#i felt something so unique after watching the pilot i remember | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

slothgiirl · 3 years ago

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the spy part 1(keith x reader)

8k. explicit content. while on medical leave reader meets the red paladin of voltron during the war against Zarkon.

The corridors are well lit. It’s like being in a brand new hospital, this ship in the rebel fleet.

People hustle around, landing, taking off in smaller ships to distant planets. Your hand goes to your arm. The medic had given you a movement’s leave, so you were resting for now on this ever moving ship.

Outside the widows, you spy an assortment of ships, each one’s origins clear from the design. So many planets, so many peoples banding together against Zarkon. You’d win the war.

It was what you kept telling yourself.

You would.

It was just a matter of time.

You round the corner, stretching your arm across your chest, a simple form of physical therapy in deep space. You hadn’t seen earth since being deployed. The galaxy garrison seemed like a dream from another life. You had been on track for the chemistry department, long term missions to mars to analyze soil and dust, not this, not a war. You take a breath.

And spot the Red Paladin.

He’s one of the most recognizable people in the universe, and his grungy hair and distinctive outfit does him no favors. You’d never seen him before, not in the flesh. Sure. Voltron had saved your ass a handful of times. You wouldn’t have survived the assault on Arrakis if Voltron hadn’t rammed the shield. Trapped. Piloting a fighter craft that was closer to a mosquito irritating the Galra then pushing them back.

But you hardly knew him.

He’s gripping the railing tightly, trying to camouflage into the wall as an alien with crystalline blue skin and hair like saturated indigo leans into him.

The line of his shoulders is taut, brittle.

You don’t even think.

“There you are,” you force yourself to be synthetically cheerful as you smile easily at the paladin, who you realize quickly you don’t know his name but you know what he is and that must be an awful feeling, being so recognizable without being known. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” you lied, elbowing the blue alien out of the way. You could never tell much from a single glance at themis species despite their largely humanoid appearance.

You put your hand on his arm loosely, “come on, we’re late enough and you know how annoyed the others get.” Good, that seemed convincing enough.

The red paladin’s eyes go wide, his mouth a grimace and it’s then that you notice the feverish flush to his skin.

But he doesn’t pull away or argue.

You ignore the alien and decide small talk was the way to go until you put some distance, “I’m kind of hurt you didn’t come visit me while I was healing,” you stick close to the truth, “but since it only took an hour? a varga? for me to heal I won’t hold it against you.” He’s too warm.

Maybe the space flu?

Was that even a thing?

You weren't sure.

Mostly, you snuck into work camps and blew up strategic targets using whatever you could get your hands on to make a bomb. The chemistry came in handy.

He sways as he walks, looking like your roommate at the garrison after a few too many hits after an exam. “Do I know you?”

You flush, embarrassed. “Sorry, I just,” you look back, but the alien’s been left a couple turns back, “you looked uncomfortable.” You take a step back, letting go of him. “Are you okay?”

His expression furrows, mouth a pinched line as he goes from suspicious to annoyed, takes a u-turn back to suspicious as he studies you, before relaxing. “Yeah. yeah. . .who are you?”

You introduce yourself, taking on the meaningless garrison designation at the end, “technically second year member, though I’ve been with the runners mostly.” No designation more than a number.

“You do look human,” he replies simply, moving to get a look at your ears, “not many of those out here.”

“And yet somehow the sentries always look the other way,” you muse, “not very bright. I’m almost convinced the Empire’s in it’s failing bureaucracy days.”

He winces, before deadpanning, “eh, I don’t know how useful a lion is against the DMV.”

You laugh.

He takes slow deliberate breaths, steadying himself, “I’m Keith.”

“Seriously though, do you need to see a medic?” He looked in serious need of a tylenol. The ships were usually crisp, you wore a jacket most of the time to stave off the permanent chill.

Keith shakes his head, chewing his lip before meeting your gaze with an intense concentration in his violet eyes, as if he was gauging how much titrant he could add before hitting the endpoint and if half a drop was worth the risk. “I’m just. . .going through something.”

“Anyone I can call for you?” You weren't about to abandon him here. Sure, he was a paladin and could probably look after himself. But you couldn’t in good conscience walk away.

He swallows, looking down for a moment and you are startled to find how much you miss his attention boring into you with the loveliest eyes you’d ever seen.

“No,” Keith replies mulishly as he jerks away from you. “I’m fine.”

Which was a total lie. It was obvious he wasn’t feeling well but you weren’t about to get on his case. You were sure he had people for that. He wasn’t some random soldier in arms with you that you watched out for and hoped not to have to watch die.

You swallow the bitter thought away, crossing your arms over your chest.

Leaning back against the hall, you watch evenly as Keith stumbles, catching himself on the wall. His mouth is a drawn line of determination.

You didn’t understand why.

There was aid here. It wasn’t the same as crawling through cramped mining tunnels and swallowing back pain forcing yourself to work through it until the mission was accomplished.

“Do you need help,” you ask.

“No.” He leans a hand against the wall.

You raise a brow, wondering if he would pass out for whatever weird space flu he had clearly caught and you could only hope it was nothing like the infections that ran rampant in the work camps, or if he would give in and accept your offer of help. The former seemed more likely.

You don’t ditch him though, focusing your attention on the porthole to the stars.

There was no rush: no reason to help him by force. People didn’t learn if you babied them you’d caught on quick back on earth during your tutoring hours. You had to let them fall and smash their face in sometimes.

So you stay, watching the stars.

Keith makes no move to take another step.

It still got you, looking out into the vastness of space and realizing this really was your life now, you were out here, further than you’d ever dreamed. Everywhere you looked, novel stars, distant planets teaming with life. You could have done without the war, but it was what it was.

“And here I thought Mars would be the furthest I’d go,” you comment more to yourself than Keith.

The red paladin makes a small sound of acknowledgement.

“Earth’s, or was, at the beginning of our space age. People had barely begun to live on the research bases on Mars,” you watch him out of the corner of your eye in case he really does pass out, “so no Star Trek for me but now I’m here.”

“There’s a war going on.”

You turn over to look at him, sort of annoyed because yeah you got that, spent enough time in the trenches without a fancy lion spaceship, but the bubbling annoyance dissipates when you see the upturned corners of his mouth. Keith was teasing you.

Shifting your weight, you add, “yeah well, instead of being a footnote in a Mars base’s history I’ll be a footnote in this war instead.” Gallows humor. You needed a lot of that when regularly infiltrating camps and posing as a slave, as a prisoner, the bottom of the barrel that wouldn’t get a second glance from the Galra soldiers.

He frowns. “I don't think anyone’s just a footnote.”

“I was joking.”

“Oh.” Keith looks away.

You feel bad. “It’s probably better not to be so cynical,” you muse, “but it’s like the vice president thing, no one remembers them unless the president gets assassinated.” God you couldn’t help how dark your humor could veer even when trying to be positive.

He looks over at you, head tilted, considering. Despite being standoffish, Keith was easy to read unlike the slick space pirates you’d encountered.

You meet his gaze head on.

“I might need some help,” he allows.

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth. “If you’re sure,” you utter, regarding him carefully and unable to keep the teasing from your voice. You shouldn’t. You barely knew him and what little you’d learned made it clear he wouldn’t take well to your teasing.

War made quick brothers out of everyone.

But Keith held himself afar.

A questioning glance danced in his uniquely violet eyes as he tried to get a read on you. “I am.”

You nod, stepping besides him and wrapping an arm around his waist. You were always caught by surprise by how heavy a grown adult could be. And depending on the alien. . .

He takes a step, still holding himself afar from you, barely resting any weight on you. His muscles were stiff under your touch, back rigid that matched the uncomfortable look on his chiselled features.

You follow his lead.

At Keith’s sedate pace, it would take quite a while before you dropped him off where you needed to go. Being personable was part of being a leader or it’d lead to mutiny. Not that you had ever gotten that far. The Galaxy Garrison had slapped the graduation badge on your uniform and sent you into space.

You scrabble for familiar territory, earth and the garrison. The Black Paladin was a Garrison member returned from the grave. Rumor had it all the paladins were garrison deserters.

Veronica McCain did share a familiar resemblance with the blue paladin. It was probably true.

“I attended the Garrison campus at Guiana,” you offer. “I was hoping for Texas or Florida to be closer to home, but I didn’t test into pilot or engineer.”

Keith makes a sound in the back of his throat.

Even through the fabric of his uniform, he felt warm. How anybody could be warm in such cold halls was anybody’s guess. A permanent chill had sunk its way into your bones. You missed the humid heat of Guiana.

“It was nice though. The jungle was pretty close and it was always hot,” you tell him. “I thought I wouldn’t miss the humidity, step outside and it was like having just showered but I do. These ships have to be at 15 C.”

“Texas is hot too.” Keith utters quietly.

“Isn’t the desert cold at night though,” you ask, already knowing the answer. It had been basic earth science.

“Yeah. It is.” There’s longing in his voice. You wish he’d say more just to hear him speak.

Warmth spreads, an embarrassing tell, through your cheeks.

“I did miss the snow while there,” you continue, “it didn’t snow much up in Vancouver but it was never as hot as Guiana, and the rain was warm!” You had never gotten over that. The rain would spot and start throughout the day but the sun would keep on shining.

“What were you,” Keith asks bluntly.

“Chemisist, more the physical and inorganic type,” you admit, “it was fun doing wet labs.” That had gotten you hooked back in regular school. “Then got shunted to command track after a few too many volunteering opportunities. Guess the lesson there’s to not try too hard.”

That gets a laugh out of him.

“You,” you ask him as he shifts more of his weight onto you, finally accepting the help he asked for. Stubborn guy.

“Pilot.”

You look over at him, his wild hair brushing against your cheek and the simple action shouldn’t excite you but it does. He was hot with sharp features offset by a certain enthralling earnestness but he could run a comb through his hair.

Keith didn’t seem the pilot type: arrogant, loud, generally strong personalities.

“You any good,” you ask though you’ve heard about Voltron so he has to be pretty fucking good to be part of them. How did Voltron choose its pilots?

He smirks easily, close to a smile at the mere mention of piloting and you knew that moment he loved it: didn’t matter if he was good at it or not. You swallow hard as anticipation buzzes under your skin for no good reason.

Get your head out of the gutter, you tell yourself.

“I’m a pretty good pilot,” Keith answers, somehow managing to sound like he’s stating a fact instead of bragging.

“Just pretty good?” You smile at him, letting him know you were only joking around as you both round another corner, finally making it to the transient quarters. People were always dropping in and out of mobile spaceports like these.

He snorts. “Better than most.” Keith shrugs, smiling over at you.

“Don’t be modest on my account,” you utter, looking away, not sure what to do about the growing heat in your body that had nothing to do with temperature controls.

“It’s true,” he says simply.

Honesty was a hard thing to come by. You were finding more and more reasons to like the red paladin as you reach his current room. No special treatment here.

Or maybe it was politics and optics, making sure everyone knew Voltron was of the people and not aiming to replace Zarkon as rulers of the universe.

Keith places a hand against the door, putting space between you both.

You swallow, glancing away, feeling some of the tension ease.

“You sure you don’t want me to send a medic,” you ask him, looking over at his striking eyes. The heat under your skin is a live wire: you curl your toes in your shoes. People usually didn’t affect you this much. Even the smell of him was so distinct, drawing you in.

It was an unprecedented reaction.

He must feel it too.

Keith studies you with an enraptured fascination shining in his wide eyes, mouth parted on the verge of answering. Both your bodies sway towards each other like branches in the wind: sunflowers orienting towards the sun.

You shift your weight from one foot to another.

It relieves enough tension for you to shift away.

“No. No medic,” Keith finally answers.

“Right then.” But you don’t make a move to leave.

He says nothing.

The silence is broken by the hum of the ship's engines under your feet. People move about and you can hear their footsteps echoing on the metal floors.

Supposedly quintessence powered ships smelled like ozone.

This one was powered by crystals and some Olkari engine. You wouldn't know the specifics, they were beyond you. And not your job.

You look back at him, ready to leave. The space between you could so easily tilt to awkward and you weren’t sure what you were doing or why you found yourself so entranced by Keith. You barely knew him. You didn’t want to be one of the soldiers with a photograph in your pocket and a farflung hope that you’d-

He’s looking at you, cautious, movements slow and deliberate as if he’s caught between thinking and simply doing.

Then Keith’s demeanour becomes determined: deciding to take the leap without looking down. He cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses you.

For a second you’re baffled, trying to figure out how you got to point B when this wasn’t a bar and you had no agenda, before you shrug and kiss him back. Keith was undeniably attractive. He was even a bit taller than you which was compelling, you were on the tall side for a girl.

It’s not some unsolvable thought experiment, you kiss him back.

And a current of static electricity runs through your core. Heat pools after only just a kiss that steals your breath away.

You can’t get enough, his hands warm against your skin, igniting a delicious sensation in your very core. You want more. You kiss him harder, your mouth against his, sucking on his bottom lip.

Your hands clutch at the fabric of his shift.

Keith kisses you back, matching your frenzied energy, his mouth parting against yours and pulling you flush against his chest.

It does nothing to dissolve the tension, the charged energy between you spikes. Like a fire fed by wood it grew.

It was a heady feeling, his hands caressing your cheeks as Keith kissed you with a vigor you thought only existed in soapy dramas. Heat pools in your belly like a sinking stone: you liked his intensity.

Keith pulls away, catching his breath, resting his forehead against yours.

Some of the muddled list clears from your head, now completely in the gutter as you press Keith against the door to his room.

Oh. . .were you really doing this?

Keith looks a fuckable mess, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes. Still, he hesitates.

You can feel the question linger in the air, can feel it in the featherlight touch of his hands ghosting over your cheeks as he makes to pull away, to let you go if you want to turn back now. But you don’t.

You want to run your hands through his hair. You’re practically burning up wondering how Keith would look splayed on the bed between your thighs. . .how he would feel.

Would he be just as intense in bed as he fucked you?

“You feel it too,” he asks quietly.

You furrow your brows, thrown. There were a lot of intense emotions coursing through you all narrowed down to feeling horny as a teenager back on earth. Masturbation only went so far.

You swallow, trying to rack your brain cells together and say something. Yeah. It was a bit. . .much. Space much. But that didn’t make any sense. You hadn’t taken any drinks from strangers.

The connection was too strong to discount the possibility of space weirdness affecting both of you.

“Yeah,” you reply, sounding more whiny than you’d like to. The apex of your thighs throbbed with want. Anticipation had built up and he was right there; Keith

s breath fanned over you, his forehead against yours like a touchpoint.

Your fingers were still curled into the fabric of his shirt.

In the hall.

Where anyone could see.

“So what now,” you ask, “medic?”

Keith snorts, “No. I just-do you want to come inside?”

You smirk. Everyone knew what that meant. There were so many variations with the same outcome.

“Yeah. Okay.” You put a pin in any alien space nonsense and slip inside Keith’s assigned quarters for however long Voltron was here for.

The lights are off. You don’t bother to study the room when Keith crushes his mouth against yours. You stumble around in the dark, feeling emboldened now that he’d voiced an invitation, he wanted this as much as you did, and run your hands up his chest. He was lean and lithe. Keith leans into your touch, a shiver running down his spine when you run your fingers through his hair and run your tongue over his bottom lip.

Keith moans, the sound scratchy from the back of his throat excites you.

It was thrilling to know you could elicit such a response from someone. You liked feeling hot and sexy. And from a guy like Keith who you were vibing with. . .

He finds the jagged hem of your cut tank top, which had doubled as a bandage, and slides his hands under your shirt. His fingers are calloused, skin hot against yours and there was always something so carnal about skin on skin touch. Keith clutches at your sides and leads you backwards.

You trust that he knows the layout.

Your mind has boiled down to simple desires.

“Keith,” you mumble against his mouth as he guides your hips against his and you feel his cock beneath the fabric. It goes straight to your ego: straight to your pussy.

More heat. It’s unbearable how much your body throbs and you moan against him, against his lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling.

“Mhm,” he asks, just as overcome with lust as you were. Keith tilts his head up, and you kiss his jaw, kiss the side of his throat, nipping at the flesh and enjoying the breathy moans he makes as your knees hit the bed.

You want more.

You move your hands to his shoulders, “let's get this off,” you utter softly, pushing at his jacket.

“Okay,” he replies, crowding you against his bed until you have no choice but to sit down. Keith discards his jacket, and pulls his shirt over his head.

Your breath hitches in your throat. It’s dark. You can’t see him well. You still react like a charged electron.

“Now you,” Keith states simply, not exactly a command. It was nice, the lack of mind games and subterfuge.

You scoot up further on the bed, shrugging your bomber jacket off.

He’s watching.

Awkwardness creeps up on you. There was no sexy way to take off a sports bra.

You pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. Then you peel off your sports bra. The elastic worked too well.

Keith’s sitting up on his knees.

“You’re beautiful,” he states.

“Come here,” you utter, inviting him closer.

He complies readily, cupping your cheek and kissing your mouth eagerly, closer to a lover than a random encounter.

You grab his other hand, guiding him up to your chest, to your breast. Keith runs his thumb over your nipple, gooseflesh rises on your skin. He trails bruising kisses down your throat.

Your breath catches in your throat. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you, savoring the feel of his chest against yours.

“Fuck,” you groan as Keith bites down hard at the crook of your neck, harder than you’d expected.

He stills. “I’m-I,” making to pull away.

“No,” you reach for him, tilting his head up as you move to straddle his waist, “it’s okay. I just didn’t expect it.”

“I won’t do it again,” he stammers out.

“I didn't say I didn't like it.” You push him down against the bed, topping him. “Just warn a girl.”

Keith wraps his hands around your hips, tugging at the waistband of your trousers. “These are kind of in the way.”

Laughing, you reply, “could say the same to you.” Your hands pop the button of his jeans.

It’s a fumble to pull your trousers down. Neither of you care, eager to get on with it. He shoves his jeans down his legs along with his boxers.

You straddle Keith, completely naked and lean down to capture his lips against yours. His cock twitches against your thigh and your toes curl up. His tongue runs over your top lip, you part your mouth, letting him in.

You cup his cheeks between your hands, your hips rolling against his.

He thrusts feverishly against you. His fingers dig into your bare hips, skin against skin.

“Come here,” Keith utters hoarsely, “I wanna fuck you.”

“Think I’d rather ride you,” you reply back breathlessly.

“You can do that after,” he whines, a rumble emanating from his chest but your head is too fucked up to make sense of it.

You sit up, hands on his chest. “That’s presumptuous of you.”

Keith grins, wrapping his hands around your wrists, and rolls you over so he’s on top. “Is it,” he asks rhetorically as his hand reaches between your thighs, ghosting over the wetness of your pussy, “when you’re this wet?”

You moan, canting your hips, cashing the feel of his hand, wanting relief. It was a mounting pressure in your belly, a forest fire under your skin and you needed Keith. “Okay. yeah,” you nod, closing your eyes when Keith bent his head and licked a stripe from your nipple to your collarbone. You whimper, lost in the sensation.

“Tell me what you want,” Keith asks.

“Fuck me. Please fuck me,” you utter, you hands clutchinf at his shoulders, bringing him flush agaisnt you.

Keith aquieses.

You bend your knees, spreading your legs as he positions his cock.

“Oh fuck,” Keith mutters as he pushes into you.

Fuck indeed. You moan his name without thought, closing your eyes and laying your head back against the bed. His cock fills you up, sliding into your pussy with ease given how turned on you were.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he stretches you out.

“God, yes,” you utter dazed.

Keith moves his hips. You roll your hips up to meet him. He nips at your collarbone as he thrusts into you with favour.

As promised he fucks you.

Keith captures your mouth in a kiss that catches the moans you make as he reaches between you and runs his thumb over your clit. His pace, the way he was kissing you madly. . .the heat that had been building since you’d met him comes crashing down.

You come.

Leaving you boneless.

“Keith,” you whimper.

“Sh,” he tells you, kissing the shell of your ear, “let me make you feel good.”

“You..sort of already did,” you utter completely fucked out.

“Turn over.” Keith says even as he’s already helping you move, his arms supporting your weight. He presses his lips on the back of your neck, as he grabs a pillow and sets it under you.

You bring up your knees, laying on your legs, “thought I was going to go next,” you tease, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair.

He stills, “if you. . .”

“No. No,” you shrug, “I did ask you to fuck me.”

Keith runs his hands over your shoulders, sliding down your sides. He squeezes your ass with his hands.

“Best two out of three,” you offer, half joking half serious because while you were still blissed out from having just orgasmed, you could already feel your pussy clench with anticipation. Seriously, the effect he had on you-

You can feel his smile against your skin, “If you think you can handle it.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you reply, arching your back into him, titling your head back, and pulling his hair so you could kiss him. It was sloppy, and the angle was awkward, but none of it mattered when Keith stroked your pussy with his fingers, dipping into your wet folds.

Already stimulated, you shudder with pleasure.

Your tongue strokes his in an open mouthed kiss. He tastes as good as he smells, Keith filling up your senses like an incense stick wafting through a room.

