#quarantine survey

[reasonsforhope]

"Despite the Central Appalachia ecosystem being historically famous as coal country, under this diverse broadleaf canopy lies a rich, biodiverse world of native plants helping to fill North America’s medicinal herb cabinet.

And it turns out that the very communities once reliant on the coalfields are now bringing this botanical diversity to the country.

“Many different Appalachian people, stretching from pre-colonization to today, have tended, harvested, sold, and used a vast number of forest botanicals like American ginseng, ramps, black cohosh, and goldenseal,” said Shannon Bell, Virginia Tech professor in the Dept. of Sociology. “These plants have long been integral to many Appalachians’ livelihoods and traditions.”

50% of the medicinal herbs, roots, and barks in the North American herbal supply chain are native to the Appalachian Mountains, and the bulk of these species are harvested or grown in Central Appalachia, which includes southern West Virginia, eastern Kentucky, far-southwest Virginia, and east Tennessee.

The United Plant Savers, a nonprofit with a focus on native medicinal plants and their habitats, has identified many of the most popular forest medicinals as species of concern due to their declining populations.

Along with the herbal supply chain being largely native to Appalachia, the herb gatherers themselves are also native [to Appalachia, not Native American specifically], but because processing into medicine and seasonings takes place outside the region, the majority of the profits from the industry do too.

In a press release on Bell’s superb research and advocacy work within Appalachia’s botanical communities, she refers back to the moment that her interest in the industry and the region sprouted; when like many of us, she was out in a nearby woods waiting out the pandemic.

“My family and I spent a lot of time in the woods behind our house during quarantine,” Bell said. “We observed the emergence of all the spring ephemerals in the forest understory – hepatica, spring beauty, bloodroot, trillium, mayapple. I came to appreciate the importance of the region’s botanical biodiversity more than ever, and realized I wanted to incorporate this new part of my life into my research.”

With co-investigator, John Munsell at VA Tech’s College of Natural Resources and Environment, Bell’s project sought to identify ways that Central Appalachian communities could retain more of the profits from the herbal industry while simultaneously ensuring that populations of at-risk forest botanicals not only survive, but thrive and expand in the region.

Bell conducted participant observation and interviews with wild harvesters and is currently working on a mail survey with local herb buyers. She also piloted a ginseng seed distribution program, and helped a wild harvester write a grant proposal to start a forest farm.

“Economic development in post-coal communities often focuses on other types of energy development, like fracking and natural gas pipelines, or on building prisons and landfills. Central Appalachia is one of the most biodiverse places on the planet. I think that placing a greater value on this biodiversity is key to promoting a more sustainable future for the region,” Bell told VA Tech press.

Armed with a planning grant of nearly half a million dollars, Bell and collaborators are specifically targeting forest farming as a way to achieve that sustainable future.

Finally, enlisting support from the nonprofit organization Appalachian Sustainable Development, Virginia Tech, the City of Norton, a sculpture artist team, and various forest botanicals practitioners in her rolodex, Bell organized the creation of a ‘living monument’ along Flag Rock Recreation Area in Norton, Virginia.

An interpretive trail, the monument tells the story of the historic uses that these wild botanicals had for the various societies that have inhabited Appalachia, and the contemporary value they still hold for people today."

-via Good News Network, September 12, 2024

[surielstea]

Caretaker

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: Reader is sick & Az being the best bf ever

Warnings: slight suggestiveness, tooth rotting fluff

A/N: Literally wrote this when I was sick asf and high on cough medicine so I hope this makes sense 😭😭

2.2k words

My body tremors as another weak cough racks through me, my throat pulsing at the feeling. Watery eyes form tears, sliding down the bridge of my nose and dripping onto the plush pillow beneath my head.

I stare out the floor to ceiling window, marveling at the way the sidra morphs starlight into rainbow refractions. I sniffle, one of my nostrils completely closed off and making it a challenge to breathe. It was late. I didn't know the exact time but from the moons position in the sky I could guess it was far past midnight.

My mate hadn't come to bed and I debated clambering out of this all too hot bed to go and find him, wrap my arms around his waist and guide him back to our bed. But I can't expose him to whatever virus plagued me, in turn getting him sick, no matter how badly I missed his touch. It was already a risk to share the same bed, I couldn't push it.

Madja stopped by earlier and gave me a tonic to help ward off the cough but there was nothing she could do beyond that. I took the tonic minutes ago, the effects still settling in, I just hoped the cough would cease long enough for me to be able to fall asleep.

It's been days, my mate was convinced I was getting worse. He surveyed me like usual, but his gaze turned soft and pitiful every time a raucous cough came over me. Shadows kept me company, swirling fluidly against my back in a reassuring manner, the chill touch of them making me cool off from my heated state.

There was a soft knock at the door and I didn't have to look to know who it was. I adjusted under the covers, using my strength to sit up and lean against the headboard, teary eyed but making eye contact with the large winged male in the doorway. "Az." My voice was practically a whimper, a feeble excuse at calling for him.

"My love," He drew a long exhale, my sickness seemingly weighing on him as well.

"You can't be in here." I murmur, wiping my tears and wishing it was his hands instead of mine doing the act.

"I miss you." He offers me a soft smile as he tilts his head against the frame of the door, his silhouette from the hallway light made him look like some sort of angel.

"I don't want to get you sick." I shake my head, holding my arm out as if to shield him away but we both knew I held no power at the moment.

"It wouldn't be so bad," He tries to lighten the mood with a shrug. "I'd be off work, we could quarantine together. We'd read and cuddle and I could actually go within a ten feet radius of you." His words were convincing, and the idea has a smile tugging at my lips. That is until a croak of a cough rattles my body and I remember how irritating this illness is. I wouldn't want him to have this, ten foot radius or not.

"It's hard enough to stay away from you, don't tempt me." I sigh, allowing my bones to sink into the large matress.

"Worth a try." He mirrors my smile. "Do you need anything? Tea or soup?" He asks and I twist my lips to the side as I ponder what he could give me that would ever amount to how badly I want him and him alone. "A good book perhaps?" He arches a perfect brow. It pains me how well he knows me.

"A book would be nice." I hum and he pushes from the doorway, excited to accomplish a new task. His gaze lingers on me before he closes the door and his silent footsteps recede down the hall.

I look back out the window while I wait, fiddling with the mating ring around my fourth finger. My cough seemed to have settled, I'll have to tell my brother to increase Madja's salary for her admirable work — or maybe I'd pay her directly myself. As soon as I'm better I will, whenever that might be. I release a long sigh and allow my eyes to shut for a moment, I must've slept for half the day earlier but that didn't stop the rest from weighing at my heavy lids.

Before I dared slip into a sleep the spymaster opened the door with a multitude of items in his hands. I couldn't help but smile. The night courts intimidating Shadowsinger was at my door, with soup and tea and a book, taking care of me. He had one of the world's deadliest knife's at his thigh and he probably used it to cut open my tea bag.

"Az, I'm gonna cry." I warn. My already watery eyes verging on tears as I think about how much he does for me.

"No don't cry." His brows crease as he sits on his side of our bed, placing a bowl of soup down on my nightstand. "I tried to follow your mom's recipe but it won't be as good." He frowns and there's nothing more I want to do then kiss the pout off his perfect face. "And this is hot, so don't drink it for a few minutes." He places a steaming cup of tea beside the soup. "And this," He holds up a worn paper back book. "I went to Nesta and asked her for the best romance novel she could think of and she gave me this so." He places it on my lap. "Hopefully it's as smutty as you hope." He mutters beneath his breath and I flush hot but blamed it on my fever.

"Thank you." My voice was a rasp, he looked to my eyes. Hazel laced with love and admiration, the emotions reflecting on the golds and greens of his irises.

"Get some rest after eating, you have to get your strength up so I can get my sparring buddy back." He placed a hand on my forehead to check my temperature, something on his expression falls when he doesn't notice any difference from the last time he checked my temperature.

"Is Cassian not good enough anymore?" I scoff.

"He's not you." He huffs and an upside down smile spreads over my expression.

"I know you're sick but I really want to kiss you." He admits and just the idea makes me feel warmer inside. I grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him into me, his upper half hovering over me as I plant my lips onto his. I grin against the sensation, it's only been a few days but gods, how did I forget how perfect it felt to have his mouth against mine?

He pulls back first and I debate chasing him back but he pecks my forehead and I settle for it, leaning back onto my headboard yet again. "I'm going to finish up an assignment then I'll come to bed, okay?" He gets up from the bed and my eyes follow.

"Mhm." I nod tiredly.

"If I find you reading that book when I get back I'm taking it away." He warns and I bite my bottom lip mischievously.

"Goodnight lovely." A shadow tucks a strand of hair behind my ear as I watch him make his way to the door.

"Night Az." I muse in reply, already reaching for my bowl of the nostalgic meal.

—

About an hour later I had finished my entire bowl of soup and cup of tea. Both of them reminding me of my mother humming her favorite songs as she sewed her dresses, of Rhys teaching me how to fly before I could even walk, of Cassian brawling with my brother when he first moved in, and of Azriel's warm embrace.

I was curled into a ball with a mage light over my head, flipping through the pages of the romance novel Nesta lent me. It was a fantasy with just the right amount of erotica, the kind that would make any female flush. There were a few times when I'd have to close the book and take a breather before opening it back up, which meant it was perfection.

The door opened with a creak and I slammed the book shut the way a teenage boy might with a nude magazine. Azriel crinkles his brows at me and I look at him guiltlessly. "Evening handsome." I greet and he blinks at me like I'm crazy.

"Why are you being weird?" He utters, coming further into the room and closing the door behind him. I fold my lips inward to keep myself from laughing or possibly exposing that I was reading absolute filth just moments ago.

"Just reading." I shrug innocently and he narrowed his gaze in on me but seemed to let it go when striding over to the armoire to change. I watched him shamelessly as he stripped off his shirt, golden tan skin inked in swirling black. He shuffles through the drawers, giving me a full show of his muscular back and those large wings. My breath hitched as I stare without caution and a small chuckle sounds from him. He knows I'm watching, and at this point I can't find it in myself to care.

"Are you flexing on purpose?" I ask him as he discards his leathers for a pair of lounge pants.

"I'm not flexing love." He confesses and my stomach does backflips. Cords of muscle rippled from his shoulders down to his bulging arms, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at least a little turned on. And he was just standing there. He turns to look at my tinged cheeks and it only makes me blush more. The eye contact just might kill me. The nonchalance and causality of it made my stomach churn, as if he wasn't standing there in front of me shirtless.

"You're teasing." I set my book on the nightstand and sink down into my pillows.

"How so?" His question is half a laugh because he knows what he's doing.

"I can't have you right now." I whine like some sort of child, pulling the blankets up and over my head so I don't have to look at his chest that seemed to be sculpted by the gods themselves. The bed sinks and I know he's now beside me. I can't help but gravitate towards him only to stop myself because I know cuddling would get him sick.

His strong arm wraps around my waist and pulls my back to his chest.

"No, Az I don't want to get you sick." I protest, pulling away with the weakest strength since the predicament at hand wasn't all too bad.

"I already told you I don't care if I get sick." He brings me in closer and who was I to deny my mate's embrace?

It was nice to lay beside him, nice to have his warmth radiating onto me. I missed him even if it's only been a few days, even if he still sleeps beside me every night. I missed the physicality of it. Azriel's never been one for touch but sometimes I go through phases where if I don't have my hands constantly on him I'd collapse.

So I allowed myself to lean into his chest, matching my breathing to his and intertwining my hand with his scarred one. "I love you." He hums into my shoulder, placing gentle kisses to the crook of my neck and a soft smile spreads across my lips.

"Would you still love me if—" I begin but he doesn't let me finish,

"Yes." His tone is confident and didn't waver for a beat.

"You don't even know what I was going to say." I pout and I feel him shake his head against me.

"As long as you're still you, I love you." He professes and I flip around to look at his golden eyes that the stars themselves were outmatched against.

"I love you too." My voice is a mere whisper but a wide grin takes over his face, revealing his dimples. His smile was so bright I thought for a moment that sun wouldn't rise in fear of rivaling it. "And I'm totally getting you sick." I threaten but he doesn't seem to mind, especially not when I lean forward a few inches in order to kiss that grin.

"Sleep, love." He coerced and pulls me into his chest, his wing draping over me like a blanket, blocking out any seeping light from the moon outside. "I'll be here in the morning." He muses, smoothing a scarred hand over my hair. He continues to play with the strands until I'm drifting off into that touch, his warmth inviting me to sleep.

Azriel was quick to follow, once he noticed my breathing even out. Shadows settle around us as his lids grow heavy and his weight falls into the bed. With me in his arms it was easier for him to sleep, the comfort of knowing I'm safe while in his hold pushed him further into that sweet relief of rest.

[transfaguette]

BBC posted an article "study finds pandemic had 'minimal effects' on mental health" (despite the study not surveying the most at-risk demographics, among other things) and then people responding to it with "oh yeah? look at this wacky thing I did during quarantine xd" and man I hate this like, gentrification of mental illness. Yes your animal crossing island is very silly or whatever but also people killed themselves.

[hyuuukais]

⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ LOOK UP TO THE STARS

pairing ▪︎ han jisung x fem reader

synopsis ▪︎ sent out on a mission to a neighbouring QZ that's gone radio silent, y/n falls into the hands of a post-rebellion group after things go terribly wrong. giving up on rejoining her squad, she joins the group on a trek to find a missing member, the group leader's sister. what's supposed to be a not-so-simple trip out and back to their base becomes a one-way ticket to the end of everything they know.

warnings ▪︎ general, blood, broken bones, some description of injuries

MASTERLIST | NEXT

CHAPTER ONE ▪︎ SET UP FOR FAILURE (7.2k)

"What do you do when a nearby Quarantine Zone has gone radio silent?"

The squad leader paces the front of the classroom, watching hands fly up. This year, there are fewer cadets than ever, the population dwindling constantly. They're eager, hungry for field action, wanting to see the hypothetical scenarios themselves. Sure, the simulations were exciting, and the history of the world prior to the apocalypse was interesting enough. Still, even you, one of the few who genuinely liked these classes, were getting sick of sitting back and hearing about missions instead of being able to see it all firsthand.

"Send out a squad?" You answer when your hand is picked, shrugging.

"No." You wince at your squad leader's strict voice, but it relaxes. "Not a squad, just a few troops to scout the area and survey the damage. So, not entirely wrong, but not entirely correct either." He leans back on the chipped blackboard, hands behind his back. "This is stuff you'll need to get down if you want to move up in the ranks, all of you. I'm not singling you out Y/n- ehem, Cadet L/n."

A few people in the back giggle at the slip-up, knowing your more personal relationship with the soldier standing before you. He hides a smirk behind a well-trained stoic face, your own painted with a furious blush of red. Like the professional he is, the lesson continues without much of a pause, only briefly calling out the laughter to remind everyone who's in charge here.

After being drilled with so much information it could cause a migraine, you're finally able to leave. The next parts of your day include physical training and weaponry practice, then dinner, and bed at 10:30PM sharp. No time for chitchat, no time for leisure outside of the confines of your small room. Not that you've earned your own room yet, so at least you have your roommates to entertain you.

You hang back, having a few minutes to spare before heading off to throw punches or do push-ups or whatever they'll have you doing next. Just enough time to give Minho an equally needed break.

"Squad Leader Lee?" You approach his desk once everyone is gone with a flirty tone in your voice. "Why, that lesson was... I have no words, truly. The way your voice projects over such a large room, so deep and velvety, really. And don't even get me started on how good you look in that uniform-"

"Cadet L/n, that's enough," he says in a strict enough tone you almost take him seriously.

"My bad, my bad. So, what is it?" You ask, grinning. "No dessert or bathroom duties?"

"How about both?" His face finally betrays him, the corners of his mouth upturned.

"Now there's that cruel soldier everyone believes you to be!" You cry, dramatically holding a hand over your heart. "How could you! You know how much I love the mushy crumble and how much I hate cleaning those disgusting public toilets. Just cause humanity has fallen doesn't mean you can't still be decent, people!"

You both laugh a bit too loudly, and you're about to continue your acting until a harsh knock on the open door interrupts you. Swiveling around, you're met with the hard stare of your Captain.

"Cadet. Squad Leader," He greets, clearing his throat and eyeing you. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Y-yes," You flinch. "Yes, sir."

"Better head off then," He says, waving you off as he enters the room. "Squad Leader Lee, spare a minute?"

"Of course, sir." Minho stands, voice fading as you rush down the hall.

-

"What is going on with you two?"

