#lest play assassins creed

[rachelkaser]

The case for a female protagonist in Assassin’s Creed: Codename Red

Assassin’s Creed has hemmed and hawed on giving its games a solo female protagonist. Codename Red might be Ubisoft’s chance to go all-in -- if it takes the plunge. Here’s how it could work and why the developers should do it.

You know the expression, “The opposite of love isn’t hate but indifference?” The point of it is to demonstrate that lack of care is the greatest sign of love’s absence. But turn it on its side slightly, and what it’s also telling you is that love and hate can exist in the same space. I have seen no surer proof of this idiom’s truth than my own feelings towards Ubisoft’s Assassin’s Creed series. I love it . . . oh, but how I hate it, too.

For those of you just joining us, I am a fan of the series, but I am also very critical of it. I have loved this series for almost half of my life, but its evolution and overarching story is messy at best and insultingly incoherent at worst. I accept and embrace the series as it is, while also despising it for its unrealized potential.

With that being said, and since I’ve mentioned unrealized potential, let’s talk about the future of Assassin’s Creed -- specifically, the upcoming game currently codenamed “Red.” This might be the ideal time for Ubisoft to introduce something Assassin’s Creed has avoided like it avoids the modern day storyline: A starring female protagonist. Not only are conditions for this “bold” move ideal, but I would argue the company has to do it. Let’s talk about it.

Let’s Talk About the Female Assassins

Before we go on, I know I should address the series’ existing heroines, lest anyone accuse me of not thoroughly covering my material. I’m aware that Assassin’s Creed has given us a few heroines already -- they’ve even said that the female characters are the canon leads.

However, as we talk about it, I think you’ll notice a common theme with all of these characters. I call it the Not So You’d Really Notice It effect. We’re told they’re definitely the canon characters and are important to the history of the series . . . but Not So You’d Really Notice It.

Evie Frye

The ninth game, Assassin’s Creed Syndicate, was the first in the main series to feature a playable female character. Syndicate follows the adventures of twin Assassins Jacob and Evie Frye, who are attempting to retake London from Templar control. Now, according to the developers, Jacob and Evie were supposed to be equal co-leads in the title -- but Not So You’d Really Notice It. Jacob dominated in all of the marketing, and Evie’s story in the actual game is static and boring compared with his. She has fewer story quests -- should the player so choose (some missions you can select which twin to play), they only have to play as Evie for about 30% of the game.

To be fair, this is not just because Evie is a woman -- another factor is that Ubisoft was trying to marry its two different kinds of protagonists into one game. I mentioned this when I first reviewed the title, but traditionally AC protagonists fall into one of two camps: They’re either reserved stoics with a temperamental streak (Altair, Connor, Shay) or charismatic, flirtatious extroverts (Ezio, Edward, Arno). Ubisoft has always been better with the latter, rather than the former -- or rather, the games in which the extroverts star seem to be better received.

Ubisoft knows how to write a story starring a character like Jacob. They don’t know what to do with stiff-upper-lipped Evie besides make her perpetually irritated at Jacob. Her brother gets to undergo a whole character arc, while Evie doesn’t really get the same treatment. To reiterate, I don’t think that’s just because of her gender -- but I’m also convinced that was at least part of it.

Syndicate also hides its most interesting character in what amounts to a mini-game: Lydia Frye, a WWI-era British Assassin spy who worked alongside Winston Churchill. You’d be hard-pressed to find a better hook for a character anywhere in the series, but Lydia is only in about an hour of the game, total. I would love for Ubisoft to make a game about her, but I know how likely that is to happen.

Aya, a.k.a. Amunet

In the next game, Origins, Ubisoft decided to change up the formula slightly by making the protagonist an older, married father. Bayek is himself a breath of fresh air, having a different motivation than other protagonists and not really fitting the previous templates. He’s assisted in his quest by his wife, Aya. She’s supposed to also be pursuing vengeance for their murdered son . . . but Not So You’d Really Notice.

Hold onto something, because this might just give you the vapors: Aya was originally supposed to be the main playable character in Origins. According to a Bloomberg report, the original plan for the game was to sideline Bayek early (it’s not exactly stated how) and for Aya to take over. However, if this Bloomberg report is to be believed, Aya was slowly pushed to the margins over the course of development.

You can see traces of this in the final game, as there are a few sequences where you play as Aya. She’s off on her own quest to avenge her son’s death, at least at first. One problem with her diminished role in the game is that her motivations are incredibly difficult to follow. She’s out for revenge, up until the moment she meets Cleopatra, with whom she becomes smitten and flips on a dime. She’s given some more screentime in the DLC, which I assume was because the higher-ups were no longer paying as close attention.

Kassandra

Out of all the female characters in Assassin’s Creed, Kassandra is probably the best-received. I’ve yet to hear anyone say they dislike her or, worse, are indifferent to her. While I only have anecdotal evidence, I’ve heard that some people who’ve never played Assassin’s Creed before jumped aboard because they wanted to play as this dry-witted, badass Amazon woman.

According to the aforementioned report, Odyssey was also originally conceived of with a solo female protagonist -- Kassandra. Her brother, Alexios, was in the game, but he was presumably consigned the role of villain Deimos. Eventually this morphed into the version of the game we have now, where the two are interchangeable protagonists, and whomever isn’t selected is Deimos. According to Ubisoft and Odyssey’s novelization, Kassandra is the canonical Eagle-Bearer -- but Not So You’d Really Notice It.

To be clear, the Assassin’s Creed meta-narrative is that a modern-day person is reliving the life of an historical figure via genetic memories. Having two distinct people who could be the protagonist doesn’t really work... at all. It’s not the only concession Odyssey makes in an effort to be more like an RPG, but it’s probably the one that requires the biggest break from established series conventions.

Eivor

This brings us to the most recent game, Valhalla, which once again features a man and a woman sharing the throne. In this case, they’ve ditched the idea that they’re separate people and just made them a single person named Eivor. You can choose to play as a male or female version of the character.

Eivor is a Viking warrior who departs Norway with their brother Sigurd and founds a settlement in England. They’re eventually drawn into the apparently eternal battle between the covert forces of chaos (the Assassins) and the oppressive forces of order (the Templars). It’s not helped by mysterious stranger (and future protagonist) Basim attempting to manipulate both Eivor and Sigurd.

Just like Kassandra, Female Eivor is the canonical character. Male Eivor is actually the Norse God Havi. Eivor is his reincarnation and thus shares his DNA. Once again, you can tell that the female character is supposed to have been the lead here: Eivor is a female name. The in-game character selection gives players the option to “Let the Animus decide” which makes Female Eivor the Viking-era protagonist but Male Eivor the Asgard-era protagonist.

WTF, Ubisoft?

As you can see, Ubisoft has come very, very close to having a female protagonist lead one of its titles. But every time it’s come close, it’s choked at the concept stage, throwing in a male protagonist as a preemptive tonic. Why did this take place?

Apparently the directives to change all of these games from women-led to shared adventures or male-led came from the marketing department or Ubisoft CCO Serge Hascoët. Both claimed that games led by female characters wouldn’t sell. The report doesn’t say whether that same thought process applied to Valhalla, but I think I can assume so.

To be fair to Ubisoft, that presumption may not have been too far off. According to director Scott Phillips, the majority of Odyssey players chose Alexios, though he added that their popularity was about even in playtesting. But I take that with a grain of salt -- the entire games industry has historically been gun-shy about female protagonists and gives them much less marketing than they might otherwise receive.

I’m not even going to dedicate much space to Assassin’s Creed: Chronicles, which gave separate episodes to some peripheral Assassins of history. The China episode is led by Shao Jun, but I can’t exactly give Ubisoft props for that -- for one, she’s sharing the spotlight with Arbaaz Mir and Nikolai Orelov. For two, Chronicles is an offshoot game that got precisely zero marketing compared with the mainline titles.

The only character in the franchise so far who has carried a game entirely on her own is poor Aveline de Grandpre, the protagonist of Liberation. Honestly, Liberation is so unusual compared with the rest of the series that I have to believe it was a fluke. It had to have been made while Ubisoft higher-ups were looking the other way -- and given that it was originally a PlayStation Vita exclusive, I wouldn’t have blamed them for not paying attention.

Also, I want to be clear that I bear the male protagonists in these games no ill will at all. Jacob is a glorious himbo; Bayek is complex and original; Alexios has some of the series’ best voice acting; and Male Eivor is an awesome Viking warrior, and we can never have enough of those. I love this series’ badass men. I just want them to stay in their own games to give the badass women a chance to shine.

Forward to the Past

With all of this history, let’s talk about what the future holds for Assassin’s Creed. We already know that the next game in the series is Assassin’s Creed Mirage, set in 9th Century Baghdad. It’ll star Basim, the mysterious stranger from Valhalla. No female counterpart, but he will have a female mentor character, a Persian Hidden One (precursor to Assassins) named Roshan. Funnily enough, Roshan got almost as much focus in the reveal as Basim, most likely because she’s voiced by Shohreh Aghdashloo.

Other than Mirage, Ubisoft is working on games codenamed “Jade” and “Hexe.” Jade is a mobile RPG with a customizable player character set in ancient China -- doesn’t interest me much, seems designed to capture the Chinese mobile audience. “Hexe” is a cipher, and we have no details about it from which I could speculate on what kind of story to expect.

The game I wish to focus on is Codename Red, which Ubisoft announced during its big show earlier this year. Codename Red is the fulfilment of a longtime fandom wish: An Assassin’s Creed game set in historical Japan. Players have been asking for this because its such an obvious fit for the series mandate: The fictional Assassins and the historical ninja are obviously simpatico, and Japan has a number of points in its history where the traditional Assassin vs Templar narrative would fit perfectly.

So far we don’t know much about the game. According to the trailer, it’s set in “Feudal Japan” (which could be anywhere within a roughly 500-year period), it’ll have the action-RPG gameplay of Odyssey and Valhalla, and it’ll let players live a “shinobi fantasy.” That’s all we’ve got to work with, outside of rumors.

Now let me explain why this game should have -- nay, cries out for a female shinobi to lead.

The Land of the Rising Sun

Ubisoft has used Japan as a setting in the expanded AC universe, most notably in the French novel Blade of Aizu and in Memories the card game -- yes, Assassin’s Creed had a digital card game. The latter revealed that the Assassins established a Brotherhood in Japan during the Sengoku Period by allying with the country’s ninja, including Hattori Hanzo.

Let me paint a picture of the kind of female character we’d have if Ubisoft actually moved forward with this idea. We’ll call her “Akane” for reference. Suppose that we start in feudal Japan -- perhaps slightly before the age of Hattori Hanzo, but still within the Sengoku Period -- and Akane is a young merchant, perhaps someone who participates in the burgeoning trade with newly arrived Europeans. One day something happens that almost makes her a casualty in this time of upheaval -- I leave it to those who are more well-versed in Japanese history to say what.

Akane obtains a Hidden Blade, either from one of her European friends, or perhaps a member of the Chinese Assassin Brotherhood (Shao Jun would have been active around this time). Determined to keep the common people from being wrapped up in the machinations of those in power, Akane swiftly begins growing a network of spies across the region, participating in several covert assassination missions, and essentially starting an Assassin’s bureau all by herself in Japan.

I don’t have the requisite academic background to speak from authority on the subject, but even cursory research shows that female spies, assassins, and warriors were not rare in Japan. In fact, one such historical figure, Mochizuki Chiyome, recruited an entire spy network of female shinobi. She’s a character in Memories, albeit working for the Templars and opposed by Hattori Hanzo. There is historical precedent aplenty for this “Akane” character, and I’m excited just at the idea of what Ubisoft could do with her if they really cared enough.

Having said all that, I’m not going to bother giving an historical justification for a female protagonist in this game. I am not going to address them directly, but the misogynistic fuckwits who oppose the concept of a female protagonist on principle (or the illusion of principle) often use “historical accuracy” as a flimsy shield for their real intent. I don’t want to even give the impression that I’m meeting them on their level. Because here’s the fun thing: Historical accuracy could not possibly matter less in the Assassin’s Creed series.

Nothing is True...

If we’re being very honest with each other (and we always are here in my house), AC’s pretentions to historical accuracy have always been shallow at best. For the last few years, the developers have tried to position AC as some kind of portal to a proper history education, which is commendable and also kind of adorable given how little their series resembles real world events. (Those Who Came Before, anyone?)

But leaving aside all of that, the entire conceit of the series is that history was not as we’ve been taught it. Major forces in the world have deliberately obscured or buried historical facts and figures, and the version that we’ve been taught is a sanitized version palatable to the Templar overlords. If you played Black Flag and spent any time in the modern day (though if you avoided that, I wouldn’t blame you), you’ll remember that the entire point was that Abstergo is Templar-washing the historical people who’ve opposed them.

Connor became a brutish savage. Ezio became a deranged serial killer. Altair became an arrogant heretic. Aveline was lauded, but they notably cut off her story around the time she pretended to join the Templars, making it seem that she did come around the “right” way of thinking. I found that part of Black Flag surprisingly clever -- while we, the players, know that’s not an accurate view of their lives, we can also see how Templars can paint that picture with just a slight twist of the facts. When it comes to history, it matters who tells the story.

My point being that this is the most elegant venue ever to tell a story about a person who may not have a whole lot of historicity. Oh, you don’t think women could have feasibly been warriors and assassins at this time and place in history? That’s what the Templars want you to think! Especially when you consider that the Templars in the games are traditionally the rich and powerful, while the Assassins recruit from society’s oppressed and downtrodden. Seriously, I could not create a better stage than this to tell this kind of a story.

...Everything is Permitted

One thing I have not yet addressed is why it might be in Ubisoft’s best interest to put a woman in the lead of this game. Three words: Ghost of Tsushima. Let me expand.

Players have been asking for a Japanese Assassin’s Creed game since the series began, but Ubisoft never delivered on that. AC3 creative director Alex Hutchinson once said, by way of explanation for why they weren’t considering it, “People on the internet suggest the most boring settings. The three most wanted are WWII, feudal Japan and Egypt. They're kind of the three worst settings for an AC game.”

He later added, “Feudal Japan would work as an Assassin's game, for sure, but I feel like it would start to look like 'oh, have I played this?' You know what I mean - 'oh, I've been a ninja before, I've been a samurai before'." Well, if the problem was that ninja and samurai were too common for Ubisoft, then they’re really not going to like the market into which Codename Red will launch.

In terms of a quasi-historical fantasy game set in Japan where players are a sneaky anarchist people’s hero trying to topple a militant regime, we’ve got Ghost of Tsushima. And it was both a great game and hugely successful -- enough so that I’m not sure Ubisoft should try to beat it.

To make matters more unfavorable, Ghost of Tsushima 2 is heavily rumored to be in the works. Team Ninja is also working on Rise of the Ronin. Honestly, if even one other “Japanese historical fantasy” title launches in the same year as Codename Red, then it’s going to be in trouble.

So if Ubisoft really wanted to stand out, they could do something I’m quite certain the other games won’t do. It’s a really easy solution, too: Make the protagonist a woman. The historical background is there, insofar as Ubisoft has ever needed it to be. They’ve come very close to doing it many, many times. Now I want to see this franchise grit its figurative teeth and take the plunge of actually giving a woman the starring role.

Appendix: Reality Check

Having said my piece, I wanted to add that I’m aware just how remote the possibility of this actually happening is. While female game protagonists are not as rare as they once were, and studios are becoming slightly less reluctant to greenlight a game with a woman in the lead role, the chances of Ubisoft finally giving in and making a female Assassin-led title are smaller than I’d like.

In part, the problem is Ubisoft. The company’s alleged culture of hostile, noxious masculinity was only revealed recently, and I’ve seen no sign that it’s made significant enough improvement to give me hope. For one thing, TheGamer recently reported that devs are actively avoiding Red because director Jonathan Dumont allegedly has a history of being verbally abusive, particularly to women.

The other part of the problem is that, as optimistic as I am that there’s a sea change in the industry, a game with a female lead character is still a Big Deal . . . and not the kind of Big Deal that publishers want. And Ubisoft is not just any publisher -- it’s a publisher that has proven, time and again, that it’s not willing to put a woman in the spotlight all by herself.

I can’t lie: That makes me very sad. Having a female character should not be a Big Deal. It should not be something that requires extensive rewrites in order to shoehorn in a male option to steal her thunder. I can promise you that, when a Ubisoft creative pitched Mirage to his higher-ups, no one responded with, “Hmm, Basim, really? Not sure about that. Don’t you think we should make Roshan playable too, just for the people who want to play as a woman?”

In any case, we’ll likely hear more about Assassin’s Creed Red at some point in the near-future. My fingers are crossed, but my hopes are summarily tempered. I can still dream, can’t I?