He wraps an arm around your chest, his hand caressing your breast, pulling you against his chest, both of you melding together. Keith thrusts his cock into you again.

You squeeze your eyes shut, hand fisting the sheets of his bed, moaning into his mouth.

It was a combination of his cock in you, his thumb rolling your nipple in his hand, that set you aflame.

You couldn’t get enough, your hips jerking back, up to meet his. Keith fucks you against the bed.

He palms your breast in his hand, pulling you up to him, keeping you close as he plants a kiss at the juncture of your ear and jaw, on the side of your neck whilst nipping the skin and you moan, his cock hitting just the right spot as he slams into you.

First he grows comfortable, pulling almost entirely out before thrusting hard as he finds a pace that leaves you both a mess.

“Right there, right there,” you utter.

“Tell me how good I make you feel.”

He punctuates his words with a roll of his hips, his fingers draw a circle around your clit without giving you the satisfaction you desperately seek, already building up to another climax.

You nod jerkily. “So fucking good Keith. Your cock feels so fucking good,” you manage to reply.

He speeds up, faster, deeper, at your words. The bedframe, bolted down into the floor, creaks.

“Just like that.” You moan wantonly. “Right there.”

He responds to your words, pulling out to the head of his cock, teasing your entrance just so before slamming back in.

You shut your eyes and whimper, over sensitive to your very marrow. It was too much. Keith was trailing kisses down your spine, his breath warm, his cock twitching inside your filling every inch of your pussy up.

With a shudder, you come, stars behind your eyelids and short circuiting. You never knew sex could be this amazing. Not in real life.

You got what people meant about the right partner.

The right sexual energy to match.

You collapse, a puppet with its strings cut. Keith’s hand across your chest is the only thing keeping you from melding into the mattress like a blob. His hips thrust against your ass mindlessly, chasing his own climax.

With another couple of thrusts, his hips snapping against you, Keith moans your name and comes undone behind you.

He comes inside you, hot and sticky.

His hand grasps the back of your neck, holding you in place as he comes inside you. It’s unexpectedly hot. You didn’t know you could like this in bed.

You didn’t know how much you liked an obstinate expression with wide eyes until you met Keith. He had the type of soulful eyes you could drown in.

He had drawn out something in you that you hadn’t even been aware of.

Your thoughts center on him as he finishes inside you.

“You take my dick so good,” he says with a surprising amount of softness for what amounts to a one night stand and a pang strikes your chest, wishing you had met him under better circumstances where there might be-

Keith gets off you, slumping next to you on the bed.

There’s a thrum of satisfaction running through you as you look at his face in profile. The insane idea that you might just stay and cuddle plants itself.

That was impossible.

It was time to cut and run.

Sure, he’d fucked you. But he was also still half a stranger. No matter how jumbled your thoughts were, you refused to give into the pull he had on you.

You wanted to lay there with him.

Keith blinks slowly, looking as blissed out as you feel, reaching out a hand towards you, but stopping himself halfway.

You feel a little disappointed, but say nothing. It was just a one off thing you remind yourself, no matter how you felt.

Now that you can think a little more clearly, though the sensation remains like a lump in your throat that starts there no matter how much you swallow, you glance around the dark room. Only the barest red lights on the floor illuminate enough to cast shadows.

Keith’s own eyes reflect the light like a cat. Just a glimmer of traffic sign yellow.

But you’re too tired to think, so you file it away in your head under the nebulous details you’ve learned about the red paladin.

You blink, grimancing as Keith’s come runs down your thigh onto the sheets. At least they weren’t yours.

He closes his eyes.

“I’d say sorry about the mess,” you break the easy silence lulling you into staying there, “but it's your fault,” you tease way too familiarly.

Keith sounds embarrassed when he utters, “sorry about that. I can get carried away.”

You smile softly, tracing over his shadowed form with your eyes but resisting the urge to reach out. That part was over. “It was good.”

“You did mention.”

So he could joke.

You giggle in the darkness that envelopes the room. You were good at being friendly and taking charge but you understood the hesitancy to open up to people you just met.

Keith’s chest makes a rumbling sound akin to a cheetah purring.

You try and hold onto the thought, sure it means something, but the sound draws you in and you lose the battle against yourself, curling up into his side.

He takes this as the permission it is, and tangles his limbs with yours.

A thrum of warmth surges where Keith’s skin touches you and you’re not sure if its his running warm or if it's all in your head or-

your eyes drift closed.

He’s purring.

You know Keith would be embarrassed if you pointed it out.

So you say nothing.

Everything seemed so intangible anyhow. The world had been turned down a notch. The post orgasm glow remained unrivalled.

Even a hit from a bong didn’t measure up.

Your first time had been a real embarrassment (you hadn’t managed to get the boy’s cock in you), this was just a weird quirk of his, and it was soothing.

You close your eyes.

Keith’s breathing is deep and steady, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but don’t feel pressured to check.

It was nice, not scurrying off, not being more than a little drunk. War was exhausting. Earth had only been in it for less than three years. No wonder some aliens were in such shit moods.

You exhale.

There’s no way to mark the passage of time.

The bed shifts under you. Keith runs the back of his hand gently over your shoulder.

Your eyes flutter open.

“So would this be round two or three,” you ask lightly.

Keith smiles lightly, “you did say…”

“I did,” you laugh easily, blushing, the flush creeping from your cheeks to the tips of your ears.

You swing a leg over his waist, straddling him, but not without feeling the start of a soreness in your legs. It doesn’t deter you.

Keith lays back, watching you through his lashes as you sit up. He looks lovely.

You lean down and kiss his mouth, reaching for his cock with your hands. He was already half hard when you wrap your hand around his shaft.

His breath hitches in his throat as you move your hand. It’s been a moment since you’d jerk anyone, but it’s not rocket science. You press kisses down his throat, moving your hand firmly up and down his length until he’s completely hard. You nip at his collarbone, marking him the way he’d left bruising kiss all over you.

His cock twitches in your hand, Keith’s hips thrusting up into you.

Anticipation builds in your belly, but you want to set the pace, stay in charge. So you still your movements.

Keith whines under you, his hands holding your waist.

“Be a good boy for me,” you tell him. “Can you do that?”

“Mm.”

“Use your words.”

“Yeah,” he manages hoarsely, “I can be good.”

You smile, lining him up against your entrance. You shift your hips, teasing his cock against your wet folds, closing your eyes as you moan at the feeling.

Keith thrusts up, trying to get more friction.

You still wanting to drag it out. Though your thighs ached and your pussy throbbed and you wondering if you should just-

You rub his cockhead against your pussy, “oooOH,” you moan. Your nails scratch his chest lightly, trying to steady yourself. Your heart raced, back arching down to him.

“Come here,” Keith groans, his fingers trailing up, asking for more, his hand on the small of your back.

You give in, sinking down onto his cock.

He moans your name, shutting his eyes.

It’s pornographic, the way Keith rises up to meet you, hips bucking against yours, the expanse of his pale throat.

You roll your hips slowly, fucking yourself on his cock. At this angle, the way he filled you-

“Fuck,” Keith moans, “you feel so good.”

“I could say the same,” you reply, sliding against his hips, picking up speed. You hold yourself up, hand on his chest.

You suck in a breath as his cock thrusts into you. Static filled your head as you chased your pleasure, grinding against him. You tilt your head back, moaning his name, everything but Keith becoming background noise.

He palms your breast.

Your breath hitches when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and finger.

“Ah,” you sigh.

Your stomach was taunt.

He doesn’t go further. You sort of wish he would. You trusted Keith not to hurt you. . .too badly.

The idea excites you, as he wraps his hand around your throat.

You match him, curling your fingers in his hair and pulling hard, “look at me,” you try and order but your voice is a whine. You’re too hot and heavy to think.

His cock twitches inside you, filling you up and fuck it felt good to be streched out.

Keith’s thumb strokes the side of your throat, his grip firm. “Do you like this,” he asks, his gaze heavy on you. He was entirely concentrated on you. It was like being worshipped.

It sent a wave of pleasure coursing through your veins.

“I wouldn’t mind if you got rougher,” you admit, finding it easy to trust him.

He looks away.

You falter. Had you read things wrong?

Keith bucks his hips up against you and you let the thought go, sinking onto his cock and groaning, “Keith…”

It was easy to let go when it felt this good. His hand around your throat, fingers digging into your hips, you were sure there’d be bruises tomorrow. Not that anyone would be able to tell from over your uniform.

A shudder runs down your spine, you squirm on his cock mindlessly, thinking about bruises in the shape of his hands, about the marks on your neck you could already feel blooming on your skin. Heat surges in your chest, something primal as your thoughts linger there.

You nails run down his chest, leaving shallow scratches as you try and get a better hold, desperately grinding against Keith, down on the bed, his cock ramming into you. “Fuck,” you think, “fuck. . .Keith. . .”

You can’t stand it.

The pressure in your stomach, the heat scorching your pussy, the sound of Keith’s whines and moans, your name tumbling out of his mouth like a hymn that raised your heart beat, blood pounding in your ears.

Keith squeezes your neck, your throat bobs under his fingers and fuck-

You come.

Your legs tremble, unable to support you any longer as you collapse, a quivering mess on Keith. His hands move down to grip your thighs, pulling you down flush against him, down to the hilt of his cock as he comes, moaning erotically.

The thread of heat doesn’t dissipate entirely as you rest on his chest, boneless and sticky with sweat, but it relaxes and you breath the scent of him in instead of pulling away entirely.

Keith strokes a hand down your spine, an afterthought, “that was. . .”

“Yeah.” You’re exhausted.

You close your eyes, listening to the inhuman rumble of Keith’s chest as it rises and falls with every breath you take.

You end up slipping out. The halls are in the light cycle, but no one bothers you as you walk.

Getting up the next morning is hell.

Your legs are sore, and that’s not even mentioning how much your pussy hurts when you take a step. You take a dose of painkillers still remaining from your injury and check your messages.

Nothing from earth.

That was expected.

The meager universal communications were taken up by the war effort. You still sent your family messages, even if it was just one way. It was a way to keep in touch. It felt like watching starlight and knowing it was millions of years old, a form of time travel.

You shower.

Keith’s come was a mess on the inside of your thighs and the thought is not as gross as it should be, your skin warming up, zapped by static. You run your fingers over your clit and fuck yourself in the shower thinking of the red paladin and his come.

You get out, brushing your hair out, not looking in the mirror at the purple hickies spread out like a constellation on your chest, and realize how weird you were being.

Come was gross.

You hated swallowing so you never did. The tentative relationships at the garrison had been short, you had all been teenagers, and now anything that happened was a one off thing sometimes involving aliens.

You swallow, gripping the counter of your sink. You were horny again.

No.

Not going there.

No space weirdness this morning.

Because you’re on leave for the space equivalent of 6 or 5 days, you don’t have much to do. You get food. It had taken getting used to, and figuring out which brightly colored pastel goo thing was good, but there was a variety. You still had no clue what was plants or animals up in space.

The more liberated planets, the more supplies trickled in. Pirates loved to take a cut.

You eat as soldiers stop by to refuel, fill up on supplies. Despite the stress, you missed being out on the front. Being out of the action sucked.

Sitting around on a spaceship was boring.

It wasn’t like they had shops or movie theaters. Walking around too much ended up with you being in the way.

You clench your jaw, feeling feverish.

And you had just been getting better. . .

You shove the thought away.

You end up watching space TV: reality TV shows like Galra Ninja Warrior and nature docu series on plants, some you’ve been on, before finally sliding your hand under the waistband of your trousers and rubbing your clit.

It takes the edge off, but the heat’s still there, pressed up in the pit of your stomach, cheeks flushes and you sigh, unsatisfied as you click to something other than the marine biomes of Kmeolsuahr. For aliens larger than a schoolbus, they were peaceful creatures. Since they were filter feeders, agriculture had never developed a hold on their planet, but water generators were plentiful.

Yet another show starring Galra. It was the most common type of show in the Empire. Hijacking communications had given this traveling spaceship TV. You were glad for it now.

You curl up, the communicator snug around your wrist translating everything instantaneously. It was the part in the soap where there has to be a duel for honor. What a load of crap.

The two Galra circle each other, close ups of their face like a mexican stand-off. Through TV you got to know the Glara in the empire as more than just soldiers. Spending time in the camps taught you that even Galra citizens could be arrested for treasonous statements against Zarkon.

They make growling alien sounds, something between a jaguar and a sound not found on earth, an underlying clicking that raises the hairs on the back of your neck.

You connect the dots.

The glowing eyes, the purrs and rumbles, and whatever weird alien thing was going on: the red paladin was part Galra.

Only that made no sense.

He was from Earth.

First contact had been what, when the paladins had disappeared? When the Kerberos mission had been abducted, and boy had that made fringe conspiracy theorists happy. . .how could he be part Galra?

Was it even your problem?

Surely this would go away. . .

You were leaving in a little over five days.

You curl up and watch TV until you fall asleep, determined to enjoy the rest while it lasted and your weren’t trudging through waist deep mud.

“Read through the debrief,” a commander with a nebulous rank above you asks. In your line of work, so much was redacted. Information gathering was a fancy way of saying spy. It was why you worked so closely with the rebels.

You don’t even blink at the slight pale easter egg yellow alien, ears that resembled hair, long and droopy like a rabbit: there were four of them. You’d met stranger. “Yeah. Long mission.”

You were not looking forward to being on a planet with an inhospitable surface. A sun close enough that set the surface on fire with it’s rays, no thanks.

Still, it was your assignment.

“It is vital.”

They always said that.

It seemed to be extracting some key players. Who they were remained unknown until you had to know. It was a lot of flying blind to keep information from leaking to the wrong ears. Loose lips sink ships and all that jazz.

“I’ll treat it that way,” you nod, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth. It would be fun flying a hijacked Galra fighter ship. The planet was pretty deep in Empire controlled space.

“And,” the alien looks you up and down like a Garrison RA finding a stain on your uniform during morning inspection, “get rid of that scent.”

“What,” you ask plainly, “scent.”

The alien raises a hairless muscle over its eye. The gesture is human enough. “Voltron has docked here.”

It was subterfuge. Both of you were in the same line of work, you could do this dance in your sleep. “As far as I know, yes.” You are careful to keep your expression neutral, feeling stupid for not having used negating get. It wasn’t even rationed, but used pretty widely. There were many aliens who relied primarily on scent, and those whose sense of smell was far sharper than yours.

“Mm.”

You hold their gaze.

You weren’t one to waver.

“Any further questions?”

“None.”

“Good.”

You walk blithely back to your room, intending to shower, again, and probably take care of the warmth in your gut. The heat was like an uncomfortable itch under your skin that stubbornly remained no matter how much you ignored it.

How was it even possible that Keith was any part alien let alone Galra? You were pretty sure the entire planet would have known if the Galra arrived on the planet.

It was intriguing.

Your mind drew up the details you knew, trying to make them fit. It was half mental exercise, half the urge to actually get to the bottom of this. Keith didn’t look half Glara like Prince Lotor and his gang of misfits. . .quarter, one sixteenth. . .

Occam's Razor.

The mystery occupied your mind as you made it back to your quarters.

Keith is pacing outside your door.

How did he even know where your quarters were?

“Did you sniff your way here,” you ask, genuinely curious. Maybe the traits might not be apparent. . .just how Galra was the red paladin. You were reminded again how little you actually knew him.

Understanding fills his eyes; he knew you knew. Keith looks over at you for a second before ducking his head dejectedly, a straw dog expecting to be run off.

Your heart ached.

How a paladin of Voltron could be so self conscious despite going toe to toe with the Empire on a daily basis. . .you didn’t know. They were only flesh and blood after all.

You take pity on him, “so is this going to be a thing,” the corners of your mouth lift into a small smile. You were still a little sore. You wouldn’t mind going another few rounds. . .

But you needed to clear some things up first.

Just how much of this between you was space Galra funkiness?

Keith snorts, looking up, meeting your searching gaze. His shoulders were still tense, unsure that you weren’t about to tell him to shove off. Not the loner type entirely by choice then, his innate awkwardness must have made it hard to connect.

It wasn’t a problem you’d ever had, rushing into everything headfirst, taking charge.

“Not like there’s a lot of humans to choose from up here,” he says self-deprecatingly.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I’m down for some alien funkiness,” you answer evenly, taking a step towards him. He inhales sharply, looking away again, this time in thought.

The lines of his face increase, clearly uncomfortable, frowning.

“I can’t usually,” Keith admits in a tense voice, “smell this well. . .though I can smell better than Shiro.”

“Shiro?”

“The black paladin,” he explains, surprised he has to explain at all.

You answer his unvoiced question, “everyone tends to focus on the color of the lion rather than the pilot inside.”

“Oh. That’s dumb.” He looks a little relieved at the anonymity that grants.

“Is it just me then,” you ask, getting to the bottom of things.

He nods, meeting your gaze. “I don’t know why but I can’t stop thinking of fucking you,” he says without ceremony.

You find yourself blushing. The connection went both ways, the very alien connection. “Don’t hate me but I think we should go to the medic.”

Keith frowns. “Or we could just fuck.”

“That horny,” you tease, raising a brow, “or was I just that good?”

Keith cusps a hand against your cheek, his thumb running over your lips.

Your mouth parts, the tip of your tongue grazing his thumb.

“So you don’t want to fuck,” Keith asks, a playful smirk on his lips.

You swallow, the urge to say yes right there as his touch on you entranced you, sending desire cascading through your body down to your toes. “This isn’t just alien weirdness is it?” You wanted it to be more.

“No,” he shakes his head, his breath mingling with yours. “That’s-I’m not that impulsive.”

“Good,” you mutter, pressing your body against his, and opening the door to your room.

#keith kogane #vld keith #keith x reader #keith kogane imagine #mine #smut #surprisingly soft for being esentially a take on the whole galra heat thing in fanon #part 2 will b just sex lol #feedback much appreciated (as a motivator too)

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darthzero22 · 3 years ago

Text

You are my savior

Hunter x Neutral Reader

Since you couldn't sleep you decide to keep an eye on the ship, which was in hyperspace, while the others slept. It was not an interesting activity, but it was important. Still, you weren't going to be alone much longer.

In your lap you had Hunter's helmet, somehow you loved it, and it was perhaps because you loved its owner. You were sitting in the pilot's seat and were reading your datapad because you couldn't find any other way to kill time, as you had already cleaned your weapon earlier, which in fact didn't need cleaning. But despite that, what was on your datapad wasn't very interesting either, it seemed like the galaxy was against you to bore you one way or another. Luckily for you, that was about to change.

You kept reading, it must have been the fourth time you had read the same thing, and yet you were still concentrating. That's why you weren't paying attention to your surroundings, so you were clearly startled when you felt a hand on your right shoulder. Out of shock you straighten your back suddenly, dropping your datapad in the process causing it to fall to the floor.

“What…?!” you turn your gaze to your right side. “Hunter!”

“Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you” he rests one knee on the floor to grab your datapad.

“Who said I got scared?” you clears your throat.

Hunter raises his gaze and looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Right. So, that scream you gave was because...?”

“...of happiness to see you?” you smile nervously.

Hunter still had his eyebrow raised, but when he heard you say that, he smiles and laughs without opening his mouth. Then he shakes his head and hands you your datapad, which you take it.

“I looked ridiculous, didn't I?” you asked.

“Just a little, but I still love you”

He gets up from the floor, but first manages to give you a kiss on your right cheek as he stood up, and you smile at that and at what he said to you.

“Were you reading the mission report?”

“I was reading it before... I was so bored that I cleaned my blaster, my knife” you rest a hand on Hunter's helmet, which was still in your lap. “And I cleaned your helmet too”

Hunter looks surprised to hear that, besides seeing that you had his helmet in your lap.

“Did you really do that?” he sits down in the chair next to you.

“Yeah, well...” you give the helmet a little pat. “I saw your helmet on the table and could see it was a little dirty from the mission we had. I wanted to clean it, and I think I did a good job”

“You surely did. Thank you”, he was smiling. “I appreciate it a lot”

You smile and you could feel a warmth in your cheeks, a consequence of seeing Hunter's smile and hearing his sincere words.

“Don't mention it” you clears your throat. “So... you're wondering what I'm doing awake, right?”

“Well, yeah. I was worried when I didn't see you next to me when I woke up, and I hope you didn't have a nightmare” his eyes showed concern for you.

“Oh, no, no. Don't worry, it wasn't a nightmare”

Hunter breathes a sigh of relief, closing his eyes in the process, and when he opens them he looks at you again.

“I am glad to hear that” he leans forward in the chair and rests one hand on your knee. “Is there anything that worries you?”

“No, no. Nothing worries me” you lower your face a little.

Hunter removes his hand from your knee and brings it to your chin, which he grasps very gently to lift your face in the same way. With that you look each other.

“Are you sure, Y/N?” he asked.

“I am” you smile. “Cleaning your helmet gave me peace of mind. I love it, and I also love its owner”

“Please, you'll make me blush” he smiles too.