Standing over your panting figure is Seungmin, your best friend since coming to the QZ. He offers you a hand, taking it away just as you go to grab it.

"Dick." You push yourself off the ground, sweat dripping down your back. "Nothing, you know this! Why does everyone think something's going on?"

"Duh, because you knew each other before coming here? You have history," Seungmin wiggles his eyebrows, bumping his shoulder against yours. "Another round?"

"What? So you can just kick my ass again?" You huff. "We both know you're a better fighter."

"Only in the physical sense. I'd hate to be on your bad side with a weapon in your hand, sheesh." He hands you your water bottle and a rag, grabbing his own after. "Besides, you were obviously distracted today. Usually, you're much better."

"Complimenting me, are we?"

"Never." He grimaces, taking a seat on the bench.

You follow his lead, sitting back and watching your fellow cadets spar on the mats. Some just use their fists, like you and Seungmin, and some are equipped with small knives. No one is allowed to critically injure someone else, but accidents happen, usually among the more bloodthirsty of your peer group.

"Fuck, he's brutal," you say, pointing to the back where a larger member of the group is throwing down his opponent. "Lucky I got stuck with your skinny ass."

"My skinny a- really? Look," Seungmin smacks your right arm, as you shake with laughter. "Look. Call this skinny?" He flexes his muscles in his left arm, putting your hand over his sleeved arm to prove his point. "I could crush you. I will crush you."

Empty threats, empty promises, but full, full laughter erupting from your throat. It's short-lived, however, as your Captain is now walking toward you through the mats.

"Jesus, this guy and I just keep running into each other today, huh?" You mutter, wiping away excess water from your mouth.

"This guy could use you as zombie bait-" Seungmin abruptly stands and salutes. "Afternoon, Captain."

"Good afternoon, Cadet Kim. As good as it can be these days." He clears his throat as you stand, copying Seungmin's behaviours. "Cadet L/n, we meet again. First, you're taking up Squad Leader Lee's time, and now you're slacking in your physical training."

"She just needed a minute to breathe-"

"I'm talking to Cadet L/n right now," the Captain cuts Seungmin off who's barely hiding his annoyance. He's never liked your Captain. "If you keep up like this, you'll never improve. Just some food for thought."

"Yes, Captain Park."

"Now, get back out there. You still have time for a few rounds before weaponry training." He turns halfway, looking at you over his shoulder. "Change your stance and you'll get knocked down less. Cadet Kim, I trust you can show her?"

"Of course, sir."

"Good." With that, he heads out.

"Why was he even watching us?" You cross your arms, no longer hiding your disgust. "Doesn't he have better things to do?"

"Apparently not." Seungmin steps back onto the nearest mat where you like to train, easy to step off for breaks both necessary and unnecessary. "Let's get back at it, I guess. I don't want to get stuck on dish duty."

-

After all training for the day concludes, you head to the cafeteria, planning to grab a sandwich and head back to your room early. As usual, the area is full of hungry soldiers, making it hard to be quick. You tend to avoid eating here and getting stuck in meaningless conversations with people you likely won't see again, never sticking around long enough to make proper friends. Seungmin was scheduled for dinner a half hour after you, leaving you alone for the first half. The one time you waited to eat with Seungmin and his friends was the most painfully awkward experience of your life, standing against the wall with your tray of food trying desperately to not get knocked over by the sea of bodies.

Nothing against Seungmin and his friends, but you didn't know them that well either. You briefly met Ryujin that day, but she was similar to you. She spared enough time to talk and eat, but once she was done, she was done. Gone to her room early for God knows what.

For a while there was Jeongin, but he was mistakenly sent on a mission; something that was supposed to be a fake scenario turned out to be very much real. No one's seen him since. They didn't find a body, so you have to assume he turned. You've never asked Seungmin what he thinks happened knowing it's a touchy subject, changing the topic whenever someone else brings it up.

Today is different, something in the air makes you want to hang around. There's a feeling of secrecy, whispers of rumours thick in the air. Getting as close as you can to the people next to you in line without it being weird, you try to eavesdrop. They're also cadets, but from a different squad; you don't recognize them.

"No way, they would tell us that, wouldn't they?" The taller one says, further away from you.

"You really think so?" The one closer to you scoffs. "The higher-ups don't tell us shit about anything that goes on beyond these walls."

"Okay, but isn't missing a whole QZ kind of, I don't know, important?"

You grab a spoonful of bland potatoes.

"Obviously it is!" The shorter one whispers. "But at our level, I seriously doubt they'll let us know. We won't even be able to do anything anyway since we can't go beyond the walls yet."

"Sometimes they let squads out of training early." The taller one scoops some beans. "Maybe-"

"Shh, Captain Park is right there." He hands you the spoon, unaware of your part in the conversation.

So that must be why Minho had to discuss abandoned QZ's and the procedures today. You knew it wasn't the originally planned lesson, hearing Minho complain all about it the day before after class. Maybe he knows something. Maybe he's just as in the dark as the rest of you, only being told of a sudden lesson change and that's it. Could he be hiding something from you? That talk with the Captain...

"Hey, keep the line moving!" Someone shouts, unfreezing you.

You dash out of the cafeteria, leaving your food behind. It's okay, it was barely edible anyway.

If Minho knows something, you'll find out. He can't keep secrets from you and you know it, using the fact to get ahead of the rest of your class even though you already knew it all. But this? Something to this extent?

"Minho!" You swing the door open only to be met with not just Minho, but Squad Leader Seo as well. "Oh, um, evening squad leaders. I just, um, came to..." You spot an assignment paper on Minho's desk, snatching one up. "...grab a new copy of this! Once you're available, could we go over question nine? I got a bit confused."

"Question nine..." Squad Leader Seo leans over to look at the papers. "'What to do if a zombie bites your fellow soldier'? Sounds pretty straightforward to me."

You bite your lip, cursing yourself for not looking at the questions first.

"Of course, Squad Leader," you address her, putting on your acting face. "The thing is, the question's a bit broad, no?" She cocks an eyebrow. "Well, you see, where was this soldier bit? Obviously, there's no hope if it's the neck. Goner, shoot in the head. But what if it's the forearm? Or the calf? Are you not able to amputate the limb before infection spreads?"

Squad Leader Seo just shakes her head. "She's all yours, Lee."

You stand back triumphant. If there's one thing you're good at, it's annoying or confusing people to your advantage.

"Wow," Minho gives you a slow clap. "Just... wow. Next time I wanna get someone off my back, I'll give you a call."

"Gotta use my natural talent somewhere," you chuckle, taking a seat in the chair Seo must have pulled over. "Not like actress' still exist."

"Clowns do."

"Screw you!" You ball up the paper, tossing it at him lightly. It bounces off his chest and falls to the floor.

"So why are you here now? Don't you only have-" He checks his watch. "-eleven minutes until your dinner hour is over? Meaning I have eleven until mine starts."

"I had a question."

"Something more important than getting a well balanced meal in?" Minho raises an eyebrow.

"Way more important. And you know those meals are gross, you and your secret spice stash... you still need to tell me where you get those. Anyway!" You take a breath, unsure how to approach the topic without being too blunt. "I've heard people talking-"

"-because they're always so truthful."

"Shut up." You lean in, not wanting to risk any passerby hearing. You really should have shut the door behind you and risked talk about you and Minho. "I overheard some cadets talking about a neighbouring QZ going silent and couldn't help but think that it might have had to do with our lesson today. Do you know anything about this?"

Minho stiffens. "If I knew something, I couldn't tell you, you know that."

"But I'm your exception." You roll your eyes. "We both know that."

"For a lot of things, yes, but this?" He eyes the door. "Even if I wanted to tell you, I can't, and that's final."

"Minho-"

"That's final," His tone is harsh, the only way he knows how to get you to stop pressing further. "Got it, Cadet?"

"Got it," you mumble, pouting.

You really thought you'd be able to get something, anything, a crumb of information from him, but no. He had to put Squad Leader Lee on and Minho away, leaving you with the same info as you walked in with.

An idea was brewing, and Minho could tell.

"What's that face for?" He questions. "You're scheming, aren't you?"

"No," you say, all too quickly. "Course not. Nice chatting with you!"

You stand abruptly, your chair squeaking backward as you dash out of the room to avoid questions. Fellow cadets stare as you bound past them, back to the cafeteria. There were two minutes left in your hour, just enough to pull Seungmin out of his chair and to the side, leading him outside before he can protest or even register what was happening.

Cold air hits your face, skin prickling in the early spring moonlight. Turning him to face you, you let go of Seungmin's arm. There are few people occupying outdoor seats on the patio, still too cool to have a meal enjoyably. This works in your favour, moving to the table furthest from the doors for some privacy.

"Why'd you drag me out here? Can't a man eat in peace?"

"Short answer, no." You drag a hand through your hair, only loose during your free time. "Long answer, we're going to break into Minho's office."

"Should I get Captain Park to drag you to the infirmary? Because you've lost it, genuinely lost it."

"Ugh, I've seen him enough today," you groan. "Listen, Minho obviously knows something about what's going on-"

"What's going on?" Seungmin asks.

"Haven't you heard of the abandoned QZ?"

"Oh, that," he says. "It's just a rumour."

"Or is it?" You smile devilishly. "I asked Minho about it and the way he reacted suggests otherwise, plus my lesson today was all about radio silence. It all adds up!"

"It all adds up because you want it to add up." Seungmin scans the patio, inhaling when more people join you outside. "We shouldn't be talking about this."

"Fine, don't join me." You lean back hard, arms crossed. "I'm gonna do it anyway."

"Well, it was nice knowing you." He leaves you then, and you realize your dinner hour is past over.

Sneaking back to your room will have to do. Good practice for tonight! But your mind wanders as you head back. What if doing this hurts your friendship with Minho? Should you really risk so much over some rumour? Besides, even if it's true, if you get caught you won't be able to go with your squad to check it out anyway.

"Not that they send training squads..." You pout, opening your door.

You're met with hushes, creaks of beds, and giggling.

"Relax, it's just me."

"Oh good, it's about time you showed up." Your roommate, Yeji, sits up with her hair all messed up from trying to act asleep. "I thought you'd be in Captain Park's office again."

"Nope. Almost in Minho's though."

"Fucking finally!" Yeji cocks her head, a wide smile on her face.

"Took you long enough," another voice says.

A head pops up from Yeji's bed, and your other roommate Yuna lies there. You realize it's actually Yuna's bed they're in, having both rushed thinking you were someone else.

"I'm gonna get my stuff and get ready for bed," you say, grabbing a small netted bag with a towel and soap inside. "Don't have too much fun while I'm gone."

Closing the door with a soft click, you head to the communal showers. They're at the end of the corridor, each squad getting their own with their floor. Your squad, number fourteen-three, kept it surprisingly clean and even won an award for housekeeping the year before. This was your last year here, moving on with the rest of the squad to the frontlines next year. That is, if you make it that far.

Privacy was hard to come by, so you sit in the shower stall a little longer after the water's turned off. Wrapped in your towel, you slouch sideways against the wall, closing your eyes for just a minute. At first, you think you're dreaming of the voices you hear, shaking yourself awake. Goosebumps prickle at your skin for the second time that night, either from the cool air coming in from under the shower curtain, or the realization of people joining you.

"No, you can't tell her anything." Oh, you're definitely not supposed to be hearing this. "I don't care how much you trust her. You know how much I want to tell Bin, and I can't. I don't see how this is much different."

Squad Leader Seo sighs, loudly.

"She won't tell anyone," Minho replies.

They're talking about you.

"She'll tell Seungmin, who will tell Ryujin, who will tell Yuna, who will tell Bin. Then what?" Seo hisses. "You need to understand this."

"I hate this." Minho shuffles. "I hate not knowing and not being able to do anything."

"I know you do. I do too," her voice softens. "Last I heard is they're planning to make an official announcement tomorrow. Hopefully, that'll be enough to satisfy her curiosity."

"It better be."

Their voices fade and you wait, you wait until it's completely silent, and then some, ensuring they'll be gone by the time you step out.

-

Soldiers shuffle around to find empty seats, sitting with their squads. In the row in front of you sits Minho, next to him Squad Leader Seo, with a gap large enough for one person to walk through between their seats to separate their squads, fourteen-three and fourteen-four. The other two squads in your section are seated in the rows ahead of you, not much further away. Your squad only consists of ten people, two rows of five each. Yeji and Yuna sit to your right, Seungmin to your left.

"Attention!" Captain Park clears his throat from the stage; you think this used to be a school's auditorium. "Please, give me your attention!"

Everyone falls silent.

"Thank you. Now," He points at a white sheet behind him, an image of a map projected onto it. "We are here." He points to a small red dot at the bottom of the map. "Our closest neighbouring QZ's are here," he points at a green dot, "and here." He points at a blue dot. They look close enough, but you know from studying the maps they're a lot further than they seem.

"For a long time, we've established trade routes to help sustain us, sent trained soldiers and healers to each other when needed," he begins his speech. "This system has worked for thirty years." Captain Park takes a few steps on the stage. "Now, one of them has gone radio silent. We haven't heard back from them nor our messengers who've been sent out to find out what's happened."

A few people gasp, whispers arising. Panic fills the air, heads turning and some even standing up.

"Sit back down!" Captain Park barks. "There's no need to panic, really. All but one of our messengers have gone and not come back. It turns out they've been... overrun, slightly, forced to the middle of their zone where the infected beings have trapped them.

"Most of the infected have wandered back out, running out of resources." You cringe; he means people. "So we're using this as a training opportunity. Thanks to some of our best squad leadership yet, we're sending out squads fourteen-three and thirteen-four. You're about to graduate early!"

Shock runs through your body so intensely your hair could be standing up. So the rumour was true, and you're being sent out.

You're being sent out.

You.

"Shit," you gasp, tears forming in your wide eyes.

"Y/n! Did you hear- hey." Seungmin takes your face in his hands, catching the falling tears with his thumbs. "No crying where people can see you, remember?" You sniff, nodding. "Good. This is good news. We're finally getting a chance to get out of here and experience the real world."

"Right," you say, determination taking over your numb face. "Right! Finally!"

You jump out of your seat, joining the rest of your excited squad mates. This was an opportunity you couldn't pass up, no matter how frightening it is now that it's happening. You're leaving, you're really leaving.

But when you lock eyes with Minho, all you can see devastation.

-

Twelve hours later you were in the backseat of a vehicle heading to the next QZ. Sitting next to you is Seungmin, silently looking out of the window. Most of the surrounding area had turned into dense forest, the dirt road bumpy. Minho was up front driving, one hand on the wheel and the other lounging in the open window, wind coming back and hitting you in the face.

You drifted in and out of sleep on the trip, a restless night keeping you up before. This morning offered barely any time to down some kind of caffeinated drink and a small breakfast, packing some for on the road. It feels like a lifetime has passed since you left, seeing more of the real world than you've seen in a long time.

Most people in your squad had either been born in the QZ or arrived at such a young age that they don't have any memories of outside of it, but you had lived beyond it for the first decade of your life. It wasn't hard to forget since you'd become so accustomed to life inside the walls.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Seungmin's voice brings you back to reality.

"Hmm?" You detach your eyes from the trees, looking over at your friend. "Oh, nothing, really. Just kind of zoning out."

"You better zone back in." Seungmin points between the front seats and you follow his gaze. "We're here."

In front of you stands a large, grey wall with a secured gate and two lookout spots on either side. Barbed wire lines the top of the structure, although you highly doubt zombies can climb. There isn't much difference from your own, just a different number spray painted above the gate. Nothing looks out of the ordinary, minus the missing soldiers.

"How'd the infected even get in?" You ask, thinking out loud.

No one answers, unease settling in. Minho leaves the vehicle first, circling around to grab his gun from the back. Yeji leaves next and you follow, Seungmin and Ryujin out last. On you, you have two small knives strapped to your thigh and a small pistol on your hip. Lastly, you have a slingshot tucked into your back pocket, a small satchel secured across your body to hold ammo.

The five of you walk toward the gate, Minho punching a code into the pin pad on the right. With a groan, the gate starts sliding open. Behind that gate is another for extra security also requiring a code, so Minho continues on, the rest of you getting your weapons out to prepare. You hold one of your knives, opting for something quieter before the chaos ensues. This gate creaks open slightly faster, allowing entrance into the QZ.

"So," Minho slows to a stop a few steps ahead. "That must be how they got in."

