#knave writes

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

~all creatures great and small~ (amazing illustration by the awesome @david-talks-sw)

“And just what exactly is it that you’ve been doing?”

Obi-Wan had to stop himself from giving his fellow Councillor—and friend—a rather pronounced eyeroll. 

“You tell me,” he said without taking his eyes off his clamoring little herd, feeling rather proud of himself. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Mace came up to his side and crossed his arms, looking decidedly unimpressed. He looked at Obi-Wan, then at his rambunctious little friends and their merrymaking, then back at Obi-Wan again. 

“It looks like you have been avoiding meetings all morning.” 

Obi-Wan couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at his mouth. He carefully put his hands in his large sleeves.

“Have I?” He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop laughing if he saw Mace’s no doubt exasperated face, so he kept carefully looking onward. “You should have called me.”

“You know I did,” Mace griped, valiantly ignoring the racket and still boring holes in the side of Obi-Wan’s face.

If it came to a contest of wills, Obi-Wan knew he’d be hard pressed to match Mace’s stubbornness. He turned to face him, and inevitably let out a huffed chuckle. Mace looked annoyed alright, but he could do nothing about the twinkle in his deep eyes. 

“You,” Mace insisted, no doubt trying to maintain what he probably hoped to be a convincingly stern demeanor, “have spent all day corrupting our next generation instead of going over mission reports.”

“Really, Mace—”

A yellow blur careening between the two of them nearly knocked them off their feet. A beige, more bipedal one rushed right after it, bumping into them both with equal speed if not equal force. 

“Sorry Masters!” the youngling yelled over her shoulder without stopping. 

Obi-Wan had to cough into his fist to keep from cackling.

“Obi-Wan.” Mace said.

“She apologized,” Obi-Wan pointed out with a brilliant smile.

“You still haven’t.”

“What for?”

Mace’s control finally cracked, and he thrust an accusing finger at Obi-Wan’s innocent face, ready to give into a rare display of unrestrained aggravation. Obi-Wan quickly batted it away and beat him to the punch.

“It’s a perfectly good way of teaching the younglings patience and control!”

Mace blinked at him, his mouth left hanging open, his finger still up and now pointing somewhere over to the right. He turned slowly, and surveyed the bustling courtyard in bemusement. The half-dozen or so pufferpigs that Obi-Wan had let loose there were being corralled by three times as many eager younglings, clone cadets and Padawans, and the animals all felt entitled to express the full range of their feelings on the matter in a loud and enthusiastic fashion. Little Mari Amithest was still running after the particularly rowdy creature that had mistaken Obi-Wan and Mace for Rodian bowling pins. 

Mace’s eyebrows climbed to previously undiscovered heights. 

“What part of this,” he gestured incredulously, “is controlled?”

“None of the pigs have puffed yet,” Obi-Wan explained seriously. 

Mace’s eyebrows were now on their way into orbit. A moment passed. Then, his expression of astonishment seamlessly melted into curiosity.

“They haven’t?” he asked, considering the whole bunch with renewed interest. 

“I told you, it’s a proven method,” Obi-Wan insisted, vindicated. He pointed to the far corner of the courtyard, where Katooni was showing some of the younger children how to feed a happy looking unpuffed puffer. “My Padawan has taught that one to do tricks.”

The squealing puffer was hopping from one foot to the other before avidly sweeping treats from the children’s outstretched hands. 

Mace was now looking suitably impressed. More careful study of Mari’s chase was making it apparent that the animal she was after was not distressed in any way, but was—rather mischievously—trying to run off with her sash clutched in its stout trunk. 

“You shouldn’t let emotions cloud your perception,” Obi-Wan reminded him in a serious voice.

“Hm,” Mace conceded magnanimously, impervious to the teasing.

The twinkle of carefully contained amusement that had been present in his eyes from the start had won over all other sentiments. A wet snort had the two Masters look down at the adventurous pufferpig that had made its way over to them. The amicable beast was fixing them with soulful blue eyes, candidly inoffensive. Its stubby tail was wagging quite politely. Mace distractedly bent down to pet the expectant critter on its broad, squishy face.

“It wants to smell your lightsaber,” Obi-Wan warned. “They like crystals.”

Mace straightened and put a hand on his hilt.

“The Mining Guild didn’t pick them up yesterday?” he inquired. “That was on the agenda.”

Obi-Wan shrugged.

“They tried, but for some reason all the identity chips turned out to be unreadable. There’s no way to prove who these fellows belong to.”

Mace gave him a flat look. 

“Hondo stole them from a Republic transport.”

“There’s all sorts of things on Republic transports,” Obi-Wan reasonably pointed out.

“The transport was chartered by the Mining Guild.”

“Hondo wiped the manifest during his hijacking. There’s just no way to know.”

“Your Padawan was there to escort the Mining Guild representatives.”

“Some mysteries can never hope to be solved.”

The pufferpig had taken to bonking its head against their legs affectionately. Mace, bowing to the undeniable strength of Obi-Wan’s ironclad argumentation, very seriously gave the tenacious quadruped another pat.

“They’re not staying,” he reminded Obi-Wan firmly. 

“Obviously not,” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “The Temple would be a terrible environment for them.”

His friend narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 

“And you’re not making me spend my time finding them a place.”

“Honestly, Mace.” Obi-Wan gave the affable puffer a gentle shove, and it obediently trotted away to a nearby group of younglings and clone cadets who were already entertaining one of its siblings. Obi-Wan wiped his hands on his pants. “Naboo has very responsible educational farms.”

“Does it,” Mace said mildly. 

“Including a recently opened one in the Lake District.” 

Unashamedly petty enjoyment rang in the Force.

“Don’t come to me when Skywalker tries to send them back.”

“Who says I’ll pick up when he does?”

Obi-Wan loved Anakin, dearly. Still, he hadn’t yet quite forgiven his old Padawan for retiring—running away—before they could make him shoulder his share of the sacred responsibility of wrangling the Temple’s significantly increased youngling population. It was Luke and Leia’s birthday soon anyway. 

“You’re stooping to deviousness,” Mace said, carefully neutral.

Obi-Wan gave him a wry look. 

“Never. Revenge is not the Jedi way,” he said just as calmly. 

“It’s them you’re supposed to be teaching,” Mace said with a short nod towards the unruly bunch. “He’s had his turn.”

Speaking of teaching…

“Oh my,” Obi-Wan said smugly, pointing to a boy who had taken to carefully levitating a surprisingly compliant—if a little alarmed—pufferpig, “that wouldn’t happen to be Caleb, would it?”

His fellow Council member was now pinching the bridge of his nose, his other hand planted on his hip. 

“I must say, that young man is certainly very skilled at forming connections with animals. Depa must be very proud.”

“Just don’t,” Mace groaned. He whipped out his communicator. “He’s supposed to be meditating with Yoda right now.”

“That explains it,” Obi-Wan said. 

Master Yoda was slowly ambling into the courtyard, looking quite pleased with what he was seeing. He poked misbehaving younglings with his cane as he walked, chuckling to himself when they yelped and hastily reached with the Force to make sure the pufferpigs stayed relaxed. The pufferpigs themselves were only curious, and in a sufficiently playful mood that the younglings’ offended squeaking was not enough to agitate them. Caleb had set down his floating puffer with all possible speed—and great care—at the sight of the venerable elder, and made ample and readily accepted apologies to the perplexed animal in the form of scritches. 

Mace slowly put away his communicator. He pursed his lips. 

“Obi-Wan,” he said slowly, “next time, just have them practice making friends with the stray tookas.”

That’s how his master had done it, and Mace had never had any problems with connecting with animals, large and small. 

“Pufferpigs are much more even-tempered.”

It was all Mace could do not to facepalm. Giving up, he shot Obi-Wan one last dry look.

“Just do your damn paperwork.”

Obi-Wan watched him stride away, dignified and imposing. Of course, since he wasn’t exactly paying attention to his surroundings, with how focused he was on pretending he was above this whole situation, he didn’t notice Mari’s wayward puffer on a direct collision course with his legs. The poor creature, who hadn’t noticed Mace either, let out a terrified screech and promptly puffed. 

The entire courtyard froze, watching with fascination as the inflated pufferpig bounced twice and slowly rolled to a halt. It made a sorry little squeak.

Resignedly, Mace closed his eyes and set to work on gently calming down the pufferpig with the Force.

The children loudly cheered. 

[ruumirmir]

A Fatuu's Floriography - What does nature's flora have to say about them? Part 1 of Flowers for the Harbingers series .༊·˚

Flowers for the Knave

Buds that bloom under the Crimson Bale Moon

Arlecchino's calm demeanour hides a mind sharper than the sharpest of pins. Like the delicate patterns of lace, her thoughts fall into place with a flawless precision.

Beneath her calm and collected exterior, however, exists a dangerous side, as Arlecchino will not hesitate to resort to all means necessary to achieve her goals—

‘Sappho’ Rhododendron, the flower symbolizing caution and danger. It speaks of riches and prosperity and of kissing your convictions with the energy of unwavering belief and faith.

