#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.

[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

[beomiracles]

「 PRETTY PRINCESS 」 part II ─ one watch less

SYNOPSIS taking a wrong turn in the 4th dimension Beomgyu finds himself two centuries behind his own with no way back, though meeting a pretty princess like you, does not seem so wrong…?

pairings timetraveler!beomgyu x princess!reader warnings none

#serene adds ✎... u guys have been waiting too long for this one, my apologies ˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ chapter index

← PREVIOUS CHAPTER ┃ NEXT CHAPTER →

It turns out that the gardens were, in fact, huge. Your usual walk would only cover a small portion of the large castle outdoors. To make your way to your balcony was quite the walk. You'd already dismissed the multiple servants offering to accompany you, you didn't exactly feel like having someone hover over you when you were to dig through the bushes under your balcony.

As you made your way through a small clearing, the gravel crunching beneath your feet, a faint call caught your attention. "Your highness!", the man behind you called and you swallowed a groan, already knowing who so desperately longed for your attention, or more so, your hand. Turning around you try your best to put on a warm and welcoming smile, "Mr. Fitz, you've arrived early", the banquet was yet to start for another four hours. The scrawny looking man gave a bow as he took your hand in his, placing a kiss to the back of it. You felt your breakfast making its way back up.

Mr. Fitz was at least fifteen years your senior, and his improper ways of formal etiquette made him quite...unappetising to say the least. His sly comments on the ladies behind’s didn't pass you unnoticed, nor did the way his eyes lingered on your chest a little too long when he bowed to greet you.

You knew that Mr. Fitz was a sleazebag, nonetheless he was still a prince, and he had the right to try and court you to the best of his abilities, which you thought to be quite repulsive. Quickly retreating your hand from his grasp you gave him a small nod of acknowledgement.

"I seem to have caught you in the middle of your noon stroll", he begins and you press your lips into a thin line. "Yes so it seems, I'll be happy to see to your needs once I return from my walk", you smile and continue on walking. To your dismay Mr. Fitz catches up and holds your pace, "nonsense, to leave a lady such as yourself unaccompanied, would be uttermost shameful on my part", he exclaims, placing his hands behind his back, it made him look twice as old, you thought.

As the two of you walk Mr. Fitz takes up the opportunity to show his admiration for the "beautiful gardens", he stops by a small flowerbed and you roll your eyes. "I must say, these lilies are utterly extraordinary”, he nips off a flower and hands it to you, “though no match for her highness’s beauty”. You resist the urge to gag. 

The longer you walk it dawns on you that shaking off your unwanted company would be impossible. Gnawing on your bottom lip nervously you ponder on how to proceed, suddenly Mr. Fitz interrupts your thoughts, “is all well your highness?”. His words send an immediate idea to your head. Releasing your bottom lip from your teeth you sigh, “I’m afraid not..”, you glance around the gardens, “you see, I recently dropped my watch…just here below my balcony”, you say as the two of you approach the bushes climbing their way toward your balcony. 

Mr. Fitz raises his eyebrows in surprise, “I see…shall I have my guards search the area perhaps?” he suggests and you immediately shake your head. You needed this watch, you couldn’t risk it being lost at the hands of…men. “I was actually hoping…that his lordship might…assist me?” you give him a hopeful look as you try and smile. 

The man in front of you clears his throat as he readjusts the tie on his dress shirt, “her highness would like me to do it..? I- certainly I shall help you m’lady, where need I search?” You resist a smirk as you point toward the bushes beneath the balcony, “in there”. Mr. Fitz's expression visibly pales as he eyes the bushes. 

“If it is too much to request of you I certainly understand…” “Nonsense!”, Mr. Fitz exclaims as he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, “needn’t to worry your highness for I shall retrieve your watch”. With those words he dwells into the bushes. Bringing a glove covered hand to your lips, you suppress your laughter, perhaps he was good for something. 

Half an hour passes without much success, apart from Mr. Fitz occasional grunts and whines as the thorns of the bushes cut him, there’s only silence. Fanning your face in a bored manner with a hand fan, you glance toward the large glass doors of your balcony. You wondered what Beomgyu was up to, was he perhaps just as bored as you were? 

You made a mental note to bring him back some more books before you return, should Mr. Fitz not find his watch. Perhaps he could tell you even more stories about the future, it surely did fascinate you. It took a lot for you to admit that you’d grown to enjoy his company.

“Your highness, are you certain that you dropped it somewhere here?” Mr. Fitz whines from somewhere deep in the bushes. “Oh, yes I’m certain! Keep looking I’m sure for it to be there”, you say as you fan your face, a smirk painting your features. 