To the left is a huge hole in the wall, still smoking from whatever- or whoever- blew it out. Infected figures twitch and drag their feet around by the opening, far enough away they won't see you quite yet. Unlike your own QZ, there's a big parking lot to your left with what you assume are all of this QZ's vehicles, still intact. The explosion might have been big, but not enough to reach every inch of the area. To your right is a short building, probably where patrol squads check in and out, or where newcomers are interviewed. Straight ahead is a homemade gravel road leading into more domestic areas, small houses lining beyond the obvious military buildings out front.

You knew once you reached a certain rank you'd be able to get your own apartment or even a house like these ones, but you've never seen so many. This comes as a shock to you, believing you were one of the largest QZ's in the area, but you guess largest doesn't need to apply to the population within the walls, but the space it takes up.

"Squad Leader Lee." Seo runs up, placing a hand on his shoulder. "How're we doing this?"

He thinks for a minute, staring at the gaping hole.

"Split your squad into two," he starts. "You'll take half to the left with half of mine, leave the rest with Changbin." She gives him a look, clearly against the idea. "We both know he's capable and this is training after all. He'll lead his half and mine to the right side, snaking through buildings to reach the middle ones marked on the map. You and I will head to the right, taking out the infected as we go."

"Should we not all go right? We're here to rescue, not to kill." Squad Leader Seo turns him to face Minho, hand falling from his shoulder. "We shouldn't go into unnecessary danger."

"If all of those infected catch wind of where we are, not only will everyone on the right side then be trapped, but we'll have every single one of them after us. This way we can thin out the hoard." Minho checks his ammo, a way of signifying the end of the argument. "Feel free to do what you think is right, but don't blame me when your squad gets killed."

Squad Leader Seo looks taken aback, unused to Minho in action, hard and strict. Face void of emotion, he motions his squad forward to section off who will go where. Of course, you're chosen for his group, along with Ryujin, Seungmin chosen to lead the others going with Changbin.

"I swear to fucking God if you die-" You adjust the strap holding Seungmins ammo.

"I should be saying that to you," He chuckles. "You die on me and I'll kill you."

"Please do," You say, semi-serious. "I don't wanna be one of them."

"I won't let that happen," Minho says from behind you, gaining both your and Seungmins attention. "Finish your goodbyes and let's go."

"He can be such a dick." Seungmin rolls his eyes. "Comes with age, I guess."

"Shut up," You laugh. "He's not even much older than us."

Seungmin half-smiles, looking down at you. "My squad is gonna leave me if I don't go now. Squad Leader Kim, out."

"Wait." You grab his arm when he moves past you. "Not even a proper goodbye?"

He considers this. "I don't want to say goodbye to you."

"How about see you later?" You offer. "That promises we'll meet again after."

"Promises don't exist in this world," He says, but notices the way your face drops. "I'll... make an exception this time. See you later, bug."

"Squad section one, over here!" Minho waves his arms, signalling you and the others assigned to him over.

"See you later," you say finally.

Your section moves out, staying low between abandoned vehicles and corners of buildings, slowly but surely making your way to the hole. The closer you get, the more infected you see.

They look worse up close, prominent black veins popping out of their necks. Some limp, some stalk, some just stand there unmoving. You're hiding behind the tire of a truck, barely out of sight, and watch as one inches its way over. Its eyes are sunken in, lines deep in the skin, and nails grown out long with dirt and decay stuck underneath the tips. As it starts getting closer to your location, you make eye contact with Minho who sits behind a concrete barrier across from you. He makes a motion downward and you know what he's saying immediately. Crouching low, you slide your body underneath the truck, knife ready. You can see the feet shuffling through the front.

"Stay there," Minho mouths, wielding a knife of his own.

Part of you wants to disobey; it'd be so easy to take it down! But you know better. Moving too early won't just risk you, but your squad too.

It stops at the side, tips of its feet underneath the truck and right by your arm. Sweat beads on your forehead, nerves buzzing beneath your skin. You didn't know how much intelligence these things really had, always learning they lost most of it once turned. Most, not all. What if it somehow senses you and crouches down; or turns around and spots Minho? Would it grab you, claw at your skin until it's raw and bleeding, dragging you out finally to feast?

But it does none of that, simply standing there.

You move slowly to the other side of the truck and survey your surroundings, taking in where you can move to for quick cover. There isn't much, mostly rubble, but you spot a home nearby where a piece of blown-out wall has made a new entrance. You'd have to stay low as there isn't much to hide you on the way, but you couldn't stay here trapped under this vehicle. Making eye contact with Minho, you nod your head toward it. He has an easy route to move there, and so does most of the squad, you're the only one who has to risk anything.

He moves toward the front of the house, opting to use the front door.

"Always has to do it his way," you mutter, dragging your body out from underneath the truck.

What you failed to see is another infected making its way from the back of the truck, a low growl escaping its throat as you go into a low crouch. Slowly, you turn around right as it sprints at you, pouncing and pinning your arms down. Instead of biting you right away, it screams, spit flying onto your face and neck, and you notice the way its skin is peeling away from the corners of its mouth. You fight your own shout, struggling against the strength of its hold.

This is it. It'll go for the killing blow in a second.

I'm sorry Minho, you think as you see other infected alert at the sound of your attack. I'm sorry Seungmin, I'm sorry Squad Leader Seo, I'm sorry Yeji, Ryujin, Changbin-

You fight back tears as the infected on top of you continues to wail and wonder why it hasn't bitten you yet, why it's prolonging this encounter when you could be dead already. The grip on your forearms is bruising, pushing them deeper into the ground.

You hear it before you see it- another explosion as the hoard gathers. All you can do is hope the others got to safety, even if you're going to die here. Your first mission, failed.

A hand comes out of nowhere, piercing the infected in the skull and it drops onto you, rolling to the side. When the grip loosens, you push the dead weight off your body, grabbing the hand now offering help.

"I said I'm not letting you become worm food." Minho runs with you, hand still holding yours. "Everyone, back down! Head to the gates!"

No one hesitates. Another two explosions sound behind you and you don't dare to look back, the second sounding closer than the first. The ground rumbles underneath your feet and you stumble, Minho barely catching you before you hit the ground. Shrieks sound from behind you, terribly human. You finally glance behind.

Ground and body parts fly up in the air and you can see the grenades being thrown from all sides. You catch a glimpse of someone running across the destruction, face half covered in a black cloth and sunglasses obscuring his eyes.

"There's people!" You shout over the noise, forcing Minho to stop as you stare in horror. "We have to help them!"

"Pretty sure they're the ones causing this shit," Minho says, close to your ear. "We need to get out of here while we still can."

You want to protest, but the grenade that lands by your feet suggests you move. The two of you barely make it behind a parked van before it blows, heat blasting over you. Whoever is doing this either has no idea your squad is there, or don't care.

"We just need to get past those buildings." Minho points, and you realize how close you are to the exit.

You're on the gravel road straight to the exit, right by the beginnings of the training buildings, short and matching the patrol station at the front. The next moves are obvious; book it out. Emerging from your left are the other two squads and you can see Seungmin scanning the area until he spots you. Clearly, he wants to run to you, but something is stopping him and you don't have to guess what it is when you hear the now familiar groans and cries.

"Now!" Minho shouts, running out of cover.

A second delayed, you follow. The gravel is uneven and holey, making it hard not to slip. Minho is faster than you as you pant, trying to catch up. At the gates, he stops and turns in your direction, watching in slow motion as a heavy-duty, homemade bomb of sorts lands near you, tumbling to the edge of a building and blowing bits of concrete everywhere, the force knocking you down. A larger piece traps your left leg, pinned against the ground.

"Y/n!" You look up, seeing Seungmin rush to you and Minho frozen to the spot. "Damn it, this is really heavy."

He attempts to lift the chunk off of you and you scream out, face contorting in pain. You can feel the broken bone threatening to rip your skin. Seungmin comes back into sight, gun in hand, frantically shooting above you. Twisting the best you can, you reach for your own gun and find it missing. You must have lost it with all the running and ducking.

Now you can see the infected coming at you in full force.

"Seungmin, go!" You cry out, panting. "Get out of here!"

"What happened to no goodbyes?" He backs up slightly, spotting something you can't see from down here. "Shit."

Seungmin is back by your side, desperate to get the piece of wall off of you. He falls back, an infected clawing at his shoulder. Blood seeps through the beige fabric of his coat and he winces, using his good arm to hit the creature in the neck with his knife. Distracted, you don't notice the infected leaping at your body unit it's too late, eyes now trained on Minho being held back by Squad Leader Seo. You can see her shouting at him as he struggles to get past her, ultimately failing when she gets Changbin to help drag him toward the gates. Reading his lips, you realize he's been shouting your name, and twist back around just in time to see the infected land over you.

"No!" Your body is contorted painfully, not able to fully turn onto your back to fend off the creature due to your leg being trapped. "Get off!"

Sharp nails claw into your hip and pushing it downward, a scream of pain ripping from your throat. Your hip was definitely not supposed to turn that far. The other hand digs into your jaw, a terrifying set of teeth descending on you.

A gunshot sounds and blood pours out of a small hole in its forehead and onto your neck, body falling limp and releasing your own. Your body falls back into the natural position it should be in; back on your stomach. People you don't recognize are helping Seungmin up from under the infected that attacked him, a couple more running behind you. You're too tired to turn around and see what they're doing, barely registering the pressure change on your leg. Minho is gone, and so is the rest of your squad it seems, gates closed.

They left you for dead.

He left you for dead.

Hot, angry tears roll down your face as your vision begins to blacken, unable to keep it inside anymore. Loose hair tumbles over your eyes, getting stuck in the mix of tears and blood, slicking over your forehead when you put your head down on the gravel path. Every muscle in your body is crying out, burning white hot as you're lifted.

Someone puts an arm under your armpits and another under your legs, holding you bridal style, and your head falls into their chest. You know it's not Seungmin, having forced him to carry you enough times when you were too lazy to walk to a shared class or back to your room. Eyes barely open, you watch as blurry figures run back in the direction of the hole in the wall. There's a group of three in front of you, one holding onto another while the third helps them keep up with the rest of the group.

"Anyone see Ji?" The one holding you yells out, voice thick with an Australian accent.

"Last I saw, he was climbing out of the lookout." Someone jogs up beside you. "She looks like crap. Why didn't you leave her?"

"Everyone else already left her, figured she could use a hand."

"Do you think he's gonna be okay back there?" They ask. "Lots of military personnel and still tons of infected wandering about too."

"He'll be fine." He stops walking. "Mind opening the trunk? And maybe riding back here with her?"

"You know I hate riding in the back, it makes me nervous," they grumble, but still obey the request. "Lemme go grab my pack from the other truck."

"Don't bother, we're all going to the same place." He lifts you up, placing you down carefully on what feels like a thin blanket and flat pillow. "Better to get out now-"

"Hey! I'm here!" A voice cuts him off. "Damn, that looks a lot worse up close."

"Oh thank God." The person who was supposed to stay with you steps away from the truck. "He can go with her considering he saved her life and all. See you!"

See you later.

"Seung... Seungmin...?" You mumble, eyes fluttering closed as you feel the back of the truck move under the weight of someone stepping on it. "Is he...?"

"Shh." A warm hand gently pushes the strands of hair off your face. "Man, she's burning up."

"Here. Keep an eye on her until we get back to camp." The voice gets further away. "Bang on the back window if she starts dying or something."

"Got it." That's the last thing you hear before slipping into the dark completely.

-

Three days later, you open your eyes. They're dry, having to blink several times before you can register the dim light around you. You're on an uncomfortable cot in what you assume is a medical tent, three other unoccupied cots around you. Next to each is a small wooden table, all empty except yours which has half a bottle of water and a lantern, the source of the light. The entrance of the tent is closed, but you can still tell it's night. Looking over to the other side, you see someone's back turned to you.

"Hel-" You clear your throat, voice low and rough. "Hello? Where... am I?"

You try to sit up as they walk over to you, but pain shoots through your very soul. Biting back a shout, you stop moving.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He hands you the water. "Drink up.

"You look familiar," You say, taking in his foxlike features. "Is this another outpost?"

"No, not exactly." He turns his face away from you. "I have to let the others know you're awake, but take this-" He hands you a couple of pills. "-it'll help with the pain."

With that, he exists the tent. You don't know how long it takes until he comes back with another man by his side, but you've managed to sit up the best you can. One of your legs is tucked under you, the left sticking straight out in a makeshift splint.

"You're awake." You recognize the accent.

"You're the one who saved me."

He chuckles, taking a seat in a chair on the right.

"I can't take all the credit," He says, looking down at his hands briefly. "One of our snipers took out the infected on you. You asked about your teammate before passing out... he's okay, still recovering from a shoulder injury though."

"Seungmin's okay?" You shift suddenly in your bed, bad move, and wince at the soreness.

"Try not to move so much," The boy from earlier says.

"Yes, he's okay, and he's been asking about you too." He sits back. "This is only the second time he's left your side since you got here."

Hearing that makes your heart ache.

"So, I figure it's time for proper introductions!" He claps his hands together, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "My name is Chan, welcome to what's left of the rebellion. That over there-" he points to the boy, who really looks about your age. "-is Jeongin."

"What?" Your head whips toward the boy. "That's why you look familiar! This is where you went? Oh my God, everyone thought you were dead! Does Min know?"

"That's..." Jeongin crosses his arms uncomfortably. "A story for another time."

"Chan!" A head pops into the tent. "Oh, I didn't realize she was awake, sorry."

"It's okay. What is it Chae?"

"The squad is back," She announces. "I told H-"

"Captain!" A man strides into the tent and 'Chae' leaves with a small eye roll.

"I told you to stop calling me that-" Chan stands, rubbing his forehead. "I'm kind of busy right now, the report will have to wait a minute."

Chan gestures toward you and the man's eyes widen.

"She's awake! I mean, you're awake, sorry," He says, giving an awkward smile and holding a hand out; you take it hesitantly. "I'm Han, Han Jisung. The guy who saved your ass."

---

notes ▪︎ first chapter let's goooo. i'm actually so excited for this u have no idea. i love love LOVE zombie/apocalypse stuff sm!! so it's nice to share smthn like that

─── taglist (18+) : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom @manuosorioh @hanjisunglover @xxstrayland @puppyminnnie @hanjsquokka @kpopsstuffs @ot8girlfie

[thinemoonshine]

𓆰𝒶 𝒷𝓊𝒹 ♡𓆪

cha hyun su x female reader genre: romance, tiny fluff, angst, slowburn type: series (but can also be read as a oneshot) word count: 1,785

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ part 2 of series

Cha Hyun Su never really stands out in Green Home Apartment- both literally and figuratively. One, because he rarely comes out of his room, and the other is simply because he never bothers to socialize. So when he suddenly becomes this sort of 'saviour' for the residents when the mysterious monster outbreak started, naturally, he gathered attention- both good and bad.

Because he is in fact, abnormal. A paradox. He's an infected; a monster, the humans' common enemy and yet he's also a hero. And humans fear those that are unusual— even when they themselves have seen the goodness in his capabilities. Because as people tend to go, they prefer to see the cup as half empty, especially during these dire times.

So they use him— telling him to go on missions and retrieve items for themselves, ordering him here and there only to keep him isolated in the quarantine room right after. All this, just to make sure they're the ones who have the upper hand, they're the ones who have authority over this monster.

(y/n) is no different. She too sees the benefit of using Hyun Su to fulfill their needs and wants because after all, he's part-monster. If the other residents were to go instead, there'd be higher possibility they'd wind up killed or injured. But Hyun Su? He heals, dies less easily and has his monstrous quirks so what's the harm?

Is what (y/n) thinks as she stands in front of the isolation room with an energy bar in hand and a bottle of water filling just a quarter of it.

"...10 minutes. That's all you get," Eunhyuk says as he leans beside the door with arms crossed— looking down at (y/n) who nods at his words. His cryptic gaze flicker between her eyes before sighing and massaging his temple. "I'll be out here."

He unlocks the door and (y/n) slips right in, wanting to use the best she can get from the limited time but as soon as the door closes, her steps slow- surveying the dreary room that mimics the doleful dispositions of its members; which in this case is Hyun Su and the dour old man lying asleep on the lone couch at the far side of the room.

"Hyun Su," (y/n) starts and the said male lifts his head from his knees, shocked to see a healthy human inside this 'infected' room.

"(y/n)..." He mumbles and she feels a slight tug in her heart at the sound of his soft, seemingly withdrawn whisper. A strong urge to empty her already vacant stomach drowns her and she swallows. A sickening, bubbling feeling climbs up her throat as she stares down at his diffident form- round, doe eyes gazing up at her like a lost soul.

‘Guilty?’ Her own voice echoes but manages to pull a smile onto her face.