“Oh, I see. Well, I want you to know that you are my savior. I was bored here reading a report and my savior with his bandana appeared”

“I never thought I was a savior. In that case, a pleasure to save you from your boredom”

After saying this, you bring your faces close together and start kissing. It was a soft, loving kiss, and you two kissed for a few moments, as the feeling of closeness was magnificent. You separate only for lack of air, but you still had your faces and lips close to each other, and that's when you see and hear Hunter let out a small, but beautiful laugh.

“Yeah, you managed to make me blush” he said, with a smile.

You laugh too and grab Hunter's face with both hands to caress his cheeks with your thumbs.

“And to think that the sergeant I met was serious and unfriendly”

“Let's just say a slightly stubborn person has gotten the best of me”

“Wait, wait. Slightly stubborn?”

“Oh, no. Don't try to deny it"

“Fine, fine. As you say, sergeant” you smile.

“Well done, soldier” he smiles too.

You wanted to get up, so you grab Hunter's helmet and get out of your chair. He, who was also standing, watches you walk a couple of steps and then sees you sit on the floor, leaning your back against the wall of the ship. You put the helmet back on your lap and Hunter sits next to you, also leaning his back against the wall of the ship. That's where you move your head and rest it on his shoulder.

“I've read the mission report over and over again"

“Something on your mind?” he rests his cheek on top of your head.

“I thought that again there will be in our file the typical phrase: 'Clone Force 99 disobeyed orders again, and their recruit as well'. It's funny because I used to obey orders”

“Yes, we have to preserve our reputation for not fully obeying orders. But sometimes it is necessary and we know what we are doing. I remember your face in the first mission you had with us, when we just decided to disobey the orders” he rests his elbow on his knee, as he had lifted his leg by resting his foot on the floor.

“Wait. Do you really remember that?”

“Of course I remember. And to think that now you are the first one to disobey orders, even my orders!”

“How quickly I grew up”

You raise your face to look at him and he was looking at you with a raised eyebrow, so you smile.

“I remember your face the first time I disobeyed an order from you” you said.

“Don't make me remember, seriously. Luckily nothing went wrong”

“I remember coming back to the ship and there you were, looking at me with those beautiful eyes of yours and your nose wrinkled in anger. Can you wrinkle your nose? You look adorable like that"

“I appreciate the comment about my eyes, but now that you made me remember that moment, I won't do it. I will not give you the satisfaction"

“Hunter”

“No”

“Please?”

“I said no”

“Fine”

The moment Hunter got careless and dared to look at you, you quickly give him a kiss on the nose and when you pull away you see that he wrinkles it.

“Damn it!”

“Ha! Mission accomplished” you put on a victorious smile. “I will put it in the report and...”

You are interrupted by Hunter, who kisses you, and then you kiss him back. He felt a mix of emotions that he couldn't stand and had the urge to kiss you. While you were kissing, you thought you were very lucky to see that side of him, since he was always serious and focused. What was really a victory for you was to be like this with him, and the kiss tasted just like that: victory.

“I've never felt what I feel when I'm with you, cyare... You are unique” he said after the kiss, his mouth close to yours.

“You are unique, Hunter. You mean everything to me...” you smiled.

“And I am so lucky to have you" he smiles too.

You carefully put Hunter's helmet aside and sit on his lap, then you kiss again. You start stroking his hair, running your fingers gently caressing him, and he caressed your back and waist. These caresses made the kiss become deeper and more loving, and you didn't want to be anywhere else.

#hunter x reader #hunter x you #hunter tbb #hunter the bad batch #hunter bad batch #tbb hunter x you #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x y/n #clone force 99 #clone trooper hunter #tbb #the bad batch

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years ago

Note

Yandere alien Bucky x astronaut darling

I find this request very unique! I’ve never actually thought about this before, so thank you for bringing this creative idea <3

P.S. The action takes place in the future.

The Reason

Pairing: alien!Bucky Barnes x astronaut!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, death of minor characters, allusion to breeding and non-con.

Words: 2985.

_____________________

When you finally managed to open your eyes, everything was pitch black for a couple of minutes. Your body hurt so much as if someone threw you into a well, then pulled your dead body out, and threw it back in. The oxygen mask on your face felt heavy as hell.

You easily recognized the monotonous sounds of life support system since it wasn’t your first space mission. Damn, what had happened? Did you finally get that significant brain damage Dr. Strange was so concerned about? You didn’t remember blacking out so violently after your last spaceflights. This one wasn’t even your longest.

When you saw the room, you stared at the unnaturally high ceiling that you couldn’t blame on your blurry vision. It just didn’t look the same. Did they move the Adaptation Center to a new building or something? Did Dr. Strange mentioned it before? You couldn’t remember, really. You didn’t think he did.

Despite the fact that you felt weightless, moving your body seemed nearly impossible as you struggled to move your legs. Shit, and there you thought those magic drugs NASA offered you last time were way better than their usual treatments.

Wait. You didn’t finish your mission. You weren’t returning to Earth yet as you had around 6 more months to spend in space. Had something happened? Did Dr. Str-

Oh yes. Dr. Strange was dead. You still remembered his face when Sergeant Barnes, an extraterrestrial from Theseus-17, had shot him right in front of you.

When you saved them from their greatly damaged spacecraft, it was five of them: Steve Rogers, the Captain, their leader; Tony Stark, the Pilot; Bruce Banner, the Doctor; Vision, the Pastor, and James Buchanan Barnes, the Soldier. All of them simply used human analogues of their true names, but the members of your crew didn't protest: since Theseus-17 was incredibly far even for your highly technologically advanced spaceships, you knew very little of its inhabitants. Apparently, they attempted to establish a good relationship between your races - especially since you had so much biological similarities. In fact, they might be the closest to humans among other species you had ever encountered before, you thought.

Well, it was true, but you failed to see they would use it to their advantage to the fullest.

They were a militaristic alien race with predominantly male population controlled by stratocratic government. Their planet was three times smaller than Earth, but their technological advancement was unbelievable, especially compared to human's: it allowed them to invade several other small planets and colonize them in the past. However, due to some extreme DNA mutations, their female population was declining decade after decade resulting in zero births over the last five years. The Hydrarirans, as they called themselves, were rapidly facing extinction, Steve told you while explaining the reasons why they were so far from their home.

You had a pretty long talk after Bucky had shot Dr. Strange, and Tony strangled Wong. You barely remembered what had happened next, though you could guess you ended up being drugged by Hydrarians. Fuck. Did you send a signal back to Earth? You couldn't tell. Well, you certainly remembered Dr. Strange sending a message about saving the crew of Theseus-17 spacecraft. If you went missing, it would be a clear sign of something going very wrong.

But you still were God knew where. Gradually becoming extremely nervous with each passing second, you looked at the countless wires attached to your body and started to pull, forcefully taking them out of your skin and silently crying - you didn't remember feeling so much pain since the times of your first space mission. Violently throwing away the oxygen mask, you crawled on the bed until you fell to the floor with a loud thud. Shit.

You stayed there for a couple of minutes, afraid Hydrarians would quickly discover what you were doing, but since you heard nothing, you crawled further from bed to a wide glass wall, your vision still blurry. Where were you? It didn't feel like a spacecraft. It felt like you were brought to an unknown planet, and when you saw two red suns shining in the black sky, you realized it was exactly like Steve described his planet to you.

No, no, it couldn't be. Theseus-17 was God knew how many light years away. Their ship wasn't in the condition to fly you there so fast, yours even less so, and you certainly hadn't been put in a cryostasis. However, how well did you know what technology these alien freaks possessed? What if they could be using some teleport able to cover enormous distances? It could easily be an option.

Crawling further to the window, you had finally reached it and touched its cold surface. It certainly looked and felt like a glass beneath your palm.

The black meadows you stared upon were nothing like the ones you saw from a window of the little house where you spent your childhood. This place was wicked, evil. You could feel it in the air as you inhaled that strange, sickly sweet oxygen or whatever it was. No wonder their women couldn't handle living here, and you wouldn't last here either. It was clear what you were brought here for, and even the thought of it was repulsive to you. How dare they? How barbaric were these freaks, intending to use human women as some breeding machinery? If their military experiments made them facing extinction, then let it be, you thought, horrified and disgusted at the same time.

You rubbed your droopy eyes, feeling the wetness on the back of your palm as you tried not to cry, thinking what were your options except to submit silently to your abductors. How were you going to navigate a ship back home? How were you going to steal a ship? Actually, how were you going to leave this damn room, considering that your body was almost unable to move because of the time you spent in space? Recovery would take quite some time, unless Hydrarians had advanced medical support for cosmonauts. You hoped they did, because spending months to recover while staying with these savages wasn't an option.

Huh, it was better to listen to your mom and become a doctor. Now you'd be sitting in your cabinet and listening to concerns of elderly ladies, not being locked away on a planet with no female population. You had hard times imagining what they would do to you if you end up being thrown in a crowd of mad men yearning for intimacy for years.

Rubbing your eyes again, you exhaled loudly. You were in deep, deep shit.

When the white wall beside you suddenly moved to the side, allowing a tall, menacing man in a black military suit to enter, you held your breath, watching Sergeant Barnes walking into the room. You thought of his metal hand with a red star engraved on it - he could snap your neck with one swift motion if he wanted to, though he could probably do it with his flesh hand, too. Certainly, he was both skilled in combat and cybernetically enhanced, so escaping with him guarding you would be extremely problematic. You'd prefer to meet Vision instead of the grim Soldier.

"What are you doing, woman?" Barnes asked as he saw you on the floor with your back pressed to the glass wall, your arms bleeding from violently tearing the wires of the life support system out of your body. Apparently, you didn't look as good as he expected you to.

"A woman has a name." You said sternly, watching one of your abductors marched through the room and trying your best not to tremble. If he was raised in a stratocratic society, he valued power and strong will more than anything else, probably, so you had to pull yourself together.

“I am sorry.” He suddenly said, bowing his head as he stood right in front of you. “If it pleases you, I will refer to you by your name only, Y/N.”

You blinked, your vision still unfocused and blurry - a part of you was thankful for that since you couldn’t see Soldier’s face clearly. You doubted he looked very friendly, despite talking to you with some respect.

“Don’t touch me.” You commanded as he leaned closer to take you back to bed, his shiny combat boots touching your bare leg just slightly, making you shiver involuntarily.

“We have medication to nurse you back to health, but you still need the life support system. Please, do not resist.” Sergeant Barnes once again tried to pick you up, but you grabbed him by the wrist instead, silently staring at his pale face half-covered by that black mask he wore.

The man got silent and froze on the spot, looking at you with a strange glint in his eyes. He certainly didn’t seem menacing or angry, but there was something in him you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Why wasn’t he upset by your behavior? Soldier didn’t try grabbing you forcefully, nevertheless.

Could it be your contact, then? You might be the first woman to touch him in years. Thinking of it, the very next moment you recoiled, crawling away to increase the distance between you two.

Maybe the man was disappointed, but you couldn’t see it with that blank expression he wore as he suddenly sat down on the floor close to you, and then took his mask away, showing you his rather handsome, yet gloomy face. He looked... human, and it truly scared you.

“I know you think we are a threat to you, but we are not.” He said calmly, watching you. “I will not hurt you. I promise.”

You were ready to laugh at that. “You’ve killed my crew, people who I’d been working with for years.”

“Yes, and I am sorry for that. It was necessary.”

Necessary. What an interesting word he found to describe what he and his comrades had done.

“Don’t you understand what will happen once people from Earth learn about you and things you did?” As he cocked his head to the side, his dark uneven hair falling on his shoulder, you realized he wasn’t scared at all. “We can wipe you out of existence. Even if all of your kind are soldiers, there are billions of us, humans. You aren’t a threat.”

“We are not trying to be one.”

He extended his hand in attempt to touch you, but you recoiled and crawled away a bit further, narrowing your eyes at Sergeant. Whatever he was doing, it couldn’t be good for you.

“Please, do not be afraid. Right now you are the most precious being on our planet, and anyone trying to hurt you will be beheaded at the very least.”

Of course, you were. If Captain told you the truth, you were the one and only young woman on Hydra. You would be treasured, but you dreaded what they would do to you. Even thinking of it made you face twist in revulsion.

“What makes you think using me like a cattle won’t hurt me?”

“A cattle?”

For a few seconds Soldier got silent, and you realized he was searching the meaning of this word - now you managed to see a strange device on his ear that looked like an old Bluetooth garniture or something. Then the man looked at you with a surprised expression on his face, and you felt an urge to bite your tongue to stop thinking how human he appeared now.

“I assure you, you will never be degraded to such an inferior being. On the contrary, we can give you anything you wish for. I know the status of women on Earth is still far from being equal to men’s, but you are godlike to us.”

Carefully lifting his hand again, Barnes had took a shiny black glove from his flesh arm and showed you his hand with five fingers, spreading them for you to see he was as human as you. For the first time you felt like you wanted to cry, and bit down on your lower lip. God, why? Why did he look just like any other man? Why was he trying to seem kind to you? It would be so much easier if he was hurting you, pressing your face into the floor and binding your arms.

“I swear to you on the name of my mother, I will do anything in my power to make you happy.”

Apparently, it was some sacred oath, judging by the way his cold blue eyes gleamed, but you weren’t buying it. Make you happy? The one and only thing he could do was letting you go back home, to your own kind, and allow you to forget what had happened above your ship, the image of Dr. Strange with a wide hole in his chest still making you clench your fists.

“Why are you so sure we are a good substitute? If your own women weren’t able to survive here, what makes you think human females can?”

“Because our extensive research proves it. Moreover, a couple of human females have already been living here for several years.” Your face became distorted with horror at his words. “Captain’s wife was even able to give birth to two healthy children this year. They are the first children to be born on our planet in the last five years.”

“Humans will destroy your planet. They will kill all of you when they learn you’re kidnapping our women!”

“We are already in contact with your kind.” Dropping the glove to the floor, Barnes attempted to smile at you, confirming your suspicions he barely knew how to do it. “It is true, you are much greater in number than we are. But all of us are warriors with far more advanced technology and abundant resources. We will be able to damage your planet heavily before you eradicate each and every of us.”

The more he talked, the harder it was to follow - without the life support system, the lack of oxygen was making it harder for you to breathe, impossible to focus as you started breathing heavier, louder than before, but still refused to come back to bed, staring at the man in front of you with disgust and fear. God, it was better to suffocate than stay here with him.

“Do you know we possess twenty times more the amount of Vibranium you humans do?” Crawling closer to you like a spider, Soldier was watching you with both great interest and concern written all over his face. “We also have tritium and plutonium, too, as well as minerals you do not have on Earth at all. We are ready to trade them for something humans have in abundance.”

You were close to vomit, your eyes tearing up as you rubbed them furiously. You tried convincing yourself no one knew you were going to be captured by ruthless aliens. Of course, no one on Earth knew anything about that. There was no agreement between Theseus-17 and Earth to trade women for Vibranium and other resources. It would be direct violations of human rights and...

And it was very likely of humans to do, considering the lack of resources you had been facing over the last couple of decades.

When you started weeping, horrified of the things awaiting you in the nearest future, Sergeant finally reached you, wiping away your tears with his flesh hand. His touch was very subtle, gentle even, as he tenderly pressed his finger to your cheek, feeling the warmth of your skin. His hand was warm, too.

“It’s not true.” You cried, turning your face to the glass wall and leaving wet marks on it. “They’ll come for me... I won’t become s-some shared property.”

“Of course you will not,” he shushed you gently, enveloping you in what seemed like a hug, lowering your head to his shoulder. “You will be a queen to me. I will treat you right, I swear.”

“You?”

Stilling, you bit down on your tongue, feeling the metallic taste filling your mouth as you drew some blood. Concentrating when your brain was lacking oxygen wasn’t easy, but you could still breathe, inhaling deeply, trying to calm yourself. He said something about Captain’s wife, didn’t he? He said she gave him two children. He said you wouldn’t become a shared property.

Dear Lord.

“I won’t be yours.” You whispered through tears, pushing the man’s chest in desperate attempt to keep him away from you. “I’m not your possession. I won’t be yours!”

You saw him frowning at you, his expression growing darker, more impatient, enraged even as you crawled away from him, your legs too weak to hold you. Oh, he didn’t like you looking at him like that when you realized you were given to him like some prize he won in an amusement park.

But Soldier wasn’t having it. Had you ever thought what it cost him to spend years in combat to earn his privileges, his right to travel among the best of the best? Did you know how much time he travelled across multiple universes to find exactly what he was searching for? Huh, you couldn’t even imagine what he felt when the team got coordinates of your ship, when he saw you for the first time on hologram, smiling and laughing at jokes of Dr. Strange.

Grabbing you forcefully and lifting you off the floor, he raised you in the air above his head, making you silent in fear of being smashed against the floor.

“I have fought for you.” He let out a guttural growl like an animal. “I have killed for you. I have earned my privilege to have you, and no one can challenge my right. You are my woman, and you will stay here with me.”

________________________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @soleil-dor @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @iheartsebastianstan @stargazingfangirl18 @ninefuckingoneone

#bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #yandere #mcu #mcu fanfiction #requests

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twh-news · 3 years ago

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"Loki" Director Kate Herron Talks The Epic Season 1 Finale And The Easter Egg Fans Should Go Back And Listen For | Buzzfeed

Warning: There are MASSIVE spoilers ahead for Season 1 of Loki!

Welp, Loki Season 1 just came to an end and I think it's safe to say that the Marvel Cinematic Universe will never be the same. Following the Season 1 finale, we sat down with director Kate Herron to talk about everything — like how it felt introducing the multiverse and Jonathan Majors to the MCU, casting this incredible ensemble cast, Loki's bisexuality, and so much more. Here's everything we learned:

1. First, Kate has always loved Loki, so she knew she wanted to be involved in the "character's next step" in some way.

"Basically, I love Loki, and I found out they were making a show about him. As a fan, I was like, 'I need to know where he's gone.' Then, I just wanted to know what the story was going to be. I loved the character. I think Tom Hiddleston's performance is amazing. I really wanted to be part of whatever this character's next step was because I think Loki's had one of the best arcs in the MCU."

2. Directing all six episodes of the first season felt like filming a six-hour movie.

"Directing all six episodes was a really unique experience, right? Because normally TV is run through the showrunner system, and Marvel didn't do that on Loki. It was incredible. It was quite an undertaking to do six hours and run it like a giant film. I'm so grateful for the opportunity, and I'm really proud of what we made."

3. When Kate signed on to Loki, only the first few scripts had been written, the "rough shape of the show" was in place, and they knew Loki would be arrested by the TVA.

"When I started, Michael [Waldron] had written the pilot. Then, there was a second episode written by Elissa [Karasik], and Bisha's [Ali] episode was written. So, there was a rough shape of the show. It was already fixed in that Loki was gonna be arrested by the TVA and then it had this twist that he was going to try and solve the mystery of who this other Loki was, but then it pivots and becomes this love story about him falling in love with himself. I just thought that was so inspired and the message that had about self-love. I just really wanted to be part of that."

4. And they always knew the show would end at The Citadel at the End of Time and the multiverse would be born.

"As we dug into it with Kevin Wright, our producer, the studio, Michael, Tom, and also our whole team, I think it was always thinking like what was the best story, in particular during the second half of the show. We always knew they were going to The Citadel, something would happen, and the multiverse would be born, but we didn't necessarily know it would come out of Loki and Sylvie fighting. That idea came out of discussions with me, the writers, and the studio."

5. It was "always the plan" to introduce Jonathan Majors to the MCU during the Loki Season 1 finale.

"I think me and the writers were just like, 'Well, they haven't told us we can't introduce that character. I guess we're doing it.' It was really exciting and I felt really honored that I got to be part of it."

6. Kate was involved with Jonathan's casting for He Who Remains/Kang alongside Peyton Reed, who will direct Ant-Man: Quantumania, and Marvel Studios.

"Being part of the casting discussion with Marvel and Peyton was amazing. It was massive. I was just like, 'Wow, I can't believe I get to be part of this conversation.' Everyone was just so excited about Jonathan. He's one of the best actors. I just couldn't believe we got him."

7. Jonathan brought a lot of "cool ideas to the table" once he was cast, and Kate gave him "space to play."

"He just brought so many cool ideas to the table. I think when you're working with an actor like Jonathan, it's really just about giving him space to play, and let him find the character and give him a cool way to do that. I really enjoyed working with him. We finished the shoot filming in The Citadel, so it was really interesting that we finished filming with Jonathan. I just felt very lucky I got to direct him."

8. Jonathan actually voiced the Time-Keepers in Episode 4, which added to the Wizard of Oz homage.

"Obviously, the Time-Keepers were being made in post, and we hadn't cast anyone [for the voices] yet, and I thought, 'Well, Wizard of Oz. Like it should be the wizard, right?' So I thought it would be cool if it was Jonathan, and I think the key thing then was just working with him in a way that we could disguise his voice. I think the fun thing was, Jonathan is an amazing character actor. So we just sent him the art and he was sending audio clips to me and Kevin Wright and being like, 'What about this voice?' It was just so much fun to do that with him. I think that was just joyful."

