#oh fitzy....

[medievalthymes]

fitzchivalry farseer - realm of the elderlings / pierre bezukhov - the great comet of 1812 (dust and ashes)

[everywaythatmatters]

Fitz pumpkin!! Happy Halloween friends :)

[baphomimi]

who would you say is your favourite oc?

OOOO hi lovely anon

its hard picking because some are more fun to write & some are more fun to draw haha BUT i think i will always forever have a soft spot for this lil guy <3 <3

ill put further art & explanation under a cut since he has a bit of a nsfw vibe lmfao (especially if ur a freak like me lol)

his name is willow, he used to be an angel but then he betrayed the other angels and got yeeted into hell

god cursed him by giving him an addiction to pain (it feels Good tm) but he cant hurt himself, so he has to rely on other people lol which. is tricky. turns out if u ask ppl to hurt u they will usually just awkwardly sidle away.

btw that is his stinky dog bf ^

he has the ability to alter peoples emotions by dancing so he works at a nightclub and performs to make the audience feel rly positive heightened emotion, like a trip but w no negative side effects lol

thaaaat is p much it haha, i do also like the idea of him being kind of like a weird vigilante serial killer / criminal hunter bc he can pose as a victim get beat tf up and then turn them in haha but. i havent rly explored that avenue bc he refuses to contribute anything positive towards society xx

[mistninja]

Fitz just met the harper and his daughters. Well. I know how this will turn out

[janeways-coffees]

"Were it not disrespectful to say so" proceeds to say so

[borvooven]

THE TERROR WAIDMANNS HEIIL EDIT🚨🚨THE TERROR WAIDMANNS HEIL EDIT🚨🚨THE TERROR WAIDMANNS HEIL EDIT🚨🚨

[hannahssimblr]

Days slink by, a haze of heat, blank, blue skies, the lazy buzz of insects, the trickle of a fountain. We enjoy the sights, eat the food, take a trip to Pompeii to wander on ancient, cracked stone. Crumbling pillars, sun worn brick, frescoes of decadence, excess, figures draped in togas, languishing about. Through glass enclosures we view plaster casts of Vesuvius victims with solemnity, feeling perhaps self righteous in our thoughtful sobriety while other tourists laugh and take photographs of themselves. 

The sunburn that follows feels almost poetic. At least that’s what Astrid says. Like the pain we feel is only a whisper, a ghost of what those poor people went through. Sometimes she says things like this to me, just, like, on the bus, or something, with such a serious face, and I’m forced to think of Jen. Jenny Smythe, laughing at the sad poetry kids in their thick, ugly shoes, waxing lyrical, interpretations of Plath’s work to the point of extreme awkwardness. What would she think of all this? Of the things I listen to, and in fact, actively indulge, without laughing at all. Without pointing out what may actually be hovering perilously close to the line of ‘honestly, a bit stupid’. “Well, yes, that’s a good point. I would have never thought of that,” I’ll say, and in so doing, allow it to continue. 

Mornings, I’ll wake, normally alone, and make breakfast, sometimes delighting in plucking a fresh orange from the tree outside, digging my thumbs into the flesh, eating it segment by segment in the garden, basking in the view while Astrid swims, or reads, or speaks to someone on the phone, fragments of conversation, Danish, floating through the foyer. Strange sounding language.

It twinges, still, the intimacy thing, like a sprain, as does the conversation we avoided the morning after. I don’t internalise, I compartmentalise, make a choice to not think about what it means; a young couple, five months in love, two gorgeous, fit, sensual bodies, and one, luxuriating in the bath upstairs, while the other masturbates in the shower, dodging the water. The hot, burned skin of his neck. 

Silvio and Suzana, of course, are still a factor of our afternoons and evenings. Trips together, meals, drinks, lounging beachside. Them, tongue kissing, practically dry humping on the sunbeds while Astrid reads a book and applies, methodically, punctually, on the hour, factor 80 sun cream to her tattoos. 

I hate them, actually. Loathe their very existence, there, touching each other, cooing into one another’s faces like infants. Can I do that for you, baby? What do you need, baby? That drink looks so yummy, can I try some? You’re so cute, no you, no you, no you.

There’s an understanding, a fact not lost on me, that I don’t actually hate them. Only their love and their affection. Why should they have it? What have they done to deserve it? Why not me? Et cetera. 

Astrid, when she’s feeing social, is not socialising with me, but Suzana. There by the shore, laughing like that, while I’m stuck with Silvio, trying to talk to me about Formula One racecars or something. Lewis Hamilton? Oh, yeah, I’ve heard of him, I think. Going out with the hot one from the Pussycat Dolls. 

He’ll always throw some comment in about his girlfriend, too. Like, “Look at her there, isn’t she gorgeous?” Like, yes, objectively, I suppose, but why are you asking me? 

Sometimes, for no reason, I’d like to punch him, but I picture it happening like a cartoon, where my fist would go kind of inside his head, turning his face inside out, and it’d take a second or two to pop back, like rubber. The reality would be like punching Fitzy on the rugby pitch in sixth year. When I flung myself at him and pretended it was an accident. “How’s your Chinese girlfriend?” he said. “The lads were saying you smell like fried rice.” I felt his nose crunch under my knuckles. It was weird. Blood on his face, up my arm, and when he collapsed onto the pitch with a groan, the exhalation sprayed a fountain of blood up my jersey. A gruesome victory. 

If I did that to Silvio, for what? Not being racist, for annoying me. How would that look? An intrusive image comes, him, clutching his face, blood pouring between his fingers while everyone screams: There’s a violent maniac on the beach! Like, no. I’m just a nineteen-year-old boy on holidays, and I’m very bored. 

Imagine the financial implications. The teeth alone. Teeth. I squint my eyes as he talks to me. It’s actually more like one tooth. One huge, horseshoe shaped tooth wedged into his gums. Uncanny. Ringing my dad, like, hey, I broke someone’s veneer. Singular. No, no, not the normal ones, but, like, one huge grotesque slab, the ones they put in animatronics. Do you have those in stock at the clinic? 

Late evening, one night after saying goodbye at another bar, we take the seafront route back to the villa. We can see it from here, lights in the windows yawning from the mountainside, Astrid’s heeled sandals clacking on the pavement. She’s going on about Sorrento. Why did we book Sorrento, anyway? An extra thousand euros for two nights, all because Elias said to her it was nice. Two extra nights spent being acutely miserable, when I could have done it for free in Berlin. Maybe she will invite Silvio and Suzana, too, as a fun joke. Ha ha, Jude, you thought you saw the last of them, but here they are! In Sorrento this time! 

