carving in stone

GM: “Inside the tomb there is a stone carving of a skeleton. Coming out if it’s ribs is a T shaped handle sticking up, kind of like a old TNT plunger.”

AMORY: “I push it.”

GM: “It doesn’t move.”

AMORY: “I pull it.”

GM: “It doesn’t move.”

AMORY: “I twist it.”

GM: “It turns and there’s a click at the door on the far wall.”

AMORY: “I bop it.”

(whole tables loses it)

Siren Allure Spell

Originally posted by enchantinworld

Sirens are dangerous creatures, who lure nearby sailors with their enchanting music and voices to shipwreck on the rocky coast of their island. This spell is used to bring allure to your speaking and singing voice, to enchant those around you.  It is best used when a witch is wanting to kill it at an interview, dominate a speech, or perform like the greatest diva.  And it is so simple!

YOU WILL REQUIRE:

–tablespoon of honey
–bowl of sea salt
–glass of water

SPELLWORK:

  1. Begin outside.  (If you are near a body of water, this would be even better.)  Toss a pinch of salt in each of the four directions, saying:
    Northern sirens of rivers carving stone and dark depths, aid me.
    Eastern sirens of cliff drops into jetties and sea spray, aid me.
    Southern sirens of pale sands and hot lava rock, aid me.
    Western sirens of endless horizon and ancient shipwrecks, aid me.
  2. Make a circle with the remaining sea salt, large enough for you to stand in, and step into it.  Shut your eyes.  Envision the tide rolling in over your toes, kissing your ankles, and drawing you out waist deep.  
  3. Open your eyes and distribute your honey onto a spoon.  Recite the following chant:
    For words sweetened as fresh honey,
    for song as powerful as hurricane gales,
    for confidence as strong as undertow,
    for appearance as alluring as siren maidens.
    I am one with the sea and the sea is in me.
  4. Consume the honey.  Let its warmth spread over your tongue, along your teeth, down your throat, and into your stomach.  Concentrate on that heat and feel it spread through your veins.
  5. Taking your glass of water, drink the entirety of it.  When you are finished, say: My siren spell begins now and all will be enchanted.
  6. Step out of the circle and your spell is complete.  It should last one full day.

Hope this helps, darlings!

Things that make me happy~
  • Statues with beautiful drapery carved in stone
  • Cappuccinos with just the right about of foam
  • Captivating books with beautiful covers
  • Clothes that fit perfectly as soon as you try them on
  • Your favorite song coming on just when you were thinking about it
  • That fresh breeze of young spring
  • Empty galleries occupied by only you and the art
  • Beautifully plated meals

(A table of contents is available. This series will remain open for additional posts and the table of contents up-to-date as new posts are added.)

Part Seven: Don’t Neglect Action

Since dialogue is one of our main tools for passing information between characters about what’s happening not only in the plot but also in terms of character arcs and development, our stories can start to feel as though the action scenes are just cushions between talking scenes. I myself have felt sometimes as though I’m just hopping from conversation to conversation. It can be difficult to know when you’re striking the right balance between action and dialogue.

Know your focus.

Generally a scene will have a purpose to perform within the story as a whole. Maybe it’s to have a certain event take place or to showcase a character’s change in perspective. Think about what your goal with a scene is–and more often than not, a scene will have more than one! Depending on what the main point of the it is, a scene will tend one way or the other naturally, born out of that purpose.

Not every big developmental moment is built out of a dramatic conversation. The temptation toward melodramatic lines like in TV shows and movies is huge, but it can be just as powerful to keep something in just glances and actions your characters take. Conversely, not every moment comes out of a visual reveal. Don’t feel like you have to change the focus, but do consider new and interesting ways to serve that focus and whether its natural tendency toward narration or dialogue is the best option for it this time.

If it feels like your story is suffering a little from too many scenes of one or the other, try finding another way to convey the information that is the focus of the scene whether that’s switching a conversation to something more focused on your characters doing something or the other way around, toying with the trope may reveal a new way of doing things you hadn’t considered previously.

Stay aware of your flow.

