#Amphibian Press

[luninosity]

Out today from Amphibian Press: We Came to Dance, a charity anthology benefiting Club Q!

Such a great cause - and you get a brand-new, never-before-seen story by, er, me, K.L. Noone, as well as stories by fabulous author-friends like Olivia Wylie & Kaye O'Malley & more! with gorgeous art for each story, by Olivia, as well!

You can get the digital and the print versions here!

[quirkycatsfatstacks]

Review: Deuces are Wild by O.E. Tearmann

Review: Deuces are Wild by O.E. Tearmann

Series: Aces High, Jokers Wild #6Author: O.E. TearmannPublisher: Amphibian PressReleased: July 16, 2022Received: ARC Deuces are Wild is the sixth novel in O.E. Tearmann’s Aces High, Jokers Wild series. I’ll confess that I dove right into the series here, being unaware of the history until it was too late. That being said, this novel does a delightful job of getting me up to speed. The country…

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

Draw Dead by O.E. Tearmann

Aces High, Jokers Wild #5

 2159 AD could be utopian or dystopian depending on what earthlings opt to do now…in this world inhabited by dogmatic autocratic controlling corporations, dissenting Dusters, and Fringers on the outside…utopia does not exist for a select few and even for them…it is not all that. It is a world I hope to never see but one that is populated with characters I can’t wait to spend time with because the Wildcards ARE all that and perfect company as they fight to right wrongs.

 What I liked:

* The Wildcards and dissenters working to find out what the cause of and solution for the unconventional weapon of war launched on them by the corporations

* The way they came together to assist the Writers Union

* Seeing how the Wildcards are coming along two years after the last book took place

* Aidan & Kevin: commander and logistics officers of Base 1407, married and settled, loving, wise, kind, strong, and there for one another, their team and others

* Janice: hydroelectric officer, trans woman, agriculture and science savvy, protective, strong, assertive, and ripe for a relationship – really liked her interaction with young Abigail and Milo

* Milo and his daughter Abigail: Milo had some brainwashing to overcome and does so as the story progresses, Abigail was there to help not only her father learn but assist on the base – the tie between father and daughter was wonderful

* Catching up with the other characters on the base: how the younger ones are changing, how the ones in relationships are faring, and what they are up to in general

* The camaraderie of the Wildcards and how they are there for one another as well as for others that are in need even

* The sci-fi aspects that I wouldn’t mind seeing invented sooner than later

* The impact that the dissenters are having on the Corporations

* Being able to identify with and root for those working against the corporations

* That this series is so believable,educational, illuminating, and relatable

* Thinking about and hoping for the overthrow of the corporations

* All of it except for…

 What I didn’t like:

* Who and what I was meant not to like

* The loss of innocent lives

 Thank you to NetGalley, Amphibian Books, and Books Forward PR for the ARC – This is my honest review.

 5 Stars

    BLURB

 There's a calm before the storm… In 2159, the Democratic State Force gains ground every day. As they fight to bring representative democracy back, they become heroes to the citizens indentured to the United Corporations of America. Widely spread guerilla units support the first civilian protests the country has seen in decades. Now it’s the Corporations on the defensive. And they are getting desperate. On Base 1407, the Wildcards start to think they just might help the former United States wake up from its nightmare after all. In spite of the hints of internationally banned weapons the Corporations may have up their sleeves, there’s hope. People whisper that maybe, someday, they might just win. But you should never say something like that too loud. Fate’s a bitch. You don’t want to tempt her.

[sitting-on-me-bum]

A Montana toad in the newly established Wyoming toad conservation area, US. Federal officials have announced the creation of two new national wildlife refuges in Montana and Tennessee, which they say will help protect endangered species including toads, bats, shrimp and salamanders

Photograph: Sara Armstrong/AP

[dinoberrypress]

Hark! Says the Frog Magus is a whimsical system-agnostic dungeon crawl from Navathem’s End designer Sin Posadas, and we're so excited to be working with them to release a fresh & froggy updated version!

Pre-orders open July 19th, and a preview is available now!

Hop on over to bytes.rip/hark to get notified when pre-orders open!

In addition to a 50+ page print edition, there’ll be some fun, froggy new merch to add to your coffers, too! Buttons, bookmarks, stickers, and art of your own frog wizard in the book!

You can check out the preview on Sin’s itch page right here: https://diwatamnl.itch.io/hark-says-the-frog-magus

[vintagewildlife]

Wormy salamander By: Vasserot/Jacana Press Agency From: Éditions Rencontre Cards 1977

[whensecretsrise]

The monster adoption fair was like nothing you could imagine. It was massive. Feeling as though it stretched on forever. Creatures ranged from mundane to outlandish. Rows upon rows of were-creatures- be it wolves or cats, naga or foxes or great feathered birds and more- all nestled safely within their kennels. A sign directed the way to where the centaurs, minotaurs, and satyrs were kept. You barely gave it a glance before turning down the next row. Tanks held merfolk and sirens, some muzzled for safety, and a number of amphibian and reptilian creatures. One tank in particular seemed impossibly large. The water in it so dark you weren't sure what could be inside. That was until a great suckered tentacle brushed along the glass.

Your heart kicked against your chest at the sight of it. Half primal fear, but the other half. Well, there wasn't any use dwelling on it. There was no way you could imagine what caring for something that large would take.

You wander deeper, giddiness welling inside you. The background checks you had to pass, the rounds and rounds of interviews you had to go through to prove that you would be a responsible owner. All of that and more was worth it to be allowed entry into the fair.

There was a temperature change in the next room you entered. Everything was warm enough that you were already starting to sweat before taking even a dozen steps inside. Demons, incubi, succubi, and plenty more beyond that all stared out at you through their glassed enclosures. The glass was thick enough that you couldn't hear their words, but the way they moved, so languid and sensual, had a blush rising to your cheeks that had nothing to do with the heat. The temperature slowly lowered as you approached the far end of the room. The creatures in those enclosures were more insectoid. Joints that seemed to bend the wrong way, appendages stranger than any you'd seen before. You couldn't help but pause to watch their twitching movements and how they traversed the structures in their enclosures. Beyond those lay more familiar creatures. Giant bees. Wasps with their wings beating so fast you were sure you could hear their buzz. Moths that had left a fine coat of powder from their wings on the glass. After a moment of awe you move on.

