#caleb is made of all the people who brought him along

[britcision]

Okay but like

You know Caleb puts the pearl on the forehead for Fortune’s Favour because that’s where Molly did the smooch when he was dissociating

Like, the spell doesn’t require it, you could just hand it to them, but Caleb puts it there because there will be time for that later

Because he loves his friends and he can’t give them forehead smooches because he’s Caleb

And Essek almost certainly never bothered with that aspect before Caleb

And Essek so admires Caleb and the beautiful little thoughtful touches in his spell casting that he picks up the habit without ever knowing why

And then Caleb kisses him on the forehead in the boat, the same place, the same kiss to pull Essek out of his own head the way Caleb needed so long ago

And Essek still doesn’t know exactly who or what happened, but suddenly he knows why

Caleb didn’t smooch him there because of the spell

Caleb does the spell like that because of the smooch Molly gave him

And then he got the chance to pass it on, to be that grounding force for another wizard in need, and Essek picks up the same exact habit for the same exact reasons

Because that’s where he was given a second chance

Anyway it’s illegal that Molly and Essek can never and will never meet but they’re so strongly linked together

[ghouldump]

Fangirl | Lestat De Lioncourt x Reader

ෆ meeting the vampire rockstar goes surprisingly well

here is something short, while waiting on the other posts coming soon :) if this post isn't up around 7/26 its because i hated the fic so much, i went ahead and deleted it

“How does my hair look?” You kept looking into your phone camera, touching your makeup.

“It looks good, what about my outfit?” Cara, your friend, asked.

“You both look fine, I wish you would come on,” her brother, Caleb groaned.

“Seriously, all of this over some guy who claims he’s a vampire,” her boyfriend, Jason, grumbled, out of jealousy.

“You never know, he might be legit, you know there was a book that came out recently-

“Don’t start with your vampire conspiracies, Y/n,” Jason said, rudely, while Caleb snickered.

“Ignore him, even if he’s pretending, he’s sexy, so it doesn’t matter,” Cara laughed, taking your hand as you both entered the stadium.

Sighing, you tried to focus on the concert, and not let Jason’s words get to you. You could be a little sensitive and his words hit a nerve. Cara was the one who introduced Lestat’s music to you, professing he was her celebrity crush. Since then, you couldn’t deny the overwhelming interest you held for him and his outlandish claim that he was a vampire.

When she brought up the concert, you immediately began saving money, not only for the best seats but for a backstage pass. You were ecstatic, and you couldn’t let someone like Jason of all people ruin your night before it started.

Suddenly, the lights began to dim, the crowd began cheering, he was coming. As the music started, he appeared, and everyone screamed wildly. You could hardly move, frozen, mesmerized by his presence. The hair, face, body, skin, he seemed like the embodiment of perfection. Just as his eyes landed on you, you felt like you could melt, your face burning in excitement.

“I think he just looked at me,” Cara told you.

Not saying a word, you kept your eyes on him, watching as he slightly smirked, grabbing the microphone.

“He kept looking at me,” Cara said as you both made your way backstage. Neither Caleb nor Jason were willing to pay the extra money, leaving to wait in the car for the two of you.

"I think he looked at me too," you said, as she frowned, before scoffing.

“I would’ve noticed, he was basically singing to me,” she cheered, as you both approached the line.

Everyone stood, waiting for their autograph or picture, giving Lestat all of their praises, until it was finally your turn.

“Oh my god, could you sign this?” Cara asked as you made eye contact with Lestat. His gaze was intense, making you look at the floor.

Quickly signing Cara’s album, he hadn’t acknowledged her once, already reaching for your hand.

“Hi, I didn’t bring anything, you can sign my arm,” you laughed, as he quickly wrote his signature.

“Thank you, are you actually a vampire?” You asked. Cara stood awkwardly next to you, waiting for you.

“Y/n, why would you ask him-

“I have no reason to lie, Y/n, would you like proof?” He asked, his eyes examining your outfit in approval.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Why don’t you wait for me?” He pointed towards his dressing room.

“You can’t stay, Caleb and Jason are waiting for us,” Cara told you.

“I will make sure you are home before sunrise, is that alright, ma chèrie?” He asked you, tilting his head.

Nodding, you began to walk into the room, jumping as Cara stumped her feet.

“It’s not fair, I knew your music first,” she told him.

“And I appreciate your support, but I’m afraid you are holding up the line,” he told her, chuckling as she stormed off.

Sitting near the vanity, you received all kinds of messages from Cara. You were tempted to leave, hurt by all the mean things she said, because you chose to stay. You didn’t understand why she was so angry, she had a boyfriend, and you expressed your interest in Lestat as well.

“She’s been jealous of you all along, why do you think she allows her boyfriend to talk to you so rudely?” Lestat asked, rhetorically, taking off the shirt, as soon as he stepped into the room.

“She’s just…a really big fan of yours,” you cleared your throat as he approached.

“Are you a fan?” He asked, leaning on the table in front of you.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Then how she feels is truly irrelevant,” he chuckled.

“We will be leaving shortly,” he continued, changing into a button-down shirt.

Walking to the opulent convertible, you kept your head down. Fans and Paparazzi all called out his name, yet still, they kept a clear path for him, almost afraid of what would happen, blocking his way. He kept a slight smirk on his face, giving them only enough of his attention that would leave them begging for more.

Getting into the car, he blew them a singular kiss before speeding off. As reckless as he seemed, he was a great driver, and patient, listening to the classical music that played lowly on the radio. Finally, he parked in front of a large house.

“T-this is your home?”

“No, just temporarily, my house is in New Orleans,” he said, nonchalantly, getting out of the car, as you hurriedly followed behind him.

Entering the large house, your eyes wandered up the walls, to the ceiling, admiring the details. Looking back down, you realize that Lestat wasn't walking anymore, staring at you.

“What?” you asked, nervously.

“You've been around that wretched excuse of a friend for too long, you have no reason to be timid, you are a piece of art,” he complimented.

The trait reminded him too much of a certain someone, accepting poor treatment, and constantly being undermined and disrespected. You deserved better, much like his Louis did, and for that he liked you a bit more, perhaps you could be around much longer than he originally planned.

“Thank you,” you said, gulping as he circled around you.

Unconsciously, you backed up, moving away from him, until you bumped into the sofa. As you nearly fell backward, he caught you. Reaching for your jaw, he lifted your head, your eyes meeting his, and instantly, he began his hypnotic voice.

“You don’t have to be shy around me, nervous, anxious, you’re allowed to be as carefree as your mortal heart desires,” he said, his thumb brushing against your lips.

“Okay,” you nodded, before snapping out of the trance.

“Come, ma chèrie, the night is still young,” he told you, holding out his hand. Biting back your smile, you accepted his hand, giggling as he swiftly picked you up, carrying you to the master bedroom.

“Why didn’t you stick with opera?” You asked Lestat, you both lay in his bed, conversing for the last two hours.

“I’m a man of many talents,” he smirked.

“Like pretending to be a vampire,” you stood on your knees, before he pulled you into his lap. Baring his teeth, you gasped for a moment, realizing the fangs were real.

“As stated before, I have no reason to lie, I have been a vampire for over two centuries”

“You’re legit,” you smiled excitedly, as you reached for his teeth, poking the fang.

“You’re more excited than I imagined”

“I hoped you were, that it wasn’t a costume,” you confessed to him.

“To fulfill your fantasies? I see what you think of happening, of doing. For your desires to be made manifest, show me what you want, what your heart calls out to me for,” he told you, kissing your wrist, as you climbed out of the bed.

Undoing your top, as soon as it fell to the floor, Lestat was in front of you. His glass-like nails trailed across your stomach, as he circled you. Pulling you into his embrace, he took in your scent. Goosebumps covered your arms, as you stood pressed against his cold chest.

His hands brushed against your neck, before moving to your breast, cupping them. Closing your eyes, you moaned, as his fangs sank into your neck. The sensation of your blood draining, mixed with the massaging from his hands, the exchange felt better than sex.

Pulling away, you stared into his eyes, your blood all over his mouth. Grabbing your head, he hungrily kissed your lips, picking you up, and carrying you to bed. Stripping the remainder of your clothes, Lestat kissed you as if he'd never been kissed.

“Am I going to die?” you asked, catching his attention.

“All mortals die,” he reminded you, before he went back to kissing your neck, smirking as you moaned.

“Will you turn me?” you asked.

“Not tonight, ma chérie,” he laughed, pulling the blanket over the two of your bodies.

Lestat’s ego was stroked, hearing how much you were turned on by your blood being drunk. So much that he was willing to give you the real thing to compare it to since you thought it was so much better than sex. He wouldn't kill you, not like he had done the others. Your essence was too familiar, and he could already see himself growing attached in the future. He liked you and intended to see you again.

“I hope you sleep well,” you told him, as you went to get out of the car.

“I will and I plan to see you soon, ma chérie,” he told you, watching as you got out of the car, tiredly walking to your front door. The amount of times and positions you had previously experienced didn't even seem humanly possible, leaving you feeling like an entirely new person.

Just as you shut the front door, your phone began ringing. Seeing Cara’s contact, you felt visibly agitated, rolling your eyes before accepting her call.

“Why weren't you answering the phone?” she asked immediately.

“I left it in his car, on accident”

“So, how did it go?” she asked. Thinking of Lestat’s words, you knew better than to share details, when she didn't even want you to go in the first place.

“I don't kiss and tell”

[satureja13]

After Skully opened the passage for them, Jeb, Saiwa and Jack were finally able to move on to the next cave, where Jihovere and her King just found each other.

Even though they were surprised to find Vlad here, they gave each other just a short heads up to see if everyone was ok. And Jack was finally facing his demon. The Crossroads Demon who took his heart after Greg made that stupid wish that went all wrong! Time to find out if he knows what happened the night Jack died! Vlad was worried about his best friend: "Do you really want to know? Ignorance is a blessing sometimes. What if this knowledge kicks you in a coma again or back into your madness? You know how devastated Luke was in 'The Empire strikes back' after he learned that Darth Vader is his father! We already know what killed you, hm?"

But Jack doesn't want to hear anything of this: "No. I want to know what happened. It's just a game and I know that, don't worry. We've come so far and I want a proper finale! And then we can all go back into our, you-know-what (the therapies) and I can live my best ingame life with Lou!" And to the Demon he said: "Can you tell me what happened?" The Demon: "I promised not to." Jack: "To whom?" The Demon: "To you." Jack: "Hereby I withdraw you from this promise." The Demon sighed: "I can show you." Jack: "Do it, then." The Demon took Jack's hands in his: "Come with me."

The Demon brought Jack's memories back - and Jack back to Goldshire. It's evening - right before he ran away. Jack is just returning early from harvesting grapes for his nectar. And he can't wait to spend this evening together with Lou. They wanted to make pizza!

But then he heard upset voices from Lou's bedroom! What's going on there? ö.Ö Jack took a look through the window. There is Lou and - Prince Caleb? Is he threatening Lou? Jack prepared to charge inside and beat the Prince up, when: Caleb: "Get rid of him. I can't stand knowing he's here with you when I can't be! Doing all the things with you I can't do!"

Caleb: "Him or me - your choice!" Lou: "Don't ask this of me, Caleb. You and me - a vampire and a werewolf - this is leading us nowhere anyway. You know how people think about us. We don't have a future. Jack and I do." What? ö.ö

Caleb: "We can have a future and we will be together. Even the Queen hides her lover." Lou: "This is not the life that I want. Always afraid someone might see us. Hiding in the shadows." Caleb: "Don't be like this. I will make you forget, hm?" Lou was melting: "Caleb..." Caleb: "I love you." Lou sighed: "I love you too." Lou and Caleb? Gods! Please ... no! (The signs were there, though. Caleb had been jealous when Lou hugged Jack before their fight and Caleb never touched his beautiful bride, Princess Jihovere. And Greg also had a hunch - or knew.) Poor Jack is trying to comprehend - but he's utterly failing. All hope of having a happy ingame life and healing - together with Lou is gone... And the Queen also has a lover?

Jack heard enough. That was when he ran to the stable and left Goldshire on Lunatic's back (and Valerian following behind them).

After Lunatic threw Jack off his back, Valerian and Lunatic thought he was dead, hid him behind the shrubbery and left, Jack had been unconscious for hours. And even though Lou had claimed he'd been searching for Jack right after he left, he didn't even notice Jack was gone, because he'd been busy with Caleb... So he'd been lieing to Jeb. To protect Caleb and their secret. Lou only noticed hours later that Jack was gone - when picking up Jack's scent had already been impossible. When Jack regained consciousness, the pain hit him with full force and he'd been crying for hours - until a certain Crossroads Demon came along. On his way to fulfill that wish a certain werewolf made...

And even though the Demon's duty drove him to Caleb and Lou, to change their hearts so Prince Caleb can marry Princess Jihovere and Greg and the Queen can return back home, he couldn't help himself but being drawn towards the crying, heartbroken Wolf... The conscientious, dutiful Demon had only ever cared about his tasks - never about other beings - crying or not. But this Wolf stirred something in him he'd never allowed - himself or anyone else - getting stirred with. And so he found himself asking: "Why are you crying?" Jack told the Demon what he'd seen and what it had done to him. The Demon was glad he could tell this intriguing, beautiful Wolf not to worry any longer. Soon Caleb would change his heart and marry the Princess and Lou would be free for Jack and they could be happy together! Yes, the Demon would even suppress his own heart's desire - taking the Wolf for himself - just to see him happy. Which was frightening him, these are feelings he never experienced - nor allowed - before. But when he touched the Man before him, felt his firm muscles beneath his caring hands - he knew he was damned. (And that means something for a demon!)

