#clockwork-baroness

[cauliflowercounty]

Mornings in the Mirror

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

Summary: a little vignette about getting dressed in the morning with Feyd. Established relationship.

Same universe as Knives Dance based on some of the exposition from part 3 because I’m having trouble saying goodbye to Knives Dance. You don’t have to have already read the series to understand, but there are some spoilers to the series. Set between parts 2 and 3.

Warnings: some suggestive content

Word Count: 2.1k

Written on mobile cause I’m on a bus

You step out of the bathroom attached to the bedroom you share with Feyd, using a towel to gently blot the last of the water off your hair to finish drying it. As you do so, you look outside the window to observe Giedi Prime’s cityscape with its dark, expansive architecture filled with imposing, black structures.

The city is already humming with morning activity. Ships fly through the air, taking people where they need to be like clockwork. You hear the beat of the Harkonnen armies marching on the ground far below your quarters. The sound has become a comfort to you since coming to Giedi Prime. Without fail, the marching would start at the same time each day, ringing in a new day as the black sun shone on the city. Just like all those times before, you feel the aura of Giedi Prime wash over you. Everything is in perfect order, which puts your mind at ease.

Looking over to the large bed behind you, you see Feyd has gotten up since you’ve been in the shower, leaving the sheets untidy over the mattress. You smile. You’ve come to learn his habits over the weeks, and he always does this, knowing the servants will come and replace them with fresh sheets later once you’ve both left. He’s always said that he has more important duties than making his own bed. Now that you’re living together, you know he’s right, especially since he’s Baron Harkonnen now. His daily meetings with advisors in the Harkonnen War Room or diplomats on his throne with you by his side often keep him occupied. His time is precious, as is yours.

Making your way over to the closet, you see your husband through the crack in the doorway. His back is to you, allowing you to see his muscled shoulder blades and admire his slim waist. He’s standing in front of his side of the closet, running his fingers along the series of clothes on hangers. You slip into the closet and approach him from behind. You know he’s already heard you approach when you see his shoulders relax. He turns to you, his Baroness. When he does so, you can see how his eyes soften, a small smile on his lips as he looks at you. He extends his palm outward to you and you gladly walk over and slide your hand into his.

“Good morning, my love,” he says to you before pulling you closer by your hand and wrapping his other hand around your waist before dragging it up your body and cupping your cheek. He brushes his thumb across your skin, sending shivers down your spine

As you look at him, your heart fills with pride, knowing you’re the only one who gets to be with him in this way. You get to see him for more than his reputation. Anyone would scorn the idea that Feyd-Rautha, the psychotic nephew of Vladimir Harkonnen, may he rest in peace, who slays countless slaves in a gladiatorial arena and kills servants at will, would be able to do something so tender. However, here you are, the only one to behold his love and affection.

“Good morning, Feyd,” you whisper back to him against his lips, and he gives your hand another firm squeeze. “I hope you slept well.” You both break reluctantly, knowing you both have to get ready now. “What are we doing today?” you ask him, turning to his closet and thumbing through his clothes yourself.

“We have another meeting with our generals today in the War Room,” he says as he stands back to watch you at work. He was surprised the first time you went to pick out what he wore for the day, but he quickly grew to appreciate the ritual because of how much thought you invested in it every day. “We also have to meet with our Directors of Commerce concerning spice on Arrakis. We should also be receiving news about the status of spice production.”

“I hope Rabban has gotten his act together,” you say, pulling one of his outfits from the hanger and taking an undershirt of his out of a drawer beside you. It’s a deep blue almost black pair of pants with a matching jacket with a high neckline. You hand it to him, and he immediately puts each item on.

You bring your arms to his shoulders to smooth the fabric of the jacket over his body. You grab the seams at the shoulders, lining them up with the edges of his body so that it hangs perfectly on him. The clean lines accentuate the broadness of his torso and bolster his imposing stature. He really looks like a Baron now. You make a mental note to have the seamstresses make more outfits like this for him.