9. Kate's favorite Easter egg from Episode 5 was Throg — in fact, Chris Hemsworth recorded new lines and sounds for that small part.

"That one I was very proud of and it was very fun. I had that shot designed for a while. I think I'd seen it in Futurama, and a lot of animation does it, but I love the idea of going through the dirt and it reveals something. I always felt like that shot would be the place to insert an Easter egg. When we had Throg in there, it was so much fun and it was perfect. We also recorded Chris [Hemsworth] for that. It was just so much fun."

10. She also loved the Thanos Copter and said it was a "funny" detail the producers loved from the comics, so they had to include it.

"The Thanos Copter was great. Kevin Wright, our executive producer, was really obsessed with that copter, I was like, 'We have to put the helicopter,' and it was so funny. Episode 5 is our best Easter egg episode. There's so much deliberately because of the nature of The Void as a place where deleted things are sent."

11. There's one Easter egg/detail Kate hasn't seen fans catch onto yet, and it involves a "familiar" voice at the very end of the Season 1 finale.

"The one I would say is — it's less Easter egg and more cool story-wise. So, at the very end of the finale, when Loki is in this alternate TVA, there's a character that runs behind him and is going to the armory and people should listen to the voice. It's very quick, but it's someone familiar."

12. Loki was inspired by numerous iconic sci-fi movies, like Children of Men, Alien, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Metropolis, Starship Troopers, and more.

"Bisha, in the episode [she wrote], she spoke about Children of Men and also Before Sunrise as a reference, so I was really inspired by that and the idea of bringing these sci-fi things together. Across all the TVA, I wanted it to just be a big love letter to sci-fi movies, like Metropolis, Brazil, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, [and] Alien. A reference I could never talk about early was Starship Troopers just because, obviously, the TVA are bad guys and in that movie they also use a lot of propaganda film and we had our Miss Minutes film. So, that movie played a hand. There was so much across the show. We had references from everywhere."

13. And the inspiration for how The Void would look in Episode 5 actually came from Teletubbies.

"I never really spoke much about it, but basically in Episode 5, The Void was originally written like a desert, but when I pitched, I said I thought it would be cool if rather than like a Mad Max desert apocalypse, it's more like an overgrown garden. Like, this is the place where the TVA throw their rubbish in. I just loved the idea of that. I think I realized as it started to unravel that I'd basically pitched the British countryside. As we were building it, I was like, 'Am I just homesick?' I remember trying to explain it to the visual effects artists who were making it, and I was like, 'You know, it's like the Teletubbies. You know, rolling hills just one after another.' So, yeah, the Teletubbies became a useful reference when describing The Void. So, that's how they played a hand in it."

14. Kate was the one who suggested Sophia Di Martino audition for the role of Sylvie.

"Sophia was in a short film of mine called Smear. I was very happy to pay her, finally, for her talent. When we were reading for the role, I was like, 'There's this actor I know and I think we should ask if she wants to read.' Everyone was like, 'Yeah, sure.' So, she read in these audition tapes, and we were all watching the tapes back and I remember everyone at the studio was like, 'Wait, who's that?' And I was like, 'Oh, that's my friend Sophia.' They thought she was amazing."

15. Sophia's audition tape was so good that she was immediately cast.

"Basically, everyone was really excited by her tape and I think she got cast in the room, which is incredible. I was excited because I got to bring my friend along. She's such a good actor. She's fantastic in Flowers and I was just so happy that she was coming along for the ride. I think she's done such a beautiful job with Sylvie."

16. One of the most important things when crafting Sylvie and the other Loki Variants was making sure they were their own characters, and not just Loki copies.

"I think the most important thing, minus just tiny little gestures, was really making it important that Sylvie was her own character and that all the Lokis weren't just 'faded photocopies.' They were all their own Loki. It wasn't even that they stood in a similar way or looked similar, but what in their soul made them a Loki. I love that line, 'Lokis always survive.' That idea goes across all our characters who are Lokis."

17. Casting Sylvie was one of the hardest things, and Sophia was able to bring her own spin to the character and she was the perfect "sparring partner" for Tom.

"Sophia has this talent — and I think Tom has it as well — where she's so funny and naturally so witty and charismatic that you can't take your eyes off her. She's also really good at playing characters with a lot of anger, pain, and vulnerability. I just felt that those qualities were so Loki to me. She brought her own spin on it too. Tom's performance is so iconic, so Sylvie was a tough role to cast because you need to give him a good sparring partner, but also, it's another Loki and people love Loki. So, it was really making sure that she felt distinctive enough that she was different, but also that we gave Tom a really fun actor to play alongside. It was really fun watching them. It was really fun seeing their chemistry grow."

18. Sylvie's fighting style was actually crafted to have similar movements to Loki's, thus showing that they are basically two sides of the same coin.

"I know Tom and Sophia spent a lot of time together. I think the fun thing with Sophia was the little things, like the fighting styles. She has a very different life to our Loki. Loki is very balletic in his fighting style, because he grew up in the palace, whereas Sylvie grew up in apocalypses. So, she was going to fight a bit more like a feral cat. I thought that was fun to play with. We worked with Mo [Ganderton], our stunt coordinator, and it was really fun to find little mirror image stuff they would do when they fight. We did a little bit of that on Lamentis and there's little bits here and there where we've done that. There's also little gestures that they do that are quite similar."

19. Kate had a "four hour" phone call with Owen Wilson before he was cast. They talked about Marvel, Mobius, and Loki.

"Everyone was so excited to cast him. I remember, they were like, 'Kate, just call him and see if he's up for it.' That was a lot of pressure. But then, I spoke to him on the phone and we spoke about Marvel and Loki in Marvel. Also, we talked about what our show was doing, who Mobius was, and then just getting his take on it. It was a very detailed conversation. I think we spoke for like four hours. At the end, he was like, 'I'm in.'"

20. Wunmi Mosaku's role was originally supposed to be a male character, but Kate suggested having an "open casting" because she thought Hunter B-15 would be really great as a female character.

"When I spoke to the studio, I was like, 'This character is cool, but I just think it could be really interesting if this was a female character. So, could we do open casting? We'll have men and women read, and we'll just see who's the best person for the role.' So, Wunmi read for it and just blew everyone away. We were like, 'We have to cast this person!' So, we kind of remade the role, really, around her."

21. Kate loves the idea that Hunter B-15 joins this club of sci-fi female characters who were originally supposed to be men.

"It was cool because I love Ripley in Alien and I love Kara Thrace in Battlestar Galactica. In the original Battlestar, Kara Thrace's character was played by a man, and Ripley in Alien was originally written as a man, so I liked that Hunter B-15 was joining these badass women in sci-fi. That was really cool to me."

22. When Kate pitched her ideas to the studio, she include Gugu Mbatha-Raw as the actor she wanted to play Ravonna.

"Gugu was in my pitch when I spoke to the studio. I was like, 'I think she'll be really great.' I love her work as an actor. From Belle to the episode of Black Mirror she's in, everything she's in is so different. I think that's so interesting with Ravonna because in the comics, Ravonna's been good and bad, and she's such a big character. I was like, 'I'd love to see Gugu's take on that character.' The studio was really excited by that and so was Gugu."

23. Kate said it was "important" to recognize Loki's bisexuality in the show, and she loved how it was naturally worked into a conversation between him and Sylvie.

"It was just important for us to do it in a way that made it canon, acknowledged it, and also done in a way where like, if someone asked me, I would just be matter of fact about it, like, 'Yeah, I'm bi.' I think that was the important thing for it and building it into the conversation. It was important to the whole team and the way that it was written was really beautiful. It felt like the right place to do it because these two characters are starting to open up to each other and are being a bit more honest about who they are. So it felt like the right place to have that moment."

24. The TVA weren't always going to be Variants/humans. That idea was born out of conversations with Kate, the writers, and the rest of the Loki team.

"When I started, I think it was a bit more up in the air with like, who are the Variants who work for the TVA? Are they Variants? They actually weren't Variants when I first joined. Casey was an alien, for example. I think something we all locked onto was it was more effective to make them more human. It was already in there that the Time-Keepers wouldn't be real and that would be a big Wizard of Oz rug pull. But the extra rug pull we added was that, on top of all of that, the TVA don't realize that they're actually Variants."

25. One of the things Kate enjoyed the most was figuring out the "inner workings of the TVA," like how the Minutemen would operate.

"I think it was really fun, in terms of the bigger structural stuff, to work with everyone. Also, figuring out the inner workings of the TVA, like every squad of Minutemen would have a hunter and they'll be little details sprinkled across all the world building in the show. Generally, we always looked at the characters and what was the best story and how to get to the end goal in the most effective way."

26. The season finale intro — which included seeing space, the sacred timeline, and hearing quotes from the MCU and history — was an homage to Contact.

"Basically, Eric Martin, our writer, he'd written in this amazing idea that for the opening we do an homage to Contact, and kind of move through space to the end of time. Then, we'd see the physical timeline, and then we see The Citadel. I love Contact, and I was like, 'Oh, that's so cool.' We took that idea to Darrin [Denlinger], our storyboard artist, and me and him just nerded out about space and about how we wanted to pay homage to Contact but not be completely the same.

So we played with the idea of time and he was bringing in so many cool ideas. But then, the amazing pitch he had as well was like, 'What if when we pull out at the very end, the timeline isn't a straight line like how you guys have been showing it in the show? What if it's actually circular?' I thought it was such a good idea."

27. Kevin Feige helped come up with the idea to include Marvel quotes over the Marvel logo because it was something the MCU had never done before.

"I had this weird idea where I remember saying to my editor, Emma McCleave, I was like, 'Oh, can we add a baby crying or the sounds of the city? And it's like we just hear life.' So her, me, and Kevin Wright got really into that. So we were adding all of these different sounds into the timeline. We also had quotes from just life, not Marvel. Then, we showed that cut to Kevin Feige and the rest of the team.

They all thought it was cool, and then Kevin Feige was like, 'Oh, do you know what? We've never done quotes on the Marvel logo before.' So, we thought that was cool and we added the quotes to the Marvel logo intro. Then, me, Kevin Wright, Emma, and Sarah Bennett, Emma's assistant, decided to just put the MCU quotes across the whole thing."

28. Going from hearing all of the voices in the season finale opening to utter silence in The Citadel was also a way of learning something about He Who Remains.

"I loved the idea of all the noise and this Greek chorus building because when you finally pull out and see The Citadel and how isolated it is, it tells you so much about He Who Remains' psychology because he's surrounded by all this brimming life, but he's completely isolated and alone. I thought it tells you a little bit about his character and who he might be before we see him."29. Kate loves that the season finale opening is a "beautiful handover" from the previous phase of the Marvel Cinematic Universe into this one with the multiverse.

"It was a real group effort, and we were just really excited at the idea of it being this really beautiful handover from the previous phase of Marvel. Also, we get to encapsulate a little bit of our world as well, which was really fun. The editing team put so much time into that. I really want to watch it in a planetarium or something."

29. Kate loves that the season finale opening is a "beautiful handover" from the previous phase of the Marvel Cinematic Universe into this one with the multiverse.

30. And finally, even though Loki sets up a lot of upcoming MCU projects — namely, Spider-Man: No Way Home, Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, and Ant-Man: Quantumania — Kate didn't have a lot of conversations with other MCU directors and writers.

"Kevin Wright and Stephen Broussard from Marvel were our producers on Loki, and they worked with Kevin Feige, Louis [D'Esposito], and Victoria [Alonso]. They always steered us in terms of the Marvel big picture and let us know if anything was off base. It's so secretive at Marvel, so I only spoke to Peyton just because our timelines crossed [with Jonathan]. Generally, Marvel manages everything internally and keeps us all in check."

#loki #loki series #kate herron #interview #article #buzzfeed #loki spoilers #spoilers #loki series spoilers

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stagandsteer · 3 years ago

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Complete transcript of the Wonderland interview, by Catherine Santino, below the cut :)

In 1993, the year in which Freeform’s new thriller series Cruel Summer opens, actor Froy Gutierrez was yet to be born. Chat rooms and beepers, just two of the symbols of 90’s culture featured in the show, were absent in Gutierrez's own childhood. Instead, the 22 year old grew up among the endless, glowing feeds of social media — and the inevitable pressures that they create.

“There’s a kind of self-awareness that comes from growing up with the internet, which everyone in our cast did,” Gutierrez, who stars in the upcoming series, tells me over Zoom — his boyish charm tangible across the screen. “We’re all technically Gen Z or like, older Gen Z. And so you have to unburden yourself from curating a persona online.”

Due to the dizzying evolution of technology in the past two decades, Gutierrez and I had drastically different experiences with the internet growing up — even though he’s only seven years my junior. I fondly remember a time without the prevalence of social media, while Gutierrez was born into an era where internet presence was not only common, but expected.

Like most of Gutierrez’s peers, the actor was active on social media from a young age, but his presence has quietened over the years — even with 1.7 million instagram followers. “If there’s a general consensus on the internet of a certain readership or viewership, you know about it, because people tweet about it directly to you,'' he says. “There’s a kind of lumping in of the character you’re playing with who you are, that people do. I don’t know if it’s intentional. It’s probably just a human thing, but that happens. And it can be hard not to internalize what you read about yourself, you know? Words have power.”

In 2017, Gutierrez appeared on supernatural MTV drama Teen Wolf, a show with a massive internet fandom. Suddenly, fan theories and commentaries about his character, Nolan Holloway, came in droves, something that the young actor wasn’t necessarily prepared for. “I was still a teenager,” he says. “Around that time, you're an adult, but you’re still figuring things out. So I learned where to set my boundaries because I didn’t know where they were beforehand.”

When Cruel Summer came around, Gutierrez assumed he would be portraying the “desirable young male” he was used to auditioning for. “The first time I read the character, it definitely felt like an archetype. When I auditioned for it, I walked in and was very much myself, and Michelle Purple and Jessica Biel responded very well to it.” However, after he got the role and production ramped up, he was pleasantly surprised. “It didn’t really hit me that they were wanting to take him in such a unique direction until I showed up for wardrobe one day to do my first fitting for the pilot,” Gutierrez recalls. “I looked at the mood board for Jamie and it was like, young Heath Ledger, Keanu Reeves and Kurt Cobain. And I was like ‘Oh shit, I need to step my game up,’” he laughs. “I couldn’t get by doing the same thing that I’ve always done when it comes to characters like that.”

Cruel Summer takes place over the course of three years — ‘93, ‘94, and ‘95 — showing splices of each year in every episode. Produced by Jessica Biel, Tia Napolitano, and Michelle Purple, it centres around the kidnapping of a teenage girl and the fallout of the crime in her community in Skylin, Texas. Gutierrez plays Jamie Henson, the boyfriend of the missing girl, Kate. In her absence, a quiet nerd named Jeanette suddenly rises the social ranks and assumes Kate’s place — including dating Jamie. When Kate returns, Jeanette is suspected to be involved in her disappearance, throwing Jamie into some seriously challenging circumstances. His character could easily be a one-dimensional archetype — and truthfully, I expected him to be — but Cruel Summer took the opportunity to explore toxic masculinity and its widespread impact.

We see Jamie caught in the middle of conflict, unsure how to respond to a traumatic event that certainly no teenager expects to be faced with. He’s not a hero, but he’s not a villain either. It’s unclear whether we’re supposed to root for Jamie or not, which makes him that much more interesting to watch. “He talks a lot about his desire to protect the people around him, regardless of whether or not they asked him to protect them,” Gutierrez says of his character. “He kind of superimposes his own idea of what the people around him need. In order to maintain the peace of the people around him, he kind of robs the people around him of their agency. It’s just a really fascinating character to play in that way.”

Gutierrez has also been able to explore the ethics of true crime in a time when the genre is exploding in popularity. Though Cruel Summer is fictional, it questions the effect that public opinion can have on criminal cases — and perhaps more importantly — the well-being of the people involved. “When it comes to the investigation of a crime, you have to weigh the good it can bring into the world versus the bad it can bring. Or making one person seem suspect, or airing the dirty laundry of a private citizen for the viewership of loads of people.”

Despite his eloquent reflections on Jamie throughout our conversation, it’s clear that Gutierrez doesn’t take himself too seriously. He speaks into the camera like we’re old friends on FaceTime, and when my dog unexpectedly jumps into my frame, he gushes excitedly and asks what her name is. He’s able to laugh at himself one minute and share poignant truths the next. It’s refreshing, much like Cruel Summer.

Another likely contributor to the show’s authenticity? The fact that the cast was kept in the dark when it came to overarching plot points. Instead of knowing the show’s trajectory ahead of time, the actors would receive scripts for the next episode while they were filming — and they were subject to change. “We didn’t know where it was going,” Gutierrez says. “And we were told, “‘This might happen here, or this might happen there.’ And it would shift around.”

Without foresight into their character’s arc, the actors have no choice but to focus only on where they were in that moment — a difficult task when a single episode spans three very different years. Gutierrez faced an even greater challenge, as, unlike the two female leads, his character didn’t undergo any drastic physical transformations over the three years.

“I didn’t really compartmentalise the character,” he explains. “I kind of thought of the different years as different phases in my own life. The first year, ‘93, was a complete absence of any regret. You’re still very young, I was just thinking of like, a complete golden retriever,” he laughs. “A 16-year old boy who just wants the best and isn’t aware. ‘94 is me right before I made the decision to go to therapy, where I was making all these bad decisions and I didn’t know why. And then ‘95 was a whole desire to wrestle with those things and really look at yourself in the mirror and take accountability.”

Gutierrez didn’t only infuse personal experience into his behind-the-scenes work — some aspects made it onto the screen. The actor, whose father is Mexican, grew up spending time between Mexico and Texas and is a native Spanish speaker. Because Cruel Summer is set in Texas, Gutierrez suggested creating a similar background for Jamie.

“I was talking with Tia Napolitano, the show-runner, and I was like, ‘Hey, you know what would be really cool? What if the character is half-Mexican, too?’” Gutierrez says. “And she's like, ‘Oh, yeah, let’s write it in the script.’ And I got to write a couple lines in Spanish, which is really cool. [Jamie] could have been this mould of a cool, likeable jock. And then he ended up being this very nuanced human being, which is awesome.”

Though he is learning to appreciate all parts of his heritage, Gutierrez hasn’t always embraced his identity. “I remember feeling like I might have been not American enough for America, and not Mexican enough for Mexico,” he says. “And I remember having a bit of time in which I had an accent in both languages. Even my name — in Mexico I always went by ‘Froylan’, which is my full name. And then in the U.S., I went by Froy, because I thought it would be easier for other people to say.”

He continues: “I identify as Latino, but I”m also very wary of auditioning for Latino roles because I’m aware I don’t look like a typical Latino person. I don’t want to be someone that you can just sub in for that role, when I’m really white and blonde. And so whenever I do get a role like this, one where he’s not written to be any particular direction and we’re able to collaborate, I’m able to inject some of myself in there. So it’s been really cool to embrace all sides of my history.”

But of course, as is true for Gutierrez, Jamie’s cultural background is only a small part of who he is. Cruel Summer is committed to portraying him as a nuanced character that breaks the moulds of masculinity while tackling complex inner conflict. “Living in his shoes and walking in them, a big question that came up for me was, ‘What is the difference between guilt and shame? [Jamie]’s coping mechanism was terrible and unhealthy, and caused more pain for the people around him. But at the same time, the shame that he internalized made it worse for him. One thing I really learned, is that shame is about yourself and beating yourself up. And guilt is about taking accountability and apologising, moving forward without expecting the relationship to come back. It's just about trying to heal what happened and then moving on, on the terms that the other person sets. It’s not about you, and I think that’s what the character learns throughout the show.”

#froy gutierrez #wonderland magazine #froylan gutierrez #interview #cruel summer #catherine santino

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docholligay · 3 years ago

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Divided by Four: Twenty-Seven

It was sunny and clear, but not overly hot, and Tracer sat, her legs crossed, as she sat atop a box by the hangar, watching the plane pull to a slow stop. She closed her eyes and turned her face up to the brightness of the sun, grinning brightly with the joy of it as she practically felt another freckle spring across her nose. It was going to be a wonderful day, and she rocked forward impatiently as the joy of it overtook her.

She heard the large, heavy door swing open, and jumped off the metal box, hands in her pockets as she rocked back and forth impatiently. An overly large and intensely human gorilla, wearing a light blue t-shirt with sunglasses tucked int he pocket, stepped cautiously down the steps of it.

“Win!” Tracer bounced across the tarmac and leapt into his arms without a moment’s thought, “So glad you come, oh, I can’t believe you’ve never been to London, love, greatest city in the world it is, greatest city in the world. And its beautiful today, innit? Not a cloud in the sky, and that’s not every day, love, London must ‘ave showed its best side for you.”

Winston said nothing, only chuckled and hugged her tight.

Tracer jumped down from his arms, breathless with excitement. There was so much, a person couldn’t possibly see all of London in one visit, but she had prepared a tour of what she felt were the highlights of it, which would surely be tempting enough that he would come again. It was hard to resist London, warts and all. There was something about it that got into your bones.

