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I am not immune to a guy who has another guy / entity (gender neutral) in his head

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Oscar Isaac as Poe Dameron

The Force Awakens (2015)

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verses where miles dyes his hair:

pre/post canon

star wars

cyberpunk

spiderverse (pre having a kid)

verses where he lets himself go gray:

remedyverse

spiderverse (post having a kid)

trials

verses where it doesn’t matter because life is an endless cycle of death that doesn’t impact his appearance:

dbd

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PINTEREST MOODBOARD

RULES : look up “YOUR NAME + CORE + AESTHETIC” on Pinterest and choose 9 images to use as a moodboard.

tagged by : @dcmcnsinmymind

tagging: steal it uwu

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They do NOT love each other (I’m not sure)

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Oscar Isaac as Steven Grant in MOON KNIGHT | "The Goldfish Problem"

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interesting revelation / meta thought re: that last post. I've always written miles as someone who puts up appearances / walls / masks, who allows people to make assumptions about him rather than exposing genuine vulnerability, who is much more comfortable dealing with other people's problems than his own. and that's actually really fitting with him being a silent protagonist -- and honestly the least developed of the series' three protags. we know jack shit about his life outside of the game's events. his character is inherently one that you as the player are meant to project onto. he's a largely blank slate for us to experience the plot through. and in a lot of ways that's something I unintentionally carried into how I write him as a more complete character. he treats himself like the blank slate silent protagonist in other people's lives -- someone whose value lies not in Being Himself but in acting as a lens through which others can view themselves or the situations that they're in. man. man!!!

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Love love love characters that present themselves as emotionally open social butterflies but the more you see of them the more obvious it is that they’re the most closed off fuckers in the story. Sure, they want to help you with your personal problems and messy emotions, but if you turn that shit back on them, they’ll shut down or deflect every time. Why are you sticking your nose in their business anyway? It’s not like it matters. They’re not a person, they’re just a role being played. They’re the guy who fixes things and saves people. Please ignore the man behind the mask, he’s fine. Everything’s fine.

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outlast 1-2, doodles 7

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Oscar Isaac behind the scenes of Star Wars: The Last Jedi

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Outlast (2013)

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It doesn't occur to Miles how infrequently he has the opportunity to speak so freely until he's most of the way through his reply. He goes quiet while Lance seems to turn over what he's said, and finds himself faintly embarrassed to have spilled his guts so readily to someone he's tried so hard to put up a good front around. What serves as an additional source of shame is the knowledge that he's only scratched the surface, that there are untold scores of monologues and confessions eating away at him. If only he'd give them voice -- and it's jarring to consider that he even wants to.

At first there isn't much to add, and he merely hums a quiet assent at Lance's assertion that he'd change the past if he could. Miles doesn't judge him for that. He knows that his own feelings on the matter probably indicate more than a few loose screws. Forgoing such horror if the opportunity presented itself is the logical answer. The sane one. But being aware of that fact doesn't change his sense of certainty.

"Ha, yeah, I'm a regular tortured protagonist." It really does sound egotistical when Lance puts it like that, and yet it doesn't feel wrong, either. It's nothing so glamorous as that title usually conveys in fiction, but there is a not insignificant part of him that knows deep down -- buried somewhere in his marrow, or those little animal instinct parts of the brain that evolution has decided to keep around -- that he's ended up exactly as he was always meant to. The knowledge is equal parts unsettling and comforting, the latter of which sensation should probably be a concern all its own.

Now isn't the time to dissect that, though. Not with Lance -- or at least, not yet. He responds to the support with a wry smile and a sigh. It's a little bit like the blind leading the blind, and at the end of the day neither of them can really claim superiority over the other. It's nice, though, to want the best for someone else. To believe that they can conquer what you can't.

"You mean you don't use your trauma as an ice breaker? And here I thought all of this shit was a relatable life experience for most people." He winces at the comment after he makes it -- it's easy to forget, sometimes, that Lance spent time in an institution after his whole... adventure. He doesn't mean to minimize that. "Sorry, I didn't mean-- I'm not trying to downplay it, it just. Happens. Force of habit. But... yeah. I, uh, I appreciate you. Listening, I mean. Any time you want to talk, y'know? That's probably a better outlet than the supernatural dick measuring contest."

"I don't ever make it easy" Lance says with a click of his tongue and a wink, but it lacks the usual over-the-top-attitude of it all, is more of a low effort dig. He's surprised when Miles takes him up on the question, doesn't deflect or has any snarky remark at the ready, though he initially seems to want to do just that.

"It matters to me" is all Lance can say and it's true. It matters, so he waits and listens. All the more surprised when Miles really keeps going and going with this. He listens carefully and patiently as the other does so, doesn't even make any approving or disapproving noises until he's finished.

"Hm" is all he says at first, digesting it.

Fate.

That's what it sounds like. It was always going to happen. Something that he finds...quite interesting actually.

He still doesn't believe in that. Even after going through a timeloop, which is pretty much the fucking definition of everything Upshur'd just said. Still. He likes to believe that just one decision could've and would've changed it all. Not picking Collingwood. Then everyone would still be alive. Maybe this thing never would've even existed to begin with.

"I would" is all he says, and it's the most truthful he's been by far. He would do things differently if he'd known. But that's the thing. Time is linear and shouldn't be changed. Can't be changed. So even though he would, the difference is that he won't either way.

Fuck. This shit makes his head hurt again. Though he can't stop thinking it through. Comparing. He doesn't think it's good that these fucks in Maryland don't have it anymore. Doesn't think that it's bad that he has it either. Doubts that he's doing anything decent with it - it's just good that it's keeping his fucking head straight. He can't even begin to imagine what it would be like if it were gone.