“...And I hope Rabban has figured out how to acquire a brain,” Feyd mumbles, savoring your touch on him.

“Whatever will we do with him…” you sigh in return as you kneel down to smooth out his pant legs.

“Thank you,” Feyd says as you rise to your feet again when you finish.

“Of course,” you reply, starting to make your way over to your side of the closet. He follows you and brings a hand to your shoulder from behind. You twist around to look at him with your brows knit. Why did he stop you?

“May I… return the favor today, my darling?” He asks, his voice wavering for a moment. Your lips part in surprise. He’s never asked to do this before, but his nervousness that he’s trying to conceal makes your heart swell. From that small moment of hesitation, you can tell he’s been wanting to ask this of you for some time.

You step back to allow him access, and Feyd raises his gaze up to the exposed rack of clothes. He starts at one end, pushing the outfits on the rod one by one to take a close look at each one. As he moves down the line, you can tell he’s deep in concentration. Should he pick a Harkonnen gown, or one you’ve brought from Youra? He’s taking great care in this task, which makes you sigh in appreciation.

He finally decides after many moments of consideration. He pulls down a floor length Harkonnen gown with a Queen Anne neckline and cap sleeves. It’s made of layers of fabric that seem to swallow all light that touches it, creating a rich obsidian black. The bodice is an intricately detailed corset adorned with elegant lace and prominent ribbing atop fine mesh. As he turns it around, he drags his gaze up and down the dress. The back is also beautiful, the design stretching all the way around.

“I haven’t seen you wear this one before,” he says, as he admires the open upper back, the edges of which are lined with the same lace as the bodice.

“It has a lace-up corset. It takes longer and requires another person to get into,” you explain, which makes Feyd’s eyes glimmer with excitement.

“What am I here for then?” he asks with a grin.

“Ruling Giedi Prime perhaps?” you jest. He scoffs and brings the dress over.

“Other than that,” he says, taking it off the hanger.

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you, Feyd.”

“It really isn’t any trouble, my love. Please? May I help you?” You see a hint of longing in his eyes and you nod at him, abandoning your towel as Feyd loosens the laces of the corset. He helps you by gathering the dress, giving you the ability to dive head first into the gown. As you pull down the dress over your body and put your arms through the armholes, you immediately notice how luxurious the fabric is against your skin. Even though the corset has not been tightened, you know that it will be a perfect fit by just feeling it on yourself. Turning your back to Feyd and holding yourself straight, you silently signal to Feyd that you’re ready.

“Let me know if it’s too tight,” he whispers in your ear from behind. His breath on your neck makes your skin tingle, and you try to resist turning around, grabbing his head and kissing him. At your motion he begins to tug on the laces little by little, causing the corset to perfectly conform to your figure. His touch is precise and the way he pulls at the strands is decisive and firm. To your surprise, he’s rather good at this and seems to know exactly what to do. Once he is done tightening it, he uses his fingers to gently tie a knot then a bow at the back of your dress with the excess ribbon. As you move around a little to settle into the dress, you feel how the corset isn’t too loose on you, and you don’t feel like you’re being suffocated either.

Before you can thank him for a job well done, he’s already at your feet, placing a pair of strapless patent leather shoes in front of you. He takes your hand in his. You use your free hand to grab your skirt as you slip the shoes on one by one. Feyd beckons you to follow him and takes you both over to the mirror in the closet. He positions you in front of him in the center of the mirror.

“Look at you, darling,” he whispers to you, his eyes wandering up and down the portrait of you in front of him. Feyd could look at this image all day. The bodice fits your body perfectly and the dress flares out from your waist beautifully, making you look like a goddess descended from above. He brings his arms around you and smooths his hands over your front, feeling the lace pass under his fingertips. The look of you together is truly gratifying for Feyd with him in his clean cut ensemble and you in your gown. You both look powerful next to each other. Together you are Baron and Baroness of House Harkonnen and you look the part. “You’re exquisite, my love.”

