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stubborn-society · 2 years ago

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Kam Theory: “everything that’s meant for me will come.”

Photo Credit: Kam Theory

Cheers, I apologize for being absent from my post. I’ve been busy af, then I got sick with covid for the first time. Take it easy on me, would you?

I’m so excited to be back. Things have been steadily moving along here at Grapefruit HQ. Our house is growing, and given the state of western civilization, I think everyone is more or less happy. I feel booked and blessed.

As is my style, I am bringing you fresh, new artists to keep your eyes and ears on before anyone else. I’m no paycheck patsy out here lazily sowing seeds for the machine. I’m just one woman, the boss, out here putting her BST in the game every day. Mark my words. This is a threat and a promise.

I’ve waited a long time to get this interview under my belt and it’s finally come to fruition I’m so stoked:

Another Friend of Grapefruit - this is the lovely and gifted Kam Theory. I’ve put her 2020 single, The Process, on 5 playlists already. Check it out for yourself.

Hi, Kam Theory!

Hi!

How’s it going?

It’s going haha.

First, in your own words, tell us who you are.

I am an ATL-based artist and producer from Savannah, GA.

I love Atlanta, especially the artists from there. How long have you been making music for this project? Is there a story behind it?

I’ve kinda always been making music for this project but I just didn’t know what I’d call myself at those earlier stages. I’m always aiming to discover and hone in on what exactly I'm doing and slowly but surely I'm finding my sound and as a result, a name that stuck came about. I don't exactly even recall why I chose it. Partially it was my nickname Kam that my friends started calling me to shorten Kamiah. And Theory I think just resonated with my personality, interests, and the subject matter of my music, haha.

I got my first project name from a joke someone made when I worked in a call center when I was 20 and had it for 15 years, there’s no rhyme or reason! So tell me more about your path as a musician and what got you to where you are now.

My music journey started as a child, I instantly gravitated toward music. I showed interest in it from my earliest memories. Through elementary school I would bang on any keyboard I could get my hands on, I played violin in 5th grade (but quit sadly haha), and then picked up a guitar at 13. I kinda always had these fleeting moments with being able to learn or play because I didn't actually have an instrument that was mine (or could afford lessons) until my first keyboard and first guitar at 13/14. But from there I taught myself how to play guitar by learning songs I loved and by writing my own songs. Naturally, I wanted to record myself and my own creations, so that bred my love for production. At 14 or 15 I got my first USB mic and MIDI cord to connect my lil casio and begin teaching myself programs like Mixcraft and eventually Ableton Live. I spent many hours just creating and trial and error learning music to get where I am today with it.

That’s cool you started producing songs so early! Kids really didn’t have that kind of access to recording programs and all that comes with that when I was that age but it’s really cool to see.

We started following each other on TikTok a few months ago; that’s where I discovered you are crazy talented. What made you decide to start promoting your music on TikTok?

Mostly being encouraged by people around me to post my music on the platform, because it can be a great tool for discovery. And it can just be fun! I’m not always as consistent with it as I should be but it’s definitely cool to connect with others as a result of posting.

I notice some artists are very aggressive with their promotion on the app and others prefer to take a much more organic, real-life approach to it and just put their work out there and let it reach who it reaches. What has it been like for you as an artist promoting their music on social media?

It’s a good tool when I am consistent with it, but sometimes I find it draining if I find myself feeling like I have to create content to be seen or not drowned out by the algorithm. But overall it's helpful when I am intentional about it and just remember that everything that's meant for me will come.

Yeah for sure, it’s stressful to be on there trying to get a song to go viral; I kind of think that ship has sailed anyway (definitely for the better). But it’s such a great tool for connecting with people and building community. Do you use it to connect with other artists or creators on there?

I do find music there occasionally, from specific artists that I might discover down to accounts that actually make lists of artists/or songs to listen to.

Has TikTok been a good platform to build community and find other musicians?

I think it is or can be. Social media overall has the potential to be that. Just depends on who you meet, connect with, and how you plan to move based on that imo!

Totally. Musictok can be a very energizing place, especially now that things have chilled out and it’s not so much like The Hunger Games or something. But some people do still have that energy vampire vibe that’s annoying. Do you enjoy the other music content that you see? Do you think on TikTok the content matters more or the music?

I do. I love to see artists/musicians play and discover new ones via the algorithm that I potentially wouldn't have otherwise. Usually, it’s the music but also I enjoy how an artist can kind of curate a short-form video to reach a wider audience. A good visual is satisfying too, but especially when it compliments the music that’s already happening!

I’ll be honest, I don’t think anyone has mastered the art of seamlessly merging their content with their music on TikTok yet. But it’s not shade, I guess that doesn’t necessarily have to be the goal. Besides, a lot of artists on TikTok are solo. You also write and play all the instruments, record, and produce everything yourself. How do you feel about that? Is it your preference?

I think it has its pros and cons like with everything. I like not having to wait on anyone to get things done or made as a result of being solo. But I do miss collaboration when I've gone through a long period of time without it. And it's nice to have a creative control break when working with others because the work is spread out over multiple brains vs just one haha.

Yeah, I used to get weird about collaborating but when you are really vibing with someone it’s really hard to go back to juggling everything yourself. This is sort of a non-sequitur, but how do you feel about competition in the music industry? Do you feel affected by it?

I think competition tends to stem from competing for an opportunity as opposed to competing for the sake of it. Also competing for attention because attention can lead to such opportunities. But there’s more room in this now than ever before because of social media and the internet. So it’s just interesting to witness or experience. I think it can bring out the worst of some personalities tho haha.

ABSOLUTELY. I think if there’s anyone to compete with it’s the stories we tell ourselves that hold us back.

Lately, there has been a lot of conversation around indie artists maintaining control and ownership over their music and working independently of a label. Do you have any personal thoughts on signing to a label?

I kind of touched on this in the previous question without even knowing haha. It’s absolutely an important conversation. The industry can be predatory, so I'd say my hope is that every single artist has the ability to decide what works for them. I would hope that everyone makes informed decisions vs hastily made ones that they might regret later on or ones made in the face of deception. In a perfect world, all artists could pursue the career in music they desire without the aid of a label to eventually leech off the fruits of that labor. But on the flip side, that same aid gets you the resources to execute your vision to a higher degree. So it can be subjective. I personally know that I want to maintain ownership and control of my music so I will move accordingly.

I respect that, and I think it means a lot to certain fans these days, too. But as you mentioned, there are a lot of great labels that are run by people with good taste who truly want to help artists, too. I think staying open to the right opportunities always helps the artist. So, what does the end game look like for you right now? What are your most immediate goals?

Definitely building a platform to get my music heard and connect to more people. And to create more opportunities for myself in music as a result of that, so yes, playing more live shows and finding more collaborators. I really don’t know if I’m seeking a label or ever will be because I would like to keep my autonomy, haha. But as I continue to learn more about the industry and business aspect of music maybe that will change, who knows. I’m kind of going with the flow right now but I would like to continue down this path and just grow organically.

I’m all about organic growth, I think it serves the artists best. Another non sequitur, but I really want your perspective. How do you feel about the expanding space for black artists and black music right now? Does it inspire you to witness and participate in the shifting of people’s perception of what Black music is?

I love that the perception is changing surrounding the expanding space for black artists. And the reason I say perception is because, to me, black artists created many if not all of the genres many other artists take credit for so this was ours to begin with! It absolutely inspires me because while marketing is important and influences so much, I think social media has given black artists back the power to create space for whatever we want to do. We can create our own lanes.

We absolutely can. Personally, I think TikTok has been a great platform to bring greater visibility to Black alternative artists. Would you agree it’s more instrumental to this than other platforms?

I would say yes! All of the algorithms have their bias (we know this for sure) but the main thing I like about tiktok’s algorithm is that it seems to really tailor itself to its specific audience and as a result, we can uplift our own people more. I love that.

For sure. I love the music community, seeing artists’ creativity and the way people engage each other on topics there. So…here’s a prompt for you. What are two of your favorite albums that you consider polar opposites?

This is such a good and hard question haha. I’d say The Beauty In Distortion by J*Davey and Homogenic by Bjork. The reason I say this is because while both albums are beat-centric and make use of distortion at times, the end result was so different. Another pairing imma list is Girl In The Half Pearl by Liv.e and Strange Mercy by St. Vincent. I love these albums and both have a melancholic vibe but in different ways. The music nerd in me wants to point out how both of them are from Dallas, Tx haha.

I still haven’t listened to Liv.e. I keep hearing she is amazing, I really need to get it together. So with artists releasing singles and really taking their time to release a full album now, I have to ask - especially younger artists - what do you prefer more, full albums or singles/playlists?

I love full albums to the core. I love the concept of bringing to life a whole project with such an intention and tying something together like that. And the way an entire album can become like a capsule of a certain time over a collection of songs as opposed to one. The rollout, the aesthetic, the concept/theme, the sonic choices that tie everything together is just the most satisfying thing. And to experience it the way the artist intended. I love it. (Singles/playlists are great too tho! haha)

I agree so much. I love it. I accept other answers, but I love this answer.

Your content is really fun to watch because you’re wholesome yet so confident! I can tell you really love guitar and the process of constructing songs. Do you draw a distinction between the songwriting process and production or are the lines more blurry?

Thank you, haha. It took and is still taking a long way to exude confidence in it so I appreciate that. I would say it's more blurry for me because I tend to do both interchangeably. When I write it's not just about the song structure and content but I usually also have an idea of how I want it to sound once it's clearly conceptualized in my head and I'm trying to get it out and recorded. So for example, I might write a lyric and a melody but I also hear that it HAS to have this kind of delay on it or it doesn't feel complete haha. If that makes sense.

It makes perfect sense. That’s part of why I think the recorded medium really adds to the experience of songwriting. You have that control, but a responsibility not to exhaust yourself or exhaust the song. Do you believe in the concept of a magnum opus? Do you think people can strive for it or do you think it just happens?

I think it’s subjective. But in the case of it happening, I tend to believe it just happens, and the best way it happens is when an artist has grown into themselves and found a sound that is THEM. I’ve thought about this in terms of when an artist self-titles an album. They believed after however many projects they previously put out that this one embodied THEM fully. Yet, that could still not be the album of theirs that is considered magnum opus to listeners haha.

Haha, true! True. When I was a kid a self-titled album used to really bother me and I think maybe that had something to do with why but I never articulated it. Or I just thought they were lazy. I don’t know.

So here’s a wild card question. Do you believe in reincarnation?

Yes. Energy just recycles and we are energetic beings having a human experience.

Me too. I really hope next time I get to be something other than human. How much do you feel like you infuse your life philosophies into your songwriting?

A lot haha. I’m very interested in the metaphysical and spiritual. And it’s just natural to sneak in those existential concepts when that’s what all of this is haha. Art and creation fragment themselves and are imitating and experiencing themselves. Ourselves!

I’m definitely a sucker for artists who do this, probably because I vibe with it pretty deep myself. So What’s on deck in 2023 for Kam Theory? What are you looking forward to? What can your new fans look forward to?

I definitely have goals in mind for this year musically but they are also dependent on my personal life goals at the moment haha. I definitely will just be taking opportunities as they present themselves and making more of them. But if all goes well I'll be performing more and collaborating more, and I'll finally release a project as opposed to just singles. Let's hope for and manifest the best! :)

WE HERE HOPE FOR AND MANIFEST THE BEST FOR KAM THEORY <3

(Originally published on beastsunltd.com March 8th, 2023)

#new music #neo soul #rnb #black alternative #diy #kam theory #Spotify #stubborn society

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rinwellisathing · 10 months ago

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Paint The Lines, Cut The Flesh: Part 20

Sentry sat alone in his tent, knees to his chest, head lowered. He didn't even look up as the tent flap lifted and two people entered, slowly sitting across from him. Kroger's piercing green eyes studied him carefully while Jaheira regarded him warily, the lines on her face prominent as focused frown crossed her features. “What? What did I do now?” Sentry groaned miserably. “I've already put Halsin in danger....” “His rescue relies very much on learning why you, specifically, feel responsible for that, Mr. Ojeda.” Kroger replied evenly. “The tiefling woman who brought the injured drow here shared a bit of information with me while I treated her companion, I want to give you the opportunity to tell me in your own words, to come clean.” Jaheira continued to regard Sentry wordlessly, as though waiting to see what he might say. Her gaze looked so accusing, though not hateful. It was a strange look, almost pitying. “Well, I know there's something wrong with me...and I'm starting to think it isn't actually a curse...” He frowned a moment and shook his head. “Actually, I think I've realized it wasn't a curse for a while now...I think I'm something rotten, something evil....” He continued, scratching his upper arm nervously. “Orin's my sister, apparently...or something like that, I have these terrible murderous urges...and I find beauty in destruction...Not to mention that weird imp that follows me...” “Our guest called you a Bhaalspawn, more to the point, Bhaal's chosen son.” Jaheira replied. “I have fought Bhaalspawn but I have also journeyed by their side and seen them fight against their nature...My question to you, Sentry, is do you have the courage to do that?” “Of course I do!” Sentry replied. “Look, I may not be a perfect paladin and honestly I don't want to stop finding beauty in death, but I don't WANT to hurt people who don't deserve it...and I never wanted Halsin or Astarion to get hurt.”

Jaheira gave a small chuckle. “Ha! The bit about beauty in death just sounds like a typical teenager to me. That, I can simply chalk up to a stunted childhood. But I do believe you care for your friends and that you want your mind to be your own.” Her expression softened. “Look, boy, as I said before, your mother was a friend of mine, she would not have helped you become what you are today if she didn't see something good in you, I trusted Evagria Ojeda and so I will trust you. But with that said, should you decide to follow your father after all, I will not hesitate to end you.” “Fair enough...” Sentry nodded, then he looked to Kroger apologetically. “I should probably tell the others, shouldn't I?” “That's up to you, but knowing exactly what we're up against will give us a decided advantage.” The githyanki replied. “And Sentry...my sisters and I understand what it's like to be judged for what you are and where you come from, we won't turn our backs on you as long as you don't turn yours on us. If we can count on you to help us save Orpheus, you can count on us to help you rescue Halsin.”

---- Sentry knelt near his tent, gently stroking Scratch's soft ears and nuzzling into his soft white fur. “Hey buddy, I know there's someplace here you don't want to go back to....believe me, I'd never make you, but I need you to come into the city with me, I need your help. Without Halsin, only you've got a sharp enough sense of smell to track anything down and we need to find him.” Scratch wagged his tail and pranced a bit in place. “Of course, friend. Halsin's a nice man, he always shares plenty of food with me and makes sure Nibbles and I have space to run. He's even been kind to Us, strange creature though it is. He's part of the pack!” Sentry smiled gratefully. “That he is, Scratch my boy.” He scratched vigorously at the dog's sides. “We're tracking Halsin's sent, but also this....” He offered the list Astarion had given him. “I know it probably smells like me and Astarion now, but underneath there should be another smell...”

“A dwarf.” Scratch immediately piped up, burying his nose in the parchment and sniffing vigorously. “The smell of death is all over him, but not like you, there's a badness to him...” “Yes, exactly.” Sentry nodded. “Let me gather a group together and we'll go. Also, I promise there's a juicy steak in it for you for your help.”

“I'd do it for nothing to help Halsin, but that does sound pleasant! Nibbles will leap for joy.” Scratch wagged his tail. Within a moment, Jaheira, Astarion, and Kroger had joined Sentry and Scratch and were prepared to head out on the hunt. They faced the other party, which consisted of Jaina, Karlach, Wyll, Gale, and Shadowheart to discuss their plans and where and when they would reconvene. Lae'zel and Octavia had opted to remain at camp to keep an eye on Minthara, who nobody quite trusted still, and to try and learn more from Gabraela. “We plan to find Sorcerous Sundries and ask after this book Gale thinks might help us, The Annals of Karsus.” Wyll explained. Despite the severity of their situation, Sentry couldn't help but crack a grin. “I'm sorry, the what?” Karlach stifled a giggle as well and Jaina briefly gave a begrudging little smirk before dutifully forcing it back to a serious expression. “Rest assured, it is of utmost importance to understanding the crown and how it may be effecting the Elder Brain.” Gale explained through gritted teeth. “We're all adults here and you all know exactly what the book is called now.” “Right, right, okay...and meanwhile, our group will look for evidence of this killer and track the Bhaal cult to find Halsin.” Sentry replied. “We ought to reconvene back at camp by nightfall.” Jaheira suggested. “Unless of course something comes up. We play it by ear then.” With their paths decided, the two parties split up, making their way into the city. Scratch led Sentry's group, eagerly sniffing at the ground as he went. Meanwhile, Jaina took the lead of the other party, having lived in the city most recently and knowing best the current landmarks. --- Wyll's party made their way through the city, he found himself smiling a bit as Karlach gasped with excitement, pointing out landmarks she remembered and remarking on new things she saw. Jaina happily discussed the sights with her, explaining some of the newer places and reminiscing about the places Karlach remembered. Wyll found himself especially happy to see the lower city park, where he remembered playing as a child. The party naturally found themselves stopping for a moment.

“Ah, a fine place to relax with a good book, unfortunately not as common outdoors in Waterdeep.” Gale smiled approvingly at the beautiful garden, peaceful fountains, and small pockets of people chatting or picnicing. “I remember playing here when I was little, there was nothing like finding a good stick for my sword and fighting imaginary monsters.” Wyll smiled wistfully. A small group of children, mostly elven and human rushed up to the party, eyes wide. “Miss Jaina! It's you!” “Miss Jaina? Where have you been!? We've missed you!” “Miss Jaina, who are your friends? They're so cool!” “Whoa! One at a time, friends.” Jaina smiled warmly. “It's good to see you again. I just took a little unexpected trip.” Shadowheart smiled and actually laughed a bit as she watched Jaina with the children. “They're adorable. These are former students, then?” “Hey! I recognize him! That's The Blade of Frontiers! My cousin saw him once, he has the same eye and the same scars! You're friends with a big hero?!” A young girl with messy straw colored hair and freckles gasped. Wyll was taken aback a moment at being recognized back home, but chuckled happily. “You've got me, my friend.” He took a knee to be eye level with the children. “But would you like to know a secret?” The kids leaned in eagerly. This was a real hero! An exciting experience for any child and especially so far from the frontier itself. They eagerly awaited with bated breath for what Wyll had to see. “Your teacher is a hero as well, she's been helping me on my adventures. That's where she's been. We're partners.” Wyll smiled widely as the children all gasped with excitement and looked at Jaina in awe. Soon, their little eyes caught Karlach, Shadowheart, and Gale. “Who are they, Mr. Blade?” “That lady with the big axe is so cool!” “ Is that man an archmage!?” “Are you a princess, miss?” The children leapt about like eager puppies, asking a thousand questions a second it seemed. “Oh! Mr. Blade! Would you play with us?” The children finally asked. “I suppose we have time, don't we?” Wyll asked with a kind smile. The rest of the party agreed and joined the children at their games, at least for a while, enjoying the moment of revisiting childhood, for a brief time able to be care free and forget about the troubles of their quest. ----

Scratch led the party up the stairs to an ornate door of a gilded and gaudy shop near the bridge to the upper city. He pawed at the door and barked loudly, pacing back and forth as he waited for the party to join him atop the steps. “Yeah, believe it or not, I recognize this place.” Sentry nodded. He could recall sitting in the corner in his comfortable black gambeson and breeches, a black hooded cloak and leather gloves as well as his favorite black and silver buckled boots watching Enver try on a jacket for a gala some patriars had insisted that he attend. He recalled the gregarious, well styled dwarf laden in fine jewelry, rings, and silks, telling him that his style could certainly use a bit of an update if he was going to be working with a lord. “This is Facemaker Boutique.” Kroger winced as he looked the building over. “The décor is a bit much, I'm not an expert on Istik fashion, but wouldn't the garishness take away from the clothing itself?” “Yeah...but that's just who this guy is as a person.” Sentry shrugged, pushing open the door with a pleasant little chime of a bell. “Huh...weird....I think he usually rushes to see if it's a customer worth fawning over...” Sentry frowned as he made his way into the shop, the rest of the party following. “Well, garish as his store is, the stitchwork on his pieces is quite good, actually.” Astarion mused, raising a brow as though surprised by how impressed he was with the quality of the garments on display. “Give me good linen any day. Frippery like this will tear the moment you draw back a bowstring.” Jaheira shrugged. Scratch gave a loud bark and began to growl, bolting into the shop's fitting area, snapping and snarling. Sentry hurried after him, the rest of the party moving double time behind him. There before them, a gnomish woman in Flaming Fist garb lay stunned on the floor and a young well dressed dwarf in blue sat paralyzed in a chair while a very plain looking dwarvish man in red circled him with sewing scissors.