Jack looked at the Demon: "Really?" That would be too good to be true! But what would this do with him? What would that mean for his therapy and healing process? Could he really be happy after he destroyed Lou and Caleb's relationship? Knowing Lou's heart - even if changed by the Demon - was beating for Caleb? And Caleb would marry Jihovere then. He can't let them do this - it would break Vlad's heart. Even though this is just a game. It's not on him to change their therapies and the lives of the NPCs. Yes, he's aware that Lou and Caleb are just mere NPCs. But his feelings for Lou are real. He can't do this to him. Jack: "No. I can't allow this." The Demon: "We have no choice in this. I got paid and I have to fulfill the wish."

Jack: "What if I pay you more and make another wish?" The Demon wanted to take the pain off this man so bad, even if that meant he'd be lost for him: "Why would you do this? You want Lou!" Jack: "I could never be happy with Lou after I destroyed his relationship. I will give you whatever I have." The Demon: "But I'm supposed to change hearts! Do you even know what you're offering?" Jack: "Take my heart then. I don't need it anymore. There is no love for me in this life."

The Demon wanted to tell the Wolf he'd care for him and that he would love him and make his heart whole again, make him forget the pain that Lou caused him. But he knows that this was impossible. He was chained to the crossroads and could never give this beautiful Man what he needed. But he also wouldn't allow that Jack hurts from the decision he made so selflessly. And so the Demon said: "Agreed. But I will also take your memories from the moment you saw them with me, so you don't suffer. That's the least I can offer you." The sadness of their trade and the admiration for the selfless Man before him made the Demon wanting to change his demonic ways. Would that even be possible? Breaking the chains that bind him to the crossroads? The Demon's horse broke the spell: 'We need to leave and nullify the wish!'

And so the Demon took Jack's heart - and memories and left. A little later Jack logged in and thought he was dead. And shortly after, Greg came along, picked him up (left some pawprints behind and dug over the bloodstain) and brought him to Saarburg. Where he ordered his apprentice, Jeb, to find the ruby to make a new heart for Jack to revive him...

What Jack didn't know - the Demon lost his heart too. There had to be two hearts to be changed anyway.

'… On a hot summer night, would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses? Will he offer me his mouth? Yes

… Will he offer me his teeth? Yes Will he offer me his jaws? Yes Will he offer me his hunger? Yes

… Again, will he offer me his hunger? Yes And will he starve without me? Yes And does he love me? Yes Yes

… On a hot summer night, would you offer your Throat to the wolf with the red roses? Yes I bet you say that to all the boys...'

You took the words right out of my mouth - Meat Loaf

I told Jack to 'Debate treachery of vampires' - and he took the words right out of Kiyoshi's mouth...

The Therapy Game Master Post with the sessions and places so far is -> here

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: 'Who killed Jack?' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[luddlestons]

For the WIP game: Ashrym and Essek Stuff 4! I've been reading your ashrym oneshots all morning!

thanks for reading!! these guys have been keeping me going right now lol

Ashrym won't let me be

This was supposed to be #4 in my oneshot series, but then the lava arm made my brain go wild. it takes place during the night they stayed in Whitestone, fearne is out going on adventures with the girls, and Orym sneaks into Ashton's bed bc he's cold and he needs snuggles so. much!

---

The giant fluffy duvet moved just a bit as Orym pulled it back and clambered up onto the bed, still moving slowly. What, had he been thinking Ashton just wouldn’t wake up to somebody getting into their bed? 

Orym was chilly, like he’d been wandering the halls for a while, his cold little halfling feet pressing up against Ashton’s thigh as he worked his way under the blankets, pulling them up past his chin, and letting himself settle against Ashton’s side. 

They let him think they were asleep just a little bit longer. Just to see what he’d do. 

The answer to that was a whole lot of nothing. If Ashton hadn’t moved, Orym might’ve just gone to sleep right there, and that was fucking weird. 

Whatever. The direct approach always worked better for Ashton, anyway. 

They slung their arm over Orym, pulling him close enough that his hair was tickling their chin. “If you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve brought Fearne with you.”

Essek Stuff 4: Kingsley/Caleb time

Essek is not actually in this for most of it, the title is just that bc it's following what I named all the fics in my Two Wizards and a Sailor series. Caleb takes Kingsley on a date to the dance hall in Rexxentrum <3

---

“Is it considered rude that I’ve only been dancing with you, then?” Kingsley asked. 

“Nein.” Caleb set down his empty glass and put his arm on the back of Kingsley’s chair. “It’s a social dance, but people do whatever they want. You might be inspiring jealousy, though.” 

“Of course I am, you’re obviously very good at this,” Kingsley said, his tail settling over Caleb’s lap. “I’m surprised nobody’s come over to ask you for the next one.”

Caleb laughed. “That’s not the direction I was picturing the jealous thoughts to go. And anyway, we’re sitting here taking a break. It’s unlikely somebody would approach us. But if you’d like to dance with somebody else, please do.” 

“And that wouldn’t make you jealous?”

“No, it would not.” Caleb’s fingers traced along Kingsley’s tail, all the way to the spade at the end, which he held gently between his thumb and forefinger, reminding Kingsley how sensitive it was. “Because I am the one who will take you home tonight. Dance with whoever you like—it is not their bed you will find yourself in.” 

Kingsley let out a slow breath, his hand following his tail into Caleb’s lap, so he could squeeze his thigh. “I’m very tempted to ask you to take me home now, after that.”

(WIP game)

[sapphoschoices]

Thin Ice

Book: High School Story

Characters: Jonah Leighton (HSS MC), Caleb Mitchell (very minor: Maria Flores, Aiden Zhou)

Relationships: M!HSS MC x Caleb Mitchell (romantic)

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 765

Summary: Jonah and Caleb go ice skating together, it's a shame neither knows what they're doing though.

Warnings: Brief mention of decapitation (don't question it, the characters are just joking)

“You can't ice skate?” Jonah asked Caleb with his mouth hung open. “You invited me here and you can't even skate!”

“I wanted to impress you. I was trying to learn.” Caleb attempted to explain, while covering his face in shame. “My brother isn't a very good teacher though.”

Jonah sighed, but began to cackle a few moments later. “We're so screwed. I can't skate either.” Caleb looked up with a look in his eyes which could only be described as pure horror. “I guess we'll have to learn together.”

“Fine, but only because Ezra's going back to college in two days, I can't handle persistent bullying any longer than that.”

Jonah rolled his eyes with a smile on his face. “Don't be a drama queen, let me tie your laces.” He reached down to lift Caleb's foot onto the bench.

Caleb stands up first, wobbling on his ice skates, before reaching a hand out for Jonah, who wobbles just as much. “Are you excited?”

“Absolutely not, walking like this is like hell on my poor, poor ankles.” Jonah wailed dramatically, seconds away from pretending to faint before Caleb began stumbling towards the ice rink, dragging Jonah along with him.

Jonah ended up having to almost catch Caleb as soon as he stepped foot on the ice, which was easier said than done, considering he very nearly brought Jonah down with him.

“Let's maybe avoid falling on each other while we have knives on our feet, okay?” Jonah giggled, gripping the wall of the ice rink while helping Caleb stand back up.

“I think we should stick to the wall for now.” Caleb took a deep breath and switched his grip on Jonah's arms to grip the wall just as strongly. “One step at a time.”

“I don't think you're supposed to step with these.” Jonah kept his eyes on his feet as he scooted one forward, only for him to massively glide off-course and have to catch himself on Caleb.

It was a good job they'd chosen to come at a less busy time, the only people on the rink yet were a few others with the same idea of coming at a less busy time, as well as some more experienced skaters here to practise, and we're too engrossed in their own business. Less people to embarrass themselves in front of.

“Maria said they'd all be here at eight. We have half an hour to get this nailed down.” Caleb nodded to himself, interlocking his and Jonah's arms. “Let's try it like a three-legged race.”

The two began to attempt to move in sync, routinely having to pull the other back on course, but they lasted long enough, before Caleb slid out of control, landing flat on his back and dragging Jonah along with him.

“Oof.” Caleb groaned, as he gently shoved Jonah off his chest. “That winded me.”

Jonah sat up beside Caleb, who was still laying with his head back. “Do you think we can just sit here until everyone else gets here?”

“Not unless you want someone to speed over and decapitate me with their knife-shoes.” He reached out for Jonah's hand but made no move to stand up.

“If I wanted you decapitated with an ice skate, I could do it myself.” Jonah punctuated his sentence with a kiss to Caleb's palm. “Now get up, this ice is cold as hell.”

“Fine, but only if you kiss me again.” Caleb insisted with a smile, as the two stood up together once again, shaking on their way. Once they were comfortably stable again, Jonah pressed a soft kiss to Caleb's cheek, before kissing him more deeply on the mouth.

“Ahem,” someone coughed from behind Caleb. The pair took a look over his shoulder to see Maria with her eyebrow raised, along with their gaggle of friends standing behind her, all behind the half-wall of the ice rink.

“That was so painful to watch.” Aiden groaned, clearly finding it difficult to even look at the pair in shame. “I got here early, too, you two owe me an apology.”

“Like you can skate any better. Anyone in band knows you have zero physical rhythm.” Jonah retorted, leaning against the wall.”

“Just because I can't dance doesn't mean I can't skate.” Aiden rolled his eyes. “It's just like walking.”

“That's what I said!” Caleb yelped indignantly at Jonah. “And you disagreed.”

“Well now I disagree with both of you.” Jonah grinned, but reached for Caleb's hand once again, just for good measure. “You know I love you, though. Aiden, not so much.”

[azure-blaze92]

How did you feel about how Hunter ended up? Alot of people say he became Caleb 2.0 and not his own person so in a dark way Belos got what he wanted (their words not mine).

Hello Anon ~ and thank you for the ask ^_^

So, this is an interesting question. I do see where people think he is just Caleb 2.0, and I think he is a bit as well. but I boil that down to the writing, the show being cut short along with some design choices.

I feel like we should not have gotten a time skip. If you need to, then at least a year, not four) so when we last left Hunter in FtF in two days, he was possessed by Belos, lost his first best friend, died, and was brought back to life by Flapjack, and watched Luz get her own Palisman. Then we time skip to four years later, and he sort of looks like Caleb has a bird palisman like Caleb( Hunter should have gotten a wolf Palisman instead of a bird, just saying ) and became a Palisman carver like Caleb ( I don't remember if it was confirmed in canon not That Caleb became a palisman carver when was living in the BI or Caleb just liked carving)

It seemed sort of shoehorned in, like when did Hunter express an interest in Carving Palisman or wood carving in general until he said the line in TtT?

Here is a scenario where Hutner becoming A Palisman carver could work if the show didn't get canceled: After some time, Hunter finally feels like he is ready to have a Palisman for himself again after the loss of Flapjack, so Eda like she did with Luz, gives him a piece of Palistrom wood and shows him how to carve, he eventually makes Waffles, and she comes to life, and Hunter loved that feeling so much, that he wanted other witches to feel the same thing as he did and then states he wants to become a Palisman carver. And boom, you now have a coherent and sensical reason for Hunter to become a Palisman carver that has nothing to do with Caleb or completely comes out of nowhere.

now let's get to design. Okay, Hunter getting Flapjack's eye color really bothered the crap out of me like a lot.

One of Hunter's character arcs is his coming to terms with his identity as a grim walker. Think about it. In a single night, Hunter learned his entire life for the past 16 years was a lie, he was a clone and that Belos killed all the other Golden Guards. Then, we have this scene here after they have been in the Human Realm for several months.

this shows that Hunter was coming to terms with his identity as a grim walker, and coming into his own person, allowing himself to be who he wanted to be.

Then we have his death and Flapjack's sacrifice. All they had to change was have Hunter have one brown eye and one magenta eye, still keeping the signature Grimwalker trait, but also showing Flapjack is a part of him. It would have added so much to his character, and we wouldn't get him looking like Caleb 2.0

Yet again, if the show had been given more time to explore and develop this character arc and we got to see his character progression of him embracing the fact he is a Grimwalker, coming to terms with he is a clone of Caleb, but accepting and learning that although he is a clone, he can be his own person and not the tool and person, who Belos/Philip made and wanted him to be. Hunter can be Hunter. I feel like fans wouldn't call him Caleb 2.0 if they did that.

[weirdestbooks]

Secrecy and Deception Chapter 5

Sinews of Peace (Wattpad | Ao3)

Table of Contents | Prev | Next

Event: Iron Curtain Speech

Location: Westminster College, Fulton, State of Missouri, United States of America

Date: March 5, 1946

It was odd to see the former British Prime Minister giving a speech at an American college while standing by the President of the United States. But there was Winston Churchill, up on a stage with President Truman, Caleb, and, unbeknownst to him, DC.

DC was keeping herself disguised, just like Missouri was. While they had been less of a secret when Missouri’s father was still new at the whole “being a country” thing, they now didn’t talk about their existence that much, mainly because none of them wanted to deal with other countries, although everyone did have their own reasons. 

Missouri brought my focus to the stage, where Winston Churchill was preparing to speak. Missouri just hoped he didn’t go on for too long, as Missouri didn’t think he could keep his focus for that long.

Churchill started by saying how glad he was to come to Westminster College and how he was familiar with the school's name, as there was a Westminster in England. He then explains how it is an honor for him, a private visitor, to be introduced to an academic audience by the president of the United States.

Missouri smiled at the last sentence, which echoed his thoughts on this experience. It was certainly not a common occurrence.

Churchill then explained that, among his duties and responsibilities, the President traveled to the College to magnify what Churchill had to say and allow him to address a kindred nation and anyone in Britain who would hear the speech.

Missouri wouldn’t call his family, and Britain kindred nations. He didn’t think they were anywhere near close enough to be called that, but maybe that was because they were still learning to get along. Caleb also turned his head slightly to face Winston Churchill as he said that, possibly just as confused as Missouri. Missouri sighed. At least their nations were better friends now and not trying to go to war anymore.

Churchill then explains that it was the president’s wish that he had full liberty to give his counsel to the people because of the times. He talks about how he’s doing this because his ambitions in his younger days have been satisfied; therefore, he was not speaking for any mission but only for himself.

