#he one who raised Fitz

[floradelisstuff]

I refreshed my Burrich in the stables created sometime ago and here are 2 others that I never posted here as well. Stables filled with sunlight...

[femmefitz]

I find the blame being placed on Fitz for Nettle not knowing anything about palace life before going to Buckkeep interesting because I do think a large part of that decision would have been Molly and Burrich's well before it was Fitz's.

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to Dukes and Duchesses

This new series will offer an indepth view of each noble title in the standard European hierarchy of noble titles. Here we will discuss what they are, their lands, their jobs and everything you need to know when writing them.

What is a Duke exactly?

A Dukedom is the highest rank in most noble hierarchies. The Duke rules a section of land within the Kingdom known as a Duchy, for example the Duke of Lancaster or can be a standalone title, Duke of Rothesay. A Dukedom is inherited through the family line, from father to so but the title is bestowed on the by the monarch. Monarchs can also give their children Dukedoms, and often do. For example the second son of the King of France would be the Duc d'Orleans.

Titles, Titles

The Duke is the highest ranking in the land. They are the first among the nobility, among the wealthiest, with the most prestige. A Duke is referred to as 'Your Grace'. If one is meeting a Duke in a social setting, nobles would call them Duke whilst underlyings would call them "Your Grace". A Duke would also hold subsidiary such as an Earldom or two, a Barony or three. But would go by Duke as it is the highest title. Fun fact, Carlos Fitz-James Stuart (pic above) has the most titles:

He is: Carlos Fitz-James Stuart, Duke of Alba, Grandee of Spain, Duke of Berwick, Grandee of Spain, Duke of Huéscar, Grandee of Spain, Duke of Liria and Jérica, Grandee of Spain, Count-Duke of Olivares, Grandee of Spain,Marquess of Carpio, Grandee of Spain, Marquess of La Algaba, Marquess of Barcarrota, Marquess of Castañeda, Marquess of Coria, Marquess of Eliche, Marquess of Mirallo, Marquess of la Mota, Marquess of Moya, Marquess of Osera, Marquess of San Leonardo, Marquess of Sarria, Marquess of Tarazona, Marquess of Valdunquillo, Marquess of Villanueva del Fresno, Marquess of Villanueva del Río, Count of Lemos, Grandee of Spain, Count of Lerín, Grandee of Spain, Constable of Navarre, Count of Miranda del Castañar, Grandee of Spain, Count of Monterrey, Grandee of Spain, Count of Osorno, Grandee of Spain, Count of Andrade, Count of Ayala, Count of Casarrubios del Monte, Count of Fuentes de Valdepero, Count of Fuentidueña, Count of Galve, Count of Elves, Count of Modica, Count of San Esteban de Gormaz, Count of Santa Cruz de la Sierra, Count of Villalba, Viscount of la Calzada, Lord of Moguer.

The Family of the Duke

The wife of a Duke is a Duchess. If a Duke is married to a man, while there is no real world examples, I would personally say they would take one of those other subsidiary titles I mentioned above. Same thing with a ruling Duchess and her wife. However, a ruling Duchess's husband usually sticks with whatever title he came with. The heir of the Duke usually inherits their parent's next highest title, usually an Earldom. The other children are styled as Lord/Lady Firstname.

The Role of the Duke

As the Duke is leader of the Duchy, which is a large section of the kingdom. They are in control of this section, the highest power in law and order, politics and all things in that section with only the monarch above. They handle administration at the highest level, raising troops from their duchy for the crown in times of war, see the collection of taxes and sometimes they might even advise the monarch if they are offered a place of the monarch's council. They would also attend the monarch at their coronation.

Cribs

Dukes like a lot of nobility would have multiple houses, manors, estates etc. Their homes would be the grandest in the land and the social hubs for the Duchy and even the country. A Duke would sometimes live at court when invited but would also have the homes in the capital. This vast portfolio can become a source of income as the Duke can rent them out or a handy way to shelf relatives who depended on them.

[ruewrote]

𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑑𝑎𝑦.

PAIRING: josh washington x gn!reader WARNINGS: reader has longish hair, no use of y/n GENRE: fluff SONG INSPIRATION: out of my league by fitz and the tantrums WORD COUNT: 1.2k REQUESTED: yes

navigation | ask | josh washington masterlist

the chill in the air was biting, but you felt warm, tucked close beside josh as you both settled on a bench near the edge of the overlook. the mountain stretched out before you, blanketed in fresh snow that sparkled under the clear winter sky, while the lodge loomed in the distance behind you, cosy but full of life.

he had one arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you against him, while his other hand gestured animatedly as he recounted some story from his childhood. you weren’t even fully paying attention to the words; you were more focused on how happy he looked, his eyes bright with laughter, the smile on his face one of the most genuine you'd ever seen.

“and then,” josh said, chuckling as he shook his head, “chris, of course, freaked out, totally bolted. we’re all yelling for him to come back, and he just kept screaming, ‘it’s gonna get me!’ i think we all got grounded after that one.”

you laughed, imagining a younger josh and chris running through the snow, getting into trouble the way they always seemed to. “let me guess, you were the mastermind behind it?”

“hey, i was just an innocent bystander!” he held his hands up in mock innocence, grinning when you raised a sceptical eyebrow. “okay, maybe a little bit. but who can really blame me?”

you laughed, leaning into his side, he tightens his arm around you, brushing his lips against the top of your head. for a moment, you just sat there in comfortable silence, breathing in the crisp air and listening to the quiet sounds of the mountain.

“this is nice,” he murmured, breaking the silence, his voice soft and thoughtful.

“yeah, it really is,” you agreed, smiling as you looked out over the expanse of white and towering pines. the mountain felt serene, almost untouched, and being there with him made it even better. 

josh glanced down at you, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “wanna go sledding down one of these hills?”

you looked at him in mock horror. “are you serious? i don’t trust you to steer.”

he laughed, reaching over to poke your side. “come on, where’s your sense of adventure? besides, i’d steer us perfectly… into the nearest snowbank.”

you shook your head, giggling as he tickled you, pulling you closer when you tried to squirm away. finally, you gave in, nodding. “alright, but only if you promise to actually avoid trees.”

“no guarantees,” he grinned, standing up and offering his hand. “But i guess i’ll try for you.”

the two of you tramped through the snow, finding an untouched hill nearby, your laughter echoing through the trees as you settled onto the sled from the lodge, holding tightly onto each other. 

as you flew down the hill, nothing but non stop laughter was shared. you were both out of breath when you finally landed in a heap at the bottom, a mix of happy tears and snowflakes.

josh brushed snow off your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “i think this was the best idea i’ve had all day.”

you leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his nose, feeling that familiar warmth spread through you. “it was perfect.”

with a soft smile, he leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was slow and gentle, melting away the cold and wrapping you in a warmth. 

when you finally pulled back, josh’s eyes sparkled, his grin widening. “ready to go again?”

you laughed, shaking your head as you leaned into his side. “as long as you’re with me? always.”

after an hour or so outside in the snow, you decided to finally make your way back into the lodge, cheeks pink and hands cold but hearts happy. you busied yourselves in the kitchen, gathering mugs, marshmallows, and chocolate to whip up hot cocoa for everyone, while sneaking kisses and lingering touches whenever you could. 

every few minutes, josh would tug you close, wrapping you up in his arms, pressing kisses to your forehead, making you giggle and playfully roll your eyes as he grinned down at you.

as the mugs were finally filled, you shared a look, a silent agreement that the rest of the afternoon was yours to make the most of. the two of you set off, grabbing mike and jess for a quick round of card games that spiralled into laughter and not so serious arguments. 

josh kept one hand resting on your leg as he played. each time you leaned into him, you felt the warmth of his breath on your neck, his smile against your shoulder. it was clear to everyone around you just how smitten he was.

as the hours drifted by, the two of you wandered back outside to catch the last of the daylight, throwing snowballs and making clumsy snow angels before retreating inside, cold and ready for a warm meal. 

in the kitchen, you all got together and prepared a big dinner. josh passed you ingredients, occasionally reaching over to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his gaze never faltering as he looked at you. between each dish, he’d pull you close, pressing a soft kiss to wherever he could reach.

when dinner was finally served, everyone gathered, voices filling the room with easy chatter. you and josh exchanged smiles across the table. he reached over to squeeze your hand under the table, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

after the meal and another round of games, the lodge gradually grew quiet as everyone started retreating to their rooms, the warmth of the day leaving a glow in the air. the two of you slipped away to his room, where the fire crackled, casting a golden light across the space. 

you could hear the faint murmur of conversation from down the hall, but as he pulled you into his arms everything else faded away.

pulling the blankets around you both as you settled in, limbs tangling together in a comforting embrace. his fingers combed through your hair, moving slowly, gently, before trailing down your back. you shivered, feeling the warmth of him pressed against you, the steady rhythm of his breathing calming your own.