[desertfangs]

Do you have an in-canon explanation for where Daniel was in BCo? I like to think he's on a secret mission for the court that Lestat couldn't reveal in the book.

Oh my gosh I'm so glad you asked! I think about this all the time. The fact that Daniel isn't there is just so weird. Like everyone he cares about is there: Armand, Marius, Lestat, Louis... It's just such an odd and strange omission and we know why (Anne either didn't notice or didn't care, she did not have any use for him by the end!) but in-universe it's just completely baffling. So I have many theories: 1. Daniel is there but left out of the book because he and/or Armand demanded it. I've mentioned before that maybe he paid Lestat off to leave him out, and @rainbowcarousels and I have joked that maybe it's due to his mortal family and not wanting to draw more attention to himself while he's still in the span of his mortal lifetime and people may be searching for him. If he has relatives who are actively looking for him or curious about his whereabouts, the less attention he gets the better. (This is, at the very least, why I think his name is misspelled in Prince Lestat.)

2. Daniel is housesitting Trinity Gate. I don't know, they could pay a gardener to water the plants, it's not really necessary but maybe he got really into video games and wanted some time alone to play through some epic game like The Last of Us or Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag. Maybe when he hears things are going down (via Armand probably, or a weird Facetime from Marius where the camera is facing his bookshelf) he offers to come, but Marius and Armand are worried he would put himself in danger, and so he's told to stay where he is.

3. Armand sent Daniel out on business. The guy has more properties than Logan Roy and all kinds of investments. Maybe he sent Daniel on some business errand or to handle some big real estate deal. And again, maybe he told Daniel to stay away once things got dicey.

4. Secret Court Mission! I love your theory so I'm adding it to the list. Maybe there was some group of vampires they'd been trying to bring into the fold and Lestat suggested they send Daniel to go negotiate with them since he's charming and affable but also good at getting the heart of things and asking tough questions. Or maybe he's on a mission to acquire some weird vampire artifact or priceless work of vampire art that they'd rather not publicize the existence of, lest the Talamasca also try to get their hands on it.

So yeah, lots of possible reasons, all fun to think about. I go back and forth on what I actually think but I do enjoy coming up with reasons he's not there. And if anyone else has their own theories, I'd love to hear them!

[thegamingcatmom]

You saying you've been taken by gaming recently made me imagine miss drama queen finding a working laptop and instead of asking for help she just boots up something like stardew valley to chill because momma been on her nerves recently lmao

Hope you're all good mama cat, what game has your attention atm?

Hey scarlet, hope you´ve been doing well! 😽

LMAO, I love that! That´s sure as hell what I would do, if I were in that situation lol.

With someone like Maggot Momma constantly up your bum, chances are very slim you´d make it out of that building, much less finding someone willing to enter it. So really, a girl gotta keep herself busy in some way, right? Some way that doesn´t involve being used as a stress reliever.

In fact, I think I´ll have to write out a lil something at some point, because I absolutely love the idea of Miss Drama Queen wearing these massive headphones, blocking out the world, and just vibing for once, not giving a shite about what is going on in that hellhole at the moment, which is-

Meanwhile, on the other side of that door:

Latter we best keep away from prying eyes though, lest that laptop meets an untimely demise. 👀

As for myself, I´ve been playing Assassin´s Creed Valhalla for quite a while now. I´ll usually be playing one game for months on end, as I have this urge to explore anything there is to explore. I also tend to get sidetracked by...almost everything, really. 😅

So yeah, I have yet to finish Valhalla BUT, I´m close. I can feel it. 💪😤

Thanks a lot for that ask! ❤️

[maranzalla]

For the video games asks: 8, 23, 31

A series you haven’t played but are interested in trying

I'm very interested in Pentiment , because it looks exactly like my shit, in fact it's so much my shit that I'm afraid of it lest it consumes my brain , which is always a very small step away from being consumed by XV century heresies

A “Wow” moment of awe

I'm going to be a basic bitch here, but that moment in 2009 Assassin's Creed II has the Animus render Florence? That thing in 2009 was pure bliss on screen, it was incredibile! And don't make me post the "may it never change!" title screen

Someone has never played a video game before but is open to trying any genre. What game would you recommend as their first?

Not to sound as a Hodd Toward spokesperson but my dad has played Skyrim and enjoyed it. I think it's pretty good as a starter game because you can play it pretty casual (see dragon, shoot dragon) or you can get really invested in Talmor politics eventually it's also chill and low stakes , you can gather nirnroot in peace

[redxeyon]

I took many stills whilst recording Assassins Creed Odyssey. So I thought I would actually share them too, but a bit spiced up as artwork; Enjoy!

#assassinscreedodyssey #assassinscreed #ubisoft #art #stills #gaming #painting

[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

Miracles -- Part 3

07/04/2021: Here it is!! The one, the only, the... 6.1k words of purely self indulgent protective!Jacob (lowkey been doing it for everyone and their mother except for when with the reader and idk why bc i dig that shit too)

I really hope you guys enjoy this, because I loved writing it!! There's a chance I could sneak in a last chapter if people wanted that? Feedback would be greatly appreciated!! This is super long, so sit down and get comfy :)

Pry these commas from my cold, dead hands tho. Also, I HC Jacob to be predominantly left-handed, but that's just me aha.

Warnings: Bit of violence, swearing, corporal punishment, arson (without giving too much away)

Tagging: @marshmallow--3 // @missingfrye // @ct-5445 // @iceboundstar // @rahdaleigh // @pink-polarfox // @b3k1720 // @itseivwhore // @sofiewithat // @missbenzayb

Assassin's Creed Mobile Masterlist

Red Dead Redemption 2 Mobile Masterlist

Part 1 HERE, Part 2 HERE

The night was cold.

You retreated further under the blankets, turning to rest your head on your beloved’s chest. You wore an oversized shirt, and he wore a loose pair of breeches. His arm pulled you closer, fingers stroking your bicep. In turn, you traced the Rook painted on his chest. “Jacob?”

He turned to gaze down at you, lips inches from your forehead. “Yes, my love?”

“My family have written to me; they would like me to visit them in Warwick.”

“Your family lives quite far,” Jacob remarked, smiling adoringly at you. “Will you and Lily be alright travelling by yourselves?”

You sighed. “That’s the problem.” Sitting up, you gently grasped Jacob’s hand, playing with his fingers. “They don’t know that Lily exists, and I have no chance of telling them that I have a child without the status of ‘wife’.”

“I see…” Jacob watched you trace the lines on his hand. “Is there anything I can do?”

Propose, you idiot.

“Could you look after Lily while I’m away?”

“On my own?” His fingers tightened around yours.

“I trust you with her, Jacob. You’re the only one I can trust her with.”

He sucked in a breath. “Are you sure?”

“Stop doubting yourself.” You kissed his temple. “Besides, she adores you; she’ll listen to you.”

“Alright then. It’s decided.”

“Thank you, my love. However can I make it up to you?”

Sensing the humour in your tone, Jacob winked. “I can think of a few things.”

You laughed to yourself as you blew out your candle, the darkness enveloping the room as you pulled yourself closer to Jacob, the security of his arms lulling you to sleep.

----------

Before you knew it, you were packing a carriage with your luggage, setting off for the journey ahead. Jacob was standing in the doorway of your house, Lily resting on his hip. “Mama, do you have to go?”

“Sweetheart, if I don’t, then horrible Aunt Susan will come marching all the way down here herself, and we don’t want that, do we?” Lily shook her head, giggling.

“She’s not the only one who’s going to miss you.” Jacob wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. Smiling, he dipped his head to lock his lips with yours.

“Yuck!”

The both of you pulled apart, chuckling.

“Well, I best be going. Don’t get into any trouble; I know what you both are like unsupervised.”

Sharing mischievous looks, they began to wave as you got into the carriage.

“Bye, Mama!”

“Safe travels, my love!”

You watched as they recede from view, the picture of your perfect family playing in your mind as hooves against cobblestone played in your ears.

As soon as the carriage turned the corner, Jacob turned to Lily. “What do you fancy doing?”

Lily giggled. “I have school!”

Jacob mockingly rolled his eyes. “That is the worst answer I’ve ever heard.”

“Are you saying I can skip?”

As much as he’d want to say yes, you would have punted him six ways from Sunday. “‘fraid not, love.” He took her inside. “But I can promise that afterwards, I’ll take you to get iced cream.” Lily cheered in victory before she hopped down, scurrying to collect her things for the day ahead.

----------

Jacob walked Lily to school that morning, keeping her on his left and away from the curb. He grasped her hand firmly, lest she get lost in the rushing crowd. When he approached the building, he saw various parents saying goodbye to their children, as well as some children arriving on their own.

He knelt down to her height, tidying her windswept appearance with a reassuring grin. “You have a good day, alright?”

Smiling widely, she nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Papa.”

Wait, what?

Jacob’s breath caught in his throat. Lost for words, he kissed her head and returned the hug tenfold. “I love you, angel.”

“Love you too!”

The bell rang moments after, causing Lily to pull away. “Don’t be late!” Waving, she ran to catch up with her friends and disappeared into the building. Standing up, Jacob cleared his throat and tugged on his waistcoat to compose himself, though he could barely stifle his grin. The warmth in his heart engulfed his chest. He walked past the rest of the parents as if he were walking on clouds, his happiness fixed for the day.

----------

“What’s got you in such a good mood today?” Evie asked her brother, watching incredulously as she found him tidying his train carriage.

“Oh, nothing.” Although his tone was dismissive, his face told a completely different story.

“Did you… have a good night?”

“Oh, no.” Chuckling, he sifted through the papers on his desk. “Y/N’s headed to Warwick.”

Puzzled, Evie tilted her head. “Free beer?”

“Nope.” He popped the ‘P’.

“Come on, then; what is it? You can’t expect me to keep guessing forever.”

Restraining himself from jumping for joy, he turned to his sister. “Lily called me ‘Papa’.”

Evie’s face lit up. “Oh, Jacob, that’s lovely! Does this mean you’ll…” She mimicked opening a ring box.

Blushing, he nodded, a toothy grin plastered on his face. “I’m excited, Evie. I… I need to sit down.”

He leaned back on the sofa, tossing his hat beside him. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. “Are you alright?” Evie took a chair to sit opposite him.

“I… I’ve never felt this much joy in my life.”

“Jacob Frye, you’re practically speechless.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“You have to buy the rings before Y/N comes back.”

“I will. Maybe Lily will want to come with me. Not yet, though; I don’t want to spring the news on her immediately.”

Evie began to talk about the type of engagement ring you would find the most appealing, but Jacob had all but zoned out. He was fidgeting with the iron band on his right index finger, engraved on the inside with the Assassin’s Insignia. Barely thinking, he removed it and switched hands, sliding it on his ring finger.

He was going to get married. You were going to be his wife.

“What if she doesn’t say ‘yes’?” A sudden anxiety clutched his heart as he looked up in worry.

Evie was stunned into silence. “What are you talking about?! Of course she’s going to say yes!”

“She has a child to think about; what if she doesn’t want to get married at all?”

“Jacob,” she sighed. “She knows you’d do anything for Lily. You’ve done it right from the beginning.” He shifted in his seat as a phantom pain clutched his side, remembering his tussle with Thomas Lynch. “She would be insane not to want someone like you as a husband, and as a father to her child.”

“When did you learn to talk like that?” Jacob smirked.

“When you’re the eldest, you learn a thing or two.”

“Bullshit.” He scoffed, but wordlessly thanked her for the reassurance.

“Knock knock.” Eyes fixed on the doorway as Henry peered around the corner. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I need some papers from Jacob.”

“Right; which ones?” He stood up and closed the two meter gap to the pile of half sorted paperwork.

“The ones on James Brudenell.”

“Who?” He frowned.

“Lord Cardigan.”

“Oh, that prick…” He thumbed through the various files, quickly getting to the end with no sign of the desired intel. “I must’ve left it at the house. I’ll head off there now and bring them to you tomorrow.”

“Can you not come back straight away?”

“I need to get to the school; there won’t be enough time. I’m taking Lily out for that new iced cream.” Evie quirked her lips into a knowing smile. “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” she shrugged.

Shaking his head, Jacob grabbed his hat and opened the door, watching the train slow into the station. “See you tomorrow.”

“Don’t forget the--”

“The papers, yes, I’ll get them!” By then, he had already jumped onto the platform, disappearing into the crowd.

----------

On the stroll back to the house, Jacob checked his pocket watch, planning his time accordingly. He’ll find the papers, finish the paperwork that should’ve been completed two weeks ago, and head to the school.

The street seemed unusually quiet at this time in the afternoon, but Jacob only grew concerned when he noticed a lack of Rooks. Usually, there would be more and more scattered around the closer he grew to the house, but so far he could count them all on one hand. A scuffling from behind him pricked at his ears. He spun, brows furrowed, but the road was empty, save for a carriage calmly trotting past. He used it as a reassurance that he was probably acting paranoid, and continued where he was heading, albeit at a faster pace.

The secure feeling he felt upon approaching the house eased the weight on his chest. Pulling out his key, he wasted no time in disappearing inside. It was quiet without you, and there was the familiar longing he felt in his heart. Sighing, he mentally crossed off another minute until he could hold you in his arms again.

He moved upstairs and into his study. At the prospect of spending more time with him, you jumped at the chance to make a spare empty room a working office. He hung his jacket and hat on a coat rack, taking a seat at the desk. The natural light coming through the window landed perfectly on the wood, illuminating the workspace without the need for candles. Jacob searched his drawers, finding the file with relative ease. He grabbed a dip pen, opened an ink pot, and quickly began scrawling details down.

He was lost in thought at the memory of his encounter with Lord Cardigan when a crude knocking hit the door downstairs. Jacob froze, focusing on the noise outside. All business was kept around the train; he sternly told Evie and Henry not to give out the address to anyone. The only other people who would have had an idea where he was were the Rooks stationed around the street, but they were loyal -- were they not as trustworthy as he thought? Who was at the door?

Harsher thuds against the door made his heart leap. He moved slowly; inch by inch, he stood and crept towards the door, pulling out the cane from his coat as quietly as he could. His boots barely made a sound as he headed down the stairs, hand calmly turning the knob to open the door.

On the other side stood two gentlemen, waiting almost expectantly. “Can I help you?” Jacob asked, tone laced with suspicion.

The two exchanged looks before one started to speak. “Pardon me, sir, but would you be interested in purchasing some humbugs? We’re opening a new shop not too far from here. We thought we could go from door to door to begin our business endeavours.”

Eyes flitting between the two, unease began to set in. “No, thank you.”

“Understood. Have a nice day.” The other tipped his hat and turned to leave as Jacob slowly shut the door again.

“What…?” He’s had bankers act more persuasive than these men. They did not seem that interested in sales. His eyes scanned the room, as if that would give him answers to a most peculiar interaction. In a second, his heart jumped as they landed on the clock. If he didn’t leave now, he’d be late to pick up Lily. He grabbed his coat and hat from upstairs and burst out of the door, rushing in the direction of the school.

----------

He made the journey by the skin of his teeth, jogging almost the entire way. As soon as he approached, the bell rang, and children began to flood out of the doors. He stood by a tree and scanned the children as they continued to rush out. A few moments later, Lily emerged, nervously clutching her hands together as she scanned the adults around her. Jacob frowned and walked towards her, concern growing. He could see the upset growing as she at first couldn’t see him. “Lily!”

As soon as she heard her name, her gaze immediately landed on the source and took off running towards him. He knelt just in time for her to jump into his arms, face hiding in his neck. “Hey, are you--” He was cut off by the sound of sobs. “Okay, alright, it’s alright, angel.” Confused, he picked her up and went to sit on a bench overlooking the playground, shushing her gently.

Cradled in one arm, Jacob used his free arm to reach into his pocket, bringing out his flask. “Take a drink, sweetheart.” She gingerly took the container, taking a few gulps of the fresh water inside. “Now, tell me what happened.” He tried to speak softly, to not provoke more tears.

“I didn’t do it! They think I did, but I didn’t!”

“What didn’t you do?”

“Throw a rock.”

“Even if you did do that, it’s only a rock.”

“It hit the teacher!”

Jacob was silent for a minute. If they thought she pelted a rock at the teacher, there would have been harsh punishments…

“Please believe me; I promise I didn’t do it!”

Shocked, Jacob pulled her closer. “Of course I believe you! Why wouldn’t I?” His eyes landed on her fists, which have barely opened since he saw her, save for the flask. “Can I see your hands?”

She nodded, and Jacob shifted her against his shoulder so he could use both hands as he slowly uncurled her fingers. Her palms were a stark red, the clear markings of a cane riddled her skin almost completely; and they looked like the instrument hit hard. He quietly asked for the other one, inspecting them with the care one would give to a newborn, brows furrowing at the sight. Lily watched his eyes moving constantly across her hands. The thought of letting her father down ushered tears to the surface. Jacob’s eyes caught hers watering. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry…”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, love. Do you know who really did it?”