Well, typically, when someone says that, there is a chance that they are lying. Missouri pushed that thought aside. Even if Mr. Churchill had ulterior motives, Missouri would still listen to what he said, especially because of how tense things seemed to be getting. It made sense. Even if Churchill wasn’t in power, he was still an incredibly important person.

The best way to determine where you need to stand is to figure out where everyone else is and what that means for their beliefs and goals.

Churchill then began talking about how he could use his experience to review the problems their victory brought them and ensure the good they did would be preserved.

The experience of a lifetime? That was funny. Maybe it was just because Missouri was way older than Churchill, but that line was very amusing to him. Churchill had the experience of a lifetime, but Missouri has had the experience of several, and his father has had even more than him.

“The United States stands at this time at the pinnacle of world power.”

They had. They were a world power now. Dad and the others had been getting increasingly stressed because of it, and some of the Thirteen had been making remarks about how if they had told Britain about it during the Revolution, he would have never believed them.

Still, despite the jokes at Britain’s expense, everyone was starting to feel the stress of the fact that they were a world power—the world power. All eyes were on them, for better and for worse. Missouri’s siblings and he might be unable to stay secret for much longer, which was incredibly stressful for some of them.

They were at the pinnacle of world power. And Missouri hated it.

Churchill then states that it is a solemn moment for American Democracy because its strength as a world power also gave it accountability for the future and that anxiety must be felt unless it falls below the level of achievement.

Churchill was right about that. They now had more duties and responsibilities and a very high bar to reach. If they failed at what was required of them…well, Missouri didn’t want to think about it. Think about the possibility of another world war. Missouri was glad he didn’t have to deal with international affairs like his father, but that didn’t mean the affairs Missouri had to deal with were any easier.

Churchill then began discussing how the opportunity was there for both of their countries and that to reject, ignore, or fritter it away would end poorly. Churchill explained how the UK and the USA must guide and rule the conduct of the English-speaking peoples in peace as they did in the war and how he believed both nations were up to the task.

Missouri knew they needed to prove themselves equal to their requirements, but why only English-speaking people? Louisiana preferred her French, just as Pennsylvania did her German, although they were just in a war with Germany. Hawaii preferred her language, however illegal it was; New York preferred Dutch, and Delaware preferred Swedish sometimes. Hell, even Missouri would speak French from time to time.

The US isn’t just English-speaking people, and Missouri didn’t like that that was all Mr. Churchill saw when looking at them. Caleb looked annoyed, which probably meant he would ensure Missouri’s father never spoke English to Mr. Churchill again. Sure, English was this nation’s most preferred and widely spoken language, but it wasn’t the only one.

Churchill then began to discuss how, when the American military encountered a serious situation, they wrote “Overall Strategic Concept” at the head of their directives. Churchill explained that that was wise and asked what overall strategic concept should be inscribed today. The concept, Churchill believes, should be nothing less than the safety, welfare, freedom, and progress of every family in every country.

Missouri smiled. That would be a great world to live in. It was a seemingly impossible goal, though, which meant it was the perfect one for Dad to try and achieve. He took the word impossible as a challenge. If anyone would try everything they could to achieve that world, it was Missouri’s father.

Churchill then clarifies that he speaks mainly of the cottage and apartment homes where wage-earners strive to guard their families against privation and raise their families in fear of God or upon ethical conceptions. Churchill explains that to secure those homes, they must be shielded from the marauders of war and tyranny.

War and tyranny. Problems created by humanity’s want for power and resolved by humanity’s desire for peace. These two things will most likely always exist, no matter how much effort is put into stopping them. Missouri and his family can defend people from it, but the only way to destroy tyranny is through war. Missouri sighed. 

Power and Peace. Humanity’s greatest desires. 

Churchill then explained how they all know the disturbances of war that cause the breadwinner of a family to leave and hurt those the breadwinner provides for. Churchill explains how the ruin in Europe and Asia are prominent examples of what happens when wicked men or aggressive states dissolve the frame of civilized society and humble folk are confronted with difficulties they cannot cope with. For those people, Churchill says, all is distorted.

Missouri sighed tiredly at that. Europe suffers so much from destruction. Wars don’t usually happen on Missouri and his family’s land, as they were too far away from most conflicts. But when it does occur here, it happens in the territories, and Missouri never sees it. The Civil War was the last time their country was destroyed by war the way Europe was. 

Maybe they could help. Rebuilding a nation from almost nothing was a very hard thing to do. And that’s what most of Europe, and some of Asia, probably, had to do.

Churchill then explained that it scared him to visualize what was happening to those millions of people and what would happen when famine began. Churchill then explained that no one could understand the sum of human pain the war caused, that their supreme duty was to guard the common people against the pain of another war, and that they all agreed on that.

Missouri nodded. They definitely agreed with that. Missouri doesn’t want another world war, not after the first two. The wars have changed everything, and not in a good way. Even with the war over, the suffering was not. The suffering would probably never be over for some.

Churchill then began talking about how once the overall strategic concept is established and available resources computed, they must move onto the method, something which Churchill claims also has widespread agreement, and brings up the newly created UNO, the son of the League of Nations, who had already been put to work to establish peace.

UNO, United Nations Organization, or UN, as everyone called him. Dad described him as hopeful, stubborn, demanding, but also naïve because he thinks he can get the other countries to agree on peace. North Dakota said that it reminded him of Dad in a way that caused Dad to become very embarrassed and offended. 

North Dakota wasn’t entirely wrong. What UN is trying to do with the countries Dad does with the states, although with much more success than UN. Still, having someone who is trying to get the countries to get along is better than having no one.

Churchill then explained that they must ensure that the UN’s work is fruitful, that its help is a reality, that it takes action, and that it will be a temple of peace. Churchill clarifies that before they can give away the national armaments for self-defense, they must ensure that the UN is built on a stable foundation, rock, not sand.

Missouri nodded. They definitely had to ensure that the peace sticks this time and doesn’t end up falling apart. However, if Missouri continued with the analogy, his father was good at building things on sand and then going back and making the sand rock.

Not that it was a good idea.

Churchill then explained that anyone could see that the path ahead was complex and lengthy, but he reassured them that persevering together, as they did during the wars, would ensure they reached their common goal.

Yes, Missouri hoped things would not turn out like they did between the world wars. The Great Depression, organized crime, and the eventual war were on the horizon in the interwar period. He hoped this postwar world would actually lead to more peace and not another world war. Missouri didn’t think Europe could survive that.

Or his father’s patience with Europe. If another world war broke out there, his father would probably just decide to drop nukes on the whole continent to get them to calm down.

Churchill then explained that he had a proposal to allow for action and said that the UN must have an international armed force. He then explained that to do this, they have to go step by step and start now and proposed that all countries should be invited to dedicate a certain amount of air squadrons to the UN, which would not be used against their nation but be directed by the UN. Churchill explained that while it would start on a modest scale, it would soon grow as confidence in it grew.

Missouri nodded in agreement. He had seen several times what happens when you make a law that no one will enforce. Giving the UN his police force would allow him to enforce peace better. The League of Nations couldn’t ensure peace. Maybe if the UN had enforcement methods at its disposal, it could. 

Provided they don’t get used for the opposite means.

Churchill then explained that it would be wrong to tell UN the knowledge of the atomic bomb while he was still young. He explained that it was madness to tell an agitated world of that knowledge, and people still sleep safely knowing it exists because the knowledge was still in America's hands. 

Missouri knew his father would never give up the secrets of the atomic bomb willingly unless he had been convinced it was for a good reason. It was a mighty weapon, and giving it to his enemies would be terrifying. Besides, Missouri didn’t think the UN should be given that knowledge. World peace shouldn’t require the destruction of anything but tyranny, which can be destroyed without the power of the atomic bomb. Besides, if the UN had that information, it would be easier for a tyrant to get their hands on it.

It’s best to keep that secrecy under lock and key in the hands of responsible defenders of democracy.

Churchill then says that no one would have slept soundly if any communist or neo-fascist state had monopolized the bomb and explains that the fear of those nations using them might have enforced totalitarian systems everywhere in the free democratic world, something with appalling consequences.

Missouri shuddered as he thought of what could have happened if Germany had gotten his hands on the bomb. That would have spelled disaster for every ally they had. If he had used that weapon to take out the rest of Europe…so many more would have died. And Poland, and Uncle Free State, and all those nations who had recently gained independence would have had it stripped from them once more. 

Missouri didn’t think Uncle Free State would have been able to handle that.

Churchill then explained that God had willed that not to happen and had given the Allies breathing room to get things in order before any future conflict. Churchill also explained that the bomb is an effective deterrent against future conflict, and when the UN is grown and completed, the bomb could be given to him.

Missouri hoped they could prevent more use of the bomb. It’s a powerful weapon but an awful one. It’s better to ensure that it isn't a weapon commonly used but a weapon of last resort. The everyday use of that weapon would kill them all.

Churchill then explains the second danger of war threatening ordinary people: tyranny. No one can be blind to the fact that the liberties enjoyed by the citizens of the British Empire don’t exist in many countries.

“And aren’t given to everyone in your empire,” Missouri muttered. His dad, uncle, and many others weren’t given the same liberties as the English. However, Missouri supposed he was a little hypocritical, as many people in his state and throughout the Union weren’t given the same rights as others.

Though they had more than some, and that was better than nothing.

Churchill explained that in countries like that, police governments enforce control that overwhelms and is contrary to every principle of democracy. He explains that these states show no restraint of power, and dictators or oligarchies command all power.

At least the people with fewer liberties here could protest and do something about it. In those governments, a want for change was a death wish. That’s how they could do so much damage in a short period of time. Missouri thought back to what had happened during the war. What dictators could do was awful. He could get better, but it could only get worse for some.

Churchill then explained that it was not their duty at this time to interfere in the affairs of countries that had not been conquered in war but that they must never cease proclaiming the principles of freedom and human rights. Churchill then explained that those were the joint inheritance of the English-speaking world and that the Magna Carta, the Bill of Rights, the Habeas Corpus, trial by jury, and the English Common Law find their most famous expression in the American Declaration of Independence.”

A British man talking about how the Declaration of Independence was necessary and great. Missouri held back a laugh but was not able to hold back giggles. Caleb also looked incredibly amused by that. Britain would probably get a call from Caleb or Missouri’s father laughing about this.

Missouri hoped he would be allowed to listen in on the call.

Churchill then explained that that meant the people of all countries have the right and should have the powers of constitutional action, have free elections with anonymous ballots, the ability to change their government, freedom of speech and thought, unbiased courts and executives that enforce fair laws. Churchill explains that those deeds of freedom should be in every home and that it was the message of British and American peoples to mankind.

Missouri didn’t think his dad and Britain were the only countries doing that, but regardless, it would definitely benefit many people if all countries did that. Obviously, not all of them would, but if the majority did, it would still be better than the minority being the only ones to have those rights.

Churchill then explained that although poverty and deprivation caused much of the prevailing anxiety, without the dangers of war and tyranny, science and cooperation could expand material well-being beyond anything that had yet to occur in the human experience.

Missouri sighed. That’s hopeful, but war and tyranny can never be defeated. They can be prevented, and they can be small, but they are there. Science and cooperation might become more widespread, but they will not replace war and tyranny because they cannot be removed from the world.

Churchill then spoke about the world's hunger and distress caused by the war but explained that it would pass quickly, as only human folly or subhuman crime would deny nations the enjoyment of an age of plenty. Churchill then explained that a friend of his once said that the earth would provide for everyone if they had justice and peace, and Churchill said that he agreed with that sentiment.

Sure, the world has enough, but that’s not enough for some people. And that’s why some are left with nothing. The world provides, but the people don’t sometimes. People like to hoard things they don’t need. Or they just don’t care enough to help. Missouri knew that well. 

Churchill then said that he had come to the crux of his message, which was that neither the prevention of war nor the rise of world organizations could be achieved without the “fraternal association of the English-speaking peoples” and that there should be a special relationship between the British Commonwealth and the USA.

So Mr. Churchill wants Missouri’s father to fix his relationship not only with Britain, which he’s started doing, but with his siblings as well? That’s easier said than done. His father had a lot of them, siblings, that is, but he hadn’t even met half of them. 

Churchill then said that he wanted to be precise and that fraternal association requires growing friendship, mutual understanding, and an intimate relationship between their militaries to share weapons and information and study dangers. Churchill said that the joint-use facilities should continue to be used to double the mobility of American forces and expand the forces of the British Empire. They would also be good for financial savings due to the large number of islands in the hands of the British and Americans.

It was weird to Missouri that they were working so well with the British and administering land alongside them. They almost went to war the last time they did that with the Oregon territory. However, the Commonwealth was still a crucial military ally, so cooperation with them would be beneficial.

God, this was so weird. His dad’s younger self would be shocked by this.

Churchill explained how the US had a Permanent Defense Agreement with Canada, which Churchill described as “devotedly attached to the British Commonwealth and Empire.”

Missouri snorted. That was an understatement. Based on what he had heard from some other British colonies and Commonwealth members, Canada would do anything to stay in Britain’s favor, including turning on his family and going against his morals.

Churchill then explained that the agreement was more effective than formal alliances and should extend to the British Commonwealth. That way, the Commonwealth and the USA can work together, support themselves, and do no harm to any member. Churchill then explains that the principle of common citizenship could come up, but that can be left to destiny.

Yeah, Mr. Churchill is definitely trying to get Missouri’s family to fix their relationship with the rest of Britain’s family. Missouri looked at Caleb, who looked both amused and…Missouri couldn’t really identify the other emotion on his face, but it was the funniest face he had ever seen Caleb make.

Churchill then mentions an important question about the nature of a special relationship between the USA and the British Commonwealth: whether it would be inconsistent with their loyalties to the UN. Churchill says it is not, and the special relationship would be the only reason the UN will succeed.

He’s right about that. The UN will only survive if most countries that are part of the UN can get along. Since Britain is a whore, if Missouri’s father can get along with his siblings, it would be better for the UN.

However, his siblings are siblings and do not get along, especially the ones estranged from time and war.