These thoughts carry guilt. She walks ahead of me now, in a short dress that makes her body look sensational and the cruelty of life seem monumental. She’ll break up with me, probably, after all this, when she has squeezed the last she can from me. Used my money, sucked out my dignity. I flinch outwardly at that. Its viciousness shudders down my arms and out of my fingertips. This is the kind of thought to be ashamed of. An ugly thing. I never saw myself like them, those boys you’d get stuck with at school, their contempt for girls who didn’t like them. Stupid bitch, they’d say. She’s rotten anyway. Wouldn’t touch her if she begged.

Ugh. 

“Astrid.”

She stops, turns. The expression of surprise suits her face, makes her lovely. I move to kiss her.

Slippery satin under my hands, the silk of her hair over my arm. She’s warm and real. Lips soft and inviting.

“No, come on,” she’s saying. “Let’s just go back to the villa. I want to finish my book.”

“Astrid.”

“What?” Already, she’s leaving. 

“Come back.”

“Why?”

“Tell me what’s going on.”

She stops. “There’s nothing.”

“There is. You hardly let me touch you anymore.”

“Oh, Jude, please. We are in public.”

I look around us, vacant, cobbled streets. Cafes and shops shuttered. The perfect silence of night. “Sorry, what? You didn’t want to kiss me in front of all these people?” 

A sound. Short, dismissive, and indignation surges.

“Why do you do that? You just brush me off and act like I’m a burden.”

“Oh, stop. Honestly.”

“Like that. See? You just did it.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did. You make me feel like I’m not worth speaking to.”

She huffs and stomps toward me, her arms crossed over herself. “Come, please. We can talk back in the villa.”

“We won’t. You won’t talk to me there. I know you’re just going to read in the bath for two hours until you think I’m asleep, and then creep into bed when you know I won’t pull the moves on you”

“So, you want to do this here?” She tosses her hands. “Standing in the street.”

“Please.”

“You’ve done this on purpose,” she says. “You kissed me here because you wanted to start an argument.”

“That’s bullshit,” I say, though maybe that is what I did. “It doesn’t matter anyway, does it? Here we are. I just want you to talk to me.”

“About what?”

“Preferably about what’s gone wrong, or what I’ve done to put you so drastically off me.”

She scoffs. 

“We haven’t had sex in weeks.”

“Is that the only thing you think about?”

“Well, it’s not, actually, believe it or not, but it’s been on my mind pretty regularly, seeing as recently I’m not doing it at all. Out of nowhere, too, like you switched off the fucking tap.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“You’re so cold,” I cry, surprised by a swell of emotion. “I hate this, how I’m trying to talk to you and you stand there like that, like a robot or something. It’s like you’re punishing me. You won’t even tell me what I’ve done. Can you imagine how that feels?”

She hesitates, eyes flicking to the ground. “No,” she says. 

“Well, tell me so I can be sorry for it.”

“Well, I don’t know.”

“You don’t.”

“No,” her eyes flicker to mine, an unexpected uncertainty in them. “No. I really don’t know.”

Along the shore, the waves hiss through pebbles. The clunk of wooden shutters somewhere, drawing in over a window. 

“I’m confused too,” she says. “I don’t know why I feel this way, and I wish I didn’t.”

“Because you don’t fancy me anymore.”

Lips open, close, and her hand comes to her neck, blotchy, I see. Pink, abstract blobs like the ghosts of bruising. Like months ago now, when I bit her there. Haven't done that for a while now, as it involves being close. Access to her neck. “It’s normal for a relationship to have periods like this.”

“It’s never been like this for me.”

“Never?”

“No, I–” I sigh. The past: Never asked about, never offered. “My last girlfriend, you know, from school. We were constantly at it. It wasn’t a good relationship, in so much as we fought all the time. She was a bit volatile in her own way, but in… you know, the sex department, things were good. I liked it with her.”

“How long were you together?”

“About eleven months.”

She nods. “Maybe it’s different for me.”

“Well, what about you, then, and your, um, your other boyfriends?”

Her eyes flash in the moonlight. “I’ve never been with another man for as long as I’ve been with you.”

“What?”

“No, never. This is the longest. The steadiest thing I’ve had. I met you and I thought you were so cute; that maybe my life would be calmer with such a nice person.”

I blurt it: “But you were engaged.”

“Excuse me?”

“Last year, you went to Paris with a man. He asked you to marry him.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just know. Someone told me months ago. Everyone knows.”

She stares, a light wind rippling across the hem of her dress. “Alright, well, it was meaningless. I said yes for fun. I didn't intend to actually marry him. It was like a play, and we were the actors. I hardly knew him at all. It was a thrill, and he was exciting for a while.”

“And me,” I say, foolish. “Am I exciting?”

She says nothing. A wrenching feeling in my chest.

“How was your sex life with him?”

“Don’t ask questions like that.”

“Well, there’s my answer then, isn’t it?”

“Jude, I–”

“What did he do for you I don’t? I do everything you say, I swear. At this point, I barely think about myself. I’m just,” I clench my fist, wanting to tear the front of my hair. “I’m just trying to make you happy, and it seems like the more I try, the further away I push you. That’s so confusing to me.”

“You are just… I do love you. Okay? You’re a kind person.”

“What do I have to do? Do I have to put you on the back of a motorcycle and whisk you away to Paris? How about Vegas? Would that be your taste? Lose all my money in a casino and marry you in a little Elvis chapel? Does that make you horny?”

“No, obviously not. That's tacky.”

“Then tell me what.”

“You’re…” exasperated. “You’re so nice. I know, and I’m thankful. You always do what I want you to do, but… I want you to do something else.”

Sharply. “What?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I don’t want to have to tell you.”

“I don’t get you at all, Astrid, to be honest.”

“You should just do whatever you like to me.”

“I already do. What I like is making you happy.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “It’s…”

Frustration is fading into numbness as she trails off. “Am I getting this? You want me to do what you ask, but at the same time, you don’t. Now you want me to do whatever I like with you, but not if that involves doing what you ask.”

“Yes, I think so.”

“You think I should want something else?”

“Maybe.”

“Tell me.”

She’s struggling, eyes darting around, settling on nothing. “Well, what about the things men say to each other, or think on their own, but would never ask a woman to do? Isn’t it what you all secretly desire? To take a beautiful woman and disrespect her?”

“Ah, so you expect me to hit you across the face or something.”

