#Hot off the press

[markscherz]

Meet Uroplatus garamaso, a new leaf-tailed gecko from Madagascar!

Uroplatus garamaso are absolute masters of camouflage. During the day, they rest with their heads down and fringes expanded, rendering them practically invisible. Here, I have revealed the outline of the gecko against the tree trunk. As you can imagine, that makes them pretty difficult to spot in the wild.

Fortunately, at night, they wake up and prowl the branches, and can often be found up to a few metres off the ground hunting for invertebrates.

This remarkable gecko has been known about for over 20 years, and has even been in the pet trade for well over a decade. But only now have we finally amassed enough information on it to be able to formally describe it and give it a name. The trouble was that it is extremely similar to Uroplatus henkeli, which is also found nearby. The key to distinguishing them turned out to be the colour of the eye, and the tip of the tongue, which is pink in U. garamaso (left), and blackish in U. henkeli (right).

These geckos open their mouths as a warning signal, so looking at this feature is quite easy. But we are not sure why the mouth colour so often differs between species. Some more behavioural studies are needed.

The new species was described on 15 August 2023 in the Open Access journal Salamanadra. You can read the paper here.

#science #new species #animals #zoology #news #hot off the press #Uroplatus #gecko #lizard #Uroplatus garamaso #Uroplatus henkeli

[alakeeffectboy]

new pics from the Warsaw show!!!!!!

#HOT OFF THE PRESS #patrick stump #fall out boy #tourdust

[vellichorsmystique]

Tea in a Bar

⭒ Husk x gn!reader

⭒ w.c. ~1.9k

⭒ Meant to be read as a sort of pre-relationship ficlet. Just a silly little drabble I needed to get out of my system. Mainly fluff, implied (?) angsty undertones at some point, there is comfort.

⭒ No use of y/n... I mean Alcohol is mentioned? So fair warning for that, reader themself doesn't drink anything of the sort in this specific fic. No spoilers in terms of the Hazbin Hotel series.

⭒ A new sinner in the hotel only means another headache for Husk to endure as he listens through drunken rambles. However that doesn't appear to be the case as this specific sinner tends to just bask in his presence. There's not much to go on, and as much as he should be wary of them, he can't help but be intrigued.

The newest guest is strange. The thought brazenly bounces around Husks skull, as he discreetly flashes a few wary glances at the figure sitting at the bar top. He elects to ignore the fact that today's version of “discreetly” translated into occasionally looking up (to oogle) from the glass he had currently been wiping dry before peering back down. He also decides not to fixate on the truth that this is the same shot glass he had picked up an hour ago. 

It’s uncanny really, how can you sit there so serene, eyes closed in something akin to bliss? Husk is openly staring at you once more, mouth slanting into some sort of neutral frown, as you shifted in your spot on the flimsy stool. Every night without fail since your first appearance at the hotel, you seemed to have made it your personal goal to purposely confuse him. Why? He has absolutely no clue. His proof? Non-existent. 

That wasn’t even the infuriating part, it was merely the fact that your actions were definitely not motivated by some extrinsic goal, it wasn’t like you actively had it out for him. Husk prided himself on his exemplary skills of reading people and while there was this air of mystique that surrounded the likes of you (all too comfortably familiar to the source of his chained ire) you weren’t trying to usurp his current life. At least not in the moment that is. 

Before he can grumble internally about the stupid predicament he found himself in he becomes all too aware of the warmth of your scrutiny. Damn, sure he was doing a piss poor job at sneaking peeks at you, but he didn’t actually think you’d catch him. However something about the mirth swimming your eyes clues him in on the embarrassing fact this probably was not your first time catching him. Your lips curl into a light smile, the corners barely twitching at what he assumed to be withheld laughter. 

“Is there something wrong?” Your words are less of a question and more of a tease which only prompts a withering glare in your direction. Almost foolishly he hopes it’s enough to ward you off, it’s not of course, and he’s proven once more how futile it is for a sinner to do something as silly as hope. Unperturbed by his nasty stink eye, you rest your head in your palm and raise a brow in goading fashion. Ear twitching he goes back to dutifully swiping the glass held in his paws. 