Churchill then discusses the USA’s unique relations with Canada and its relations with the nations of South America. He also discusses the British treaty with the USSR, which Churchill is convinced will last fifty years, before ending by saying that the UK aims at nothing but mutual assistance and collaboration.

Well, Britain may get along with Soviet, but after Mr. Kennan’s telegram, Missouri didn’t think his father and Soviet would get along for much longer. And if Britain wanted to remain their ally, if they really had this so-called “special relationship,” then they might abandon that Twenty-Year Treaty that they think will last fifty years.

Churchill then discussed the British's unbroken alliance with Portugal since 1384, causing Missouri to snort in amusement. Everyone and their mother knew that the alliance had been formed because England and the late Kingdom of Portugal had been madly in love and didn’t want to ever go to war because of their love.

Churchill then explained that alliances did not clash with the idea of world peace or the UN and that they would actually help it, so long as their design was not incompatible with the UN Charter.

International cooperation outside of the UN will be essential in ensuring the UN's survival. Hopefully, that means some countries will be willing to let go of useless grudges for the sake of peace.

Oh, what was Missouri saying? Who the hell was going to do that?

Churchill then brought up the analogy of the Temple of Peace and how people from all countries must work together to build it. If the people were already close and shared tools, then the temple would be built quickly. Churchill emphasizes that this is necessary to prevent the temple from collapsing and war from resuming.

He has a point. If allied countries work together to ensure peace through the UN and other means, they would have a much easier time doing so. Hopefully, in the process, they would prevent World War 3, something Missouri was sure nobody wanted.

Anyone who wants World War 3 was an insane fool or a power-hungry maniac. 

Churchill then explains that the blessing science gives humanity could later lead to its destruction. He warns that time may be short and that events shouldn’t be allowed to drift along until it’s too late. Churchill then explains that if there is a fraternal association of the kind he has described, it should be known to the world and ensure that it helps bring peace, as prevention is better than a cure.

Churchill was right about that. Missouri didn’t think there was a cure for humanity's desire for power and other factors contributing to wars. Military support, international cooperation, and preventing the spread of greedy powers were the best ways to stop any future war.

Churchill then discussed how a shadow had fallen on the Allied victory in the form of the Soviet Union and its Communist international organization’s goals for the future and its expansive and proselytizing tendencies. Churchill then clarified that he strongly admired the Russians and Stalin, that there was sympathy and goodwill from Britain to establish lasting friendships, and that they understood that the Russians needed to be secure on their western front by removing all the Germans there. Churchill then said they welcomed Russia to its spot among the leading nations and wished for peace between Russia and the rest of the world.

Missouri’s father wanted to preserve his relationship with Soviet, and so did Missouri. He understood what Churchill was saying, but still, after Mr. Kennan’s telegram, Missouri feared that things might not go the way Mr. Churchill hoped. After all, with what was happening in Iran, Missouri just didn’t know if a lasting friendship with Soviet was possible.

Churchill then said he would explain the facts about the current situation in Europe without his opinion. He explained that an iron curtain had fallen across Europe, separating Western Europe from Central and Eastern Europe. That region lay in the Soviet sphere, subjected to Soviet influence and control.

Missouri’s father and Britain allowed for Soviet to have influence over those states, not because they liked it but because it was the best opinion for peace. Mr. Churchill knows this. Still, Missouri understood what he was saying. Soviet had already illegally annexed the Baltic states, and it was possible that he would annex the states he was allowed to influence. 

Hopefully, that wouldn’t happen, but if there were anything countries and states like Missouri knew well, it would be that you can’t fully trust anyone.

It was too risky.

Churchill then discussed how Greece could decide its future through an election under British, French, and American observation. In contrast, a Russian-dominated Polish government was encouraged to mass-expulse Germans and commit crimes against Germany.

Missouri sighed. The new Poland was rumored to be a puppet of the USSR, but no one could confirm anything with the chaos of the post-war world. But if the new Poland was a puppet, he had possibly one of the worst starts to life a nation could have.

Churchill talks about how the small communist parties in those states had been put into power and given power beyond their numbers and that they now seek totalitarian control. He describes them as police governments and claims that only Czechoslovakia has a true democracy.

Missouri hoped Czechoslovakia was okay. The other countries under the Soviet Union’s influence had been forced to do a lot because of him, and he hoped Czechoslovakia would escape that fate.

Missouri hated how they had given Soviet influence over other countries, especially Poland—both the new Poland and the old one, the government-in-exile who remained in London.

Churchill then talked about how Turkey and Persia were both alarmed by the claims and pressure on them from the Soviet Union and how the Russians in their part of Germany were attempting to create a Communist Party there. Churchill also explained that when the Americans and British withdrew per their agreement, the Russians occupied this land that the Western Democracies had conquered.

Persia—Iran—whatever you called him, he was in the midst of a fight that was being caused, to an extent, by Soviet. Soviet refused to withdraw like his father and Britain and was now supporting rebel groups in Iran’s land. And they had withdrawn troops to give Soviet the influence he wanted, which now seemed to be backfiring on them.

Churchill then explains that if the USSR tried to build a pro-Communist Germany in their area, it would cause problems in the American and British zones and force the Germans to choose between the USSR and the Western Democracies. Churchill then says that regardless of what conclusions you draw from the facts, Europe as it stands now was not the one they fought to build, and it did not contain the essentials of permanent peace.

Missouri sighed. He’s right about that. Soviet still occupied the Baltics, and all the countries he was allowed influence over weren’t actually liberated because they weren’t actually completely free. Missouri understood why his dad and Britain did what they did, but he wished a better route could have been an option. However, everyone had their interests, and compromise was necessary to ensure everyone got at least some of what they wanted.

Churchill then began talking about how the world's safety rested on unity in Europe because Europe started the world wars. He said that because of Europe’s division, the United States keeps getting unwillingly dragged into conflict and sending men to die because war can find any nation. 

Yeah, we had to send our people to help save your European asses because, apparently, neutrality doesn’t mean anything to anyone. Missouri thought irritably. Neutrality violations are how they’ve gotten involved in three different wars. If it pulled them into another, Missouri was going to beat the definition of neutrality into the head of whoever attacked them. 

Churchill then explained that he thought they needed to work with a purpose to pacify Europe within the structure of the UN and its charter. He feels that the cause of policy of great importance, and even in front of the Iron Curtain, are causes for anxiety, like Marshal Tito’s claims to former Italian territory and the Italian Communist Party’s support of that, which has led to Italy’s fate hanging in the balance.

Poor Italy. The kid hasn’t had it very easy, especially since he has the duty of cleaning up his son’s mistakes. The country that replaced Japan would have to do similar things: clean up their mother’s mess. Although, with Germany dead, the new Germany would have it the easiest since they would be the child of either Soviet, France, Britain, or Missouri’s father—maybe more than one.

Whatever the case, a least they won’t be related to the Germany that started World War Two.

 Churchill then explained how a regenerated Europe needed a strong France, something he worked for and believed in.

World War Two seemed to have effectively made countries that were formally enemies or rivals close. But Missouri guessed that’s what happens when you are in a global conflict for power. Missouri knew that Britain and France had almost united into the same country in 1940, which was a surprise to everyone and something his father had fun reminding them of.

Churchill then explains that in many countries, communist parties have been established in unity and with absolute obedience to directions from the Communist Center. Aside from the UK and the US, where communism was in its infancy, the communist parties presented a growing challenge to Christian civilization. Churchill said that although there were somber facts to follow such a unified victory, they needed to face those facts squarely while the time remained.

Political party problems—that would be fun to deal with. However, it’s not like they, and by they, Missouri means his dad and his siblings can ban communism. With the First Amendment, all that will do is make people very mad. 

Churchill explains the anxious outlook in the Far East and Manchuria and how the Yalta Agreement was incredibly favorable towards the Soviet Union because they didn’t know when the war would end. Churchill then points out that the Americans were friends with China and didn’t need that situation explained. 

Yeah, Missouri and his family were aware of the influence Soviet had been granted and China’s anxiety over Soviet supporting the communist party she was fighting against. His father was also worried about that but couldn’t do much, having promised Soviet the influence and being busy dealing with Japan.

Churchill explains how he felt bound to portray the shadow that fell upon the world. He also describes his time at the Versiallies Treaty and how, at that treaty, the people had hope, which they lacked now after World War Two.

Of course, we don’t have the same hopes. Missouri thought They thought things would get better, and then this happened. The war, the concerns with Soviet, everything. It didn’t seem like peace would be achievable soon if the worries about Soviet proved legitimate.

Churchill then explained that he hated the idea that a new war was inevitable or imminent because he believed their fortunes were still in their hands and they had the power to save the future. He also explains that he doesn’t think the Soviet Union wants war but rather the fruits of war and the indefinite expansion of their power and doctrines.

Missouri hoped Soviet didn’t want war. It’s not what the world needs. But Soviet wanting the fruits of war? That was believable and probably true, from what Missouri had heard from Virginia, DC, and Dad about the conferences. Soviet had many demands and therefore, many goals.

Churchill then explained that today, they had to consider the permanent prevention of war and the establishment of freedom and democracy in all countries. He said that difficulties and dangers would not be removed by ignoring them or through a policy of appeasement and that the quicker a settlement came, the sooner the danger would pass. 

Yeah, appeasement really hasn’t worked out at all, and continuing to do it seems like a very stupid thing to do. They couldn’t give Soviet whatever he wanted. Missouri and his family had to stand their ground and tell him to fuck off when he tried to encroach where he didn’t belong. Otherwise, he would get too comfortable walking over them.

Churchill then explained that the Russians admired strength and had no respect for weakness, especially military weakness.

Soviet did admire strength. Alaska could tell; he said Soviet seemed too much like their father, and Missouri’s father agreed. Missouri had heard his father talking to the Thirteen once. He didn’t think Dad expected him to overhear, but Missouri did. His father had said Mr. Kennan’s telegram concerned him, and Soviet seemed almost amused by his injury. 

Churchill explained that the old doctrine of power balances was unsound because they could not afford to work on narrow margins and the temptations of a trial of strength. Churchill explains that if Western Democracies stand for the principles of the UN charter, they will further those principles without being molested. However, if they falter in that duty or become divided, then catastrophe is imminent.

So Mr. Churchill thinks they must have unity or disaster. That’s the way Missouri heard it, at least. That would be hard to achieve. Countries liked to fight and be at odds with one another; it was their nature. Peace and unity with each other was going to be impossible. They all cared too much about their own interests.

Churchill explained that he saw it coming last time, but no one paid attention. But if they had, Weimar Republic might have been spared from her fate, and the world would have been spared from Hitler. Churchill explains that the war could have been prevented before it had begun, and Weimar Republic would be powerful, prosperous, honored, and alive today. Still, since no one listened, she was killed, and war followed. Churchill explained that that could not be allowed to happen again.

Missouri sighed, back to the whole preventing war thing then. Some wars can be prevented, although sometimes preventing them only worsens the injuries causing the war. You can only delay the inevitable for so long. War will happen. It’s too ingrained in the blood of countries and their people.

Missouri would love peace, but he didn’t think he would ever see world peace, not in his lifetime, anyway.

Churchill explained that it would only be achieved by achieving an understanding on all points with the Soviet Union under the UN's authority and maintaining that good understanding through the peaceful years supported by the world and the strength of the English-speaking world and its connections. Churchill explains that that was his solution, which he titled “The Sinews of Peace.”

The solution is to make sure Missouri’s father and Soviet understand each other? Well, that’s certainly a solution they could try, although Missouri didn’t know how effective it’d be. His father was already pissed about Soviet fucking around in Iran and was prepared to get involved. Still, the UN was trying to resolve that situation so things might improve.

Churchill then said that no man should underrate the British Empire's and its Commonwealth's abiding power. Churchill explained that just because they had a smaller food supply and have had difficulty restarting their industries, they would recover, and in half a century, 70-80 million Britons would be spread around the world and united in defense of their traditions, way of life, and of the world causes.

Yeah, the war did hit Britain hard. Still, Missouri thinks some people would appreciate Britain taking a step back for a while. Lord knows he’s fucked and fucked up people’s lives more than enough times.

Churchill explained that if the population of the English-speaking Commonwealths were added to the US with cooperation across all fields, then there would be no precarious balance of power to tempt anyone. Instead, there would be an overwhelming assurance of security, with everyone adhering to the UN Charter. The future would be peaceful. No one would attack each other for land or try to control the thoughts of man. If the British and the Americans united, the future would be bright for a century to come.

That was a bit ironic for him to say, considering what both of their nations have done in the past. But still, this was about the future. Britain can change, and so can they, hopefully for the better. It seemed like the speech was over now, and Missouri turned to leave. He didn’t feel like staying for much longer, even though Caleb and DC had to. 

The speech contributed to the anxiety his father and his siblings were feeling. Missouri just hoped that it didn’t mean anything too bad. He sighed.

Things were really about to get very complicated, weren’t they?

———————

Event: Iranian Crisis of 1946—Resolution 3

Location: Westminster Central Hall, London, England, United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland 

Date: April 4, 1946

America was pissed. It had been months since the deadline, and Soviet had yet to pull out of Iran. America had already gotten UN and the rest of the current Security Council, China, France, Dad, Australia, Brazil, Egypt, Mexico, Netherlands, Poland, and, slightly to America’s surprise, Soviet, to pass a resolution that told them to pursue negotiations. 

A resolution that seemed to have done nothing, as they had once again needed to pass a resolution addressing this problem. Thankfully, Soviet wasn’t here at this meeting, as America was pretty sure the nation would have been doing his best to slow down the passing of the resolution if he had. America wasn’t sure what Soviet was doing to cause him to be absent, but it most likely had something to do with his actions in Iran.

“I don’t like it. It’s strange and foreboding.” James commented.

“You don’t like most things,” Unorganized Territory commented lightly.