It’s hard to do while writing, but luckily, first drafts aren’t meant to be carved in stone, so during your re-reads and re-drafts, make sure you’re concentrating on and conscious of the scenes that are built mostly of dialogue or action. It seems so tempting to alternate them, but creating that kind of rhythm can become wearing and predictable for the reader, and it really will start to feel as though you’re just hopping from conversation to conversation with pillows of action between (or the other way around). Instead, find ways to blend the flow together by finding scenes where action can happen at the same time as a conversation. Often, two scenes can be combined and their dual goals achieved simultaneously. It’s not the first idea that comes to us, but in much the same way that two side characters can be combined to the same functions, scenes may work better in your story by working together. Give it a try when you feel like the flow of a story is stunted by a split focus.

Dialogue and action work together.

Perhaps the most obvious of advice is simply the reminder that these two techniques–narration and speech–work together. While it’s certainly an option to have a scene exist completely as dialogue, or an entire scene solely be narration of action, “best practices” for writing say that you should try to mix the two into each of your scenes. The focus of your scene isn’t the only thing in there–there’s also the wind up to the focus and the transition out of that moment and into the next scene. Find ways to interweave actions with your conversations and the other way around so that things still continue to happen. The last thing we want is for our stories to come to a dead stop so two characters can talk.

Think about how you can give action to your characters. Not just any action, however, but action that progresses the story. Can you still describe the environment while they talk? Can you still give tidbits of backstory while they discuss? Can you observe mannerisms and culture and speech habits while they argue? Can they continue their banter while continuing to work? Blending narration with your dialogue will help you avoid the use of things like emphasis formatting and overuse of ellipses. Instead of relying on those tricks, your narration will provide the pause in beat that the ellipses represents. You’ll build your action and your characters in scenes together.

Distance matters.

Narration interspersed with dialogue can provide a unique challenge in that you’re asking your audience to pay attention to two threads at once: what’s being said, and what’s being done. It doesn’t seem too complex, and on the surface, it’s not, however it’s important to keep in mind with dialogue that the phrases being said by people are meant to be in response to each other (most times). Spreading the responses too far apart from each other with description and action can lead to confusion; readers may have to step back and reread the dialogue from before in order to see how the responses are related. That’s no good; it pulls your reader right out of the immersive experience you’ve built for them.

Ideally, narration in amongst your dialogue lines should be kept short: a couple of sentences, a minimal paragraph at most. If you do have to separate the lines substantially, try to recall what’s been said previously within the character’s response. Maybe they repeat part of the question, maybe they ask for clarification, maybe they’re sarcastic, who knows. Keep your audience connected with the conversation as best you can. Yes, you want it to feel like a natural conversation, but if your characters take the time to do something or observe something that takes more than a couple of paragraphs before getting back to what they were talking about, probably not even they are going to remember exactly where they left off. Help a reader out.

Next up: Remainder sentences!

Glorious Gems of MP - Tansen, the magical musician of Gwalior

Muhammad Ghaus (or Ghawth) was a 16th century Sufi saint and teacher of the Mughal emperor Humayun. As soon as we reached his tomb, I stood gazing at this marvelous 16th century Mughal architecture originally built by Akbar. Architecturally it is a square base with hexagonal towers mounted with domes at its corners.

It is covered on all sides with beautiful carved stone lattices. There are about 36-37 different intricate patterns and they are so fine, one can gaze at them till eternity.

When admiring the lattices, my eyes fell upon beautiful coloured threads that were tied around the tomb. It is believed that, people who visit this place and tie a knot with colourful threads get their prayers answered. I quickly went to a lattice, tied a thread and prayed with a lot hope and excitement!

The pleasant surprise was when I came to know that also buried in the same mausoleum complex is the great Miyaan Tansen, who drew Sufi influences in his music from Mohammad Ghaus. There’s probably not a single musical soul who hasn’t heard the name of Tansen. Although, what most do not know is that Ghaus was a very important mentor for Tansen.

Tansen was born in Gwalior and hence it is also known as Sangeet ki Nagri (the city of music). Born in a Hindu family, he started his career in the court of King Ram Chand of Gwalior. But Tansen’s music transcended all the barriers of religion, landing him to King Akbar’s court where he was considered one of the Navratnas (Nine Jewels). Tansen is widely considered as the founder of Hindustani classical music as we know it. After his death, he was buried according to Muslim customs by Akbar.

