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bobabees · 2 years ago

Note

hey i saw that your orders are open, and i want to order Frederick with a conductor reader

“I Just Wanna Be Part Of Your Symphony”

A/N: i unfortunately don’t know much about the profession, but i hope this is good enough! I kinda lost myself in a ramble writing this so skbdnsbdnnd ┐(￣ヮ￣)┌

Genre: Fluff

Frederick Kreiburg X Conductor Reader

Finally! Someone as passionate about music as he is!

He greatly admires your fervour for the art of music, the way you put your soul into your movements that seemed so fluid—he could watch you for hours, especially when you try and direct Antonio, Luca, Freddy, and Ganji for the next upcoming performance.

You always did seem to be excited for those, rambling on and on about ideas you had with the other survivors

It intrigued him greatly, so much so, that he wanted to join the quaint band.

But he was nervous.

He didn’t know why he was, in all his years of playing the piano, not once had he ever felt nervous about playing in front of so many people—and even if he had, he was strong enough to push past it

But this? It was different. You were different. He couldn’t quite place it—was it your seemingly bursting passion? Was it because of the fact you had a hunter in the group? Was it because he was afraid to disappoint everyone should he ever play in front of them? To disappoint you? You, who seems to view music as something more than what it is—to see it as something so ethereal?

Despite his reluctance to join your band, the moment you heard of what he used to do before the manor, the moment you found out that he played the piano, that he was a composer—you went off to find him.

And now, here he was, sitting in the practice room, with you telling him more and more about your group.

“I’m honestly finding it hard to believe that such a place would even be allowing such entertainment,” you laughed at his words, it was such a beautiful and charming sound, like a song he could never get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried.

“Oh, it took a while for us to convince Mr DeRoss to grant permission, but it worked!” Your words were filled with pure joy as you retold the story of the arduous challenges you and the others faced as you desperately tried to tell him how much entertainment was absolutely necessary for the sanity of both hunters and survivors, “Music, I believe, is a vital part of our lives. At least, for me it is. It’s a way for us to express emotions that we could never have done with just words, and for us to connect with people we never thought we would—I mean, I was terrified of Antonio when I first met him, he is a hunter, after all.” A nervous giggle escaped your lips, “and it was hard to look past the kind of—eerie grin he had or all the times he chased after me in matches…“ a shiver ran down your spine as you tried to suppress the memories of Antonio practically dragging you to the chair, or the times you couldn’t escape the notes he flung towards you.

��But the moment I heard him humming such a lovely tune—the moment I had the opportunity to actually listen to the music he played outside the matches—beneath such a terrifying exterior, was an artist—“ you whispered at the last word, stars glimmering in your eyes as you looked towards the small group of musicians before you. “We all are—and I want people to be able to express that parts of themselves instead of living in fear constantly, sure, we may have willingly come here and maybe knew what we were getting into—but we’re human. We need to express ourselves. This is just one of those ways. I mean—Look how happy they are.”

Frederick slowly followed your gaze, his eyes taking in every inch of the view before him; Luca’s eyes were furrowed as he focused on the melody that was being played from Freddy’s trombone, his fingers twitching above the keys as he tried to figure out a euphony that fitted it. Ganji playing his bansuri, the typically irate and vigorous batter was calm as he played the instrument from his culture, his shoulders sagged as he leaned against the cushions of the couch, his eyes half-lidded, and he swore he could see the corner of his lips tilted up in a smile. And there stood Antonio, a much gentler smile on his face as he—or well, his hair, played the violin, a low hum accompanying the tunes that echoed through the room.

“It’s fascinating, isn’t it?”

He turned to you, his heart nearly stopping at the way you smiled, “Music unifies us all, one way, or another, it’s one of the most beautiful creations man has ever made. It flourished far beyond our expectations, with different genres, subgenres, with using instruments from all around the world—even using things that weren’t meant to be instruments!” You laughed once again, and he couldn’t help but lean closer as if wanting to hear more of it. “It’s such a powerful thing that can bring us emotions that even we couldn’t hope to understand, it can bring memories of the past—or perhaps even an image of the future. This is what I told Mr DeRoss, and he seemed convinced enough after that since he permitted us to perform at least once a month. We’ve come a long way since then.”

He pursed his lips, holding onto his tuning fork tightly as he looked back at the small group of people—people he never thought could play such melodies. “And you dragged me here because…?”

“Because I figured that you wanted a chance to play your music. I thought offering you a space to express yourself would make you feel more at ease here.” You explained, placing your hand on his and giving him a reassuring smile. “So, what do you say? Do you want to join us?”

Frederick’s mouth gaped slightly, the words hanging on the tip of his tongue as he questioned himself for a moment. A soft sigh left his lips, “As much as I would love to,” he began “I’m afraid I am not as good as I was before, I do not want to dampen any of your performances-“

He heard a light scoff, pulling your hand away—he was sure you were going to leave the moment he rejected your offer. But instead, you gently nudged your elbow against his arm, “Nonsense, I’m sure you’re great—and besides, that’s why we practice, right?” You grinned “You don’t have to be the best of the best, that’s not what this is about. It’s about expressing yourself, playing to your heart's content, playing your music the way you want to.” You seemed so sure of your words, it contrasted so greatly with the people in his life who slowly abandoned him over time as his skills declined. His knuckles began to grow a bright red as he gripped the tuning fork tightly, “So?”

“I—“ His voice fell slightly, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a moment before looking into your eyes. Those eyes seemed to radiate with a fire that burned for your love for music and the arts, and the certainty that he was good enough. “I’d be honoured to join this group of yours—“

“That‘s great!” You clasped their hands together, excitement bubbling in your voice as you slipped off your seat, the weight next to him lightening as you offered a hand for him to take, “Now, come! We must introduce you before we practice!—“

“Wait—we’re practising now?!”

“Of course! What better time than now?”

It was like he had strapped himself to a rollercoaster, with no idea where it was going, when it was going to stop, and how long it was going to go for. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it.

He adored the way your group bickered at times, the way they all seemed to have such different ways to play and yet played so beautifully the moment you came in to try and organise everything.

He cherished the way you and the others applauded him and smiled when he helped with composing the music you would play, and how he would practice with Luca in playing the piano, even creating what he would consider was one of the best pieces he has played. He never knew how amazing it would feel to play with someone else.

There were some mistakes here and there, and you always seemed to be able to calm yourself and make a light joke of it as you encouraged the others it was alright.

It was he, who made most of the mistakes the moment he joined the group, but he wasn’t entirely to blame. You should take some of it—he was constantly distracted by the fluidity of your movements, the way you swayed with each note that played, the smile that graced your face when you conducted with your baton.

Even in matches, when you two would decode together, he would find himself so mesmerised with the way you still spoke about music.

Oh, when you spoke of music. You were so passionate, it was like a fire he couldn’t control, the moment the topic was mentioned, you would go on a ramble about it. The history of it all, the beauty of it all.

And how you quelled his fears the moment he first stepped on that stage with the others, you stood before him with that encouraging smile and began to conduct—and maybe it was simply because you faced away from the crowd and was in front of him, but it felt like it was just you and him in the stage. Like it was another one of those practice sessions you all would have.

By the heavens above, did he love those moments.

The times you two would laugh at the small mistakes you both would make, how you playfully sang as he played, how he would teasingly mock you by swinging your baton around whilst you scolded him and tried to snatch it back as Luca and Antonio laughed from afar.

For the first time, in a long time, he felt excited to play the piano. And not just for the validation of those who came to watch him play—but because he truly enjoyed it.

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