A profile picture design (or illustration...?) I made for an Infinite Blue-related contest hosted by Velvet Fox back in June. I initially made concepts for all of the LIs and then let the Blooming Panic's Discord server decide which one they liked the most (and I suppose y'all can take a wild guess who it ended up being haha)
I wanted to create something that'd mirror the softness to Alexei's character and create a dreamlike, yet credible scenery.
Alt version without the rendering because I'm not super happy with how that's been done.
..and an even more stripped version. Just because. ^-^
This is my first Infinite Blue fic, after playing the wonderful demo that got recently released! Brooklyn immediately captured my heart within the one-day game, and with some inspiration from those on the Blooming Panic server, wrote this!
Enjoy! ~1.1k words
It had taken you a long time to feel comfortable meeting Brooklyn. And even longer to feel comfortable to go see his home. When you finally got to see it, it almost made you regret taking so long.
His home was wonderful. Everything was kept in amazing condition, no matter what condition they entered the home in. When you first visited, he talked for hours about his favorite antiques and how he got them to their current condition compared to how they’re found. It was wonderful listening to him talk about the transformations some of them would go through.
After a few visits to his home, Brooklyn was getting used to you being there. It didn’t change the fact how much he adored you being there, however. He would make sure to have your favorite tea prepped and ready to be made, right in his favorite tea set.
This time, the tea was already cold when rain started to thud heavily against the window panes of the sitting room. It made Brooklyn look up from where he had been cleaning up the coffee table of any mess from the snacks you two enjoyed together.
“Ah… Looks like I should get you home soon.” He was sad to even think about it, as he didn’t want this time together to end. He enjoyed your presence, even if neither one of you had anything to say. He had been starting to realize that the mansion felt a bit… lonely right after your visits.
Maybe… He could suggest you staying the night? He had guest rooms, but he didn’t wish to push boundaries. While you had been visiting a lot, he would find himself wondering what it would be like for you to stay there.
“Oh… I hope you don’t mind, Brooklyn, but could I stay the night?” Surprise and a small bit of delight filled him at hearing your question. “I don’t want to intrude, but I heard it might storm badly tonight.”
“No, no, I don’t mind at all. I have plenty of guest rooms for you to choose from.” When seeing your relieved smile, his heart couldn’t help but melt a bit. He would do anything to continue seeing that smile.
Which reminded him of one thing he had been looking forward to.
“Since you will be staying for longer, I could play some piano for you.” Brooklyn offered, making your eyes light up.
“Oh, that sounds wonderful! I didn’t know you played piano.”
“I learned when I was younger. I continued playing because of how many of my favorite classical songs are piano.” He stood from his chair and offered you a hand, gentlemanly as always with the small smile on his lips. The smile widened a bit when you took his hand.
He guided you out of the sitting room and up the main foyer staircase as he continued. “I play a few other instruments, but I prefer the piano. I have one that's kept upstairs near the bedrooms, so I can play it if I cannot sleep.”
You nodded, immediately seeming curious on what he would play. He gave your hand a small squeeze, settling for that over patting your head.
The room that he led you into was just as stunning as the rest of his home. Large, floor to ceiling windows lined one wall. The sound of the rain was louder now, appearing as waterfalls on the panes, making the storm clouds and slowly growing strikes of lightning unclear.
On another wall, a large fireplace was unlit, but Brooklyn was already heading over to get one started. When the flames were gently roaring, it cast warm lighting and long shadows across the room, better revealing the grand piano in the center. Its lid was lifted, allowing a glance inside to see the strings.
Once he had made sure the fire wouldn’t die out anytime soon, Brooklyn walked over to the piano and sat on its bench. He looked over to you, beckoning you closer with a hand, before patting the seat beside him. It made him relieved to see how quickly you sat down with him, nearly shoulder to shoulder.
“Do you have a song you’d like to hear?” He watched your expression closely as he rested his hands over the keys, ready to play whatever you like.
“Oh, um, I can’t think of any you might know off the top of your head…” He chuckled a bit at your hesitance.
“That’s alright. How about I play some of my favorites, then?” You immediately agreed with nods of your head, making him look back to the keys.
A soft, slow song started to fill the room, slowly overpowering the sound of rain and the crackling fire. His eyes were half lidded as he watched his fingers hit the right keys of the song he had played so many times before. His heart guided them more than his brain at this point.
One song turned into two. Two turned into four. He lost count after the two of you stopped murmuring to one another, although he remembered missing a key when you rested your head on his shoulder. He was able to play it off luckily, but it took a while for his heart to calm down afterwards.