"I should've visited you earlier. I'm sorry," she apologizes sincerely and approaches- causing him to flinch before falling into a silent fluster. He scrambles left and right, not knowing whether he's allowed to be close to her. He's a threat, they all treat him like a virus and he can't help but admit that he might just be exactly that.

That is, until (y/n) captures his wrist before he can stand and he freezes entirely with widened eyes staring at her with horror.

"Don't—"

"Come. Let's have you eat something," (y/n) casually says and parks herself right beside him. "Here."

Hyun Su accepts the energy bar and drink on his open palms (graciously spread by (y/n)) while he stares at her curiously, almost scrutinizingly, and (y/n) would be lying if she says she isn't affected.

Those kind, gentle eyes and that unmistakably beautiful visage— she's melting. But she doesn't deserve to, he's much too good for selfish her.

"Thank you," he mumbles and that similar, painful strain occurs inside her again- but much more excruciating, disgusting, that her mien subconsciously twists and brows meet. He notices. "Are you okay?"

"What?" (y/n) croaks out and immediately purses her lips together. She can't. The guilt and loathe festering and rotting away her insides are catching up to her— devouring her whole being.

'What's the harm?? How could I ever think that? This... He's a human too,' she mourns in her head and is pulled out of it at the feeling of a warm sleeve pressing on her cheek. But the moment she looks at him, he retracts his hand and stumbles backward with his arm holding him upright on his seat- seemingly shocked at himself.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry... Sorry, I just, I— I won't... do it again," he hastily apologizes- no, pleads, for forgiveness almost, as he brings his eyes to the ground between them.

(y/n) furrows and touches her cheek- feeling the fresh tears before focusing back at his curled figure. "Why are you apologizing?"

He takes a moment to reply- taking his time staring at the cold floor before his fingers curl to a fist against it. "...You don't have to come here anymore."

"What?"

Is he... kicking her out? Forbidding her from coming here? It baffles her.

"You were forced to come here, weren't you? To... to accompany me or something, so that I'll keep doing the missions. But, you don't have to. I'll do whatever I'm told so you don't have to act nice for me. So please... don't be afraid," he requests politely- too politely for someone who thinks that he's being played with.

(y/n) shakes her head, puzzled, and sees him glancing at Eunhyuk from the corner of his eye- noticing him who's standing by the door. ‘Oh...’

"No, that's not it! I wanted to come here on my own accord. I'm not acting nice or—" 'Am I not?' Her thoughts intrude once more and her chest tightens- breaths shortening. "Listen, I actually here for my own selfish reasons. No one ordered me to and neither is it to get you on your good side or anything. Fact is, I felt guilty. "All this time, I did nothing but agree to let you go off on those dangerous missions on your own. I thought that it was better you than anybody else but that was selfish of me. None of us, even myself, we didn't even bother to stop and think how you must be feeling. How scared you may be. It's not like you chose this for yourself. We didn't even thank you for saving us. We never did because... we saw you as a tool, not as a person and I— Hyun Su, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry," (y/n)'s voice turns weaker and fainter towards the end— shattering and squeaking like a creaky door.

Maybe it's his overwhelming goodness that suffocated her when she entered the room, or the pure, earnest gaze he wears but at the moment, she felt like an entire villain. And it feel so, so revolting. It makes her wonder how Hyun Su must've felt when he discovered he was infected; to accept his fate that he is a monster.

A series of apology leaves her as her eyes brim with tears- although refusing to face him, she can feel his burning gaze on him.

Cha Hyun Su was, to be honest, conflicted. He's upset because of course, he's noticed how he's only being used by them and he also knows that he's being treated as less than human but at the same time, he's upset that he can't really do anything about it even if he wanted to because truth is, he doesn't have the heart to hurt them.

Yet despite that, he is also... glad. Glad that someone is being entirely honest with him. Relieved that there's someone he can potentially trust, someone he can confide in just like how she's confided in him. He's happy that... he too might just have someone to rely on.

Someone who's brave enough to approach him, hold him, sit right next to him, and pour their heart out to him who is a monster. And this... this means much more to him than anything.

"...Thank you," he mumbles and he's oh so grateful when she finally turns to look at him. At her confused hum, he says louder, "Thank you."

Her face of pure befuddlement that seems to scream, 'Are you crazy? I poured my heart out and admitted I saw you less as human and you say thank you???' almost makes him chuckle. Almost- so instead, he smiles.

It's enough to knock the air out of her- but in a nicer way now. Not like before how she felt squeezed and suffocated from the burdening benevolence that emanated from him and amplified her guilt- but a nice breathtaking moment that belatedly alerts her that she's been staring far too long.

"You have a nice smile," is all she says before clearing her throat and whipping her face away- a gesture Hyun Su is thankful for because a second later, she would've noticed the redness blooming on his cheeks and ears.

Before he can respond however, the door swings open and in comes a strict Eunhyuk who casts his firm stare on both of them before halting at (y/n).

"10 minutes is up," is all he says and (y/n) scrambles up, embarrassed, and hurries to Hyuk's side.

The two make their way to the door, with (y/n) walking in front and Hyun Su watches intently- feeling a tug in his heart.

"(y/n)," he suddenly calls and she stops to turn- once again feeling her insides churn and yet again, a much better, positive feeling than before when she sees his blinding eyesmile.

It's the first time she's seen it- his eyes shaped into crescents, sparkling like the stars in the night sky as his face glows despite the dust and dirt painting his skin in streaks of grey.

His pale, plump lips part to speak. "Come again... soon."

(y/n)'s heart skips a beat. He's inviting her to visit him. A personal request, a choice and that makes her feel somewhat special.

Her own smile graces her face. "I will, Hyun Su."

And the door shuts between them.

note: and that's a wrap on my first ff here on tumblr!! it's a lengthy slowburn because i wanted to show that wall between them first- i mean, they are strangers at first. but anyways, i'm thinking of making more parts to this sometime soon but until then, happy reading!! ઇ♡ଓ

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[hottpinkpenguin]

Joel Miller X Fem!Reader - Last of Us - Part 2

A/N: read part 1 here!

Warnings: hints of sexual violence (no descriptions); dark themes; post-apocalyptic dystopia; death of reader's minor child; probably a lot of non-canon details since I've never played the game; not proofread; spoilers if you haven't seen the show/played the game Word Count: 2650 Abbreviations: QZ = quarantine zone; FDRA "Fedra" = Federal Disaster Response Agency

----

“You look like hell, Joel.”

“K.”

Tessa looked Joel up and down, making a point to grimace as she did. 

“What, am I too ugly to do business with or something?” Joel’s tone was biting, his patience running thin. The restlessness in his bones was gnawing something awful today.

“Where’d your pet go?”

Joel’s stare was flat, but Tessa knew him well enough to see the slight jump in his jaw muscle as he clenched his teeth momentarily.

“My pet?”

“Yeah, that sad sack with the dead kid.” 

Joel’s knuckles turned white on the back of the chair he was leaning on. 

“What are you talk-”

“Oh come on, Joel. Don’t act like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like every other stupid fuck around here.” Tessa gestured around the dimly lit basement where she’d met Joel for the swap. They were alone, but Joel knew who she was referring to. Her crew. Good at stealing, running, and turning profits, but not amusing to her the way he was. Joel didn’t react, he just kept staring at her.

“It’s my job to know what my guys are up to,” Tessa pointed out as if she were explaining something to a young child. 

“I’m not one of your guys,” Joel countered through gritted teeth. “The only thing we need to know about each other is what I have and what you’ll pay for it.” He looked pointedly at the half-smoked pack of cigarettes, sawed off shotgun, and car battery on the table between them. 

Tessa chewed on the inside of her lip as she looked up at him. The bare lightbulb overhead cast harsh shadows on her face. 

“That wasn’t always true, though.” Her voice was softer now, a hint of playfulness in her tone. An invitation. She smirked up at him coquettishly. Joel shook his head, trying to shake out the memories that expression brought to mind. 

“That was a mistake, Tessa.” 

“A good one, though. Sometimes good mistakes are worth making a few times.” 

Joel shook his head, exhaling softly. He should have known better. Never put your prick where you put your money. 

“No, Tessa.”

“Come on, Joel. Just for old time’s sake.”

“Not gonna happen.”

Tessa’s eyes turned from flirtatious to bitter as the smile melted from her lips. 

“So she was your pet.”

Joel felt himself tense up. This was a game that he really didn’t want to play. Tessa was a dangerous woman. He’d done well to stay on her good side for so many years, but this had been a serious miscalculation. He shouldn’t have plucked at her jealousy by bringing you into the mix. 

“She wasn’t anything,” he insisted. He kept his tone even, forced himself to hold Tessa’s accusing gaze. Tessa had a good bullshit meter, but she was blind when it came to Joel. He’d used that a few times before, but this was a moment when it really mattered. He couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk you. 

A heavy tension settled between them as Tessa took a drag of her cigarette. Joel swallowed down a surge of anger at the oblique threat to your safety. 

“Fine.” Tessa stood up quickly, tamping out the end of her cigarette on the table and surveying its contents. “I’ll give you eight for the lot.” 

Joel ran a hand through his graying hair in exasperation. 

“That’s less than half of what we agreed on.”

“Yeah, it is.” Tessa knocked on the metal door behind her. It swung open, two of her lackeys swooping in to scoop up the contraband that Joel had brought her. Tessa grabbed a duffel bag from one of them, unzipping a side pocket and rifling through a dirty, wrinkled stack of meal cards. She pulled out eight pink slips and thrust them towards Joel. He knew better than to argue, and took them begrudgingly. 

“You’re screwing me on this, Tessa.” 

“And you’re screwing her.” Tessa’s voice was low. Joel didn’t miss the pain in her words. “In your dreams or in reality. Either way, you’re screwing her.” 

Joel opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. His mouth snapped close. Tessa nodded in confirmation. She zipped up the duffel bag and swung it over her shoulder as she turned to leave.

“So this is about me not picking you?” Joel couldn’t stop the question from slipping out. He could have kicked himself for the fucking stupidity. 

Tessa froze halfway up the first step of the stairwell behind the door. She half-turned back to him. On the other side of the doorframe, her entire face was cast in shadow. 

“Partially. But partially because I can’t trust you anymore.”

“How do you figure that?” Joel stuffed the eight cards into the back pocket of his jeans, sensing that their conversation was coming to an end. He didn’t want to linger any longer than he needed. 

“Because. You’re not a free agent anymore, Joel. You’ve got something to lose. Which means people can get to you. And if they can get to you, they can get to me.” 

Tessa didn’t wait for him to reply before she started up the stairs. The door behind her swung shut, leaving Joel alone with the bare lightbulb and a jolt of fear in his gut that confirmed one thing:

Tessa was right. 

*****

The frozen ground crunched under your knees as you knelt down in front of the lopsided piece of wood that marked Gabriel’s grave. He wasn’t buried there, of course; FDRA confiscated all the corpses. What they did with them from there, you couldn’t let yourself think about. But you’d buried his favorite pair of sneakers and the tattered Captain America comic book he loved so much in this spot. It had been weeks since you’d visited. 

“Hi, baby.” You patted the cold, hard soil in front of his grave marker with a trembling hand. The frigid January air had gnawed your fingertips numb.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long.” 

In the distance, a raven cawed. 

“Things have been… well, they’ve been bad since you left.”

The abandoned lot you’d buried Gabriel in was overgrown with vines. It had been a playground once. A rusted swing set lay overturned on its side a few feet from where you knelt. Behind it, a monkey bar and slide combo emerged from the weeds. Gabriel used to like to play here when he was little. Eddie would take him on the rare days he had off. 

“I miss you.” You choked on the words, feeling your resolve beginning to fracture as tears burned the corners of your eyes. You swiped them away as your nose started to run. 

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m trying to do better. I’m trying, baby.” 

Next to the wooden stake with Gabriel’s name roughly carved into it, a second stake stuck out from the ground. It was more worn and weathered after years of sun and rain. Eddie’s name was barely visible anymore. Like Gabriel, Eddie also wasn’t buried here, but this was where you chose to remember him. 

“I love you both.” Two hands on the ground this time. One in front of each of your boys. A tear slid free from your cheek and slapped onto the frosted ground between your knees. 

“I’ll visit more, I promise.” You rose from your knees, tucking your frozen hands under your armpits with a shiver.

“What are you doing out here all by yourself?”

Your body went still, icy dread shooting through your veins. You knew that voice. 

“Just paying my respects, Dirk.” 

You turned to face Dirk Reynolds, keeping your face in a mask of calm. He was the last person you wanted to run into out here so far from the rest of the QZ. 

“Sorry to hear about your boy.” Dirk sounded anything but sorry. He was walking towards you slowly, eyeing you like prey. You fought the urge to run, but the sight of the FDRA-issued semi-automatic in his hands made you think twice. 

“Thank you, that means a lot.” Actually, it meant dog shit to you, but Dirk Reynolds wasn’t a man to play with. Even Eddie had been afraid of him, and Eddie was as fearless as they came. You swallowed, suddenly feeling very aware of how alone the two of you were.

“You’re all alone now, aren’t you?” You couldn’t help but take a half step back. He was still a good fifteen paces from you, but too close for comfort. His words set your teeth on edge. 

“I like to come out here by myself. Get some peace and quiet.” You knew that wasn’t the kind of alone Dirk was getting at, but you were desperate to change the subject. His brown, bloodshot eyes raked you up one side and down the other. Despite the layers of clothing you’d piled on to try and fight off the Boston winter, his gaze made you feel woefully underdressed. 

“That ain’t what I meant, y/n.” His voice dropped an octave, practically turning into a growl. He kept moving closer to you, taking his time, his eyes never leaving you.

“I’m getting by,” you stammered back. “Mrs. Hughes and her girls are good to me. They look out for me.” You wondered if Dirk would back down knowing that there were people who might miss you if you stayed out too long. Mrs. Hughes and her daughters were good to you, but you doubted that they’d notice your absence until well past curfew. God knows what shape Dirk would have you in by then. Your throat went dry and you felt your lip start to tremble.

“You look scared, y/n. I ain’t gonna hurt you.” He was close enough that you could hear the frost-stiff ground crunch under his feet.

“I- I know.” Your reply wasn’t convincing in the least. Because you knew one thing: Dirk Reynolds would hurt you. You’d heard plenty of stories from the other women who lived near you in the QZ. 

“I look out for my friends. And I’ve got plenty of friends around here. I could treat you real good. Keep you warm, comfortable. Keep you safe.” Dirk lingered on the last word, a thinly veiled threat. 

“I’m sure. And we all appreciate everything you do for us. Truly.” 

Dirk was FDRA, but he was also something of a self-styled neighborhood mafioso. He took bribes from all the drug dealers, smugglers, and pimps in the four block radius where you lived, and in exchange Dirk turned a blind eye to their goings and comings. You remembered him from when you’d first gotten to the QZ. He’d been a fat, boastful lecher back then. The twenty years since had seen him shed the beer gut and hone a real violent streak. He wasn’t the brightest man you’d met by half, but you couldn’t make the mistake of underestimating him. You hoped your appeal to his ego would work. 

“I wouldn’t mind if you showed me some of that appreciation.” 

You fell back another half step, your hands still raised in the air like it was a stick up. The fact that he hadn’t told you to put them down told you enough about his intentions. 

“What… Dirk, I- uh, I’m not ready… For all that. Still grie-grieving.” You could barely speak, the sheer panic ringing in your ears like bells. He was close enough to reach out and touch you now. You started calculating the chances of making it if you took off in a run. That gun he held in his hands gave you pause. You’d seen what Dirk did to some of the women who’d turned down his advances. And you’d known a few women - by face only - who’d mysteriously disappeared. There were rumors, of course, that Dirk had something to do with it; but up until now, you’d been able to wave those rumors off. You had other worries to pay attention to. But now, all you could think about was getting away. You didn’t think you’d make it very far before he shot you. And despite everything you’d lost, the terror pulsing in your blood told you that you weren’t ready to die. Not yet. 

“Y/N! There you are!” A vaguely familiar voice called out to you from over Dirk’s shoulder. You kept yourself completely still as Dirk’s face darkened in irritation, grunting angrily as he spun around to face the source of the sound. 

Joel Miller was striding across the frozen carpet of vines at the northeast corner of the empty playground, waving at you like you were an old friend. Your knees almost buckled in relief at the sight. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I wish you’d told me you’d come out here to see Gabriel.” Your heart twitched at the sound of your son’s name. An idle corner of your thoughts wondered how Joel knew that’s why you were here, but that was a question for later. With Dirk distracted, you made your move. You scurried around Dirk, careful not to get close enough to let him grab you, and made a beeline for Joel. You had to consciously fight the urge to run.

