#So... I was thinking about how young Coriane was

[bomberqueen17]

followup: countertops

OK pictures under the cut but before you judge me, understand that i went into this remodel saying "i don't want everything white and gray!!!!" and then one at a time we considered our options and realized the best options were... whites... and grays...

but! the white countertop has SPARKLES in it, and as I tell the saga I will tell you the inside scoop the countertop installer gave me, as to WHAT THE SPARKLES ARE MADE OF.

i would put in a little video of the sparkle but i can't figure out how to upload videos anywhere so just imagine it. you can kind of see it in some of the still images.

[image description: a young man in a gray hoodie and orange gloves rests my not-yet-installed stainless-steel sink on the top of the cabinets in front of my windows, which don't yet have countertops.] These guys rolled up at 8:15 and politely introduced themselves, Devin and Isaac. My buddy Max had already rolled in, but Jim had planned on arriving at 8:30 and was running late.

Devin said to me, excitedly, "Did they tell you? We did it seamless!" There had been discussion of whether the corner section would have to be fabricated in two sections or whether they'd be able to do it in one.

They asked Max about some technical details, but Max demurred, "Jim knows about it, I'm just here to help," and they said "ah we'll wait for Jim" but then they were like "well we can just get started" and as it happens they'd just about finished before Jim finally rolled up, LOL.

They installed the sink first, as it's an undermount and so way easier to do before the counter goes in.

But the counters-- they just-- set them down, checked the level, checked the measurements everywhere, and then just put silicone around the edges underneath and on top. That's literally it. I asked if it was ever more complicated and Devin was like ah yeah if we have to level it there's a whole thing, but. I mean. Jim did this so I knew it'd be this easy, that's why you're first for us today.

[image description: an expanse of speckled white countertop, with reflections from the lights. You can kind of see a speck here and there of the sparkles. the color is somethingorother-snow, because it does glitter like snow.]

I admired the glitter, and Devin said, "Guess what the sparkle's made of!"

"Glass," I hazarded.

"Close," he said, "but no." When nobody else had another guess, he said, "CDs! It's made of CDs." This is a quartz-like-composite kinda thing, which means it kinda looks like stone and is shiny like stone (instead of matte like Corian etc) but won't shatter your plates quite like stone and is easier to maintain.

I texted this to the family groupchat, and VegMan said (my sister must have read it aloud to him, he's not on the family groupchat) "Oh, AOL CDs?" and I texted it to Dude separately and he wrote back "That's like 750000 free minutes of AOL!" and when I repeated these jokes to Devin, Isaac, and Max, they all kind of looked politely blank. "Oh no," I said, "you're too young."

"I was born in 2001," Devin volunteered, and Max laughed and said "same". (I do not think Isaac is any older.) "They used to give me video game CDs in my Happy Meals though so I know what you mean."

I've lived in this house since both of you were four years old, I thought, but did not say. "In 2001 I was..." "Adulting," Devin said helpfully. "You... could call it that," I said, thinking back to my senior year of college.

They brought in the little chunk of counter that's going over next to the fridge, and then the bigger chunk that's the sink counter. Then they brought in the big one they'd managed to do seamless, the L-shaped chunk that goes from the stove around the corner to the expanse in front of the bay window that will be our dining area. Devin and Isaac planned out where they'd go and how they'd get it in the door, because they knew it was heavy. Then they got in the door and Devin said "Max! Max I know I don't know you but I need you to help me!" and Max hustled over and grabbed the heavy end, because it really was too heavy for Devin, and Isaac had the other end so he couldn't help.

It was a strain for both of them, but they carefully got it up onto the cabinets, and slid it painstakingly into place, and Devin took a moment to recover.

[image description: a person in a gray hoodie is sitting on the cardboard-covered floor of a white room with gray cabinets, applying silicone from a tube to the underside of the white countertop]

They checked the levels and measurements and made sure there were no gaps and then they just... glued it. Like not even really glued it they just applied a bead of silicone around all the edges, and that's that.

"Is it really that easy?" I asked, and Devin laughed and said "if it's not perfectly level we have to shim it, and there's a whole lot of complicated stuff we gotta do then, but the reason I put this job first is I know Jim put these cabinets in so I know they're level. And if they're level then yeah this is all that's gotta happen."

They look so good. They sparkle like snow. The room is a sea of neutrals.

[image description: from my living room looking into my kitchen, with the stove pulled out awkwardly into the middle of the floor, one man is standing to work on the counter near the sink and another man is sitting on the floor checking the underside of the counter in front of the window.]

Jim showed up as they were finishing, checked on a few things, signed off on the job, and then he and Max set to tiling the backsplash. Which I will cover in a separate post because this is enough for right now. But.

The counters!!! I wish I could figure out how to make a gif out of a little video on my phone because the SPARKLE. Yeah the white countertops and white walls and white ceilings are a bit much but understand two of the walls and all of the window trim are getting painted some bright color or other, so it won't be like this forever.

#about the author #kitchen remodel #kitchen renovation

[lilyharvord]

that maven corianne interaction u posted was truly insane and i have not stopped thinking about it and how much i love there dynamic

I have brainrot about young Coriane and her strangely Loner™️ uncle who is staying with her family, and her parents struggle to be in the same room as the guy, and she is not allowed to talk to him or be near him, but she is and always will be Mare Barrow's kid and that makes her a Problem™️. So she decides to invite him to play games with her when they are not home. First, she asks him to play hide and seek. He looks over the faded edge of the book he is scowling at and says, "fine, go hide." She giggles and runs away as he "counts". She uses her best hiding place, the one her dad can't find her in, and she waits and waits and waits (she hides for a good two hours) and then she comes out to see him still sitting in the exact same place and says, "You're bad at this game." And he just turns the page and says, "I found you didn't I?" He looks up from the book with a bored raised eyebrow and says, "So clearly you are bad at it." And she is fucking GOBSMACKED, her little mouth falls open in horror and she stares at him for a solid few seconds. He expects her to argue, to stomp her foot and be mad, but instead she just crosses her arms and glares at him in a very "Mare Barrow" fashion and it kinda unsettles him. He pulled an Uno Reverse (not that that exists in this universe but whatever) on her and she is like: I will not be fooled into losing my favorite game again. So she keeps finding all these games to rope him into: cards, a board game she realizes her parents have just been letting her win at after he wins four times in a row, a different card game that she makes up (she cheats and keeps changing the rules to try and beat him but he finds a way to out-craft her every time), and then finally one day she brings him an old faded wooden box and sets it on the kitchen table where he is reading in the sunlight and then climbs on the chair across from him and sitting on her knees takes the top off and flips it around to show him a chess board and the pieces in the box. He tenses and she very awkwardly starts setting the pieces up incorrectly (she's only seen Cal set it up once or twice when Julian comes over) but with absolute confidence that she is correct. She crosses her arms, stares him down, and says, "we are going to play." and he just stares at the board between them before closing his book with a snap and rising. "No." he says and walks away. He's never said no before and she is furious. She chases after him, begging him to come play with her, grabbing his hand and pleading until she is almost crying. Eventually she lets go of his hand in the hallway and just sits down and starts crying. He is frozen and that is when Cal pokes his head out and is like: what happened? And she runs to him crying and Cal just takes her in his office and closes the door. And then like 30 minutes later, Cal finds Maven and is holding a sniffling and puffy eyed Coriane who clings to his neck and hides her face there when Cal stands there in silence for a few seconds. Maven watches him struggle for a bit before raising a brow and saying, "yes?" Cal inhales deeply and then says, "get the board set up, we're going to teach her how to play." And then just goes into the kitchen where the board is still waiting. Maven hesitates, then slowly follows and eyeing them like a cornered animal as Cal gives Coriane a glass of water and calms her down a little more. He brings her over at the time as Maven readjusts the pieces and sits down with her in his lap and begins explaining the pieces, what they can do, etc. And Maven watches her purse her little lips, and laughs internally because she is literally 5 years old why the heck would she be able to play chess? And then they start playing and she is getting it (kinda sorta, she's getting it for a 5 year old), guarantee she has Cal helping her and it is mostly him playing, but she is asking all the questions and understanding his answers and she has more than glimmer (more like a shine) of a strategic brain. And then when they win she is so excited and Maven smiles at them, and then Cal smiles at him.

#(*ask lily*) #(*shut up lily*) #red queen #glass sword #kings cage #war storm #broken throne #post broken throne #maven calore #cal calore #coriane barrow calore #my writing #my headcanons #listen she makes him bond with her parents XD #he is absolutely the reluctant participant in her games until he secretly starts enjoying them #he's amused at her intense need to beat him #the chess scene I just described is rent free in my head now #dear lord #I can just see them smiling at each other and then both being surprised by it #and Maven stopping first #but Cal's just softens a bit while Coriane runs to go announce to Mare who just got home that she beat Maven at chess #don't ask me how he's alive #I have no answer #all I know is that he gets shoved with Mare and Cal cause who else is going to be able to control his ass but them?

[maventheforgotten]

I hate so many characters in the Red Queen series. I understand it's a book (and these are fictional characters) and absolutely no hate to the author it's an amazing series, but on like a personal real-life I hate them. To anyone who doesn't want to hear how I hate a specific character, you can skip their part. Also understand these are my OPINIONS and understanding of the characters if you disagree you are free to tell me but understand I have the right to disagree with you as well.

Anabel Lerolan grandmother to both Cal and Maven and my absolute least favorite character. She makes me so mad mainly because she makes no attempts to save Maven from his mother. Anabel knew and saw what Elara did to Coriane and hated her for it but yet when Elara shows signs of doing the same thing to Maven she looked at Maven as Elaras son, not her grandchild who was being forced at such a young age to go through the same pains that caused the death of an adult women then has the aducaity to blame Maven for everything that happened.

Julian Jacos is next on this list for much the same reason. He saw what was happening but viewed Maven as the son of Elara instead of a boy who needed someone to step in much as his sister did. I understand why it would have been hard especially after Elara cut out Sara's tongue but even spending time with Maven making sure he understood he wasn't alone was all he needed to do. (This part goes with Anabel as well.)

Evangeline Samos just annoys me because I think she's a self-centered, selfish brat who can only get over herself when family or her girlfriends are involved. She did have some character development at the end but for me it was to late for her to be saved.

Mare Barrow is riding in the same boat as Evangeline but on a whole other level. I despise her to put it simply. In the beginning, she is obnoxious, self-centered, and blankly disregards the feelings of others for whatever she believes to be right. She also has attention seeking behavior and throws a fit when it doesn't go how she wants it. The main example I see of this is when Cal chose the crown. There has been a major debate on this sceen and what he was thinking but for my stand point I don't seem him chosing the crown just to be King but I see him chosing the crown to be HER king. When Cal tries to explain his reasoning to Mare, she refuses to accept and leaves. She had the right to be upset with his decision but not to claim she was not enough for him.

