#its the only way for the scene to make sense to me and I'd rather it mean something than nothing

[darilarostarg]

While I think I may have approached it in a much different way, I ultimately see/interpret the Daemon and Alyssa scene as a way of showing that, ever since her death, Daemon has been so completely deprived of nonsexual/unconditional love and affection for so long, that his subconscious is not capable of producing an depiction of any type of love (including matriarchal) of that without it including some form of sexual reciprocation.

Hence his horror when he realises he cannot even remember or accept the love from his mother, who he knows loved him unconditionally, without adding a sexual layer to it.

[fluffylino]

Slow Down Bugboy

you're watching the news when you hear someone outside your window. is it a burgler? is it a ghost? oh wait, its spiderman?!

-contains soft themes (some injuries)

heavily inspired by that one scene from the amazing spiderman.

jisung is so spider coded🕸❤️‍🩹

enjoy~

keyboard clacking while you glued your eyes to the laptop screen. trying to make sense of the words and phrases you needed to write for an english assignment.

for some reason, you just couldn't focus.

maybe it was because jisung hadn't texted you since afternoon. glancing up at the clock to see it was an hour past 10pm.

your eyes now plastered onto the tv screen. the news flashing vividly. headlines popping up one after the other.

<Spider Man was seen fighting the giant reptilian>

<Who is this SpiderMan?>

the news anchor only raised more questions. dwelling into the details of this commotion.

you had mixed opinions on this so called 'man', who shoots webs out of his wrists. you'd rather call him

'weird insect man who crawls up buildings'.

was he a hero? i mean, he seemed like one. do you think you'd ever want to come face to face with him?

maybe? spiderman seemed chill.

anyways jisung!

right. where the hell was he?!

<ji, are you alive?>

.

<message me rn>

.

<are you okay? just mssg me if you're okay>

.

<JISUNG. HAN JISUNG>

.

looking away from your phone. you gulped down the lump in your throat.

was he accidently caught in the whole 'lizard incident' at the school...?

you didn't want to lose your friend. your bestfriend.

<i love you man, please tell me you're fine...>

"spiderman please...im really begging you to protect him if he's hurt" praying under your breath. heart pumping slower than usual while you took deep breaths.

the smell of your mom cooking a late night snack downstairs travelled up to your room. on any other occasion you wouldve eaten like a hog. but right now, you couldn't.

knock knock

soft thud

body taking a screenshot in fright. someone's outside your window. with how dark it is at this time of the night and only the moonlight, you think its a burgler.

That is until you see the silhoette of a masked man. the suit he wears is webbed, with colours of dark blue and red.

knock.

this time he presses his palm flat onto the glass, body slumping.

you throw your laptop on the bed, running to slam your door shut before making your way to the window.

"s-spiderman?" you mumble under your breath.

gasping as the man falls right into your arms. legs still dangling out. a catch a whiff of perfume that instantly makes your brain shortcircuit.

raising an arm to help him get the mask off. the mop of hair gives away his identity.

"sung..."

"han jisung! what the fuck happened to you?!" you exclaim, heart dropping when he rests his head on your shoulder. limply trying to hold onto you.

"i'm...uh s-shit" he mutters, grunting as you hold him up.

he plops onto the couch with a pained groan. you stand there dumbly. too much was happening. 

A heavy scent of blood filling the air. quickly shutting the window before kneeling down by his side.

"are you okay? what happened ji...please tell me"

cupping his face. his eyes widening briefly. shakily bringing his hand up to hold your wrist.

"lizard man VS bugboy...i hurt him more than he h-hurt me..."

even in this state, he finds the time to joke. laughing weakly until he notices the pain in your eyes. not just from seeing him bleed but also from the fact that you weren't aware that he was THE spiderman.

"i'm sorry for coming uninvited...t-there was no where else i'd feel safe"

jisung whispers, nuzzling his cheek apologetically into the warmth of your palm. you can't control your body or your thoughts.

carefully pushing his damp hair away from his eyes. theres a small cut over the bridge of his nose. his bottom lip is busted harshly. he's sweating as you caress him.

clean up his wounds. yes.

right now, what mattered most was stopping the bleeding.

"where are you going..." his voice trails off. puppy like eyes locked onto every little movement.

"sit up....as much as you can"

a soaked towel and disinfectant in your hands. jisung does sit up quietly. its surprising.

"baby it r-really hurts...mh" the boy whispers, staring at you with slight fear.

'baby' was a nickname he often used. but right now, it made your heart do a summersalt. without asking, he begins to take the suit off.

revealing his battered torso. bruises and cuts from the 'battle' he was in.

silence fills the room, apart from the soft hisses leaving his mouth.

hands weakly grabbing at your wrists to pry your hands away from the slash across his abdomen.  stomach muscles rhythmically tightening in discomfort everytime you applied a layer of medicine.

without much thought, you inch closer. feeling his heavy breath right next to your ear. along with a choked out grunt.

lifting your head up slowly, only to meet his gaze.

"i'm sorry for s-showing up like...this"

jisung whispers, scooching closer. your noses nearly touching. lips grazing against eachothers. you hum. far too out of it, to even get mad at him.

knowing he was spiderman put you at peace. knowing that he was safe was all that mattered.

injuries or not, you would take care of him regardless.

"say its okay" he whines softly, pressing his lips innocently onto yours. its too gentle to even be considered a kiss. you can't stop the grin that grows on your face.

realising how much your acceptance of him, mattered to him. sucking in a sharp breath when you peck him with more feeling. the subtle tangy taste of blood flooding your senses. his lip was still sensitive.

butterflies erupting in your stomach when he gently cradles the base of your neck. pulling you in for a deeper kiss.

"easy there bugboy..."

you tease, not letting him have his way. revelling in the toothy grin he lets out. laughing against you.

"i'm not going anywhere"

you reassure, threading your fingers through his hair. moving into his embrace.

"i want chocolate." he blurts out in a hushed tone.

"what-"

pecking you once more. and another time until he doesn't pull away. kissing you slow and passionately. pouring all his emotions out.

maybe spiderman wasn't so bad afterall...

.

.

.

.

.

teehee

[galacticlamps]

ok I have A Lot of thoughts about the staircase confession (well really about Edwin's whole character arc, but all roads lead to rome) but for now I just wanna say that, yes, I was bracing myself for something to go terribly wrong when I first watched it, and yes, part of me was initially worried its placement might be an uncharacteristically foolish choice made in the name of Drama or Pacing or Making a Compelling Episode of Television but at the expense of narrative sense--

But I wanna say that having taken all that into account, and watched it play out, and sat with it - and honestly become rather transfixed by it - I really think it's a beautifully crafted moment and truly the only way that arc could've arrived at such a satisfying conclusion.

And if I had to pinpoint why I not only buy it but also have come to really treasure it, I'd have to put it down to the fact that it genuinely is a confession, and nothing else.

That moment is an announcement of what Edwin has come to understand about himself, but because it takes the form of a character admitting romantic feelings for such a close friend, I think it can be very easy, when writing that kind of thing, to imbue it with other elements like a plea or a request or even the start of a new relationship that, intentionally or not, would change the shape of the moment and can quickly overshadow what a huge deal the telling is all on its own. But that's not the case here. Since it is only a confession, unaccompanied by anything else, and since we see afterward how it was enough, evidently, to fix the strangeness that had grown between him & Charles, we're forced to understand that it was never Edwin's feelings that were actually making things difficult for him - it was not being able to tell Charles about them. 'Terrified' as he's been of this, Edwin learns that his feelings don't need to either disappear completely or be totally reciprocated in order for him to be able to return to the peace, stability, and security of the relationship with which he defines his existence - and the scale of that relief a) tells us a hell of a lot about Edwin as a character and b) totally justifies the way his declaration just bursts out of him at what would otherwise be such a poorly chosen moment, in my opinion.

Whether or not they are or ever could be reciprocated, Edwin's feelings are definitively proven not to be the problem here - only his potential choice to bottle it up - his repression - is. And where that repression had once been mainly involuntary, a product of what he'd been through, now that he's got this new awareness of himself, if he still fails to admit what he's found either to himself or to the one person he's so unambiguously close with, then that repression will be by his own choice and actions.

And he won't do that. Among other things, he's coming into this scene having just (unknowingly) absolved the soul of his own school bully and accidental killer by pointing out a fact that is every bit as central to his self-discovery as anything about his sexuality or his attraction to Charles is: the idea that "If you punish yourself, everywhere becomes Hell"

So narratively speaking, of course it makes sense that Edwin literally cannot get out of Hell until he stops punishing himself - and right now, the thing that's torturing him is something he has control over. It's not who he is or what he feels, but what he chooses to do with those feelings that's hurting him, and he's even already made the conscious choice to tell Charles about them, he was just interrupted. But now that they're back together and he's literally in the middle of an attempt to escape Hell, there is absolutely no way he can so much as stop for breath without telling Charles the truth. Even the stopping for breath is so loaded - because they're ghosts, they don't need to breathe, but also they're in Hell, so the one thing they can feel is pain, however nonsensical. And Edwin certainly is in pain. But whether he knows what he's about to do or not when he says he 'just needs a tick,' a breather is absolutely not what's gonna give him enough relief to keep climbing - it's fixing that other hurt, though, that will.

Like everything else in that scene, there's a lot of layers to him promising Charles "You don't have to feel the same way, I just needed you to know" - but I don't think that means it isn't also true on a surface level. It's the act of telling Charles that matters so much more than whatever follows it, and while that might have gone unnoticed if anything else major had happened in the same conversation, now we're forced to acknowledge its staggering and singular importance for what it is. The moment is well-earned and properly built up to, but until we see it happen in all its wonderful simplicity, and we see the aftermath (or lack thereof, even), we couldn't properly anticipate how much of a weight off Edwin's shoulders merely getting to share the truth with Charles was going to be, why he couldn't wait for a better, safer opportunity before giving in to that desire, or how badly he needed to say it and nothing else - and I really, really love the weight that act of just being honest, seen, and known is given in their story/relationship.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Your Favorite Body - Matias Asbrink

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

On a night in Achroite when snow fell like petals—

Emma: It's so interesting you'll be able to walk through the forest without any light even though it's night.

Matias: Yeah, it's a phenomenon called snowglow. It's when moonlight reflects off a bed of snow and scatters, making its surroundings brighter. After your eyes adjust to it, the snow will look like it has a faint glow and you'll be treated to a splendid, magical scene.

Emma: Hehe, I'm really looking forward to it! Thank you so much for arranging this!

Matias: You're a dear friend and I've been looking forward to seeing it with you.

A few days ago, we had talked about the "beauty of the forest at night", which led to me going out with Prince Matias.

It was still early, so we stopped at a cafe. As we were chatting, Prince Matias suddenly stared at me intently from across the table.

Matias: By the way, do you have clothes for the cold? The forest's cold at night. You'll need to wear more clothes than usual.

Emma: Yes, I have enough. I brought extra layers and also brought the gloves and scarf that you gave me.

Matias: Well that's a relief. Still, just to be safe, let's warm up here.

Prince Matias smiled and sipped his coffee.

I went to grab my cup too when—

Emma: Woah!

The metal cup was hotter than I expected and I pulled my hand back.

The cup ended up flying toward Prince Matias, its contents spilling out...

Emma: P-prince Matias! Are you okay?

Matias: Yeah, I'm fine. How about you?

Emma: I'm fine...I'm so sorry about that!

I rushed over to Prince Matias' side and wiped his coat and shirt with a linen cloth.

(This is bad, it's not coming off at all. And he's pretty wet...)

I didn't give up though, and grabbed his shirt. Snow shadow-colored eyes shifted from side to side.

Matias: ...

Emma: It's hot too. Did you get burned?

Matias: Like I said before, I'm fine. I only got a little wet, it's no problem. [to himself] I never imagined that a fantasy of mine from back when I was a student would come true.

Emma: Hm? I'm glad you didn't get hurt. I'm so sorry for the stain. Please let me give you a replacement next time.

Matias: There's no need. I'm pretty good at cleaning stains since it's something I had to do often while I was a student. However, it won't be good to go into the forest like this.

(That's true. He'll freeze right away with wet clothes)

Emma: Then let's cancel our outing today.

(It's unfortunate, but it's better than Prince Matias catching a cold)

Matias: No, I'd rather not. I know—

--

After leaving the cafe, Prince Matias took me to a nearby inn.

Matias: If I air them out in a warm room, they'll dry faster. We still have some time. Let's stay here for a while. This inn's a favorite of mine.

Matias sounded pretty cheerful and didn't blame me at all.

(He's so nice)

My chest warmed at the thought as I headed toward the back of the room.

Emma: I'll light the lamps.

Matias: No, hold on...I'll light this candle.

(This candle?)

Prince Matias picked up a candle from a shelf nearby and lit it with a sense of familiarity.

The room was immediately bathed in a warm light and the intricate decorations on the candle holders stood out.

Emma: ...Amazing.

Matias: Do you like it?

Emma: Yes, it's reeeally lovely! I was looking forward to seeing the snowglow, but this is a magical scene too...thank you for bringing me here.

Matias: Yeah. Even thought part of our original plan, I'm glad I got to see this with you.

His snow shadow-colored eyes narrowed slowly with his calm smile.

His soft smile was so captivating that I forgot how to breathe.