Nodding slowly, she pointed to the playground to a boy who was laughing by a group of children who were playing with marbles. “Oliver.”

“Okay.” The two of them stayed there for a while as Lily continued to calm down.

Just as Lily began to smile at Jacob’s conversation, a shadow overcame the both of them. Jacob felt her recoiling into his side. He looked up to see a weathered looking man with a styled moustache and a stiff looking suit, a hand against the back of his head. “So, she’s yours.” The slight tone of disapproval channeled an urge of protectiveness inside him. He sat Lily behind him on the bench as he stood toe to toe with the teacher.

“Is there a problem?” Jacob’s eyes assessed the man from head to toe, noting the thin cane that he leaned on.

“You should be ashamed of your daughter’s behaviour.”

“Why? She did nothing wrong.”

“On the contrary…” Turning around, he removed the cloth on his head, revealing a jagged cut along the back of his head.

“It wasn’t me, sir! It really wasn’t!” Lily was begging for her teacher to believe her.

“Then who was it?”

Lily stood up on the bench still hiding behind Jacob’s shoulder but managing to equal his height. “Him.”

Her finger showed Oliver laughing at someone who had tripped over a skipping rope.

“Do you really think that she would do something like this?” Jacob raised an eyebrow.

Neither agreeing or disagreeing, he instead gestured with his cane. “I’m watching you, Y/L/N.” Jacob narrowed his eyes. “I would be mindful of your attitude towards my daughter.”

Grumbling, the teacher turned and walked away. “Oliver!”

“Th-Thank you.” A sniffling from behind him softed his face and melted his heart.

“Let’s go, angel. There’s some iced cream with our name on it.”` He hoisted Lily on his hip and headed in the direction of home, hoping that the anger would dissipate with each passing step.

----------

The house came into view shortly after Jacob left the sweet shop, two cardboard pots of the cold dessert in their hands. “This is delicious!” Lily was almost her normal self again over the journey home, relinquishing details of the day as they closed the short distance to the house. Placing Lily on the floor, he took out his key and pushed it into the lock, turning the knob. Without turning the key, the door opened. He must’ve forgotten to lock it when he left the house earlier. Brushing it off, he opened the door the rest of the way and stepped aside for Lily to enter first. He checked the rest of the street one more time for anything out of the ordinary before shutting and locking the door behind him, acting safe rather than sorry.

A slight smell filled his nose as he walked into the room. It was barely there, but he could smell something. Unfocusing his eyes, he watched as colours flooded his vision. Looking around, he couldn’t spot anything strange right away, but the smell was in the air and it set him on edge. Shaking his head, he rubbed his eyes. He had felt more emotion in one day than he had for a long time, and his body had worn him out. “Are you hungry, Lily?”

She sat at the kitchen table. “A little bit.”

“Anything you particularly fancy tonight?”

“Hmm… Sausages and potatoes!”

Jacob chuckled at her excitement. “Consider it done, my lady.”

----------

Dinner was over and done with by the time the sun set below the skyline. Jacob helped Lily get ready for bed before tucking her in. “When’s Mama coming home?” she asked, playing with Jacob’s hair.

“Hopefully in a few days; Warwick is surprisingly far, even by carriage.”

“Thank you. For believing me.”

Jacob smiled sombrely. “I will always believe you. That also reminds me…” He reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out a small pot of salve. “May I?” Lily offered her hands, and Jacob gently rubbed the ointment over her raw skin.

“It’s cold.”

“It’s supposed to get rid of the pain. How do they feel?”

She nodded. “Good.”

As he returned the salve to the table, he took a breath, steeling himself to give either the best news or the worst news.

“How would you feel… if I asked your mother--”

“To marry you?!” Her eyes widened, her smile reaching her ears. “Yes!”

She jumped out of the covers to hug Jacob tightly. He reciprocated, closing his eyes to savour the moment. “Please ask her,” she whispered.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Giggles filled the air as he pulled the covers over her again.

“Thank you, for letting me in.”

“You make Mama happy. That’s all I want.”

Jacob sighed, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’re wise beyond your years.” He leant down to kiss her forehead. “Goodnight, angel.” He stood up and blew out the candle.

“Goodnight, Papa.” Lily didn’t miss the way Jacob’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, shutting the door quietly.

He poked his head into his study, sighing when he saw his half-finished paperwork that needed to be handed to Greenie the next morning. Every fibre in his being resisted, but he knew his procrastination would catch up to him eventually. So he sat down, lit a candle, and tried to wrap everything up in as little time as possible.

About half an hour went by before Jacob finished the long overdue paperwork. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he went downstairs to the spare room he kept his bedclothes in. He fell backwards onto the bed. “Just five minutes…” he bartered with himself, resting his eyes.

----------

A scream made his blood run cold.

Bolting upright, Jacob immediately noticed plumes of smoke coming in from underneath the door, the burning smell inviting a cough from his lungs.

The house was on fire.

He lunged for the doorknob, the metal quickly searing his skin. His fingers clenched around the knob reflexively. “Ah, fuck!” He shook out his hand, watching as the flesh blistered in front of his eyes. Turning around, he dug around in the chest of drawers for extra clothes to wrap around the knob, turning and pulling swiftly before the heat travelled through the fabric. The door burst open. Jacob ducked as the flames whipped around the open space, newly fed by the released oxygen. Fresh smoke engulfed the room; Jacob inhaled a lungful as it blew towards him. He cleared his chest as he fanned the smoke away. Wrapping the clothes around his arm as a guard, he braced himself and ran upstairs, only one thing on his mind.

“Lily?!” The flames had almost completely engulfed the lower floor; he was surprised and relieved that he had managed to dodge any falling debris. “Lily!” He covered the metal with the clothes as he reached her door, slowly peeling the door away and slipping through as small a gap as he could, avoiding the mistake he made earlier. He closed the door behind him, the air luckily cleaner in her bedroom. “Lily, where are you?!”

He checked under the bed, and began to grow panicked when he couldn’t find her. He heard the scream, but nothing else. What if…

He swallowed, trying to ease the tight band in his chest.

Opening the wardrobe, he practically collapsed in relief when he saw Lily cowering in the corner. “Come to me, angel.” She dived into his arms, quivering in fear. “It’s alright, we’ll get out. I need you to be brave for me, okay?”

“Okay.” Her voice was shaking.

He looked around for a quick exit, eyes landing on a window. He led Lily over and unlatched it, pushing it with his uninjured hand, albeit with difficulty. Leaning out, the air cleansed his lungs. He hoisted Lily onto the windowsill to give her fresher air, holding her to make sure she doesn’t fall out. She clutched onto him tightly. He noted how it opened into an alleyway. He heard the bells of police and fire engines around the front of the house.

“HEY! OVER HERE!” A man peered around the corner. “HEY! HELP!”

“We can’t fit the ladder through here! You have to go around the front!”

Jacob blinked. “Have you gone mad?!”

“There’s a small window around the front, looks like the landing. You better make a move before it’s no longer an option!”

“Can’t you just climb down?” Lily mumbled, mind in shock.

Jacob inspected his blistering palm; it felt as if he was still holding the doorknob. Slowly, he put pressure on his hand against the windowsill. The pain immediately bubbled up his arm. Biting his lip, he tried to pull himself onto the windowsill. With his weight, it was maybe possible, since he could drop higher than normal and roll once he hit the floor. With Lily, that wasn’t an option.

“I can’t risk it.”

“Well?!” The man was still there, watching him.

“Be ready!” Jacob pulled Lily into him. “I need you to breathe into this, alright, angel?” She nodded slowly. He gave her one of the shirts wrapped around his arm. “Close your eyes.”

“Should I count to ten?”

“It shouldn’t take any longer, love.”

Taking a second to compose himself, he wrapped his hand up and opened the door, squeezing through as little as he could before shutting the door again. He made a beeline for the end of the hall, dodging the flames as they grew nearer, licking the edge of the wooden floor. Reaching the window was the easy part. The hard part was opening the damn thing. It felt heavier than it usually did, and he strained his free hand to push it to the top. Outside, firemen were already level with the window, waiting for the two of them to emerge.

“One of you at a time.” Without hesitating, Jacob leaned out of the window, one arm reaching Lily out of the window, while the other stopped him from falling out himself.

Just as the firemen approached, Jacob heard a crack above him. “Take her. Take her now!” The urgency in his voice paid off, as he jumped out of the way of a falling support beam, blocking his way out. He hit the floor, covering his face as embers flew around him

Lily crying out caused his heart to flip, but he managed to catch a glimpse of her safely in the arms of the firemen. “No! PAPA!” His anxiety eased slightly, but only just. He scrambled to his feet just as the beam crumbled completely, blocking the window from view.

“Shit!” Coughing, Jacob looked around for another exit. His mind thought back to Lily’s bedroom; he could probably climb down carefully one-handed if he was quick enough. His study also seemed to be the furthest from the rest of the flames.

However, he was on borrowed time.

Downstairs was fully demolished; there was no way out there. Upstairs was closing in on him fast, the heat beginning to singe the hair on his arms and sear his skin. He ran for his study, narrowly avoiding falling debris. As he slammed the door shut, he was relieved at the sight of the room being unscathed. For now. He looked over the papers; they were definitely worth taking.

He emptied his desk of the files and stuffed them in a satchel that hid under his desk. He worked tenderly with his burned hand, careful not to aggravate the wound more than he already had. He coughed some more as he slid the satchel over his head, tightening the strap so it would lay fast against his back. As the cold leather touched his skin, he hissed. The flames must have licked him on the way in. He turned to check how much time he had left.

The fire had crept inside the doorframe, taunting him in a turbulent tango.

Jacob hurried for the window, looking for the latch. His fingers felt around the edge, but he couldn’t feel anything. He tried pushing, with no luck. Does this window not even open?!

Frantic, his non-dominant and uninjured hand went for the first thing that he could always rely on.

Two wide shots rang out, cracking the glass in a spider-web mosaic. He moved to shatter the glazing, but the world began to spin. Knees wobbling, he fell against his desk, hitting the floor. Coughing hurt, breathing hurt, thinking hurt.

But he was so close.

He blinked away the world that spun around him, shakily getting to his feet. He threw the force of his whole arm into the window, the gun providing the force to break the shards completely. Clearing the way for his hands, Jacob holstered the gun and slowly began the climb onto the roof.

He wasn’t dying. Not today.

Wincing every other second, he pulled himself half-heartedly onto the tiles. Jacob took a second to try and stabilise his vision, securing extra fabric around his hand. He manWeuvered his way around the burning holes, hoping instead to find a way down that doesn’t involve jumping or falling.

Unfortunately for him, that choice was made for him.

A tile came loose under his foot. He slipped, the edge of the roof coming almost too soon for him to react. His fingers grasped the gutter, which did nothing but snap under his weight. Upon hitting the ground, Jacob managed to roll, but instead of ending on his feet, he slumped across the floor. Groaning, he lay still as he recollected himself. To anyone else, he looked dead.

A pained cry set his heart pumping again, yet he didn’t realise at first that the cry was because of him, not for him. Light footsteps rushed over to him. “Pa? Papa?” He felt fingertips dance across his cheek. “Please wake up!”

He reached for the source of the voice. “I’m okay. Are you alright?” He managed to open his eyes to check over Lily’s state. Her eyes were bloodshot, her skin was dirtied in soot, and one of her hands was bleeding. “Has anyone said they would help you with this?”

She shook her head, the worry not leaving her face. “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be; it’s over now.” He began the arduous process of standing up; from his stomach to his hands to his knees to his feet. Offering his hand to her, Jacob led the two of them out into the street. When everyone gathered in the street saw them, they cheered. Rooks quickly came to assist Jacob and pick up Lily, but he waved them away. He limped his way to the ambulance wagon waiting in front of them. Lily was hoisted onto the end while Jacob leaned heavily against the side. Lily faced him for reassurance.

“Mr Frye, sir!” He tilted his head as little as he could to get a view of who was calling his name. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine; just a bit singed.” He tried to joke, but the pain in his face betrayed his laidback attitude. He grasped his ribs, as if it would ease the burn on the inside. “Where’s Evie?”

“As soon as we heard what happened, we sent for her. She should be here any minute now.”

“Lily goes with Evie. As soon as she shows up, take her to the train. She’ll be safe there.” Another hard cough shook his chest.

“With all due respect, are you sure you’re well?”

“I’m… I…” The floor was ripped from under him. Jacob’s knees buckled as his vision went black. After a few seconds, he came to. The Rooks had caught him on the way down. Disorientated, he blinked, trying to process what was going on around him.

He heard a familiar voice. “Where are they?” Rooks wrapped Jacob’s arms around their necks, pulling him to the edge of the wagon. He barely registered arms pulling him from behind to lie down. He noted how he was staring up at the stars.

“Evie!” A young, panicked yell drove Jacob to sit up, but hands pushed him back down against the wood.

“You don’t want to make things any worse, Mr Frye.”

His body jolted between consciousness and unconsciousness as Evie came into view. She also looked worried. “Jacob? I’ve got Lily; she’ll be safe. I’ll come to the hospital as soon as I can.” Lily was snuggled against Evie, a bandage wrapped around her hand.

“Let’s hope I don’t fall off.” It was weak and hoarse, but there was humour in his tone.

“You better not.”

“Take the bag.” He gestured to the leather satchel underneath him. Slowly, she undid the strap and pulled it out from under him, barely able to avoid causing a wince. She looked inside to find the papers in impressive condition. “It’s the paperwork Greenie asked for.”

Jacob’s smile was weak as the wagon began to drive away. The rocking of the cobblestones was rough, and although jarring, also brought comfort. He fell in company with the stars as his consciousness left him yet again.

----------

The next time he became lucid, he immediately noticed that he could breathe better; oxygen was easier to take in than before, and although not perfect, kept the lightheadedness away. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking to adjust to the light. The feeling of rough gauze was not unfamiliar to him, so he assessed the wounds on his back based on how rough it felt to lean on.

He brought his burned hand up to see that it had also been wrapped neatly. Although that was the majority of his wounds, his entire body ached. He leaned back into his pillow and closed his eyes, assessing the situation. Approaching footsteps made him roll his head to the side, and a doctor appeared with a clipboard. “How are you feeling, my boy?” He asked with a pencil in his mouth, flipping through the various pages.

“Like I’ve been run over by a carriage. Multiple times.”

“I’m not surprised; you inhaled half a factory.”

Jacob prepared himself for the question he knew he had to ask but would hate the answer to. “How long has it been?”

“Oh, a few days, give or take.”

“How many days are we giving or taking?”

Just then, a door opened on the far end of the ward, a few people rapidly approaching. As they turned the corner, Jacob’s heart sank a bit. You were hurrying towards him with the look of a mortified wife, but he dreaded what you thought would be more mortifying: your house burning down, putting your only daughter’s life in danger…

“Thank God!” You swerved around the bed and kissed him, one which conveyed a hundred different emotions, the most evident being relief. After the initial shock, Jacob’s fingers came to your jaw, lightly directing as he kissed you deeper.

He slowly pulled away, worried eyes scanning your face. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I haven’t the foggiest what happened--”

“You’re both safe; that’s all that matters.”

“But the house…”

“I’ve been prepared for disasters like this for a while. Everything I couldn’t stand to lose went in a fireproof box. There’s nothing gone that I can’t replace.”

“Papa!” Your eyes widened as you exchanged an impressed look with Jacob. Lily had crawled onto the bed and nestled her way into Jacob’s arms.

“Are you alright?” Without speaking, she nodded, deciding to play with his hand, fidgeting with his fingers and tracing the lines. Jacob looked to Evie, who followed her in.

Shepulled a concerned face, coming up to her and putting her hands over Lily’s ears. “She’s been crying herself to sleep, sometimes waking up in the middle of the night calling for one of you, sometimes both. She’ll heal, I’m sure, but for now I think time needs to pass. I investigated what could have happened that night; it wasn’t you.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they were Templars; pisses me off though.” He turned to you. “If you hadn’t visited your family…”

“Don’t ponder the ‘if’s, Jacob. It leads to all sorts of grief.” You threaded your hands through his hair.

Evie nodded. “All I know is what happened, not necessarily who did it.”

“Go on.”

“The house was rigged to burn down. Someone must’ve broken in, set down some oil or gas, and set it alight. It all happened very quickly -- it’s a miracle you got out when you did.”

At the explanation, Jacob ran a hand down his face. “The fun never stops.” He shifted to stand up.

“What are you doing?” You put your hand on his shoulder.