Tiberias "Cal" Calore VII I don't have much to say about. I don't hate him. I just felt he had a right to be added to the list. I think he's okay, and he's trying his best to be a good person despite what he grew up around. I don't like that he ignored the signs he saw from Maven and Elara's relationship, but he was just the prince and a kid for most of it, and at least he never gave up on Maven.

Tiberias Calore VI we didn't see much of but I have no love for him. He was depicted as a drunk and neglective father who was to caught up in the loss of Coriane to really pay attention to either of his sons and obviously favored Cal the son of his late wife. I do think he loved Maven he just didn't know how to be a father to someone that wasn't Coriane's son.

Elara Merandus is a bitch and I hate her. She was mentally abusive and hurtful to Maven from a young age. She manipulated his views of his family members and made him dependent on her and deserved her death. I don't have anything else to say on her.

None of this makes anything Maven did right or any less his fault. I'm just saying at all of these character except Cal and sometimes Mare want to throw all the blame on Maven. It's not just his fault- someone should have done something to help him before it got out of hand. This was all a rant I had to my friend and just felt like letting the internet know about. Remember these are OPINIONS- so it's cool to disagree but be respectful and know I didn't see the book the same way you did.

#maven calore #anabel lerolan #tiberias calore #tiberias vii calore #evangeline samos #elara merandus #mare barrow #red queen #I hate these people #Sorry not sorry if you like them

[king-maven-calore]

AUGUST 1, 296 NE–PRESENT Before he ascended the throne, Tiberias VI refused the rite of Queenstrial and shocked the court when he married Coriane Jacos, a lady of a relatively low and poor Silver house.

#red queen series #red queen #victoria aveyard #my edits #Coriane Jacos #So... I was thinking about how young Coriane was #and how trapped she felt by her circumstances #how she was just a girl trying to survive and made the mistake of falling in love #and that sole act condemned her #and she was mentally ill but still she TRIED #and there's parallels there with Maven's character #but these tags got out of hand #BT #Queen Song #she's so tragic wtf kill me

[themadauthorshatter]

I've been thinking about this a lot, and I just need to get it out:

As we all know Tiberias Calore VI is a pretty crappy parent, one blinded by grief and lost in the past. He favored one child over the other, which is just cruel to do, and is an alcoholic, so there's probably a lot ofpossible emotional detachment, as he'd rather turn to a bottle than another person.

And I am more than certain that he did not like being King, and would rather give the throne to someone else.

What kept him from doing so?

I would imagine it would be the last piece of Coriane he had: Cal.

I imagine Cal was anchor through the years, even if Cal didn't fully know it; as he was aware, but didn't know how much he mattered to his father.

Imagine one day, before the series, Tibe is remembering Coriane and is drinking slightly more than usual.

Maven tells Cal, who is annoyed at facing their father while he's possibly intoxicated, but goes anyway because he knows it has to be important.

He finds his father glaring at a report as he holds his head up with one hand and holds a bottle of wine or whiskey in the other.

"Father?"

Tibe looks up and gestures for Cal to come in and sit down, which he does.

Neither speak, save for Tibe taking swigs of alcohol, until Cal asks how things are looking.

They are not good.

"With the front lines needing emergency provisions, rumors of the Scarlet Guard rising up, and Lord Rhambos offering his daughter Rohr for Queenstrial, I would rather go back to the front and take care if it all myself than write to solve these problems."

Cal bites the inside of his cheek at that remark, but then furrows his brow.

"Isn't Rohr going to be 14 soon?"

"She is. Why?"

Cal shakes his head. "No reason. It just seems a little too young for someone to compete in Queenstrial."

Tibe fights a head shake and leans back in his chair. "Believe me, there have been younger." He chuckles before continuing, "I think the youngest Queenstrial competitor was a nine year old Animos. My grandfather couldn't even look at her."

Cal chuckles with him. "There should really be an age limit for Queenstrial, so no one under a certain age can compete."

Tibe's smile drops a little as he reaches for the bottle. "Could you imagine how the High Houses would react? Especially Merandus?"

Cal stops smiling instantly. "But Elar-... Mother already won her Queenstrial. She shouldn't have anything to object to."

"Believe me, there is still plenty for her to object to."

Cal remains silent as Tibe continues to read and respond to reports, thinking about what else Elara could possibly protest to.

His thoughts are broken when his father asks:

"Have you spoken to Julian lately?"

"Why do you ask?"

Tibe takes a swig of his drink and shakes his head dismissively. "I was just wondering." He looks away at a painting on the wall, staying quiet for a little while.

Cal is also silent, at least knowing everything's decent, at least.

"I think he hates me, Cori."

Both Cal and Tibe have a moment of 'Wait, WHAT!?'

Cal's eyes widen and Tibe quickly turns to him, trying to come up with some sort of lie; he may be drunk, but he's not drunk enough to miss the fact he called his son by his dead wife's nickname.

"Father?" Cal asks, concerned now more than ever.

Tibe turns his attention back to his reports, telling Cal he's fine and Cal can go back to training.

Cal goes to argue and actually make sure his father is okay, but Tibe dismisses him, saying he's got a lot of work to do.

Cal leaves him alone, only putting on a smile and saying he'll see his father at dinner before he leaves.

Once he's gone, Tibe goes for a swig of alcohol out of practical instinct, even though he knows he possibly screwed up big time.

Come dinner though, he and Cal have basically brushed it off, even though it's just an act they're putting on for each other.

Cal does talk to his uncle about it, but Julian can only comment that his brother-in-law must really be that blinded by his grief to mistake his son for his dead wife.

Upon seeing Cal's expression, he apologizes that he has to see that happen and admits to Cal that despite his faults, his father still loves and sees him as his son, which Cal knows, though he thanks Julian for those words, all the same.

Well, if this wasn't emotionally devastating, I don't know what is😅

Hope you guys enjoyed this!!!

#red queen #tiberias calore vii #tiberias calore vi #julian jacos #maven calore #cal calore #slight angst #drinking tw

[lightstar789]

My Thoughts On Steelstriker!

I bought and finished Steelstriker yesterday, and BOY do I have a lot to say! I'll be breaking this post into sections about the plot, overall rating, and questions I have. Obvious spoiler warning ahead, so, let's jump into it!

THE PLOT:

World-building: Wow. Just. Wow. Marie Lu has definitely stepped up her game in terms of world-building, and I felt totally immersed in the story! We learned about the different nations that the Karensa Federation had conquered, their traditions, and how the Karensan soldiers were in many ways similar to the Strikers. I feel that in terms of world-building, Red's perspective was crucial because of the constant flashbacks to his past, painting a picture of what life really was like living in Karensa. I appreciate that it wasn't just a huge exposition dump, and it was all gradually revealed to us. However, I find it very unrealistic that the territories conquered by The Federation were restored to their former glory in the span of the 5 year timeskip. But overall, an 8/10!

Pacing: Very fast. Almost too fast for the scale of the plot. I know that the Strikers have been fighting against The Federation for many years, but how can you end an established country in the span of two weeks after finding your best friend mutated? That being said, the methods they used were very effective in speeding up the revolution, such as poisoning the Premier and making him look weak in front of everyone, thus ruining morale.

However, I feel like all the answers were handed to the Strikers way too easily. Yes, I get that they're Mara's best fighters, but on what planet would they be able to understand a dead language (English in this case) almost instantaneously to read an old newspaper about a neighborhood catching on fire? It's also stated that the Premier cares very much about excavating old relics from our time, so if he cared so much, then why wasn't there better security on the anti-aging machine? 4/10.

Romance/Friendship/Family: 10/10. Yes. YES. YES. Talin and Red's relationship was so endearing and sweet to read about, and they think about each other a lot! Their loyalty to each other is adorable to read about. Mayor Elland being in love with Constantine's mother was unexpected, but a welcome surprise! Jeran and Aramin were already an established couple during Skyhunter, and I think that this book really cemented their dynamic. I honestly wasn't expecting these guys to be frenemies to lovers, but, that made it all the more enjoyable.

Speaking of that conversation under the bridge, Jeran and Red's friendship dynamic is hilarious and really sweet. I honestly loved that part of the book where they just started teasing each other and just mutually bonded over their bf/gf. Jeran threatening to make Red eat fish will never not be funny! Adena and Talin's was super heartwrenching to read about, especially if you compare their friendship from the first book up till now. T - T

Perhaps the biggest driving point of the plot was Talin's relationship with her mother. Throughout the book, she's forced to follow the Premier's commands against her will if she doesn't want her mother being killed and the mental anguish Talin has to go through makes me cry. I wish I had this much devotion to my parents as well. Red's early life with his sister Laeni almost made me cry, because she was just so young and I feel attached to her. Let's talk about a different type of family: found family, one of my favorite tropes! The Strikers are literally my favorite band of characters, and you can clearly see their dynamic and just how much everyone cares for one another. Even though Corian died in the beginning of the first book, I can still feel his presence within the group and I go misty-eyed when I think about the way he went out.

RATING:

4/5. While there were some pacing issues and some redundancy, Steelstriker was an enjoyable book from start to end. It's one of the rare Marie Lu books to end on a happy note, will all loose ends tied up. However...

QUESTIONS:

1) I know, I know that they may share the same last name by chance, but are Kira and Aramin related in some way, shape, or form? Aramin is the only one whose family doesn't get mentioned anywhere in the book. I get that he's the Firstblade, but you think that Jeran would've asked at one point, right? Maybe Lu might not be done with the Skyhunter series, and Kira may play a major role in later books? I

2) How exactly did Red, Jeran and Talin understand the newspaper written like, five centuries ago? Wouldn't it have been written in English?

These are my overall thoughts about Steelstriker! I'd like to see what you guys think once you finish the novel. Happy reading!

#steelstriker spoilers #marie lu

[evangelineartemiasamos]

Alright, so I'm re-reading Queen Song, and wow it's alot sadder than I remember. Poor Coriane. One thing that still confuses me though is how Elara was able to get by the singing in the first place. What, was Coriane's ability still weak despite her efforts to get stronger or was another Merandus actually responsible for the nightmares specifically? She was also nervous before she questioned Elara, so she probably wasn't as focused as she thought she was.

Yes. I still think Coriane shouldn’t have married Tibe VI; she was too young, too naive/inexperienced and only grew more unhappy with being queen next to him. Of course she loved her child and also the partner who Tibe could be but that life where they could be who they were and yearned to be wasn’t granted them. That is a tragedy on its own. I can’t say only the crown was to blame but it was the biggest reason for Coriane’s sad fate; it warped Tibe VI’s personality, forced her into a role she couldn’t fit in nor wanted to, and called for the attention of actually louche, power-hungry and vile people like Elara. I wished the novella had spent more pages on Coriane’s time as queen though, the years in-between would’ve been quite interesting, if only to see Coriane’s interaction (or non-interaction?) with politics, esp, regarding Reds.