“Oh now that's unforgiveable! Come now! I can excuse murder, but sewing scissors? On flesh?!” Astarion scoffed, his expression somewhere between mortified and furious. Sentry couldn't help but smile, there was an artist under the years of pain and want Astarion had been through, Sentry could appreciate that. “Yeah, idiot! You'll dull the blades beyond repair! Fuck, I'd kill you just for thinking of doing that!” “Fewer quips and more hits, please.” Jaheira chastised as a small group of dopplegangers burst into the room, engaging the party. Luckily, they hadn't expected an animal companion as Scratch evened the odds a bit, leaping on one and latching his sharp teeth around its throat, shaking more roughly than he'd done with any toy.

---- “You know, meeting your students made me think a bit, Jaina.” Shadowheart walked beside the tiefling as they continued through the city towards Sorcerous Sundries. “Maybe once I've rescued my parents, once I'm free of Shar entirely...Maybe I ought to teach.”

“It's very rewarding, but also it can be a lot.” Jaina admitted. “There's a lot more backstabbing and politics to it than you think. The students are great, but your colleagues and a lot of the parents? Not so much.” She explained. “Still, with what you've dealt with as a Sharran, you could probably handle it, actually, and truth be told it would be nice to have a friend on staff.” “I would watch your back. Replace all those backstabbing old women's wine with cheap vinegar, perhaps.” Shadowheart smiled and gave a laugh, tossing a friendly arm around Jaina's shoulders. “Or perhaps a hair loss tonic in their morning coffee and tea.” Jaina grinned. “I like it!” Shadowheart nodded her approval. “We'll be partners in crime.” The party stopped, finding themselves in the shadow of an impossibly tall building towering at the center of a pleasant public square. Their eyes all raised in unison to look up and behold the wonder that was Ramazith's Tower, home of Sorcerous Sundries. The entire place seemed to glimmer with the effervescent glow of magic and strange arcane powered automatons guarded the entrance, where a familiar face stood, yelling angrily at the impassive machines.

“Ugh...It's you hellspawn again.” The human spat, glaring at Jaina and Karlach. “Missing your violent friend, though, aren't you?” Jaina smirked, folding her arms across her chest. “Your healer is awful, Aradin. Sentry punched you, what? A couple weeks ago? I'd think you'd have gotten that healed by now.” “It's a different injury, you smart mouthed bitch.” The human sneered, not seeming to notice Wyll and Karlach's hands both going towards their weapons. “What are you doing here anyway? Is this just your thing? Being locked out of places? Being unwanted?” Shadowheart raised a brown. “I want compensation for what I went through on that gods damned Nightsong quest! I lost a lot of good men, damnit.” He snapped. “Huh...I thought to get paid for a quest you had to, y'know, do the quest.” Karlach snorted. “We all know you didn't find the Nightsong anyway seeing as we did.” “Karlach!” Gale hissed. “It would have ended in failure anyway, the Nightsong isn't some artifact, she's a person, and she's free now.” Wyll explained. “Maybe it's time you let this go and found another contract elsewhere.” “No...If this Nightsong's free, I'm gonna find her and bring her here like I planned....You watch.” The arrogant human shoved past the party and back into the streets. “Well, if it's any consolation, Aylin'll knock the stuffing out of him before he can do anything.” Karlach laughed. “She'd snap that guy like a badly made wand!” Jaina nodded. “True, I certainly wouldn't want to be her enemy.” She smiled as the party made their way into the store, where her smile quickly faltered as she hurried over to the counter.

“Looks like Rolan made it to his apprenticeship after all.” Karlach murmured. “Looking a bit worse for wear though, isn't he?” “Welcome to Sorcerous Sundries...Oh...it's you, Miss Thalassia.” Rolan frowned a bit, immediately turning his head. “Rolan, what happened?” Jaina frowned, peering closely at the bruises and lacerations. “And don't tell me you fell, do you know how many times I hear that story?” “It's nothing. Look, I need to keep up with my work, so if you'd like to purchase something, I'm here...Or if you've got information on The Nightsong, there's a portal upstairs to speak with my master...”

“Where are Cal and Lia? I know they wouldn't allow this to happen to you.” Jaina persisted. Rolan's expression fell and he glared. “I don't need anyone to protect me, I'm fine. Now are you going to buy something? If not, leave me to my duties.” Jaina pursed her lips and stormed away from the counter. “Fine, maybe I DO have some information about The Nightsong after all...” She muttered under her breath, practically flying towards the stairs as images of Dame Aylin pummeling the master of this tower filled her mind. Shadowheart and Karlach exchanged a glance as the rest of the party followed. ----- When the dust settled, the dopplegangers lay dead on the floor, Jaheira turning back from a massive, sleek panther and Scratch sitting calmly as his last enemy twitched one final time. Kroger saw to some superficial wounds on Astarion's body as Sentry towered over Dolor's prone form. “You really thought you had what it took to be an Unholy Assassin...” Sentry stomped on one of the dwarf's legs brutally, snapping the limb beneath his foot as he glared down, eyes filled with contempt and rage. “You thought you were real frightening, didn't you?” He crushed his hand under his boot next. The dwarf's eyes were wide with fear as he gazed up at Sentry, like staring down a monster in a horror story. “You...you're not even chosen anymore! Orin said!” He stammered. “Why do you even care!?” “Because Father Lorgan deserved better....” Sentry plunged the dagger he had reclaimed from the Open Hand murder site into Dolor's shoulder, leaning in close, his breath hot as the hells against the dwarf's face. “And your mother deserved better....She always did....You should have been a better son, Dolor.” And with that, Sentry stood up and brought his boot down on Dolor's head again and again, pulping his unremarkable features, caving his skull like a summer time sun melon. His boot came down again and again until finally Jaheira gripped his shoulder and looked up at him with a slightly unsettled expression. “I'm pretty sure you've killed him, boy...” She assured Sentry. “Now we ought to see to the victims we can still save.” She nodded towards the Flaming Fist and the clothing maker. Sentry lowered his head sheepishly and nodded his agreement, moving to untie Figaro from his restraints as Kroger moved over to the gnomish woman and gestured a restoration spell, blue-green light enveloping her and allowing her to move again as the Githyanki examined her carefully.

“Ah...thank you for rescuing me, sir...Truly a horrifying experience.” Facemaker shuddered, standing up and gingerly picking his way past the corpse of his would-be murderer. “Can you image? Choosing to wear all red like that? And such cheap leather!” Sentry chuckled. “Yeah, pretty tacky if you ask me...Uh...hey, um I know you've only just been rescued from a pretty terrible experience, but...ah...” Sentry's eyes turned towards Astarion, who was looting the corpse of a large doppleganger. His clothing, though once fine, had certainly seen better days and the tiefling knew how lovingly the elf cared for hit. Figaro followed sentry's gaze and nodded. “Ah! Say no more. I would be a poor style maker indeed if a little thing like attempted murder distracted me from my calling, step into my office....for your man, I'm thinking a stunning little blue and gold number I've recently made and for you.....” He placed a hand genially on Sentry's back, guiding him into the shop proper. ---- The items the party had found on Dolor led them to a dilapidated little shop nestled just beside the cemetery, a tombstone shop, most predictably. Sentry slowly approached the door and very carefully pressed against it. Finding it locked, he nodded to Astarion, who stepped up to swiftly deal with the obstacle. Walking inside, the party felt a heavy chill over them as they made their way through the rows of sample tombstones. Kroger reached into his pack and carefully extracted a pair of white cotton gloves, putting them on and slowly beginning to examine the stones. “The names on these are the same as the ones on the list...” He murmured, his fingers moving over the chiseled letters. “Perhaps after we've rescued Halsin, we may wish to explore some of these other victims, I assume we're still looking for parts of that clown? And perhaps more information on your past as well, Sentry.” Sentry nodded his agreement. “That makes sense...yes...” He came to the last room in the shop, approaching a door in the wall and fumbling with Dolor's various notes and letters for the pass phrase. “Sicarius...” And with the word uttered, the door slid open, leading into a dark, cold cellar. The area was so familiar to Sentry, as though he had been here a thousand times. Something twisted in his stomach, a sick sense of fear and anxiety. As he passed through the corridor and into the large chamber which housed a massive door, he was only vaguely aware that the rest of his party was with him.

As he approached the door, Kroger stopped him with a quick grip of the shoulder and handed him the dripping, bloodied bag they'd taken off of Dolor's corpse. “I would imagine you're going to need these in order to gain access.” He explained. “Well, I did take his hand as well, but it's kind of crushed, so...you're probably right.” Sentry nodded appreciatively as he approached the guards. “Hey! I've got your trophies here, so let's see this murder tribunal, huh?” He put on a brave face, mustering as much bravado as he could, not wanting to think about what was making him feel so anxious in a place he should have felt at home. “Present me well from gifts thine own or I will rend your flesh from bone.” The largest of the knights standing before the door intoned ominously. “Easily. D'you know how many people I killed today alone? I'm a pretty big deal.” Sentry forced a flippant smirk, producing a hand from the bag and holding it out to the guard as though offering a handshake. “Then enter...” The guard accepted the hand and stood aside, the doors creaking open and allowing Sentry and his party to enter. The Murder Tribunal's chamber was more frigid stone, stained with ancient blood. They were seated at the far end of the room on thrones of ordinary stone without cushion and watching the party enter. As Sentry gazed foreward, his eyes met a penetrating molten yellow gaze and he froze, eyes wide with fear as he stood there, bile rising in his throat as he was transported back to the breeding cell, back to Vereena. His head was pressed roughly into the pungent straw that lined the cage, the scent of so many fluids filling his nostrils, tears and snot staining his face. He could feel the blood running freely down his inner thighs and the pain that traveled all the way up to his belly with each agonizing thrust. He saw that same face leering down at him, cold and authoritative just as it was now. “Vereena....you return to your family at last...” The figure growled from his place atop the dais.

The others looked to Sentry in confusion. The tiefling bristled, his tail raised stiffly and arched. His eyes narrowed angrily. “Fuck you. My name is Sentry.” “You may call yourself what you like, Vereena, but it does not change what our father intended for you.” The figure sneered. “Sarevok Anchev....I can't say this is a pleasant surprise.” Jaheira spat the name like an unpleasant taste. “Hmm...The absent harper returns....Your keen sense for this city has withered in your absence..” Sarevok sneered at her. “I can only assume you've brought her here as a sacrifice, Vereena.” He looked to Sentry. The tiefling tensed, his shoulders stiff, his tail raised in anger, but twitching nervously. Jaheira and the others both knew Sentry was frightened, unsure if he could defeat Sarevok in combat. “Stop...calling me that....” Sentry muttered, his body shaking. “Well, you heard him, old man.” Astarion stepped up beside Sentry, arms folded across his chest. “Address him properly, will you?” Sarevok rose to his feet, leering down at Sentry. “You come in here, masquerading as a man, calling yourself by the name that woman gave you and bringing an enemy of our father to his tribunal's inner sanctum....I will tame you, Vereena, I will show you your place...and I will make sacrifices of your companions.” “I had been told Istik family reunions were a dreaded occasion, but this feels excessive.” Kroger winced, summoning a glowing glaive to his side as Jaheira drew her scimitars and Astarion drew his bow. “Sentry, dear, now would be a good time to snap out of it. Channel a bit of that anger, perhaps, darling?” Astarion's eyes darted to Sentry, who still seemed quite paralyzed. Sarevok leapt down from the dais, sword drawn as he took a swing at Sentry. Within a split second, the tiefling's halberd was in his hands, meeting the weapon and forcing Sarevok back with a mighty shove. “I have wanted to kill you since I was six years old, Sarevok.....Fuck you and fuck father for what you did to me.” Sentry spat. -----

Sentry panted heavily, his armor battered, blood and bruising covering any skin that remained exposed, and his body hunched with exhaustion, but he stomped slowly towards Sarevok, who was sprawled across the floor in front of the dais, trying to push himself back up to his feet. He smirked at Sentry, spitting blood on the ground in front of him. His helmet had fallen from his head. “You may think you're free, Vereena, but father cannot be defeated like this and he won't simply let his chosen go, not when your womb could spawn so many children stronger even than you....” He was cut off as Sentry grasped his throat, squeezing his windpipe. “Shut up....” He growled, dragging Sarevok up the dais to the solid stone seat he had sat upon when Sentry had entered. “Shut up.” He snarled again, slamming Sarevok's head into the edge of the throne. “Shut up!” Again. “Shut up!” Again. “Shut up!!!!” His growled became screams as he slammed Sarevok's head into the stone again and again until there was nothing recognizable of his sibling's face. Tears trickled openly down Sentry's cheeks as he stood over the corpse, glaring down at it. He was silent in that moment, his throat raw and aching from screaming, his hands caked in blood. He didn't know if he was going to break down sobbing or be sick to his stomach, it was all too much. “There now...He's gone, kid...He can harm you no longer.” Jaheira's voice broke through the static in Sentry's mind. “Nor anyone else for that matter. Now, let's try and find some clue as to where they've taken Halsin and get out of here as quickly as we can.” She gently guided him down from the dais and Sentry followed somewhat numbly, eyes wide as he stared forward. Kroger wrinkled his nose and put on a pair of sheep skin gloves that went up to his elbows, making his way over to Sarevok's corpse and rifling through his pouches. “It seems he had a key and some sort of amulet.” The Githyanki announced. “I'm assuming the key goes to one of the doors on either side of the room.” “Well, he was a high ranking cultist, we can assume there has to be SOMETHING of value in this cesspit.” Astarion sniffed, approaching the door to the right of the dais and claiming the key Kroger handed to him.

As the door swung open, a familiar, if unwelcome figure greeted them. A small hollyphant in a sharp hat hovering bound by a cruel chain above a pit of what appeared to be blood. Sentry groaned in frustration and slumped his shoulders. “Fuck, of course we accidentally rescued the useless inspector....Of course we did.” He muttered, but the strain of seeing Sarevok again and the crash after all the adrenaline that had coursed through him as he ended him kept Sentry from expressing further disappointment. “Astarion, can you let her go so I don't have to deal with it? I'm too tired to gloat about being right...” “Not to worry, darling, I can do it for you.” Astarion neatly slipped by and began to undo the chains. “So...I suppose this means that dear Sentry was right about those murders, hmm?” He gave a falsely pleasant little smirk. “Yes, yes....No need to rub it in....” She huffed. “At any rate, you came just in time...they were planning to sacrifice me to Bhaal....” A shudder coursed through her yellow-gold flesh. “Any way, this is far above my paygrade, this sort of thing is hero work...I trust you can handle it from here?” “Just like The City Watch to be utterly useless.” Jaheira shook her head as the little creature flew from the room. The party crossed the hall to the door on the opposite side of the room and Sentry pushed the door open, peering slowly inside. Seeing a small office at the back, he made his way towards the desk, examining the papers and books strewn across it. One in particular caught his eye and his fingers brushed over it before he shakily raised it to read.

“Oh Orin...” He whispered, biting his lip. His mind reeled with memories as the story on the paper revealed itself. She was Sarevok's child the whole time...the spawn of a twisted union with his own daughter. His stomach turned just thinking of it, and then the manipulation, he would have let Orin die if father hadn't preferred her over Helena. This whole time, his sister was a pawn on Sarevok's board, this entire time he had groomed her, twisted her to his will. Sentry supposed that accounted for her changed attitude towards him near the end. He was only dimly aware of the rest of the party searching the room, Astarion looking for gold or something valuable, Kroger for anything of use in healing, Jaheira likely for old remembrances. All the while, Sentry stood there, reading and re-reading with disbelief as memories of Orin troubled his already reeling mind. His little sister...

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candlelightdiaries · 11 months ago

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This blog is likely going to have more than one post per day. I just got a lot of thoughts, ya know?

I just had an amazing spiritual experience with a friend of mine who is pagan, and I think I understand a little bit better what serenity feels like. We were drawing tarot cards to see what our topic of conversation should be after our AA meeting tomorrow morning and she pulled a card and I lit a candle on my alter then pulled the tower. At first I was scared because I was like “oh shit, more crazy shit is about to be happening in my life, idk if I can handle this”. I started reflecting to her about how I’ve been having these mini mental breakdowns lately and how overwhelmed I feel about change, and how stressed out I’ve been even just thinking about the concept of my higher power. I told her that I’m afraid I’m not a witch or pagan because I really want to be. I’ve always felt drawn to it. I told her about how I don’t know what is right and what is wrong to believe and while I know there is no right or wrong but I’m scared there is. I’ve had so much stress and change lately but I didn’t realize I needed to get thi out. I feel like she is one of the few people I can talk to about the Powers That Be because there aren’t a ton of pagans/witches in AA, at the very least that I know about in my area. I left the candle on the whole conversation because I wanted to invite the Powers That Be into the conversation. I felt such a sense of peace and continued to meditate after we ended the call. My friend said she would help me as much as she can on my journey into a spiritual practice and it feels so good to know that I’m not alone in figuring this out. I’m so stuck on doing everything “right” that I’m keeping myself from actually practicing my beliefs. I need to start reading the books that I have on witchcraft and paganism and actually figure out my beliefs and what my options are. I like having something organized and structured to go off of when it comes to the Powers That Be but I think I need to accept that I need to make my own structure. That doesn’t mean I can’t have help from those around me but I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I want a sense of comfort from my higher power and to not feel alone in a spiritual sense. I don’t want a “me vs them” attitude, I want a “we’re in this together” attitude with the Powers That Be.

I sat and watched the candle after we got off the phone and the flame remained steady. This made me feel a sense of comfort, knowing that things would be okay and the Powers That Be were and still are with me. Drawing the tower card feels like a blessing. I thought that our conversation tomorrow would have to be about more shit that’s going to happen in my life, but in reality I just needed to talk about the chaos and change that is going on currently in my life, I just needed to let it out today. The right time for the conversation was tonight and I am so thankful to the Powers That Be for guiding me and helping me to be open with my friend, because it has helped me so much. Thank you, whatever is out there.

I feel like I could write forever about this. I have so many feelings and thoughts but I think it might be best to just have a quiet night to reflect. I feel like I’m in this meditative and spiritual state and I don’t want to lose it because it feels amazing. My friend and I are going to meet sometime soon one-on-one to talk more about this and I’m actually really exited to. I want this to be a fun journey of learning and finding my beliefs.

What I’ve learned tonight is that I am not alone with my thoughts and there is so much value in sharing them with other people. I am so grateful for my friend and I’m grateful to whatever is out there that I will come to believe in. It’s okay to not know what’s going on and it’s okay to talk about those things. I have a taste of peacefulness and comfort and I want to keep it around. I got this, I am going to be okay. Maybe this is what I need to help give up control and follow the will of the Powers That Be. Goodnight.

#spirituality #AA #higher power #pagan #paganblr #rambling thoughts #Powers That Be #new witch #candlelight diaries #I wonder if this is what faith feels like #serenity #reflection #thanks for letting me share #witch #i love my friends so much #sobriety

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atlabeth · 4 years ago

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everything happens for a reason part 3 - zuko x fem!reader

I feel so much, I get carried away

part 2 | masterlist | part 4

a/n: enjoy the fluff in this chapter bc its not gonna last

once again for reference - this chapter takes place 2 years after the last one so y/n is 11 and zuko is 12

warning(s): eating/food, but otherwise its pure fluff

wc: 3.3k

chapter title comes from carried away by madison beer!

i ran out of kid zuko gifs so i had to make my own smh if you want something done you gotta do it yourself

The young friendship only flourished after that fateful day. Zuko and Y/N began spending almost all of their freetime together between Y/N teaching him about her culture, their usual talking in the hallways, and finding ways to hang out together outside of her schedule. She was absolutely delighted to be teaching Zuko though, so she always made sure there was time for her self proclaimed academy.

Y/N was constantly busy around the castle, so in order to hang out they had started waking up extra early — the pair had become experts at sneaking around the castle with the first rays of the sun. The gardens were a favourite because of its availability, and of course, the turtleducks. It also gave Y/N a chance to bend outside of healing, something that they began to take advantage of as they got older.