He dips his head down and brings his lips to your neck, pressing small kisses over the area. Feeling the heat within you rising, you turn around in his embrace and bring your arms up around his neck. Capturing his lips in yours, you kiss him fervently. He brings one hand up and combs his fingers through your hair, which makes you feel like a surge of electricity has shot through your veins. As you kiss him back, all of your surroundings seem to melt away into nothingness. All of it is insignificant compared to your husband. You can tell he’s also lost in the sensation of you against his body and in his hands as he rakes his hands through your hair. His grip on your waist tightens as his kiss becomes hungrier, and you feel him tug at your bottom lip with his teeth.

Breaking away from him, you see how heavy his lids are now, his firm grip on you not letting up. You smile at him and give him another quick kiss, this one much lighter. You didn’t want to stop, but you must attend to your duties. “Later, darling,” you sigh into his ear. “I just got dressed, after all. I wouldn’t want to undo your expert work.”

He lets out an amused huff and nods in agreement. You go over to the mirror and realize your hair is completely disheveled. Your dress is still beautiful, but you can’t say the same thing about your hair now that Feyd’s had his hands on it.

“I bet none of the Harkonnen women you’ve had in the past had to deal with this issue when leaving your quarters,” you joke as you open a different drawer near you, which contains all of your hair care tools that you’d brought with you to Giedi Prime. You take a moment to make the necessary adjustments to your hair, trying to salvage it.

“You need not mention them,” Feyd says, his jaw tightening. “They are of no concern to you or me anymore.”

“I know,” you smile, turning back to him and extending your arm. “I’m only teasing. Let’s go.”

He relaxes and gladly takes your hand, allowing you to lead him out of your quarters. With that, you begin your day side by side as Baron and Baroness of House Harkonnen.

—

Thanks for reading! 💛

Let me know if you’d like to be part of my Feyd taglist

[carlarosenakilah]

[General info about my stories/other blogs for the newcomers]

The Osix Family (@asktheosixfamily):

A Liminal Fantasy of slice of life and action. Its about a family who died around the late 1930s and was given a chance to live in an afterlife and a living world: Vivlìo Istorion. However, dangerous entities lurk around the corners bringing despair and fear. To keep that peaceful living life, with the use of their given magic, they fight to keep the world safe while also learning how to grow and work on themselves.

"What We Lost" (Lil Lucifer StoryTale AU):

Based on the world of @lilluciferau, the daughter of the Archangel Raphael and Primrose is just another regular soldier who fights demons. However, her mom's absence is unknown to her. Longing for her, she goes out on a secret quest to find the truth about her mother. While she does so she starts to see the cruelty of the world and tries to restore what they lost.

Little Clockworks (@littleclockworks):

A side blog to The Osix Family, we see what goes up above in the world of Vivlìo Istorion and how the world works. Once again, a slice of life story. We see this through mostly the P. O. V. of Charlotte and Coraline Akilah as they interact with their friends/coworkers and their mentors Mask Maker and Paperbag.

[COLLAB] Pasta4U (@creepy-pasta4u):

Based on the world of Creepypasta, this is just ironically another slice of life ask blog featuring four crew members: Mollie, France, J, and Frieda. We see how these four try to survive the Operator, their boss, while dealing or forming connections with the rest of the crew.

Casino Cups: Wilted Ivory (mostly featured in this blog):

Christine White and Teacup are a couple of fucked up Orphans who went to start a new life in Inkwell City. They happen to be apartment neighbors next door to the Cup brothers, who also help them get a job. Christine as an assassin at the Devil's Casino and Teacup as an assistant at a news printing work shop. There's no lore to hide in here so, another slice of life, these two learn how to trust and love again as they finally find peace in their life. Teacup having an older brother figure (Mugman) while also getting adopted by her best friend (later mom) Christine, and Christine bonding with Cuphead who's also as fucked up as her and finds love again. Also Christine and Baroness are exes so-

[COLLAB] The Better Casino (@cupheadocscasino):

An alternate reality where Christine and a bunch of other people (other cuphead ocs from wonderful creators) quit and went to start their own Casino. Another slice of life but a wholesome and funny one as they compete against the Devil and form connections with each other.