Tansen Samaroh, a national musical fest, happens every year near his tomb. Started in 1985 by the Scindia’s, this festival is held in the memory of Tansen. In this grand extravaganza, many renowned classical singers from all across the country come and deliver powerful performances, building a beautiful and a serene atmosphere, just the way it would have been in Akbar’s time.

Standing in front of the tomb took me back to my childhood and the wonderful legends that I had heard about Tansen from my father. His music is said to have resonated with everyone - from men and women to even animals and birds. Popular legend it that he once sang Raag Deepak (Song of Fire) in the court and the wicks of lamps burst into flame by the sheer power of his voice. And everyone knows that when Tansen sang the Raag Megh Malhar (Song of Rain), it actually rained that day.

Akbar was very fond of Tansen! So much so that once Akbar wanted to ride an elephant but it wasn’t tamed and nobody was unable to control him. Tansen sang to the elephant to calm him down after which the Emperor rode the elephant with utmost ease.

Near the tomb there is a renowned Tamarind tree and my guide said that chewing the leaves of this particular tree makes our voice sweeter to hear. I had to obviously take a few and ruminate on them with an incredible sense of childlike wonder, a wonder about magical tales like these that make our history so rich and popular. And so I chewed on a few leaves and hummed a tune. My guide Puneet ji felt that there was a remarkable transformation in my voice. But of course he was indulging me!

Indian classical music has deep rooted oneness with nature itself.  For a few seconds, I wished I was there in the court of Tansen to actually witness this magic for real. I started daydreaming of the day when he sang Raag Megh Malhar - peacocks dancing in the rain the raindrops trickling through the exteriors of the magnificent structure and the courtiers mesmerised by the rhythm of the Raag. And amidst the beautiful flowers in the garden, I was, swirling around, looking up at the sky, letting the raindrops fall on my face. Alas, it was all but a distant dream.

About the artist 

Neethi Goldhawk is an independent illustrator and textile print designer who loves drawing all things dreamy, inspired by nature and life. She has illustrated for platforms like Redbull Amaphiko and Launchora. Her pen name (Goldhawk) was concocted in the crowded space of her mind full of absurd characters, who are but little children at heart. She is an avid Tumblr blogger and can be found here

By Neethi Goldhawk
4

Ashford Castle, County Galway, Ireland. Medieval castle, expanded over the centuries. Used as a set for ‘French Court’ in The CW’s 'Reign’ (2013-).

Yuri on Ice/Avatar TLA AU

I don’t know if this has been done yet, but I’ve been thinking in a Yuri on Ice/Avatar The Last Airbender AU and so far these are my ideas:

-Yuuri Katsuki: Just like in the anime, he’s very shy and unsure of himself. He’s an airbender, the first bender born in his family in over a century. He doesn’t feel comfortable being an airbender because everyone tells him that he should become a monk and only live a spiritual life. Because in his hometown there aren’t any airbenders, he doesn’t learn to bend properly; instead he just trains basic defense moves with Minako (nonbender, chi blocker). Later he meets Celestino (a nonbender rebel nomad monk) and Phichit (another air-bender) and even when he tried to train with them, he felt like he was just trying to please everyone  instead of just bending for the pleasure of it or for the connection with his element. He meets Viktor by accident and is very impressed by the perfection of Viktor’s bending. When Viktor tells him that he’s going to train him, at first Yuuri doesn’t believe him and thinks that Viktor is just making fun of him because how could a prodigy waterbender teach him to airbend? But what he learns is to be confident and to love his element as well as the people around him. That alone gives him the control of the air and even a little glimpse of the Spirit World. He meets Yuri when the younger bender goes to his house in search of Viktor. He likes Yuri, but he’s afraid of him… until he gets to know his softer side.

-Viktor Nikiforov: A waterbender prodigy, but not a fighter. He has the potential but he prefers to perform ice skating mixed with some form of mist-bending and ice sculpting to create dream-like scenarios. When he meets Yuuri he’s so excited because he never met an airbender before and wants to know everything about his bending type… until he discovers that Yuuri has very little knowledge of his own bending… And Viktor takes as his personal quest to train Yuuri. How? He doesn’t know. Maybe he can use some of the lessons his old master Yakov taught him. He’s very patient with Yuuri, trying to show him that his bending is a gift rather than a mistake. He wants to give Yuuri an engagement necklace, but he knows airbenders aren’t supposed to be attached to mundane items. So instead he gives him a coral mala (or prayer beads necklace).

