#crows love a zip line

[i-think-i-should-go]

And you’ve gotten into several fights with Viago, who owns the zip line.

This is my Crow Rook, Chiara de Riva. Still playing through the game but if you want to see more of her, and all my DATV screenshots, please join me at @postcardsfromveilguard !

[postcardsfromveilguard]

A Crow takes flight

Really love the little touches in scenery like this School of Athens(?) inspired mural in Treviso.

[jccatstudios]

OMG JESPERS OUTFIT IS SO GOOD. JESPER IN GENERAL IS JUST SO GOOD YOUR DESIGNS ARE INCREDIBLE

Thanks!!! I love to design costumes and outfits so much. I'll take this as a oppurtunity to share some details from the Ch 3 illustration.

For this artwork, I wanted to feature my favorite garment (the leather jacket) and take the opportunity to draw the trio in more modern clothing.

For Jes, it's always about patterns. He's got three in this outfit, though I think he should have more to match his aesthetic. We've got warped checkerboard, cherries, and checkered hearts. The cherries weren't in the original plan, but I decided to add it because I love a good patterned lining (also a nod to a song on the playlist I'm working on for him).

And the riveted tie was a thing I found on pinterest. How cool is that?! I love rivets that don't have a function, especially on the side of jeans.

Each ring represents one of the characters! Green for Jesper, black for Kaz, and the braided one for Inej. This was probably my favorite part of the illustration due to the process. First, his hand was bright purple to make the brown overlay cooler but still keep some warmth to it. Then I used clear alcohol (0 for my fellow Copic users) to get the fine details on his nails.

If there's a chance to give Kaz some sort of crow wing motif on his back, I'll take it. The jacket is semi-backless, revealing a light purple ribbed sweater underneath. There are three layers to the wings: the short ones snap and zip to the second layer, which then is sewn into the waistband of the third layer. He also has a "KB" patch, opposite to his "R" tattoo on his right arm.

As for his pants, I gave him patchwork jeans as a nod to the ever-iconic "not so broken" passage in Chapter 38.

Inej's jacket is based on medieval knight armor, especially in the shoulder detailing. Some people have said it looks like a bird's beak at the top. Unintentional, but I thought that was a cool interpretation. While I didn't draw her real knives, I gave her a little one to go through her piercing. What book is in her backpack? I'll let you decide.

[shibaraki]

LOVE TO LOVE YOU ┊ MIDORIYA IZUKU

tags: NSFT, AFAB reader, established relationship, pro hero deku, fluff + smut, reunions, dry humping, vaginal oral + fingering (reader receiving), quirk use during sex (restraint; black whip), no power dynamic

wc: 2.2K

You surface slowly, coaxed into waking by the gentle invocation of your name. Uneven knuckles brush your cheek. The air retains some coolness, smelling faintly like late night petrichor, and beneath that a familiar musk that has your eyes fluttering open.

Crouched beside the couch is a silhouette haloed by the argent moonlight spreading across the otherwise dark living room. You must’ve accidentally fallen asleep. Inhaling deeply, you stretch your legs out across the cushions as your vision begins to focus.

“Hi,” Izuku whispers, wearing a tremulous smile. You blink, slowly drinking in the sight of him after a month apart. Mossy hair curls around his ears, a little longer and wilder than you remember. The shadows under his eyes are deeper. There’s a new line of scar tissue across his eyebrow, minor enough that it was left to heal naturally.

Where you take him into your hands your fingers find short stubble, a few days old. “You’re back,” you hear yourself match his volume, and the quiet forms an intimate bubble around the two of you. Izuku’s crows feet deepen as his smile grows, head tilted with a soundless laugh, and that helplessly fond expression falls over you like silk.

“I’m back,” he nods, covering your wrist with his hand and squeezing lightly as if to prove he was there.

He doesn’t look away from you, busy detailing the subtleties in your face like a man etching a moment into a memory. You realise there, under his loving scrutiny, that you haven’t changed your clothes; sprawled out in Izuku’s big worn hoodie and little underneath.

Izuku doesn’t mention it. There is not much more he can say that he hasn’t already said with his eyes. He sniffs and the bridge of his nose wrinkles. “Do you—can you hold me for a while?”

Your answer comes wordlessly and with open arms. Breath is knocked from your lungs at the weight that dives into your chest. Strong arms snake around your waist. Izuku tucks his face against your shoulder and shakes a little as you slide your fingers through his hair.

“I missed you,” you tell him.

He nods frantically into your hoodie, “Me too”.

The tension bleeds from his shoulders. Slumped deeper into your embrace you can see his suitcase and duffel bag left hastily by the dining table. You hum, gaze dragging toward his lower half hung over the edge of the couch, bent at an uncomfortable angle. “Come up here baby,” you rub at his shoulders and shift your hips to make room. Izuku lifts his head, dazed as he takes in the space between your legs. “Lay on top of me”.

Colour returns to his cheeks. A sleepy pink. He looks simultaneously flustered and pleased at the request. The cushions around you yield under his knees as he pulls himself up to settle between your thighs. Your fingers slip into his hair, back arched for the arms that snake around your waist. In resting his head on your chest Izuku presses every ounce that is him into every ounce that is you.

“There you go,” you breathe. Cradling the back of his skull your nails trace lightly over his scalp, delighting in the shiver that zips down his spine. He hums and you sink deeper into the couch. “You smell like rain. Were you okay getting home from the airport?”

A quiet arousal stirs in your lower belly as Izuku nuzzles your throat; however there is no desire to satiate it, not yet. You are content just to have him like this. Petal soft, you feel his lips move as he wryly replies, “Yoarashi-kun dried me off in the lobby”.

You curl a strand of hair around your forefinger and smirk, imagining him dumbstruck in a controlled gust of wind, “Is that why your hair can’t decide which direction it wants to go?”

Izuku laughs. The sound is low and breathless. It thaws you from the inside out. Gripped by affection your thighs squeeze at his waist and you hold him closer. His mirth tapers into even breathing and you fall into comfortable silence. Blanketed by his body you feel the gauzy lure into sleepiness. You fight the urge, wanting to savour his return, and knowing that if you surrender to it neither of you will make it to bed; consequently waking to a crick in your neck.

Clinging to consciousness you fill the spaces with the mundanity that was your month apart. Filing reports, meeting his mother for dinner, a determined Uraraka dragging Bakugo to karaoke kicking and screaming, taking the wrong train home. You don’t tell him about the cavernous ache in your chest when he’s gone. You don’t talk about how empty your bed feels without him in it. And you do not ask about the mission.

You can feel his long exhale on your neck. Lips parted to kiss your jaw before bracing on his elbows, looming over you with a besotted look that you can never truly grasp being on the end of. Izuku brings your foreheads together and you wet your lips.