“I’m going to find whoever did this, and I have a feeling I know exactly where to start.”

“Not in this state you’re not.”

He stood up, much to your protests. “Honestly, Y/N, I’m…” His vision went black immediately, blood rushing to his head.

You quickly caught him. “‘Fine?” Sitting him down again, you brushed his hair out of his face. “Just take it easy.”

“I have errands to run.”

Evie whispered something to Lily, who gave the couple a mischievous grin. “We can do it!”

Jacob smiled, catching on. He leaned down to Lily’s ear. “Pick something Y/F/C,” he whispered. She nodded, grabbing Evie’s hand and running away.

The both of you laughed as Evie was dragged out of the ward. “What was that about?” You raised an eyebrow at the secrecy.

“It’s a surprise.”

Rolling your eyes, you joined him on the bed. “Don’t keep me waiting for too long.”

Jacob smiled to himself, the familiar excitement climbing. “I won’t.”

[unholyplumpprincess]

Behave

Wanted to write for Eivor desperately bc I love her. Also ty to @mika-aris for being my cheerleader during this!!!

!!!Minors please do not Like or Reblog as this is an adult work, please respect my boundaries!!!

Reblogs > Likes. Please Reblog if you hit Like- and plz do not look respectfully, leaving horny tags fuels me!

Summary: You and Eivor have always had a flirtatious relationship, resulting in many close encounters. As a hunter, you go on trips to feed the settlement, recruiting warriors to come with you. When you offer to Eivor, she offers a counter of a trade. Private lessons to teach you how to fight, and in return she will give you company. What a shock she's in for when you show her you know damned well how to fight- and how to pin a big girl like her. Or. In which you pin Eivor in a spar match and she's Very horny about it.

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Valhalla

Relationship: Eivor/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Eivor is genderfluid and fem presenting atm, Eivor has a penis, Reader is gender neutral and genitalia is ambiguous so all can enjoy, No penetration or anything just dry/clothed humping

Words: 4k

__________

You would always rather be the hunter than the prey. 

You were the hunter of your settlement inside the Raven Clan. Working alongside Petra and Wallace to ensure your entire settlement had the meat necessary for the feasts that were held often. The cattle could only birth so quickly, and the game within the forest could only be hunted so often before they, too, would deplete. Petra and Wallace stuck more to your island and its surroundings, while you preferred to venture off. 

This normally resulted in you recruiting a few others to tag along, not to help with the hunt, but to help with the load you would return with. The furs were turned to furs for beds, the bones turned to weapons or arrow tips. Nothing ever went to waste. 

The others you would recruit were simply to help cart back or boat back the hunts and to set up camp. And, of course, to provide intimidating company. You did not look to be a warrior yourself; You knew this. You did not have the rugged scarring of the others, or how they swung heavy axes over their shoulders and walked with swagger. But you were deadly with a bow, even deadlier with a blade in your hand. Silent, never startling your prey.

~Rest under the cut~

The only one who could hear you was the beloved Wolf-Kissed. Someone you had admired since back in your last settlement. Her braided red hair, all her tattoos, her crooked smile and the cocky prowess in her step. Or how she played with the little ones, chasing them in all her huge glory and her cloak making her appear all the larger. 

You were close enough with the Jarl’s right hand. Enough that Eivor would seek you out, not just for questions or archery tips, but just to sit with you. Like when you were sharpening blades outside in the nice weather, how you’d heard her stalking up to you. She’d make conversation, her eyes watching you sharpen the blade and you looking up at her from under your lashes. 

“Skilled hands.” She’d tell you, watching how you’d spin the knife in your grip with just your fingers. 

You’d smile back up at her, sweet as could be. “Is it the skill that captures your attention, Wolf-Kissed? Or is it the implications beneath said skill that does?” Before you’d flip the knife in your grasp with a little toss and hold the hilt out to her. Always delighting in the smirk on her lips and her dark green eyes looking you up. 

“A question I am sure you would like the answer to, hunter.” She’d tease back, taking the blade from you with her calloused fingers brushing your hand. 

The flirting was heavy between you two. You suspected she merely had a strong sexual appetite, something you could satisfy. Yet, she never acted. An eternal tease. 

Whether she was denying herself for the sake of denial. Or if she truly just had a flirtatious, friendly relationship with you was a question you never thought you’d get an answer to. 

The question that leads to your answer is one asked in the longhouse. 

A feast is going on at the time. Warriors and civilians alike enjoy the night of boosting morale. Someone is singing, someone is playing a lyre, another is telling tales of their battles and memories of the gods aiding them in said battles. Little ones are delighted by all, running about and through legs and giggling up a storm as they chase Mouse around. The large, white, domesticated wolf that seemed keen on staying in Eivor’s room lest it was to play with the children. 

You’re sitting in your own corner on a wooden box, your feet propped up and one leg over the other. You work on your whittling project, carefully carving the raven’s wings with each painstaking feather. You like the noise around you, your own plate of food and mead long since downed. Your journal to your other side, containing details of where you were to hunt next. A rough sketch of a map and location you wanted to go to, and who pledged to help. 

“Not enjoying yourself?” Comes that low, raspy voice in its forever tease. You peek up through your lashes to see Eivor approaching, a sway to her hip. Like a prowling wolf. 

“On the contrary, I am. I like when it gets loud.” You tease back on your last words, flashing her a smile and enjoying the way her eyes narrow in challenge.  

You move, sitting upright and kicking the box over to her that you had been using for your legs. Eivor bows her head politely, taking the seat offered and swinging her cup back to drink her last of mead before setting it to the side. 

“You are recruiting for your next hunt?” She hums to you, glancing over to your journal. You follow her gaze briefly before returning your eye down to the tedious task of carefully carving out feathers. 

“Yes...Why? Are you interested in attending this time?” You speak as you lift the charm in your hand, twisting it about in the light to get a good look at it. You draw it back to your lap when satisfied, looking towards her with a cocked head. “Or do the gods call you out once more, no time for play?” 

Eivor’s sparkle in her eye returns at your playfulness and you like the look she gives you. That slow glance down to your lips, down your neck and body. She gives you a once over, a hum to her throat and leaning back against the wall with crossed arms as she does it. Making herself appear bigger, broader than she already is. A tone of amusement in her voice when she speaks. “Play time is what you call it?” 

“Thought pups like you would call it that. Free to run and wrestle with who you please.” You struggle not to smirk at calling her a pup. Watching her eyes narrow but seeing a slight darken to her cheeks. 

Oh? Perhaps the Wolf-Kissed had something you could dig your teeth into. 

After a moment, you press again. “Are you interested in joining? You would not hunt. I merely request aid in bringing my boon back to camp. Just some muscle and company with a pretty face.” 

“Perhaps. If you would accept a trade.” Eivor replies smoothly, her eyes sweeping you over and making you pause at what she might be implying. You lick your lips, suddenly much more interested in her than your project. You set it in your lap, giving her your full attention and cocking your head to glance her over. 

“Loki kisses your gaze this evening,” You speak with a narrow of your gaze at the smirk playing on her lips. The sparkle in her eye. Gods- any that would hear you- she is deathly beautiful. “But, I shall bite. What limb must I give up to relish in your company, o’ Wolf-Kissed?” 

“You would give a limb for my company, hunter?” It’s spoken as a jest, a light tease. A grin now reaching the apples of her cheeks, her sharp canines on display. 

Gods help you, you wanted her to sink her teeth into your flesh. 

“And you would give up your important duty of establishing alliances just to help me drag back prey,” You quip back quickly, leaning on your knees now so you can lean forward towards her. Your heart stutters when her eyes fall to your lips, but you mock obliviousness. “Seems we are on equal footing of desiring company.” 

There’s a moment of pause where Eivor just looks at you. Her tongue flicking across her lips and a smile playing on her lips. She pushes from the wall, leaning on her own knees. Close enough to you that you can feel her breath when she speaks. 

“I am told that you fight well with a dagger and bow. That your skills put down wild animals with ease- no matter the size. And yet, those around worry you do not know how to fight without your tools.” She speaks quiet, like it was just for you two to hear. You hold back a smile, biting your tongue as you realize where this is going. “Private lessons. I want to train you. Make sure you can hold your own in a fight if you lose your weaponry.” 

“And since when do you believe the local gossip, Eivor?” You murmur, pushing your luck by shifting a bit to lean the tiniest bit closer. Relishing in the way you can hear her breath still, how you watch her pupils dilate for more reasons than just the candlelit hall.  

“I accept your trade,” You say, leaning back and stretching your arms above your head to work out kinks from sitting there for so long. You pretend you do not see the way Eivor’s eyes sweep your frame. A hungry wolf. “When shall we begin this ‘training’ I seem to oh so desperately need?” 

“Tomorrow at dawn. Meet me at the nearby clearing.” She speaks as she moves to stand. You watch her, your eyes following her just as hungry and noting the sway in her step. Even as she joins the others and gets rowdy with them. Slaps on the back or grasping someone’s nape and fondly bumping their heads together.  

You sigh quietly to yourself when your heart flutters. Letting a breath out you didn’t know you had been holding. You’d...always wanted an excuse to get closer to her. Something more meaningful than just conversations. To be able to touch her in some form or another. 

Regardless. You were quite looking forward to seeing Eivor’s face when she realized that you weren’t just some hunter. You knew how to fight, and you did it well. You were ready to protect the settlement and use whatever was on hand. Yes, you fought better with your weaponry. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t know how to knock someone on their ass and the get the upper hand. 

The bigger they are... 

You enjoy the rest of the feast with a feeling of eyes following you. Whenever you casually glance over you can see how her eyes follow you, peeking over her horn with her lips quirking into smirk. 

You wanted to wipe that look right off her face. 

That night, you sleep well. Rising early in the morning like you always did to get a good start of the day. You go through your morning routine of waking Petra and Wallace, which goes about as well as every morning. With both of them grumbling at you and Petra’s hand waving you away. You set about setting everything out for them to remind them of the stuffing of a few heads to be done today before leaving a note saying you’ll be out for the day. 

The clearing was a ten-minute ride on horseback. Your beloved mare, Daffodil Violet Glenda Charolette the First, or merely Daffy for short, carried you there. All the while you lovingly chatted to her about what a good girl she was. Even doing so as you hopped off once you reached the tree line where you’d have to do the rest on foot. Tying her up and patting her side as she nosed at you in a little push. “Yeah, yeah, I’m going. You make a massacre of these flowers- know they’re your favorite, big girl.” 

The walk from there is just a few minutes. You know you’re close when you hear the stream nearby. The break in the tree line revealing a near perfect circle of clearing. Beautiful little yellow and purple flowers in bloom among the wild flowers and grass. Butterflies fluttered about, the warm sun casting a beautiful glow on the world as it raised above the trees to shine its light onto the world. 

In the middle of the clearing was Eivor. Already setting a fur up to the side and deerskins that you assumed were full of water. She shrugs out of her heavy fur and armor, setting that beside the fur. Her weaponry follows, axe and shield lain down cautiously. 

“If I did not know any better, I would assume you were trying to court me.” You speak teasingly as you approach, watching her lift her head to look at you with a sparkle in her eyes. “What? No flowers?” 

“I did not take you as the type to want flowers.” Eivor chuckles softly, standing to greet you. She towers over you when you approach, before she bends down to pluck a wildflower from the ground. Tucking it behind your ear when you are close enough and making your cheeks burn. “Forgive me. I shall remember for next time.” 

You scoff at her, despite your heart’s pounding and your face burning. You lightly shove her, laughing when she catches your arm to tug you closer, leaning down towards your face. A form of intimidation, despite her grin. Her eyes looking down towards your lips... 

You lightly bump your forehead to hers. Just hard enough to hurt to make her let you go before you move away from her. Getting some distance before she can grab you again. It’s worth the headache you’d have later just to see her bewildered expression. Going from startled, shocked, to impressed when Eivor offers you a crooked grin. “So. You do know how to fight. This makes things more fun.” 

“As I told you before, O’ Wolf-Kissed,” Your voice coming low and teasing as you shed yourself of your cloak to give yourself more freedom. “Do not listen to gossip.” 

Eivor is bigger than you, broader. She towers over you. It would be foolish to charge her, even while she’s taken off guard. It would be like hitting a wall. Instead, you stalk around her, letting her eyes watch your every move. You feel like you do when you are hunting, seeing a great bear ready for your dagger to swiftly end its life. 

But there are no weapons here. Only bare hands and violence. 

Eivor’s weakness, as you know, is she is not a patient woman. Seen when her fingers twitch, starting to growl at you when you don’t immediately attack her first. She charges you when you come in front of her, and you assume she expects her sheer size to take you out like a raging bull. You wait to feel the wind brush you to signal her closeness, quickly moving to the side and sweeping out your leg, forcing her to trip over your calf. 

“Oldest trick in the book, Eivor, come on.” You tease. Only to yelp when she grabs your ankle and yanks you down onto the ground. You both laugh as you roll quickly, moving too quick for her to yank you into her grasp. 

Her size and strength should have had you down before you could blink. But the gossip seemed to forget that though you did not raise your blade to man, you knew how to get your grasp out of a raging bear or wolf. And your dearest Wolf-Kissed looking at you with a snarl and laughter in her voice as she lungs for you was no different. 

You two go tumbling on the ground, ending up being locked in a grasp where you can keep slipping just out of her grip. Until she becomes too impatient, losing her sense when you keep slipping. It leaves her open, vulnerable. 

You strike then. 

You force your weight forward to knock against her, hitting your knee into her stomach to make her gasp sharply as her air is knocked from her. It gives you enough time to use her own unbalanced weight against her, knocking her onto her back and climbing quickly on top of her. Straddling her stomach and slamming your knees into her hands to keep them underneath you and at her sides, knowing your leg power was much better than your upper body. You slam both your hands on either side of her head in the grass to keep your balance, caging her. 

You’re both panting. Your breath mingling and your shadow casting over her. It doesn’t stop the sun from reaching her, kissing her tanned flesh. Her cheeks are flushed from exertion, her red hair sprawled around her and giving her the image of a lion. Her gaze is half lidded, her lips parted with each breath and her eyes flickering downwards towards your lips. 

“Caught you.” You huff out, trying to ignore the feeling in your stomach at her gaze. Hungry, wanting, with a subtle tilt of her head back. It lets you see the glow of sweat clinging to her, and your mouth waters with the need to taste the salt of her skin. 

“So you have.” She murmurs, her tone soft and low. It does no favors for how you feel right now. “And what do you plan to do with your caught prey?” Her tone is even lower, that damned smirk playing on her lips. She could fling you off if she wanted to. She was strong enough to. She’s not even struggling.  

“That depends,” You murmur, leaning a bit closer to gauge her reaction. And judging by how she tips her head, her lashes fluttering and her lips parting, you take these all as good signs. You lean closer, close enough your noses brush and you can see her sun kissed freckles and her vivid green irises. “How long will you let me pretend you are prey?” 

“As long as you are atop me? I cannot see myself anywhere else today.” She says a bit too breathily to just be exertion. 

You don’t hesitate to lean forward the rest of the way to press your lips to hers. Eivor meets you with hunger, her hands finally working their way out from under your knees to reach up and cup your face. Your heart stutters, her calloused thumbs brushing against your cheeks as you reach to cup the side of her neck. 

She tastes like berries from this morning, sweet and tart against your tongue. You moan into her mouth, parting your lips and matching her pace as you lick your way into her mouth. She mimics your sound, low and guttural in her throat with one of her hands falling from your cheek to grip onto the nape of your neck instead. 

Eivor’s sighs into your mouth make you shudder at how pliant she’s being. When the kiss is broken, you don’t restrain yourself from kissing down from her mouth, over her cheek, down to her jawline where she willingly tilts her head for you. Allowing you to sink your teeth lightly into the tattooed flesh there and tracing downwards with your tongue.  

Her moan when you sink your teeth into her neck makes your head spin. How her hands slide down your back, over the curves of your side to grip your hips and dragging them downwards. You don’t stop her, letting her hands guide you down from straddling her abdomen to instead her hips. The weight of your ass pressing against her. 

Eivor groans low in her throat, and you move from her neck to kiss her again. Letting her hands guide your hips back and forth, grinding against her and feeling your body tremble with the heat coursing through you. Feeling that vague hardness under your body, slotting directly against you. Vaguely hidden by the thickness of both of your pairs of clothing. 

“Eivor-” You moan as you part the kiss from her. Her hands only grip you harder, her hips starting to come up into you every time she jerks you forward. Hard enough that you can spread your legs a bit more across the broadness of her hips and feeling the friction with her. 

You bite your lip, letting your body fall forward so you can rest your face in her neck. Your arms keep you propped up on your forearms, your fingers sinking into her hair to pull on it. Eivor growls in your ear, turning her head to press her lips to your temple and starting to murmur things to you as her hips come up against you. Like she’s trying to fuck you through your clothes. 