It’s an outrageous thing to say to her, and my voice sounds loud, bellowing it through the streets in indignation. I imagine people inside their houses, the windows cracked, and listening. “He wants to hit her,” they’re whispering. “A crazed man. Someone help that poor girl.” 

“If you ever thought it would turn you on, I’d like to think you’d hold me down and do it.”

In the stunned silence that follows, she doesn’t waver. I reel back, abhorred.

“Have other guys done that to you?”

“Sometimes.”

Actual repulsion, then. A wave, like I might throw up over the pier. “Well, that makes me feel fucking sick, then.”

“You think I’m sick.”

“No, those guys are. They’re scum.”

“Fine, then pick something else.”

“Something else? Something worse than that, is it?”

“Anything you’ve ever wanted.”

My head buzzes, the sound of my own breath in my ears. Of course, I’ve had fantasies, things I’d like, but never admitted to. What about the things in my head when I’m having sex? The words that make me certain biblical hell is not real, for if it were, God would cast me down there for the crime of thinking them. Impure. Does she want me to say them out loud to her? But doesn’t it turn me on a bit, the imagined freedom of speaking them? The whole dirty dialogue, out loud, like, yes, this is what I think of you. This is how you look to me when I have you like that. This is what I’m doing to you. Tell me you like me doing it, and so on. It’s theoretically possible to say those things, but looking her in the eye and doing it...

“I’m only nineteen,” I say, my voice tearing. “Can you not just let me be nineteen for a while and have sex normally? You’ve clearly done all of this extreme stuff, and it freaks me out, to be honest. I can’t live up to that. Maybe we can work up to it, but this feels too sudden. Like, it’s jarring me. You assume I have all these secret fantasies about you and I’m holding back, but I’m not. I just love you, and I think you’re beautiful and I want to kiss and make love to you and talk afterwards in bed. That’s basically all.”

I don’t know how to read that look on her face, but there’s a feeling in my chest. A piece bored out of it, leaving behind something hollow. 

“Well,” she says, chin high. “That’s okay, then.”

“Is it okay?” I feel it is not okay, in fact, at all, but she’s already turning her back. “Astrid?”

“We should go back to the villa. My feet are hurting.”

A long, dreadful silence. “Alright,” and a finality in that.

We don’t walk together, but ten feet apart. Her ahead, the sound of her shoes, the moon rising, becoming full. The beauty of Amalfi, hills, sea, warmth in the air. I try to hold this; The way it feels, while I remember how it felt before. It wasn’t this way. Never had to be. Here I am wondering, in misery, if this is it. Adulthood. My parents, her parents, me and her. My life, a thousand times this, over and over again.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[fiendforbyler]

wait y’all i just realised something that is probably niche as fuck but anyway! if you know/have read the Keeper of the Lost Cities series in it’s entirety you will understand the relationship/love triangle between sophie, fitz and keefe. from the beginning fitz is set up at sophie’s love interest, even as young kids (i believe she is 12 in the first book? and he is maybe a year older? not 100% it’s been a while). she crushed on him for majority of the series and finally in book 7/8 they get together with a seemingly very romantic gesture from fitz, with many hints during the series that fitz liked her back. point is: we were all rooting for them. it is imprtant to note that it’s also always been hinted at but later in the series confirmed that keefe has major feelings for sophie as well. for me, this is representative of mike/el/will love triangle, with sophie being mike, keefe being will, and fitz being el. now, i don’t really like fitz but i LOVE el so yeah this isn’t a flawless comparison but ANYWAY back to my main point!! keefe (will) is so likeable with a tragic backstory, troubling plot line, has a lot of trauma AND a sorry crush on a girl (boy) who (supposedly) has eyes only for one person since the beginning- something that has been clearly set up and formed into a seemingly sweet relationship readers have been rooting for from the beginning. yeah this is sounding familiar? here’s the problem (or solution for sophkeefe/byler shippers like i): ITS NOT WHAT SOPHIE THOUGHT IT WOULD BE. fitz pressures her into trying to find her bio parents so they could be matched, he is aggressive and possessive over her (not in a good way) and she breaks up with him. during this, i’m pretty sure she begins to crush on keefe as well- keefe in permanent denial she could ever like him back of course- and feels terribly guilty about it, because she still has feeling for fitz. (yeah i told you, not the perfect comparison but you understand what i’m getting at right?) while things with fitz get worse, sophie starts genuinely discovering how she really feels about keefe, with lines like “if she was really really honest- and really really brave- she had to admit that the idea of being with keefe sounded… kind of amazing. Yes, it was scary. and yes there were risks. but wouldn’t it be worth trying?” wouldn’t it be worth trying? ladies and gents, we just discovered mikes inner monologue!!! scary, risky, but worth it? its what will is to him! mike has always been “too insecure to let (him)self see what’s right in front of (him)” (a line taken from the book!!!!!!) will is in front of him. he is being so distracted by his internalised homophobia that he has NOOO idea what he is missing!! “‘SERIOUSLY, STOP!’ she told herself again…/ adding those kind of feelings to a friendship pretty much ruined everything. ( talking about fitz)”

and it’s all oh so familiar…

BUT WAIT! THERES MORE! finally, FINALLY, during our long awaited kiss scene, she says this:

“some tiny part of her head had always wondered if kissing keefe could really be as great as everyone claimed. but kissing keefe was so. much. better.”

yeah. and then blah blah they get interrupted by who? of yes of course fitzy the ex boyfriend is here. and he says what when he finds out? OH YEAH. “you kissed him? you didn’t even kiss me!”

THAT SOUNDS A LOT LIKE “you never say it/i say it” AND “i didn’t say it/you didn’t have to” or pretty much the same way mike acts around will vs el.

you know what else? mikes inability to say i love you to el (hasn’t kissed fitz) but so clearly communicate it to will (kissing keefe)

if you haven’t read all this (and i don’t blame you!!) just read this next paragraph!

but back to my main MAIN point. sophitz was the ship EVERYONE (except maybe a select few) wanted right up until they got together!! it was perfect on paper, cute, with history and seemingly ‘connected’ character (as per the plot), and as soon as they got together, everything fell apart, as well as sophie closing herself off and beginning to lose fitz even before the downfall of their relationship due to her suppressed feelings about keefe. (cough cough MIKE) they need to break up for her to realise keefe was the better match all along. keefe, who never thought he as a chance. keefe, who loved her from the start. KEEFE, WHO LET HIS BEST FRIEND HAVE HER IF IT MEANT HAPPINESS TO THEM.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? please tell me i’m not crazy!! thank you for reading this it took me a long time to write but it also felt great to write this out even if no one reads this. hail to byler and a reminder we are one day closer to seeing them on screen. have a great day/night!