“Sir, I appreciate you looking after her.” Joel’s tone was sunny and friendly. A little too obsequious, you thought, but maybe that was because you knew Joel was putting on a show for Dirk’s benefit. 

You closed the distance between you and Joel quickly, the skin on your back prickling in a frenzy to get away from Dirk. 

“Get behind me,” Joel whispered to you through gritted teeth when you were in earshot. His voice was low and urgent, but the smile he wore for show never faltered.

“Yeah, sure, no problem.” Dirk’s reply was casual, but his tone was threatening and coarse. “Pretty little thing like that shouldn’t be alone in these parts. Can’t be too careful. All kinds of things slipping through the wall these days.” You knew Dirk was referring to the infected that occasionally broke into the QZ through the maze of dilapidated buildings, subway tunnels, and sewers. For your part, you’d have gladly traded the open city to get as far away from Dirk’s leering stare as possible. 

“That’s what I tell her, once a day if it’s twelve times. Isn’t it?” Joel turned to you, obscuring his face from Dirk’s view. There was a question in his eyes: did he hurt you. You shook your head quickly, letting your eyes fall to the ground. You sidled closer to Joel’s shoulder. He noted the movement and casually shifted his weight to step squarely between you and Dirk.

“We’ll go on and head back then. Don’t want to miss curfew. Thanks for your help, again. I won’t let her out of my sight, that’s a promise.” Joel turned away from Dirk, gesturing with his eyes for you to walk towards the boarded up building at the far end of the playground. He kept himself behind you, between you and Dirk. 

“Make sure you do that,” Dirk called out after the two of you. His voice was bitter and dark.

“Keep walking. Don’t look back,” Joel urged. He hovered a hand on your lower back, his touch so light you thought you imagined it. Despite the remnants of fear crackling in your nerves, his touch sent a gentle wave of warmth up your spine. You felt the terror subside slightly. 

You let Joel lead you silently back to his apartment. The two of you never shared a word, but there was a clear understanding that you wouldn’t be going home. It wasn’t until you stepped through the familiar doorway that you let out the faintest smile at the promise Joel had made: I won’t let her out of my sight. You knew the promise had been made under duress, but you sincerely hoped he was serious.

read part 3 here! **let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

[amywritesthings]

SEEING YOU, SEEING ME (2/7)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: After handling a life-or-death favor for Tess, you're in deep shit. Until she can make things right, she suggests you lay low at her place for the week. The issue? It's also Joel Miller's place, and you're pretty sure he hates you.

Warnings: PRE-TLOU setting so no show spoilers, Mentions of death and violence, Age gap/difference, Slow burn, Angry!Joel, Eventual Smut, Enemies to Fuckers, Sexual tension

( Read on AO3 )

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter | Masterlist

CHAPTER TWO: BREAK IT TO ME GENTLY

The abrupt clang of a pan hitting the metal frame of a stove wakes you.

Out of your dead and delayed sleep you jolt, panicked and ready to run at a second's notice. Your chin whips around to find the source of the noise, accustomed to loud meaning bad, but you are met with the opposite:

In the open-wall divide of the apartment, Joel Miller stands only a few feet away. Dressed in the same clothes as yesterday, he sports a tattered olive rag draped over his shoulder. He busies himself with the black, worn pan in his left hand, only glancing under his brow with mild interest when the mattress creaks in the scattered fright.

“Thought maybe you died,” he greets with something that sounds almost like a hollow joke. His wrist turns, sifting the contents in the sizzling pan below.

You open your mouth to argue, but the aroma of food — fresh, real food — dissolves the thought into thin air.

He follows the trail of your eyes to the pan and speaks plainly.

“Had an extra egg in the fridge.”

Eggs.

The scent is scrambled eggs.

Your eyes round with interest. “You have eggs here?”

“Not anymore,” he says, lifting a spatula to push the food from the pan and onto a nearby plate. “Have to go grab more.”

Your stomach growls with need.

It would be rude to ask — right?

Except he doesn't give you a chance to: Joel leaves the stove with a plate in hand, half-full by a rationed scrambled egg. Without a word he sets it down at the dining table, cleared off from the night before.

At first, you don't move from the edge of the mattress. Bouncing your attention between him and the steaming plate of food, you wait for verbal confirmation.

Permission.

"Are you gonna eat it, or are you gonna waste it?" he absently asks over his shoulder when he returns to the stove, shoveling out a second egg to another plate.

You hesitate, stuck between calling a bluff and accepting what’s happening right in front of you: a gesture of kindness, even if it may not be his idea.

You slide off the bed to meet him in the tiny kitchenette, sitting awkwardly at the table once littered with drugs and alcohol.

“Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me yet. They're not good."

"Oh." You pluck a tiny piece with your fork, surveying the fluff of yellow. "I wasn't much of a cook either, before this."

Lifting the fork to your mouth, you taste test with a tiny piece.

It’s good.

Maybe not gourmet, but it’s good enough.

Melting at the taste of something rare yet familiar, you hum in appreciation and dig in for more.

“Christ, I haven’t had eggs in forever. They’re so fucking expensive at the mart.”

Once Joel picks up his own plate from the kitchen counter, the apartment is alive with the sounds of forks scraping at ceramic. It’s supplemented with a soundtrack by the outdoor hustle and bustle of the Fedra soldiers and the citizens of the quarantine zone.

It feels peaceful.

(It feels normal, in the irony of it all.)

Neither of you speak, too worried about making the food last, until he chirps up. Finished first.

“So are you gonna disclose what it is exactly that you did for Tess?”

Joel turns to discard his plate into the nearby sink, only to lean back against the counter. His arms cross over his broad chest, expectant. 

"I think I deserve to know what it is I'm housing you for," he adds.

You look up from your fork, catching his eye.

“I don’t think she’d like that.”

"No?"

"No."

“Well she ain’t exactly the one here playing babysitter,” Joel counters, gliding the tattered rag off of his shoulder and down his chest to drop it into the sink.

You roll your eyes, stabbing at the last remaining piece of egg on your plate.

“I mean…  I wouldn’t call this babysitting, Miller. I am a grown adult.”

His brows furrow, but he doesn’t argue.

Instead he asks a question that catches you both off guard:

“You know my last name?”

You pause, hovering the fork near your mouth as you formulate a response.

Is that supposed to be a surprise?

(As if it's a crime to call him as anything but a stranger.)

“Everyone in the zone knows you,” you reply with apprehension. “It's not exactly a secret who people go to if they want shit done around here.” Then there’s the obvious in the room, though it’s closer to a church mouse than an elephant in size. “And besides, we… have worked together a lot, so I've heard it once or twice.”

Or twenty, give or take a shift.

He stares, hard, before clenching his jaw. 

“Yeah, I know we have. Just didn’t think you knew my name, s’all.”

Wait.

You blink.

“You mean you—”

Both of you still into silence as you cut off your question, eye to eye.

"You mean I... what?" Joel begins, suspicious.

You're going to sound like an idiot.

Eyes closed, you inhale a bit of strength before taking one last bite of what’s left of the egg on your plate.

"You know me?" you ask.

"Know you?" he repeats, and you nod. "Seriously?"

You nod again. Joel lets out a huff, adjacent to a humorless laugh.

“I know your face, sure. If I recall right, then you’ve been on a few of them jobs.”

“Oh.”

His brows knit as he re-adjusts his stance against the counter.

“Why? S'that surprising to you?”

“Very,” you admit under your breath. “I didn’t think you watched what I did or saw me at all."

He runs a hand over his face, scratching at the salt and pepper scruff lining his jaw.

“No, I didn't watch you, but I saw you,” he replies, matter of fact. “Probably the only one I get stuck with who actually puts some back into their shit."

The slight praise blossoms something warm in your belly, full from a cooked meal.

"Except," he starts with an uptick in his voice, "I didn’t peg you as the type to run around with Tess.”

You try not to smile, but it’s too late. "No?"

"Not in the slightest."

"I don't think a lot of people can peg me as any type of thing, 'cus none of these people really know me," you admit a little too honestly. "Not really in the market to be known."

(Kind of like you, you want to say.)

Joel nods at nothing in particular, contemplating with his attention to the floor. Abruptly he clears his throat and hikes a thumb back to the weather-worn refrigerator in the corner.

"I need to grab some extra food, then, if this is gonna be a couple of days."

Something flutters in your stomach; not as pretty as a butterfly, but something less twisted than a bee. Any conversation that isn't a fight is an improvement.

Maybe you misjudged the situation.

Maybe Joel just doesn't want to be known, same as you.

You shift in your seat to shuffle through the back pocket of your jeans. “I have ration papers if you need more to cover the cost.” 

The corner of Joel’s upper lip scowls as he shakes his head. He pushes off the counter to walk towards the table where you sit.

“Keep ‘em – I got plenty.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” He tugs the jacket off of the back of the unoccupied chair, flicking out the collar once it’s finally on his torso. “You put that in the sink, then, when you’re finished? I’ll get around to ‘em when I come back.”

“I can clean both sets of dishes, Miller,” you argue as he passes by you to reach the door of the apartment. “It’s the least I can do while I'm stuck here.”

Hand on the doorknob, Joel turns his chin to study you one last time.

"Right."

His lips purse like he wants to say something, as if it’s tickling the tip of his tongue, but ultimately decides against it. Instead he settles with a huff through his nose; a sound of resignation. 

“Just don’t touch anything else.”

Author's Note: We've gotten the intro out of the way. Next chapter is when things start to get juicy, I promise. The response to this fic has been wonderful and the google doc is nearly 10K, so you KNOW we're in it now. As always, comments & reblogs are adored. Thank you for reading!

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

By Dr. Chinta Sidharthan

Unvaccinated volunteers who contracted COVID-19 in a human challenge study showed significant memory and executive function decline lasting up to a year, despite no reported subjective symptoms, prompting new questions about the virus’s long-term cognitive effects.

In a recent study published in the journal EClinicalMedicine, a team of researchers from the United Kingdom examined the cognitive deficits associated with severe acute respiratory syndrome coronavirus 2 (SARS-CoV-2) infections. They conducted the first human challenge study among a prospectively controlled group of unvaccinated SARS-CoV-2 naive volunteers, who were inoculated with the wild-type strain and observed for long-term cognitive problems.

Background Substantial research now indicates that long-lasting cognitive deficits impacting memory, comprehension, and concentration occur even after mild coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) cases. A large proportion of individuals who recover from COVID-19 continue to experience “brain fog,” memory lapses, and difficulty forming words for months after the initial acute infection.

Cross-sectional and longitudinal studies have observed cognitive decline in patients one year after the infection, and brain scans have detected shrinkage in areas of the brain related to cognition and memory. Furthermore, blood tests in patients hospitalized due to SARS-CoV-2 infections have detected elevated levels of brain injury markers, such as neurofilament light (NfL) and glial fibrillary acidic protein (GFAP), indicative of potential future cognitive problems, though markers like Tau were not significantly different between infected and uninfected groups.

However, the retrospective nature of these studies has posed difficulties in accounting for the role of occupations, pre-existing health conditions, and social factors in the risk of cognitive deficits after COVID-19. Furthermore, the pace at which cognitive deficits develop after mild SARS-CoV-2 infections and the duration of these deficits remains unclear.

About the study In the present study, the researchers challenged a group of unvaccinated, SARS-CoV-2 naive volunteers with the wild-type strain of the virus in controlled conditions. The volunteers were then quarantined and followed up to determine the long-term cognitive impacts of COVID-19.

The researchers ensured that all the ethical guidelines were followed in this human challenge study, and written consent was obtained from all the volunteers, who were also compensated for the time spent in quarantine.

The study enrolled 36 healthy adults between 18 and 30 years who had never been vaccinated against or infected with SARS-CoV-2. Of these, 18 participants were classified as infected, while 16 were uninfected. The volunteers underwent extensive tests and screening, including blood tests, chest radiography, body mass index, and assessments for COVID-19 risk factors.

The participants were then intranasally inoculated with SARS-CoV-2 and quarantined for at least two weeks. The follow-ups occurred at non-regular intervals for up to a year after the inoculation.

The viral loads in all the infected participants were monitored twice a day through naso- and oropharyngeal swabs. Additionally, the researchers administered a subjective symptom survey thrice daily to track the symptoms. The participants were categorized based on whether they experienced a sustained viral infection, and six were administered remdesivir as a precaution.

The researchers measured the participants' cognitive performance through 11 computer-based tasks that measured various cognitive domains, such as reaction time, memory, spatial reasoning, and planning. The participants were required to perform these tasks at baseline, on each day of the quarantine, and at each of the five follow-ups. The primary cognitive measure was the baseline-corrected global cognitive composite score or bcGCCS.

Additionally, the researchers also analyzed the levels of brain injury markers, such as neurofilament light (NfL) and glial fibrillary acidic protein (GFAP), in the blood samples obtained from the participants.

Results The study found that bcGCCS scores indicated that the infected individuals exhibited significant cognitive deficits compared to the uninfected individuals. These deficits were sustained for almost a year, with no recovery or improvements noted. Despite these objective cognitive deficits, none of the infected volunteers reported subjective cognitive symptoms.

The cognitive area that showed the largest deficit was memory-related tasks, such as those measuring immediate and delayed memory recall. The infected individuals performed worse than the uninfected ones on memory-related and executive planning tasks.

The cognitive tasks were grouped based on whether learning effects were observed across sessions, and the results indicated that the cognitive differences between the uninfected and infected individuals were robust even after accounting for learning effects.

Furthermore, some brain injury biomarkers in the serum, such as GFAP, were higher in the infected participants than in the uninfected ones, but other markers, such as Tau and NfL, were not significantly different between the two groups.

Although these findings indicated that SARS-CoV-2 infections resulted in measurable differences in various aspects of cognitive decline, especially in the areas of memory and executive function, the statistical tests revealed no significant correlation between cognitive deficits and viral load, brain markers, and symptom severity.

Conclusions The study indicated that while objective and measurable changes could be observed in various aspects of cognitive performance due to SARS-CoV-2 infections, further research is essential to understand the biological mechanisms behind these cognitive deficits. The researchers believe that more long-term studies on larger cohorts are required to understand the long-term impact of COVID-19. Importantly, the study results suggest that these cognitive changes might persist even in the absence of subjective symptoms, highlighting the need for more sensitive assessment tools.

Journal reference: Trender, W., Hellyer, P. J., Killingley, B., Kalinova, M., Mann, A. J., Catchpole, A. P., Menon, D., Needham, E., Thwaites, R., Chiu, C., Scott, G., & Hampshire, A. (2024). Changes in memory and cognition during the SARS-CoV-2 human challenge study. EClinicalMedicine, 76. DOI:10.1016/j.eclinm.2024.102842, www.thelancet.com/journals/eclinm/article/PIIS2589-5370(24)00421-8/fulltext

[melishade]

Attack on Prime New Age Anthology: Eren Jaeger

Main Story

Return to that Sick Mind III

Return to that Sick Mind IV

Reminiscing

The Survey Corps finally talk about Eren Jaeger.

"One, two, three, four, five, six." Miko counted as she started doing push ups on the floor.

"Work out regiment?" Onyankopon asked.

"Well I have to stay in shape somehow," Miko spoke in a strained voice, "Being cooped up in this box sucks."

"Don't you where an invincible suit of armor?" Sasha recalled.

"Yeah, but doesn't mean jack shit when I'm trying to detain people," Miko retorted, "Majority of the time we have to capture enemies of the state alive for interrogation. Sometimes we do kill them, but we use guns."

Miko grunted and she started to do push ups with one hand. "Apex Armor's for like...emergency uses only. Like stopping an atomic bomb from going off or fighting against rogue Decepticons."

"I'd join you in your workout regiment, but I am a little busy," Hanji commented as they used their fork to stab a hollow spot in the floor boards.

"Yeah, tearing up your quarantine space," Rafael remarked, watching a class lecture online from his bed.

"Hey, my space. I can do what I want," Hanji proclaimed.

"News flash: it's the U.S. governments space. You will get in trouble," Rafael retorted.

"Well I was kidnapped, so-!" Hanji blew a raspberry at Rafael before going back to wiggling their fork into the floor boards.

"Mature!" Rafael shouted at them.

"Anyone else want to join me?" Miko asked as she stopped doing push ups and pushed her legs off the ground to do a handstand.

"I'm...not really that athletic," Willy answered.

"Hm." Miko looked him up and down. "I can see that, silver spoon."

"Excuse me?" Willy was confused at the idiom.

"Anyone else?!" Miko offered to the rest of them.