When nearly an hour has passed Mr. Fitz finally gives up, his face coated in sweat and dirt as he emerges from the bushes. He is quick to excuse himself much to your contentment, perhaps you’d finally manage to scare him off. As you make your way back you stop by the large library to pick up some books for Beomgyu. 

Walking down the aisles you pondered over what kind of literature someone from the future might be interested in. Had he already read the classics? Were they still considered classics in two hundred years? Fingers trailing along the spines of the old books, they stopped over one particular. Its covers were a light blue with gold embroidered text. 

You pulled it out and flipped it over in your hand, “The tales of Time”, a book about time traveling, you scoffed, how fitting. Picking up a few other books as well you made your way back to your chambers. 

As you pushed the doors open Beomgyu jumped from the sofa, “don’t fret, it’s just me”, you say as you close the doors behind you. Beomgyu lets out a short breath and sinks back down on the furniture, “I knew that, of course”, he grins. You remain awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of how to deliver the news of the unfound watch. 

“You ain’t find it right?” Beomgyu says, seemingly unbothered, he probably didn’t expect you to find it either way, it worried you. “No…but I’ll go back out tomorrow, maybe-”, Beomgyu got up from the sofa and quickly reached you with long strides. You swallowed as you glanced up at him, “Don’t bother yourself with it”, he ran a hand through his hair, “there are other ways to get back”. 

Your eyes widened slightly, “there is?”. Beomgyu nodded, “I just uh…don’t really know how, Yeonjun er, mentioned something about a potion”, he said as he scratched the back of his neck. You frown, “a potion?” Beomgyu shrugged as his eyes traveled down toward the books in your arms. 

“Those for me?” he grins as he takes the book from the top of the pile, turning it over in his hands as his eyes scan the cover. “I…yes, I figured you might be bored cooped up in here all day”, you say as you walk over and set the rest of the books down on the small table next to the sofa. 

You take a seat on said sofa and turn your attention back toward Beomgyu. “What kind of potion did he mention?”. Beomgyu sighs as he puts the book down and takes a seat next to you, “I’m not sure…he used a lot of complicated words”, he admits, “potions aren’t really a thing nowadays”. 

He looks over at you, dark eyes seeking yours, your heart skips a beat. “You don’t happen to know about potions?” You shake your head, “no, but I know someone who does…”. Beomgyus' face immediately lightens up, “perfect! then we’ll visit them as soon as possible”, you give him an uncertain look. Chewing on your bottom lip once more, “I… I don’t know, we’re not supposed to go see her”. 

Beomgyu frowns, “why not? she a witch or something?” he grins but immediately stops when you nod. “She is, she’s been banished from our kingdom, it would take us quite a while to get there…more so it would be hard for me to leave the palace walls”, you sigh as you look down at your hands. 

“You mean you can’t leave? Why not?” he asks as he leans closer to you, making your face heat up slightly, had he no sense of proximity? “No…to be frank, I’ve never been outside the palace”, you admit as you meet his intense gaze. Beomgyu frowns almost as if he has a hard time comprehending what you’re admitting to him. “Then we definitely need to get you out”, he concludes. 

You shake your head, “it’s impossible, even if I wanted to..”, Beomgyu cuts you off, “don’t you worry about that princess, you fix us a ride there, and I’ll get you out of the palace”, he grins. His confidence worried you, it would surely get the better of him one day. Yet you nod, “alright, I’ll see what I can do”. 

A quick glance toward the clock has you rising to your feet, “my ladies in waiting will be here soon”. You bite your lip as you hesitate before continuing, “they are to prepare me for the banquet in a few hours, I’m afraid I can’t hold them off this time…” Beomgyu shrugs, “where do I hide?” 

Right, where should he hide? You glanced around the room, the closet would be an immediate no, the ladies would surely open it to rummage through all dresses suitable. The bathroom would also be off limits. A glance toward the balcony had you settle on a decision. “Out there, I’ll pull the curtains across so they won’t see you, the gardens should be empty by now”, you explain and Beomgyu nods along with you. 

“Alright then”, he agrees just as a knock to your door can be heard. Quickly you usher him toward the balcony as you close the doors and draw the curtains closed. “You may enter”, you say and the doors to your bedchamber swing open as your ladies in waiting scurry inside. 

Immediately they frown, “your highness, we ought to let some light into your room, it’s dreadfully dark!”. You shake your head, “no, i’d rather not, it gets so incredibly hot in here with the sun shining in”. Your ladies in waiting don’t seem entirely convinced though they drop the subject and get to work on your attire for the evening. 