[ellena-asg]

I've just seen a blog with prompt/tropes list and there's that one: "I've always hated your kind but I just can't hate you" and it kills me because imho it's so much Jack about James. All the time.

Sins of the father (my beloved). Gosh, in this book Jack is not only tired of his father's but also of other people's bullshit and existence. And these people are aristocracy. Jack there is literally like "hate you all aristocrats", he even says to them that they're the worst. That they're bad not only to pirate world BUT also to each other. The way he sees them... like they're a nest of vipers. And big hypocrites. The real criminals.

And there are two guys he hates the most and both of them happen to be James' family (poor boy): Lawrence Norrington and Fitzy Dalton. That scene when Jack meets them, what he says to them and about them and what he thinks, oh, to say he is disgusted with them is not enough. Jack smashes them with his words. What he does there is #Lawrence and Fitzwilliam character bashing (well, they deserved). The rage and insults he has for them, oh my! He not only attacks them for what they do and for the system they live in, he also hates them for their character (they annoy him, Lawrence's cruel nature annoys him, Lawrence being an abusive father for James annoys him, Fitz not really caring about James annoys him, Lawrence and Fitz being pathetic spoiled pompous people annoy him, Fitz being a liar and traitor annoys him, they are terrible in his eyes, he also sees them as boring and foolish etc - just look at his talk with Fitz).

Yeah, he hates this family so much. BUT. Not James. He is so tired of these people, of their world, of what they do to pirates, he is so bitter and, you know, it's his sacred right to be bitter and to hate them all. But he doesn't hate little James. And he doesn't hate adult James. He doesn't want, he can't. He sees little James and he sees all. This boy is not his enemy. He is enemies' family but he's not enemy of Jack. He's a kid, an innocent one. And a very poor one - a kid living with vipers. Jack looks at this boy and sees himself. They both are there, between their fighting families. Both are their families' victims. Both are abused. Both are forced to live like that, to be kids watching the war (and to be each other's enemies one day). Both deserve to be saved from this. No, he can't hate him. He has only warm feelings for James. Compassion, a very strong one. And he just... believes in James' goodness. He hopes that James can be good, he roots for him. He sees the light.

And the contrast between little James and his family (and other aristocrats), gosh. Them being like dark clouds and him - a little sun (but always covered by them). Them being no good and no hope in Jack's eyes (Jack doesn't even hope they will change, he doesn't trust Fitz anymore and he doesn't want to) vs James forever having Jack's "I'm rooting for you. I'm still rooting for you" (I'm sorry but I think that Jack was serious about it, about believing in James, James choosing goodness and also, I don't think that Jack meant situation with Lizzie, especially that he rooted for his bestie Will in that case). Them being loud, rude and full of themselves vs poor silent and scared James. Them craving for war and James who doesn't want to be there. Doesn't want to watch this. Them being hated and mocked by pirates vs James making pirates (not only Jack but also Gibbs, Teague and probably many others) like "Good heavens, what a poor child".

And holy, Jack thinking about throwing Fitz overboard and being like "he deserves worse", Fitz being in the water and Jack not helping and not caring vs Jack seeing James falling into the sea and being like "Oh no, not this one! Help is coming! *Superman Jack*".

Jack hating Lawrence and not liking Fitz at first (and soon not liking him forever) vs Jack being gentle to James (and about James) at first and also later (cause adult James is still more decent than his family and he's just a fine man). All the time.

Jack being super gentle to James, let's say. What enemy is treated like that? Even when there are moments in the movies Jack is a bit bitter/sarcastic, he is still kind to James. He never insults him. The only time Jack is pissed off? Oh, because James interferes with pirates' rum business 😂 Yeah, two times Jack is like "Don't you see how wrong your decisions are?" but there's no hate, it's just the world being not fair and James still being on the wrong side. But Jack still roots for him. Jack agrees to take him on Pearl. He wants to give him a chance. Give him a lesson too (but it's not hate and not revenge for James' father's or cousin's sins). Jack understands. Jack hopes. Jack forgives. Even when James takes Davy's heart... Usually Jack rants about (or insults) people who mess with him or fights with/kills them. But here Jack is silent, very silent about that.

And when Jack heard that his favourite Norrington chose the right side in the end? His Jamie helped his pirates? I bet Jack was proud and happy for him. And not very surprised. And when he heard his Jamie died? On a damn ship on a damn sea (like Lawrence wanted). Both Lawrence and Fitz outliving James (cause if I remember correctly his shitty father wasn't dead). Oh Jack 😭 (and Jamie 😭).

Jack really looked at James, felt "that one, he can be good, this one I don't wanna hate" and he was so damn right. It kills me 😭😭😭

[epic-kotlc-crossover]

Dangerous

presenting: my favorite vengeance saga song!!!

@thesfromhms @myfairkatiecat @bookwormgirl123 @sombrathedragon @justalunaticfangirl

@ham-cheese-toastie

Fitz stared out into the sea belatedly. Escaping Linh’s island should’ve been exhilarating, freeing, but all he felt was emptiness. Seven more years had been wasted. 

Marella would be twenty. Sophie would’ve moved on, especially after ten years without him reaching out telepathically.

And his brothers—his family for thirteen years—were all dead. “Six hundred deaths under my command.” Fitz squeezed his eyes shut, tears prickling. Because I had one goal in mind.

No fleet. No friends.The raft beneath him swayed slightly in the sea, little flecks or salt flying into his face.

“How will I reach Ithaca?” He’d left Linh because of a god. He’d probably only survived the war because of a god. And the only god near him right now hated his guts and would probably kill Fitz the first chance he got.

Fitz looked up suddenly, scrutinizing the surrounding sea. Poseidon hadn’t shown up at all, which was really… weird. He’d expected the god to be on him the minute he left the shore.

Laughter echoed around him, and Fitz blanched. Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no, not him. Anyone but him.

“All you have to do is not open the bag this time, Fitzy.” Hermes flew in a circle around him, dark eyes scrutinizing. 

“Hermes?” Fitz whispered. Though the god annoyed him, it was refreshing to see a familiar face. 

This sent Hermes into a fit of giggles, his sunglasses slipping precariously down his nose. “Hello, old friend!” Did he—?

Did Hermes save him? Fitz hadn’t realized the god counted him as a friend, but he wasn’t complaining. “Were you the person Linh talked to?” Thank you, thank you, thank you. “Thank you,” Fitz told him, a waver in his voice that he tried desperately to hide. Hermes had probably saved him from spending the rest of his life with a woman who liked him way too much. 