-Makkachin: Viktor’s cute sea-otter-dog… or a goat dog… or something like that.

-Yuri Plisetsky: Another waterbender prodigy, but unlike Viktor, he’s very enthusiastic about fighting (pro-bending or something like that). He relies almost only in a very aggressive type of icebending, and he uses some moves and kicks from firebending (he learned from Lilia, who’s a firebender master. She also taught him the basic moves to deflect a lightening, but of course he’s never tried). He has problems trying to control water in liquid form because that needs him to be in total control of his emotions… and of course he is not. Viktor promised him to teach him waterbending but then Yuuri happened. At first he was jealous but while training with him and Viktor he learns to deal better with his emotions and feelings. He hasn’t told anybody but one time he accidentally bloodbent. His grandfather was having a heart attack and he tried to use waterbending to heal him, instead he stopped his heart for several seconds before making it beat again. His grandfather healed after that and hasn’t had another attack since then, but Yuri was so scared he has never tried to bloodbend again.

Otabek Altin: Born in a little town that used to be a colony under siege by the Fire Nation. He discovered he was an earthbender just after his 17th birthday, that’s why he’s still learning. He trains hard and even when he’s not really naturally talented, it’s his hard work that makes him an excellent bender in just a couple of years. He’s physically stronger than average and that helps him controlling large amounts of rocks, also he’s an adept in listening and waiting before making a move. Even with his strength and ability, he doesn’t like to fight, he prefers using his newfound bending working with blacksmiths and fixing satomobiles (?). He’s trying to learn metalbending but as this day he hasn’t been able to do it. Has a pet Komodo rhino that rides often. Yuri is an inspiration for him, because even when he has been a talented bender since he was a child, he still trains hard every day to improve his skills and does not rely only in his innate ability. Otabek carved a jade stone and gave it to him in a “friendship” necklace. He has the vague idea that Water Tribe people make and give necklaces as tokens of friendship or as good luck charms. Yuri won’t tell him its real meaning even when he likes the idea of being engaged to Otabek. Viktor is the one to tell the truth to Otabek… And he doesn’t mind. He makes another necklace for Yuri, this time a real engagement necklace. Yuri uses both.

Phichit Chulanont: He’s a carefree airbender who travels the world with Celestino as his trainer and teacher. His goal is to form a group of players and performers and that’s why he admires Viktor’s theatrical and dramatic dances on ice. Has several southern Water Tribe white hamsters as pets.  After training for some time with Yuuri and Celestino, they part ways and while visiting the Earth Kingdom he gets lost near the Si Wong Desert. Then he meets this handsome and mysterious sandbender who helps him to get to the nearest town. He doesn’t leave his side after that even when at first the sandbender doesn’t look very comfortable around him. He tries to convince the sandbender to join his group (What group?) and the sandbender hasn’t accepted yet. But hasn’t refused either.

Seung-Gil Lee: A sandbender of the Si Wong desert. Serious and quiet; he loves the desert because it’s a lonely place. One day, while hunting buzzard wasps he finds a lost airbender and walks him to the town. It’s weird because this boy is the complete opposite of him, not only in his element but in his personality. However, he doesn’t find the boy’s constant talk annoying and actually considers the idea of joining his future group of players.

Guang Hong Ji: He’s a nonbender, the only son of a famous weapon seller and swordsman in the Earth Kingdom. He had to learn to use swords and daggers, and actually he’s very skilled with a jian. He only trains because is a family tradition, but his dream is to become a player and perform in Ember Island theatre. Otabek has worked with his father and Guang Hong admires him because seems like he really enjoys what he does.

Leo de la Iglesia: He’s the eldest son of a Fire sage, and a firebender who doesn’t like fire. That’s because when he was practicing some time ago he accidentally burned his little sister in the leg. She isn’t afraid of him or the fire, but he still blames himself and tries to avoid bending at all. He’s expected to become a Fire sage, but all he wants is to be a musician. He meets Guang Ho when he went to his father’s armory to get a ritual dagger. Since then they spend a lot of time talking about joining the Ember Island players.