“i know i joke around alot, but i mean it when i say you mean alot to me,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper as he gazed at you, his hand tracing slow circles along your back..

you didn’t need words to respond; instead, you let yourself lean into him, nuzzling closer into his chest as you felt his arms tighten around you, anchoring you in the gentle quiet. the warmth of the fire filled the room, wrapped up in each other, content in a silence that needed no explanation. 

as the minutes drifted by, his hand moved to stroke your hair, his fingers threading through in a soothing rhythm, and you felt yourself growing drowsy, his warmth and presence lulling you into a peaceful haze. with every gentle touch, you felt cherished. 

as you lay there, eyes heavy, you felt him press a kiss to your forehead.

“i love you,” that was all it took for you to finally fall asleep.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ @daisydark

© ruewrote 2024.

[mrsmikaelsxn]

Drunk Bliss

masterlist

pairing: jj maybank x female reader

warning: intoxication, mentions of alcohol, one suggestive innuendo

summary: you and the pogues - excluding jj - were at a party and you got so drunk they had to call your boyfriend to pick you up

a/n: guys i kinda hate this but i hope you don't ):

song: out of my league - fitz and the tantrums

"Maybe you should have some water!" Kie yells over the loud music while trying to take the new glass of alcohol from you.

"I- I don't neeeed water, Kieee- Kiara," you slur and squint your eyes at her.

Kie puts an arm around your shoulders, trying to stop your swaying. "You had about seven cups- which is way too much."

You look at your hands and try to count to seven with them. Kie laughs and brings you over to Sarah. "What should we do with her?"

"You should dance with me!"

"How can you dance if you can hardly stand?" Sarah giggles.

"S-standing is over- overraaa- overrated," you grab Sarah and Kie's hands, pulling them and slightly tripping on the way.

"One dance," Kie says and then leans over towards Sarah, "then we'll call JJ."

She nods and you three hold hands as you jump around carelessly to the music.

You stop suddenly and frown. The two girls look at you with slight head tilts. "What's wrong?"

You look around and your eyebrows raise, "Where's my boyfriend?"

Sarah and Kie glance at each other. "He's at home, he didn't want to come tonight."

You look at them with now teary eyes, "He didn't want to come with me?"

"No! No, I- I mean yes! He... he did, but uh-" Sarah bumps hips with Kie, asking her to help.

"Uh, JJ's at home because, um, he was making you a bracelet! Right, Sarah?"

"Oh, yes! Mhm!"

You sniff and wipe under your eyes. "I see. He's so sweet," you smile.

Kie turns to the blond, "You think he'll be mad when she's expecting a bracelet from him?"

"Hm, maybe," she shrugs.

You start walking and you see Pope sitting on a couch. "Pope! Popo! Pooooope," you fall onto the seat next to him. "How are you, my friend?"

Sarah and Kie follow and stand near the two of you. He looks at you and smiles, "I'm good. How are you? Having any fun without JJ-"

"No!" Kie and Sarah shout. "Don't mention him," they hiss. They learned you were a bit of an emotional drunk a while back.

You're eyes water again, "I miss him."

Pope moves you so that you can lay your head on his lap. He runs his hands through your hair soothingly. "How much has she had to drink?" Pope mouths to the girls.

They hold up seven fingers and his eyes widen. John B jumps over the back of the couch and lands on the other side of Pope. "Let's just call him?"

JJ was in his bed.

This is probably the first time he hasn't gone to a party with his friends. Who is he to miss out on free alcohol.

However, earlier that day, you and JJ were sitting on the beach together and you were ranting to him about your favorite book.

He asked you if he could read it, seeing as you were talking so passionately about it.

So here he was, alone in bed reading the book on a friday night. That's until his phone rings next to him. He grabs it and answers the call from John B.

"Hey," he says putting a bookmark in the book.

"Hey, man. Can you come get y/n?"

He sits up and gets out of bed. "Yeah? Why? Is something wrong?"

"Eh. She's just really drunk. Kie and Sarah are currently trying to stop her from taking some shots."

JJ laughs and starts putting on his shoes. "Alright I'm leaving now."

"Kay, see you," John B hangs up and JJ leaves.

JJ walks into the party and goes to where Pope and John B were talking.

"Ah, the man of the hour has arrived!" John B pats his shoulder. "She's over there," he nods his head to you.

JJ nods and walks over to you, Sarah, and Kie. When he gets behind you he puts an arm around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. "Hello, pretty girl."

You turn around and a bright smile goes onto your face. "JJ!" You put your arms around him and squeeze him in a tight hug. "I mis-missed you," you hiccup.

"I missed you too," he kisses your forehead. He nods at the other two girls. Sarah and Kie nod back with smiles and went back to dancing. "Why don't we head home, yeah?"

"Okayyy," you lean your head against his shoulder.

JJ walks you out and to the car. He puts your seatbelt on and then goes into the driver's seat.

As he drives, your head faces him and admire him. "You are like, soo pretty."

His head turns you you with a boyish grin before he looks back at the road. "Thank you, sweetheart. You're like, soo gorgeous."

You look out the window and giggle to yourself. He glances at you and chews his bottom lip.

"Oh!" You sit up straight, "Are you almost done with my bracelet? I want matching ones with you."

His loving face turns to one of confusion. "Bracelet? What bracelet?"

"Sarah and Kie said you stayed home to make me a bracelet," you frowned.

"Umm, I stayed at home to read your book, remember?"

"Hmm. Oh yes! Can we make matching bracelets still?"

"Of course we can. Tomorrow when you're able to. I don't think you can use the string correctly with all that alcohol in you."

"Whatever you say, Jay," you say and then laugh. "That rhymes."

"It does," JJ nods.

"JJ, I'm hungry," you sigh.

"What are you in the mood for?"

"You," you grin.

He looks at you with a blank face when you burst out laughing. "I'm just kidding. Maybe. No, I'm not."

He smiles and reaches over to hold your hand. "Silly girl."

"I'm going to take a nap," you put your head against the window.

"Alright, love. Dream about me?"

"Always," you lazily grin at him while your eyes flutter shut.

[intuitive-revelations]

FLUXES [Celestis: Engineered Participants / Technologies] Example: "DOCTOR, The"

[Image description, courtesy of @quailfence: a series of pictures of text, alternated with screencaps and gifs from Doctor Who.

1: Text: Fluxes: [Celestis: Engineered Participants/Technology] Individuals transposed backwards in time but not too far in space, using a very high chaotic limiter setting and tied to their home period by a thread of biodata

2: The Eleventh Doctor stands in the future corpse of his TARDIS, looking and a pulsing stream of light that has replaced the console. He says, "That is the scar tissue of my journey through the universe. My path through time and space."

3: Text: He raised a finger. 'Look. There.

Now she could just make out the thread in the moonlight. It was just a faint reflection, maybe a foot or two long, about a metre off the ground. A taut strand of spiderweb hanging in the air, not attached to anything.