“I missed you,” he says, voice deepened with a thick sort of intent.

“So you’ve said,” a lazy smile unfurls, your hand at the nape of his neck bringing him in closer. His nose nudges your cheek and lips brush, lingering there for a few drawn out seconds, sharing in desire.

You tilt ever so slightly to close the distance and kiss him. His mouth is wind bitten, anxiety bitten, it’s gentle and innocent and you feel as his smile grows. Izuku answers with fervour, nipping at your lower lip, kissing each corner, humming a satisfied sound when you welcome him in. Kissing Izuku is like black and white—two extremes, never done halfway. There’s the chaste, romantic kiss on his way to work, a kiss he sorely refuses to go without, and there’s this; it’s voracious, needy and shamelessly wet.

The muscles in his arms clench as his grip on you tightens and you struggle to keep pace. Knees bend. Your legs spread to accommodate more of him. The couch groans beneath his movements. He draws you into his lap, shelved on thick thighs. You roll up against the swell in his sweatpants and he turns away from the kiss with a whimper.

In his distraction you trail kisses from the corner of his mouth to the soft hinge of his jaw. You play with the hair at his nape, barely any pressure behind the teasing touch. Licking a stripe along the column of his throat��angling away to bare himself to you, pulse quickening under your tongue—you reach the sensitive spot by his ear and gently blow.

“Baby—” Izuku shudders over you as his voice catches. Laid like this he is all you can see. It jolts his hips forward, seeking relief. You respond in kind, grinding against his cock with smooth, deliberate undulations. His eyes flutter, half crescent moons squeezed shut in pleasure. The bridge of his nose wrinkles as his mouth falls open, hands frantic in their greed and pawing at the soft parts of your body.

Izuku lets out a groan and pushes his face hard into the crook of your neck. The stubble scratches your skin. “What is it?” you ask, your mirth bleeding into the low murmur. His reply is muffled. “I can’t hear you, love”.

You wait as he turns his head to make his words clearer. “Wanna eat you out,” he says, fingers inching toward the hem of your hoodie. “Couldn’t stop thinking about it”.

“Yeah?” your brow furrows a tad and you tuck your chin in an effort to see his expression. You’re hesitant despite the tension that gathers in your abdomen. “Are you sure? You must be tired from your flight,” your thumb finds his mouth jutted into a pout. “Let me do something for you instead—”

A sharp inhale is all the warning you get before Izuku is up, grabbing your hips and dragging your body over the edge of the couch as he settles back on the floor. Caught in the momentum, the hoodie bunches up around your stomach, revealing how little you have underneath.

Izuku visibly gulps, mouth agape like a beast tasting the air. “This is for me,” he rasps, that hungry gaze sliding from your cunt to your face. He almost looks innocent, rubbing his cheek against your bare inner thigh. The stubble tickles. Your knees reflexively come together only to be met by resistance.

“What is…ah”.

Battle worn hands slide over your hips to your waist. You arch into it. His thumb strokes back and forth over your navel. “Sorry,” he grins sheepishly. “Is this okay? I—I still want to be able to touch you”.

Black tendrils are coiled around your thighs. They’re strong yet distinctly incorporeal, a faint warmth where they make contact almost like they were breathing. The grip is just enough to keep your legs splayed open. Laid out so plainly, you feel a flutter pass through you, clenching around nothing, arousal meeting tepid air.

“Yes. Yeah. It’s more than okay,” you swallow thickly. Reachinf to thread your fingers through his hair, you pause midway as a thought crosses your mind. “Oh, wait,” he watches you lean across to grab one of the decorative pillows and drop it next to him. “Put that under your knees, baby”.

It’s a silly thing, but Izuku’s legs are his weapons. He incurs some new type of bruising, laceration and fracture every day. You didn’t want his knees aching on the hard floors.

Izuku’s smile gentles in a way you’re wholly familiar with. Unfettered love, and the impending threat of tears. He does as you ask and returns his attention to your hips, appreciatively kneading the flesh. “You’re so good to me,” he mumbles in his descent, and you get the sense that it was for his own ears.

Your stomach jumps where his nose pressed to your navel. Izuku nuzzles his face there, reverential. He begins peppering kisses below your belly button, each wetter than the last. You feel all of it—the lift in his cheeks as he smiles, the inhale when he reaches your sex, the tender kiss he gives to the hood of your clit.

He meets your eyes from his position. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, your throat, your chest. Hot static prickles throughout your body. You hold his gaze and watch as his tongue lolls out, a string of spit stretching from the tip until it breaks. A small whisper of his name leaves your lips and it’s enough to spur him forward.

Wet and languid, his tongue strokes through your folds, coming to lay flat again and again. Nothing about it is precise. It’s messy and selfish, pure indulgence—purely for him, just as he said. Your legs struggle against the restraints as you chase the feeling. A puff of amusement comes from his nose, fanning over your skin.

“Fuck, baby. That feels good. Don’t…” your fingers curl into his hair, tight at the root. He moans unabashedly and the soft vibration makes you squirm. “There—don’t stop”.

You’re to do nothing but succumb to the hazy crescendo of your impending orgasm; to be pulled apart like dough in his covetous, warm hands; to feel the way he circles around your clit, finding your most sensitive angle, laving it with attention.

Spit soaks into the couch cushion beneath your hips. You can hear how wet you are. The sound rings in your ears and has heat crawling up your neck. Izuku’s breathing grows ever heavier. Tensing his tongue, flickering back and forth over your swollen clit, he sinks a finger inside you to the knuckle, fucking it in and out of you with a lazy come hither motion.

Another finger. Losing yourself to it a little, your fingers pull at his hair to hold his face against your cunt. Izuku whines, mumbling frantic incantations and praises. Your thighs clench, immovable in the grip of black whip. Pleasure throbs through your body like the beat of your heart, “Oh… Please”.

You fold into yourself, core drawn taut as your mouth drops open in a silent cry. Izuku’s pace doesn’t waver. He fucks you just right on his mouth, moaning with you as the tension snaps and you cum around his fingers, face slack with contentment in the clutch of your thighs.

A final tremor quakes through you. You drop back against the cushions, boneless and sated. Izuku steadily releases black whip and rises to meet your legs as they fall limp into the crooks of his arms. He forges a path of sticky kisses to your chest while you catch your breath, peppering them along your collarbones and throat, finally coming to rest against your mouth. You reciprocate lazily, tasting yourself on his tongue.

“Thank you,” he sighs, pressing a final kiss to your cheek.

“That’s my line,” you laugh, taking him by the jaw and swiping your thumb through the spit around his chin. “Made me feel so good. You’ll have to give me a minute before we go to bed”.

