Kat *ੈ✩‧₊˚

[starkkat]

"your magic is so kind. it says more than words ever could."

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hellooo I'm Kat! welcome :) જ⁀➴ 23, she/they, bisexual, college senior, lover of all things whimsical

On the Horizon {works in progress}

~All The Stars in The Sky {Orufrey slowburn} Ch 1 & 2 are POSTED!! ~Tea Leaves and Lost Loves Pt 2

The Sky's Most Radiant Stars

~Flame Dancer {Fire Lord Zuko} ~Tea Leaves & Lost Loves {Fire Lord Zuko}

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do not repost, translate, or modify my work. DO NOT input my work into AI, or take ideas from my work without crediting me. thanks!

dividers by @pixopix

[piracytheorist]

[starkkat]

Happy pride to Orufrey🙂‍↕️

“Guys TRUST they’re gonna get a happy ending” I say from my padded room

[starkkat]

Tea Leaves & Lost Loves

Summary: Life working as a server at The Jasmine Dragon has always been peculiar to say the least. Turns out that lunatic Jet was right; the staff of Ba Sing Sei’s most beloved tea shop were firebenders. Not only that, but the bitter reclusive server boy? He was the disgraced Fire Nation Prince. So maybe you had no right to be shocked when your awkward work crush returned to the shop, with the crown of the Fire Nation perched on his head.

Pairing: Fire Lord Zuko x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.7k~

Content/Warnings: n/a

A/N: Rewatching the third season of ATLA and I just think the episode where Zuko goes on a date with the girl from Ba Sing Sei was so cute it has been living rent free in my mind. i might do a second part to this bc idk if i rlly like the cliffhanger rip

The dull white noise of conversation in the parlor, muffled by the cloth divider in the kitchen’s doorway, lulls your senses as you brew a new pot of tea for the noble who had just arrived. You rarely got to brew the shops’ finest Jasmine tea, the leaves saved for only the most honored guests. Beyond the partition, you could hear Iroh chatting idly with the newcomer, though you couldn’t make out who exactly was on the other end of the conversation.

You’ve been The Jasmine Dragon’s main server for years now, even doing a stint as acting manager when your boss, a man you knew as Mushi then, disappeared with little warning. The locals had been crestfallen to see the shop absent of its jolly owner, but you had made your best effort at keeping the place up and running on your own. Honestly? The most difficult part had been handling the return of Mushi; the whiplash of the admittance that he had been using a fake name, the now constant whispers of the patrons that the fiery young man you had worked with, Mushi’s nephew Lee, was actually the disgraced Prince of the Fire Nation.

It felt bizarre to picture Lee in anything other than his earthy colored uniform and apron with his scowling face, even if you had seen the illustrations of him in the regal garb of The Fire Lord that Iroh brought back with him after travelling home for his nephew’s coronation. The illustration was still pinned up there in the kitchen, the harsh rendition of those soft golden eyes always peering down at you as you worked.

“Fire Lord Zuko; Bringer of the Dawn of a new Fire Nation” Read the script that was scrawled down the side of the scroll. It was the only way you could really be reminded that Lee wasn’t his real name. In his ink rendering, Zuko was only slightly older than the last time you’d seen him in Ba Sing Sei. As the steam of the teapot swirled gently upwards, you were trying to picture how he might look now.

“How is it going back here?”  Iroh’s smiling face emerges from behind the cloth divider, jolting you back to reality.

“Almost finished, would you like me to fetch some pastries too?” You loaded the tea set onto the serving tray, already well aware that your indulgent employer would want a snack to go with the tea.

“That sounds lovely,” you could hear the smile in Iroh’s voice. “I’ll be taking our guest to the private parlor if you would be so kind as to join us once you’re done?” When the graying man sees you nod in response he ducks back out into the shop, leaving you to finish assembling the tray.

It’s not until you emerge back into the main parlor that you realize the ambience of chatter that typically fills the place is hushed. Patrons whisper excitedly at their tables and watch you like hawks as you carry the serving of tea and treats towards the closed private tearoom. The silence rings loud in your ears as you draw the door open to step inside.

The sight of him, sitting elegantly at the low table, knocks the breath from your lungs.

 He’s massive; a hulk of toned muscle with posture that made it clear he was royalty. Gone was the wiry boy you had bussed tables with, the slouched awkward teenager trying too hard not to look comfortable in the Earth Kingdom.