Those are the main ones. The other headcanons I have are:

Mila Babicheva: Firebender who trained with Yuri under Lilia’s guidance.  

Michele Crispino and Sara Crispino: From the Earth Kingdom. He’s an earthbender, she’s a nonbender.

Emil Nekola: Artistic (?) metalbender

Georgi Popovich: Nonbender. He’s the only one who actually works at the Ember Island theatre. Very dramatic actor. Has lots of fans.

JJ LeRoy: Waterbender. Comes from a family of well known Pro-Bending fighers. That’s why he’s so arrogant and he’s always challenging Yuri to fight with him.

Christophe Giacometti: Firebender HOT DAMN. Too hot to handle. He turns every single pool and bath into a sauna. Poledance with fireworks and sparks. Yeah.

Kenjiro Minami. Firebender chicken nugget. He’s from the same town as Yuuri and also finds him interesting just because he’s an airbender.


I was kinda hard for some character, since is easy to imagine them all as water/ice benders… duh…

Another Look Around (Gaston x Reader)

Originally posted by reyskyvalker

Word Count: 2,097

Warnings: None

    Early mornings in your small village of Villeneuve were something of a dream. The soft lavender skies were yawning off the dawn and blossoming into day, a thin, swirling mist drifted above the rooftops and over the distant hills, setting the entire scenery in a hazy, enchanted state. The smell of fresh bread being baked and the aroma of the floral shops wound through the cool air like an intoxicating perfume.

    The premature breeze on your face and the fresh, dewy air was enough to make you beam despite the morning hours. You closed the front door carefully behind you, not wanting to wake your sleeping family and slipped down the steps and through the small gardens that flourished in front of the house.

    The clicking of your boots on the cobblestone was a solitary noise. One of the few other sounds present were the quiet songs of the rising birds, and the creaking of the wooden blacksmith’s sign that hung suspended over his door. It was so simple and quiet and serene that it was easy to imagine that the town was merely frozen in time rather than emerging from the night hours.

    Any time now, you thought to yourself as you took up your usual vantage near the square. Sure enough, it wasn’t more than a minute before the first cheery “bonjour!” rang through the air.

    You squealed a bit as a pair of arms were thrown around your shoulders from behind, and a familiar voice near your ear said, “Guess who?” You laughed and responded jokingly, “Hmm. Prince Charming.” The person gave a light, musical giggle and untangled herself from you to say, “Sorry, no such luck. Guess you’ll have to make due with me for now.” You rolled your eyes and turned to face her. “Oh, how dreadful.”

    Belle smiled widely and embraced you properly. When she pulled back you glimpsed an unfamiliar binding peaking out of the folds of her dress. “New book?” You asked eagerly, linking your arm through hers. Belle’s eyes lit up and she nodded, pulling the novel out of her pocket and holding it out to you as you began to wade through the steadily filling streets. “I found it in the cellar last night,” she explained as you gazed at the worn brown cover lovingly. “The Count of Monte Cristo,” you read.

    The pair of you paused to purchase a few items from Monsieur Jean, then resumed your walk. “I haven’t read it yet,” Belle said, dodging a group of laughing children as they danced past. “But from what I saw when I glanced through it, it seems exciting. Adventure and revenge and romance…”

    “Sounds like the perfect package.”

    “That’s what I thought. But I’m not finished with Romeo and Juliet yet, so you can read it first.”

    You squeezed her arm and grinned broadly. “Thanks.”

    Passing through the crowded rows of vendors every morning was uncomfortable when your family had first moved to Villeneuve. You and Belle had taken instantly to one another, despite the fact that she was considered by the townspeople to be a “funny girl”. It wasn’t long before you became guilty by association and earned yourself the same title. You were the only bookworms in town, the only people who ever thought of leaving for a different life, the only people who were able to disappear into their imaginations to escape the mundane. However at this point, you were both used to it. You learned to ignore the staring eyes and disapproving glances.

    After making a few more stops and greeting several of the shopkeepers good morning, you and Belle had managed to make a full circle around the square. You were just about to join Belle for a late breakfast when you were stopped by a loud, deep voice calling your name from across the street.

    You flinched, closing your eyes and groaning, “Oh no.” Belle snickered, her eyes fixed on the man who’d called to you. “Well,” she said hastily. “I’ll be at the house. Good luck, (Y/N)!”