I wondered about your question, too. It’s kind of a plothole and Aveyard admitted that Elara pretended once in an ask but didn’t elaborate further. It’s not clear how some abilities work, tbh. I thought Coriane’s ability only needs eye contact, words and concentration, so IDK why she would fail but it’s possible her concentration broke and because she was nervous and not very good, she couldn’t notice if her singing worked successfully or not (though she trained, so I’d think that she knew how to sing and did it?). Does being a better singer mean you’re more persuasive while a mark can fight a beginner like Coriane with their own strong will? I suppose it might’ve been Rane Arven again, too. This was also confirmed by Aveyard: He faked his loyalty to Coriane to let Elara torture her mentally into suicide. It’s possible that in the moment Coriane sang to Elara, he blocked Coriane’s ability.

Mare says she notices silencers blocking her, but maybe Rane Arven was good enough for Coriane to think all was as it should? Obviously Coriane couldn’t know if she was successful apart from checking for Elara’s reaction but I wonder if that’s true for all singers. (Would be very strange if you couldn’t know if you controlled someone’s mind or not; might be the cause of some mental gymnastics to pardon yourself - “maybe the singing didn’t work, maybe he does it on his own free will”)

#ask #red queen #coriane jacos #rane arven #elara merandus #tiberias vi #suicide tw #silver abilities

[dragonwitch77]

Death’s Flower: Ch 4, When?

“UNCLE C! UNCLE C! UNCLE C! UNCLE C!” The little goddess squealed with delight as she ran towards Coriander, jumping into his open arms and hugged him tightly as much as her thin arms could squeeze around his thick neck.

“Good ta see ya little lass!” Coriander laughed, smiling down at the young goddess in his arms. “Look at ya! Have ya grown some the last time Ah visit ya? Yer almost as tall as a wee sproutlin’ little tree!” He tossed her up in the air slightly, making the young girl laugh. “N’ heavy too.” The older god put her back on the ground, poking her stomach. “Is yer mother puttin’ some pounds on ya? Or is Caitlin over stuffin’ ya with her cookin’ again?”

The tiny god laughed, pushing Coriander’s hands away and stuck out her tongue.

“Oh Ho! You little cheek!” Coriander laughed, ruffling the young god’s hair. “Ya may be small n’ cute now, but soon you’ll be big n’ str-r-r-rong!” He flexed his muscles, showing off his broad arms. “Jus’ like the rest of us!”

The little goddess giggled again, poking the arm. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doin’ what?”

“The r-r-r-r noise! You did that while saying strong.”

“Ah. That.” Coriander chuckled, scratching his chin beard. “It’s nothin’ really lass. Jus’ r-r-r-r-rollin’ me r’s. Somethin’ Ah picked up spendin’ time with other gods up in Norse. Nice bunch of sorts they are there.”

“Tell me about them!” The young goddess latched onto Coriander’s arm, which the older god laughed and stood up to full height, lifting the younger god up with ease.

“No no. That’ll be a tale fer another time lass.” Coriander shook his head. “I’ll tell ya later when yer older.”

“That’s real soon! My birthday is coming up and I’m going to be a big girl!” The little goddess chimed, kicking her legs about as she struggled to climb up Coriander’s arm.

“Oh ya are? Well that’s some big news!” Coriander reached over and grabbed the young goddess, pulling her up into his arms before setting her on the ground again. “N’ how old are ya goin’ ta be big girl?”

“Seven! Grandpa says that I’ll have extra luck this year because he said that seven is a lucky number!” The young goddess held up seven of her fingers, smiling brightly.

“N’ it will be!” Coriander smile grew. “Once ya hit lucky seven, good things are sure ta come yer way lass!” He sighed, looking off to the distance. “Ah remember when Ah was young. Ah was so full of energy n’ such a wild boy. Heh heh.”

The little goddess tilted her head. “Umm… how old are you anyway?”

Coriander, taken off guard by the sudden question, sputtered. “Gahuh?!”

“YOUNG ONE!” The young goddess flinched, looking over her shoulder as Zaman came over with a disapproving look on his face.

“We do not ask others their age! It’s very rude and inconsiderate!” Zaman placed his hands on his hips as the young goddess looked down on the green grass below her bare feet.

“Yes grandpa.”

Zaman continued to give her a disappointed stare before sighing and turning to Coriander with an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry about her Corian. She lacks the understanding of being mindful around others.”

“It’s no trouble.” Coriander cleared his throat, adjusting his helmet slightly and smiled. “Me own kids would ask the same thin’ when they were growin’. Been so long since anyone asked me age in a while.” The God of War chuckled. “Oh, n’ a, lass?” The young goddess looked up at him. “Ah can’t give ya the numbers, but Ah’m older than that no good Grunde. N’ certainly younger than yer grandfather that’s fer sure!”

Zaman punched Coriander in the shoulder, making the War God and the young goddess laugh a bit.

“Are you coming to my birthday party Uncle C? You are going to come this time right?”

“Yes, surely this time you could attend. Surely there won’t be any wars or anything important that might drag you away from enjoying my grandchild’s birthday. You’ve hardly ever attend all her other birthdays with your duty, but surely you will have time for this one old friend?”

“Can? WILL!” Coriander puffed out his chest, slamming his fist against his armor. “No war will be able ta drag this god away on the lasses special day! Especially not her special number seventh birthday!” He ruffled the young god’s hair again, making her giggle and squeal.

“That’s good to hear! It’ll be nice for you to attend. Some of the others have agreed to come as well.” Zaman wrapped an arm around the shorter god’s shoulder, leading him with the young goddess following after them. “Hephaestus will be there, and Phlegon, and Caitlin, and Grunde—” The shorter god groaned at the name. “And I convinced Lyvia to invite a special guest to the party.”

“Oh yeah? Who?”

Zaman smirked, leaning closer to Coriander’s ear and whispered. “Dionysus.”

“… Nnnnnoooo!”

“Yes! Though I did promise Lyvia will be on his best behavior at the party. Wink.” Zaman winked his left and upper eyes, making Coriander grin and drool a little.

“O-oh-oh-oh! You snake! Yer goin’ all out on this party ain’t cha? Ya hear that lass?! Yer party is goin’ ta be…” Coriander paused, slowly coming to a halt as he gazed behind himself.

The older gods looked back at the young child. She was standing at a distance where the garden ended at the temple door, looking down where the grass ended in smooth white stone. Her face was in a deep frown, looking between the green grass and the white marble stone floor, gripping the front of her clothes tightly.

Coriander frowned, turning to Zaman and dropping his voice into a low hush so only the Time God could hear. “She’s still not allowed out the garden eh?”

Zaman nodded slightly. “Yes, unfortunately.” He replied in his own hushed voice. “Despite my many talks with my daughter, she refuses to let her own daughter out of the garden. No matter what promises I make to her, she will not budge.”

Coriander sighed heavily. “Yer daughter is as stubborn as a mule Zaman!” The God of War spun around, placing two fingers in his mouth and whistled. “OI! Lass! If ya want ta step inside, nothin’s stoppin’ ya! This is yer home after all!”

The young goddess shook her head. “Mommy said I’m not allowed outside of the garden. She says that the evil shadow monster will get me if I even take one step outside!” The girl’s face twisted in fear, taking a few steps back.

Coriander looked at Zaman in confusion. The older god mouthed ‘What Lyvia calls you-know-who’ and the god understood fully what the child meant.

“Lass, no shadow monster is gonna get ya! It’s alright ta come out of the garden.”

But the child shook her head again. “I don’t want to make mommy angry…”

“But lass y—”

“How about you go chase some of the rabbits, sweetheart?” Zaman butted in, placing a hand on the shorter god’s shoulder. “I bragged to your mother how you caught five last time on your own and she was very impressed. So how about you go catch some more and make your mother even more proud of you?”

The young girl smiled, nodding her head before running off into the garden. Both gods waited a moment before sighing and turning to one another.

“That was foolish of ya.”

“I know.” Zaman shook his head. “I know.”

“Zaman. Ah know it’s not my place ta say this, but yer daughter may be a wee bit overprotective of her lass.” Coriander pinched his thumb and finger together. “It’s been years since that peckin’ spook showed his face up here n’ he hasn’t even done a single thin’ ta harm the little lass! Sure Ah know what he’s like n’ all, but he usually would have done somethin’, oh Ah don’t know, years ago!” He threw his arms up high, sighed heavily. “Ah don’t even think he would concern himself with the lass anyway! He’s more focused on that missin’ piece of fabric than a little goddess.”

Zaman looked at his old friend in surprise. “He still hasn’t found out who took it?”

“Not a hint or clue.” Coriander shrugged. “At least that’s all Ah can get out of him when Ah spot him along the sidelines. The spook didn’t look too happy the last Ah saw of him.” He scratched his beard. “Normally he’d be shoutin’ insults or watchin’ it all while eatin’ eh… ‘popped corn’ Ah think he called it? Whatever that is.”

“Well, he is a very unusual god. Even on different standers.” Zaman shook his head, having long since stopped questioning the Death God’s strange quirks and habits long ago. Though, he was growing ever worried.

If what Coriander said about the God of Death still missing that piece was true, then it did not bode well. For one thing, if Snatcher still hadn’t found the missing piece for this long, then it was clear that a mortal hadn’t taken it. That cape he wore was very powerful. Too powerful for a mere mortal to handle, even in the smallest of pieces or tinniest of threads.

Zaman had seen countless foolish mortals who had dared enter the Underworld and managed to survive escaping the place go mad within days with just even a small string of Snatcher’s cape in their hands. The power that cape had could make any mortal go mad, even at great distances. He never touched that cape, it gave off an eerie energy that made him feel weak and sick to the stomach.

Thankfully Snatcher never stayed around too long for any long term effects to take hold, but now Zaman was concerned that one of the other gods might have indeed been the culprit of theft. And who knew how long it would be before the Death God took matters into his own hands.

“Enough about him for now. He hasn’t done anything that should concern us yet.” Zaman’s three eyes turned to his friend, putting on a hopeful smile. “What we should discus is what you’ve managed to find.”

Coriander frowned, gazing at the floor. Just seeing that already filled Zaman with dread and defeat. “Nothin’.” He replied quietly after a moment of silence. “Ah’m sorry Zaman, but there was nothin’ ta be found. Not even Alvis could help.”

Zaman drew in a deep breath, held it for a moment, and let it out slowly. “… I see.”

“Ah’m sorry Zaman, Ah really tried ta find yer answer but there’s jus’ nothin’ there that can help. Norse n’ Roman gods hardly mingle with each other since the old days.”

“And the Sisters would hardly allow any magic or knowledge mix knowing it could make chaos in the process.” Zaman finished, shaking his head sadly. “By the Sisters, what am I going the do?”

“What can ya do? Zaman, yer very wise in some days n’ nights, but even you know ya can’t know everythin’ fer every little thin’.” Coriander patted his friend’s shoulder. “N’ not everythin’ is meant ta be known or fixed.”