'What is it?' Fitz asked.

'It's only partially rotated into three dimensions,' he said. He pushed his finger right through the glimmering line, without affecting it. 'That's why it looks one- or two-dimensional. The rest is still perpendicular to what we can see - woven into higher space, or the time vortex…'

'Yes,' said Fitz, 'but what is it?' 'It's what your friend mistook for a ley line.' The Doctor was scuttling around the silver thread, peering at it from every angle, getting more and more agitated. 'It's part of the fabric of space-time itself. What DNA is to your genetic code, this stuff is to biodata. And it's all just exposed here now. Personality, history, memory, perception, all vulnerable…'

'I'm going to have to ask you again, aren't I?' said Fitz.

The Doctor said, 'It's me.'

4: The Fourteenth and Fifteenth doctors in the TARDIS. 14: "But you're fine?" 15: "I'm fine, because you fixed yourself. We're Time Lords, we're doing rehab out of order."

5: Text: The subject is turned loose in his or her own history, and the limiter setting allows tiny actions taken by the future version to have considerable effects on the past version. The biodata link then transfers these changes to the future version, which alters it, and thus alters the changes made to the past version. Therefore, the individual's history is kept constantly in flux.

6: The Fugitive Doctor says, "Let me take it from the top: Hello, I'm the Doctor."

7: Text: Let me finish. Think back to that time when you went to see your previous selves.

8: Ten, Eleven, and War talk to each other. Ten: "You're not actually suggesting that we change our own personal history?" Eleven: "We change history all the time. I'm suggesting far worse."

9: Text: 'Maybe there's no one home on Gallifrey,' said the boy softly. There was just the one of him.

The Doctor looked at him, cupping the small white cube in his hands. The boy said, Maybe they all left. Or maybe the whole planet's being destroyed, and undestroyed, and destroyed, and you just caught them at the wrong moment.

10: The TARDIS by the ruins of Gallifrey

11: Text: 'It's impossible,' said the Doctor. 'It's impossible for my people. Our past is unreachable. What's written can't be unwritten.'

'Who said your history can't change?'

Another boy answered, 'Someone from his history.'

And another: 'Maybe it's the second-biggest lie in Time Lord history.'

12: Dhawan!Master tells Thirteen, "You are the Timeless Child."

13: Thitreen stares at a ruined house. Swarm whispers in her ear and tells her, "All the memories you've lost, all the people you've been. It's all in there, contained within that house."

14: Text: And it was like the Doctor's home. As if his ship understood the loss of the House and had compensated to fill the emptiness. Shadowy corridors, alcoves and stairways, a secret at every turn. Like being in the Doctor's head. Like his life, for that matter, the details of which were strewn like flotsam across the floor.

15: Text: 'Sweet,' said the little boy. 'That's my favourite of your origin stories, too.'

The Doctor opened his eyes. He had been laughing, he realised, he felt that lightness in himself. The boys had all moved away, behind him, leaving him facing the empty dark of the warehouse.

'What do you mean?' he asked. His voice sounded very small.

'Is this the version where they banned all mention of his name, and yours, for consorting with aliens? Or the one where he got every record of himself deleted from the files?'

'Feel free to believe either of them,' snapped the Doctor, 'or both of them, or neither of them. If you're curious about my past, I want there to be as many wrong answers as possible.'

16: The Eighth Doctor tells someone, "I'm half human. On my mother's side."

17: Text: 'Well he's a hybrid, you know that. A Gallifreyan not born of Gallifreyan, the one who unites the two races and brings good old human niceness into their alien society. Aliens need that, y'know.'

'A human hybrid? She saw the contempt in his curling lip. 'Pseudoscientific nonsense. There's no evidence,' he repeated.

'He's allowed to be different. He's got a prophecy and everything.'

18: Lady Me says, "By your own reasoning, why couldn't the Hybrid be half Time Lord, half human?"

19: Text: Someone giggled. 'Let's play pin the tale on the donkey.'

'Maybe you didn't use to have a father.'

'Maybe you're living in the middle of a time war. Maybe there's an Enemy out there -'

The Doctor shouted, 'I'm not listening!'

'- who's rewriting you when you're not looking!'

'Maybe you weren't always half human.'

'But now you've become always half human.' 'Maybe you weren't always a Time Lord.'

But now you've always been a Time Lord.'

'Maybe you originally came from some planet in the forty-ninth century. Fleeing from the Enemy who'd overrun your home -'

'I said I'm not listening! Laa laa laa laa laa -'

'- and you've just been written and rewritten and overwritten, ever since.'

'Pin the tale!'

'How d'you know it's not true?'

'How could you know it's not true?'

The voices crowded in. 'How would you know, huh?'

'How would you know?'

'How would 'How would you 'How 'How would you know? you know? you know? know?'

'Why would I care?' shouted the Doctor.

The boy fell silent.

20: Lady Me asks, "Am I right? Is it true?" Twelve replies, "Does it matter?"

21: Text: However, the one group from the Homeworld which has excelled at flux-engineering is the Celestis.

22: Two asks the Time Lords, "Now then… what about me?"

23: Tecteun tells Thirteen, "Which is ehy we engineered the Fluyx: Shut the universe down and you within it."

24: Text: Even Mictlan itself can be considered a kind of enormous flux, an endlessly-shifting realm so cortosive to the rest of history that its heartland has to be kept on the outer skin of the universe

24: The Fourteenth Doctor tells Donna, "I invoked a supersition, at the edge of the universe, where the walls are thin and everything is possible."

25: The space station from Wild Blue Yonder

26: Text: There are suggestions of a stable middle-ground between the two fates, in which the physical matter of the flux is lost but the meaning of the subject/ victim is retained, a series of memetic connections with no flesh to support it. Yet this entity exists only on a purely theoretical level, relying on the perceptions of others to survive at all.

27: The Twelfth Doctor walks up to the TARDIS console. He says, "Can't wait to hear what I say." Glancing at the viewer, he adds, "I'm noting without an audience."

28: Text: You know what Sam represents. If a tree falls in a forest and no one's there to hear it, does it make a sound? Stop me if I'm getting too abstract here, but if a Time Lord saves the world and nobody witnesses him doing it, does history care? She's your witness. The thing you need to make you whole.

29: The First Doctor looks at the viewer and says, "Incidentally, a Happy Christmas to all of you at home!" End description.]

[Plain text: Fluxes [Celestis: Engineered Participants / Technologies] Example: "Doctor, The". End plain text.]

@dw-described

[zairene]

OUT OF MY LEAGUE. yuji itadori

* ˚ ✦ synopsis: now that you and itadori crossed paths again and ended up together, you both reminisce on middle school memories.

* ˚ ✦ genre: drabble

* ˚ ✦ author’s note: out of my writer’s block ! yippee ! inspired by the song out of my league by fitz and the tantrums !

“what?” itadori said, almost as if he was going to laugh.

“you thought that you were out of my league?” he was in disbelief. it wasn’t a secret that itadori was well-liked in middle school. there was not one person who disliked him—including you. and saying that you liked him was an understatement, you had huge feelings for him. you had never approached him in the past because you were the embodiment of a social outcast.

you weren’t the athletic type, the really smart type, the loud and extroverted type, you just were there. you existed in a space full of people who desired to be seen. except you. you didn’t want to be seen. you had found peace in your own company at such a young age that any type of feelings that you thought you had for yuji itadori was immediately thrown out the window. you only gained a couple of close friends in your middle school years, and that’s followed into your current high school years.

you’ve found yourself being a little more outgoing as you got older and because of that, you caught the eye of itadori.

“i mean, yeah.” you murmured. “we were, like complete opposites. everyone knew who you were while you probably didn’t even know who i was.” he looked away and scratched his neck. you continued. “exactly. so how in the world did you expect 13-year-old me to come up to you?”