[Will add more soon if new stories come around]

(Also I'd like to point out that I don't want The Osix Family to be associated with Babtqftim so its not a Babtqftim au anymore it's its own thing)

[underwentrpg]

DEMONS

They came, they said, just from next door. They say they come for the bright lights of the fairegrounds, the thrill of winning big at the casinos, the chance of seducing some fair person — but deep in your heart, you know it's not true. Their big smiles only ever serve to show the sharpness of their fangs, a fair warning to any and all who would deal with these amber-eyed denizens of that most infernal realm. Still, if you want something so much you're willing to sell most anything and everything, then it's well known throughout the city that the one you go to when all else fails is a demon.

DOPPELGÄNGERS

They say another you walks under this earth, taking your place in the affections of your kith and kin. They talk of memories you do not share, activities you do not recall doing. When have you been so forgetful? they ask. Curiosity turns to worry turns to suspicion. Are you sure you're you? Rumours swirl in conversations held during the break of twilight, when polite conversation becomes most decidedly impolite: your own image walks, unbound, free to do whatever they wish with the mirror of your body — yet, they say, always inexplicably leaving behind drippings of black tar.

DROWNED FOLK

This deep beneath the earth, what once had been desert broke past aquifers and groundwater. Here, under the careful attentions of the Haunted Ones, the waters of the earth become the waters of the world — and whatever lost souls that once found themselves submerged in that profound abyss inevitably come washing up on the Oasis. They are strangers to the direct flow of time: their yesterdays, far different from the yesterday of Gulch City. What purpose might the Haunted Ones have in mind for the bringing back of these drowned folk? Like all other questions asked in the City, the answer yet remains to be seen.

HUMANS

Humans stand as ordinary mortals, without the strengths, traits, and abilities possessed by other supernatural entities. Devoid of special powers, they once navigated their daily lives, often unaware of the mystical entities that reside in their midst, concealing their true nature within the shadows. Avatars & Nullifiers Humans are susceptible to the sinister sway of strange entities that hide in the shadows. These entities possess extraordinary powers and incomprehensible motives. Their aim is to corrupt the souls of mortals, transforming them into horrifying distortions of their former selves. Clockwork Automata In order to stop the biological clock from running down their limited lives, humans opted to become clocks themselves: flesh and bone replaced with whirring gears and metal encasing, the miracles of science trumping the fragile biology of yesteryears. Perhaps there had been a time, early on in its flourishing, where people who opted for this procedure had been scorned and vilified by society at large, considered as affronts against the delicate ordering of society. Yet what order remains, when the City finds itself lodged under earth and mud? Now, clockwork automata wine and dine with the very best of them — and sometimes, as is the case with the Rubber Baroness, have found themselves to be one of them.

[styxnstars]

King Gerard headcanons time, LESSGOOOO 💙💙💙

Tw// murder and abuse

♧ he/him/they/them pronouns

♧ Gay! He likes men!!! :DDD and he's also demisexual 🖤🤍💜🩶

♧ 5'3" (he's shorter than Johan but isn't judged for it)

♧ 19 years old (since he's not a prince anymore when he turned 12)

♧ His birthday is on February 4th 🎂🎉🎊

♧ Has high functioning autism, epilepsy, and PTSD

♧ Besides English, he's fluent in French (the France and Belgium dialects), Romanian, Polish, Bulgarian, and Hungarian 🇨🇵🇷🇴🇵🇱🇧🇬🇭🇺

♧ His last name is Csintalan, meaning "mischievous, naughty" in Hungarian even tho he acts like the exact opposite of that lol

