blue shade which got thrown away. From what I've read (and seen in photos...), elderberry is a very tricky dye, not particularly water- and lightfast. 'Not particularly' is mildly put - it just washes out in no time, leaving you either with a very pale or very greyish shade of the once vibrant colour. Adjusted accordingly (and they're still too pretty tbh);

apple leaves/twigs - that's a bit of a tricky point, because the Internet claims it was only Romans who brought apples to Britain. But at the same time apple cider was Britain's national drink allegedly already during the Celtic times. Heck, Welsh mythical island of Avalon literally means 'isle of apples', and mythology tends to be... you know... old. Huh? After a bit of research on the topic I'm inclined to believe that what Romans really brought with them were big, sweet apples and their organised cultivation; but small, tart, 'untasty' varieties did exist in Britain even before, growing in the wild. Perfect for making cider - or dyes 😉;

nettle - no changes here. Easy, cheap, grows everywhere, just that the colours are probably not something you'd wear to a party;

hedge bedstraw - seems it's growing everywhere in Britain, so it's plausible the ancients would've made use of it;

lichen - aaaaalriiight, now, that is a big discovery! Beautiful shades and absolutely possible to obtain from the varieties growing on the British Isles. One of the most crucial omissions from my old palette, here finally in its full glory.

That was it for the northern palette. And the southern? Glad you asked:

weld - previously called 'dyer's rocket', but no one in the whole wide natural dyeing Internet calls it that. Beautiful, vibrant, very steady yellow; won't give away even if you overdye it with indigo or woad. It's native to the Mediterranean and while it was cultivated in Britain in later centuries, I have no reason to believe that was also the case in 1 c. CE. I dub it imported;

madder - I keep reading that it's giving saturated red shades, but I have yet to see anyone dye a skein of yarn deep red with madder only. All that keeps popping up in pictures are gentle, pinkish reds, so that's what I included in my palette too. The orange comes from changed pH of the water;

woad - OK, that's my most epic fail of all. To make a Celtic palette and not include woad?! Putting aside the whole matter of Britons possibly maybe but actually maybe not using it to paint their faces (a very controversial matter, let's not go there 😅), woad was the blue dye in those times. Indigo was far away and while it was being imported to Rome, afaik it was used mostly for painting, not cloth dyeing; and besides, as crazy as it may sound, woad seems to do the job better. Seriously. Higher water and light fastness. The question is, was it cultivated in Britain or imported? Just like weld, it's native to the Mediterraean. There is a British find of a bunch of woad seeds, from 1 c. BCE - but then again, it's just one find. So... Mostly imported but slowly being introduced to the Isles? Maybe?

mixed ingredients - the ingredients specified in the PDFs are given in the order they're used - that makes a difference! My biggest discovery of this whole natural dyeing research is that, surprisingly, vibrant green is the absolutely most difficult colour to obtain. That dark green you see at the bottom - so-called Lincoln green - requires super high levels of both weld and woad, and you must put your yellow skein in the blue dye asap - if you're too slow, you get a lighter shade, e.g. like the one above it. The Hightowers surely knew how to show they're rich, huh...?

and last but not least, the luxury dyes! Some imported from far away (turmeric), some from nearby lands (Tyrian purple), some even grown locally (there were saffron plantations on Sicily. True story), but nevertheless, all super duper expensive. Tyrian purple was actually legally reserved for the emperor only - even if you could, by some miracle, afford it, you'd probably get arrested if you dared to dress in that particular shade of purple. Good that lichens could always come to the rescue!

Guess that's enough of behind-the-scenes trivia, isn't it? Props to you if you managed to get to this point, lol. Have fun with the palettes and happy recolouring!