By the time it had, he glanced down to you, only to pause in his playing. Your breath had slowed and eyes closed, head rested on his shoulder as if it was your preferred pillow. The sight of you dreaming so peacefully made his heart swell.
He admired you for a few moments longer, how stunning your features looked in the two different lightings. Warmth from the fire lit the right side of your face, while the left lit occasionally from the lightning strikes outside. He wanted to memorize how this moment looked and felt, to look back on.
When Brooklyn realized he had been staring, he carefully wrapped his arms around you, bringing you closer to his chest. He slowly stood with you, carrying you delicately with your head above his heart.
He carried you across the hall to a guest bedroom, trying his best to not wake or stir you. He would hate it if he interrupted a wonderful dream of yours. Especially when he could see the hint of a smile on your lips.
He settled you carefully under the covers of the bed, tucking you in soon after. He couldn’t help but pause, then reach out and pet you head.
“Goodnight… Sweet dreams, my dear. May your dreams be as joyful as you’ve made my days.”
No worries if you can't answer this (for spoilers or just because None Of Our Business), but is Alexei written to be autistic, by any chance? I see so many similarities (hyper-specific interests, sensitivity to textures, trouble navigating social cues) that it would only heighten my adoration to know he's like me and the people I love 💛 Regardless, thank you for bringing such a wonderful character to life, and I'm so excited to see more of him in the future!
I can't answer this right now, but I'm very happy that you relate to him on some aspects 💛😊
🔵 Here’s a little BLUESDAY inspiration from our Asian art collection, currently on view in Infinite Blue.
These ornaments were not worn in the ear itself, but appended to a Tibetan woman’s headdress near the ears to frame the face. They served to demonstrate her personal wealth and social status. The most highly prized, sky-blue turquoise originated from mines near Nishapur in Khorosan, Iran, and was traded to Tibet via India; darker colored turquoise came from both Tibet and China. The color turquoise was important to Tibetans as a reference to the sky and lakes, while the mineral turquoise was thought to have powers that added to its appeal as a material for personal adornment. According to the Blue Beryl, an important Tibetan medical treatise written by Sangye Gyatso (1653–1705), turquoise had healing properties: an antidote for poison and a cure for diseases, including liver ailments
Pair of Women’s Ear Pendants, 17th–18th century. Tibet. Silver inlaid with turquoise. Gift of the Ernest Erickson Foundation, Inc., 86.227.43a-b
The lovely itograpes from the blooming panic server said I could write this, and oh boy, did I go overboard and possibly off the main idea. This is also from Brooklyn's perspective, so you're able to see his emotions almost fully!
Enjoy! ~2.5k words
Brooklyn had been serving as your butler for quite a long time. Since your public debut at 18 had been in planning. He remembered entering the palace, wondering how long it would take him to be your butler, if at all, only to be appointed the role within the month.
Most of high society, along with Brooklyn himself, wondered how he got appointed the role so quickly. Sure, he was the son of a Marquess, but he hadn’t expected his rank to rise so quickly to be considered the Crown Royal’s new butler. He was honored, however, and continued to appreciate it every day.
At the beginning, rumors surrounded him. “Favoritism” some nobles would whisper behind their fans, thinking of how the Marquess was a cousin of the Queen. “Bribe” others would say with a sour look on their faces, talking about despite the title, his house was as rich as a Duke’s. Some would outright turn their backs to him as he approached.
He felt it was stupid to allow their words get under his skin. He had been raised in and taught about high society and its rules. Instilled in his mind that he shouldn’t allow the sharp tongues and sly ways of other aristocrats to get stuck in his mind. He would need a sharper tongue and be as sly as a fox to survive fully in high society.
Yet there he was, inside a small sitting room, taking a breather while you attended one of your lessons. He had gone out of his way to make sure it was a sitting room no one else frequented. He didn’t wish for any rumors about him being too weak for the job to spread. Let alone for the elder butlers and maids to see him like this.
So it made him jump up to his feet when he heard the door creak open. Surprise and some anxiety filled his chest when seeing it was you peaking your head through. The anxiety built when your expression was clearly worried, with your brows furrowing deeper as you stepped inside the room, closing the door behind you.
“Your Highness, I thought you were still in your lesson. I apologize, I must’ve taken more time than I thought.” Brooklyn composed himself as much as possible to say those words, pulling on the bottom of his vest to straighten it. “I’ll get everything for your next meeting–”
“No, no, don’t worry about that Brooklyn.” You raised one hand to stop him. “I’m more worried about you. Are you alright?”