(I'm not sure why...but my heart's suddenly beating really fast)

While I was trying to calm my heart down, Prince Matias reached up to his shirt—

Emma: ...Prince Matias!

Matias: Hm, what's wrong?

(I was just about to faint from how charming his expression was, and now he's stripping!)

Flustered, I turned away, but that didn't calm me down.

Matias: Miss Emma, what's wrong?

Emma: ...You suddenly started taking your clothes off and it surprised me...

Matias: I have to take them off if I want them to dry.

Matias spoke calmly, oblivious to my internal panicking.

Matias: Like I said back at the cafe, my clothes would often get dirty while I was a student. When you put mischievous boys together, chaos happens...

(...I get it now. This is something Prince Matias is used to)

(And doing this is fine for him since we're friends, despite being of different genders)

I took deep breaths to calm my heart...

Matias: Miss Emma, are you okay?

He appeared from behind me and I jolted in surprise.

Emma: I-I-I-I'm fine! So...

(This is bad. If Prince Matias keeps getting closer while radiating all that charm, I'm going to...)

I backed away hastily and ended up stumbling back onto the bed.

Emma: Ah...

Matias: ...You're not fine at all. There's obviously something wrong with you.

Prince Matias got on the bed and sat beside me.

While I looked at his worried, snow shadow-colored eyes, a long hand instantly reached toward me.

A large palm touched my forehead and Prince Matias' furrowed his brows.

Matias: You do feel a bit hot. Shall I light more lamps?

Though I was thankful for his concern, I disagreed.

(...I'm definitely blushing. I can't let him see me like this)

Emma: Please don't...Um, just leave them as is...

The way I said those words was like I was imploring him and Prince Matias stared at me.

Matias [to himself]: It's like my fantasies with my consort have become a reality.

(I was dizzy and couldn't think straight)

(...I can't avoid this anymore. I'm already at my limit. I have to be honest with him...)

Making up my mind, I looked into his snow shadow-colored eyes and opened my mouth.

Emma: I'm embarrassed! ...You're just too alluring right now...

Matias: Alluring?

Emma: Yes...My heart was already racing from how sexy you are, and then when you started undressing, I couldn't look at you anymore...

Prince Matias looked stunned and dipped his head slightly with a serious look.

Matias: ...I-I see. I...wasn't being considerate. Sorry. I'm aware that you're not like my schoolmates, but...

Emma: No, I'm sorry I can't act normally.

Matias: Miss Emma, please don't apologize. It's my fault for being inconsiderate. Besides, you're far too—

Emma: Far too...?

Matias: ...Nevermind, it's nothing. In any case, the fault's mine. ...(<_<)

(I can't tell since it's dark, but is Prince Matias feeling a little embarrassed?)

Matias: I'm not sure why, but...when I'm with you, I experience these feelings that I don't with other women.

Emma: ...I might be the same. And not just today, but when I'm with you, I sometimes get these strange feelings... Ah, do you hate it when people think about you like this?

Matias: When you say strange feeling, do you mean a "distasteful" feeling?

Emma: N-no!

Matias: Then it's okay. I don't mind if you think of me like that. Rather...

Prince Matias cut himself off and smiled happily.

That smile was filled with so much more allure than I had ever experienced before.

(My heart's pounding too fast for me to think about anything else)

(And yet it's odd how comforting it is)

For the time being, in this candlelit dream-like room, I stared at Prince Matias and forgot about everything else.

I'm never sure if I should translate 色香 as charming, alluring, or sexy

[bonkbobl]

beautiful fool

ROOSE BOLTON X READER | PART 2

a/n: wait okay i didn't mean to fall down this rabbit hole but roose bolton can get it i dont really care. genuinely sometimes i forget that hes a bad... bad bad bad man. he has that flavor of bad thats just so alluring though i cant resist. i forget that the boltons often torture people for fucks and giggles but rewatching the scene where roose just fucks with jamies head for no reason other than thinking it might be funny made me think to what lengths would he go for something he actually wants. warning that its unedited and unplanned and this is more or less a train of thought fic.

summary: he had to have you. whatever it takes.

warning: REALLY explicit, major dubious consent, honestly headed toward straight noncon. very problematic trope of being forced to fuck but then enjoying it. forced marriage. id say dark roose but lowkey this is pretty in character for this bad bad bad man bad man. bad man.

Your heart raced out of your chest, fear even threatening to bubble and explode out of your throat. You almost got away. You nearly escaped. And here you were, tackled into the mud just by the river by men who wanted to hurt you. Hurt you and whatever was left of your family.

The men who whispered taunts in your ear as they tied your hands behind your back laughed. These were the same men who just two days ago invited the woman who you call mother and the man who was like a brother to you into their home to feast and murdered them.

You knew they'd send out a hunting party after you. But you thought swimming in the water might throw them off your scent. You weren't so lucky.

And as they dragged you back, the words of those men rang ominously through your head, "It's too bad the lord wants her untouched. I'd very much like to touch this one."

A lurking feeling told you that you'd probably have preferred to fall into the river and crack your head open on some jagged rock than find out what use the Lord of the Dreadfort had for you.

------------------

"What happens if I refuse," You asked, lifting your chin in defiance, as much defiance as you could manage with your arms tied behind your back.

Roose tilted his head at you almost like he was amused that you'd even think you have a say in the matter in the first place. "Then I'll put a bastard baby in you," he responded, his frankness and lack of shame sending cool shivers down your back. "And once the bastard is born I'll put another in you."

You couldn't help the frustrated tears that pooled in your eyes and you ripped your gaze away from him, fear bubbling in your chest and making you feel sick.

"Whore of Winterfell, or Lady Bolton. It's your decision, love."

Ever since that conversation you had pondered how likely it is you'd make it even a few miles before you were captured, either by Bolton hunters or the Ironborn. Either would be unpleasant. You wondered if you could find a way to just be done with it all and join your ward family in the seven heavens rather than fight. But you knew you could never bring yourself to. You were one of the living, through and through. You had to run.

And plan, you did, but no opportunity came. It was only a matter of time before you were put in a pretty white dress and brought under a Godswood to speak your vows to the man who betrayed your true king.

All you could think was why. Why cant he just let you go. You have no legitimate claim that could threaten him. You're not a stark. You're just a girl. You don't come from a large family. Not one of influence. There are no banners to raise. No substantial actions you could take against the new wardens of the north. You were more likely to die trying to run north than you were to be any kind of threat.

------------------

It wasn't like Roose to hold affections for any particular person. It was rare for him to even feel a vague sense of fondness towards anyone. A person is useful and competent. If they aren't then at best they are a nuisance that he could do without, at worst a threat to the Bolton name.

But you.

You were every bit as much a fool as the man who took you in as a ward, and that same mans son who grew up with you. You fretted over honor and doing the right thing when your enemies would not pay a second thought. You argued in favor of the late Queen Talisa's insistence on helping both Northern and Royal forces, allocating countless coppers toward medicating the enemy.

You aggravated Roose to no end when you first began to speak out. And yet he found that his eyes would always meet yours, rake downward against his will really. And though it only added to his aggravation, he brushed those feelings aside as the natural desires of a man.

He, in no way, found you difficult to gaze upon. It was infuriating, even more so that you seemed to understand the effect you had on men, flirting about with the son of Karstark and joking crudely with the men as if you weren't a lady to be respected.

And yet he found a stirring in him when you'd make an innuendo that was a little too risque.

He soon found it difficult to not think of you. Especially when you, the beautiful fool, revealed yourself to be of a sharper mind than even the King in moments.

"I love Talisa, truly, but think about it, Robb. You may be winning battles right now. But if you become too close to her, your closest advisors may falter. You risk losing the war."

"We have little food to sustain the rest of the camp, perhaps it'd do the Northern cause some good to do something about the overflowing kennels. As distasteful as it is to execute so many."

"Karstark will be avenged if you go through with this, please Robb. His forces make up a third of ours. Think. Think about it, I beg you."

Roose was irked by the fact that he agreed with you on more occasions than not, but he was impressed nevertheless. And it only kept you on his mind more. No, it wasn't love, Roose was sure of it, it erred more on the side of an intrigue that escalated to the point of near obsession. You were, after all, young, beautiful, thoughtful, and you held a level head. More strong than his first wife, less stiff and rigid than his second. More alluring and exciting than both.

The way Roose saw it, Robb Stark was becoming more dangerous to the interests of the North, growing increasingly reckless as the war went on. It was really his duty to usurp the so called King in the North, whod surely lead all the great Northern Houses to extinction if this masquerade continued on. You, however, would be a great loss if you were to drown alongside the wolf.

A great loss, indeed. Not to any higher purpose, you were not from any significant house. No, you just deserved to live. It baffled Roose to know he felt that way about any one person. But he reasoned it's simply because he wants you for himself. His pretty little wife — you'd fit that role so well.

He even remembered the way the old Lord Frey cackled when he stated his intentions with you.

"Marry any of my daughters and I will give you her weight in silver, My Lord. An offer of good faith and my grandson shall become Warden of the North."

"I'm honored by the offer, believe me. But I already have a prize that I've set my eyes on."

Frey's eyebrows arched in amusement.

"The Stark Ward," Bolton answered the unspoken question.

And the old man laughed, harder than a man his age should be able to, and sure enough his joy was cut short by a few uncouth coughs. "Pretty slut. I cannot say I blame you, Lord Bolton. I'm embarrassed I didn't think to take that pretty thing as my spoils before you did."

Roose offered a polite smile and hum, "I'll wed one of your children or perhaps grandchildren to whatever child I will have with my new wife."

Frey chuckled, nodding, "Hm, expect me to remember such a promise, my lord..." Then with a sardonic smirk, the lecherous old man spoke again, "Eh, I assume you aren't the type of man to like to share, are you, Lord Bolton."

And Roose's smile dropped into a hard glare. Frey laughed again, waving him off.

"A joke," he reassured, "Alright. After we kill the boy and his mum, you keep the whore. I cant wait to see how you deign to tame the bitch."

------------------

The very same halls you grew up in echoed terribly as your husband led you to the chambers you would share. The Lords chambers. You remember running to this very room to pester your Lord and Lady, sometimes Sansa or her older brother running alongside you.

Lord Bolton hardly spoke a word to you. All the better, for you could not bear to look at him. All those months of sitting across him as both of you counseled the proclaimed King in the North, and you thought you knew the man. You even admired him, vied for his approval. You thought him to be intelligent, more clear headed than the men that are easily driven by anger or lust and other vices of men. You'd smile to yourself on the occasions he'd agree with you or appear to approve of your advise.

To be honest, you thought Lord Bolton had no such love or affection toward you, especially in the very beginning when he wouldn't even stop to regard you, or he'd clearly speak over you, brush you aside, advise your king the opposite of the words you'd spoken. You thought he saw you as a mere child, playing at king and hand like you and Robb would as babes.

Now you think he really must have hated you. You wonder how long he hated Robb, and all the Starks, all their allies. But you, he must have hated you especially. Why he would feel the need to subject you to the greatest torture of living with him, being bred by him, carrying child after child, you wondered why why why. Why does he hold so much resentment toward a young girl. He must be a sad man.

You suddenly realized he was staring at you, watching your teary eyes, your clenched jaw, your shaky breath. You stared him in his cold eyes, defiant. Though you knew it was useless. You knew what would come next. He made it clear.

Whore of Winterfell, or Lady Bolton.

Was there any difference?

For Lady Bolton, the children you bear him would be heirs rather than bastards. For Lady Bolton, you'd have a title, your "honor" in tact. But everything that mattered would remain the same. Youd take him nightly. You could only hope for him to cease his visits once a babe has taken to your belly

"Lady Bolton," your husband commanded your attention.

You faced him, inches away from the bed. He towered over you and you did your best at a feeble attempt to not let him intimidate you. You were scared. You wanted to be strong but the thought of what was to come next was scaring you. There's no escape.

"Lord Bolton," you replied, nothing but spite in your tone.

He breathed a humorous scoff, shaking his head slightly, "Undress yourself," he said, barely above a whisper, challenging you by tilting his head to the side. His eyes were so cold, barely feeling. You'd not be surprised if he told you he wasn't human.

Swallowing, you began unlacing your dress, attempting to remain hard as steal. But a tear finally trickled down your face when his hand reached up to cup it.

Your fingers stalled to a halt when he leaned in to kiss the tear, an action that would be comforting from any other man but you knew he meant to mock you. This was meant to be humiliating. He doesn't care for you. He kisses your tears away to remind you he doesn't care. He might even like it. Stop crying.

But you couldn't. You squeaked out a small sob as his lips came down to meet yours, hungry and demanding. Your shaky breath let out a heavy sigh through your nose and the feeling of fear strangely extinguished from your chest for a moment. Instead, your chest rose and you met him in his kiss.

His lips were surprisingly soft, his tongue felt dirty in your mouth but you couldn't explain why you didn't want to bite it off and spit it out. Instead you felt helpless and you let his tongue roam your mouth with little to no fight. When he pulled away from you, a string of spit tried desperately to keep the two of you connected but smacked against your chin after a mere second.

Your breath was heavy, cheeks wet with tears, flushed and probably looking a mess. You didn't want to imagine it. The vague sense of disgust with yourself remained but it just felt slightly different. You didn't know how to place it. It stirred rather pleasantly in your lower tummy and you felt really tense down there.