“Lee?”

The sound of his old alias brings an amused smile to the Fire Lord’s lips, and you feel your face set ablaze with embarrassment.

“Sorry. Fire Lord Zuko, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” You set the tea tray down on the oak wood table, kneeling to pour two cups of tea.

“It’s nice to see you too.” Zuko’s hands brush yours as you pass him the cup, and he fixes those gentle golden eyes on you.

“I hope my dear Uncle hasn’t been piling too much work on you as of late.”

Iroh scoffs as he scoops the teapot up from the tray and pours a third cup, gesturing for you to join them. You sit hesitantly.

“I wouldn’t have to drown the poor girl in so much work if I could find some other decent help.” He raises an eyebrow at his nephew, as if to imply that running the Jasmine Dragon should take priority over running the Fire Nation.

“Sorry Uncle, if I could trade council meetings for serving tea you know I would do so in a heartbeat.”

You can’t help it. You let out an embarrassing snort, choking on the swig of tea halfway down your throat as you try to hold your laughter. The Fire Lord furrows his brow at you and cocks his head to the side like a confused puppy, which only makes you giggle harder.

“You hated customer service.” You manage between gasps for air.

“Every shift you had something to complain about!”

You cross your arms and scrunch your face into a replica of the scowl he wore for his entire stay in the city and summon your best impression of Lee.

“How insufferable can they get?! They just want Jasmine tea; but they must want it brewed in a crystal teapot with the light of the full moon to imbue it with peaceful energy, because they’re never happy with how I make it!”

Iroh is doubled over with laughter. Zuko drops his face into the palm of his hand, his silky curtain of hair the only barrier concealing the scarlet flush creeping up his neck at your mocking performance.

“They kept saying they could feel my negative energy steeped into it.” He groans pathetically.

“If anyone in all of Ba Sing Sei could have steeped their grumpy energy into someone’s tea, it would be you.”

“Whatever, the point is somehow the Fire Nation nobles are worse.”

“Do they nag you about your negative energy as well?”

The sound of Iroh chuckling at your familiar bickering somehow returns you to your senses. You’re mocking The Fire Lord about his customer service skills, or lack thereof. You open your mouth again to apologize, but Zuko’s expression halts you. He looks at ease, eyes alight with his laughter.

“Politics is just customer service without a friend to complain to.” He shrugs.

“My only real reprieve is my letters to my friends; no one would intercept and read through my correspondence with the Avatar. I treat him like a private journal at this point.”

“You know you’re always welcome here!” Iroh reaches across the table to pat a hand on Zuko’s shoulder reassuringly. “Come visit whenever you need to let off some steam.”

Zuko rolls his eyes, but the smile lingers on his face. “Of course, I can always halt the rebuilding of the Fire Nation, the work on the reparations to the other Nations, the domestic humanitarian efforts; all projects I can put on the wayside. In fact, why don’t I tag in another member of the royal family to help me! Do you think Azula would take an interest in the infrastructure repairs in the Northern Water Tribe?”

A glint of mischief appears in Iroh’s kind eyes. “Alright, so you can’t just take time off to visit your aging uncle. At least spend some time with the lovely ladies of the Earth Kingdom while you’re visiting! Who knows, we may just find you a Fire Lady. That would relieve some of the council’s worry, wouldn’t it? I’m sure they would let up on you a bit if they knew you had at least a chance of producing an heir.”

You choke on your tea for the second time today. Zuko’s face has returned to the embarrassed pink color it was minutes before, and Iroh is grinning smugly as he looks between the two of you. You huff a strangled chuckle, starting to gather the empty dishes back onto the tray. Easiest to take this as your cue to leave; the idea of listening to Iroh rib Zuko about his love life sounded mortifying.

──────•✦•──────

When you stepped behind the partition the next morning, gathering your hair up into your hairpiece to keep it out of the way, you were stopped short by the figure occupying your place at the counter. Zuko had traded his scarlet silk robes for the muted cotton uniform of The Jasmine Dragon. His long hair was pulled into a neat knot at the back of his skull, lacking the gilded hairpiece he had worn yesterday. His calloused fingers handled the ceramics with a delicacy you wouldn’t have expected from him.

The Fire Lord was working his old customer service job.