Her deep voice makes you dizzy all the while she murmurs, ‘There you are, I have you.’ ‘Wish these clothes were not upon our bodies.’ ‘Want to taste you, want to make you cum-’ ‘Ambrosia will not taste nearly as good as I know you shall taste.’ 

There’s a wet patch on the front of your clothes as your eyebrows knit and you cling to her. Panting as you feel the fluttering in your abdomen, your hips starting to move in time with her tugs until you’re practically humping her. 

You yelp as you’re rolled over, Eivor’s body like that of a bear in how it can cover yours easily. Her forearm presses into the ground beside your head to keep herself up, her other hand gripping your hip to force you to tilt them upwards so her own can hump against you. Like this, she can get deeper strokes, feeling the muscles in her body flexing when you reach up to loop your arms around her neck and dig your fingers into her hair. 

You cum first, a cry from your lips that is quickly silenced when the hand by your head comes over your mouth. You moan into her hand frantically, your hands moving to grip her wrist as your eyes roll into the back of your head and you’re cumming in your clothes. Your hips stuttering upwards into her frantic, harsh humps against you until she’s snarling like a wolf. Her features scrunching up, eyebrows knitting as her hips stutter and she’s cumming with you. 

You can feel the wetness against the front of her pants, pressed flush against you and allowing you to feel the hard outline of her through her clothes. 

You’re both panting. Eivor moves to press her forehead to yours, her eyes closed while you peek at her through your lidded eyes. It’s quiet, a shared moment between you two until you break it with a small laugh. “You did not actually believe I needed training, did you, Eivor?” You say it accusingly, watching the way her lips quirk into a smile that she hides by turning her face to press into your neck. 

“By the gods- private lessons my arse.” You laugh breathily, the dull thrumming of your heartbeat still felt in your body. You can hear her chuckling into your neck, a kiss pressed there that makes your heart flutter a bit harder. You truly did love her. 

“Private lessons in trade for my company on your hunt,” Eivor murmurs, a reminder of the trade as she kisses up to your ear to nip it. No better than a grinning pup as she speaks low into your ear. “Perhaps you do need training. Shall your silver tongue work better elsewhere than just speaking insults towards me?” 

You flush red, shoving at her and taking advantage of her weakened state to roll her back over. You wrap a hand loose around her neck, straddling her hips and delighting in how she looks at you so hungrily. A wolfish grin upon her lips as you huff, “If anyone needs ‘training’, it is you. Shall I teach you to behave like a good pup, o’ Wolf-Kissed?” 

You delight in the way she bites her lip. How Eivor groans low in her throat like the idea of being made to submit under you was the goal all along. 

You put pressure on her throat, delighting in the shocked, aroused look crossing her features when you growl out low. “I was not made to obey. But you, Eivor? I shall teach you to heel.” 

And oh, you would make this puppy howl. 

[belliesandburps]

Non-Kink:  Top 12 Best Stealth Action Games

I was inspired by my dear pal, @twistedtummies2, to share a lil bit of non-kink related stuff about myself with’chall.  One thing to know about me is I’m a huge lover of video games.  I may not have as much time to PLAY ‘em much these days, but dammit if they aren’t one of my biggest joys beyond writing and the great outdoors. 

And my favorite genre in all of gaming is the stealth action genre.  Anyone who knows me knows that I adore the Metal Gear Solid series, but I also love a whole bunch of other stealth action games because, to me, this genre is the one with the most meat to come back to.  Stealth action done right is you being put in a room or outpost or whatever with a bunch of bad guys, and trying to carry out an objective without engaging with the enemies.  OR, it’s picking off the bad guys one by one, quickly and quietly.  Oooooor it’s you try to be sneaky, get caught, say fuck it, and wage war with an armada of Russians because isn’t it always Russians.  XD

I love that so many stealth action games can play out so many different ways.  And the feeling of escalation, like trying to be sneaky, and being overwhelmed when you’re caught and having to escape a hectic situation?  That, to me, is more thrilling than ANY set piece or scripted, linear mission from any game I’ve ever played.  It’s why I’ve replayed many of these games time and time again, and haven’t even THOUGHT about most of the biggest AAA blockbusters upon beating them.

Now, this list is subject to change.  I have a few games I need to play and they may beat out a few on this list.  But for now, here’s my Top 12 Best Stealth Action games because on top of being a thirsty old bastard, I loves me some espionage and bandana action.  :P

12) Batman: Arkham Origins (2013)

This game gets a lot of flak, but believe it or not, it’s actually my favorite in the Arkham series.  It’s City with a new coat of paint and a few more bugs, but City was still awesome, and so is this game.  It had plenty of clever predator stealth sequences, with more enemy variety to shake things up, that always made wiping out the bad guys swiftly and silently deeply rewarding.  AND it had more stealth action boss fights.  City had Mr. Freeze and a single predator fight rehashed twice with Two Face and Harley.  Origins had Mr. Freeze again, but with new additional options, and a pre-fight stage where you had to stay outta sight.  It also had Deadshot, the best of the three basic “predator boss” types, as well as TN-1 Bane as the final boss, and damn if it wasn’t intense.  With more gadgets and clever ways to mix and match, I think this game would be higher, but it’s still a great one for lovers of more approachable stealth action paired up with excellent brawler combat.

11) Assassin's Creed (2007)

The other AC games may be better, but AC1 is the only game in the series to stay consistent and simple with its design philosophy.  Here are targets for you to assassinate, here are bolstering crowds with beautiful cities to Parkour across or hide within, and at every turn, there are hiding spots but also enemies, making situations escalate organically and entertainingly with each assassination.  Hence why, despite most people regarding AC1 as the weakest entry, it's my personal favorite.  It's the one I replay the most and the one that just stays consistent with what it advertises.  No more, no less. 10) Hitman (2016)

I've yet to play the other Hitman games, and by accounts, each sequel is better than the last.  But you've seen the Jackie boy vids.  What more need be said?  :P

9) Death Stranding (2019)

Death Stranding's kind of a jack of all trades in the stealth action.  On one hand, you have conventional stealth action where you're infiltrating enemy camps and can either pick off all the bad guys one by one or go nuts and fight everybody head on.  On the other hand, you have BT's, whom you sneak around by holding your breath and moving slowly, lest these ghostly monsters drag you out to a tarpit for a boss fight.  The stealth is fairly simplistic but functional.  Combat as is would be fairly shallow, were it not for the sheer quantity of options you have in any given battle.  Seriously, you have a sticky gun that lets you snatch cargo straight off a bad guys back then immediately bludgeon him unconscious with it, and snatch HIS cargo to smash his BUDDY out cold with that in one fell swoop.  The way situations can organically just bleed from stealth to action and give you options for both makes it a blast.  And the boss fights against Cliff and Higgs are almost all I could ask for from stealth action battles. 8) Spider-Man: Miles Morales (2020)

I DO wish the game had some stealth action boss fights, but far as superhero games are concerned, no game has better stealth action than Miles Morales.  It hits fast and is deeply gratifying.  You have corridors with as much as twenty plus bad guys, and you can clean it out in minutes thanks to being able to hide in plain sight through invisibility.  Venom Takedowns with let you wipe out a chain succession of enemies all at once.  Corridors have TONS of environmental advantages to wipe out a bunch of bad guys with one move.  And unlike Spider-Man or Arkham, if you're caught, just go invisible, flee, and go right back to picking off baddies in seconds.  It's like playing a predator sequence in an Arkham game on steroids...and in fast forward.  And the sheer volume of enemies you're often up against keeps it from feeling too easy. 7) Ghost Recon: Breakpoint (2019)

This game SUCKED at launch.  Like, it was actual trash that became a chore to finish when it first came out.  But fair's fair, Ubisoft stuck with it and the end result is one of the most customizable experiences I've ever had in gaming.  Like, this game is straight up now designed to let you change the entire experience simply by pausing the game and flipping a new options on and off and have it immediately go into effect.

I hated the injury mechanics of the first game because it slowed you down and led to a lot of random, unfair deaths because you could never predict which attacks would be critical and which wouldn’t.  So now, I can turn them off.  I thought bad guys were brain-dead.  So I can make them smarter.  I thought constantly slowing down when I'm running from bullets was detrimental, so now, I can make stamina limitless. 

I thought some areas had way too many guards to viably take out without co-op buddies...soooo I can activate an entire squad of AI partners all throughout the game with me and there's a lot of coordination you can do with your team for really covert missions...and you can even customize their look to create a team that looks as cool or goofy as you want.  It’s a really dorky thing, but I LOVE customization in shooters and being able to fully customize, not just yourself, but your team to look however you want in missions is really fun.

And if you think the enemies are too easy to take down?  Turn on Terminator mode and have T-800's storming the place.  Yeah, freakin’ Terminators.  XD

The game gives you literally all the options you could ask for to have an experience perfectly tuned to what you WANT to have.  And the options you have make it so the game can feel like an entirely different, borderline strategy game instead of a solid third person shooter.  You can activate a drone now to coordinate your three AI buddies to stop and go where you want, mark targets for them to eliminate and have your eye on the entire battlefield.  It's honestly staggering how many options this game has.  And were the missions not so boilerplate and were the boss fights actual boss fights and not just reskins of basic enemies, this would be one of the best games ever.  As is, it's a genuinely impressive comeback story!  6) Deus Ex: Mankind Divided (2016)

Mankind Divided is the game Cyberpunk WISHES it was (Spoiler Alert: Cyberpunk isn’t very fun or responsive yet).  It's a game with some spectacular level design where there are dozens of ways around any given enemy and tons of options for any mission.  You have a wide assortment of augmentations to let you sneak or fight your way through any scenario and they give you the tools to use your robot powers in really clever ways for navigation purposes.  This is a game where even the simplest side mission has about a dozen different outcomes, and most of them are wholly organic.  What it needed was more...well, GAME.  After all, MD is a third of the game it was meant to be.  But it IS a marvel of stealth action goodness. 5) The Last of Us: Part 2 (2020)

I have a BUNCH of issues with this game, but on the subject of stealth action, TLOU2 is one of the best in the genre.  Every single encounter is highly difficult, but has dozens of variations.  The levels are all designed with tons of varied cover spots and hidden paths to let you navigate as you either pick off the bad guys one by one, or sneak past them.  The enemies range in their weaponry, but possess self preservation, so they aren't just standing around shooting aimlessly. 

And on top of that, combat is brutal.  Every bullet counts, and you feel the impact of every shot fired.  The melee system is simple but complements gunplay fantastically.  So if you wanna save bullets, you can shoot someone in the leg, and as they stagger, you can bumrush them, grab a hammer or brick you find on the ground as you're running and bludgeon them to death to save bullets.  The game also has a great lil "MGS4 Battlefield Stealth" system.  Several encounters have humans and infected, and you can pit the two against one another and either sneak around the carnage or use it to pick off the harder enemies.

The game also has a FAR better predator fight that's basically David's fight in the first game, but with way better mechanics.  The boss increasingly upgrades their weapon each time you attack them, the environment is perfect for this fight, and if you're caught, you aren't just dead, you have a means to escape a hairy situation.  TLOU2 may have been deeply polarizing, story-wise, but as a GAME, it's terrific.  And best yet, once you beat the main game, there's an encounter mode that lets you skip all the BS and just jump right into every single stealth action encounter and boss fight throughout the whole game risk free.  What's not to love about that? 4) Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater HD (2004 / 2010)

MGS3 is the first really great linear MGS game.  It ditches that terrible fixed camera, simplifies the controls, and has more than ten rooms where you do any sneaking.  Its best moments are proto-MGSV outposts, where you have an area with tons of guards and multiple paths to your objective, and a whole lot of opportunities to get creative.  It was also the first MGS game that made combat just as viable as stealth.  You CAN actually just punch your way through the bad guys now, and the end result is shockingly fun thanks to all the weapons and more intuitive controls.  But the real star is the boss battles.  MGS3 has some of the best bosses of any video game I've ever played in my life.  And MOST of them incorporate stealth beautifully.  To the point where you can eliminate half the bosses with any of 'em ever even knowing your location, and giving you a plethora of variety in the bosses themselves AND the means in which you fight them.

3) Splinter Cell: Blacklist (2013)

Splinter Cell's an odd series.  The story is nonsense yet also pretty drab and simplistic.  Sam Fisher REALLY isn't an interesting character, none of the characters are except the villain and anti-hero scumbag.  But as a VIDEO GAME, Blacklist is the peak of linear stealth action.  MGS3 had boss fights, and THAT was the biggest mark for the game.  And Blacklist only has a single boss fight, which is basically a slightly elongated version of Deadshot's "fight" in City. 

But the moment-to-moment gameplay is out of this world good.  You have brilliant level design that makes sneaking from A to B deeply gratifying, but you also have insane mobility that makes you feel like the biggest badass when you play.  There can be a room full of guards.  And like a game of chess, with the right moves, you can end them in seconds, which requires skill to pull off, rushing the first guy and taking him down, shooting his buddy, then using execute to auto-kill up to three guards you've marked who were in range.  It's about using the systems the game gives you to maximize efficiency on the field.  And you can pick off bad guys using your environment, or climbing a plethora of terrain. 

The game almost plays like Arkham half the times when you're climbing walls or pipes and dropping down on bad guys or shooting them from overhead.  It has a huge variety of gadgets to aide you as well, and combat is incredibly difficult but doable.  Sam can only take a few hits before he's dead, but the means to shake off enemies is fair, and recovering from a slip-up is more fun than it is frustrating.  The campaign has several excellent missions which would satisfy a person as is.  But it also comes with over a dozen bonus missions you can access from your allies, each one taking place in entirely new settings with new enemies and storylines, each one with simpler and more streamlined objectives (perfect stealth, predator missions where you kill all the enemies, and survival waves where you have to fend off increasingly harder enemies).  AND it has the best kind of co-op.  Like Peace Walker, you can play any side mission with buddies.  But it also has missions exclusive to co-op, designed to be fully embraced with a buddy you can play with on the couch or online.  It's a game with tons of content, and all of it is mostly excellent. 2) Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain (2015)

MGSV is the best game I've played.  That's because it's a game that hits all of my buttons.  The outposts are examples of perfect level design.  Each one is designed with a huge array of cover spots and multiple paths, direct or secret, to an objective area.  As a result, every mission allows you to get in, carry out your objective, and get out without raising a stink.  And when you screw up, it doesn't feel like punishment, because the combat of this game is fantastic. 

Everything is highly responsive, so your inputs happen with no delays.  You can go from diving to shooting from the ground in a tenth of a second.  And combat lets you seamlessly go from shooting, snatching guns from bad guys and blowing away with it, to taking breathers behind cover or with a human shield.  The enemy AI is the best the series has ever had.  They have way more self preservation, they're liberal with grenades, have way more variety in their weapons, and actually use turret guns and mortar cannons now. 

The missions themselves can be resolved tons of different ways.  Assassination missions play out like small-scale Hitman missions, without the frustration of screwing up and restarting because missions are so short, you just roll with the punches.  And the overall feel of a mission changes dramatically, depending on your loadout, the paths you choose in the level, your playstyle, and the time of day you select when you start a mission. 

There are only a few major downsides to the gameplay.  The bosses lack variety, like, I REALLY wish MGSV had more XOF assassins like Quiet to confront along with the Skulls and MoF.  Some missions are a bit too samey, and there aren't enough larger scale outposts.  Some more enemy variety wouldn't have been remiss.  And finally, the open world itself is pretty lifeless.  It works to complement the missions, like giving you a whole stretch of land to carry out ambushes or battle the Skulls anywhere you please.  But open world games are best when they have more to react to and engage with, or secrets to find.  Oh yeah, and the main villain should've had a boss fight, a stealth action shootout at that because that’s what the OG plan was until Kojima decided to be slightly more pretentious than usual. 

But beyond that, this game is a freakin' masterpiece.

So why is number 2 on the list even if it's the best game I've ever played?

Because this game exists... 1) Deus Ex (2000)

Deus Ex isn't as mechanically good as MGSV.  It's even that good mechanically, like, playing it now, it feels pretty clunky and not the least bit smooth.  Still fun, but you feel the age.  So why is it number 1?  Simple.  Deus Ex is the most open-ended video game ever made.  It's a stealth action RPG where every, and I mean, EVERY single level has dozens upon dozens of different paths to choose and make your own.  It has class specialization, meaning the build you create gives you a whole ton of new paths and strategies to use for hacking or flexibility. 