“Resolution of 4 April 1946, obviously, we know the date,” UN said as he began reading out what was written in the resolution before they voted on it. UN was interesting. He was nice but always seemed very nervous. Then again, his father, League of Nations, had failed to stop a world war, so he might just be anxious that he would fail at that as well. Still, UN was a very hard worker, even if he did have an annoying habit of calling everyone by their full names.

“The Security Council, taking note of the statements by the Iranian representative, that the Iranian appeal to the Council arises from the presence of USSR troops in Iran and their continued presence there beyond the date stipulated for their withdrawal in the Tripartite Treaty of 29 January 1942,” UN began. 

America was the first country to withdraw from Iran, followed by his father. They started to get worried when the Soviet Union didn’t withdraw by the date he was supposed to, but America was alarmed when he expanded his military presence there and helped set up those two puppet states.

“A coward's move,” Caleb hissed, venom in his voice, “Making a puppet countryhuman to further your own interests should be punishable by law.”

America sighed at Caleb but knew the human had a point. Soviet was after influence, which was only solidified by the creation of the puppets. 

America was also getting worried about what that influence would mean. He regretted what he had let Soviet get away with at Yalta and Potsdam, but he wasn’t looking to provoke a conflict, and for the sake of peace, America was willing to let him have what he wanted.

But if Soviet was going to start conflicts because what he had been given wasn’t enough for him, America should’ve just started a fight right there, and then we wouldn’t be in this mess.

“You always regret things when you look back at them. The best we can do now is fix any damage and prevent him from gaining any more power,” James said, masterfully helping America deal with his stress. James was always good at that. He had a way with words and was good at soothing anxieties while finding a way to insult Britain in the same breath.

America sighed. Hopefully, this pressure from UN would help convince him to back down, although America was willing to help Iran if he didn’t.

If only Kennan’s telegram had been created earlier, perhaps things would have been different. 

“Taking note of the replies dated 3 April of the Government of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics and the Iranian Government pursuant to the request of the Secretary-General for information as to the state of the negotiations between the two Governments and as to whether the withdrawal of USSR troops from Iran is conditional upon agreement on other subjects, and in particular taking note of and relying upon the assurances of the USSR Government that the withdrawal of USSR troops from Iran has already commenced; that it is the intention of the USSR Government to proceed with the withdrawal of its troops as rapidly as possible; that the USSR Government expects the withdrawal of all USSR troops from the whole of Iran to be completed within five or six weeks; and that the proposals under negotiation between the Iranian Government and the USSR Government ‘are not connected with the withdrawal of USSR troops’, being solicitous to avoid any possibility of the presence of USSR troops in Iran being used to influence the course of the negotiations between the Governments of Iran and the USSR,” UN said.

America sincerely hoped that Soviet would pull out his troops within the time limit and not try to use them to make any negotiations favorable to him. That would make things much more complicated. 

“Yeah, because everything is so simple already,” Caleb snarked.

“Recognizing that the withdrawal of all USSR troops from the whole of Iran cannot be completed in a substantially shorter period of time than that within which the USSR Government has declared it to be its intention to complete such withdrawal,” UN said, causing Netherlands to snort.

"Then why did he set that date?” he muttered in Dutch, getting a curious look from Brazil.

That was true…still, Soviet needed to withdraw quickly, regardless of the time limit he gave himself. This crisis needed to end quickly. They had just wrapped up the world war last year, and there were still occupied countries, trials for war criminals, and all that other stuff they had to do.

America hated being a major power so far. All it gave you was too much work. He didn’t want to have to deal with Soviet’s bullshit.

“It can’t be worse than dealing with your kids,” Caleb said, causing Unorganized Territory to let out a noise of protest.

“We aren’t that bad, Caleb!’

“Resolves that the Council defer further proceedings on the Iranian appeal until 6 May, at which time the USSR Government and the Iranian Government are requested to report to the Council whether the withdrawal of all USSR troops from the whole of Iran has been completed and at which time the Council shall consider what, if any, further proceedings on the Iranian appeal are required.”

America groaned. He didn’t want to have to do more things to clear up Soviet’s mess. God, America was going to have to do this even more, do stuff like this all the time, since he’s a permanent member of the Security Council.

America was not that prepared to deal with this. Knowing the other countries, this would be like dealing with his states, but possibly worse, something he didn’t even think was possible.

“Excuse you!” Unorganized Territory said, prompting a laugh from Caleb.

“Provided, however, that if in the meantime either the USSR Government or the Iranian Government or any member of the Security Council reports to the Secretary-General any developments which may retard or threaten to retard the prompt withdrawal of USSR troops from Iran, in accordance with the assurances of the USSR to the Council, the Secretary-General shall immediately call to the attention of the Council such reports, which shall be considered as the first item on the agenda.” UN finished.

“Let’s hope this resolution actually does something this time,” France said. UN sighed.

“I hope so. I assume that means you are voting yes?” UN asked. France nodded.

“I will be voting yes as well.” Netherlands chimed in. UN nodded.

“I will not be voting,” Australia said.

“Why not?” America asked.

“Reasons. You are voting yes, I suppose? You were the one who kept pushing for these resolutions.” Australia asked. America nodded.

“I am voting yes,” I said.

“And so am I,” Dad added on. UN nodded.

“Republic of China?” He asked.

“I’m voting yes.” She said.

“Federative Republic of Brazil?” UN said, moving on to the next country.

“Yes.”

“Republic of Poland?” UN asked. America was curious about Poland’s vote. They had agreed to let Soviet have some influence over him and for the Soviet Union’s provisional government to remain. The Poland from before, the government-in-exile was pissed and, much to the annoyance of many, still alive.

This Poland was young, the new Poland and most people aside from Soviet had yet to properly talk to him.

“Are we sure he even has free will at this point? We know Soviet likes his puppets,” James commented.

“I’m voting yes,” Poland replied, his hands fidgeting with a pen.

“Kingdom of Egypt?” UN asked my brother, who nodded.

“I am voting yes.” He said.

“United Mexican States?” UN asked the last country, who nodded.

“My vote is yes,” Mexico said. America sighed, leaning back in his chair. That was good news. Hopefully, this would prompt Soviet into more action.

“Alright then. This resolution is adopted with nine votes, the Commonwealth of Australia not voting, and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics absent.” UN finished.

“Great. Hopefully, that’ll convince Soviet to actually do something instead of making us endlessly tell him to resolve the issue.” Brazil said.

“I mean, he could always ignore it,” James said. “Lord knows your states do that often enough.”

“Agreed. I want this issue wrapped up, as I have a bunch of other things to do.” America said.

“We all have a lot to be doing. Rebuilding after the war is very hard, not that you would understand that much, being so removed from it.” Dad commented.

“I know how hard it is to rebuild after a war, Dad,” America said. He had to do it after his War of Independence and after…that other war. It wasn’t fun or easy. Maybe America could do something to help Europe. 

“Do we have to?” Caleb asked. James snorted but voiced his agreement.

“Just cause we’re the world power doesn’t mean we need to make everyone’s problems our own.”

America resolved to have a more thorough discussion with those two once they were out of the UN meeting, as he couldn’t talk to them without looking crazy. But still, with all that was happening, something told America that Soviet and him wouldn’t be friends for much longer, especially with what George Kennan said.

[simplysparrow14]

I’d love to hear about all your writing, but you know me: the one titled “We are not always what we seem, and hardly ever what we dream” immediately piqued interest 👀

ahhh Thank You!!

This fic is mainly inspired by Snow White, more importantly, just the themes of Snow White in general. The notion of friendship and friend-groups, dreaming of love, finding a home that accepts you as you are, regardless of circumstance just really spoke to me.

The entire premise is that Caleb, after years of abuse from Trent in the Soltryce academy, finally gets the courage to escape. He leaves behind Astrid and Eadwulf in his desperate flight and traverses Wildmount, never stopping because of the fear that Trent and the rest of Academy are hot on his trail. He tries his best to steer clear of towns and large cities, and in the process becomes a street-rat, scrounging for food in trash bins and waste disposal carts, even going so far as to threaten normal, unwilling people on the roads, demanding their food (he still regrets the one couple he robbed on the highways; it had been snowing and so very cold, and Caleb had been so hungry. They looked rich. They sounded of money. Calling forth his magic, he threatened the wife with fire. The husband had been fast, and in his fear, Caleb burned him. He ran into the night with their wallet, the cries of anguish still in his ears, and he's sorry, so very sorry...)

In the daylight, Caleb is nothing more than a wandering miscreant, But at night, he is a dutiful student, practicing his charms and cantrips. It puts him at ease knowing that, at the end of the day, after his escape, he still has something to call his own.

Eventualy, Caleb comes across The Fletching and Moondrop Traveling Carnival. In this version, the entire M9 are circus performs (Yasha as a strongman, Jester as a general clown/magicians assistant, Veth and Beau as part of a 2-person acrobat show, Fjord as a swordsmaster.) In this version, Caleb is brought into the group by Molly (insert Muppet charismas carol "Who did NOT die") to be the circus' newest magician. It does take a few weeks for Caleb to be comfortable with everyone but the days that follow are some of the warmest and happiest that he's had in a long, long time.

Caleb is instantly loved by the small children (and by jester) who adores his intricate magic. He makes glowing animals and trinkets out of thin air and during one particularly rowdy show, he turns his magic toward Jester, creating for her the pink horses and lollipops she loves dearly. Jester is instantly smitten with him, charmed by his quiet stance, his intense eyes. He's nothing like the magicians who called the circus home. He's nothing like her, who delights in tricks but scoffs at gifting (she's still learning). Each piece of magic that he crafts for the children is special and unique, thoughtful in a way that none of the other's had been before.

Admittedly, Caleb also becomes smitten with Jester. In the after hours of the shows, she's the first to greet him in his rooms. She sits with him, marveling at the amount of books and tomes he's managed to fit within the small space. At every opportunity, she's smiling at him, and the way his heart flutters at the sight is nothing short of electric. He likes everything about her, including her super scuffy slightly-dead looking ferret who somehow survives She's nothing like Astrid and certainly nothing like the other people he's had clandesdine crushes on. She's a dream made real to him and he's more than willing to waste his magic on simple circus tricks if it means

Eventually, things between Jester and Caleb start happening. She and Caleb start preforming acts together (think a very Zendeya/Zack Efron "Rewrite the Stars" moment) delighting the crowd with their grand shows. Caleb, for the first time in his life, feels appreciated and loved, and most of all safe.

However, all of it comes crashing down when Astrid and Eadwulf arrive one day, along with Trent, who's disguised himself as a simple old man. Releaved that his is alive, Astrid and Eadwulf beg him to return, that Trent, in the event of Caleb's escape, has changed his ways. However, when the two are far from ear-shot, Trent returns to his absuive and manipulative ways. He's been at the circus before, watching Caleb from a distace, and has noticed how he looks at the pretty little tieflight clown.

With whisperd words, Trent preforms the same spell that he used on Caleb to destroyed his parents, twisting his memories. Trent then gives Caleb a peice of food (I cant decide on either a powerderd donut or a cupcake) to give to Jester. As Jester is about eat the food, Caleb snaps out of it just in time to wresle Jester for it, and in his haste to get it away from her, Caleb takes the plunge and eats it. The poison within the food actives and Caleb falls into a death like sleep.

That's about as far as I got with the outline. Obviously it'll end with a Trent vs M9 fight, Jester kissing Caleb awake and a happy, perfect ending.

[saltytothecore]

👀 !

hello, hello!

I really wanted more mind control cakes, specifically Essek flavored ones, and a little bit of canon divergence in the aeor arc seemed like a good place to make one, so

“Well.” 

A single word, and the flicker of hope Caleb had been sheltering is extinguished, leaving only a wisp of recrimination behind. Of course, they wouldn’t have made it to the Aether Crux first, they never had a chance. Not when Lucien had Essek. 

Caleb steels himself to turn back, to look, but before he can, the very ground shifts under them, rotating in a syncopated series of tremors until they are forced to face Lucien. 

And with him, Essek.

“Look who it is,” Lucien continues, purring into Essek’s ear. Essek’s head jerks, an unnatural motion—chin first, like he’d been slapped, the muscles in his neck bulging before his shoulders follow, bringing the rest of his body along—and he stares out at them, red-hazed eyes dull in a face set with a sleeper's utter lack of expression. “The people who brought you to me.”

Caleb’s teeth grind together, a litany of abuse held just in check. Lucien’s lips part in a smile, white and sharp. The hell of it is that Lucien is right. 

He doesn’t see how it happens—one moment, Essek is there beside him, and the next he is dangling from Lucien’s uplifted arm. Gasping, clawing with animal panic, kicking out with his legs, but unable to budge the hand around his neck. 

Lucien shushes him, pressing the forefinger of his offhand against Essek’s lips.

“No need to be afraid, precious. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Essek, to his credit, had growled instead of pleading, and kicked out one last time, before Lucien lifted that hand and covered Essek’s eyes with it. All along Lucien’s body, red lights wink into existence.

They brought Essek here, and, when it counted, they couldn’t stop Lucien from taking him away.

[derelictheretic]

Wip sometime!

I've been tagged in a few wip days but most recently tagged by @adelaidedrubman, @ishwaris, @strafethesesinners and @natesofrellis ty <333

Sending tags out to @viktor-sinclaire @englass @aceghosts @henbased @florbelles @shellibisshe @shallow-gravy @beemot @socially-awkward-skeleton @clicheantagonist @thomrainer @deputyash @unholymilf @redreart

I have not been writing a ton atm, doing all the october prompts wiped me out but I have some small things to share!!

Very small sneak peak at a Charmeine third bday fic that's in the works bc it's comin up soon 🥺💕

John had been counting down the minutes, unable to sleep due to his excitement. It was ten minutes to midnight, ten minutes until Charmeine's third birthday. The toddler was tucked in between Dean and himself, currently curled against Dean with one of her small hands clutching onto a handful of his hair. John gently petted her head, her light brown hair soft as silk under his palm. He could barely believe it had been three years, it still felt like they brought her home for the first time a week ago.