You could not let go of the disquiet easily at first. Amidst tender moments, The Knave often found your heartbeat fleeting and fast, like a skittish jackrabbit tailed by a wolf. And she kept her distance from you on the chance assumption of unease; for a good while at least. You noticed of course, after the fifth instance of subtly failing to end up in her arms. It was hard, first and foremost, to still your beating heart in the presence of The Knave, all sharp and cold despite the steadfast blaze of a hearth within. And it was harder still around Peruere, the soft glow of an ember wrapped around your finger. "Do I make you nervous?" She had asked, gaze burning through your hands that shook slightly while pinning the stem of a Rhododendron on her winter coat; right over her breast. Urgent duty calls, but never urgent enough to refuse a harmless request from you. Dawn hadn't seeped into the sky yet. Maybe you were cold. Maybe you were unnerved by her. It hadn't been too long and Arlecchino hadn't brought the same warmth of Peruere outside of closed doors yet. You weren't sure what you felt. It wasn't fear. Never that. She burned far too bright to let any shadowed thoughts come near you. "No." "You just make me feel too much." Her lips betrayed a whispered gasp; tensing under the sudden energy of your kiss for a moment before reciprocating. The frigid air confined in your bedroom felt just a tad bit warmer, comfortable enough to fall back asleep in her absence. You were given a rare, wider curve to Arlecchino's usual smile. Her cupped palm slipped from your jaw, trailing down and down, a dangerous path of shivers in it's wake till it rested above the part of you that felt too much. "Mmmh," She felt the rhythm mirroring hers. Maybe your little rabbit was more excitable than skittish, for it was joined by another hare. Maybe the wolf was just the hare's clothing, shed long ago with caution to the wind. "I can tell."

‘Penny Black’ Baby Blue Eyes, addresses qualities of tender sensitivity, innocence and trust associated with one's early childhood relationship to the father, or other significant masculine figures that are in some way... disturbed.

"Father! Why didn't you tell us they'd be visiting?" The protest was accompanied by several others from pouty lips of the littlest children. You, for the most part, were swamped by a chorus of bright-eyed kids and teens extending their hands to you for the chocolates you brought. "Yeah, Father," The title slid off your tongue easily. Archons above, how well it suited her. "-think of the children. They could've known to eat a lighter lunch to accommodate space for the ungodly amount of candies I've bought." A few of them laughed alongside you, wrappers crunching emptily already. Arlecchino was shaking her head with a sigh. If she had any qualms to being called Father by you, she didn't show it. The first child who had piped up with that comment looked up to see The Knave's hand patting his head. "With the ungodly amount of confectionaries my children consume from your generous visits... I might have to issue a new rule to restrict such gifts—" Her expression was a serious deadpan, fooling most, but you could pick up the humor it in. Hopefully you weren't imagining it. "After thinking of their health, of course." The outcry took a couple minutes to subdue. The atmosphere, tense as it got under Arlecchino's glare to hush the children, was tender as can be on a lazy Saturday afternoon. "I hope you've all given them ample gratitude for the chocolates." The chorus of 'Thank yous' was immediate upon Arlecchino's dismissal, finally ushering you further inside the orphanage towards her office upstairs. The bag of lunch you had brought to share with her already lukewarm in your hands. Today, perhaps, was the final piece of the puzzle, completing the picture painted to you from the previous handful of visits to the orphanage. You took a moment to smell the wafting aroma of Penny Blacks decorating the crudely made pots, hung off colorful ropes right over her door while she unlocked it. You chuckled when you caught the messy handwriting of names under each pot. Arlecchino held the door open you. A hundred men may die at her hands, but not chivalry. "Unfeeling as you say you are..." You mumbled, glued close enough to her side to hear. Arlecchino cast you a sidelong glance, fingers deftly unpacking the lunchboxes. "The children trust you more than anything." "Which... actually brings me to something I'm curious about." You quickly began, trampling down the hesitance. You hadn't actually brought it up before, wary of digging up unsavory memories. A positive hum from her urged you to continue. You'd both have plenty of time to talk over the humble sandwiches you made. "What was the previous Knave like?"

'Black Spider’ Asiatic Lily, typically symbolize wealth and prosperity, but it can be a powerful symbol of the spirit of a loved one that offers hope and encouragement to someone grieving the loss.

'Royal Wedding’ Oriental Poppy, represent consolation, remembrance and death. The color white on this flower spins the tale of victims fallen to the whims of war and conflict.

[shalomniscient]

bring me the sun || arlecchino x reader

You are her sun and she is your moon, and she holds only the stars as witness to the way she loves you to the edges of the heavens and back.

cw: maybe ooc arle? was trying to hit that childhood friends to lovers angle but might have missed the mark. other than that, none !

wc: 1.6k

There are three things the inhabitants of the Hotel know about Father: her orders are absolute, her power is unquestionable, and that you are her utmost and only beloved.

Your visits to the Hotel were always highly anticipated—perhaps even more so than Father’s, at times. You traveled the world in your service of Arlecchino, and by extension the Tsaritsa, which also meant that every time you returned to the Hotel you brought new, exotic sweets along with you. The children clamored around you, tugging on your hands and the silks of your dress, all vying for your attention. You always smiled at the kids, rather than push them away like one would have expected a Fatuus to do—the cadence of your voice light as you entertained the excited children, warm and almost motherly. A bright morning sun in the gray winter. But an icy voice always smothered that warm moment like snow falling into a flame.

“That’s enough. Do you all not have other things to do?”

Father hardly ever left her office upon the arrival of guests—but you, always you, were the only exception. The other children scurried off immediately, unwilling to draw Father’s ire, but one child was a little too slow and hid behind your skirts, frozen in place as he watched Father descend the grand stairs. She moved slowly, a wolf to a lamb, her boots clicking like claws on the cold tile. That was the sort of presence Father commanded—frigid and loveless and distant like the moon. A light in the darkness, to be sure, but one would find no warmth in the Knave.

But then, you smile, a soft thing that bloomed across your equally soft features, the sun emerging from behind grey clouds. Achingly fond. The Knave’s coldness swept up and over you and right out the door as you beam, unbothered by the chill, and drop into a polite curtsey.

“My Lord,” you say, and the children watching from the wings swear they see Father’s lip twitch. But then her gaze passes over you to burn holes into the boy behind you, who quivers under the intensity of it.

“Have you forgotten your assigned duties for today, boy?” she asks, and the boy flinches ever so slightly. “Surely there are more pressing matters for you to attend to, rather than accost our guests?”

“Rest assured, I was not accosted, my Lord,” you interject quietly, placatingly, before the Harbinger could go any further. “I promised to bring sweets, last I was here. He was simply waiting for his share.”

Some would find your bravery admirable yet foolish. But the children know their Father better.

The rigid line of her shoulders relaxes ever so slightly, and she watches you with the calmness of first snow. No icy barb or frosty remark is hurtled your way—instead, the whirling blizzard that is the Knave quiets, as if subdued by you and you alone.

“Make haste, then,” is all she says, and you offer another sweet smile, pulling a few wrapped candies from your pocket and handing them to the boy. He kisses your hand in gratitude before scampering off, eager to escape from Father’s piercing gaze. Once he is gone, disappearing into the winding hallways of the Hotel, your expression falls into a frown, but the twinkle of mirth in your eyes is difficult to hide.

“Has anyone informed you how terribly mean you are, my Lord?” you tease, though your words and posture do not match the joviality of your tone. From afar, one would assume that this was simply another conversation between a superior and a servant. As if the words exchanged were for no one other than you and the Knave.

“No,” the Knave says, frigid as ever. “None have dared.”

“Then perhaps it is a blessing that I have returned,” you joke, and anyone could see the way Father’s entire body bleeds the tension it normally carries, as if you were drawing it out of her with each light word. As if your presence was a balm to her soul. As if to say, always. Father doesn’t deign your teasing with a response, but she may as well have.

“Let us talk more in my office,” she says. A blackened hand rises to rest on the small of your back, a gentle urge that you do not reject. It is such a far cry from the violence they could inflict, the devastation they could deal. “I have a pot of rose tea prepared.”

“Ah, my favourite! You remembered.”

“Of course,” the Knave says quietly, as if it were a universal fact, as if the idea of her forgetting was absurd and incomprehensible. Your gaze is kept forward, admiring the new paintings of sunrises and sunsets that line the walls as you both ascend the stairs, so you do not see it but the children do. They see the way Father’s eyes soften so imperceptibly in a way most didn’t think was possible for her. They see the way her features smoothen out, her typical sneer of cold condescenscion melting into not a smile, but something so close to fond.

When you both disappear behind the heavy doors of the Knave’s office, the children can’t help but wonder—do you know, that you held a Harbinger’s heart in your hands?

“You spoil them far too much,” Arlecchino says as the doors shut. The hand on your back has not left, but you do not want it to anyway. She guides you to sit on an opulent couch, the cushions the same blood red as Arlecchino’s cross-shaped pupils. On the coffee table is a familiar old teapot, the aroma of sugar and roses wafting from the spout.

“Perhaps you spoil them far too little,” you counter, watching as she poured you a cup of golden tea, those dark hands stark against the pale porcelain.

“They are children of the snow,” Arlecchino rebuts, placing your cup on a saucer. Her hands are steady. “They do not need to be spoiled.”

“And yet, they are still children,” you murmur, bringing the cup to your lips for a sip. The tea tastes sweet, with distinct floral notes—just the same as it tastes every other time you visit. She has your tastes down to a science. Over the rim of your cup you see Arlecchino’s expression twist before it mellows out, and she sighs quietly. She knows where your softness comes from. You, too, were both children once, even if it was difficult to remember ever being allowed to simply be a child. You both grew up far too quickly and far too cruelly—the only constant and comfort you could find was in each other. A truth that remains even now, years into the future.