His shoulders stiffened. Oh no. You had caught on. He had hoped he was doing his best to hide how the rumors were affecting him. For you to not only notice, but also feel the need to talk to him about it…
“I apologize, Your Highness.” He bowed to you, resting his hand over his heart. “I see I’ve failed in part of my job as your butler. I swear to do better in the future.”
“Brooklyn…” You approached him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Please raise your head.”
Brooklyn hesitated. He wished to follow your orders to the exact. But he also didn’t want to know what your expression might be right then. He didn’t know if worry or disappointment would be worse to see in your eyes. He took a moment to lift his head, meeting your eyes when you didn’t continue talking.
Worry. Genuine, deep worry.
“You have not failed at your job. Anyone would have this reaction from the rumors surrounding this. I apologize that when appointing you, I didn’t take this into account.” Brooklyn opened his mouth to protest, but you lifted your hand once more to stop him. “I should’ve given it more time. But do not worry. This will all pass and be left behind once high society has caught their new favorite rumor. And I will never, ever regret appointing you.”
“...Thank you, Your Highness. I deeply appreciate your worry about me. It reassures me that eventually, this will all blow over.” His anxiety was completely gone with those few words. It shocked him how well they put his worries to rest. He nearly thought himself as a fool, worrying about such things.
“Of course. I should’ve spoken with you about this sooner. I will do better to keep this incident in mind if I think about doing something similar. I don’t want my decisions to negatively affect you.”
“That's very kind of you, but that is my job as your butler.” He protested, his voice firmer now. “I shall handle all that comes with being your hands and feet. Had I had the skills, I would be your sword and shield.”
This caused you to chuckle, causing the tension in the air caused by the heavy topic to be lifted a bit. It made him grateful that you could find amusement in such things.
“There's no need for you to also be my sword and shield. You have more than enough work as is. Which means that while you are here to help me with my work, it does not give you a pass to overwork yourself. Got that?”
The corners of his lips lifted, and he nodded once more. “Of course, Your Highness.”
From that day on, it felt more that the two of you were friends than employer and employee, despite how formal the conversation was. Brooklyn would have to constantly remind himself that he could not treat you as an equal, even though he very much wanted to. No matter how many times you made him forget it from the laughter shared and stories told.
After a year, the two of you knew all the spots the other would hide in when not wanting to face your respective duties. The garden was a common spot, where he would find you attempting to climb the large tree that was nearly as tall as the palace’s third floor. He would have to convince you every time to keep to the lower branches, before talking about some of the histories of the flowers surrounding the two of you.
By year three, you had gained a routine, where if there was an empty slot in your schedules, you would sit together. Of course, Brooklyn protested at first about sitting as your equal, but you were stubborn. He would prepare the tea, but you always insisted on pouring his cup stating, “You always pour mine, every single day for the past three years. Let me have this once.”
The marriage talks became worse after he had been working for you for seven years. You would ask him to give him tea lessons on particularly bad days, like today.
“How about a blooming tea today, Your Highness?” He asked, already carting in the clear-glass teapot with floral tea cups. He would make a show about the blooming tea days, as it allowed him to also involve floral arrangements easier.
“That sounds wonderful, Brooklyn. Thank you.” You lifted your head from where you had it previously rested on the desk. The tired look in your eyes from having to go through marriage talks once again made his heart ache. He had found that for the past couple years, any mention of the marriage talks weighed heavy on his mind.
“Perfect. I have jasmine blooming tea ready to be prepared, and fresh flowers I can cut and arrange.” He stopped the cart right beside the coffee table, watching as you moved from your desk to the loveseat, even if not the most upbeat.
“You always know how exactly to lift my spirits. What are the flowers of today?” Ah, the awaited question. He smoothly smiles, hoping that this was the best way to go about this. He couldn’t think of any other way that you would accept it as genuine, even if it took you longer to figure out.
“A red bouquet today. But you will have to do your own research on what the flowers are and what they mean.” He set the blooming tea pod in the clear pot of hot water before moving on to the flowers. Red carnations were the main stars today, with some white and red chrysanthemums to complement them.
“Awww, I was hoping to hear my dear butler’s knowledge about flowers today…” You sound sad, but just from a glance up, Brooklyn could tell you were teasing. He held back a chuckle, knowing you would always attempt to get him to reveal it so you wouldn’t have to do the work of finding out the meanings. Most days, it worked.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness. While I have entertained it until now, today I will not fill in the research. It is an important bouquet, however.” He shrugged off his uniform coat, rolling up his sleeves to just past his elbows. He didn’t wish to get his sleeves wet or have a cut stem fall down one. He kept his gloves on as he started prepping the stems for a vase.