    Belle gave you a smart smile, then dashed from your side and made her way quickly down the street towards her home.

    “Thanks a lot,” you muttered, shaking your head at your best friend as she disappeared from view. Steeling yourself, you slowly turned to face the man swaggering towards you, his red coat nearly blinding you in the bright sunlight.

    “Bonjour, Gaston,” you greeted politely.

    Gaston flashed a dashing white smile, the edges of his eyes crinkling slightly as he took your hand and placed a kiss to the skin. “Good morning, Mademoiselle,” he returned, his voice simultaneously rough and silky.

    “Mademoiselle? Really, Gaston, have we not know each other long enough for you to remember my name?” You teased lightly, beginning to walk slowly towards Belle’s. “On the contrary, (Y/N), yours is a name I could never forget,” Gaston assured you, following instantly. You resisted the temptation to roll your eyes.

    Gaston was easily the most popular figure in the village, as well as the handsomest. The only problem was that he knew it, and rarely did he try to conceal that fact. When he walked by, women would melt like snow on a summer day, and men would stare after him in envy. A former war captain, Gaston was most certainly an impressive sight. His chest was broad and strong, his skin tanned, his arms and legs thick with lean muscle, and his hair was dark and shiny. His face could’ve been carved from enchanted stone, his jaw and cheekbones sharp enough to cut, dusted with dark stubble. His lips were nearly always smirking, and his eyes were a smoldering brown. Ever the romantic, the man could make a horse swoon without lifting a finger. There was no denying that he was truly something.

    “You’re flattering me, Gaston,” you replied, brushing your fingers along the iron fence that ran the length of the street. “It’s too early for that.”

    “Well, in that case perhaps I should drop by later this evening.”

    You winced inwardly, realizing that you’d practically walked right into that one. You halted abruptly, causing Gaston - who had been trailing particularly close - to bump into you. You turned to him with a slightly annoyed expression, to which he merely smiled apologetically. You pursed your lips, trying to find a kind way to refuse his offer. In the end all that came out was “Um…not this evening.”

    The shaky and terribly unconvincing way in which you’d spoken made even you cringe. Unlike Belle, you didn’t despise Gaston, and sometimes even enjoyed his company. However his constant attempts at wooing were a bit off-putting at times, and soon they began to blend together into one big blur of flowers and romantic gestures. It was because of this that you declined his invitation, yet the last thing that you wished to be was rude or insensitive…or in this case, awkward.

     There was a falter in Gaston’s smile as he asked, “You have other engagements?” You bit your lip debating whether lie and tell him that you had plans, or to tell the truth and admit that you simply weren’t in the mood for company. You wound up hesitating too long, causing an ungraceful “Yes” to tumble through your lips.

    You wheeled around quickly so that Gaston couldn’t see you scrunch your face in frustration. You were usually able to handle these situations with relative ease, but for some reason, today was different.

  Gaston continued to follow you as you set off once again towards Belle’s, clearly seeing straight through your terrible lies. This time when he spoke, his voice was suave, but earnest.

  “Oh, (Y/N), how long must you keep this up?” he said, practically walking on top of you, his chest to your shoulder, somehow managing not to trip either of you. “It’s been three months and talking to you is practically like trying to hold a conversation with a brick wall.”

  You gave a short, breathy laugh and countered, “It’s been four years, Gaston. Ever since we met I couldn’t go five steps without either you or LeFou hanging over my shoulder. Surely even you can see how that might get a bit old after a while?”

  Gaston didn’t reply immediately. In fact, he stopped where he was, and you had made it to the gate of Belle’s house by the time he pursued you again. You slipped through the iron fence and closed it just as Gaston arrived, planting his hands on either side of where yours rested on the gate. “Very well then, perhaps my attempts have been a bit excessive over the years –”

  “A bit.”

  “- but answer me one thing, (Y/N) …if not me then who?”

  You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Gaston’s expression was imploring and sympathetic. Whether or not it was sincere, you couldn’t tell. You swallowed, unable to respond.  