“i’m… not sure.” he chuckled.

“i mean, i’m not mad about it or anything,” you sat up thinking maybe your tone was a little harsh. “because i have you now, right?”

“yeah. it’s just…” he turns toward you. “if i’m being honest i’m out of your league.”

you raised your eyebrow. “how?”

“you’re like really beautiful, first of all. i still can’t fathom the fact that i’m your type sometimes.” your eyes widened in flattery. itadori was vocal about how he felt about you but not as straightforward as he is now.

“you’re super down to earth and a lot more mature than i am. it kinda surprises me when you don’t get weirded out by some of the things i do. i really appreciate you.” he takes both of your hands. “i mean it.”

you’re at a loss for words. itadori’s no stranger to being intimate and serious in moments like this, but it genuinely shocked you when he told you about yourself. maybe it was true to an extent. “i…” your lips curl into a grin. you couldn’t help but grin.

“i appreciate you too yuji.” you both sit and take in the moment. this conversation, even though little words were said it put a lot more things into perspective. maybe even highlighting inner insecurities you subconsciously had and soothing them quite a bit. amid your thoughts, itadori had broken the silence.

“i mean, at the end of the day, who could possibly resist me?”

“moment ruined.”

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[sharpiepenned]

Why did Fitz's Grandfather give him up?

I am rereading Assassin's Apprentice (because I just finished Assassin's Fate last week and can't move on), and something that has been bugging me is, why did Fitz's grandfather give him up? We see in the later books that having a bastard child doesn't seem to be the life ruining prospect I assumed it to be when I first read Assassin's Apprentice. Lots of characters are bastards, especially in the Fitz and the Fool trilogy, and while they may not have happy childhoods, they were still raised by one of their parents (or so they thought). So why was Fitz's mother allowed to raise him for 6 years and only to have him ripped away by her own father? While Chivalry might have known about his son, the crown didn't, so there is no reason to believe it was for political purpose. And his Grandfather says "I've enough to tend to of my own, what with my woman getting on in years, and this one's mother to keep and feed." Wouldn't a strong and growing young boy be the perfect thing an aging Shepard would need to help on his farm? Fitz recalls in later books helping with sheep (Thanks @samw1se for the reminder). If he was already helping his mother, why would his Grandfather suddenly send him away?

I think it is because he discovered Fitz was witted. We see how quickly Fitz bonds with Nosey, I can only imagine as a young boy, he probably latched on to a sheep or sheep dog and due to the hatred of those with the Wit, his grandfather probably felt no choice but to send him away.

This doesn't sound like a man who hated his bastard grandson. This sounds like a man who was afraid and forced to make a choice.

His grandfather's hand trembled. Probably because he was afraid of the Wit but still loved his grandson. We see that Fitz's mother still desperately wanted him. And that later in Assassin's Apprentice she has left Moonseye and come to Buckkeep Town to try and find him.

She was still looking for him years later! Her Keppet! Her Beloved child!

This feels like a big unanswered question, and one that I hope Miss Hobb will cover in a future book about Bee. I hope Bee can learn about Keppet and how he was so loved by his mother!!

[alasarys]

Recommended books for the drivers from BookPeople, Austin, Texas (insta)

Daniel Ricciardo: Friday Night Lights – "... every Friday night from September to December, when the Permian High School Panthers play football, this West Texas town becomes a place where dreams can come true."

Lando Norris: Assassin's Apprentice – "Fitz ... must give up his old ways and embrace a new life of weaponry, scribing, courtly manners; and how to kill a man secretly, as he trains to become a royal assassin."

Alex Albon: My Brilliant Friend – "... a rich, intense and generous-hearted story about two friends ... a touching meditation on the nature of friendship."

Logan Sargeant: Once Upon a Time in Hollywood – "hilarious, delicious, and brutal"

Yuki Tsunoda: A Cook's Tour – "the unpredictable adventures of America's boldest and bravest chef."

Carlos Sainz: Great American Golf Stories – "some of the best classic writings, both fact and realistic fiction, that reflect the rich history, tradition, agony, and ecstasy of one of our most enduring and endearing pastimes."

Oscar Piastri: Iona Iverson's Rules for Commuting – "It turns out that talking to strangers can teach you about the world around you--and even more about yourself."

Lance Stroll: Infinite Jest – "Set in an addicts' halfway house and a tennis academy, and featuring the most endearingly screwed-up family to come along in recent fiction, Infinite Jest explores essential questions about what entertainment is and why it has come to so dominate our lives; about how our desire for entertainment affects our need to connect with other people; and about what the pleasures we choose say about who we are."

Charles Leclerc: Every Good Boy Does Fine – "[Denk] reminds us that we must never stop asking questions about music and its purposes: consolation, an armor against disillusionment, pure pleasure, a diversion, a refuge, and a vehicle for empathy."

Lewis Hamilton: The Boy with a Bird in his Chest – "A heartbreaking yet hopeful novel about the things that make us unique and lovable, The Boy with a Bird in His Chest grapples with the fear, depression, and feelings of isolation that come with believing that we will never be loved, let alone accepted, for who we truly are, and learning to live fully and openly regardless."

Max Verstappen: Atomic Habits – "Atomic Habits will reshape the way you think about progress and success, and give you the tools and strategies you need to transform your habits--whether you are a team looking to win a championship ..."

Zhou Guanyu: A Visible Man – "When Edward Enninful became the first Black editor-in-chief of British Vogue, few in the world of fashion wanted to confront how it failed to represent the world we live in. But Edward, a champion of inclusion throughout his life, rapidly changed that."

Pierre Gasly: Misery – "He's a bestselling novelist who has finally met his biggest fan. Her name is Annie Wilkes and she is more than a rabid reader – she is Paul's nurse, tending his shattered body after an automobile accident. But she is also his captor, keeping him prisoner in her isolated house."

Valtteri Bottas: Foundryside – "To have a chance at surviving ... Sancia will have to marshal unlikely allies ... and undergo her own transformation ..."

Fernando Alonso: The House of the Spirits – "an enthralling saga that spans decades and lives, twining the personal and the political into an epic novel of love, magic, and fate."

Kevin Magnussen: The Daily Dad – "366 Meditations on Parenting, Love, and Raising Great Kids"

Sergio Perez: Bad Feminist – "an inspiring call-to-arms of all the ways we still need to do better"

Building on the excellent work by @vegasgrandprix and @kritischetheologie

[fitzbelovedhangover]

Fitz in the last trilogy, about Beloved, in a (probably incomplete) nutshell:

1/ I misss him so much! I wish he was here. He's the only one who gets me. Why did he abandon me! Is he ok? Is he happy? Does he think about me sometimes? I feel incomplete ant there's a hole in my life and heart! I miss our adventures!

2/ hughhh, life was so much simpler when he was not there! Always, always, battles, and adventures, grrrr! Im pissed at him! No, at Amber actually! She's horrible! (but hot)

3/ Ok we re gonna live happily ever after together i dont care

4/ Maybe not, apparently, but its good, he's gonna raise our daughter and im gonna go die (and live) in my stonewolf

5/ Except its also his, he belongs with me, so what the hell is he waiting for? I always though he would come, i mean he must know how much i love him right? Nighteyes help me ! He belongs with us!

6/... "Beloved".

The end

Bonus : Fool, what were we?🤔

[cynicalclairvoyantcadaver]

COMPARING JUDE DUARTE TO PERCY JACKSON AND SOPHIE FOSTER

So, I've read TFOTA, KOTLC and PJO, and I'm sure many other people have done the same. I've been comparing Jude to Percy and Sophie for a long time, so I wanted to type it out and make an analysis. Here we go now.

One thing I find about Jude is that she's different from both Percy and Sophie in the sense that she's thrust into a hostile world where she had no friends and had to fend for herself pretty early on. Her parents are murdered right in front of her eyes and she's taken to Elfhame, and we know that the TFOTA faeries don't like humans-most of them at least.