Sparring sessions became a regular between them as a way for Y/N to get some practice with martial bending, Zuko to experience fighting against a waterbender, and just another way for them to spend time together. Of course, they had to keep it as quiet as possible to avoid alerting anyone of their presence, but that became the least of their worries over time.

They each pushed each other to be better, and with Y/N’s healing skills, they were able to walk away every morning without any injuries. But after discovering a very unfair advantage that the prince held, she decided that morning sparring just wasn’t enough.

(“Firebending gets stronger in the morning,” he had told her after a particularly brutal blast resulting in some emergency bending on Y/N’s part to extinguish a tree. “My teachers always say that we rise with the sun.”

“Well,” she had said with a smile. “We rise with the moon. You just signed yourself up for some late night sparring sessions.”)

Y/N had truly started to come into her own. It had been two years since her capture, and though she had in no way made peace with her life in the Fire Nation, she was trying to take advantage of it as much as she could. Even though she despised being at the beck and call of nobles and guards, she couldn’t deny the opportunities it gave her to hone her abilities. Her healing had improved tenfold and her martial bending wasn’t too shabby either. Between all of the time spent with Zuko and practicing her bending, she was able to distract herself from her dim reality.

But the world was a cruel, cruel place, no matter how much she tried to ignore it. It didn’t treat souls like Zuko and Y/N kindly, a fact that they would soon become aware of.

In the moment though, Y/N was more focused on not getting burnt.

She twirled to the side as a small flame shot past her, just barely managing to dodge it as she bent a stream of water out from the pond and sent it at Zuko. He turned it to steam as he blocked it with his own fire, which he then sent back at her with a combination of a punch and a kick. Y/N raised her hands and bent up a large wall of water from the pond, and with a small grunt on her part, sent it flying towards Zuko. He tried to conjure up his own fire shield in an effort to extinguish the water once more, but it was too little too late and he ended up getting knocked to the ground and completely drenched.

Y/N couldn’t stop the giggle that fell from her lips as Zuko wiped water off of his face, sputtering incoherently while he pushed himself up. “Did you really have to do that?” he complained.

“You know I do.” She grinned as she walked around the pond to his side, cracking her knuckles before she began to bend the water out of his clothes. “This was in the morning, too. Admit it, I’m getting better!”

He cracked a smile of his own. “You really are. I just wish that you getting better didn’t end up in me getting soaked every time.”

She bent the water she had extracted from his clothes back into the pond and held out her hand to help him up from the ground, which he took gratefully. “That just makes it more fun.”

As she helped pull him up, Y/N found herself more than a little transfixed. The rays of the rising sun shone down on him perfectly, and the smile still on his lips made her feel flutter bats in her stomach.

Y/N didn’t know when she had started seeing Zuko in a different light than usual. When his laughs became melodious, his smile like a ray of sunshine on its own, his company coveted. While she was usually able to trade verbal jabs with him without a second thought, doing her self-assigned job of keeping him humble, something had changed in the past year.

They grew steadily closer over the years after they had met, but one event in particular all but pushed Zuko into her arms.

Ursa’s banishment.

Of course, they didn’t know that she had been banished. No one aside from Ozai knew the true nature of her disappearance — to her children and the other inhabitants of the palace, it was just that. A disappearance.

It was suspicious, yes. All in the span of a day, Princess Ursa vanished, Fire Lord Azulon mysteriously perished, and Ozai took his place, but nothing could be done. It was a somber day for every servant — Ursa showed them a kindness that couldn’t be found anywhere else in the palace, and to rub salt in the wound, a man just as cruel as Azulon had risen to the throne.

Zuko was devastated. He had always been close with his mother, and the only thing she had given him before leaving was a short goodbye and a kiss. He was angry beyond belief at the abandonment, and that anger overshadowed his grief.

Y/N tried to help him, but he lashed out at her.

“Your mother is still here and she loves you! Mine left me like I was nothing. Don’t try and say you know how I feel.”

“But my father is gone. I do know how you feel Zuko, and I want to help you, but I can’t help you if you keep pushing me away.”

“…you don’t know anything.”

It hurt, but she knew he needed space. She gave it to him, letting him brew alone and take out his anger however necessary, but let him know that the door was open when he was ready to talk.

He did — he had apologized for what he said and she accepted, and Zuko ended up spilling every emotion he had to her over the next few weeks. She listened, offered advice when she could, and made Zuko feel a little bit less alone in the scheme of it all. It was a horrible experience, but it brought them closer together, and the prince was eternally thankful that he had a friend to help him through the ordeal.

The night that he came to her room, admitting that he was hurting and asking for her help — Y/N thinks that was the moment she fell for him. She cursed herself at the time for developing feelings for her only friend in the palace, but over time she learned to cover them up. She had to remember her place.

She understood her role, but it got harder and harder to keep up with it the more time she spent with Zuko — this moment was no exception.

“Yeah, yeah. I just hold back because I don’t want to burn you.”

“Liar!” she exclaimed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. “You forget that I can heal myself if anything goes wrong. Besides, I know you’d never burn me. I trust you.”

Zuko smiled and smoothed his clothes back down, the only sign of their sparring session now gone. “Good, because I trust you too. No matter how many times you totally drench me.”

She snorted as she started to walk back to the palace. “Like I said, that just makes it more fun. And as fun as it has been completely crushing you in combat, duty calls.”

He sighed, giving a reluctant nod as he started to follow her — then his eyes lit up, and he grabbed her arm to stop them. “Wait, how much work do you have today?”

Y/N thought for a few seconds then shrugged. “Dunno, it varies. I got stuck working with Jaysa all this morning, so that’s going to take forever, I have my usual healing lessons with Master Rika after, and then I usually just end up going around with whatever else comes my way for the rest of the day.” She grinned and lowered her voice as if the subject of the matter could somehow hear her. “I’ve been working on a dress for my mother in secret because her birthday is coming up soon, so the free time I get between my shifts that isn’t spent with you has been going towards that.”

Zuko gaped. “You’re making her a dress all on your own, with no help? How?”

She held up her hands with a proud smile. “These things are good for waterbending, sewing, and hitting best friends.”

He gave her a sideways grin at that. “I’m your best friend?”

Y/N snickered and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, dummy. You’re like, the only person that likes me in this whole nation. Of course you’re my best friend.”

“Well…” he started. “Would a best friend like to break the rules even more tonight?”

Her eyes lit up in turn, completely betraying her excitement despite her attempt to look nonchalant about it. “That depends — what d’you have in mind?”

He grinned and leaned forward, dropping his voice to a whisper as he spoke in her ear. “So, after you finish work for the night, we…”

It was a struggle to get through all of her work after the plan that she and Zuko had formulated — sure, they broke the rules all the time. The basis of their entire friendship was breaking the rules, but this was going farther than they ever had before. Y/N wasn’t thinking about the consequences though, she was thinking about the journey — that was her first mistake.

She had rushed through all of her chores with Jaysa, hardly paid attention in her healing lessons, and made quick work of the rest of her day until she was finally able to meet up with Zuko at one of the various servant entrances that she had shown him.

“You’re finally here!” he exclaimed, his body buzzing with nervous energy. “I thought you were never gonna come.”

“Some of us actually have work to get done, mister crown prince,” she joked as she bumped his shoulder with hers. “But that doesn’t matter — let’s get going before someone catches us! I don’t want it to get too dark either.”

“It’s gonna be fine,” Zuko reassured. “My dad is in war meetings all day, no one is going to catch us. Now come on!”

Zuko pushed open the door, grabbed her hand, and began to pull her along. A laugh fell from her lips as they ran, unable to stop herself from casting a cautionary glance behind them as they got farther from the palace. Y/N tried to push her worries out of her mind — like she had told Zuko earlier, she trusted him.

That was her second mistake.

It was surprisingly easy to sneak past the guards around the wall and just as quick to get through Royal Caldera, and before Y/N knew it, they had arrived in the city.

It was nothing like she had ever seen before.

The village she had grown up in was miniscule compared to anything in the Fire Nation, and she was especially awestruck upon entering the city. As home to more middle class citizens than anything, it was a bustling marketplace filled with workers and nobles alike — if she hadn’t been preoccupied with the stars in her eyes, she would’ve been able to see the way Zuko was absolutely beaming at her.

“Come on!” he exclaimed, grabbing her hand once again as he began to walk — at a much more moderate pace than their run here — down the streets. “There’s so much here that I wanna show you. Have you ever been out here?”

She shook her head, allowing herself to gawk at her surroundings while they went down the street. “We aren’t really allowed to leave the palace since we’re technically still prisoners, just… ones that work. My mother always had to give her money to one of the other servants so that when they went out to buy their things, they could pick some stuff up for us as well. This is all totally new.”

Once again, a frown found its way onto Zuko’s face, but only for a split second before he pointed at a stall opposite to them. “Oh— there’s a fruit stand! Come on, you have to try this.”

Y/N let Zuko pull her over to the stand, looking at the array of fruits on display while Zuko conversed with the merchant. A few silver pieces later and they were walking away with a basket of produce — miraculously, the prince hadn’t been recognized, so she figured he wouldn’t need a disguise. Third mistake.

“Here,” he said, offering her a mango from the basket. “You haven’t lived until you’ve tried Fire Nation mango.”

She took the fruit from him and bit into it, her eyes immediately widening as she turned on Zuko. “Tui’s gills, this is delicious! You’re telling me that you people just have this on hand but we don’t get any of it?”

He shrugged and took a fig from the basket as Y/N wiped some juice off of her chin. “There’s a reason I’ve helped you break into the kitchens so many times. Now, where do you wanna go next?”

The pair spent the next couple of hours browsing the marketplace, enjoying their day on the Fire Lord’s coin. Zuko was more than happy to show Y/N parts of his culture after all she had taught him, and she was more than happy to experience it. They had been able to buy lanterns for the upcoming Festival of Szeto, purchase their own blends of tea leaves, and of course Zuko insisted on getting fire flakes and gummies.

(Y/N thought he was insane. Why in the world would the Fire Nation want to make food that hurt them on purpose? She was going to stick with her newfound love for mangoes.)

But Zuko hadn’t even brought her to the best part yet.

“Can I open my eyes now?” She asked, her anxious tone betraying her curiosity.

“Now you can.” Y/N was met with Zuko’s grin and as she focused on the stand in front of them, she had to make a conscious effort to not gape.

Zuko had brought her to a sewing stand with all the threads, fabrics, and silks that she could dream of in all kinds of colors. She immediately rushed forward, unable to stop herself from running her hands over and through each and every piece of material — she was in a seamstress’s heaven.

“I take that as a sign you like it?” Zuko asked happily.

“Oh, definitely,” she confirmed, still completely caught up in all the choices. “This is so much better than all the material we’re given to work with!”

“That’s why I brought you here. I thought you could get some stuff for yourself, and some stuff to help with the dress you’re making for your mom. I don’t really know how sewing works, but I thought that this was one way I could help.”

“That is so sweet of you!” she gushed. “Thank you so much — you should probably get around to some of the other stalls because I… I think I’m gonna be here for a while.”

Zuko laughed and fished out of a couple of golden pieces then set them in her hand. “That’s okay. I’ll meet you over by the steps; we can watch the sunset together.”

They nodded as parting gifts and each was enveloped in their tasks; Y/N beginning to ask the merchant questions about everything at their stand and Zuko off to entertain himself for a few more minutes.

Soon enough, Y/N had her own small bundle of silks and fabrics, her mind already going off in a million different ways of how she could incorporate it into the design. She found Zuko sitting on the steps and as she took her own seat next to him, he handed her another mango.

“Did you find everything you wanted?” She nodded and hummed gratefully as she accepted the fruit, taking a bite as her eyes fell on the skyline in front of them.

“I had a really great time today, Zuko. I really can’t thank you enough for taking me out here. I… I think I forgot what it was like to feel like this.”

“Like what?”

“...happy.” She paused for a second before allowing herself to meet his eyes. “All the time I spend with you in the palace… It’s one of the only times that I really do feel happy. And being out here today, getting to walk around where I wanted and buy things and just— I feel free, Zuko. And that means everything to me.”

She felt the heat rush to her cheeks and she turned away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go on like that—“

Zuko gently reached out for her hand, drawing her attention back to him and the soft smile on his face.

“Well… I care about you. You’re nice to me, and you take time out of your day to help me which you don’t have to do. This is just me trying to pay you back for all you’ve done to help me. We can do this more often — whenever my dad’s busy.”

Her own smile grew on her lips and she nodded as she laced her fingers with his. “I care about you too. And.. I’d like that.”

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder and together, they watched the sunset over the city.

There was no place either of them would rather be.

Y/N and Zuko made their way back to the palace as quickly as they could after realizing how late it had gotten. Y/N was sure that she was going to get the talking-to of her life after what she had done, but she was almost giddy after what had just happened. She could deal with any of Kura’s consequences later — right now the only thought in her mind was the feeling of Zuko’s hand in hers.

The night had been nothing short of perfect. She had felt freer than ever before out there in the city with Zuko, and knowing that he reciprocated the feelings she had for him was enough to make her heart burst. She cared for him, and he cared for her.

Of course, there was that nagging question of how they would continue now that their friendship had morphed into something more, but once again — it was something she would deal with later. Her fourth and final mistake.

But as a guard turned the corner, Y/N realized she might not get the chance. She quickly let go of Zuko’s hand and tucked it under the bundle of fabric, hoping that the gesture of affection had been missed by the man.

If he had noticed, he showed no sign of it. He stopped in front of them, a gruff voice speaking from behind the mask with words that made her heart stop.

“Prince Zuko, the Fire Lord has requested an audience with you.”

haha OOPS

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

ehfar: @chandies-sideblog @persica27

atla: @marianne1806

#zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #zuko fic #zuko #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar fic #avatar the last airbender fic #atla #atla fic #zuko avatar #sadie writes

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mistressemmedi · 4 years ago

Text

Måneskin: "Different from whom?"

Greetings from Miley Cyrus - phenomenal numbers.

The streams of Zitti e Buoni are growing by the second, and ahead of Muse, on the top of the English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. We almost tripled followers after Rotterdam (from 1.4 to 3.3 million, ed). Contagious and universal madness: T-shirts and merchandise sold out in 10 minutes. Like records, tickets for a tour that adds dates and expands on maps. They are even looking for us in festivals where the Rolling Stones have played. - Thomas

After the whole cocaine scandal that was started against us from France, which was later denied by my drug test, in Spain there people have been making murals with my face saying "No drugs". Some tweets made us laugh: «Congratulations, Italy! I have never been so sure that four people have fucked each other ". Miley Cyrus started following us. "You are great". “You are more” . - Damiano

From rags to riches - what a story

It was only 2016, and we were playing in restaurants, on the streets, in via del Corso (famous street in Rome). Damiano without a microphone, Thomas's guitar with broken strings, Ethan drummed on a cajón. At the occupations of the high schools in Rome (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first gigs and half an hour of fame, between those who criticized us and those who said "these guys are so cool". One of the rare times in which they offered to pay us to play - 50 euros each - we offered that money to those after us, in exchange for the chance to play during their time slow, as we knew there would have been a bigger crowd. We already understood then how it worked. That visibility was worth more than the money. We still think so ». - Victoria

The intimacy of rock - Choice of a genre

Music allows is this miracle which allows one to talk about very personal and private topics, even difficult and delicate ones. They are and remain deeply yours, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage which is like a delivery, they also find their place in you, their elaboration. They are overcome, they are accepted. One moment it feels aggressive, one moment later a (soft) ballad. It's very cathartic. - Damiano

Against panic - The stage as therapy

I have suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it is a problem that I have worked on thanks to a course of psychotherapy, to my friends and family. Playing has helped me not to let myself be paralyzed by my fears, not to be limited in my private and professional life. I have learned to accept, to live with this side of me. I don't hide it. I no longer feel ashamed. - Victoria

This belief that only crazy people go to the psychologist is widespread ignorance. Nobody is born learned. And it is often difficult to understand why we are here, let alone the derivation and direction of our desires. It is a long and legitimate journey towards one's clarity. - Damiano

Essere fuori di testa – Ma diversi da loro (Be out of your mind - But different from them)

Already feeling a strong passion for something that is not a 'regular' profession but an artistic language, it puts you on a level where you're an anomaly, and while you're neither superior nor inferior to others, it places you in the condition of what breaks the mold but you're also being at a loss, leaving it to you to be bold and to take risks, hoping that they will pay off and land you somewhere. "What good is it if you don't stand out on your own?". You want to give it an aesthetic to your artistic dream, but to others it boils down to " You dress differently! You must be gay! ”, I'm 22 now and it makes me laugh, but at 17 it had an effect on me too. - Damiano

The beauty of being unique - Of believing in that and defending it

After all, we are all different not because we want to be alternative but because really no one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty. - Ethan

Fluid sexuality - Pride is freedom

We appreciate heels on men, we kiss each other, we have an open, extended mind, and we are proud of it. The horizons become vast, beyond the oppression of conservative families. With information on the web, knowledge is enriched and with it the possibility that minorities will be fewer and fewer, because majorities will be fewer and fewer. This will lower the volume to insults and bullying. If social networks can reach a village of 50 souls to reveal to someone, who is afraid of the darkness, that someone has felt that same fear.. There is no longer the need to give it a name, to define that "something" to fear, to brand it with labels that only limit you. Definitions have always had this effect on me. Gender should not even be considered in a person's judgment. Let alone orientation ". - Victoria

Sexism - A culture to be dismantled

Emma (Italian singer) dropped the bomb:" When I went to Eurovision, they insulted me over a pair of shorts. Damiano - half naked and in heels - was never criticized ". The judgment against women is constant, ferocious, and demeaning (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool but Vic a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader she is domineering and pain in the ass, who is successful because only because of her looks [and not the hard work she puts in]). As a male I am privileged, the harassment I suffer is not comparable to that experienced by a woman, the comments on my aesthetics are focused only on my aesthetics and do not insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thinking in a systemic way. But I did find myself in a situation, out of nowhere, with someone who, pulling close to her for a selfie, started licking my face ... "What do you want, did you ask me?" Consent exists, and it is a must ». - Damiano

To grow as a person - The only rule to follow

For me, to conform is the total opposite of educating oneself, and the asphyxiation of one's expression (of freedom). Fortunately, I did not suffer heavy bullying, to the point where I felt I needed to change to adapt to how others saw me. But the matrix of who I am and the aggression that marks me is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and loves dolls, then allow me the freedom to do so. I used to be a kid who wanted long hair and played with Barbies. My friends, as a teenager, looked my long hair and teased me: "You have to find yourself a girl with a short hair to make up for it". My grandparents took the dolls away from me and said: “Stop it, they're not for you” ». - Ethan

“I was six and I already could not tolerate the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things typically defined as feminine as a child, and they made fun of me for skating, for playing soccer, for not wearing skirts, for giving myself the chance to be as I wanted to be. I suffered a little, as I was bullied, but I had courage to stay true to myself, and today thanks to that courage I know that I could have been much more hurt, or I would have risked leaving the most important decision to others: the one about being just me". - Victoria

Love - music and girlfriends

I've been married to music for the past 20 years. I cannot wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary. - Ethan

Everyone goes through their own experiences, sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad, but it's never other people's business." - Thomas

When, for the first time, I developed feelings and attraction for a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage to go beyond the limitations I had imposed on myself. For society, being heterosexual is the norm and therefore often one automatically pegs himself in that way, giving up the freedom to experience many different shades and facets of love. Once I got over the initial insecurity of having to question one's own certainties, I lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone. - Victoria

I had paparazzi under my house morning and night. So, after four years of relationship, I finally revealed her name. I still have the paparazzi under my house morning and night, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore. - Damiano

The value of the group - Protecting each other

But the real relationship, the real family, is between us. Our band. We believed in it from the first day, even before calling ourselves Måneskin (moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon, on the poster for our first concert. We share everything, even the pain of the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because he was a victim of racism. Being a group is what we should all do together: stay united and not retreat in the slightest in the face of abuses generated by a distorted vision of someone "being different|. - Thomas

Non ho l’età – like Gigliola (It references Gigliola Cinquetti who won both Sanremo and Eurovision with her song "Non ho l’età" which translates to Not old enough)

Before us, the only one to win Sanremo and Eurovision together was Gigliola Cinquetti (in 1964). Is there is something for which I feel I am not yet old enough for? No, honestly no. Maybe for kids. I'll be honest, I'm not enough to be a dad. - Damiano

Reached the sky - What fears still remain

We are more than in the dream, we have conquered the dream. To fly high this high, there is the risk is to fall and get hurt, but we will try not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - somewhat presumptuously - reassures us rather than frighten us ". - Damiano

(ORIGINAL INTERVIEW IN ITALIAN)

[Please note that I have changed some words or structure sentence, trying to make it so that the interview made more sense lol - I skipped the first two paragraphs, which was basically the interviewer gushing over how pretty the band is lmao (relatable).