To his surprise, Hermes shook his head,a flash of guilt crossing his face. “No, but someone’s given you one last chance to make it back home!” The god waved his right hand, and a very familiar bag appeared.

Keefe’s face flashed before Fitz’s eyes, and he could feel himself paling. No… “If you make it back home, you’ll be able to wash the blood off your hands, and I know you will.” The god looked solemn for the first time since Fitz had known him.

“If your plan’s so great, then why’d you wait to say it?” Fitz asked. That seemed to shake Hermes out of whatever was going on, and he started laughing. Again.

“It’s a little dangerous, my friend!” Hermes clapped Fitz on the back, making him stumble forward, almost into the water. He looked back up at the god, brushing hair out of his eyes. Really? We’re on a tiny raft.

“You can’t play safe in this situation.” Hermes told him, a grin playing at his lips. “You’ll need a whole…” He gestured toward Fitz. “Mindset change to be able to go through with it.”

I can do it, Fitz thought. 

“You’ll need to put everything on the line, Fitzy.” Sometime when he was talking, Hermes stopped floating and stood in front of him, swaying along with the waves.

Fitz nodded. I’m ready for this. “Alright. I’m in, what do I need to do?” Hermes grinned, and spread his arms out. 

“Follow the north star until you think you’ve gone enough, then keep going. You’ll need to go through uncharted waters, where danger greets you with a smile. And—” Hermes giggled, the wings on his shoes flapping and taking him airborne once again. “It’s going to be dangerous, my friend!” The god wiggled around in the air, spinning in circles around Fitz. 

He blinked. “Are you–? Are you actually dancing?” Hermes laughed, and brought out the wind bag again. The glowing blue designs looked… eerie, and not just because of the memories of–the memories associated with it. 

“We went through so much to get this…” We? Fitz mused. Probably the same person who helped free me. “Remember, you need to keep the bag closed if you want to get home! Letting out the storm inside would ruin your last chance to return to your wife.”

This was a cruel joke. Fitz swallowed, feeling a lump in his throat. Mustering up all his courage, he flashed a cocky grin. “Don’t you know danger is my friend? I’ve trained for this,” he gestured to the wind bag, “for my whole life. I have to get home, I’ll be ruthless and put an end to this foolishness.” 

I have to see Sophie. “Don’t you know that I’m dangerous?” Fitz took the bag from Hermes. The storm inside seemed to fight with him with every movement, trying to get out. “And, Hermes?” The god paused, halfway in the air. “Thank you.” He’d saved his life twice now. 

Hermes laughed. “Don’t thank me, friend. I’m not the one who fought for you.” He gave Fitz a two fingered salute and one last smile before turning around and shooting up into the sky.

Fitz stood there, staring at the sea and wondering if he’d be able to survive this one last obstacle. 

Shaking his head and sighing, Fitz secured the bag to the raft and started rowing.

[medievalthymes]

just finished the first farseer book... oh my god

AND JUST THINK!!!! THIS IS ONLY THE START!!! 15 more books of That™️

fitzy my son… my boy…. so tiny in the first one. book two now though! that one is my favourite out of the farseer trilogy, it truly is a Time. I’m sorry for the pain this series is gonna cause but it’s worth it, trust.

[cyberphuck]

ROYAL ASSASSIN ABRIDGED: PART ONE My friend Razz wants to understand my shitposting about Robin Hobb’s Farseer Trilogy, but they don’t want to actually have to read the books, so I’m summarizing it for them (and you)! When we last left Fitzy-Fitz, it was a really fucking long time ago, sorry, I stopped going to church and learned to chainsmoke (and this book is LONG, I mean it’s LOOOOOOONG, so I kept avoiding getting started on Abridging it, lmao). You can brush up on the frankly insane amount of different characters here at the Royal Assassin Cast of Characters post, or find the links to the rest of the Farseer Trilogy Abridged series here at this link here.

- Fitz awakens one fine October morning in a bed at Jhaampe hospital, where he's been recovering from being poisoned and poisoned and bludgeoned and kicked and drowned. At first he was having eighty seizures a day, but now that it's down to only twenty-five seizures a day, he and Burrich figure it's high time for the two of them to skedaddle before they get snowed in.

  Then, exactly like that scene in Attack on Titan where Eren reaches for a spoon and accidentally turns into a Titan, Fitz drops a spoon and accidentally turns into a seizure. It's a lot less cool. He wakes up hours later back in the same damn hospital bed with Jonqui the King's Sister and now healer sitting beside him.

  "This sucks," he whines.

  "Time heals all wounds, Pull-Out Fail," Jonqui says sagely.

  "Shut the fuck up. I'm fifteen and obviously know a lot more than you about healing, and I've decided I'm never going to get better."

  Burrich strides healthily into the room with a swanky new skunk stripe in his hair where his skull was recently cracked open. "What-ho, Lil Accident, are you ready to go back to Buckkeep?"

  "No. Everybody's gonna make fun of me. You go back without me."

  "So long as you wear that collar," Burrich says solemnly, "I must follow you."

  Fitz touches the black collar with the word DADDY on it in gold letters. "The way you followed my father?"

  "Yes."

  "Was it like, a sex thing?"

  Burrich, who has enough hidden piercings to set off a metal detector at twenty paces, asks, "Are we going back to Buckkeep or what? I'm getting kind of bored sitting here watching you do the Harlem Shake."

  "Also, I heard that Molly's candle shop was foreclosed on and she had to go live with relatives in a town that's about to be raided by Vikings," The Fool says from under the bed.

  "Gosh, I wish I could talk to King Shrewd or the Fool or find out what's happening to Molly," Fitz sighs, then sits up as the room fills with the wavy lines and harp glissando of a dream sequence.

  "Wake up, King Shrewd," the Fool says. He's sitting on a chair, not under the bed or in a hay bale for once, and Fitz finds it extremely disturbing.

  "Fool? What are you doing here?"

  "Oh, King Shrewd and not Fitz, I have to be here because you're sick and old," the Fool fools. "Here, let me fluff your pillows and feed you soup."

  "This is so weird," Shrewd-Fitz says. "I feel like... oh, the Skill line is ringing. What? Vikings are viking Siltbay so late in the fall?"

  "You know, it's creepy when you talk to yourself like that," the Fool mutters.