And while Sophie is also thrust into an entirely different system, it's friendly to her. Yes, she misses her human family and Amy, but Shannon barely goes into this. Sophie's not harmed or looked down upon (except by a few people, and they're not that relevant.) In fact, she's quite important and gets a lot of help (along with a bunch of trauma, though. Not trying to downplay Sophie's experience).

Percy also discovers the world of demigods, but he doesn't have to leave much behind-the mythological and modern world are heavily intertwined, so actually gains something, which means that he can go on living his life like he used to, except with advantages now (except being hunted by monsters)

Which brings me to my first point-

JUDE HAS NO PROTECTION SYSTEM OR HELP

Sure, she's Madoc's ward, but she's not his actual daughter. But she's a human in Elfhame-and we all know what that means. Those of us who have read the books, at least. Sure, being Madoc's adopted daughter gives her some protection, but it doesn't stop her from being glamoured and traumatized. It doesn't stop her ring finger's tip from being bitten off at 9 years old, by one of Madoc's servants no less, right in his stronghold. It doesn't stop the servants from mentally abusing her by making her feel inferior and telling her that she is lucky to be raised like this. Jude herself says that Tatterfell was probably considering pricking the former with a pin, implying that Tatterfell has done it before, which is still physical abuse. It doesn't prevent her from being drugged and danced around against her will at 11, and it doesn't stop her from being bullied by Cardan and Co.

Now moving onto Percy and Sophie-they had amazing support systems. Percy had Camp Half Blood. He was Poseidon's son, a Big Three Kid, and they're practically worshipped. He had so many friends at camp. He had Chiron and his mom Sally, who was an AMAZING parental figure. And then Percy had Paul. Percy also had Poseidon at times, though the latter rarely showed up-he still helped Percy quite a lot. Percy also had the gods. Artemis and Apollo helped him. Aphrodite helped him. Poseidon helped him. Dionysus helped him. Hestia helped him. Hera guided them through the labyrinth and made Percy's arrow fly perfectly. Hephaestus helps him too. The majority of the Olympian council has helped Percy, and without their help, he'd be nowhere. He also has magic, insane magic powers and he's pretty magically powerful, which Jude is not. She doesn't have any magic-the closest thing she has to it is the geas that makes her immune to glamours, and that Prince Dain placed on her when she asked him to. Percy is basically a Chosen One after all the other Big Three kids (Thalia-huntress, Bianca-dead and Nico-too young) are pushed out.

Sophie also has a great support system. She's got many parental and trusted authority figures-Elwin, Alden, Grady, Edaline and Della. She also has her friend circle-Keefe, Fitz, Biana, Dex, Wylie, Marella, Linh, Tam-which rapidly expands and the support of the Black Swan. AND she has powerful magic and is a chosen one like Percy. Something else that Jude doesn't have.

To summarise this, Percy and Sophie had great support systems that they could lean on and they were helped by others quite a lot (especially Percy) whereas Jude mostly helped herself.

JUDE HAS NO GOOD PARENTAL FIGURES OR FRIENDS

Unlike Percy and Sophie, Jude doesn't have healthy parental figures either. But! you say. But she has Madoc! Madoc is not a healthy parental figure.

Jude loves him in an uncomfortable way, yes. He cares about her, yes. He insisted that she be raised like the Gentry Faeries-that she learn swordplay and strategy, wear beautiful gowns and attend Faerie revels. But he still murdered her parents right in front of her eyes when she was a child. He still ran his sword through her and left her out to bleed. He still abandoned her to die when he felt that she was a hindrance. He loves her, yes, and he would do a lot for her, but he is in no way a healthy parental figure. Oriana is not a parental figure to Jude. She's only Oak's mother. Not Jude's, not Taryn's, not Vivienne's. She is, in fact, normally cold and stand offish with them, though she can be helpful at times. Taryn is Jude's closest 'friend' and we know how many times she betrays Jude during the course of the series (Locke and Madoc). Vivienne is perhaps the healthiest relationship that Jude has (besides the Court of Shadows). She's a good sister who has come through plenty of times for Jude when no one else has, supplying her and Taryn with quick magic whenever necessary…… but even she has her limits. First of all, she doesn't want to stay in Elfhame forever. She understandably hates and doesn't want to live with her parents' murderer, but where else can she live in Elfhame? Even if she could live somewhere else, she doesn't want to, and wants to go back to the Mortal Realm. She stays for Jude and Taryn, then leaves for Heather. She is also somewhat selfish and doesn't listen to Jude either. She doesn't help Jude with politics either-Jude is able to trust Vivienne because the latter stays loyal to Jude, but only for so long till she tires and goes back to the Mortal Realm. And this is where I come to the Court of Shadows. Honestly, they're one of my favorite parts of TFOTA. Their relationship with Jude is amazing-BUT, hear me out. I'm talking about Jude for the whole decade that she lived in Elfhame, and she didn't even have the Court of Shadows for a fraction of that time. So yes, they're her best support system, even if The Ghost was under Locke and then Madoc's control for much of the series-and he showed remorse afterwards and apologised. Even if the Bomb tried to kill Jude because the former understandably thought that the latter was trying to kill Cardan-and she showed remorse afterwards and apologized. And there's no time when the Roach actively tries to harm Jude. Yeah, I love these guys' dynamic so much, I'd read a whole book on them. (Honorable mention for Fand here-while she was not Jude's friend, she was friendly with her and was Jude's first personal guard as Queen).

To summarise this paragraph, Jude didn't have a good support system her whole 10 years-Madoc's protection didn't always protect her, Taryn is self-explanatory and Vivienne could be selfish and had her limits as well. Except at the very end when Jude joined the Court of Shadows.

PERCY AND SOPHIE WERE CHOSEN ONES

Percy and Sophie were also 'Chosen Ones'. Percy was the prophecy kid, the Savior of Olympus, and Sophie is the Black Swan's weapon. Jude is not a Chosen One-being a mortal in Faerie, she's quite the opposite. She's simultaneously at a high rung of a ladder due to being Madoc's ward and at a low rung, due to being a human among faeries. She never had any magical powers and was at a severe disadvantage due to this for most of her time in Elfhame until Dain gave her the geas.

To summarise this paragraph-Percy and Sophie were magically powerful 'chosen ones', something Jude was most definitely not-in fact, she was the opposite until she got Dain's geas.

Percy and Sophie were already at the top of the ladder-they only had to climb a few rungs, while Jude was quite lower than they were, though not at the very bottom, and she had to climb a whole lot more than they did.

These facts make Jude a more compelling protagonist than Percy or Sophie to some people.

TO CONCLUDE Now, I'm not trying to bash Percy or Sophie here-Jude had 10 years in Elfhame while Sophie barely has 3 years in the Lost Cities and Percy only has 2-3 years of training his powers. There's a difference between the appeal of Jude versus Percy and Sophie-the first one's appeal is a powerless person rising to power and the second appeal is being a powerful person, an important chosen one, and having people admire and look up to you. Both can appeal to different people and the same people. But protagonists like Jude have an appeal that protagonists like Percy and Sophie can never have.

I think Jude is somewhat like Luke-ruthless and willing to do anything to ensure her loved ones' safety, including killing. She also rebels against the system like Luke and changes part of it by breaking the mold to fit herself in there. I'm not sure whom she's like from KOTLC, but if I had to pick a person, I'd pick either Forkle or Fintan-ruthless, morally grey, willing to do a lot to break the system and get accepted.

Though she is WAYYYYYYY morally better than them-a lighter shade of gray, if you will. She would never kidnap and torture a bunch of children for information and she'd never leave them to find their own way home when the chances are quite low.

I also think, that if the circumstances mandated it, Percy could be as ruthless as Jude if required. I'm not quite sure about Sophie, due to the whole elf guilt mental break thing, but I think that she could also be ruthless like Jude if she can convince herself that it's for the greater good and her loved ones.