Izuku makes a small noise of complaint at the prospect of moving but he gets up anyway. Something playful passes over his expression. You take his proffered hand and squeak when he tugs you upright on weak knees. “I have an idea,” he tells you.

Held flush to his front you wrap your arms around his shoulders and he stands you on his feet. He waddles in place with you, tasting out his gait. Brimming newfound zeal he announces, “Okay. Let’s go!”

Suspended in a buttery hazy, you laugh, hanging on for the ride.

[starlightsuffered]

Nah, you've got me wanting Timmy finding out reader is pregnant the same time as Pauline with that cute fluff 😭 Can I? Can I? Like, two baby Chalamet beans 😭

Uncle (part 2)

Info - anxiety about pregnancy, being nervous, angst to fluff

I felt sick to my stomach and it wasn’t just because of the morning sickness. I couldn’t believe I’d realised the day AFTER Timothée had found out he was going to be an uncle, that I might be pregnant.

I’d woken up feeling ill. I had felt cramping in my abdomen. Timothée and I shared a dog and she’d become extremely territorial. By the end of the day I had mapped out on my calendar that I was a couple days late for my period.

I had started getting worried. I did not want Pauline to think I was stealing her thunder. I also didn’t quite know how Timothée would react. I knew he was beyond excited to be an uncle, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be a father.

The anxiety was seriously getting to me. I was having trouble sleeping. I was wearing a mask of happiness, pretending I was the picture of joy. I wanted to keep the baby. However, I wasn’t even sure I was pregnant. I was afraid to check.

“Angel, are you okay,” Timmy asked one night. My head was full of racing thoughts. I was just laying with it in his lap, thinking of all the ways I was totally fucked.

“You seem….. out of it lately,” he told me as he played with my hair.

“No, I’m fine. I’m great, and I’m so happy that-“

“Baby, I know you’re happy that Pauline is pregnant, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you,” Timothée interrupted me.

“What do you mean?” I almost snapped. He looked a bit hurt by my tone.

“I just mean that you talk about it all the time. Even when I don’t bring it up, you do. You circle back to it all the time. I-I just wanted you to know that I haven’t lost interest in you. If you were feeling a little jealous-“

I burst into tears. I felt my body shake as I was wracked with sobs. Timothée seemed shocked but he was rubbing my back and telling me everything would be okay.

“I think I could be pregnant,” I told him, I just let it come out.

“Wait really?” He asked in shock.

“I don’t feel good. Phoebe won’t leave me alone. I missed my period. I-I don’t know what else to expect. I promise I wasn’t trying to-to detract from her or to. I don’t know-“

“Shhh, shhh, baby I know. I would never expect that. I’m sure Pauline wouldn’t either,” he soothed me.

“Y-You are talking about this like it’s already a thing,” I sniffled. “Do you, w-would you want a baby?”

“Well it seems like you don’t want one,” he said cagily. He wasn’t meeting my gaze.

“But I don’t know, another Chalamet bean…..” a smile began to curve over his lips. “They’d be cousins growing up together.”

“That sounds really sweet,” I said, feeling myself calm.

“So, you wouldn’t mind?” He asked.

“I want the baby, if they exist,” I agreed.

Timothée was absolutely beaming now. He didn’t need to speak, he just began to kiss me. Before I knew what was happening he’d picked me up and was carrying me bridal style to the car. He made sure to buckle me in and drive to the store.

“You’re so goofy,” I giggled as he rushed out telling me to stay put and not strain myself. He came back out panting with a pregnancy test.

“You want me to check now?” I asked.

“As soon as possible. We have to know if the bean is in there,” he cooed at my still flat stomach.

“I swear you were made to be a dad,” I chuckled.

He zipped back to our place. He was torn between kissing me and begging me to go to the bathroom. I finally made it in and peed on the stick. I brought it out so we could wait for the lines together.

“It’s positive!” Timothée crowed. He was doing a happy dance as I laughed.

We made the call to Pauline together. She was completely overjoyed. I was absolutely overwhelmed with emotions as she congratulated and we happily discussed all the things we could do together.

“I love a bargain,” Timothée murmured as we cuddled. “A dad and an uncle.”

“I can’t believe I was afraid to tell you,” I sighed.

“No more fear baby momma,” Timothée comforted me.

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming

[thebaldursmouthgazette]

It’s so funny to play as a crow who can’t swim. Your city is 90% canal and you fly across it on zip lines for the love of god get some swimming lessons

[fumblingmusings]

give us some Francex Spain headcanons please

This is so long and unorganised, apologies. TL;DR - Francis is lucky Antonio is so placid, because the moments he bites back genuinely frighten him, but the status quo of him sitting neatly on top of Spain always seems to swing back around. Again, Francis is lucky Toni's life ambition is to own a cafe...

For proper context - I imagine Antonio as Castille first, then comes to represent Spain as a whole, though I imagine there will be representations of Galicia, Catalonia/Aragon etc. just like there's the regions of Japan or Picardy for France or indeed how Arthur represents the UK internationally, but of course his brothers are still very much around. So, just for why I think Francis and Antonio have a relationship which goes way back.

Francis and Antonio I imagine as a sin/cos curve... like when Francis is up high, above Toni, things are 'correct' and in their natural place. They're friendly as Antonio is such a mild mannered friendly kid he's quite content to sit and listen to Francis crow about his amazing Kings and fancy court and so on. Francis loves to brag about how it's him that's the true heir to Rome, not the Germans. Spain nods, thinking about other more important things back home.

France used Spain very much as a bulwark against the al-Andalus parts of the Iberian Peninsula - as Francis at the time of Charlemagne and thereafter loved to see himself as the saviour of Europe, so as time goes by and we zip by the occasional Castille/France team up versus England/Portugal you start to get an increasingly influential Spain by the late 15th century, and the trouble is... Toni wants the same thing as Francis. And oddly enough, he's better at getting what he wants, despite seemingly not really trying. Maybe because he is honest to goodness just a little bit less... smug? But sometimes reading Spanish history in the 1500s is going like: Oh. Well that was convenient. It's not the reality of course, but it must have been very frustrating.

Antonio also dislikes the same things as Francis. So it's interesting. When they're fighting my God do they go at it. When they're on the same side their a pretty solid duo. But I love the idea of Antonio just pissing Francis off at times, and like... sometimes just by vibing. The man's vibes are zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. And Francis - depending on his ego that day - finds it rancid. I know a lot of people don't like the way Antonio is characterised, but I love him as he is so shh. He's so disconnected at times from the reality going on around him. Only his immediate circle matters. He doesn't seem to really understand his Civil War. I think compared to Francis, who is much more in tune with his people... it gets messy.