"Well, I can't really see you," Historia declared.

"Anyone across from me want to mirror me so Historia can see?" Miko asked.

"I can try," Sasha offered.

Jack ignored Miko's invite, staring at his phone, specifically the text messages from Ultra Magnus, telling Jack to ask about Eren. He didn't want to. He really didn't want to. He heard them say that they weren't even ready to talk about it, and the last thing that he wanted to do was push, but the video. The video has been bothering him since Ultra Magnus sent it. And Jack had an urge to know the truth. But what would learning entail? Would they get mad at him? Would they feel betrayed? Would they?

"You've been staring at that thing a lot lately," Armin remarked, causing Jack to look at him.

"Uh...yeah...I was just looking at texts," Jack explained, trying to not elaborate further.

"Oh really? Who's texting you?" Miko asked, causing Jack to internally swear.

Jack looked back at his phone. "I've been texting the Autobots and-!"

"What?!" Hanji's forked snapped into two at Jack's explanation, "Damn it!"

"You've been in contact with the Autobots since you got your phone back?" Armin asked, "Did they tell you anything about Optimus or Megatron?"

"What about Arcee?!" Sasha demanded, "Is she okay?!"

"Arcee's recovering. Wheeljack is pretty much done. Optimus and Megatron are...stable. I haven't been given too much about them. I think they don't want us to get our hopes up just yet," Jack explained.

"Jack, why didn't you tell us?" Rafael asked as he grabbed his water cup and took a sip.

Jack took a deep breath and sighed. "The Bots have been wanting to know more about your guys' world and about Megatron...they looked into his mind."

"WHAT?!" Miko screeched as she lost her balance on her hand stand and banged her ankle on the cabinet drawer while Rafael spat out his water.

"Oh fuck me!" Miko grabbed her ankle in pain.

"Who looked into his head?!" Rafael shot up.

"Bee," Jack reluctantly replied.

"WHAT?!" Rafael screamed even louder, "Why the hell would Bumblebee look into his mind again?! Megatron literally hijacked his body!"

"You think I know the answer to that?!" Jack yelled at Rafael.

"Can someone explain how the hell titans are able to look into each other's minds?!" Kenshin demanded.

"The cortical psychic patch," Jack explained, "It's a device created by Megatron's manic scientist Shockwave. You can use it to peer into the minds of anyone on the other end of the device and see their memories, and they can't make any alterations to the memories. But if you don't disconnect the device properly, it can fry your brain, or in Bumblebee's case, trap one of the users into the other's mind. It's how Megatron took over his body in the first place."

"...Can I see the device?" Hanji raised their hand.

"WHOA!" Miko screamed at them.

"What is wrong with you?!" Rafael yelled.

"Hanji!" Onyankopon scolded them.

"Fine! Such a touchy subject!" Hanji grumbled.

"If the memories seen can't be altered, then the Autobots should now know we're telling the truth," Armin surmised, "So what? Are they still going to ask us about him?"

Jack sighed in defeat. "They don't want to know about Megatron changing. They want to know about Eren."

Armin, Hanji, Sasha, and Historia grew tense at that.

"Magnus needs to compile a full report and need as much information on him as possible," Jack explained, "Apparently, Megatron says his feelings to Eren are negative-!"

"Yes, Megatron hates Eren's guts and is jealous of him. It's no secret," Hanji rambled.

"Ha?" Miko questioned.

"He sent me this." Jack pressed the play button on the recording from Megatron's mind and pressed it up against the glass. Everyone in the area either heard the audio of Optimus speaking, or also saw the visuals that came with the audio.

"...Optimus tried to convince Eren to stop before he started the Rumbling?" Willy was taken aback by the audio that played.

"Optimus always chooses peace first." Jack pulled the phone back and locked the phone, "But...if you guys don't want to provide an explanation, I can tell Magnus and try to push it off."

"...It does sound like he could approach us later on the topic," Historia assumed.

"Probably." Jack shrugged his shoulders. "Seriously, I can push it off-!"

"Let's just get it out of the way," Armin relented, sitting in the space where the glass and the wall met.

Jack felt guilty, decided to sit down on the bed and rub his knees. "Anyone here that doesn't know much about Eren?"

"I didn't really talk to Eren that much," Onyankopon confessed, "Although Yelena wanted to in order to try and get Eren to agree to Zeke's plan."

"Me and Gabi have known him as an enemy," Colt explained.

"I...vilified him too," Willy reluctantly admitted.

"I only had interactions with Eren twice," Kenshin confessed, "The first time I was really just trying to mess with him because I noticed the way he was getting angry every time I talked to Mikasa. Second time, he had come to Hizuru with Wheeljack, and my dad asked him to come with me on a horse ride to the next town over. We had a interesting conversation about religion and god...I noticed how...easily agitated he got when we talked. How he succumbed to his anger whenever talking about something he hated or seeing someone he didn't liked...Maybe I should have said something when I was sending letters to Optimus..."

"...Eren used to be quite passionate about killing all of the titans and freeing humanity when we were training together," Historia explained, "He hated them with a passion. But...when we learned about the truth about humanity, it really messed with him. The passion and fire he had in his eyes began to dim....There was a situation with the power of the titans. Eren had the powers of the Founding Titan, but couldn't use it because he wasn't of royal blood. I have royal blood, but if I were to take the Founding Titan, I would have been a prisoner of the vow renouncing war. But I could still make contact with Eren and activate some memories...Eren came to me one night...afraid...he said he was seeing things and wanted to touch my hand in order to activate the power. When he did, he just...shut down completely...and left...I don't think he was the same after that. And I blame myself for it."

"...We used to call him a 'suicidal maniac'." Sasha chuckled sadly at the memory, "Cause he would always try to get himself killed when trying to do dangerous things. Maybe when we thought humanity was extinct, it could have been considered honorable or just straight up reckless. But...he went off on his own on a foreign continent, planned an attack against world leaders without talking to us first...he attacked us...and told Mikasa he hated her. And he..."

Sasha quickly wiped her tears. "Why the hell would he kill Connie? They were close, and Connie only had us left. His whole village was turned into titans. We were his family, and Eren just killed him. I don't understand."

"...I wish I could have understood too." Hanji confessed, their efforts to pry the floorboard open long forgotten, "I used to do experiments with Eren to help him figure out his titan powers. I have a bombastic personality though, and I can push on things if I'm really passionate about it. Optimus usually had to keep me in check and get me to respect Eren's boundaries. Eren...used to be a good kid. He was passionate about joining the Survey Corps. He still wanted to do the experiments with me to find out about his powers. I thought he trusted me....I thought he trusted Optimus. Optimus seemed to be the only one who could really reign him in. Eren used to hate him, and one day he suddenly begged Optimus to start teaching him how to fight. Hell, Optimus apparently told us that Eren called him 'Dad' one time."

Hanji chuckled in defeat. "But what do I know? I mean, Eren activated the Rumbling. He took out my eye and stabbed Optimus and broke his mask. Some 'mad scientist' I am. Right?"

Jack turned his attention to Armin, and he saw him curl up into a ball and turn his head away from the glass. "I think...I can send this over to Magnus to get him to leave you guys alone for the time-!"

"Eren was my first friend," Armin confessed, "I used to get picked on a lot when I was younger for being weak, but I always refused to run from those fights. Eren actually spotted me one day and asked me why I didn't fight. And I basically told him I didn't run away. That facing the danger was my way of fighting. He asked me my name, and later he brought me to his home to eat food there. He later took me home with his dad and we just became friends after that."

"If you don't mind me asking, how does Mikasa play into this?" Rafael asked, "She's close to Eren too, right?"

"I don't think that's a good thing to-!"

"When Mikasa was nine, her parents were murdered right in front of her, and she was going to be sold into sexual slavery," Armin cut Hanji off. Everyone except the Survey Corps grew mortified at this information, "Eren managed to go after her and kill two of the kidnappers, while Mikasa found the will to kill the third one. Grisha and Eren brought her home and made her part of the family."

"...dude," Miko could only muster.

"So...why was Eren angry all the time?" Rafael asked again, wanting to change the topic.

"It wasn't always like that. When we were younger, Eren was pretty apathetic as a kid. He didn't really have any dreams or goals he wanted to obtain...that wasn't until I showed him about the outside world. Learning about the outside world was forbidden in the walls, but my grandpa had a book on it and I wanted to show Eren. I was excited to show Eren, and it was the first time I've really seen excitement on Eren's face."

Armin smiled a little at the memory. "We wanted to go see the outside world, and Eren wanted so badly to join the Survey Corps to do it. He wanted to fight all the titans and not live the rest of his life behind those walls. But...revenge later became apart of it. When...when the Warriors attacked Shinganshina, Eren's mom was eaten by a titan right in front of him, and he wanted nothing more than to eradicate the titans from the world."

"We joined the Trainee Corps when we were twelve. We were orphans at that age and military training was the only real option for us to take. We trained together, made new allies and friends, but when the Warriors attacked again, and I almost got eaten by a titan, Eren jumped in and saved my life, getting eaten right before my eyes. I don't really know how Eren awakened his powers. Maybe because he got injured before he was eaten. I don't know. Optimus had grabbed me in that moment and taken me away from the danger in my hysteria. But even though, Optimus and Eren worked together to stop the titan invasion. Optimus was one of the first people to show any real compassion to him when everyone was scared of him for his powers. He treated him with kindness and civility. I think Eren looked up to Optimus because he didn't have any other parental guidance. Optimus listened to him and made him feel heard."

Armin didn't know why he was rambling. He didn't know why he was talking too much, but he just wanted to get all of this off of his chest. Get rid of it and not talk about it ever again. "But...there were so many things that I missed...or chose not to notice. When we overthrew the government. Eren wanted to take his own life and I didn't notice. But it was Megatron of all people that did. He noticed and stopped Eren from taking his life. And then my best friend who I wanted to see the world with was going to die in eight years because of the titan curse. And there was nothing that I could do about it. And the outside world we dreamed of never existed, and it was full of other people that wanted us gone."

Armin laughed bitterly. "But I wanted peace. Optimus wanted peace. We all wanted peace. But..." Armin remembered those words that were told to him. Told to him in the Paths by him. "Eren didn't believe that peace was possible. I think with his powers, he saw futures that were coming into fruition, and conflict kept happening over and over again...I don't think Eren saw a point in making peace anymore, and just wanted to act selfishly to try and see the world I showed him in that book all those years ago.”

Armin started to cry. "And I...refused to notice or even do anything about it. I kept giving Eren the benefit of the doubt. So much so that, once again, Megatron was warning us that Eren was dangerous and needed to be dealt with. Megatron went out of his way to save us and warn us and I didn't listen because I didn't want to believe that my best friend was capable of such cruel and horrible things. And I hate him! I hate that he tried to destroy everything out of selfishness! That he told Mikasa he hated her! That he killed millions of people and Connie! But some part of me still cares about him and I hate that it does! But all I feel is hatred for him! Isn't that so hypocritical of me?! That I want Megatron to live, knowing what he's done and how it's so much worse than Eren, but hate my own best friend for following the exact same thing that Megatron did?!"

Armin froze when he saw everyone staring at him in shock. Armin finally noticed the tears streaming down his face and rubbed them away.

"Tell Ultra Magnus, that I don't want to talk about Eren anymore." Armin stood up, "Never again."

Armin walked over to the bathroom and shut the door behind him, leaving everyone to sit in the uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah, let's make it a rule to not speak about Eren anymore, especially since the wounds are still fresh." Hanji pointed to the bandages around their eye.

"Yep." Rafael said.

"Totally." Miko agreed.

"...Got it." Jack relented. He stared at his phone and type one final text before throwing it aside.

I should have never asked about him.

[sasster]

Walking on Glass

And I do solemnly swear that this is the last set of new trolls I make for a long while.

So what’s the Colmea guy’s deal, anyway? [doc]

-- “Now you’ve really done it.” The child, and she can’t be more than five sweeps old, smiles around a juicebox from her perch. “He’s not going to be happy about this one little bit.” Her warning fills you with just enough dread that it roots you in place.

The he in question is, for the short time that you’ve known each other, very particular of the fungal colonies that throng throughout the lab like a great big web. Some of them in larger terrariums cobbled together and the others in their much smaller quarantines. He was more protective of these small quarantined batches than he was of anything else, even the aquarium that sits nearly ceiling to floor and across the back wall of the lab, housing a handful of species of jellyfish, with the largest, and need for such ample volume, being his overgrown lusus. Nemopilema nomurai, he once whispered into your ear when he caught you staring at her.

She is quite the daunting thing, with what must be a ten or fifteen-foot diameter and countless feet of long sprawling tentacles, tendrils, and tangles of some sort of marine fungus weaving around and within them. He never offered a scientific name or approximate for it, and to be fair, you never asked.

Conversations with the man always centered around his research, his precious colonies, that you’d been helping him with. The science he always mumbled, mostly to himself, was difficult to parse on a good day, on a bad day he stopped pretending to try altogether.

Your role, as far as he was concerned, as far as you understood, was only a very small part.

A collective consciousness. The only colony that survived the interaction with your mutation to the point that you started to become one. Once again, the science of it all was lost on you, something about parasitic symbiosis or some other, but the piece of it he’d gotten into you somehow took root and you’d found yourself actually talking to it.

Making decisions with it.

It was only natural you’d want to get a closer and better look at it, right? 

“It was a mistake.” Is all you can manage, staring at the ground that almost glitters with the way the ambient lights of the tanks shine off of the glass of one of the smaller, now shattered, terrariums that litters the floor. Many of the stray shards lance through the colony in places that look fatal even to the untrained eye.

“It was a mistake.” She mimics, not quite getting the cadence right, but the road work is there, so there’s maybe a future in ventriloquism for the kid. “I think he’s gonna feed you to Big Mama.” She indicates the tank with the massive jellyfish in it, punctuating the thought with the insufferable sound a straw makes when it reaches the end of a drink.

Colmea couldn’t be that unreasonable, could he?

As if summoned, and you don’t think she sent for him, the door opens as soon as the fear creeps up on you.

There is a severe way that the doctor has about carrying himself, a stern expression attached to whatever it is he lets his gaze fall on. Right now that is solidly on you. The gravity of the situation and the weight of the girl’s words leave you incapable of removing yourself from the scene of the crime, after all. You’d only reached a harmless hand in to touch it, how could you predict this outcome?

“It was a mistake.” You whisper desperately as he fully enters the room, the picture of serenity, taking in the scene before him. He does not regard you or what you’ve had to say for yourself.

Even if the colony was not sliced through as it was, the abrupt displacement from its aquatic habitat would have done enough on its own to paint a grim scene, splattered across the floor like an abstract painting. He surveys the damage quietly, a ponderous god, visage poisoned by the blue and pink glow of the lights within neighboring tanks. Now his gaze flits about from shard of glass to shard of glass, as though looking for answers in the mosaic they make up on the floor.

Everything in the lab has become remarkably still, even the girl in the corner has ceased vacuuming the bottom of the juice box in favor of savoring the silence that smothers the room, deafening even over the bubbling of the surrounding tanks.

Colmea does not rush in, ready to collapse to the floor and mourn the loss of his experiment, instead he is carried further into the room by slow and deliberate steps, each one a soft tap against linoleum that crushes the glass beneath it. The answers to questions that he does not bother voicing slotting into his mind as he advances, and if those answers change any part of his expression, which you suspect it doesn’t, it goes unnoticed when his contemplative steps take him into the shadow of his colossal lusus.

Far too long passes before he is standing directly in front of you. Very briefly, a crack in his veneer provides a view into the ever-feared high blood rage bubbling beneath the surface.

“Myriad,” he addresses the girl, still up on her perch by the edge of the jellyfish enclosure. “The colony?”

Myriad makes a face like she is seriously concentrating, an expression you’ve come to understand means she is reaching into her mind to find her natural connection to the fungal colonies that surround her. Not as a member of the collective, but as an eavesdropper. Her game goes on for too long and it is clear that she is only playing up the dramatics, reveling in your dread, when the pensive god clears his throat.

“Dead as a doornail!” She reports, cheery as she was when she delivered her taunts moments before his arrival. It should hurt, but you already knew. You felt it, a part of you, die the second the tank hit the floor. “No survivors, wiped out!”

The ghost of something horrific crosses behind his eyes.

He nods.

His demeanor does not betray him and there is no warning when he strikes, just the stinging feeling left behind by a backhand that causes you to lose your balance. With a hideous crunch, your knees fall into the ruin below, the salty remnants from the enclosure mingles with the fresh wounds and sends a significant shock through your system. So significant in fact, that you make neither a move nor a sound. 

