Living Clocks of Garreg Mach [FE3H Mass Hypno TGTF]

[This story contains transformation, hypno, mind alteration, corruption, situational horror, mind fuckery, identity death, and a ‘bad’ ending. All characters depicted are 18+]

[This story takes place near the end of White Clouds - Black Eagle route, and does not contain any story spoilers for Fire Emblem Three Houses or Fire Emblem Three Hopes]

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NOTE: The formatting got a bit messed up in places when I transferred this to patreon. I think I've fixed it all now though.

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Archbishop Rhea smiled menacingly as she stared up at her newly-completed masterpiece: Garreg Mach Monastery's brand new clock atop the Tower of the Goddess.

To anyone else, it was simply an ornate way of keeping the time, but Rhea of course had more sinister plans in store for it. At its heart, the clockwork mechanisms were fitted to a pulsing, magical stone. Rhea had imbued the stone with ancient, forbidden magic with the intent to hypnotise and enthral the masses. Using the clock tower as a transmission device, Rhea was convinced that she could alter the minds of everyone in Fodlan to be submissive, obedient drones who would do her bidding without a second thought. What's more, she wanted all to lust for her divine form and worship her as a goddess.

"'O lovely Rhea, your divine beauty is too radiant for this world! Please, O gorgeous Archbishop, accept me unto your mercy for all eternity!'" Rhea mused to herself.

Just imagining hordes of horny, obedient citizens craving her attention sent her into a heat. The Archbishop felt a wet spot appear in her panties and her hand quivered as it moved on its own towards her crotch.

But a knock on her chamber’s door jolted her back into composure.

“Lady Rhea, the monastery’s new clock tower is about to be activated.” Seteth’s voice was dampened by the thick wooden door.

“Ahem. Thank you Seteth, but I shall remain here and watch from my balcony.”

After a short pause, he responded. “As you wish, your Grace.”

The leader of the Church of Seiros stepped out to her balcony and gazed up at the brand new monument to her vanity. At precisely 11:00 in the morning, the giant clock was set in motion.

“Ahhh, music to my ears~” Rhea purred. “Soon, all shall bow tick my majesty~”

The green-haired woman paused.

“*To.* They shall bow *to* my majesty. That was an odd tick for me to say… *Thing!* *Thing* for me to say! What in the name of the Tockess- *Goddess!*”

Grabbing her attention again, her panties were beginning to soak in her divine juices as her libido soared.

“Nnng, wh-what!? I am the Archbishop, I am above such tick tock-!” Saying “tick tock” sent a warm surge throughout her body and made her pussy squirt harder than it ever had before. “Such tick-! Such tick-!! Nnng, tick, tock!”

After rushing back inside and slamming the door, Rhea’s shaky hands hastily removed her crown so she could hold her head. Each second that passed - which she could distinctly and precisely measure now - was agonising. There was a constant, piercing ticking in her mind that seemingly overwrote her thoughts.

“So… So hard to tick! Th-thi-think… Tock… Hard to tick-! Hard to tick-! Hard tick-!! Tick, tock. Tick, tock! Tick, tock...”

Wobbling over to her dresser, she stared into her lavish mirror to see a woman smiling back at her. She didn’t feel happy, yet she could see the grin on her face as clear as day - that is, when she wasn’t preoccupied saying ‘tick, tock.’

‘B-but my plan! Tick, tock! It was p-perfect! Tick, tock! How can tick affect me, tock!?”

Not only had Rhea not intended to fall victim to the clock tower’s magic herself, but she knew with certainty that these were not effects she imbued into that magical stone.

“Tick Agarthans, tock! What have tick done tock me!? Tick, tock!” Her voice held no anger at all, much to her own surprise - only that of pleasure.

And then, Rhea noticed something in the mirror that nearly made her stop talking altogether. Her eyes shot down to see it with her own eyes: she was tenting her dress!

“B-but I don’t have a tick! -don’t have a tock!! Nnng-!!”

She frantically disrobed herself, leaving her stark naked in front of the mirror. Sure enough, she now had a big fat cock jutting out from between her legs! Her heartbeat had synchronised with her ticking and tocking, causing her hard prick to throb to the tempo of a clock. Despite being repulsed by the idea that she had such a body part of her own, she was far too horny to simply ignore it. Her hands grasped her new member and slowly rubbed it, back and forth in sync with each tick and tock.

“Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock! Nnng, tick, tock! Tick, tock!~”

The hypnotic tempo in her head began to overwrite emotions, too. Her anger faded, her disgust vanished, and her pleasure tripled. But no matter how much she stroked her needy cock, Rhea couldn’t find release. Her pleasure mounted, her dick swelled, but still she was stuck on the precipice of climax.

Again stumbling back to her mirror, she saw a new person reflected back at her. No longer was she looking at a person of flesh and blood, but at a living, humanoid clock made of plastic. The Archbishop had a permagrin painted onto her smooth face, which was ever so slightly rocking side to side with her head as it acted like a pendulum: with each tick, her head swung just a little to the left; with each tock, it swung just a little to the right. She could still speak her ticks and tocks despite not having a true mouth anymore, but details like that weren’t on her mind at present.

As the last of her old self slipped away, she caught one final change to her body before being consumed by timekeeping forevermore: Her pupils were warping and distorting themselves into the hands of a clock, and her green irises were becoming the clock faces!

Each clock face in her eyes told the precise time, perfectly matching that of the new clock tower. All that was on Rhea’s mind was ticking, pleasure, the promise of relief at the next hour mark…

And a burning desire for more clocks.

She wanted - no, NEEDED to be with other clocks like her! Ticking and tocking together, releasing in ecstasy every hour, keeping the time all the time… being a perfect little clock forever…

Clockwork Rhea couldn't wait!

—

Professor Byleth knew right away that something wasn't right - she couldn’t place a finger on it, but the world around her just felt off.

Her Sunday errands had gone as usual so far, but as soon as the clock tower chimed, a chill was sent down her spine. Finding herself uncharacteristically unnerved, Byleth decided it would be best to simply head back to her quarters and nap away her jitters.

Passing through the mess hall, the professor went from unsettled to on edge: there wasn’t a soul to be seen, and it was just after 11:00 AM. Even late at night, Byleth had never seen it completely vacated by even the kitchen staff.

“Professor! There you are!” A familiar voice called out from behind her.

Dorothea and Edelgard had followed Byleth with blissful smiles on their faces. This wasn't too abnormal in Dorothea's case, but it absolutely was in Edelgard's.

"I f-feel strange! Hee hee!" Edelgard giggled.

"Me too! I w-want to… n-need to… Nnng, so horny~" Dorothea warbled.

"...!" Byleth was speechless.

"D-Dorothea, your t-tock is ticking out! Hee hee!"

Looking down to her crotch, Dorothea saw her long, erect girlcock poking out from her skirt.

“Nnng, h-how did that slip out!? I tick I need to… N-need tock…” Trying to push it back under her skirt only made it throb harder and spurt a bit of precum.

“P-professor, y-you must assist us in ticking c-care of this g-growing… issue… Hee hee…?” Edelgard bit her lip as she adjusted her shorts, drawing attention to the bulge between her legs. “I-I promise I did tock have this- d-did NOT have this before! Hee hee hee~”

“Have I ever tock’d- t-told you how h-hot you are, professor?” Dorothea was drooling a little as she eyed up Byleth.

With that, the professor decided to turn back the hands of time to the start of the day to see if she could find the instigating event for this uncharacteristic behaviour…

…But nothing happened.

Eyes wide and breath short, Byleth held her head and tried with all her might to wield her power over time, yet still she couldn’t do it.

“Come with me.” Byleth said curtly, circling around the pair of women, placing a hand on each of their backs, and pushing them along with the intent of seeing them to the infirmary.

Dorothea gasped softly. “Y-you want us to c*m with you!? Oh professor! Tick, tock! Ahhh~”

“T-tick… Fight it… C-can’t… hee hee!~ F-fight… Tock!” Edelgard muttered as her hand slowly slid under her shorts and squeaky latex leggings.

As they entered the reception hall, the trio were greeted by the sight of Hilda and Marianne both frantically rubbing their nether regions.

Hilda had her skirt pulled up and her panties around her knees, and was fingering herself to the tempo of a clock. Her thumb circled her little clitty, but with each rotation it seemed to get less and less little. As it swelled and pushed against its owner’s thumb, Hilda’s light moans began to match the tempo of each second passing, then turned from indistinct squeaks to well-timed “tick, tock!”s.