Any mistakes in the translation are sorely mine, nothing was proofread, so apologies in advance]

#maneskin #ethan torchio #damiano david #victoria de angelis #thomas raggi #i'm off to drink some wine lol

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jangmi-latte · 4 years ago

Note

Hi Chii! This is for the TWST ANNIVERSARY, and scenario format is fine. Main focus line is Silver: “You want to study together? You work really hard.” Next character is Riddle: “Have you been to the library yet? You should definitely stop at least once sometime. There are a lot of books you’d fine useful there.” Oof, that was a lot, and hopefully I did this right, if not I can always resend it if you’d like! ~🍒cherry nonnie

╰──➢ “ You want to study together? You work really hard. ”

❥ cherry nonnie, is everything alright? you’ve been making me smile from your asks but i understood you on your first ask <3. may our waiters, silver & riddle rosehearts, treat you with this anniversary special dessert!

“Oh, hello there.”

He greeted you with a gentle smile; no it wasn’t Silver, it was his father. You-- a young-second year no older than seventeen -- bowed at the older mage in a sign of respect.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Vanrouge! I assume Silver already told you about my arrival?”

“Of course he did,” tittered the old fae as he let you in. “He surprisingly woke up earlier than he usually does.” Lilia led you towards the lounge of their shared home within the Valley of Thorns.

“Oh, one more thing--” he opened the door to the lounge, “--avoid the second floor for now. Malleus is still asleep. We wouldn’t want to disturb him. Though, I trust you and Silver to keep it down with whatever you two plan to do today.”

You nodded, going inside after thanking him. Your eyes scanned the room in wonder. The Valley of Thorns’ common interior design always held dark colors. The only exception is when one of the home’s residents is light-colored, y’know? Like, tousled silver hair scattered on the couch arm, maybe even a white turtleneck hugging his figure, his aurora-colored eyes closed for the world not to see, and his pinkish lips slightly open while soft even breaths blew out.

And Lilia said he woke up early, yes?

“Silver,” you whispered out, looking over the door while folding your lips and looking back at the young man on the couch. “Silver,” you called out louder, nudging the said man until he groaned and opened his eyes.

As his eyes came to view, you leaned forward, waving at him with a closed-lip smile. “Good morning-- or should I say afternoon?” you giggled. Silver blinked, and blinked, and blinked. His brain slowly processed what happened until he recognized your face. Jolting up into a sitting position he rubbed his eyes as he muttered, “I fell asleep...again?”

“Nothing I’m not used to. But I’m glad you actually waited for me.”

You sat on the windowsill across from him, and while you looked at the horses at the nearby stable, you heard him shuffling from where he sat. Still looking a tad bit drowsy, he watched as you swung your legs back and forth. “I wanted to ask for some help. You’re the only one who I can approach since, well, you’re the only one I’m closed with. I also believe you’re great at teaching.”

Confused, Silver stood up from the couch and stood beside you on the window, “You’re saying?”

“I want to study with you when it comes to horseback riding. I really need to ace my exam,” you said, gulping as you watched one of the horses run around freely. You were never confident around horses. Not that they scare you, it’s just because of their boisterous behavior. They can kick and probably trample over you if you don’t handle them properly.

“You want to study together?” Silver mumbled, glancing at you while you nervously glanced at the horses.

“If it’s no trouble, Silv. I just really need some help.” Your eyes met his. He could sense your determination despite the worry and nervousness in your system. He doesn’t doubt his horseback riding skills, yet he knew himself that he has more training to do. Maybe, both of you can learn something new together.

“Alright,” he agreed, “Let’s head to the stables.”

The height of the horses baffled you. Horses are no stranger to the Valley of Thorns yet you never actually got a chance to come near one considering you never even needed to. Each horse held their own distinctive color; white, brown, black, spotted, and there was even one with a long white mane and a thick tail. It was beautiful.

Silver caught sight of you staring at one of the attractive horses their stable owned. It was his horse. “Do you want to ride Cloud?” His hand caressed the horse’s snout -- the mammal exhaled as a response to the touch.

“Cloud?” you repeated, reaching out to gently touch her soft mane. “She’s so beautiful...”

“She’s a rare Gypsy Vanner. A gift from father when I first rode a horse. You could say she’s become a friend of mine,” Silver shared, and while you listened, a smile stretched on your lips. “Then you must really be fond of her,” you said.

“We grew up together, so to say.” Silver cleared his throat and opened the stable door, his hand tightly held the reigns as he let Cloud out of the stable. The way she lightly neighed, her little shakes of relief, and the way she nudged Silver made you giggle yet feel weary. What if she doesn’t like you? What if she ran too fast?

“Don’t be scared. She doesn’t hurt anyone,” Silver reassured as he adjusted the saddle. “Anyways, what is your exam about?” You followed him towards the equestrian facility (the place where horses are trained), walking beside him as you eyed Cloud.

“Just basic horseback riding training. Cantering, galloping, trotting…” you explained. Not that hard, yes? You don’t need to have Cloud jump over bars or make her do tricks. Just basic running techniques to pass your exam. Silver, is no doubt, surprised. It’s really simple. But what if you held another horse?

He hummed, letting Cloud stand steadily, he reached out for your hand and led it towards the horse. “It’s important that the horse knows you. They need to trust you in order to listen to you. I don’t want you to make the same mistake I did before.” Your hand felt Cloud’s soft fur around her neck. It exhaled in delight, signifying that she knows you and would most likely trust you.

“What did you do?”

Silver looked away embarrassed, he vaguely remembers the day like it was just yesterday. How could he forget the fact a horse nearly sent him flying just because he rode it immediately without even acknowledging the fact it’s a wild horse. Thanks to the Great Seven, Lilia and Malleus were there to calm the horse down and grab him before he got severely injured.

“It’s nothing… Come, I’ll help you up.”

Oh, to be aware of one’s touches must be quite a delight to both parties. You hooked your left foot around the stirrup while Silver held your hand as support while you lifted yourself up the horse’s saddle. Once you’re sat, he immediately kept Cloud steady as he looked up at you. “You good?”

You nodded, smiling down at the horse. “Good girl,” you cooed.

Silver looked at the path ahead of you, he wondered -- should he ride behind you or hold the reins until you got the hang of it? You’re still a beginner and he could either lead you properly by riding along or just standing by. When he was young, Lilia would ride behind him on the horse and he would just learn by watching him handle the reins.

Think, Silver, think.

“Are you getting up? I really don’t trust myself with the horse when you let me handle her alone…”

There’s the answer.

And now he’s behind you with his hands on yours as you both hold the reins. Cloud was trotting on the dirt as gently as Silver ordered her to do. Though with your obliviousness -- more of just being focused on his guide -- you failed to notice the fact that the young man behind you is enjoying your company.

You would squeal out loud if Cloud decided to go faster or tightly hold onto his hand and lean on his chest if you felt like falling off. It was hard not to find you adorable. And yet you’re still determined to learn. Back in NRC, he, Riddle, and Sebek would often yell at each other if one decides to flop. It’s not easy to handle horses, and yet you’re here handling Cloud well. Someday, you’ll ride another horse with confidence and just by yourself.

He tried to hop off the horse and let you handle Cloud on your own, maybe you aren’t the slickest or the fastest of learners, but you sure could control a horse now. Silver’s instincts were just as fast as he trained himself to be, almost running by your side when Cloud gets too excited with running.

He stayed so alert.

Hell, he didn’t even doze off in a while.

“You work hard,” he praised you after you were able to halt the horse’s running smoothly. Both of you sharing a grin before proceeding with the next course. Hours and hours of practice, and you’re learning.

Lilia even forgot what in the living fuck he was boiling as he stared outside at the both of you. “Now, Silver didn’t tell me he had a little date.”

╰──➢ “ Have you been to the library yet? You should definitely stop at least once sometime. There are a lot of books you’d fine useful there ”

“I thought you would know the way around the Rose Kingdom since you live here,” Cater teased as he looked out the window of the train he and Riddle sat in. The younger boy scoffed and crossed his arms.

“I barely go out of my home. I’m even surprised you know the place more than I do. I know the area but not how to go there.” Riddle sighed, looking down at the phone on his lap once he heard it ring from a message.

A message from you.

That’s right; the only reason Riddle is heading somewhere with Cater was that you offered to visit a historical museum with him. The purpose of this little trip was for you to learn something in terms of magical history. Where’s the fun in just sitting down and reading in your bedroom when you can experience the said history hands-on?

Cater was there to accompany Riddle throughout the journey and would most likely explore his own way while you two converse about whatever question and lesson you had in mind. You knew Riddle was one of the top students in his school. You also knew he wouldn’t refuse an opportunity for him to teach you something he knows.

When the train stopped, both students went off and down the museum just a few blocks away from the station. In front of the said museum was what Cater called: Riddle’s date. No, it was, in no way, a date. It was a simple study session. “Just in time, as always.” You stood up from the bench you were sitting on and met the two guys halfway. Cater had waved at you while Riddle looked at the exterior design of the museum.

It was a museum dedicated to the Queen of Hearts.

Riddle has been there a couple of times already. He has learned to love the place; though it's been a few years since he last visited.

"I'll leave you two here. There's a mall near this place and I wanna look around. See ya, Riddle, y/n!" Cater waved as he walked away. Riddle’s eyes moved back to you, watching as you looked at the museum, "Let's head in!"

You thought, again, thought, that the museum would be bustling with people left and right considering how popular it was in the Rose Kingdom. However, the moment you entered its walls, there were only around fifteen to twenty-five people inside — for the most part, you were in the main lobby.

"What are your concerns about?" Riddle began as he looked up at the huge statue of the Queen of Hearts situated in the middle of the lobby. Astonish were thee as you read the description of the queen.

'The Queen had only one way of settling all difficulties, great or small. 'Off with his head!' she said, without even looking around.'

"She was very powerful, indeed," he said whilst he looked at the decoy of the queen's crown situated in a case. "Those who looked at her, or even heard her name, are terrified."

"What magic does she hold?" you asked, circling the statue as Riddle followed behind.

"She holds great physical strength. As you can see—" Riddle pointed at the statue, "—she was big. Though some would label her as fat due to what Alice said, but in our school, she was mighty. I do wonder how she was able to grow so strong." He walked ahead of you and towards a painting. In that painting held the Queen of Hearts while she played croquet.

"Not only that. She aced in croquet and she ruled over her kingdom for how long. You could say she held authority no one could handle. Not even her own guards and husband."

As he spoke, your legs brought you over the hallways that held marvelous paintings of the queen. He was just by your side the whole time. "You did say you were in a dorm that's named after her, yes?" you asked, looking over at him.

Riddle nodded. "The statue you saw in the main hall was the same statue that's near our school's entrance. It's only proper for her to be standing there. She is one of the Great Seven after all."

"And you're the dorm leader in that dorm. You also have her rules applied to your very dorm. Tell me, Riddle. Do you admire her?" You both stood in front of another glass case. This time, holding the Queen of Hearts' sceptre. A heart with a gold staff, not even a single speck of withering is shown. It looked so expensive and very antique.

Riddle was quiet after you asked the question. Looking at him, you noticed how he stared at the queen's sceptre. Just above that sceptre was another painting of the queen, it was her on her throne with a villainous smirk on her face. It sent shivers down your spine.

"I do."

You faced Riddle once again. He had a serious expression on his face as he faced you. "She's the reason why I became the dorm leader that I am today. It was by my own choice to follow her rules and her doings. Not only for myself but for the sake of my dorm."

"Riddle..."

His voice held the authority of a dorm leader you never got to hear — considering as you go to different schools. You don't know how he is as a dorm leader, but judging by how he looked at the queen's painting, it's enough to convince you that he, Riddle Rosehearts…

Is the King of Heartslabyul.

The glass case that held the sceptre had a small hole — big enough to fit a hand or two — with a note above: 'Touch with precaution'. With a little bit of hesitation, you reached out and touched the sceptre. Warmth seeped through his hand as Riddle, too, reached out to touch the sceptre only for it to land on your hand. You both froze, staring at each other in surprise. It was he who pulled away first, cheeks painted as red as the hallway's walls.

"H-Have you been to the library yet? We should definitely stop at least once sometime." He coughed out, looking away from you. "There are a lot of books you’d find useful there. Didn't you say you wanted to know more about the queen's history based on your topic for your exam?"

And he walked ahead.

Your hand slowly moved to your chest after you let go of the sceptre. Looking down to your feet as you chuckled to yourself. Folding your lips as you covered your mouth and looked back at Riddle's walking figure.

The Queen— well, King — of Hearts may have a temperament. But he sure can be admirable at times when needed…

"Are you coming or not?"

#twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #silver twisted wonderland #twst silver #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #twisted wonderland silver x reader #diasomnia #diasomnia x reader #heartslabyul #heartslabyul x reader #twst imagines #night raven college #twisted wonderland scenarios

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lilith-of-rivia · 4 years ago

Text

The Bard’s Sister

Geralt X Reader

Part 2

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Masterlist

Summary: Geralt of Rivia and his long time travel companion Jaskier find themselves in Jaskiers home land. A place Geralt had not only never seen nor heard of. Jaskier is ready to reunite its his family after traveling and exploring the world for 20 years. The one person he missed the most was his baby sister (Y/N). Who he hadn't seen since she was 5. The journey is long, but the pay off is grander then they would ever be able to predict. This is still part of our introduction to the main characters and their personalities in this story. Next chapter will be more about (Y/N) and Geralt. I know I am trash at summaries.

I would like to state that I do plan on adding a pregnancy in the future to this story. (I know Geralt is steril. Just bare with me and the story line I’ve created) I just wanted to let eveyone know because I would hate for someone to get attached to the character and story only to have a plot line they do not like for themselves. I know not everyone like pregnancy plot lines but I’m such a sucker for dad!Geralt.

Trigger warnings: Cursing

Pairings: GeraltxReader JaskierxSister!reader

Word count: 6,369

(Changed from 3rd to 1st person)

The sun was high in the sky, it was nearly two in the afternoon. The garden below the large windows of the castle was shining brightly. The birds chirping, children playing in the river that ran through the center of the city. Life was good. The sun was shining a little brighter today. It was because Jaskier was finally home.

I hadn’t realized how much I missed him till he was back. After breakfast, we walked around the castle’s courtyard. He and Geralt introduced me to their horses. To my pleasant surprise, Roach took a particular liking to me, as did her owner. He was nothing like the rumors. There were many times that I traveled out of our borders into the western part of the continent, and every time people had nothing but cruel fowl things to say about the poor witcher. Sure he wasn't perfect, but no one was.

“Would you like to see my studies?” I asked as we walked down the long corridors that lead to three separate staircases. I glanced between the two men that were on either side of me.

“Your studies?” Jaskier asked looking down at me. I couldn’t help but smile.

“I told you in my letter that I’ve been working with a man over the last couple of years. He has trained me well. But I have many books, drawings notes all sorts of stuff that I’ve written about the world outside of our home.” We approached the base of the three staircases.

“I’ve never seen a castle so big in my life.” Geralt’s sultry voice flooded my ears once again. I couldn’t help but smile up at him. He was so polite. He never turned his nose at us. I knew he didn’t have a very positive history with others like us. Yet he sent no judgment towards myself or my parents. He just listened, followed, and learned. I had never met someone so open to the world yet so closed off that the same time, and we’ve barely even begun to get o know each other.

“Our mines are some of the richest you’d ever see in your life. From coal to diamonds. Nearly 85% of all ores get mined and sent out to the rest of the continent.” I started walking up the staircase on the far left, the stairs led up a long corridor that was open and bright, the mountains that shielded us from the rest of the world in perfect view. Both were still by my side. I stopped at the first picture that hung on the wall.

“That’s my great-great-grandfather, he only recently passed but he started all of this.” I looked towards Geralt. He was listing intently, his eyes on me as soon as I looked in his direction. I knew Jaskier knew our history so I wasn't too worried if he was paying attention or not.

“He came here from Termieria with his 6 younger brothers. The mines here had been closed for many many years. The town was completely deserted. There was a serious necrophage problem that no one wanted to deal with, so they just up and left. Leaving the plentiful mines full for someone else.”

“Necrophages?” Geralt questioned his eyebrow tiling in curiosity.

“The people who inhabited the lands before we did, had not known of the creatures. Didn’t properly bury the dead. My grandfather wrote in his journal that when they got here the streets were lined with bodies that had been drug out of their shallow graves, crypts had been broken into. His best guess is that a flue came before the people fled, killing many in a short period.” I started walking ahead of the two men, down the hall towards my room. I pushed the door open walking in placing my books on the night table as they followed in slowly behind me. Their eyes wandered over every inch. Jaskier started wandering through the room looking at every picture on the wall. Most of them were sketches, mostly of him. Or the people he sang about in his ballads. He grabbed one off the wall and laughed softly.

“Who is this supposed to be?” I walked over to him and laughed softly, my cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.

“That, that uh was my first sketch of Geralt.” The sound of his name got his attention, he was trying to be polite and not snoop. Although I didn't care if he wanted to look around. He walked away from the door over to Jaskier and me. He lingered behind me, very close behind me. I could feel his body heat on my back and his warm breath on my face as he peered over my shoulder at the parchment Jaskier was holding.

“How old were you when you did this?” Jaskier asked.

“Eighteen, maybe nineteen. It was after your first balled about your adventures with Geralt that started to spread like wildfire. I went to a tavern one night with a friend and someone was singing it. I was intrigued by the song and asked them who they sang about. I was told they didn't write the song, our very own Prince had. So I listened to them play it over and over. I asked around the and so see if people knew what the famed witcher looked like. I got conflicting answers from nearly everyone I asked.” Geralt reached his arm over me, his hand gently brushing my arm, sending chills down my spine. His hand grasped the paper as he looked at it closely.

“They got the hair color right. That was about all. Some people have some very wild depictions that I drew, but none in any seriousness.” The particular one they were examining was nothing like Geralt. They got everything wrong but his hair color. Many people said he was a scrawny young lad with the strength of thousands of men, making him easier to blend in with the crowds. Granted this was very early on in my brother and the Witcher’s adventures together so not many people had paid close attention to the witcher.

“You drew what people described?” Geralt asked.

“Yes, some people tried to pay me but I told them to give it to the needy. I traveled with Serena for a couple of weeks right after I turned nineteen, we didn't venture far past the mountains but it was enough.” I couldn't help but frown at the memories of the people in the towns scowling and sticking their noses in the air when I asked about the Witcher and my brother.

“Can I see the other ones?” Geralt’s question took me by surprise.

“I don’t know…”

“Oh come on, you're very talented (Y/N), let him see them,” Jaskier said and shoved my shoulder playfully. I smiled softly at him but shook my head.

“It is not that I’m self-conscious of my work, it’s the depictions of Geralt outside of our Kingdom, for the most part, were cruel and inaccurate beyond belief. I only drew them because I was wasting their time asking questions. I honestly don't know why I kept them.” I nervously rubbed the back of my neck, the idea of Geralt seeing those ugly, horrendous, depictions of himself made my stomach turn. He didn’t deserve the hate he received. I never understood why people despised Witchers the way they did. I only experienced it outside of our kingdom. For some reason, whether it be our pure lack of monsters or the abundance of sunshine, my people seemed happier. Less judgmental than the outside world. I was grateful to live in such a kind and caring place, but it does get rather dull after a while.

“I’d still like to see them.” Geralt said softly as he handed the parchment back to me. I sighed slightly uncomfortable with the idea, I took the parchment and hung it back up on the wall.

“Let’s make a deal,” I said turning to them both.

“Oh boy.” Jaskier teased.

“I’ll show you the drawings if you let me paint you now, so I have an accurate model. Not just words.” Geralt’s eyes looked over me, his arms crossing over his chest. A small smirk formed over his lips as he watched me intently.