“Nothing, just stuck wondering why there’s a fucking weirdo sitting at my bar?” You have the gull to wave him off with a bark of laughter. 

“Me? Weirdo? Unlikely,” His brow furrows at that as he flashes you an unamused look. 

“More likely than you seem to think, who sits at the bar hours on end, and doesn’t order anything to drink,” He tried to keep up with the insult, however as he rasped out the words, he couldn’t hide the genuine curiosity that filtered in the latter half of his statement. Your laughter subsides, and you idly trace a fingertip on the grains of  the bartop, lips quirked in gaiety. 

“Touche, but I raise you this, who uses a dirty rag to clean their glasses?” Subject change, of course, he honestly shouldn’t be surprised. 

“That–’ and he raises the shotglass higher more forcibly twirling the gunk filled rag around on the inside, ‘is very much intentional,” 

“Hmm, and that is exactly why I don’t get drinks here,” Grinning you leaned back on the stool, palms flat against the wooden top as you loosened some sort of crick in your neck. Your tone is too pacifying and he doesn’t buy it. Nose scrunching he rolls his eyes, before resting his forearm on the bar, brows raised knowingly at you. 

“But that’s not the reason,” And there it is, the enigmatic grin that should probably push him away instead of drawing him in closer. Something swims in the depths of your eyes, something that one day he’ll decipher, but for now whatever you're hiding under lock and key stays indiscernible for today. 

“No it’s not,” You echo demurely. He groans, he was too sober for all of your mental gymnastics. The conversation lulls for a moment or two before you tilt your head towards the array of spirits and liqueurs  behind him.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any sort of tea?” Tea? Seriously? He doesn’t waste breath looking, instead just briskly focusing on his task at hand.

“No, this is a bar– not some sort of fucking cafe,” Sighing almost wistfully you slide off the barstool, and he regards your actions in surprise. 

“What a shame, it’s getting late anyways I think now is a good time to start turning in for the night regardless,” He grunts, blinking slowly, was that what it took to get you to leave? Tail cutting through the air, he shrugs his shoulders brushing the thought away. It’s not like he cared that much…. 

“Oh and Husk?” Your voice takes a suspicious lilt that has his ears twitching. 

“Despite your choice of dish towel I’m pretty sure that shot glass is clean enough, you’ve been holding it for what– an hour now?” He slams the aforementioned glass on the grainy top as your laughter fades, but the worst part is he’s not even annoyed by the fact you were aware. Yeah… you were a really fucking strange guest here. 

﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉

You take longer than normal to come sit at the bar. He ignores the discomfort that prickles at the realization. Just when he decides to go ahead and begin the methodical process of closing everything up for the night, he hears the lobby doors open. The sound echoes in the expanse of the empty lobby, and finally through slitted irises he can make out your silhouette tiredly plodding through. 

Back and shoulders hunched, you look withdrawn, a total one-eighty from your normally exuberant personality you always seemed to have when you pestered(read: visited) him. Footfalls heavy, the bar stool croaked when you finally settled over it. Yawning, your upper half pitched forward, and you pressed your face into your crossed arms on the table. 

“‘llo Husk,” the words are a mumbled and muffled mess emanating from the crook of your arm where your head was buried. If it weren’t for the ear he had angled in your general direction he probably would not have picked up on it. Frowning, he glanced down at his paws. Today was different, you never seemed like the type to “showcase” your more or less weak spots where others could see? Something in the sinner’s chest seizes up. Was this an inadvertent form of trust? Deciding not to dwell for too long on the implications for such an idea, he instead coughs out loud into his fist. Rather dramatically. 

“The fuck’s up with you?” And he hates the fact you’ll notice the bite gone from his voice. Almost petulantly your shoulders rise and fall, a vague impression of a shrug due to your current position. 