The trouble comes because Francis is jealous, and likes his standing as number one in Europe. No-one can challenge that. But Antonio does, for a good century or even two, and maybe Antonio doesn't necessarily mean to, but his King and Queens do, or maybe Antonio finds that ambition suits him. The 15th through to mid 17th century gives him the ability to out class Francis. Maybe it's not intentional at first, but once Antonio finally grasps what he may be about to lose during the Thirty Years War and then the failing of his line of the Habsburgs... the ugliness comes out full force.

But... Like to show the overlap once Spain starts to really assert themselves in the late 15th Century, and how truly infuriated Francis must have been at points. They both have a vested interest in Italy - Antonio wins that one. Francis has a stake in Barcelona - Antonio wins that one. They both want the Low Countries. Antonio wins that one. Antonio gets Holy Roman Empire. And the actual creme de la creme... Antonio has divided the world in two with that blooming Treaty of Tordesillas. And the Pope was the one to approve that one. The Pope! The guy who says France is the most important nation for Christianity in Europe (save HRE but... oh look Spain is now Holy Roman Emperor too Jesus Christ).

Needless to say, Francis feels the universe is conspiring against him. God's not still mad about that Avignon Pope... is he?

So Francis is forever looking for ways to kick Antonio in the shins - to go back to him being the main guy in Europe, the guy who wants it and works for it and you know Francis more than anything wants to admired. Antonio... oh. Not sure what he wants more than anything really. A peaceful life. Which he did not get to have for most of his existence really. Arthur and Sadık are handy for Francis to use from time to time to deal a smack to Antonio, but otherwise it's him looking at this guy who - let's be generous - is not the most ambitious man going, who seems to just grow more and more powerful, more and more influential and it eaaaaaaaaats at Francis.

But you know. Habsburgs. Religion. War. Antonio finally understands what he stands to loose, and ah. There's the ambition and drive. But he still looses, and now there's a Bourbon in charge and he is unable to ever fully get back up to that the ascent that the Trastámaras started. Pacte de Famille pops up again and again in the 18th Century, and I like the idea of it being characterised as Francis using Antonio's love of the Italies, and the fact that Arthur is increasingly a pain in the fucking arse for the both of them. Again, both Francis and Antonio love the same things. They also hate the same things. Sometimes that thing is a god awful English dude and sometimes love and hate are indistinguishable.

Like, Francis can loathe Arthur at points, but at least Arthur works to be a pain in the arse. Toni... wants to own a cafe. And he isn't even that good at it.

[theriancultureis]

Crow (or any winged really) therian culture is loving zip-lining because it reminds you of what it was like to fly

.

[glorious-kt]

O14 x Young Wolf Exo!Hunter

Some lovely smut

Soft and fluffy

@hidden-scarlet-whispers for your needs

Pinning Osiris to the bed was easier when Saint was also behind them to be another barrier. The older Warlock was unable to escape, not that the human wanted to anyways, not when a naked Young Wolf was sitting prettily in his lap and a naked Saint had a hand on his thigh and another on the Hunter’s hip. The three of them had stumbled into bed like this after Osiris had finally given in to Sagira's complaining about seeing Ghost and Geppitto. The other two ghosts missed their friend after all, and Osiris did miss his lovers. So he left Mercury and snuck into the Tower on Earth. Wolf found him first, because of course he did. His little spark was an amazing tracker as they were a scholar. Osiris was sure that if they hadn't been a Hunter, then Warlock would have come next.

"Pretty," Young Wolf clicked out softly, his voice just barely a whisper, the sound more glitchy than anything due to his low usage of his voice box.

Osiris flushed under the sharp green optics, swallowing as he burned under the pure lightning sitting in his lap. Rarely did Wolf ever speak, so to hear the younger Exo use his voice to call him pretty of all things... well, it did things to him.

"Yes, yes, he is pretty. Our pheonix, so bright and daring," Saint crowed out from behind Young Wolf, those purple optics shining bright with amusement and adoration, tugging Osiris closer by the thigh.

It caused the human to gasp in shock as the motion knocked Young Wolf further onto his cock. The younger Exo trilled from on Osiris' lap, the lights following the line of his body pulsing with the pleasure that zipped up the hunter’s spine. Osiris tipped his head back with a moan, closing his eyes as the smaller Exo rolled his hips with a sound of pleasure and laughter. Osiris missed the both of them. Missed this. The laughter and joy in their intimacy. The kind touch from the lightning in Wolf's touch. The cold shock of the void in Saint's hold. He missed the roll of Wolf’s hips against his, the feeling of Wolf taking him deep and gently.

He missed the way Saint was being so gentle, allowing their Hunter to set their pace before rocking forward into Osiris, sinking his member into the warlock with practiced ease. Their connection was like seeing a series of stars that made up the constellations that Young Wolf loved looking at. Osiris reopened his eyes with a cry as he looked up at the lithe Exo. He was full on both ends, pressing deep into Atlas and Saint pressing deep into him. The younger Exo made a noise in the back of his voice box, chirping and clicking happily as he leaned down to press a kiss to Osiris' forehead, rolling his hips to Saint's thrusts.

Osiris felt overwhelmed, tears sparking in his eyes as he reached up to hold on to Young Wolf’s thighs, needing a point of contact that wasn't just his dick. He could feel his two lovers ripping him apart with just their kind touches. The slow rolling pace, like an steady stream slowly eroding the dirt to make way for a river to grow.

"Wolf, Guardian, Wolf, please. Please, little spark, don't tease," Osiris begged out, grip tight on the Hunter’s thighs, Solar Light burning in his palms.

The Exo shushed him softly, leaning down further to press a kiss to his gasping mouth. Good timing too, as Saint picked up the pace right then, ramming into Osiris' prostate, turning the softness of the moment into somehting more rough and desperate. Osiris cried out against Young Wolf’s mouth, tossing his head back in pleasure, giving Wolf room to nip at his neck.

"We have you, my pheonix. Don't worry. We have you," Saint cooed as he dragged the two of them in closer.

Osiris could die happy. Sandwiched between his two lovers. Pleasure on all sides and the feeling of cold void and sparking lightning dancing along his spine.

Sagira wouldn't be happy, but his ghost would live.

[thesilversun]

Five Lines Fic Meme Tagged by: @howdaretrashships Thanks for the tag!

Rules: find five lines in your fic based on the prompts you are given, then change one of the prompts at the end!

A Line You Think is Hilarious

from

Mainframe, HEX and the Temporal Trouser Error

a Torchwood/Discworld crossover where two computers talk to each other despite a difference in programming language.

It' a few lines really (and tbh pretty much all the fic - it's by far the silliest thing I've written.)