The temperature in the next room was considerably lower. A much welcomed respite from the heat. More tanks and enclosures filled this room. Your heart began to speed for you had made it to the room you had come for. Slimes of all sizes and colors pressed against their glass. There were plenty of humanoid slimes with big, soft eyes and coy smiles, but that wasn't what you wanted. You brushed past the larger tanks with barely more than a second glance. A smaller companion was what you were seeking. Something that wouldn't take up too much space, but was easy to cuddle with if you wanted.

You carefully inspected a number of tanks. Some of the slimes gave off a faint glow while others shimmered under the lights. There were even some that seemed to change from one color to another as they moved. Each one had a small description plate in front of it detailing habits, temperament, enrichment suggestions, and more besides. The wiggling masses within regarded you with varying levels of interest.

One, however, immediately perked up when you approached it. It was a beautiful pearl white that sparkled with golds and pinks. It swarmed against its glass, pressing itself as close to you as it could manage. Tentatively you placed a gentle hand against the glass. Doing so wasn't allowed, but you couldn't help the way it was drawn to you. A trickle of warmth passed through the glass and a wave of calm washed over you. This was it. The one you would take home had claimed you for its own.

You quickly scribbled down your guest number on the provided card, and took a copy of the creature's location card. The slime remind pressed against the glass as if watching you work. It was only when you began to walk away did it shrink back down to the bottom of its container.

It took a while to locate a staff member among the vast network of rooms and the other visitors of the fair.

"I would like to adopt this creature please," you said as you handed over the slime's identification card.

The worker scanned the card before giving you a sympathetic look. "Are you sure about this? This particular slime has been bounced back to us at least three times. It's very temperamental."

You recall the wave of calm you had felt when you were only separated from it by the glass beneath your hand. "I'm certain."

"Have you ever had a slime before?"

"No," you admitted, "I've never had the money to adopt one. I've been saving for years though, and I'm certain this is the slime I want."

"You might want to start with an easier one first. You being brand new to this and all. I can almost guarantee that this one will still be around if you decide to go looking later."

You shake your head. "I appreciate the advice, but I'm set on this one," you say firmly.

"Suit yourself," the worker shrugs. "Not like the poor thing isn't used to coming back here."

"I'm going to take great care of it. I've got my apartment set up and everything."

"Alrighty then. You can go ahead and head up front to pay. I'll have your slime brought up by the time you finish." The identification card is handed back to you.

As promised, there was a small, travel sized tank waiting for you after you'd paid and gone through the mandatory speech on slime care. You already knew most of it after years of research, but it did remind you of a few things you seemed to have forgotten.

You carried your new creature out to your car and buckled the tank safely in the front seat.

"Alright little slime, it's me and you now. I'm going to make sure you have a good new life. I'm not going to give up on you like the others." You pat the top of the tank and feel a vibration and a soft noise from the other side of the glass, almost as if the creature was purring.

Back home you carried the case over to the tank you had prepared for it and sat it inside. Only then did you open the travel container so that the slime had a chance to safely explore and get used to its new surroundings. You secured the tank lid and went off to put away the pamphlets that the adoption fair had given you.

When you returned the slime had moved into the big tank. It pressed itself against the glass as though it could sense you.

"Hey there, it looks like you're getting used to your new place. I hope that it’s big enough for you. It'll be a while before I can afford something bigger, but even then I'm not sure it would fit."

The slime vibrated again.

You smile and open the tank to remove the travel container. The slime oozed off of the glass and to the bottom of its tank. You stick your hand back down, fingers brushing affectionately against it. Another purr came from it. This time, the first time you've actually touched it, had it suckling at your fingers. Calmness washed over you again. Your fingertips began to tingle.

"Hey now, what are you doing?" You pull away with a laugh.

The slime follows you up, but releases you once your hand is nearly out of its tank. It sinks back down into a puddle and crawls to a corner as if sulking.

With another laugh you reach both hands down toward it. "Alright, if you're going to be mad about it, I guess I can let you out for a bit. We'll both have a chance to properly meet each other."

It surged upward into your hands. It oozed over the edges of your hands, but retained its overall shape. You carried it over to the couch.

The creature puddled into your lap. Bare seconds had passed before it was sending tendrils out to explore you. It wrapped itself up your arms. Retreated and slid along your neck. It caressed your lips and coated your stomach.

No residue was left in its wake. You had expected needing a full shower after taking it out of its tank, but perhaps not. Calmness had stolen through you, stronger now that the two of you were touching. The soft, lapping movements over your skin lulled you. Before you knew it you were stretching out across the couch, mind hazy with calm. Time passed and your eyes dropped closed. Your slime exploring you had faded into the back of your consciousness.

When it slipped beneath your clothes you barely noticed. Not even when it explored lower, seeking out the warmth between your thighs. By then your body was pliant and wanting. A wanting that stole over you on paws so soft that you couldn't remember not that want. Something secret, just for you. The slime drizzled like honey into your center. So slow and fluid you didn’t register the feeling. No, you existed in a state of such hazy serenity that it was only when the slime began to purr that you clicked back to reality.

The purr sent a jolt through you. A vibration that had your hands clenching into fists on pure instinct. Now you could properly feel the ebb and glide of it within you. Your hazed mind began to clear with your racing heart. Heat bloomed in your cheeks. Seemingly of their own accord, your hips began to rock. The slime began to spread. It filled you in ways it hadn’t before. A moan escapes your mouth. You arch your back, trying desperately to grind on thin air.

The slime moves inside you as if thrusting. Hitting you deep and slow. Even through your first orgasm it doesn't stop. It sent another wave of haze inducing calm washing over you. Keeping you right on the edge. Making sure you felt every millimeter of it. A tendril of slime draws out of you. It spreads to cover your center. The feeling of it sucking at you pulls another orgasm from your pliant body.

It wrings orgasm after orgasm out of you. The state of bliss and arousal is never disrupted for long. It ebbs and flows from orgasm to orgasm until, finally, the slime pulls away. It climbs up your sweat slicked skin to nestle against your chest, purring contentedly.

"Little slime," you whisper, "you and I are going to get along very well."

HAVE YOUR AGE LISTED OR CATCH A BLOCK

[omgreally]

Defeat

Defeat - E 18+ - Din Djarin/F!Reader - 900 words Warnings: fluff with a side of smut. The post-Season 3 drabble nobody asked for.

Din Djarin's brooding again.

You are fairly certain he does it unconsciously, like breathing, protecting Grogu, or beating the living shit out of people. Usually, there's a correlation between those. But then there are the quiet moments, the softer moments in between the more visceral ones.