"I will repeat this command. But for the future, I want it to be known that I don't enjoy repeating myself. Undress yourself."

You heard his words clearly and allowed him to kiss you again. Your fingers clumsily and hurriedly worked at your dress. You stripped yourself bare as he did as he liked, kissing, nipping at your lips. His hands explored the new inches of your body as they became more and more exposed to him.

They roamed over your back, and back in front to cup your soft tits, weighing them, toying with your nipple... roamed back down your back, squeezing your firm ass. You couldn't place the feeling, you couldn't place it. You didn't like the feeling. You wanted it to stop. And yet if he pulled away you felt as if you might lean back into his touch inexplicably. You'd hate it but you'd go back for more.

Whenever he groped you a little too hard, you'd whine without even realizing it and Roose's pleasure would grow. Once you were fully naked, you grew awkward, not knowing what to do with your hands so you backed toward the bed. But he followed.

The rough fabric of his clothes felt harsh against your soft skin. You had nothing to do but whimper again and when you turned your head away, he simply let you, instead taking the opportunity to finally look at you, his little wife. Beautiful, clever, stubborn little wife.

You ducked your head, crying, confused at the way you felt, confused as to why you weren't fighting him harder. And that spurred you to begin.

Roose realized you weren't fighting him the second he kissed you and he shared your confusion for a second until he felt your tongue caressing his in reciprocation. He's sure you hadn't even fully realized your own actions as you had rushed to comply with his orders.

He half expected you to be a shy blushing bride but this reminded him that you were a little of a tease with Robbs men, cracking nasty jokes that a lady should not have been aware of. You were no blushing bride. In fact, you were a bit of a slut. A tease.

And suddenly, it struck him that the behavior hadn't so much aggravated him in the way that he thought. In fact the memory of you flirting with those men who were now burried in the ground or thrown into the river, gave him this strong sense of accomplishment to have you here.

Roose began undoing his trousers, unsheathing himself to your horror and you pushed him away, escaping the only way you were permitted, crawling on the bed and trying to get over to the other side. Roose was too fast, grabbing your ankle and pulling you down.

You fell but you kicked him in the chest and he laughed, dropping your ankle, but only so he could grasp your hips firmly and pull you back along the edge of the bed.

"Down, girl," he commanded, as if you were a dog.

You cried, clawing at anywhere to escape to. But he was right behind you and as you looked around, you knew it was hopeless. Still the fight burned on in your chest. Then you heard a smack and a sharp pain in your buttock, jolting you under your husband.

Another one came because you refused to calm yourself, then his hand slipped between your thighs and he spanked you again as another feeble warning.

"My lady," He started, waiting for you to calm finally before chuckling. Then your torturer informed you of something, no doubt to break your spirits, "Are you aware, Lady Bolton, how wet your cunt is?"

His rough weathered fingers rubbed at your entrance, barely pushing in and sure enough the sound of your slick being rubbed and spread around, filled your ears. Your fists balled the sheets under it and your legs helplessly kicked up, though with no purpose. You couldn't get away. From him. From your shame. From your body's betrayal.

"Your womb is begging me to fill it. You feel it, don't you?" He taunted, "You're confused, aren't you. Stupid, confused, little wife."

His fingers slipped away and you fought to catch your breath, fists relaxing because he stopped. But then his fingers were replaced by something thicker and hotter and your struggle resumed. Your hips squirming but all it did was slicken his cockhead for an easier entrance.

"Let me clear your confusion, stupid little wife." Roose cooed to you, the tone of his voice unfitting of the cruel words. "You are exactly where you belong. Under your husband, serving your husband. The Warden of the North. There's no need to fight your fate or fight your pleasure as you are exactly where you belong."

Then he began pushing into you and your toes clenched, back arching inexplicably. The new angle that you provided made it easier. You knew it didn't make sense but it made perfect sense to Roose, who chuckled behind you, smacking your ass, this time not in displeasure but as a praise. Your body twitched at it, cunt squeezing and pulsing around him as if it were trying to suck it in.

Your moans grew more wanton as he pushed in torturously slow. And of course it hurt, stung, when he forced past your maidenhead but you couldn't even bring yourself to squirm away from that. You were rightfully his.

When his hips met yours, he just held himself buried inside you for a few seconds and you continued to contract and twitch around him, small squeaks of confusion escaping your throat against your will. You couldn't stop squirming. The sensation of something so big filling you stirred you uncontrollably.

A hand trailed down your thigh, nudging it upward and you followed the movement, allowing him to prop your leg up on the bed. Then he began thrusting and your face heated up when you heard just how wet you were. Each time his hips pressed flush against you, youd feel the cool sensation of your slick on his balls.

It was all so vivid. Even if you couldn't see what was going on behind you. You knew. And the most shameful noises forced past your throat as your husband fucked you deeply and slowly.

"Listen to yourself," Roose muttered, hands coming up to grab your shoulders.

It allowed him to hammer deeper and harder into you, the sharpness of his thrusts contrasting the slow strokes he started with. You cried out, shameful but you were horrified to find that you did not want him to stop. Not when he was... oh his cock was hitting something inside you. Deep inside you.

"Keep making those noises, darling wife. I cant tell if I enjoy your pleasure more or your tears."

You cried out, a small sob at the end of it. And despite your better judgement, you turned your head to look at your husband. Your naked body contrasted so much with his garments, which stayed mostly unmoved. Only his pants and breeches were pulled down to his mid thigh.

His expression hardened upon evaluating your features. There was nothing more beautiful, your lips parted in a pleasure that confused you. The tears had dried by now but your hair was a mess and your eyes swollen and pinkish. Not to mention the way you were splayed out beneath him. He landed a firm spank to your buttocks again, aiming to leave marks.

You whimpered, eyebrows coming together as your pussy clamped down around him. Roose grabbed your hip that was propped higher than the rest of your body due to your leg that was positioned on the bed. And he used that hip as leverage to pull your body into him.

The confusion within you turned to fear when an unfamiliar feeling began building within you. You cried out loudly and involuntarily clamped down even harder around him, pulsing uncontrollably as he jackhammered into you ruthlessly, intensifying when his hands abandoned your hips for your neck.

You couldn't help but feel as if you were reduced to a little object. He could grab you wherever and however he wanted and pull you against his cock and you had nowhere to run and yet you couldn't even deign to lift your legs and kick at him. You surrendered to the smallness that he made you feel, cries and distress replaced by whimpers and submission.

You came to find your body shaking and convulsing with a blinding kind of pleasure. Even your moans died into a breathy, shaky sigh, back arching as you sank further into the sheets beneath you. Your lord gave no sign of stopping, another self satisfied hum rumbling from his chest.

"Good, so good, darling. I knew you would come to enjoy your new position."

And with that you were filled again with shame, though not yet strong enough to overshadow the stubborn pleasure which muted any feelings that might incite discomfort. You especially could not feel displeased when your husband firmly snapped his hips into you, releasing a grunt. He continued to pump into you, slowly but firmly. sighing along with his thrusts. It was the only compromise in composure that he allowed you to see and you were only sure at this point that he was finished with you.

Surprisingly the spilling of his seed didn't feel like much but your cunt squeezed him, as if it was aware. And you felt satisfaction wash over you, as if your body was also aware.

To your shock and shame, your ass gyrated beneath him, rolling itself against him to fully milk him for all he had to offer you. And you hid your face, pausing once you realized.

After recovering from his release, Roose watched you closely, appreciating the way you still squirmed, restless. You moved your leg back down to the floor and pushed back, hips meeting his and your cunt convulsed again around him due to the overstimulation. He stood like a barrier, looming over you a he rested his hands on the edge of the bed where your hips were and your restless little cunt continued to twitch and pulse as you tried to compose yourself desperately.

You breathed deeply but it was hopeless. You could not walk away with your dignity, fully aware of how Lord Bolton stared upon his Lady Bolton, satisfied with how you gave into him so easily.

You shivered and your breath hitched when he landed a kiss to your shoulder blade. Then you sighed, settling down again for him. And a needy whimper confirmed your submission.

Roose loomed over you, giving you another small kiss on your temple.

"You did well, my lady."

The approval got to you. Your days on Robbs counsel trying your best to say anything intelligent that would make him accept you as an equal. It all led you to this moment. But you never did accomplish your goal of being viewed as an equal, at least it didn't feel that way in this moment. His softening cock still inside you, the only thing stopping his spend from trickling down your leg. Oh the shame of it all.

"I'm pleased to find that you enjoyed it as much as I did."

"No," You protested but in your voice you could tell you didn't even believe yourself.

Lord Bolton merely laughed. And you whimpered again, willing yourself to sink into the bed and disappear. Then your husband pulled back and spread your ass cheeks apart, giving you a lengthy thrust. Though he was not as hard as he was moments ago, the movement was enough to make you shiver.

"Then we should try again in a half mark of an hour. I shall train my lady wife to welcome me into her bed."

You bit the inside of your mouth to prevent another whimper but it was ripped from you when Lord Bolton spanked you again.

Oh yes, Roose Bolton would commit a thousand betrayals and massacre a hundred false Kings if it meant he'd end up with you, here, to warm his bed.

[theoddest1]

Okay so, ima type in what I typed to my friend here.

"Yeah Ima be so dead ass. ||Mel and Ekko carried the final for me, ESPECIALLY Ekko."

Yeah, they should have just kept [Viktor] being Ryze. That made more sense to me than whatever this is. And I am all for mlm rep, but yeah, this felt WAY too, Jayvikky. I liked it better that they were brothers to parallel Vander and Silco, who also found each other and became bros, but it seemed like they went with how popular JayVik was and stuck with it. And Jayce being strung with Viktor for wherever they went felt...kinda nonsensical. I'd rather that Viktor was thwarted and too far gone to then just suddenly have a change of heart and go with Jayce. I imagined that he would have a contingency where he, incase his body was destroyed, would then later rise again to try and enact "Glorious Evolution". It would go well with the themes of his beliefs anyway because every time he dies, he comes back stronger in a new body. I feel like that would better set the ongoing conflict and fit well with the game and why he looks the way he does currently.

I also don't like how quick he and Mel's reunion was considering how much he favored her along with his odd and sudden dislike for her decisions-- Seriously, where did that even come from!?"

[Thought it over further. Him calling her out on her actions isn't the issue. It's the timing and how this transpires that confuses me. He just came from a post-apocalyptic world where Mel, Viktor, and everything else came to mind. The lack of time for them to truly talk made the scene felt out of nowhere and not at all fleshed out. He goes on to place part of the blame on her when literally it wasn't. She DID manipulate but only politically. Everything else was on he and Viktor. Then, when he DOES confront Viktor, the vibes are different. Viktor hurt and caused a chain of events that led to several lives being taken to ensure survival and his "Glorious Evolution", why is this essentially overlooked? Maybe when I review this again, it will make more sense, but as of now, the way Jayce treats both Mel and Viktor is VERY questionable.]

"I would have been pretty happy if He at least gave her a hug, a kiss, something to make their relationship seem consistent with what we were shown. I know that he's been gone for a while and a lot more cold, but this was a very odd direction to go with. I am super happy about Cait and Mel fighting side by side and that Mel may be the main character for a new Noxus related show! [Which I knew they'd set up!] but this series, after seeing it in its entirety, DID suffer too much from the pacing issues. I assumed at the First Act that it was quick paced to go with how they've all been shifted into places they didn't see coming, but the pacing issues continued to bring down the quality. 3 seasons would have made way more sense and would go well with the 3 ACT formula they had used. I hope they learn from this and refrain from making similar mistakes.

[I responded to my friend who posted these images above] I knew they'd make a callback to this line eventually, and I am genuinely surprised people are not catching this obvious set up to Jinx living. Also, I am betting that Heimer did "die" but only that alternate version of himself. [Though obviously I could be wrong, though a life of various lifetimes where he helps each version of the main cast sounds very Heimerdinger of him, especially since he didn't wanna leave.]

The biggest letdown for me has to be Jayce and Viktor's story. It just...doesn't make sense with what we have been shown. Also, if Viktor KNOWS bad shit would happen when bringing Hextech to life and all, why TF would he give it to Jayce then???? Or if he STILL wanted magic to be tampered with shy doesn't he comvince himself in a way HE KNOWS would prevent what happens next, surely NOT EVERY timeline has it where you continue on the path of destruction! You see what I mean!?!? Leave the time crap to Ekko, man. This new inclusion makes no sense! And he does this in VARIOUS timeliness for some reason. Man, I wish it was just a random ass mage or Ryze, this added stuff kinda kills the finale for me🫠

I feel that making Viktor time travel ruins a huge aspect of the story, ngl, especially when Jayce argues that people can "craft their own path." The story also shouldn't have ended with what I could only assume both of them "dying" or traversing time instead. Also, the way Sky was treated and essentially replaced with Jayce feels....very very weeeeird."