“Alright, not in a talking mood then, fine,” He gets it, and he wasn’t going to push or prod your boundaries just to satiate the itch of curiosity. Peripherals catching the tell tale sign of movement his slit pupils lock onto your own irises from where you angled your head to the side in order to properly look at him. Expression almost distraught, he can only watch the way you tug your lip against your teeth internally battling over something. Before you sniffle and rasp out quietly. 

“I just… don't want to be alone in my room right now,” The admission is point blank, no allusions, or disarming smiles to disguise the truth. Some remote part of his brain will probably play the vulnerability of this moment on replay when he’s alone in his bed, with a pillow to bury himself into. For now, he elects to breeze past the info, mentally tiptoeing around whatever aftershocks your bombshell just resulted in. 

“Well if ya don’t want to talk, then maybe you’ll want a drink instead,”  Your expression twists, and you move to sit up some sort of reply building on the tip of your tongue, before he is turning his back to you. When he’s facing you once more your eyes widen to see not a shot glass in his hand, but a teacup. It’s humorous really, the cup disproportionate to the size of his clawed fingertips, still he holds the most likely plastic chalice like it’s fine china. 

All too soon the cup is waiting to be sipped from in front of you, and Husk is left to tap a claw rhythmically as he waits for you to taste test it. You hands wrap reverently around the drink, and you bring it up closer in order to properly take a whiff. As you nurse the steaming cup in your grasp he can make out the light aroma of apples and some more floral notes. With his freehand he scratches at the fur on his nape, prickling as he awaits your verdict. 

“It’s uh…”

“Chamomile,” You softly answer for him, still entranced by the liquid.

“Yeah, that,” When you finally look at him your eyes are wide and mouth parted ever so slightly; you were looking at him as if what he just handed you was a free get into heaven ticket, and not some mediocre tea he had made in wait for you to arrive. He breaks eye-contact, blood roaring in his ears as goes back to tapping some sort of melody on the wood. You finally bring the vessel to your lips savoring the taste of the tea, and a syrupy sweet grin inches across your expression. Husk finds the grin to fit better than that frown from earlier. 

Tea long since finished, he found himself caught in idle chatter as he scrubbed away the days worth of muck and stains. This time armed with a moderately cleaner rag thanks to your insistence. Tone impossibly fond you spiel your thanks once more.

“Really Husk, thank you, the tea was the perfect pick-me-up,” 

“Ah, quit blowing it out of proportion. I didn't do much,” You only laugh once more at his vehemence in not accepting your gratitude. Humming thoughtfully, you straightened up as an idea struck. 

“You know…Chamomile is absolutely divine when mixed with Vodka,” Husk sends a prudent glance in your direction. Though you can practically see the interest he has in the idea with how he paused everything he was doing. Almost in accusation he raises an offending claw. 

“I thought you didn’t drink?” the cheeky grin you reply with almost has him roll his eyes. 

“I never said I didn’t, I just prefer my spirits mixed with tea. They tend to mesh deliciously,” The corners of his lips lift into a barely there crooked grin as he shakes his head. 

“No I guess you didn’t” he echoes in reply.  Before you leave, much later compared to the past, you mention something about green tea and whiskey. A combination he would have to try tomorrow when you would decide to visit the bar. Distantly he found himself looking forward to what would undoubtedly be more visits from you. All for the tea and booze of course…. And maybe just maybe you too.

⭒ end notes: guys I'm so rusty-- ignore any and all spelling/grammar mistakes it's almost 3am as of posting, and I have a 9am lecture tomorrow. Honestly HH has like become my new hyper fixation so maybe I'll write some more stuff for it we'll see. If not, guess I'll see ya'll again in nine months when I'm suddenly struck with the urge to write something </3 /hj I definitely want to be more active and make more indulgent things so I look forward to it!!