And he looked obnoxiously good. Not that he hadn’t looked divine in his royal attire; but there was something about how human he looked, with his head free from the weight of a crown and a serving apron tied snugly at his hips, that made him painfully handsome.

“Come now, there’s work to get done!” Iroh bustled past you, the hint of laughter in his voice undisguised as he scolded you. “Help my nephew prepare for the group in the private parlor, would you?”

“Right, okay.” You’re quick to sling your own apron around your waist as you join Zuko at the counter.

“Hope you’ve been thinking happy thoughts while you brew.”

“Of course, all sunshine and rainbows over here.”

The soft chuckle your quip earns you sets loose butterflies in your stomach. It’s strange to have him here again. You feel hyper-aware of his every move, the way he radiates heat in the small kitchen, the sound of his breath as he lights the stove with his fingertips.

You try to let the rhythm of work take you over, to soothe the tension in your chest, and finally feel the weight of his presence lift slightly as you focus on the pastries you’re shaping. You feel more comfortable in the silence of work than the awkward pauses in conversation from yesterday, happy to let the clink of tea sets and the muffled ambience of the parlor be the soundtrack of the space.

The feeling of a hand on the small of your back, feather-light and cautious, jolts you from the flow of work. The warmth of Zuko’s palm bleeds through your shirt as he steps behind you. And then it’s gone, the only evidence of it happening at all is the blush burning bright on your cheeks.

“Sorry; I’ve got a tray of ceramics, didn’t want you to step back and bump into me as I passed.”

He’s balancing a full serving tray of cups on one hand, smiling softly at you over his shoulder. “Yeah, of course.”

Really eloquent today, aren’t you?

The rest of the day passes without a return to your mental sanctuary of workflow. You’re once again painfully aware of every movement Zuko makes, as if the air he shifts with each breath sets your every nerve on fire. When you step into the parlor to deliver a tea set to the newest arrivals, the place is packed. Not with the usual flow of nobles and couples on expensive dates, but with what must be every bachelorette in all of Ba Sing Sei. Their heads snap to the counter when the sound of your footsteps reaches them, fast enough to evoke a sympathetic pang of whiplash in your own neck, but as soon as they register it’s you the return to their whispered gossip. It’s almost unsettling to watch them perk their ears like dogs whenever the cloth divider shifts.

What a bizarre aura for the usually peaceful shop to have. It felt uncomfortable now to know that the patrons were waiting so intently for a glimpse of the Fire Lord.

“You might want to be careful going out there.” You tell Zuko as you duck back into the kitchen. “The ladies are prowling like huntresses.”

Zuko’s golden eyes are narrowed when he looks at you, brows furrowed in what you can only guess is confusion.

“Hm? What do you mean by that?”

You roll your eyes at him. As if he doesn’t know. “The court ladies in the parlor; they aren’t our regulars.”

That gorgeous scarred face stayed clouded by puzzlement, maybe he really hadn’t changed that much. Even when you were teenagers, girls had crowded into the shop to try and flirt with the angsty mysterious barista. His ignorance of their attempts to snatch his attention had only made him a more enticing individual.

“You’ll see when you take the next order out.” You sighed.

The spectacle of throwing Zuko to the wolves was too good to miss, so you lurked behind the counter as he assembled the tea tray you’d tasked him with bringing out. The second he emerged from the kitchen, brows still knit together with confusion, the parlor seemed to buzz with whispers. There was a heaviness to the air itself as the crowd of women watched Zuko cross the room to set the tray down on the nobleman’s table; and when he returned to the counter all hell broke loose. Girls flocked to the counter, all chattering over one another in an attempt to talk to the poor bewildered man behind it.

You were struggling to contain your laughter, wishing you could get a portrait made of the panicked expression on the Fire Lord’s face to tack up next to his royal flyer in the kitchen. But in some dark corner of your heart there was a twinge of jealousy you wished you could extinguish. It was that same childish resentment you had felt towards any dolled-up girl who had come in to the shop years ago asking for “that beautiful boy with the scar”, it felt ridiculous to feel it resurface now.

But through the cacophony of voices, Zuko seemed to pick out your laughter. He glared at you over his shoulder, but it was lacking any real fire behind it. Though he tried to maintain the scowl all the attention had put on his face, it softened at the sight of your smile.

“Don’t look so much like you’re enjoying this.” He pleaded.

“Oh, but I am enjoying it, Your Highness. Besides, wasn’t this the goal your dear uncle had in mind for your visit?”