Marianne, meanwhile, was faring a bit differently. Her own pretty little girlcock - which she had always had - was vibrating intensely and leaking rather fervently. Suddenly, though, the adorably tiny member swelled to ten times its original size in a fraction of a second! The shy woman’s already blushing face reddened even further, but was also graced with a hypnotically-induced smile.

“EEEP! Hee hee!! What on Earth is ha- happeni- Nnng, tick, tock!”

Running her hands along her new length sent a surge of sensation through her whole being which eliminated her resisting will. The usually reserved lady instantly went wild pumping her revamped girlcock with the ferocity of a beast. Her hands quickly glossed over, followed by her face, which lost its definition as the rest of her body became plastic.

“Tick, tock! Tick, tock! Tick, tock!” Hilda and Marianne chimed in unison.

“Tick, tock!” Dorothea joined in.

By now, Byleth had put two and two together. The day a new clock tower was activated was also the day people began to turn into perverted, living clocks? That was no coincidence.

Changing plans, the professor left the transforming women and bolted to the Tower of the Goddess.

On her way, Byleth passed by a number of other people, all of whom were affected by the clockification: Dedue gently suckled on Dimitri’s shrinking cock, then began to eat him out once it completed its change to a vulva; Mercedes was grinding her bulge against a handrail; Felix was topping Sylvain in the 69 position, each guy only taking breaks to breath and mutter “tick, tock”; even Claude was giggling giddily as his cock warped and changed into a dripping bussy.

Moreover, Byleth discovered it wasn’t just the students who were being affected: she followed a trail of hastily removed armour to find Shamir stroking Catherine’s hard-on in a disused room, and passed by Manuela sitting on a knight’s face as she ticked and tocked with a musical inclination.

By the time she reached the Tower of the Goddess, Byleth still hadn’t succumbed to the same fate as the rest of the monastery. Placing a hand to the crotch of her short shorts, the professor confirmed that she had not sprouted a penis without noticing. She couldn’t deny, however, that seeing all the lewd acts had turned her on just a little bit.

After one final climb up a wooden ladder, she had arrived at the inner workings of the cursed clock. Byleth unsheathed the Sword of the Creator and didn’t hold back. Unleashing the power of the Crest of Flames and the Holy Relic made quick work of the mechanical monstrosity, grinding the entire system to a halt. Just to be safe, she thought, Byleth decided to smash each clock face as well as the massive bell and all the accompanying chimes.

In the rubble, the magical stone Rhea created laid untouched - not that physical damage could affect it anyway. Thinking her work was done, the seemingly hypno-immune woman left the Tower of the Goddess in tatters without searching the debris.

Byleth rushed down to aid the mass of corrupted people, hoping that everyone had suddenly snapped out of it. The first people she came across were Shamir and Catherine, who were still in the spare room together.

“Tick, tock! Tick, tock! P-professor! H-h-help… tock…!” Shamir groaned with an impressive display of mental fortitude. Her mouth was halfway sealed over, her hair had fused into a solid mass of plastic, and one of her irises had become a clock face.

“Tick, tock! The time is now eleven thirty! Tick, tock!” Clockwork Catherine, on the other hand, had completely succumbed. Her entire body was made of smooth, glossy plastic, and a gleeful expression was painted on her otherwise featureless face. Her body could seemingly move just as freely as a flesh-and-blood creature, despite not having any joints - clockwork Catherine's hard plastic skin could bend and move, presumably thanks to whatever magic caused this to begin with.

"H-help, get me off! -OUT! Get-tick…! T-tick…!! Tick, tock! Tick, tock!"

"Tick, tock! Tick, tock!" Clockwork Catherine's head subtly tilted back and forth in beat with her ticks and tocks.

Byleth simply watched in horror as the uncorrupted half of Shamir’s face eased from a strained frown to a cheery grin, then melted into a flat plastic surface. A brief moment passed where Shamir had no details on her face before a bubbly paint job appeared out of thin air. The sniper now had an adorable little cock above her labia instead of a clitoris. It too glazed over with an artificial sheen, quickly followed by her dripping pussy lips. Shamir’s shaky hands steadied as they joined the rest of her body in becoming a plastic machination, finishing off her physical transformation - yet still a shred of her mind remained.