"Look at you. The chosen one" he teases with a smirk in the end, even if the statement tastes like acid in his mouth. Yeah. He remembers them saying that, too. Over and over and over again, no matter how many times he'd told him that he was just...himself. And no one fucking else.

"For what it's worth : I'm rooting for you, man. I really do" he tells Miles earnestly, followed by a nod.

"And thanks. For the insight. Gives me plenty to think about. I don't get to do that very often out here. Try to talk about this stuff with anyone else and they're so fucking eager to throw you right back in the loony bin, right. I've been waiting for something like this, honestly."

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@epocryph from [x]

The immediate threat of getting stabbed has been mitigated at least -- to say nothing of the far more pressing issue of what will happen if they're apprehended. But right now Miles is banking on the notion that the element of surprise coupled with his own abilities will work in their favor, if it comes to that.

He leans around her, as though from here he could possibly see the route she's referring to. The more she says, the less he likes the sound of it. "You sound like you're describing a people dump. Or some kind of high security medical malpractice nightmare." The classic victims go in but they never come out route. Because he's definitely seen that before. What's the alternative, though? They're certainly not getting out the front door. "Alright, yeah, fuck, lead the way."

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It doesn't escape his notice that Kennedy might be tallying him as a potential suspect -- or, at least, as someone not to be trusted. The kind of party you'd rather keep an eye on than risk letting out of your sight in case they end up stabbing you in the back. Don't step out of line. It's not exactly a threat, but it isn't exactly nonthreatening, either. That suits Miles just fine, because he's equally unsure what to make of this alleged agent, himself. At least they're both on the same page in that regard.

"Yeah, must've missed the welcome center on the way in." Humor is met with wry sarcasm, Miles' preferred brand of dry comedy delivered with a slight frown. He's about to respond to Kennedy's self-assurance with something a little more cutting when he spots what catches the man's attention. A sign of life -- faint and distant, but undeniable.

It's hard, sometimes, not to think about where he's been in relation to where he is now. Associations will catch him off guard, familiar little things that reach into his mind and snag on memories he'd rather forget, memories that aren't always his own. The sound of a squeaking door hinge will propel him right back to that night, the heat from his lighter will call to mind images of burning alive, a name he doesn't recognize will rouse in him the memories of someone who does. A light in the distance will remind him of a farmhouse in the dry cold of a desert night, a blind and futile prayer for refuge, bandages on his hands and a scream in his throat and--

He has to remind himself that this isn't Temple Gate. Isn't nearly as itchy. Whatever's out there, it isn't like that. He would've felt it by now if it was. It would have felt it. Slim reassurance maybe, but that's all he has. He picks up his pace to catch up with Kennedy before he's left behind.

"What's your hunch telling you -- friendly or no?" Mostly a rhetorical question, because Miles is never lucky enough to be faced with the former.

Enthusiasm was the very last thing to expect,  otherwise,  he would have been gravely let down by the utter lack of an excited gleam in the man’s eyes the second the agent made his title known.  Formalities,  really.  There were only a few times he did attempt hiding that fact when he was out on a self-assigned job like this one and each time he just proved to himself again what a terrible liar he is.  In fact,  it is not even about lying itself,  but withholding certain scraps of information and keeping them to himself,  which should seem easy.

And it is.

Well,  mostly.  Up until the moment people turn out to be more shrewd and perceptive than he gives them credit for.  Perhaps if he made more effort to look the undercover part,  then he could have a much higher chance of getting by under his middle name.  With the holsters  &  the other gear bulging his jacket and pockets,  he hardly comes across as a civilian who happened to take the wrong route to the gas station after his car gave out its final polluted breath down the serpentine road.

“  Desperate times,  Miles,  ”  curtly said,  not missing the tint of cynicism.  He made sure his little trip stayed under the wraps,  away from the supervising eye.  Letting in a random person he stumbled upon on his secret is not a part of the plan,  though he doubts it could bring much damage,  but there is no harm in leaving him guessing either.  “  Now that I’ve run into you here,  I have to ascertain you don’t step out of line.  Could complicate the case.  ”

Another possibility is that an outbreak has taken place up ahead,  and his enigmatic companion could be one of the unfortunate souls who yet are not aware they are carrying a lethal infection spreading throughout their system.  For Leon,  it would be the real misfired shot in the knee,  coming from his own gun.

“  You didn’t even get to grab a pamphlet?  I was keeping my fingers crossed you know more than me,  ”  he remarks with sudden lightheartedness spiking his voice with a vaguely amused chirp.  “  All I’ve got is my hunch,  but it tends not to fail me.  ”  Beginning to stroll down the path they are on,  vigilant blues scour the area for clues till they land on a light flickering in the distance,  shining behind a cracked window frame.  “  Foreboding, maybe…  Promising, for sure.  ”

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In exchange for your life, do you swear to protect the travelers of the night and bring my vengeance to those who would do them harm?

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Oscar Isaac as Marc Spector in Moon Knight (2022)

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I’ll never forget what they took from me

having a background as someone who prioritizes speaking the truth over the risks that come with it just. says so much about miles as a character and as a person. and I’m perpetually mad that they cut it from the final version of the email. it’s also an interesting counter to the game intro referring to him as ambitious, which I think often gets interpreted as miles having career ambition. but I think it’s more that he’s ambitious about biting off more than he can chew when it comes to seeking justice and stories. I don’t think he actually gives a fuck about his name or reputation. the only time he mentions the potential impact of breaking the mount massive story is in terms of what it will do to murkoff — he never brings up career impact at all