#nomi marks packs

[cryptidkeepp]

(hayley law) [THE AESTHETE]. Please welcome [POE IVERSON (SHE/THEY)] to Huntsville, WV. They are an [29]-year-old [VISITOR] who lives in [THE COMMUNE]. You may see them around working as a [COOK AT PARSONS HOUSE]. Poor unfortunate soul. We’ll see if they survive.

GENERAL.

full name: poe ember iverson

nicknames: tbd

title: the aesthete

hunter / gatherer: gatherer

birthplace: kingwood, west virginia

gender / pronouns: demi-woman, she/they

age / birthday: 29, october 3rd

orientations: pansexual, panromantic

occupation: cook at parson's house

location: commune, visitor

status: it's complicated with beckett banks

family: charlotte iverson ( mother ), oliver iverson ( adoptive father, deceased ), biological father unknown, wilde iverson ( half-sister

strengths: creative, passionate, caring, witty, objective

weaknesses: blunt, mysterious, messy, insecure, petty

character inspo: ramona flowers (scott pilgrim vs the world), ally maine (a star is born), luna lovegood (harry potter), clementine kruczynski (eternal sunshine of the spotless mind), maeve wiley (sex education), marla singer (fight club), nomi marks (sense8), penelope garcia (criminal minds)

BIOGRAPHY.

tw: parental death, neglect

born in a military town in good ol' appalachia the results of a mistake made between barely adult teens. her mother did her best and while poe never knew her real father, she was given a replacement that never made her wonder who he was. oliver adopted her after he married charlie and a few years later poe's favorite person in the entire world arrived, their little spitfire wilde.

from the moment wilde came along poe said she was theirs and to this day she'd claim the same. there's nothing she wouldn't do for them.

everything was right in the world. school was boring but poe made it through the day to day and grades were always good for the most part. just as they were completing their freshmen year of high school, tragedy struck the iverson home and turned all their lives on its axis. oliver passed from an unknown aneurysm suddenly.

after that, things changed completely. their mother became distant, almost inconsolable and simply stopped making an effort to take care of them anymore. poe took it upon herself to grow up and take over the responsibilities while they waited for their mom to pull herself together again. however, that never seemed to happen.

instead, poe got a job on the side, got the paperwork together to sign their mother up for assistance, made sure wilde was taken care of, and somehow still managed to graduate high school. even fell in love ( though she never thought a soldier is who she'd end up falling for ), though their time together was brief. she kept in touch with him while he was deployed, patiently waiting till he could return home again. besides, they were busy enough without adding dating into the mix.

once upon of time she'd dreamed of going to art school ( drawing and painting being a coping mechanism since she was young, comic style being her favorite ) but that was no longer in the cards. instead, she stayed home and continued working. at that point both wilde and them took care of each other, on top of looking after their mother. they made plans to move away, leave west virginia and start over somewhere new. but poe wouldn't leave until wilde graduated high school. it was important for her but also the legality of it all should something happened with their mom or otherwise.

finally the day came, they pooled together their savings, packed their things and left that stupid little mountain town behind them. eyes set on something different, with an ocean and a beach. poe sent one last letter off to their soldier and promised to update him when they could. however, that update would never come. the iverson siblings didn't make it far at all, somehow they ended up in huntsville and their dreams of leaving west virginia for bigger and better things were shattered. now it's right back to surviving and hoping the future is better. poe won't stop dreaming, even if those dreams are turning into nightmares as time ticks on.

QUICK CONNECTIONS.

friends

other commune residents

co-workers at parson's house

art lovers

people who collaborate with her to make comics

people who buy their comics at the trading post

a close friend/confidant

HEADCANONS.

poe hand draws and colors comic books, copies them, and sells them at the trading post. they also draw small strips to put up in the commune for people to look at if they want and offered it to the local paper to publish if they wanted to.

they know beckett is in town, but they've avoided approaching him probably for the same reason he's avoided her. it's complicated and she has no way of knowing what the years have changed since they last saw each other.

makes her own clothes, likes to come up with new outfits and decorate her areas to match the aesthetic of her mood, the season, whatever. she can also often be found drawing, reading, or listening to music by abandoned areas, the park, or the commune gardens.

more to come!

[dejavuedits]

GIRLS EDITION: RANDOM LAYOUTS

゛✿ ℒıke or reblog if you save this layouts.

゛✿ 𝒞redıts on twitter ⦂ @celestialside if you use.

゛✿ 𝒮ponsored by 𝘃𝗮𝗹𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗮 🌷.

[fknperfecticons]

Like/reblog if you save

[parcks]

sense8 + badlands quotes headers 《@badlznds

[biackthcrn]

Sense8 characters lockscreen

like/reblog if you use/save them

[princess-of-riviaa]

Wolves and Vamps Don't Mix

Cavillmas Day 4: “Scarf” prompt

Pairing: Walter Marshall (Nomis/Night Hunter) x Reader

Authors Note: so I fucked up and posted this too early but oh well 🤷‍♀️

Summary: You say goodbye.

Warning(s): angst, slight body worship, rough sex, tw mention of death, tw mention of rapist (no one gets raped though), angst, tw mention of being attacked, supernatural elements, tw biting/drinking blood, did I mention angst?

Word Count: 3288

He licks away your tears, just like he always does when you’ve had a bad day. That is definitely what today has been. No. Not bad. Miserable. Pure anguish. Utter hell.

You look at him through watery eyes and blurred vision. You can read the look on his face. He’s desperate to say, We don’t have to do this. We can still come back from this. Please stay. I need you. I don’t want a life without you. You know that’s what he wants to say because you’re thinking the same thing. He’s right in front of you, yet your heart is already aching.

When you kiss him, it’s full of desperation. That’s what you’re both feeling. You’re both desperate to change your minds, to stay together forever, to ignore everything that’s happened in the last few days and go back to your normal relationship. But what’s just happened… you can’t go back from that. Not safely.

His hands move to your hips, pulling you against him the way he always does when he needs to be inside of you right now. You can feel the outline of his abs through the thin undershirt that’s two sizes too small on him, making him look as strong as Superman. With one hand staying on your belt loop—keeping you tight against him—his other hand moves to your neck. He brushes his thumb over the permanent bite mark just below your ear.

You shiver. That mark is always sensitive to the touch, like a bruise that will never heal. But when he touches it... it's hard to explain. It’s like it doesn’t hurt, but instead starts a fire inside of you. It makes you uncontrollable. Completely thirsty. But not for his blood. Just thirsty for him. For every part of himself that he can give to you.

