Summary: Being captured by hell, they want information about the Spellman's from you. Having a strong will, eventually Caliban get's assigned to you for torment. Yet after a while, he no longer can. Surprised that you show him kindness while hurt as he had shown you little.
Slowly you opened your eyes. Adjusting to the new lightning. Clearly you weren’t alone as you heard shuffling and chuckling around you. A smell of rotting overwhelming you as a presence came nearer. – “It’s waking up.” – the voice grumbled out. Their voice raspy. Groaning softly, you set your hands to push yourself up. Blinking rapidly to wake up. A pounding in your head. Your vision sharpened on a face as it made you stumble back. Frightened by the horrid face. The person laughed, gruesome teeth visible. – “Beelzebub.” – a voice spoke as the horrid figure seemed to listen to it.
A young man coming in sight, placing a hand on him. – “Give our guest some air.” – he spoke approaching more. Wary about him, you moved further back when he came nearer. With his devilish looks and dashing smile, he knelt down. – “Our guest will need her strength.” – he said reaching out to brush his fingers down your cheek. His touch made you shiver out a breath. The young man snapped his finger as two of the horrid figures approached. – “Take our guest to their chambers to get… comfortable.” – he smiled wickedly.
You got picked up from the ground by your arms. Dragged out as you screamed in protest. Knowing damn well you weren’t in Greendale anymore. Feet dragging over the ground, they led you through a maze of corridors. With each turn it got colder. Your eyes widened as they dragged you into the cold room. Nothing but stone cold walls and shackles. – “No, no, no!” – you screamed out, fighting with every might against them. The two of them pushed you onto the ground.
One of them grinning widely as the other one shackled your hands. Cuffing you on a metal chain so you couldn’t run. – “Enjoy your stay.” – one of them said as you caught a rotten smell from their mouth. Laughing mockingly, they left you. Pulling against your shackles, you hoped it would be old enough to perhaps break. Sadly it was not. Sturdy it held ground.
Defeated you pulled your knees up, wondering how on earth you got here. Hoping perhaps the Spellman’s would soon figure out that you are gone. Coming for you…
The door opened making you lift your head up. It felt like an eternity that they decided to come. You knew they would come. Your gut telling you they’d come. Beelzebub entered, smiling wickedly. Some flies circling around him. He clasped his hands together. – “Let’s set some ground rules.” – he started, slowly approaching. – “You answer correctly and I…I won’t hurt you.” – he added with little care. You moved against your shackles to resist. – “Tell me about the Spellman’s.” – he said.
His first question made clear why you were here. – “Go to hell!” - you shouted out. – “Already here girl.” – he said amusingly opening his hands presentable. Your eyes widened briefly at the thought of being in actual hell. – “Tell me about the Spellman’s.” – he repeated his question. You remained silence. Never in a million years would you tell on your friends. Beelzebub sighed loud. He moved his hand forwards. A chilling scream left your mouth at the burning feeling on your skin. You felt your pores open, sweat boiling on your skin.
Beelzebub lowered his hand making you gasp loud. – “The Spellman’s.” – he spoke coming to kneel in front of you. Your first reaction was to spit at him. Beelzebub closed his eyes, opening his mouth a bit before wiping the spit off his cheek. He moved his hand up again, making you scream in pain. Feeling as if the seven fires of hell were raining down on you. Screaming in agony, you curled up like a ball.
Squirming from the pain. – “The spellman’s!” – Beelzebub said impatient through his torture. You clenched your jaw, refusing to say a word. Beelzebub sighed loud. Unleashing even more pain on you. Your screams went through bone and merrow feeling your inside boil. After a long torment he finally got up, taking his leave. Beaten and broken, you laid on the ground. Fingers twitching a bit, not sure whether you were even still alive.
The doors opened as Beelzebub entered once more. Still broken from last time, you used all your strength to sit up. – “Are we ready to speak yet?” – he asked coming nearer. You kept quiet, glaring at him. Beelzebub kicked you back. You felt the force of his foot in your side as you crashed onto the hard floor. He set his foot on your wrist as your hand wriggled underneath it. – “Speak!” – he ordered out, flies buzzing around his head.