It's like he doesn't know what to do with himself now except exude an aura of I-really-wish-I-was-killing-someone-right-now.

He's sitting on the porch, feet up, watching Grogu levitate some frogs.

"Retirement doesn't suit you, Djarin," you tell him, not for the first time.

The helmet turns, and Mando--Djarin--lowers his feet as if he's ashamed, as if he's been caught doing something he shouldn't, like relaxing. To a Mandalorian, that's tantamount to heresy.

He still keeps his helmet on when he's outside.

You approach slowly, as if he's a wild animal, stopping short of extending your hand for him to sniff. The impassive helmet just stares. So you insinuate yourself onto his lap, and the vocoder digitizes a soft noise as you settle with your back against his chest.

"What are you ruminating about this time?" You watch Grogu juggle a family of amphibians, giggling.

"Nothing," Din Djarin says, a fuzzy rumble against your back. He moves your hair away from your neck, and you shiver at the brush of his gloved fingers. His thumb finds a knot in your trapezius and presses in firmly.

"Liar," you reply, but without any real venom. He's working the knot out with slow circles, and it feels quite nice, actually.

"I think I know the problem," you say, trying not to groan. He makes a noise which means go on, lifting the hairs on the back of your neck. "You're bored. There's not enough adrenaline in your system when nobody's been trying to kill you for a while."

Djarin is silent, which means you're right, but I don't like it.

"Think Grogu can keep himself occupied for a while?" you add, with the dark heat of the forge in your voice and your fingers drifting back along the outside of his thigh.

He stands, and you slip off his lap. "Perimeter's active," he says. "He won't wander too far."

There was a time when he wouldn't let Grogu out of his sight. A robust security system--the one you installed--helped. You're impossibly glad you did as you let Din Djarin grab your hand and lead you back inside the house.

He turns off the lights. Clothes hit the floor like bodies amid the thunk of weaponry and armour. Calloused skin meets yours, and you fight to kiss him, but he dodges away and applies his mouth, impossibly warm, to your neck and lower.

You don't make it easy for him. He handles you delicately--for him--but each touch weakens his defense. The sweep of your fingers over his chest, his stomach, disarms him. He wrestles to pin you to the wall, but he knows he's defeated. The battle was lost the moment he took your hand.

The bed is soft, and Din Djarin is hard above you, inside you. The stretch and burn of him is enough to unmake you. But he is trembling, his mouth open against the hollow of your collarbone, panting as if he's been running for his life. You wrap your legs around his waist and draw him in closer. His scalp is damp beneath your fingertips.

But Mando has always been pinpoint-accurate with both his aim and his timing. He rears back enough to reach between your bodies, and his trigger finger settles on your clitoris. He knows when to strike a last-minute killing blow, and this is it. You curse and cry his name, and you can just about see, in the dim half-light from under the door, the curve of a triumphant grin on his face, and that's what it does you in.

The blinding rise of your orgasm crests, burning through your nerves from his fingers and his cock. You clench around him and try to cover your own mouth with your hand, but he drags it away, pins it to the bed and leans forward to growl in your ear, "I want to hear you."

You writhe and sob, but the Mandalorian is relentless, driving into you with the force of a man possessed, to whom surviving the next thirty seconds is the only option he has left. It's not until you're limp and spent beneath him that he stops moving, that he withdraws his hand and lets you go so you can breathe again.

He keeps his weight off you, his arms bracketing your head, hips pressed to yours, savouring the twitch and shudder of you around him.

"You win," you croak as soon as your ability to speak returns.

"Just because you've surrendered doesn't mean I'm done with you yet," he says, and shifts a little atop you. Oversensitive, you gasp at the hard, wet slide of him; nearly frictionless, he's so deep inside you that you ache.

"I can't," you gasp.

But you can. And you do. And so does he.

Afterwards, he tells you it's a draw.

When you head back outside, limping a little--and there's a definite swagger to Djarin when he notices that--Grogu is more or less where you left him, sitting by the pond. His bat-wing ears twitch, and he babbles happily as the Mandalorian picks him up.

"Hey," you say, frowning as you notice something. "All the frogs are gone."

Grogu burps.

Din Djarin sighs. "Guess he won, too."

♥

[disneytva]

The Art Of Amphibia To Feature Foreword By Anne Boonchuy's Voice Actress Brenda Song

"THE ART OF AMPHIBIA" Art Book by TOKYO POP & Disney Publishing Worldwide will have a foreword by Brenda Song giving her retrospective on the whole series 🐸💙💎

📚The Art Of Amphibia - November 19, 2024

Matt Braly

Drew Taylor

TOKYO POP

Disney Press

Disney Books

Disney Publishing Worldwide

Disney Hyperion

Amphibia chronicles the adventures of three best friends who find themselves magically transported to the world of Amphibia, a wild marshland tropical island full of anthropomorphic amphibians and dangerous beasts. The three girls are separated when they arrive in Amphibia, and must go on their own fantastical journeys to reunite and save their new friends. Following the success of Marcy’s Journal, TOKYOPOP presents The Art of Amphibia. Lovingly crafted by Matt Braly, the creator and showrunner of the Disney animated series, this hardcover book features behind-the-scenes artwork from the television series and written insights and testimonials from the crew.  Packed to the brim with never-before-seen character designs, location designs, and development art, this book is a delight for Amphibia fans

[emilybeemartin]

Inktober Days 7-9

Day 7: "Drip"

Can you believe we live in a world where the tiny drip-drip-drip of water can carve vast caves deep underground? To wander through Mammoth Cave—or any of the caves protected by the NPS—is to appreciate the power of water and time. Geologic formations aptly named flowstone and dripstone ripple, drizzle, and cascade in a mirror of the water that created them.

Touring Mammoth Cave is one of the earliest memories I have of visiting a national park. I remember squeezing through tight passages after my dad, as well as experiencing true, utter darkness for the first time when the ranger switched all the lights off.

Day 8: "Toad"

There’s something so grand about toads. Whether it’s a teeny little gentleman perched on a wet rock or a great gargantuan grandee lolloping along a muddy path, it always seems like a blessing to spy a toad. Perhaps it’s a holdover from childhood, when toads were some of the only wildlife we could get our hands on, cradling their squishy bodies and staring into their ever-grumpy faces.

Most parks in the NPS host toads, even ones where it might seem improbable. In the high, cold slopes of Rocky Mountain, the boreal toad can be found in wet meadows and ponds. It’s considered the only alpine toad in Colorado.