You pull back from him to take your shirt off. Your bra goes next. He rakes his eyes over your body even though he’s seen you naked too many times to count. But your body is different now. Your muscles are more defined. There’s a faint line creating a ghost of a two-pack on your stomach. Your arms are no longer flabby but curved with a small amount of muscle. And your skin is paler than before—a reminder that, though you died and came back, you didn’t return the same. Death kept a part of you and refused to give it back.

The first time he had seen you, he had demanded an explanation. Your body had changed too quickly for it to be natural. So you had told him the story. Explained that going out to a bar and deciding to walk home alone after you’d had too many drinks had been a stupid idea. But you hadn’t run into a robber or a rapist. You had run into something much worse. The attack had been in the darkness of an unfamiliar alley, and whoever had done it had moved too fast for you to get a glimpse of their face. You had bleed out quick, only remembering how cold you were before your heart stopped. The next thing you knew, you were up and walking home—as if you hadn’t died but merely blacked out for a few seconds. The thirst was so strong, drying up your throat until you couldn’t breathe, and you found an old woman—she probably had kids, most likely had grandkids, and what you had done to her was despicable, you were no better than a serial killer—and in seconds she dead. Your thirst had been quenched enough for you to return home, and that’s when you had found Walter.

He didn’t believe you at first. You couldn’t blame him. Vampires or whatever you now were—they only existed in books. They weren’t a real thing. But your existence proved that they were. When he finally came to terms with it, he didn’t kick you out the way you had expected him to. If anything, it had managed to make you closer. It was strange, the effect your change had had on him. But he was suddenly a lot more open about everything he was thinking and feeling.

And then the worst thing imaginable had happened. He had taken a trip up to your family’s cabin for the weekend just to spend some time with his daughter. But she had gotten homesick halfway through the second day and her mom came to pick her up. Walter was sad for sure, but he had stayed up north for one more day. The woods are his happy place. He hadn’t been ready to leave yet. On Sunday night, eight hours before he had to clock in for work, he had finally decided to drive back to the city. He needed some time with you—more accurately, he needed some time inside of you. He was just at the edge of the northern redwoods when he had been bombarded by a pack of wolves. They had destroyed his truck (he was mainly pissed about that; his truck was his baby and he had put thousands of dollars into it, and the fact that it had been completely demolished definitely raged him) and forced him onto the street, alone and unprotected, save for the gun he kept in the backseat. But the bullets went right through the wolves as if they barely felt it. That was when Walter knew he was fucked. He started running, hoping they would leave him alone once he reached the outskirts of the city, but they were quicker than him. A lot quicker than him. It took less than a minute for one of them to reach him and drag their claws down his back, marking him, forever changing him. He hadn’t died—miraculously. But he felt the shift. His wounds had sealed up within a matter of minutes. His senses were stronger; his heart now beat slower, steadier. He had turned on the wolves and growled—a sound that sounded more animal than man—and they had run off. As soon as he made it home—as soon as the two of you saw each other—you both felt it. Being close to him—touching him—was like a knife slicing open your skin.

You suddenly understand why the myth of wolves and vampires hating each other exists. You don’t think it’s because they hate each other, but rather that being close to one another… it affects your life force. As you stand in front of him now, you feel the pain in your chest. You have no doubt that he does too. But you both ignore it in the moment. You’re going to share this last time with him. After, you’ll leave. You’ll stay away. For both of your sakes. But you’re going to have him now. One last time.

He lifts you with ease and lies you out on the bed before him. You watch him undress. Something about the way he lifts his shirt over his head and undoes his belt before pulling his zipper down—it’s achingly sexy. You lick your lips and squeeze your legs together, aching to feel him inside of you. He takes his time undressing. It’s partly because he wants to savor these last moments with you, partly because he knows that he’s driving you insane.

His body is perfect. Seeing him naked always has the same effect on you. You see the thick muscles of his long body, see the swirls of dark hair marking his arms and chest and stomach, tracing a teasing line to his hardened cock, and it makes your brain short circuit. It doesn’t help that his scent is stronger now. It’s been like that for the last few weeks; all your senses had grown stronger, just as his have. You can smell the minty cedar smell that is purely Walter. It’s strong right now, so strong it’s intoxicating. His arousal makes his scent impossible to ignore. With the way his pupils have dilated as he looks at you, it’s clear that he can smell your arousal too.

He moves to straddle you, holding your wrists down with his hands as he moves his mouth down your body. If you’re ice, he’s a flame, warming all the places where goosebumps rise on your skin. He licks a strip over your mark. The simple touch makes you throw your head back as you arch against him. You whisper his name as your desperation grows. His lips trace a ghost of a touch down your shoulders and chest. When he reaches your breasts, he bites each nipple gently, just hard enough to make them harden as you moan.

“I think I’m going to miss the sounds you make for me most of all,” he breathes against your skin.

There’s a rush of contradicting emotions that course through you. Arousal because when he talks to you in that low, husky voice, your walls clench uncontrollably, needy for him. And pain because… the fact that this is your last time with him is killing you, ripping you apart piece by piece.

“Don’t think about it, bunny,” he says, smelling the sadness that radiates off of you. “This is all that exists. It’s just you and me.”

Bunny—that’s his nickname for you. With his staggering height and thick build, you look tiny next to him. He’s your big bear and you’re his tiny bunny. It makes you soft every time he says it. But when he calls you by that nickname when he’s fucking you so hard you’re literally crying, it makes you instantly cum. Something about that soft, innocent name falling from his mouth as he fucks the life out of you—it makes you dizzy.

Now it makes you whimper. But he ignores your pleas for him to fill you up, opting instead to trace his mouth over your skin as slow as possible. You laugh when he moves his mouth over your belly button, knowing that that’s your ticklish spot. You fight against his hands, trying to push him away, and you feel him chuckle against your skin. The brush of his beard against that spot makes it even more ticklish.

“Walter!” you cry out as you laugh uncontrollably. “Walt—stop! I can’t take it anymore! Please!”

He stops only because he moves back to look you in the eyes. “I’m going to make sure you’re screaming that five minutes from now.”

Your funny mood instantly switches back to lustful. It’s crazy—the way he can flip your emotions so quickly. You’ve never gotten used it. And now you never will.

He brings his mouth to yours, kissing you the way he does when he’s trying to make you feel better. You sense a fraction of pain on his body, but he fights to push it back. He does a better job than you can.