Zaman looked at his friend with a sad smile before it fell away. “I just want to know why my granddaughter is so weak in her powers.”

“Give her time lad. My youngest didn’t get their powers until they hit their teen years.”

“Your children showed progress with age old friend. But she still can’t make a single bud bloom without feeling great strain and exhaustion. I just… don’t understand it. She should be getting stronger but no matter how many times the sun sets and rises again, she shows no sign of gaining her powers…”

The pair were quiet a moment, standing there as the winds blew by.

“… She should be getting stronger.” Zaman looked at his hands. “She should be showing… some sign of godhood in her. But she has… nothing.” His arms dropped to his sides, sighing deeply. “Not even a tiny speck of gold in her blood.”

“Hey now! Chin up!” Coriander moved in front of his old friend, placing both hands on Zaman’s shoulders. “Ya can’t get hung up over this. Everythin’s goin’ ta be fine. Jus’ give the lass some time. Look on the bright side! She’s alive n’ healthy n’ happy n’ she’s got you n’ everythin’ that she needs—”

“B҉U҉T҉ ҉S҉H҉E҉ ҉D҉O҉E҉S҉N҉'҉T҉ ҉H҉A҉V҉E҉ ҉H҉E҉R҉ ҉P҉O҉W҉E҉R҉S҉!҉” Coriander was suddenly pushed back, landing on the ground and staring up at Zaman with wide hidden eyes. “M҉Y҉ ҉G҉R҉A҉N҉D҉C҉H҉I҉L҉D҉ ҉I҉S҉ ҉A҉ ҉G҉O҉D҉!҉ ҉A҉ ҉G҉O҉D҉ ҉L҉I҉K҉E҉ ҉Y҉O҉U҉ ҉A҉N҉D҉ ҉I҉,҉ ҉Y҉E҉T҉ ҉S҉H҉E҉'҉S҉ ҉W҉E҉A҉K҉ ҉A҉N҉D҉ ҉P҉O҉W҉E҉R҉L҉E҉S҉S҉ ҉L҉I҉K҉E҉ ҉A҉ ҉M҉E҉R҉E҉ ҉M҉O҉R҉T҉A҉L҉ ҉B҉E҉I҉N҉G҉!҉”

Sparks of energy surrounded Zaman, casting electricity all around him that he was glowing brighter than the sun. Lightning bolts shot off, scorching and destroying items they landed upon, reducing then to dark ash and soot. The Time God’s eyes glowed with an unnatural blue, cracking with sparks. Coriander averted his away from the God of Time’s eyes, knowing those foolish enough to even gaze upon them would spell disaster.

“S҉H҉E҉ ҉S҉H҉O҉U҉L҉D҉ ҉B҉E҉ ҉P҉O҉W҉E҉R҉F҉U҉L҉!҉ ҉G҉I҉F҉T҉E҉D҉ ҉W҉I҉T҉H҉ ҉A҉ ҉B҉L҉E҉S҉S҉I҉N҉G҉ ҉O҉F҉ ҉O҉U҉R҉ ҉K҉I҉N҉D҉!҉ ҉Y҉E҉T҉ ҉S҉H҉E҉ ҉H҉A҉S҉ ҉N҉O҉ ҉G҉I҉F҉T҉!҉ ҉S҉H҉E҉ ҉H҉A҉S҉ ҉N҉O҉ ҉P҉O҉W҉E҉R҉!҉ ҉S҉H҉E҉!҉ ҉H҉A҉S҉!҉ ҉N҉O҉T҉H҉I҉N҉G҉!҉”

A bolt of lightning shot out, bouncing around so wildly it could almost be mistaken as a lively phoenix. It shot down the halls and out the frost of the building, shooting up into the clouds and disappearing among them.

“Now! W-Wait wait wait wait! H-Hold on a moment!” Coriander slowly sat up, holding his hand to eye level to avoid looking into Zaman’s eyes. “Ya can’t say that Zaman! The lass doesn’t have nothin’! She’s jus’ late bloomin’!” He stood up slowly, trying to stay strong against the power the older god was exserting. “Ya can’t say that she’s got nothin’ when ya ain’t even sure if she doesn’t have anythin’ yet! N’ ya have ta remember, she’s not normal born like you or Ah.”

He could feel his words were reaching the older god as the power he was casting was slowly diminishing. The light was fading away as well, but Coriander still kept his vision covered.

“So what if she doesn’t show any sign of power now? What ‘bout later? Yer not sure if she’ll get it tomorrow or the next day. That doesn’t mean she’s weak! Far from it! Ya keep braggin’ how she keeps climbin’ up tree like a monkey n’ reachin’ the top fast like a bird! N’ how she races the fish in the pond up streams n’ round the lake like nothin’! N’ how she runs with rabbits n’ leopards n’ falcons’ fer hours! No mortal can do that! Most would only be pale compared ta that!”

The light kept dimming, as well as the power as Coriander kept talking till everything was still again. Taking the risk, Coriander removed his hand. Zaman stood there, standing on scorched marble stone with a shadow over his face. Taking an even bigger risk, the younger god stepped forward with a vigilant step.

“She’s not weak Zaman. N’ she’s not powerless. She may not show it now, but one day she’ll get her powers. N’ ya got ta remember she wasn’t born under normal circumstances. We don’t know much of gods who were born the way she was.” Coriander inched closer, reaching out with a tentative hand. “So ya don’t really know if she will ever get her powers or not. But ya have ta admit, she’s got some godhood in her.” His hand touched Zaman’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Jus’ give the lass some time. It’s what yer good with ain’t it?”

Zaman stood there motionless for a long time. Long enough for Coriander to wonder if his words reached him. “Zaman? Do ya hear m-OOF!” Coriander barely had time to catch the time god as he pitched forward, landing on Coriander heavily.

“Och! Been packin’ on the pounds have we?” Coriander grunted through his teeth, easing the old god down to the floor. Zaman blinked lazily at him as the God of War set him down on the ground, his three blue eyes looking up at his old friend questionably.

“Alright, there we go.” Coriander sighed, wiping his brow, clinking the metal band around his arm against his helmet. “Ah got ta say Zaman, fer bein’ one of the old ones, ya might want ta think ‘bout keepin’ yer emotions in check. Ya know what happens if ya let yer emotions get the better of you.”

Zaman was silent, but nodded. “… ‘m sorry.”

“Ahh don’t be. Jus’ glad ya didn’t brin’ the whole buildin’ down.” Coriander gestured to one of the many still fresh scotched spots. “Though Lyvia will sure have a few cows when she sees her pottery in pieces.”

Zaman groaned, hitting his head against his knee. “Blast it pecking… I-I’m sorry Coriander. I shouldn’t have exploded like that.”

“N’ Ah said it was fine.” Coriander waved it off, kneeling to eye level with his friend. “Though ta be honest, Ah didn’t think ya would get so worked up over this.”

“I don’t.” Zaman sighed, rubbing his face and feeling the years piling up on him. “I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t be feeling so worked up about this. I should just be satisfied knowing that my granddaughter is alive and happy and content with just as she is… but…” Both gods looked out at the doorway into the garden.

The little goddess was chasing a white rabbit, smiling brightly with her eyes glistening with joy. Her hair trailed behind her like silk waving in the wind, her skin glowing like a star in the night sky. Her fits of laughter sounded as if music was dancing in the air.

“… But why do I feel that… it’s not enough?”

“… Look. Ah might not be wise as you are, or really all that nice of a god, but ya jus’ have ta have some hope that yer grandkid will get her powers one day.” Coriander gazed sympathetically at his moping friend. “Maybe not now… but, Ah’m sure one day she’ll get them. Ya jus’ have ta wait n’ see.”

)*(

𝔖𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰. 𝔗𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔪𝔢. 𝔚𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔡𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔢𝔢?

𝕀 𝕤𝕖𝕖. 𝕀 𝕤𝕖𝕖. 𝔸 𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤. 𝔾𝕣𝕠𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕡𝕒𝕤𝕤.

𝐼 𝓈𝑒𝑒. 𝐼 𝓈𝑒𝑒. 𝒜 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇. 𝐹𝒶𝓁𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹𝓈. 𝐼𝓉 𝓉𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝒻𝓁𝓎 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓎𝑒𝓉 𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝒻𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝓈.

˙uʍouʞ ǝq ʇı ʇǝl oʇ ɥʇɓuǝɹʇs ǝɥʇ puıɟ ʇou uɐɔ ʇnq 'pɹɐǝɥ ǝq oʇ ɓuıuɹɐǝʎ 'ǝunʇ sʇı suɹoɯ ʇI ˙uʍouʞun ǝɥʇ uıɥʇıʍ ʇso˥ ˙ɓuos ∀ ˙ǝǝs I ˙ǝǝs I

ℑ 𝔰𝔢𝔢. ℑ 𝔰𝔢𝔢. 𝔄 𝔣𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔦𝔭𝔭𝔢𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔫𝔰. ℑ𝔱 𝔟𝔲𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔦𝔱𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣 𝔦𝔫 𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔡𝔰, 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬 𝔤𝔯𝔬𝔴 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔱𝔰 𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔨 𝔦𝔫 𝔞 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔰𝔬 𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔶. ℑ𝔱 𝔴𝔦𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔦𝔱𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔶, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔦𝔱𝔰 𝔠𝔞𝔭𝔞𝔟𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔶. 𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔤𝔱𝔥.

𝕊𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤. 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕕𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕟?

ℑ𝔱 𝔪𝔢𝔞𝔫𝔰 𝔞 𝔫𝔢𝔴 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔰𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯.

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝒾𝓈 𝒶𝓁𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓉𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻. 𝐼𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒.

¿sɹǝʇsıs ǝɔɐld ǝʞɐʇ ʇı llıʍ uǝɥM ¿ʎɹoʇs sıɥʇ ɟo ʇɐɥʍ ʇnᙠ ˙sɐǝs sʇı uı ɹǝʇɐʍ ʎʇuǝld sɐɥ uɐǝɔo ǝɥʇ sɐ ʇsnɾ 'ɟo ǝɔuɐpunqɐ uı ǝʌɐɥ ǝʍ ʇɐɥʍ sı ǝɯı⊥ ˙ǝɯı⊥

𝔓𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢, 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔰𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯, 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔱𝔰 𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔭𝔞𝔠𝔢. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔩𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔶 𝔰𝔭𝔲𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔶 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔟𝔶 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔰. 𝔄𝔩𝔩 𝔴𝔢 𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔡 𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔱.

𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓉? 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹����𝓇𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓈𝓊𝓂𝑒? 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓈 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹𝓈? 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹𝓈 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝑒𝓃𝑔𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝒹? 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝓁𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓈 𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓂𝓅𝓉𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓀 𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒?

𝔏𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔟𝔢𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔶 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔰𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯. 𝔅𝔲𝔱 𝔰𝔬𝔬𝔫. 𝔖𝔬𝔬𝔫 𝔦𝔱 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢. 𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔫𝔬𝔴, 𝔴𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔴𝔞𝔦𝔱.

𝕎𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕥 𝕥𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕦𝕤.