Well, she was much bigger than she was then, he remembers when he was able to tuck her small body against him with one arm. Not that he held her like that often, she'd been a wriggly one since she took her first breath and two arms were always advised when carrying her. Not everyone took that advisery under consideration, Jacob had constantly given John grey hairs with how haphazardly he carried his niece.

More of the single dad au, this time with a fun lil conversation about mortuary work bc I was watching a lot of playthroughs of the mortuarys assistant

Caleb laughs as Dean flops down on the couch, stretching out and resting his back over Caleb's legs. He lets out a dramatic sigh of content as he gets comfortable, Caleb trying to hold back his giggling as he bats at his dad's side.

"Is it just me or did the couch get bumpier?" Dean asks, eyebrows pulled tight together as he shimmies in place. Caleb rolls his eyes as Dean grins, playfully nudging Caleb's stomach with his elbow.

"Dad!" Caleb groans half heartedly, the grin on his face giving him away as he swats Dean's arm away. Dean chuckles and rests his arms down, opening his mouth to say something when the sound of quick footsteps interrupts. Charmeine jumps up and bodyslams on top of him before he can get a word out; earning a loud burst of laughter from Caleb.

"Oomf—hello sweetie," Dean coughs as Charmeine clambers up on him, sitting on his stomach and holding her hands up. Dean lifts his hands up and allows Charmeine to play a one sided game of paddy cake as she beams down at him.

"Daddy, do you want to hear what I learned today?"

"Of course I do angel, what did you learn?"

"Annie's daddy makes dead people pretty for funerals," Charmeine relays, continuing slapping Dean's hands and clapping along to a tune in her head. Caleb makes a sound akin to a scoff as both he and Dean look at her with their mouths fallen open in shock.

"Oh... Delightful!" Dean says after a moment of silence, glancing at Caleb who just shakes his head in disbelief.

"She says she gets to put makeup on them." Charmeine adds and Caleb repeats the sound he made before much less subtly.

"Is that allowed?" He asks, looking down at Dean who squints up at the ceiling in thought, before pursing his lips and shrugging gently.

And as always I have art wips coming out the wazoo, have a sneak peak at the 3 most recent ones <3

[dirtwatchman]

PARTIES: Caleb (@dirtwatchman) TIME: Early August SUMMARY: Caleb gets caught doing something unsavory by a random stranger. How unlucky for said stranger. WARNINGS: Death, grave disturbances, cpr, blood, surgery (not descriptive, just mentions), unsanitary (also not descriptive, just want to be safe), mentions of child/domestic abuse

He didn’t know his own strength anymore. Even when he was well fed and less of a threat to society, Caleb apparently had more strength than he realized. It was probably all of those years spent digging in a cemetery so that people could lay their loved ones to rest or maybe even the years spent working his odd end jobs but no matter what it was he needed to remember this moment so that it didn’t happen again. Flashes of the night kept replaying in his mind as he dug up the soft earth beneath his feet, undoing the progress he’d made to re-bury a body Caleb had just stolen a brain from earlier. 

The person had come out of nowhere, their eyes wide as they roamed over the various tools the zombie used to pry the dead person’s brain from their skull, until they stopped on said brain resting in a plastic container inside of his Igloo cooler. A scream rang out in the night causing him to realize he wasn’t alone, a breath he didn’t necessarily need to take hitching in his throat as his eyes met the other person's panic stricken ones. Caleb stammered while he tried to think of an explanation to give but how did one explain this scene? How was he supposed to tell them that Caleb was only trying to keep people safe? He couldn’t, a full sentence hadn’t gotten the chance to form before the other person was yelling.

“Oh my god, you freak, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Maybe if the person hadn’t uttered those words at all they would still be with the living but when he’d heard ‘freak’ Caleb saw red. It brought him back to those nights he’d spent with the Ellsworth’s, bringing back the words that his own foster father had shouted at him far too often in his youth. ‘Freak’ seemed to be a trigger for him, something that had been completely unknown before that night, and a fact that only instilled more fear in his mind. This couldn’t happen again and yet the word was a common insult to throw around. Maybe not at him but there were a multitude of other ‘freaks’ walking through the streets of Wicked’s Rest and just as many disrespectful human beings, if not more.

Looking back on it, the person calling him a freak was valid. How often did someone come along and find a man with a dead person’s brain sitting next to them on the ground? Nobody could blame them for wanting to go to the authorities, not even the zombie who was doing his best to sustain his and others appetites. But in the heat of the moment Caleb had lost the ability to think clearly and now the stranger was laying on the ground, blood pooling from the wound to their head. One minute they were yelling about going to the police and then the next he was pushing them so hard they’d cracked their skull against a particularly sturdy headstone.

The worst part? For a split second Caleb had felt vindicated, relieved, some sort of sick satisfaction as he moved closer to them and watched them bleed from their open wound imagining that it was Gary lying there not breathing. 

Then he finally realized they weren’t breathing. 

“Wait…wait, no!” 

Caleb shook his head as his own words echoed in his mind, the panic lacing his voice still palpable even within a memory. The shovel in his hand hit the top of the coffin he’d already said goodbye to once tonight, causing a vibration to move through his hands and his arms, arms that should have been sore after trying to revive the person he’d killed. But after wiping away more of the dirt, all Caleb could do was stand there and stare at the gray coloring of it. The color matched the body sitting at the edge of the grave, his gaze cutting to the hand now hanging over the edge. It was as if they were pointing at him, accusing him, ignoring the apology that repeatedly slipped from his lips earlier in the night.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry!”

Caleb’s arms moved in sync to the rhythm of Staying Alive, the song they told him to hum if he’d ever needed to administer CPR to anyone. His hands were clasped together over the person’s chest, pumping as hard as he could in hopes of bringing them back from the murky depths of death. It was useless though. They were gone. He knew they were gone and yet he couldn’t stop the motion until he heard the tell tale crack that told him he’d broken their ribs in more than one place. 

That sound pulled him away from the song. He sat back on his legs as defeat joined the despair filling his entire body, tears rolling down his cheeks when he finally accepted that they were dead. How did this happen? He was careful about keeping himself fed so that he could avoid situations like this and yet there was a body on the ground next to him with their skull exposed. 

“I’m sorry.”

It slipped from his lips again, his mouth moving with the ghost of his own lips as he pulled himself back to the present once more. This time it was whispered as opposed to being spit out like poison against his tongue. The apology disappeared into the night, joining the sounds of the crickets playing a mournful tune. At least they were getting a proper funeral.

Caleb wiped at his nose with the sleeve of the flannel shirt he had wrapped around his waist before he threw the shovel over the edge of the grave. He crawled out himself, situating himself so he was sitting next to the body with his legs hanging over the side. A proper funeral held goodbyes, words of sorrow from loved ones. Even if he wasn’t a loved one, even if in their last moments this person was terrified of him, they deserved to know that Caleb hadn’t meant to do this. They deserved…something.

What did one say about someone they didn’t know? Especially when he was the cause of their demise? He looked over at them, their eyes wide open with fear. Rigor Mortis had already started to set in so there was no use in trying to close them but he wished he’d thought to do it earlier. Again, he felt like he was already on trial for the murder he hoped would never be discovered, those lifeless eyes boring into him, burning him up from the inside. 

“If it helps, I’m…never going to get this out of my mind.” And he wouldn’t. This person was a part of him now. They would forever be a part of his history, of what makes him who he is. They were molding him into a new shape even now. “Even if you don’t come back as a ghost you’re going to haunt me. Isn’t it fun that that’s your legacy?” The words dripped with sarcasm usually only reserved for himself. He supposed they still were even as the body continued to stare back at him.

It was time, though. He needed to get moving and make this body disappear quickly. If he kept this up somebody else was going to come along and all the effort spent would be wasted. Sighing, he stood up and unceremoniously kicked the body into the grave with one foot. It landed with a thud against the coffin below, causing him to flinch. How primitive of him. 

“Here lies…a person who didn’t deserve this no matter how harsh their words were. They join Mrs. Darcy in the dark depths of the earth, forever bound to her with their too early demise. I wish you all the peace death can bring.” Swallowing thickly, Caleb moved to grab his shovel but before he started to entomb them within the earth he repeated the words he’d said a hundred times that night. 

“I really am sorry.”

[cagedchoices]

NAME ETYMOLOGY

Originating from the Hebrew word כֶּלֶב (kelev), Caleb is a name which loosely translated means "dog, dogged, faithful, or loyal." Reportedly, an alternative translation connects it to the Hebrew form כָּל (kal) and לֵב (lev), meaning "whole-hearted."

In the Old Testament, Caleb is the name of one of the 12 spies Moses sent to scout ahead into the land of Canaan before the Israelites were meant to enter. Of the 12 spies, 10 called to abort the mission, believing that taking the land would be impossible, for the Canaanites were many and strong and the Israelites were too weak to fight. Caleb and Joshua were the only two spies who believed the land could be conquered, having faith in God would allow them to prevail in their mission. The nonbelieving generation would get lost and perish in the desert wilderness for their lack of faith, and Caleb and Joshua alone would survive to enter the Promised Land.

Also interesting to note is that Caleb was chosen to represent the tribe of Judah, which would later become known as the line of kings. Rehoboam succeeded his father Solomon as the king of Israel, but his subjects eventually revolted against him because of high taxes. This led to the divison of the kingdom into Israel and Judah, with Rehoboam ruling over Judah.

Nichols, on the other hand, is a shortened version of Nicholas, a Medieval English form of the Greek name Νικόλαος (Nikolaos), meaning "to conquer" or "victory of the people." Derived from the Greek νίκη (nike) "victory" and λαός (laos) "people."

Caleb Nichols is first introduced to us with a particularly ambiguous background, one that led to a whole lot of people anticipating that he was secretly a robot all along. While I didn't agree with this, I did wonder, especially after looking into the etymology of his first and last name, if he would become a host later on, or have something to do with the Sublime.

The hosts who made it into this virtual world at the end of Westworld Season 2 were promised safety and freedom apart from humanity, and were not unlike the Israelites in the Exodus. Most of the ones who did not make it into the Sublime were permanently decommissioned and later destroyed, with only a select few being spared.

This is also paralleled with the concept of human outliers in season 3. Many outliers are killed outright, others are placed in cryogenic storage, and a select handful are successfully brainwashed and reconditioned to the point that they are allowed to reintegrate into society to a certain degree. Caleb, I think, serves as someone who was meant to potentially bridge these two worlds.

Instead of his existence ending at the moment he died, he gets brought back again and again as part of this immortality project. The reason we're given is that Charlotte-Dolores is bored and Caleb is the closest thing she has to a real adversary anymore and she is both repulsed by and yet so fascinated, even obsessed with him. He was the first human able to fully resist and fight off her mind control, and even though she has long since conquered the entire world, the answer to the question of "how did he do that?" still plagued her enough to want to bring him back close to 300 times over.

He doesn't have unwavering faith in a benevolent deity, but he does have unwavering faith and loyalty in love, in hope, in his family.

[kiss-my-freckle]

That Twitter thread also noted these red flags that people miss in Stelena:

When he ‘finds out’ Aria is his student (he knew all along), he doesn’t just say “we can’t do this.” Instead he constantly repeats that *he wants to* but can’t. This creates an us-against-them in Arias mind. Age isn’t the issue, it’s other people.

This is so Stefan in 1x9/1x10 after Elena found out about his vampirism.

She turns to Fitz to validate how ‘adult’ the burden has made her feel. Ezra acted like an adult romantic relationship to match her adult familial burdens.

Stefan lying about being a 17 year old growing up without parents and Elena being with him to relate to her burden and validate her feelings fits.

He points out what she says actively disrupts her from them chance of an appropriate relationship. His solution is to switch school districts rather than end the relationship. Noel tries to blackmail Ezra for a better grade after discovering the relationship. Ezra takes a moral stance against that but not statutory rape.

Aka after Elena questions Stefan his solution was to throw Damon in a cellar, not honesty or ending the relationship.

Ezra surrounded himself with people who shrug away and enable their relationship.

Lexi thought Stefan was strange for being with Katherine's doppleganger after seeing Elena but quickly got over it and encouraged him to sexualize her and romanticize their relationship.

The shaming was very clear: keep our secret or I will ice you out.

Stefan's threat in 1x6. Speaking of 1x6, I'm mad at how people bring up Damon restraining Elena in 2x10 to save her life as toxic but Stefan restraining Elena's arm as she's trying to run away from his house is never brought up. Right after he found out Katherine was one he wanted her to get away from him and he's seen in a more sympathetic light than Elena.

Stefan in 1x10 can be seen through Elena's parallel in 5x17.

I agree with everything you've posted. It's been a long time since I've watched PLL, so I don't remember all their ships. I just remember that Caleb and Hanna was my favorite ship and I never liked Ezra and Aria. Not many people have a problem with their power differential, but it's the reason Stefan's character deserves more hate than Elena's. Elena is deceived more than she deceives, and her lack of life/love experience makes her more understandable as compared to Stefan.

"But she's big on trust."

"The Elena I know would always want the real truth, good or bad."

She's a lot like Damon in the fact that she prefers honesty, so I'm not surprised that the Delena ship is built on it.

[thevoyageurmoteplass-writing]

Caleb knew this was a bad idea, he didn’t need the hushed reminders of Liam in his ear to tell him that, nor the prickling of nerves on the back of his neck. He didn’t need the two stocky blokes on either side of the office doors to enforce the message either. Deep down, he knew he was making a terrible mistake, but he couldn’t back down now; he refused to. The Grayson family were trouble, they were threatening to cause an issue for Caleb and he couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let anything endanger his daughter. If that meant making a deal with this particular devil, then so be it.

The office doors opened, but Caleb kept his attention resolutely on the desk before him. Liam had no such self-control and gave a start. On his knee, Caleb’s two year old squirmed, thinking the whole thing a massive game.

