#fitzphie positivity

[presidentroarie]

Sophie calling Fitz "shawty"

That's it. That's the post.

[glitterdeerswritingblog]

To those who wanted that sneak peak at my progress on my HiredAssassin! Sophie × InsuranceFraudPrince!Fitz, here it is:

The Moonlark crouched behind the edge of the sandstone wall, making sure no one was coming before slipping down the dark corridor.

She referred back to the set of instructions that had been delivered to her via raven the night before—the lines concerning her disguise and entrance earlier that morning crossed off like a checklist—squinting to make out the loopy lettering in the moonlight that filtered in through the barred windows. Another 20 steps, and on her left… There.

As she reached for the handle, she heard footsteps and hastily retreated around the corner before walking around the bend as if she worked here and certainly wasn't infiltrating the palace to assassinate a member of the royal family.

The man—if someone of his age should be called a man—came into view: light brown hair, the color of cinnamon, skin a shade of honeyed bronze, eyes sparklingly teal, broad shoulders inside of a white tunic with a purple and blue embroidered jerkin, his long legs covered in purple pants of silk, and his look completed with a pair of blue studded dress shoes.

The Moonlark swore internally. Of course she ran into Prince Fitzroy Vacker. Her very target.

"My lord," she said in a bashful tone, bowing into a curtsey. "Out to stargaze?"

"Evening, miss," he responded in his royally crisp accent. "I'm simply out to smell the roses."

The Moonlark's brain stalled. How had he just accidentally spoken the code phrase? She stared at him as she replied, "I hope the scent is worth the thorns."

Prince Fitzroy gave her a small smile. "Right this way." He pulled open the door the Moonlark almost entered, letting her in before shutting the door and leading her down the steps of the narrow staircase. At the bottom, he opened another door, this one heavy and oaken, with thick metal hinges and a metal knocker.

He and the Moonlark enter the room, and Fitzroy shuts and locks it behind them. The Moonlark realized it was a wine cellar. The barred window took up the size of the back wall, and the Moonlark could see barrels of alcohol and liquor lined against the sand brick walls.

"Sorry about all of the formalities. I am aware that the pass code was not the greatest, but it was a line from this truly awful book I had been reading and I figured it'd be a funny little thing before I die."

"So, to clarify," the Moonlark said, "You hired me."

"Yes," Prince Fitzroy said.

"To kill you."

"That is correct."

"Okay," she said. "Do you just need someone to talk to?"

"Nope, I'm all good. I don’t really mind, I just need to be dead."

"No offense, but it feels wrong to kill you."

"Because I want you to?"

"Look," she said. "I've been around the marketplace for a while. There's always someone looking to have someone else killed, even royalty. I've seen plenty of hits for your dad, or even a few for your mom out of jealousy, but never have I seen a hit for any of their children. In fact, everyone has always seemed to adore you guys. So I figured when I saw the hit for you—the people's prince and the royals' declared heir—that you were secretly a tyrant. So I came figuring you were going to end up being a dickhead as royals usually are, except… you aren't. You know all of the guards and staffs' names, you ask them how they are and actually listen, you help them out when they need it by having them take breaks and checking if they've eaten or drank, you clean up after yourself so that others don't have to, and you overall treat them like they're human. They all truly love and respect you, even the ones who don't like anyone like grumpy Sir Faxon."

The prince was blushing. "I try my best to make sure they're all safe and happy."

"That's my point. They don't want you dead. No one does. So I'm trying to figure out why you do."

"You know, for an assassin, you seem to care a lot about other people."

"Well, killing someone is undoable. I make sure that my client truly wants the target dead, and not out of a slight or pride. I always give them options for less irreversible revenge. Currently, I want to make sure it isn't out of despondency."

The prince sighed. "I'm not despondent. I will miss my family and my people, but it is for their good." He didn't meet her eyes as he said, "My father is a good king. For the most part, he is fit to rule Eternalia. However, he does have lapses in judgement. Recently, he butted heads with the royal family of Lumenaria. The easiest way to fix the conflict is for my father to apologize and admit he was wrong, but instead he decided my sister should marry one of their brood. Biana has only just turned 19 and I don't want her shoved into a political marriage to fix what she didn't break. When I die, my will gives her all of my money and my life insurance goes to my mother so that Biana can get out and have a normal, happy life."

The Moonlark stared at him until he looked back up to her. "So you mean to tell me you hired an assassin to kill you for insurance fraud in order to protect your sister?"

"Essentially," the prince breathed.

"Well then, why don't we just fake your death?"

Prince Fitzroy blinked at her. "What?"