˙uodn pıɐl uǝǝq sɐɥ ʇı ʇɐɥʇ ɥʇɐd sʇı sʇɹɐʇs ʎɹoʇs ǝɥʇ llıʇ ʇıɐʍ llɐɥs ǝM

𝒲𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓌𝒶𝒾𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝓀𝒾𝓁𝓁𝓈 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓈 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒽𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔.

𝔚𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔴𝔞𝔦𝔱 𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔴𝔢 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔡𝔢𝔡. 𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔢𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔦𝔱𝔲𝔡𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔠𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢 𝔞𝔰 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶 𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔡𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔬𝔩𝔡. 𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔨 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔞𝔡𝔢, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔶 𝔰𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔱. 𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔩𝔶 𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔣 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔬𝔩𝔡?

#death's flower au #conductor #tim ceo of time #hat kid #Roman Gods

[elliemarchetti]

What If (part 2)

Due to the kind comments, I tag @lilyharvord and @chaoslaborantin in this second part, hope you enojoy even if it’s a little longer than the previous. For whoever missed the first part, it’s here. 

Plot: 320 NE, Coriane is Queen of Norta and mother of Cal and Maven

Word count:2601 

Friday 13, August 320 NE

“So, lady Titanos, what do you think of the Hall of the Sun?” asked a girl sat in front of her. Her name was Atara, probably from the Viper House, judging from the green and black dress. She was the same girl who exterminate the doves at the Queenstrial. “I suppose there is no comparison with the village where you lived before.” she added, spitting out the word "village" as if it were poisonous. The other ladies laughed with her and some whispered to each other, scandalized.

Blood boiled in Mare's veins and she had to pause before answering, hoping to calm down. "The Hall of the Sun and Summerton are very different from the places I'm used to."

"I would like to see," intervened another, leaning forward to fit into the conversation. Those girls were all about her age but their confidence was worthy of an adult. “Once I went around the valley from the capital and I could see that the villages of the Reds are deplorable. They don’t even have proper roads! "

Mare tried to smile, while the other ladies expressed agreed opinions, but failed.

“As for the Reds, I suppose they cannot do better with what they have." added with a grimace the Welle girl that was talking before. “They’re made for a life like that.”

“It’s not our fault if they’re born slaves.” a Rhambos with brown robes intervened casually, as if she were talking about the weather.

"I'm sorry to have to correct you, Lady Rhambos, but the Reds historically were not born to be slaves." the Queen intervened, a calm reprimand that froze the little smile on the young woman's lips. "The Reds were born free, just like us Silvers and every other creature of this world. When the evolution, the anomaly that allowed us to become superior beings, took hold, the Reds tried to crush us like we were monstrosity, but they failed miserably, and the Silvers took what was rightfully theirs, and I am sure that my brother, during the history lessons, told you about this event. " she finished, with a slight smile, but there was no trace of the maternal expression that usually showed off the woman. No girl moved, so it was Mare who answered affirmatively. With blatant behavior, the Queen sighed in relief, as if she had been worried that Julian had stopped giving long and complex lessons to her students.

"So could Lady Mareena really be a daughter of Reds?" Atara asked, as if she didn’t already know the answer by herself. Mare had to keep from rolling her eyes, exasperated. The Queen, however, with complete tranquility explained to her that no, now evolution had stopped going in that direction, and therefore she could only be the daughter of Lord Titanos and consort. She was a good liar and perhaps Mare told herself that she should have feared her more for that than for her ability. "This does not change that she was raised by Reds who she believed to be her real family for a long, long time."

"Will you execute those Reds liars?" asked the Welle girl, making her almost suffocate with the sip of water that she had risked drinking. She had not thought about this possibility: in the queen’s story, her father knew perfectly well that she was actually a daughter of the Silver nobility and the mere fact that he had taken her away was enough to be considered rapture.

"Absolutely not, that man has unintentionally rendered a worthy service to the Silver nobility, returning a House that we thought extinct, as well as the daughter of a dear friend of the King. When he brought lady Mareena far from the front, he believed to act in her interest, convinced that the Lakelands spies wanted to kill Ethan and Nora's daughter too, even if she was an infant.” replied the Queen and Mare relaxed in her chair, as she hadn’t done for a week.

“But why take her for so long and make her live as a Red?” asked the Rhambos girl, as if she wasn’t here.

“He thought the Lakelands’ spies still wanted to kill her and he thought that it was better make her live in a lie than condemn her to certain death.” replied the Queen, tireless.

“But even the Reds should know that nothing’s as safe as the Royal court.” commented Atara.

“In fact, he send her here.” replied the Queen. That wasn’t the truth, but it was alright, as long as she was able to take those vipers far from her father. What an intricate web of lies; she would have to write them down, to remind them all. Obviously, she could not do it. If anyone had discovered it, not only would her life be in danger, but also that of those who knew of her true nature. The King, perhaps, could have lied, saying that he didn’t know that she was actually an abnormal Red, and so could the princes and perhaps even Julian, but the Queen would be condemned just like her.

"But sending her here, he knew he would lose her forever: sooner or later Silver's abilities come to light." said the Welle girl. The Queen frowned.

“He didn’t lost her. Mareena is healthy and nobody is going to prevent her from visiting the family that raised her. In fact, we wanted to accompany her on her journey when we leave the Hall of the Sun."

Mare held her breath. She would see her parents again. Perhaps, one last time, she could even hug her siblings and say goodbye to Kilorn. A spark of hope lit up in her chest, while the other women began to talk about the lessons she was taking to be worthy of her title. Mare didn’t cared: her heart was pounding like a hammer in her chest, and she had to impose herself on her behavior to prevent her face from blushing.

 Friday 20, August 320 NE

Someone knocked on the door, and even before Coriane could ask whether his son was successful in his task, Cal opened the door, revealing the face of the Red, who peeked into the room studying every detail. The Queen was aware that the room didn’t suited her rank, but she didn’t care: the models of jets, boats, cars and even trains and motorcycles reassured her, reminding her of where she came from. Moreover, with her Queen's status, she no longer had to hide the manuals inside the books given by Julian, but she could buy them without shame, and expose them with pride, just as her brother exhibited his ancient and dusty tomes. Without wasting any more time, Cal had the two new arrivals seated, taking a seat next to Mare. It was a bizarre scene, and if it hadn’t happened in her family, maybe she would have enjoyed it too, but that was not the time to cry on spilled milk.

“Now that we’re all here” she said, straightening her back “we can start to talk about what’s going to happen tonight.”

Coriane paused, studying her sons and Mare’s expressions. Even if she tried to hide it, she was ecstatic.

“I didn’t told Tibe.” she admitted, mostly to win the girl’s trust “I said I wrote a letter to your family” she went on, looking at the Red “but I didn’t, because I know sentinels control the correspondence, especially if it’s from the Hall of the Sun, but I need them to know the current situation before our official visit and I think that hearing it from you is the best way.”

If Cal and Maven were somehow surprised by her words, they didn’t show it. Not that she expected the girls she'd talked to the previous week to keep their mouth shut, indeed, she wanted them to talk. The whole court have to know they were going to visit a Red family; if possible, she wanted the whole country to accept that this royal family was different from the previous.

“The plan’s simple. When we’re done, Maven will accompany you to your room, where you have to change in suitable clothes that I told the maids to left in your closet. If someone ask you something, tell them I requested your presence to talk about your wedding, but if they insist in knowing the details, threaten them, if necessary; nobody should have the guts to meddle in the royal family’s affairs.”

A smug smile escaped Maven’s lips, while Cal seemed uncomfortable. Probably he didn’t liked the idea of Mare and his brother finally bound by marriage.

“On the way to your room” she went on, turning to her younger son “knock on the door, then go straight to bed: if sentinels see you still up and we’re not lucky, they could report it to your father and he will become suspicious.”

She turned back to Mare, who listened intently. She was a thief, or at least that was what Cal had told her, but not only: underneath those brown curls, she had a thinking brain, an active and lively mind that not even the living among the Reds had threatened to endure.

“When your way will be cleared, Cal will knock on your door and you both must hurry to the garage, but try not to look suspicious; we have only one chance.”

Mare nodded, a little nervous, maybe, but it was probably normal: she was used to follow Silvers laws and fear them, and now a Silver was trying to sneak her out of the Hall of the Sun.

“Cal,” Coriane ended, with the most maternal voice “I know you know how to use the supercycle and the road to the Stilts is familiar to you, but be careful.”

Her son nodded, like the obedient son she wanted him to be. Deep down, she knew he had inherited all her rebellious spirit.

Before leaving, Mare turned to her, trying to ask something she didn’t have the courage to. Judging from the look in her eyes, she wanted to know why it has to be Cal the one who should take her home. Coriane smiled, reassuringly. She knew many things, and surely, she can recognize love when she sees it in the eyes of her son.

 Friday 27, August 320 NE

They were in a greenhouse in the Hall of the Sun. Twisted shadows, one more frightening than the other, stretched out on the ground, offering them an immeasurable amount of good hiding places from which they can monitor undisturbed the possible arrival of agents or sentinels.

“Excuse me if I don’t do the reverence.” Farley said, emerging from a groove of magnolias where they were hidden, when two figures approached. One was Walsh, Tristan’s girlfriend, and the other was obviously Shade’s sister.

“Farley.” she said, greeting the Scarlet Guard’s captain. Therefore, they’ve already met. Farley didn’t return the greeting, asking Walsh where the other one was. Nobody, not even Farley, knew who the new recruit was, but they all believed was a Red, someone who worked in the palace, but looking at Walsh face, nobody had ever been so excited for a simple recruit.

“What does that mean? Who else joined?” asked Mare, a little too loudly for his tastes, but not wrongly.

When the younger prince emerged from the shadows with Holland, a red servant of a certain age, with many years of service behind him, a wave of panic invaded Thomas. He was a Silver, the enemy. Yet he was nervous, probably because of Farley's gun pointed at his head, lips rippled and sweat pouring down his neck. He was mortal too, after all.

Thomas exchanged a look with Tristan, swallowing hard. If she pulled the trigger, she would sign their death sentence. Perhaps Mare could have saved Holland and Walsh, but he wasn’t so sure. The tension in the greenhouse broke like shattered glass only when Farley lowered her pistol, perhaps convinced by the prince's words.

"Imagine what it would mean to have him as an ally, the difference he could make." said Holland, trying to sound detached, as if the boy were only a pawn in that too dangerous game, but betraying himself when a tender look fell on the bloody hand of the younger prince. He must have cut his hand with his nails when he clenched his fist.

He wasn’t ashamed of the silver blood that dripped slowly on the floor tiles, nor did his expression betrayed that he felt any kind of pain. That boy was different, not a Silver like the others, used to healers and court care, but neither Thomas’s words nor anyone else would serve to convince Farley: only he could do it. So he swore on his colors, and he promised to perform his duties towards the Scarlet Guard. Then, he was in, a member like everyone else, the first Silver to join a Red cause.