‘Had I known it was bring your child to work day I would have brought my own family along,’ said Sebastian Laverna in lieu of a greeting. His shoes clicked against the hardwood floor as he moved further into the office, as Liam finally looked towards Livi and tried to hush her.

‘You know how it can be, Mr. Laverna,’ Caleb said, watching only once the Italian was in his line of sight, as he wandered around the desk and took his seat in the chair that may well have been a throne. ‘Finding the right childcare is difficult.’

Sebastian inclined his head in agreement. Everything about him screamed tranquillity, made it seem like the whole conversation wasn’t somehow linked to anything untoward. But Caleb’s hands were slick. One false move in this little chess game and the bears by the doors would pounce. At least if it came to it he knew his daughter would be the only one left physically unharmed, that was something.

Caleb nodded, rubbed his sweating palms dry down the knees of his jeans. ‘Childcare’s what I’ve come about,’ he said, and he spotted the surprised quirk of Sebastian’s eyebrow. ‘About what happens to my daughter.’

‘Surely she has other family who –’

‘No,’ Caleb interrupted. A flash of irritation; a low moan of unease from Liam. Caleb shook his head, buried the emotions a little deeper. ‘Sebastian, Livi has no one but us. If anything…’ He sighed, ran a weary hand over his face. Two days ago this had felt like a good idea, knowing the Lavernas protected their own, that they might have at least one legitimate job for the toddler to go into when she was older. A certainty, not the complete unknown of orphanages and children’s homes. Now, faced with the head of a criminal family that had this as a profession more than he ever had, it felt ridiculous.

‘You seek sanctuary for your daughter amongst thieves and crooks?’ Sebastian’s voice was low, yet still Caleb knew he was walking a very fine line. A safety net had been thrown to him, it was up to him to use it or not.

‘I seek sanctuary for my daughter amongst people who understand honour,’ he said, meaning every word as he glanced briefly at his daughter. There was a bright smile on her face, even as her gaze skittered inquisitively around the room. He drew strength from her. ‘Amongst people who created a family through trust and not mere circumstances as some would suggest.’

Sebastian looked at him appraisingly, only glanced briefly at Liam before leaning back in his chair. He steepled his fingers, elbows rested casually on the arms of his seat. ‘Do you know how you would work to pay for such… assurances?’

The word “Anything” bubbled up inside Caleb, but he forced it back and instead shook his head.

‘You have been a free agent, Ghost,’ Sebastian said, giving the title the reverence Caleb had heard it spoken with before. Few knew the link to him, but those who did he was cautious of, save Liam. ‘We make this promise, and all artwork, however trivial, comes to us.’

‘And if I stop with artwork altogether?’ Caleb asked before he could stop himself. He mentally cursed, and was surprised to see a genuine smirk of amusement on Sebastian’s face.

‘Neither party would be breaking the promise,’ he said mildly. ‘But I’ve seen your track record. In a week you’d be bored of banks, of idle curios from long forgotten warehouses. We’d get our dues.’

Caleb wanted to argue but found he couldn’t. The man posed a very valid argument.

‘You would obviously get commission, we’re not savages, but I would like my man to verify, to value, all of it.’ He leant forwards, extended his hand.

The two year old cooed and reached out, only for Liam to gently pull her back. His face was pale, eyes searching.

‘Kay, you sure?’ he asked in barely more than a whisper.

‘What other choice do I have?’ Caleb said softly. After all, it was too late to stop being Ghost. He’d started down this path long before his daughter was born, now he had to do whatever it took to keep her safe. He lent forwards and clasped Sebastian’s hand. ‘We have an agreement,’ he vowed, really hoping that it would never come to the Lavernas holding up their end.

[saphirered]

Oooo could you do one with Caleb and his S/O who performs at the Lavish Chateau and is kinda an older sister figure to Jester? Maybe they incorporate spell casting into their performances so when they find out Jester has a new wizard friend they're like "teach me ur secrets magic man"

Oh boy I haven't written for Caleb in a hot minute! Hope you enjoy this lil angsty magic man!

The blue tiefling had been bouncing up and down ever since her mother announced someone would be visiting that day. Caleb didn’t really feel the need to pry in Jester’s private life but when he asked who this would be and how the Lavorre family came to know this mysterious visitor he knew he made a mistake and readied himself for his ears to be talked off his head. Thank the gods that the Ruby herself noticed, like she hardly misses anything and saved him from the never ending barrage of stories about this person who’d been slowly adopted into the Lavish Chateau family. 

There were some dubious and outright questionable sides to the story and the involvement of this ‘older sibling’ but long story short; you’re a performer, much like the Ruby of the Sea, in your early adulthood you found yourself in some nasty circumstances and Jester brought you in, you worked off your self acclaimed debt by waiting tables until you revealed your performance skills and from there on you found yourself enjoying the life style of your particular niche of entertainment, you stuck with the Lavorres and became as good as one of their own.

Most importantly to Caleb, he’d have to prepare himself for another outsider to enter this bubble. You’d been invited to perform in Port Damali at some Maquis’ palace so that shows you have decently high up connections. That makes you a potential risk to him. You’re unpredictable and there isn’t much more he can learn about you save for what he hears from Jester or by asking around but that only leads him to know your performer’s side. It’s no different than the roles he was taught to take, despite his being of political values for the sake of what his master sought to teach him, actors are actors one way or another and when there were hints of you using some kind of arcane abilities in your performances the alarm bells in his head started ringing. He has to be on guard. 

“The Nicodranian Mirage has returned”, those are the whispers that fill the streets when the Nein are out shopping for supplies and wandering the streets of Nicodranas aimlessly. Jester makes sure to rush them all back to the Chateau, even more excited than before and when they do, there’s a line formed a the entrance, people are gathering to, assumably catch a glimpse of this Nicordranian Mirage. When the tiefling girl said you were both popular and well-loved Caleb ma have underestimated her definition of such. This-this is ridiculous. Your long awaited return has certainly drawn a crowd. Nevertheless Jester pushes her way through, the Nein in tow much to the chagrin of the disgruntled customers and secures a table. 

Caleb is left in awe. The Lavish Chateau looks like an alternate reality. Yes, it is still recognisable as the Chateau where once stood beams supporting the structures and upper level balcony, now vines of colourful flowers have been wrapped around; the carvings brought to life. The scent previously a nice incense and candle-wax has turned to that of a forest. He swears he can see wildlife scurry along the beams. The floor appears to be covered in a layer of grass sprouting wildflowers in a trail that lead to the foot of the stairs. Civilised structures meet nature in a symphony. People are being let in and take up tables at the front but Jester with the help of the bouncer fend them off from the front and centre one. That one is reserved for the Nein. 

Before he knows it the tavern is filled. People wait in anticipation whispering among themselves all unanimously fall silent, seemingly experience the same feeling; awareness, shivers down their spine, somewhat akin to a lover’s breath at their neck beckoning them to safety and comfort. Lights dim. 

“Open your mind. The Mirage will guide you home.” The whisper sounds as enthralling as it is ominous. For but a second Caleb considers he alone heard it, as it seemed so close but others did too, and looking around no one but his friends is there. No invisible creatures either. The customers seem thrilled, but some of the Nein appear most spooked. Jester did not exactly give them the best briefing and their previous experience with anything that messes with their minds or perception of reality has left them less than willing to indulge into some kind of mind-altering effects. Though, given the circumstances and Caleb feels the gentle presence push against his own mind, waiting, signalling its ready to pull back, as lacking any threat, despite his better judgement. Jester waits in anticipation. They look to him for guidance. He’s their resident magic expert after all and this is about as arcane as it gets. He gives them a gentle but hesitant nod and allows the presence to enter his mind. 

At first nothing seems to change. A glowing butterfly dallies down from the balcony and floats towards the Nein’s table. It dances around them until it circles Jester, lands on her nose as the tiefling giggles and it moves to the centre of the table. There it sits. All eyes turn to them and Caleb finds himself falling into old habits, shrinking within himself as much as possible, stay out of sight as much as one can be in the centre of the room. The silence is deafening. The tension is growing and then- in a burst of butterflies, explodes a figure. Gracefully standing on your tiptoes, one hand curled towards the roof the other twisting and turning at the wrist and fingers dancing. Fine silks are draped across your body leaving little to the imagination, yet still give you a sense of modesty with a comfort and ease; a skilled performer at ease with their act and audience. You are entirely in your element with a smile plastered on your face. The butterflies dance around you as you meet the eyes of every single one of them, even offer Jester a wink. 

“It appears we have newcomers. Prepare for a story, my friends.” Gracefully you step off the table. Caleb can’t help but follow your movements. You look ethereal. like you’re not entirely there but you are. You turn to face the crowd once you reach the foot of the stairs. A wave of the hand and fiddle appears in your grasp and so your performance truly begins. You play the melody well, both haunting and beautiful. Caleb may not be a musical prodigy nor hold much knowledge on the subject he didn’t need to. The environment moved with your play; the song a tragedy. The flowers blossomed the false sunlight bleeding through what canopy you created, turning dark, a gentle breeze turning to a cold wind. The light disappears and becomes distorted, he swears he feel rain even though the droplets don’t stick to his skin. Thunder, a beat like a drum falls in with your melody, and then you let go of the fiddle, the instrument playing itself. You sing, as you move and dance around the tavern, your step graceful and light, barely touching the floor at all. You play with your audience like a professional; you are, Caleb reminds himself. Only a fool would not find themselves enthralled by you. 

“I once was a child, playful and loved.” You sing as you let your fingers dance across Jester’s shoulder. She smiles brightly at you as you study the company. You make eye contact with the redhead among them, you breathe, keep his gaze as you reach for the scruffy cheek, slowly. For some reason you’re not entirely sure if you should or not, something telling you to be wary, perhaps it’s the man’s energy. Something arcane lingers around him. When he doesn’t seem to object and invite your touch, to an extend be that out of sheer curiosity or something else entirely as you don’t think you have him enthralled the way you have your clients or the patrons here. 

“Now I suffer for the heart I lost,

I sing the song of thunder and rain, 

for my love knows only pain,

His eyes are blue, stare right through,

I’ve forgotten what it’s like, 

My love, my sweet, my bright mind.” 

You have to stop yourself from staying too long but every so often through out your performance and even after a change of song you find yourself gravitating back towards that friend of Jester’s. You can’t really put a finger to it. You suppose he’s handsome and as you’ve gathered before he has some kind of magical presence to him but you don’t fully think that’s it. There’s pain in his eyes but so there is wonder and bewilderment, there’s kindness and love. There’s so much more to him than meets the eye. Your usual clients might be conventionally pretty but you’ve never put much value to looks. You’ve never experiences yourself gravitating towards someone so naturally. Sure you might have had your crushes but that’s not it. Any sort of desire to know this person transcends what one might deem attraction, or just simply the desire to screw someone and move on. This is not it, nor is it romantic attraction. This feels like you could have known each other as children but then separated and meet again decades later. There’s a sense of familiarity despite you being sure you’ve never met before this very moment. And so you force yourself to continue. You’ve got a job to do. You’ve got an appointment after with yet another client who’s missed your presence on your time away. At least it should provide you distraction for the night. 

————

Hours passed since the performance. Jester had tried to see if you’d be available for the night to meet her friends but that would have to wait until breakfast it seems. Your work didn’t end after your performance and when Jester failed to keep her innuendos to herself Caleb couldn’t help but find himself blushing. He doesn’t know why. This is not a subject he feels particularly shy about. If anything his somewhat frequent ventures to the Chastity’s Nook should be proof enough alone. He simply can’t fend you out of his mind even though the illusions within the tavern have been dispelled; beautiful display of arcane abilities he commented, only for Jester to end up playing wingwoman to you despite you not being there. The tiefling thinks the two of you would make an amazing couple and while she’s well aware your occupation comes with the lack of a lover unless they are a well kept secret or it might ruin your reputation as a courtesan, she still tries. The girl has a tendency to play matchmaker. Caleb trying to be reasonable gently tries to convince her that he’s not spoken a word to you, and the most interaction he’s had with you had been eye contact during your performance but that doesn’t seem to dissuade the tiefling from her latest one true pairing. So Caleb simply ordered another drink. 

But then one by one the Nein headed off to bed and so did he. Still he lied awake staring at the ceiling, his mind providing the phantom images of a canopy of bleeding sunlight turning to clouds and thunder, ghosts of raindrops hitting his skin; his mind stuck somewhere between awake and sleeping yet not asleep. Not truly. His mind refuses to rest and so he quietly makes his way out of his room. It’s not too early in the morning, he knows but the bar’s closed and Carlos should be cleaning up and closing shop at this hour. The halls are quiet as he makes his way downstairs in search of something to drink and a change of scene away from the others. 

You sit at the bar, robe on, costume discarded and exchanged for comfortable breathy night clothes fitted for the Nicodranian weather. You’d been falling half asleep but you wanted to finish this work before you called it night. Your appointment turn a bit more time consuming than initially thought but at least you’d be handsomely compensated for your extra hours. Might finally save up enough for that one special scroll you’d been trying to acquire and with your new contact in Port Damali that would be easier but still came at a steep price no matter your charm. You feel that familiar soothing presence enter the tavern, from the top of the stairs. A quick glance over your shoulder goes unnoticed but gives you enough of a glimpse; exhausted but still unable to sleep. Shirt crumpled from the tossing and turning, hair too despite it being pulled back, if anything it’s made it worse, shoes half laced up and pant legs unevenly stuffed in the shoes have ridden up from a seated position but no effort to readjust them has been made for lack of care or awareness. 

Caleb’s breath catches when he sees you seated there at the bar, back turned towards him. You’re bend over a book and papers, the ink marks on the side of your palm appear clearly when you stretch your arms above your head and crack your fingers with a deep sigh. The barkeep fills your empty glass before he returns to cleaning the last of the glasses, placing them back where they belong. The barkeeper makes eye contact with Caleb, mutters something and takes the final freshly cleaned glass, fills it and puts it in front of him at the bar right when Caleb approaches with caution.  