He pulls away, releasing your wrists to move to brush his mouth over your hips, leaving soft kisses over each. And then he rips your jeans off faster than you can blink. He doesn’t bother to be so careful with your panties though, instead opting to rip them apart until they’re in shreds. The wolf in him is stronger than he had been before, but you have no doubt he could have done that before he’d had any supernatural ability. He takes in the sight of your pussy hungrily—eyeing the way your folds are already soaked. And then he breathes in deeply, humming as he scents your arousal stronger than before. The look he gives you makes you moan.

But he’s not done teasing you. He leans back on his knees and brings your leg to his shoulder, slowly kissing his way up your calf. As he reaches the inside of your knee, he gives it a playful bite.

“Careful.” You mean to say it in a daunting voice, but with how you breathless you are, it comes out as a moan. “I might bite you back.”

His eyes meet yours. “What makes you think I don’t want you to?”

Your body reacts before your mind can catch up. You pull him down until he’s hovering over you again. You’re quick to run your fingers through his hair and tug his neck to the side. He releases a breathless sigh as you lick a stripe up his neck, seconds before you bite into his skin. You only intend to give him a playful bite, maybe even leave him a hickey. But you feel those sharp fangs latch onto his burning skin, and then you’re drinking from him before you can stop yourself and—

Oh.

Fuck.

His blood is like nectar on your tongue. It’s more than the best wine you’ve ever tasted. It’s indescribable. You don’t know if you can ever stop. You want more, more, more. It tastes like how having him inside of you feels. Did that even make sense?

But then his hands are gripping you tight as he’s pulling away from you, looking down at you with intense eyes that simultaneously startles you and turns you on.

“Walter I’m sorry—” you begin. He won’t hear of it.

“Now it’s my turn,” he growls.

It takes you a second to understand what he means, but a second later he slides his cock inside of you with one hard thrust, not bothering to prep you before. You cry out as your walls struggle to adjust to his size.

“Walter!” you cry out, trying to catch your breath.

But then he’s thrusting inside of you, moving faster than humanly possible, and the sounds he makes can only be described as animalistic. He’s released the wolf inside of him as is now using you the way he wants, just as you had done to him.

It’s a true shame that wolves and vampires can’t be around each other because the sex is the best thing on earth.

You cling to him desperately, your fingers leaving marks on his stomach as he continues to use your body. He’s a predator and you’re his chosen prey for the night. He grips the headboard just above you, needing something to steady him as he fucks you so good that you’re already cumming. He growls as he feels your cunt squeeze around him.

“Fuck, baby!” you cry out. The pleasure is so good that your vision is blurring. “Oh my god, oh—”

He growls, his thrusts turning impossibly harder, and he’s splitting your body apart, making your heart pound out of your chest because he’s so relentless and pounding into your g-spot until you’re squirting around his cock—

The sound of snap makes you pause. You look up to see that he’s snapped the headboard apart. His fingers have turned into claws and that shouldn’t be as hot as it is but suddenly you’re screaming because this want is killing you it’s burning you alive and—

He cries—actually cries out—as he cums inside of you. His seed coats your walls. It’s never-ending. You wonder if this is a wolf thing, the exponential amount of cum he’s unloading inside of your cunt. But you don’t mind it at all—you fucking love it.

The stench of sex fills the room, making you dizzy.

You can’t help but think this has ended too soon, and you wish it had been slow—

And then he’s thrusting inside of you again. You gape up at him. Does he suddenly have no refractory period? You don’t get a chance to ask him, though, because he’s fucking you so good again that you’ve forgotten all words.

It goes on like this for a while. You lose all sense of time, forget about everything except where you end and he begins. He cums inside of you two, three, four times before you’re both exhausted past the point of moving.

You lie beside each other, trying to catch your breath. His cum continues to slip out of you, coating the sheets beneath you. Walter’s breathing slows before yours does. You turn on your side to face him and drag your finger across the place where you had bitten him. Because of his quick healing abilities, it’s barely more than a faint mark on his skin.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “I didn’t mean to lose control like that—”

“Don’t.” He pauses, taking a second to look you over. “It was fucking sexy.”

You frown. “It was?”

The corner of his mouth turns up in a smile. “I think… maybe it’s just as pleasurable for the people you bite as it is for you.”

You can’t do anything but stare at him. “I don’t know if that’s possible. I mean, when I drink from someone… it’s better than doing drugs. It’s pure ecstasy.”

He just stares at you.

“You—you felt like that too?” you wonder.

He brushes a thumb across your cheek. “Why do you think it made me lose control?”

“I thought… I thought you were mad at me.”

“No way.” The way he stares at you… you’re tempted to go for another round, but your body aches with fatigue. “It was the best thing I’ve ever felt. I have half a mind to ask you to drink from me every single day because that… I almost came right then and there. I just had to fuck you.”

You blush as he pulls you in for a kiss. It’s not full of heat and desire this time. Instead, it’s soft and sweet and loving. It conveys so much more than either of you can express in words.

You fall asleep minutes after. His arms are wrapped around you like a protective bubble, just like he does every night you sleep together. In the middle of the night, when the streets are still and quiet, you manage to unwrap yourself from his arms without waking him. He turns on his side and begins to snore. Strangely, you realize that that’s a sound you’ll miss.

You’re quiet as you dress yourself. The long coat you throw over your sweatshirt and long sleeve shirt has his scent all over it. So do your beanie and gloves. It will be hard to forget him. To walk away from this and not look back.

You’re halfway through wrapping your scarf around your neck when you pause. An idea pops into your mind. A second later you’re putting the scarf on top of his dresser. He’ll find it when he wakes up, just after he realizes that you’ve already left him. And then he’ll press it to his chest and take a big whiff of it. Your scent is all over it. It will be something he can hold onto on the nights when he lets himself think of you, when he misses you so much that it’s tearing him apart. You know keeping it here will make him move on slower. It’s terribly selfish, you know, but you’re too selfish to let him easily forget you.

You leave the house before you can talk yourself out of it. The street is covered in several inches of snow. Snowflakes continue to float down around you. One quick check of your phone tells you that it’s 1:45 in the morning. The date reads January 1st.

“Happy New Year’s, Walter.” You let yourself look back at the house one more time. “You’re the best love I’ve ever had, and ever will. I hope the new year brings you new love. I hope you don’t completely fall apart from this the way I will.”

And then you walk away, your footsteps the only sound on the entire street.