Colmea shakes his hand loose, the anger that boils just beneath but never quite breaking the surface places a dangerous dose of malice behind his eyes.

“Myriad, find me a broom.” He commands, and as soon as it leaves his mouth, her feet hit the ground right behind you with a crunch that makes you wince. A stifled giggle followed by her plodding along tells you it was an intentional assault on her part.

His hand is wrapped up in your hair before the door closes behind her and he lifts you up to meet his eye line, all the while winding more and more of it up until he finds scalp, as though he is handling something that weighs about the same as a stuffed animal. 

There is no growling, no deep orange eyes signaling danger, just a furrowed brow and a deep sigh. “I had such high hopes for you.”

“I,” you start to plead your case, tears welling at the corners of your eyes at the realization that your mutation did not make you special enough, but he does not give you the opportunity to continue. Instead, your face is acquainted with the glass of the aquarium with such force that it rattles the base of the enclosure and causes some of the smaller species of jellies inside to send off bright sparks of light, in hopes of startling whatever predator they assume has invaded.

All they really succeed in is disorienting you all the more, your face making contact a second and third time before stars start to decorate your vision and the edges begin to blur. Something cracks, and it is not the glass.

Still, the angered god does not growl or snarl. Nor does his reflection, warped by a myriad of things between the forming concussion and the glass of the aquarium, broadcast anything beyond his mild indifference.

Your face hits the glass a few more times before the girl returns from her quest and he finally relents, dropping you to the floor with a sigh. In the same moment, the stars in your vision become angry black splotches, eagerly rushing out to meet those blurred edges.

[gotta-pet-em-all]

[Audio begins. There are a few moments of silence, before Fluff says, “Am I interrupting something?”

“No, not really. Oh, are those pokepuffs?”

“Mm. I figured I’d bring some over for you, here.”

“What, ‘cause you’re afraid you’ll get rejected if you don’t bring food to people?” Rei asks wryly. 

“….do you want them or not. Also, fuck off, having social anxiety sucks.” Fluff definitely doesn’t sound happy about being read for filth like that. 

“Ah, sorry. My social skills have, uh. Declined.” Rei doesn’t sound especially sorry. “You’re here to ask me about Hisui, right? Are you the short blonde’s lab partner?”

“Something like that.” She doesn’t elaborate. “More about the people who came with you from Hisui.”

“Well, the other guy took a train home. I don’t know a lot about the Miss Fortune sisters; they’re a sort of found family. They… despite being from Hisui, they weren’t as suited for it as me.”

“You enjoyed being in Hisui? Why?”

“It was thrilling,” Rei says quietly. “I had a divine patron who wanted me to do research. They’d been… well, Giratina’s banishment meant Arceus was separated from the world for a long time as well. And they wanted to understand how the land was faring. So I surveyed for them. We learned about Hisui together. I never got hurt too bad; if I lost enough blood to get worried, there would be this golden light and I’d wake up in the infirmary.”

“You weren’t worried about going home?”

“I’m seventeen, you know,” Rei says wryly. “Without going into too much detail, I had a mental health scare as a kid. Bipolar, and bad. It took a while for my parents to let me go on my journey, and when I did, I felt… alienated, like the world was too small. But Hisui? It was amazing. It was a dream. I wanted to stay and help these people. Until I didn’t.”

“So, about Volo… you guys don’t get along?”

“That’s personal,” Rei says bluntly.

Fluff gives a small cough. “They broke out of quarantine rather than stay with you.”

“...we have history.”

There is a brief mental calculation of ages and likelihood of romance. “So, you guys weren’t— or, rather, you didn’t have any—”

“There was absolutely no situationship or unrequited romantic feelings going on.” Rei sighs. “Frankly, I… don’t know how to explain it. But they’ve been nothing but polite and accommodating here, so I don’t think it’s right for me to go spreading rumors that don’t matter anymore. Why do you want to know so bad, anyways?”

“I visited them, and just…” Her voice sounds a little choked up. “I was uh. Quite literally raised under a rock. Like, very deficient in vitamin D. So I had a lot of trouble adjusting to the real world. I guess I can relate?”

“Wait, what.”

“What part needs clarification here.”

“The— raised under a rock???”

“Underground cult, but I try not to tell people that when I’ve first met them because I’m trying to break the traumadumping habit, actually.” She sniffles. “Fuck, I’m going to have to wash my hoodie. Point is. Uh. Ah, where was I even going with this. Is it really that weird that I want to help? I want to believe the best in them.”

“The Miss Fortunes frequently tried to mug me, you know.”

“Yeah, you’re not special,” she mutters under her breath. Then, louder, “Sometimes people trapped in a bad place do fucked up shit to survive. Don’t they deserve redemption too?”

“Maybe. I just don’t have any interest in it. I’m not going to stop you, but I’m not going to help. I’ve done my part, and frankly, I’m a little sick of getting betrayed.” His voice is tight. “Volo likes places with history and places with shade and running water. Check the ruins and the little meadow north of the gnarled oak tree. And don’t ask me about them again. However much of their friendship was real, it’s over now. All of it.”

Recording ends.]

[heyalma89]

This whole Watcher thing is upsetting for many. I have been watching Shane and Ryan for YEARS like many of you. I loved their banter with the black screen and their dialogue being in different colors. I was like "Hey these guys are funny!" I was definitely hooked. I agree with many of you that's what WE want is just simple. I also get it as a creative person you have to "get that bag" as the young kids say but you don't do that by screwing over your fans. You mentioned in the video there were shows that weren't working so why not stop producing them? Simple that saves you money!!! You work on promoting that Patreon. I'm not saying fire people because people need their livelihood but before you started hiring SO many people you should've reflected on what was possible team size wise. I've seen so many people being rude like "you guys aren't fans it's just $6" you don't know what goes on in other people's lives. I'm glad that YOU can afford $6 but to someone else that might be buying an essential item or money towards a meal. Also have we learned nothing from other streaming services? Everything starts at one price but eventually goes up especially if they're trying for bigger and bigger production value. How are they doing these tours in Glasgow or Scotland if they alienated those same fans because they're streaming services apparently aren't available internationally (at least not yet). I genuinely miss "Are You Scared?" And when Shane had to guess if the story was true or not and they did plenty of that in quarantine. No fancy sets just simple storytelling. I'm happy for them and I hope things go well because I don't like wishing ill on people because I do believe in karma but I do feel disappointed by them. Yes some of you have they said "They don't owe you anything you're all being babies!" While yes the content was free people went to shows, bought the merch, and watched them for YEARS. It is about consideration of the people that have followed you for years. They should've done a survey or just be plain honest "Hey guys we didn't budget correctly and we need to do this to afford etc..." people are going to appreciate/respect the hustle more if you're honest or were like hey we messed up. It isn't so much that they "owe" us anything it just feels like they betrayed a lot of their fans and it manifests especially the ending to that video of "if you can't afford it then goodbye" why is art only for the the rich or those who can afford it? Someone on here said "entertainment isn't free" so people shouldn't be able to enjoy fun things or be exposed to fun experiences because that's only for the wealthy? What an elitist attitude trust me the rich don't care about you or I and you saying that won't make them like you more. I hope everything goes well for Ryan, Shane, and Steven because they have worked hard but I will not be joining them.

[stitching-in-time]

Voyager rewatch s5 ep17: Course: Oblivion

Ah, the goo copy episode. The first time I saw this one, I thought it was the most depressingly bleak hour of Star Trek I'd ever seen, and upon rewatch, it still is. But this time, I've recently seen the episode it was a sequel to, so now I also know it's full of inconsistencies, which lowers my opinon of it even further.

The first time I saw this episode was actually on a rerun during Covid quarantine in 2020, so I was very much not in the frame of mind to like an episode about the whole crew getting sick and dying off one by one. Not being in the midst of pandemic quarantine, and knowing how it ends, makes viewing this ep considerably less depressing, but it still doesn't improve my overall impression of it.

It actually makes me kind of mad that there was so much nice character stuff in the beginning of this, because it was wasted on a crew that wasn't even our real one, when I'm out here starving for decent writing and characterization in most of the episodes this season. To throw away some of the best character stuff this season on the goo copies is incredibly frustrating.

Fake Tom and B'Elanna's wedding was lovely and actually good, and they gave Tom some incredibly sweet dialog that once again makes me frustrated, because it shows that they absolutely do still know how to write him not being a jerk, but they just actively chose to make him an asshole half the time anyway. Except here, where it's not even actually our Tom. I am tearing my hair out!!

Other things wasted on the goo copies include B'Elanna and Seven having a nice scene together where they're not being adversarial, Neelix helping Tom find a honeymoon holoprogram, and Tom and B'Elanna being incredibly sweet together while she's dying in sickbay. At least I knew nobody actually died in the show when I first watched this, or that would have been heartbreaking. (Also Tom's 1920s Chicago holoprogram sounds awesome! I swear he's the only Starfleet officer who knows how to have fun- the rest of those nerds would probably go on a geological survey mission or something for their honeymoon lol) But of course, after B'Elanna dies, we find out that not only was she not the real B'Elanna, no one on the ship is the real them, they're all biomemetic copies, or as I like to call them, goo people.

They were the same ones created by the silver goo on the Y class planet in the season 4 episode 'Demon'. Which is all well and good, except that the planet they came from has an atmosphere that's deadly to humanoid lifeforms. So even if they forgot that they were goo copies, they would have figured it out as soon as they went on an away mission to an M class planet, because they wouldn't have been able to breathe, just like they couldn't breathe the air on the real Voyager. Likewise, if any alien had tried to come aboard their ship, they wouldn't have been able to breathe in their Y-class atmosphere. Unless they'd never left their ship, or had anyone try to come aboard theirs, there's no way they wouldn't have realized that they weren't human before this. (And fake Janeway mentions an Ensign Harper having a baby- how can the goo people have babies if they need to have a preexisting lifeform to mimic?? Unless the real Ensign Harper was pregnant when she was copied, but they state that they were over 10 months out from having been copied on the Demon class planet, so that doesn't check out.)

There were so many inconsistencies with how the celular cohesion loss they were having worked too- first they said that people closest to the warp core experienced it first, but Seven was in Engineering all the time, and was one of the last to go, so that didn't make sense. Also, the symptoms seemed to be different for everyone- B'Elanna got cold, then her skin started warping, then she died the same day, before she started to look melty and gross. Meanwhile, Janeway and most of the other crew hung on for months, and looked very gooey, and nobody else was shown having chills. Kate played it as though she was tired and slurring speech, whereas everyone else seemed normal energy level and speech.

On the one hand, sure, they're basically the same people, since they have the same memories, so it's a way to explore what would happen in a hopeless situation without actually killing everyone off in the end, and there's certainly a ton of drama and pathos and gut wrenching tragedy. But as soon as we find out it's not really our crew, I stopped really caring. There's no real stakes for the audience, because we know our crew is still going to be safe at the end and ready to go on adventures again next week. Tragic though their situation is, the goo copies don't matter to me because they're not the characters we've been following all this time. They've obviously had adventures we know nothing about, with their hyper warp drive, or whatever it's called. So then the rest of the episode just turns into a morbid countdown of watching them all be miserable and suffer and die, which is neither fun nor worthwhile. Spoiler alert: they all die, and no one ever learns what happened to them, or that they existed at all, which is pretty awful considering that, as far as we know, they were the only examples of their form of life. (But if they had stuff on board that was real, like Neelix's vegetables and their time capsule, that should have been in the debris field for Voyager to find actually, since that wouldn't have turned into goo with the ship.)

While it's an interesting idea to go back and find out what happened with that duplicated crew, it seems more suited to a short story somewhere than an actual episode. Voyager did a few weird, random episodes that didn't follow the standard format, but I find that they tend to be my least favorites because there's nothing to really hook you when the regular characters aren't even there. I would have been perfectly happy without this sequel, just remembering every once in a while that 'oh yeah, there's a whole duplicate crew living in that planet, weird! I wonder what they're up to!' and left it at that, because at the end of the day, it doesn't really matter, and it makes the ending of 'Demon' retroactively less hopeful, because while Voyager did such a nice thing to help this new life form come to be, they all died not long after, so nothing new was created after all. A real downer, tbh.

Tl;dr: A bleak, depressing, and ultimately pointless episode that didn't even feature any of our regular characters, which made me lose investment as soon as it was revealed.

[fyeahdprian]

[AV Club] Head In The Clouds

Head In The Clouds is the biggest festival you haven't heard of (yet)

The festival, a celebration of Asian heritage in music, featured performances from CL, Saweetie, DPR Live, DPR Ian, and more

By Shanicka Anderson  |  November 11, 2021 | 8:04pm

Until we meet again, Rose Bowl Photo: Shanicka Anderson

The last concert I attended was way back in January 2020. (It was Seventeen, at the Prudential Center in New Jersey). At the time, I had no idea it was going to be my last show for almost two years. So the opportunity for me to fly out to L.A. to attend 88Rising’s third Head In The Clouds festival—and its lineup that boasted CL, the queen of K-pop, along with Saweetie, Rich Brian, DPR Live, DPR Ian, Japanese Breakfast and many others—seemed like the perfect event for me to reenter the world of live music.

Additionally, West Coast Asian and Asian-American culture has influenced and directly birthed so much of the music I love, so I was stoked to finally attend a festival that celebrated it. For the uninitiated, 88Rising is a music company with a simple goal for its fest: It tries to round up the best and brightest acts from the Asian continent and the Asian diaspora. And after nearly two years of increased violence and prejudice against the Asian community in the wake of COVID-19, a celebration of its culture felt even more necessary. 

Following my five-hour flight (which included a very yappy Pomeranian who barked the entire trip) I was shuttled through LAX into an Uber (I know everyone says you have to drive everywhere in L.A., but damn, y’all really have to drive everywhere) and deposited at my swanky hotel in Koreatown this past Friday night.

Of course, Friday night was also the night of Astroworld, which means I received the horrific news just as I was getting ready to start my own festival weekend. It’s very dizzy and unsettling to prepare for a music fest so soon after learning of the tragedy and the deaths that transpired there, and I’m sure it was something that also weighed heavily on HITC organizers and security guards’ minds as we all headed into the weekend.

Head In The Clouds, day one (DPR Live and DPR Ian, eaJ, Saweetie, CL, and Illenium)

3:15 p.m.

Well, the vibes are off to a bad start. After getting dropped off at the Rose Bowl, I notice immediately that line for will call is very long. Like, probably the longest box office line I’ve ever seen at a concert before, or has possibly ever existed in human history. When I join, I ask around to find out if there’s a separate line for media. They tell me, no, it’s all one line.

Which of course means that, about 40 minutes later, when I finally get close enough to speak to someone else the the box office, I realized that there is, in fact, a completely different line for media. I walk over to that window and get my wristbands in five minutes flat. Sigh.

4:00 p.m.

When I make it past the gates, I am immediately overwhelmed by the sheer number of people. After over a year of being in quarantine and avoiding crowds, I’ve forgotten how to be around a crowd larger than ten people. And as I walk awkwardly and stiffly across the grassy field, I’m pretty sure it shows.

I walk past the merch stalls and take stock of the food vendor options (I notice a boba stall, a dim sum stall, one place that serves pork belly buns and another place that makes mapo tater tots at first pass), heading towards the main “88Rising” stage. 

I also survey the crowd. It’s a pretty eclectic mix: There are the guys who look like frat boys from a state college, couples who already can’t keep their hands off of each other, girls in fishnets and mesh who look dressed for a rave, and people who look ready to party like it’s 2019. I’m not totally sure how many people are expected to turn out this weekend but I already know that this will easily be the largest festival I’ve ever attended.

4:30 p.m.

DPR Live and DPR Ian’s joint set was the one I was looking forward to the most. Live’s music is more firmly hip hop-based; I’ve listened to him for years, and his set was full of crowd pleasers like “Martini Blue,” “Text Me,” and “To Myself.” (For that last one, just picture thousands of people screaming along to, “DPR, we gang gang!”) Live and Ian were joined by Korean-American musician eaJ for their collaboration “Jam & Butterfly,” and I was absolutely thrilled—I’m interviewing eaJ later, so it was good to get a little a preview before his own HITC slot tomorrow. 

Ian’s contribution to the DPR set included “Nerves,” “Scaredy Cat,” and his powerhouse debut single, “So Beautiful.” This was also Ian’s first time performing a show—ever. A pretty rad stage debut, if you ask me.

6:00 p.m.