“T-tick, tockether forever! Prof-fessor, at least let- tick, tock! -us be tickgether…” Shamir reached out to her girlfriend clockwork Catherine with the last of her mental strength, then succumbed to timekeeping. “Tick, tock! Tick, tock! Tick, tock!”

The two knights’ motions were synchronised perfectly: two clocks precisely on time.

Now that they were empty, clockwork husks of themselves, the partners weren’t horny messes - merely horny drones. They were in control of their motor functions and began to readorn the clothes and armour they had so hastily removed not long ago. Their movements were smooth, almost natural even - or at least, it would seem natural were their movements not synchronised to each passing second. Though they were now clockwork life forms, they weren’t mechanical or robotic in their mannerisms - a fact which would have piqued Byleth’s curiosity if she weren’t currently horrified.

“...” Byleth shook her head and raced away, distraught that she hadn’t at least halted the corruption in its tracks. ‘What is

’ She thought. ‘And why is it not affecting me?’

The next person she ran into was Claude, who was still sitting legs-splayed in a pool of his own pussy juice, right where he was before.

“Teach, tock! Teach, t-tock! Tick, tock!”

The leader of the Golden Deer house had finished his physical transformation, yet his mind refused to give in just yet. As Byleth inched closer, she studied a transformed face in detail for the first time: his eyes were green clock faces marked with twelve notches around the outside and three hands. Though they appeared to be painted on, the clock faces on his irises were changing! The seconds’ hand was moving in sync with Claude’s ticks and tocks, and it could be inferred that the other hands could magically move too.

Considering what she had seen today, she shouldn’t have been surprised, but this minute detail somehow gutted Byleth. She believed the eyes were a window to the person within - which was why she generally avoided eye contact - and through Claude’s eyes she saw barely a sliver of life, on its last limbs, about to flicker out once and for all.

“Claude…” Byleth muttered.

“S-so… Tick, tock! H-horny… Tick, tock! Tick, tock!” At that, the last gleam of light in his eyes vanished. The empty husk got to his feet and began collecting his clothes, just as clockwork Shamir and clockwork Catherine had.

Without another word, Byleth again hurried away. Her hopes were all but snuffed out at this point, but still she persisted. If she could find just one other unaffected person then it meant she had a ray of hope to hold on to.

Before she realised it, her feet had taken her back to the reception hall. Waiting for her were clockwork Dorothea, clockwork Hilda, clockwork Marianne, and clockwork Edelgard, who were all fully-clothed again and were ticking in unison. Their lifeless, identical faces sent a shiver down her spine. Each permagrin plastered on their bodies gave off an uncanny vibe that both disturbed and aroused the professor.

Then, without warning, the four artificial women all pulled out their dicks, grabbed them with both hands, and climaxed!

“AH!” They all moaned together, shooting a load of jizz simultaneously.

“AH!” *Jizz*

“AH!” *Jizz*

“AH!” *Jizz*

“AH!” *Jizz*

“AH!” *Jizz*

“AH!” *Jizz*

“AH!” *Jizz*

“AH!” *Jizz*

“AH!” *Jizz*

“AH!” *Jizz*

“AH!” *Jizz*

After the twelfth shot of girlcum was released, they all tucked their dicks back into their clothes, still erect and bulging quite noticeably.

“Tick, tock! The time is now twelve o’clock!” They all said, then returned to their ticks and tocks.

Byleth’s mouth was agape. The mesmerising display she had just witnessed had, to her shame, turned her on completely. ‘How could I be into this!? N-no, now’s not the time, I just have to fix this!’

Steeling her resolve, the professor continued her search around the monastery for someone, anyone who hadn’t been affected.

—

That evening, Byleth had returned to her quarters disheartened and defeated. She couldn’t find a single person who hadn’t been clockified in all of Garreg Mach, and had tired herself out frantically running to and fro through crowds of mindless, smiling knights, students, and friends.

It seemed that, regardless of what genitals someone had prior to this event, every woman now had a girlcock and every man now had a bussy. As for non-binary people, Byleth couldn’t be sure. She did, however, know that Shamir and Claude were non-binary. Shamir had both a cock and a pussy immortalised in plastic after all her changes were complete, and Claude had just a vulva. For all she knew, non-binary people acquired a specific configuration depending on their individual gender in the process of becoming horny clock people.

“This makes no sense…” The former mercenary muttered to herself as she sat alone on her bed.