Mainframe gave the electronic equivalent of a shrug, and then sent her next message. [Please identify date of three leg trouser formation] Hopefully Hex would understand it if it was sent in terms it understood.  +++14 Grune. Year eight. Century of the Anchovy+++ Which could, Mainframe computed, mean anything from ten thousand years ago to a week last Tuesday. So she sent back [Sync calendar function?] A calendar page from the previous May appeared on screen, then across one of the days flashed the word +++Wrong Trouser Day+++

A Line About Mysteries

Time Enough and Life (Torchwood, Jack/Ianto)

By 1969 the Electro was threatened with closure. It managed a stay of execution thanks to the British Film institute scheme supporting regional arthouse cinemas, and was renamed the Cardiff Showhouse. Even so, as the 1970s wore on it struggled to turn a profit and it finally closed its doors on the 22nd of February 1977. Jack stops and reads the sentence again. Simple, factual and easy to understand it is also completely incomprehensible in relation to what Ianto has told him about it. There had been such genuine fondness and affection in Ianto's voice at the memories of Saturday mornings spent there with his father that Jack finds it incredibly unlikely that it is a lie. Yet if it's not a lie Ianto is a great deal older than he looks and had lied about his age when he joined Torchwood One. Either that or his father's idea of a nice day out was to zip back a couple of decades to see a film. All the options are preposterous, yet a quick search of the internet confirms the 1977 closure date. The only thing that’s clear is that, for whatever reason, Ianto has been lying to him, and maybe to Torchwood from the outset. The question is why?

A Line About Love

From All the Lies (Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley) (written after S1, not seen S2, so if there is an angel in S2 call Uriel it isn't this one)

Uriel watched them for a moment surprise growing on her face. "You love him." "We are meant to love," Aziraphale said, pulling the fuzzy, midnight-blue fabric around him. "More than anything that is our purpose. I cannot and will not be sorry for being as She made me." "Not you." Uriel pointed at Crowley. "That...thing. The demon. How can It do that?" "Thing. Demon. It. Well isn't that just charming. It's Crowley. Crow-Ley. Two syllables. Really not that tricky." He gave her an irritated look that somehow managed to be conveyed despite the glasses. "You know the one who helped screw up the whole end of the world thing for you." "But you shouldn't love him," Uriel persisted. "You can't." "Why not? We were all angels once," Crowley said, quieter than usual. "Falling didn't change..." He stopped, genuine raw hurt on his face. "Falling was a punishment and what better punishment for a Fallen Angel than to still feel love, but know they'll never, ever deserve it. Never." He turned away, swallowing down millennia old hurt. "Seriously I thought all you angels knew that. Just something else for you to be smug about." It felt like a punch in the gut. Had Crowley thought that about him too? The things he'd said to him...Some of them had been so thoughtless, cruel even. "Oh Crowley, my dear, you should have said something," Aziraphale said, catching his hand in his own. "Of course you're loved. I love you." Panic, fear and desperate hope, radiated from him as he looked at their clasped hands. "You....you do?"

A Line About Dreams

From Before the Dawn (Mysterious Lotus Casebook, Difanghua - a nightmare rather than a good dream, unfortunately)

There is water all around him. Ice cold and dark. It is full of hands. Some tiny, some huge. Men’s hands, women’s hands, things that may or may not be human at all. Gripping, grasping hands that pull at him, at his hair, at his clothing. Not clothing. His clothes are gone. He can’t open his eyes, but Di Feisheng can see them all the same. Nothing but hands. No heads or faces. No bodies or even limbs. Just innumerable hands, their sharp nails, talons, claws, red painted, like cinnabar, like wedding clothes. they hook into his skin, tearing it open. The water turns redder still. Like blood. Perhaps it was always blood. Either way he’s soaked in it. Drowning in it. He always has been. He struggles against the tide of clawing fingers. They swarm up his body, no part left untouched. They close around his throat, squeezing, crushing the air from him. They pry his mouth open, blood rushing in and out, they are in throat from the inside, choking him. He wants to scream, but there’s no air left in him. “A-Fei!” It’s distant. He tries to kick out, but his legs will barely respond. There are hands on his shoulders pinning down. He’s going to die. He doesn’t want to die. “A-Fei! Wake up!” It’s closer. More urgent. Familiar. The hands, which aren’t the same as the ones in his dream, shake him. Careful, rather than rough, as they pull back to wakefulness. To safety.

An Atmospheric Line

from Three months and a thousand miles of sea Mysterious Lotus Casebook, Dihua.

He turns to the wide horizons. “Li Xiangyi! Come back and face me!” Only the echo of the mountains answer, taunting and hopeless. He sits amidst the snow and shattered rock. The sun sets and the cold moon rises. Frost settles on his hair. His hands heal. Still the empty ache inside will not ease. The sun rises and he leaves. The cold of the mountains seems to have seeped into his bones, like he will never be warm again and still he aches for what could have been. What should have been.

Tagging: @yletylyf @galexibrain @cheesybadgers @killerandhealerqueen @momosandlemonsoda if you want to that is, and any one else who wants to do it even if not tagged

Prompts:

A Line You Think is Hilarious

A Line About anger

A Line About Love

A Line About Dreams

An Atmospheric Line

[ronqueesha]

17 for Nerio and Lucanis for the kiss meme? I saw that reblog!

Thank you, friend! And you're right, this was the prompt I was most looking forward to from the list hehe.

send me some kiss prompts plz? 👉👈��

17. height difference kisses where one person has to bend down and the other is on their tippy toes