  But Shitz (Shrewd-Fitz) is already on a Skill video call, watching the Red-Ship Raiders pulling up onto the coast. Vikings run through the town, viking everything in sight. The raiders are wading through blood up to their knees, people are running around headless and on fire, it's awful. The raiders aren't even stealing anything-- they're just wrecking stuff, which anyone who's been to a Raiders game can attest to (go Cowboys).

  "Fool," Shitz says. "You can see the future, right?"

  "This is a weird time to reveal that particular nugget of information, but sure. Let's see... ah, yes. I see a bard who can't fucking read the room trying to find a rhyme for 'dismembered child.' That is not something Jaydee made up, it's a real line from the book."

  "Thank you, Fool, that's extremely fucked up," Shitz says. "Oh wait, who's this on the video call... It's Molly! Oh SHIT, it's Molly and Vikings are going to vike her!"

  But Molly wasn't called Molly Nosebleed as a kid because she's a trembling little violet. A Viking tries to vike her and she stabs him to death, whirls around and shouts "WHO WANTS SOME, MOTHERFUCKERS?!"

  Then a house falls on her.

  "Oh god, oh fuck," Shitz says, panicking. "Fool, use your future vision and tell me if Molly's okay!"

  "A bunch of women died in a bunch of horrible ways," the Fool says. "Do you want me to list them?"

  "No," Shitz says, and so the Fool doesn't spend two pages describing the graphic sexual assault, murder, and maiming of a bunch of townsfolk. Shitz sits back in his bed. "Run off and let Verity know Siltbay is being viked."

  Ever loyal, the Fool cartwheels down the stairs. Then Shitz sighs and says, "Man, being old sucks."

  "Yes it does, so quit your fucking whining about your little seizures and come home," Shrewd says, and ends the Skill call.

  The next morning, Fitz-Fitz packs up his stuff and heads out with Burrich and Hands to make the long boring trip back to Buckkeep.

The return to Buckkeep sucks especially hard because they have to take the 99 instead of the I-5 like last time, and Fitz is getting carsick. Along the way they keep having to stay in incredibly sketch Super 8s, which wouldn't be that bad (free soap and free weird smells!) but Burrich and Hands overhear someone standing out in the hallway talking loudly on their phone about how much King Shrewd fucking sucks.

  "Yeah he keeps raising taxes to 'defend our country' or whatever but Vikings are still viking the beach towns as much as they want," had said the Buckboi in the hallway. "You know who rules, though, Prince Regal!"

  "What towns did Buckboi say were viked?" Fitz asks.

  "A town no one cares about," Hands answers solemnly, "and the one where Molly had a house fall on her."

  After that incident, Burrich decides that they're gonna make the rest of the trip using surface streets and driving through people's yards. "If Regal finds out you're out here, he'll send someone to kill you," Burrich explains. "Verity's definitely not gonna protect you."

  "Is that because he consistently sees me as a tool first and a family member and human being second?"

  "Look," Hands interrupts. "I see Buckkeep-shaped lights in the distance." They ride up to the gates, which are guarded by a kid who was born a thousand years too early to be the squeaky-voiced teen working at the drive-thru. “Halt,” he squeaks. “Who the fuck are you?“

  Burrich scoffs. ”Who the fuck are YOU?“

  ”I asked you first!“

  ”I asked you sec—“

  ”All right, all right, who's holding up the line?“ The last book had a rich and exhausting cast of random extras murmuring in the background, but this one used all of their budget on talking CGI wolves, so they had to fire most of them and give almost all of their lines to Blade, The Guard Captain. His job is to appear at important moments and say things like 'hear, hear!' and 'how big WAS she?' “Holy shit, it's Burrich! Twitter said you and Chivalry's Post Nut Regret were dead!”

  “It's called X now,” Fitz says, emerging dramatically from the shadows.

  “Oh.” Blade says, while four of the other guards die of secondhand embarrassment. “H-hi, Chivalry's Pos... I mean... Fitz. You uh. Did you have a nice trip? Hey, you... did something with your hair, it looks... it looks good!”

  “Prince Regal was going around telling everyone I was dead, wasn't he,” Fitz says flatly.

  “Sometimes I can still hear his voice,“ Regal sighs from somewhere in the castle.

  ”What? No. What?? No! What?! No!“ Blade laughs as six more guards thud to the ground. ”No, of course not! It was just, you know, like, you know. YOU know. You know. I didn't really believe you were dead, I did retweet the link Regal posted but I commented with 'big if true,' so it wasn't really...”

  Fitz smiles. “Ho ho ho, Captain, don't worry your sweet little tits about it. Everyone falls victim to misinformation from time to time, and I accept the apology I assume you were about to provide me. Do carry about your business.”

  Halfway up to the stables, Burrich pulls Fitz aside. “Listen, Lil Accident, we're not at Grandma's house anymore,” he hisses. “You can't talk to people like you matter or Regal's gonna get his panties in a knot about it.”

  “And then he'll choke me,” Fitz agrees.

  “What?”

  “With his knotted up panties.“

  ”I'm also still alive,“ Hands offers after a long silence. ”Fitz, you're too weak and pathetic to wax your own horse, let me do it.“

  ”But...“

  ”Come on, Fitz, let Hands, my new favorite child, take care of the important work.“ Burrich takes Fitz's arm. ”Now go on up to the castle, that collar is making everybody question their sexuality.“

  ”What's a sexuality?“ Fitz asks, just before he's shoved into the castle, screen door banging behind him.

  Inside, Fitz looks around and notices that the place looks cleaner than it had before he'd left on the world's worst road trip. All the beer cans and ash trays have been cleaned up, someone's taken down the band posters and put up tasteful watercolors of succulents, and the 'NICE COCK' that had been scrawled above the toilet has been replaced with 'live laugh love.'

  ”Wrow,“ muses Fitz as he passes a sign on Verity's door that reads 'IF THE WARSHIP'S A-ROCKIN', DON'T COME A-KNOCKIN'. ”I'm kinda gonna miss the crusty sock smell. Good thing my room still reeks like teenaged boy.“

[siennamakeschaos]

i'm a horrible writer but-

keefitz fanfic :)

i kind of hate it tbh but here it is :D (only chapter one, that's as far as i've gotten so far)

under the cuttt

TW: minor swearing <3

Fitz stared at the ceiling of his room, shifting slightly to get into a more comfortable position. He heard footsteps outside of his door and groaned. 

"Biana, I swear to the stars, if you're trying to steal more of my skin care products, I will put a lock on my door." He sat up, surprised to see it was not his beauty-product stealing sister, but instead a grinning Keefe. 

"You know, maybe I'll steal some of those skincare products, Fitzy..."