“If you want to draw me so bad, just ask dove.” The nickname nearly threw me off my feet. My heartbeat quickened at a rapid pace and I couldn't even look him in the eye. Jaskier snickered and pulled out a chair by my desk. He was enjoying this way too much. I cleared my throat swelling thickly.

“T-that I uh..” I had never been one to not have words. According to my parents, I talked too much. Just like my brother. Yet here I was gobsmacked and wordless. I grumbled under my breath moving to the desk Jaskier was sat at and made him move. He got up and I sat down. I opened the top hatch of the desk, lifting out folders and files of archives. Some containing spells, some more drawing, history of the continent, and even monster facts that I knew I wouldn’t ever need. I placed the folders on the floor. Jaskier grabbed a few and moved to my bed plopping himself down kicking his feet up. My head snapped over to him as he put his dirty boots all over my fresh linens.

“Jaskier. If you don't get your boots off my bed, I will castrate you.” I warned turning back around rummaging some more. I heard him kick off his shoes. Geralt chuckled behind me.

“Fiery are we.” He teased but I ignored him. Finally, at the bottom of all my work, I found the folder. I held it up to him, not wanting to watch his face as he looked at the disgusting depictions of himself.

“Thank you, dove.” His lip was right next to my ear. I felt frozen.

I couldn't tell if it was genuinely just a flirt or if this was directed to me. Sure I had heard the rumors of the witcher and his many women of the night, including the sorceress Yennefer. But this seemed different. I snapped back to reality when he let out a low chuckle. I turned around and stood up, peering over his arm to see what one he was looking at. This one was particularly nasty. His eyes were slanted like snake eyes, large fangs protruded out of his mouth, and his hair was a crazy mess. His eyes were blood red, his nose crooked from supposedly being punched so many times. His face was littered with so many scars he had scale-like skin. I remembered the man who gave me that description.

“I met this man in a tavern in Solveiga, it’s the furthest I've ever been from home.” Jaskier stood up walking over and looking at the drawing Geralt was studying carefully. I didn't know why he was spending so much time on such a cruel piece.

“He said you came through a few winters prior, he and a bunch of the townsmen had gathered some coins so you'd get rid of a Striga. I knew was lying the moment he opened his mouth.” Geralt looked up from the payment, his eyes meeting mine.

“Why do you think he's lying?” I took the folder from him, and just as I expected the parchment below the picture he was looking at was full of my notes. Every time I traveled and spoke to people about it. My brother or his companions took incredibly detailed notes, I never wanted to forget anything. I took the parchment out before handing him the folder back. I began to read the notes:

“This man takes me for a fool. No more than some silly girl. While he sits here and tells the tale of the Wolf he seems to be forgetting the incredibly important fact about Strigas, they only hunt during a full moon. He keeps saying that the beast was hunting their people every single night, slashing children, men, women, animals, every night for months. He’s using it to fuel the people's hatred of the witcher. He’s attempting to claim that they sent for him as soon as they knew of her presence. Claiming the witcher waited nearly three months before coming to discard the beast.” I flipped the page over scanning the meticulous notes.

“He said the beast was killed on a new moon, he said he remembers it so vividly because of the lack of moonlight while he escorted the witcher to her crypt. I may not be a witcher, but I am not stupid. The man is trying to make matters worse by lying through his crooked yellow teeth. How dare he tarnish a name for the sake of his prosperity.” Geralt chuckled at the last part making me look up at him, he had an amused smile on his face, his eyes twinkled as he looked at me.

“Why are you laughing?” I tilted my head to the side slightly and he just shook his head, putting the folder of parchment into the desk. He knelt and began picking up the rest of the folders neatly placing them inside the desk where they came from.

“Because you got so mad that someone lied about me, yet you at the time were not even sure I was a real thing-“

“Person.” I quickly corrected him. His eyes glanced at me, he didn't move his head as he continued placing my papers where they belonged.

“What?” He asked.

“You called yourself a thing, you're not a thing Geralt. You're a real living breathing person.” His eyes found my own again. My heart raced as he studied my eyes. I had never seen anything so beautiful. His eyes were like hot pools of gold and honey. The complexity of the colors was mesmerizing.

“And I wasn't only mad that he was lying about you, I was mad that he was lying in general. About something anyone could disprove if they just picked up a book on monsters.” I noticed the parchment with the drawing he was just looking at was on my bed. I grabbed it to put it back on the desk. Geralt's strong hand gently grasped my wrist stopping me. His other hand gently grabbed the parchment from my hand.

“I’d like to keep this one if you don't mind.” I looked at him shocked.

“Why that one?? Of all the ones I've done you choose one of the most inaccurate and the crudest?” It made no sense to me. Why did he want that? Was it some fun game of his to think he was just some stupid monster?

“Because it shows your talent in a way the others don't. And besides, you got my nose perfectly. No one can do that.” I sighed heavily not liking the idea of him possessing such a cured drawing that was drawn purely on lies.

“Fine. Keep it.” He smiled vicariously. I’d let him keep every single one if he smiled like that all the time. The smile quickly vanished when Jaskier came back over with the first file he took. The one he had been studying was full of my notes on herbology and alchemy.

“You are incredibly smart (Y/N), I felt as though I was reading Yennefer’s notes.” A huge smile spread across my face at his compliment.

“Thank you, Jax.” Geralt was now walking around my room, hands tucked under his arms as he studied the drawing and notes hanging on the walls. Some drawings were of monsters, some of the random people I’d met on my short travels, some maps I’d drawn up so I’d remember where I wanted to go when I had the chance.

“Your talent is very wide-ranging, little dove. I have to say I’m very impressed with your knowledge.” That blasted nickname nearly kicked me off my feet again.

I looked out my window noticing the sun was getting lower in the sky.

“If you'd like to get new clothes I’d suggest we do it now, it’ll be dark soon and the shops close earlier in the week.” Gertrude turned to me, nodding his head.

“Please. These pants are so tight I’m afraid I may lose my legs.”

We walked down the street. The sun was close to setting in the sky. The cool air kissed my bare chest as we walked. It was a comfortable silence between the three of us. For the first time in my life, I felt comfortable in silence. I hated the quiet with most people, it left room for negative thoughts, negative energies. Most times when it was unbearably quiet when I was present was because I was shut down from talking by the people around me. I know they meant no harm, I knew I had a lot to handle at times. I was just lonely. Board. I only had a few true friends. Most of the people I grew up with were married and with children now. I spent a lot of time alone, I liked being alone. It gave me space to think about the world. The world outside my small one.

We approached the seamstress, walking through the wood door. A small bell rang in as we entered. Hildi walked out from the back, a bright smile on her face. She was a sweet older woman, not much older than my mum. She had been running this shop for as long as I could remember. She was the best seamstress in the country in my opinion.

“Princess (Y/N)!! What a lovely surprise!” She walked around the counter and hugged me softly. Her hands-on the sweater I was in. She made it for me many years back for a birthday gift. She always had the best gifts. Full of love. I did adore the woman. Her attention turned to the men next to me. Her eyes grew bigger, her hand gently coming up to her chest.

“My gods. The rumors were true. Jaskier!! How wonderful it is to see you again!!” Her hands wrapped around my brother who hugged her back. I couldn't tell if he remembered her or if he was just being nice. As she released him she looked at Geralt who was visibly tense, scared that she may try and hug him.

“You must be Geralt of Rivia!” He nodded.

“Rain!! Get out here!! And bring me my Witcher’s guide!!” Geralt's eyebrows furrowed at the mention of the book. He shot me a glance and I just smiled. A few moments later Hildi’s daughter Rain appeared. She was my age. We knew each other in school. She was never nice to me. Picked on me. Would make jokes about Jaskier not being around. I never told anyone, in fear people would think I was nothing but a stuck up princess. Her presence made me uneasy. I slowly took a small step back, inching closer to my brother. Rain’s eyes landed on Geralt. I could practically see the drool pooling in her mouth.

“Gods save me.” She moaned out. I had to fight off the urge to cringe at her outward burst.

“The tales are true then?” She looked directly at me.

“So maybe you weren’t lying all these years.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

Hildi was very blind to her daughter's cruelness. After her husband passed away it was just her and Rain. She’d do anything for her. I understood that. She was a devoted mother and wife. I knew how heartbroken she was. She walked to Rain and took the book from her hand and grabbed a quill that had been dipped in ink. She turned to Geralt, a very soft smile on her face.

“Would you sign this for me?” His eyes bulged out of his head.

“Y-you want me to sight your book?” I held back a giggle at his shock. He truly wasn't used to being appreciated.

“Yes, please. If it is not too much to ask. Your stories were what got me through my husband’s death. Had it not been for the ballads and tales of your great bravery I may have not made it through.” Geralt’s shoulders softened at her words. He nodded his head and walked over to the counter. She opened the book to the first page and he scribbled down his name before giving her a soft smile. She gently placed her hand on his arm and squeezed.

“You are truly a great hero here Geralt. If our country had a mascot, you'd be it.” Jaskier chucked lowly at her comment making me swat the back of his he’d. He hissed in pain and looked at me. I glared at him.

“Do not ruin this for him,” I whispered.

Hildi turned her attention back to me and smiled.

“What can I do for you today my dear?”

“Well as you can see, Jaskier has a sore taste in fashion and also doesn’t understand sizing. I was hoping you could fit them in some better, more comfortable garments. Maybe a set of nice clothes for my party as well?” She gleamed. She hurried around her counter, grabbing a piece of parchment and measuring tape. She came back around and wasted no time in messing the two men. I sat down at a table by the window and watched as she rummaged through somethings in the back of her store.

“So you're like a real witcher?” Rain’s voice caught my attention. She was leaning over the counter, her dress pulled down, the cleavage of her breasts on clear display as she dumbly curled her blond hair in her fingers.

“No. I'm a fake one.” Geralt said back unamused.

“But like are the rumors true?” She asked leaning even further over the counter. She was trying so desperately hard to get him to look down her dress. But he was simply uninterested. I felt my heartburn with envy. I hated that it did. He wasn't mine, he was nowhere near it. But the thought of him looking at her like that made my blood boil.

“Rumors about what?” He took a step back from the counter slowly making his way over to where Jaskier and I were.

“Ya know. About your huge cock.” Jaskier and I both choked on our spit. My hand flew over my mouth to keep my laugh in. It was a good thing her mother’s hearing wasn't all that great. Geralt looked visibly uncomfortable. He sat down in the chair next to me, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Jaskier and I were both trying to get ourselves under control after her question. She was completely unfazed. She thought she was hot shit.

“Common witcher. Tear me apart. Show me the real monster you can be.” That sentence made my grip on the chair so tight I thought I could’ve broken the arm in half. I probably could have if I did not have any self-control. I’m much stronger than I look.

“Do not call him that.” I hissed. My teeth were clenched so hard I was sure I was breaking them. Her eyes flicked over to me. She looked me up and down trying to size me up.

“Call him what? A witcher. Honey are you dumb. That’s what he is.” In a second I was inches from her face. I could feel my blood pumping thru my veins.

“Do not ever call him a monster again.” I was a bit shocked at how mean I sounded. I had never been this angry with her before. I wanted to punch her stupid smile in more than anything.

“(Y/N)..” I heard Jaskier’s voice behind me. He was very close to me. My hands were balled in fists at my sides. My knuckles were turning white with how angry I was.

“I promise you, studying princess, he's been called worse.” She smiled cheekily at me and her hand came up and she attempted to pat my face like I was a dog. My reflexes were much faster than she realizes. I grabbed ahold of her wrist in an intron grip. I began to squeeze and bend her wrist back away from my face. Her face contorted in pain. She wasn't expecting me to be as strong as I was.

“I said-'' I squeezed harder, and she gasped slightly as she tried to pull her hand away. “Do not call him that.” I threw her hand away from me before turning around and walking by the window. I hadn't realized both Jaskier and Geralt were standing behind me.

Moments later Hildi came out completely oblivious to the scene that just took place. She had a cloth sack filled with clothes and placed them on the counter.

“Alright, dearly that’ll be 45 coins.” She said as she wrote down the total in her book. I stood quickly pulling the amount from my coin purse and putting it in her hand. I smiled at her as best I could, Jaskier grabbed the bag of clothes.

“If something doesn’t go right, bring them back.”

“Thank you Hildi, very much.” Geralt said a charming smile on his lip. He gently shook her hand kissing the top of it.

“Thank you, Geralt. It was a pleasure meeting you. Don’t be a stranger.” She patted his cheek as a mum does. I turned on my heels and walked out of the shop. The cold air hit my hot face. My blood pumped slow and hard through my veins as the anger disappeared from my body. Jaskier came out of the shop and threw his arm over my shoulders leaning into me.

“Thank you.” He whispered lowly, Great not being very far behind us as we walked to the castle.

“For?”

“Defending him. Many people don’t realize how much he’s heard throughout his lifetime. I’m glad I’m not the only one who wants to help.” I turned to him and smiled. I leaned into his side hugging him gently before, turning around walking backward as I looked at Geralt.

“If you would like, I’ll show you both to your rooms, and you can change. We can then have tea in the garden and I can draw you.” A soft smile graced his lips, his eyebrow rising softly.

“You seriously want to draw me?” I nodded my head and stopped walking, but he didn’t. He kept getting closer and closer till he was a few inches from me.

“Yes, Geralt I do. You have a special spot in my heart, not just because I believe you are a true knight. And many people are just too scared to admit that, but also for keeping my brother safe all these years. You deserve to feel appreciated.” His features softened as his eyes searched my face before settling on my own eyes. His hand gently came up and he moved a small piece of hair from my face.

“A deal is a deal, little dove.” I felt as though my soul was being sucked out through his hand. Every fiber in my body wanted to pull him closer to me, to show him love, and tenderness. Something I knew he never actually had.

“Good, follow me,” I said with a smile.

After I showed them to their rooms; my brother’s old room not far from my own, and Geralt’s which shared a wall with my room, I went down to the garden. My easel, charcoals, and paints were set up on the table as they came down from changing and freshening up. Geralt looked more beautiful in clothes he could breathe in. his attire was so simple yet he made it look like the finest silks and jewels. It was a soft cotton button-down, it was loos on him, his pants were tight, but in a way that allowed him to move and feel free. I could tell by the way he walked he felt much more comfortable and in his element.

“You look like you feel better,” I said with a smile. Even Jaskier changed. A white shirt. And some black pants. He looked as he always did when I was a kid. The obscene choices in fashion were only adopted after he left home.

“I do.” I plainly said, a small smile on his lips. He and Jaskier sat down and I poured them tea. They both snacked on a few fruit tarts while I began sketching the background of the garden. allowing them to eat and not have to sit still just yet.

“So...while I draw maybe you could both share a story?” I glanced behind my paper and looked at the two. Jaskier smiled and leaned back into his chair fixing his hair and popping open a few buttons for the portrait.

“What story do you want to hear?” Geralt asked. Leaning back, his shoulders relaxing, a small piece of hair fell from the bit that he had tied back. It looked deliciously messy. It made him look disheveled, nearly like he was right out of bed.

“Wait!” I yelled and grabbed his hand gently, pulling his hand back softly.

“I like it. Keep it.” his hand went back down to his leg to rest. His eyes watched me for a few minutes. I studied their faces beginning my base sketches.

“What story shall we tell her Geralt?” Jaskier asked as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back to the sky, the last of the light kissing his skin.

“We could tell her about the Djinn?” Geralt said back, glancing at Jaskier before looking back at me, a coy smile on his face.

“A Djinn?? I’ve only ever read myths about them. You encountered one?” My curiosity was blossoming, the urge to get more details about the creatures I had been taught about.

“Geralt here was going onto day gods knows what on no sleep. He was beyond grumpy.” Jaskier tilted his head back up and looked at me with a smirk.

“The git said my singing was like a pie with no filling!!” I couldn’t hold back my laugh. It was much louder than I wanted, not very ladylike at all.

“Oh… I may have to steal that one.” I said in between giggles, whipping my eyes.

“I was hoping to use a wish from the Djinn to help me sleep. But unfortunately, your brother got in the way.” As Geralt spoke I moved into his details on his face, my eyes traveling all over his beautiful face. From the way, his brows arched to the cute little dimple on his chin. His face was beautiful. Some scares were prominent enough that I could see them if I looked hard enough he had one on his cheek, it looked newer than all the others, the skin being a bit lighter than the rest of his skin.

“What did he do this time?”

“He decided that because I told him I no longer appreciated his singing that he would take the Djinn away from me till I took back what I said.”

“And let me guess, you didn’t take it back?” I glanced at him from behind my easel, he was watching me closely, his eyes slanted like he was studying a pray.

“No. No, he didn’t. And I almost died!” Jaskier shouted dramatically causing my eyes to drift from Geralt over to him.

“Don’t be dramatic Jaskier,” I mumbled, putting down the charcoal I had been using. Now turning my attention to the paints I had in front of me. I started mixing the colors Id need for Geralt’s skin tone.

“No, this time he’s right. He did almost die. Unfortunately for Jaskier, he refused to let go of the vase the Djinn was in. While we tugged on it, the lid came off. Maybe the Djinn knew I was a witcher and its curse wouldn’t work on me, or maybe it was just annoyed at Jaskier. Either way, it attacked him.” My eyes were focused on the painting, brows furrowed as he spoke. I waited a moment for him to continue but he didn’t.

“I’m listing Geralt, please continue,” I said my eyes moving to his, the colores pooling in my head as I prepared for what pigments id be using to paint them.

“I don’t want to interrupt.” I shook my head a soft smile on my face.

“I will,” Jaskier said as he sipped his tea, looking at me.

“The Djinn attacked my throat. Made it swell, I was coughing up blood.” My painting stopped as I looked at him. My stomach sank a little as he spoke. I knew Jaskier had been put in harm’s way before but hearing the first-hand accounts made my stomach ache.

“Geralt took me to an elven healer that wasn’t too far from where the river bed was. Unfortunately for me, he couldn’t help me. But he knew of a mage that could help.” My hand started to paint again, filling in the sketch with colors on Jaskier’s face as he spoke.

“We can skip over those details Jaskier.” Geralt huffed crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why? Don’t want my baby sister knowing that we had to sit threw an entier orgey just for you to speak to the mage?” Jaskier snickered looking away from me to his friend,

“Jaskier, shut up.” Geralt grumbled. His eyes avoided my own when I went to look at him.

“An orgey?” I had heard the word but hadn’t ever fully understood what it was.

“What’s that?” I questioned looking at my brother. His head fell back as he cackled.

“Oh dear sister how you’ve been so sheltered from the world.” My cheeks flushed red at his words.

“Jaskier don’t be rude,” I mumbled grabbing a fine liner brush from my pile. Adding some final detail into Jaskier’s blue eyes.

“It’s when a very large group of people get together in one room and have sex.” The blood rushed to my head at his words. I could feel my ears turning red. My brother was right. I had been sheltered about sex in my family. I didn’t have friends who I could talk to it about, and never really had anyone in my life I was willing to have sex with.

Unlike many women my age I never viewed my virginity like a sacred rose that no one could touch, I just wanted it to be lost to someone who deserved it. No someone I was forced to allow to deserve it.

“Oh look at how red she is.” Jaskier snickered standing up and poking my sides. I smacked his hands away glaring at him. He was now able to see the nearly completed painting. All I had left was my Geralt’s eyes and some details in his hair.

“Gods (Y/N), this is amazing.” He whispered his hand on my shoulder. I smiled softly, swallowing the spit that had gathered in my throat thickly.

“Thank you, please sit down and continue your story.” Jaskier did as I asked.

“The mage was Yennefer. She helped me. Saved my life. The mage and I may not get along, but I do owe her my life.” I smiled softly as he spoke of the mage I had heard so much about.

“I’ll be sure to thank her myself if I ever come across her,” I said with a smile. My attention turned back to Geralt who didn’t look please at the topic of our conversation. His eyes were on his leg that bounced slightly. He was anxious.

“Geralt love, I cannot see your eyes. That’s nearly all I have left.” At the sound of my voice, his head tilted up so he could look at me in the eye.

I smiled sweetly at him. I broke eye contact as I added in the different hues of orange and a bit of red. Some gold flecks showed themselves in his inner iris. The depth of the color was so enchanting. I could paint just his eyes forever. I finished with his hair after a few minutes of silence. Both men just enjoying the warm afternoon air. They both looked relaxed, peaceful, safe even.