Silently, Mare took his hand, and Thomas didn’t know why but had to look away. He felt Tristan’s gaze on him, but he stood still, eyes fixed on Farley’s blonde hair.

 Friday 3, September 340 NE

When she finally talked again, her voice was shaky.

“The cameras saw everything.”

"The imagines are controlled by sentinels loyal to my family. Believe me, right now this is the smaller of our problems.” He muttered, squeezing her arm, dragging her into a secondary passage at the sight of a couple noblemen at the end of the corridor they were walking.

Only the idea that anyone could see her terrified him. If they discovered her, they would have executed her, and probably he, who was dragging her away from the heart of the Hall of the Sun, would have suffered the same fate. Perhaps Cal could have saved himself if he had lied well, but his parents? Could they pretend to have no clue about everything? Maven doubted it.

He wiped the blood away from her cheek with the sleeve of his black shirt and led her to his uncle’s apartments. He needed to knock only once, and then Julian opened, with his usual absorbed look.

“Maven” he greeted him with a smile. He didn’t replied and pushed Mare inside the living room, hurrying to close the door behind them.

Uncle Julian had a small apartment of a few rooms where he lived with aunt Sara, made even more claustrophobic by the darkness and the smell of tea. The curtains pulled out the afternoon sunlight and piles of loose paper sheets were scattered everywhere on the ground. They were uncle Julian's studies, his personal notes, and ever since he was a child, Maven remembered his place at the Hall of the Sun with the same appearance.

"What happens?" Julian asked, letting them sit on a couple of chairs. Maven gently pulled Mare’s hair away from her face, showing the cut that had stopped bleeding and the countless ecchymosis that made their way under the clear makeup.

“Evangeline got carried away.” She tried to joke, and Maven smiled, reassured. The Samos girl didn’t broke her, after all.

“Can aunt Sara help her?” asked Maven, and judging by the discomfort in his uncle gaze, he supposed he didn’t told her the truth about Mare. Understandable, given the risks involved in knowledge.

After a few seconds of silent, in which he shifted his weight from a leg to the other, he growled something that seemed an agreement, so Maven ran without restraint to where he was sure he could find her.

#what if #coriane jacos #cal calore #maven calore #mare barrow #mareena titanos #atara viper #julian jacos #sara skonos #diana farley #ann walsh #tristan boreeve #evangeline samos #thomas #holland #marecal #mareven #thomaven #julian x sara #tristan x ann #can i call them tristann? #isn't it like the most appropriate ship name? #red queen

[galaxydrcaming]

@allxthingsxglxtter

Coriane didn’t like hearing her mom be so down about herself, the young woman having no doubt that Mare was a strong, amazing woman who’d made mistakes but pushed through and did what she thought was right.  If she was even a little as great as her mom she’d be happy, so the idea Mare thought poorly of herself broke her heart.  “That’s really awesome, that Uncle Shade is here!  Maven being here is interesting...but I’ll try not to get too close.  Oh, dad doesn’t remember? I’m sorry Mo..Mare.  I’m gonna try to call you Mare to help with the freaking out.”

She kept hugging the other, rubbing her back gently and making no move to back away until Mare did. “Of course.  You looked like you could use one.  Hugs always help me, and I know they help you. Or, at least, they do in the future.”

Mare did her best to not feel so awkward, still in disbelief if she were being completely honest but who could really blame her? Mare didn't expect to have any kind of happy ending, and the idea of having a kid with Cal was..not entirely impossible, but a surprise nonetheless. "I mean, I would prefer it if you didn't get close to him at all, Coriane, I don't trust him." Her tone falls into the facade of Mareena, wanting her to know just how deep the hatred went and also having a sense of protection for the girl in front of her. "No, but he's starting to remember some things, so maybe he'll eventually get the rest. That would help, yes."

Pulling away from the hug, she frowns and nods her head slowly. "They do help me even now, I just only really hug the people I'm really close to, which I could count on both hands now that I think about it." She looks down at her own hands for a second and takes in a deep breath. "Am I a good one? A mom, I mean."

#c; coriane #( && little lightning girl ;; mare says )

[petergrantkavinsky]

Cal’s sad childhood

I was rereading QUEEN SONG the other day and realized once again how sad Cal’s childhood must have been.

According to Coriane, Cal was “a fat baby, smiling early, laughing often, growing bigger by leaps and bounds,” and according to Maven in KING’S CAGE, Cal was “always smiling and talking and laughing and perfect.” And then when Cal was only seven months old, Coriane died. The poor baby might not have understood a lot of things yet then, but he must have felt the loss of his mother. The once always-smiling-talking-and-laughing baby became lonely. He was left under the care of nannies, because while Tibe loved his son, he was too busy being king and most likely spent most of his free time sulking and drinking the pain of losing his dear wife away��� until he became an angry, lonely, and heartbroken king. 

Norta needed a queen and a spare ASAP. Only three months after Coriane’s death and just a month before Cal’s first birthday, Tibe had to remarry. (Had because I think Tibe would never have wanted to get married again, only three months after Coriane’s death, much less to Elara whose guts he hated.) This time, he unknowingly married the woman who had caused the loss of his first three unborn babies and psychologically tortured and killed his first wife and who would also plot his demise eighteen years later. And so, that was how Cal got himself an evil stepmother. He had to live with the woman who had killed his mother without knowing about it. Did Elara ever mistreat or control Cal in any way? We’ll never know. Just imagining Queen Elara holding baby Cal makes me sick.

And then Maven came. Cal’s Mavey. The brother he loved with all his heart. The brother he looked up to. The brother he’d always known would make a much better king. Maven had a mother. Of course, Cal never knew Elara’s sick way of raising her son; in his eyes, his brother had a mother who loved and cared for him, and to him that was more than he could have ever asked for himself. “Cal definitely wished his mother was around. And there were other qualities in Maven that he admired and wanted, but couldn’t find in himself.” Tibe did shower Cal with so much love (to the point that Maven felt neglected) to make up for Coriane’s absence in his life, but a mother’s love is still different and cannot be substituted. Imagine how Cal must have felt all those times seeing Maven and Elara. He was envious of Maven for he still had a mother, but despite his envy, he still loved him nonetheless. But in the end, Maven betrayed him.

Cal was controlled and forced to kill his own father thanks to Elara and Maven’s scheming. He lost the only parent he’d ever known, and he will forever blame himself for his death. The horrible nightmares. (”And when do you sleep, Cal?” “I don’t. Not anymore.”) He lost the crown that was rightfully his. He was a sad child who grew up with the knowledge that he was going to be king after his father. He made that his only mission. He equated his identity to the crown. But who is Cal without the crown? Without his father by his side? Without Mare by his side? That’s what I want him to find out for himself. 

Most of all, I wish Cal to find happiness too. Not as a prince, not as a king, but as a normal young man. He’s been living a sad life. He deserves happiness too. 

#red queen #tiberias calore vii #tiberias vii #cal calore #text #mine

[lilyharvord]

i had an idea for a writing prompt and i’ve literally been thinking about it for days: during a battle Mare gets thrown into deep water and starts drowning and cal sees it happen from kinda far away so he fights everyone in his path so that he can get to her. then he has to jump in the water to grab her and bring her to the healers so that she can be resuscitated (maybe he has to do the resuscitation himself for some extra drama). Mare is okay after being treated by the healers and we get some fluff of Cal holding Mare on the ride back from the battle to warm her up from the cold water :)

I just think the symbolism fits so perfectly because water is Cals biggest weakness/fear but he wouldn’t even think twice about jumping in to save Mare. Lowkey a missed opportunity for a scene during the series, but tbh i think i like it best post-series because it would show the development of their relationship and attachment to each other.

Gosh I've thought about this too Nonnie!!

For some reason I always land on one of their kids being the one needing rescuing though! Like the cousins are all messing around on a dock (while the adults are close enough to be keeping an eye but loosely) and either Shade or Coriane is waaaay too young to really know how to swim, but the older Barrow cousins are messing around and one of the babies ends up in the water and sinks like a stone and all the cousins are shouting and panicking which is what gets the adults' attention. BUT I adore the idea of Cal going in after them without thought, like there is nothing that is going to stop him from diving head first off that dock after his son or daughter. And he has no idea when he comes up with them that there is no bottom he can fee. And it's not until like an hour or two later when he's holding them wrapped up in a blanket and they're done sniffling and over the trauma of almost drowning that he realizes what happened and shivers.

I'm all for showing development between him and Mare but tbh I love it more when he's a dad for some reason. There's just something so mature about it.

#(*ask lily*) #(*shut up lily*) #red queen #glass sword #kings cage #war storm #broken throne #post broken throne #listen Cal as a dad lives in my head rent free #he would be such a good dad 🥲 #and we were robbed of seeing him interact with his children

[kihlorn]

I'll give you two characters : Maven and Coriane

MAVEN-

How I feel about this character: I hate him, but I love him. In the first book, I didn’t ship him with Mare, but when he betrayed us all, in the moments he hesitated to do things because of Cal being his brother, I felt so bad for him. I still feel so, so bad for him, because of what his mother did to him, and because of Thomas, too. Instead of growing and learning to make his choices, he was stripped from that and was forced to do as his mother pleased.

All the people I ship romantically with this character: Thomas, and Thomas alone. I don’t know if happiness counts as a person. 

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Cal and Mavey. The glimpses of their time as siblings were so cute, and I hope they can have those times again.

My unpopular opinion about this character: (I don’t think this is unpopular but) that I want Maven to be happy. Not to die at the hands of his brother.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: Thomaven. I wish he lived. I wonder how different this story would be. Also, if he was somehow able to break free from the claws of his mother inside his mind.

CORIANE-

How I feel about this character: Through the novellas, I got to see how much Coriane is like Cal. How they tinker with tools, especially. She was a woman who was crippled by Elara’s mind, and I feel like we didn’t get much to see of her. All I know of is just her memory, and how she had died. Her diary, is something I would have liked to have read to understand her more.

All the people I ship romantically with this character: The young Tibe VI. 

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Coriane’s relationship with Sara and Julian, along with Cal.

My unpopular opinion about this character: I don’t think I have one.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: Coriane getting to see Cal grow up. *cries*

thank you for the ask! and sorry this was a long post.

[tqmnurse-blog]

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#youngliving essentialoils Purposefullypeppermint holistichealth healthyliving cleanliving naturalsolutions healthylifestyle holistic nontoxi

[themadauthorshatter]

OTP Parent Headcanons!!!!!!

I'm focusing on Red Queen, SGE, and Nightmare Before Christmas, specifically in that order.

It's Valentine's Day, I'm bored, so here's a random OTP Parent post😅

Red Queen:

Cal cried when Shade and Coriane were born. Mare laughs thinking about it because she'd never seen him cry like he did before.

Mare taught them how to be quick with their hands and feet; old habits die hard.

Cal allows them to WATCH when he builds something, but not exactly help. It's nothing personal, he just doesn't want them to get hurt.