...

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[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

Born Into the Wilds - Around the Fire

Since I can use my fingers normally again, have the new chapter! AO3 link here.

Where Nyx' friends are pltting little shits (he loves them anyway), a story is told and a secret is revealed that isn't really a secret anymore. Featuring: Crowe's hidden dream, Luche sulking in the backround, respectTM for the story tellers and some very strong alcohol.

Hadnissa words:

bamohna (dative singular of bamohn): hot spice native to Galahd, tastes a bit like curry kreitschi: very thin skewered meat mostly done with bamohn and chili, Galahd native dish galahkari (nomiative plural of galahkar): person of Galahdian origin/Galahdian sinehär: the Elder gisdrauht: story teller/keeper of history thuirs (genitive singular of thuir): Father fumir: Galahdian national drink, fermented garula milk with spices (exact recipes vary from region to region)

Nyx’ side pulled in a mildly painful way with each too sudden movement of his torso, as Libertus and Crowe herded him along, cheerfully chatting all the way. They walked through the streets of Little Galahd, air filled with lively chattering in a mix of accented Lucian and Hadnissa, and heavy with the smell of exhaust fumes, grilled meat and spicy bamohna.

It gave him that feeling of not-quite-home he had become familiar with.

“Seriously, guys, what’s this about? I’m out of that white prison for like half a second and then I get abducted by you two,” he complained, totally exasperated with his best female friend and his hunting brother.

“We’re going to see an expert,” asserted Crowe in a stern voice for the third time before she went back to bickering with Libertus about the ancestors knew what.

Well, that wasn’t at all unhelpful.

He huffed in exasperation and glared at the tattoo-shop on the side of the street between a butcher’s shop and one concentrating on traditional leatherworks that had opened not too long ago. The owner was one of those assholes who thought he could profit off of a foreign culture only to be surprised that no one would give him the time of day. They only stopped to get a kreitschi each for dinner from one of the street vendors with tattoos not unlike Nyx’ on his fingers.

Nyx relished in the sharp bite of the bamohn and sweet chili after two days of tasteless hospital mush. How the Lucians could eat their food tasting like nothing he would never know. Maybe that’s why they were always such dickheads.

He got herded up a flight of rickety metal stairs and when he saw the house they were heading towards, he abruptly stopped walking. Or he would have, if Libertus hadn’t walked into him. He coughed on the piece of meat he’d choked on. Tears sprang into his eyes as the hot spices went down the wrong pipe. All the spirits, was that painful.

“Man, Nyx your face!” laughed Libertus. “You alright?”

Nyx shot him a dark look after he got his breathing back under control. His throat still burned something fierce but that he could do nothing about right now.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” he said.

Crowe heaved an exasperated sigh, hands on her hips, like his sister used to do when she was losing her patience with him. The thought made his heart twinge painfully and he unconsciously tugged at the mourning braid, he carefully maintained, even after all these years.

“Seriously, Nyx. Weren’t you listening? I told you a million times by now we would go see an expert for this!” she said.

“I didn’t think you meant that kind of expert!”

She shot him an are-you-dumb look, he didn’t bother dignify with an answer. It was kind of true he supposed. He should’ve known what they meant when they had picked him up at the hospital with shit-eating grins on their faces and a manic glint in Crowe’s eyes. She’d always had a talent and interest for magic.

“Up, up, you hero. We don’t want to be late,” grinned Libertus and proceeded to push him up the rest of the stairs until they reached the old concrete building with the surprisingly large inner courtyard where the stories were told once every five days and during every celebration.

Here the elders lived with the best things they could be afforded. Since governmental support amounted to basically nothing the Galahkari had started to pool resources, not only for the elders but also for the orphans and those who couldn’t earn money themselves. It worked, if only barely.

Pelna was waiting for them at the entrance of the courtyard with Luce standing next to him, his face a grimace of I-don’t-want-to-be-here. Tredd, Axis, Sonitus and a few other Glaives, most of them had been on his last assignment, loitered not too far away. Already Nyx could hear the telltale sounds of even more people behind the entrance. He would like to go home now, please. He had no desire for people to ogle him like he was some kind of attraction.

Before he could think of an effective escape plan however, Pelna saw them, grinned and waved like the cheeky bastard he was. “Damn. Didn’t think you would actually manage it,” he said.

“Did you doubt my power of persuasion?” asked Crowe with a playfully pointed look.

“Of course not,” laughed Pelna.

Nyx just rolled his eyes and wondered how these were his best friends. “Let’s just get this over with,” he grumbled and trudged past Luche who looked at him with a carefully blank face, into the courtyard.

“Oh come on, hero. You don’t need to act like you’re going towards your execution,” called Libertus and hurried after him, followed by the others.

The courtyard was already full of people standing in clusters, talking animatedly and clothed in colourful garments one didn’t normally see in drab and proper Insomnia. At the centre stood a barrel in which a fire burned merrily. The air smelled of smoke and old history.

He breathed in deep, soaked the atmosphere up like a drowning person needed air. Maybe, just maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea. Why hadn’t he come more often to gatherings like these? A spike of homesickness made him want to grimace. Ah, that’s why.

The voices floating around him hushed as Istoria Patientia stepped up to the fire. She was an old woman, closer to ninety than eighty, shrunken and marked by the war like so many of them were, but her eyes were sharp and clear. Her long white hair was twisted into a myriad of braids, the most prominent designating her as a sinehär gisdrauht. One of the five that still lived.

There were no seats or any other accommodation as the people stepped closer to the fire, Nyx included. When a gisdrauht wanted to tell a story you listened. They never did so without reason, there was always something to learn.

Istoria’s gaze swept over the crowd and hung a few seconds too long on Nyx for his liking. He felt the fine hairs on his neck stand on end and that animal-deep jungle-instinct spark again in anticipation. Whatever happened this evening would be important, he could feel it. She dipped her head into a slight nod and watched the crowds a few seconds longer before she took a deep breath and started to recite in that hypnotic rhythm all stories were told in.

Her voice was scratchy with age but loud and clear and carried well through the confines of the courtyard where no Lucian eye could see them.

 Come, come closer to the fire and let me tell you a story. Listen well, for this is a story told to me by my father and mother who were told by their father and mother back until the first people stepped into the arms of Galahd and the world was younger.

The day the last of the white coeurls, great guardians of Galahd, left his pack was one of joy and great sorrow. He roamed through the deep shadows driven by something he could not name. Dreams had plagued him, dreams of blood and pain and a knife forged by green mists, keeping him awake and restless.