Fitz rolled his eyes at his best friend's comment, sitting up in his bed. "Hello you too, Keefe. Why are you here? I thought tou and Sophie were doing something..?" He asked, leaning back as he waved Keefe over.

"Oh, you know, just dropping in to make sure my bestie hasn't died on me." Keefe shrugged, falling back onto Fitz's bed. "You sounded pretty sick the other day, y'know."

Fitz remembered talking to Keefe the other day- the conversation... hadn't ended so pleasantly.

"So... Fitzy boy, what've you been up to that made you look like hell?"

"What!? I don't look like hell!"

"Deny it all you want- you've got  huge bags under your eyes and your voice sounds off. You pulled another all-nighter, didn't you?"

"Well, uh... not exactly..."

"What do you mean not exactly?"

"...two allnighters. I only slept for an hour the other day as well..."

"EXCUSE ME!? Fitzy, you HAVE to take better care of yourself! That's stupid- three days, only an hour of sleep."

"I know it's stupid, it's just...I haven't been able to sleep, okay? Can you just drop it?"

"No, no, no, I am NOT dropping this, Fitzy. You couldn't sleep, or wouldn't? Were you up all night thinking about a certain blonde somebody..?"

"What? No! That's- no- no!"

"Not convincing me there, Golden Boy."

"Oh, by all the stars, just drop it, Keefe!"

"You need to get more sleep!"

"You need to stop poking into my business!"

"It's my business if you're harming yourself by not getting enough sleep."

"Keefe- drop it!"

"No, Fitzy, you need more sleep, I'm not going to just drop it. You're going to burn yourself out."

"Shut up! SHUT. UP. I don't need you going on and on about how horrible my sleep schedule is, can you just let me handle things by myself for once!?"

"Fitzy-"

"No. Just...just go, Keefe. Please."

"Okay."

Fitz had been trying to put the memories of the conversation behind, but of course- being his stressed, emotional self- he couldn't. He groaned as he leaned back into his bed, glancing at Keefe. 

"I've gotten sleep since the other day, if that's what you're asking. Only four hours the other night, but last night I got six." Fitz finally said, although Keefe just rolled his eyes.

"Oh, wow, such an amazing sleep schedule!"

"Shut up." Fitz's voice was laced with mild amusement, however. He didn't have the energy to be irritated. "What did you really come here for, Keefe? I doubt you'd abandon your project with Sophie for nothing."

"You really underestimate me, Fitzy...it's disappointing, really!"

"Keefe!"

"Alright, alright." Keefe chuckled. "I came to give you something. Grizel was on edge today, though. She stole what I have for you and looked over it for a full five minutes before letting me in, y'know. I was scared she and Sandor had swapped places." He took an object out of his pocket, offering it to Fitz.

Fitz took a good look at the object, realising what it was. "I asked you if you could look for this...years ago..!" He gasped. It was a small glass locket, with a picture of him and Keefe with their arms around each other's shoulders inside. "I lost it when I was with you over two years ago...how the fuck did you find it!?" 

Keefe chuckled at Fitz's reactions. "There, there, language, Fitzy! I found this just the other day, remember when you made me promise if I found the locket, I'd bring it back to you? Wasn't gonna break that promise, was I?" He grinned. 

Fitz took the locket from Keefe, astonished. He couldn't believe Keefe had been able to find this, after the locket had been lost for two whole years. "I- this is- wow..."

He didn't know why he was reacting so strongly to this, it was just that... Fitz could remember clearly the day Keefe had given him this locket.

"Hey, Fitzy. It's been a whole year, y'know. A whole year since I found you sitting in the cafeteria all alone, trying to work on an assignment."

"I found YOU, remember? I don't know how you weren't caught holding a GULON of all things."

"Well, you know what happened after."

"Oh, I know all right. But what were you saying before?"

"Technically, it's our friendiversary. I think."

"Wait, it is?"

"So I got you a present!"

"It's...a locket. It's beautiful, Keefe!"

"Are you talking about me or the locket, Fitzy?"

"Can this be used to choke somebody?"

"You would never!"

"I have a feeling I just might."

"Aww, I thought I was your bestie, Fitzy! Anyways, where's YOUR gift?"

"Gift? I- uh-'

"Don't worry, Fitzy, I was-"

"Here! Flowers. I know you like daisies, here's a bunch of them!"

"...you just got those from the ground."

"No witnesses."

"Except me."

"You can't be your own witness! HAPPY FRIENDIVERSARY!"

The memory still made Fitz laugh when he thought about it. He and Keefe had been twelve, turning thirteen, then. They had been young and innocent.

"Thank you." Fitz shot Keefe a sincere smile. "I was so upset the day I lost this...my first friendiversary gift..."

Keefe chuckled. "Oh, you getting attached to a locket. Why am I not surprised?"

"Hey, I wasn't attached!" Fitz protested. "It had sentimental value!"

"Oh, yeah, because you were a lonely, sad child back then."

"I wasn't lonely! I had Biana, you know."

"Siblings don't count."

"Oh, come on."

This was how many conversations with Keefe seemed to go- tease, sarcasm, a light joke, an attempt to get Keefe to be serious.... but Fitz couldn't deny that he liked it.

"Sooo...." Keefe had a smirk on his face. This couldn't be good. "Those skincare products...didn't know you used those beauty products..." He grinned. "How often do you use these, dare I ask?"

Fitz groaned again. "You're the worst." He complained. "I- uh... I have a nightly routine.... and a morning routine."

Keefe burst into laughter. "Of course you do. Plus haircare, right? You are the craziest person I've ever met, Fitz Vacker."

Fitz rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, you spend half an hour on your hair each morning! You can't say anything."

Keefe placed a hand over his heart, feigning mock offence. "How dare you accuse me of such felonies, Fitzy!"

"Felonies indeed."