[I believe that the ending just didn't land that well. I feel, now thinking over every character, Ekko, Mel, and Jinx carried this season HEAVY. These 3 were the most interesting parts of the season, honorable mention being Singed cause he be doing what he MUST. Also, what was the point of introducing Loris if all he was gonna end up being was a random guy who reminded Vi of Vander? I guess nothing is wrong with this, but when you're already stringing for time, these inclusions make no sense... I liked him, though, RIP Loris🤧. Oh, and Caut barely facing consequences is KINDA CRAZY but it goes with the themes of forgiveness/ acceptance. The Cycle would never end, after all, but yeah Vi and Cait made up WAY too fast and just shows that this needed another season. Let me know your thoughts!]

[drconstellation]

First-Order Archangels

Part 1: Maybe You'll Spot An Archangel

GABRIEL: I told you you could ask. However, I am the only First-Order archangel in the room, or, you know, the Universe, so I'm not gonna answer so much. But you feel free to knock yourself out with all the asking.

While I was writing my meta series The Passion Of Jimbriel it became fairly obvious to me there was something more going on between Crowley and Gabriel in S2 than just the numerous pointers to Crowley's pre-fall angel status. They are acting as both parallels and foils to each other, and in places you can swap their characters and get the same story at a different time – and that just opens up a whole new window of context and insight into things. For pre-reading, see this meta from @vidavalor that nicely lists some obvious parallels. It doesn’t mention everything though, so I’m going to discuss parts in more detail.

A foil is a character who contrasts with the protagonist, to highlight or differentiate certain qualities between the characters. Crowley and Gabriel do this because they have come from essentially the same place, and share some story elements, but they still end up in different places.

There is a lengthy original discussion about Crowley's pre-fall angel status here, for pre-reading. It points out the obvious and some not so obvious points that ops have noticed in S2 telling us about Crowley's pre-fall status. Rather than just go through them all again, I'd like to look at some other scenes in S2 that also tell us something about both the similarities and the differences between these two high-powered entities as I go along. In addition, I’ve done a series of posts looking at Gabriel as a shoulder angel (links at the end of post,) because quite often he’s on the demonic left-hand side – which makes sense when you realize he’s a Crowley parallel.

Take the arrival of Gabriel to Whickber St and the bookshop. I’ve already mentioned this parallel story line a couple of times now, but lets look at it again in more detail. It mirrors the opening of S1E1 where the serpent climbs the wall of the Garden of Eden, morphs into a demon and starts to converse with the angel standing on the wall.

Back in the present day, we have a Gabriel, who also tends to present on the sinister-side, walking up to the gate of the present day Garden (the bookshop), which is still guarded by the same angel as it was 6000 years ago, and basically tells Aziraphale he has “fallen.”

How to we know this? It is a reference to the Fall of Man, when Adam and Eve ate the apple the serpent offered them, they suddenly became aware of their nakedness, and hid from God. Gabriel has already upset the love-apple tomato cart on his way to the door of the bookshop, its a sign of the chaos to come.

The fallen angel is not sure of his name, so he prompts with a question…

And asks for shelter under the (reluctant) angel’s wing..

But there is one thing he does know, the one thing that drew him to Aziraphale in the first place:

AZIRAPHALE: Then why did you come to my shop? GABRIEL: I don't know. I just thought I should. You know what it's like when you- when you don't know anything at all, and yet you're totally certain that everything would be better if you were just near one particular person?

Later, Aziraphale realizes that he must give Gabriel a new name to hide him – because fallen angels take on a new name, don’t they? Just like Crowley did.

Then we get a confession:

Which is what Crowley loves about Aziraphale as well - that bit of unpredictability, because you know how humour kind of works? It throws the unexpected at you.

Early on in S2 we find out they are both in trouble: first His Royal Smugness, then Our Hero himself. Our view is turned upside down, with the angel made the bad guy and the demon the good guy who needs to win. But both of them are being hunted by Shax.

Then we get one of the early clues pointing to Crowley's high status as an angel:

SHAX: A miracle of enormous power happened last night. The kind of miracle only the mightiest of Archangels could've performed. CROWLEY: Mm? SHAX: Somewhere very close to your friend's bookshop. Are you telling me you don't know what caused it? CROWLEY: How'd you know I didn't do it?

Shax stalks and threatens both of them, sometimes at the same time:

Another parallel Gabriel and Crowley shared in S2 were associating their identity - no, lets rephrase that - "essence" was one description I've seen - with boxes.

Gabriel arrives with a box that strategically covers his front, and quickly tosses it aside once Aziraphale opens the door to the bookshop. It lies forgotten until Gabriel mentions it a while later. Inside it is the fly from Beelzebub - an object from Hell - so it really needs to be 'invited' across the threshold of the bookshop by Aziraphale to be able to enter. The box initially appears to be empty, Once inside, the fly is free to roam. It has a message written on one side of it.

The same goes for the matchbox. Message included.

ah, wot? you say. Yep.

The matchbox represents Crowley, probably in more ways than one, but I'll just go through the stuff relevant to this meta here.

I notice I'm not the only op to connect the line from the Book of Job on the side of the matchbox with Crowley. The line is from Verse 41, which talks about Leviathan. Among the various shapes it is described to take is a great sea serpent. This deserves its own meta for further discussion, which I plan to do after this one, because yes, Crowley is Leviathan in disguise, but there is much more to it than that. But for now, just know that the matchbox is Crowley.

Once you know this, it makes sense that Muriel finds it - a discarded cardboard box by the front door to Heaven - and deals with a material object that shouldn't by rights exist in Heaven. Then a certain demon finds Muriel lurking outside during the siege on the bookshop at the end of S2E5, and talks them into letting the certain demon be escorted up into Heaven where he doesn't belong, where he's free to roam around - only he needs a guide because he's not sure where to go. Ah Muriel, you poke the Serpent, he's going to poke you back. Good thing he likes you, and it just was a gentle nudge.

Two empty boxes, two cases of memory-loss. That is what S2 seems to suggest to us at first glance.

Gabriel's seems to be the most straight forward in hindsight - find the fly and restore Gabriel to his original "Gabriel-ness." But its more complicated than that. When pushed to remember, his lilac eyes return and another voice can be heard speaking through him of the past. This happens twice, with the second one being part-prophecy. What is really triggering these episodes of channeling? Is it God or someone else speaking through him? We really aren't sure at this point in time.

Then there are questions around Crowley's memory. Did he have his memory wiped when he fell? Was it wiped repeatedly? Was it not wiped at all, and he just pretends he doesn't remember? Neil has even said he is an unreliable narrator about his own Fall, so who are we to trust at this point? Crowley does seem to understand in the end some of the problems Gabriel is having with his absent memories and that brings them to a temporary truce.

Both Aziraphale and Michael inspect their respective "empty" boxes, and neither notices anything obviously amiss. Gabriel's box just seems empty to Aziraphale, he takes no notice of the fly container in there, and archangel Michael tentatively inspects the matchbox brought to them by Muriel but nothing seems out of place there either.

Crowley's change in costume in Heaven during his little infiltration caper with Muriel is also another clue to his past status as an archangel. He has a silvery-gray suit, similar in style to Saraqael's to reinforce the link with them, but at the same time he is also mocking the other archangels and their elite status. We've assumed for a while now that the appearance of the tactical turtleneck signals that Crowley is up to something sneaky or spy related, but I'm starting to think it also relates to a bit of a power play (and Crowley certainly laid the power on for Mr Brown in the pub!) Looking back at S1, Gabriel's not adverse to wearing one either when he needs to be at his worst (or best. Your choice.)

The way one dresses is a way of expressing and reinforcing authority, and its something both Gabriel and Crowley do without much thought. They have been used to being in a position of power and/or independent authority for much of their existence, and I would say that even if Crowley is a few steps down now from where he started, and he's more cautious around those higher ranking than him than he used to be, he still retains that knowledge of what its like to be at the top.

Crowley's usual near all-black costume is a form of power dressing in itself. Whether is was in the past, when black was an expensive color to buy and maintain in clothing, or in the present day, we are still respectful of those in a stylish cut of black.

Gabriel's impeccable tailoring as Supreme Archangel also commands respect. So it's no wonder that one of Gabriel's first requests on regaining his memories was to ask for new clothes! He wasn't just being the vain archangel we believe him to be (although, I think there is still some of that) you also need to consider the elements of the reference characters that went into his shop assistant character: Granville, the belittled shop assistant nephew from the sitcom Open All Hours, who got stuck with all the shop duties from his uncle and felt like life was passing him by, and the silly Monty Python gumbies, that complained of hurting brains - lovable and much loved characters, but not ones you'd really want to be forever. We all want to be loved, but we want to be respected as well.

For all his fierce posturing around Gabriel, there is a brief moment in S2E3 where Crowley backs down and treats Gabriel as an equal - and that is reflected in a change of dress as well. His outside jacket off and sleeve-garters on, Crowley sports a look we haven't seen since S1 when he was home alone in his Mayfair flat. He patiently explains gravity to a curious Gabriel and then describes his "Operation Lovebirds" plan to his puzzled companion. He admits he hasn't "done weather in ages." It's just a quiet, charming moment, watching two ex-archangels get along together.

You're smiling, aren't you?

This meta continues in Part 2: Foils of War, where the differences between Gabriel and Crowley get explored in more detail, and how Aziraphale and Beelzebub act as mirrors to each other a few times as well.

This meta is part of a series on Gabriel: Gabriel as a Shoulder Angel: S1 Study S2 Study Part 1: Ep.1 The Arrival and Ep. 2 The Clue S2 Study Part 2: Ep.3 I Know Where I'm Going and Ep. 5 The Ball S2 Study Part 3: Ep.6 Every Day

First-Order Archangels Part 2: Foils of War

First-Order Archangels Part 3: Seeing Eye to Eye

[fogdraws]

A Softening of The Brain

A Sherlock Holmes fanfiction based in "The Valley of Fear"

“John.” The sound of my first name stopped me on my tracks; Holmes never used it, as did the costume go. “Would you be afraid,” he whispered, “to sleep in the same bed of a lunatic, a man with a softening of the brain, an idiot whose mind has lost its grip?” This could have so many implications, so many ways to interpret it, but no matter what sense I made of it, there was only one answer. “Not in the least,” I said with some difficulty, regaining the breath I had lost before. “Sherlock, I'd never leave you.” That, I turned to regret just after it came out of my lips — too revealing. Or... what if that scene from the canon had another meaning? One that's more... romantic.

Or... Read it down here! vvvv

It were odd times, the days I'd passed at Birlstone, investigating the murdering of Mr. Douglas. Odd would not suffice; I had witnessed some things that I would really rather not.

Now the moon was high and I laid down in a double-bed — the best we could find in this small thing they call town — with a book resting on my lap, its words stubborn to be read. My mind, nevertheless, was still racing, taking every chance to turn to Holmes’ being: what would the man be doing right now?

It is of Holmes' doing, this disappear-first-explain-after situation that keeps doing numbers to my heart, as much as it is of my doing to let myself worry about him. How could I be tranquil when I don't know of his well-being?

The detective had gone out after saying something very sparse about the case — mysterious and dramatic, just like always. Maybe he'd come back today, maybe tomorrow, maybe a week from now. No one knows; sometimes I think that neither does he.

I had just put the book onto the bedside table when I heard Holmes’ shoes hit the ground: slow and light, much like he does when he knows I’m supposed to be asleep. Of course, he knows I’m not. He knows pretty much everything — lying is not an option really, but you can make do with omitting half of the facts and hoping he’ll buy it.

Accepting the false as truth for your own self, sometimes, serves as a better lie than conjuring anything new. Protecting it, controlling yourself where you can, and letting yourself when it’s convenient to do so. That, I should say, I have acquired quite the ability to do since I’ve come to live with Holmes.

The old door clicks open and Holmes’ face pops out of the slit of light that comes out of it. His thin aquiline nose is beautifully contoured by the dim illumination, making his face look absolutely otherworldly against the brute finishing of the inn’s walls; I ended up staring for more than would be adequate. The world was still hazy from my tiredness, and the words, hard on my tongue.

“Hey, Holmes”, I started, “have you found anything out yet?” His tall, lean figure turned away for a second, sending my mind into a rush, longing for his gaze: I hadn’t seen him enough, observed him enough. The excuse I created then was that I worried only for his well-being, that I’d felt the need to look over for any wounds as is the first instinct of a proper doctor. That would be set to be a doubtful truth for me and for the world.

My eyes are startled as a dim candle is lighted by those delicate, though strong, fingers of Holmes’, sending me flinching slightly, the sleep still washing out my mind and senses. All of the sudden, he is coming closer to me; I sit up.

Now, I’m wide awake — his head is so close to mine that I can feel his controlled breathing. Holmes certainly doesn’t feel mine, for it had stopped completely at some unknown point, out of some feeling I couldn’t acknowledge without it becoming too evident.

I take in his face, his smell, his heat: no one would look at him from a distance and think Holmes a man of such comforting ways. As little as his sole presence was enough so that you could relax and feel like yourself again. This man really is majestic.

“John.” The sound of my first name stopped me on my tracks; Holmes never used it, as did the costume go. “Would you be afraid,” he whispered, “to sleep in the same bed of a lunatic, a man with a softening of the brain, an idiot whose mind has lost its grip?”

This could have so many implications, so many ways to interpret it, but no matter what sense I made of it, there was only one answer. “Not in the least,” I said with some difficulty, regaining the breath I had lost before. “Sherlock, I'd never leave you.” That, I turned to regret just after it came out of my lips — too revealing.