  “What about after your father and mother die?” Gaston went on, slowly sliding his hands to cover yours. “And it’s just you and the responsibilities that you won’t be able to fulfill without a husband at your side. You know what happens to spinsters in this town once they’re left on their own…” He leaned forward over the fence. “…they wind up on the streets, begging for food and spare coins from complete strangers until the day that they die sad, lonely deaths…”

  Your heartbeat was accelerating. If you had the will, you would’ve informed Gaston that coming upon a single stranger in Villeneuve was immensely rare, and that you obviously wouldn’t be alone, thanks to your friendship with Belle. But the words simply wouldn’t leave your throat.

  By this point, you and Gaston were practically touching noses. Your cheeks were now the color of his crimson coat, and your gaze was trapped in his intense brown eyes like flies trapped in honey.

  “I wouldn’t be able to live knowing such a fate had befallen you,” he whispered.

  You swallowed thickly. “Are you implying that I’ll never find another man besides you?” you practically squeaked. Gaston smiled sympathetically. “Of course not. Only that time won’t wait for you.”

  “So you think I simply haven’t met the right man?”

  “Well -”

  “Because it’s a small village, Gaston. I’ve met them all. So, I suppose that means that my future husband won’t be a resident of these parts.”

  With that, you gathered enough willpower to pull your wrists from his grasp and back away towards the front door. Gaston gave what sounded like an indignant sigh. “Well, maybe you just need to take another look around!” he said, easily swinging himself over the fence and following you to the steps.

    You turned back around once you reached the top, seeing Gaston perched beneath you, one leg mounted on the second step, staring up at you. You raised your eyebrows.

  “Another look around?”

  “Exactly!”

  “Preferably in your general direction, I suppose.”

  A dazzling smirk slid across his lips.

  You laughed out loud, turning your back and grasping the knob of the door. Before you could open it however, Gaston tread up the steps two at a time, throwing one hand against the door to prevent you from escaping him, leaving you trapped between the pane and his body.

  “Gaston!” you practically whined. He looked pleased with himself, but stealthily masked it. “Please, (Y/N),” he said quickly, giving you a desperate smile. “Just one more chance. That’s all I’m asking of you. And if in the end your feelings are unchanged, then I will relent to your wishes and leave you be.”

  You were surprised to see his eyes suddenly soften, and for the moment, his entire demeanor changed. The cockiness faded to nonexistence, and sincerity bloomed in its place, so raw and real that you felt butterflies going haywire in your stomach. Your chest was brushing his, the difference in your heights was laughable, yet somehow he seemed so, so, close…

  In one swift move, you managed to remove his arm from the door, yank it open, and slide inside. But before closing it, you hastily informed, “It wouldn’t be completely pointless for you to look for me at the tavern tonight.”

  Then before the heat in your face became too evident, you closed the door and practically collapsed against it, your heart pounding and an extremely stupid grin on your lips. It certainly didn’t help when you heard Gaston’s deep, husky laughter ringing just on the other side of the wood.

  Belle peered quizzically at you from the kitchen for a few seconds, then she frowned as she asked, “What on earth happened to you?”

Right Here

I cried writing this. Listen to this song while reading. 


Gray clouds littered the sky, making you even more sad. It had been three days since Stefan’s death. Everyone one was still grieving, however they kept their distance from his grave. That was perfect for you because you couldn’t keep yourself together if you saw anyone.

Dead, brown leaves mushed under your shoes, your feet sinking into the earth slightly. You stopped a few feet away from it; Stefan’s grave. Okay, God. You can wake me up now. This is a dream… please let it be a dream. 

You stood in front of the gray headstone, eyes stinging as you tried to hold it all in. “Oh, Stefan.” You whimpered, sinking to your knees. Flowers were laid on the soil, you picked up a few, looking between the plants and the stone. 

Never in your long life had you felt such pain. Sorrow ripped through you, making you gasp for air you didn’t need. “Stefan.”

Your finger tips grazed his name that was carved into the cold stone. “Stefan! You big fucking idiot!” You cried, voice cracking in agony. “You stupid, beautiful idiot. How could you? Why the hell would you save Damon? Why the hell would you leave me? You said you’d never leave me. You said you’d be there forever.” You choked on your tears, gagging as you rested your hands in the dirt. “What happened to forever? What happened to us us seeing the world together? Who am I gonna get drunk with in Greece? Who’s gonna lie with me and listen to Aerosmith? I c-can’t do this. S-Stefan, I need you. I need you to come back, please.”