Because toads and other amphibians are so sensitive to their environments, they’re often considered indicator species of ecosystem health. Healthy toads mean healthy land, water, and air. Unfortunately, like many amphibians, boreal toad populations are in decline due to chytrid fungus, a disease that’s been decimating amphibian populations across the Americas, Europe, and Australia. Biologists in Rocky Mountain are carrying out important work to study and save their little high-alpine gentletoads from collapse.

Day 9: "Bounce"

Recently, when I was helping my brother move across the country, our plans went awry due to freak bad weather across the southwest. We diverted north and found ourselves in Arches National Park. It turned out to be the highlight of our whole trip. It was late winter, and the vibrant red rocks were ribbed with snow. The air was crisp, the panoramas of frosted mountains undisturbed by dust or haze. And the park was quiet, utterly so—I’ll always remember the silence of our campsite, broken only by the croaking of ravens and distant coyote song.

To cap it all off, pressed into the red sand around our site were dozens of little footprints—the hopping marks of kangaroo rats. They were like getting a postcard in the mail from a faraway friend. Hello, hello, hello. We’re out and about. Have a nice stay.

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

Aces and Eights by O.E. Tearmann

Aces High, Jokers Wild #4

 Every book in this series has pulled at my heartstrings, made me think about our world now and how it could change as dramatically as it has in this dystopian world, and has made me care about the characters and the future of earth.

 Having gardened, been part of a tomato seed group online and shared seeds with others, planted seeds that did not grow that were perhaps modified by companies, and harvested from trees, plants and vines…this book definitely hit home.

 What I liked:

* The Wildcards…all of them!

* Aidan: base commander who has come into his own, trans, undergoes transformative surgery early in this book, in a relationship with Kevin, admired by many, a great leader, has a difficult time in this book

* Kevin: logistics officer, genetically altered to higher corporate standards, history buff, capable, good for and with Aidan

* The seed theme and importance in this book…really hit home

* The way the team is like a family and dedicated not only to their military goals but also to one another

* The budding romance between Topher and Billie

* The admiration more than one has for the Wildcards and how it is expressed

* The connection that develops between the Wildcards and Coomb Olwen

* The Pagan tie-in and the general acceptance of a variety of religions in the series

* The alternative medicine option used to heal one character that was dealing with PTSD after torture

* The open mindedness found on the Wildcards base

* The way the relationship between Aidan and Kevin has developed…really admire this couple

* Wondering what the next book in the series will be about – can’t wait!

* All of it really except…

 What I didn’t like:

* Who and what I was meant not to like: Ezra, the bounty hunters, those willing to kill and torture, the brainwashing and fear used by the corporations in charge, etc

 Did I like this book? Yes

Would I read more in this series? Definitely

 Thank you to NetGalley, Amphibian Press and Books Forward for the ARC – This is my honest review.

 5 Stars

     BLURB

 The year: 2157 The mission: change everything The Unit: Democratic State Force Base 1407 Call handle: The Wildcards Seven Corporations control what was the United States of America. The food supply and its production is controlled by American AgCo. All agricultural seeds in the United States have been genetically designed to fail outside Corporate control. At least, that's what the Corporations say. There's a rumor that a seed bank has survived the destabilization that brought down old America, and the seventy-five years of Corporate ownership that followed. If it still exists, it would provide free, accessible food for the Democratic State Force and everyone in their care. It's a risky hunt for a treasure that may or may not exist. Something to put the most resourceful team in the Force to work on. The Wildcards just got the call. A hunt for hidden treasure. Free food. What could go wrong? Never ask that question. Life's a bitch. She'll answer.

[shiyorin]

#Princess and the frog? No, it is Reader and the Primarchs frog... I mean 25cm doll :v

#Big E: I should have known dolls worked better than frogs sooner.

#Today's menu: Konrad and Sanguinius.

#Just a romcom story. No one ask but I still do it for funny :v

You tossed fitfully, dreaming strange dreams in the depths of night. When awareness surfaced, you found yourself in a moonlit glade, sparkling with an ethereal glow. 

A rustling came from the treeline, and out stepped a being so bizarre you wondered if still dreaming. Clad head to toe in fluttery silks of spun gold, gossamer wings fluttered serenely upon a back too broad for any bird or insect. 

"Fear not, mortal!" came an undeniably masculine though lilting voice. "I am your Fairy Godmother, here to aid you in this dark hour."

You stared, speechless. Was this truly Him? "Uh...right. Nice dress?"

The Emperor swooned theatrically. "Why thank you dear! Now, down to business - you seek handsome princes, no?" 

"Not particularly-"

"Excellent! For I have just the task." With a blinding flash, many fat toads appeared amid flickering lights. Wait...those bulging eyes seemed awfully familiar...

"Alas, these poor souls were cursed. A kiss from beauty's lips alone can break the spell!" announced Fairy Godmother Emperor. 

You eyed the frogs warily. "And what if their infectious diseases jump from mouth to mouth upon such contact?"

Fairy Emperor pouted, wings drooping. "Fear not harm, my dear! True love conquers all impediments. Now, chop chop - kiss them and claim your men!"

With that he shoved you none-too-gently towards the waiting amphibians. You dug in your heels stubbornly. "Absolutely not! I'll catch some plague for certain, kissing frogs willy-nilly."

Unfortunately, the frogs had other ideas. They began hopping toward you, croaking plaintively as only amphibians can. You shrieked and ran, the army of frogs gaining swiftly. Diving into the woods, you dashed wildly as frog gave chase.

Crashing through brambles with amphibious entourage in relentless pursuit, you fled breathlessly until-

You woke with a start, entangled in sweat-soaked sheets. Many pairs of bulging eyes stared down at you, and you realized with dread - the frogs had infiltrated your very dreams! Screaming, you swatted them away, bolting upright just in time to see...

Nothing. Only empty room greeted your wide eyes. It had only been a nightmare after all. You sighed shakily, scrubbing your face rigorously as if to purge all memory of Fairy Emperor's nonsensical demands.

From now, you vowed never to sample strange foods before bedtime again.

Konrad Curze

You returned wearily to your chambers after a long shift, eager to collapse into comforting silks. But stopping short, a glint of silver caught your eye amid folds in bed.

Approaching cautiously, you peeled back layers to reveal a stuffed doll nestled innocently within. It was fashioned to resemble a certain Night Haunter, down to each rasping spike and curl of thread-hair. 