“I’ve finished, boys,” I said whipping my hands on my apron. I stood up and turned the easel around to the two. They both sat up straight, eyes wandering all over the painting.

“You, my dear sister are beyond talented.” Jaskier mused looking at me, a bright smile on his face.

“We both are.” I smiled at him. Geralt was still examining the painting, his eyes flicking over every inch of himself. I couldn’t tell if he was pleased or not. It made me nervous.

“I know the hair isn’t perfect. I’m still trying to get the brush technique down-”

“It is perfect.” Geralt interrupted me, a smile on his face as he looked at me.

I smiled back at him, my heart beating a little quicker.

“Can I keep it?” Geralt asked.

“Seriously?” I asked him.

“Well, actually it’s probably best you keep it. I don’t have a home, so I wouldn’t want to ruin it…” I smiled softly, taking a step closer to him.

“I’ll keep it safe but if you ever have a place that you want to keep it, ill get it to you,” I said, softly stroking the stray strand of hair behind his ear. His face tilted up as he looked at me.

“I think I’m going to turn in for the night boys,” I said gathering my items in my hands.

“What about dinner?” Jaskier asked.

“I’ll grab something from the kitchen, I’m quite tired. I need a bath. I’ll see you both in the morning.” I said hugging Jaskier goodnight. I turned to Geralt, courage surging through my veins. I bent down and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight Geralt.” His cheeks turned a very, very soft shade of pink, but only for a moment. Our eyes locked again.

“Good night, dove.”

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skzsauce01 · 4 years ago

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Matters of the Head and Heart

Synopsis: Mechanical hatmaker Mr. Felix Lee finds himself being charmed by your flirtatious antics towards him. However, you being an upper class young lady means nothing will come out of it. Right? Steampunk-ish AU set in 1850s Victorian London. Historical accuracy not guaranteed.

Warning: none

Word Count: 13.1k

Pairing: fem!reader x hatmaker!Felix

Mr. Felix Lee, having been an apprentice and a hatmaker for several years, is no stranger to the odd request or so, but the one he receives today is by far the most peculiar.

“A tea party?” he repeats. He eyes the cream colored envelope you delicately hold out before him, still trying to comprehend the unusualness of it all. “And I’ve been invited?”

“Yes, Mr. Lee,” you say with a smile. “It’s a short notice, I understand, but the hostess would be delighted if you attended.”

He elects to stall for time while he makes sense of it. Why is he invited? Surely, it is unheard of for a hatmaker to partake in a ladies’ tea party. “If I might ask, who is the hostess?”

“A good friend of mine, Miss Shin. She is quite the hat enthusiast and has been inquiring about the designer of my mechanical blooming rose one.”

“That would be me, I suppose,” he dumbly says. He remembers the challenge of your headdress. The flower petals were meticulously arranged and joined together so that they would furl and unfurl. It was quite the endeavor to craft, so he can hardly blame Miss Shin for wanting to learn more. He takes the envelope from you and sets it down on the counter, accepting the invite. “Who else has been invited?”

“She would not tell me about the others, but I think she’s planning her debut ball soon.”

Felix sagely nods. A young lady’s coming out into society is a grand affair, and Felix has heard the stories from fellow craftsmen about the intricacies demanded. If he’s fortunate, maybe Miss Shin, apparent hat enthusiast, will order something from him. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Nothing else, I’m afraid. Good day.” You curtsy and turn to leave, your wide skirts brushing against the sides of a display table.

Felix is feeling rather bold after all that, so he asks the back of your dress, “Will I see you there?”

You look back, lips curled upward in a small smile. It’s different from your typical ones, more playful and less guarded. The downward tilt of your chin is almost seductive, and Felix is doing his best not to turn scarlet. Some of his customers have flirted with him before, but you have never done so so blatantly. He wonders why you are acting coquettish now. Perhaps he merely hopes you are.

“Of course. Who else would introduce you to her?”

The front door of his shop swings shut, leaving him alone again. It is then that Felix realizes how inappropriate the entire situation was. You, an unmarried young lady, had no chaperone with you.

Felix swiftly returns to his latest piece of work to distract himself. He will not say a word about what occurred, but it does not mean that he is not flustered by it. It does not help that the cornflower blue fabric of the silk ribbon he holds matches your skirt perfectly.

The next morning, Felix arrives at a predicament: what does one wear to a tea party if one has never been to such an event before? After much deliberation and a chat with his elderly neighbor, he decides on his Sunday best despite the day being Saturday. He hangs up a sign in the window of his shop stating that he is closed and begins the walk to Miss Shin’s residence.

Unfortunately, the journey is more arduous than he expects as her home is well outside the city. The vast, open countryside is a stark contrast to the cramped buildings Felix is used to, so he spends most of his time admiring the greens and browns of around him. The scenery is the only pleasant part of his day thus far. His newly polished black boots are dusty from the dirt path he walks on, and there is a thin layer of perspiration on his face.

Sometime in the midmorning, a horse-pulled wagon passes by him, and the occupant facing the back calls out to him in a decidedly ungentlemanly fashion when he sees Felix.

“Sir in the blue coat! Mr. Lee, is that you?” he shouts as he stands up while the wagon is still being driven. “It is! Mr. Yang, stop the cart.”

The wagon slows to a stop, and the loud gentleman waves Felix over. “Mr. Lee! It’s Mr. Han Jisung! Would you like a lift?”

Felix graciously accepts his offer and sits at the back with him. He then greets both men with a nod. Jeongin, the poor driver who looks like he is still half asleep, urges the horse forward.

“Are you heading to Miss Shin’s as well?” Felix asks. Mr. Han is a renowned dressmaker known for his use of mechanical moving elements in his designs, which now that Felix thinks about, is similar to his own specialty. If Miss Shin desires a grandiose debut dress, Mr. Han is the one to order from.

Mr. Han nods and pulls an envelope from his coat. It is the same cream colored one Felix has tucked away in his own, the only difference being the name of the individual being addressed on the front. “I’ve made a few things for her before, but this is the first time she’s invited me to her home. And for a tea party of all things! Have you been to her home before?”

“No. She has never ordered from me either. A friend of hers gave me the invite.” Mr. Han ponders over this for some time, and Felix adds, “Her friend believes that Miss Shin is planning her debut ball soon.”

Mr. Han snaps his fingers at the news and nods. “That must be it! She does enjoy extravagant gowns, and your hats would go well with my designs. The singing bird one in your window is astounding! I ought to make something to go with it.”

Felix, thrilled at such a compliment from a man renowned for his mechanical prowess, smiles proudly. For the rest of the way, they talk about other inconsequential things like the weather and the traveling play troupe.

Soon, they arrive at their destination. The conversation quickly dies away once they take in the estate. Miss Shin has no title, yet her family’s home is fit for a duke or even a king. The exterior paint is a blinding white, not a trace of soot anywhere despite there being a carefully hidden coal burner at the side of the mansion. The front door boasts of a large brass knocker and stained glass cutouts, while the front gardens have a large fountain as a centerpiece.

Mr. Han speaks, or rather whispers, first. “This is certainly a sight.”

“I would say so.”

The driver parks his wagon, dilapidated and shabby compared to the gleaming carriage by the entrance, a short distance behind the carriage. Felix and Mr. Han hop off the wagon while Mr. Yang drives the horse to the stables, also magnificent in their own right. As they walk to the front door, the carriage door opens and out steps another familiar face. Felix and Mr. Han raise their top hats and bow to you, and you curtsy once your footman has helped you down. Your chaperone, who was absent yesterday, follows, and Felix and Mr. Han greet her as well. Felix averts his eyes in an attempt to rid himself of the memory.

“Mr. Lee,” you say. “And you are Mr. Han, I believe? Miss Shin talks at great length about your designs. I’ve been meaning to buy one myself.”

Mr. Han beams at this and holds his arm out for you as your small group approaches the stairs. When you take it, Felix feels a twinge of envy. Instead, he offers his arm out to your chaperone, who also takes it.

A butler, an automaton of the latest model, guides the guests to the garden out back where the party is occuring. Felix cannot help but admire the clever design of the large clock in the foyer and decides he ought to make a clockwork hat soon. The garden, lush with more greenery and sweet scented flowers, has a round table topped with empty plates and pots of tea. The young lady wearing a large brimmed hat with dangling gemstones must be Miss Shin. A hat enthusiast indeed.

You let go of Mr. Han’s arm and head to embrace her. “Ryujin! It’s so nice to see you again!” You turn back and gesture at the two men who accompanied you inside her home. “You know Mr. Han of course, but this is Mr. Lee, the hatmaker you have been inquiring about.”

Felix bows to Miss Shin. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Shin.”

“And you, Mr. Lee. Come, have a seat.”

After the guests take their places — Felix happily notes that you take the seat across from his — Miss Shin signals the automaton waitstaff to begin bringing out the food and pours tea for everyone. There are small tea cakes, finger sandwiches, and other morsels of food that seem too delicate to eat. You make light conversation about how lovely everything is, and Mr. Han agrees. For the next few minutes, there is idle small talk about the garden while the craftsmen impatiently wait for Miss Shin to address why she has invited them to her party. Mr. Han, however, asks before she says anything.

Miss Shin is not perturbed by this. In fact, she smiles broadly at the opportunity. “My debut into society will occur in the upcoming season, and I intend to have a spectacular one. You two gentlemen design the most exquisite clothes, and I need something unlike anything the world has ever seen.”

Felix glances over to see your reaction about being correct, but your face is hidden by a porcelain tea cup. When he checks to see his Mr. Han’s reaction, it is similar to his — expectant and excited for a challenge.

“You will all be paid handsomely, of course,” she offhandedly adds. “No expense will be spared.”

“Did you have something in mind?” Mr. Han asks.

“A theme of royal blue and brass,” she dramatically says, waving her lace gloved hands in the air. “I confess, Mr. Han, I was so enamored with the evening gown you made last season that I decided I wanted something like it for my debut ball.”

Felix has nary an idea what she is referring to, but he assumes it is a work of art. On the other hand, you’re nodding your head in agreement.

“Oh, yes. Everyone at the party thought it was divine!”

Miss Shin picks up her tea cup and primly holds it to her lips. “Mr. Han, Mr. Lee: are you interested?”

“Yes,” Felix immediately replies, of which Mr. Han echoes.

“Perfect. I trust that you both will create something magnificent. But enough business talk. For now, please enjoy yourselves.”

The conversation about her debut’s details lasted less than five minutes. However, they defer to Miss Shin’s request. Felix awkwardly sips his Darjeeling tea while Mr. Han selects a pistachio tea cake.

More compliments to the garden and food are made, and it becomes apparent that there is not much else appropriate to chat about. Felix and Mr. Han are both already uncomfortable, and the chaperones and mechanical waitstaff surrounding the table only exacerbate their unease. Despite Felix’s feelings though, attending the tea party is not all terrible. Not only does Felix receive a commission from who he finally realizes is the daughter of the illustrious Shin Industries, he is allowed to spend some time with you. You are jovial and are able to elicit a few laughs from everyone with your humor. Felix adds upon your jokes and turns a pleasant shade of pink when you chortle at his pun.

By midafternoon, the party closes to an end. Felix graciously thanks Miss Shin for the invite and tells her that he will do his utmost best to create a stunning headdress for her. When the butler arrives to escort them to the front entrance, Felix purposely walks slower to be near you.

“I must thank you for your interest in my designs,” he says. “This is quite the opportunity. Without you, I do not think I would have been here today.”

You shake your head. “She would have found out about you anyway. She’s always on the lookout for latest fashions and innovations, so I was surprised that she hadn’t discovered you before I did.”

You are fast approaching the door; Felix remembers the large clock in the front room. Mr. Han is walking quicklier than Felix prefers, so Felix only has a few seconds to come up with something else to say.

“Will you be needing a new headdress for the ball?” he asks.

“Possibly. Of course, I will come to your shop if I find that I do.”

Felix holds out his arm for you to hold as you head down the stairs. Your hand is gloved, and his coat is thick, but it feels as if your bare skin is touching his.

“I look forward to it,” he says.

Right before you step into the carriage, you flash him yet another coquettish smile that makes him flush. “As do I.”

Your chaperone, an austere lady with a high necked dress, arches an eyebrow at this exchange but says nothing. The last Felix sees of you is the long skirt of your cornflower blue gown disappearing into the carriage.

“Mr. Lee, would like a ride back to the city?” Mr. Han asks, jolting Felix out of his thoughts.

“That would be wonderful.”

The journey back is filled with discussion about Miss Shin’s requests. Mr. Han describes the mysterious evening gown: a vision of royal blue silk, lace trimmings, and brass and phosphorus star-like ornaments. Felix realizes that you and Miss Shin share similar tastes for themed clothes. He tells Mr. Han of this, and Mr. Han gives him a sly look.

“If I may be so forward, do you fancy Miss L/N?”

Felix grows hot and directs his gaze to the countryside. “She is merely a customer of mine.”

“Of course, my mistake," he replies, though his tone implies it is anything but.

Fortunately, Mr. Han does not push the topic any further and mercifully changes the subject to decreasing prices of velvet. Felix inwardly sighs in relief.

Several days later, Felix is in the midst of his work when his shop swings open. When he hears the noise, he pushes his tools to the side and replaces the intense scowl with a pleasant smile.

"Welcome! How may I be of service?"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Lee," the young lady greets. She pushes the brim of her gemstone hat back. "I've just had the most wonderful idea for my hat, and I need you to bring it to life!"

Miss Shin has quite the eccentric style, and her grand idea exemplifies it. After a trip to the newfangled aquarium exhibit at the conservatory, she has decided on an oceanic theme for her debut ball and wants an “octopus” upon her head. Felix has no idea what that is.

"It’s a fascinating thing with eight arms. I hear they also call it the devil fish, though it is more devil than fish.”

Miss Shin’s chaperone nods in agreement and shudders at the mention of it. On the other hand, Miss Shin herself seems enamored with such a creature.

“I will do my best. Are your chosen colors the same?”

“Yes. The royal blue will nicely lend itself to the theme.” She sighs dreamily, and Felix wonders how deeply she has thought about this.

“It sounds marvellous. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Not today, but perhaps another time.” She glances back at the door momentarily. “I must go to Mr. Han about this. I’ll be sure to come with payment for it next time. Goodbye, Mr. Lee.”

“Goodbye, Miss Shin.”

The store is quiet again. Instead of picking up his tools, Felix grabs his stovepipe hat from its hook and heads to the local conservatory to get a glimpse of the octopus Miss Shin spoke so earnestly about.

It is indeed as fascinating as she made it out to be. The gears in his head begin to turn.

The following day, Felix spends the late afternoon at Mr. Han’s shop to discuss Miss Shin’s requests. Mr. Han is also amused by the prospect.

“She asked for an octopus-like gown as well,” he remarks. “Have you seen one before?”

“Just yesterday I visited the aquarium. It’s like a balloon with many strings.”

Mr. Han snorts the comment. “How accurate. Are odd creatures the fashion nowadays?”

Before Felix can answer — “I’m not sure, but Miss Shin seems to dictate trends than follow them” — the bell on the shop door rings, indicating someone has come in. Felix stops leaning against the wall and straightens up to greet the person. Upon doing so, he recognizes that said person is you.

You look just as surprised as he is. “Oh, Mr. Lee! Hello. I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“Good afternoon, Miss L/N,” he says, bowing. He adjusts his hat to better hide his warming ears.

Mr. Han stands up from behind the counter and smiles broadly. “Miss L/N, Miss Wang,” he says, referring to your chaperone, who seems pleased to be acknowledged. “Are you here for a dress?”

“Yes. I’ve been waiting all week to come here. But just something simple though.”

Mr. Han’s “simple” designs are still far more extravagant than the gowns sold by typical dressmakers, but they seem to be your taste. Felix pretends to be preoccupied by the mechanical doves flying about the skirt of an unfinished dress while you select something from Mr. Han’s inventory. Your constant humming and deliberation make it difficult for him not to be distracted. He sneaks a glance at you, and you are browsing through the dress forms with interest. A delighted smile appears on your face each time you discover the hidden mechanical details embedded in the fabric.

“I think this one will do,” you say, stopping at a lilac walking dress with small turning gears in place of buttons.

While Mr. Han carefully wraps and packages the gown for you, Felix hovers by the counter, wishing that he had something clever to say. The weather is dull and unimaginative, the current traveling play troupe in town has been discussed to death, and the tea party from last week is old news.

“Have you seen an octopus before?” he blurts out, forgoing a transition. He regrets his decision when he realizes how impolite it is. He thinks he hears Mr. Han stifle a laugh at his eagerness.

To his relief, you don’t seem to care. “Oh, yes! I visited the exhibit at the conservatory a few days ago and saw one up close. A frightening but intriguing beast.”

“It is.” He’s running out of words now. Mr. Han seems to be spending a lengthy amount of time tying twine.

“What did you think of it?” you ask, oblivious to Felix’s increasing internal panic. “I assume you have seen one by your words.”

If he didn’t fancy you before, he does now. “Intriguing as well. And inspiring. It’s unlike anything I have ever seen.”

“Should I expect an octopus hat for sale soon?” you teasingly say. “I imagine you would be able to make something spectacular. You are quite the inventor.”

Your chaperone makes a noise of disapproval at your blatant flattery and possible flirting. “Miss L/N, I believe it is time for us to go. Now.”

You take your parcel from Mr. Han and thank him. To Felix, you grin and say, “I look forward to the hat.”

“Miss L/N, that is enough.”

You bid the two men goodbye and follow your chaperone out the door. Felix hears you grumble, “Fei, you are not very fun.”

When the door shuts, Mr. Han turns to Felix with a satisfied expression. “You’re welcome, by the way. What a shame Miss Wang interrupted.”

“I haven’t a clue what you’re referring to,” Felix says, a pleased blush spreading across his cheeks. There’s no denying that he enjoys being on the receiving end of your advances, no matter how much he pretends he doesn’t notice them. “I think it is best that I go now as well. To start on the drafting process.”

“Oh, you have an idea? What is it?”

Felix describes it to him, detailing the waving tentacles he has envisioned and the way they could be coiled into Miss Shin’s hair if she wished. Mr. Han looks impressed by his ingenuity and ponders over the design like he’s considering something similar.

“I’ll let you take your leave,” Mr. Han says. He unrolls some more length of butcher paper onto the counter and picks up his pencil. “You’re not going to chase after her, are you?”

“I wouldn’t do such a thing!”

Mr. Han nods, clearly not believing him. “Alright then. I hope your plan goes well. Good day, Mr. Lee.”

“Good day.”

True to his word, Felix heads back to his shop and does not run after you. He leaves the ‘CLOSED’ sign hanging in the window and heads to his work surface to begin the calculations for Miss Shin’s headdress. However, even with such an important task at hand, his mind still drifts to you.

He wonders why he is so easily tempted by your flirting. Yes, you are pretty, but beauty alone has never made his heart beat nearly as quickly as it does when he is around you. Your natural charm borders on brazenness sometimes, but he doesn’t detest it. To be honest, it’s refreshing in an era where everyone’s advances are supposed to be reserved and ambiguous.

He realizes he has answered his own question.

With a soft sigh, he returns to his sketches, each curve of his drawings reminding him of your carefree smile. He fancies you. He fancies you a lot.

As midwinter approaches and the beginning of the season begins, Felix’s shop is flooded with customers wanting new hats. Somehow, word has gotten out among the upper class about the new hatmaker with fine craftsmanship and one-of-a-kind designs. Most of his finished products are snatched up, and several people ask about placing future orders. He takes a select few; after all, he has another very important project that needs to be done.

He asks Mr. Han if he has experienced this wave of new business as well, to which Mr. Han says something similar happens to him every season.

“You’re a new face, so it’s natural,” he assures. “I imagine Miss Shin’s upcoming ball has much to do with it as well.”

Felix does not fully understand Mr. Han’s remark until Miss Shin stops by with her payment days later. She gives him a little more than necessary, but when Felix tries to hand the remainder back, she waves it off, citing it as a gesture of her appreciation.

With more cheer than before, Felix shows Miss Shin the progress he has made on her headdress so far: tentacles that trail down the back, moving pieces that make it appear the arms are waving, and glowing phosphorus eyes. Miss Shin marvells over each element and declares it spectacular. Then she pulls an envelope from her reticule and presents it to Felix, who stares at it not unlike he did weeks ago to a similar piece of stationery.