You cried in pain trying to get his foot off your wrist. Beelzebub groaned loud, removing his foot from your wrist. He gave your stomach a hard stomp with his foot. Making you curl up like a ball, crying in pain. – “You’ll die if you don’t speak.” – he told you. You weakly tried to pull yourself up, holding a hand against your bruised ribs. – “Then you’ll never get the information you need.” – you responded out of breath. Beelzebub showing you his teeth in anger.
“Let’s see how long you can keep quiet.” – he held his hand out, giving you excruciating pain once more. The cells filled with your screams as they were hearable from upstairs. Caliban who sat in his throne, barely affected by them as he continued to polish his crown. Beelzebub lowered his hand as you were worn out. Being tortured for a few days now in a row. You felt your body weaken. Not sure how much longer you could be so strong-willed. Panting loud, you barely could keep your head up. – “Well girl?” – he called out ready to give you more pain. – “Stop.” – you panted out. Beelzebub kept his hand down, tilting his head a bit.
“The… the Spellman’s…” – you breathed out needing a lot of strength to form your words. – “Yes.” – Beelzebub said excitedly. Then you started laughing. Manically as if you had lost all sanity. Beelzebub watched you in confusion. In anger that you had fooled him, he rose his hand. Causing you to suffocate on your own blood in your mouth. Gagging on the blood, you coughed loud. The blood getting spewed on across his face. Beelzebub got up, stumbling back. The blood staining your chin as you let your head fall down. He gave your body a soft kick to see any reaction.
You barely reacted, having fainted from the immense pain. Unable to get any information out of you, he returned to the throne room. Day after day. Week after week Beelzebub would visit your cells. Forcing you to speak about the Spellman’s. Each time you remained silent. Not uttering a word. Every silence was greeted with torment. Slowly weaking you till eventually you would break anyways. It was almost admirable how long you could withhold the torment. Any other human would’ve broken after the first few days. Beelzebub gained no progress with you as he begged the prince of Hell for another way. The prince of Hell had enough of Beelzebub’s failures as he assigned himself for the duties.
Weakened you lifted your head up. – “Your late Beelzebub.” – you breathed out as he wasn’t as punctual as usual. It took you a few moments to realize someone else had entered your cells. The prince of hell squatted down, taking a good look at you. He clicked his tongue, holding your head back to see your face. He let your head fall as you nearly fell over. – “I must say you are persistent Y/n.” – he said watching you. – “And who the hell are you?” – you breathed out having to do your upmost best to keep your head up.
The young man smiled. – “Caliban. Prince of hell.” – he addressed himself proudly. – “Beelzebub worn out? Pity I’ll miss him.” – you mocked with a chuckle. Caliban stroked his chin. – “You wouldn’t be laughing much more Y/n when I have my way with you.” – he spoke. – “Do your worst.” – you taunted him. Caliban gave your forehead a little push as it made you fall backwards. – “Looks like I don’t have to do much…” – he sighed out a little disappointing.
Caliban started tapping you against your cheek. – “Hey, hey Y/n! Wake up!” – he said wanting you awake for his torture. You weakly opened your eyes once more as he helped you sit up. Holding his hand on top of your head. – “Now Y/n, let’s have a chat about the Spellman’s.” – he started as your eyes widened feeling an immense pain in your head. Screaming it out as Caliban was smiling widely.
Inhaling deep he enjoyed to hear the pleasures of your pain and agony. Caliban let go of you as you fell down to the side. – “Done already? I’ve just begun Y/n.” – he teased. He nudged you against your body for you to wake up. When you weren’t moving much, he sighed irritated. Having nothing else to do, he got up, leaving once more.