You hiccuped, makeup running, eyes puffy and red. “I never wanted to be human, you know that. B-But Stefan, I’d be human for you, I’d be human with you. I wanna grow old with you and have cute, little, messy kids with you. I wanna fight you, I wanna love you. I want everything with you. You can’t be gone, please.”

You fiddled with your shaky hands. “I-I wasn’t prepared for this, so I didn’t get a gift for you. But… but I have something better. And I know I should’ve told you this sooner, I’m sorry.” You rambled. 

“I love you, Stefan Salvatore. I love you so damn much.” You leaned forward, kissing the cold stone. “I’m sorry.”

With wobbly legs, you stood up and walked away. You tried to promise yourself that you wouldn’t go back. That you would leave him in the past, but as you looked back at the dull hunk of rock, you realized you would never forget your first love. No one ever does. 

Stefan rested against the tree next to his grave, watching you. He was dizzy with heartache and wanted nothing more than to hold you, wipe away your tears. As you blindly walked past him, stopping to look back at his grave, Stefan gripped your hand. Even though you couldn’t feel it, he rubbed his thumb in small circles. “I’m right here, I’ll be here with you. I love you too.”

Disposable pt 16

Being friends with benefits with Min Yoongi can be complicated (at best) by itself. But when you accidentally tell your family (and his boss) that the two of you are dating, things get messy. It only complicates things more when you blackmail Yoongi into pretending to date you, and neither of you can quite keep your feelings separate, no matter how much you try.

Angst, fluff, slight smut at times.

Yoongi x Reader

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

The house was fairly quiet when you woke up, and upon venturing into the living room, you found Namjoon, Jungkook, and Hoseok talking quietly. You were almost relieved that Yoongi wasn’t sitting with them, you weren’t sure if you were ready to face him just yet. You were embarrassed by the things you had said, and didn’t much care for the idea of admitting to him that you were wrong—even if he was wrong too. The conversation halted abruptly when you walked into the room, and you looked down at your feet.

“Sorry about last night.” You muttered, and you saw Namjoon shake his head.

“Don’t be. Fights happen. But we need to talk.”

You didn’t like the sound of that, but you sat down in a chair across from Namjoon anyway. “Have you seen Yoongi this morning?” You asked, hoping to stall. Maybe you could use the excuse of apologizing to him as a reason to leave the room. You thought you might even bring him coffee as a sort of peace offering if he was still in bed.

“Yeah, I have. A few hours ago.” You looked up at your oldest brother, seeing the seriousness of his face.

“A few hours ago? Where is he now?” You weren’t sure why you were suddenly so nervous, but you glanced between Namjoon and Jungkook, looking for some clue.

“He’s gone.” Jungkook said quietly.

“Gone?” You asked, a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. “Gone outside?”

“No…” Jungkook started, but you didn’t want to hear the rest. You had a horrible suspicion of what he meant.

“Gone to the store?”

“Gone, gone.” Namjoon sighed. “His flight was at eight.”

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5

Arch of the Sergii

Pula, Croatia

29-27 BCE

The arch commemorates three brothers of the Sergii family, specifically Lucius Sergius Lepidus, a tribune serving in the twenty-ninth legion that participated in the Battle of Actium and disbanded in 27 BCE . This suggests an approximate date of construction: 29-27 BCE. The arch stood behind the original naval gate of the early Roman colony. The Sergii were a powerful family of officials in the colony and retained their power for centuries.

The honorary triumphal arch, originally a city gate, was erected as a symbol of the victory at Actium. It was paid for by the wife of Lepidus, Salvia Postuma Sergia, sister of the three brothers. Both of their names are carved in the stone along with Lucius Sergius and Gaius Sergius, the honoree’s father and uncle respectively. In its original form, statues of the two elders flanked Lepidus on both sides on the top of the arch. On either side of the inscription, a frieze depicts cupids, garlands and bucrania.

This small arch with pairs of crenelated Corinthian columns and winged victories in the spandrels, was built on the facade of a gate (Porta Aurea) in the walls, so the part, visible from the town-side, was decorated. The decoration is late hellenistic, with major Asia Minor influences. The low relief on the frieze represents a scene with a war chariot drawn by horses.