“Your heart is too warm, mon soleil.”

You set your teacup down, a teasing grin pulling at your lips. “And perhaps yours is too cold, ma lune.”

Arlecchino simply hums. She indulges in your fun where she would have eviscerated anyone else. Instead, dark hands curl in the folds of your dress and with a light tug she has you straddling her lean thighs as her head lies on the couch’s cusions, neck craned upward to look lazily up at you. The pale column of her neck is exposed like this, and you stifle the urge to press your lips against it. Her hands find home on your hips, like they’ve done countless of times before.

“If that’s the case,” she whispers, low and temptous as one hand takes yours to press below her left breast, right above her heart, “won’t you help warm it up again, mon soleil?”

You lean down, cupping her face in your free hand. Dual toned hair falls into her dark eyes, a delightfully messy sight you so dearly missed. Your lips ghost over her own, and you laugh breathily as Arlecchino twitches forward ever so slightly, her eagerness rather cute—though you suspect she would sooner die rather than admit to being anything other than terrifying, least of all cute.

“As my Lord commands,” you croon, and you finally, finally kiss her. She all but melts beneath you, greedily chasing your kiss and the sweetness of roses. She normally loathes sweet things, but perhaps she could make an exception if she drank it directly from your lips. She kisses you as if she might lose you at any moment, slowly savouring all of you. Her blackened hands start to feel warm again, the heat of your body under her touch radiating through her own and making her feel the most alive since you left.

You are her sun. The source of her light, the centre of her universe. You remind her what it is like to be warm, when the chill of those faraway snowfields cut into her skin and bite deep into her bones. Sunshine lies just beneath your skin and Arlecchino craves it, needs it like a thorny rose to the light. It is only with you that she can be more than Arlecchino, more than the conniving Knave who lurks in the shadows. It is only with you, behind these closed doors in the comfort of her own space can she be just your lover, and be loved in turn, away from the prying eyes of the outside world.

You are her sun and she is your moon, and she holds only the stars as witness to the way she loves you to the edges of the heavens and back.

She wonders if you know this—if you can feel it in the way her lips move against yours. It is a silly thought, because when Arlecchino feels you smile into the kiss she knows you know.

[scrion7]

oh no i made cleruere more angsty

So, Clervie was killed by Peruere because Crucabena wanted Peruere to become 'King' of the house, and Peruere wasn't really motivated to do that. But what if I made it worse?

During that scene when Clervie was patching herself up, Peruere implies that Crucabena was the one who did that to her. Knowing that, and considering Clervie's kindness, she'd want to do something about it. The best way to stop Crucabena would be to win the Toddler Battle Royale and become the next Knave, but Clervie is not really shown to be much of a fighter, and she probably knew that. On the other hand, Peruere definitely is. Therefore, Peruere should become the next Knave to stop the child abuse.

Problem, Peruere doesn't want to be the next Knave. Bigger problem, to be King, Peruere has to defeat all the other children, and there is no way Peruere would seriously fight Clervie.

QED, the best (ok not really best but certainly most angsty) way for Clervie to solve all of these problems is, clearly, impale herself on her best friend's sword, imply Crucabena was responsible for her actions to motivate Peruere, and then take herself out of the running for King by dying.

You know, normal things you do for your best friend.

Of course, Peruere would probably disagree, but Clervie's doing this for the rest of the house! Saving the world by sacrificing yourself is probably fine, she'd understand.

"The world means nothing to me without you!" -Peruere, probably

...yes, I've been listening to Honkai World Diva recently, what of it?

[incorrectfatui]

Dottore: You know what would be sexy?

Dottore: Eating food off of each other.

Crucabena:

Crucabena: …You did not do the dishes.

Dottore: I did not. 

[nocherrybombs]

Veterans of the Meme War

Arlecchino, scythe in hand: Disobedient children must face the consequences of their actions. Come, Lyney, Lynette, Freminet; we will settle this on the battlefield.

Lyney: Well lads, it's been a pleasure serving with you, but it looks like this is the end of the line. We fucked around, and now we're going to find out.

Lynette: No items, Fox only, Final Destination.

Lyney: And no airbag. We die like men.

Freminet: I did always say I was here for a good time, not a long time.

Lynette: Frfr. Hashtag relatable, hashtag YOLO.

Arlecchino, slowly lowering scythe: W-what does any of that mean?! Are you... is this rebellious behavior some kind of cry for help? Should I be worried about you three?

Lyney: It's okay, 'Father', the only thing you need to worry about is the mind goblin.

Arlecchino: And what, pray tell, is a mind goblin?!?

Lynette: LMAO, gottem.

Lyney: Mind gobblin' deez nuts! Attack!!!

Lynette, launching herself across the battlefield: Yeet!

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒘𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅

chapter I of and her heart is a bird on a spit in her chest

Pairing: Teenage!Arlecchino x gn!Teenage!Reader

Genres: politics & law, angst (mostly light)

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: corrupted legal system and government, mentions and discussions of said corruption, brief violence, brief mentions of blood, murder, and death; me trying to replicate how a trial would work if the circumstances are insane