Though only 25cm tall, its button eyes seemed eerily familiar, bearing the Primarch's unnerving gleam. You scooped it up suspiciously, turning the toy this way and that. 

Who would leave such a thing, and why model it after Konrad Curze of all beings? You wondered if it was some joke, yet detected no hint of tampering. Likely one of the Emperor's strange gifts that simply...appeared sometimes.

Resolving to ponder mysteries later, you shrugged and nestled your new companion. "Well little doll, it's true your original is far from cuddly. But you're rather cute yourself!"

Burying your face in soft felt, you swore you felt tiny muscles tensing as the doll seemed almost...desperate to escape your hold. You paid it no mind, merely tightening your grasp with a contented sigh. Because that was surely impossible! 

Observe button eyes pleading silently, On a strange impulse, you pressed a fleeting kiss to the doll's stitched mouth, stilling its squirms.

At once a tremendous plume of dark smoke erupted, swallowing the room in choking fumes. You fell back coughing, but through the haze saw a towering silhouette emerge like a vengeful wraith. 

When smoke cleared, a fully formed Konrad Curze stood before you - all ten feet of primal fury barely contained within smoldering armor. Yet his usual scowl seemed almost... bashful? His pale skin flushed to a sallow stain across razor-thin cheeks. And were those dark eyes widening in dread?

He grasped desperately for some semblance of composure, snarling to mask inner turmoil. “Explain yourself, mortal, before I flay you where you stand!” 

You gaped, struggling to process this abrupt transformation. “I, uh...kissed your doll?” 

Realization dawned in widening dark orbs. “The visions spoke true. I....”

Your mind is reeling. What in the Emperor's name had just occurred?! "My... My Lord... So... you were the toy all along?" 

A curt nod, gaze darting fitfully about as if seeking escape. Clearly the Night Haunter wished to be anywhere but here, pressed into vulnerability by his bizarre enchantment's end.

He backed slowly into a shadowed corner, hoping its folds might swallow him whole. Never had Konrad felt so exposed, so embarrassed, and at the hands of a mere mortal, no less!

"The Emperor deemed a...lesson was in order..." His whisper was ragged, commanding. Yet undercurrents of shyness shone through crackling anger and pride. "This humiliation is beyond enduring." 

You couldn’t help but smile, endeared by his fluster. But why? You should be scared and terrified when facing a Primarch!  But no, you find him... cute? Your taste in men is terrible and you should die for that. You smile wryly "There now, it can't have been that horrible a kiss to transform you so."

A mighty gauntlet shot out to capture your wrist before you could continue your word. Konrad gripped just tightly enough to emphasize his immense strength without harm, glaring daggers through slitted gaze slits.

"You shall tell no soul of this humiliation, mortal," he growled, low and menacing. Yet the effect was ruined somewhat by a pink flush darkening to fuschia across his cheek plates. You merely grinned wider. You know you are playing with fire and would die.

"Oh, I don't know. Your reaction seems payment enough for that." you mused slyly, tapping his knuckles with your free hand. "Maybe another kiss, hmm?"

Thought Konrad surely imagined eviscerating the audacious creature where you stood, lingering embarrassment gave way to begrudging intrigue instead. Leaning down, he brushed your cheek in a facsimile of affection, warmth echoing through plating. Lips brushed softly in the embrace's sheltering shadow, kindling sparks that may blossom yet into something beautiful, unexpected…

Sanguinius

You groaned, rubbing gritty eyes as reports swam blurrily before your. 11 hours straight hammering away in this suffocating medicae vault had pushed even your limit.

"Enough!" you snarled, flinging down your datapad in frustration. The neverending  bureaucracy would be the death of them all at this rate. Glaring about at mountains yet unscaled, you longed for sweet oblivion's embrace.

A flash of silvery white caught your weary gaze. On the floor beside your chair lay a small stuffed toy, a perfect miniature Sanguinius in all his golden glory. You blinked slowly, wondering if exhaustion had driven you mad at last.

"Great, Now I'm hallucinating." you muttered, scooping up the 25cm high Primarch doll. Its fabric wings extended invitingly and you couldn't help but nestle it against your cheek with a bone-deep sigh. The toy smelled faintly of plumage and night-blooming blossoms, soothing your frayed nerves. 

But as you sagged against the barricade of unfinished records, even hallucinations could not stave off sleep's implacable tide. You curled around the tiny angel and surrendered, visions fading to blankness at long last...

Light caressed your face some untold time later, lingering there as if loath to disturb. You grumbled and would have rolled away, but something held you securely yet gently in place. 

Bleary eyes blinked open to confusion. You lay slumped across your desk still, but a soft blanket had been draped protectively over slender form. And those weren't feathers caught in your hair, were they?

You sat up abruptly, dislodging more downy intruders. 

"But...how...?" you protested weakly. Only the teasing morning breeze answered through open ceiling panels, rippling records abandoned by your side.  

No footprints marred the dust-coated floor, and the door remained bolted fast. You hugged yourself, feathers floating free on invisible currents as mind chased circling mysteries endlessly. 

You eyed the tiny doll warily, half convinced you still dreamt amid paperwork piles. Gently poking its downy cheek elicited no response, yet the craftsmanship seemed uncannily lifelike. 

"Weird..." you muttered, though found yourself drawn again to those embroidered features so serenely angelic. On a whim, you pressed a featherlight kiss to its head, chuckling at your own folly. 

Smoke billowed where the doll had sat, forcing your back with a gasp. Two massive wings materialized amidst swirling mist, great plumes showering silvery motes as they stretched to their full span. Before you coalesced a giant finding you with a patient smile.

"Lord Sanguinius!" You shrieked, recoiling instinctively from this new impossibility. Your hands fumbled panic-stricken for the door behind, scrabbling at locked metal in desperation. 

"Your reaction… quite far from what I expected," came his soft voice behind. You froze at the gentle jest, relief warring with confusion and not a little dread. 

Wings rustled and a warm presence appeared at your back, blocking escape. "Am I truly so terrifying, mortal?" Sanguinius asked, hurt faint yet unmistakable. 

You dared a look over your shoulder into his earnest face. Gods, those earnest faces would be your undoing one day...Cheeks burning, you stammered, "M-my apologies, Angel. You just surprised me, that's all."

His beam could have lit the darkest void. "No harm done. Now, reward my efforts properly. Does a kiss still await?"

Heat scalded your further. Kiss??? But those hopeful eyes would accept no refusal, and truly, he deserved reward...