“Ah, that's lucky,” was the last thing any one of us uttered that night. Maybe both of us were afraid of what could come out of further conversation. I, certainly, was.

In the most absolute silence — Holmes had this kind of disturbing ability to do little to no noise — and in almost pure darkness, he started undressing himself slowly, until only the boxers remained. This inn of ours, see, had the worst bathrooms any of us had ever seen (and that says a lot, considering that we both had our fair share of doubtful stayings), which made changing inside them virtually impossible.

That meant we had to change in the room, something that wasn’t really a problem before, since we made the effort to be alone while doing so. But now, I deduced, it was too late at night. And we were tired. And we weren’t seeing much because of the darkness. And we were friends, for god’s sake! Two men, just that. Partners, only at work.

A nightgown was put over his long body. I turned my face towards the wall: allowing myself to such temptation was not an option. To Holmes, probably, this was an act done with no ulterior motives, but to me, oh, to me, it was torture! A display of everything I could never dream to have, right in front of my nose. Sherlock seemed embarrassed too; the whole ordeal was done quickly, and I am grateful, for if it was to go on for longer still, I would bear it no more.

The bed was a double one, but still rather small. I’d suggested that I sleep on the floor, but Holmes refused, claiming that the hard floor would cause my shoulder to hurt. Then, he said he’d do it instead, but I also didn’t let him. We had stared at each other for some seconds, before going back to whatever we had been doing before; the decision was made, and there was little to do but accept it.

The candle was unlit: we were now in complete darkness.

A newly-familiar weight settled just beside me on the bed, moving the covers until they covered us nicely. The atmosphere was cold, but in this old small place — full of cracks and pests and whatnot, the air dusty with misuse — I felt more than sufficiently warm. Comfortable. Cosy. Holmes' knees gently touched my sides, and somehow his hand ended up close to my arm, knuckles barely touching my bare skin; I dared not to move.

When I woke up, Holmes was closer, much like we gravitated towards each other during the night: just enough that I could feel his breath on my shoulder, his hand laying limp on my chest and moving with the rise and fall of it. It was impossible to say which one of us did it. Maybe both.

Laying very still, should I wake him up, I admired the mess of strands that was Holmes' hair. Dark and flowy, they framed his face nicely as if each one of them were just meant to be there.

I dared to push a loc off of his eyes. At that, they opened, causing me great panic — which I would not dare to show — grey irises barely visible before closing again in a lazy motion. Holmes' slumber is light, I should've remembered. The palm of his hand stiffened and was swiftly removed from where it laid.

Minutes later, the detective jumped off the bed and went on to his day, like nothing ever happened this last night. I accompanied him, as I always do, and it was a great day with great discoveries, as it always is with him. But I would not let it be.

I got in the room first; Holmes had gone on another errand I'd never hear the resolution. Sat upon the bedsheets, I awaited his presence in uncontained anxiety, mind trying to make sense of what I had heard yesterday. What had he meant with it? My thoughts kept turning to improbable possibilities, which I quickly shut down, only for them to arise, once again, minutes later — things that were but figments of my fierce imagination. Images of bare shoulders, parted lips and thin hands aroused my mindscape at every opportunity; this man, Holmes, tested all and every one of my limits without even knowing he was doing so.

After what seemed an eternity, Holmes' figure entered the room with an unprecedented heaviness. Living with the detective had its advantages: since staying at Baker Street, I had become more observant, and did as much as picking up some skills from him. As my heart raced, I looked up and saw his face go through a plethora of emotions when spotting me, like his did the very same. “Are we not discussing what you said yesterday? At night.” I said, words hard to find in an aching throat.

Holmes gave a violent start. “I did not mean anything by it, for I didn't think before talking.” The detective finished his point with the clink of metal on wood, putting down the candle he held with force. It almost went out. “It's best you forget it ever happened, Watson.”

“No, we are not letting this pass. Holmes, hear me. No one says something like this with no end in mind. You must be aware I'm here for you. Always. Forever.”

“Do not press your head to this matter, Watson. It isn't worth your time.”

“Was it about the way I write your character in The Strand? I do not think you of any bad. I am not leaving you, no matter which kind of insane you must think you are. What would be so dire that it’d make me flee?”

“Please, John.”

“It's only for the public! You know that. You've said it yourself: I romanticise everything, see facts that aren't there; make up thoughts I didn’t have. Omit the ones I have, even!”

There was a pause; silence. Silence, only in words, for his mind seemed ever so active, and he made it as to go away, exit the room more than once, never going through the action of fully turning around. Holmes’ lips parted a few times before he was able to direct his speech at me again.

“It's not that, Watson.” A pause. “It is that I am no normal person. Should anyone see me as myself, I would be promptly dead, and my reputation, ruined. You needn't have any more preoccupation than what you already have with this case.” At that, Holmes turned his head around to face anything but me.

“Then I don't know what to think anymore. Is this what you want of me? Confusion?” My voice cracked in distress. I didn't notice when I had gotten up, nor when I’d placed myself so close to Holmes’ figure. The candle flickered, encasing him in periods of light and shadow; but never taking away those eyes, that mouth, that nose, all features as though they were sculpted by the most skillful of artists.

“No! It is, John, that you matter so much to me, that you make me sick of the heart, of the brain and of the body.” That forced a breath out of my ribcage; my mind raced with no ending line.

“I… what?”

Holmes seemed physically struck with the realisation of what he had really professed, the gravity of his words. For a man whose whole ordeal was calculating the possibilities — the words — before doing — saying — anything, he sure did look surprised by his own self, eyes darting all over me in a panicked frenzy: deducing what I would say or do next. Holmes had told me, before, that I was one of the few people he couldn’t read all that easily. That made me interesting, according to him.

What I would say next was, indeed, a good question. I, myself, had no idea what to think. Blood pumped through my veins quickly, and I felt hot all over — had Holmes meant what I thought he did? I took one, two steps closer to Holmes' figure; our hands brushed slightly, sending chills down my spine. “Sherlock.”

Holmes backed away slightly from me. “This is wrong,” he warned in a sorrowful tone, much like he mourned something that could never be his. Something I also did for the longest while, since meeting the detective; discovering we both felt the same agony, over the same problem, was positively soothing.

I glanced at Holmes lips — thin, but almost welcoming, as if they were meant to meet mine. “I know.”

“You're staying?”

I placed both hands on Holmes’ clothed chest; it rose and fell erratically, almost in synchrony with the beating of the heart that lay inside it. Mine must’ve been doing the same.

“Only if you want me to.”

Holmes’ lithe hands moved to cover my own, holding them tight. We were close, closer than we had ever been, as the detective inched forward and did what I had yearned for so long: our lips met and gave way to a chaste kiss, leaving me breathless and desperate for more.

“Oh, I surely do,” Holmes answered before pressing his lips against me again, this time more passionate. I let mine part, allowing his tongue to slip inside, and kissed back. It was better than anything I could ever imagine, heat surging deep in my body as we moved in unison.

That night, we went to bed early, but not to sleep.

[galaxy-fleur]

What did you think of Leon and Ada's new relationship in the remakes? Meta wise

I think it's an interesting and more nuanced take on their relationship! Which I definitely like. I see no point in judging OG RE2's love story between them, no matter how cliché and nonsensical it is. It's a product of its time, and it's charming in its own cheesy way. Teenage me cried over Ada's death in there, so I do have a soft spot for it.

But the Remakes offer a fresh interpretation of what happened between them, and I'm definitely interested to see where they will take their relationship in the future (that is if they do, because I wouldn't mind them just having separate story arcs from now on).

If we're talking actual analysis, I'll put down my thoughts. I don't know if you can call it a full-on analysis per se, as it's more just me writing out my personal interpretations on things. So keep that in mind please!

Long post under the cut. I'm talking almost 4k words and way too many shitty gifs (I have no time to make them all polished). I have way too much to say. I'll basically be going over their entire relationship throughout RE2R and RE4R so... yeah.

RE2R and RE4R are two games that offer a full story for Leon's character, and that's a very awesome thing that Capcom has done. I'd even say it's one of the best things they've done with RE recently. Making RE4R feel like a direct continuation to Leon's arc in RE2R makes total sense, and it makes many scenes in RE4R that much more satisfying to play through.

While RE2R does end on a somewhat positive note (much like every RE game has to), Leon's arc in it is very much negative. He loses more than he gains, he's unable to save anyone, and his good intentions end up being used against him. Claire ends her RE2R story by saving a little girl she has come to care for. Leon ends his RE2R story by losing the G-sample, 'losing' Ada without getting much, if any, closure from her, and not saving even a single person he has encountered. Claire and Sherry don't really count in Remake-verse (which I kinda don't like) because their storylines mostly happened separately from each other.

And that's not mentioning that he gets (assumedly, and I am very much hoping we'll finally see more concrete scenes of how it all happened in Remake-verse) pretty much kidnapped and forced into a life he never wanted right after. To say that Leon can't get a break in RE2R is like saying nothing at all. Poor guy gets put through the wringer on every level.

Now, onto his relationship with Ada, and how it ties into everything... It should be said that, while he obviously grows to care about her throughout their short time spent together, he remains suspicious of her. RE2R Leon is naive, but I often feel like people make him too naive. He's not an idiot. He tries over and over again to get answers from her, and he clearly feels apprehensive with her. And I mean... that makes sense. While she does save him multiple times, she keeps her distance from him.

I'd say he starts opening up to her on an emotional level after witnessing Robert having to kill off his own daughter. He directly confronts her, demanding for answers and voicing his drive to do what's right. In a way, that's him showing his vulnerability to her. And Ada uses it against him. After all, it's a perfect opportunity to play on his (rather naive) determination to be the hero to help her achieve her own goals. Ada is also the only figure of 'authority' he has at the moment. Even if her claim of being FBI seems kinda off, she's the only one he has.

And I'll go over Ada and how I interpret her later. For now, just keep in mind that her using Leon is more of a gray area than just some horrible, disgusting thing. I'm just going over the events from Leon's viewpoint here.

So, they team up. Ada starts softening up to him. They share light banter with each other: 'A: After you. L: Gee, thanks.' She expresses concern over his safety (the alligator scene). I'd say that's the point where he starts to care for her on a more personal level from before. As you would.

Him taking a bullet for her was instinctual. I'd say it's a more pivotal moment for Ada's character here rather than Leon's. In Leon's case it's moreso her taking care of him right after that matters. He directly mentions it to her later on (at least I'm pretty sure his 'you protected me' referred to that). I'd say him waking up to find himself tucked in with her coat and his wound taken care of was the moment his 'I care because it's another person who's in this with me' turned into 'I care because I feel genuine attachment to this person'.

Was it romantic? I'd say that's left for you to interpret how you wish. I like to think of it as him just caring for her as a person. Leon is someone who cares very deeply for others, and he's always striving to be the protector to those around him. I kind of think that someone caring for him when he's weak and vulnerable is something that is very meaningful to him. Now, Ada saves him multiple times at that point. But that's the first instance of her arguably going beyond what's needed. Sure, taking care of his wound was necessary, although she could have just let him be as he was for all we know. But tucking him in on top of that? Yeah, that's an obvious 'I care' gesture.

From then on, Leon is following Ada because he wants to trust her. And I do want to ring this home. He wants to trust her. Doesn't mean he does trust her. Because even though he shows genuine care for her, it's clear that he knows she's might not be telling him everything.

He wants her to trust him, so that she'll tell him what she is keeping from him. So that he can trust her.

The kiss scene is a perfect representation of exactly that, I'd say. Honestly, I'll just link this analysis right here, because I pretty much interpret it in almost the exact same way. But I'll go over it in my own words as well.

Leon's growing frustration is in full display here. He turns around from her, he paces, he tries to appeal to her. To just trust him enough to be honest with him. It's clear that he knows Ada might not be telling everything, but he chooses to believe her regardless.

Hence the exchange that follows this:

Ada: 'Hey Leon, trust me?'

Leon, walking up to her: 'Trust me?' (Reversing her question)

Ada: 'Honestly, if I didn't, you'd probably be dead.' (A genuine answer as far as we know, but it's not one Leon wanted to hear, so he shakes his head, mutters 'Right.' and walks off.)

And I do feel like Ada knows that Leon is suspicious of her here. Her reaction once he walks off comes off as kind of panicky to me. She knows she might be losing him, and she can't have that. So, she once again appeals to what she knows is his weak spot. His drive to help others and 'save' the city. It does work. Somewhat. But he's still swaying, so she does the first thing she thinks of. She kisses him.

She, quite literally, cuts off his line of thought so he stops thinking about it. Because him thinking is dangerous for what she's really doing here.

I think it would be very disingenuous to say that that was a kiss of love or affection. It is not presented as such, nor is it addressed that way in all. It was Ada's last attempt at stopping Leon from questioning her any further. How much of it was her focusing on her goals, and how much of it was her effort to 'protect' him from potentially figuring out the truth, is left to your interpretation. But whatever intentions she had, good or bad, it was a kiss of manipulation.

It does shut Leon up, as he's visibly stunned. He doesn't even say anything at that. He just stares at her, then at her hand on his knee. Now, here's the tricky part of it all. Do I think Leon felt romantic affection/attraction to her here? On some level, I'd say yes. But it's definitely no 'love at first kiss' or anything like that. He's confused, mostly. While he spent arguably little time with Ada, it was a time full of meaning. Surviving side by side and protecting one another is no small feat. And Ada did show her care for him.