| 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | epilogue

~~~

The damp and murky streets of downtown Brume de Lys left dark trails of water along your bare feet. The fog cast throughout the city hindered your sight as you ran, occasionally bumping into towering figures traveling home from work. The stained light blue blanket lying along the creases of your elbows was slowly becoming looser. Shouts and the heavy thumping of boots echoed from behind you as the sound of your racing blood filled your ears. Adrenaline coursed through you, and your body was shaking with stress and exhaustion.

As you sharply rounded a corner, you were met with the hands of your older brother grasping your forearms.

“Are you alright? What’s on your shirt?”

You brought your hands up to your eyes, much too frantic and panicked to respond. It was not needed, however, as the night patrol officers quickly caught up with you.

“Step away from the offender, sir!” one ordered.

Your brother looked at the man with his ever-persistent defiance, doing his best to appear intimidating in the face of danger.

“What have they done?”

“That is between us and the law.” the other spoke.

“If you cannot give me a reason to leave my sibling, I will not.”

The patrol looked at each other before one sighed and said, “If you will not obey, you will be punished as well.”

Your brother stared down the guards, his hands beginning to shake around your elbows. Time seemed to slow as a bullet of violet electricity flew into his leg, just barely scraping along the end of your blanket. His grip on you loosened as he fell spasming to the ground. The patrolmen raced toward you both, one roughly grabbing your upper arm and causing your blanket to fall onto the cobblestone sidewalk. The other turned your brother around and placed silver cuffs around his wrists. The civilians around you continued walking by even as you were both placed into the black vehicle of the third arriving officer. This was not an uncommon occurrence for them – every day people would be dragged either to prison or court whether they were innocent or guilty.

Every person in the nation of Fontaine would face judgment day, and every person would accept that system whether they liked it or not.

—

Half an hour later, a young woman walked down the same street. A wicker basket of fruit hung from her right arm, paired with two loaves of bread. The slightly tattered clothes she wore blew around in the wind and her braided white hair began coming loose. The business of the streets was dwindling from when she first arrived at the market. The church bells began to toll as she noticed a darkened blue blanket lying in a puddle of black. It reminded her of her own waiting for her in a vast collective bedroom not far from here now, kept in a place she dreaded to return to.

A few coins remained in her pocket, jostling with each step she took. She had debated handing them back to the director, but instead, she decided that she would keep them hidden in the bread bag in her mattress. A simple excuse that the shopkeep had raised his prices would be enough to dwell the director’s suspicion.

A pattern of frayed black on the stone walkway caught her attention. The familiar feeling of bitterness grew in her heart again as she looked down at what was becoming the symbol of her city. It was no secret that Brume de Lys was becoming a display of corruption, at fifteen the girl could understand it better than ever before. The people of Fontaine were simply entertainment for their archon, and being ruled by such a tyrant ignited a mutinous flame in her. One day she would escape, not only the nation but the dismal environment of her orphanage.

—

 The steady sound of rain echoed through your cell from the small barred window in the corner. It was freezing in the dreary room, and you had no reprieve from the unbearable chill. No blanket was on the hard old bed, and you were alone. When you arrived at the jail the previous night you were separated from your brother. He was twenty and five years older than you. They sent him to a different location, and he likely wouldn’t even receive a trial. The officer's testimonies would be all the court needed to charge him.

A key unlocking your cell drew your view from the grey clouds outside to the blue-coated monochrome of the bailiff’s uniform. Her white hair was slicked into a bun with two cerulean strands flowing from it. She said nothing as she motioned you out of the cell and stood to your side. A small show of respect in the face of contempt. She guided you through the vaguely familiar winding underground of the court. The structure for residencies of law closely resembled the law itself – maddening, tricky, and intricate.

Large doors of mahogany lined in gold and officers stood before the courtroom. The bailiff looked apologetic as she placed cuffs around your wrists and grabbed you by the arm. If the officers cared about her actions, they did not show it as they opened the tall doors. 

Your eyes widened at the display before you.

There were no spectators. No jury. No attorneys. Just a madwoman and her chief justice highlighted on a dais. 

No one else would be in this room.

The archon’s eyes glimmered with delight as she sat with a light smile on her face. The chief justice’s face sat stoic, and regret and guilt sat heavily behind his eyes. Every step you took fell deaf behind the bailiff’s boots hitting the wood floor. She guided you to a small wooden seating area before the dais, as she moved to stand beneath the justice and to his right.

“__ __, correct?”

You looked at the chief justice. “Yes, Your Honor.”

He hummed briefly. “Please state your case.”

The only knowledge you had of a trial was from your father’s five years ago. Nonetheless, you stood up and shared what happened the previous night.

“On the previous evening, I entered the butcher’s shop at the local market. When I left twenty minutes later, I was being chased by patrolmen. I wanted to purchase meat for my brother to cook for dinner, and now I am allegedly a criminal. I was raised in what is seen as the dregs of the city, but that does not make me inherently transgressive. I did well in school until I could no longer attend. When my brother and I lost our parents in the same week, we grieved, but we worked hard to provide for ourselves. The money we made almost always went toward food and shelter. The night I went into the butcher’s shop I was looking to purchase a cut of sirloin to share with my brother. I waited for ten minutes before I was serviced. I happened to spill a bit of the blood from the wrapped raw steak onto my shirt as I walked out since another customer bumped into me. When I exit the building there was a person lodged against the side of the building holding their side and quietly groaning in pain. I placed my steak down and quickly came to help them. I tried to shake them, but by that point they were unresponsive. Before I knew it the patrolmen had spotted the blood on my shirt and the blood on the body and thought I murdered them. I may be many things but a murderer is not one of them. I simply wanted to provide me and my brother with a nice dinner, and now I’m in court over a misunderstanding. Please, Your Honor and Your Majesty, deliver an understanding verdict.”

Silence overtook the room once more as you sat down.

“Wow, Mx. __, that was truly fantastic!” the archon cheered as she lightly clapped. “I have seen many trials today, but this is by far one of my favorites! The way you spin it is a wonder.”

Your brows furrowed before the chief justice spoke, “Thank you, Mx. __. Please give us time to deliberate.”

Confusion and creeping fear filled you as the justice and archon left to the chamber behind them. The bailiff did not speak or move even upon their return a surprising ten minutes later.

“We have reached a verdict.” the justice voiced.

“Not guilty!” the archon cheered.

Relief was evident on your face, but she quickly picked up on it.

“However…” she started, as the justice side-eyed her curiously.

“Since your brother is sentenced to twenty-five years at the prison’s factory, you’ll be all alone. So, we’ve decided to send you to Orphelinat de la Fleuve Sinueux!”

Dread filled you upon hearing your brother’s sentence. He would be wasting away in the product of industrialization that is slowly deteriorating the nation. The people were paying the price for the deceit of living a higher life with better technology and instead of doing anything about it, those in power like the two in front of you left them to solve everything.

Indignation shone in your gaze as the justice closed his eyes. “You will be sent there promptly at noon today. The bailiff will escort you to your home and the orphanage in the meantime. You are dismissed.”

[lunior-art]

The Knave and His Spade

they just do something to my brain chemistry i can’t explain it they might just be my 13th reason

@necessarymeanstoanend your like minds art is genuinely so good i could not compare

progress pic! yipee

(i’ve also never produced art in such speed before im scared)

[rinswritez]

♡ "Our Sweet Underling" Chapter 8: Sweet Kisses ♡

After that night your worries were unimaginable! How could you have kissed Arlecchino like that? More importantly… Why didn't she push you away?! When you joined the Fatui you never expected to have your higher ups letting you kiss them! It felt too good to be true! First it was Scaramouche– which arguably is the least lovey-dovey thing you've done compared to your other heated encounters– then it was Dottore, now it was Childe and Arlecchino. Worse of all is that she had a girlfriend, who you wouldn't doubt if she found out, she'd have your head! 

You nervously paced around your room, every so often adjusting your uniform. However no matter how hard you tried, you looked unkempt and tired. No amount of makeup– that was borrowed from Columbina, hence why you didn't want to use too much– would fix it. Yet you had to do this, you didn't join the Fatui to slack and make out with hot people! Although the second half didn't sound half bad, you did have your priorities straight. 

Your dad and your siblings were back home, they needed your help. Financially, it was very difficult for them. Despite your father being born and raised in Snezhnaya, his income was never that great. He grew up to become a traveling merchant, gaining knowledge from all the different places of Teyvat. He'd tell you stories about them and you'd listen intently. You've always loved his stories regarding Liyue and Mondstadt especially! He'd often experiment with recipes and try his best to make them as great as they could be for you and your siblings. Although, while you lived with him, you and him agreed that the kitchen is a dangerous place. Too dangerous for him, since he was easily distracted. He’d always end up looking at the recipe book for too long, afraid of making the food wrong, yet in the end he’d nearly burn the whole kitchen. Since those incidents were common in the household, you decided to take over kitchen duty. He'd always been a quiet and humble man, with a simple job.

Therefore his shock was unimaginable when he heard you wanted to join the Fatui. Although he was all about you having your opportunities in living your best life, he couldn't bear having you live such a dangerous life. As a traveling merchant, he knew first hand the dangers of Teyvat. Thieves, hillichurls, slimes and more were bound to attack you. Not to mention you’d be joining one of the most dangerous organizations, as soon as you’d join, you were bound to make enemies of people. As much as the two of you joked and bickered with each other, you and him both knew that he'd miss you. Your siblings had a similar reaction, although the youngest ones didn't quite understand. 

You had to do it. You couldn't put them through all that stress just to leave the Fatui at a minor inconvenience! And more importantly…even if you did leave, what would you say?

‘Oh sorry dad, I may or may not have kissed and slept with multiple of my higher ups while knowing that one of them had a partner. I decided that being a coward was better than telling the truth so I ran back to you like a bullied child!’

You physically recoiled at the thought of saying something like that. Your poor dad would have a heart attack! Before you could think anymore you stopped pacing right in front of the door of your room. Your heart rate increased rapidly as you opened it, and without the confident facade you usually had, you headed straight into the training grounds. 