[toffoliravioli]

OH WAIT WE HAVE PROTECTION AND FLAMES ALSO RETAINED SALARY??? FITZY MASTERCLASS

[gala-xyzz]

I HAVE ASSEMBLED A FUCKTON OF SONG LYRICS FOR TITLES AND SHIT HERE YOU ALL GO

at some point i will put all of these songs and more into a playlist :D

"i made a bunch of friends so i could use them as excuses to get drunk" (time of my life by upsahl)

"so ten lives were traded for time… say ten times you looked me in the eyes… held your breath watching them die" (broken by kongos)

"phantoms keep ringing my phone to remind me that i'm still alone" (bad medicine by the upstart crows)

"i don't even care if my soul is gone" (take control of your own life by sven karlsson)

"if i only had your heart i could beat the system… i never really cared for tragic stories, i just liked the endings" (come around by omri)

"i then saw the gates of hell, they were lined with golden amplifiers… they were calling out my name but i could not be found… i was falling though the flames in such a lovely sound" (heart of a dancer by the happy fits)

"why do you feel right when you know it's so wrong?… all you're breaking is drywall… all you feel is what you can't admit" (fight club by fitzy)

"they will sell you a dream for a dollar ninety-nine" (good life by shayfer james)

"the beating of a heart that i hid beneath the floor" (for the departed by shayfer james)

"was it something i said that kept you up in your head?… don't be scared of death, death is scared of you" (monsters by run river north)

"and i'm so scared that all of my worst fears have followed me out here" (american blood by dead poet society)

"you weren't ready to meet the angels" (when you fall by oceanic)

"the city's like a drum ringing in my ear" (my my by magic giant)

"what shall we do with a pretty liar?" (double denim by skylar)

"bleeding hands can make a man… this is birth in reverse, this is sacred" (a good thing by kyle stibbs)

"can you feel my heart, or are you a liar?" (aura by dionysia)

"i didn'y kill my demons to be killed by yours" (bones by the rills)

"a hit of this, a sip of that, a bit of every sin" (pleasure by midnight ambassador)

"save your blessing because heaven ain't a place for me" (seventies by modern alibi)

"there's a reason why you're a one-track mind" (parachute by second thoughts)

"leave me a soul, only by definition, i don't want to feel anything… that money won't bring happiness, but let me ask what does… if i can't have justice i might as well join the unjust" (nunemaker's parable by everybody's worried about owen)

"if you loved us then you'd leave, if you leave you're a liar" (oh my by cxviolet)

"what i need is not what i want" (in a blink by the glass pyramids)

"i could come back and my cold heart still beats… and my heart it keeps getting colder" (dressed in violets by hometown & young)

"i won't cry, i won't wait for you… a hole in the ground or the talk of the town?" (for the wicked by friday pilots club)

"all my life i've been heading for hell… but haven't you heard? hearts turn to dirt" (we have it all by pim stones)

"everything you want in twenty-four hours, but nothing you need" (concrete jungle by au/ra)

"what's the price of perfection? i won't know until i've paid in full" (after me, the flood by bear ghost)

"i'll be your muse, now take what i offer… i am the way and the life in the best-looking truth" (mr rattlebone by matt maeson)

"i heard he'll drink your blood just for the taste… and all the dead are gonna play witness" (dear dictator by saint motel)

"when you always want more there's nothing to gain" (city of angels by em beihold)

[fruitjedi]

So like here’s chapter one of unmatched it’s a Sophie/Keefe and Fitz/Dex fic.

Sophie (1)

Sophie Foster was done with matchmaking. She was done with the council and, most importantly, completely and utterly done with Cassius Sencen.

“Foster” Keefe Sencen said from his position next to his girlfriend in the hall “It’s not that bad”

Sophie groaned “Not that bad?! Your dad’s making you have a winnowing gala and I can’t even be on your match lists cause I’m unmatchable “

“I told you I don’t care about that,” Keefe said softly “Can you just believe I’ll handle this? I don’t care about the council or their match lists” He took both of Sophie’s hands in his “Foster all I care about is you”

Sophie melted “I know it’s just when we did the inquisition Fitz said-”

“I don’t care about what Fitz said and you shouldn’t either it’s clearly eating at you. What Fitz said doesn’t matter”

Sophie nodded “I know. I guess I just fear you’ll dump me for one of those match-list girls because they're more normal and better for your family. Silly I know considering you don’t care about that stuff” Sophie laughed a little

Keefe sighed then shook his head “Why would I want anything else when what I’ve wanted for years is right here”

“Cause my brain is stupid,” Sophie said smiling so hard her cheeks hurt

Keefe smiled at her and leaned in to kiss her. His lips had just met hers when a voice cleared their throat behind them.

Sophie and Keefe whipped their heads around as fast as elfishly possible to see Fitz Vacker standing behind them.

“You know if you want to make out,” Fitz said “Please don’t do it in the middle of the hallway”

Keefe groaned exaggeratedly “Fitzy come onnnn we were just having some fun”

Fitz sighed “It’s still the middle of the hallway Keefe, Also don’t you have class?”

Keefe shrugged “It’s just The Universe no biggie”

Fitz rolled his eyes “Bye Keefe”

Keefe waved at him

Once Fitz was gone Keefe turned to Sophie “Ok I know he’s my best friend but that dude is everywhere”

Sophie nodded “Yeah, My house after school?”

Keefe groaned “Can’t Daddy Dearest wants to talk more about finding me a good match”

“Just tell him you are with me,” Sophie said “It’s that simple”

“I thought you didn’t want to tell people?” Keefe asked confused

“I don’t. But I also want my boyfriend to myself”

“Oh, Foster a little jealous are we?” Keefe teased lovingly

Sophie laughed “Shut up”

A while later at lunch Dex Dizznee was telling Sophie about strategies when she noticed Keefe was glaring at Fitz. She turned to look at Fitz. Fitz was staring. Except he wasn’t staring at her. He was pretending to yes but every time he thought no one was looking he quickly turned his head to Dex instead. Wait. Sophie thought. Does Fitz… Like Dex? She didn’t care that he liked boys but didn’t he? Didn’t his family? Wasn’t being queer basically taboo in the lost cities? Sophie wondered what Fitz thought about this. If he was ok with it. He probably wasn’t. He was probably trying to shove it down so he wouldn’t have to be queer and a bad match.

Sophie transmitted a message to Fitz “You know I will always support you right?”

Fitz’s eyes widened “What are you talking about Sophie?”

“Dex” She transmitted as gently as she could

“Oh, That. Don’t worry about that. I have that under control”

Sophie sighed “Then why are you sneaking glances at him?”

Fitz’z eyes flitted “You see that?”

“My boyfriend is glaring at you. I wanted to see why”

“Oh,” Fitz stared down at his lunch at picked at it “Like I said I have it under control ok? I’m just burying it down so nobody can see it”

“You could always ask him out?” Sophie asked

“I can’t Sophie. My family wouldn’t even look at me” Fitz picked at his food “Besides Dex likes Bee everyone knows that”

Sophie knew for a fact Dex just said he liked Biana and actually had a huge crush on Fitz but that was neither here nor there “You don’t have to tell people. I’m not telling anyone I’m dating Keefe. Besides Fitz?”

“Yeah?”

“Dex might surprise you”