“‘Ave the whole ‘oliday planned! Things I thought you might enjoy, Science Museum, right, maybe a picnic in the park, seeing as it’s so lovely, but of course we ‘ave me family--”

“Lena,” Winston shook his head, “It’s your birthday. Why would you plan it around...I mean,” he adjusted his glasses, “It must feel...important. After.”

She shouldn’t have had another birthday, that’s what they all said, should have been lost to time, should have died, should have been an inescapably shattered husk of a human being, should have been all those things, but she wasn’t. Tracer was born under a lucky star, and had made it back, and she had lived, and she smiled happily in the sunshine on a London summer afternoon.

It had done its work, she supposed. It had ripped her away from the stream of time, and left her with a chronal disability, which wasn’t even an ability people had known you could dis until Tracer had done it. It was true that it had been incredibly painful, that the stress of her loss had very likely killed her father, and that she’d been left with PTSD and stripped of her pilot’s license on top of it all. But she had met Winston, and he was a wonderful friend. She was a field agent, uniquely useful and helpful. London was healing, because of her mission in it.

Nothing was all bad, really.

Besides, the PTSD had responded beautifully to treatment, so really she should stop counting that against it.

“And what could be more thrilling and important than introducing someone to London?” She tugged at the edge of her brightly colored shirt, printed with tropical fish, “I know you said you didn’t want any fuss, but I think you always say that, and seeing as it’s me birthday I decided we need to for oysters, though, won’t spoil me birthday tea with the family.”

“Your family will want to see you without me--”

“Oh no, it’s very important you come to that!” Tracer was bouncing about, nearly vibrating as she continued, “Family’s only met you an ‘andful of times,right, and mostly about the bug jar, love, that’s no fun at all, now is it? They’ll just love you Win, ‘aven’t met all of them--course you know Parvati, and me uncles, well some of them, love, oh you’ve never met me Uncle Clive! Parvati’s dad, right? Just lovely. Met Aunt Lily, but not ‘im, gets ‘er coloring from Clive, Parvati does, though,” she laughed, “suppose you might have figured that, ‘aving looked at Lily, and at Parvati--oh you’ve never met me other cousins! Ollie’s--guess ‘e prefers to be called Oliver now, what’s that for--suppose Ollie Oxton is a bit of a--”

“Lena.” Winston put a hand on her shoulder, smiling, “It’s okay, I’ll go.”

“Terribly excited to ‘ave you. It’ll be a bit different from last year, course…”

Very suddenly, in the way her mind sometimes worked, Tracer felt a great well of sadness rush within her. In a way she hardly had for the rest of the day, excited as she was for Winston to come, she felt the absence of her father. He’d always made breakfast for her, on her birthday, but she’d lit out of the house so quickly that it had slipped her mind. She still couldn’t bear to move into the master bedroom, and so nothing had seemed too different, as long as she never stopped moving.

Tears sprung to her eyes. It was always an annoyance to her, the immediacy and depth with which she felt things. She supposed it had its lovely parts--joy lit her from within quick as a firework, excitement showed in every molecule of her body, and those who loved her most found it very charming--but for an instant, it was as if she’d lost her father all over again, knowing there would be no sloppily-wrapped, but deeply considered present, no kiss on the head and a smile.

She cleared her throat, and wiped away a tear. “Sorry.” she gave a weak laugh, “Forgot I was an orphan for a moment, turned me into a bit of a big girl’s blouse.”

“I--I’m sorry, Lena.”

She took a deep breath and huffed it out, closing her eyes and tipping her head to the sunshine again. “Well. ‘appens to all of us--most of us, at least, don’t it? Way of the world. ‘E would ‘ave ‘ated me ruining me birthday over it, besides.”

Winston took the moment. “He sounds like a, a good father.”

“Oh, absolutely!” Tracer’s eyes sparkled brightly again, the sunshine peeking about the cloud, “You’d ‘ave liked him, Win, everyone did--well--I suppose that can’t possibly be entirely true, but most of them, at the very least. ‘E’s the one taught me to fly, and I told ‘im, I did, that one day I was to be the best pilot in the world, and it turned out to be true, didn’t it, at least for a time---suppose Gunnar’s the best pilot in the world, now? Being only as I don’t ‘ave me license, or I’d win it back from him.” She stopped herself and nodded, trying to slow the stream of thought. “Dad was so proud.”

She paused a moment. God, but the sun was beautiful that day, but not too hot. Maybe it was only coincidence, but it could be possible, somehow, that the beauty of the day was a last gift her father gave her. If it was possible, he certainly would have tried.

“It’s true, don’t you think, that so long as people remember you, there’s still a part of you that’s not really gone?” She was asking Winston, but also herself, but also the air.

Winston nodded. “I think that’s nice.”

Tracer returned the nod, grinning now. Death could take a smile from her, but only for a moment. “I’ll show you the East End. I think all Oxtons just become a part of it, when we go. I won’t go to ‘eaven or ‘ell, assuming either place exists.” She led him by the hand. “I’ll just stay ‘ere among the pigeons! I like that idea, I think. Nothing too fancy for me, thanks, give me the smell of a fish shop over a choir of angels. I wouldn’t ‘ardly fit in, really.”

She giggled and jumped along, Winston hardly knowing what was happening but delighted by it all the same.

“Let me show you where you’ll always find me.”

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todaydreambelieversfic · 4 years ago

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Author Spotlight: Beautifulunseen Day 1

Author: @xbeautifulunseenx

How did you get into Glee and Glee fandom?

Nothing like a long boring story to kick us off…

Tl;dr, I was a fair weather friend until after the show ended and then finally watched all 6 seasons at once. Multiple times. And fell in love with Klaine.

Full story: Initially I ended up watching the Glee pilot because my friend and I were big fans of One Tree Hill, which ended shortly before the Glee pilot aired. We were looking for a new show to get into together and Glee showed up just at the right time. He didn’t love it and I did, but I can’t remember if I watched the first season right away. Eventually when season 2 came around, I had just finished watching A Very Potter Musical and learned about Darren. I heard he was going to be on the show and one of my college roommates at the time watched it as well, so I got back into it for a few episodes. My interest in it trailed off and I didn’t watch again until I saw promos for The Breakup. Then I was mad and didn’t watch again until The Quarterback. It wasn’t until a year or so later that I watched all of the first few seasons.

I didn’t jump into the fandom until a couple of years ago, though. I had just finished re-watching the series and I couldn’t get enough of the Klaine relationship. I was thinking about it all the time and the thought occurred to me that I should see what kind of fanfiction was out there. I went down that rabbit hole and never came out.

In general, what drew you into writing (and/or creating)?

I’ve been writing fanfiction since middle school, so I can’t remember what drew me to it initially. I’ve always loved creating stories in my mind, so I suppose getting them down on paper (yes, real paper! I had so many notebooks filled with HP fic) was exciting.

What was it about Glee that made you decide to write fanfic for it?

Klaine, 1000%. I felt really invested in their relationship and it was so easy to bring a story to life with Kurt and Blaine. I was also inspired by the amazing fics that are out there. I didn’t know about tumblr or AO3 when I first started reading/writing Klaine, so I went on fanfiction.net and searched Klaine fics and sorted by reviews. The first stories I read were Go Your Own Way and Sideways. Great inspiration!

Have you been a part of other fandoms before? Have you written fanfiction pre-glee?

Yes and yes. First Harry Potter and then Twilight fanfiction. (I know.) I didn’t dive into either fandom outside of a little light writing and reading. Glee is my first real fandom experience. I must say I’m both disappointed and grateful that I came into the fandom after the show ended, because I missed all the juicy drama!

Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Quite a few! I would love to write a soulmate fic, but there are so many out there and I like my stories to be as unique as possible. I would try most anything I had an idea for.

Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

I don’t read or write vampire/werewolf/other supernatural/fantasy creature fics with a couple of exceptions (The Sidhe, anyone?). I wouldn’t write mpreg either, but I have read a select few. When I first came into the fandom I never thought I’d read daddies!Klaine, mpreg, or a few other tropes, yet some of the things I thought I’d never read are in my favorites.

How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

At least 3. One involves Kurt finding a homeless Blaine sleeping in his (Kurt’s) car. Based on something that happened in my parents’ neighborhood recently.

***

Check out Beautifulunseen’s Fic

Take It All - A terror attack in New York City threatens life as Kurt and Blaine know it. This is the story of the day that could change everything.

Another Life - Kurt and Blaine are living the dream in New York together, but Kurt questions how his life could be different if he hadn't known Blaine. Kurt makes a birthday wish, never dreaming it would actually come true. But when he wakes up the next morning, he finds his life completely turned upside down.

Let Your Flames Rise - Kurt has a secret insecurity that he's afraid will ruin his relationship with Blaine.

#author spotlight: beautifulunseen

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kirstinmaldonado · 4 years ago

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN 2.0

I remember watching Glee. The pilot episode came out the end of my junior year, and then resumed my senior year of high school when I’d already been chosen and named Show Choir Captain (which of course was the biggest triple threat honor and validation one could have as a senior in the arts, right?). ;)

I’ll remember how I felt after the pilot episode forever. A spark lit up inside of me. Of inspiration? Of drive? Of acceptance?

All three!? It made this little choir nerd feel COOL! I remember being blown away because there was nothing quite like it at the time, representing teens unabashedly following their passions whether it seemed cool or not, right or wrong. To just be! The next morning at school we all chatted about how badass we felt and how we would bring that energy to show choir. How cool it was that such a show came out when we were seniors, in a very “Watch out world, this is OUR year” way!

Little baby Kirstie transferred to Martin High School, with its renowned and arguably top music and theatre program of high schools in that area, for freshman year; which felt simultaneously like a nice clean start and incredibly horrifying. I had a few friends from community theatre but not too many in my grade and not too many that I shared classes with.

I was one of two freshman to make show choir my first year, and while I was excited for such an honor it immediately ostracized me. No one knew who I was or where I had come from, and that made me few friends and a few enemies. Although I wasn’t popular in high school, I don’t think I was unpopular…I ran in the theatre and choir crowd and took all AP classes, even graduating in the top 30 of my almost 1000 person class.

My amazing mother instilled a strong worth ethic in me, so I valued working hard in school. I loved the schedule, I loved taking notes because I liked looking at my handwriting and cursive, how neat it was. I liked to highlight and color code everything so it was easier and more enticing to look at. I loved immersing myself in studies and extracurriculars which I balanced well, the curriculum only made harder if I skipped studying to hang with friends, which then turned in to grueling all nighters.

But…sometimes I’d go to first period exhausted (sliding in to my seat right on time or late, you know how I roll) and there would be a Starbucks coffee on my desk from my best friend Will. Or after school when I’d planned to walk home, my friend Jory would give me a ride, but only after we got snow-cones and belted “If Only” from The Little Mermaid musical in the car all the way home.

That’s just two tiny examples of how amazing my friends, how amazing their hearts were. I cherish my time at high school and the people I met there with all my heart!! I feel so fortunate to have spent the BEST times, the worst times, and all the times in between with them. We explored family hardships and disputes, our own sexualities, our fears, our dreams with each other.

My friends were diverse. They were FUN! They inspired me with their work ethic. We all weren’t even pursuing the same thing, and in a way that made all of our uniqueness that much more precious.

I think that’s how Glee was. A bunch of unique people, all doing their own unique things, then finding each other by sharing a common love and becoming friends.

So senior year show choir, we all became a bunch of Rachel Berrys, Santana Lopezes, Finn Hudsons, you name it. Glee had given us, or at least me, this new sparkly confidence. It reminded me that music was exactly what I loved, and what I wanted to spend my life pursuing.

After I graduated and months flew by, I didn’t watch the show as religiously like I used to. I’d catch a few episodes here and there, ones where the characters development and newfound growth intrigued me, but my life had taken a turn and I just didn’t have the time anymore.

July 13, 2013. I was at my ex’s brother’s wedding when I heard the news.

Cory Monteith had died from an overdose.

I’m not sure if I’ve ever cried about a celebrity’s death before then. Although I hadn’t been close to the show anymore, a part of me felt immediately heartbroken. Heartbroken that he’d been alone, heartbroken that he was doing what he was doing in the first place, but had the ability to keep edging deeper and deeper into a point of no return. I had romanticized about a relationship like Rachel and Finn, I had admired his and all the characters hearts and purpose. I had rooted for him. They in a way, felt like my friends, because that’s how I viewed my friends in high school. He was an everlasting part of why and where I was now, because Scott, Mitch, and I formed our trio for a contest to meet the cast of Glee that first season.

People made fun of me that day. You don’t even know him. Why are you so upset?

I watched The Quarterback and then I couldn’t watch Glee again. Occasionally it came on TV, but it didn’t feel the same to me.

To me, Glee was the first show of its kind, representing and making heroes and stars out of people who would have normally been called losers. I’d never seen representation on screen that made me feel special as a Latina or as someone pursing “not a real career.” As the season progressed it evolved past the cheeky humor and delved in to real-world topics and teenage struggles.

Seven years later, with Naya Rivera being found the day of Cory’s passing, I couldn’t help but feel like he played a role in guiding her home.

I think Naya was incredibly underrated. The show obviously had its main frontrunners, but Naya’s character transcended the “normal” teen woes of wanting to be a star. Through her sarcasm and wit, she was more complex. She had more to hide. She had more to give.

I loved seeing a Latina woman on the screen, a REAL one, not just an actor with darker features. I loved seeing her delve in to her sexuality with her best friend, and her experiences made my own feel valid. I thought what courage it must take to sit down with your hispanic grandmother, who you love so dearly, and be able to share a part of them that they maybe wouldn’t understand. I was crying from the second that scene started, thinking I’d maybe never have the courage to be that open.

I’ve thought of Naya and her family a lot this week. I’ve seen how many people loved her. While I never met her, I know her and the rest of the cast left a special mark on my life journey, and I will forever be grateful for them, and her.

I will remember show choir practices, in our sparkly, itchy outfits, preparing for contest.

I will remember sneaking up in to the auditorium catwalk to sneak kisses with my best friend.

I will remember making the silliest videos when we all went to All-State choir.

I will remember belting and dancing on our cars to “Don’t Stop Believing” at the local Starbucks parking lot.

I will remember holding my friends tight crying as we all wore our different college shirts in our final performance as a show choir, having no idea that I was about to go out and be a part of something greater.

Glee brought together a hodgepodge of people. And that’s what Pentatonix was too. And it brought us together.

So I guess at the end of the day, all I want to say is… thank you, to Glee. To Cory. To Naya.

For creating special characters, that lit that special spark.

Rest in peace.

#blog 2.0

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choppedcowboydinosaur · 3 years ago

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Godzilla vs Kong review

I really liked this movie. It has some really great fights. In fact I’d go as far to say it has some of the best fights in the Monsterverse so far. The fights are brutal and they don’t hold back. I love the viciousness of it. You have Kong and Godzilla going at it and they always change things up in the fight so its unique and never boring. Like in Hong Kong Godzilla goes on all fours just to bite Kongs feet. I’ve never seen him do that before. They even throw in some fun easter eggs like Kong shoving the handle of his axe down Godzilla’s throat as a reference to Kong shoving the tree down Godzilla’s throat. And the thing is it never comes off as distracting.

The human side of the story was kind of weak but serviceable. Weirdly enough the team Kong humans and team Godzilla humans never interact which I’m torn on. It would be interesting to see them interact but I don’t know if that would drag the film down.

The one human character I found disappointing was Ren Serizawa. He’s the son of Serizawa so you’d think he’d be a big character and a dangerous opponent since he’d know the ins and outs of Monarch. Instead he’s just there to pilot Mechagodzilla. I would’ve like to see him get some characterization. Even something like him being angry at his dad for being more interested in monsters than his own son. It’d be cliche but it would at least be something.

On Mechagodzilla it took me some time to get used to his design. He’s more boxy and bulky in this like a transformer and weirdly enough he reminds me of the Showa Era Mechagodzilla. I guess it’s all the rockets he has that does it. Personally, I always preferred Kiryu since he was sleek yet deadly. He had a long tail and felt like a real mech that could exist. Mechagozilla in this movie is brutal and I love it. He has a long tail which is nice and he has a spinning drill thing which was a neat touch. His design is a bit more basic yet it works in a way since he does appear a bit skeletal and has all these tricks underneath his armor so it surprises you. At first I was confused if Mechagodzilla gained sentience from the energy source after frying Ren’s brain or if Kevin was possesing Mechagodzilla. I thought about it over time and I think it’s Kevin possessing Mechagodzilla. I don’t think this version of Mechagodzilla is my favorite but he is an interesting incarnation of the character that is fun to watch.

I love the hollow earth. It’s so weird and creative. It shows some bizarre creatures and hints at a larger world. Even the way gravity works there is bizarre. Like when Kong jumps in the air and starts floating and lands on the other side of the canyon. Its kind of surreal to watch. The Warbats look cool and remind me of Kobra from Godzilla the Series from the 90′s. I wonder if Quetzlcoatl is a feathered Warbat? I look forward to them exploring the Hollow Earth some more. I’d like to see how the ecosystem there works. How does the food chain work? Where is that light source coming from? It gives you a tease they’ve been building up through out this film series and I want to see more.

I know they cut scenes from the film and it feels significant. I remember seeing stills on the internet of Alexander Skarsgard punching out a guy on a beach in Waimanalo. Or a still of some bully giving Emma Russel grief at school. Those scenes are never in the film. I even remember hearing a rumor Giancarlo Esposito was supposed to be in the movie yet he wasn’t. I kind of wonder what those scenes would have looked like. Would it have helped or hurt the film? I’m not sure but I am curious to see what it would have looked like.

The soundtrack is surprisingly good in this movie. It’s by Junkie XL who I’m normally not a big fan of but here it works. You get a sense of power and energy from it. It kind of reminds me of Primal Rage almost.

Regarding who won I think Godzilla won in the end. The way I interpret it is Godzilla beat Kong in the third fight and in the end he respects Kong and Kong respects him. Kong recognizes Godzilla as the Alpha, while Godzilla recognizes Kong as a worthy opponent that deserves respect. I know some fans will interpret it how they want to on whether or not Kong or Godzilla won. I think that’s inevitable since some fans will just see things their way and twist the scenes to make it fit. It’s human nature. Overall, I liked this movie. It’s a big dumb fun monster mash and it does that extremely well. I look forward to seeing more of the Monsterverse if they decide to continue it. If they don’t, at least they ended on a high note.

#godzilla vs kong #godzilla #king kong #movie review #spoilers #kaiju #monsterverse #personal

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sweet-evie · 4 years ago

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I really felt annoyed on that kallen and lelouch scene where kallen landed on top of him in a sense where both has something to go back after the battle i mean lelouch was asking her to go back with him, I just felt where would c.c. be after the battle, will she be forgotten after it? Will it be like okay c.c. your job here is done you may go and we will go back to our own ordinary lives, will lelouch just let her go if she decided to go....lol and the list go on, (this is me speaking beyond shipping and as a c.c. enthusiast) and if i didn't know that the director is pushing c.c. and lelouch to each other i will forever hate the series cuz c.c. deserves the best (i mean its very obvious with the official arts and scenes and i remember reading something about it before) (can we also assume that c.c. got jealous on that part too lol what would happen if c.c. didn't speak about tabasco will they kiss? lol) I also really have a love hate feeling w/ kallen, she is really a good pilot and i kinda ship him sometimes with suzaku, sometimes not because i love him with euphie, but really that tension whenever they are together fighting or not Idk if its their strong and badass character but they really look good and compatible with each other but then I really love her with Gino the most lol i mean if i find kallen and suzaku compatible then i find kallen and gino most compatible hahaha Its just that kallen can show that she can be weak/soft can be tired or can breakdown (and not the always strong her) with gino. (I hope you can understand this part) I love it when gino picked her up after her battle with suzaku. How I wished gino appeared more in the series, was introduce early and they had scenes more together. I sometimes dislike her cuz she is over reacting in a lot of times like she is just too much and almost in par with nina's reaction most of the times haha (i kinda dislike/hate kxl scenes in a sense too that its one sided like its mostly k and l shows no interest but sometimes it look like there is a mutual feeling between both of them(i mostly felt its one sided shen watching the movie especially the resurrection) (What can you say about their scenes?, when he put jacket to her while she was wearing bunny girl costume, the refrain scene, when she fell on top of him, when she was captured, their kiss? etc.) BUT if you look at c.c. and lelouch relationship and scenes together its just too consistent lol i just love it how lelouch always assured and pursued her from that rooftop scene after battling with Mao, if she is a witch then he'll became a warlock, when he discovered and promised her about fulfilling her true wish, when she asked him if he hated her for giving him the power of geass and about to do something if kallen did not interrupt and bonus: that resurrection scene when he decided to become L.L. (I LOVE WRITING THIS PART OF ASSURANCE AND PURSUING ABT CLUCLU, MY FAVORITE XD, pls add some if i forgot something) i also kinda agreed to that statement except c.c. part lol going around that Shirley -> Lelouch Lamperouge, Kallen -> Zero and C.C. -> Lelouch Vi Britania but doesn't C.C. knows all lelouch's persona and had been supportive and stayed with him from the very start and in whatever path he chose? 😂 I hate it that people come at c.c.'s age and that she witness lelouch grow up like, is her immortality her fault? Like people are okay for male characters of 123456790 age falling for main girls in dramas or some animes for example but not okay if its c.c. lol SORRY THIS POST IS SO LONG it was supposed to be focus only on the first part about THAT scene 🙏

Whoa~ You’re not lying, this is one hell of an ask 🤣😂😅 I read 4 topics in this xD:

Lelouch, Kallen, C.C. scene

Kallen ships (Suzaku or Gino)

Kallen x Lelouch vs C.C. x Lelouch

C.C. & Lelouch's Age-gap

Let’s go in!