After what felt like hours of getting your hair pulled, having different dresses tried on and getting your lips repainted with different shades of red you were finally done. Your ladies in waiting fawned over you, the room was filled with excited chatter and giggles. “You look gorgeous your highness”, one of them exclaimed as she did a final touch up on your lips. You smile and thank them. 

“I’ll be down in a moment”, you say and your ladies in waiting take the hint and excuse themselves, closing the chamber doors behind them. Letting out a breath you walk over to the full sized mirror, getting your first good look at your attire for the night. The long crimson dress reached all the way to the floor, it was sleeveless and framed your chest most pleasantly. Your hair fell in bouncy curls down your shoulders and collarbone. The dark crimson matched the one on your lips perfectly and you found yourself in awe. 

Your heartbeat immediately sped up as you remembered Beomgyu out on the balcony. Walking over, somewhat stiff after sitting down in the same position for so long, you give the glass doors a gentle knock. 

Beomgyu emerges from the balcony, he looks as if he’s about to say something when he freezes in his tracks. A look of surprise washes over him as he takes in the view of you. An awkward silence falls over the two of you and you feel his dark eyes on every part of your body. Beomgyu swipes his tongue over his bottom lips as his gaze finally meets yours, “those ladies of yours surely know what they’re doin, princess”. Your face feels like it’s about to melt off and you shyly advert your gaze. 

“I…thank you”, you clear your throat rather awkwardly, “I thought I would let you know that I will be absent until later this evening, with the banquet and all…”, your hands twist together nervously. You had no idea why you felt so flustered under his stare. 

Beomgyu nods, “you have fun then, your highness”, you roll your eyes, “hardly”. He chuckles, “don’t tell me you’d rather spend time with me?”. You avoid his gaze and you feel your cheeks flush with color, you did want to spend the evening with him rather than the many suitors that awaited you downstairs. 

Noticing your expression Beomgyu sighs, “you look gorgeous”, he hesitantly reaches a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your heart almost stops. “I don’t know jack shit about banques or whatever, but I know you’ll do great, princess”, he gives you a wink as he lets his hand fall to his side. 

“Thank you”, you look up at him, a genuine smile on your face for the first time in what felt like forever. 

The banquet was to be expected, boring and predictable. Seated at the very high end of the room you glance out on the crowd in front of you. The same pieces that you’d been hearing all your life were playing, soft and slow melodies filled the room. Couples filled the dance floor, exquisite dresses swaying as the ladies were spun around by their gentlemen. 

You glance over at the empty seat next to you, the King was nowhere to be seen, that was also to be expected. Your father barely attended any events regarding you, not even a banquet hosted in your honor. A bored sigh leaves you and you lean back in your chair, preparing to withstand another three hours before it would be appropriate to leave. 

You’re quickly interrupted by a young gentleman in front of you, he bows deeply, “your highness”, he straightens back up. “William Harris, your highness”, he introduces himself and you extend your hand for him to kiss. You don’t recognize his last name but you assume he’s a prince of…somewhere. 

“May I have your next dance?”, he asks shyly, a pink blush coating his cheeks. You have little but no other choice than to agree. As you let him guide you to the dancefloor you feel the room’s eyes on you. Shaking it off you take Sir Harris’s hands in yours as the two of you begin to dance. 

Dancing was something you enjoyed, with the right company. Sir Harris wasn’t necessarily bad company, he was just…plain. You had grown accustomed to Beomgyu’s snarky comments and expressive nature. Without even realizing it you’d begun thinking about what it would be like if it were him you were dancing with. Could he even dance? you doubted it, yet you let your imagination run wild. You imagine he would crack plenty of jokes, making you almost misstep from laughter. Though he would be there to catch you again. 

Sir Harris was quiet though, that was good, you were certainly not in the mood to make conversation with anyone at the given moment. You study his eyes, they’re soft and warm, like honey almost. You preferred dark eyes, you told yourself it wasn’t because Beomgyu’s eyes were dark. No you just preferred them in general, you always had, they reminded you of dark chocolate, that’s why you liked them you told yourself. 

As the dance came to an end you looked forward to returning to your seat, but a hand was quick to replace Sir Harris’s. Mr. Fitz gave the younger gentleman an unapologetic look immediately dismissing him before turning his attention to you. “We meet again your highness”, he smiles, showing off a set of crooked teeth. You grimace, “it seems we do”. 

It seemed like having to spend an hour deep in the bushes hadn’t made him back off, more so Mr. Fitz seemed even more eager to win you over as he grasped your hands in his. His grip was almost painful, not to mention that he was a horrible dancer, your toes fell victim to his many missteps. 