As you walked through the icy halls, an intense feeling of nausea bubbled in your stomach. You mumbled some curses and prayers to the Tsaritsa. How else would you manage today after all? 

You were so focused on your thoughts, so utterly confused that you nearly bumped into the door of the training grounds. A strong pair of arms stopped you by grabbing you by the shoulders before you could get hurt.

“Oh, it’s you,” they said, their tone having its usual sass and snarky attitude. You instantly recognised it, your head snapped towards them and you were correct. It was Scaramouche. 

You blinked a few times before slowly turning around. You felt sort of of nervous about seeing him again. After your previous encounters, and his endless complaints about wanting to train you according to Arlecchino, you were a bit worried that you'd hurt him.

“Hey.”

“Do you have a thing for doors? You keep walking into them like an idiot.” 

You should’ve expected that.

“Oh I’m sorry, all mighty knight in shining armor of mine! I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience!” 

He rolled his eyes and leaned closer to you, his eyes watching your every move. “One thing I didn't miss about you is your attitude. It sure as hell hasn’t changed.”

“All I heard is that you missed everything else about me!” You smiled proudly and put your hands on your hips, standing tall.

“Good grief you're such a pain…”

You rolled your eyes, a cheeky smile playing on your lips. “Did you already forget how good I could make you feel?” 

He mumbled a quiet curse under his breath. “You won't let that go will you?”

“Nope, sir. I won't. But can you blame me? You really are quite the catch! And-” a cough was heard from behind you and Scaramouche. 

You glanced towards the direction that the noise came from and saw Arlecchino, Columbina and Childe. The one who coughed was Arlecchino, who looked displeased with your exchange with Scaramouche. Childe, sweatdropped and waved at you, a forced smile on his face. A grin that would soon drop as he noticed Scaramouche next to you. Only Columbina seemed calm, her eyebrows furrowed and lips slightly parted, yet she wouldn't speak.

“Oh hi! Why are you guys here? I mean it's a bit early for training isn't it?” 

Arlecchino shook her head.

“I'm afraid not, at least not for Harbingers. But what are you doing here with…” her eyes narrowed before she continued, “...with the likes of him?” 

You blinked. Columbina smiled at you nervously as Childe averted his gaze and Scaramouche scoffed.

“Really? What a low blow. Even for you-” 

You threw Scaramouche over your shoulder, your hand resting on his lower back as you opened the door of the training quarters. The three Harbingers stared at you in utter shock and confusion, on normal occasions Scaramouche would have strangled anyone who manhandled him in such a way. But in your case he just muttered a few complaints. 

You softly placed him down and he shook his head and called you a bunch of names, you decided to mess with him a bit.

“Dumbass, getting flustered over something so stupid.”

“All this talk of my ass. Have you got no self restraint?”

“When it comes to you? Absolutely not!” you replied with a chuckle as Scaramouche rolled his eyes once again, his cheeks lightly flushed. 

The other three Harbingers stood still as statues in the doorway. You turned around to face them while Scaramouche was already beating the remaining life out of a training dummy. “Aren’t you coming?” 

Childe was the first to step forward, his eyes shining with the familiar thrill of a battle. Despite being timid as a kid, Childe always loved fights, be it snowball fights. He’s always had quicker reflexes than you, and you adored spending time with him even if you lost the aforementioned snowball fights. He'd make a task that you disliked, somehow appeal to you. You could never tell if it was just because of his company or because of his ability to make almost everything seem fun, yet you weren't complaining. You smiled at him, as if he had just handed you the stars themselves - knowing him, he probably would if he could - and reached for your weapons.

“You wanna spar with me?”

“You could tell?” Childe questioned, tilting his head to the side like a confused puppy

“The look in your eyes says it all, sunshine!” you playfully wink at him, a cheeky grin forming on your lips.

“I'd like to see how they fair with multiple opponents,” Arlecchino mumbled, deep in thought.

“I'd like to spar with them as well,” Columbina spoke up, her soft voice echoing in the training chamber. 

Scaramouche turned to them, an annoyed groan escaping his lips.

“Do you seriously think they can handle that many opponents? They can't even take out one of us as is.”

“There's bound to be situations where they'll fight more than one person at once. The sooner they learn to defend themselves the better,” Arlecchino responds with a determined nod.

“I know how to defend myself!” you mumbled, crossing your arms and grumbling under your breath. 

Scaramouche shook his head, mildly annoyed by your declaration. “Sure, whatever makes you sleep better at night, underling.” 

You stick your tongue out at him. 

“Whatever makes you sleep better at night!” You mock in an exaggerated voice, and then stick your nose up in the air and twist your heel, strutting towards Arlecchino and Columbina. 

You could hear Scaramouche going on about how his voice doesn’t sound like that. Columbina pulls you in for a soft hug as soon as you walk close enough and whispers in your ear;

“I wish you knew how much I missed that one night. No words can describe how safe you made both me and Arlecchino feel, thank you” You feel her embrace tighten for a brief second before pulling away, her pale cheeks covered with a rosy hue. You feel your own face flush at the thought of the night you showered with them. You smiled at her and turned to Arlecchino.

“Do you really believe I’m strong enough to spar with all of you?” You tilted your head to the side, eyes glimmering with a light similar to the one of the sea during sunrise. 

Arlecchino gazed at you, her own eyes shining with that familiar glint that left you mesmerized, one of the reasons you loved her eyes so much. Slowly, her hand made its way to your soft hair, ruffling it. You closed your eyes and let out a content sigh. Arlecchino remained silent, observing you. 

Columbina swore she could hear both your heartbeats in that moment. A soft smile tugged at her lips, yet it wasn’t the usual hollow one. She genuinely smiled. Soon, her soft laughter filled the room. With child-like enthusiasm she pulled both you and Arlecchino into her embrace. Her giggles became contagious, you started laughing too as you intertwined your fingers with her. You were unsure as to why you were laughing, but it just felt like a natural reaction. Arlecchino seemed to think the same, she let out a soft snicker under her breath, which left both you and Columbina floating up to Cloud Nine.

You took their hands in yours and smiled. 

Arlecchino stiffened, her body freezing from the shock. Soon, she caressed your hand, her clawed fingers holding yours, but only for a split second. Her cheeks were a tinted red color, similar to her lipstick, yet less vibrant. Columbina on the other hand, held your hands near her heart almost instantly. 

As she did so, she swore your cheeks flushed. Your heartbeat was never steady around the Harbingers, she noticed. She’d assumed it was because of your immense respect but holding you like this made her realize that it was something else. Something more… intimate. She felt her own heart skip a beat at the thought. As her and Arlecchino pulled away, she felt a smile tug at her lips. 

You cared for her, her girlfriend and the other Harbingers. Did you love them? What did you think of each of them? She felt as though she met Arlecchino for the second time, her soulmate. Except now, there were two… Two soulmates. Two people care for her, love her and respect her. She stood next to Arlecchino and held her hand. 

Your voice broke the comfortable silence you three were in.

“Columbina, I have something I want to tell you.” You lean closer and explain everything to her, whispering so that Childe and Scaramouche wouldn’t hear. How Childe and Arlecchino fought, how you took care of them and how you kissed them. Instead of the upset reaction you expected, she just laughed.

“I know, dear. Arlecchino told me, I’m not upset with you. That does mean you owe me a kiss too. I mean you did kiss my girlfriend, did you not?” 

You felt heat rise to your face, but it was like your body was moving on its own. You leaned closer to Columbina, your lips meeting for the first time. She tasted like peaches, contradicting the more sour taste of her girlfriend’s lips. However, Arlecchino’s taste got sweeter when you kissed her. The more you thought of it, the more it made sense, two sweet women, one that was forced to toughen up to protect herself and her emotions, and another one who was forced to become more kind hearted in order to lure people in. Fatui work changed people in many different aspects. That’s just what it did to these two women, yet it changed them in the most contradicting ways. Still, you were proud of the people they’ve become today, or maybe it was your rose-tinted glasses that changed your point of view.

Your eyes traveled across the room to Scaramouche and Childe, on opposite sides of the room from each other, Scaramouche was still electrocuting that poor training dummy using his delusion as a way to vent his frustrations of being left out once again. Or… punch his frustrations away. As for Childe, he was creating mini whales with his hydro vision out of boredom. 

You smiled at the two men as you skipped towards them, humming a Snezhnayan tune. You decided to talk to Childe first. As soon as he noticed you he pulled you into a warm hug, his face buried into your shoulder. You started playing with his ginger locks, they were surprisingly soft and fluffy to the touch. You felt your heart flutter as he reached up to caress your face, his blue eyes analyzing your expression before pulling away.

“You’re such a tease, Ajax,” you mumble, face slightly flushed. You flick his forehead and pull away from the hug.

“Ouch, you’re so cold!” He dramatically poses as if he got shot in the heart and you lean closer to him again, kissing the spot on his forehead you flicked.

“Better?” 

He nods, his whole face lighting up. “Much better.” 

He pulls you in for another hug and you smile and hug him back.

“I missed this,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

You missed his hugs, you missed his touch, his smile, his laugh. You missed him, and you hadn’t even realized how much you had until now. You loved him. You’d love him until your heart stopped beating, you’d love him until Teyvat faltered. You’d love him with your whole heart, you weren’t going to lose him again. 

Yet it felt as though you were betraying him by loving the other Harbingers. You were confident you were his soulmate, but you also knew better than anyone that you were the other Harbingers’ soulmate too. His soft voice grounds you, reminding you that you were here now, there was no need to dwell on the what if’s yet. 

“I missed this too, Solnyshko,” he responded, his eyes glimmering the same way they did when you were kids, full of hope and excitement as to what’s to come. They soon fluttered shut as he rested his head on your shoulder.

“Your eyes are beautiful Ajax,” you muttered, in response he lazily opened one eye to look at you.

“When did you become so cheesy?” he teased, a grin playing on his lips.

“Oh shut up! It’s true.” 

Your eyes unconsciously traveled to his soft lips, his silly grin made your heart beat faster. Before you knew it you leaned in and you kissed him. You kissed your childhood best friend. He tasted like cinnamon with vanilla. It left you craving more, so as soon as he pulled away to breathe you pulled him back in. You could hear his heart beating rapidly. He cupped your face, caressing your cheek with so much care, as though you were an illusion, a dream.

“Do you just go around kissing your higher ups?” he teased as soon as you both pulled away. 

Your face flushed and you looked away.

“What? No! Of course not-”