Slowly turning, you gazed up into sapphire orbs aglow with boundless compassion. Steeling your nerve, you leaned close and touched your lips to his gently.

Feathers as soft as velvet caressed your cheek in answer. When at last you broke away, light-headed and heartsore, Sanguinius grinned triumphantly. "See? No peril nor perilous acts to earn beauty's favor."

[dinoberrypress]

Hark! Says the Frog Magus: Prints in stock!

We're so so so so excited! The print edition of Sin Posadas' Hark! Says the Frog Magus is now available at Dinoberry Press!

We're so happy with how it turned out. The art from Fernando and Jam is so great, and everything just looks awesome in print.

Take a look, and then go pick it up!

[vintagewildlife]

Olm By: Terafs/Jacana Press Agency From: Éditions Rencontre Cards 1976

[unpretty]

May I get the dissertation on Beverly Hills Cop. Please.

andrew just turned on our bluray so i dug through my inbox to see if this ask was still here. however i'm not gonna do anything fancy, just liveblog obnoxiously.

ultimately it's an 80s cop movie so don't expect it to age well and not be that. it's still aged better than eddie murphy's delirious but that's not saying much (do not try to watch eddie murphy's early standup in 2023).

anyway first of all the theme song fucking rules, i'll never forgive crazy frog for what they did to this song (and also the many other crimes of that vile amphibian)

eddie murphy really carries this fucking movie. can you believe they wanted to give this to stallone??? fucking imagine. he wanted to be a cool guy named snake who drove cool cars. we can't be in the worst of all possible universes because that didn't happen and he stuck all his bad ideas in cobra (1986). allegedly he quit over a disagreement about orange juice, which is probably not true but is very funny to imagine. every anecdote you've ever heard about a funny scene being improvised actually came from this movie, i think. this might be the only movie where that's true. the original script is, according to Everyone, fucking dire. it was actually twelve scripts clumsily pasted together. they had no choice but to let a bunch of feral comedians run wild and waste miles of film because they kept making each other laugh. it was the only way to salvage anything out of that script.

i know what i just said about the script but the beginning of the movie is a fucking masterclass in efficient storytelling. every beat conveys multiple important points of information. you meet axel doing an illegal deal and. okay the part where a cop car slowly comes up behind them in the alley while they're arguing about money is extremely funny. there's a whole fucking chase scene before they reveal that axel was a cop the whole time which really sets the tone. this man is a con artist. he's doing his own thing. everyone's sick of his shit. he'd be extremely good at his job if his job was being a wacky vigilante and not a fucking cop.

they introduce A Mysterious Figure From His Past whose whole deal establishes that axel actually was a criminal, and he's got criminal friends, and those friends were so good they took the fall for his ass. they love him! he loves them!! he owes his whole scummy life to this guy!!! it makes it good and devastating when he fucking dies, and yeah, sure, of course axel is going to travel to beverly hills to avenge his dead friend. the scene is set, it took very little time, it told you very little directly. all things i enjoy.

from here on out a major source of tension is the fundamental difference in policing between a poor black city and a rich white city. they deliberately designed the beverly hills police department set to look like a private security firm for rich people. they had to invent the concept of gps, which did not exist, for these bougie cops. axel expects to be able to get away with a lot more than he does. he expects the cops to put up with a lot less than they do. the scene where bogomil makes taggart apologize to axel and asks if axel wants to press charges is cringe as fuck for how it makes this look ridiculous and not fully fucking reasonable to expect a cop not to punch a guy, even if he's being annoying on purpose. but it's important to establish the level of culture shock this is for axel, who has never in his life seen a white officer experience a consequence (he personally experiences many consequences).

if axel foley were played by a white man there is a 100% chance there would have been a romantic subplot with his lady friend who worked for the same rich asshole as their murdered friend. we're all clear on that, right? like. i enjoy the lack of a romantic subplot, but we all know why that's missing, right? they did not leave jenny single for girl power reasons.

allegedly bronson pinchot didn't tell anyone he was going to do that fucking accent in the art gallery scene until they were already filming. i feel like that scene is just two men trying to get each other to break on camera. anyway pinchot got a gig on perfect strangers because of it so good call buddy.

fucking. taggart and rosewood. john ashton and judge reinhold. fucking perfect. they were teamed up in the audition and instead of acting like cops they acted like an old married couple and the genius doing casting was like "yes perfect" and they got the job and also stuck the audition scene in the movie. the part where rosewood talks about all the red meat in your bowels. excellent. i love them. rosewood being the by-the-book cop because he's a rookie while taggart is rougher around the edges is so good. rosewood actually having a blast and really wanting to tell the fun story of how axel distracted them with food delivery and stuck bananas in their tailpipe is so good. damon wayans is credited as "banana man". there are no small roles in this life.

and the movie does my favorite thing, which is establish that taggart and rosewood and even bogomil actually are competent. they don't seem like it because axel is there literally sticking bananas in tailpipes, but they ARE good at their jobs. the strip club scene? they could have made it another "axel foley is the coolest cop" scene where he brings that guy down. but instead the other cops see that he's onto something and follow his lead.

the "supercops" scene is great because ashton fucking breaks. you can see him break. he is trying so hard not to break but it's too fucking funny.

there are multiple scenes where axel fucks up and it's always because he's actually very emotional and upset about his fucking friend getting murdered by a rich guy who expects no consequences. all of his major fuckups are because he really cannot stand that guy being a smug asshole about it. the scene at the country club is the one i could most stand to cut, but it's important for establishing axel's rage and also hubris. he is angry and he is impatient and he KNOWS this motherfucker is up to something. he wants to ruin this man's life. he wants to humiliate him. he doesn't care if it's legal. however you couldn't lose this scene without also losing "this all happened the last time i parked here" so it has to stay. also the part where axel pretends to be gay and implies he gave another man herpes as a con hasn't aged well. i still laughed, but, you know. i recognize it for what it is.

there's such a good scene with bogomil. where he's like. axel. for the love of god. give me something. you are clearly an intelligent man and you clearly think you are onto something. we are on the same side here. what the fuck is going on. and axel lays it all out and bogomil is like "that all sounds very plausible but you have jack shit for evidence, we are going to try to find evidence so we can do something about this LEGALLY" and then it's made clear that he is also beholden to authorities, specifically an appointed official who is very much on the side of wealthy shitheads. "i wanna be a good cop but politicians won't let me" is horseshit but as a narrative device it's a good one. definitely preferable to that bbc sherlock "i am a genius, let's establish this by surrounding me with bumbling morons" approach. i mean it's true that cops are all bumbling morons but it's bad storytelling if your main character is also, literally or figuratively, a fucking cop.