The look of horror and the deep red shade that took the place of Zuko’s scowl just made you laugh harder.

──────•✦•──────

Iroh and Zuko departed early in the evening, leaving you to close The Jasmine Dragon on your own. You didn’t mind; the quiet of the empty shop was soothing. After all the dishes were set out to dry and the parlor had been swept, you tucked a parcel of leftover teacakes into your bag and began to lock up the shop.

Your heart plummets into your stomach when you turn from locking the front door to see a man leaning against the door frame, and your pulse only slows slightly when you register that it’s Zuko.

“Should you really be lurking outside the tea shop without any sort of royal guard?”

You glance around suspiciously for signs of the soldiers who had accompanied him and Iroh when they left earlier. “Seems kind of unsafe for The Fire Lord to be wandering the Earth Kingdom alone.”

“Should you be making the journey home alone this late at night?” There’s that ridiculous amused smile on his lips again as he quirks an eyebrow at you. “I think you’d be in a bit more trouble than me if someone decided to pick a fight.”

As badly as you want to conjure a rebuttal, you have to admit that he’s right. Compared to him you would be relatively helpless in a fight. His smile remains as he steps away from the door, gesturing for you to follow. The streets of Ba Sing Sei were lit by the gentle green glow of the lanterns strung between the shops lining the street. The only noise that broke the silence was the occasional clatter of a passing wagon and the sound of your footsteps.

What kind of small talk do you make with royalty?

The silence felt like a chasm between you two; your boldness to tease and joke with the Fire Lord now gone despite your best efforts to recall it to use. This was a man you’d spent lunch breaks and evening rushes with. The same guy you had chattered at endlessly a few years ago.

The same boy you’d even had the courage to kiss the last time he had walked you home like this.

You shiver at the unpleasant memory of that night; at the frown he had worn after the kiss, the awkward dodge of your request to go out together after your shift the next day. The way you two had parted had been humiliating; Zuko mumbling something about not being the kind of man you wanted before disappearing the next day after a huge fight with his uncle.

Maybe that was the real problem. Not that Zuko was royalty, or the son of a war criminal, or a close friend of the Avatar, just that he was almost like an ex.

But maybe you were being a bit delusional thinking one kiss would make you important enough to be awkward around.

It takes you an unbearable amount of time to finally speak, a feeble attempt to spark conversation. You feel almost childish asking, sheltered and naïve, but it was all you could think of discussing with him to ease this awkwardness between you two

“What is the Fire Nation like?”

You’ve been curious since Iroh returned from that first visit home, weighed down by spiced treats and beautiful formal garments. The Fire Nation felt to you like a far-off world, untouchable here in a land that hadn’t even been willing to acknowledge it when it had sent armies to its doorstep. You know Iroh would have happily talked of his homeland, but you had just never felt there was a good time to ask; to try and really understand who he and his nephew were. The lunch rush certainly wasn’t the time to ask your boss to divulge such personal things.

“Well, it’s much warmer, though I’m pretty sure you could already guess that much.” Zuko’s voice held no mocking tone, much to your relief.

“It’s a lot of urban area, especially in by the royal capital, shopping districts like this part of Ba Sing Sei. Our buildings are more Imperial style though, with bright red pillars and yellow roof tiles.” He glances sidelong at you, smiling softly with pride. “Lots of Dragon statues. And we throw lots of festivals, as a kid my favorite was the Solstice Revelry. Mother always had to keep me from eating too many spice cakes.”

“I think your uncle brought some of those home; I’d need to be cut off from them too, they were delicious.” Iroh had mentioned they were Zuko’s favorite, chuckling to himself as he reminisced on what you could now assume was an embarrassing story about Zuko eating too many sweets.

Zuko was laughing now too, a gentle sound tinged with embarrassment. As if reading your mind, he turns to you and asks, “Did he tell you about the time I tried to command a shop keeper to smuggle me more sweets after my mother asked the vendors to cut me off?”

“Now you have to tell me.” You grinned wickedly at the Fire Lord, eager to hear what was clearly a mortifying story. He grimaced half-heartedly, he was the one who brought it up, so it was only fair he tells you the whole story.

And he did. He confessed, face bright pink the entire time, that when he was a boy, he had eaten enough spice cakes to make himself sick. His mother had given the sweets vendors at next year’s festival strict instruction that he was not to be given any cakes.