Lelouch, Kallen, & C.C. Scene

(can we also assume that c.c. got jealous on that part too lol what would happen if c.c. didn't speak about tabasco will they kiss? lol)

Maybe, but who knows, to be honest. xD The whole interaction was very impulsive, considering the fact that Lelouch was still fresh off of bouncing back from his depression, which Kallen had witnessed and was at the brunt end of.

When Kallen fell on top of Lelouch, I do believe both of them were thinking about that one moment where Lelouch tried to use Kallen to forget his current circumstances. Perhaps part of Kallen wanted it, but knew it wasn’t right. So I adore her for bitch-slapping him. xD The idiot deserved it.

C.C. was just there... I’m not sure if she was jealous or not. Maybe she didn’t give a fuck xD Before I could form my own conclusions, the entire scene is interrupted again because Zero gets called out into the control room.

Kallen Ships (Suzaku vs Gino)

I agree with most of your points in this part.

Personally, in my own fics, I ship Kallen with Gino a lot because for me, Suzaku belongs with Euphemia by default.

But, I do see the chemistry and the sexual tension that could go between Suzaku and Kallen. Like maybe their fights are really just unresolved sexual tension 😂🤣

I imagine a romance between them would be very explosive, passionate, and rough. I don’t just mean this in terms of sex, I imagine their entire dynamic would swing this way too. They’re really opinionated, and they both literally fight for what they believe in, and their conviction is strong enough to rival each other’s.

Suzaku and Kallen just clash magnificently. On the other hand, Gino’s and Kallen’s personalities probably combine. They have things in common, but not too much to the point of being passionate and aggressive at the same time.

KaLulu vs CLuCLu

What can you say about their scenes?, when he put jacket to her while she was wearing bunny girl costume, the refrain scene, when she fell on top of him, when she was captured, their kiss? etc.

In that scene where he put his jacket on her, I think that’s gentlemanly of Lelouch. It’s something I expect from him considering he was born a prince, and also, he has a little sister. On a sidenote, I adore both him and Suzaku for being respectful towards the women in their circle, for the most part.

That refrain scene was a moment of grief for Lelouch and he was being erratic. I said it once or twice, I’ll say it again. I am so happy Kallen bitch-slapped him. It shows that she’s not willing to put up with bullshit, and believes that Lelouch is definitely better than that. Kudos to her, she may have slapped him to his senses. For Kallen, it was a moment of, “Please be who we need you to be.”

It was a brilliant turning point for Lelouch as well. After Nunnally was given the role of Viceroy, Lelouch, at least, realized that his war and his rebellion against Britannia wasn’t just for his sister anymore. It was for everyone he cared about too. It was for the people who counted on Zero’s idea of freedom and perhaps peace.

In summary, I made my stance clear on KaLulu on a separate post long ago. But the gist was, they may have felt romantic feelings for each other, but it was probably brief and suppressed in favor of their grander goals and all that shit that was already going down. Romance just wasn’t appropriate for Lelouch or any of the characters who had something at stake in the war.

In the end, Kallen chose Japan, and Lelouch chose Zero Requiem. That is that. 😊

BUT if you look at c.c. and lelouch relationship and scenes together its just too consistent

Lelouch & C.C.’s relationship is a slow-burn from the get-go. It’s part of the reason why it’s so appealing to me.

Let’s be honest, Lelouch doesn’t even view C.C. as human until halfway to R1, and C.C. took almost all of 2 seasons to acknowledge the fact that she cared about Lelouch.

i also kinda agreed to that statement except c.c. part lol going around that Shirley -> Lelouch Lamperouge, Kallen -> Zero and C.C. -> Lelouch Vi Britania

I understand why a lot of people like this argument. I, for one, believe there’s a grain of truth in it.

BUT in my own honest opinion, I think that is a little unfair to Kallen and Shirley. I’m sure Lelouch cared about the two of them in unique ways and perhaps chose to hide behind masks around them to protect them and to preserve his own façade. Hell, he lied to his own sister for most of the entire show because he thought it would protect her and would shield her from the horrors of the world. (It didn’t turn out well, did it? 🤣) Still, my point is, Shirley and Kallen would have been willing to understand and know Lelouch’s every mask. Lelouch himself, just didn’t let them. And it was for their own good, I believe.

So why C.C.?

If there’s anyone in the world who can understand people’s multiple points of view, it would probably be C.C... She lived through most of mankind’s history, and she’s been alive long enough to take multiple perspectives in, meet different types of people, and see lots of ridiculous shit xD Lelouch slowly becomes aware of this fact as the series progresses, and we do see him have deep conversations with her from time to time. She’s capable of being objective. She knocks some sense into him a lot, especially during the beginning. One notable example of this that I will never forget is the episode after Lelouch realized Shirley’s father died because of his actions. It showed how immature Lelouch was being and how idealistic -- thinking war only took out the bad guys in his side of the story. Point is, she knows when to chastise him and when to offer her consolation, which is part of the reason why Lelouch would pick her as accomplice anyway.

but doesn't C.C. knows all lelouch's persona and had been supportive and stayed with him from the very start and in whatever path he chose?\

C.C. does know him. But I wouldn’t go so far as to say ‘supportive’, nonetheless wholly supportive.

C.C. had her self-serving reasons, just like Lelouch. C.C. was looking forward to the moment Lelouch could acquire enough power and take her Code from her, so she could die. That’s why she saved his ass a lot in R1 and perhaps at the very beginning of R2. Her wishes and her intentions morph very slowly, and at one point, perhaps even blended together -- half still wanted to die, the other half was slowly empathizing and caring for Lelouch.

But yes, none can deny that she stayed with him from start to finish.

C.C. could have left after Charles & Marianne died, and I don’t think Lelouch would have blamed her if she did -- considering it was obvious that he couldn’t fulfill his end of the contract anymore. But she stayed. She stayed and helped, and kept her promise to stay with him to the very end.

Lelouch & C.C.’s Age Gap

I hate it that people come at c.c.'s age and that she witness lelouch grow up like, is her immortality her fault? Like people are okay for male characters of 123456790 age falling for main girls in dramas or some animes for example but not okay if its c.c. lol

Lelouch & C.C.’s bizarre age-gap is literally not any different from an age-old vampire or any other immortal falling in-love with a human.

I can certainly point out plenty of stories that half this same massive age-gap, and its fans still love it.

#lelouch x c.c.#lelouch x kallen #suzaku x kallen #cluclu #lulucc #code geass #wbad ask me #wbad blog

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starcrossed-pharaoh · 4 years ago

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Red Crackle Breakdown

Itstalkcartoons recently had a live stream interview with Carmen Sandiego’s showrunner Duane Capizzi, I’ve seen some thoughts on tumblr so after watching the interview I thought I’d drop down some direct quotes and talk about what happened. You can find the interview on Istalkcartoon’s IG page, it’s about an hour and a half long full of other tidbits about the characters and the show so definitely check it out if you’re interested. The post below will have spoilers from season 1 - season 4 so if you haven’t seen it yet, do not read below.

- Duane confirms that Gray is the most complex character and has the most complex arc of anyone in the show.

- Gray’s story was meant to be wrapped up in the season 1 pilot. Duane created his story for that episode only. After the pilot, the Writer’s Room was developed and he was blown away by the interest that people had in Gray as a character. It was from there they decided to go with the ‘amnesia’ arc to expand and enrich his character.

- Duane confirms that in the pilot episode, at that point in time, Gray “was willing to kill her [Carmen] for V.I.L.E on the train”. He says a little earlier to this quote that “we know Gray has good qualities, from his days back at the school protecting Black Sheep, but he’s still a criminal, still a sociopath” and he admits that this is a controversial opinion of the character. “He [Gray] says one of the most awful things to her, that anybody in the series has ever said, something like ‘You proved yourself to V.I.L.E, that’s all you ever wanted, wasn’t it?’ and it’s so demeaning.” By Carmen leaving him gift-wrapped in her coat on the train, Gray “got what he deserved” and Carmen “moved on”.

So what we do know is that despite Gray and Black Sheep being very close on the island, when Black Sheep defected, no matter how hard Gray could have found this he was still grimly determined to kill Carmen for V.I.L.E. This is heart breaking, not only for their friendship, but because of the successful brainwashing and nurturing of sociopathic tendencies that V.I.L.E did to these barely legal adults. Carmen clearly proved herself unique to this, she had the longest exposure to villains and brainwashing on the island, but her innate empathy for others won over her drive for success.

I suppose, we don’t know exactly what the lives of the other V.I.L.E members were like. We know from season 4 that Gray’s drive was to be successful, he was a junior technician at the Sydney Opera House and wanted more out of his life. But V.I.L.E is, essentially, a cult. V.I.L.E engages in mind altering practises, cull dissenters, dictate their students’ beliefs, education, social communities. They clearly target and prey on teenagers with specific skill sets, who likely have specific backgrounds that make them more vulnerable in society, or more likely to respond to a vigilante or criminal way of living. They clearly make sure that their students know V.I.L.E is their entire life, their entire community, and if you want that: you need to follow the rules.

It’s not too surprising to me that Gray is like this in the pilot. He’s a complex character leaning into sociopathic tendencies, he was written to be that way.

- Gray’s arc changes with his amnesia. Duane confirms Bellum created nice guy Graham Calloway onto Gray, it was a personality “grafted onto him” that opposes his personality in the pilot. Carmen protects Graham Calloway, she recognises that he isn’t the ‘V.I.L.E Gray’ and that he is innocent and has the potential for a do-over. This shows Carmen’s true selflessness, despite her ex-best friend trying to essentially kill her/take her down, she sees he doesn’t remember any of that and believes in his goodness. So much so that she protects it. It’s the opposite of where Gray was in the beginning.

- Tragically, when Gray gets his memories back, he does revert back to V.I.L.E. Duane does not confirm exactly why this is but he does say that Gray was never good enough for Carmen up until the finale. We can theorize and infer a lot from what he’s told us of Gray’s character, despite the good qualities he does have, he struggles with doing the right thing. How much of Gray is because of V.I.L.E’s cult-like brainwashing and how much of it is due to Gray’s own chaotic morality and ambition is up to interpretation. I’m of the belief it’s a strong mix of both. In saying that, I’d like to think Gray’s aware that if he defects with Carmen, he knows he’s as good as dead. Graham Calloway might have believed Professor Maelstrom would let him walk free, but Gray is not so naive. He made his choice a long time ago and taking Carmen’s hand is not just about caring about her, it’s choosing a side and who he wants to be.

Just because Gray doesn’t join Carmen doesn’t mean his arc is entirely reverted though. In the pilot, he was willing to kill her. After knowing her through the eyes of Graham Calloway, and having the empathy and naivety and kindness of Graham Calloway literally injected into him, Gray truly feels regret and empathy. V.I.L.E unintentionally gave Gray a huge gift they likely never foresaw: a different perspective. He regrets ever hurting Carmen and never wants to do so again. That’s a huge step from where he was at the beginning, but is it enough to leave what he’s familiar and used to?

There’s a lot to unpack there that I won’t go into because this is long enough. I think it’d be interesting to go more in depth about the psychology of cults and how future Gray and future Carmen would assimilate the personalities they were forced into. Do those personalities go away when the memories come back? Can the trauma of it cause black outs and more memory loss? What does it do to your mental health? Do you assimilate it into who you are? But I digress

- The most important part of Gray’s arc is in the finale. As Duane says, it’s Gray’s “coming of age, when he becomes a real person” and he does so by showing what Carmen stood for: true selflessness. There’s a bitter irony to Gray’s ambitions of success, his desire to work with Carmen as a team, pulling off successful and incredible heists ... all his dreams are coming true. But she takes more risks, he’s shocked by her ruthless and individualistic impulses, he knows it isn’t truly her, and whatever he could excuse before, he knows it’s wrong. He chose to be a criminal, Carmen didn’t. The final thing that gets through to him is what Gray knows she can never take back: killing Shadowsan. He defects and betrays, not for himself, not for success, not for anything except for her. He’ll risk getting killed, imprisoned, he’ll even betray this Carmen, out of a true selflessness for her to be herself again. He proves he has become a person good enough for Carmen Sandiego.

- I also absolutely love that at some point he changed his Crackle Rod to stun mode as a ‘maximum setting’. He didn’t plan for Carmen to be able to use it against him because he thought she couldn’t use it, so for awhile now he’s been ‘stunning’ people instead of killing them. Even though he returned to V.I.L.E, he came back as a changed person.

- His decision in the hospital room was also quite tragic, he didn’t want to complicate her life any further and Duane confirms he felt shame over his actions. That it was the right narrative at the time. I agree with this, though I’m a RedCrackle shipper at heart, the writer in me recognises the parallels of Carmen selflessly staying away from Gray to not ‘complicate’ his new beginning, and now Gray showing the same selflessness is a mirror to me that they’re on equal footing. (But also, please meet up again and talk to each other, because they’re the only ones who have gone through traumatic memory altering and personality grafting and there’s bound to be mental issues with that and they could help each other!)

And now, some talk by Duane on some RedCrackle hints:

- Carmen [on V.I.L.E island] was at an age where she probably didn’t know how to interpret her feelings for him, referencing when she called him a big brother to her. She tells Player she cares about him but doesn’t specifically reference that this is romantic or not

- 100% Graham was flirting with her in Australia

- They absolutely will meet up again in the future.

Anyway, I’ve seen some things circulating about the interview on Tumblr and I just wanted to provide some context and quotes from the interview. It was surprising to me that we were to read Gray as someone ruthless enough to kill Carmen in the pilot, because I didn’t interpret that exactly from my viewing, but I suppose that’s the great thing about art: it’s your interpretation. It also makes sense to me that Gray was written for the pilot and it was the Writer’s Room afterwards that took his character in new ways, just proof of organic storytelling. I also love that in the interview, he doesn’t specify any of the pairings as canon but if we saw things happen between characters or implied by a character, it was intentional, and I love that.

Definitely check out the interview for yourselves on Itstalkcartoon’s IG, they had a lot more to talk about, particularly with the goodbye to Zack and Ivy and Carulia.

Special thank you to Duane Capizzi, I doubt he’’ll ever read this, but thank you for your part in bringing this amazing show and its characters to a new narrative. It’s such a shame it only lasted for four seasons, hopefully in the future we get new stories to tell with these characters. As a complete side note, I am a New Zealander and it was so great to see NZ represented in media, even better that it was a Carmen and Gray episode :D To everyone else, thanks for reading this if you have gotten this far :)

#redcrackle #carmen x gray #carmen sandeigo netflix #duane capizzi #carulia #spoilers

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hypnoticwinter · 4 years ago

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Down the Rabbit Hole part 1

It's five in the afternoon just outside of Corpus Christi and I and my poor old Elantra with the broken AC are stuck in a traffic jam because some dickhead decided he wanted to cut across five lanes of traffic and got mangled by a semi truck. And then the jam’s compounded by all of the damn lookie-looes slowing down to a crawl as they squirm through the two lanes still open, the metaphorical arteries of the gigantic beast that is the United States highway system, trying to get a good look at something gory on the way home.

I'm slowly melting into my seat, barely able to keep my eyes open. I keep glancing over at the water bottle I'd set snugly into the passenger seat, my cupholders being full with spare change and old receipts and little mini bottles of hand sanitizer, but just the way the sun's reflecting off of it makes me sick thinking about how warm the water would be by now.

I'm a few cars back from the wreck now. A police officer, looking sweaty and tired, steps out into the road, stopping traffic to let a couple of paramedics cross. A loud radio ad is playing in the car next to me and I look over. The guy in it looks about as done with this as I feel. I smile to myself, go back to watching the wreck.

The paramedics have stopped now and are talking to the policeman in the middle of the road. He looks annoyed, gestures at the cars ahead of him. One of the paramedics shakes his head and points back towards one of the cars.

The radio ad ends and the throbbing beat of Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire" comes on and I find myself singing along under my breath without even thinking about it.

Harry Truman, Doris Day, Red China, Johnnie Ray

South Pacific, Walter Winchell, Joe DiMaggio...

Another paramedic joins the group in the middle of the highway and then they hustle over to the wreck. The police officer gestures and we move fractionally forwards, then stop again. The asshole in the giant pickup truck ahead of me has decided to stop and watch them peel the door off the crushed sedan like the scab off a fresh cut. I can see something pink and fleshy and hurt-looking inside, where the driver's seat ought to have been, and I look away quickly.

We didn't start the fire

It was always burning since the world's been turning...

I end up meeting the eyes of the guy in the car next to me. He's bobbing his head along to Billy Joel and gives me a somewhat sheepish, embarrassed look. He's balding, looks about forty. A tired, haggard, sweaty face. I roll my eyes and smile at him and he smiles back. Someone behind me honks and I twist backwards and give him the finger, really slam it at him against the dirty rear window. We're rolling forwards so slowly that it's absurd to even honk, just people blowing off steam. I suppose on some level it's equally absurd to give him the finger for it, but whatever.

Lebanon, Charles de Gaulle, California baseball

ARPANET, Free Tibet, what's in Mystery Flesh Pit?

Buddy Holly, Ben Hur, space monkey, Mafia

Hula hoops, Castro, Edsel is a no-go...

Wait. What?

Now that we're past the wreck the highway widens out. More lanes open and the guy next to me merges over to the left. Billy Joel's voice disappears into engine noises and honks and the sound of the wind whipping past my open windows, but I still keep thinking about the lyrics I had just mouthed along to.

What the hell is a Mystery Flesh Pit?

I glance over at the phone sitting in its holster on the dash but something about the way the car I’d just past had crunched in on itself like a discarded candy wrapper makes me think better of it. I shift a lane or two to the right, get in line for my exit, and then I'm off the freeway. I make every light on the way to my apartment, all four of them, and it's just enough time that I forget about the line in the song. I jump into the shower and let the cold water run over me for fifteen minutes, which turns into thirty, which turns into forty-five, which turns into an hour.

When I get out I'm shivering but the warm Texas air blowing through my open window wraps me up like a warm hug, and I shrug into a flannel shirt, leave it unbuttoned. I put my cigarette out, leave it crumpled in the ashtray, stifle my coughs. I’m still not used to smoking this much. I eye the half-empty pack laying on the table but I let it alone.

The letter I received yesterday is on the kitchen table where I'd dropped it. The envelope is still on the floor somewhere. I think about going back and reading it again, or going and finding the envelope and throwing it away, but I don't want to. There wouldn’t be a point.

My phone buzzes; I see the name of the contact and let it ring. I don’t want to talk to him.

Outside, down in the courtyard, an old man is taking his dog for a walk. There is a vast darkened array of clouds closing in from the east and it already smells like rain, the wind is carrying it. I might take a walk too, later tonight.

I go back to the dresser and take my shirt off, slip a bra on, and then put the shirt back on. I almost light another cigarette, then I stop myself.

What the hell is Mystery Flesh Pit?

I had almost forgotten. Almost, but not quite. Billy Joel got stuck in my head and while I'd been puttering I'd hummed along until I got to that verse.

I shake my head and go get my laptop, type it into google half-expecting to find a porn site. A few travelogue type posts, a Wikipedia page...I click on that one and get hit with a redirect. Permian Basin Superorganism Containment Area? ("Mystery Flesh Pit" redirects here. For the defunct U.S. National Park, see...)

I read the page, and then I stop. The growing sense of unease I felt while I devoured the Wikipedia article is now almost too much for me to handle.

This can't possibly be real. This has to be a prank or something, some kind of internet joke gone out of control. I click on the link to the National Park and see pictures, too many and too high quality to be faked. It's like something out of a Michael Crichton novel but it's real. It has to be.