Every single mission takes place in a sprawling area.  You have an objective, obstructions blocking your way, and a whole bunch of guards.  You can blaze right to a solution, resolving a situation in minutes.  Or, you can take your time and find any number of different paths to your goal.  And all throughout each mission, there's tons of things to find as you explore.  There's entire other side missions with their own plethora of options.  Lots of really clever flavor text.  Upgrades to bolster your augmentations.  And really ominous messages you can find that'll come into play later. 

The bosses may lack variety but each one is a perfect stealth action battle where you can choose any number of options against the bosses, right down to running away from them and the game outright acknowledging that the boss enemies weren't killed.  Best yet, it's a game designed to be broken.  Unlike Human Revolution, all the bosses are recurring characters you spend plenty of time with.  But you can outright blow them away WELL in advance and the game will acknowledge their deaths and keep going anyway.  If you engage in a boss battle during a designated boss fight, but avoid them or run away, then that boss will turn up again for a rematch later. 

This is a game where you can create your own cover spots or platforms by gathering vending machines and dumpsters and piling them on top of each other.  Where specialization changes the entire feel of the campaign and incentivizes repeat playthroughs just to come up with different builds and experience missions in whole new ways.  And best yet, this is a game where when you're in a hub, whatever you see around you, you can interact with.  If you see buildings in the distance, you'll be able to go in and explore, and there's always something to find. Deus Ex is number one because there will never be another game like it.  It's debatable that no other game will ever be as FUN as MGSV, but no other game will ever be as open ended as Deus Ex because it's literally impossible.  The game is clunky and cheap looking because the engine it was built on was a low-memory one.  They traded in graphics fidelity and more impressive flow for the sake of creating a vast video game with an impossible amount of content to constantly stumble upon.  And unlike all the other games on this list, that open endedness actually DOES translate into the story, giving you dozens of different branching paths to the story, and sadly, only three fairly weak endings, but damn, if the journey up ain't a blast.  

I have a whole slew of other lists I’ve been meaning to post for the better part of two years, and honestly, they’re fun to write.  So, who knows?  Don’t worry though, they won’t get in the way of bellies or burp content either.  XD

[ierotits]

Odyssey has A LOT of repetitive quests. Think AC1 type quests (do exact same thing in different place 7647899843 times) idk what games you've played and which you haven't but If you dont current own odyssey I wouldn't buy it lest it's on sale. -M

hi assassins creed odyssey is the only game ive played and its the game ive enjoyed the most, i know nothing about games or assassins creed, i got it because im a big classics nerd and i loved it. i loved the quests, i loved the dialogue, i loved the game play. not sure what this ask is going off of but you really dont seem to have actually read a single thing ive posted about the game

[beauvoyr]

My Little Sister ☆ Can’t Be This Cute!

Chapter 1 | Kiss Kiss Fall in Love!

Pairings: Noctis/Reader Genre: Romance Tags: Pre-Canon | Fluff and Humor | Eventual Romance | Slow Burn | Enemies to Friends to Lovers | Reader-Insert | Big Brother Ignis | Idol Reader Characters: Noctis, Ignis, Prompto, Gladio, & You, an Idol! Chapter Rating: G Crossposted on: ao3 Summary: Noctis thought he knew everything about his Advisor. And then there’s some. i: “Dude.” Prompto says. Noctis does his best impression of The Thinker dating from M.E. 655. “Iggy’s into this kind of thing.” Prompto asks, sans question mark. The shock definitely got to him. “Did you know about it.” Bros gotta protect each other’s secrets, right? Right. But the bro code never outlined an emergency protocol when two bros are pitted against each other. Who’s to say which bro is more important to him? ‘cause Prompto’s a bro, Ignis’ a bro, and asking him to pick between two bros is like asking him to choose either Assassin’s Creed or King’s Knight.

i:

Maybe Ignis has a thing for things like this, Noctis reasons. Under all that elegant pomp and heavily accented words rolling off a tongue peculiarly eloquent in jabs, steam-soft shirts and slacks swishing about as he walks, maybe he secretly harboured an interest in things betraying his stern and stoic stature. Being the personal advisor to the prince grants him no leeway in freely expressing his interests beyond what Noctis eats, which meetings Noctis should be attending, when Noctis finishes classes, and whether or not Noctis got over his lachanophobia. Which, according to Ignis Posh Scientia, is fear of vegetables.

(Noctis so does not have a fear of vegetables.)

(He just doesn’t like them.)

(Very much.)

None of his internal monologues answered why on Eos in this standard Audi commissioned to every Citadel staff, in this dull sedan with its immaculate leather trim and waxed dashboard, Ignis kept a CD.

An idol CD. The kind you’d find in a budget bin somewhere in Rock Corner for 90% off just because they want to get rid of trashy music as soon as possible lest it besmirches their shop’s status. Flashy pink booklet with signature of the iNTERGALACTiC ★ DiVΔ done in gold, sprawled all over its childish arrangement of what seems to be said Intergalactic Diva in the idolesque ensemble of flouncy skirt, crisp blazer scattered with silvery military embellishment, wearing the laciest pair of platform heels while simultaneously surrounded with stuffed toys. Stuffed toys. As if the whole setup made sense only to the art director like some army veteran crossing over the whole cute couture concept they’ve got going on here.

Noctis takes another good look at the CD. A deeper, closer, more intimate look at the girly plastic casing and its tracklist on the back as though it’d explain the enigma suddenly surrounding the secret life of his 21-year-old Advisor and his secret stash.

Six minutes later, Noctis replaces the CD where it belongs: Right in the deepest, darkest corner of the glove compartment, where no eyes may venture where his accidentally went.

And then he went on searching for his missing phone.

ii:

A month and a half later, Noctis is pleased to announce that he’s entirely forgotten about the idol debacle. While the matter had loitered around the recesses of his mind for a maximum of two days, it’s all water-under-the-bridge kind of thing because nobody got hurt and he’s not about to make fun of his Advisor for repressing the urge to listen to the peppy trills of an idol singing about high school crushes and unrequited love. Everyone’s got their own jam, like Prompto who’s always blasting Ron Goodwin out of one earpiece whenever they gather to demolish their assignments, and then there’s Gladio who’d sometimes slink onto the sofa with his nose buried in either An Inquiry into the Good or Romancing Sir Sigurd, and there’s no in-between.  

In fact, Noctis is actually more than happy to safeguard Ignis’ secret for the rest of his entire life just because he’s such a bro (or in his case, he conveniently forgot about it), but he’s also failed to take into account that Prompto’s exceptionally good at noticing things. Photographer quirk, he calls it.

“Dude.” Prompto says.

Noctis does his best impression of The Thinker dating from M.E. 655.

“Iggy’s into this kind of thing.” Prompto asks, sans question mark. The shock definitely got to him. “Did you know about it.”

Bros gotta protect each other’s secrets, right? Right. But the bro code never outlined an emergency protocol when two bros are pitted against each other. Who’s to say which bro is more important to him? ‘cause Prompto’s a bro, Ignis’ a bro, and asking him to pick between two bros is like asking him to choose either Assassin’s Creed or King’s Knight.

Noctis weighs the two. He chances a glance at Prompto’s shell-shocked stance of a hand barely touching the glossy cover of an・an unrolled from the boring brown paperbag of weekly groceries. There it is again, that iNTERGALACTiC ★ DiVΔ graces the cover in all of your majestic glory. Forgoing all the sparkling cuteness of a girleen for elegance, pearls in your sedate coiffure, smoky makeup and that white-tipped-fingernails thing girls do when they want to be extra fancy. You're pretty—no, beautiful, actually—but then again, when is a magazine cover not photoshopped? Yeah.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you this,” Prompto goes on at Noctis’ extended silence, “cuz I thought he was Moogling some recipe for dinner but dude, he was ordering her CD off Amazon. Thought that was a one-time thing so I was pretty meh about it,” he shrugs, “but y’know, it was so not a one-time thing because it was a five-time thing—”

Noctis makes a sound in his throat. Never underestimate a photographer’s quirk.  

“—and I’m really not gonna judge if he’s into idols since they’re cute,” Prompto nods along to his rambling which gets Noctis to nod along just to show he’s listening and oh he’s listening all right, “but it got me thinking.”

And when Prompto starts thinking, that’s when Noctis should start getting really worried.

As if guided by his instincts more than his rational mind, the blond extracts an・an and smoothens it on the table, palms pressing down the corners like this elusive evidence of Ignis’ intersecting interest in the idol world will do a comical poof and disappear in curly smoke. His stare hardens more than a diamond. “Iggy’s birthday’s around the corner, right?”

“Uh.” Noctis really can’t see where this is going and subtly wonders if abusing the powers of the Oracle would grant him a vision into the future for something like this. Would Luna grant him her strength in times of great emergency if he blasted a message through Umbra? “I guess? It’s next week. February 7th.”

Prompto makes a sound in his throat that is eerily similar to Noctis’.  And when he turns, Noctis thinks the light in his eyes is bright enough to banish the impending gloom and doom prophesized in the future. He might as well be the King of Light at this rate.

Prompto says, “Dude. I’ve got an idea.”

iii:

When Prompto says he has an idea, it’d normally be a great idea. “Wanna ditch and hang out at the arcade?” he’d ask, to which a 16-year-old Noctis would do a 180 from returning to class after lunch and misuse his warping talent to zip in and out of his classroom with his bag through the window, and they’d rendezvous at Club Sega just for diversion tactics. Blasting through zombie brains and kicking each other’s ass in Street Fighter, they’d spend the whole evening there unless Ignis hears them play hooky, usually by way of a ‘concerned’ teacher ratting them out at the very last second. At most, Noctis gets an earful that he evades with practiced ignorance with all that regurgitated nonsense of he’s the prince and he shouldn’t be skipping school, but.

This idea.

It’s very bad.

Noctis doesn’t know why, but it’s very bad.

Going up to the receptionist counter and boldly proclaiming that he’s the prince isn’t at the top of list of things he wanted to do because he’s really not into blatant exploitation of his title. But hey, it works. It takes one slack-jawed, starry-eyed intern whispering in awe, “Prince Noctis? Can I get your autograph please?” and a ballpen hastily scrawling across lipstick-smudged napkin later, he finds himself fidgeting on a stool in a bright dressing room, bulbs lining the mirror blasting him with light. Rolling racks are hanging with the most absurd yet lavishly decorated dresses decked in chiffons and sequins in all the colours a rainbow has to offer. Striped tophat completes what he thinks is a feminine form of a tuxedo, while thigh-high boots are stationed under a rugged combo of punk-rock aesthetics involving a PVC-belted skirt and metallic studs. The world of an idol is far more fearsome than the life of a prince destined to die, he thinks.

Prompto turns to him with the most scandalised expression ever after taking stock of the myriad of makeup products littered on the countertop, gasping, “That was way easier than I thought.”

“I’m just glad they didn’t kick up a huge fuss over it,” Noctis grunts. Then, as if the weight of what they’re doing is finally hitting him with the force of Gladio’s blows, Noctis blows a limp lock of hair out of his face. “We’re really doing this.”

Prompto cocks a brow and appropriates the plastic stool across him. “Dude, you’ve got a better birthday bash idea going on?”

Noctis couldn’t answer that.

No, really, he couldn’t even answer that because the moment he opens his mouth, the door opens instead. What’s he supposed to do other than to gape like a fish out of water, an expression he’s seen from all the fishes he strung up on his line, when you flounced right in? That hair cannot be natural, Noctis thinks, as he eyes the way light powders pastel purple tresses crowned by roses. Hands from who he thinks is your personal stylist are fussing over the deep wrinkles left by the rippling of your complicated dress, while the bespectacled woman beside you glares at him from behind a clipboard. Petals flaking from your cheek to your collarbone, filigrees cresting your shoulders—unless Photoshop worked in real-time, there’s no way a person would look that unearthly.

The way Prompto’s jaw is hanging tells him that he’s not alone in his thoughts.

Contact lenses are obviously the explanation behind your roseate eyes, there’s no other way he’s going to accept someone else having eyes that pretty. And false eyelashes, the kind that Gladio babbled about when Iris broke his bank wanting to experiment with makeup, yeah, that stuff’s definitely glued someway somehow on your eyelids. It makes sense that an idol’s job is to look pretty because looks sell either way and everyone loves a pretty face, so. Yeah. Noctis doesn’t know where he’s going with his train of thoughts because it’s on the verge of derailing right now, especially when those eyes flit to seek his and the corners of glossy lips curl with a sanguine smile.

You are unhesitant in striding forward to offer him your hand. Confident. Bold. Singsong sweet, the singer you are. “You must be Prince Noctis,” you say, and he’s never known that his name would sound that nice on someone else’s tongue. “Sorry you had to see me like this, I was in the middle of a shoot when you arrived.”

What was he supposed to say at times like this again?

Right, first: The handshake.  

His legs are jelly-filled donuts when he stands and his arms are wet spaghetti. Prompto almost toppled his stool when he gets to his feet to receive your hand after Noctis. “I, ah,” Noctis starts, smooth because they never rehearsed this far? And how is he supposed to be making demands as a prince to an idol? When Prompto’s rapidly zoning into outer space and ascending to Astral realm instead of helping him out right now? “Uh—I. We,” he quickly rectifies the moment the Bespectacled Woman’s dirty look peeps from the rim of her glasses, “we’re here to ask if you’d meet with my friend.”

And here is where he stops, just because your brows stitch together following a quizzical tilt of head.

That stuff only looks cute in anime.

And it doesn’t help that you look 100% anime right now.

A quick darting of your eyes from Noctis to Prompto has your smile deepening. “So that’s him?”

You’re definitely getting the wrong idea here and it’s up to Noctis to save the day by jamming his elbow right in Prompto’s side. An embarrassing yelp that shot Prompto’s soul straight into his body later, the blond’s back in commission with a shaky laugh. “Ha—who, me? N-no, not this Argentum!”

…or maybe not.

Noctis wills himself to stomach Bespectacled Woman’s increasingly incensed glare and tries to remember why he’s doing this in the first place. For his bro. For Ignis Scientia. Best advisor. Birthday. Gotta make it meaningful. Idols. Cute idols. Huge fan. You. Right. “He’s not here right now,” Noctis corrects the misunderstanding as confusion clouds your face, “because we’re trying to keep it a secret. His birthday’s on February 7 and we’re trying to make it a surprise party because he’s a big fan of yours.” At your unrelenting stare, he deflates a little. “He’s, ah, my personal advisor.”

For a second, silence reigns.

“Oh,” you say.

He doesn’t get a chance to consult what ‘oh’ means in Idol-Speak when Bespectacled Woman interjects, “So big of a fan until the prince himself has to abuse his authority and make Diva miss out on Gucci?” And boy, Noctis hates being on the other end of Death Ray shooting from her eyes.  

But you’re quicker to laugh at his honesty, batting the woman on her arm. “It’s okay, Isolde, I got this.” And for him, a mischievous smile replaces your prior confusion as you offer yet another handshake, this time for another reason altogether. “Aite, you’ve got yourself a deal! Let’s make this an epic birthday bash, yeah?”

When things work out far too easily, one should be suspicious.

Noctis, however, chalks it up to good luck when he hears Prompto splitting into a deafening, “Woohoo!” and answers your smile with a grin. The biggest, widest grin he could muster.

Because this is going to be the best birthday party ever.

iv:

This is not the best birthday party.

Ever.

There are tears down your cheeks and you’re choking on your words. Your makeup should’ve been a mess but some part of Noctis is thanking the Astrals that guided your makeup artist to apply waterproof ones, probably out of sheer experience, because he’s never seen anyone bawling this bad before. Whatever Iris had before doesn’t even cut close to this. Fists balled in your skirt, this verbal fisticuff doesn’t even look like it’s coming close to an ending. Even a fear-frozen Prompto’s clutching a gawking Gladio by the bicep and they’re far, far away from the warzone while Noctis is the only idiot brave enough to remain where he first sat.

That is, right in between an eerily silent Ignis and a Diva well underway your waterworks.

“You know well by now that my duty to Prince Noctis cannot be taken lightly,” asserts his Advisor in the calmest, coldest manner that could’ve frosted the entirety of Leide. “I’ve explained it to you time and time again that I’m—“

“You’re the advisor, I get it,” you choke out, “but I wanted a big brother that I could’ve talked to! All you did was to toss me aside like I was—“

“I never tossed you aside,” Ignis rebukes, the hiss of his words coming from thinning lips that is gradually downturned. “I received your calls, I replied to your messages, I listened to mother and father talking about you—“

“I’m always the one who has to do all the texting, calling!” you shriek in a pitch only sopranos could trill. Tears trekking down your cheeks, you are a sobbing, shuddering mess to Noctis’ left, the backs of your hands swiping away teardrops swaying off your jawline. “When did you ever call me!? When did you even bother to say good morning to me!? It’s always me who has to tell you—“

“I have a job,” Ignis retorts, adjusting his glasses from sliding down the bridge of his nose. “If I’m not carrying out my duties as an Advisor, I am at the Citadel attending meetings—“

This is crazy.