“None at all?” you feigned horror, hand pressed dramatically to your chest. “How could they do that to you? Such disrespect!”

Zuko rolled his eyes at you, though the adorable awkward smile he had worn since he began the story stayed present on his lips. “That’s exactly what Azula said. That I couldn’t accept such coddling if I wanted to be respected as a member of the royal family; that it would be shameful to allow the vendors to refuse me service.” He shook his head, his raven hair swinging with the movement.

“I can’t believe I actually took her seriously, but I threw a whole fit at the next stall demanding that they not treat me like a toddler. It made me look even more childish than overeating the year before. Father was furious with me, I’ve never seen Azula look so pleased.”

You’ve done your best not to laugh as he’s been speaking; beneath your amusement you’re surprised he’s been willing to indulge you so far as to share such an embarrassing story. But when Zuko suddenly crosses his arms and halts, morphing his beautiful face into a pout, and begins to recreate his childhood attempt at a demand, you can’t contain yourself. He’s stomping his foot as he complains that he can’t be told no, he’s the Prince of the Fire Nation. You laugh so hard it hurts, and he doesn’t stop his ridiculous display until you’re doubled over and begging him to give you a break.

After minutes of gasping to regain your breath, you finally find your voice again. “Oh, I would have taken that to the grave. I can’t believe Iroh never told me that story.”

“I think he was trying to spare me the embarrassment of you having even more to poke fun at me for. Probably thought it would give me excuse not to visit the Jasmine Dragon.”

“I would have thought you didn’t need excuse to avoid returning to the city,” a slight frown tugs at the corners of your lips. “Didn’t think you would be inclined to visit a place you were miserable in.”

Zuko gave you no response, the silence once more taking weight as you creep slowly closer to the street your apartment was on. You’d likely overstepped in mentioning his discontent living in the earth kingdom, even if it was true.

“I always thought the stars in Ba Sing Sei were beautiful.” 

The sound of Zuko’s voice cutting through the din of the night again surprised you. And even more surprising was the admission that he liked something about the city. The fondness in his voice. He had always seemed to harbor a quiet resentment of the city; one you had always attributed to struggling with life as a refugee.

“The stars?” You craned your neck to look up into the sky, at the glimmers of light floating in the ink pool above your heads. They were beautiful, but you couldn’t quite understand what made them any more special than the others in the sky.

“They’re so bright here; in the Fire Nation capital the lanterns are usually kept burning bright late into the evening, so the stars are harder to see. It was one of the things I liked most about this place, even if I would’ve never admitted then that I liked anything about living here.”

“Oh wow, I didn’t realize even the stars in the Fire Nation could be different.”

You finally turn your gaze from the sky to find that Zuko isn’t even looking at the stars. He’s staring at you, smiling like you’ve done something endearing. A betraying blush finds its way onto your face as you knead the back of your neck to ease the strain of twisting it to view the sky.

The two of you continue walking, the silence now a bit more comfortable. You manage to break it occasionally with talk of the shop, of Iroh, and complaints about the customers that come into the shop. Zuko listens like your voice is siren song, never taking his eyes off you. When you reach your apartment, he continues to chat idly with you at the doorstep, easing the anxiety you had been brewing that perhaps you had upset him.

“I missed that sound.” He says suddenly, barely a whisper.

You had been laughing at a joke he’d made about what a pain the Chamberlin would be as a customer. The air in your lungs seems to freeze, like risking a breath would erase the sound of those words. You’re not even sure if he meant for you to hear.

“I missed you.”

You’re almost appalled by the vulnerability of it, that you would confess such a thing so readily. You hadn’t expected to ever see him again, especially once you had been told who he really was, but his absence from the shop had felt massive. Even once Iroh had returned and you weren’t drowning so completely in the loneliness of being in the shop alone.

“I thought you had simply forgotten me in putting your life as Lee behind you. Seeing as you seemed to hate life here so much.”

“I never forgot you.” Zuko didn’t look hurt by your selfish complaint, which almost makes you feel worse. “Even if I was bitter and angry living here, it never meant I wanted to leave you behind. I was so angry because I was lost, I had to find my place in the world.”

He’s looking at you with such sincerity that it’s almost painful to meet his gaze.

“I found myself, I’m less angry now.”