His name is clearly written on the front, but he hesitantly asks, “It is for me?”

“Yes. An invitation to my debut.”

You will certainly be there as a member of Miss Shin’s court, and if he goes, then…

Perhaps a dance? A chat? His mind spins with possibilities. However, he’s more concerned about why he’s being invited to such a high-class affair as a hatmaker.

“Pardon me, but why am I invited?”

“In case of mechanical errors. I can’t have the day spoiled because of something like that. Not that I expect it to,” she hastily adds after seeing Felix’s affronted expression. “Mr. Han has been invited for the same reason. It’s simply a precaution.”

“I see.”

“A few of my friends are asking about you as well. Besides,” she slyly adds, “you’re a young, eligible gentleman. I’m sure someone will be delighted with your presence.”

Felix nods slowly as if he is thinking it over. Is she talking about you? He certainly hopes so. “Thank you for the invite. Is there anything else I can assist you with?”

“Just sure to attend my debut. Anyway, I must be on my way now. Good day, Mr. Lee.”

“Good day.”

She and her chaperone head for the door. Once they are out of sight, Felix breaks the seal on the envelope and notes the date of the party: nearly a fortnight away. No matter his previous apprehensions about it, he is going to attend. He would be a fool not to.

The ball is in a week’s time, and Felix has spent the past few days and nights putting the finishing touches to the octopus headdress. It is done now, nary a mechanical error or physical blemish in sight. He even has Mr. Han look it over, and the mechanical genius himself deems it to be perfect.

Felix sighs in relief and sinks into his chair, the cushion worn thin from so many hours of him sitting on it. “This was the most challenging design I have ever done.”

“You did a splendid job,” Mr. Han reassures. “Would you like me to mail it to her along with her dress? I’m nearly done with it.”

“That would be wonderful.” He doubts Miss Shin will return since he has not heard a word from her since she last visited a week ago. The pieces of gossip he overhears from customers corroborate his assumptions; they whisper about Miss Shin overseeing the planning of her extravagant ball by herself and how exhausting it must be.

He delicately places the hat into a velvet-lined hatbox and covers the top with tissue paper. Then he pops on the lid.

“Are you attending her debut?” he asks. “Miss Shin said she invited you.”

“Of course!” he replies, and Felix is glad that he won’t be the lone craftsman there. “It’s far too good of a business opportunity to pass up. I take it you will be there as well?”

“Like you said, it’s far too good of a business opportunity to pass up.”

“And other kinds of opportunities as well.” He glances at the clock hanging above Felix’s head. “Ah, I ought to get going. This was supposed to be a quick break. Goodbye, Mr. Lee.”

Mr. Han holds the box close to his chest when he leaves. Felix watches closely and relaxes when Mr. Han does not run down the street like he expected him to. He trusts that the hat will arrive in perfect condition, but if it does not, well, that is why Miss Shin invited him to attend the ball in the first place.

Despite knowing that he will be going to an upscale affair, he has not prepared himself in the slightest. After deliberating for a few minutes, Felix takes up his stovepipe hat and heads down the street as well. If he wants to impress you — potential future customers, he means — he should at least buy a new coat and cravat.

On the day of the highly anticipated ball, Felix rises before the sun. It’s an evening party, so he needn’t be up so early, but he cannot sleep. His body is tired and demands to rest, but his mind is buzzing. As such, he brews himself a cup of tea and begins searching through old design sketches to fix.

Two redesigns and recalculations later, a gentle tap on the storefront’s window makes him look up. He has only had a half a cup of tea, so he is unsure if his eyes are truly working when he spots you standing outside. He isn’t even open for business yet. You cup the glass door and peer inside, presumably to see if he is awake yet. He blinks twice, and you are still there.

He walks over and unlocks the door, making you take a step back. When he sees you wearing in the purple walking dress you bought weeks ago, he feels disheveled in comparison. He pats down his uncombed hair. “Good morning, Miss L/N.”

“Good morning, Mr. Lee. I apologize for coming this hour, but it was urgent, and I wasn’t sure if there would be enough time if I came by later.”

Felix is wide awake now. “What is the matter?”

You hold out a bronze hatbox to him. “Do you remember the blooming rose headdress you made? Well, I was careless last night and accidentally dropped it. It’s broken, and I was planning to wear it tonight. Is there a chance it could be repaired by then?”

“May I…” He hovers his hand over the box, his fingers just a few centimeters above yours.

“Yes! Of course.”

Felix opens it, and to his relief, the damage is not as bad as he expects. There are a few petals askew, jamming the other flowers around it and causing the entire mechanical rose garden to stutter. The only other concern is the small grease stain on the silk ribbon, but that is a simple fix. He wonders where you dropped it. Certainly not on the ground since the damage seems to be minimal.

“I can repair it. Could you come back in a few hours? Around mid-morning?”

You sheepishly smile at him. “Would it be possible for you to give it to me at the party? I wasn’t actually given permission to leave the house today.”

It is then that Felix notices that, once again, you have no chaperone with you. Or does your carriage driver count as one, he flippantly thinks. It does not matter though. The sudden realization about the inappropriate situation makes him more shy.

He takes the box from you and steps back into the safety of his store. With the clear door threshold dividing the two of you, he feels much more at ease. You seem slightly saddened by this, but perhaps it is his wishful thinkings.

“Of course,” he says, trying to hide his reddening face by looking at the cobblestone pavement. “Where shall I wait for you?”

“By the fountain in the front gardens. I have to arrive at the Shin residence early, so it will likely be me waiting for you.”

Felix nods and takes one small step backwards. “I will see you tonight then, Miss L/N. Good day.”

“Good day, Mr. Lee. And thank you for your help.”

You walk back to your carriage and wave goodbye when you see that he is still standing by the door. He weakly waves back and scurries to his work table where he promptly sets the box down and whispers panicked mutterings to himself. He feels like he’s overheating.

He drinks the remainder of his tea to cool himself down before settling into his chair. He reaches for his tools and begins taking apart the mechanical flowers. It is a distraction from you but not a very good one.

When Mr. Han show up in an actual carriage in the evening, Felix’s nerves are not any better. He fumbled with the top buttons of his shirt while dressing, and it took him several attempts to tie his cravat correctly. Now, every bit of his body tremors as he steps inside the carriage.

“Well, don’t we look like dandies tonight?” Mr. Han remarks. He eyes the hatbox Felix has on his lap. “Did Miss Shin send it back?”

“Miss L/N needed an emergency repair,” Felix responds as he pretends to adjust his cravat, making it look worse than it did mere seconds ago. The evening air is warmer than he anticipated. “Are you excited?”

Mr. Han lets his poor attempt at steering the conversation away slide. “More or less. I would rather be at home, but parties can be fun.”

Felix is inclined to agree, though he is most excited and terrified at the prospect of seeing you again. The conversation devolves into silence as both gentlemen stare out the windows, observing the countryside at night. There is not a hint of light save for the moon and stars above. The wind blows in any direction uninterrupted, making the grass and wildflowers rustle.

It is a romantic picture.

Soon, the natural countryside begins to wane as they approach Shin residence, lit up in shades of blue with phosphorus lamps, comes into view. There is a line of carriages on the gravel path leading inside the estate. They are one of the last ones, and Felix is overwhelmed by guilt for being so late. How long did he make you wait? Mr. Han pokes his head out the window and mouths an exclamation at the sight.

“I don’t think I have seen or even heard of a debut ball of this size,” he says. “Well, she did that no expense would be spared.”

Felix, even more anxious about the party now, only nods in agreement. As their carriage nears the entrance, he scans the gardens for the designated meeting spot. There is a shadowy figure by the fountain, nearly hidden by the tall hedges. Although he cannot make out who it exactly is, it must be you.

When they finally reach the entrance, he opens the door and steps out with your hatbox tucked under your arm. He heads towards the fountain, the opposite from the main door of the house. The driver, the same one as last time, gives him a strange look but says nothing. Mr. Han seems to understand and says that he will see him inside.

Felix slows his pace, making sure that the few guests waiting to be let into the estate will be inside by the way he reaches you. There are curious glances in his direction, but they rapidly turn to the decorated main door as the line moves forward. Once there is no one left outside, he quickly strides over to the fountain. You are nowhere in sight, so he presumes that you are behind a hedge. Hopefully, you have not left.

“Miss L/N,” he softly calls, “are you here yet?”

Like he hopes, you walk out from behind a hedge, the hem of your dress showing up first. Felix has to suppress a gasp when you stop right in front of him. You are very close, and your evening gown and typical daywear are vastly different. Your bare shoulders, to put it mildly, are distracting.

“Hello, Mr. Lee. How are you tonight?”

“I am well, thank you.” It comes out a little strained, and to deflect from that, he holds out the hatbox. “Your headdress, as requested.”

“Thank you. The ball has started, so I should head back before they notice me missing.” You take it from him and hold it in your arms. “Shall we head in together?”

You really are brazen. As much as he would like to spend more time with you, he knows the social implications it has and the damage that will be done to your reputation. This very act of meeting you alone is illicit.

“I think I would like to wander the gardens some more,” he lies. He vaguely gestures at the plants. “They’re quite lovely.”

You give him a half smile. “They are. Ask me for a dance later, will you? I would very much like it. Until then. ”

Like nothing out of ordinary occurred, you merrily head back to the house, leaving Felix at a loss for words. He paces around the fountain and imagines the conversation over and over again. You were no doubt flirting with him. He is beyond delighted, but he has no idea what to do with this newfound development. He spent the last months admiring you from afar.

Ten minutes later, after he is certain that no one will connect your reappearance with his, he finds himself inside the bustling ballroom of the mansion. ‘No expense spared’ is correct.

There is a full orchestra playing on a raised section and a quadrille underway. He must have missed the first dance. The automaton waitstaff are conducting their own dance through the crowd as they distribute drinks and collect empty plates. The oceanic theme, so earnestly described by Miss Shin, has come to life with the blue tinted lighting and sea creature motifs decorating the walls. Felix notes that although there are many species of fish, the devil fish is not among them. Against the west wall leans the refreshment table, draped with scalloped tablecloth reminiscent of the waves. Just a few steps away, to Felix’s amazement, is an enormous aquarium filled with exotic fishes and elegant aquatic plants. He suspects that the conservatory might have loaned them for the night. However, he would not be surprised if the Shins had their own aquarium.

“There you are.” Mr. Han emerges from the crowd, relief clear on his face. “Miss Shin has been wondering where you were. I didn’t say anything about your… plans, but I may have given her the impression that you got lost on the grounds somehow.”

Mr. Han leads Felix to wherever Miss Shin is. In the meantime, Felix hopes that she just wants to introduce him to a few of her friends and not that her headdress needs to be fixed. Imagine how mortifying that would be.

“Mr. Lee! You’ve arrived!” she exclaims. The surrounding guests all immediately turn to get a look at him, and he feels embarrassment coloring his face. “Everyone, this is the gentleman who created this extraordinary octopus upon my head.”

Just like that, Felix is inundated with questions.

“How long did it take?”

“What excellent craftsmanship! Are you taking commissions now?”

“How much for a hat?”

Felix politely answers them all, half bewildered and half pleased by the attention. Mr. Han watches from the sidelines with a proud expression and gives Felix encouraging nods when no one is looking. Several minutes later, Felix has earned himself a slew of new potential customers, all who are more than willing to pay a visit to his shop the next time they are in town.

“It has been in perfect working order ever since I received it,” Miss Shin reports. She reaches up to adjust one of the metal tentacles coiled into her hair. “You won’t be disappointed.”

Felix relaxes when he hears the good news. “Thank you for compliments. Pardon my manners, but I do not think I have mentioned how wonderful the evening has been so far. Your ball is a true success.”

“Thank you,” she says, the ever gracious hostess. “Do enjoy the rest of the party.”

One of her court members adds, “And do be a gentleman and ask a certain Miss Y/N L/N for a dance.”

“Yuna! Don’t be so—”

Felix does not get to hear what Miss Shin says next since Mr. Han pulls him away to the refreshment table, far away from where they were. Thank goodness for his perceptiveness. Felix is only a few shades lighter than crimson.

He does intend to ask you to dance, but the question is when? You were not with the other court members by Miss Shin, and at a party this large, he is unsure if he will even be able to find you.

“Having fun so far?” Mr. Han asks as he plucks a cream and jam roll in the shape of a fish off a serving tray. “It seems like everyone knows about your fancies.”

Felix ignores the last sentence. “It’s a magnificent party. It really does feel like we are all in the depths of the ocean here. Are you enjoying yourself?”

“More or less. The food is divine.” He punctuates the remark by grabbing another roll. “If I were less refined, I might just filch the entire tray.”

By the way Mr. Han is marvelling over the selection, Felix does not put it past him. He is not in any place to judge though; he, too, is considering taking a few treats home to eat.

“Mr. Han! And Mr. Lee as well! Good evening.”

Felix does not have to turn around to know who it is. Mr. Han’s sly face gives it all away, and your voice has become all too familiar to him.

Mr. Han greets, “Miss L/N! How lovely you look tonight.”

In the darkness, Felix was not able to see you clearly. Under the phosphorus lights and gas lamps, you are radiant.

He first notices the gold roses, slowly blossoming and then slowly wilting, adorning your head. Then his eyes travel downward to the ribbon choker around your throat and to your shoulders. He quickly averts his eyes to the evening gown you wear — sage green with an understated floral pattern, which perfectly matches your headdress. The fan in your hand is closed shut, the golden handle appearing bronze under the lights. He cannot bring himself to look at your face; he can already imagine the pretty smile you have, and that alone is making him grow warm.

“I do believe that is Miss Choi!” Mr. Han interjects. “Pardon me, I must speak to her immediately.”

You and Felix bid him goodbye, leaving the two of you alone. You wait for him to greet you, speak, something, but nothing comes to mind. He steadily shifts his gaze upwards and tries to lessen his blush when he sees the corner of your mouth quirked up.

“Did they miss you?” he says, breaking the silence. “Miss Shin and the rest of the court, I mean.”

“I don’t think so, being a very busy night and all. I think they were more concerned about dancing.”

Which reminds him…

With as much confidence as he can muster, he holds out his right hand to you. “Would you like to dance, Miss L/N? I recall you requested one.”

You place your left hand in his and let him guide you to the middle of the dance floor. “I must confess, I only came to ask you if you were going to ask me to dance.”

“I would not have forgotten.”

“Are you certain?” you tease. “It seems like you only remembered when mentioned dancing.”

“Believe me, Miss L/N, I would never be able to forget such a bold request.”

He knows exactly where the surge of genuine confidence came from. The second he felt your fingers on his palm, something inside him lit up. Your touch made the moment so much more real, his wishings no longer daydreams.

The quadrille finishes, and the orchestra starts playing a waltz. Though he is stunned by the change — he had been anticipating walking and turning about you, not twirling you around — you are not. While you curtsy as a formal greeting before the dance, you deftly switch your fan to your left hand. Before he can bow in return, you hold his left hand and smile demurely at him.

“I have another confession to make Mr. Lee: I have been waiting to dance with you for the longest time now.”

He cautiously presses his hand to the small of your back, pulling you a bit closer than social customs allows. He can blame it on the crowded ballroom. He can feel your warmth through the fabric, and it occurs to him that you are in his arms just like in all those outdated fairy tales.

“If we are making confessions, then I suppose I have one as well,” he says.

He hears the expectant note in your voice. “And what is it?”

“I wanted to dance with you too.”

It’s a simple statement, but you grin from ear to ear, so bright the rest of the room seems dark in comparison. His heart flutters. When he twirls you around again, you lean your head back and sigh.

“You are marvellous dancer,” you remark as you sweep back your skirts to make more room for him. “Did you take lessons? Or do you just have a natural talent for it?”

“A bit of both. I took some about four years ago during my apprenticeship. I guess I still remember the basics.”

“No time for anymore now, I presume, with the amount of business you have been getting. Ever since I bought the butterfly headdress — do you remember that? It was ages ago, but it was the first one I bought from you.”

Felix remembers that day very well. He had opened his shop just half a year ago, and you and your chaperone stumbled in to wait out the rain. While you were captivated by the beating wings of a butterfly, he was awestruck by your gaiety on such a gloomy day. The silk flowers of your bonnet were drooping, your jacket damp from the incoming storm, and your face flushed from running, but your eyes held wonder and your lips a song.

You sang so much praise for the headdress that he went to bed that night hearing it in his sleep.

“Anyway,” you continue, “from the first time I came to your shop, I just knew you were talented. How long have you been working as a hatmaker? Your age and expertise don’t seem to match up. You are quite young compared to the other mechanical and automaton designers.”

“A year and a half now. I took over the business when my mentor retired. I do not think I am much older than you.”

You ponder over this for a while. “Forgive my forwardness and my lack of regard for etiquette — being friends with Ryujin for so long has its flaws — but are you courting anyone?”

Felix stops breathing for a few seconds. “I am not. Why?”

“Just check— just curious. Well, perhaps you will find someone that interests you here. You could ask someone to dance and talk to them to see if they catch your fancy.” Your expression is innocent, but your words are laced with whimsy.

“Who do you think would be a good match for me?” he asks, playing along. “Surely you know a few of the guests here.”

You pretend to think it over, pursing your lips together in concentration. Felix thickly swallows and glances at the space between your brows instead. His heartbeat is even more erratic than before.

“I don’t like to gossip, but I did hear a rumor that a young lady on the debutante’s court is interested in being courted soon. Her coming-out will be happening this season.”

“Ah, interesting,” he replies in an overly thoughtful manner. “If only I could receive an invite to the event. I am afraid that I am rather unfamiliar with most of the people here.”

“I think I can help with that,” you say. “I will speak to her about it. I’m sure she would love for you to attend.”

He tries to keep an air of nonchalance but fails when he spots your lips twitching into a smile. “Thank you, Miss L/N. I greatly appreciate it.”

Like the scene has been rehearsed before, the waltz ends then. Felix shallowly dips you like the dance dictates and helps right you back up. In doing so, you wind up far closer to him than you were before. You are pressed up against his chest, and he can hear your breaths. With the bubble of intimacy gone and the reality of the situation settling in, Felix hurries backwards, confidence dissipating.

He is not alone though. You snap your fan open, drawing it across your cheeks and concealing your face. He does not think he has seen you this flustered before.

“Thank you for the dance,” you tell him behind the painted screen. “You were a wonderful partner.”

“You were as well.”

The two of you walk to the sidelines together, an appropriate distance apart. He glances over to you occasionally and notes that your usual cool composure has not returned yet. Before Felix can continue the conversation, the excitable young lady — Miss Yuna Whatever-Her-Surname-Is — emerges from the crowd and rushes to you.

“Y/N! Do tell us about it!” she exclaims, forgetting that Felix is right there. She sidles up to you, holds your arm, and waits expectantly for the details.

You duck a little lower behind your fan and hiss, “Yuna!”

“Good night, Miss L/N,” Felix says. “It was a pleasure to dance with you.”

He makes himself scarce but not before he overhears you laugh and sigh, “Yuna Shin, don’t ever do that again. But yes, it was all very lovely.” He swells with joy.

The orchestra has started another waltz, one that is uplifting and bright. Felix hums along to it as he heads to the refreshment table. Almost unsurprisingly, Mr. Han is still there as well with a miniature trifle in hand. The dessert looks unappetizing to Felix with its blue layers, but Mr. Han is enjoying it.

“You don’t like dancing?” Felix says as he inspects the table for a drink.

“The contrary. This is just replenishment for the night.” He spoons another bite into his mouth. “And all the ladies seem to be on the dance floor anyway.”

Felix finds a cup of punch and drinks it heartily. He has never attended a debut ball before, so he is not sure of what there is to do other than dance and mill around. He spends some time observing the creatures in the aquarium nearby. There is unfortunately not an octopus in the glass tanks, leading him to believe that this is the Shins’ own aquarium.

He returns back to Mr. Han, and the two spy a few of their creations in the crowd. They all seem to be garnering attention from other guests, which bodes well for their financial future. Mr. Han, who is much more knowledgeable about who is who, updates him on the latest news regarding each of the guests. Felix nods along, only partially paying attention to his words as he watches couples dance at the same time.

As much fun as it is to be an observer though, it gets dull quickly when Felix realizes how much he would rather be home than here. He has no idea where you currently are, but it would be impolite for him to monopolize your time with another dance. Not to mention, it would stir rumors, and he wants no part in them.