He’s going crazy.

In all honesty, he’s never tried watching soap operas for this very same reason: He can’t handle the drama. All the tears, all the angry exchanges, plots doing a backflip from I-love-you-so-much-I-will-die-for-you to I-don’t-love-you-anymore-because-we-are-actually-siblings-separated-at-birth. Galahdan soaps are notorious for pulling the rug under Prompto’s feet and making him drop series faster than his runs. But this? This is another level of drama, one that has Noctis nursing his throbbing temples because who would’ve guessed that said Intergalactic Diva is his Advisor’s little sister? And who would’ve guessed that not only Gladiolus Amicitia has a little sister, Ignis Scientia, too, has a little sister of his own?

Definitely not Noctis.

And definitely not Prompto and Gladio too, judging from how their eyeballs are playing ping-pong with how they’re chasing after Ignis’ accusations, only to have your indignant interruption instead.

While that explains why Ignis hides idol CDs and bought girly magazines, it does a poor job in explaining why he’s caught in a crossfire between the Scientias.

“You hate me,” you spit out, and woah what part of the episode did Noctis miss out? He’s pretty sure he paused on the whole you-never-spent-time-with-me, so how did it end up this way?

Ignis removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes scrunched tight with a pain only a brother could feel. “I do not hate you. I’ve never hated you, (y/n), never.”

“You hate me ever since I said I wanted to be an idol,” you sob out an octave lower, reddened eyes stabbing Ignis’ accusatorily. With how your bottom lip is quivering, it’s a wonder how your words manage to come out as a whole, sans stutters. “You said it’s a shameless job, you said they’re just exploiting high schoolers, you said—“

“But I respected your decision—“

“After ma and pa made you—“

“That’s because I was worried about you—“

“And I keep telling you not to worry because you met Isolde and you met Ninian and you met Watanabe—“

“And they are nice people but—“

—yeah, Noctis needs time out here because this sounds like a huge misunderstanding.

He composed a three-second plan and had it executed by standing up slowly and letting the chair drag right behind him across hardwood, letting the painful skrrrrrrrrrrrrrr scream cut off what's left of the argument. And what an epic entry into the fray it is, Noctis thinks. Ignis is riveted by his uncharacteristic boldness and has resorted to clicking his mouth shut. Your sobs don’t stop, but at least your red-eyed red-nosed red-cheeked face wordlessly thanked him for the interruption. From the sidelines, Prompto’s mouthing at him don’t do it Noct don’t get involved in the family feud but Six, Noct needs to straighten things out because technically he’s mildly at fault here for eating up his Advisor’s time by 70% even though it’s Ignis’ job, he thinks you don’t know how much Ignis actually cherishes your journey to idolhood and bought your CDs and magazines, and someone’s gotta eat that delicious two-tiered fondant-frosted cake on the table.

Besides, he’s going to be the King of Lucis, damn it, so what kind of king would he be if he can’t solve a petty squabble between two siblings?

Turning to Ignis, Noctis breathes out. “I got this.”

Ignis does not think he got this. “Noct—“

Turning to you, Noctis snatches a napkin from his armiger and crams it in your hand. “Listen, Iggy doesn’t mean anything bad,” he starts as you’re carefully dabbing your eyes, teeth raking across gloss-sticky lips. “I’m the reason he can’t spend a lot of time with you because it’s his job as my advisor and there’s no helping it.” This is where Ignis makes an indignant noise and tries to cut in, but Noctis warp-strikes to his next sentence. “—And that part where you said Specs doesn’t care about you? You’re wrong. He bought a magazine with you on the cover. He even had your CD in his car.”

Ignis makes another noise that sounds torn between vehement denial and dying embarrassment. “Noct—“

Prompto, the greatest wingman in every GTA heist they pulled off, nods so rapidly in his corner until he looks like he’s having a seizure. “Yeah—no, seriously, he did,” he convinces you when you turn disbelieving eyes at him, napkin crumpling under fancy nails. “And I saw him going on Amazon trying to get all your limited edition albums. Five times.”

“Oh Gods,” Ignis chokes out, burning an interesting shade that contrasts with his hair. “Prompto—“

“And we didn’t know that Ignis had a sibling because if we knew that Iggy had a little sis, we would’ve made him spend more time at home,” Gladio asserts, leaving his seat. “I know how ya feel because I’ve got a lil’ sister too. She calls me and texts me and nags me all the time if I don’t spend at least a weekend with her. Don’t get me wrong,” he adds when you turn sullen, putting up a hand to stop whatever retort you prepared, “I appreciate it when she does things like that for me. Sure, it gets annoying when I get nagged for missing movie night, but she’s my little sister and I got nobody else to protect except for this scrawny ass prince we have here.”

Noctis balks at the jab aimed specifically for him, fighting off the heat burning up his cheeks. “Shut up. You’re missing the point.”

“—a-anyway, the point here is that Iggy really cares for you even when you think he doesn’t!” Prompto crows when you look like you traded your sullen expression for a wobbling lower lip and eyes flooding with fresh tears. “We swear this is probably just a huge misunderstanding and we can probably talk this out to fix it! Right, Ignis?”

Such bros they are, never once allowing Ignis to shoulder the blame alone. Always we and never him.

Ignis looks like he has half the mind to surrender to the Astrals’ machinations hell bent on messing up his birthday—only, everything comes to a stop when you sniff. A loud sniff. And erupt into the biggest bawling session ever, dashing straight to Ignis’ arms. His poor Advisor gets his life squeezed out of him, smothered in his little sister’s death grip, but Noctis knows the glassy sheen in his green eyes isn’t a trick of light.  

Noctis clicks his mouth shut and eyeballs Prompto and Gladio, who’re trading self-satisfied smirks between the three. Sure, maybe you’re crying harder than Iris when she got ratted out at the Citadel, and sure, the sounds are hideous like a behemoth’s mating cry, but it’s a job well done for all of them.

All’s well ends well.

v:

It is much later on, when you’ve dried your tears and Ignis changed out of a tear-streaked snot-soaked shirt, that they’re all gathered round the dining table with party poppers readied and candles glowing. That delicious two-tiered fondant-frosted cake dips under Ignis’ plastic knife and, under a shower of glitter paper and confetti, Noctis plates the first slice for the man of the hour. Turning 22 is hard work for Ignis who’s probably grown up feeling like he’s 30 all the time, and his Advisor probably deserves a medal of honour from the king for putting up with Noctis all the time, but this?

Eating cake together with his friends?

And having solved the sibling squabble between an attention-starved little sister and her excessively diligent big brother?

This is the closest he could get, he guesses.

one:

They’re crowding around him again.

“It must be nice being the prince! I bet you can do whatever you want!”

“So how many servants do you have? Ten? A hundred?”

“Noooo, it must be a thousand!”

Noctis Lucis Caelum, the name of the prince who stole your brother. Iggie was promised to the prince ever since he turned eight, and stopped being eight at that moment. For a boy who stole Iggie, he doesn’t look special. Sullen and withdrawn, cherub cheeks and choppy bangs. Hardly a word passing his lips as though nobody is deserving of his voice. You know, because you sit right beside him in class. Always staring at the skies as though the Astrals spoke to him in tones a human can’t, the prince surely daydreams of things only a prince could daydream about. Living in the grand Citadel with a hundred—no, a thousand helping hands, and your brother is simply one of his faceless servants.

You do not know if you detest him for stealing Iggie away or if you envy him instead.

Because he gets to spend more time with Iggie than you ever did.

two:

This is a memory you removed from your treasure box, a careful hand dusting over the grime caking the frame. It is a class picture of all the first graders, bobbed haircuts and flushed skin from sitting under a sun, trying to stare into the camera as sunlight flares off its lens. Arranged from left to right in the first row: Asuka and Sheryl are inseparable from the start; Ben, Jonathan, and Yukio are the rascals always running down the hallways when the teacher says not to; your homeroom teacher, Madam Maria, who teaches maths before lunch; crybaby Aina who doesn’t like eating alone; fraternal twins, Rebecca and Junior are always holding hands; Noctis and you, two seemingly unrelated people who are, in all actuality, related to each other by way of Ignis Scientia.

Even as you take a closer look at the yellowing photograph curling around the edges, you still don’t know what Noctis is thinking about.

Does he know about you?

Does he know about your existence?

What about your family name? Surely he’s noticed it?

If so, will he finally relate you to your brother?

Will he finally notice you?

And will he finally return Iggie to you?

three:

Mother packed your lunch today; your favourites, rice with heart-shaped sprinkles in pink, deep-fried chicken, egg mayo salad, and steamed crab cakes. Here, you are swinging your legs, chopsticks picking off one treat after another. Asuka and Sheryl are giggling from the corner of the classroom, trading side dishes like sisters from the same womb. Aina’s gone ahead and joined Rebecca and Junior at their tables, dragging her chair over with a ringing scratch over the tiles. Somewhere outside the class, on the field below, the boys are immersed in a quick football game and trying to outdo each other for the qualifiers next week. They’ll surely come back into class later, reeking of salty sweat in this humid summer, which makes you bite into your crab cake a bit harder.

At least they have friends, you think.

At least they’re not alone, you think.

Not lonely like me, you think.

Is the prince capable of feeling loneliness like you do?

Of course not.

He always has your brother with you.

Always.

NOTES:

first off: if you feel you aint cute, you cute af. You cute as all hells in this fic. Believe in yourself you a cutie patootie 2019!

secondly: we’re going to be dealing with a lot of body image & skin problems & self-esteem issues in this fic, so that’s a heads up.

thirdly: HAPPY, HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY IGNIS SCIENTIA!

Chapter 2: What ‘bout My Star?

Someone stands before Noctis, and it’s not his bespectacled Advisor brooding on his tendency to sleep in, which is truly unbecoming for a prince. It’s a girl, veiled by an anti-pollen face mask, wearing the roundest pair of hipster glasses he’s ever seen. Nondescript snapback, shirt and acid wash jeans—what is this, why does he feel oddly scrutinized under her eyes and why does she even look at him that way?

Noctis blinks in hopes of clearing the mirage, fails to find an explanation, and affords a minute of silence before going, “Uh?”

For a moment, he thinks she’s smiling—her eyes crinkle upwards, but when it comes, it shakes the breath out of him. “Morning, Noctis. Diva here.”

It, meaning your imaginary punch to his solar plexus.

[melissagt]

Hi, some fandom questions please! 1. What was the first fandom you got involved in?3. What is the best fandom you’ve ever been involved in?4. Do you regret getting involved in any fandoms?6. List your OTP from each fandom you’ve been involved in.13. Any NoTPs?14. Go on, who are your BroTPs?16. Are their any popular ships in your fandom which you dislike?20. Any ships which you surprised yourself by liking? ~

1 - What was the first fandom you got involved in? Fandom-wise, it would have to be Dragon Age, right before the release of Inquisition. In terms of modding, I honestly can’t remember, but it was either Inquisition or Skyrim. I can’t remember which came first, but they were right around the same time. I’ve been playing Elder Scrolls games for longer than BioWare games, but I never got really got involved in that fandom (even though I do have a fic in my head for it). 

3 - What is the best fandom you’ve ever been involved in? I’ve really only gotten involved heavily in two - Dragon Age and SWTOR. I left the Dragon Age fandom because it is dishearteningly toxic as all ever-loving hell. I had screenshots stolen and I got massive amounts of hate because of my personal “canon” playthrough - a human Templar Inquisitor who romances Cullen. I was accused of being abusive (among other colorfully illustrated things) in real life because I must be for romancing Cullen with a Templar Inquisitor…how could I not be. I just couldn’t take it - people need to let go and realize that these are games, and that choices are written into them for a reason - and IT’S NOT REAL. If people could just absorb that fact, fandom in general would be a much nicer place to be. So…I guess that leaves SWTOR by default, even though my choices in that game have also left me isolated to some extent. But it’s less toxic…I guess. Maybe not. *shrugs*

4 - Do you regret getting involved in any fandoms? Even with my sad story above, I don’t regret getting involved. I’ve met some amazing people, and probably my best (and coolest) takeaway with getting involved with Dragon Age and screenarchery is that two of my Cullen screenshots were used at a convention (with my permission) and actually signed by Greg Ellis and passed out to fans. That was kewl. 

6 - List your OTP from each fandom you’ve been involved in. Dragon Age - F!Human Templar Inquisitor x Cullen, F!Qunari Inquisitor x Blackwall. Mass Effect - F!Renegade Shepard x Garrus, F!Ryder x Reyes Vidal. Skyrim - Vilkas x F!Werewolf Dragonborn x Thrynn (OT3 Not Happy Poly). SWTOR - Andronikos x F!Sith Inquisitor x Theron (OT3 Happy Poly), Scourge x F!Jedi Knight, Pierce x F!Sith Warrior. Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey - Alexios x Thaletas

13 - Any NoTPs? I wouldn’t say I have any NoTPs that would upset me or anything…we all have our favorite ships, and we all have ships we don’t particularly care for. I’d have to say the closest thing for me would be for SWTOR, Theron and Lana. I just can’t see it…will never see it, and I pretty much nope right out of stuff I see that has that particular pairing. It’s nothing against those who do ship them together…I just don’t care for it. 

14 - Go on, who are your BroTPs? Oh, good lord…you know I love Andronikos and Pierce as a bromance. And as part of one of my OT3′s, Theron and Andronikos are a total BroTP (eventually). For Dragon Age, my F!Templar Inquisitor and Dorian are besties.

16 - Are there any popular ships in your fandom which you dislike? I’ll go out on a limb here that will probably break beneath me, but I tend to have less interest in Dragon Age ships that feature an elven protag. I know it sounds awful, because I have nothing against elves, but I tend to play more humans…and I think the largest factor is because there is a huge part of the fandom that kind of shoves a THOU-MUST-PLAY-AN-ELVEN-INQUISITOR-LEST-THEE-SUCKETH mentality down your throat. Or at least tries to. I tend to get a bit ticked when fandom tries to dictate what character you should play or who you should romance, so for Dragon Age at least, I tend to stick with humans. 

20 - Any ships which you surprised yourself by liking? Honestly, and this is going to be surprising, I never really got Andronikos until I started writing him. I started writing my main fic with the full intention of my protag dropping him like a sack of potatoes for Theron. But when I started writing it, and getting into the inner workings of his character, he quickly became one of my absolute favorites. My protag put her foot down and threatened bodily harm if I tried to take him away. So yeah…there ya go. Andronikos Revel completely snuck up on me…

Thanks for asking!

[rhymisms]

The world

The world could use a lot more Jesus and a lot more love, but we look to deeds to redeem us, and it’s not enough.

The world could use less two-armed bandits, as well as those with one; we need fewer propagandists, more sonnets from John Donne.

The world needs fewer people fracking, polluting water sources, and let’s not send our farmers packing due to poisoned horses.

The world needs fewer border walls and more Borders books; scholarships instead of brawls, honor, not right hooks.

The world could use less toilet brains with humor on the mind, and a few more bullet trains to move all our behinds.

The world could use less blue and red, separating states; let’s look for lavender instead of prepping for debates.

Let’s stop bowing heads to Bluetooth phones instead of down in prayer; we expect bread to come from stones, but leave the parish bare.

The world has no place for abortion when there is adoption; it’s time we let babies be born in the world as the first option.

The world could use less cross-dressing and men in women’s sports, plus porn watchers dog-caressing underneath their shorts.

We need fewer nations that desire nuclear proliferation, lest we bring our own hellfire and our own damnation.

The world could use less superpredators who call all the tunes; let’s put our Putins on sedatives and try our Kim Jong Uns.

The world could use far less Duke Nukeum and Assassin’s Creed, fewer students who are fluking classes that they need.

Schools should focus less on policies that leave our students stressing; enthrall with curiosity instead of endless testing.

We need more kids who make their beds and help to lend a hand, so they don’t grow up baking meth and selling contraband.

The would could use far fewer suits so courtrooms remain vacant, and men who don’t just reproduce and send in child payments.

The world could use a few less Hooters, more Salvation Armys, and fewer groomsmen chasing cooters at their bachelor parties.

We say we’ll make it to the chapel but keep the pastor waiting while we sit down with our Apple made for masturbating.

The world could use a lot less swiping and far more first more dates; we should return to letter writing, not texting to woo mates.

The world needs less revenge porn and far more make-up sex; plus fewer folks who suffer scorn when they deserve respect.

Let’s be more giving to the paupers we meet on our way; we worry pennies will be squandered but we waste dollars by the day.

We need fewer calls to “rock the libs!” and “overthrow the gov!” and “topple all conservatives!” while taking off the gloves.