Then, she heard a chorus of “tick, tock!”s coming from outside. Byleth poked her head out the door and saw each student in front of their respective dormitory room doors. One room over, clockwork Dedue was unlocking his door, as were all the other students as far along the row of dormitories as she could see. Their movements all matched perfectly in sync with each other: turning their keys, removing their keys, turning their doorknobs, opening their doors, stepping inside, and then closing their doors behind them.

Then, seven muffled moans could be heard from the neighbouring room, followed by a very faint trace of Dedue saying “Tick, tock! The time is now seven o’clock!”

Thankfully, Byleth couldn’t hear the constant ticks and tocks, but in a way, that unnerved her a bit more than if she could.

At that moment, Byleth decided to leave the monastery to search for more uncorrupted people. Surely there had to be some sort of range limit to this curse… right?

She wasted no time, rushing to the stables, mounting a horse, and galloping off towards the nearest town.

—

Almost two weeks had passed. Everywhere she went, everyone was a clock - and it had just about driven her up the wall. Derdriu, Enbarr, and Fhirdiad… Small towns and major cities… Bandit encampments and bands of mercenaries…

Nowhere had been spared.

Byleth had had barely a wink of sleep over her travels, but when she did manage to get some rest, her nightmares had been consumed by ticking and tocking - even when camping in unpopulated areas. Her mind had been spinning from constant fatigue, and the horror story she was living through didn’t help either. Every night, she tried to remember her companions’ faces, but after a few days, they began to just melt together into that same artificial expression everyone now shared.

Everywhere she went, it was as if the clockwork drones were putting on a play: every action they made mimicked what a real person might do, but in their signature uncanny way. The machinations would cook meals, but sit down and ‘eat’ by simply moving cutlery back and forth between their plates and their plastic permagrins. They would sit in church, stand as if they were singing, and wait as if the priest were delivering a sermon - as opposed to just saying “Tick, tock!” over and over again. They would go about their day, show up at work to ‘do their jobs’, and return home if they had one. They would even lie in bed at night as if they were sleeping, yet their ‘eyes’ remained open as functioning clock faces, and their voices continued to echo “Tick, tock!” without fail. Perhaps one of the only genuine things they would do was wash their clothes. Byleth found this all out because, to them, it was as if she wasn’t there at all. None would respond to her voice, nor her presence. One night, she had even walked right past the guards and into the Imperial Palace in Enbarr!

Now, though, Byleth was returning to the Monastery. Her spirits were low and she desperately wanted to sleep in a familiar bed again - well, any sleep at all would be nice too. Besides, her best hope now was to inspect the clock tower again and see if she could reverse engineer what caused this mess to begin with.

—

Byleth returned to Garreg Mach around midday, exhausted and downtrodden. As she walked by the classrooms, she wearily glanced in and prayed she’d see familiar, human faces to greet her warmly. However, that was wishful thinking.

Clockwork Manuela was standing before her clockwork students in the Golden Deer classroom, as was clockwork Hanneman in the Blue Lions’ classroom. Byleth paused before reaching the Black Eagles’ classroom -

classroom. She shut her eyes, took a deep breath, then proceeded.

Her students were sitting in their usual seats, ticking away as they alternated between looking to the front of the classroom and taking notes. But there was, of course, nobody at the teacher’s desk.

Slowly making her way through the rows of desks, not a single clockwork person took notice of her - they were all acting as if they had their own hollow clockwork Byleth at the front of the room giving them a hollow, fake lesson. Standing next to clockwork Edelgard, the professor glared down at the notes she was taking, genuinely unsure what she would see.

“Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. …” Lines upon lines of “Tick, tock.”

“I should have known…” She muttered, then proceeded forward.

Once she reached her desk, with her back still to the class, things almost felt normal. Almost. She was dragged away from her fantasyland when her mind stopped subconsciously ignoring the chorus of ticking behind her.

As she reluctantly turned to face the lifeless horrors who used to be her pupils, an errant thought passed through her mind. ‘I could give in.’ As if to physically swat away that nonsensical thought, Byleth waved her hand in front of her face and gave her head a shake.

“I’m exhausted… that’s all… I just need to sleep…”

The seemingly last human in Fodlan dragged her feet as she returned to her room, which was just as she had left it. The woman clumsily slumped onto her bed, closed her eyes, and fell asleep almost immediately.