There are no spoilers in this!

~~~~~

In their deepest imagination, Nerio had a desire so taboo, so unthinkable, that the potential dangers and consequences flipped around from terrifying to thrilling. Like an intrusive thought that became more compelling the longer the elf dwelled on it.

In their mind's eye, they pictured themselves walking the streets of Treviso with Lucanis Dellamorte. Not on a patrol for the Crows or chasing some Antaam agent down rotting alleyways, but just a pleasant stroll. In this imaginary scene, the markets bustled with people selling wares of all sort, crowds chattered and shuffled about in the tight walkways, and the air filled with the murmurs of water in the canals below.

And somewhere in the middle of this imaginary crowd, Nerio's most shocking desire played out. An elf, who stood taller than the man beside them, turned to look him in the eye. And a moment later, they dipped forward into a kiss so deep, so passionate, that all eyes in Antiva turned to look at them. Nerio had to bend at the waist to kiss him, and wrapped their arms around his back to support Lucanis as they dipped further still.

What scandal! How outrageous! An ELF, so brazenly kissing a human in the streets!

Perhaps it wasn't as shocking in Antiva as it would have been back home for Nerio. And the stories they had heard about how elves were treated in southern Thedas were worse. But that's what made the fantasy so delicious for Nerio. In their mind's eye, they pictured themselves breaking centuries of taboo and tradition, their heart raced as their lips touched Lucanis. And best of all, he reciprocated with every ounce of passion and longing, his hand reaching up to touch Nerio's cheek as they celebrated their love in the middle of the imaginary city for all to see.

And then they parted, as they always did when Nerio imagined this scenario. Most of the time, they never spoke a word, they just shared a smile, their cheeks flushed and their eyes locked on one another as they took in heavy breaths.

And yet, today, Nerio's face curled in confusion as Lucanis' expression turned from simple joy to a swirl of annoyance. "Get your head out of your ass, Rook! Pay attention!"

What?

OH, right!

In an instant, Nerio snapped out of their imaginary version of Treviso back into the real one. Instead of crowded streets, the two stood on the city's endless tangle of rooftops and balconies, connected by a spider's web of walkways and zip lines. Above, the stars twinkled in the darkness of midnight. And as always, the acrid odor of canal water filled every breath. (Nerio enjoyed omitting that particular detail out of their daydreams)

"Right! Yes!" The elf huffed as they followed the human across the endless winding paths between roofs and connected buildings.

"We're almost late!" Lucanis, the real Lucanis, hissed. "Spite will never forgive you if we miss it."

"Well now I have to make sure we're on time." Nerio laughed as they clambered over a barricade and slipped down a particularly steep expanse of tiles, just as their companion had done moments before.

"Mierda, it's starting already!" Nerio heard the pained whisper as they spared a glance upward. Across the night sky, the stars were momentarily drowned out by dazzling explosions of color and smoke. Fireworks of multiple types, each more spectacular than the last, had begun to pop and crackle in the skies over the city.

"We're almost there, right!? Is Spite mad?" Nerio pleaded as they continued to follow. Their goal had to be near, the best rooftop vantage to see the annual celebrations, or so Lucanis said.

"Almost!"

Lucanis hauled himself over a tall window frame and turned back to give Nerio a hand. In that brief moment, he stood taller than the elf, and had to bend down to get the best position.

Nerio reached up, and stretched their legs until only their toes touched the rooftop they stood on, to wrap their arm around his.

With a single, fluid motion, Lucanis pulled Nerio up. And for the briefest moment, their lips met. Lucanis grumbled a satisfied laugh deep inside his chest as he did so.

He only pulled back enough to speak. "Spite forgives you, this time. But next year, stop daydreaming and move faster."

I couldn't help myself, and filled out the prompt both ways. 😆😆😆

[seas-of-silver]

Oh! For the thingy of sentence. (My ml Tumblr is dadplagg-mamatikki btw...)

"Get back here!" Plagg yelled as he flew after a cackiling Tikki.

(Also I think I misspelled something.. 🤦🏻‍♀️🥲)

No worries about spelling errors and whatnot - I can fix that 🤭

Here you go @dadplagg-mamatikki!

~/~

‘Get back here!’ Plagg yelled as he flew after a cackling Tikki.

‘You snooze, you lose!’ she sing-songed as she zipped around the umbrella behind Marinette’s chaise.

‘That doesn’t even make sense!’ he yowled as he followed her, flying past Adrien as they went through the trap door to the living room below. ‘I wasn’t even asleep!’

‘Could’ve fooled me, Stinky Sock,’ she teased as she did a lap around the room with him hot on her tail.

He growled as he tried to overtake her, almost whacking into a Tupperware while Tikki weaved through the assortment of salt and pepper shakers with ease. He flew straight through the centre of the cookie cutters that were standing on their sides on the bench, digging deep within himself to close the gap that had been growing between him and his cookie-loving counterpart. He almost had her-

‘And she’s over the finish line! Tikki wins!’ Tom crowed, handing Tikki a tiny medal Marinette had made.

‘Gah, I was so close!’ Plagg groaned, floating down to land next to his partner. ‘You were unfairly fast.’

‘I don’t weigh myself down with mountains of cheese,’ she joked lightheartedly, before handing him a slice of Camembert from the platter Sabine had prepared earlier. ‘You raced well today, Plagg.’

‘Thanks, Sugarcube,’ he said, taking the cheese, ‘but you know that I’ll totally beat you next time, right?’

Tikki’s eyes sparkled with the challenge. ‘You’re on!’

‘The next contenders in the Kwami Obstacle Course is… Kaalki and Fluff!’ Adrien announced. ‘Come on up to the starting line!’

Plagg watched as the two kwamis excitedly flew up into Marinette’s room.

‘Wait,’ said Tikki, sounding concerned, ‘doesn’t that leave Roaar and Orikko to compete against each other? We’ve gone through everyone else, haven’t we?’

Plagg dropped his Camembert. The last time Roaar and Orikko teamed up for something fun like this, Roaar tried to boost morale and excitement with friendly jests and words of encouragement… words which Orikko misinterpreted as insults, and did not take it too kindly. Orikko, feeling snubbed, wasn’t too polite to Roaar, who really didn’t like the rude attitude after her attempts to help her teammate’s mood. Things escalated, and, well, it wasn’t pretty. They haven’t been paired up since.

‘Okay!’ Marinette called from above. ‘Ready-’

The last time Roaar and Orikko were paired up, they were in the safety of the Miracle Box.

‘Steady-’

This time, they were in Marinette’s family home, in the outside world.

‘Go!’

Plagg looked at Tikki, despair in his gut. ‘Oh, shit.’

~/~

Ask game: Give me the first sentence and I'll write a short piece for it!

[stellarsjae]

i love seeing how the different birds at the park by me approach hunting/foraging like the crows evenly space themselves in almost a grid across the fields and peck in their sections, the canada and cackling geese send a couple scouts then descend en masse and sweep together in a line, robins are only out in the morning picking berries and wet worms from the upper fields, the finches and sparrows cling to the fences and sunflowers and berry bushes and never sit still just like the bees, turkey vultures swoop in groups of three or more circling from the river across the parks to the road and back, and at the right time of day a single blue heron or bald eagle will patrol the confluence of rivers with watchful eyes above where the iridescent swallows zip and dance playfully across the surface, ducks paddling noisily around the boat launch and seagulls in the overflowing trashcans... and starlings just bully everyone in sight lmao