Whew, this might be my masterpiece post. Well, if you have any counter arguments, then feel free to post them. I might edit this, so don't be surprised if it changes.

@the-way-astray I know you've read both KOTLC, PJO and TFOTA, so here you go. In return for your amazing Keefe Sencen analysis, this is my somewhat meagre gift to you :)

@roseadleyn, I know you like Jude a lot and you've read PJO too-I'm not sure if you've read KOTLC, though

@madockisser, I read your cruel prince posts and really liked your analyses, so I want to tag you here-if you want me to remove it, please say so

@imaginelovewrite, obviously. I hope you like this!

@rosabell14, ok, so I don't know if you've ever read TFOTA or KOTLC, but I thought you might like this analysis. Feel free to tell me to remove you if you want

Not sure who else to tag-feel free to tag people if you reblog this!

[floradelisstuff]

Burrich in the stables. Created in Photoshop by layering and retouching and brushing and filtering. I tinkered with it and tinkered with it and then some more. I guess, it's time to leave it be.

[everliving-everblaze]

So, I know that most of us would agree that Fitz isn't actually "overrated" because a lot of the fandom dislikes him. But I always find the perception that he's overrated interesting because it plays so much into his character. His entire character is about chasing perfection, about trying to be the perfect elf.

But more than that, I think it's wild to call him overrated when so few people actually understand his character and how critical it is to the story.

Fitz's character is about privilege. It's about being raised to believe in systems, and it's about how systems of oppression hurt even those who are most privileged. He thinks that he can have control; he was told that he would have control. And he's angry because he's realized that he doesn't have control, that society isn't the way he was told it was, and that the way it is is bad.

In fact, all of the characters play a role in the story that relates to privilege and being a part of a corrupt society. Marella plays a victim of ability-related oppression; Sophie plays someone who was born outside the system and can see its flaws more clearly; Tam and Linh play victims of twin-related oppression and show how parents' bias is particularly harmful. Keefe and Fitz are especially interesting because they play complementary characters. They show how two different people could be born privileged, benefiting extremely from systems, and still be victims of it. Keefe is a victim because he doesn't want to participate in it, and Fitz is a victim because he falls for the system and has to unlearn his whole bad belief system.

Fitz's character is akin to every one of us who grew up believing we lived in a good world and then realized we didn't. Fitz is those of us who realized that we didn't have the control we thought we did, those of us who had to unlearn our biases, and those of us who were mad about that.

It's wild just how twisted around his character gets, when I think he should be one of the most relatable characters to Gen Z! Like, I know this is a whole lot of theming and allegory and symbolism packed into a series that jokes about butts, but that's part of the brilliance. KotLC takes these complex concepts about society and oppression and brings them into a story that an eight-year-old can understand. And I think that's a big reason so many of us are attached to the series despite our age—it's so much deeper than it looks on the surface level. There's always something more to uncover.

I love this series. I love Fitz. And I really think that dismissing his character as "the worse love interest" (same with Keefe's character!) means that you will never understand the series in the slightest.

[ahoyimlosingmymind]

i have compassion for Fitz Vacker in the same way I have compassion for Child stars in Hollywood.

He is perceived as a living dream, while he exists in a nightmare that people have so little understanding and empathy for. There's a level to him that is fundamentally unrelatable to most. He has no perceived lacking. At least, not when you're taking in the situation at face-value.

And this^ way of seeing him is fundamentally isolating. It strips him of depth and realness, and it makes him into an image to ascribe ideas and false perceptions onto. A blank canvas to project all of your worst insecurities . After all, He's not real- it doesn't hurt him, right? In fact, it's trendy among the lower class to dislike him. If you aren't obsessed with him to the point of a parasocial relationship, then you resent him. He cannot struggle or have any issues whatsoever because the perception of what luxury is, is so powerful.

This is reflected in the way Dex saw the Vacker's in books 1 and 2. It's reflected in the fandom's inability to empathize with Fitz is any way shape or form (at least on Pinterest/YouTube/Instagram)

He's socialized more around adults than his peers, because of the idea of giftedness and notoriety. Which just puts him on a higher pedestal, and makes him a larger target to hate among kids his age.

He is known, but he is not known. If anyone pursues him as a friend, it is for the sake of making connections and being popular. It's disingenuous. It's to use him as a stepping stool on a rapid rise to fame. to exploit him for personal gain. His trust issues don't come from nowhere, after all.

He had one friend his entire childhood. and what do you know? It's a kid who is trying so hard to outrun the exploitation of his dad's dreams and wishes for him.

Sure, Fitz's parents are present in his life, but they can only mitigate so much of the outside world before it starts seeping right through the walls of their home.

I just think it would be so strange to have so many people barely know you and either obsess over you to the point that you are more fantasy than reality, or resent you so much that you can't say a word without hearing some snide comment in response. And to know that NONE of it is real. None of these people know you.

Fitz's family obviously represents a really big issue in society. Because Dex, Sophie etc... they are RIGHT, that the standards of their world aren't fair. They are right to call it out. They are right to have anger towards the 'upper class' who does nothing to help the lower class. It's understandable. and it's far more relatable than Fitz's situation. but the thing is, shame is shame. and scorn is scorn.

the upper class may whisper. But the lower class does too.

and that's just it. Therein lies the issue with the lost cities.

IT"S NO ONES CHOICE. It was not Dex's choice to born into a bad match marriage, it was not Keslar and Juline's choice to be born in a world where a system like mathmaking even exists. It wasn't their choice to have triplets. But it also wasn't their choice to raise them in a society that hates them.

But no more was it Fitz's choice to be born a Vacker. No more was it his choice that his parents happened to be a good match. It's not his choice to be born into a society where that stuff matters. He's a kid.

But because he represents something at face value that people tend to hate, he is undeserving of compassion when compared to a character like Dex. Fitz is dismissed and disliked because he represents something about their society, even though he's a child who has no real way to combat what generations older than him have enforced.

He is the vessel that is easy to target and to hate, because people need to find someone to blame. Even if that person technically has not contributed in any way to the thing that the people wish to destroy.

and it can only cause resentment to build between the two classes.

Idk man the perception of Fitz Vacker will forever have my head spinning.

[oliversrarebooks]

Fitz's Volunteer Part One: The Act

In which a vaudeville fan volunteers for Phantom Fitz's show, ready to play along with some fake hypnosis tricks. Because magic isn't real. Right?

Masterlist

November 1923

TW: mind control, hypnotic induction, mild humiliation, extremely self indulgent

You've always loved going to the vaudevillle. The songs and sketches, the dancers and acrobats, the comedians and the dramatic actors. It's such a good way to take your mind off your troubles -- of which you unfortunately have many -- for just a few hours and relax.

"...and that was the Astounding Flying Lloyd sisters! Give 'em a hand, folks!" said the announcer. "Up next is the mysterious and charming magician and mesmerist Phantom Fitz!"

You've seen this act before, and it was fun and very interesting. He calls up a volunteer from the audience and hypnotizes them into assisting his routine, teasing them and giving them mildly embarrassing bits of business to do. You know it's either a plant or someone told to play along, of course -- you're no gullible rube who believes in magic.

Still, it seems like it must be fun to be led around the stage, pretending to be in a hypnotic trance. It doesn't hurt that he's easy to look at, with a slightly wicked smile and a cheeky sparkle in his eye. What's the harm in being a bit of a fan of a vaudeville performer, after all?

"Now, I'm going to need a willing assistant from the audience to demonstrate my mesmeric power on!" he declares with a flourish of his cape. "Who would like to find themselves completely and helplessly under my power? Don't be shy. I promise I don't bite, unless you want me to." He gave a big wink to the audience.

Hands go up all over, and you briefly consider raising yours. But you'd be too shy to actually go up on stage and do those things, if you were even chosen to begin with. Fitz is scanning the crowd, probably looking for his plant.