I think, he chooses to trust her in that moment, because he, once again, wants to believe in her. Even if her kiss felt out of nowhere, and so much of what she says (or rather doesn't say) makes no sense. He chooses to trust her because he wants to think that she's a good person who cares for him.

And so, we come to the pivotal bridge scene once he learns the truth. I do like how he confronts her in a blatantly emotional manner rather than logical. It's not so much about her being a mercenary itself, as it is about her using him and lying to him. That's what he's actually confronting her about, whether he realizes it or not. That's exactly why he tells her to shoot him, fully resolute as he holds her gaze. He wouldn't do that if he was just trying to apprehend a criminal like a good cop would (as he tries to present it at first).

But, he never gets that closure or resolution he was aiming for. Ada lowers her pistol. He breaths out shakily, probably wanting to continue talking, to figure this out. But he doesn't get that.

I do think Ada telling him to take care of himself as her 'last words' is a very painful thing for him. Because it leaves him with no actual closure on what happened between them. Ada chose to not harm him, and her last words to him are ones of selflessness. But she also lied to him and used his vulnerabilities to achieve her goals. And it's not like Leon knows anything about her occupation, and just how much she's involved with it on an emotional level. Maybe she's someone forced to do this against her will. Or maybe she enjoys doing such dirty jobs for all he knows.

That's the thing. Leon doesn't know. And that must be both frustrating and painful. He's basically left questioning all of his interactions with her, how much of it was genuine, whether she was honest with him at all.

And, most importantly, his time with Ada basically proves to him that his drive to protect and save, his willingness to give people the benefit of the doubt - is a flaw, and a weakness. It directly ties into his arc in RE4R. (And his relationship with Krauser, in a way, but I won't go over it here.)

He throws away her bracelet on the train, and I think that kind of shows that he chooses to believe in the pessimistic way of interpreting their time together. He throws it away because he doesn't want to hold on to something that reminds him of her. And, simultaneously, of his mistakes.

Now, let's go through the same events from Ada's POV, shall we? It's a bit more challenging, since we don't get to be in her shoes, but it's still a fun exercise.

Ada's initial interactions with Leon are ones of annoyance. She basically scolds him like a kid for always getting in danger and acts like saving him is a chore. But chooses to help him out regardless. I think it speaks of her humanity despite her line of work. It's an interesting dichotomy that follows her every single appearance pretty much, though not much is done with it (thanks Capcom). But yeah, despite her visible annoyance with him, she saves him time and time again.

She doesn't visibly soften up to him up until that same Robert scene. She's pretty observant from what we can tell, and she probably already had a good idea of Leon's righteous nature, but it's the first instance of her actively playing into it instead of making small snide comments about it ('Trying to save the world?' 'Good luck with that.'). That doesn't mean she doesn't care, though. It's subtle, but the little sighs and changes in her facial expression do show that she's at least a little bit conflicted at the prospect of lying to him on such a huge level (though you can't see most of it with her sunglasses).

It's one thing to say a passing lie about you being an FBI agent, and it's completely another to play the long game by using someone like that. But she needs to accomplish this task, and it already proved to be more difficult than she expected. Remember, Racoon City was Ada's first time dealing with anything of this sort, too. She might be a mercenary, but it's not like she had to deal with zombies and B.O.W's before that. She's out of her depth, and she has someone pretty much offering themselves to her as her assistance.

So, she takes the risk.

While she does join in some passing banter with Leon after that, she still keeps her distance. She's dry and mostly unemotional in her mannerisms. Remember how I said that Leon taking the bullet for her was more pivotal to her in the story? Let's go over that.

It would be disingenuous to say that Ada is a complex character, unfortunately. Most of the complexity she does have, we pretty much have to add on to ourselves. Hell, I'm doing it right now with this entire section! Capcom is doing a way better job with her in the Remakes, but she's still pretty flat as a character. Maybe this'll (hopefully) change in future installments. But for now, we work with what we have.

Either way, we do know that Ada is someone who's self-sufficient and chooses to work alone. She keeps her distance from everyone, and she lives by 'everyone for themselves' ideology. Basically, a total opposite of Leon's 'protector' role. All that to say... someone taking a bullet for her is definitely not something she would expect. On some level, specifically because she would never do that herself. Especially for someone she basically just met. But Leon risks his life for her. Furthermore, telling her to go ahead instead of anything else.

I think that's the moment Ada starts caring for him on a personal level. Maybe she feels like she should repay him for this. Or that she owes him a debt. Regardless, she takes care of him and tucks him in, before proceeding further.

That care only grows once they reunite. Now she's the one injured, and he takes care of her, despite her protests: 'I can do it myself'. Ada is self-sufficient, but Leon offers her his companionship time and time again. We don't know whether that's something she lacks in her life or not. We don't know enough of her as a character to say that. But she's obviously someone who's not used to getting help from others. Again, on some level, because she doesn't do that herself.

Remember, while Ada did save Leon numerous times before, she always acted visibly frustrated by it, like it was a chore she was forced into, despite her choosing to help him herself. Leon, on the other hand, is quick to offer and insist on helping out, very much eager to do that for her. She already made the choice to use him, but now she learns that he's a genuinely good person with a kind heart, and not just some stupid naive rookie.

And so, the kiss scene, again. I already said that her kiss feels like a last-ditch effort to stop Leon from questioning her any further. And I do think she acted on impulse. Thus why she follows up with a hand on his knee and the: 'I'm counting on you'. And I, personally, think she kind of regretted doing that right after. Or maybe felt extra conflicted about the whole ordeal as a whole. The way she slouches and sighs heavily once Leon leaves is very reminiscent of that. It's kind of a mix of 'Fuck, I messed that up, didn't I?' and 'What the hell am I going to do after this?'

It also should be noted that Ada never meant to tell Leon the truth. It would be convenient for both of them. Leon would feel like he did something good, and she would complete her mission with no further issues. Both sides win. But... things go haywire. And she's confronted with the consequences of her initial choice to use him.

It'll be silly to say that Ada doesn't care for Leon. If she truly was this heartless mercenary some would like her to be, she would shoot him on the spot. Her pistol being empty doesn't really matter, either. Leon was basically offering himself up to her, again. Even without any bullets on her hands, she could have easily knocked him out or something.

But, she can't bring herself to hurt him. Because Leon really is a good person that doesn't deserve that. And she knows that, and she cares for him on a personal level on top of it all. We don't know what she was going to do, before Annette shot her. Maybe I'm actually talking out of ass here, and she really was planning on knocking Leon out cold. But, we'll never truly know.

And her last words for him are to take care of himself. Because, in a way, Ada, more than anyone, knows just how selfless Leon is. On some level, it's a wordless 'I'm sorry', if you wish to interpret it that way.

Boy, was that a lengthy mess! Their first introduction to each sure was tumultuous. But we still have RE4R to go through! Though it'll be more about Ada than Leon.

Nevertheless, let's talk about Leon's interactions with Ada. I think we all know he's noticeably harsher and colder to her. It's an interesting change, and it does show that he feels resentment towards her for what happened in Racoon City. We don't know how his initial conflicted feelings morphed into this resentment, but they did.

I don't think nearly enough people mention that he's genuinely being very damn rough with her in their little sparring session. While yeah, you could make an argument that he's holding back, he's not being careful either. Ada has to put in actual effort to fight him off, which she doesn't even succeed in because he takes her off-guard with his intensity.

And he also puts the sharp end of his dagger to her throat. Just to rub more salt into the wound.

I don't think this was him wanting to hurt her or threaten her, though. It was more of a show of strength. Ada approaches him by taunting him and teasing him, like she can do whatever she wants to him. But he's not that same naive rookie anymore. And he shows her exactly that.

A kind of: 'Don't think you can play the same trick on me twice, or you might get burned' message. A message that I think Ada does get.

As for him smirking at her, I don't think that's him being 'happy' to see her or anything. I think that's just him being amused that she still thinks she can play him like that. He grows all cold and distant with her right after.

Leon obviously has a grudge that he hasn't let go of. I actually like how he's almost needlessly petty with her in RE4R. Making snide remarks, calling her heartless and dismissing her on numerous occasions. It shows that he does care. If he didn't, he would cooperate with her with no further complaints on his part. He's purposefully being cold to her to show that yes, he is still upset about what happened, and he will use every opportunity to demonstrate exactly that. It's petty and kind of childish, in a way. But it makes sense for him, and it adds extra flavor to their relationship at this point in time.

Though, he does offer an opening to her in the boat.

'Have you changed, Ada? Or are you trying to use me again?'

It's a good parallel to his: 'Trust me?' In RE2R, and both phrases are used for a similar purpose.

He gives Ada an opening to trust him and be open with him. One that she doesn't take, again: 'What do you think?'

She gives him no answer. Just like she didn't in RE2R. I think, in a way, that kind of gives Leon an answer by itself. He trusts Ada and relies on her when push comes to shove, but he doesn't give her any more openings from then on. I'd say that's his 'I think we both know this is where we go our separate ways' moment.

With Ada, things are way more complicated, in a good way. Separate Ways gave us so much to work with, and that's amazing.

Throughout Separate Ways, we see Ada bouncing back-and-forth on what she wants to do. She's initially very cold and resolute in her job, helping Leon out more like a passing convenience than anything else. She does still help him, though. She's still dealing with the dichotomy of what she presents herself as, and what she actually acts as.

I really like her confrontation with Luis in particular. She's cutthroat and blunt. Almost chillingly so. And she only relents once Luis mentions her own infection. Him telling her of Leon's infection has little effect.

'And why does that matter to me?'

I think that's a question she's asking herself just as much as Luis here. Though, she's still in her cold, self-sufficient mercenary role here. To be honest, I find her relationship with Luis in particular much more interesting in RE4R, but since we're talking about her and Leon here, I'll just say that Luis is the catalyst to her change (so to speak, Ada doesn't really change as a character per se, I'll elaborate on that later). Not Leon.

She confronts Leon face-to-face, quickly being met with the truth that he is not as easy for her to push around now. And I do think she has zero bad intentions there. She was genuinely just playing around and teasing him. Only to figure out that that approach won't work at all. It's kinda cute, honestly. So, she gives him an opening of her own instead. She tells him to leave Ashley, to prioritize his own safety over hers. Because that's what she would have done in his place. Leon is quick to shut that down. Something that Ada probably expected, as she just huffs and gives a knowing 'Right.' to that.

That's the moment Ada knows Leon hasn't changed. Not really. He might be colder, more ruthless and dangerous, but he's still that same guy, wanting to protect others, no matter what. She knows she'll have no success in swaying him at that point. Hence why she tells him exactly that on the boat later.

The next pivotal scene, I'd say, is her watching Ashley wake up and learn of Luis' death. Ada mostly treats Ashley like a nuisance, something Leon has to protect. Because that's his job. But in that moment, she sees the genuine connection they share with each other. She sees that Leon cares. And not just because Ashley is an innocent person he has to save, but because it's Ashley.

Ada's arc throughout Separate Ways is not that connected to Leon, which is a good thing. Similarly to Leon concluding his story from RE2R by saving Ashley and proving to himself (first and foremost) that he can protect someone he cares about, and that his humanity is a strength, not a weakness, Ada learns to accept herself, too. She's visibly conflicted at the start of SW, but by the end of it, she knows what she has to do, and she made peace with that. Her hesitating before going against Wesker in the facility is one of the last moments of her hesitating with her intentions.

But, again, that scene is more about her and Luis. Luis is very important to Ada's character in SW, and I think that's neat.

While the scene itself is kinda awkward, her encountering Ashley during the final battle is another arguably important one. Her watching Leon and Ashley before that was about her witnessing Leon's care for her. Now she sees that Ashley fully reciprocates that care. They are on equal ground with each other.

And so, the final scene between them. I already said that Leon settled on his answer concerning Ada before that. But Ada makes one final opening to him. It's a selfish one. After all, what exactly would happen if Leon agreed to come with? Would they just leave Ashley to die and fly off into the sunset? On some level, I think Ada knows that what she's asking is unrealistic, especially for Leon. But I think it also speaks of her progression throughout Separate Ways. Ada learns to be more genuine with herself, even if it means being selfish or asking something that she knows will be rejected.

So, she shoots her shot one last time. Leon gives his answer. Ada is not surprised by it. But she is visibly upset by it. She knew it was coming, though.

So, they do exactly that. They go their separate ways. At least for now.

[steppingonyourshadow]

Complete Q&A from Elle September 2024

Elle: When you're on a break do you think about things that happened on set?

XZ: Of course. I remember dreaming about it a few days after we had wrapped, that we were still shooting and I was there talking to the director about how we'd say those words, how we were going to deal with that scene.

Elle: Do you miss the atmosphere on set?

XZ: I really like it, I like the feeling of everyone creating something together, all pulling together to do the same thing really well.

Elle: When you first became an actor and during the time when your popularity grew really fast, you said it felt a bit unreal, magical. But now you seem pretty relaxed. How did this change come about?