♧ Grew up in Hungary as a child but then moved to England so he could rule his own kingdom and be more independent 🇧🇬🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿

♧ He despises his male relatives to an infuriating degree, he sometimes has thoughts of executing them but doesn't give in because he doesn't want the entire kingdom thinking he's a bad king

♧ He has an English-esque accent like Johan, except Gerard's accent is slightly more heavier than Johan's

♧ He likes flowers, going for walks through meadows, being serenaded/sang songs to (as long as it doesn't sound like a cat screeching bloody murder), hanging out with Clockwork Smurf, being generous to others, pastries and cakes, looking for constellations at night, plushes, and visiting Johan when he can! ^^

♧ He dislikes extreme weather, loud and sudden noises, feeling like he isnt capable of doing anything right, cemeteries/crypts, Peewit, blood and gore of any kind (he will have a mental breakdown if he sees it at all), crowded places (except for when hes looking outside his castle window), violence, hard and chewy foods, and seeing people cry and in distress.

♧ His father (Baron Laszlo) was beheaded for treason when Gerard was only 2 years old, and he witnessed the entire thing. This is one of the main causes of his PTSD.

♧ Has a very caring and loving mother (Baroness Boglárka) who lives in Hungary 🇧🇬

♧ Has a 12 year old sister named Dorina who lives with their mother

♧ Gerard is one of the sweetest people you will ever meet. Unlike most kings are, they are usually unjust, brutal, overbearing, and just plain mean. But not Gerard, he is a fair king who loves helping other people in need and offering acts of service to citizens of his kingdom every day. Even though his relatives have treated him like absolute shit for years on end, he surprisingly does not have a reputation for getting easily angered. He's stood up for himself in these dire situations and is very brave to do so.

♧ He does however have PTSD from his relatives verbally, emotionally, and physically abusing him ever since he was 6. He would be hit if he made a mistake and would get yelled at if he talked about how he truly felt about his relatives. He would get hit so hard that he would bleed or get knocked out, leading to several concussions throughout his life <:(

♧ He used to date Princess Francesca, but he broke up with her because he felt like he wasn't ready for a relationship and that he needed time to mentally heal.

♧ He used to rule a kingdom in England, but then he moved to Scotland to get away from his relatives as far as he could. He lives a much happier and low-stress life now („• ᴗ •„)

[scarlett-iwonne]

A Chaos Prayer

Chaos,

grandness around us, within us

our pasts and our fates,

the heads and the tails you bring us,

nothingness,

mistress, our all that is free and forbidden

forgiven, forsaken, forseen and forsworn;

Our endlessness,

countless infinities that you defy

our unbreaking circle of charities your grace is defined by;

our mother, our barrens of space who is bearing existence;

our eminence,

baroness, dancing the torments of pregnance

our sorceress, chanting the songs of emergence;

our senses and souls,

your spawn, your kin, your death and your sins

our servant, your serfs

kneeled down and bowed over

your lust that is shameless, yearned for and proud,

raised up and all that is tall afly

your will that is mindful, yearning, forgiving;

our Godesses, our locks and our keys,

around us, within us, the now and the here,

listening through the ears of machine elves

our absolution from words uncertain;

speaking through colours of clockwork glyphs

our faith to bring magic into our lives;

teaching through picture puzzle pattern cellar doorways

our choice to approach whenever we wish.

You are awareness. We are mindful.

You are presence. We are eternal.

[tea-and-conspiracy]

Prompt 8: Tepid

When some gangly Ishgardian named Emmereaux Dufresne first showed up in the colony, Olivie Lachansseau thought he was hilarious.

He was clearly no magician. In fact, the boy probably wouldn’t know magic if scarves started blowing out one of his ears. But as out of place as he was, he clearly wasn’t of Ishgard’s upper crust, either; he had the arrogance, but lacked the narrow mind. So he was in the right place, as far as she could discern.