Neither ask "Why?" whenever told to do something because Cal gave them really scary "stop it" eyes.

They do as they're told.

Coriane has the Barrow's warm brown skin and Shade is just as pale as his father.

Mare occasionally lets them get away with murder.

When they were young, Cal would tell them they were going to get icecream whenever they had to go to the dentist. In their adolescence, both still get skeptical when the family ACTUALLY goes out to get icecream.

These two are fast and strong, joining their parents in training/workouts.

Neither bring up Uncle Maven. It's an unspoken agreement between them.

Catch for Cal and Shade is just them tossing a ball of fire to each other. The only time they use a real ball when it's Mare, Coriane, Cal, and Shade all playing together. There are no teams.

Cal had a heart attack when Coriane contemplated getting a tattoo. He saw his life flash before his eyes when Shade started examining his arms and wondering if he'd look good with some ink.

Cal and Mare are open with and accepting towards their children, Cal especially due to his grandfather having been a homosexual and his brother having been bisexual.

Mare is better about talking about her brother Shade, who her son Shade wishes he could've met. She agrees.

Mare left and came home and saw the uoung Shade and Coriane asleep on Cal's chest and shoulder, Cal also asleep.

Ruth WOULD NOT leave them alone when Coriane was born. It got a little better when Shade was born, but Mare literally had to tell her to leave them alone for a little bit.

School for Good and Evil:

Tedros was not allowed to see Agtha while their child was being delivered; the nurse didn't want him fainting or freaking out and causing Agatha stress.

It took two hours, but the baby was delivered and healthy for a newborn.

Agatha almost refused to let Tedros hold their son because she already loved him so much.

He had his father's golden hair and his mother's dark brown eyes, giving him a sharp, defined look.

Tedros made sure he would raise his son and be there for him.

He was.

Agatha was very good at teaching him how to read and write.

The kid has one hell of a throwing arm.

He's good with a sword, but he's better with a spear.

When people first see him, they say he's ugly. Upon closer inspection, and a longer look, they see his beauty.

Aunt Sophie keeps trying to get Agatha and Tedros to enroll him in the SGE. They have both agreed and told her that the more she nags them, the more they'll consider homeschooling, Agatha already buying textbooks that would ACTUALLY teach the boy something useful.

Sophie cannot leave this kid alone because she sees so much of her sister and friend in him.

He once called Aunt Sophie "Uncle Filip," and Sophie almost burst into tears when Agatha started cackling and Tedros.exe stopped working.

He likes cats and dogs.

Can't keep his hands off Uncle Hort's hair; it's just so warm!!!

Nightmare Before Christmas:

The only time Jack skipped Halloween was when he was spending time with his triplets.

Sally giggles at the mini Jacks that follow her and their father.

The mayor isn't as fussy with Jack as he used to be now that Jack has "cut it out" eyes. His aren't as scary as Cal's, because he doesn't want to traumatize his children, but it gets the job done.

Sally's better with discipline.

All three freaked out when Jack took off his head in front of them.

All three are beautiful singers.

There was a mishap in Dr. Finkelstein's office, and let's just say that he had red hair before going unconscious, and woke up with black hair 3 hours later. He forgot how it happened, but when he woke up, he smiled like a frazy person and said, proud and full of vigor from where he lay on the floor, on his back, "That was awesome."

Jack refuses to let any of his children go near Lock, Shock, and Barrel.

These were their first reactions to seeing snow for the first time: Fear and confusion, "I can't move in this, I'm cold, let me back inside!", and leaned forward and fell face first into the snow.

Sally never questions that Jack is a amart person, but she has genuinely worried that all three triplets inherited his critical thinking skills when one triplet ran into the wall and walked away like nothing happened, another spent five minutes trying to think of the word bagpipe, and the third drew put a plan to build a trebuchet so she could go to the moon.

Her worries were stemmed when one spelled the word arachnophobia correct on the first try, another picked up the correct herbs for a soup, and the third watched Jack do his self combustion, pumpkin king dance and said to Sally, "That's really dangerous."

All the same, she kept an eye and ear out for them.

Zero loves all three of these little nightmares.

Jack will not hesitate to go into attack mode if you get too close to his children.

An additional note with all three dads: Touch their babies, and they will kill you. None of them would even imagine raising a hand against their children.

#red queen #school for good and evil #nightmare before christmas #mare barrow #tiberias calore vii #cal calore #marecal #tagatha #tedros #agatha #tedros of camelot #agatha of woods betond #jack skellington #jack x sally #OTP Parents

[evangelineartemiasamos]

Red Queen Secret Santa 2019

A fanfiction for @redqueen-marecal-lover

I hope you’ll enjoy it! It’s a next generation story <3

A Melody and A Flame

Coriane

My life began to take a turn downward with that cursed party. Before, I was a girl just like any other, no one special, who only wanted to improve on the violin and whose biggest problem was jealousy of her pampered baby brother.

I could’ve guessed, I suppose, paid more attention, listened to my parents discussing matters going beyond the concerns of a 12-year-old. In hindsight, everything is possible and foreseeable, when in truth, I don’t think it would’ve changed anything. It wasn’t my fault.

Furthermore, I had no reason to anticipate anything. I was a child, and everyone in my family, everyone who cared about me and who I cared for in return, wanted me to do anything but be a child. For them, this simple thing had been a luxury they happily granted me.

Unfortunately, there were people who didn’t care about me, but my pedigree.

I have to confess I was the most excited about the party myself. It was to be an event much grander than the usual school concerts I played at; a soirée of guests from all over Norta and even from beyond her borders where several groups of young musicians could present their skills. Weeks before I was listed in the string orchestra, I’d had been eyeing a dress in a Summerton boutique. I’d tried it on a few times, sneaking behind the vendors, and fell in love with the deep green gown with its high lace cleavage, dreaming of myself on the stage in the ballroom of the Summerton town hall, the former palace.

The day I received the news that I would play at the party, I’d also saved enough of my own money to go and buy the dress. No longer the awkward 12-year-old in the exquisite shop, I entered the boutique with determination and pride, trying on the dress for a final time and lifting my violin out of its case to test its feel against the fabric as well.

The vendors listened intently to the handful of notes that spread through the shop, smiling at me with utmost politeness when we finished the trade. I beamed as well, obviously, and did so the rest of the day and when I stormed home, full of joy.

My parents weren’t at home, so I couldn’t tell them yet. Instead I took care of Shade, my little brother. Years ago, our parents had been worried if it worked out, my violin lessons and a lively toddler, yet that had never become a problem. When he was a baby, I’d been ambitious to get good enough to play him lullabies he’d sleep to, and as he grew, he still loved to listen to my exercises – no matter how repetitive – while he’d play quietly with his own toys.

Even at mere five years, he knew to congratulate me as I told him about the party concert and after I showed him the piece I was to perform, I played games with him in turn.

It was one of the best days of my life, altogether. Maybe because that night, I went to bed full of happiness and self-confidence as well as naiveté, for the last time.

My parents heard the news at breakfast. Mom squealed when she learned of it, kissing and hugging and maybe even a little shocking me. I was so happy she was happy for me. Dad was like always, proud of everything I did like I was his own kind of princess, but Mom’s excited outbursts were rare, and thus more precious. It wasn’t just the one concert, it was the perspective coming with it – me becoming a musician, a person living her dream. All Mom could want for her children.

The high mood soured in the afternoon when I presented the dress I loved so much. They still smiled, and I with them, but something had changed. I couldn’t read their faces, didn’t want to either. Finally, Dad pulled me over, sitting down with me. “Coriane, I’m not sure,” he said. “We can’t … we aren’t …”

It was the first of many times I heard these half sentences, buzzing with implications.

We can’t. We aren’t. A code of rules I hadn’t known of caged our lives.

My hands fidgeted and I had to look away. Of course I was pissed, too. How dared they deny me my dream dress?

Dad squeezed my hand and when I pulled away, Mom came over and looked in my eyes.

“It’s green like Montfort,” she said, and Dad nodded. She sighed. “Coriane, see, we can’t … it’s better if we don’t show any allegiances.”

I was bewildered. Montfort was an ally of Norta; Mom’s family lived there and we visited them twice a year. Of course we had ties to Montfort, so why should that ban wearing a colour?

Calmly, they told me that Montfort and Norta kept a careful distance to avoid shedding suspicions of unduly influences – or imperialism – from Montfort’s side. Especially the Barrow-Calore family, once we’d settled back in Norta, had to stay neutral.

M parents were soldiers. Since the last years had been peaceful, I hadn’t watched for signs of political unrest. I hadn’t seen reason to. Life was good. But while my parents weren’t politicians themselves, they were enwrapped with friends high up who provided them with intelligence. In turn, Mom and Dad weren’t to show their personal opinions. Which, I had to realize, extended to their children.

Irked, I tried to take it lightly and proposed in jest several other colours for me to wear – which were all discouraged, a lakelands blue being the last of those. “What? I’d offend everyone equally,” I snapped.

“White is neutral, it’s all colours,” Dad offered eventually. Technically, the same applied to black but even I knew that was the real taboo. Black was the colour of the royal house Calore and its loyalists.

Mom gave me a wry smile. “I have a surprise for you,” she said compassionately and got up. Left waiting, I stared in a mirror. Would the rest of my life be like this, forbidden to wear a certain colour in a certain place, or only when important people could see me?

Coriane Barrow-Calore, that name had never been a problem before. In Summerton, everyone had family or friends who had history with each other, reaching a long way back, rarely nicely. I was one of many. You didn’t see a princess when you met me. My blood was obviously Red, and with my small though not delicate figure, brown skin and brown eyes, I resembled Mom more than Dad. Apart from my long black falling down my back in shiny waves. I loved my hair. Would soon people appear and claim how “Calore” it made me look?

What else did I inherit from him?

Mom returned with another gown, a wholly different one she held up with fanfare. Dad smiled, gestured for me to take it.

I got up slowly. The dress was white, high-waisted and would look rather plain if not for its exquisite materials and tailoring. It was soft cotton and lush silk with intricate embroidery shimmering pearly. It was obviously more expensive than anything I could’ve bought myself.

Mom gazed at the gown with affection. “My sister Gisa made it and sent it as a present for you,” she explained. “It would make her proud if you wore it on the occasion.”

My hand trailed over its skirts. “Sure,” I agreed quietly to make peace. I swallowed my annoyance since the gown was so beautiful. Maybe my parents had really only wanted me to wear this dress. Maybe nothing was actually this dramatic. I realized I couldn’t ignore my royal descent as before but, well, I thought being aware it was a part of growing up.

My parents’ concerns were quickly forgotten as I returned to exercising my music for the concert, returning to what was really important to me.

The evening of the party I put on Gisa’s creation with awe, watching its skirts swing as I pirouetted. Dad seemed similarly amazed. He pinned up half my hair and let the other fall down in curls. Gold and copper make-up shimmered on my cheeks and eyelids, letting my brown eyes sparkle. I hugged Shade before we left and, full of anticipation, played my piece for him one last time. He was still too little for such a party; Mom said he’d be bored. She glanced at me then. I blinked but we said nothing else.