The Permian Basin Superorganism (Immanis Collosseus), I read, is a subterranean organism unique to modern biology, being the sole occupant of the Phylum Immanemqa. The organism was discovered by a pilot well drilling crew in 1973; later efforts were made to expose more of the organism through drilling and surface mining explosives. The Permian Basin Superorganism is notable for its immense size, being the largest living animal on the planet, its equally immense age, and for the degree and sophistication of human exploitation concerning the animal, culminating in the opening of a National Park largely within the creature’s body, allowing visitors to descend within the Permian Basin Superorganism and…

I read about gullets and bones and digestion, about an ancient animal of some kind living baked into the stone and earth outside of Gumption, Texas. I read about the sheer enormity of it, I read about how a mining company turned it into a tourist attraction, splitting its throat wide open with metal retaining walls and letting people ride an elevator a thousand feet down into its insides. I read about ballast, some kind of secretion exuded by the creature that acts as a kind of panacea, healing afflictions untouchable by conventional medicine. They made great baths out of the glands that produced it, let people bathe in its diluted aphrodisiac waters. I read, finally, about the 2007 disaster that closed the park, when a pump failed to activate and drowned the thing, making it wake up – god, wake up? – and swallow almost seven hundred people, making it spew caustic vomit so high into the air that there are still pockets of it being found here and there nearly a hundred miles away, burning into the ground and poisoning water tables. And the way they managed to get it to go back to sleep is classified by the US Government. Did they nuke it? Christ, Gumption is only...okay, well, it's about five hundred miles away, so I guess I'm a little less concerned, but, god, this happened in the same state as me and this is only the first time I'm hearing about it. July Fourth, 2007...

I realize after a moment, with a strange little knot in my stomach, that actually, I did hear about it. I wasn't in the state in 2007. It was four years ago, I'd just gotten out of school and I was still in Oklahoma, but I remember my parents telling me about an earthquake at midnight that they'd felt, that woke them up, knocked a couple of things over. I had never known...

I feel a little like I've just woken up and gone to the bathroom and looked outside and all of a sudden the sky is a bright green, and everybody I ask about it just looks at me really strangely and says that it's always been green.

I google my way all over the internet, looking at photos people have taken decades ago on their family trips, hosted on filesharing sites or on ancient GeoCities-era pages. I see smiling families, people in hiking gear, people swimming inside biological hot springs, people digging pitons into great sheer walls of flesh, not minding the blood that gushes out. I see a shaky video someone's taken of their television, of CNN back on the Fourth of July, 2007, I see a vast bloody pit, carved into the great flat nothing of central Texas.

I feel like my head is spinning. I get up, get away from the computer, grab another cigarette and smoke it slowly, standing on the balcony, looking out over the sprawling cityscape in the general direction of Gumption, Texas, or at least where I think it should be. If north is that way, then…

Alright. It's real. There's enough evidence, photographs, videos, spread across so many different web sites that it would be impossible to fake. I look up an old rating list of National Parks, making sure that it's from around 2004 or so, and find Mystery Flesh Pit near the bottom. The tiny two-sentence blurb describes it as "strange," "horrifying," and "easily skippable," so I guess that could also explain why I had never heard of it.

And, of course, the ballast. Some kind of miracle liquid. I read on Wikipedia that they’d tried to synthesize it after July 4th, after the supplies had been cut off, but no matter how molecularly perfect they could make the compound it was so much drossy bathwater, without the power to cure even a hangnail. It has to come straight from the source for it to be any good - who knows why.

There is a slow, anxious curl unwinding in my stomach, and for a moment, I fear the results it may lead me to.

I look at the map I'd opened in another tab again; Gumption, Texas; a tiny little county named after a tiny little town, or so I've heard. Now that I’m thinking about it, I vaguely remember passing through Gumption once, very briefly, during a family road trip back when I was six, but I don't remember much more than that. The only reason I even recognize the name of the town is because at the time I thought it was a funny name and I kept saying it to myself after I'd asked my mom what the word on the sign meant when we drove into town. Welcome to Gumption. Did it have more, perhaps? “Home of the Mystery Flesh Pit?” I don't remember visiting the Mystery Flesh Pit National Park, that's for sure. I think that would have stuck with little six-year-old me.

I eye the scale on the map, use my fingers to estimate the distance from Corpus Christi to Gumption.

It'd be a solid day of driving, seven or eight hours on the road, not counting breaks for food, sleep, restroom. I grimace at the computer screen, then zoom the map out. Lubbock, though...I could take a plane to Lubbock. That'd be, what, like two hours? Maybe? And then rent a car, drive down to Gumption...

I swallow, then laugh at myself. Why bother? I think. Why bother driving down to look at some fences and security guards? It's closed off, the Wikipedia page said, nobody in or out, just some scientists and a sedative plant. The fun stopped when it woke up, back in ‘07.

Flights are cheap. Ninety-nine dollars, ninety-five dollars. I start to type in the address to check my bank balance, then stop, fold the computer closed. I want a cigarette.

On my way out to the window my foot brushes against the envelope I'd left discarded on the floor and again I think of picking it up and putting it away, and again I leave it there. It doesn't really matter.

It'd be a horrible waste of money, probably. And I doubt I'd find anything really meaningful. Even if, you know, I use the excuse of going and looking around so I could write a story on it or something, I don't know if Jim, my editor, would really care that much. From what it seems, Mystery Flesh Pit is ancient history.

I take another look at the sheet of paper sitting on the table, curled over on itself like a dead spider. Fuck it, I think, then repeat myself out loud. I stub out the cigarette and go retrieve my cell phone, look up the phone number for American Airlines out of Corpus Christi airport. Fifteen minutes on hold later I am the proud owner of one business class ticket to Lubbock, Texas, leaving in four hours out of gate nine. I hang up the call and say "fuck it" aloud again because it makes me feel a little better, and then I go pack.

The plane ride is okay. Security was a bear and a half but it always is. I realized from the pleasant-unnerving swooping sensation in my stomach when we took off that it had been long enough since the last time I'd been on a plane that I had forgotten what it feels like. I was lucky to grab a window seat next to a little kid and his father; they didn't bother me as much as I'd expected. Once he turned to me to show me something on the handheld video game he was playing but his father quickly intercepted him and apologized to me; I was a little put out, honestly, I would have wanted to look at it. I'd forgotten to stick a book in my carry-on so I had been stuck staring out the window, and about a half hour in the plane had angled in such a way that the setting sun was glaring me right in the face and daring me to enjoy the scenery, so I did the most sensible thing I could and closed the shutter and tried to fall asleep. I think I managed to do so about fifteen minutes before we landed, which lead to me letting out a rather embarrassing yelp when the landing jolted me awake. The kid and his dad looked at me and I blushed, mentally kicking myself for blushing, but I smiled at them and shrugged and said that I'd fallen asleep and we had a laugh about it.

Lubbock is alright, I guess, if you don’t look at it too closely or stay too long. I rent a car at the airport and drive into town, and consider driving to Gumption that night, but I decide after some deliberation that it'll be better to do a little reconnaissance here first, if I really am going to make a story out of this. Am I? I've been treating that as my excuse so far and yeah, I brought my voice recorder and my camcorder and my DSLR and plenty of memory cards and extra batteries...but I guess I hadn't really taken it seriously.

The city's very alive at night, more so, it seems to me, than Corpus Christi, but I also don't get out very much back home, so maybe my perception is skewed. Everywhere I look there are clubs and shows and bars and things, and then, as I pass into the seedier areas, huddled groups of people spotted here and there. I imagine they’re eying me as I drive past and I tamp down the little curl of fear rising in my stomach.

I find a Motel 6 and then I try to find a Waffle House, but seemingly there aren’t any in Lubbock. I settle for someplace called The Pancake House, and then in a couple of hours I feel better, and then a couple of hours after that I finally manage to fall asleep.

I wake up having slept like the dead. I think about going someplace for breakfast but think better of it after I sit up too quickly and my stomach gives an uneasy lurch in protest. I get dressed leisurely – it is my weekend, after all. For a moment I even manage to fantasize that I'll be able to catch a flight home in time to make it to work on Monday but then I laugh at myself, which I seem to be doing quite a lot of lately.

Barely a hundred miles away, Mystery Flesh Pit is waiting for me. I don't know what I'll find there – personally, I feel rather certain it'll be a hell of a let-down – but it feels nice to have a purpose for once, to feel as though my life is being put to some kind of use other than to see how many cigarettes I can smoke in a single day and still retain some dignity.

It's nice to not have to think.

I take a breath and throw some clothes on and get started on the hard part.

* * *

The guy mopping the floor at the bus stop:

"Excuse me, sir? Do you know anything about the Mystery Flesh Pit Disaster of 2007?"

"The what?"

Businessman on the street, approached while tying his shoes:

"Excuse me, sir? I'm doing some research on the Mystery Flesh Pit disast –"

"I'm sorry, lady, I don't have any money."

Lady at the counter of the pharmacy:

"Excuse me, ma'am? I'm trying to find out some information on the Mystery Flesh Pit, do you have a moment to talk about it?"

"Sure, honey, but I'm afraid I don't know that much about it. That was back in, what, 2003? 2004?"

"2007, actually. Did you ever happen to visit while the park was still operating?"

"It was a park? I just remember something about some sort of tunnel collapse."

"Right. Thanks for your time."

Guy at the 7-11, asked while filling up the tank on my car next to him:

"Hey, dude, you know anything about the Mystery Flesh Pit?"

"Went there once when I was a kid. Pretty cool. Why?"

"I'm a reporter, doing a story on it. You remember the disaster that closed it down?"

"It's closed now? That's lame. What happened?"

"Thing woke up and ate everybody."

"For real?"

"Yeah. I've been asking around, like nobody's heard about it. Kind of surprising."

He taps his finger to his chin. "You know," he says thoughtfully, "it has been like five years since then."

"Four years."

"Even so. People don't have any kind of attention span any more."

His pump clicks off and so does our conversation.

Yeah, alright, maybe it isn't a very representative group, but it seems like nobody cares. Is that reasonable? Well...seven hundred plus people died, most in pretty gruesome ways, according to Wikipedia. Then there were the, god, the thousand or ten-thousand-plus people affected by the vomit and ejecta scattered hundreds of miles away. I’m not sure. You'd expect that apathy from the rest of the nation, maybe, I don't know why somebody in Arkansas or Kentucky or Illinois or wherever would give a fuck if they didn't personally know somebody who was affected, but here? Just a hundred miles from the place or so?

Maybe they did a really good job of cleaning up the cities, maybe it's only the little towns and places where the legacy of it has really clung on. I know there has to be a story, somebody who was there, somebody who saw it. That jerky camcorder video of CNN is a start, but something real, something visceral, in the words of a survivor...

That was the one thing I didn’t find much of. No memoirs, no autobiographies, just a few mentions here and there but nothing like a back-to-front story of what that night was like. That is what I’m really after.

I put my cigarette out in one of those trashcan-cum-ashtrays that dot the corners of every city I've ever been to, Lubbock no exception. I get in the rental car and again forget that it has crank windows instead of buttons. "To the library, and step on it," I giggle to myself as I pull out into traffic. I feel a little lightheaded and I remember that I never bothered to eat anything.

Perusal of the newspaper archives at the Mahon Public Library downtown confirmed what I'd already assumed – that there was no big government coverup, there was no conspiracy of that sort. The disaster at the Mystery Flesh Pit was capital-letter Very Big News for about a month, back in 2007, at least in the area. The stories towards the end of the month cast a little light on why it didn't last, though – it wasn't ongoing, it was just sort of a one-and-done thing. Yeah, finding the caustic vomit everywhere kicked up another stink a week or so later but the Powers That Be seemed to get that under control fairly quickly, at least in more populated areas. After that there were grumblings about disclosure and fault and blame and all that, and quite a few articles about Anodyne Mining or whoever going bankrupt but by the end of the month, aside from a few overly sentimental memorial pieces dedicated to delicately sidestepping the exact causes of death of the people they were memorializing, the news had moved on.

A librarian pokes around the corner with a cart and smiles at me; I smile back at her. She's young, pretty, long skirt, dark eyes. I scoot forward so she can pass behind me. I read on for a while, the faint swish of her skirt and the slim sliding sound of books going back into shelves registering dimly and pleasantly in the back of my mind. I put the paper down and stretch a little, and then I notice she's glancing over at me. I smile at her again.

"Doing some research?" she asks, and I nod.

"Yes," I say. "I'm a reporter for a paper in Corpus Christi and I'm doing a story on the Mystery Flesh Pit. Have you heard of it?"

As soon as the words pass my lips there's something dark and guarded lurking in her eyes that makes me perk my ears up. She waits a couple of seconds before she answers, clearly thinking of what to say, of how much to tell me. I mention, after a moment, that I'm surprised that so few people here in Lubbock seem to really remember it or care about it, and she nods, leans up against her cart.

"It was a big deal for a while," she says, gesturing to the stack of papers next to me, "but after that I guess it just wasn't exciting any more. The only people who really remember it are out in all the small towns where it really affected them. Here, in Lubbock, they just had vans working overtime to clean everything up and then it was easy to forget about. Every now and then I hear about them finding another pile of that vomit somewhere just...festering away out there in the desert."

"Were you there?"

"No," she says, "but my brother was."

"I'm sorry," I tell her. I want to reach out and touch her or something but I don't know if she'd appreciate it, so instead I keep my sympathy subdued. "Is he - ?"

"No, no," she says quickly, "he's alright. He was a park ranger there, he just…happened to be working that night. He, ah...it really fucked him up for a while," she says finally, giving me a grimace. "We haven't talked in a long time."

"I'm sorry," I say again. "That must have been hard, for both of you."

"Yeah," she says, cutting her glance downwards. "He always said some strange things about the disaster, real Alex Jones type stuff. But he just couldn't, you know, move on at all. We got in a big fight about it and, well, that was that."

I wonder what to say for a moment before I cross my legs, set the newspapers aside. "You must have gone there, then, while it was still operating."

"Yes, plenty of times."

"What was it like?"

She laughs softly. "God, that's such a...like, where do I even begin, you know? Have you been to many other National Parks?"

"A few," I tell her. "Not as many as I'd have liked. Crater Lake, Devil's Tower, Badlands, Petrified Forest..."

She laughs. "Real Midwest girl, aren't you?"

"Hey, Crater Lake is in Oregon, that's not the Midwest."

"I wasn't knocking it. Um. Well, it wasn't like any other park you've ever been to, I can guarantee that. It was like, you drive up to it and you park and you walk up these stairs to get to the main observatory building, and you get in there and you look down and there's just...skin. In a hole in the ground. It was extremely disconcerting. From that distance it didn't look real, it looked like it was plasticine or something, like it was a model. And there was something...I don't know, kind of lewd about it?"

"Lewd?"

"Yeah. The way they were spreading it open with these giant metal, like, flanges or whatever, and how it was all raw and pink around the opening...Freud would have had a field day with it. Made you feel like you were watching a gynecological exam."

"I still kind of can't believe they found this thing and thought opening a theme park was the best thing to do with it."

"It was the 70s, I guess." she shrugs. "Place is old, you know. Anyway, once you actually got down into it, it was...it was an experience. You rode this giant elevator down and they had a massive visitor center something like 1200 feet down inside the thing's throat, and you could look out the windows and see all this flesh outside. It was honestly like something out of a movie, it was so surreal. I went there a bunch of times with my brother cause he got an employee discount and I could get in for five dollars and I saw at least ten people have panic attacks and hyperventilate."

I think about my next question for a moment. "Would you say overall that it was, you know, a negative thing? Like, the park on the whole."

"No, absolutely not."

"Why's that?"

She licks her lips. "I think that it's really easy to forget how small we are. We've done all these great things, we've built civilizations, we've put people on the moon, we're exploring the bottom of the ocean, I think humanity in general likes to think that we have everything figured out." She shrugs. "The Mystery Flesh Pit is a really good reminder that we know basically nothing. I mean, they were studying it but they knew practically nothing about it, not how big it was, not whether there were more creatures like it elsewhere in the world, not where it came from, not even if it was awake or if it could move or what the thing looked like as a whole. I think what they ended up doing with it was stupid as hell, but as far as the experience of actually going down inside of it and walking around on a trail and, I don't know, watching macrobacteria roll past outside the fence or seeing something really weird moving around down there and seeing the park ranger guiding you not know what it is either, that's an experience I genuinely wish everybody got to have. It'll change your life."

"How did it change yours?"

She laughs. "Besides, you know, everything with the disaster and my brother and all that shit? Just going down there really made me realize who I was."

"How, exactly?"

She shakes her head. "Like I said, I figured out just how small I was and how – I don't know, how insignificant we really are. These days whenever I get worried or bothered or I stress out over something I think about standing there in the elevator looking up through the glass ceiling and watching the light get smaller and dimmer, like I was falling into a bottomless pit, and I find peace."

"Seems like an odd way to find peace."

"Different strokes, right? Anyway. I really ought to put these books away. Was there anything else you wanted to know?"

I think about it for a moment, then shrug. "I'm planning on heading down to Gumption tomorrow, aside from the pit itself is there anything else I ought to check out?"

She lets out a low whistle. "I think you're going to be very disappointed. They don't let anybody go to the Pit any more, it's all sealed off, has been for years. And Gumption, well...that town has seen better days. I'll give you a tip, though, even though maybe I shouldn't. Look for my brother there, I know he still lives in town. I can't give you his number or his address, unfortunately, because I don't have them any more, but I know for a fact that he works at the only gas station in town, a 7/11, so ask around there and you'll be able to find him. His name's Peter; I'd tell you to tell him I sent you but I kind of get the feeling that might not get you very far."

I thank her for the tip and set the newspapers aside. If I head out tonight I might be able to get some good shots of the fence around Mystery Flesh Pit. I think of it, of the sunset, then discard the thought. Forget it. I'll need a whole day to really dig into it, I think. And more's the better. I have plenty of batteries, I have plenty of storage. Easy girl, there's no rush. Assuming they let me just walk up and start filming, but if I really hype myself up I can half-believe I could talk my way into at least getting some shots of the fence, at the very least.

"Oh, and one last thing."

I blink, look back up at her. She has a faint smile on her face, probably from watching me zone out, that fades quickly. "Don't stay in Gumption too long."

* * *

The drive down to Gumption is dusty and hot and boring. I get about halfway before I realize I'm not driving my poor old Hyundai, I'm driving a rental car, and that it has a functional air conditioner, and then I feel very silly, for though the wind certainly felt nice on the whole I would have much rather just rolled the windows up and sat in the cool air. I see a grand total of four other cars, all coming from Gumption, on the two-hour drive. It's mostly a straight shot but my phone tells me to take a county road that turns into just a dirt track towards the end that, after a little meandering, plops me out onto a back street of Gumption, Texas.

The research I'd done suggests that at one point Gumption had been a bustling little town, fuelled by the Pit’s tourist draw, and initially its size would indicate that it still is. But as I drove slowly through the empty streets, the general air of disrepair and decay became more and more apparent. I see a couple abandoned houses, and not the foreclosed sort with realtor's signs out front, but straight-up shattered-glass, boarded-windows, holes-in-the-roofs abandoned. The ones that weren't just looked sad, like no one was taking care of them properly. The cars parked on the street are all at least five or six years old, as best as I can tell. I see only two people out and about while I'm driving around at 15 miles an hour, getting some video footage, cruising down the middle of the road, eyes flicking between the empty street ahead and the screen on my camera. One, a youngish-looking black guy, keeps his head down and doesn't look at me, and the other, an old man in a wifebeater mowing his lawn, stares at me all the way down the street, until I turn the corner and pull onto the main road.

There's the 7/11. I'm tempted to head to it right away but I refrain, look for a diner or something, but the ones around look about as welcoming as the rest of the place. There's a McDonald's but it's so small it doesn't even have a drive-through, which is something I'd never seen before. There's a drug store and a liquor store and one of those tiny little storefront churches, something something Starry Wisdom. I think about going to McDonald's but instead I pull a u-turn and head back to the gas station. The clerk, a haggard-looking woman, doesn't look up from her magazine when I walk in. I wander to the back and grab a Coke out of the fridge unit. The credit-card reader is broken so I have to dig around in my wallet and find some bills. The entire exchange continues without any speech at all until I work up my nerve and lick my lips and ask her if there's a hotel around here somewhere.

She looks at me for a few moments and then jerks her head towards the road. Her voice sounds like a frog croaking. "There's a motel down the road a ways. When you pull out take a left and turn at Third street."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"By the way."

"Yeah?"

"Can you tell me when Peter works?"

I had to think for a moment to remember his name. I have it written down in a notebook but it's out in the car. Her eyes flash a little more lively. "Who's asking?"

I think of what to say for a moment before I shrug. "A friend."

For a moment I think she's going to tell me to fuck off, but something in my face must have convinced her. "He's off today. Come in tomorrow at eight or nine at night, he'll be here. He works graveyard most days."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

I walk out the door and the heat hits me like a thrown punch. I blow a breath out and lean up against the rough cinderblock edge of the gas station building and drink my Coke.

It's four in the afternoon and it'll take me maybe half an hour to drive down to the Mystery Flesh Pit. It'll be cooler, too, in the evening, and if this town is any indication I doubt there'll be much of a line. I wonder where the people who work there live; maybe they have a dormitory there or something. Clearly they don't live here. Maybe there's some little patch of suburbs somewhere, behind those hills over there, perhaps, where all the people are, but it's four in the afternoon and I've seen a grand total of three other cars driving around, so maybe not.

The guy at the motel gives me a nicer greeting than the lady at the 7-11 did, although not by much; at least I get a few dirty molars of a smile out of him as he hands me the key to my room. I had to wake him up from his nap at the front desk in order to get the room to begin with, and though I tried to do so as gently as I could he still started and almost fell out of his chair.