Dreams are dreams his pack told him but he thought differently and so he went out more and more often for longer and longer amounts of time, always searching for anything that could help. After a new bout of restless nights he searched again, high and low for many circles of the sun and moon and yet didn’t find anything. Only trees and more shadows where secrets lay he couldn’t even begin to decipher.

But finally, many days after leaving, he came upon a hill where an old hollow tree stood, guarded by crows and Naga’s kin. He knew who lived here. The ever-young, she, who danced with the storms. The witch the humans called wise.

The last white coeurl came near and the crows laughed. He swiped his sharp claws at them but they only ruffled their feathers and laughed louder. It followed him over the threshold of the hollow tree.

“You’re finally here. Come in, the knife is finished,” said the Wise Witch.

She stepped up to him, her long black hair braided in the ways of the oldest traditions. In her hand she carried a knife he knew well, for it was the blade he saw in his dreams full of blood and pain. He hissed at her in warning, but she did not hesitate as she laid the knife down in front of him.

It was a short one edged blade with a hook at the backside and a sturdy grip made out of pale wood. Dark green runes adorned it, pulsing in time to the white coeurl’s heartbeat.

“Soon, there will come a day where you will need this. Take it. The payment will be the pains you will feel for the rest of your life should you decide to use it,” the Wise Witch said and went back to her glasses full of herbs and magic as if the last white coeurl was nothing but air to her and maybe he was, for she was as old as the lands themselves.

He stood there, bristling, but he knew what happened to those who didn’t heed the Wise Witches words. So he took the knife and turned to the way back home, the crows’ laughter echoing in his ears. It took him many days until he stepped back onto the cliff that was his pack’s home.

The smell of blood and death greeted him and his trot became a run. What he found was a woman with braids in her hair and who spoke the tongue of beasts burying the last of his pack.

Thus the last of the white coeurls, great guardians of Galahd, met Adrastea, she who speaks the tongue of beasts. His blood yet lives to continue the task he inherited from his pack and has been passed down until this day.

 Nyx stood there rooted to his spot next to Libertus, staring at the fire. He watched it flicker and dance as Istoria told a story he had first heard at his thuirs knee when he was too little to remember it. The words were the same but something was different.

A coeurl ran through the flames as the last words were spoken and silence settled upon the gathering. People blinked as if woken from a spell and a low murmuring started as children asked questions and parents answered.

The prickling sensation on the base of his neck made it clear that there were people watching him. He suppressed a shudder. “Well, that wasn’t helpful at all,” he muttered.

Crowe dug her elbow into his uninjured side. “Shut it. You know the sinehär gisdrauhti never tell-”

“Never tell a story without reason. Yes, I know.”

She shot him a dark look, causing him to sigh and duck his head.

“You know, you would’ve been a great gisdrauht if your thuirs family had allowed you to take their name,” he said as way of an apology.

Her sharp gaze softened to something young and vulnerable, a slight smile curling at her lips. It lasted for only the fraction of a second before the sarcastic woman was back again.

“The very best,” chimed Libertus and got a thump on the upper arm for his trouble. He made a face and cursed.

“Nyx of Clan Ulric,” said Istoria causing all five to stop and look at her. She stood hunched over on her cane a smile on her wizened face. “Come to the fire. There we may talk.”

He nodded and with a muttered “Of course, sinehär” followed the old woman, after a few quick goodbyes, back to the barrel. His friends weren’t following, not having been invited and everybody still remaining kept a respectful distance.

For a while Istoria just looked at him, her brown eyes took on an eerie orange sheen in the fire light. Then she tapped an earthen pot that was half buried in hot coals at the base of the barrel and pulled out two earthen cups from her many layers of colourful patched skirts and said: “Be a dear, Nyx of Clan Ulric, and pour us a cup each. All that story telling makes me thirsty in my old age.”

Obediently Nyx bent down and picked up the pot that looked like a mix between a carafe and a Lucian teapot with a wavy pattern that reminded him of the sea, by the handle formed to look like a sea serpent. It was nicely lacquered in turquoise and shades deep sea blue. He filled the identical cups that matched the pot and set it back down.

The smell alone told him at once what it was. Fumir. Istoria gave him a cup and he took a careful sip after she did and nearly choked. Very strong and very spicy fumir. It burnt all the way down and settled like a warm ball of sunshine in his stomach. Thank the ancestors he had eaten something before coming here.

Istoria shot him a mischievous grin like she knew exactly what he was thinking, and then she grew serious again. “Did you know that until the days of Adrastea no Ulric has ever had blue eyes? Grey certainly, sometimes green and even Solheimr golden, but never blue.”

Nyx felt his eyebrows climb to his hairline. He had an inkling of where this was going and he wasn’t sure he liked it, but he kept his mouth shut. Not only was she the oldest member of their community still alive and a gisdrauht, but also because he knew she wouldn’t hesitate to whop him with her cane if he did and he really didn’t need that with so many people still around as potential witnesses.

“Blue came after and with it a spark, so to speak. What I’m about to tell you, Nyx of Clan Ulric, has been a secret of your Clan for as long as its members have had blue eyes. Your father entrusted me with it before his untimely death to tell you, should the time ever come, since he knew he wouldn’t live long enough for him to do it himself.”

That caused Nyx to stand up straight, eyes wide and mouth open. That was… of course it had to have been a Clan secret he had no clue about. His father had died of Creeping Vine’s disease when he had been five and Selena two and his father’s older brother had died just a year before and none of his children had taken his Clan Name. Two of his cousins were still alive and in Insomnia, even, but refused to talk to him since he had joined the Kingsglaive, despite the debt they owed the King.

“I thought I would have to ask Libertus for help,” he burst out before his brain could catch up and promptly drank another gulp of the warm and too strong fumir to keep him from humiliating himself any further. Ahtrii, he wished he was anywhere but here.

“A viable option, but unnecessary,” the old woman chuckled. “Even if it would have been interesting to see young Libertus of Clan Ostium try to find and convince a snake. They can be very unhelpful if they want to be. Especially here on the mainland.”

Nyx grinned at the mental image. That would have made a suitably embarrassing tale for Libertus’ wedding should he ever decide to marry someone.