His smile is cautious, like he’s afraid you might run from him. “It’s uh… actually part of why I chose to visit. I thought maybe now that I know who I am and where I belong in the world, I could be deserving of your time.You were another thing I always loved about Ba Sing Sei.”

You feel your mouth drop open. “What?” Your voice is barely a croak, your shock robbing it of any volume. Zuko scrubs awkwardly at the nape of his neck, smiling shyly down at your dumbstruck expression.

“I never really gave you an answer on going on that date you asked about. If I recall correctly, I reacted pretty poorly and then disappeared the next day.” You nod.

“If you’re willing to forgive my broody teenage self for that, I’d really like to have another chance.”

You want to respond, but your brain is short-circuiting. You open and close your mouth, still stunned, trying to force your vocal cords to produce sound. The word yes seems to lodge itself firmly in your throat, unwilling to rise any further, so you just nod again. The smile that takes over Zuko’s face is blinding.

“Amazing. You have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this; seeing you again, I mean.”

“Really?” Your voice shakes pitifully, but Zuko still beams at you. “Really.”

“I’ve thought a lot about it too.” You feel sixteen again, blushing and mumbling like you’ve never spoken to a boy before.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to make you sick of me in one night, you should probably get to sleep.”

You unlock the door and turn to step into your home, but before you can shut it, Zuko calls your name. He hovers at the threshold of the apartment steps, brow furrowing briefly before he returns to you in the door frame and takes your hand in his. A whispered gasp escapes you as he presses his lips against your knuckles. Even after he had dropped your hand, the warmth of his touch lingered.

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow?” The quiet awkwardness you had found so endearing as a teenager had crept its way back into Zuko’s voice. You nod, mute once more, watching as the Fire Lord retreated down the steps with an impish grin on his face.

“Wonderful, sleep well then.” He glances over his shoulder a few more times as his hulking figure shrinks into the distance; you stand there on the steps long past his departure.

The Fire Lord just asked you on a date.

──────•✦•──────

TAGS @vianawaits

[zestivivi]

The sensei💫✨

[nolvini]

new moon

[starkkat]

OH MY GOD THIS IS SO GORGEOUS

[whatsupspaceman]

witch hat manga hurts so so bad but we have 2 stay strong bc ONE DAY we’re gonna get that first splash page fullbody orufrey crying hug drawn in crisp 4k by shirahama and it is gonna hit like a tractor trailer going 90 on a country backroad.

[starkkat]

Happy witch hat Monday today seems like a great time to say I stand by my morally grey wife and support all of his rights and wrongs

[bloodraven55]

kinda love the ominous ass cinematography they're using for qifrey bro really looks lowkey evil as fuck sometimes

[starkkat]

All the Stars in the Sky

Orufrey Slowburn wip!

Summary: Qifrey has to leave the Great Hall. It cannot be his home; he can’t afford to put down roots here. But when his closest friend Olruggio becomes his Watchful Eye, embarking with him on his new path as a teacher, the threat of home comes with him into the countryside.

.✦ ݁˖ | Chapter 1: What Makes an Atelier a Home

.✦ ݁˖ | Chapter 2: Working Down to the Bone

જ⁀➴more chapters coming soon~

[starkkat]

Trying desperately to work on ch3 of this but my summer classes are jumping me😔

[chiimezzzz]

Breakfast one day

It was a cold day for the Atelier. Snow fell lightly outside, powdering rocks, plants, roads and buildings in a white sheet. Despite the cold, a few birds still seemed to hum as rosy fingered dawn emerged from across the horizon, casting the Atelier in a soft warm glow that somehow made everything feel warmer. Qifrey stood in the dainty kitchen of his home. His hair stuck out in some places, and his glasses laid askew on his face, still weary from a long night of sleep; he continued to don the attire he wore the night before, simple plain white pajamas and a long-sleeved tunic, that had a small portion on the front that held the same pleated pattern the girls wore on their dresses, and two buttons- that served no purpose whatsoever-

It was on chilly mornings like this he remembered how grateful he was to have moved outside the great hall. He never appreciated being met with the dome, and outside it the ocean, on mornings where he vaguely remembers sunshine and warmth. He never really was able to remember his past that deeply, but at times like this, where the winters cold sent a chill up his spine only to be countered by the warmth brought upon by his unruly band of apprentices, did he not mind starting anew.