In order to figure out why, Olivie began to station herself in the same lobby after her classes ended, and studied there – or occasionally “studied” there -- all afternoon. Inevitably Emmereaux would pass, allowing her to heckle him. That hadn’t been part of the plan, but for whatever reason as she saw him appear, the first words out of her mouth were:

“Is that the only outfit you own?”

It turned out that it was. Oops.

But that did open the floodgates to conversation. He was a goldsmith’s son, who had grown fascinated with his father’s watchmaking. Unfortunately his sire had perished in a recent Dravanian attack and, as that was the only family that Emmereaux had left, he had come to Sharlayan to learn clockwork from their mammet masters instead. He’d had to sell everything he owned, including his father’s little shoppe, in order to afford the tuition.

“But this is just a temporary setback,” Emmereaux said, with ironclad confidence and eyes as cold and bright as Ishgard’s winter sky. “When I return home I will open a factory, and then I’ll be rich enough to live up in the Pillars. I’m going to make it so that my children never know hunger and cold the way I have.”

Perhaps a wiser woman would have found that laughable – the empty boasting of a cocksure youth, who’d yet to be body-checked by reality. But there was something different to Emmereaux’s brand of confidence. It was less arrogance and moreso roaring defiance: a bold-faced challenge to the hand fate had dealt him. As a student of astrology, Olivie couldn’t help but to find herself intrigued.

And as it turned out, the unique combination of his single-minded determination and her celestial guidance achieved just that. Emmeraux got his factory and his fortune. Olivie never would have pictured herself living atop a high tower in distant, snowy Ishgard, but somehow she fell in love and became a baroness in the process. Now here she sat almost thirty years later, long hair blowing out the window as though she were some fairytale princess, watching fresh powder drift onto the rooftops far below. She watched it fall and fall, and found her heart had frozen over as much as the land outside.

She hadn’t been awake for that. No, she was the only person in Eorzea to have slept through Dalamud’s fall, at least in the metaphorical sense. Ishgard had only ever seen a witch when she walked through its gates in Emmeraux’s arms, and neither was it wrong. The Inquisition had cost her her sanity for a full decade of her life. And while she was eternally grateful for Eliane and Barengar’s efforts in fishing her back to reality, those were ten years she would never get back.

A lot had changed in those ten years. She knew she certainly had.

So had Emmereaux.

It wasn’t the accident. She would have loved him regardless of how able-bodied he was or wasn’t. But it was harder to ignore what was within. Emmereaux had always been sharp and calculating before – had always had something of an ego – but he’d also been an honest, honorable man. Pillars life had eroded that away, warping him into a cunning patriarch. He’d absorbed many of Ishgard’s less-endearing traits in a bid to survive and fit in up here in the Pillars, and they were traits she noticed in Eliane now as well. Despite Olivie’s best efforts, Eliane was very much her father’s daughter. As House Dufresne-now-Requingris continued to grow in power and wealth, she could tell which way the winds were blowing.

No, too much had changed. The longer Olivie haunted these halls – whether with or without her mind – the more she felt adrift. She could feel the sea calling to her again, found herself longing for the foggy shores of home. She’d never even seen Old Sharlayan before, but her family had secured passage for her there.

She could live with them, maybe finally earn her Archon’s mark...

And...

A rugged knight rode up on his chocobo far below. Even if the bird hadn’t been the only purple one in the yard, the man stuck out from his sheer beastly size alone. Olivie had to smile, warmth blooming in her chest to see him safely returned home.

If he could come with her, selfish though the thought was, her new life would be complete.

But now came a rap at her door. Olivie turned to open it; Emmereaux was waiting on the other end, as golden and regal as ever. Once upon a time she would have blushed at such a sight; it saddened her somewhat to feel so tepid towards him now.

He’d worked so hard to save her, and now here they were.

“Is it time?” she asked.