“I can’t do anything to change your mind, can I?” He could hear the pout in your voice. “I really enjoy hearing you talk about flowers, though… Seeing your eyes brighten up as you delicately prepare them for the vase. I can see how much you love flowers.”
Oh goodness. You were playing with his heart strings now. He kept focus, thanking his childhood for teaching him how to control his facial expression. If he didn’t have the control he had, he would have a big smile across his face right now.
“I… do not know how to respond to that, Your Highness.” Brooklyn was honest about that, he was finding it difficult to find words to describe how he felt. He just knew that his heart had picked up the pace.
“Oh? Have I finally figured out a way to fluster my gentlemanly butler?” He glanced to you to see you had perked up in your seat, eyes bright, leaning more toward him.
“...Possibly. You… Have a knack for trying to find these things.” He paused to glance at the tea, seeing it had fully bloomed and steeped long enough. He started making your cup, just how you liked it as always.
“I will take that as a definite yes.” He could hear you giggling at that, and tried not to focus on that sound too much. He finished making your cup, setting it in front of you smoothly. He hesitated at thinking about making his own cup.
“You can if you like, Your Highness. Will… you be making my cup today?” You nodded immediately at his question, standing and coming to his side. Brooklyn stepped aside as he quietly watched you make his cup.
This moment… felt right, somehow. He knew he shouldn’t have a royal pouring his cup of tea, with the difference of status and all, but it just felt right. He’d be ridiculed if anyone saw this, but between just the two of you, it was… wonderful.
It reassured him that maybe this flower arrangement won’t be too much, or stepping out of his bounds as your butler. And if it did end up being too much… he would not speak a word of it again.
“Here you are, Brooklyn. Just how you like, hopefully.” Upon hearing your voice once more, he was able to focus more on you. He smiled a bit at seeing how bright and hopeful you looked, waiting for him to taste and see if it was correct. He took the cup, taking a sip.
Despite having this cup a million times over, it always tasted better when you poured it.
“You got it exactly right. Down to the amount of honey. Thank you.”
He wished he could have a portrait of the expression you had when hearing that. He did his best to put it to memory as he finished arranging the flowers while the two of you enjoyed peaceful silence.
The arrangement stayed on the coffee table in a beautiful vase for a long time after that day. They were able to stay until the day before the ball that was meant for you to meet suitors. The ball that Brooklyn was starting to dread more and more with every passing moment.
He wasn’t able to be at your side while you were getting ready, or escort you to the ball himself. He was stuck waiting within the ballroom, his best formal clothes on. He was dressed equal to how other nobles were, his suit more resembling something seen on a prince than his butler uniform. His family’s golden crest was the same color as his eyes, placed right over his heart.
The sound of the ballroom was nearly deafening. He could barely hear the music over the sound of chatter. He could hear the whispers of rumors already starting, despite the royal family not entering yet. Will the Crown Royal marry? Will the Crown Royal ever take a lover?
It made him sick to hear.
But everything fell away as the entrance trumpets started. The world no longer existed as he watched you slowly walk through those grand doors.
All Brooklyn saw was you, looking your absolute best, glowing. Dazzling. The definition of stunning. You were all he continued to see as you walked down the steps to the ballroom floor. Memorized how the golden lighting of the chandeliers made you shine.
It came crashing down when he saw another man approach you. His heart felt like it was being ripped out as you accepted the dance. He couldn’t tell whether you wanted to dance with the man or not.
He continued to be unable to tell as suitor after suitor approached you for a dance. With every acceptance, the more he felt he would never be your lover. That he would never be able to hold your hand, hold you close, let alone call you his lover.
Was he only ever going to be your butler? Your loyal servant who will follow you to the ends of the earth, but watch you marry another person? While that is what he agreed to in the beginning. Back when he never imagined he would have these emotions, this deep of a connection with someone, a love so deep for someone.
His hope was nearly gone when a dance finished, and you said goodbyes with your current dancing partner.
An opening.
Putting all his hope on the line, he quickly started to approach. His heart was twice the pace of the music, but he was somehow able to keep a semblance of composure. He could feel the pressure doubling with every step, as did the eyes that were watching him.
Brooklyn did not stop until he was right in front of you. He bowed, daring to take your hand in his. He brought his lips to your knuckles, lifting his eyes to yours.
“Would you honor this Sir Hayes with a dance, Your Highness?”
A heart beat. Then that smile he adored so much appeared on your lips.