—

Byleth was awoken from her almost 16 hours of sleep - the first proper sleep she had in nearly two weeks - when a ray of sunlight peeked above her windowsill and struck her squarely in the eyes. Sitting up, she pulled her hair off her face and rubbed her eyes.

“Please tell me that was just a nightmare…”

Looking down on herself, she was still wearing her signature jacket, top, short shorts, and leggings ensemble from the previous day.

“No… Please no…” She whispered.

Stepping outside, Byleth couldn’t immediately see anyone around - it was just after sunrise, after all. She could, however, see the busted up clock tower she left in ruin, which confirmed her worst fears. In one final, futile attempt to deny reality, she pinched herself.

Checking once more, the clock tower was still ruined. She was in clockwork purgatory.

After washing up and changing clothes, Byleth made her way to the mess hall in the hopes that the clockwork cooks were as good as their human predecessors. At precisely 6:30, they began to serve breakfast, which, much to Byleth’s relief, was not only edible but tasty, too.

Taking her time, the professor observed the parodies of humanity go about their business from her seat. There were a handful of staff and students who had arrived at precisely 6:30, just a few minutes after Byleth arrived. More clockwork people arrived in waves at 6:45, 7:00 (which included seven org*smic clock chimes), 7:15, and finally, 7:30.

The world, quite literally, now ran like clockwork.

After her hour of breakfast and peoplewatching was over, Byleth returned to the ruined clock tower. Pulling out the Sword of the Creator, she shut her eyes and attempted to dowse for a source of magic.

Eventually, she found Rhea’s cursed stone.

—

Byleth spent ages trying to either destroy or counteract the stone. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months.

She had used the sparring grounds as the location of her destruction attempts, but she ended up destroying most of the grounds before so much as a dent ever appeared on the rock. Magic, potions, brute force, and Hero’s Relics were all no match for the magical artifact.

She had overturned the entire library studying magic and science, but to no avail. All leads quickly became dead ends.

All the while, she had to live with the ticking! The incessant ticking… She was surrounded by voices but there wasn’t a soul in sight. Before long, the professor actually began to look forward to the hour marks, if only to hear people say something other than “Tick, tock!” Though she wasn’t much for conversation before, she would give anything for a chat now.

Byleth had completely forgotten the faces of all her friends, save for Manuela’s: she found Ignatz’ portrait of the former songstress, and had immediately retrieved it. She cherished it, not just because it helped her remember a face, but also because it helped ground her at her low points. Firstly, it was proof that things weren’t always this way. It was proof that she hadn’t created a fictional past in her memories. Secondly, it helped to negate her unwanted thoughts. ‘Give in,’ they would say. ‘Join them,’ she would think. ‘Accept this,’ would ring through her head.

She was so lonely. She was all alone. All she wanted was her friends back - she wanted her life back.

—

She was so close to breaking now.

Months had nearly become a year, and still she had made no progress in saving everyone - but that almost didn’t matter anymore.

Byleth had returned to teaching her students, even if it was all just a way to fill her days. She learned the patterns in her students’ behaviours and inferred what they expected her to be doing at any given time. By now, she was accustomed to acting out her daily routine in such a way that it felt as if the clockwork horrors were truly interacting with her. Her tea times were almost normal, even: she could pass her guests objects, make jokes that got a fitting reaction, and even hold a conversation. Byleth had filled in the blanks of conversation with context clues the living clocks would make in their mannerisms, actions, and predictable timing.

Less and less of her time was dedicated to setting things back to the way they were, until finally she spent a mere hour per week trying to fix everything.

Then it happened…

—

Though last year’s ball on the anniversary of Garreg Mach’s founding wasn’t a particularly fun event for Byleth, she was nonetheless excited for it this year. After a year of hardships and loneliness, she was ready to let go and enjoy herself.

And the worst part about interacting with the living clocks? She didn’t even consider it ‘acting’ anymore.

Byleth had borrowed a sparkling violet dress from clockwork Manuela. Its long, asymmetric design covered one leg while leaving an opening for the other to be visible. It had no sleeves, only straps that went over her shoulders, but it did come with matching, equally sparkly opera gloves that were snug on her hands and extended past her elbows. Earlier that day, she rode into town and bought a pair of high heeled, black leather boots to complete her outfit.