“Now, according to Ilias, the Clan of Ulric belongs to those with a close connection to an animal, but that was already obvious. When he came to me a large part of his veins had already turned green and his hands shook so bad he couldn’t hold a cup anymore without spilling half of it. He looked me into the eyes and said: ‘Contrary to popular believe the Ulrics don’t change into coeurls, we never have. What we do have is the ability to copy what makes a coeurl a coeurl and use it ourselves. We can see like them, hear like them, even move like them, but we’re still human and that’s the important difference.’ I have heard many a tale of you doing exactly that but now you have come into a degree of power not seen in your Clan for many generations. The Lady of Beasts has blessed you.”

With a startling clarity he remembered what had happened during his First Hunt, when he had been all of nine years old. There, in the clearing full of flowers, he had met her. The Great Coeurl. She had treated him like an unruly cup of her pack. At least that made some amount of sense now.

“I… thank you for telling me, sinehär,” he managed to say, his mind strangely fuzzy. Damn, that drink was way too strong to be just a regular cup of fumir. No wonder Istoria kept living on and on if she used this to shock her heart back into pace again. He felt old, gnarly fingers taking the near empty cup from him, and blinked down at his empty hand.

“Go back to your hunting party, Nyx of Clan Ulric and, for once, let them take care of you. Sleep, eat and then you can keep running off into your adventures again,” said Istoria with an air of exasperated tenderness as she gently tapped his leg with her cane to make him turn around.

Nyx really, really wanted to protest, but he knew if he opened his mouth now, nothing coherent would come out. So he did the sensible thing and did as told.

“And tell my grandson I would like to see him for dinner tomorrow evening,” Istoria called after him.

His friends took one look at him before herding him out of the courtyard and towards his apartment building. He didn’t look that bad, did he? Somehow he managed to mumble the invitation to Luche, or at last he thought he did, if he remembered his friend’s grimace right. After that it was all a blur of different colours, shapes and sounds until he felt himself being wrapped into a blanket, then he was out like a light.

[grandeguerra100]

28 Giugno 1919, a Parigi, nel Salone degli Specchi di Versailles, lo stesso luogo che aveva visto nel 1871 la proclamazione del Reich tedesco dopo la vittoria della guerra franco-prussiana, viene firmato tra le nazioni alleate e la Germania il trattato che sancisce ufficialmente la fine della Grande Guerra.

La sala, approntata in fretta e furia, è piena di gente che vuole assistere a un evento di tale portata storica. I tedeschi nominano i propri rappresentanti all'ultimo minuto, è difficile trovare qualcuno che acconsenta a legare il proprio nome alle imposizioni del trattato. Alla fine sono fatti due nomi: Herman Müller, socialista da poco diventato Ministro degli Esteri, e e il nuovo Ministro delle Colonie, Johannes Bell del Partito Cattolico di Centro. Ironicamente il primo atto di Bell da Ministro delle Colonie è firmare il trattato che prevede, tra i vari punti, proprio la cessione delle colonie. Buon per lui gli è già stato concesso il portafoglio di Ministro dei Trasporti.

La cerimonia è breve, Clemenceau, il primo ministro francese, parla poco e i delegati tedeschi mentre entrano per la firma del trattato sembrano quasi dei prigionieri in attesa di sentire una sentenza. La cerimonia dura 50 minuti e finisce senza alcuna fanfara, così come è iniziata. L'ultimo a firmare è il ministro degli esteri uruguaiano. Non ci vorrà molto prima che il trattato incominci a mostrare tutti i suoi limiti...

Nella prima illustrazione, la firma del trattato da parte dei due delegati tedeschi. Quanti personaggi riuscite a riconoscere?

ENGLISH:

June 28, 1919, in Paris, in the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles, the same place that had seen in 1871 the proclamation of the German Reich after the victory of the Franco-Prussian war, the treaty that officially marks the end of the Great War is signed between the Allied nations and Germany.

Workers hurry to get the room ready, and as the ceremony begins the room is packed with people who want to attend an event of such historic importance. The Germans do not nominate their representatives until the last minute, it is not so easy to find someone who is willing to put his name on such a humiliating treaty. Eventually, two men are named as signatories: Herman Müller, a socialist recently appointed Foreign Minister, and the new Minister for the Colonies, Johannes Bell of the Center Catholic Party. Ironically, Bell's first act as Minister for the Colonies is to sign away the very colonies for which he had just assumed responsibility. Good for him, he has already been granted the portfolio of Minister of Transport.

The ceremony is brief, Clemenceau, the French prime minister, speaks shortly and the German delegates enter the room looking like prisoners about to hear their sentences. The ceremony ends after 50 minutes, without any fanfare, as it began. The last to sign is the Uruguayan foreign minister. It won't be long before the treaty begins to show all its limits ...

In the first illustration, the signing of the treaty by the two German delegates. How many characters do you recognize?

[ygoreviews]

Gearfried the Iron Knight ———————————————— When an Equip Card(s) is equipped to this card: Destroy that Equip Card(s). ———————————————— Can Be Found In: Dark Beginning 1 (DB1-EN204), Pharaoh's Servant (PSV-EN101), Structure Deck: Warrior's Triumph (SD5-EN005), Retro Pack 2 (RP02-EN025), Legendary Collection 4: Joey's World Mega Pack (LCJW-EN030), Duelist Pack : Battle City (DPBC-EN022), Legendary Decks II (LDK2-ENJ12), Starter Deck: Joey (SDJ-012), 2003 Booster Pack Tins (BPT-012)

During the first years of the game there was a recurring theme where monsters with high ATK will have some sort of demerit. Mostly arround Level 4 and below monsters, either they had a brief usage the moment are summoned or will have a big restriction to have any sort of prevalence even in casual play. While some lucky monsters were able to stand out thanks to cards like "Skill Drain" assisting them, many others were either easily obsolete as stronger choices became available, or gained a particular gimmick to turn a disadvantage into a powerful setup.

"Gearfried the Iron Knight" is a popular monster among fans of the original series, gaining various counterparts over the years including a version part of the Red-Eyes archetype due its position in both manga an anime. But despite being a recognizable creature "Gearfried" only offers respectable stats and a drawback, in which any Equip Card attached to it will be automatically destroyed. This pretty much makes "Gearfried" unable to boost its stats with Equip Spells, but digging trough its possibilities makes it more than a mere demerit. Gaining some reputation with the infinite combos created by the banned card "Butterfly Dagger - Elma", "Gearfried" not only becomes the core card of some Equip Cards with effects triggered once they leave the field, but alternatively has a nomi form to instead take a different approach with said group of cards.