#Hot off the press #husk x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #fluff #comfort #gender neutral reader #x reader #Husk isn't even my favorite #I just had the visceral urge to get this out of my system :sobbing;

[coffinflop]

#hot off the press #zuko #prince zuko #avatar #atla #atla meme #like to slap his bald head #milestumblr #made this instead of sleeping bc there is a squirrel in my ceiling

[aamaranthiine]

Seafoam Dreams A summary of Amalthea's AU verse for One Piece. tagged as: ☪v: seafoam dreams sub-verses: sands of silver and gold || the lion's gilded cage. note: sub-verses are established and separate storylines within the one piece canon for select mutuals of mine. all other threads within this au are still separate from each other unless otherwise discussed.

Amalthea originally hails from a sky island that once orbited the Red Line and the North Blue, where she was born and raised in a small community consisting of a melting pot of Lunarian individuals, avian minks and humans. It was peaceful and reasonably self sufficient, though her memories of her birthplace are long faded by the current canon.

At the age of fifteen, her island was ransacked and her family either killed or captured by the Government for use in experimentats on those of Lunarian blood. Amalthea escaped and ended up on what is in current times Rubeck Island of the North Blue. It was there she found and ate her devil fruit before being adopted into the kingdom that made the island their home.

For just around ten years, she was kept safe by the people and the royal family. Until circumstances arose that once again attracted the attention of the World Government, whose assault on the island forced her to flee into the Blue.

This becomes a pattern throughout her life; she had to learn to be elusive, keep secrets, how to hide and protect herself. How to weave the most believable lies. Even the seemingly most mundane people could not be trusted, for the fear they would be complicit in allowing the Navy to find her trail again.

At current canon, pre and post timeskip, Amalthea has been alive for over 350 years. That is a lot of history to cover but suffice to say, she is a master at surviving on her own and avoiding unwanted attention most of the time. She has taken her time to travel all four Blues and the Grand Line, exploring the far corners of the world in her search for safe havens, knowledge and useful connections. There have been portions of Time throughout the decades she has spent hidden entirely from people; to cope with the burdens of immortality, she shuts herself away to sleep or to exist outside of her humanity.

For the present day, she tends to go by the alias Thea and is known throughout underground and black market channels by the alias Luna. She is a freelance cartographer (mapmaker), navigator and log pose artificer. It is usually her and a few others work that supply poses for pirates and other non-Government affiliated individuals traveling the Grand Line and the New World. She has many contacts and connections throughout the world, and tends to maintain a neutral alignment when dealing with pirates.

The nature of her Lunarian heritage is kept very well hidden; as with no wings and no soul-flame visible, she easily passes as human. Her mythical zoan devil fruit is also kept secret, or passed off as a different type altogether through half-truths and selective use of her Ability. Her presence to those with keen Observation haki lends to the idea she is only a civilian, and never anything close to a threat.

All of course, a masterfully crafted ruse to protect herself.

#out of woods [ooc] #official verse summary drop #hot off the press #☪v: seafoam dreams [summary] #☪verse: one piece #i'm slowly gathering my thoughts and notes about this au #and more posts will come detailing specifics about amalthea's story

[r4cs0]

Lol

#hot off the press #obese #haes #twitter

[bakersstreetirregulars]

Now scheduled for launch on March 15, 2024

Pre-register for Cookie Run: Witch’s Castle for 1,500 Crystals and 500 Rainbow Cubes in Cookie Run: Kingdom

#cookie run #cookie run witch’s castle #yes this is official #gingerbrave #the witch #gingerbright #vampire cookie #strawberry cookie #wizard cookie #dozer #dozer cookie #hot off the press #angel cookie #Youtube #first cream cookie

[zenaidamacrouras1]

Chapter 1 is up!

Will update sort of weekly!

Bucky is a civil rights attorney and Steve is Captain America and they both are busy with their important careers and they are also both VERY HANDSOME and competent and should definitely kiss. But will they kiss? Gaaahhhh! I don't know!