Saweetie has just kicked off her set, and with the light work and projection screen illuminating the crowd, I can see how much the main stage area has filled out. My friends and I pick a less crowded patch of grass in the VIP section of the field to hang out for the evening. Also, it’s finally dark out, so it feels more like a concert now; the energy has ratcheted up.

Saweetie is one of those artists I never though I’d see live, so having her on this lineup is a treat. During her set she expresses appreciation for HITC and gives a special shoutout to her “Asian king and queens” in the crowd, delivering a set list that includes “My Type,” “Tap In,” and “Best Friend” (sadly, she performs that last one solo, without Doja Cat).

7:30 p.m.

My interview with eaJ goes smoothly (you can check that out when it goes up this weekend) but I was nervous that I would miss the main draw: CL. As I leave the media clubhouse and hurry out to the stage, it all kind of happens in slow motion: CL starts singing my favorite song “+DONE161201+,” I power-walk to the grass, and plant myself among a group of concertgoers who have decided to enjoy the show while sprawled out on top of some picnic blankets.

By the time CL brings Ian and Live out on stage to do “No Blueberries,” I’m getting a little embarrassingly emotional over how much I fucking missed live music. I forgot what it was like to listen to a song over and over again in your room alone, for months, and then go to a show and have the chance to scream the song with a bunch of strangers who love it just as much as you do. It’s so damn powerful.

8:00 p.m.

This is when the night takes a turn for the worse.

After CL’s performance, I meet back up with my friends, and we all decide it’s finally time to get food. All of the lines for the food stalls are incredibly long, so we decide to hop on the Korean barbecue line. After 20 minutes in line, we get to the cashier, only for me to discover they’re out of their only vegetarian option—which for me, a vegetarian, sucks. And to add the most brutal insult to injury, though I didn’t know it yet: It was time for Illenium’s set.

8:20 p.m.

To be honest, before Head In The Clouds, I’d never listened to Illenium. After HITC, I realized that my ignorance was bliss. Illenium is a DJ who makes some of the most grating EDM I have ever heard in my life. Maybe the people who aren’t covering this festival for work and who are on multiple recreational substances can appreciate his set, but for me, it’s awful. As his performance continues, I leave the field and seek refuge in the media clubhouse.

9:20 p.m.

With the vibes of the evening thoroughly destroyed by Illenium (the only white dude performer on the lineup, and he sent our mood and energy levels into a nosedive!), I decide to call it a night. After all, I have to be back the next afternoon to do this all over again.

As I’m leaving the Rose Bowl, I walk past the Double Happiness stage. Japanese Breakfast is in the tail end of her set; the crowd is more subdued over at this stage, but they’re super-engaged, and I can tell that JBrekkie’s set was the polar opposite of… whatever the hell Illenium had going on. 

We left the Rose Bowl and only had a slightly sketchy and mildly terrifying experience with the fake “cab company” that took us back to our Airbnb. The L.A. experience, baby! A rich tapestry!

Head In The Clouds, day two (Feelghoodmusic, Keshi, eaJ, Niki, Joji)

4:30 p.m.

The Feelghoodmusic set is another combination, featuring MFBTY and Bibi—artists from the Feel Ghood Music label, created by Tiger JK in 2013. Tiger JK, his wife and bandmate Yoon Mi-rae, and Bizzy—all of the OG K-hip hop group, MFBTY—take the stage, and they don’t let us forget their long history in the industry. “We’re old as shit,” Tiger JK tells the crowd.

However, that doesn’t stop them from dialing up the energy as we head into the second evening of the festival. The group’s enthusiasm is so infectious, I watch two separate breakdancing circles open up just on the other side of the VIP fence. And I mean honest-to-god breakdancing—people are doing handstands and backflips! Tiger JK doesn’t seem eager to leave the crowd, because he blatantly ignores his cue to end their set until the music is cut, the projection screen goes black, and the metaphorical rug is pulled out from under them. 

For Bibi’s half of the Feelghoodmusic set, she keeps the momentum going but adds a layer of slightly unhinged sex appeal. “Who’s having sex tonight?” she asks before shoving a hand into the giant beige purse she brought onstage with her; it’s filled with condoms and she gleefully throws handful after handful into the crowd. (I find out later that she actually hopped down off the stage, walked over to the barriers, and smooched one of the festivalgoers right on the mouth.) A part of me is obsessed with the chaotic and powerful energy of that… but a far bigger part of me is, uhhhh, horrified at the idea of kissing a stranger, in the middle of a crowd, in the middle of a pandemic. 

5:38 p.m.

One of the best things about a festival is when you stumble onto performance you hadn’t planned to watch, and end up walking away with a brand new music obsession. That’s what happened with me and Keshi.

Before he comes out, the crowd starts chanting his name. No performer yet has inspired such a reaction, so my interest is piqued. When he starts the first line of “Beside you,” every single person has their phone up and is recording. Again, no other artist other has had this much of the crowd completely enamored, all at once—and to be honest, I’m hooked too. He keeps the audience in the palm of his charismatic hand, even when his mic goes out. 

Keshi’s stage presence was especially shocking for me because the music he makes is pretty low key, lo-fi R&B. “It’s quarantine music,” my friend tells me. My other friend agrees: “Yeah, everyone got super into Keshi” during the pandemic. The way everyone around me is screaming Keshi’s own lyrics back at him seems like evidence enough.

6:30 p.m.

eaJ has a way of building rapport with a crowd. When I saw him perform with his group Day6 back in November 2019, it was the first thing I noticed. The way he bantered with his fans while on stage felt incredibly intimate. I wonder if he’ll be able to recreate that relationship with this massive festival crowd, especially given it’s a solo stage this time around. 

I quickly got my answer: Yes. When he gets on stage, eaJ jokes about the arrangement of his setlist, “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m stupid and I make bad decisions. The energy transfer [and] how I divided between songs is not good. I don’t know who the fuck made the track list… I did. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He also playfully laments his fans and their purposefully embarrassing handmade signs. “Why are all my fans always meme-ing on me, bro? Y’all are whack!” 

But he isn’t all quips and no substance. Somehow, eaJ—who still technically doesn’t have any songs available on streaming platforms—commands the crowd. He brings Keshi back out onstage to perform their song “Pillows,” and when it’s time to do fan-favorite “50 Proof,” eaJ pulls off a gut-wrenching rendition that feels like I’m being taken to church. “I know some of y’all don’t know me but I know you fuck with me now,” he tells the audience at one point. Amen.

7:33 p.m.

Niki is a goddamn superstar. For those who don’t yet know this artist, she’s a 22-year-old singer from Indonesia and who’s been releasing music with 88Rising since 2017. 

And from the moment she walks out onstage, Head In The Clouds becomes The Niki Show. First of all, she has not one, but three outfit changes (first a sparkly sequin outfit with matching eyeshadow, then a pink ruffled dress, and finally a gold romper with matching gold duster jacket). She cycles between doing choreography with her dancers, playing the piano, and playing the guitar. It’s riveting. Keshi comes onstage with her (his third stage appearance of the night) but his mic is still messed up. His mic issues have lasted for hours; what the hell?!

8:48 p.m.

It’s time for headliner Joji’s set, but after reaching the end of these two days, I am tired. Tired enough that I tell my friends to go ahead into the crowd while I sit this one out. And I mean literally sit it out—right here, on the plush faux-suede couches just outside of the media clubhouse.

As I watch Joji’s set, I find myself again filled with the same emotions I felt this time last night. I missed live music, and I’m so beyond grateful to be here. I’m also a nostalgia monster—so naturally, I’m already mourning the end of this festival and this weekend, even while I’m still here. 

It’s hard to describe the West Coast Asian-American music scene, but I’m struck by how very L.A. this festival has been. From the warm and sunny weather, to stalls selling spiked boba, to the festival’s lineup itself: Many of these performers are from overseas, and yet they were able to draw massive crowds of people who likely wouldn’t get to see these artists live outside of HITC. 

After seeing the enthusiastic crowd this weekend and witnessing how smoothly things went (terrible box office experience notwithstanding), I have high hopes for this festival next year. I imagine that—following the huge turnout and the fact that the entire show was livestreamed on Amazon—Head In the Clouds 2022 will be bigger, better, and have an even more impressive lineup. (Especially if we are finally freed of COVID and its subsequent travel restrictions.)

So, I’ll be back next year… but I’m renting a car.

[dancingacrossthemilkyway]

i have no idea what kind of drabble prompts you prefer tbh but here: jmart but in space. like sci-fi, maybe star trek-y

“Ow!” Jon flinches as a thick gel is applied to his reddened arm, freshly scraped free of the spores that had attempted to embed themselves in his skin. The gel itself feels relatively good against his skin, a soothing cool against uncomfortable heat, but the gloved hand rubbing it on is anything but gentle. “Are you trying to cause me more pain, Dr. Blackwood?”

The doctor in question grunts from behind the full-body suit he’s wearing as he treats Jon, but Jon doesn’t need to see his face to picture the severe expression residing there. Pinched brows, wrinkled nose, pursed lips: the trademark disapproving scowl Martin likes to fix Jon with whenever he comes back from an explorative mission that has gone somewhat sideways. 

It’s probably far more displeased than normal, considering the personal protectice equipment he’s donned and the fact that every member of the on-world team has been quarantined in their own separate rooms until Martin’s convinced they’re safe to be around.

“Will it keep you from doing something like this again?” Yeah, Martin’s definitely grumpy. His voice is pitched slightly higher than usual and filled with a mixture of sassy irritation that he only gets when particularly peeved with whatever stupid decision Jon’s made. “Christ, I thought having Sasha as your second-in-command would make you less likely to get into trouble, but she’s as bloody impulsive as you!” 

Sasha was promoted recently from Communications Officer when Manuela had finally had enough of Jon’s brand of spontaneous decision making and requested a transfer to a different ship. It wasn’t necessarily much of a surprise that they didn’t get on, even without Jon being the way he is; disciples of the Dark rarely worked well in close quarters with those of the Eye. It was one of the risks of having a crew contain an officer from each of the Fears: there were always going to be inherent disagreements that weren’t easily resolved due to a difference in beliefs. 

Jon hasn’t had much contact with Manuela’s replacement, Basira Hussein, but this mission proved that she can definitely hold her own. It shouldn’t be a surprise, given her high recommendation from Daisy.

Slowly they’re settling into a team Jon thinks he likes. Even if he doesn’t get along with all of them on a personal level, they’re good members of the crew and they work well with each other. That’s what matters - that’s what he remembers being emphasized at the academy. 

“Yes, well,” Jon replies, giving Martin a blank look as he speaks in his typical deadpan. “If I were less impulsive, we wouldn’t have as many successful missions under our belt already.”

Martin scoffs. “I’d take less successful missions if it meant you stayed safe. Or do you think I enjoy having to dig worms from your skin, or, or, make sure you don’t end up sprouting fungus, or stitching you up when you decide to piss off something with knife hands-”

Jon waves a hand between them, relieved when Martin finally stops aggressively rubbing the gel across his arm and steps back to survey him. “Yes, yes. That’s why I was chosen to be Captain, not you.”

Another scoff. “No, I chose to go to medical school, not the academy. Honestly, I don’t know why Space Marshall Bouchard chose you over all of the other far more qualified options-”

“Love you too, Martin,” Jon interjects with a soft laugh, having heard this spiel a million times before. And perhaps, if not for knowing it comes from a place of affection and concern, he’d take offense to it. But Martin worries; that’s part of who he is. He worries, and even if Jon were the most qualified individual for the job, he’d worry. 

“-I swear the man is just out to give me a heart attack when you go charging off into the dens of literal space lions. What did I ever do to deserve this?” Throwing his arms up in the air in an exaggerated gesture - which loses most of its effectiveness given the way the suit squeaks against itself as he moves - Martin moves to put away the supplies he used. “Christ. You know, it’s a good thing I love you, or I’d be done.”

“Done… with me, or on the ship?” Jon prompts, despite the fact that they’ve had this discussion before. Sometimes it’s fun to egg Martin on a little - god knows the favor is returned. 

“Both!” Martin groans, dropping the disposable tools into the hole that leads to the medical waste fires. “You’d better not grow anything and miss our date tonight.”

“I’ll do my best to not grow anything on this arm.”

“Anywhere, Jon! You’d better not grow anything anywhere!”

[statecryptids]

REVIEW: Astrovitae magazine Issue 2

Astrovitae is a magazine devoted to creators in the speculative fiction subgenre of speculative biology. Though people have imagined fantastic beasts and beings since the beginning of our species, speculative biology  focuses on developing organisms using our current knowledge of biology, ecology, physics, geology and other sciences. Though even within these limits there is a wide spectrum, as some creators may work with strict hard science rules while others prefer to design fantastic beasts closer to myth and folklore.

This second issue of Astrovitae shows significant refinement from the already impressive first issue.   There is a new section on speculative biology news featuring interviews, YouTube videos, Kickstarters, and new projects.. It’s a good way to keep abreast of the bewildering variety of speculative projects out there. This issue also features the first of a regular book review column, beginning with Christian Cline’s The Teeming Universe.

Collaborative projects are the focus of issue two, with articles on the online Discord-based Specposium convention, the Project Sil Discord, and a preview of Almost Real magazine. The latter showcases the Keraunoplast, fascinating slime mold-like organism that feeds directly on electricity and can actually bond with old space junk to form cybernetic life forms. This issue came out in September 2021, and it’s fascinating to see how the imposed quarantine of the Covid pandemic and the subsequent burst of more online communication through Discord, Instagram and other social media has led to the birth of so many new speculative biology projects.

Hyperlinks embedded in the Pdf pages are a really useful feature. Readers can click an article’s byline to go to the creator’s website or other social media. Clicking the section heading will also take one back to the table of contents.

As with the previous issue, Astrovitae #2 is divided into several sections: Captivating Worlds, with overviews of large world-building projects; Artist Spotlight, which looks at the creators themselves and their bodies of work as a whole; and Creature Compendium: which zooms in on individual organisms.

 Captivating Worlds begins with an in-depth look at the natural history of Mathijs Megens’ Amethyst Beach Shield, a chemosynthetic armored organism.

The next entry, Domenic Pennetta’s Project Perditus is a survey of a world that resembles Earth in the early Paleozoic, with creatures that will feel familiar to many paleo-enthusiasts, while still retaining their own alien-ness.

The Alternate Cenozoic Project by Thien Anh Nguyen is a what-if about an earth where the large dinosaurs were not killed off by an impact form space, following in the tradition of works such as Dougal Dixon’s The New Dinosaurs, and the Speculative Dinosaur Project.

Sea Serpents of the Arthechocene by Alejandro Martínez Fluxá is set in the future after human-caused mass extinctions. With all the large pinnipeds and cetaceans gone, sea snakes evolve to fill the niche of large oceanic predators and filter-feeders, becoming the long, whale-like tiamats.

Evan Proctor’s Before Planet Feni is primarily an outline of the dominant species on the titular planet, as well as some background about the planet’s explorers. Hopefully there will be more to come in this work.

The World of Nijin-Konai by Lorenzo Battilani is a hard science look at a primarily aquatic alien world, delving into microbiology and genetics with a radiation resistant enzyme and redundant genes that allow the planet’s organisms to adapt to the lethal UV radiation of their native star.  Battilani also discusses the complex neurological, metabolism and anatomy of his creature in minute detail that could have come from a college biology textbook.

  Artist Spotlight features an article by YouTube creator Biblaridion detailing how their channel grew from a tutorial on concepts in evolutionary biology to a detailed study of a fictional world. 

Reinhard Gutzat offers a meditation on the sometimes rocky intersection of creativity and biological accuracy during an artist’s development process.

 Artist Sibilla Pepi offers a look at their design process as they develop a feathered wyvern based on the biology of real-life birds.

Creature Compendium showcases individual speculative creatures in the manner of pages taken from a field guide and includes a giant diving beetle, an alien tadpole, a balloon-like organisms that lives in the atmosphere of a gas planet, and more.

The authors write with the enthusiasm and vernacular of seasoned biologists well versed in scientific nomenclature. Their creatures are given unique taxonomic names and anatomical terms, adding greatly to their believability. These complex names can get a bit overwhelming, however, leading to what one might call “textbook burnout”.  Sometimes I found it necessary to go back and reread articles to fully absorb all the names. This terminology might turn off a reader with a scientific background, but the imaginative variety on display should hold most interests. This is a minor critique, though, and the magazine overall is a professional-quality publication that would be at home in any library shelf. I am particularly pleased to see more projects focusing on the hypothetical evolution of Earthly creatures.

Astrovitae issue 2 is vailable both as a free downloadable PDF from the magazine’s website and as a virtual book that one can flip through on Yumpu.com