rosewood being talked into helping because he's young and really wants to do good is also good. is there axel foley/billy rosewood fanfic? there must be. rosewood is smitten with axel. you can see it. axel tells rosewood to think of him whenever he gets out of the shower. the signs are all there. where was i. jenny's insistence on participating (because she ALSO wants to avenge her dead friend) creates an unfortunate damsel situation, but that works out because the instant a white lady is in danger that creates all the incentive the plot needs for the cops to be useful. did you know she was an amateur bodybuilder? they should have let her kick ass.

then at the end when bogomil is like. hello boss. i have an explanation for everything that you cannot disprove. which is bad! they killed a man and are falsifying a police report. but also it's an axel move and that makes it okay because it's movies. axel convincing bogomil to talk to his boss by threatening to stay in beverly hills is a quality gag.

there's an alternate universe where the character does that and becomes a private eye and we get a procedural tv show out of it. apparently that almost happened. instead we got beverly hills cops two and three, which aren't as good, because they were actual movies with real scripts and not just bizarre fever dreams assembled from scraps of action movies that no one wanted to make glued together by comedians wasting film with some of the best one-liners you've ever heard.

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Identity Pt 2

Part (2) of Identity, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Thought about holding onto this another night, but I could use some dopamine after some work bs that happened today (which is also why I only barely started catching up on all the comments and tags today before going quiet again... sorry - I'll try to respond to everyone tomorrow ❤️). It's only lightly proofread, and I'm apparently favoring shorter chapters currently. Also, I finished this from my phone, so sorry if formatting got weird

Warnings: Brotherly fighting, talk of hunting, nightmares with reference to gore/torture, heavy tension, profanity

WC: 2,379

“I knew you’d done something!” Sinker shouted, hand lashing out to roughly push Boost’s shoulder hard enough to nearly knock him from the couch. Boost was laughing too hard to defend himself, with Comet and I not far behind at the retelling of the Sergent’s unfortunate encounter with a slew of too curious gorgs. The thought of the stern man being relentlessly assaulted by the small, brightly colored amphibians, utterly oblivious to the pungent pheromone his brother had slathered on his armor as he trudged through the swamps of Naboo was a gift in itself.

“It… it was just a drop!” Boost barely managed to respond.

“Where’d you even get it?” Comet asked, voice strained as he tried to compose himself.

“It was… it was all over the markets – easiest way to hunt them.”

The lights were still too bright and the seats too soft, but the familiarity of this, of carefree laughter and unapologetic teasing was the perfect balm to an ache I’d nearly grown accustomed to. I sat lounging against Comet on a love seat caddy corner to where Boost and Sinker were seconds away from a one-sided brawl despite how near they were to the table holding their long forgotten, disassembled blasters. Wolffe had vanished elsewhere in the ship after relinquished the pilot’s chair to Warthog, decidedly ignoring the man’s grumbles about the apparently lacking capabilities of the civi transport, and Sinker had volunteered the explanation that the General was too well known to join us lest his presence attract the wrong attention.

“Hey, hey!” I cried out when Sinker’s foot bumped the table, darting forward to grab the corner before it could fall. “If you knock this down, I’m not helping you find all the pieces!” The attempt at a feigned reprimand was lost beneath the richness of my lingering glee. Boost sent his brother a toothy grin that only worsened the man’s scowl as he reluctantly returned his attention to his weapon.

“He doesn’t listen to me when I try to get him to get him to calm down.” Comet’s grumbled murmur drew a final chuckle from me as I pressed fondly against him. “It’s late. We should probably turn in.” He sighed after a few seconds of stillness, and I tried not to note the way my heart dropped.

“Yeah.” I relented, fighting the way my jaw threatened to tense at the thought of forcing myself to close my eyes, of the noises awaiting me in the coming silence. With a deep breath, I leaned away from the gentle man at my back, ignoring the brief moment of hesitation, the way I could feel his gaze linger on me as I got to my feet.

The ship was designed to allow each passenger their own room, but that privacy had thoughtlessly been forgone in favor of using those rooms for additional storage. The minimal space allotted for each hastily installed, wall mounted cot was a thing I’d long since become accustomed to with these men and spared no hesitation before taking the bunk below Sinker’s, but rest refused to grant me escape.

It was strange not having Crosshair’s arms around me, not hearing Wrecker’s snores or seeing the faint glow of Tech’s datapad. This squad would always have my love and trust, but the familiar sense of home no longer resonated in their presence, and after everything that had happened in the past months, I found myself desperate for that comfort long after noting the unmistakable cadence of sleep lengthening their breaths, and forced my eyes closed if only to feign joining them.

It's not real.

Crimson coated my hands.

It’s not real.

Blackened skin marked exactly where my pistol fire tore between the joints.

“This is your fault.”

Wet coughs sent waves of blood spilling down his chin.

Please tell me this isn’t real.

It didn’t matter how hard I pressed against the gaping wound in his chest.

“You did this.”

How tightly I bound the tourniquet.

“Traitor.”

How certain I was that this isn’t how it happened as the echo of dislocating fingers reverberated sickeningly around me.

Stop, stop, stop, stop.

False memories of my fist slamming into my brother’s face orchestrated by endless apologies.

“I’m not your brother.”

The look of hatred in his eyes as my finger tightened around the trigger.

“Ple-”

My body jerked violently away from the hand settling lightly atop my arm, diaphragm seizing to drag air into lungs burning with suffocation as my head snapped around in search of the source of that touch. And I froze. There was such stillness in those mismatched eyes as he looked at me, a silent understanding that threatened to break what miserable grip I had on keeping the sobs at bay.

Without a word, he stood back, shoulders weighted beneath the same sorrow and regret I knew I’d never be free of, face carefully neutral as he started silently toward the cockpit. I glanced hesitantly over the familiar forms lying atop the cots across from me, relieved to find no signs that I’d woken them in my fit before forcing myself to take several deep breaths and pushing myself to my feet.

Wolffe didn’t look at me as I slipped into the copilot’s seat, knees automatically tucking to my chest. The controls were different, the colors of the panels and the shape of the viewport nothing like the GAR ship we once frequented, but that feeling, the unrushed quiet between us as our thoughts settled and we felt drawn to speak for the comfort of connection in the stead of some need to fill the silence with empty, frantic words… there was such gentleness in that feeling that I couldn’t help but let the tension begin to slip from my stiff form.