[dansnaturepictures]

Hayling Island Oysterbeds 02/12/23

Flora and fauna photos taken in this set are of: 1 and 10. The gorgeous Long-tailed Duck which we got stunning views of on the lagoon, an exquisite, excellent and charming bird I am overjoyed to see one in Hampshire this year after they were stars of the Scotland trip we went on in April. It was exceptional to see this one and filled me with glee, seeing it swim and then flying over the lagoon into the mist that had descended at the end of the walk was a magical natural experience. 2. Another star bird of my year seen well and in numbers feeding at the shore on the sides of the lagoon, not a bird I'd seen at this spot much before but a common one in Hampshire, Turnstone. 3. Another species I've thoroughly enjoyed seeing and photographing this year one of a few Rock Pipits seen well this afternoon. Its feathers shone line fine fabric in the winter sun. 4. I believe my first ever white melilot, a sweet milky flower to see. 5. A big Buzzard it was a treat to see out in the marsh, a beautiful and unique sight we got a splendid view of one flying over the road on the way here too. 6. One of a few Red-breasted Mergansers I loved seeing this afternoon, beautiful ducks, I have seen and photographed it and its cousin the Goosander this week which can't have happened often with photos of both Long-tailed Duck and Long-tailed Tit this week too. 7. Knots, Dunlins and Turnstones, there were possibly Grey Plover mixed into this big group too. It was exceptional to enjoy the winter spectacle of all of these together not only in the huddle but elegantly gliding through the air as the mist was falling. 8. Oxtongue a bright flower it was great to see a few of by the sea. 9. Brent Geese, it was so uplifting and joyful to see them so well and be immersed in the place with the quintessential winter sound of their honking. I made the most of seeing them throughout the walk with some cracking views and it was mystical to see them fade into the mist which made a good backdrop to them at the end of the walk.

Other bird highlights were a Kingfisher zipping across the sea with the tide in at the start, Shelduck, Little Grebes on the lagoon, Cormorant, Grey Heron, an eerie Little Egret view in the foggy light, Oystercatcher, Curlew, Redshank, Common Gull, Herring Gull, Blackbird, Robin, Carrion Crow and Magpie. Roe Deers seen well, daisy, teasel seed heads and hawthorn berries kissed by the winter sun beautifully, rose hips, burdock seed heads, fluffy old man's beard, tree mallow leaves and privet berries were also nice to see. I enjoyed seeing Grey Silverfish and many Goldfinches out the front at home today. An enriching winter day.

[smorksthings]

Gabriel "Rook" C De Riva

Rook from Veilguard headcanons and ideas | Major spoilers past the "read more" | CW: trafficking, suicidal thoughts, slavery | Word count: 889

- Celio originally comes from the elven aliange in Denarim, but was in the trafficking incident during the Fifth Blight and was too young to remember it. He was brought to Tevinter as a slave before a De Riva Crow was sent to assassinate his slaver — unrelated to him — and they happened to find him, took him in and made him a Crow.

- On that note, I also really like the idea that he was a Tabris before the trafficking. The youngest brother in Shianni's family, something like that.

- For this, Celio does not really care about Tevinter, Minrathous, and all that, honestly "doesn't really care is an understatement", he often hates Tevinter, but doesn't say it out loud, especially around Neve.

- Much like a crow, he likes picking up shiny things and hoarding them, Viago has yelled at him several times for taking tokens back from his missions, especially those that people related to his now deceased targets will probably want. He's also very smart, clever and cunning, but mostly likes making a joke of everything, including himself.

- He has albinism! He's previously dyed his hair black, but it didn't stick, he's often worried it'll make him stick out like a sore thumb during a contract, and while it has done so a few times, he's learned that a properly fitted hood will do the trick. Apart from the basic idea of having light hair and whatever, he also likes braiding crow feathers into his hair.

- While Celio may not be afraid of heights — actually, he absolutely loves being in the air, zip lining from building to building — he HATES water, he does not swim, he hates boats, and his worst day on earth was when he was in the Ossuary to be completely honest. Sometimes he wishes he never went under, especially when he was in the Ossuary, but then he remembers that he only saved Lucanis because he went under, so it becomes a little less hard.

- That said, I think I prefer the idea that Celio had already met Lucanis before the Veilguard. They weren't all that close, especially not since Lucanis is a Dellamorte, one of, if not the most important crow families, meaning that they never got a chance to get close. Celio developed something more akin to a school yard crush during that time, it persisted somewhat, as the "Demon of Vyrantium" thing was propped up, but nothing serious.

- On a more depressing note, Celio definitely has some kind of disassociative disorder, especially after harder missions, he just kind of gets out of it. Most of his "meditative" sessions to talk to Solas weren't actually meditation, it was disassociation. This is also why it was so easy for Solas to manipulate him and falsify Varric's life, his mind was already susceptible to loosing itself. He also has depression, anxiety and suffers greatly from imposter syndrome. Suicidal thoughts have not escaped him either.

- He uses his humor and jokes as a shield, to keep his anxiety and insecurities at bay. He's learned to be quite charming, sassy, charismatic, anything and everything to keep people from prying into twhy he seems so sad. No one asks why he seems so distant and gone, so he figures it works.

- Varric is like a father figure to Celio, that's why he was so devestated when he realised that Varric had died at the ritual. That's why Solas fooling him worked so well. He's still having a hard time coping with the loss, he still thinks he can hear, or even see Varric walking around and talking to him, even after he finished Elgar'nan. Sometimes he still refuses to believe that Varric died, when he was the only person who made him feel like he had family in a long time — other than the Crows.

- He likes making himself really, really small when he sleeps or is trying to make himself comfortable. Getting into cramped spaces or curling around himself is always his most comfortable positions. If it weren't inappropriate to do around the table, he'd bring his knees up to his chest and hug them. Celio also often rocks himself when he does this, as a self soothing mechanism.

- He swears he's not a mage and doesn't know a lick of magic, but his "electric potions" don't actually exist and he certainly knows how to manipulate electricity like a pro. Or as close as you can get as an untrained mage with electric based magic. He has gained a few scars from using his powers, besides his whip and shackle scars from when he was still a Tevinter slave.

- He wears earrings — Varric's earrings actually. I like to think the reason Varric isn't seen wearing any earrings at all in DAV is because Celio had taken Varric's earrings after he died and put them on. His subconscious remembers this act but he doesn't actually acknowledge it, he probably did it while he was disassociating after Varric's death — also why Varric doesn't have them on as a hallucination.

[relax-and-read-on]

You all asked for it....

Primarch, and the shitty gift they ended with

Part 2