XZ: Rather than it being unreal, magical, after all these years I think back then I hadn't gotten used to such a fast pace, and when I woke up each day, I'd barely know where I was and what I was doing. I think it's a process, like how everyone's so excited when they first enter employment, "I'm here, please take good care of me", "this young master is coming through, out of my way", "I can do it, I am good". [laughs] But after you've experienced a lot, you'll realise that everything needs long-term planning.

Elle: In several interviews you mentioned that you like to play characters that "can transmit energy". Why is that?

XZ: Because I think that's the life of a character. When I say "transmit energy", I don't mean just the usual, basic sense of positive energy. What I mean is being able to provide nourishment in a subtle way - like spring rains sinking silently into the dirt. I believe that every character has at heart a complete storyline, this is something I really like. If you dig deep, they can all move people. I don't like to label antagonists as "bad guys", as if you've already decided from the start that they're not good. But that's not right - he might have his own difficulties.

Elle: It sounds like "transmitting energy" is only an umbrella term, actually it's understanding different types of people through performance.

Xiao Zhan: That's right. If we break it down to each character, they all transmit different things. But if we make them into "good guys", "bad guys", I think that makes it less interesting.

Elle: So do you consider performance a method of communication?

Xiao Zhan: Yes, you could say that, I like that. Performance is a bridge connecting the actor and the audience. Like how when my shows are on, I'll read a bit of audience commentary and analysis and feel that their reactions to the work are really complex. When I see comments that coincide exactly with my thoughts when we shot it, I find that really magical, like we really connected along this bridge. In life we might not know each other, we've never spoken, but all of a sudden because they got what I was thinking at the time, it makes me feel that performance is a really wonderful, magical thing.

Elle: Do you watch or read science fiction?

XZ: I do, I liked Three Body. Recently I've actually been watching some sci-fi, like the American drama Constellation, and also Dark Matter, they're both multiverse, alternative universe shows. Because I think maybe there really are parallel universes. Each of your choices creates a new splinter alternative universe.

Elle: Do you think about the Xiao Zhan of those alternative universes?

XZ:  I really do. For example, is he still an actor? Maybe he is, then is he shooting right now? Is he still singing? Or is he still a designer? Is he still an employee or has he become the boss? [laughs] Really, I do think about it.

Elle: What about the future, what do you think it'll be like?

XZ: Woah, I actually think at that point the world might revert to its origins, maybe it will be more wonderful, with interpersonal communication returning to a more natural form.

Elle: That's really interesting. Why do you think that?

XZ:  Actually, at least at the moment I'm a bit sick of the internet being ever-present. When we were kids and we didn't have cellphones, we'd chat during meals, all the kids would be called downstairs from their apartment blocks to play together, doing hide and seek and other games. Those times were really precious.

Elle: Will actors still exist in that future?

XZ: I think so. I believe that so long as life continues, theater will exist. Because we need a form of expression, to experience empathy, and to have emotional sustenance, whether it's in images or sounds. So I think even if the world was destroyed, so long as people still exist, theater will surely still exist.

[voidedaurora]

I've been keeping my actual posts about this minimal for the time being because of some things behind the scenes but I've just been sent this mess of an announcement she's made in her discord and I thought I'd say something about it

(yes mel, I AM going to break this down considering you have a tendency to lie and skew things and say weird shit that gets looked over otherwise)

SS #1

First of all. What are you trying to do here, Garner pity? trying to get SYMPATHY and leniency for actions YOU made, things YOU did. Trying to garner sympathy as if you're the one that's been victimized in this whole thing, as much as you'd like to see yourself as a victim you are not!

Being called out for terrible things YOU'VE done does not make you a victim and does not give you any passes for anything.

Its understandable to be stressed, but you're putting this on yourself by trying to disprove things that simply cannot be because these are things that've actually happened, not random BS to take you down.

The easiest and best thing you could've and still can do in this situation is admit your wrongs and get off the internet to live in REAL life for a little and maybe seek some help for your mental so you cant hurt anyone else.

-

SS #2

Now this is just a bit odd? I know for a fact you do not have any "hidden answers everyone's looking for" bc most things of note have been presented (at least from me personally) and have already PROVEN these things did indeed happen?

(excluding the few things that were in vc unrecorded)

Things will never go back to normal, you cant even pin this on being a "stupid kid" anymore because this is behavior that has spanned across YEARS and YEARS now with no change, whenever people have tried to help you, push you in the right direction, directly explained something you're doing is wrong, etc. You've been mean and unwilling to hear anyone out and would rather live your life a hateful individual that gets to do whatever she wants without consequences or any real responsibility and attempt to improve yourself.

-

SS #3

From the time I knew you you did not bother to let people tell you when you were wrong and would get EXTREMELY aggressive and defensive when anyone would, you never took the time to understand when you did something wrong (outside of 1 or two instances) and would just do the same things again and again regardless of whether it was wrong or right just because you can, so ofc you wouldn't understand its wrong. you didn't care

As a minor myself (17, going on 18) I know where my boundaries are when speaking to people younger and know when and where not to cross that line BEFORE being an adult, so what's your excuse?

People don't expect you to "know everything" just the bare minimum of not being a fucking weirdo to minors, not sexually using people, and to have a little common sense.

It does not matter whether your old friend groups (WITH PEOPLE A YEAR BEHIND OR AHEAD OF YOU IN AGE) had sexual jokes normalized or not, you wouldn't go into a elementary school and start making sex jokes in front of minors irl right, because those are children, or would your humor that overrides normal common sense force you to make those jokes anyway? Seriously.

And spoiler (from what I've been told and shown by khai)

She still to this day makes sex jokes and remarks around and to her friends despite in private acknowledging she should stop acting like this. Its honestly disgusting she can allegedly have acknowledged to Khai that what she was doing is wrong, only to continue making jokes and doing things she shouldn't around her.

-

SS #4

This is Equally as weird as the rest of her response previously, I see where her intentions are but the way she's worded and executed it leaves such a bad taste in my mouth considering the nature of what she's been called out for (Being sexual around/to minors, Sexual abuse, etc)

Making the server 18+ would've been a great show of growth and intent to correct things from you if you hadn't gone "There'd still be some people underage within the server" , It's genuinely the weirdest way you could go about doing this, if you're making ANYTHING 18+ you cannot be allowing the people that are >18 to stay in, that completely defeats the purpose of upping the servers age considering 80% of the fans that'd even be joining your server and interacting are ALREADY going to be in there and verified.

This is basically like going "I'll make it 18+ but my fav minors can stay in!". If you were making your server 17+ and wanted to keep a couple 16 yr olds that are turning 17 soon in (and there was no nsfw in the server) that'd be okay! but when you're making anything 18+ that implies there's enough mature content in there to warrent it being 18+ and wouldn't be ok to keep minors in for that reason.

-

SS #5

No comment honestly, you did this to yourself and could've saved yourself and many others time and energy by admitting your wrongdoings, getting off the internet, and getting help instead of making up shit and trying to save face now that you've finally been seriously called out.

Must suck finally getting repercussions for your actions after years of being too "untouchable" for anyone to say something.

I've made my thoughts quite clear here, Do not go harass Quartelz or any of her friends. You may voice your opinions but please do so with humanity and maturity.

As much as you'd like me to "burn out" Mel, You're not gonna get what you want and I will keep fighting for people to see the real person you are and for you to get the consequences you've been owed for years now.

If you want to try and talk to me about everything that is still an option but It will not make me magically forgive or take back anything I've said or will say.

(unless there was a genuine misunderstanding with some part, but I highly doubt this since I've tried to keep everything I say as PROVABLE as possible)

[lauralot89]

Could Vampire Bats Have Eaten Quincey's Horse?

I have not seen anything pulled down so quick since I was on the Pampas and had a mare that I was fond of go to grass all in a night. One of those big bats that they call vampires had got at her in the night, and what with his gorge and the vein left open, there wasn’t enough blood in her to let her stand up, and I had to put a bullet through her as she lay.

I actually misremembered this scene as Quincey saying his horse was eaten by a straight up vampire, because this doesn't make any sense at all. Vampire bats drink two tablespoons of blood nightly, they aren't draining horses.

Or are they?

Like the last time I went off on some weird scientific journey about blood consumption in Dracula, I decided to see if there's any way this is possible.

So, Quincey's horse is a mare, which has a lower average body weight than a stallion, and as such, a lesser whole blood volume. For example, "the breed standard weight for a Thoroughbred stallion is approximately 1,100 to 1,300 pounds, while mares weigh between 900 to 1,100 pounds."

What kind of mare did Quincey have, though? That impacts the weight and the amount of blood. If we assume he was using a horse from Argentina rather than bringing a horse from the United States, I think the most likely breed would be the Criollo, which is the native horse of the Pampas. If he brought a horse with him to South America, I'd wager it was an American quarter horse, the most popular horse breed among cowboys.

The Internet tells me that the average Criollo weight is between 1200 to 1300 pounds, and the average American quarter horse weighs between 950 to 1200 pounds. So let's imagine Quincey's mare weighed 1200 pounds if she was a Criollo, and 950 pounds if she was an American quarter horse.

I am told that "on average, a horse has approximately 8 to 10 percent of its body weight in blood." We'll go with 8 percent to give the vampire bats a fighting chance. This would mean a Criollo mare would have 96 pounds of blood, and a American quarter mare would have 76 pounds of blood.

There are 30.68 tablespoons in a pound. As such:

Criollo: 2945.28 tbsp

American Quarter: 2331.68 tbsp

Of course, Quincey's mare didn't lose all of her blood. She was still alive, she just couldn't get up. So what's the maximum amount of blood a horse can lose and live?

According to this posting, a horse which has lost 6 to 12 L of blood can survive with a transfusion, so we'll posit that 12 L is the maximum blood loss a horse can survive. 12 L is 26.45 pounds, or 797.68 tablespoons.

It would take 399 vampire bats all feeding from the same animal to remove 797.68 tbsp of blood in one night.

The average vampire bat colony contains 100 bats. So, if four colonies descended on the mare (maybe she was the only animal out and about that night) then this is actually possible.

But more likely Bram Stoker had no idea how vampire bats worked a Argentinian vampire was feeding on tourists and their horses, knowing the bats would be blamed.

[greatwyrmgold]

Back in 2022, before my repeated attempts to get into One Piece, there's only one villain from the series I'm confident I'd be able to identify as a One Piece character. I don't know what the OP fandom thinks its most iconic villain is, but as a fandom outsider, I'd have guessed Doflamingo Donquixote.

Having read the Dressrosa arc, I'm not that impressed. And not in the way I'm not impressed with Frieza, where he doesn't click with me but I see why he'd be the series's most iconic villain. Doflamingo has cool powers used in creative ways, but aside from that I can't think of anything he does better than previous villains.

He's another entitled jerk with a lot of power and no regard for people he considers "lesser". What distinguishes Doflamingo from Don Krieg, aside from superior power level and style?

Doflamingo menaces an entire island-kingdom instead of a single restaurant, and he keeps up his reign of terror for ten years instead of ten minutes—but again, higher power level.

Doflamingo reshapes the battlefield with his Birdcage, but Don Krieg's destructive cannons and poison gas and such do something similar. Smaller, less effective, less visually impressive—but again, higher power level and superior sense of style.

Doflamingo not-so-secretly regards his followers and family as mere tools, to be discarded if they become a liability, just like Krieg. He cultivates a one-sided feeling of familial loyalty among his closest followers, but that's not really focused on in the Dressrosa arc.

Doflamingo is confident to the point of arrogance, so was Krieg. Doflamingo's is more tempered, but that's not enough to set him apart on its own.

Doflamingo's arrogance and sense of superiority comes from his Celestial Dragon heritage rather than Don Krieg's superior manpower and weaponry, which feels like part of it. Doflamingo is one of the first Noble antagonists the Straw Hats face, as much a pirate as he is a greater power. But this isn't the first time the Straw Hats fought against the Powers That Be, or even the first time Luffy punched specifically the son of a Celestial Dragon.

Nothing about Doflamingo feels Special. Or at least, not Special enough to make him an iconic villain, the one villain non-fans can identify. He feels like a remix of older villain components with a fresh coat of paint, new powers and new atrocities and new action scenes. What sets him apart from the crowd?

Is it the buildup he got as early as Sabaody Take One? Is it his liminal status, the last mere pirate Luffy fights before challenging the Emperors and re-challenging the World Government?

Is it his superior style? Because for all I criticized Doflamingo, his design is straight fire.

This man steals the stage with an ease few anime villains can match. And that's before he encloses an entire island in a stringy birdcage. His substance doesn't thrill me, but style is another thing entirely.

[spicypepperflakesss]

૮꒰ “ . . ꒱ა

{Referencing this post: https://www.tumblr.com/muriels-brainrot/755439602787139584/how-do-you-cope-with-the-fandom-being-so?source=share }

Forgive me if I'm intruding but I recently came across some very helpful advice which I think is quite insightful.

To set the scene, before I found this advice, I myself was struggling with staying consistent with art. This time however, I had decided that no I won't keep procrastinating. SO, in my attempt to find resources, I stumbled onto this video. Now suddenly it all began to make sense. The reason I was struggling was not because i'm lazy and horrible and lacking motivation. Rather it was because I had outcome related goals. TLDR: I was focused on the outcome (wow rlly iri we didn't know that's what outcome related goals meant pfft-)

Anyways so, instead of focusing on the process, I was instead focusing on the end product aka the finished drawing. Ofc I'm a beginner so I wouldn't look like I wanted to. Not bad but it wouldn't be what I wanted so i'd get frustrated and eventually give up on drawing . . . before inevitably returning with my tail between my legs cause I still rlly want to get better.