Now every time you were tortured it was Caliban that blessed your cells with his presence. – “Y/n don’t make this harder than it is. Just speak.” – he would sigh out keeping you upright. – “Just kill me.” – you muttered out, having enough. Caliban’s eyes widened. – “What was that Y/n?” – he mocked with a smile. – “Stop…” – you breathed out unable to keep your eyes open. Losing the control over your body, your head fell forwards against his shoulder.
Caliban’s hand froze mid-air at the sudden touch from you. Your head slid to the side, losing contact with his shoulder. Your head was falling as Caliban caught you before your head could hit the ground. Staring down at you, he wondered what he was doing. Seeing your worn out expression. The clear bruises on your face and all over your body. As he knew some where his doing.
With a pained expression he let his hand brush up your cheek. – “Y/n?” – he whispered. You remained lifeless in his arms. Caliban slowly pulled your body up to his chest, cradling you. Overcome with a sense of shame and sorriness. He couldn’t hurt you anymore. You had suffered enough by his hand and Beelzebub’s. Caliban staid by your side till you gained conscious again. You were surprised to see him there. – “Easy Y/n.” – he said caringly making sure you were being careful. It made you feel a bit wary off him.
He gave you water and some bread to gain a bit of your strength. – “Is this a new technique? Show your prisoner kindness before killing them?” – you said keeping a close eye on him. Caliban shook his head. – “No… I…I am not going to hurt you anymore.” – he said making you stare surprised at him. – “I’m returning you to earth.” – he added. – “What… what about the Spellman’s?” – you answered, knowing he wanted information off them.
Caliban shook his head. – “I’m taking you home safely.” – he placed your hand caringly over yours. – “What… what about the others?” – you responded unsure. – “I am the prince of hell, they obey me.” – Caliban said with a certain airy vibe. – “Can you stand?” - he asked. You nodded, letting him help you up. Caliban undid you off your shackles as it felt good to be released from them. The bruise marks clear around your wrists. Caliban took your hands in his, observing the bruise marks.
Bringing your hands to his mouth, he kissed your knuckles. Lowering your hands, he came to your side, supporting you as he led you out of the cells. You were going on a slow pace as it felt weird to walk after being chained up for so long. Caliban held you tight, making sure you wouldn’t slip out of his grip. – “Keep your strength Y/n.” – he said walking slowly with you through the corridors. Caliban and you rounded a corner as you sunk through your knees. Caliban going down with you as he tumbled over some equipment.
Grunting loud, he turned over feeling a sting of pain in his chest. You gasped loud, seeing a cut on his chest. Brown liquid dripping down the wide cut. – “You are hurt!” – you called out moving to him. Caliban look down his chest, seeing the clear cut. It made him groan even louder. – “It is nothing.” – he answered, widening his eyes as you started ripping the bottom of your shirt. – “Hold still.” – you told him, pressing the piece of cloth against his cut. You moved his arm up, to go around his chest to tie it.
Caliban watched in wonder as you helped in. It pained him to see that despite everything you were still helping him. – “I hope it doesn’t sting too much.” – you said with a smile. Caliban held his hand against your cheek. – “You are a remarkable creature Y/n.” – he breathed out with admiration. – “Showing me kindness when I have shown you none.” – he went on. – “You have shown kindness to me by bringing me home.” – you responded, helping him back up. For Caliban was talking you home.
Fandom: The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina
Pairing: Caliban x Reader
Warnings: Violence, death + resurrection
Notes: Part I ♥ Here’s part two! Hope you all like it!
Your relationship with Caliban did not remain a secret for long. Your sister was the first to know.
As you jogged over to her at the carnival the following weekend, you said, “Sister, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that I know how the Plague Kings’ plan to overthrow you. They’ll be keeping an eye on you for any missteps, and once given probable cause, they will force you and Caliban to embark on a quest to retrieve the Unholy Regalia.”
She was visibly stunned, and understandably so. “That’s great! But how did you find all that out?”
“That would be the bad news.”
As if on cue, Caliban then materialized, and wrapped an arm around your waist – which was immediately noticed by Sabrina.
“What did you rope my sister into?” she snarled at Caliban, but you held up a hand to silence them both before the bickering began.