Roboute: Lie, cheat, bargain and blackmail his way into getting Perturabo's gift. He WANT fancy new heated public bath, and there is no friends or brother in that fight. Quite happy with himself.

Lion: Got Leman's gift. Imemdiately start eating it with his hands, in front of everyone. A few complain about the strong smell and he growl at them. Literally licking the tin that contained caviar.

Alpharius Omegon: Try to troll Rob by "going" for Pert's gift, but decide to go for Mortarion's one. The want the extremely invasive succulent, for... Completely innocent purpose. Yep. No tomfoolery in the plans.

Rogal: Get Roboute's Mug, and has one big "AH! This is humourous!". Will never use any other mug ever again. Is generously sharing the candies amongst family members.

Perturabo: Kinda super smug that his gift was quite beloved, but try to play it off. As such, he's in a good mood, and "pretend" that he doesn't care that he got Lion's weird taxidermy bird. Actually, he's crazy excited because he think he has a new taxon of bird. No one tell him.

Corvus: Gets Angron punching bag. It's the same size as her. Actually make a VERY comfortable firm body pillow, it will join her nest at once. No one will ever see it again.

Lorgar: After a few people tried Vulkan's hot sauce and almost died, Lorgar tried it, and declare it DELICIOUS. Him and Vulkan are now exchanging cooking tips, or possibly recipe for biological weapons, no one is sure.

Konrad: Get's Lorgar tea set. Ignore the fancy teapot and immediately start munching on the leaves, in spit of Lorgar's warning. 15min later he's high as a kite, star fishing on the carpet with a big dopey smile and giggling about bees. He's having a good time.

Sanguinius: Get Magnus color changing robes! Then has a lot of fun trying to color change his own hair to match. Someone (Horus) ask what color it turm when he's horny, and get a semi-gentle wing slap.

Vulkan: Rogal's screwdriver! Immediately start having fun with it, and is pleased to see a tool that his resistant to his size and strenght. Might try to convince Rogal to make an entire line of tool for him and his sons.

Horus: at first was also going for Pert's gift, but end up abandoning that for Fulgrim's family painting. They are having the party on his ship, in his rooms, and take the time to grind everything to a halt just so that he can hung his new favorite painting in the whole world. Rogal help him gladly.

Mortarion: See Jaghatai's foal start eating Magnus hair, and take it so it's not "corrupted by witchery". The lil animal chew on his cloak instead and fall asleep in his laps. Try hard not to cry at how much he love him.

Jaghatai: Get the edible sexy underwear, and immediately put them on (above his clothes!) Make prolonged eye contact with anyone starring, and declare that if anyone wants a taste, they can. Multiple people are tempted.

Leman: Get Ferrus rock collection, and honestly thought it was rock candy. Crunch one, and wince as it grind against his teeth. Still try a few more, because *maybe* they do have different flavors??? Surprisingly like the ammonite fossil.

Magnus: Get the Twins MLP:FiM dvd set. Way too intrigued by mysterious dvd, he will spend WAY too much time watching the show eventually, and try to decipher it's arcane meaning.

Fulgrim: Bite the bullet, and got Konrad's gift. He wants to encourage him to do more art, and he also recognise the stitching technic used as the one he thought Konrad. So. He can endure the tiny bit of skin still attached to his hair pillow.

Ferrus: Ended up with Corvus gift, the crow kigurumi. It bulge obscenely over his muscles and can't zip up much. Looks quite inappropriate, but he insist on wearing it because it's "comfy as fuck". Fulgrim is fully encouraging him.

Angron: Get Sanguinius pillow. Grumble that it's a shit gift, then actually lay his head on it to see how soft it is. Immediately asleep. The party is very quiet after that, and declared a resounding success.

In the (late!) Spirit of the holidays, I wanted everyone to have a good time, and a gift they enjoy. I wanted to post this around christmas, but hey, life got in the way! So! I hope you all had a happy celebration, filled with the people you love, and that you will all have a year 2024 better than the last.

Again, thank you all for following this silly lil blog!

I have not made made a generic hc post about the primarch in a LONG time. I miss it, and it's good for the warhammer tumblr ecosystem. So, without further waiting....

Primarch, and the absolutely shitty gifts they give each others for a White Elephants gift exchange

Roboute: A classic coffee mug (primarch sized!) Filled with sweets and a indestructible fancy fountain pen. The mug say "World Most Okay Dad" on it, and he joke that it apply to them all.

Lion: a stuffed bird. The number of eyes on it is vaguely unnerving. It's unclear wich way is the head suppose to go, and all agree that it's probably an awful mutant bird. Lion is too proud to admit that it's just a really shotty taxidermy he made himself.

Alpharius Omegon: They give a series of mysterious CD in blank case, wich is a very rare and hard to read format on most ship! It's the entire series of MLP:FiM, famous lost media in the 30th millenium.

Rogal: A thick, sturdy, and perfectly elegant multi bit screwdriver, with extra standard bits put in the handle. Give a proud presentation on it, explaining it's superior design and all it's ergonomic features. It's 45 min long.

Perturabo: it's a coupon that say "one (1) construction from me and my legion, free of complaining. Valid until the 31th millenium." It's the most popular gift of the night.

Corvus: slipper and kigurumi, all crow themed. They are *adorable*. Sadly, the size is a bit tight and vaguely indecent on the more muscular primarch.

Lorgar: a traditional colchian tea set, with hand dried craft teas! The set is beautiful, and the teas prove to be only mildly hallucinogenic.

Konrad: A very, VERY pretty embroidered set of throw pillow! They have delicate pattern of flower and nature imagery... And are made with human hair. Konrad is very proud of himself, and even more of the absolute bloody screaming his gift create when he explain it.

Sanguinius: put out by Konrad's gift, but he also made a pillow, but this one filled with his own feathers. Has surprising property against nightmare.

Vulkan: He was actually sweet, and brought homemade hot sauce, his mother's recipe! The problem is that the stuff is so strong, it's considered a dangerous chemical in most of the galaxy. Can be used as jet fuel.

Horus: Edible sexy underwear. Insist that whoever gets it has to wear it, and jokingly say that, if they are too shy, he can do a demonstration himself.

Mortarion: a succulent growing kit. Even his most dumbasses of brother should be able to keep a succulent alive, right? Doesn't mention that it's an highly invasive species that will colonise the entire ship of his poor victime.

Jaghatai: a foal. Yes, he carry a whole ass live animal to the gift exchange, and keep insisting that it's an appropriate gift. The horse is chewing on Magnus' hair.

Leman: Mad that he didn't think of bringing a puppy, but he has the most amazing looking collection of smoked salmon, caviar and preserved fish to offer.

Magnus: his patience is wearing thin, but he still offer a perfectly beautiful robe, that act as an honest to good mood ring and change color depending on the person's aura.

Fulgrim: A painting of himself! Wich is actually a joke, it's just a thin and hand painted decorative paper covering the true gift: a painting of all their family, together. Get called a try hard.

Ferrus: a collection of very pretty crystals and fossils! Wich he arranged in a chocolate box, and explain that those are his favorite flavors.

Angron: A punching bag that even *he* find durable. He made sure of it, by thoroughly testing it before giving it out, wich explain it's used appearance.

I know exactly who gets what..... Yall want to know in a part 2 ;)?