“I haven’t forgotten about last night, you know. You kissed me and Arlecchino. Is there something you’re not telling me?” His teasing grin returned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

You sigh heavily as you decide to give in and just say it, growing lightheaded as your heart races.

“Fine. I love you, Ajax. But it’s so confusing. Aren’t I supposed to love just one person? I love you, but I love the other Harbingers too. I wish I wasn’t so greedy as to want you all to myself. I wish I could say I love all of you without shame swallowing me whole. I don’t feel ashamed because I love you, I’m ashamed because I worry that I’ll ruin this for all of us.” 

What if he hated you?

But instead of responding like you expected him to, like he should’ve: With disgust, with anger, resentment for being so greedy… he stared at you as if he was trying to understand you. Soon he cracked a soft smile, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“You really are an idiot.” 

You felt your face flush from embarrassment and anger! How could he say that so casually as if you didn’t admit you loved him for years? His chuckles turn into a full on fit of laughter, which caused you to grumble;

“Hey! What’s so funny? I just poured my heart out to you and that’s all you have to say!?” You punch his shoulder, but with not nearly enough force to hurt him. You didn’t want to inflict harm on him, especially since you loved him for so long now. Pushing him away would be stupid on your part.

“You jerkface!” You continued hitting his shoulder with a frown. You were only half-jokingly upset, scared that he’d reject you but also overly dramatizing your emotions to not make him worry.

“Jerkface? Are we in kindergarten?” he chuckled, cocking an eyebrow. 

You roll your eyes in irritation.

“You know what I meant! How am I the idiot here?” you snark, sounding an awful lot like an angry chipmunk. Childe softly ruffled your hair, despite your grumbling protests.

“You aren’t greedy for wanting all of us. You’re probably just polyamorous-” 

You blink owlishly, staring at him for a good minute without saying a word, your mouth opening and closing as you struggled to come up with anything to say.

“Poly- Huh?” you stutter out, eyebrows furrowing.

“-And that’s not a bad thing. You’re not greedy, your heart’s too big to fit just one person romantically.” Childe shrugs, as if this was obvious. 

You continued to stare at him dumbfounded as you bit your bottom lip, considering his words. Your eyebrows furrowed as you averted your gaze away from his.

“But what if the rest of the Harbingers don’t think the same way you do?” you whisper, tears threatening to form in your eyes at the mere thought of being rejected from the people who you’ve grown so attached to. 

If they were the sun, you were a sunflower, needing them, craving them to grow as a person. With eyes full of hope you looked up at them like they’ve handed you the world itself. You couldn’t lose that, not after longing for it for all your life. 

You sighed, a familiar feeling of fear pooled in your stomach, but with it came a certain feeling that you couldn’t quite understand… Excitement maybe? You wanted to tell them your feelings for a while now, this was a perfect opportunity for you to do so. 

He let out a soft chuckle as he pulled you in for another sweet kiss.

“If they can’t see you’re perfect, I will. I’m fully devoted to you, Solnyshko. If they can’t reciprocate your feelings, then they’re missing out on being with the sweetest person to ever enter their life,” he whispered, your foreheads softly brushing against each other. Your eyes fluttered shut, a shaky breath escaped your lips as your hands reached for his own. 

Recently everytime you closed your eyes, all you could see was the future you had with the Harbingers. Going stargazing together- you wouldn’t doubt Columbina would talk about the auras of the stars, despite not seeing them. She’d hold you in her arms, and her cold yet welcoming embrace would be the only thing you’d be thinking about for a while. 

Going fishing with Childe was next on your list. He’d always loved it, although you were honestly never interested in fishing. You were just observing his cute expression, how he stuck his tongue out when concentrating on reeling in the fish, how he bragged to you after catching a bigger sea creature. He was so adorable. 

Dancing with Arlecchino was without a doubt one of your wildest and more hopeful dreams. You already knew that Arlecchino learned how to dance from a young age. She was really good at it, her movements flowed smoothly, every sway of her hips left you breathless, you could stare at her for hours. She was so elegant, you wished you knew how to dance so that you could join her. 

Dottore was next. You’d love to go to the local book stores of Snezhnaya with him, since both of you had an interest in what Teyvat had to offer, you thought it’d be fitting to go to the libraries of Sumeru and read together. You'd sit next to him, lean on his shoulder as you flipped the pages together. You knew he was a bit crazy, but he was without a doubt smart.

And lastly Scaramouche, your ‘wake up call’ in a sense. He was the reason you even realized you were in love with the Harbingers. That you were in love with him. Truthfully, your heart still skipped a few beats around him and the Harbingers. You should’ve gotten used to their presence by now, yet you didn’t. You’d love to take him to a flower field, he was as beautiful as purple asters. His figure, his intricately applied makeup, his soft hair which perfectly framed his face, his eyes, which shined with that familiar passion you knew so well always softened slightly whenever he’d look at you. The flower field was perfect, you concluded. Especially if you could make him a bouquet.

Suddenly a thought crossed your mind.

Could you ever marry them? You felt your face heat up at the thought, yet it also made a part of you feel content, warm, and safe. Your stomach was filled with butterflies at the thought of waiting for all of them on the aisle. Soft smiles playing on their lips as they walk towards you.

Arlecchino would wear an elegant black suit, her tie more loose than the others, her coat draped over her shoulders, a corset enchanting her figure further, tight black pants that’d make her muscular legs show off further. She’d look even more stunning, her eyes would shine brighter than when they usually did when looking at you, she’d be… perfect. Her red lipstick would be exchanged for a deeper shade of maroon, that’d leave a light stain on your lips. 

Columbina would wear a white wedding dress with black rose patterns adorning her top, her sleeves would be puffy, making her look like she came out of a fairytale book. Her usually pale face would be covered in her natural blush, shiny eyeshadow making her closed eyes appear that much more magical, her light rosy lipstick would match the color of your blush that’d practically be covering your whole face from both shyness and adoration.

As for Scaramouche, he’d have a typical white dress shirt with a purple corset the same shade as his hair, black pants and you wouldn’t doubt for a second he’d complain about the choice of the corset for him. His usual red eyeliner would instead be black, making his eyes look similar to a fox’s. His cocky smile would be exchanged with an expression full of love as he walked towards you. 

Dottore would wear a black top with sleeves that puff up at the ends, enchanting his every movement, a deep blue coat that you could tell you wouldn’t be able to get your hands off of. The coat would be long in the back, short in the front and would make him look that much more breathtaking. Along with typical black pants- he had always preferred functionality over aesthetics.

Ajax would wear a white long sleeved shirt, an orchid blue waistcoat adorned with silver accents, long sky blue pants and a black coat over his shoulders. He’d smile at you, brighter than ever before, and his eyes, for once, would regain their glow. You felt your heart skip a beat at the thought.

What were you thinking?!

Marrying the Harbingers was beyond ridiculous. None of them seemed like the type to be interested in that kind of commitment! Not to mention the fact that you were an underling, an attractive one, but certainly an underling! Arlecchino and Columbina already had each other, Dottore was too focused on experiments, Ajax was focused on Fatui work, and Scaramouche was…Scaramouche.

You looked back up at Ajax and smiled. He grinned before kissing your forehead once again. You felt your heart flutter at the feeling of his lips against your skin. You pulled him into your embrace and played with his hair, untangling his messy ginger locks. He looked up at you, his face comfortably snuggled in your chest.  After a moment of comfortable silence, he spoke.

“Do you plan on telling them?” his muffled voice came from where he was pressed against the fabric of your uniform.

“I will, I’m just unsure as to when,” you sighed, awkwardly fidgeting with your Fatui insignia.

“Hey, it’ll be okay, they’re all obviously head over heels for you, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind-” Ajax reassured you, holding your hand in his.

“But what if they do? What then?”

“Then it’s the two of us, just like when we were kids.” A soft, comforting smile adorns his lips and you grin back, be it nervously. 

You twist your heel and nod determinedly to yourself, walking towards the Harbinger, the thrill and anticipation intimidating you a bit.

“Where are you going?” he asks, tilting his head curiously but following you nonetheless.

“It’s now or never!” you respond, trying to mask your anxiety with a false confident act. 

Ajax blinked dumbly before giving you a look, indirectly asking you if you’re sure. You gave him a nod and walked towards Arlecchino and Columbina. Arlecchino was sharpening her polearm quietly while Columbina rambled full of excitement about your future sparring match. 

You gently tap Arlecchino’s shoulder, to grab her attention and Columbina, who already sensed your presence, raised an eyebrow.

“Is something the matter, dear?” Columbina asks, her soft voice making you feel light yet also reminding you of the truths that’d soon leave your lips.

“I…” you pause, looking for the right words.

Scaramouche stopped attacking the training dummy as soon as he noticed your nervousness. He walked up to you and the other Harbingers, letting out a scoff.

“What are you doing with them again, underling? Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“There's something I want to tell you all of you,” You muttered, catching Scaramouche’s gaze, as your face heated up from embarrassment at the thought of confessing like this. 

Dottore walked through the door without a care for the tense atmosphere. 

As soon as he spots you, he smirks and puts down the clipboard he was holding as he says: “Ah, if it isn’t the cute lapdog.” 

You stuck your tongue out in response to his comment while Arlecchino and Scaramouche glared at him.

“Well, since you're all here I'd be an idiot to back down now… I have something I need to get off my chest” You gave Childe a nervous glance before gulping.

“Get what off your chest?” asked Columbina, suddenly anxious as to what your confession might be.

“I think I might be polyamorous, I wish I wasn’t but I may be. I’d sacrifice everything I have and don’t have to be with you. I crave you like the sunflowers crave the sun after days of endless rain. I want to be with you, hold you, protect you… Although you’re probably the ones who’ll be protecting me, I’ll learn how to be strong enough to be someone worthy of your love and respect. I love you, my heart is filled with utter adoration for you. Forgive me for being greedy.” You kneeled before them and lowered your head in shame as tense silence filled the air.

“I sincerely apologize for my foolishness, I can’t control who I love, yet that won’t stop me from feeling guilty. I know you guys have bright futures-” You looked at Childe and Dottore, then turned to Scaramouche. 

“You have reputations to uphold and-” Lastly you turned to Arlecchino and Columbina.

“You have partners. I can’t hold you back, that’d be so, so foolish and selfish of me. But I really want to make your lives better in any way I can, I want to be the reason you try your best. I want to make you smile. I sound like a cliche protagonist from a romance book, yet I can’t help it. You deserve a comforting and cute romance after all the shit I’m confident you’ve endured while working here. I value you a lot, I want to love you. So if you’ll let me-”