***

Sources:

dzikiebarwy.com - in Polish, but the pictures should speak for themselves. Here you've got a post about dyeing with summer plants, including birch leaves, here - elderberry, here - apple leaves and twigs, here - nettle;

https://woolandpalette.com/blogs/news/making-vibrant-green-with-natural-dyes was my first step in finding out how to obtain a proper green shade with natural dyes;

wooltribulations.blogspot.com - dyeing with birch bark (here), another failed elderberry experiment (here) and overdyeing weld with woad for a deep Lincoln green shade (here);

www.jennydean.co.uk - an absolute godsend, especially two posts: 'Dyes of the Celts' (here) and 'Colours of the Romans' (here);

https://craftinvaders.co.uk/making-dye-from-lichen/

https://earlychurchhistory.org/fashion/colors-dyes-for-clothing-in-ancient-rome/ - on the posh dyes for the rich;

https://www.butserancientfarm.co.uk/gallery - except for the general vibe (*chef's kiss*), the 'animals and nature' section of the gallery has pictures of the 'primitive' sheep which they keep at the farm;

...and a bunch of others which I didn't save in my bookmarks 🙃

[glassofice]

"They thank them for their patronage and take their final bow"

[passerinesoncaffeine]

the irony of one the first main things established about omori as a character is that he's known for his great memory as if he hasn't lost the entire fucking plot repeatedly for years.

like he has a great memory!! if you don't take into account He's Actually The God Of Repression.

[in-fair-verona-we-set-our-scene]

Something I really adore about Minthara is she's the only companion--and honestly the only major character really--who truly brings the horror and tragedy of what is being done to the True Souls to the forefront, and reveals just what an awful fate you and the companions avoided by mere chance. Because at that point you're mostly thinking about turning into an illithid and true destruction of the self, not how you would've been a True Soul--but still you--slaughtering your way across the countryside like every other infected.

Because it doesn't matter how good or noble or strong-willed you are. Every companion, from Astarion to Wyll, would've been willing to commit atrocities in the Absolute's name were it not for the Prism.

The way she describes the Absolute is so insidious. How she had no choice, or more accurately her mind had been warped to the point that whatever the Absolute wanted was the best choice she could ever make. Minthara is Minthara, she expresses absolutely no shame for some truly horrid things and proudly claims evil actions taken in the name of survival or faith as her own, and yet what she did under the Absolute's control is what she outright rejects as being in any way her fault. The way Orin tormented her and then it was remembered as something revelatory, divine, rather than a moment of fear and violation, is so fucked up. Minthara is such a genuinely proud woman, so seeing her so affected and her declaration that she'd rather die than have her mind and agency stolen again, is very disturbing.

There are a few moments where the True Souls get a bit of narrative sympathy and humanity. Those siblings outside of the Grove for example. But Minthara is the one who truly brings home how every True Soul is a person who has been taken and violated and exploited with no real say or ability to resist. They are victims and their Chosen-ness is almost a mocking parody of the relationship between the gods (Bhaal, Myrkul, Bane, Shar, Mystra, Vlaakith) and their Chosen (Durge and Orin, Ketheric, Gortash, Shadowheart, Gale, Lae'zel) where the entire farce and delusion of it is laid out for us to see. At the very least the vampire spawn have some sort of will outside of their master, the True Souls don't even get that. And you still have to kill them.

Very fitting for the tragedy-horror theme of the 2nd Act though.

[tommygotwrittenoff]

no cuz does buck know about what t did? like he's probably heard a vague "well the 118 wasn't always a super friendly place," but does he KNOW??? does he know t was on the front lines next to gerrard?? i refuse to believe that buck buckley on 911 would date a man who used to harass his family.

[bonnieisaway]

now in my head i understand and i know it's a very good and cool artistic choice that during the scene in s3 of seven saving thirteen (you all know what i'm fucking talking about let's be so fr do i even need the screenshot) that when it plays back seven actually reaching out for thirteen that it's not a fluid animation and it's frame by frame movements to illustrate how little time they had and how quickly seven was moving to save her. yet however as an editor with a specific taste for my own content i'd fucking love this thing to have a bit more GODDAMN MOVEMENT /J

[snekdood]

i think the reason ppl get so uppity about you calling a scam a scam rn is bc they feel so powerless about the situation in i/p that they'll take ANYTHING to feel like they're contributing. they dont want to be the bystanders who have no real sway that they are, they want to be the heroes of the story, and if they dont at least have the scams to rely on for their image, how will everyone know how good of a person they are and praise them for saving the day???????????????