"Let's fake your death. Honestly I've never killed anyone—"

"I knew it," the prince interjected.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm not an actual assassin. I took the job for the cash because I figured you were a dick. But you have a good heart from what I can tell, and you're trying to sacrifice yourself even though I can practically smell the fear because you're determined to save your sister. I can get behind that. Faking your death means your sister gets away safe and gets your money, and you don't have to die. And bonus, I still get my money at a reduced price, seeing as I don’t have to actually kill you."

"Well, I like not dying," the prince said. "But how does one fake their death?"

The Moonlark gave him a grin. "Now that I do have a lot of experience with. In order for this to work, you have to trust me."

"Okay. But can I bring my horse? I don't want to leave her alone."

"Absolutely." The Moonlark clapped the prince on the shoulder, though she did have to stand on her tiptoes to make the top of her head come to his nose. "Alright, Pretty Boy, if we wanna be out by sunrise, we have to start 20 minutes ago. You have your paper and ink?"

Prince Fitzroy nodded, and the Moonlark said, "Good. I need you to write your letters now. One of them should be a letter addressed to your family saying that you went for an evening stroll and not to worry if they wake up and you aren't at breakfast. To do this right, we're going to make it look like you were eaten by a bear. If that's all you want to say, then that's good enough, but if you want to tell your sister and mother so they aren't too upset, you can write them each notes to explain it, but do your best to use caution and use codes so that someone on the outside won't realize that you're lying to commit insurance fraud, or find out youre alive and try to drag you back."

"Does it have to be that?" Fitz asked.

"Sorry, it's the best I can come up with that doesn't require a witness or removing part of your body for proof. Unless you want to write a note saying that it's all too much and you're committing suicide by jumping off the cliff."

"I'll get eaten by the bear," Prince Fitzroy said with a sigh.

"Alright. In that case, I'll be back in a moment."

The Moonlark navigated her way back to the hall and then to the laundry room. She grabbed two sets of clothing in black, including hoods. She also grabbed a laundered saddle bag and sprinted through the Kitchens, throwing in rations of food and a couple water canteens.

"Put these on," she said, throwing him one of the black outfits once she made it back to the wine cellar. The prince opened his mouth, and the Moonlark said, "I'm not going to watch, but I need the clothes you're wearing right now."

She stared at her feet, and after a few minutes, his old clothes were at her feet. "I am terribly sorry about this, and I really hope these weren't your favorite clothes," the Moonlark said.

"What are you—?" Prince Fitzroy started, but the Moonlark nonchalantly took the knife she'd grabbed and slashed through the clothes. For added effect, she cut a line on her arm and waved her bleeding arm around to stain the cloth.

"You just cut yourself open on our dinner knives," Fitzroy said, rushing over. "Are you alright?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, Your Majesty. I stopped by the Infirmary on the way here and grabbed some medical supplies." Indeed she had, and she pulled out antiseptic fluid and a gauze roll. she quickly stitched it up, taping it on the cut, and said "All better."

"Please don't call me 'Your Majesty' or 'Prince Fitzroy.' It's always made me uncomfortable, and within a few hours I won't be a prince anymore."

"Are you going to change your name then?" the Moonlark asks.

He shrugged.

"You don't have to decide now if you want to," she said gently. "You have a whole new life to live. But in the meantime, we have to go set those letters where they need to be, you need to pack anything you can't live without or you want if you think it won't be noticeable, and then we have to place your clothes somewhere they'll be found but also not somewhere super unusual, and then we grab your horse and hit the road."

Together, they ran back through the darkened palace. They entered his bedchambers, and the Moonlark said, "Alright, I see you have a bag—great—so take your time packing. I know its a lot and that it probably hasn't hit you yet so just… hang in there. Meanwhile, I'm going to get dressed into my own black monstrosity, and I'll be right back."

Fitzroy nodded, and the Moonlark went into his bathroom. When she came back to the main room, Fitzroy was staring at a drawing of himself with his parents, his brother, and his sister. He folded and tucked it into his breast pocket, the tears on his cheeks reflecting the moonlight. He heard her step closer and jumped, quickly wiping at his face.

"All set?" the Moonlark asked him cautiously. He nodded, and she impulsively grabbed his hand and gave it a quick squeeze before letting it drop.

"Letter time," Fitzroy said, his voice slightly hoarse.

They walked across the hall to another bedchamber, and when they opened the door, a young woman was sitting on the edge of the bed. Her hair was a darker brown, and her skin was lighter by a few shades, but she had the same teal eyes as her brother. "I could hear you two next door," Princess Biana said.

"Hey," her brother said, his voice croaky.

"So, what's happening?" The princess asked, looking at the Moonlark. "And who are you?"

The Moonlark bowed. "Princess. Your brother here hired me as an assassin to execute him."

Princess Biana glared at her brother. "You did what?"