He nodded. Emmereaux understood, of course. This had been his decision as much as it had been hers. How could one hope to rekindle a romance ten years dead?

“All the papers are in order. We need but sign them,” he said. “I’ve made certain you’ll have enough to live off of comfortably.”

She smiled a little. “And your peers? Are you not worried?”

For just a moment his eyes sparkled, and a coy smile stretched across his lips, and he looked his younger self again. “Oh, don’t worry about our reputation, my dear,” he said. “Eliane will have us covered.”

[dyslexicandakeyboard]

Some books I like to think Jason has read.

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

The Hunchback of Notre-Dame by Victor Hugo

Les Miserables by Victor Hugo

The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy

A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess

Black Beauty by Anna Sewell

Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

Villette by Charlotte Bronte

[rhetoricandlogic]

THE LOST FUTURE OF PEPPERHARROW by Natasha Pulley

RELEASE DATE: Feb. 18, 2020

M ore steampunk adventures of a samurai prognosticator, his clockwork octopus, and his human lovers.

Five years after her charming debut novel, The Watchmaker of Filigree Street (2015), Pulley brings back the main characters for another scramble through the dangers and consequences of clairvoyance. Readers of the first book already know the big reveal: that Keita Mori—the eponymous London watchmaker—has an unusual memory that works both backward and forward. (Readers new to the series should put this book down and start with Watchmaker.) This time Pulley sets the action principally in Japan, where Mori; Thaniel Steepleton, a British translator and diplomat; Grace Carrow Matsumoto, a physicist; and Takiko Pepperharrow, a Kabuki actress and baroness, are working together to foil a samurai’s power grab and turn away a Russian invasion. At least, that’s what Mori’s doing; the others are rushing blindly down paths he’s laid out for them, which may or may not get them where he wants them to go. But if Mori knows what’s coming and what steps they can take to change the future, why doesn’t he just tell them what to do? The answer is half satisfying (because, as in any complicated relationship, communication isn’t always easy; because the characters have wills of their own and might not obey) and half irritating (because if he did, there wouldn’t be much of a story). Pulley’s witty writing and enthusiastically deployed steampunk motifs—clockwork, owls, a mechanical pet, Tesla-inspired electrical drama—enliven a plot that drags in the middle before rushing toward its explosive end. Perhaps more interesting than the plot are the relationships. The characters revolve through a complex pattern of marriages of passion and convenience, sometimes across and sometimes within genders and cultures, punctuated by jealousy and interesting questions about trust.

Although this sequel doesn’t break new ground, it will appeal strongly to fans of the first book.

[bradrcook]

Behind the Iron Door Steampunk Short Stories Brad R. Cook

The Baroness Touch the Stars Doomed Flight of the Majestic A Clockwork Heart The Legend of Spring-Heeled Jack and a bonus flash fiction Available in paperback, stories available individually as ebooks

Order online or from my favorite indie bookstore Amazon | B&N | Main Street Books

[youve-cath-to-be-kitten-me]

🍁 (i have no idea if i sent this before; if i have i'm sorry if i haven't here you go!)

You did! But let me tell ya, im THRILLED to get a second ask from you, Val! This one’s from a Wesper one shot, set post-Crooked-Kingdom!

———

Wylan throws himself against the crates, pressing himself as flat as he can, but he can’t fully protect himself from the bullets. There’s limited ways to aim down the small space, so none of them hit him directly, but what feels like dozens of shots skim his body and face, leaving burning hot pain and bloodstains in their wake. And he can’t staunch the bleeding of any of them without putting himself directly in the line of fire. Wylan closes his eyes and thinks that this is perhaps the most shameful way to die. Hiding like a sewer rat. Kaz would read a lecture instead of a eulogy.

Just when he’s about to cry out for this to be over, a single gunshot comes from the other side of his hiding place.

And when Wylan turns his head towards the noise, he catches a glimpse of the silver barrel of one of Jesper Fahey’s pistols, residual gunpowder still smoking. A split second later, a dull thud sounds as the soldier collapses, a perfectly round bullet hole in the center of his forehead.