"Here for the Pit?" he asks as I'm about to leave, and I turn back, glance at him.

"Yeah," I say after a moment. "Just going to see what's there now."

"You're heading over now?"

"Yes."

"Huh," he grunts after a moment. "Most of you folks don't do that 'till dark."

I frown. "Us folks?"

"You know, you..." his eyes roam over my face and his mouth drops open very slightly. "Oh," he says heavily. "Never mind."

"What?"

"Nothing, ma'am. Now if you'll excuse me –"

"Wait, hang on –"

"You have a good day now, ma'am."

He disappears into the back room and I stand there, glaring at the door as it swings shut, key still looped around my finger. I have half a mind to vault the desk and head back there and demand to know what the hell he was talking about, but I take a deep breath and let it out. What could he have meant? Maybe he thinks I work over at the Flesh Pit or something, although that wouldn't explain why they only head over after dark...that doesn't make sense. Tourists, maybe? But that doesn't make sense either.

I chew on my lip for a little while and then shake my head, push the door open and let the heat swallow me up again. There's no sense brooding on it; the only thing to do is to move forward.

* * *

The drive down to Mystery Flesh Pit is, if it were possible, even hotter and more boring than the drive down to Gumption. The heat is pounding on the window and begging me to let it in so I turn up the AC, trying to drown it out, but it's no use. No matter where I put my arm the sun is pouring down on me, and if I leave it still for more than a moment I get that unpleasant prickling sensation that tells me I'm starting to burn already. I've already got a pretty terrible driver's tan from the ride down but this is just overkill.

No cars pass me on the long road that my phone assures me is the way to the Permian Basin Superorganism Containment Corporation. It's only wide enough for one so if someone did come by someone's going off the road. Hopefully not me, as this rental Toyota is not built for that sort of thing. It's already been complaining at me creakily and jostling me around. I'll have to get it a car wash or something when I get back to Lubbock, whenever that ends up being. I didn't read over the rental contract very closely but I'm pretty sure if I bring it back this dusty there's some kind of fee.

You can see the outline of the plant, growing larger up ahead. It looks unassuming, exactly like any other indecipherable cluster of industrial buildings you'd see along the side of the highway, all greyish-white, tubes and pipes and tanks and corrugation, warning signs and fences and barbed wire, power lines and scaffolding and light poles, all clustering out of the ground like mushrooms after a cold rain. The guard in the gatehouse is watching me as I pull up, but I turn off the road, turning the car around so I'll be ready to go whenever I need to, well away from the road so anyone trying to get in or out can get by without any trouble.

The sign on the fence broadly proclaims that this is the site of the Permian Basin Recovery and Superorganism Containment Corporation, and says that the administration building is to the right, along with the barracks, infirmary, commissary, and so on.

I get out, shut the car door, take my camcorder with me. I keep it on but held low, taking a shot of my feet. I wander up to the gatehouse and the guard steps out, hand on the butt of his pistol, resting loose but confident. He has an MP helmet on and I wonder whether the National Guard is in charge of security or something, and then I wonder if I'm about to get got for trespassing. Surely there'd be more of a commotion if I was, right?

The guard has a sharp face but disconcertingly watery eyes. "Hi," I tell him.

"This area's off-limits to civilians, ma'am," he tells me.

"I'm not trying to get in," I assure him. "I'm a journalist, I just want to take some photos. Is that okay?"

He relaxes a little, points up and down the fence. "Right now," he says, "you're on public land. You go over that fence, you're trespassing on Federal land. Understand?"

"Yessir," I grunt, reflexively. Some old habits never die.

"You can take photos of whatever you like except for people inside the fence, understand? Before you leave I will check your camera."

"Yessir."

"Any questions?"

"Can I take a photo of you?"

"Am I inside the fence?"

"No."

"Then yes, you can."

I bring my DSLR up, snap a picture of him. He gives me a cheesy grin. I look at the display and then back up at him. "You blinked."

"Better take another."

I do so. "You know," I say to him, "this is a much more civil interaction than I expected it to be."

He pauses, halfway back to the guardhouse, to shrug at me. "You're just lucky that the government doesn't also own the land around the park. On most military bases it's like that, you know, they own a hundred-foot radius out from the fence, but here it's different."

"Cause it used to be a National Park?"

"I believe so."

"Do I have to stay in your sight or anything?"

He shakes his head. "No, there are cameras. Just make sure you don't touch the fence, it's electric."

I look at the sign on the fence again; I'd sort of skimmed over it before but a few more things catch my eye this time, especially the bright red one proclaiming that it's charged to 10,000 volts. I whistle. "Y'all really don't want people getting in, huh?"

"It's dangerous."

"So I've heard. Want to do an interview?"

"Can't do that, ma'am. What paper are you with?"

"Corpus Christi Star-Tribune."

He raises his eyebrows. "You're a long way from home. What brings you down to Gumption County?"

I briefly explain what got me interested in the Mystery Flesh Pit and he nods. "Lot of people seem to have forgotten about this place. It's for the best, I'd say."

"Care to elaborate?"

"No, ma'am," he says, but not unkindly. "I can't talk to reporters."

"Come on," I wheedle. "Who'd know?"

"We're on camera," he repeats.

"Fair enough," I shrug.

He gets back in the guardhouse and I run a hand through my hair and turn my attention to the fence. I take a shot of the gates, of the fence, of the signs on the fence, of the great bulging buildings visible through the fence. I get a nice one of the fence extending along into the horizon, a great metal wall bisecting the flat, hot plain of West Texas earth, extending into infinity, it seems, a shimmer of heat distortion bubbling off of it down in the distance. I get another good one of the sun dipping downwards behind the plant, swallowed by it, casting shadows across my face, long spidery ones that scrape the ground. Then, once I'm at about fifty-percent capacity on my memory card, I put the camera away and sit there on the trunk of the car, kicking my heels idly against the gravelly ground, taking it all in. I read the sign again and I call out to the guard. After a moment he comes out of the gatehouse again.

"What is it?" he asks.

"What's that sign mean?" I ask him, pointing to it. He turns, looks at it.

"I don't think it's very ambiguous," he tells me, and I roll my eyes.

"No, I'm serious. What the hell does it mean? 'Over 500 people die each year attempting to commune with the Organism?' What does that - ?"

"Ma'am, I really can't talk about it."

I look at him carefully but he seems serious, and the sign, well...it's a sign on an electric fence on federal property, so surely it's serious as well. I turn my camera back on and snap a photo of it, then I realize that there's a bit of background noise, coming slowly closer. It's the rumbling of an engine.

There, down the road, is an unmarked white Econoline van. It flashes its brights at me and I step out of the road, let it pass by, while the guard at the gate straightens his uniform. It pulls up to the gate and the guard leans in. He and the driver have a brief conversation before the guard steps back and reaches into the booth to open the gate. The gate opens but the driver of the van sticks his head out, looks back at me. He has a jowly, bristly face, about two five-o'clock shadows away from a beard, and a large bald spot.

"And you, what are you doing here?" he calls, and I get up, a little surprised to be addressed so abruptly. The guard comes out in a hurry, shaking his head.

"Sir," he starts, but the guy in the van isn't having any of it.

"Shut up for a second," he says. "Lady, what're you doing out here?"

"I'm –"

"Sir, you really shouldn't –"

"Look, lady," he says, gesturing me closer. "Things don't have to go this way. There've been a lot of advances with medical technology that can really help you out with those urges. There's –"

"Urges?" I ask. I get a prickly feeling all up and down my spine, like I'm hearing something I ought not to.

"Sir," the guard says, urgently now, "she's a reporter."

The man's mouth snaps shut so quickly he might as well have been a cartoon character. He flushes an angry red and glares at the guard as though he wants to say something but he just ducks his head back through the window of the car and drives through the gate, which closes after him. I shake my head.

"I suppose," I say after a moment, "that you aren't going to tell me what he meant?"

"Not a chance."

"Well," I say, getting up and stretching, "it's been fun."

"You have a good night now."

"Am I going to get a visit from the Men in Black at my hotel room later?"

"I wouldn't worry about that."

"Riiiight." I waggle my eyebrows at him. "That's exactly what they'd want me to think."

He laughs. "Good luck," he tells me.

"I get the feeling I'll need it."

"You’ll be fine," he says after a moment, but I do not feel reassured.

* * *

I drive back to Gumption with the setting sun blazing in my rearview mirror. It slips out of view entirely and coats the sky in dusky purples that quickly fade to black, and then it's the figurative middle of the night. One-handed I manage to wriggle a cigarette out of the pack on the seat next to me and transfer it to my mouth and then feel around for my lighter, and then I groan and pull over. The guy at the rental desk at the airport had seen the pack of cigarettes in my hand while I was filling out the paperwork and told me very strictly that I had better not smoke in the car and I, of course, had managed to forget completely. It's a good thing I remembered before I lit up.

The night is cold but not unbearably so. I spend a long time there, leaning against the trunk of my car, cigarette in my hand but forgotten momentarily, staring up at the sky. There's so little light pollution out here that I can see what feels like all of the stars, practically, great scattered dustings of them sweeping across the whole of the night sky like someone had tossed them there. There's the Big Dipper, there's Orion, there's the Little Dipper... I think that bright one is Mars, maybe, it looks a little reddish. And that cluster there must be the Pleiades.

I take a breath and blow it out and realize exactly how tired I am. It's somewhere lurking in the back of my skull, right behind my eyes, coiled around my neck. If I closed my eyes I'd probably be able to fall asleep out here, right on the hood of the car.

I crack my neck and wince. The moon's bright and full tonight, at least, so I can still see the barren terrain all around me.

I consider the cigarette for a moment before I throw it to the ground and crush it out. I don't normally litter, really, I swear, but the exhaustion creeping over me is making me not care.

There's a long drainage ditch along the side of the road here, terminating in one of those white-concrete tunnels disappearing into the dirt, its mouth wide enough to swallow me whole if I felt like going down there. I stifle a yawn, kick a rock down into the ditch, and traipse around the side of the car, get in and start it up. From where I parked it, the headlights angle downward enough to reveal a sliced-pie cut of the inside of the tunnel and there, inside it, I see for only the briefest second a pale, wide-eyed face staring at me, along with a dark-jacketed body and a hand, curled there on the floor of the tunnel like a spider before, in a flash, the man retreats into the darkness deeper in the tunnel and is gone.

I can feel my heart beating out of my chest and I realize my mouth has dropped open. Real animal fear has seized me and my rational mind cannot jerk back the reins. I put the car into gear, fumbling first and sticking it in neutral, and then push the pedal all the way to the floor and roar off into the dark.

I was very lucky that there was no one trying to get to Mystery Flesh Pit that night, for I probably would have flipped the car trying to go around them. The closer I get to Gumption, the slower I drive, until finally I manage to get myself to stop the car just outside of town. I pull over again and get out, curling my lip at my shaking hands, and light up another cigarette.

It was just a homeless guy, hiding in a drainage ditch. I probably spooked the fuck out of him, pulling up right there on top of him and hanging out. He must be wondering what the fuck I was doing out there. Probably scared him more than he scared me.

Why did I wig out so bad anyway? I like to think I've got a pretty good nerve. Well, stress is a good excuse, I guess. Or perhaps it's because he was simply hiding down there, unknown, unnoticed, the whole time I was sitting there on the hood of the car, completely oblivious. He could have rushed out and attacked me, if he'd had the guts to, and I wouldn't have been able to do anything about it.

I take another drag at the cigarette and glare up at the stars again. Ursa Major, Orion, Pleiades. Sometimes, when it's quiet like this, I allow myself to think about what the coming year, or possibly years, if I'm lucky, will be like.

Whatever.

I crush the cigarette out and drive back into town, head back to my motel room. I feel better once I've showered and put on some shorts. I get into bed and pull the covers up, and even though they're the scratchy, weird-feeling covers used in seemingly every cheap motel in America, regardless of location, I drift off to sleep easily enough.

Continue with Part 2

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#writing #mystery flesh pit #writeblr #Michael Crichton #thriller #novel #alt lit

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uwuwriting · 4 years ago

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Homesick recordings

This is the first part of my 1.5K celebration. I present to you the sequel to “Moments in the life of Y/N L/N”, the angstiest piece of trash I’ve ever written. Thank you 1.5 K guys it means a lot, thank you for being here and reading my crap writing and thank you for supporting my blog. Love ya 💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

When Y/N learns that her little girl is gonna leave for high school she suggests she tries recording herself when she’s feeling homesick. Sky believes that she won’t need it but as time passes she realizes that she might need her mom more than expected.

Monday, April 4th 20XX

“Okay so how do I do this exactly? *camera falls from its spot* Ah crap crap Jesus! Is it still working? Yep yep it is there’s my ugly face hehe. God why is my hair like that? Anyways um…. Hi, I guess? Do you say hi to a recording? This is weird to say the least. Today was the first day of school as you might have guessed and it was ….awkward. I got lost in that huge building twice and I ignored some kids by accident because they called me by my last name! I’m used to people referring to you when they say our last name ugh this is gonna take some time getting used to. The teacher is ....unique. He came into our classroom in a yellow sleeping bag and proceeded to worm around the room like a caterpillar. I don’t think he is the really giddy giddy fun teacher; he wrecked us during training. Gave us a freaking heart attack with a so called prank he pulled. *exasperated sigh* Who says that you’ll be expelled if you score last?? I don’t get it!! His name is Aizawa-sensei and I already believe he doesn’t like me. He stared at me for a solid five minutes with a frown on his face during training. If I’m being honest he was watching me the whole day which is kinda weird. I don’t know how to take that. Is he interested in my quirk or is he asking himself why they put me in his class? I can hear his voice saying ‘why do they keep sending me imbeciles?’. Well mister you can’t get rid of me now I got in and I’m staying! HA! *bang on the wall* YO SKY KID KEEP IT DOWN MAN! SORRY TOYOMI-SAN…..That was one of my roommates….She is a social worker I think. Oh I almost forgot, the apartment I found is nice. It deserves its price I mean. But you already know that since I called you once I got back from school…. See why this is stupid??? I’ll keep telling you things you already know because I have Alzheimer and I don’t remember what you know. *sigh* Oh well I guess you’ll have to endure this torture, you are my mother after all and I’m your precious only daughter so what can you do really? I finished my costume design. It turned out pretty cool, I like it. The jacket you suggested makes it ten times better. I look like a pilot. Well technically I am a pilot. I pilot clouds and now that you’re not here to scold me when I’m flying around I’ll take full advantage of it. You can’t stop me mother! Anyways, it’s getting late and I have school tomorrow so I’ll end this here. I don’t know when I’ll record next…. Most likely when I’m feeling home sick again. Haha it's the first day away from home and I’m already missing you and those two idiots. *soft snort* Goodnight mom, love you.” *recording ends*.

Wednesday, April 27th 20XX

“Hello again, it’s me, your neighborhood cripple. *wince* You could say I’m a sight for sore eyes because I’m sore all over. You’ve seen the attack on the news. Of course you have, everyone’s shaming UA high for lack of security. Why you haven’t called me yet is a mystery, I guess you’re at work? And before you start throwing a tantrum about me not calling first and blah blah, I wanted to record this first, let you see the actual injuries before I minimize them when I call you. *stares off* Something weird happened during the attack. Apart from the fact that well we were attacked and our homeroom teacher was almost beaten into a pulp, the villains were ….. interesting. When they first appeared I was teleported by this minecraft portal looking ass to another part of the USJ and to be honest I kicked some serious ass. That *wince* that was not the weird thing. While I was fighting I saw Aizawa-sensei facing some type of giant ostrich? Although that that thing wasn’t an ostrich…. I don’t know what it was but mom it was terrifying. *visible shiver* It just grabbed him and mopped the floor with him and I just couldn’t sit there and do nothing. So I went to help or at least that was my goal. That person who teleported me at the beginning tried to do it again and I may have snapped a little bit. I got so angry when he moved me to the other side of the arena that for a moment I totally forgot about what was happening. While I was fighting him his quirk kinda connected with mine. It was strange. Every time I shot a cloud at him the mist that surrounded him kinda engulfed it. It wasn’t only happening to me. I could manipulate his mist. Not every time just like he couldn’t sabotage my clouds every time, but it still happened. I don’t know why it happened or how it happened and I have no idea what I’m gonna do about it. Maybe it was part of his quirk but it didn’t happen to anyone else…..*wince* God I have a headache. *chuckle* You do realize you are never going to see these videos right? Seeing me like this would send you into a comma and then you would come back to haunt me and my classmates. Anyways, I’ll call you and then I’m going to sleep. Love ya mom.” *recording ends*

Tuesday, June 3rd 20XX

“*walking back and forth in her room* You know how I said that Bakugou is a really fun person to tease? Well that was before he exposed me to the whole class.*laugh* In reality I’m not really mad, it was a nice comeback and if I’m being honest it was hilarious but it was still a shocker. We were going back and forth with that tik tok challenge where you expose your friend’s flaws. So I was standing there pointing out his superiority complex when he dropped the bomb…… ‘It’s the daddy issues for me’......THIS KID. THE AUDACITY. I thought my daddy issues were kept on the down low!!! I’ve done nothing to trigger this comment!! Sure I may or may not have told Mina that you raised me alone and about that counselor incident but that doesn’t mean I have daddy issues. *grumble* You need to have a dad to have daddy issues. Ughh God I hate him sometimes so very much. Thankfully the summer camp is tomorrow. I’ll get to wipe the floor with him in volleyball. I’m gonna draw those anger issues out…. I need some air. *three hours later* I’m back… yay. It’s weird to think about it you know. What you must have gone through when he passed. I know you don’t really like talking about him or anything before I came along but I would love to know what he was like. I’m not gonna ask you in real life of course, I would never do that to you. I know it hurts. I just wanted to say it out loud…*barely audible sniffle* … Well this got sentimental real quick. I think I should go to bed. I love you mom, goodnight.” *recording ends*

Friday, March 14th 20XX

“Of all the things that could’ve happened, this one was the last one on my list. Actually it wasn’t even on the freaking list, dammit! *sniffle* You know things like this don’t happen to everyone. I must be a really lucky person. Tell me one other person who gets to meet their dead parent in a high surveillance prison?? And above that I got an explanation why he was like this. Amazing right? God this is so stupid! I hate it. I hate this situation, I hate that I can’t tell you about it, I hate keeping you in the dark because at the end of the day I’m not the one who was in love with him. He may be my dad but I don’t have a connection with him! I never met him! He wasn’t there when I started walking or talking, he wasn’t the one who dropped me off on the first day of school, he didn’t teach me how to ride a bike, he-he * sob* I shouldn’t-shouldn’t be upset over this. Aizawa-sensei and Present Mic should be the ones sobbing on their floor. Not me. He doesn’t - I don’t- ugh - I don’t mean anything to him in the end. He died 15 years ago. That’s it. He was in love with you, he knew you, I was nowhere to be found. If he could reach out to us more than just a few words he wouldn’t know who the hell I was. *sobs* I have a picture of you two you know….It’s the one I had found when I was five. When you told me that that was my dad I felt like I could form a connection with the person in that photo. So I kept it, you never went through your old photo albums anyway and you never looked for the missing photo. And I kept it with me. I tore a small pocket in my backpack and put the photo there. I thought that having both of you with me at all times would bring me luck. I liked the fact that I looked like him. Now I realize how painful that must have been for you, seeing him in me everyday….and Aizawa-sensei, god, having me in his class must have been torture. He didn’t know that I was his friend’s daughter of course but I looked enough like him to bring back memories. God this sucks…. *deep breathes* I-I have practice so I gotta go. Love you.” *recording ends*

Thursday, March 20th 20XX

“Hi, it’s me again. I know that I’m recording almost a week after the previous one but… mom I have been assigned a mission and it’s major. It’ll be an attack at a hospital where we believe that experiments are being conducted. We got that information from um what do I call him? *shakes head* from a prisoner in Tartarus, the high surveillance prison I was at last week? Yeah that one. The mission will be really dangerous, that’s what we’ve been told and I can understand that. I mean we are attacking a major operation of AFO, of course it’ll be dangerous. Since we are students we are to stay away from the hospital and monitor the surrounding area but…. I asked Present Mic to go with them in the hospital. I can help keep things in place and I can move people in and out quicker than any of them, plus this is personal. I think Present Mic understands that. He said he’ll talk to Aizawa-sensei about it but regardless….. I’ll find who did that to him, I promise you that. I want to know if...if this was all some grand plan because what they did to him they did to dozens other people and as much as I hate them for taking my father away, I also hate them for what they’ve done to all those other families…… I’m recording this because I don’t know if I come back in one piece or if I come back at all. This is very dangerous and we don’t really know what to expect. What we are getting ourselves into. I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for giving me everything that I needed in life. Thank you for being the best mom anyone could ever have. You raised me by pushing your own sadness and grief to the side and doing the best job you could. So thank you for being my mom and I’m sorry for the pain I caused you. I love you mom, so very much. Bye, bye mommy.” *recording ends.*

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