Fitzroy looked sheepish. "She's not killing me anymore, she talked me out of it."

The Moonlark explained how she'd arrived that morning and followed the instructions he'd sent to her before meeting him tonight to discuss plans. Biana listened intently as she relayed their earlier conversation and their plans to fake Fitzroy's death.

"So," Princess Biana said, "You tried to look out for me once again by almost getting yourself killed? Most assassins wouldn't have bat an eyelash. You're very lucky you picked a woman, and a smart one at that."

"I've already had this discussion," Fitzroy sighed. "But when you get out of this place, send Alvar's raven. He'll find me, and then I'll find you."

"Of course,' the princess said. "Are you guys prepared to leave? Dawn is coming quickly, the sun will be up within the hour."

"We're all set," Fitzroy said. He hugged his sister. "Be safe, I love you."

"Love you too," she said. "I'll be fine, you two take care of each other. Is there anything else I can do to help?"

"Don't find the clothes," the Moonlark said. "If you do, it'll look suspicious and put some light on you, especially since the will is in your favor. But when you find out he's 'dead,' be genuine and don't overdo it."

The princess nodded solemnly. She gave Fitzroy one last hug and pulled the Moonlark in, whispering "Take care of him," giving her a kiss on the cheek before taking her letter from the prince and shooing them out.

"Where should we put the other letter?" the Moonlark asked.

"My dad's placement at the table," Fitzroy said immediately.

They went back to the dining room, and the prince took a deep breath before putting it down.

"What's next?"

"I think we head toward the stables. We don't have much time."

Fitzroy nodded. "Right this way," he said.

They walked out a secret entrance on the side of the palace and ended up by the forest. Sophie took out his bloody, ripped clothing and tossed them on the ground five feet off the path. She reopened her bandage and squeezed out as much blood as she could, dripping it around the area.

Fitz looked at the pile of clothing, and the Moonlark saw something inside of him break. She caught his arm and eased him sitting onto the path a few feet further away as he breathed sharp breaths.

The Moonlark wrapped her arm around the prince as he took gasping, panicky breaths. Eventually they slowed and evened out, and the Moonlark said, "Do you feel… better now?"

The prince nodded. "Yeah. I just… yeah, sorry."

"Don't be. I know the feeling. I get if you have some second thoughts, but—."

"Not at all," the prince said. "It's just…"

"Surreal," the Moonlark supplied. "A lot to take in."

"Yeah." The prince stood and pulled her up. "I'm ready."

"Alright. To the stables."

The word "stables" seemed an understatement. It was a large building of wood with a tiled floor and roof. The sides had plenty of spaces for the horses to put their heads out during the day, though the porticos were covered in a satiny curtain. There was an abundance of hay, straw, and grass for the horses as well as treats of crab apples. The water troughs were large enough that the Moonlark could bathe in them no problem. There were all sorts of horse equipment as well as some gardening and hunting tools.

"Mind if I take a bow and a quiver for the road?"

She gave him a wide grin. "Neat."

"Sure," Fitzroy said. "Grab a shield while you're at it as a souvenir."

She plucked one off the wall and studied it. "Good timing, too. I used my old one for target practice and hit my last shot too hard. Broke the shield and snapped the bowstring in one go." She put the shield on her arm and slung the bow and quiver around her. "Which horse is yours?"

"Verdi," the prince said.

The Moonlark and the prince stopped outside the horse's enclosure, and she let out a whistle. "She's a beaut," the Moonlark breathed, studying the majestic creature. She was white with cream patches all over her powerful body, her eyes the color of honey.

"I've had her since I started learning to ride when I was fourteen." the prince said. He opened the latch to her gate, and she sauntered out, stopping in front of them. "Where exactly are we going?" he asked.

"I'm assuming you don't have family outside the kingdom, and you need to lay low for a bit, so I'll take you to where I call home, and when you get into the routine of normal life and get on your feet, you can go wherever you want. Sound like a plan?"

"Yep," the prince said.

"Alright, give me one moment," the Moonlark said. She undid her hair from the bun she had it in, pulling it back in a high pony instead. "That's better. I was getting a headache from that bun. You ready, Fitz?"

The prince nodded at her. "After you."

The Moonlark clambered up, quickly followed by Fitzroy.

He leaned forward. "Actually, I like that. Do you mind… calling me Fitz from now on?"

"No problem," she said to him.

"And… if it's not prying?" he asked, leaving the question open.

"What's my name?" The Moonlark supplied. "I'm taking you to my house, with my parents and my siblings, so you may as well know. But trust me, if you ever slip to someone and tell them who I am, I will hunt you down and murder you." She took a breath, turned around on Verdi, and stuck out her hand. "Nice to meet you Fitz, I'm Sophie."