When comes to support, "Gearfried" is in a decent position regardless of our approach with its abilities. "Reinforcement of the Army" is able to search for any Level 4 Warrior from the Deck, becoming a staple choice among monsters of this Type. Alternatively we can directly summon it from inside the Deck, by either "Summoner Monk" at cost of a Spell Card or "M-X Saber Invoker" once uses its Xyz materials. In later turns don't be afraid to revive "Gearfried" by cards like "Call of the Haunted" or "Oasis of Dragon Souls", as despite their effects' behavior they aren't treated as Equip Cards.

The efficiency of "Gearfried" will vary depending of the Equip Cards we invest our Deck with. While its effect can avoid certain threats like "Mark of the Rose" or Graydle monsters, in most circumstances will be our own cards that "Gearfried" will use its effect on. This mostly goes to cards with effects activated when destroyed, like "Blast with Chain" destroying a target on the field or "Smoke Grenade of the Thief" forcing the opponent to discard a card. But if we really want to increase the stats of "Gearfried", either we play along cards like "Solidarity" and "Gaia Power" boosting a particular group of monsters, or use "Fusion Sword Murasame Blade" as one of the few Equip Cards able to ignore its demerit. The other method to play arround this monster is to become material of the Spell Card "Release Restraint" to summon "Gearfried the Swordmaster", taking the opposite approach with Equip Cards where will destroy opponent's monsters each time we use them on this new form. With cards like "Hidden Armory" and "Power Tool Dragon" allowing us to search for Equip Spells, is quite possible for "Gearfried the Swordmaster" not only power up itself but also clear entire boards on its own for a devastating direct attack.

"Gearfried the Iron Knight" is a quite interesting monster, as if is not turning into "Gearfried the Swordmaster" to lead the board along Equip Cards it will use them to take advantage of its biggest demerit. Equip Cards with effects when destroyed will provide their benefits as soon they are played on "Gearfried", often getting rid of several cards at once with this monster's mere pressence. Otherwise the effect of "Gearfried" can be used to avoid some opponent's Equip Cards from affecting its performance, something probably situational yet valuable to point out when facing certain Decks. Regardless of taking advantage of its effect or summoning its "Swordmaster" form is clear that "Gearfried" requires its own Deck for its full potential, but with high ATK and some passive effects to assist us might be able to have some prevalence outside its popular setups.

Personal Rating: B

+ Solid stats + Unique mechanics arround Equip Cards with effects once are destroyed + Well supported arround its effect or "Gearfried the Swordmaster"

- Any Equip Card will be destroyed when equipped to it - Countering opponent's Equip Cards with its effect is situational - Requires its own Deck for its full potential

[elenacye529046]

10 Legal Uses For Your Specific Marijuana Seeds

Top price for Redwood Lodge CBD Review meds at this "out-of-the-way" location is $55 an 8th. This is the closest dispensary to Poway / Scrips. Saturdays, Miramar Wellness sells a special "4 gram eighth", prices as marked on the daily choices. On Sunday, Redwood Lodge CBD Reviews Lodge CBD Review make a small donation towards Center obtain a free joint. First-time patients get a free gram of mid-range meds. Amongst the largest selections of Sativa meds in San Gustav. Quinoa will be similar to rice, although i like the taste better. It packs more nutrition punch, too. This complete grain contains 5 grams of fiber and 11 grams of protein per half cup. Quinoa's protein is about 16 percent, which is higher than any other grain. At heart the conscious mind is really a creature of habit as well as doesn't like correct. Hence, if you introduce the thought of a `diet` then change will be anticipated and ignored. It will denote a difference in eating habits - a forceful adaption of current eating regime before you'll notice positive improvement.

The latest celebration regarding public holidays 2013 is Holi, the festival of colours. In 2013, people would play Holi in 27th March. This festival unites people all faiths, caste and ethnic background. It ends discrimination and makes friends. Traditionally people play this festival with colors and fluid. Cannabis is also consumed as part of started out. On this day, people forget almost all their differences and hug each-other with love and love. It is really a festival of friendship. Another explanation why makes young-people start taking drugs is peer stress. The social circle of young people matters a superb deal in the habits these people adopt. Quite sure people consider taking drugs cool, and fun, the opposite young-people in their circle somehow feel inferior to Cannabis Study people who take drugs, and think that they aren't cool good. Hence, a great reason for young-people to consider drugs that is their friends do so, and it is the trend, which needs to be followed. Organic Hemp seed and hemp seed oil has become increasingly you can get in your local specialty organizations. And for good reason too. Hemp seed has the largest quantity and most easily absorbed essential efas including both omega-3 and omega-6, very much than flaxseed! In addition to the loads of fatty acids, hemp provides protein, fiber and a number of other vitamins needed for good consuming routine. Hemp products can be found in all shapes, sizes and flavors. There is hemp milk, Redwood Lodge CBD Oil Benefits, hemp protein powders and so far, my personal favorite hemp oatmeal. Introducing hemp on the diet is an easy to be able to ensure you getting proper nutrition. Nomi: When you've got too much, right, but the thing is, for individuals who aren't that would using spices these mixes, like the Bombay Blend or an italian man , spices can be really a good bet. Yes acne breakouts can be borne from your secretions of sweat as well as the sebaceous glands. But there are various types of acne. The cystic acne like I had, would be a warning another thing was improperly. The doctor said my blood system was impure.

[percontaion-points]

Sense8 Fanfictions

Only Sense8 fanfics. New stuff is marked with a [NEW] before it.

Sense8

us, yesterday, apart, in the twilight by eudaimon

Description:

In Berlin, in Bombay, he is watching her dance.

Kala and Wolfgang move closer. It's inevitable, really.

Words:

2075

Timeline:

Post season 1

Pairing:

Wolfgang/Kala, minor mentions of Riley/Will and Nomi/Amanita

Rating:

Explicit

Warnings:

Sex

Ashes and Wine by Lynyrd Lionheart Description: She is lost and confused and in love but unable to stop imagining the blood on her hands, and somehow in those nightmares the stab wounds become bullet holes, and he's always the one holding the gun. Kalagang. Words: 2,730 Timeline: Post season 1 Pairing: Wolfgang/Kala Rating: M Warings: Mild sex, violence, mild mentions of PTSD (though it's never named, but that's what's going on...)