But then his eyes stop right on you. He smiles.

Does he want you to volunteer? Why you?

You're curious now. Before you can think twice, your hand raises.

His smile gets much bigger. "You, there," he says, pointing. "Don't be shy, you're perfect for this. You're going to be a natural at following my instructions. I can tell." He beckons you forward, and with all eyes on you, you leave your seat and walk up the stairs onto the stage. As soon as you step up, he takes your hand. His own hand is freezing cold, but something about it feels oddly reassuring, putting you at ease, making it easier to block out the presence of the crowd.

"Thank you for volunteering," he says. That wicked grin is even brighter now that you're close to him. "What's your name?"

You tell him.

"That's a lovely name. Shame you won't be needing it for this performance," he says, leaving you wonder what that means. He reaches behind your ear. "Oh, you have something stuck in your ear, hang on." 

He's pretending to pull out colorful scarves, one after another, and you're pretty sure they must be coming out of his sleeves, but his fingers are so fast and nimble that you can't even quite tell when you're this close. "Not to embarrass you, but perhaps you should wash behind your ears better," he says, as a rainbow of scarves pools at your feet. The crowd is laughing.

You're not sure how to react, and before you can really say anything, he's pulled the scarves away and is leading you over to a chair center stage. "And now, if you don't mind having a seat, we can get down to the important business of molding you into the perfect assistant for me."

"All right," you say nervously, not sure what you're supposed to do. You had assumed this was a plant. Are you going to have to play-act being hypnotized? You've never been very good at acting, and you're worried you might spoil the act.

"Now don't you fret," he says, standing behind the chair and placing a soft hand on top of your head. "No one is able to resist my mesmeric powers for long. All you need to do is sit back and relax." He leans in closer, and you assume he's going to whisper instructions. Instead, he says, "Do you mind if I touch you like this? I need to keep your head steady in case you start to doze off."

"...No?" you say, surprised. Does he actually think you're going to fall asleep, that his hypnosis will work in truth?

"Good," he says, and produces a heavy brass pocketwatch, which he dangles in front of your face. It's finely made with a pretty face, and it ticks softly and rhythmically as he swings it back and forth before your eyes. "Now just watch the pretty pocketwatch, dear," he says. "Keep your eyes focused as it swings back and forth, back and forth. Focus on nothing else but the watch and my voice."

Wanting to do your best, you let your eyes follow the watch, and you feel something strange, starting at the top of your head where Fitz is holding his hand. It feels warm. Relaxing. Dizzying. Almost like sinking into a warm bath.

"Yes, that's right, you're doing so well," he encourages. "I knew you'd be so good at this. You're already starting to get sleepy, aren't you? So sleepy and drowsy. That's my mesmeric power starting to work on you, dear."

Of course, you're not actually going to start falling asleep on stage in front of an entire audience just because of a pocketwatch and a few honeyed words...

Of course you're not...

"That's it. Such a good assistant. Every swing of the watch making you sleepier and sleepier. So drowsy. So relaxed, so tired, such heavy eyelids..."

You shake yourself out of the daze you're falling into. What's happening? It has to be your imagination, but you actually do feel sleepy. You can't tear your eyes away from the watch, and it feels like Fitz's commands are sinking deep into your mind. This can't actually be working on you, can it?

"You're just so tired and drowsy, tired and sleepy. Your eyelids are so heavy, drifting shut, like they want to stay closed... getting sleepier and sleepier..." The hand on top of your head gently strokes your hair, and the drowsy daze intensifies, your head drooping forward before you catch yourself. "You're so drowsy that you're starting to fall asleep, dear."

It's hard to think through the haze. You can't see the audience very well past the heavy, swinging watch, but your mind is trying to alert you to the fact that you're being mesmerized in front of an entire crowd. It feels so real, so hard to keep yourself awake.

"You're getting so, so sleepy as I cast my magic spell on you," he says, and even though he's speaking loud enough for the audience to hear, he feels so close, like he's only talking to you. "Wouldn't it be nice to shut down those heavy eyes, to relax completely, and to listen sleepily to my voice speaking to you?"

You feel yourself nod. Yes, yes that sounds so nice. You're so drowsy and relaxed and everything feels so warm and good. It makes you feel especially nice to agree with what he's saying. Falling asleep and listening to Fitz just sounds perfect. But --

But -- !

Wait! You're actually falling asleep. You're actually following his commands. He's actually hypnotizing you. It's no trick, it's no act. He's putting you under his control up on a vaudeville stage, in front of a packed theater. Your cheeks flush, and you regain enough of yourself to flinch away from the pocketwatch. You should regain focus before it's too late and you fall completely under his mesmeric influence.

"Oh, dear," he whispers softly in your ear. "It's not the pocketwatch that's putting you under my spell. And I think it's a bit too late for you to resist."

A deep, irresistible drowsiness crashes through you. Your shoulders slump and your head tips forward as you struggle to keep your impossibly heavy eyes open. It's too late -- too late to resist -- you're being hypnotized --

"Shut your eyes, dear," he says, his hand petting you. "It's time to let your heavy, drowsy eyes shut, and remain shut, just like they want to, to relax and fall asleep and listen to me."

Any fight you had left in you has gone, replaced by a hazy feeling of bliss. Closing your eyes feels far too good to fight. Falling asleep and listening to Fitz's voice sounds so, so nice. Why even bother struggling against it? Why not just fall asleep...? 

"Good, good, you're such a natural at this," he says encouragingly. "Your sleepy little eyes want  to stay closed. They're far too heavy to open again. You might want to try, but if you do, you'll find that you can't. It's like they're glued shut. Can you try for me?"

Your eyebrows furrow as you try to open your eyes. Not only are they heavy, but they feel too relaxed to even respond to your commands. It's impossible.

"You can stop trying now and relax. You're doing so well. Such an ideal hypnotized assistant," he says, and you feel yourself practically glowing with the praise. "Now I'm going to have you imagine you're at the top of a staircase. Can you see it? There are ten stairs, and we're going to walk down each one of them, and with every step, you're going to go deeper asleep and deeper into hypnotic trance. Ten... nine..."

You can't believe how it feels to float in a comfortable cloud of sleep and relaxation, absorbing every word Fitz says. You could happily stay like this forever. 

"Five... your hypnotized mind is so obedient... four... it feels so good and natural to obey..."

You don't even need to stay aware of what's happening -- he tells you it's perfectly fine if you're deeply asleep, that you can still listen so carefully while you doze. He's so encouraging and kind and that hand on top of your head seems to just radiate delicious warmth.

"...and you're going to forget you name, dear. You're so deeply sleepy and hypnotized that you can't even remember your own name. It's hidden away in your mind, in a place where you can't reach, and it feels good to forget and sink more deeply into sleep..."

Mmm, yeah, it feels good to forget. Anything Fitz wants you to do is fine with you.

"...and when I count to three, you're going to open your eyes, slowly, so as not to disturb your relaxation. You're going to open your eyes, but you're going to remain deeply asleep and deeply hypnotized, and you're going to forget the audience and focus only on me. Three... remain deeply asleep... two... relaxed and hypnotized... and one... open your eyes."

Your eyes pop open so easily as if you weren't just in the deepest sleep of your life. Or maybe you still are? There's a fuzzy blur in front of you and you're not quite sure where you are until Fitz gets your attention. 

"How are you doing, my sweet little assistant?"

"Very good," you say, eager to please.

He grins, and you feel like a million bucks. "Can you sing a little song for us, just to prove to the audience that you're back in the land of the living?"

Well, of course you can. You can sing the song that's been trapped in your head ever since you heard it on the radio this afternoon. "Yes, we have no bananas," you sing out. "We have no bananas today!"

"That's perfect, dear," Fitz says, laughing. You hear other laughs in the distance, but they aren't important. "Now I seem to have dropped a penny. Would you mind getting on all fours and picking it up?"