"Nice to meet you too, Sophie," Fitz said with a grin, shaking her hand.

[scribblyautumn]

I finished the sophitz comic:

[presidentroarie]

Hear me Out

I had a thought: Fitz with glasses.

In the Cities everyone's perfect blah blah blah, except that some elves don't have great vision but because of the high standards of their world they wear contact lenses in secret. Well, Fitz and Sophie are talking and he goes "I have a really big secret." Sophie's asks what's up, and Fitz tells her about secretly bad-visioned elves and she's like "Okay?" just very confused and then Fitz just takes a deep breath and blurts "I wear contacts. They aren't colored or anything, if that's something you're worried about, this is how my eyes are, but I can't see close to me and I need contacts or I'm totally blind for the first seven feet in front of me" (I latched onto far-sighted, but he could be near-sighted too if you want.) Sophie's just like "Okay, cool" and Fitz breaks down crying, and when she can finally get him calmed down enough to talk she finds out that while Della and Biana were really supportive and helpful Alden wasn't. Fitz has glasses for in Everglen and outside he had to squint and stuff until he was 10 and could use contacts, and Fitz said they were uncomfortable and he'd rather use glasses but Alden told him he had to get used to them so he didn't have to squint and gave him a weird look when he wore glasses around the house after that. Sophie keeps comforting him and naturally really wants to kill Alden but Fitz tries to justify him like "it's because of the public opinion, he just wants what's best for me' which only makes Sophie want to kill him more for not just manipulating Fitz and Biana growing up and pretty much everyone he talked to but because of the way he treated Fitz and conditioned him that that was okay.

I feel like even if you don't ship Sophitz it's still a cute idea you can use platonically because they are really good friends.

And I feel like it just works so well for their characters, especially Fitz. The Vacker legacy is all special and important, and he's been told his whole life how he has to upkeep that reputation etcetera etcetera but he knows no matter how great he is he's always failing because of his vision. And all the names people call him: Wonderboy, Golden Boy, Captain Perfect, all of it adds up on him because he really isn't perfect as much as he wants to be. He feels wrong and has a sort of imposter syndrome because he's in a family with all these important, perfect people and he'll never meet their standards and he feels so broken and useless and like he's letting his family down. And Sophie would understand that so well because she;s always felt a little broken and like an outsider, and eventually I feel they could help each other see that they're perfect as is and anyone who doesn't like it can kiss their asses.

Consider:

Subtle mentions of Fitz's glasses or contacts. Ex: (Fitz) I can't find my contacts. (Sophie, pushing glasses onto his face gently) Good thing you have these; (Fitz) Shit, I just dropped my contact. Do you think it'd be fine to rinse it really quick and just pop it back in?; A description of Sophie grabbing a book from the bedside table and being careful not to knock his glasses onto the floor.

Fitz and Keefe are really close, so maybe Keefe having known a while and saying something sweet yet teasing that makes them both blush like "It's like I said. You could wear an orange latex suit and she would still like you," and Sophie goes, "I mean, he is right for once."

Or maybe Fitz was scared to tell Keefe because he didn't know how he'd react but Sophie coaxes him into going for it and Keefe says something comforting with the right mix of cafring and joking, maybe followed by a hug because, once again, they. are. best. friends.

Maybe Keefe and Biana play around with his stuff: putting Fitz's glasses and joking about how terrible his vision is, hiding his glasses case on him, etc.

Maybe Dex making him glasses so he can wear them without anyone else knowing so he doesn't have to use the contacts as much.

The first time Sophie sees him with glasses maybe she just stares at him; maybe he catches her, or maybe she catches herself, leading to her blushing hard and looking away. Or maybe she says something about how he looks good or something that makes Fitz blush pleasedly.

Fitz not wearing glasses in the Cities but feeling comfortable enough to wear them when he's out on a date with Sophie in the Forbidden Cities or in other deemably safe places like Edaline and Grady's or the Dizznees' or Slurp and Burp, or simply when he's alone with her.

Fitz getting back the confidence to wear them around Everglen again because as long as he's been wearing them the contacts are uncomfortable to have in all the time and he wants a break from time to time and Della and Biana are so proud of him

High tension between Alden and Sophie at family events. Ex: Sophie having dinner with the Vackers one night after she finds out and she's all passive aggressive with Alden the entire night and being ready to fist-fight him at any point. Maybe she does even punch him.

Frankly, the ideas for this are limitless, but just imagine Fitz; Awkward, dork Fitzroy (because awkward Fitz is real, he literally confessed to Sophie and then had a heart attack) with glasses.

[presidentroarie]

"A WHOLE NEW WORLD" FROM ALADDIN IS A SOPHITZ SONG

F I G H T M E