“Would it be rude to leave now?” he rhetorically asks.

Mr. Han ponders over this. “Considering it has only been an hour, I think so, but let’s leave anyway.” He picks up a napkin and starts surreptitiously piling rolls and tarts inside. “Keep watch for me.”

Felix complies by standing right in front of the napkin and thus obstructing the view from the rest of the room. “You just said it would be rude.”

“I have to open early tomorrow, and so do you. New commissions to work on and all that.”

The people in his life, Felix notes, have a tendency to disregard social customs. However, he does not mind in this case or your case. Mr. Han filches a few more desserts at the behest of Felix, and the two wait for Miss Shin to finish her waltz to say goodbye.

“So early? The ball has just begun! And what if a problem arises?”

Felix gives this comment pause, but Mr. Han bats it away as if it were merely a pesky bug. “Miss Shin, I assure you that all of my — and Mr. Lee’s as well — are in perfect working order. When has anything I made for you been otherwise?”

While the two of them discuss this, Felix stands by and adds whatever he can. Both Mr. Han and Miss Shin are quick with their replies, and there is hardly a break in between. However, Miss Shin eventually concedes after learning of the new work they have to start.

“Very well. Thank you for attending” — she taps one of the brass tentacles on her skirt with her matching fan — “and for this beautiful evening gown. And thank you for the wonderful headdress, Mr. Lee.”

“It was our pleasure,” Felix answers. “Good night, Miss Shin.”

Felix and Mr. Han make their way to the exit, sidestepping the people lingering around the windows. Felix glances around to find you. He wants to give you a proper goodbye, but you are nowhere to be seen. There are no gold roses in the sea of people. He resigns to his predicament and hopes that you will not be too disappointed that he danced and left.

The area outside the mansion, swarming with exhilarated guests not too long ago, is empty. The blue lamps illuminating the cobblestone path seem forlorn instead of lively, and the silence only emphasizes the feeling.

“I’ll get the carriage,” Mr. Han offers, already heading in that direction. “Just wait here.”

Felix sits on the last step of the stairs and listens to the crickets in the bushes. The moon is higher in the sky now, and the wind from earlier has died down to a breeze. He sighs and loosens his cravat leans backwards on his forearms, enjoying the cool air on his face. It is a pleasant contrast to the party inside.

“You could have said goodbye at least.”

When he turns around, fumbling about and trying to make himself presentable again, you are standing a few steps above him. You said the words jokingly, but he hears the hurt underneath.

“I apologize,” he whispers. The darkness hides his guilt well. “I couldn’t find you.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Not one for parties, I take it?”

“I only came to talk and dance with you,” he admits, growing more embarrassed by the second. “If things were different, I would stay all night, but once I used my chance, I didn’t know what else to do.”

“We could have still chatted after.” You walk down to his step and sit beside him, the silk of your gown brushing against his leg. The only thing separating the two of you is your wide skirt. You place your hand only a few centimeters away from his on the steps. “I know I was acting a bit silly earlier, so I want to ask you outright. Forgive my forwardness, but do you intend to court me, or am I just seeing things that are not there?”

Felix goes still. He had not thought about his feelings that way. He certainly likes you, but a courtship never even crossed his mind because of how far up the social ladder you were. He wanted to catch your eye, but he never thought you would pay genuine attention back to him.

“Because if you do,” you continue after he says nothing, “I want to be courted seriously. If you are merely teasing me, then tell me now.”

“Miss L/N, are you teasing me now? I am no one important, yet you pursue me.”

“I am not teasing, I swear,” you solemnly say, looking directly into his eyes. “I will not play with your heart like that. And to me, you are important. Never mind the wonderful things you have made for me, I like you. You and how industrious you are, how assured you are in yourself, how you play along with my jokes for my sake. You are nothing like all the rakes and fops around me.”

He can hardly believe his ears. After a tense silence, he says, “If you will let me, I will court you seriously.”

“Mr. Lee, I have always allowed it. Every joke, every smile — it was an invitation for you.” He glances over at you in shock, and you halfheartedly smile at him. “Perhaps I was not clear enough about my advances.”

“No. I was simply too afraid to act upon them. I did not realize your intentions were pure.”

“I assure you, Mr. Lee, you were the only gentleman I flirted with.”

The nearby sound of a horse trotting interrupts the moment. Felix glances down to where the stables are and spies a silhouetted carriage approaching. Mr. Han was quick with his task, and Felix wishes he had been less so.

Having seen the same thing, you stand up and fluff out your skirt, preparing to go back inside. The silk ripples in waves, and Felix stares in fascination. You catch him in the act and flash him a knowing smile. “Good night. I hope to see you soon.”

Felix bashfully replies, “Good night.”

You give him one last look and hurry away before company arrives. Your head bobs up and down as you take the stairs two by two, and Felix watches you disappear into the mansion. He is still staring at the door when the carriage drives up.

“Mr. Lee!”

“Coming!”

The journey back to the city is mostly silent since Mr. Han seems worn out by the night’s events already. Felix does not try to engage him in conversation, choosing instead to sink into the velvet seat and to admire the sky. If he looks at it long enough, he thinks he can see your face among the constellations.

The following days, all Felix hears about in the sparse amount of time he interacts with customers — his shop has been mostly devoid of hats and headdresses ever since Miss Shin introduced him to all her friends — is Miss Shin’s debut. Every piece of gossip he overhears while out revolves around it and the other upcoming debut balls in the season. On one of his outings to the market, your name is mentioned, and he stops in his tracks. He pretends to check his pocket watch and turns it over and over in his hands as if he has found a new scuff mark on the brass.

“I heard she sent out the invites already,” says the young lady with a pink bonnet. “Did you get one?”

“Of course! But Tzuyu Chou’s ball is on the same night, so which one do I go to?”

“Both, silly! Just leave one of them early and—”

Once the topic changes, Felix quits his act and continues onward to the market. He has not received an invitation to your ball yet, and surely that was what you were alluding to during the waltz. Perhaps you are going to hand-deliver it yourself. That is all he can hope for because the other reason is that you have changed your mind about him.

When he returns to his shop with new bronze sheets and copper wiring, he is disappointed. You are not waiting outside nor is there an envelope tucked underneath his door. Felix brews himself a cup of tea and settles at his work table chair. He pulls out his sketches for a hat decorated with swimming fish and starts on its construction. All he can do now is wait.

After several days and far too much time spent agonizing over the issue, you finally grace Felix’s shop with your presence. When the bell on the door chimes and he sees you at the threshold, he nearly leaps out from behind the counter, shoving away his tools in a weak attempt to appear well put together. He wipes a spot of grease from his brow with the back of his hand and bows at you in greeting.

“Welcome. How may I be of service?”

“Are you accepting custom orders right now?” you ask, walking closer to him. Your chaperone follows closely behind to ensure that you are not about to blatantly flirt with him again, though Felix has a sneaking feeling that you will anyway. “I heard you might be busy. It seems like everyone wants a hat from you now.”

“What did you have in mind?”

You glance at the current project is working on. “Actually, that one seems interesting. Or is it someone else’s?”

The clockwork hat is indeed someone else’s, Miss Lia Choi, to be precise. “It is.”

“Ah, I see.” You do not look the slightest bit dejected at the news. “Well, I think something with butterflies would be lovely. I have lots of good memories involving them, so I want them to be part of my debut ball.”

Felix cannot get a single sound out, so he elects to duck back behind the counter. He picks up his pencil and rolls out another sheet of butcher paper. The blank canvas stares back at him, and he hastily sketches the form of the headdress like he wants to show you an idea he has in mind. He has nothing in his mind. He cannot think after a statement like that. He puts the pencil down.

“I can have a rough draft of the headdress done in a few days,” he says. “Or do you have a design planned out?”

“Perhaps something like this?” You take the pencil from the counter, your fingers brushing against his in a manner that is not accidental.

While Felix does his best to maintain his composure in front of your chaperone — she seems to not have noticed your gesture, thankfully — you draw a cluster of butterflies on the side of the headdress and small flowers to fill in the gaps. You mindlessly hum a melody as you sketch, and it sounds awfully similar to a waltz he danced to sometime ago.

You push the paper towards him. “Here.”

He glances over it, lightly touching the lines and curves with his finger. It is a pretty design and very extravagant. He will likely have to make some adjustments so you can actually wear it without injuring your neck, but it is possible to make it into a reality. “I will get to work on it soon. When do you need it by?”

“As soon as possible.” You open your reticule and set down a sheaf of banknotes so large, Felix cannot see your hand at all. “I know you have a long line of customers, so I will pay double the regular price for it to be finished in two weeks’ time.”

He would have done it without the monetary incentive anyway. Nonetheless, he nods and assures you that it will be done by then. You audibly sigh and thank him in advance for his timeliness.

“Is that all for today?” he asks. He wants you to say no, to make up an excuse to stay.

To his disappointment and seemingly to your own as well, you reply, “Yes. I’ve got a busy day ahead of myself. Well, good day. It is always a pleasure coming to your shop.”

“Good day.”

He watches you leave. You do not turn around to give him one last look like he anticipates. Your chaperone is keeping a careful eye on you and your antics, and she is following close behind as you out the door anyway. However, you do smile at him through the window. Even though you will not be able to see it, he returns it.

Once you are out of view, he collects the banknotes on the counter to put away. As he does so, he notices a corner of an envelope peeking out from the pile.

Mr. Felix Lee, it says across the front in black ink.

Could this be the invitation he has been waiting so long for? He does not know what else it could be, but he is still nervous. With trembling fingers, he breaks open the glossy red seal and takes out the stiff cardstock inside.

You have been cordially invited to Miss Y/N L/N’s debut.

He laughs, one mixed with relief and pure joy, and it echoes throughout the shop. The sound bounces off the empty walls like a never-ending symphony of happiness.

Once the euphoria has waned a bit, he sets his previous project and begins refining your sketch. He traces over your butterfly wings, adding more dimension and adjusting angles as he does so. He can already see it coming to life, the wings beating in harmony to the music, the delicate twitches of the antennae as you move your head.

To think that you will be wearing this at your coming-out and that he will be there to see it. Though it is an inside joke between the two of you, it might as well be a public declaration of courtship to him.

He works on your headdress almost feverishly, neglecting his other projects for as long as he can afford. When Mr. Han comes by for tea and a chat a few days later — they have become friends after Miss Shin’s ball — Felix is frantically soldering the minute hand onto one of the many tiny clocks on this hat.

“Do you want any help?” Mr. Han asks, popping the last bite of his biscuit into his mouth. “I do have experience with metalworking, you know.”

“I’m alright,” he mutters. The client is supposed to be arriving within the hour, and he cannot imagine how damaged his reputation will be if someone else other than himself is found working on the hat. He shudders as he pictures the suspicion on his customers’ faces. “Sorry for not being better company.”

“Don’t fret. I only came because I had news regarding Miss L/N.”

Felix nearly misplaces the minute hand in his surprise. He feigns nonchalance at Mr. Han’s statement. “Oh?”

“Do you know Lord Seungmin Kim? Apparently, he is interested in courting her. I overheard someone say that he is to be her partner for the first dance.”

Felix says nothing, just grips his tool tighter and intently stares at the tiny Roman numerals in front of him. He did not expect to be chosen for the honor of the first dance, but it does not mean his pride goes unhurt. Lord Kim, a nobleman with wealth and connections, is well above him in terms of social status.

“That’s… that’s impressive,” he says.

“Yes, and I also heard that she does not want him to be her partner. Something about another gentleman in mind.”

Mr. Han looks pointedly at Felix, who pointedly pretends not to notice it. He affixes the hand to the remaining clock and checks everything once more for any careless errors. His heart thumps in his chest, twice the speed of the soft tick-tocking of the miniature clocks. If he is the alleged gentleman you have in mind, then the first dance would truly be a public declaration.

“Have you been invited?” Mr. Han asks, though it seems as if he already knows the answer.

“Yes. What about you?”

“No.”

As far as he can tell, there are no flaws with the hat, so he puts his tools away. “You seem content with that,” he remarks as he rummages around in his cabinets for an empty hatbox.

“Of course! I will only miss the food, so do filch some for me. I did it at Miss Shin’s.”

Felix makes a noise in acknowledgment. The gears in his head are working overtime as he plots out what your debut will be like. You and him, in each other’s arms, in front of everyone. What will they say? What will he do afterwards?

The sound of a ringing bell interrupts his thoughts, and in flies Miss Choi, another member of Miss Shin’s court and a friend of yours.

“Is it ready? Please tell me it is! I have been waiting all day for it!” she says, breathless from her bursting in. She spies it sitting on the counter and immediately sets it on her head. “It’s lovely! And not heavy at all.”

“Good afternoon, Miss Choi,” the two men chorus.

“Oh, yes. Good afternoon. I didn’t know you two knew each other this well,” she distractedly says. She turns to Felix, her hand reaching for her reticule. “I paid for this already, right?”

He nods. “Last week.”

“Perfect. Oh, goodness” — she glances at the wall-mounted clock behind Felix — “Y/N will be cross with me for being late. I will see you at the ball then, Mr. Lee. Thank you again. Goodbye!”

She leaves in the same frenzied manner as she came, and her worn out chaperone hurries after her.

“That was a confirmation if I ever heard one. She must know the details.”

“That was nothing.” Yet he desperately hopes that it was something.

“You keep pretending that as if no one knows of you and Miss L/N’s relationship. Everyone knows she fancies you, and you her, so there is no need to keep putting up this act.” Mr. Han sighs and crumples up his paper napkin. “I ought to get back to work now. Thank you for the tea.”

“Thank you for the company. Good day, Mr. Han.”

Mr. Han stands up from his seat, throwing his coat back, and heads for the door. “Good day. Do not forget about the food.”

Felix rolls his eyes, but a small smile forces its way onto his face anyway. “I won’t.”

Possibly the most important day of Felix’s day has arrived. He adjusts his cuffs, his cravat, his shirt — everything really — mindlessly as he waits for the time to tick down. He is restless. His usually nimble fingers turn clumsy when he tries to work on a hat for a client, and he cannot focus on anything. He has not seen you since you dropped off the invitation all those days ago. Your chaperone came to pick up your headdress, and she gave him a cool onceover before advising that he come to the ball a tad earlier.

As such, he locks up his shop two hours before the starting time and makes the walk to the banquet hall where your debut is being held. He could have rented a carriage like Mr. Han did for that seemingly long ago ball, but the hall is not too far away. Being dressed in finery, he receives curious looks from passersby and more batting eyelashes from young girls than he likes.

By the time he arrives at the hall, dusk is darkening into night. The gas lamps on the streets have lit up. He is a little more than half an hour early, which is hopefully sufficient for whatever reason why he was suggested to do so. There are no signs of guests, and stricken by the fact that he has no idea what to do, Felix idles around the entrance. He cannot just barge in; that would be rude. He incessantly checks his pocket watch for the time, wishing that someone would come and save him for this predicament.

Fortunately, his wishes are soon answered. The main doors open, and out steps you in all of your radiance. Your eyes meet his, and all he can do is gaze at you.

Your dress is reminiscent of what you wore at Miss Shin’s debut: a green evening gown dotted with tiny pink blossoms, and gold trim around the shoulders that complements the gilded butterflies that swarm around your head. Green and gold appear to be your signature colors, and you wear them well. Even the lighting seems to be in your favor; warm light spills behind you, highlighting the wisps of your hair.

“Oh, Mr. Lee! I was just coming out to see if you were here yet. Fei said she told you to come early.”

He thickly swallows before greeting, “Good evening, Miss L/N. You look… stunning.”

“Thank you. You look very handsome yourself. Do come in. I have something to discuss with you.”

He follows you to the main hall where the ball is to be held. The entire room is decorated like a greenhouse with vines tumbling down the walls and perfumed flowers on every surface. It is bright inside, as if the banquet hall has been bathed in sunlight. Stationary butterflies hang down from the ceiling, while steel dragonflies are strung like lights across the room. Your court members and some chaperones linger around the refreshment table, no doubt taste testing the morsels you have decided upon. Felix spots a tray of small tea cakes in the shape of leaves and makes a mental note to take a few for Mr. Han.

Upon seeing the two of you walking nearby each other, Miss Wang, your usual chaperone, lets out a theatrical gasp. “Miss L/N! Why did you not ask me to accompany you? You should know better. And on this day as well!”

“Miss Wang, no one is fooled by you. Besides, if it were to be on any day, today is the best choice,” interjects Miss Ryujin Shin, who holds a cup of punch in her hand. “After all, this is the gentleman she desires to court anyway.”

The other chaperones do not seem shocked by this revelation, presumably because they all knew already. Miss Choi and Miss Yuna Shin even clink their glasses against Miss Ryujin Shin’s in a mock toast.

“Ryujin’s right,” you agree. You turn your attention to Felix, and the room goes quiet. “I thought it would be best to ask you in person, and I know I don’t give you much time to think about it, but will you be my partner for the first dance? I meant to ask you the last time I visited, but there were a few things that had to be sorted out before I could.”

The orchestra begins rehearsing then, and the triumphant music perfectly matches how he feels. “I would be honored.”

The ball begins precisely at the hour, but guests begin allowing themselves inside a few minutes before. While you flitter about, greeting guests of importance and smiling at compliments, Felix mills around the sidelines in anticipation of the dance. He recognizes some of his customers, a couple of which say hello and show off the hats and headdresses he has designed for them. He politely engages in conversation with them before looking back at you. He does not know when the dance will begin, and he wants to be prepared for the moment.

Once he is alone again, you approach him with a secretive smile. “Are you ready?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“Of course. Let the ball begin.”

He holds out his hand for you, and you lead him to the center of the dance floor. The crowd takes note of this, and their chatter dies down to murmurs. Felix overhears some of the whispers, most of which are confused questions of who exactly he is, where Lord Kim is, and why you have selected him of all people. They take in his second-rate coat and the way you gaze at him in wonder. It has to be a jest, someone nearby mumbles.

However, you are unfazed by it all. You look over to the orchestra and give them a slight nod. They stop their light, airy opening number and begin a waltz piece. The butterfly wings of your headdress beat at the same tempo, and he suppresses a chuckle at the sight.

This time, Felix holds you at a respectable distance away, not wanting to exacerbate the growing rumors. More couples join in on the floor, but most of the attention is focused on the two of you.

“Everyone is watching,” he whispers as he twirls you around.

“I am the debutante,” you reply. “And it is only natural people stare at such a handsome gentleman.”

You flirt even more shamelessly than before, not even bothering to hide your flattery behind sly words. He has still not gotten used to it, which means his burning red ears are on display for everyone. Still, he smiles. “You will be alright with this when we court?”

“Of course. Will you?”

“Of course,” he repeats. “And will you be alright with your beau being more attractive than you?”

He has never teased you before, and you laugh at his overly serious demeanor as he says it. “Mr. Lee! Well, how could I be upset with having such a striking beau, especially one with charms like yours.”

He twirls you around again and pulls you a fraction closer. “I suppose this is as good as a time as any to ask: will you, Miss L/N, allow me to court you officially?”

You completely close the gap, earning several gasps from onlookers and Felix himself as your chest presses against his. With a wide grin on your face, you say, “Mr. Lee, I will.”

It is all anyone can talk about the following day: Miss Y/N L/N of a wealthy, upper class family is set to be courted by Mr. Felix Lee, the popular mechanical hatmaker. Through the shop window, Felix can see passersby trying to get a glimpse of him inside as he works. He has to close his store for the day because of the sheer amount of people visiting and treating him like an animal at an aquarium.

By the time the sun sets, less and less people pass by. By the time the gas lamps light up the street, your carriage drives up the street and stops in front of the store. You step out in a cornflower blue gown and knock on the door. Felix has been ready for you for hours now.

“Hello, Mr. Lee,” you greet. Your excitement is palpable as you say, “Shall we go on our first walk together?”

“Good evening, Miss L/N. And to you as well, Miss Wang.”

Your chaperone follows behind the two of you, ensuring that the two of you — well, mostly you — will be proper.

“Where shall we go? Around the block for tonight?” he suggests.

“My dear Mr. Lee, I will go anywhere you wish.”

Miss Wang halfheartedly reprimands you for the term of endearment, but Felix does not mind. You share a glance with him, and he already knows you will be calling him ‘dear’ until the end of time.

He could get used to that.

~ ad.gray

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