May contain: Slow burn, like, for real (for real, will they actually kiss?) (I know you have seen the tag slow burn, but I need y’all to understand I really mean it this time). Extremely petty sibling fights. Very tired attorneys. Acknowledgement of the existence of scorpions. Extensive discussion of the 14th Amendment of the US Constitution. The Avengers all living in the tower and the exact timing in the MCU world being *hand waves*

Warnings for: canon typical superhero violence, period typical (the period being present day) transphobia and homophobia. The existence of transphobia and homophobia are central to the plot, but there is no gratuitous detail of people being shitty. Extensive discussion of legislation against gender-affirming care (specifically: the characters are trying to stop such legislation).

#New Stucky #SteveBucky #Shrunkyclunks #stucky fanfiction #Hot off the press

[electric-friend]

#izzy hands #ofmd #our flag means death #con o'neill #the last seduction ii #HOT OFF THE PRESS #new gifs bitches

[chopcult]

Check out the latest issue of Greasy Kulture here 

#gkm #chopcult #hot off the press

[thelastgoldfish]

I love you I love you I love you

Sometimes, it’s not who you can be happy with but who you could never live without. It's who you love like you're trying to make up for lost time; every touch an apology, every kiss a lament, an 'I'm sorry that I haven't been with you for every day of our lives' Loving you feels like a tidal wave. Every moment with you, I feel as if I'm drowning but I swear I'll learn how to swim.

#poetry #spilled ink #poems and poetry #excerpts from a book i'll never write #writing #female poets #tag tag tag #pls interact #books and libraries #poem of the day #love poem #worthless rubbish #random #tags upon tags #ahhHHHH #love #obsession #limerence #hot off the press #writeblr #creative writing #writers on tumblr

[tigerboss]

#hot off the press #og meme

[vellichorsmystique]

Promise me another day with you

⭒ serval landau x gn!reader

⭒ w.c. +1.2k

⭒ comfort one-shot with angst undertones, a dash of fluff as well

⭒ no warnings... uh reader calls serval sev as a nickname, no use of y/n, minor/vague spoilers for the honkai star rail story line 

⭒ One moment she was there, the next she was gone, hailed as a hero for sacrifice. But what about the friend she left behind? Or I’m doing the Serval companion quest and let me just say the abandonment issues are strong in this girl, so this is my take on her dynamic with her partner (you <3)

Neverwinter is unusually quiet- save for the incessant ticking of decorative machinations. Cogs twisting against the laws of nature resonant in their grinding noise. However that is all, it’s off putting in nature really. Normally when you would finally trudge into the mechanical workshop in the late hours of the frigid night it would be accompanied by the strums of an eclectic guitar, along with an array of excited whispers and murmurs on lyric composal ideas. Tiredly stepping further into the workshop, you couldn’t help the frown tugging at your lips, a familiar blonde head of hair was slumped against the counter. Turned to the side, and was intensely focused on a rugged polaroid photo.

Hesitance held you back, was something wrong? Unless you had gotten dates mixed up Pela should be here for the ladies rock ‘n roll practice. Before you can attempt to get lost in your thoughts even further Serval sits up, and looks around her shop before her eyes land on you. The air stills for a moment, and you can’t help but feel your nerves act up, locking your still form into place. Electric blue eyes crinkle at the bottom as a relieved smile covers her features, instantly she’s bolting from behind the work table. Carefully avoiding tripping over random projects and wayward nuts and boots. Before gathering you solidly in her arms.

“You’re ok!” Her arms snake around your waist and her chin digs into the dip of your shoulder. The smell of oil and rust tickles your nose, and it takes all your willpower not to sneeze. Startling slightly, you return the gesture in a much more subdued manner compared to her, but she seems to appreciate the sentiment if the sigh of her relief is any indicator to go by.

Time stops as the warmth of Serval surrounds you, it’s overwhelming and positively overflowing, enough to combat the rugged cold of the eternal freeze of Belobog (in your humble opinion) and you relish in it. All too soon the embrace ends, and Serval proceeds to hover over you, calloused fingertips ghosting over the skin of your face. Before promptly cradling your cheeks, critically inspecting every ounce of your form.

“Sev…,” chiding lightly, you rest your dominant hand over one of her own, curling your fingers to rest on her palm. In a common display of stubbornness she ignores you in favor of squishing your face slightly.