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you shakily inhaled.

“I’m in love with you,” you repeat, as the silence in the room is swallowing you whole.

[empyrangel]

Finally got around to doing the Arlecchino story quest and I gotta say. what the fuck. genuinely this might be the worst story genshin has ever put out

I was so hyped for it between all of the quests in Fontaine being so good up until now, and the trailer making it seem really dramatic and tense and like it was really going to go in depth about the dynamics in the house of the hearth, just for it to be as boring as it was frustrating.

Part of what made it such a bore to sit through is that we already knew exactly what was going to happen in it. They spoiled so much of it with that terrible amine short they put out prior to the quest. There was no mystery or suspense around Clervie’s identity or all the terrible things she was accusing the house and the Knave of because we already knew she was Arle’s childhood friend and she was talking about the old Knave and not the current one. Seriously, why did they release that short before the quest? And everything that wasn’t spoiled beforehand was painfully predictable. When they were talking about Arle executing people for just wanting a better life than being forced to work for a terrorist organization, I knew there was no way they were going to commit to that. That is way to absurd and cruel and they were absolutely going to chicken out from making Arle villainous so it had to be a red herring. I joked to myself that there was going to be some big reveal about how actually Arle hasn’t been killing these people, she’s just been putting them in witness protection and giving them new civilian identities to live under. And you’re fucking telling me that they actually pulled that shit? Like unironically that was the route they chose to go with? That’s laughable.

This applies to the anime short as well as the quest, but Crucabena was such a one-dimensional cardboard cutout of a character. She was evil to an absurd, almost comical degree, and that’s literally all she was. It’s so obvious she only exists to make Arle look like a better Knave by comparison (and to give her a pathetic sob story of a childhood). She’s not even her own character and she only exists as a foil for Arle, that’s ridiculous.

And that leads into my biggest problem with this quest, which is not only how they absolutely refuse to let Arle be portrayed as a villain or even a morally grey character, but how that leads to insane levels of favoritism that simultaneously harms her character, the characters of everyone else in the quest, and the story itself. I mean the narrative really bends to Arle’s favor in a borderline Mary-Sue-like manner.

She’s all-knowing, apparently. She just knows about both of the plots going down behind her back with no explanation as to why and no prior characterization of her as being omniscient. She knows because she’s ✨special✨ and she just does. Neuvillette has been established to have the power to resonate with and read people’s emotions, but oh so conveniently he can’t read Arle’s emotions. No explanation as to why except that she’s just ✨special✨ and ✨emotionally repressed✨ and he just can’t. She’s also omnipotent btw, because we can’t have the audience believing that Arle is anything other the most perfect most special girlie in Teyvat. The traveler has fought and won against gods, and dragons, and dragon gods, and three other harbingers? Well fuck all of that because they can’t beat this mortal human with ✨special✨ fire magic. Did I mention how strong and special she is? What even was that fight though? Again, the trailer hyped it up so much just for it to fall completely flat. The traveler didn’t manipulate the elements, why not? Were they even trying? Arle just showed them some vision and it completely disabled them. But the audience doesn’t have the context as the what the vision was or what it means (because god forbid we ever get any traveler lore) so it just feels like some lazy cop-out to make sure Arle won the fight no matter what, because she’s the most specialist girl and she’s the best at everything. Can’t have her looking weak.

And that’s another thing, Arle doesn’t have any weaknesses or character flaws. Technically she does, for example she is extremely emotionally repressed. But the narrative isn’t aware that’s a flaw and therefore doesn’t treat it like one, instead she’s treated like the pinnacle of existence. She’s all-knowing, undefeatable in combat, immune to all other characters abilities, a master manipulator, she always has the upper hand against everyone else, she’s intelligent, organized, ruthless, unable to be influenced by emotion, she’s everything except a well-rounded character because this game is so insistent on keeping from Arle from actually being shown as a villain that they somehow did a 180 and made everyone think of her as a hero and the greatest thing since sliced bread. And that leads me to the worst problem with this quest.

The massive Arle dick sucking contest that is the end of the story quest. What the hell was that? Instead of killing people for simply wanting a better life, it turns out Arle forcibly removes people’s personalities and sense of self in a process that is explicitly stated to be extremely painful, and then drops them off in the court of Fontaine with no memories and no idea who they are to fend for themselves for the rest of their lives, but apparently since she doesn’t kill people everyone starts worshiping the ground she walks on? Did everyone conveniently forget that Arle forces children to join the house, then manipulates them into not trying to leave by pretending that the penalty for that is death, and then when people inevitably begin to hate her for being a piece of shit, she removes people’s personalities and sense of self in a process that is explicitly stated to be extremely painful, and then drops them off in the court of Fontaine with no memories and no idea who they are to fend for themselves for the rest of their lives. And on top of that, she’s brainwashed the children of the house to believe that not wanting to forcibly work for a terrorist organization for the rest of your life is the same as betraying your family. And she made the siblings believe that they had to fight her and win to get her to spare the other members when she was going to do that already. Let’s not pretend all that’s not extremely fucked up.

But then you have the two npc’s who were wanting to leave apologizing to her because they were pissed she forced them into the house and made leaving illegal? Like wtf are you apologizing for, you guys are completely in the right? And Lynette and Freminet, who had been beaten by Arle so badly they said they couldn’t move for two days were like “Well that wasn’t even 1% of her power, she could’ve killed us if she wanted to but she went easy, we’re very grateful for that.” Grateful for fucking what? That she didn’t kill you? That’s absurd. And Lyney, who is currently being groomed by Arlecchino to soon take her place in the cycle of abuse, thanks Arle for sparing him and letting him be in the house. He calls her a hero. These people think they actually owe Arle lives for bringing them into the hearth wtf. When I said that the Arle favoritism was ruining other’s characters besides her own, this is what I meant. The siblings could have had some development in this quest. They could have finally woken up to Arle’s manipulation and we could have some nuance to their opinions on and loyalty to Arlecchino while still having them stay in the house because it’s the only home and family they know. But no, all of that got trashed in favor of showing the audience how great Arle is for not killing and experimenting on children and how everyone loves her, and is blindly obedient, and never questions her.

But I think the worst of it was Clervie. We get that whole backstory about how Clervie dedicated her life to seeking freedom and opposing Crucabena’s terrible way of leading until she couldn’t take it anymore and decided the only way to be free was to die. And then she witnesses everything that happened at the ruins. Arle threatening to kill people just for wanting to leave a place they never chose to be a part of, the people begging and crying for their lives, Arle demanding that rules must be upheld above people’s lives, the blatant way Arle was using “loyalty” to manipulate the people in the house, her making the siblings fight her with the lives of the other members on the line, her painfully removing people’s memories and personality and kicking them out. Clervie saw all that and still told Arle that she was a good Knave and Clervie approved of what she did. At this point the game might as well just come out and say “See! Everyone loves Arle and thinks she’s the greatest. Even her friend who opposed the old Knave for being cruel thinks she’s doing a great job. That means you have to like her too. Pay no attention to what an actual piece of human shit she is and just admit that she’s the specialist and the bestest character :)” because honestly that would have been more subtle than all this bullshit.

And what really gets me is that in the quest they explicitly made a point about how sad it was that the children except for Arle and Clervie were too brainwashed to realize how cruel the old Knave was, and then they went and pulled that ending. This goes beyond irony.

Only good part of the quest was that conversation between Lyney and Freminet at the beginning and Lynette calling everyone a dumbass. This whole quest should’ve just been them.

I had such high expectations because all of Fontaine so far, from the archon quest, to the world quests, to events, to story quests have been almost perfect. I’m so pissed that we’re leaving this incredible nation on such a sour note.

[a-compass-without-a-needle]

"I've connected the dots"

"You didn't connect shit."

"I connected them."

[pagesofivy]

Okay so here me out… farmer/rancher/cowboy Katsuki who met you maybe a month ago in the local bar and things are going well, a bit fast, but well. You spend the night at his house every couple of nights. He absolutely loves waking up to you except this morning you were gone. He panics at first but starts following a weird little trail you left. Your pillow in the floor, one sock by the door, the blanket on the couch gone, the kitchen cabinet still open, his boots knocked over, the front door barely shut. Katsuki can’t help but smile from the porch even as the chilly morning air settles over him. You’re in the field petting a calf and talking to another.

Not quite sure it qualifies as a prompt but your thoughts?

oh god yes Katsuki opens his eyes and reaches over to snuggle, but the newly-yours side of the bed is empty and his heart swoops low to his feet - This was going well, wasn't it? Where could you have gone? Did you really leave without saying goodbye?

He closes his eye and takes a calming breath before shuffling out of bed and pulling on his pants and a shirt. Might as well get ready for his farm duties, if he's not able to cuddle with you in bed.

And then he notices a pillow on the floor and a sock by the door - too colorful to be his. Oh?

He puts the pillow back on the bed and shuffles your sock to the side, then leaves the bedroom, peering through the darkness. There's a light on in the kitchen, though no noise, but maybe you're there?

A quick peek in shows an absence of you, but there's a cupboard door open and your favorite mug missing, plus a stirring spoon sitting out and definitely used.

He looks to the next logical place and peeks into his living room, only to see the room empty. Your favorite blanket is missing and the screen door is closed but the heavy front door is open. Outside?

In the doorway, he slides on his boots, which had been knocked askew from their usual upright position amongst his more casual shoes - and your shoes are gone, so you must be outside.

He grabs one of his jackets for you and makes his way outside; you're not on the porch, but peering through the misty morning fog, he notices three shapes - two rather lumpy square ones that are definitely a calf and its mother, and one humanoid that is, without a doubt, you.