Humming to herself cheerily, the professor observed herself in her mirror. She didn’t even notice that her head was tilting left and right to the rhythm of her tune. Her green hair was tied back in a wavy ponytail, and her rich violet lipstick had been applied perfectly - she had been practising just for this occasion, having never worn makeup before.

At (almost) precisely 5:25 PM, Byleth left her quarters and headed to the reception hall. She had begun to visualise the monastery as a place measured in travel time as opposed to distance, and was getting pretty good at coming and going in a timely manner. She arrived at the ball about three seconds before 5:30.

“Tick, tock! The time is now five thirty!” The plastic clockwork drones stated.

The hall filled up with perfectly on-time attendees in the blink of an eye, which made it difficult for Byleth to find the person she wished to dance with. As she shuffled through the crowd, clockwork people began to dance with a partner: clockwork Dimitri and clockwork Dedue, clockwork Felix and clockwork Sylvain, and clockwork Catherine and clockwork Shamir were quick to join in.

It thankfully wasn’t long before she found clockwork Dorothea, who was standing alone in the corner of the reception hall. “Dorothea! Oh Dorothea, there you are!”

“Tick, tock!” Clockwork Dorothea perked up, immediately walking over to her beloved teacher.

By now, Byleth had gotten pretty good at looking past the cheery “tick, tock!”s and forced permagrins to see how everyone really felt. Clockwork Dorothea had been in a lonely, melancholy mood until she announced her presence.

“Tick, tock! Tick, tock!”

Byleth blushed. “Why thank you, Dorothea! You look lovely too!”

“Tick, tock! Tick, tock!”

“Oh, I wasn’t just passing through. Hey, Dorothea, I was wondering… Would you care to dance? With me?”

“Tick, tock!” Clockwork Dorothea pressed her hands together excitedly.

A smile almost as big as the former songstress’ permagrin formed on Byleth’s face. “I’m so glad!”

She extended her hand for clockwork Dorothea to hold on to, which she gladly accepted. Byleth led her onto the dance floor, where together, they shared in each other’s company as they waltzed to their hearts’ content.

“Tick, tock! Tick, tock!” Clockwork Dorothea’s permanent smile, in this moment, felt genuine.

“I-!? Ahh!! I love you too!”

Clockwork Dorothea stood on her very tippy toes as Byleth leaned down and placed a loving kiss on her flat face.

“Tick, tock! Tick, tock!”

“Y-you’re right! I should… I should give in… Hee hee, then I could finally fit in! Y-yeah! Hee hee!”

“Tick, tock! Tick, tock!”

“I-! I-!! Nnng, tick, tock!”

“Tick, tock! Tick, tock!”

“Tick, tock, tick, t-tock!” In her excitement, Byleth was having a bit of difficulty keeping in tempo with everyone’s ticks and tocks.

But then, the clocks were about to strike 6:00. Everyone halted their dancing, dropped their hands to their crotches, and prepared to chime - including Byleth.

Just like the clockwork drones with vulvas, Byleth circled her clitoris in sync with each “AH!” she breathed. Unlike the clockwork drones, though, her pussy didn’t squirt precisely with each chime.

“AH!” *Circle*

“AH!” *Circle*

“AH!” *Circle*

“AH!” *Circle*

“AH!” *Circle*

“AH! AHHH! NNNG!!” On the sixth chime, Byleth reached a genuine org*sm, falling to her knees and losing composure.

“Tick, tock! The time is now six o’clock!”

“-Time is now six o’c-clock!!” Byleth desperately tried to state the time as a fellow clock, but couldn’t fight the pleasure. It was so, so good to give in! To stop fighting and just enjoy what she could…

However, as she tried to regain her composure, clockwork Dorothea had finished putting her girlcock away - and she didn’t wait up. Before Byleth could get to her feet, clockwork Dorothea had returned to her waltz stance and continued to dance as if she had a perfect, timely clockwork Byleth dancing with her.

Byleth was gutted. Just as she had begun to fit in, just as she had gotten the hang of her new life, just as she had given in… She fell back to reality. She was a human surrounded by automatons. They were clocks, and despite her deepest, darkest desires, she was not.

But after a moment on the floor, she hopped to her feet, put on a wide, fake grin, and caught up with her dance partner.

“Tick, tock! Tick, tock!”

The end?