You're In My Heart by Kimmi_watch Description: It's Kala's second attempt at marrying Rajan, only this time, she's trying not to think of Wolfgang so he won't show up. And she's miserable. Words: 3144 Timeline: Post Season 1 Pairing: Wolfgang/Kala, Rajan/Kala, minor Riley/Will, Nomi/Amanita, hinted at Will/Lito Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic sex The first chapter is just sort of... meh. It's easy to tell that the author was just trying to rush into the Kalagang scenes. And you also have to sit through an unfortunate Kala/Rajan sex scene, but even Kala's all like "Dude... No." about the entire thing. But the scene between Kala and Wolfgang made everything worth it, I think.

the End and the Beginning by PreRaphaelites Description: Kala breaks under the strain of her emotions; Wolfgang avoids Kala. ..until he can't. Words: 3,639 Timeline: Post Season 1 Pairing: Wolfgang/Kala, minor Rajan/Kala Rating: Teen Warnings: Just a lot of angst, some mild mentions of sex but it's rated T for a reason There is a sequel, but it's not finished... yet

3907 Miles by eleanna99 Decription: Kala's father is in the hospital, she's falling apart and she needs her Cluster more than ever. But there are only six people in her head. Words: 5,550 Timeline: Post season 1 Pairing: Kala/Wolfgang Rating: T Warnings: It's a bit of a downer, dealing with Kala's dad in the hospital... but just some fluff.

i know you've suffered (i don't want you to hide) by the_crownless_queen Description: In which each of the sensates has more red threads looped around their fingers than anyone else, and they don't always know what to do with that. Words: 7203 Timeline: Each little chapter usually starts off with in the childhood of each of the sense8s, and then sometimes, goes until they're all linked. Pairing: Riley/Will, Riley/Magnus, Wolfgang/Kala, Hernando/Lito, Amanita/Nomi Rating: Not rated Warnings: There's a bunch of deaths of parents, and of course, Magus and Luna's death's. This is... interesting.

Sweet Child(ren) O Mine by timtom Description: “You kids.” Amanita says with an affectionate grin on her face as she surveys the scene before heading into the bathroom. “Screw your mum’s blessing, Noms, I feel like we’re old and married with a family already!” Or A snapshot of the cluster domestic life (and Nomi is inadvertently cluster mum) Words: 1459 Timeline: Post season 1 Pairing: Amanita/Nomi, Wolfgang/Kala, Hernando/Lito/Daniela Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None? It's just a nice little, slice of life fic

Wolfgang's Spontaneous Road Trip Through Germany by JennaCupcakes Description: After the events at his uncle's villa, Wolfgang goes on the run. Words: 2311 Timeline: Post season 1 Pairing: Wolfgang/Kala Rating: Teen Warnings: Hurt/comfort, and some fluff, I guess...

I've got two faces, blurrys the one I'm not. by Esyla Description: There are four large gashes across his chest and he has clearly been hit in the face a couple of times because there is blood on his lips and teeth. He looks up at her and the sneer on his face melts into wonder. "Beautiful," he whispers and then his eyes roll into the back of his head and he passes out. "Oh gods," Kala says, because she doesn't really know what else to say at this point. ---- Wolfgang is a the alpha of a telepathic werewolf pack. Kala works for a clinic that is part of an organization hunting werewolves. Based on a prompt from Kalaswolfgang on tumblr and the graphic by tessagreystairs Words: 8362 Timeline: Werewolf AU Pairing: Kala/Wolfgang, minor mentions of Lito/Hernando Rating: Mature Warnings: Some sex, although it's not overly grapic Violence

People Run in Circles by Raynidreams Description: A snap shot of what might happen post season 1. Kala and Wolfgang. Complete. Warnings for violence and dubcon - depending upon reading. Apologies for any mistranslations or editing errors. (Hopefully fixed now - 13/08/15) Words: 5406 Timeline: Post season 1 Pairing: Kala/Wolfgang Rating: M Warnings: Violence I know that it says some dubcon, but honestly, the only thing that they do is kiss, and in my mind, dubcon is only a step away from rape. And besides, even though Wolfie says no, we all know that he wants it.

it all started with the coffee... by impossibleredhead Description: props to rpfunstuff for the idea. i deviated a little from the plan, but y'know, these things can't be helped. who knew a cup of coffee could start a war. Words: 1842 Timeline: Post season 1 Pairing: Kala/Wolfgang, minor mentions of Riley/Will Rating: M Warnings: Male nudity and Kala's reaction towards it

Stuck in Reverse by thingcalledlove Descrption: Three times Wolfgang shows up out of the blue, and one time Kala does. Words: 1715 Timeline: Post season 1, I guess? Pairing: Kala/Wolfgang, minor mentions of Riley/Will, Lito/Hernando, Nomi/Amanita Rating: M Warnings: Sex, but it's not overly graphic

More Vivid Than Sunsets, Brighter Than Stars by wordslinging Description: "I won't go away just because you pretend I'm not here," Kala says after a moment when he doesn't turn around. "Trust me, I know." Words: 2677 Timeline: Post season 1 Pairing: Wolfgang/Kala Rating: Explicit Warnings: Sex

The Wingman by PreRaphaelites Description: AU where no one is a Sensate, Sun gives dating advice, Felix hits on Kala, and, yes, Wolfgang is his wingman. And somewhere in there is a one night stand. Maybe. Words: 4986 Timeline: Like the description says, AU where nobody is a sensate. Pairing: Main: Wolfgang/Kala Very minor, almost one-sided Felix/Kala, and Kala/Sun's brother (whatever the fuck his name is...) Rating: Teen Warnings: Mild mentions of sex, but it's rated T for a reason...

24 Weeks by MarzgaPerez Description: Will makes a discovery that brings conflicting emotions for his and Riley's future. This takes place a few months after the last episode of Season 1. Words: 954 Timeline: Post season 1 Pairing: Riley/Will Rating: General audiences Warnings: Just some cute fluff and happiness between Riley and Will and they get to share it with everybody.

What the Water Gave Us by JinxedAmbitions Description: Water seemed to be the perfect conductor for their connection, pulling them together harder and faster than anything else. Maybe she thought of him when it rained. Maybe he just thought of her in the quiet depths of the pool. Kala couldn't tell you why she found herself drawn to him then, but she could tell you it happened often. Five times Kala found herself drawn to Wolfgang and one time he returned the visit. Words: 6010 Timeline: Post season 1 Pairing: Kala/Wolfgang Rating: Teen Warnings: Wolfgang is naked a bunch of times, and once, he has an errection, and Kala reacts to that... but other than that, it's mostly just kissing.