“You look like you need it.” Carlos speaks. “Turn off the lights once you’re done?” He adds to you specifically. The gesture you return along with a mumble as your focus remains on the work in front of you, can only be interpreted as an affirmation and goodnight. It appears to be enough for the barkeep who bids Caleb good night and heads off to find his own bed and sleep for a while. Your return caused quite a busy night and while the Chateau was definitely well prepared, that doesn’t mean the work is easy. Caleb takes the drink from the bar and is about to leave you to your work when you straighten your spine. 

“You’re welcome to stick around, magic man.” You say with a light tease. Any tension or hesitation Caleb might have had within him dissipates. Any social awkwardness or desire to avoid if not limit any social interaction falls away. He feels at ease and while he searches his mind for some kind of mental effects, trickery or other ways that might influence his perception of reality and thought, he finds none. His curiosity pushes him to agree and so he takes a seat. You turn in yours to face him better. 

“So Jester tells me you’re a practitioner of the arcane. Not many of those around here. Usually they’re just passing through or have ulterior motives for their presence.” You pry gently and if Caleb wasn’t trained like he was, he might have let it slide as innocent curiosity, especially given your easygoing expression lacking any sense of suspicion or inquisitiveness. 

“You’re much more intelligent than you let people believe.” Caleb speaks before he thinks; that’s a rare thing but you push forth that young man he once was. It’s hard to come to terms with the fact he feels himself slip into old habits he’s tried so hard to bury. And thus he might have sounded defensive if not outright hostile. You appear unaffected. 

“And you seem as intelligent as you present yourself. Know exactly what you’re capable of yet you still lack social confidence. Choice or trauma?” Caleb doesn’t even know how to reply. “Ooh, interesting. The latter it is.” Subconsciously Caleb pulls at the sleeve of his shirt and snorts. He finishes his drink and gets up to leave. 

“Wait. Stop. I’m terrible at this.” You sigh, Caleb can’t really believe it. You? You radiate confidence in your performances. How could you be as socially inept as he is? Then his mind reminds him; he didn’t used to be. He has the skills; learned to deceive, put forth an appearance, but without the act, he is as he is. You’ve simply dropped your mask. He gets it now. Another thing you have in common. He takes a closer glance at your notes, or rather what he realises are the pages of spell-work. You’re transcribing a spell and seem to be struggling to get it right. The scroll you’re working from appears to be severely lacking. Filling in the gaps is no easy task he knows first hand but you do seem to have the knowledge and that’s not something just found or taught willy-nilly. Magic practitioners like he knows, like he is and by the looks of it, you might be too, are not just a rarity but a danger. Alarm bells ring in his head. 

“Where did you learn this?” He asks. Suspicion begins to rise within him, a force of habit but everything within him tells him he has no reason to be suspicious of you. Though the more he wallows within your warmth, the more he feels like an imposter, like he’s tarnishing the beauty that’s your arcane aura, corrupting and twisting it. He sees the mistake in your work. 

“I was found to possess a talent for illusory magics as a child. I was taught the basics before I decided the life set out for me by the ones who would call them my masters did not suit me and I ran. I’ve been getting back into practice recently, beyond rudimentary use that is but as you might be able to relate, learning on your own without reliant access to resources is not exactly easy.” You explain, not wishing to delve too deeply in your own past. Caleb notices. He appreciates you answering truthfully no less. Perhaps you two are more similar than you’d both like to admit, if only to bury the pains of your pasts. 

“You’re using ancient runes. Using Naudiz for escape would be fine in rudimentary practice but for this particular use you’ll be better off using Raido for journey instead as the spell settles on movement first and foremost and escape second. May I?” Caleb knows the spell well. He has it within his collection himself. It’s served him well in the past and while his own way of transcribing spells might be different from yours, he understands it. Same language, just a dialect. He likes a challenge when it comes to arcane magic after all and learning more is always on his agenda. With that small alteration you work through, readjust and with Caleb’s oversight you quickly fill in the gaps you were missing, mistakes you had perviously made and get it right. Your laugh sounds like music to his ears when you clap your hands together in success. 

“I could kiss you right now! Thank you, Caleb.” There’s admiration and joy in your eyes; a thing he once expressed to as a student and in rare moments still does, though not without some modicum of guilt. There’s beauty in the sharing of knowledge but he knows the warmth in his chest; not a burning blaze but instead a warming campfire; he knows that comes from having this arcane knowledge once used for destruction and ruin, finds a good heart, the passing on what he was taught or taught himself in this case, to another. He takes satisfaction in teaching. With a wave of your hand a book appears between your fingers. With another, thread, needles and other tools appear on the bar and you take to binding your pages. The two of you sit there, Caleb watching you work as you carry easy laidback conversation. Nothing too personal, old habits do die hard but none of it is bothersome. You appear to be on the same page. 

“How about a trade, magic man? You show me yours I show you mine?” He raises an eyebrow. Caleb dares not consider the innuendo as anything more than a joke as you’ve proven through this entirety of the conversation but when you offer him your spellbook he hesitantly reaches for his. He holds it in his hands, looks at you, back to the book, back to you again and then places it on the bar, sliding it over to you. He takes yours and with great care leafs through the pages as you do through his. He loses track of the contents of your own spellbook, staying on the pages longer than he would usually need to, and watches your glee at the magic contained within the weathered pages, the notes and studies of his own, and so much more. He gets lost in your curiosity and desire to learn more. 

Caleb is so caught up he doesn’t notice some of your spells. He doesn’t notice, until he catches you flip to a certain page and in his own thoughts he’d entirely forgotten the forbidden magic that book contains. Your lips part, a silent breath as your eyes focus on that page, the geometric sigils and in a moment Caleb’s defences go up, he takes the book from your hands and closes it and holds it with a death grip. You didn’t try to stop in but that hint of hurt at his mistrust is no surprise, though, it does make him feel guilty for being the cause of it. 

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t my place. I’d forgotten how guarded mages tend to be over their knowledge. I shouldn’t have asked. ” You apologise as you take your own spellbook from the bar. There’s a deafening silence and Caleb can’t help but feel his ears ringing, blood pulsing through his head like a heartbeat as worry strikes him. You get to your feet book clutched to your chest. 

“I’m a professional keeper of secrets. I won’t spill yours, if that is what you’re worried about. Though, I’d recommend being careful when using that magic out side of the Dynasty. The low level tricks like mine go unnoticed by outsiders. The ones in your collection, rarely do.” You speak, regret audible in your voice. “Oh and you might want to change clothes if you’re staying for a few days. The Marquis will be having representatives of the Empire over. Goodnight.” You scurry off, keeping your head low. The confidence you exerted is all but gone and you seem a little less radiant than he’s seen you. You reach the base of the steps.

“I’m sorry.” Caleb says. He doubts he was loud enough yet still there seems to be some registration of his words as your shoulders tense and you take a deep breath. 

“So am I.” The whisper is barely audible but it’s heart wrenching and in that moment the glee and joy that came from teaching another, from bonding with a fellow mage, and one that might have shared some similar hardships, fizzles. It’s self preservation he tells himself but he can’t help but feel he’s ruined it. He’s ruined his chances of something good yet again. He’s ruined your chances of friendship by his own stupidity. Perhaps there’s a chance to salvage it but there’s always a risk of breaking something beyond repair. Hopefully he’ll come around and hopefully he’ll get over himself. So he spends the rest of the night arguing with himself. Then at sunrise, the light comes. Ink and paper, from his collection, he copies the pages from his own spellbook. Something that aligns with the spells he did see in your collection, something he’d think would be useful to you and something that would make one hell of an apology for his bullshit. 

The Lavish Chateau begins waking, though it’s early morning hours and none of his friends are up and about, the morning shift is preparing for breakfast when he finishes and heads up. He finds himself standing in front of your door. Does he knock? Does he hand you the stack of papers and leave? Does he say anything? Or does he just leave them at your doorstep and hopes you’ll accept them. That’s stupid. You’re probably still asleep. He knocks lightly, enough not to wake you up if you’re asleep but just audible if you’re not. No response. He listens for a second and then gives up. The courage leaves him and he sets the freshly written spell on the floor at your doorstep; apology note to you on top in sight. Caleb turns and walks away, back towards his room down the hall. He casts one last look over his shoulder before he enters his room. 

What Caleb doesn’t notice is the door to your room opening with a light creak. You poke your head out but see not but a closing door to the room you know had been assigned to the wizard. On the ground you see a neatly collected stack of papers with a letter on top, addressed to you. You pick it up. That’s one hell of an apology. A smile returns to your face as you read over the spell copy with a collective of personal notes and instructions one wouldn’t find in a textbook or regular scroll. This was tailored specifically to you. This was chosen for you. Thought and consideration went in to this more than you’ve ever had someone do for you and so your morning starts working on this new spell. With the written help from this magic man you easily transcribe the piece and after find yourself with some more time before breakfast. In turn you begin copying one of your own spells. Geometric designs show the ways to small pocket spaces, you’ve used them to store your spellbook, summon the violin and so on. 

When you’re finished, gotten ready for the day and exit your room you see Caleb, groggily eyed but dressed if not somewhat scraggy, in the hall. You make eye contact and by the looks of it it seems he half expected you to turn away, glare at him or even run. When you don’t and instead walk towards him he freezes. You stop in front of him, take the pages you had prepared and hand them to him. Unsure how to respond verbally Caleb accepts your gesture. Your eyes show nothing of deception or ulterior motives. Instead they exert warmth and compassion. You step away and with a smile towards him you beckon him along. Caleb stares down at the note atop the papers. 

Your secret is safe with me, magic man.

[barry-j-blupjeans]

38 and Merle for the fluff prompts? :0

(I'm really missin Merle today </3 )

38. "May I have this dance?"

--

The sun was setting over the forest that lined the horizon, but the wedding reception for Carey and Killian was still in full swing. For the adults, at least. Mavis and Angus had taken up one of the tables in the back to stay away from the crowd at large. Angus had brought a few books along, as he promised he would last week when they talked over their Stones. Mavis would have brought her own books, but she wasn't really sure if she'd be allowed. A lot of the weddings at the Coralheart Clan were kind of stuffy and loud, and Mavis was told several times that "reading during an important event was rude". Mom defended her a lot, but it didn't always get through people's heads.

But this wedding, no one really commented on it. Maybe that's because they didn't have the Coralheart Clan's explanation, or maybe it was because they were too busy celebrating, but Mavis definitely wasn't going to complain. She was almost caught up with Caleb Cleveland, Kid Cop again and with the next book coming out this fall, she wanted to be ready.

Mookie had drained his energy out within the last few hours and now, he was on the chair next to Mavis, his head pressed against the table, fast asleep. He had one thumb in his mouth, a habit that Mom was trying to train him out of, and his shoes had been kicked off. Angus had already left because he had a "very important job interview for a very important job!" to get to tomorrow morning. He had left three books with her and, while Mavis was pretty tired herself, she was determined to get through this next one before going home.

"You doin' alright, pumpkin?" said a voice from her right. Mavis looked up to see Merle standing there. He had abandoned his bowtie and suit jacket directly after the ceremony and Mavis didn't know where his shirt and shoes had ended up, but they weren't with him now.

"I'm okay," Mavis said, voice low. She glanced over at Mookie and Merle followed her gaze.

"Might be time to get home soon," Merle said. "Don't wanna give a grumpy Mookie back to your mom, huh?"

"I just want to finish this book first," Mavis said. "I've got five more chapters."

"Gotcha," Merle said. Mavis lifted the book back up to read, but she didn't get past one line before Merle said, "If you got time for five more chapters, d'you think you've got time to for a dance with your old man?"

Mavis glanced at her books. And then at Mookie, who snorted in his sleep. Then, back at Merle, who was smiling at her hopefully.

"Yeah," Mavis said, slipping an unused napkin between the pages (she'd normally dogear the page but these were Angus's books, after all). "I think I can do that."

"Well then," Merle said, holding out a hand. "May I have this dance?"

Mavis grinned, cheeks a little flushed. She took Merle's hand and hopped out of her seat. Her feet were aching and she was thankful Mom made her pack flat so she was able to take off her heels earlier. She followed Merle out to the middle of the dance floor, where he waved at somewhere behind her and lifted a thumbs up into the air. The music quieted and then stopped completely. And then, in place of the drums-heavy song they had had before, someone started to play the piano.

"It's a better vibe," Merle said, doing what might have been a wink, but with the one eye, it just looked like he was blinking at Mavis with intention. A violin joined in. Mavis's eyebrows shot up and Merle grinned. "Look, Killian asked 'em to play it anyway. Anyone ever teach you how to waltz, Mavvie?"

"Glymeth tried," Mavis said. "But it didn't work out too well."

"That's alright," Merle said. "Here, we're gonna divide it into little steps like this. Put your hands like this-" Merle moved Mavis's hands into position and she felt a little bit silly, but didn't comment on it. "And then we step this way, and then that way. One, two, yeah? And then-"

"Sorry!" Mavis said, retracting her foot from where she had stepped on Merle's.

"You're good!" Merle said. "Takes a while! Try again."

They repeated a simple motion a few times, Merle leading. Sometimes, Mavis would step on his foot and try to stop, but he'd just shake his head and smile. They spun as they danced, nearly crashing into a few of the other people around them. Mavis could see Aunt Lup and Uncle Barry playing their instruments on the stage when they turned one way. She could see Carey and Killian swaying softly, much less chaotic than earlier, when they turned the other.

When the song finally came to an end, Mavis was sweaty and out of breath, but she felt lighter than she had all day. Merle brought their hands down and they escaped off the dance floor, past Uncle Taako who was attempting to drag Mr. Kravitz into a salsa that seemed way too fast for the next song that began.

"I'll leave ya to your book," Merle said, voice lowering again as they got to Mookie. "And your done come find me, okay? I'll get'cha home."

"Okay," Mavis said, hopping back up onto her seat. Merle smiled and squeezed her shoulder, saying,

"Love ya, Mavvie."

Love you too, dad."