My parents both wore dress uniforms, as usual for events like this.

I understood Mom’s thoughtful look later at the party. The decorated ballroom was impressing, the students playing before me were passionate. So was I. My group was scheduled to play in the middle and my heart beat so fast, I didn’t know if it was excitement or the sensual onslaught of the party. A surprise were the animal decorations of butterflies and birds on the ceilings, corners and pillars. I felt watched and with nervousness, I rushed behind the stage for last preparations. I don’t remember much of the actual concert; it was only about 15 minutes long. My anxiety changed to concentration as I held up my violin and sunk into the music in harmony with my fellow musicians. Pleasant warmth spread through my body. I’d been so glad to receive this spot at all; I didn’t mind not having a solo part. I loved perfecting my skills more than being special. I was no one special during my performance, rather someone talented, and it was good.

This emotion of content was lost afterward. I still brimmed with its lingering presence but the party itself became a drag for me. I didn’t know the guests besides my fellow musicians, didn’t know who to talk to or what to say. The ever-present noise bothered me too much to even try to follow a conversation and I abhorred dancing (and with who, furthermore?). Unlike my parents, who, after praising and congratulating me, left me alone to refresh old contacts. I found a seat close to the stage and defended it by staying seated, only to be even more bored after the youth concerts ended. I wanted good music to listen to instead of the droning voices, or at least something to read. I itched to get my violin back from the cloakroom, if only to get comfort by holding and touching it and occupying my fingers.

Instead, I passed the evening with eating. I couldn’t figure out many of the dishes, so I was hesitant at first, but after I’d found a favourite, I piled a large portion of it on my plate and rushed back to my place. At least nothing bad could be said about the potatoes.

Sometimes, I thought I heard my name whispered behind me and startled. Had someone noticed I was one of the artists? Yet I dreaded being spoken to and was relieved when nothing followed up. My unsettlement stayed though and the animal decorations only turned weirder. From the corners of my eyes, I believed they were moving, but how could that be? In my growing confusion, I looked around the ballroom and glimpsed my parents in the distance. I jumped up. It was getting late enough to leave.

Give it a good end, I said to myself, find Mom and Dad and say goodbye to your music partners. I strove for them, careful not to bump into people. I was relieved when I reached the empty dancefloor yet something was odd about it. I’d intended to dash across it, to the alcove where Dad was, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I footed further, goose bumps rising on my skin. My eyes moved as I gasped: This time, I was certain the birds moved.

And then they flew toward me.

I screamed.

I lifted my arms to protect myself. I was so hot. Butterflies joined the birds and I stepped back. The heat was a comfort. My hand jerked forward and with it, a flame.

I’d felt the heat for months. It rose sometimes when I was anxious yet instead of making me sweat in stress, it coursed my body pleasantly and erased my discomforts. For a moment, it did this at the party too. I’d burned a few of the animals to ashes and bones that dropped to the ground, the rest retreated. I fell to my knees. I stared at my hands that brought forth fire. I didn’t know I could but I wasn’t surprised. Not at all. I smiled faintly. The fire was within me and I could call it back whenever I wanted.

The murmurs returned to the room and with it, my peace vanished. I froze. The master of ceremonies ran toward me and patted my shoulder carefully, as if afraid I’d burn him.

“Madame,” he urged quietly. I blinked; I hadn’t liked his touch. He swallowed, his lips moving before he repeated, “madame…!” and prompted me to rise.

He took my hand by the fingertips in an odd mix of firm and light which I only realized later as reverence, as well as that he’d wanted to call me by my name first. Fortunately, he didn’t, or I wouldn’t have made it to my parents and back home before the guests figured out who I was by themselves.

That was bound to happen soon enough.

I didn’t go to school the days after the party. We didn’t know what to do when the letters started to arrive. The morning after the event, my parents pretended normalcy. They were good at it, at least in front of Shade and me. Mom played with Shade and Dad was his usual talkative self. I considered he liked that I was a burner like him. No one could guess what kind of ability I’d have and I’d imagined how Mom and Dad would joke with each other once we found out.

I wanted to find that in the way he smiled but I saw no genuine joy. I knew when he asked me if there’d been a spark.

“A spark?”

He sighed. “Did you need a source to … make fire?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, looking away. I did know. He asked because he wondered if my ability was like a Silver’s or a Newblood’s. I had to be Newblood, didn’t I? I was a Red with an ability, but could one be sure when I was half Silver?

Sure was I that the fire came from within me, no need for a spark. It was mine. While Dad was merely curious about my ability, the letters told another story: Of people who believed my fire a beacon of rebirth – the rebirth of the burning crown.

I read every one of the letters; my parents soon ceasing to try to talk me out of it. I had to know what concerned me. None of the letters was straight-forwardly royalist. None addressed me as “highness” or “princess”. The master of ceremonies had only been the beginning of an endless line of “madames” and “my ladies”, used so often it turned into something deeper than politeness. It was blatant. Some even dared to reduce my name to “Coriane Calore”, dropping Mom’s last name like they wanted to remove her heritage from me and Norta herself.

Beyond the addresses, the contents were artworks of suggestive insinuations. What a pleasure to see a burner in the Hall of the Sun, they wrote, using the old name of the building that was outdated though not forbidden.

Your flame gave me hope for Norta, said another.

My family rejoiced at the memories you woke, said the letter sent by Carol Viper, probably the most disturbing one. The Vipers were the important, most dangerous of the royalists and seceders and likely those responsible for the bird assault causing my outburst. It’d be investigated. The Vipers liked to deny accusations of animal spies or attacks and so Carol Viper was barely tolerated in Norta only for her insistence of distance to her traitorous relatives.

I figured which memories she wrote about – my mother falling into Summerton’s Queenstrial 23 years ago and revealing her Newblood ability. I suppose, while I was a burner like Dad, Mom and I would always share the way our abilities showed themselves in public.

The letters were a slap in the face that came back again and again. After two days and a dozen of them, I expected Prince Arthur of the Lakelands – who had been one of the foreign guests – to ask for my hand in marriage. I thought that my childhood was over, that a girl is only allowed to be a child until someone notices she is useful for them. Now I was some kind of fire goddess. I stared at the walls of my room when I didn’t read the letters. For once, I didn’t yearn for my violin, didn’t itch to occupy my mind and fingers by creating music. I thought … I thought my dream of a music career had ended, that I was no longer free to pursuit it when I was under the threat of being turned a reactionary’s political tool. The fear of losing the music pained me.

Mom came for me every day, joining me on the bed with her face full of care and worry and love. She understood how strange this was. A Red girl with an ability, a child of a Red and a Silver, no one would’ve cared for me 20 years ago. I would’ve been reviled at best; now the royalists probably thought themselves progressive by “championing” me.

Mom waited until I asked her to hug me and after years, I wanted it again. I hadn’t enjoyed touches since I was little. With her arms around me, I cried, craving to be a little kid again, when I was my parents’ greatest treasure. Their firstborn child, born of Mom’s first pregnancy ever without any of the complications that came after. Mom and Dad had held me for comfort after her miscarriages; happy that while having a second child turned out to be so difficult, they’d always have me.

I was jealous of baby Shade because everything had become different by then, in the seven years that lay between us. I was the strong and healthy big girl while he was little, frail and to be protected. No matter that he grew up as strong as me, Mom and Dad pampered Shade for the losses we’d suffered.

My jealousy was so meaningless now.

“Can’t we go back to Montfort, Mom?” I asked. “To that lonely cottage in the mountains?”

Mom stayed silent like she was considering it. Then she shrugged. “You have a guest,” she said instead, stroking my hair one last time. I groaned, she smiled. “Don’t worry, it’s family,” she reassured me. She rose and left and the door didn’t open before Clara, my cousin, entered the room.

I yelped because she still enjoyed startling people by teleporting.

It made for very good distraction, though.

Clara grinned, falling on the bed beside me. Her amusement waned a little as she noticed my blotchy, tear-stained face. “It’s good to see you,” I said to avoid her pity.

“I hurried to come here but I couldn’t make it to your concert,” Clara replied.

“Too short notice,” I agreed. Her teleporting made it easier to see Clara than my other relatives who lived in Montfort. As her assistant, Clara also accompanied her mother the general on her travels that often meant my parents and Aunt Diana met frequently.

I remembered when Clara and Diana had glared at each other one time when they spoke of Clara’s choice to became a soldier. They hadn’t needed many words, and even I understood them.

You could be anything, Diana’s frown said.

But I choose this, Clara’s lifted chin retorted.

Today, Clara still wore her uniform as we chatted. Usually, she changed into frilly dresses as fast as possible. She’d really hurried and I felt a pang of love for her. My tall and beautiful cousin of 22 was so cool.

She blew a curl out of her face. “You haven’t heard the best yet,” she said. “You know that Ada Wallace left the Harbor Bay government?”

“After like … 20 years?” Ada was – had been – the senator of the region and the partner of Clara’s mom.

Clara nodded. “It was quite hard for Mama and Ada to have a distance relationship but they made it work.” Her serious tone shifted into a wide smile. “We dined together two days ago, to celebrate Ada’s resign – or so I thought.” Clara beamed now. “But then, Ada proposed.”

“No!” I exclaimed.

“Sure! It was the most romantic thing. ‘We served freedom and our countries all this time, you there, me here. Now I’ve done all I could for Harbor Bay, I want to be with you. Always.’ Aww. I cried. Mama cried! And Ada was beyond elated, you should’ve seen her.”

“Damn,” I whispered. “I’ll have to congratulate them.”

Clara tilted her head. “You will, you will. At the wedding the latest.”

“Sure,” I said quietly, again rather uncertain of my future.

Clara played with a tress of my hair. “I expect you to play the waltz, Coriane.”

I took a deep breath. I knew where this was going. My life would continue no matter what.

I’d keep playing the violin. And wearing my lovely green dress, I’d celebrate the hell out of my aunt’s private wedding feast.

“Absolutely,” I promised.

I chose for what I burned.

A/N: The story should speak for itself, but if any of you tag this with “coriane calore”, please don’t ever read one of my stories again.

@merrymareshmallow  @farleydiana @lilyharvord  @goldfincheli @avid-author-activist @redqueenfandom @petergrantkavinsky @elliemarchetti @redqueenetwork  @blairistired @inopinion @maudthebookeater @scxrletguardsdawn @loveverygalaxybouquetstuff

#red queen #red queen secret santa #marecal #coriane barrow-calore #shade barrow-calore #cal calore #mare barrow #victoria aveyard #rqss19 #redqueenetwork #redqueennet #a melody and a flame #red queen one-shots #red queen one-shot #clara farley-barrow #diana farley #fada #ada wallace #i imagined coriane as autistic and gave her many of my feelings