“Are you alright? Lil bro, let me know about your group's fragmentum expedition, you’re not hurt are you?” Tittering over you, Serval still had yet to relax her grip. It wouldn’t do either of you good if she continued this bout of worry, so you rolled your eyes fondly.

“Relax Sev, the trip had zero encounters. I'm fine as can be… besides you know the captain would rather go against his orders than face your wrath,” the woman pauses slightly before laughing suspiciously. Taking a step back she suddenly began avoiding your gaze.

“Aha… so you know about that?”

“Mhm, I should be offended as a Silvermane Guard that you threatened my captain on not sending me out into dangerous turf, but I guess it was a rather endearing effort,” nonplussed you walk past her to lean against the work table she was previously behind, a teasing smile blossoming on your expression. Seeing you weren’t mad, Serval huffed out loud following in pursuit of your retreat, there’s a gentle smile dawning her curved lips and you can’t help but think it belongs there.

Neither of you spoke content to just coexist in silence, side by side. However it doesn’t take you long to notice the thin furrow of her brow, years of being together does that sometimes though. Makes you keenly attuned to your partner- and her to you of course. So you thread your fingers through hers the action most familiar, and idly trace a thumb over her knuckles. If she wanted to talk, you would listen, and if she didn’t, you would offer comfort.

“You’re tired aren’t you?” A subject change? Abstaining from pointing out the obvious, you instead lean against her humming in confirmation.

“Let’s get you to bed then,”

﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉

Nimble fingers trace indiscernible figures along your back: figure eights, lopsided hearts, and sometimes words of affirmation too. You seem to be teetering in between the brinks of consciousness and true REM. Warm breaths of air breeze against Serval's collar bone. The geomarrow heater hums in function, a warm orange glow emanating from its grated opening. It sputters slightly, she’ll have to tinker with it tomorrow… a sly smile takes over as she casts her gaze on your face. She could totally use it as an excuse to hold you closer although- you’d probably see through her schemes. It was a talent really, how often and how quickly you would figure it out. Nothing ever escaped your keen eyes when it came to the whims of herself, yet you know just when to back off. If today was any indication of the blissful understanding you regarded her with.

An old photo sits abandoned on a grainy table top, the corners of the image have long since faded away due to a bout of improper care of the delicate item. Even through wear and tear the three figures huddled in the middle of the frame are as clear as day. Serval is in the middle, lips pressed against your grinning cheeks, and her other arm hooked around a regal looking Cocolia. An innocuous photo- one that preserves the memory of good times.

It’s dumb really how caught Serval found herself, sitting and staring at that image willing the minutes by in a festering bout of worry. It’s unfair the thought bristles unbridled in her mind that she has already lost someone to that godforsaken stellaron…. She can’t lose you too. The thought is despondent, and it’s to her heavy sigh that she finally settles on something.

A meek whisper into the quietude of the darkened room, lips curving as the syllables of your name filtered through her voice. For a moment, she believes you to be asleep, but you groan out groggily in reply. Stirring and blinking slowly to adjust your sight, nose brushing against her chin you finally rasp out.

“Sev?” You are unable to make out her exact expression, but there isn’t really any time to dwindle on when she gathers your hands into her own, soft lips pressing gentle kisses on your fingertips. A brow raised in silent questioning, Serval finally speaks up her gaze piercing your own.

“I trust you, so I trust that you will be careful no matter what- that way you can always come back home to me,” the words come out small, so unlike the usual confident tone she uses when she speaks. Although miffed by her loaded question you don’t take long to answer.

“Of course Serval… I promise,” The blonde seemed to sigh in relief, shoulders shagging as she pressed her forehead against yours. When all is said and done, and the two of you are entwined once more atop the bed, Serval allows her fingers to trace up and down your arm. Before holding your hand firmly once more. She finds her mind blissfully empty and purely content. Comfortable in the presence of you, and the assurance that you would not disappear before her very eyes.  