[rabbitmotifs]

i love my parents (at least one) but our house is completely unfit to live in

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent game related things .. hrmm...

[lucalicatteart]

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 6: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

The winning option of yesterday's poll was that the adventurer should ask the Innkeeper about the suspicious egg he got from the Well Creature….

-

After finishing his food scraps, he awkwardly creeps back over to the main counter, pulling up a stool and just hoping the Innkeeper will eventually make eye contact with him... She finally looks to the side whilst cleaning a glass, his chance to blurt out whatever he can.

"SO!- uh,, I um... I found something weird, or uh.. I didn't find it actually, I guess, I..... s-someone, or something.. gave it to me, as maybe..? a reward, or.. oh, well i-it doesn't matter why.. but UH, but so, I was just wondering, d-do you think you might know anything about it? about like, uh... stuff? Objects.. perhaps.....?"

She stares with equal parts amusement and concern, crossing her arms and letting out a soft chuckle, "Well, I've seen quite a variety of things while working here, so - Yeah, I could try to help you identify an item, if that's what you're asking."

"G-good. Okay. Well.. It's, uh..... this." He's barely even placed the little wooden egg box up on the counter before she's already slamming the lid shut and reaching over to force it back into his bag. Suddenly serious, her eyes dart around the room, scanning to ensure no-one else happened to notice.

"Don't EVER let anyone see you with that, okay??". Abrupt tone shift making him even more nervous, he just stares blankly, muttering a few gibberish noises whilst nodding at her in confirmation.

"I mean, I'm not absolutely certain," her voice lowers as she speaks, "but to me it looks exactly like a Caiploras egg. Those animals have been nearly extinct for at least a hundred years. Only tiny groups of them still exist here and there, and even those eventually get wiped out as soon as they're discovered. Kings and nobles used to hunt them, especially for the eggs, 'cause of all the theories - unique magical properties, uses in enchanting, shit like that.. I don't really know, I'm not that experienced with magic.... But.."

She pauses for a few seconds to stare him down (this does not soothe his anxiety at all), examining intently, as if to determine whether he's actually trustworthy before continuing..

"...My brother is. He's a mage, and a scholar, and he specializes in stuff like this, all these rare animals and whatnot. He'll hate me just sending a complete stranger over there, but.. I think you should go see him. He'd definitely be able to identify it- hell, he'd probably even pay you for it, if it really is what I think it is. And, he'd know how to take care of it properly, raise it well, not just cut it up for fucking potions or whatever...", she scoffs bitterly.

Grasping at a nearby napkin to fan himself with, he shifts sweatily in his seat, "W-wh... but,.. How would I do that?"

"What do you mean? Do what?"

"F-find, him.. IHhh... I just.. I don't, know the area well.. is all, I uh...."

"I'll give you directions, obviously.. Are you okay? Do you like... need some water? You look-"

"NHnnnou, I'M FINE! I just, haha.. uh... Maybe, am.. not very good at....uh.. this.." He gestures around himself nonspecifically.

With a brief confused glance, she pours a cup of water anyway, then casually plucks a small notebook from her pocket to begin scribbling messily. "Well, look, I'll give you the information, and if you feel up to it, you can go. I really think you should, but, eh... your choice, y'know."

As he fights his shaky hands to maintain control of the water glass, she lays out the paper on the table, pointing at parts of her sketch. "He's over in Fargahel, which should be a few days travel from here. See? The roads kind of go like this, but it's mostly a straight path. Look for the ruins of an abandoned castle. He's holed himself up in there, the underground part, repurposed into some sort of 'sanctuary' for rehabilitating injured birds or whatever the hell he's up to now. He probably won't attack you or anything, but I signed a little note on the back of this so he knows I sent you.. just in case."