“As ravishing as the color is on you, I don’t particularly like it when it’s one of those filthy Dime Lions painting your clothing red,” Jesper says, offering a hand to pull Wylan out from behind the shipping crates.

Wylan flushes bright pink all the way to his ears and grips Jesper’s fingers as leverage to tug himself out of the space.

“It’s high time you arrived.”

Jesper’s answering grin is blinding, with a hint of something that makes something in Wylan’s chest pull taut.

[llilychen]

Gaby...how many sideblogs did you make?! My notifications! What did you do?! *raises eyebrow ridiculous high like in a movie*

i have several and i post something on them every once in a while because i really really don’t wanna get sacked again 👀

[khaleesiofalicante]

Oh, come on! Why don't you want to admit it? Weren't you the one you thought i was a secret witch after I made your character analysis of Isabelle Lightwood? Didn't you even wrote a poem stating it and also saying I was nobody's bitch? Come on, I know you remember. Val The Sorceress Supreme! Has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Bow to me, peasent! (Ok, no, I won't go that far, but please stop pretending I'm crazy! Or more crazy than usual. Whatever, have a nice day! Or night)

Okay fine, I'll admit it.

You have some crazy super power - or something.

I will get to the bottom of this!!!

[imissthefire]

A potato? Explain, please?

Buddy, I don't know what to explain. It's a simple vegetable to carve words into with a knife or key and easy to roll toward the one of my affection (or leave on her doorstep) and it won't leave a mess. Try that with a pepper or a lettuce or a celery stick. It won't work as well. Simple.

[blackthornkisses]

Is a Sorcery of Thorns good? I have had it in my TBR for weeks now but I don't know anyone who has read it.

i’m on chapter three and so far it has been great! it’s very bookish (?) and there is a kingdom and loooots of magic. it basically consists of all of my favorite elements so i might be a bit biased. oh well. you should really give it a try :)

[dru-and-ash]

💖,💝,💟,💞making morgenthorn theories and headcanons.

💖 - I admire you

I have no idea why but I am grateful for your love and friendship Val 😊

💝 - Love seeing you on my dash

🙈🤗 Thank you for my mess off a blog

💟 - How are you so cute

👀 I can ask the same thing to you too

In fact I did 😉

💞 - You’re amazing at ______

Morgenthorn deserves so much more love and appreciation than I could ever make posts about

I believe you would agree on that too

They're such babies 😍

A little Morgenthorn for you

His peaceful forest green eyes turns into war bringing storms every time he looks at her this way. These were the moments that reminded her how powerful he really was but that never intimidated Dru she was used to being around powerful people. And she understood the song of Ash's storm wasn't that storm what called her to him in the first place? Matching with her own loneliness in the crowds,calling herself lonely didn't meant like betraying her friends and amazing family at this point. Something about her didn't matched with any of the people around her sometimes. Those times when she was in the middle of crowds were the times she felt most lonely then Ash came to her world to her life and that feeling was gone.

[maxidentally]

The salt shaker for The Lunar Chronicles.

Favourite characters: Cinder (she’s a badass how can you not) and Kai

Least favourite characters: Levana and Aimery

OTP: It’s close but I think I have to go with Winter/Jacin because Winter deserves all the love in the world

NOTP: Apparently people ship Kai/Levana??? I aw a post about it or something a long time ago

BrOTP: Thorne and Cinder. Their sass is incredible

My favourite book: Winter definitely. I managed to get through it in 3 days!

A ship I don’t understand: Obviously the Kai/Levana thing, but to throw in some tea I used to not understand Scarlet/Wolf. That’s over luckily, but if I had to pick a current ship it would be Evret/Levana. I know some people think of it as a loving marriage, but I think that Evret deserved better than her. He and Winter seemed so close knit from the flashbacks in the final book.