Let’s can every campaign speech from career politicians who remain, though they’re impeached for their sex positions.

Let’s stop thinking presidents will save us from every evil we perceive; and trying to get instafamous for opinions on our sleeve.

The world spends fortunes to succumb to distortion fields to buy more things, but slaps no warnings on sore thumbs and phones that play with endorphins.

We need less disembodied voices taking our commands, echoing our favorite choices with full retina scans.

And it shouldn’t take fifteen degrees to understand the law, so when we press that we agree, we know what we just saw.

The world should be ashamed it topped all the Netflix charts by binging on Squid Game nonstop and junk like Stolen Hearts.

Our schools should focus less on testing and elite honor lists, so students aren’t brought down by stress, but building on their gifts.

The world is under the illusion contrary speech is “hate,” they say that they promote inclusion, but stifle each debate.

The world could do with less pronouns like ze, per, vis and xyrs, and stick to two familiar sounds that we have used for years.

Hospitals should stop raising bills just to mark them down for insured people who are ill, while others go ‘cross town.

We need less doc-assisted suicide telling us when we can die, since it’s God who does decide if tomorrow will arrive.

We need less thousand-dollar boxes to save our ash and dust; stop overpaying for a coffin that rots beneath the crust.

Let’s stop mocking those whom we elect, and show some discretion, lest democracy be wrecked and we hold the weapon.

The world could use less campaign speeches and more folks who champion freedom; we need men who practice what they preach, not pols who will mislead ‘em.

We need less folks who bristle at woe and more whistleblowers, more epistles like Thoreau’s – civil revolt sowers.

The world could use more voices going to the polls with ranked-choice voting, and lose nonstop mocking from Lorne so we can all stop locking horns.

The world could use less fortune tellers torturing the same poor fellers who put their distorted hopes in the hoax of horoscopes.

The world needs less telemarketers, selling things from foreign shores, telling us to wait – there’s more! – for the hard sell we abhor.

And tell me, who’s the genius, please, who thought up convenience fees, which pretend to bring us ease but only squeeze our last readies?

We need less junk on tellies, in the mail, drunken bellies filled with ale, more zealots who will save the whales, and healthy fare like Veggie Tales.

The world needs less software Svengalis ‘Shopping models into hotties till our daughters try to become copies and end up coughing up their bodies.

By guiding them to take twelve steps, we must aid men whose cigarettes, gambling, liquor and big debts, lead them quicker to their deaths.

The world could use less drunken dudes, diet colas and junk foods, double talkers on the news, and fewer firewater feuds.

Let’s stop asking, “Do you mind this?” when we’d rather that you get behind us; we need more random acts of kindness – less Jack Daniels, more Aquinas.

Congress needs less elephants and asses in the one percent of classes spending all our income taxes while the commonwealth collapses.

The world could use more families and less men chasing fantasies who can’t keep their kin at ease due to their extremities.

The world needs more Jefferies at Oxford with their PhDs to fight for all the refugees, left to flee with their babies.

The world could use less QAnon and much more Monty Python, fewer coups and battles drawn, and fewer countries spied upon.

We need less rovers in space races, soldiers patrolling remote bases, moles decoding mobile traces and negotiators with two faces; instead our chiefs in oval bases should place their palms on open pages and promise all their oath in phrases to show the voters social graces by growing both their total wages plus their place on global stages while never overlooking places that were first to sing their praises.

And that’s what this old world could use – now what will you choose to do?

[harmonicstupidity]

“A lot of the games that are getting tons of praise as of late (Nier, Nioh, Breath of the Wild, Persona 5) are games made in Japan. Do you think the West is falling behind in terms of creative game design in comparison to Japan? If so, why do you think this is?”

“I've been thinking about this lately. It's not really related to your question but have you ever noticed that we're always referring to Japan and "the West" all the time? I think what people really mean they say "the West" is "the Rest". As in, the rest of the whole fucking world. The fact that their one country is competing with everyone else says more than I ever could.

That doesn't really answer your question though so I'll carry on. Western games are doing well financially so my opinion is probably an outlier but, for me, they are lagging behind Japanese titles, at least at the AAA level. On the one hand I'd love to go more in-depth about this but on the other hand, I'm aware that I haven't played many of those games and as a critic, I probably should before giving you any definitive statements, lest I say something stupid. What I can say is that I've barely played any Elder Scrolls, no Mass Effect, no Dragon Age, no Witcher, no Gears of War, barely any Halo, no Destiny, only 2 or 3 Assassin's Creeds, no Watch Dogs... the list would go on if I could remember any more. I probably won't play any more of the games on that list, they don't appeal to me.

If I could single out one difference - keeping in mind I don't have much experience with those games listed above - it would be that Japanese titles tend to have a stronger directorial vision. Nier would be the most extreme of the examples you listed. Most of the praise that game got can be attributed to Yoko Taro's vision for it. If there were too many checks and balances in place, all that Taro weirdness would've been shaved off so as not to alienate the larger audience. In the end, Automata would've just been Bayonetta-lite and nothing more.

Maybe at least some of the recent praise can be attributed to a change in attitude among some players. I'd like to believe that people are seeing how enjoyable it is to have a broad variety of games that strive to do completely different things.”

-Matthewmatosis

[ageofwrathrpg]

Name: Kit Aleksovich Yelchin Age: 25 Ability: Superspeed  Faction: ROSTEKS as a SPY/ASSASSIN IN TRAINING Faceclaim: Yuri Pleskun Availability: OPEN

THE STORY || CW: Death

For the longest time, Kit didn’t understand why his family was only his parents and himself. The other children at his school had cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents even! He thought, perhaps, they were just… better than Kit’s family. His parents knew Kit was too young to bear the truth. Long ago, Kit was told, his parents were magicians. They made something from nothing: hope, flickering and joyous and alive. They cast their spells in a secret language that only truly Good People understood. Kit’s mother pursed her lip. The rest of his family was illiterate. That was all. At Kit’s 6 years, he’d been content with that. But as he aged, content turned to contempt. The not-knowing burned inside of him. Although he was a proud boy, bullheaded like his father, he was not too proud to beg. He would end each and every night with the same request – Tell me about your family – to whichever parent was present. Mother or father would smile and smooth down Kit’s hair and promise, one day. Twelve years old, Kit figured it out for himself.

It was the outcome of tragedy, Kit’s enlightenment. Just another side-effect of his parents’ abrupt failure to live – like the tears that stained his cheeks and the lip that wouldn’t stop trembling. They died in a car crash. Some police chase gone awry smashed into their vehicle, tearing the metal away and Kit’s life, apart. And so, he learned his other family was present. Not minutes after Kit found out did his father’s half of the family show their faces. And so, he learned they were meticulous, too. They excised him from his human school with the precision of a surgeon cutting away a tumor. Kit’s hands were trembling, too quickly, vibrating. He’d hidden them under his legs, shamed at his body’s betrayal, but his elder cousin noticed and aggressively pulled them into sight. With a smile that read like a promise, he shook his own hand at Kit’s same rapid speed. Kit learned a word, that day: Rostek. And even then, he knew that his heart defied their creed. A world where he lived superior to others wasn’t a world worth living. It was like discovering his relatedness to demons. Even worse than this discovery was his new family’s patronization. They were certain that he’d been unhappy with his parents – because they’d lacked the same mutations that made him a Vila. He learned how to bite his tongue when they suggested his relief at their demise. He became a talented liar, and of course the Rosteks aimed to weaponized that.

He was only 19 when the word, Spy, began making a home in the mouths of his family. It was only an idea, but Kit knew better than anyone just how dangerous ideas could become. A year later, the question was posed, because of course it would be. And in the same instant, he accepted, because what else did he have to lose? When he stepped into Lesya ranks, something happened to him that he’d thought himself incapable. Kit came alive. A butterfly breaking from a chrysalis. It was miraculous really, how he hadn’t even known how hard it had become to breathe. The Lesyas welcomed him, but better yet they agreed with him. They confirmed his parents’ beliefs and validated everything they had fought for. Kit was right. But as he continued to worm himself through Lesya ranks, shame overshadowed his success. By doing his job, Kit was playing a role in Rostek dominion. His parents had been protecting him from this, all those years. And now he understood why. Kit wasn’t a fighter; he was a fleer. His ability suited him.

THE CHARACTER

His heart is heavy and his heart is sore – a symptom of his internal war. He wants to support his beliefs but he also wants to survive. Fight versus flight. If he were braver, he knows he’d join the Lesyas. He knows he’d spill his truths and metamorphose into a Lesya Bastion, martyring himself in the name of everyone who ever meant a damn to him. But Kit is not brave; he hasn’t been brave in a very long time, before he was snatched from his school, home, life – before he was familiarized with the dangers that waited for him lest he find his tongue. Frankly, Kit doesn’t know how he feels. His thoughts are beasts and he’s too afraid of provoking them to prod. Instead, he jaunts through life and relies on his sarcasm and wit to bolster his ego. If he can’t muster the courage to redeem himself, he can at least soften the blow.

CONNECTIONS

Tatiana 'Ana' Aleksovna Yelchina – She was thirteen when they first met. Two years his senior, but absolutely none the wiser. He was mourning and she oblivious. What he’d needed was to feel less alone. What he’d needed was for someone to crumble with him. But the sky was still blue and the world still turned. She was the first to suggest it – that he was better off now. Kit never did forgive her for that and he doesn’t know that he ever will. Nevertheless, when she smiles at him, Kit smiles back. He makes her happy. He makes her laugh. He has her fooled most of all. 

Marko Aleksovich Yelchin – Against himself, Kit softened to his elder cousin. There’s something wild in Marko that excites Kit, and there’s something understanding too. Though Marko will never understand Kit, he understands pain. In his first months as a Rostek, Marko would take Kit for runs through Moscow. Marko didn’t try to speak to Kit. He knew there was nothing worth saying and Kit appreciated that. Though the both of them aren’t exactly known to share their emotions, they know that they can rely on one another to wordlessly heal together. 

Luka Viktorovich Ikashev – The world became easier to bear once he knew Luka, and whether that was an outcome of Kit’s proximity to the Lesyas or an outcome of their friendship he doesn’t know nor does he care. All he knows is that when he met Luka, things started to make sense. The more time they shared, the happier Kit became. Even when he’s being an insufferable dumbass, Luka means everything to him. 

Yuri Lazlovich Repin – They were both recruited into the Rosteks on the same day, and so many of the Rosteks falsely believe them to be similar. It couldn’t be further from the truth. Yuri is cool and thoughtful; Kit is boisterous and impulsive. Yuri took to the Rosteks like a match to a flame and Kit, needless to say, didn’t. What he did do, though, was watch it happen in Yuri. The grotesque adaptation. Yuri was never hateful, but they learned to be, and Kit learned to stay far, far away. 

Nina Fomandrovna Ivanova – When Kit met her, she was his mission. A supposed Lesya, she was deemed a minor threat, but even minor threats needed to be eliminated lest they spread. He found her in a coffee shop and slipped his number into the pages of her journal. He was going to talk with her, confirm her status, maybe kill her depending on how the night went. But she wasn’t a Leysa – just an aspiring journalist with the internet history of a hitman. Instead of a target, Kit gained a friend. He likes her and pretends to be a civilian around her.

[[ More Connections ]]

ETC

People say he’s too immature and they’re right, but also fuck them.

He takes medication for his anxiety.

When Kit’s ability first began to develop, he was falsely diagnosed with ADHD and put into a class for students with special needs. Though he later left the class, he befriended many mentally challenged students. Joking about mental health is an automatic red card in Kit’s book and he’s not afraid to speak up if someone’s being bigoted.

Kit has a habit of stealing things from people who piss him off. His closet is full of vape pens and snapback hats.

Once he tripped while running full speed and broke two ribs catapulting into a building. He told everyone he was jumped by a Lesya. To this day, nobody knows the truth.

[redxeyon]

Is this where all the pieces of Eden are made????........ The FORGE of EDEN??

[adamrevi3ws]

The Last of Us Part II

After playing it back to back through five short days, I finally beat The Last of Us Part II, outpacing the spoilers! It’s an emotionally exhausting, extremely dark, yet weirdly fun and gorgeous game, serving as an utterly breathtaking last hurrah of the PS4’s extremely strong output of console exclusives.

Navigating your way through a revenge plot in a kill-or-be killed post-apocalyptic environment, Naughty Dog has yet again delivered one of the most thrilling games I’ve played in a while. The gunfights against a number of human factions that make up a bunch of the gameplay are quite challenging, but in a way that’s quite fun. One of the main sources behind its thrills and challenges in these shootouts are your lack of resources, barely having enough bullets and health kits to survive, but this in turn forces you to think outside of the box. Actually succeeding in your efforts (or at least surviving long enough to make it to one of the game’s very generous autosave checkpoints) gives you a fantastic rush. It’s ironic, because many of the reviews emphasized how the game’s gameplay highly demonstrates its message the horrible consequences of a kill or be kill world and the fragility if human life, but methodically killing people in it is just...so enjoyable? While the shootouts get a lot less fun and more intense the closer, they are to darker plot moments, the enjoyment I’ve gotten in brutal gunplay segments make me concerned I might be a sociopath. I really don’t remember enjoying the last game this much.

         The other half of a lot of the game’s combat is against the ‘infected,’ aka zombies. While they can be impressively scary, especially in some sequences in the game’s second half. However, a good amount of these are much less scary and just extremely frustrating. While your lack of in-game resources adds thrills to combat against human enemies, the combination of limited bullets and innumerable enemies (many of which can instantly kill you by getting within a meter of the player character) makes these levels some of the least enjoyable parts of the game. My roommate can definitely confirm several movements of me going nuclear at my TV.

         My last word on this game’s mechanics and gameplay is that, for better or for worse, it’s still very much a Naughty Dog game. Although I honestly thought it’d transcend a lot of tropes that its developer puts in games due to its more distinct nature, it still retains a lot of moments you’d see in an Uncharted game, ranging from fun mini-twists where your environment around you starts breaking down, to the millions of times your characters run into a blocked entrance and have to do an overlong side task to unlock it. The standard ““UwU” looks like this door is locked I guess you’ll have to go through the much longer way” segments even happen right before and after major emotional plot moments, but to be honest, it isn’t that big of a deal in an extremely cinematic game.

         I’m sure the of fans of the game and its predecessor reading this are wondering what I think of its controversial plot, and let me say, it’s rough, buddy. The game’s plot is divisive to say the least, but it almost definitely lived up to the hype. The story of Ellie, its main character continues a highly detailed and fascinating arc stemming from lingering plot threads from the first game, and despite a major change in the story’s direction halfway through, it successfully delivers a sad, grim, yet compelling product. As I’ve said before, this game��s plot is a lot to handle. One of my friends described it as “trauma porn” to some extent, and I don’t think he’s wrong. I think the first game’s story moments were a lot more balanced, feeling pretty bittersweet with a believable twist ending, while this one’s is just….bitter, and lest I say for the millionth time, so damn sad. That being said, the actual content of the plot highly outshines whatever superficial concern I have about tonal balance. It’s an impressive exercise in empathy and moral greyness, forcing you to explore a world where such good people are capable of such evil actions, often in each other’s eyes. As you get more and more attached to its characters (often thanks to ridiculously believable writing and great motion capture acting) the more heartbreaking it gets, adding to the game’s impressive storm of melancholy. I think my last observation on the plot is that like Red Dead Redemption 2, where its proper ending is far too unnecessarily drawn out after an intense climax that could’ve been a good ending on its own, but like RDR2, the ‘final battle’ is satisfying enough and true to the game that it just works. The Last of Us Part II is the first game in a while where I’ve yelled at the screen just as much during the cutscenes as I have during gameplay.

         The last aspect of this game I’d like to touch upon is how utterly gorgeous it is. It’s like they saw how pretty Red Dead Redemption 2 was, and said “ok, bet.” The facial animations are so weirdly accurate and detailed that in a lot of cutscenes it just looks like a live action movie rather than a computer-generated environment. There are so many smooth and polished details in this game, such as split-second animations in gameplay, believable enemy dialogue made for you to slightly emphasize with the people you’re shooting at, extreme (yet not over the top) gore when struggling to kill (and getting brutally killed by) enemies, and the most minor character quirks to make them feel believable and “real”. It’s not nearly as seamless of a game as it felt from the E3 trailer, but in an era of hilariously unfinished triple A games, a high is bar knocked out of the park.

The Last of Us Part II is an achievement in video games, whether that be through its technical aspects or its sledgehammerlike narrative and storytelling As a sequel, it, feels pretty similar to play compared the first game, but the more complex and radically different plot, setting, and themes make it a unique and extremely worthy entry to the series, which can fee like a lost art in video games these days. (looking at you Assassin’s Creed and Dishonored 2). I give it a 9/10.