And speaking of his dear apprentices. If he could guess, they’d still be asleep by now, all tucked in bed in an effort to ward away the chill. It was well past their regular wake up time, even Qifrey himself was surprised how late he’d waken up.

Despite that he decided to prepare breakfast anyways.

He moved around the kitchen slowly, minimizing noise to avoid stirring the other inhabitants of his Atelier. He placed a pan on the stove, its color changing from a silvery steel to a cobalt black, one of the many inventions of his dear Olly, the color change imminent to distinguish when the pan was hot and unsafe to touch. Once the inky black of the pan had fully settled, he grabbed the oil bottle, skillfully unhooking the metal pieced that clogged the nozzle of the bottle closed, and poured a generous amount of oil into the searing pan. The oil was quick to bubble, heating up as seconds ticked by. He then grabbed six eggs, cracking the first five on the outskirts of the pan, then one in the middle. He allowed them to cook for a while, a yawn leaving his mouth as he put his hand up his shirt, scratching his stomach. He let his hand stay there, finding its warmth rather comforting. Once the white of the eggs had cooked halfway, he opened the vapor bubble and dipped his hand it, he splashed the water from his fingers into the pan, steam beginning to rise. Before more of the steam could escape, he closed the pan off with a lid, allowing it to cook for a minute or two before snuffing out the fire and lifting the lid.

He couldn’t help but smile at the fruits of his labor; laid out beautifully on the pan was six sunny side up eggs, charred a golden brown just right at its edges, its yolk still slightly runny.

He quickly set them on plates while they were still hot.

He grabbed three magic cookpots from the shelf near the stove, a small one containing mashed carapace yam that Tetia and Richeh collaborated to make. It was mixed with horncap gravy, butter, pepper, and cheese- all mixed up making what they called the ‘Richeia special mash’ taste absolutely divine. Qifrey couldn’t help himself when he put a finger full of the soft pasty like store in is mouth, relishing in the way it seemed to melt on his tongue. The mash had been getting smaller and smaller, always incorporated in meals just like the one he was making, hence the small jar. He took about a cup each of the mash for each plate.

The next jar was much bigger, this time containing soft, white rice. Unlike the other jars, this one was newer, being made just a week ago in preparation for winter, when rice grains would be a tad bit more expensive. This one had been made by Coco and Agott. The rice was boiled in light herbs and spices, giving it a more unique flavor profile, one that Qifrey more than enjoyed. He also took about a cup of rice for each plate, shaping it into a small dome using a bowl before placing it on the white ceramics.

The last jar- one much taller than the rest, though not as big, held crispy bacon. It was leftovers from yesterday’s breakfast. Thanks to the spell, it was just as crunchy and tasty as it was the day before, vouched by Qifrey who took one into his mouth, chewing on it happily. He took four for each plate.

He finished setting the table by placing utensils and glasses meant for water or whatever other beverage they had in store. He stared at his work with pride. It was silly. This was but a simple task in comparison to his other more notable feats. He agreed so, but the love he put into this simple meal made it all the more special. A smile graced his face, and he felt rather embarrassed getting giddy so easily. But who was he to stop the undeniable warmth that surged his chest? He seemed to forget about the world around him when thinking of the very people he made this meal for; his four apprentices, all working so hard in hopes to improve and soar above. They were oh so tired after the night of Silver-eve, all four of them offering great contributions during the time of need. He was blinded by his miserable predicament then, but now that things had calmed down, he couldn’t be anymore prouder, and he wished he had been more present when they returned to Atelier. He truly did hope they didn’t take his coldness for anything else other that restlessness.

Qifrey is alerted of another person near him when footsteps start tracking their way down the hallway, a yawn following it as they grew closer, and therefore louder. The steps halt underneath the arched doorway that separated the hall and the living room. A mop of pink hair peeked above the stone wall that separated the pit the kitchen sat in and the elevated living room. Soon enough, the interested face of Tetia popped up just behind the wall at the top of the small stairs.

“G’morning ms’tr Q’frey…” Greeted she, voice still disabled by sleep and wear.