⭒ end notes uhm this was mainly made for my moot on my main blog hehe <3 @cxlrose hope you like it :)

#Hot off the press #serval landau x reader #serval landau #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #fluff #comfort #x reader #gender neutral reader #serval is so so pretty

[danse-gang]

#danse’s microsoft paint 3D creation #fire emblem engage #fire emblem #memes image #fresh memes #hot off the press #hot off the meme press #fire emblem heroes

[consistentsquash]

TL;DR - A really beautiful fic which uses fourteen creation myths to show how Rhaenyra’s relationship with Daemon changes. It will break your heart. But it’s also going to make you feel everything you knew you are capable of feeling. Plus some new emotions. This is the ASOIAF fic for you if you want to feel. Definitely the best Daemyra fic I have read so far.

Need another reason to read it? - Because this is Rhaenyra’s Paradise Lost/Fall of Lucifer story. Because she sees it happening and realizes what’s going on. There is probably nothing more tragic than somebody who is seeing their own fall happening in real time. They start getting attached to the good things, they start getting afraid of whatever good stuff they have going on because they know they are going to lose it soon and it becomes this horrible self fulfilling prophecy.

Need yet another reason to read it? - Because the best tragedy is an epic romance with epic storytelling payoffs. Morals, ethics, religion, philosophy which go totally out the window because the human heart in conflict. Selfishness and sacrifice both happening because of the same reason. This is somebody watching the destruction of her family and a whole civilization with the  knowledge that her actions/choices led here.  

Need more reasons to read it? - Because the structure of the fic is absolutely brilliant.  This isn’t writing. This is something else. It’s like music. Definitely don’t have the right word to explain. It’s powerful, evocative and builds the layers to deliver something absolutely stunning and unique. It won’t be a fandom favorite because of the complexity of the fic. But it is definitely  craftsmanship at its absolute best.  This is somebody who gets the fantasy genre tropes/beats and it really shows.

Need even more reasons to read it? - the prose! The prose is  something special and beautiful.

Normally I pull some quotes from the fic. But I don’t even know where to start with this fic! It’s just. Literally everything is worth quoting.

"Aerion was a boy born in the Valyrian hills. He fell in love with dragonlore. He abandoned his people and took to the caves. There, he pilfered a dragon-egg and began carrying it about with him everywhere. It hatched for him. Karnax, he named the dragon. They were the closest of friends. They hunted together and slept together. Karnax grew, as dragons grow. Aerion could no longer keep up with his friend. Seeing Aerion's grief, Karnax allowed the boy to mount him. Aerion became the first dragon-rider. And thus came about the doom of the dragons, when one allowed a man to mount him in friendship. It did not take long before men rode them to war. Friendship turned to claim, and claim to gyve."

Summary - Fourteen songs she sings to him.

Length - 16500 words. Complete.

Rating - M

Pairing - Daemon/Rhaenyra

#hot off the press #daemyra #daemyra fic rec #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #hotd fic recs #asoiaf fic recs #medium length fics #omg what even is this fic #because it slays #the best daemyra fic i read so far #stunning #a really beautiful example of the fantasy genre #tropes for good #reccing a fic like this is literally oof #not me reading like 400 wikipages to write this rec

[garrusvakarain]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Mass Effect Trilogy, Mass Effect - All Media Types Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian Characters: Female Shepard (Mass Effect), Garrus Vakarian, James Vega Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Major Character Injury, the one in which garrus has no clue about how humans work, No Shepard Without Vakarian, Shakarian - Freeform, Blood and Injury, petition for a shepard goes to therapy dlc, PTSD, Shepard (Mass Effect) has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, One Shot, Mass Effect 3, Established Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort Summary:

When Shepard gets injured on a mission, Garrus attempts to help, but quickly realizes he has minimal knowledge of human physiology.

#mass effect #shakarian fic #shakarian #*banging pots and pans* EVERYONE WAKE UP NEW HURT/COMFORT FIC JUST DROPPED #HOT OFF THE PRESS #ok this one took forever to write for some reason #anyways enjoy friends #sarah.txt