Honestly, it's natural and normal for these feeling to occur, because like you said we pour so much time and dedication. Not to mention heart and soul to make these creative projects that it feels almost personal when it doesn't get engagement. But if there is something i'd like for you to know, it's that it rlly helps if you take enjoyment in the process. Draw inspiration from odd places and craft scenarios.

Don't write for others, or the cliche of writing for yourself but rather think of it as you sharing your brainrot with ur future self haha. Write stuff that you'd wanna read yourself! (then come back to read it like a crazy person at the dead of night . . . wait, don't tell me that just me-)

Just . . . let your brain do its thing! Let your brain create instead of letting the ideas and projects fester in your head. Keep growing your skill because you never know, these might be the very thing that comes in handy later on in life. Think of singers like Sabrina carpenter who was niche (I mean to say not worldwide popular yknow, but u get my point) for a long time. However, if you look at her now that she's gone viral, it's the hard work during the years she spent creating with most of the world with their backs to her that is the sole reason she continues to be so well known for her . . . well, everything! (For example: She is extremely comfortable on stage while performing and looks like she's in her element even with thousands of eyes on her . . . it's cause she's been performing for almost 10 years I think.)

So, to both anon and anyone else reading this, pls keep creating stuff. Especially passion projects. Even if you feel like you're screaming into a void. You'll only get better IF you continue. Also, you never know maybe there is someone out there that really enjoys your work. Even if it's one person, that still someone out there that keeps coming back just for your work. This silly tangent I went on, won't completely get rid of all the thoughts and feelings . . . but it's a start. Hope this helps . . .

(Example: I always find myself coming back to this artwork by @cinsilly cause Asra's expression here is so funny. No not once a week but every few days oops- )

Oh my god thank you!! I'll post my thoughts in the comments. But it was honestly v cool of you to share this, the only thing that keeps me together in any fandom is knowing we're not alone in feeling this way :'> !!!

[critical-birb]

Hope this isn't presumptuous of me but I have an archery question and would like to pick your brain if you don't mind.

I was writing a scene in my Breath of the Wild fanfic with Link and Mipha fighting some Yiga Clan guys. Link is watching carefully during the fight trying to figure out how the Duplex Bow fires two arrows at a time. One after another in quick succession at a single point (rather than the spread of arrows Lynel Bows or the Great Eagle Bow fires).

I couldn't come up with a plausible explanation other than the Duplex Bow has two strings, allowing the user to knock two arrows close together and then releasing them one after the other.

What are your thoughts on this?

Presumptuous? To message me about my hyperfixiation interests??

My guy I am kissing you gently on the forehead and handing you a flower.

So - you're totally right that with real world physics, firing two arrows from the same bow at the same exact point immediatly one after the other without re-drawing is unrealistic outside of video game logic. Even if you had two strings on your bow and released one and then the other, the bow tension would only release once you'd released the second and they would fire at the same time.

It is possible to shoot multiple arrows on the same bow, at the same time. Though you'll not only have far less control over where they'll hit, but the more arrows you have, the less force you'll get behind them. So they won't go very far or hit very hard. Typically, Archers don't do this. Though there's records of the more scattergun approach being used in medieval battles, usually arrows being shot into the air to try to just hit as many people as possible quickly.

The Duplex bow in BotW is....hmm. Its an odd shape, for a bow. That 3 shape doesn't reflect the shape of any bow I've ever seen in reality. (Edit: I think it is potentially based on a scythian composite bow)

My theory would be that the design works similarly to a recurve bow, with the limbs bending to provide the force, but for it to really have an impact it would make more sense of the limbs were turned backwards. I'll add a sketch here later to explain that better.

The only solutions I can come up with if we're being creative with this are;

The arrows. If you had a hollow arrow with a second arrow inside that had a wider fletching than caught the wind resistance more, it could fire as one arrow but separate mid-air into two, one flying slightly slower than the other as the wind catches the fletching.

Or it's two bows stuck together. Thing four limbs, rather than two. Perhaps it looks like a single bow until you squint and realise it's two bows designed to look like two halves of a single one. That way the two string method would work, because each string would have different limbs connecting to it.

Oooh I'd be excited to read your fic when it's done! I hope you'll share it!!

[callmearcturus]

okay so PC Gamer just scattered a bunch of catnip for me with an article about What If Each Fallout Game Were A Movie, Who Would Direct It and I am going to read this live and judge it

because I'm having a relapse, we all understand this

A focused, mature, pressure cooker of a movie that is short and stylishly violent? Better call the director of John Wick to take the directorial reigns. Personally, I find Leitch's movies tend to have rather underwhelming final acts, too, and also have a penchant for ending abruptly when you feel more could have followed, so he's the perfect fit for a game that's incredible until it very quickly ends without much fanfare. John Wick movies don't tend to be very wacky either, often depicting the hero's world as very serious (despite the ludicrous premise of the fiction), so again this feels a strong and apt choice for the OG Fallout. A Friday night action movie.

HMMMMMM. I feel like I disagree on the mode I would want FO1 to be in. Like, yes, you can play it that way, but FO1 is famously one of the first games to make Speech arguably the most important skill to have in a video game, so I dunno. I love Leitch and feel like while his sense of realistic-yet-stunning action is a trademark, I think the use of locations is even more of his thing, and when I think about memorable locations, I think more of FO2 than FO1.

I feel like I would give FO1 to some hyper-realistic scumbag who is more obsessed with Process than Enterta-- oh. Nolan. gdi I'd give FO1 to Chris fucking Nolan, him whomst I loathe.

Who better to direct this expansive and often wacky depiction of the Fallout universe than the director responsible for epics such as Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, 12 Monkeys, Brazil, The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, and The Man Who Killed Don Quixote? Gilliam loves a good road trip in his work, too, which fits with Fallout 2's Highwayman-based exploration, and his penchant for vast vistas with wacky and absurd details feels perfect. The combat scenes wouldn't be as slick as Leitch's Fallout movie, but characterisation and a more rambling, philosophical, off-beat narrative would deliver. Plus, Fallout 2 even has a Bridge Keeper encounter that directly references Monty Python and the Holy Grail, in which Gilliam starred. Watch on a Saturday night for a bit of everything.

......... I straight up cannot argue with that. No notes.

For a movie based on a game that is focussed almost entirely on squad-based combat in urban environments, combat where soldiers die in terrible ways and the horrors of war are all too apparent, I feel the director of The Hurt Locker, Kathryn Bigelow is perfect for this. Fallout: Tactics would be a war movie with a very tight focus and strong characterisation for just a handul of lead characters. Tense and at times adrenaline-inducing due to the flashes of extreme violence, but interspersed with soul-searching dialogue from its grizzled, war-scarred leads, this would be an erudite and focused Fallout war movie. Watch on a Monday or Tuesday night.

Looking at Bigelow's list of works is how I just now learned she also did Strange Days, so I think it's fair to say that this is giving her way too small of a pick. Give her FO1 and give Leitch FOT.

It would be so bad. Forget about A-bombs, everyone in the movie would drop an F-bomb every other line. Don't watch on any night.

Fucking weak-ass pick. Think about the history of how FO:BoS happened, i.e. they were trying to slap the Fallout license onto a completely different style of game without any respect for the source material. They swapped out Nuka Cola for Bawls product placement.

Give it to Zack Synder.

As the game that properly introduced V.A.T.S. system slow-mo to the Fallout universe, with kill shots shown off in glorious bullet time, there can be only one director for a film version of Fallout 3: the master himself, John Woo. Woo's stellar action movie work in titles such as Hard Boiled, Broken Arrow, Face/Off and Mission Impossible 2, among others, means the action in this game is off the charts. Slow-mo radiated doves and all! Woo handles the post-apocalypse war vibes well, too, thanks to his work on Windtalkers, while he communicates the hero's awakening into the future thanks to previous on Paycheck. A good fit for Friday night, thanks to the action, or midday during the weekend due to a longish, war movie-style runtime.

.....................

holy shit i cannot argue with that, that's genius. absolutely fucking yes. i think that's a perfect fit.

also, like, FO3 and Woo have the same "problem" for me, in that they know exactly what they are doing, it's just not my cup of tea, but there is a solid identity there.

yeah, fucking do it, give FO3 to John Woo.

SHUT THE FUCK UP

WHO WROTE THIS ARTICLE, AND DID THEY WRITE IT FROM MY FUCKING ATTIC?!

Casinos, gritty environments, extreme violence and heist movie vibes mean I think of Guy Ritchie for this film adaptation. Ritchie's also a fan of slow-mo combat shots, too, so we've got the game's V.A.T.S. system represented well, too, while the game's macho factional warfare as undertaken by factions like Caesar's Legion and the NCR, is right in keeping with Ritchie's love of gang-based conflict. There's not much romance in New Vegas, either, which is a weak spot for Ritchie, but as shown in movies like Sherlock Holmes, Snatch, The Gentleman, and Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, he's good at holding together movies with various interconnecting narratives. His work on Aladdin also shows he can handle the comedic and wacky aspects of New Vegas, too. A mid-week action-comedy treat.

/rubs face

I am unfortunately a massive fucking fan of Ritchie movies. this is so powerful.

i think........... Ritchie is so thoroughly uninterested in saying anything philosophically profound, you cannot give him The Most Profound Fallout Game. like, I want to love this idea, I really do, but no.

....................... You need someone with snappy dialogue that actually means something, who is willing to veer into borderline magical realism, who loves an overdressed set, and who can manage a lot of different characters with well-reasoned motivations.

I think you need Rian Johnson.

OR DO I JUST WANT RIAN JOHNSON TO MAKE A VERSION OF "DEAD MONEY" THAT DOESN'T SUCK? WHO COULD SAY.

I feel Ang Lee is a good choice for a Fallout 4 movie adaptation, having good form in handling large and sprawling fictions with plenty of characters and side-stories. Just look at films like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and Life of Pi as an example of this. He's got some form with action, too, thanks to his work on Hulk. There's probably more romance/relationship offering in Fallout 4 than in any other Fallout, and Ang Lee has form here too. The result, though, is a movie that ends up being a bit flabby and unfocussed at times, despite technically bringing more to the table than Fallout 3, and being funnier and lighter overall. Watch on a day off due to a chonky runtime.

what are you fucking talking about, Ang Lee's best movies are Brokeback and Sense & Sensibility, and his worst are probably Hulk and Gemini Man. Fallout 4 is the one where Bethesda just stopped pretending to give a shit about story and roleplaying, instead pivoting the game into a skinner box of tightly-honed but ultimately soulless mechanics.

I'm not even trying to mock Marvel, but I feel like the MCU's Design-By-Producer-And-Executive-Oversight is actually the answer here. It doesn't matter who directs it because the main voice will be a board room.

oh shut upppppp

Fallout Shelter would in some ways be the most obvious setup for a movie: the self-contained story of a vault-dwelling society, interspersed with the surface adventures of random dwellers. Sounds a bit like the TV show when you put it like that, which is why there's only one Nolan for the job: Christopher! Yes, fresh off Oppenheimer it is time for Oppenheimer 2, focusing on the aftermath of all-out nuclear war (hell, Cillian Murphy can even have a cameo as a brain in a jar, I'm that generous). Moody, intense, riven with twists you didn't see coming, and with all special effects done for realsies, this movie could only ever be rad. The only downside is that, like the TV show Silo, you'd spend an awful lot of time indoors.

absolutely fucking not. the thing about Nolan is that his shit is so meticulous, it like.... pitches past hyper-realism and lands in this weird uncanny valley of "he wouldn't fucking say that" but it's for a character you've only known for ten minutes.

FO: Shelter is about emergent storytelling that feels almost accidental rather than arranged or scripted. you need someone who is hands-off the script but can capture a.... good moment..............

oh god, it's JJ Abrams, isn't it? god dammit. or, frankly? Spielberg. so I'm saying no to the director i hate and offering instead two other directors i dislike, but for different reasons.

yeah. yep. that's what i'm doing.

SPITTAKE

As an MMO that takes many aspects of the Fallout universe to the extreme, it feels a movie version of Fallout 76 would be akin to a huge-budget, climatic MCU movie where it really helps if you've had previous with the series to get most enjoyment. As such, I feel the Russo brothers would take the reigns for Fallout 76. The result would be a jack-of-all-trades action-adventure that borrows bits of every previous Fallout to make something that appeals to a lot of people but, after watching, doesn't go down as something you'd rewatch for most all of them. Big, bright, wacky and action-filled, there's no doubting though that you get a spectacle and fun, though. Watch in two sittings over two nights (as the movie's runtime is 3 hours 47 minutes).

no. fuck you. i reject your premise. the Fallout game that shipped with no NPCs and expected the story to be entirely conveyed by set-pieces, environmental design, and audiologs?

resurrect Tarkovsky and give us FO76, desolate and beautiful with environmental shots that last seven minutes without a cut. because the only good thing about FO76 is the setting, the amount of effort put into building the actual space, so I want 90 minutes of film and seven pages of script.

Russo Brothers, get tf out of here