Neatly folding up the map, she slides it towards him as she leans closer to intensely meet his eyes. "Just remember, no matter what you do, do NOT let anyone know you have that egg. There are plenty of folks out here still hunting for them. You don't want someone recognizing it and coming after you. Especially with how, uh...", it feels like she might mention he doesn't seem he'd be very good at combat, but she simply lets the sentence trail off, shrugging with a smile and politely patting his hand as he takes the paper.

"Just get some sleep, yeah? Think about it. And talk to me in the morning if you have any more questions."

He slumps over to lean on the counter, resting for a moment after she walks back to the other end of the room, just trying to wrap his head around all the new information.. He only took the egg because it looked pretty! He just wanted it to hatch into a cool chicken or something! Why does it have to actually be some big stinky scary secret rare item?... With a heavy sigh, he resolves to never again trust mysterious creatures that pop out of abandoned wells....

Eventually trudging up to his room for the night, he flops onto the lumpy mattress that seems to just be hay stuffed into dusty old potato sacks. As he rustles around waiting to fall asleep, he considers all of his options... What should he do with the egg?

[mechawolfie]

i get a therapist (HELL YEAH AWESOME, THIS IS GOOD !)

she tells me to apologize to my mom (HORRIBLE, I AM CONSIDERING MURDER)

[arolesbianism]

If I had the freedom of not knowing there is going to be future new lore stuff added to oni I would do unspeakable things to so many of these guys. Or Id just make them normal guys who just sorta exist. Either or.

[prlssprfctn]

Kinda obsessed with headcanon, where Damian and Jason just randomly (out of nowhere, completely unprompted) start to referring to their shared past in the League in the middle of the family conversations, while everyone just stare at them in concern

Like

Jason, staring at Dick, trying to put Tim's shoulder back: huh, do you remember that one time-

Damian, instantly: when grandfather's shoulder relocated by itself, but instead of properly putting in on its place, he killed himself and mother threw him in the Lazarus Pit?

Jason, cackling: it was hilarious

Damian, no less amused: right?

Bruce, sitting behind them: (concerned sips of tea)

Or, it is not necessarily funny, but it just cute (or sad) details, regarding each other that others are confused about.

Jason, who accidentally fell asleep in the Batcave: (instinctively cards through his hair as he naps)

Tim, teasing: ladies and gentlemen, the criminal lord of the year--

Damian: Drake, bluntly, that's not funny. Back when he was out of the Pit, this was the only thing that could help him to calm down.

Dick, knowing that this is because Bruce constantly stroked Robin!Jason's hair, when he saw nightmares, with eyes full of tears: oh

Jason on the random Friday night, trying to be less awkward about staying with Bruce in one room: actually, Damian's first word was my name

Bruce: really?

Jason: he had, uh, problems with saying his first word. People around him were constantly speaking on both language at the same time, and, I guess, he couldn't figure out what to say. Then, Ra's said that if his heir doesn't get his word in the next two weeks, he will throw him in the Lazarus Pit (as a joke), but I wasn't sure if it was a joke (Talia said later it was), and I panicked, and since Talia wasn't around, I just kept repeating him her name, or just word Mother, but he just, uh, wouldn't say anything - kept blinking and staring at me like a little idiot. And then on a random night, he just grabbed me by the hair, and said, Jason. Food. And he kinda spoke properly since then. Like in full sentences and stuff. I think he just didn't want to speak with us, actually--

Bruce, getting grey hair out of nowhere: RA'S SAID WHAT--

And sometimes they just speak in Arabic, and Damian keeps bullying Jason that his skills are getting rustier.