Their dining area was a small wooden platform that sat adjacent to the small stairs; There, sat a chabudai, and six different zafu. For the girls was a round green one that sunk in the center for Coco, a purple square one with white polka dots and lace trim jutting the corners for Agott, a pink one shaped into a dainty heart made with fluffy fabric for Tetia and last but certainly not the least, an rectangular blue one, its velvety fabric similar in color to one of Richeh’s famous crystal ribbons. Then for he and Olruggio, a twin set of white and black round leaf shaped pillows. Bought when they were just apprentices themselves, they found the twin set of Zafu cushions seemed to follow them wherever they found themselves settled.

His eyes followed Tetia, smile tainted in playful amusement as she wobbled her way onto her spot at the table, smiling drowsily. It wasn’t long until the rest of the girls came to join, all of them yawning and hungry, eyes sparkling in delight upon seeing ang smelling the meal Qifrey prepared. Last to arrive at the table was Olruggio. Unlike the rest that wore sleepwear; the girls in cream white sleeping gowns, and Qifrey in his long-sleeved tunic and pajama pants, Olruggio seemed to still wear yesterday’s attire, his usual working outfit minus the big robes and cap, hair tousled and eyebags heavier than usual. Another night of drafting a new device, Qifrey concluded. Qifrey patted the white pillow that laid empty beside him, inviting the haggard man to the meal. Olruggio let out, what Qifrey could vaguely describe as a grunt or grumble as he made his way to the magic stove, walking past the eating girls and the inviting witch.

“Well, pleasant morning to you as well, Olruggio” Said Qifrey, voice feigning innocence and sweetness.

The Grumbling man grunted once more in reply. Reaching the stove, he took a mug from the hanger, putting it down on the stoves table, before putting in a handful of ground coffee beans into a coffee maker. The lid of the coffee maker contained a ringless spell, runes of fire, water and wind were drawn on it. Once he put the lid on the device, it connected with its ring and the spell activated. Olruggio let the magic contraption finish its work before pouring the freshly brewed and searing hot beverage into his mug. Only then did he make his way to the table, sipping his drink as he did so. Plopping down on his chair, he leaned his head on Qifrey’s shoulder.

He sighed heavily, still weary from sleep. Qifrey in turn laid his head on the black mop of hair. They both basked in the noise the four girls provided as white noise; ceramic plates clanking against metal utensils, chewing, talking, laughing, fabric shuffling.

“I could get used ta this..” Olruggio mumbled softly. His eyes drifted up, half expecting Qifrey to be looking back. He wasn’t. His blue eye was gazing at the scene infront of them: Agott feeding Coco as Tetia and Richeh giggled in the background. Agott held out a spoonful of the carapace yam. Her hand shook lightly as she pushed int forward to Coco’s open mouth. She held a hand under the spoon incase she were to drop the mash from her shaky hands.

“yeah..” Qifrey whispered, eyes looking down to find Olruggio already looking. The two men just stared at each other, smiles dopey and fond. They were oblivious to the fact that the girls had quieted down, their attention of their professors staring into each other’s eyes.. eye? Eye eyes’s? they didn’t know either really. Their brunch ended with all four apprentices washing the dishes as their mentors swept and dusted the atelier.

Once all the chores were finished, the four girls separated into groups of two, resigning themselves to their study rooms to.. well, study. Olruggio went back to his workshop, grumbling small complaints about difficult clients and nonsense mechanics, all the while Qifrey laughed. The ivory haired witch was the last to leave the living space of the Atelier.

He grimaced as he felt his shoulder begin to ache.

>lwkey a drabble

[starkkat]

They’re so precious to me this was so cute🥲

[suremaybeiguess]

Wait I’m already crying

[wavepriisms]

reminder that next week we get richeh body slamming a cop

[xuanelle]

something about beldaruit being disabled himself and teaching qifrey who is also disabled and suffers from chronic pain in the way he does is very special to me. you rarely ever get disabled teachers at all but qifrey learnt how to be one and wanted to be one in part because of his own...it's really sweet

[starkkat]

They’re so important to me as a fellow chronic pain girly the disabled rep in witch hat atelier is so so important to me

[starkkat]

11 assignments just spawned into my canvas I could actually cry (I willingly signed up and paid for these classes) I just want to get over my writers block about Orufrey I don’t wanna do my degree

[burnoull]

[ekashuu]

Angry Qifrey🌊

…and the shadows will never find you🌊

DON’T EVER TOUCH QIFREY’S DAUGHTERS😤🌊

[starkkat]

New pfp because I’m rereading Apothecary Diaries and I love mao mao and her little cat ears hair🙂‍↕️