“What happened?” He didn’t turn from the dancing hues of blue illuminating the darkness of space as his voice hung softly in the filtered air.

“A lot.” I whispered, granting myself a moment longer to remember how to speak, how to condense the need to purge everything, every violent emotion and overwhelming memory into words and sentences. “My brother’s dead.” From the corner of my eyes, I saw the initial surge of grief hesitantly shift into confusion, brows pulling subtly together though he didn’t push me to explain.

“He enlisted… or was drafted, I don’t know how exactly, but…” I watched that grief return in an instant, jaw tensing as his eyes closed.

“Devaron.” I should have been surprised, should have found myself wondering over the simple fact that he was familiar enough with my past missions to reach that conclusion, but it was almost a relief to not have to explain further, replying only with a small nod.

“I’m sorry.” His voice quieted, lips just threatening to pull into a scowl as his mind worked over what he’d just learned.

“I tried to save him… but I didn’t realize who he was until it was too late. He…” My throat tightened, and I had to let out a slow breath before I could continue. “He blamed me… When he saw me in that armor…” I found myself shaking my head as I shifted to rest my chin atop my knees. “He hated me, Wolffe…” That barely murmured sentence lingered far too long after tumbling from my lips, and I felt it grow heavier with each second of silence that followed.

“You want me to tell you it wasn’t your fault?” There could have been a harsh bluntness to those words. They could have been filled with boredom or impatience or pity, but they weren’t. He asked only because he thought I needed to hear the question, to hear how doubtless he was in his own conviction that I might remember how to breathe before my guilt destroyed me.

“No.” I answered quietly. Still, logic offered little comfort in the face of raw emotion. “But that doesn’t exactly make me feel better.”

“Your brother died.” He stated simply, and my chest bucked at hearing that horrible truth spoken by another. “You’re not going to feel better. Not for a long time.” I knew how clearly the sorrow shone through my eyes as I finally turned to look at him, and I hated him for the honesty in his words just as much as I loved him for offering no false hope or empty platitudes.

“And your last mission? Can’t say I believe Hunter’s excuse of your ship needing repairs.”

“Clearly.” I retorted, glancing pointedly at the ship around us, but the intensity of his gaze didn’t waver, unphased by my feigned jab, and I had to turn away, teeth catching at my lip.

“One of my men got caught.” My voice sank into a quiet whisper, as though it might keep me from hearing my own words as I forced myself to answer him. “He was trapped. I don’t even think the guy who was did it was even a Separatists… pretty sure he was just a merc.” My tongue dragged haltingly over suddenly dry lips, heart racing at the memory of that fight; and the screams still echoing over the low hum of the engines.

“He wouldn’t free him… wouldn’t tell me how to get him out… not until I made him tell me.” Jaw taut beneath the effort to keep my breath steady, I turned back to him. “You want to tell me that wasn’t my fault, either? That I had no choice other than to torture him? That I couldn’t have found a way to cut the power or bribe him or hold off until help arrived?” It infuriated me how perfectly still Wolffe remained, expression locked in that passive stare.

“Do you think I give a damn that you tortured some money-hungry civi to save a brother? You think I’d do any less to save you? That any of us would do any less?”

“Do you think granting me permission makes me feel less like a monster?” I shot back, unable to chase the hint of a snarl from my face.

“This is war, kid.” He replied, a gentle apology woven through the softly spoken words. I felt the urge to snap at him threatening to wrench my lips into a scowl, felt my heart balk at the simplicity of his statement and how crudely that simplicity contrasted with the horrors it represented, but I allowed no reprieve in vying for some way to deny myself the forgiveness implied in that putrid truth, no release of my fury and guilt and hatred by arguing purely for the sake of flinging shouted insults absent thought beyond the base need to lash out.

I could feel him watching me as I forced myself back under some façade of control, but something seemed to shift, a heaviness that held the same tension I’d noted in him the day prior, and I found myself quieting my breath as I waited for him to speak.

“And the thing with the toothpick… how long’s that been going on?” It took barely a second to realize what he meant, what he knew, and my entire body froze, eyes widening as the air caught in my chest, mind racing too quickly for me to grasp onto a single thought long enough to make sense of the waves of dread and guilt and confusion.

“Closet doors don’t hide thermo-signatures.” He explained, voice carefully void of emotion, and my heart dropped. The damn closet. Cody must have already planned to speak to Wolffe immediately after his meeting with me to confirm the mission status… Of course, he would have been nearby…

“I… I don’t think that’s any of your business, Wolffe.” I said quietly, trying to force some measure of indifference into my voice.

“Is that so?” There was a darkness in those short words as he shifted just enough to catch my gaze from the corner of that pale cybernetic.

“No.” I stated more firmly, back straightening as I turned fully toward him. “It hasn’t been for a while… not since you let them take off this squad.” His brows drew together above eyes failing to hide the beginnings of anger.

“Is that what you think happened?” He asked, shoulders pulling back slightly.

“Isn’t it?” This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have with him. These thoughts and fears and insecurities were never meant to be given breath, yet I couldn’t seem to stop them lest the conversation return to something far more dangerous.

“Did you ever tell them ‘no’?” The instant I saw the flash of remorse dart through him, I felt something break in me as I realized I was right. “Did you even try to fight for me?” I barely whispered as a fresh surge of devastation flooded my veins with ice. He didn’t need to speak for his answer to scream between us, and I couldn’t begin to hide the betrayal and raw hurt left in its wake.

“You didn’t… You just let them…” Some vain hope for denial forbade me from finishing the thoughts, silently pleading for him to prove me wrong, but he offered no whisper of reassurance.

“You were all I had, Wolffe…” I could hear how the words clawed up my throat amidst tears I refused to let fall. “I was… I was so… so scared, and you just let them take me away?” He refused to turn from me as the reality I thought I knew shattered. I wanted to ask “why,” wanted to shout and rage and sob, but that time had long since passed. Drawing a sharp, unsteady breath into my lungs, I finally turned from him, gaze trailing blindly across the control panel.

“No… What I do now… who I spend my time with… it’s none of your business.” It felt as though I were talking more to myself than to him, and the new silence that fell between us held none of that gentle familiarity that had seen me through some the worst moments of my life. For the first time, I couldn’t bring myself to stay, every cell demanding I flee from his presence. With another deep breath, I pushed myself to my feet, unable to even glance at him as I began walking away.

Next Chapter

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