You drop to your knees, carefully looking across the stage floor, but you don't see any sign of a penny.

"Never mind, I've already found it. You're very, very good at following instructions, though. I wonder why that is." He winks, and there's another loud laugh in the distance. 

Fitz offers a hand to pull you up, and you feel so wonderfully lovely as he does. "You've been such an excellent assistant so far, simply perfect," he says, letting you bask in the pleasure. "But I have to apologize, because I seem to have forgotten your name. Could you remind me?"

Of course you --

The word dies in your throat. It's at the tip of your tongue, but for some reason, you can't produce it. What is your name? You want to tell Fitz, but it's a complete blank. How could you forget your own name? Just as you feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, he smiles and cups your face so gently. "Shhh, it's okay. It's okay that you forgot your name. I don't mind at all. You can just relax and not worry about it."

What a relief! Another wave of sleepy, soothing calm washes through you.

"I'm just going to call you dear anyway, is that all right, dear?"

"Yes."

"So agreeable! Folks, you can't just find good help like this. You have to make it yourself." He releases you and steps back. "Now, just to prove what a hypnotized little thing you are, I would like you to do a trust fall. I'm going to stand here, and on the count of three, you're going to feel all your muscles give way, and you're going to fall backwards right into my arms."

"A trust fall...?" you say, a little apprehensive.

"You trust me, and you want to fall for me, don't you?" he says, with a wicked smile in your direction, and despite your overall relaxation, you can feel your heart flip. "Now then. Three... two... one."

It's so easy. On the count, your body just falls backwards entirely on its own, right into his strong, cold arms. He smells like fancy soap and floral cologne and stage makeup. Some part of you wouldn't mind staying pressed up against him longer. But he sets you upright to the sound of cheers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, my assistant is now utterly, helplessly at my command. Isn't that right, dear?"

"Yes, Phantom Fitz," you agree.

"I'm going to have you help me with a few magic tricks. You're such a good assistant that you won't need to think about any of them with your conscious mind. You can just relax and let me direct you, and with every command, you'll feel more deeply asleep and more deeply hypnotized."

You nod drowsily, and let him take you by the shoulders and direct you over to a card table. It feels good to be near him, to listen. He calls up a few more people on stage and you're shuffling and holding cards while he does some tricks you can't quite follow. It's so easy to follow his directions. So easy to focus and listen. 

"Can someone from the audience suggest a pose for my wonderful assistant?" he says. You hear shouts, but you can't take your attention from Fitz. "Oh, that's a good one. Yes, why don't you pose like you're a pretty ballerina?"

You stand on tiptoe and put your arms up in a circle over your head, doing your best to imitate a dancer. He looks you over, appraising you as if you're a statue, adjusting you here and there with a light touch. Finally, he laughs, picks up the line of scarves from the floor, and drapes it around you. "A brilliant work of art, don't you think?" he says to the crowd with a flourish. "This is the kind of statue that you can only see in the finest galleries of Paris, but I've brought it to you right here."

He bows, and then touches your arms so gently. "You can relax now, dear. You've made an excellent statue."

He then has you lay down on a table, his hands pushing your shoulders down gently, and you feel yourself being levitated in midair. There's some kind of platform underneath you and you stay absolutely still just as Fitz ordered. He waves a hoop around your body, and then gently brushes the hair from your face as you lay there, dazed and immobilized.

You look up into his gray-blue eyes. You're so helpless, entirely at his mercy. And that smile makes you feel weak.

You're lowered back onto the table, and he helps you to stand again, your knees feeling wobbly. He holds you up discreetly as he bows to the audience. "Please give a round of applause to my hopelessly mesmerized little helper!" he says, gesturing to you, and you can just see the crowd beyond your lidded eyes as they cheer.

Fitz takes you by the shoulders and is standing oh-so-close. "I'm going to wake you up now so you can go back to your seat, but you're still going to feel drowsy and hypnotized, and you won't quite know why," he whispers, barely audible over the noise of the audience. "Once the show is done, you're going to come find me backstage. You won't remember these commands, but you will act on them. Do you understand, dear?"

You nod. You feel so lovely that you really don't want to be woken up, but you like the idea of getting to see Fitz again. 

"And now you're going to wake up from my mesmeric power when I snap my fingers in one... two... three..."

He snaps his fingers near your ear, and the world snaps back into focus. A whole packed audience of people, men, women, and children, are laughing and cheering for you. You remember the things you did and said, how completely entranced you felt and how powerless you were to resist Fitz's commands. How you couldn't even remember your own name, and how you let him put his hands all over you...

"You feel fine after all of that, don't you?" he says with a smile.

Your momentary humiliation fades, but you're still so woozy, like it's hard to think straight. "Fine. Good, really. Like I've had a really good night's sleep," you say uncertainly.

He leans in to whisper in your ear. "You did an excellent job playing along."

"Playing along?" you can't help but blurt out. He can't possibly think that -- he must know what he did, what he's capable of --

"Here, let me help you off the stage."

You're not sure why, but you let him take your shoulders and guide you to the stairs as if you're a docile little lamb. You're so dazed, nearly tripping over your feet as you stumble back to your seat. 

"What was that like?" says the stranger in the seat next to yours. "It seemed so real. Did he actually have you under?"

You don't really want to admit to a perfect stranger that you were under an actual mesmeric spell. She'd think you're making it up. "No, it was just pretend," you say.

"I figured. You did a good job with it! I don't think I could pretend to do all those things if I were on stage."

You nod. You don't think you could, either, not if you actually were pretending.

Playing along...

You weren't, were you? It felt so real. You can hardly remember most of it, and you genuinely felt that you were in a deep, entranced sleep. You remember that all you wanted to do was agree with Fitz and obey his orders. Wasn't it actual hypnosis? Or are you just so weak-willed that you fell under the fake spell of a two-bit vaudeville performer...

Fitz has picked up his props and gone offstage, and a couple of comedians are doing a bit now. You watch without paying the slightest bit of attention. You're so tired after all of that excitement. So sleepy.

There's something you need to do after the show, but you can't quite remember what it is. You hope that you can remember when the show ends.

Masterlist >> Part Two

Thank you for volunteering for Phantom Fitz's show. Next time, we'll see what happens to our victim volunteer as they go to meet him backstage.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity

[renarines]

bit of a ramble because im rereading farseer again but honestly i read a lot of sad scenes of various books and go "oh, that's sad," and feel myself get a little melancholy for a character i won't see again, or a heroic death or whatever. like i recognise its meant to be a 'sad scene' and it'll give me a pseudo feeling of sadness, but nothing that sticks, because i always have that knowledge that it's just literature.

but genuinely no scene has wriggled under my skin and made me feel such genuine emotion and pain as the beginning of assassin's quest (spoilers ahead), when burrich gives up everything to re-raise a boy who is not his son who is barely even a boy, he's a man, but not even that, and he not only brings him back from the dead but brings him back from every dangerous precipice that followed, trained him like a puppy so that he might see through the eyes of a man again, drank with him, cheered on his recovery, lived haunted by the injuries done to fitz that he couldn't prevent. the man who was his son in every way that mattered, the boy who he could never save just well enough. and when he's picked him up and dusted him off one more time fitz turns on him, fitz spurns every single facet of burrich's life, he turns away from his care and tells him he should have left him in the grave. and burrich has to gather himself. and then he returns to his son and says i have to leave you now, and it is for your own good, and this time i cannot clean your wounds and watch over you and it is not because you hurt me but because you hurt yourself. and then he just Leaves like that. and you know its coming and you just have to watch it, knowing that its for the best but theres no way that can be true and it hurts like a fucking catastrophic bleed oh my GOD i could write for days and days and days about the dynamic between these two. this scene fucking KILLS ME still, i just read it again and again and again and curse robin hobb for ever making me invest in these two because it hurts with more human emotion than any piece of media has ever stirred within me