“How is the night treating you m’lady?”, he asks as he spins you around. “It’s pleasant”, your voice is monotone but Mr. Fitz doesn’t seem to take note. “Ah, indeed it is, it’s a lovely palace you have here”, he changes the direction in which you dance before adding, “may I inquire about the whereabouts of his highness?”. 

“I can bestow no more information than you already possess, sir”, your expression blank as you speak. Truth to be told, you had no idea of the whereabouts of your father. Mr. Fitz seems slightly displeased with your answer but doesn’t let it show for too long as he continues, “very well, I shall enjoy my time with his beautiful daughter instead”. You wished he didn’t. 

“Pray tell, have you found a suitor that caught your eye yet, your highness?” His question catches you off guard, sure he was straightforward but this was a little extreme even for Mr. Fitz. “Is there a specific reason you’re asking, sir?”, you already know his answer yet you pray and hope to be wrong. 

Mr. Fitz smiles, “don’t be daft, your highness and I both know my intentions”, he gives you yet another spin, you’re beginning to feel dizzy. “I shall like to ask for your hand, as soon as his highness returns that is”, most certainly not, “a marriage that I think will be most beneficial for the both of us, your highness”, he then adds as the dance comes to an end. 

Quickly freeing yourself from his grasp, you give him a bow, “of course your lordship”, you give him a meek smile before making your way back to your chair. Suddenly you wished for your father’s absence more than ever, may he not return for at least ten years you thought. 

It’s not until late evening when you finally make your way back toward your bedchambers. Being a hostess meant seeing to your guests all night as well as seeing them off. It was exhausting to say the least and all you wanted was to get back to your bedchambers and sleep. 

On your way back you realized that Beomgyu hadn’t had anything to eat since late morning and you made a stop by the kitchens, asking for a meal to be brought to your room. Your mind was filled with possible solutions for the next day, you would need to see the witch, but you had yet to come up with a proper plan. As you neared the door to your chambers you were immediately pulled from your thoughts as you felt your heart sink, the doors were open.

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[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?🤔

[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.

[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.

[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

[famousinfamous]

ok that’s it I’ve seen so much Alden slander and Alden defenders and I’m about to pinch the next person who says ‘he’s a good parent’ or ‘he’s a horrible person’ like I swear. Look ok Alden sent not one but two of his children to the forbidden cities alone. It sounds like alvar was old enough that he’d be mostly ok but Fitz? He would stand in the same spot for one to two hours just watching some random girl and while so much of the fandom over exaggerates that making it sound like he’d be there for days or smth it’s still very dangerous especially for someone that young. In fact staying in the same spot is probably worse that moving around because that way no-one can tell if you’re being followed or watched. It’s still very dangerous and it’s a miracle he didn’t get kidnapped or smth. Secondly I think what literally everyone forgets is going to the forbidden cities is illegal, as in if you get caught you’ll probably be banished. And we’ve seen what the council does they’d probably have no qualms about banishing a 7 or 8 year old if they had years of incriminating evidence. What do you think would happen if Alden went to prison and Fitz got banished? Would Alden leave biana to start the search, because he knew how important it was? Would she agree not wanting to disappoint her father? Would she get caught to? Would the entire family be banished? Probably. Know you might be thinking after all that and countless other things that prove Alden is not responsible or even remotely well prepared for the position he’s in(that I will be making posts about by the way) why don’t I hate him? Because honestly, I get it. If you look at the way Alden puts his work before his family (whether that work is council provided or not) and the way he treats and raises his children almost as if he’s their mentor or teacher, rather than their father I think the answer becomes quite clear he doesn’t know how to raise a child or how to look after a family because he never wanted one. But before Fitz he was the golden child of the vacker family and everyone expected him to have kids and start a family and pass on his ‘pure genes’ as elves like to dub them. So he did. And now he has no idea what he’s doing. And I get that. Being shoved into a part you don’t want to play, that you don’t know how to play is so hard and it hurts when you see people getting hurt because of mistakes that you shouldn’t be making because you’re supposed to know what you’re doing but you don’t because people read you wrong and don’t understand that this isn’t what you were made for. And so to some it up: Alden was supposed to be the irresponsible yet cool single uncle who flies around in a private jet and tries to take you to see the titanic but your parents said no so he bought you a Lamborghini instead but society said no fuck you here have some meat sacks and handed him Alvar Fitz and Biana and now he doesn’t know how to un-fuck-them-up because god damn it Alden stop involving your children in illegal activities and treating them like your their your students or smth and everyone else could you stop shaming children for not reaching your ridiculously high expectations!