It brings a smile to his face and he watches fondly as you pet the calf, occasionally sipping from your mug and chatting; he can't hear what you're saying, but the hum of your voice carries to the porch and warms him.

You hadn't left.

[liminalmemories21]

⭐star⭐

sorry, sorry, my day got away from me.

Okay, let's talk about the three sentences in Knave 1 that are the reason the entire rest of the series exists.

When he hangs up with Captain Strand he hesitates, has a moment where he desperately wants to call his mother and say, there’s this boy, and I think I’m in love with him, and he’s been shot and I’m terrified I’ll never have a chance to tell him that, show him that he can trust me, that we could be great together, can you come hold my hand? But he doesn’t because what would either of them say if he did. It isn’t the kind of thing they talk about.

One, I am low key impressed/appalled that that first sentence is a solid five lines long and has more subclauses than I can count (@cecilyv, someday I'm gonna infect you with this, because it's only fair that this is reciprocal, and you've already sold me on m-dashes). On the other hand, it's a nicely balanced run on sentence, so there is that.

But more importantly, two, this is the paragraph that niggled at me. And made me kept asking - in this universe, how do Carlos's parents find out about TK? What does that look like? (and then later, what if Carlos actually had a chance to say the things to his parents that we never get to see on the show). And then I had two scenes that ended up being the cornerstones of Knave 2 that wouldn't leave me alone.

1 - the diner scene

TK looks up at him warily. "Hey, baby."

He looks exhausted, but the smile he gives Carlos is familiar and warm. Carlos sits down. "Half the city is looking for you, you know."

TK nods. "I figured."

Carlos gives him an exasperated look. "Then why are you here?"

TK shrugs. "It's Thursday. We always come here on Thursdays. I wasn't going to miss date night."

2 - the scene where Carlos comes home from Sunday lunch with his family.

TK’s reading when he gets home, curled up in the corner of the couch. He’s got his laptop open and a pad of paper next to him and he’s making notes with a tiny frown of concentration. He hasn’t looked up yet, which means he’s probably got headphones in, and for a thief his situational awareness is for shit, but it means Carlos gets to watch him for a moment, and he aches with how much he loves this.

He must make a noise, or the movement when he takes his coat off catches TK’s attention because he looks up, pulling out his earbuds. “Hey, baby. How was lunch?”

He hates that that’s a question that TK has to ask, that TK hadn’t been there with him to listen to his tios complain about the price of gas, and his mother whisper that Tia Francesca’s flan is somehow getting worse. And just for a moment he hates that TK never pushes Carlos to invite him, never complains about being left to his own devices on a Sunday afternoon, that TK understands the boundaries Carlos has drawn for himself, and doesn’t ask him to step over them.

And then I had to figure out how to combine them - and eventually I realized that for the heist plot to work, where Carlos believes without question that there's something other than the obvious going on, that you have to see why he has that kind of faith. And thus, split timeline, that I wrote separately and wasn't at all sure was going to work once I spliced them together.

Also, random fun fact - in one of the early drafts of Knave 1, Carlos had two sisters. I ended up cutting them because I wasn't doing anything with them, and they were yet more OCs I had to try and keep track of, and I already had a lot.

Director's Cut asks

[adamussutekh]

In a world of "oh shit, turns out that guy you liked is a trump supporter and a fascist" and "aw man, that guy I liked diddles kids" it's really nice that James Frey isn't any of those things!

He's just really fucking weird

[blazingblorbos]

oh god. oh god. oh.. oh gosh. I didn't expect this so soon. I didn't expect this today, I've been busy with life related things so the HYV calendar is really unbeknownst to me, is this update really next week already?? where can I rant about this- whERe can I rant about this-

oh. I made a blog for that exact purpose ! OKAY—!

fuck. fuck me, dude holy-

FUCK.

the slightly worried look on Arle's face as Snezhevna is reaching out her hand, only for her face to seemingly revert back to cold and neutral once the camera actually focuses in on her. Her tone is cold but her words are reassuring,,,,,,,,

ALSO GOD FUCKING DAMN IT. HOW GENTLY SHE HOLDS HER HAND.

the d o o r. the DOOR. THE FUCKING DOOR, CHAT. the slow opening at first, and once you can make out that it's certainly Arle's silhouette she shoves it fully open - both doors, both hands. incredibly attractive—. the FEAR in that man's eyes.

The crossed hands. We can't see her face but you know what expression she's making (it's not really an expression. it's neutral but you can feel it). THE FUCKING F E A R ON THAT MAN'S FACE.

Oh- she literally just grabbed him by the throat. Just like that- ! There's the expression. Oh, you feel it, alright. If you go frame by frame, you'll notice her eyes narrow in the slightest right before ->

POV: you're getting chocked out by Arlecchino, and that's actually the least of your worries. (my god she is beautiful).

I did not expect him to simply be thrown down to the ground and I ... d i d not expect her to step on his FACE. [insert gay masochistic joke here. you know the one]. Did not expect her to smile (this is the ONLY scene wherein we see her smile even slightly... huh...) *And the reason I say "I did not expect her to smile", is because with the momentum we were getting I thought she was straight up going to crush his throat, or stab him (hand, weapon or otherwise). It looked like she was digging the forefoot of her shoe into the guys head and not the... .. y'know deadly fucking heel, so that.. confused me. (and the sound when she supposedly stomped his head in did NOT sound all that impactful) but ANYWAYS I digress-

I'm of course assuming more happened after the cut to black because . madam where did you get that bloodstain on you—

BLOODSTAIN ON HER FACE!?!?!? (more on this in a second)

Freminet??? Freminet feature ! (not Lyney or Lynette.. interesting). :(((( the poor boy sounds so,, desensitized. His father

holy shit quick intermission. After the mental chronological fuckfest that was "The Song Burning in the Embers" I don't think I can look at Arle and the HotH the same anymore because she's.. she's like not even 10 years older than them (?) it's insane this doesn't make any sense- ANYWAYS.

HIS FATHER comes back with what we later see to be real blood on her face. Tells him "I've acquired new funds". We know what that means... HE knows what that means!!, and the way WE - THE AUDIENCE - know that Freminet knows what it means is because the boy replies "Oh.. Okay.."

LIKE-! chat omg this is truly just routine for them,,,, Like out of the 3 siblings, Freminet always gave off the biggest child assassin vibe, but wow. To see that routine and desensitized nature of the HotH's line of work just,, splayed out in a Character Trailer is . wow. and the look in his eyes as he says it is- wow.

YEAH UHH BLOODSTAIN ON HER FACE??/ The lighting in this scene now is evidently less saturated. And it's just- oh my FUCKING GOD it does so many things:

the blood on Arle's face looks... dry. it doesn't look as fresh as you may expect which could mean many things. It could mean she spent,,, hella long in there with that guy doing what needed to be done. It could mean she took care of something else immediately after dealing with that guy (perhaps smth related to the children Snezhevna wanted to save). But regardless, it means she didn't put in the effort to clean her face and hide what happened. OBVIOUSLY !!! that is so . obviously her style but to S E E IT IN MY GENSHIN IMPACT CHARACTER TRAILER it's- oh my god

it serves to highlight the really, truly, bleak nature of the scene now that we know plain and simple Arlecchino just killed a man. There's no subtext, there's no reading between the lines. The only thing that didn't happen is that we didn't see contact nor see a body. But, no sugarcoating, Arlecchino killed a man. No one is hiding it. You are not surprised. No one should be but damn.

and ofc it acts as a representation of Snezhevna dying...

because it seems like the saturation is back once the camera switches to looking at Snezhevna laying in bed.

And is it me, or does it look like Arle's allowing herself to actually display a tinge of worry in her expression this time? And also, EVER so slightly in her tone as well. You can feel it, it's gentler.

"Once I'm better I'll start my next mission.."

THIS. THIS!! IN SO MANY WAYS THIS!

OKAY. so bear with me. I haven't actually read any of the sibling's character stories yet, so there could be a LOT of info I'm missing but:

There's still a pretty thought-provoking conversation going on (in MY mind, at least) about just how intensely these children are being trained to be soldiers for the Fatui. They're obviously in an environment that indoctrinates them into being soldiers of SOME kind, but I still don't know what kind of soldier that's supposed to be. Are they all ALWAYS extensions of the Fatui? Or are they more-so extensions of Arlecchino specifically..? Snezhevna was obviously trying to help those children she came across, and I'm assuming that happened on her latest mission, so was the mission for a charitable cause?? What was her next mission supposed to be?? Same line of work? Saving people? Or would it switch up and was she going to be sent to "take care of" (kill .) someone???

So I don't know whether to interpret that line as a hint of them being overworked and 1) feeling like they need to continue their work out of pure fear that they'll be deemed ineffective and useless... or 2) feeling like they need to continue their work out of a sense of loyalty and duty to the place that took them in and raised them. Or both..

and ofc the funeral scene. I can't say much more than what's already shown right on the screen.

and am I bugging? Or is the location of the grave....

[iwoszareba]

Warmth (again)

Knave/Socothbenoth

i wrote the first part somewhere last year and now i thought it would be fun to add part two with flipped pov

---

He is a divinity, a demon, a being of pure passion. His facade is innocuous but his skin is so hot to the touch, you sometimes wonder if all the lust he was made of is burning him from inside out.

The animal instinct in you screams that you will get hurt if you do not move away this instant, but you want to know how long you can hold onto him before you reach the point where it becomes unbearable.

Could you go beyond that point? You like to think that you could.

But not right now, right now he is sated and that means you can wrap your weary limbs around him and bask in his warmth without the fear of consequences. A reward for surviving the full brunt of his attention earlier.

In moments like these he can be surprisingly tender. His fingers softly comb through your hair without the sharp nails grazing your skin. Sometimes he even shares a fraction of his plans with you and he sounds so hopeful you forget how full of spite most of his actions are.

His voice lulls you to sleep.

When you wake up alone all you can think of is how incredibly cold you feel without him. *** He is so strange, one of a kind. A mortal who was put on the path to divinity but took a hard turn to plunge into the heart of chaos instead. You sometimes wonder if that makes him greater than you.

Your blood boils at such a notion. You must bring him to his knees, prove your undeniable superiority. But no matter the extent of violence you inflict he keeps coming back for more. Even in that he has the last laugh.

He won against your sister. He could defeat you too.

But not right now, not when you hold him in your arms and whisper sweetly in his ear. You have nothing to fear as long as he is sated. As long as he is yours. A reward for your lustful ministrations.

With your mind at ease you sometimes catch yourself getting lost in the moment. You treat him with tenderness and share parts of your true self, even if that goes against what you understand to be your demon nature.

Your voice lulls him to sleep.

When you get ready to leave you can’t help but notice how your hands feel a little less steady than before.