[today-i-am-thinking-about]

my awful camping experiences

[causenessus]

I HIT 30 TAGS AND SO NOW THAT LAST TAG SOUNDS SO SCARY AND SERIOUS I'M SORRY 😭😭😭 I WAS JUST ENDING MY TAGS WITH MORE SWEET STUFF AND HEARTS <333 THIS WAS SO GOOD RYE!!

the night shift — interlude 0.2

day 3 | masterlist | day 4

she tries not to think about that night.

it's all too clear in the back of her mind. the violence that creeped up on her tongue and shielded her from any pain that might have come her way, the stickiness of her sweat on her skin, the buzz of the (at the time) barely-working air-conditioning; it's too familiar to her. she does her best to encase it in a far, far corner, to make sure it never resurfaces, but on some days, it does.

the couch dips with kenma's weight beside her. his game is paused in the background, the soft hum of the music serving as the only noise in the house, save for kuroo's furious writing as he studies for his upcoming exam (he's finally decided to work on getting his doctorate, after sitting around for a year or two. kenma's funds are helpful, but they aren't limitless). when she looks at him, all she can hear is that night, all she can feel is that night, all she can see is that night.

almost like he haunts her with it.

he doesn't look at her. he doesn't need to. all it takes is him being there for her to be reminded of last summer; the turmoil and the struggles and the conflict.

("i don't need that kind of help," she yelled. "i don't fucking want that help. i'm not a baby." the words were hot on her tongue, searing her teeth and lips and gums. she stood in his living room, donning clothes that probably weren't hers and with an unclear conscience.)

she isn't sure if she's supposed to turn to him. her eyes latch onto the ground for any bit of stability. she can imagine the conversation now, she can almost predict the entirety of it in her head.

("then what? are you just going to wallow in grief until you can't sustain your own life anymore? is that the plan?" his words were pointed, all too accurate. he crossed his arms over his chest. she hated when he did that, his irritation overbearingly clear. "you aren't going to escape him if you don't do something to change. it's either i help you, or you help yourself in some way. figure it out.")

"how do you feel?"

"like shit," she laughs. it's half-hearted.

he shakes his head.

(just a few moments ago, she had stumbled upon their front door with one suitcase and a broken phone, the "missed call" notification imprinted onto her home screen. another buzz rung in her palm, and on instinct, her thumb sunk into the "decline" button. now, she stood in the middle of a foreign apartment, with a heavy heart and a heavy head.

she didn't want to rely on him, too scared of the possibility of dependency and the vulnerability that came with it. so, instead, she bites at his outstretched hand and turns away, to avoid any chance of being too reliant.)

"you can't let him continue to affect you like this," he starts. a blatant truth. "and, similarly, you can't keep turning back to him when things get rough and you need the safety of routine. stop relying on that net."

she doesn't respond.

(kenma was the first to answer her text, frantic and panicked and far from put-together, and he was the first to answer the door. he was the first to pick her up on the night of the first argument, and the first to offer her some semblance of support. but, all the same, he was the first to call her out on everything. that was his fatal flaw, in her eyes.)

he looks to her. she looks back, hesitantly. it's the same way it's always been since that night, no matter how hard she tries to run from it.

"promise me you'll work on it, this time?"

she smiles, and as he had hoped, it's warm and full of the essence of her. "sure."

ᡣ𐭩 another rye analysis bc im so in love with the night shift

ᡣ𐭩 the reason for yn and her ex breaking up with each other (probably?) won't be specified ever in this fic, but the vague idea is an inability to accept her as a flawed person. this is the driving force for this entire fic

ᡣ𐭩 this interlude is a weird, weird piece that alternates between the night yn moved in (the same night she broke up with her ex), and the current timeline, where she is still struggling to pick up the pieces and work on creating an actually sustainable life

ᡣ𐭩 kenma had offered to have her move in with them without much financial burden (in other words, he would cover most of the costs); yn did not take it well as u can see

ᡣ𐭩 same idea as kags and sho being so close in their own home but so distant because of a driving force that separates them

ᡣ𐭩 kuroo is working to get his phd in business in the current timeline bc he had stalled on it for too long and srsly flopped LOL. it's a small detail i wrote while planning and i wanted it to show up at least once

ᡣ𐭩 as i always say i hope this one made sense !!! sorry for procrastinating on this one for so long </3

taglist: @causenessus @strawberryurii @iiwaijime @savemebrazilhinata @tiramizuloz @conrad4life13 @wyrcan @zazathezaer @nperoconelcositoarriba @cupidsblonde @thechaosoflonging @diorzs @aozui @fefesooli