“Caliban came to me and stated that he wished to court me. I first tried to convince him to end the coup in exchange for courtship, but he explained that even if he wanted to, he is unable to stop the Kings. So, instead, the exchange became useful information for courtship.”
“Mhmm,” Sabrina mused disbelievingly, glaring at the man at your side. “And for how long does she have to date you?”
“The only requirement to fulfill our agreement is a single date, hence our presence at this mortal affair,” Caliban answered, then smiled warmly at you. “After that, the status of our courtship is up to my lady.”
“Oh. Well, that’s not so bad,” Sabrina muttered, then shrugged as she turned to you. “At least you can get this night over with and never have to see him again.”
“In all honesty… I am not entirely opposed to seeing him again,” you admitted hesitantly, and Sabrina’s jaw dropped slightly as her brows furrowed in agitation. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, Sister. For Satan’s sake, have you seen him? He’s more than a little easy on the eyes.”
Caliban chuckled, both at your compliment and your sister’s obvious annoyance. “Come, little dove. Let us explore this fanciful event.”
Though the evening had been a delight, and you enjoyed your time with your date, you couldn’t help but notice that Caliban seemed slightly on edge all night. After the sun had gone down, and you’d surveyed the majority of the carnival, Caliban requested to take you to dinner in a nice restaurant. You agreed, and he thoroughly surprised you by taking you to a quiet, romantic rooftop restaurant in Italy, having remembered you stating that Italian was your favorite food. It was the following morning before you realized that he’d been sensing the impending danger of Herod’s attack. Coincidentally, he had disappeared for a short while during dinner, and although he’d claimed to have gone to the restroom, you learned from Sabrina the following morning that he’d actually returned to Greendale to collect King Herod's crown.
Naturally, the two of you had bickered about him cheating your sister the next time you were together, but his soft lips and skilled hands had done wonders to dissipate your anger. Although you refused to admit it, you were positively hooked from thereon out.
You told yourself that you continued the dates and the trysts simply because it was merely an enjoyable pastime. But in truth, it was because you were slowly falling for the prince. Knowing it was a mistake due to his allegiance to Hell, and his position as the enemy of your sister, created a forbidden nature to the romance, and it only made you crave him more.
Little did you know, Caliban felt the same for you. Your smile set his soul aflame, and your laughter made his chest tighten with affection. The sight of your hair fanned across your pillow, mouth slightly agape in pleasure, was not one he would ever grow tired of. He had fallen well and truly in love with you.
This information was kept secret from one another, because both of you were scared to admit such a thing and risk scaring the other away.
It wasn’t long after your mutual realizations that he met your aunts and Ambrose. Although they were all pleased to have met the object of your affection, and they remained civil with him, it was evident that each member of your family distrusted him, and questioned his intentions with you.
Their distrust turned out to be short-lived.
Immediately following your coven’s Hare Moon celebration, one of the Pagans had developed a very intense dislike for you. All it took was for her to sense that you were a very powerful member of your kind – that is, until your powers faded – and she, being a harpy, notorious for their insatiable hunger and lust for torture, had decided that she would feast upon your witch flesh as her next meal.
It was that evening when she appeared. You had been relaxing on the front porch of the Spellman Mortuary, and at first, you thought she was merely a mortal woman – then her wings spread out from behind her as her glamour faded, bird-like legs sprouted from her torso, and her face became hideous, decayed and rotting. You had instinctively tried to run, but it was futile. After all, harpies were originally thought to be the personification of wind, so it was unsurprising that you were in her clutches before you even made it to the door.
The harpy’s sharp talons dug into your shoulders, and you screamed for help as she launched you into the yard. You fell flat on your back, which knocked the wind out of you, and she was on you again in the blink of an eye. As you felt the most impossibly intense, agonizing pain across your abdomen, you screamed again as you glanced down and realized she had torn you open. She began feasting on your flesh and organs, blood dripping from her claws as she ravaged you.
You were vaguely aware of a horrified scream from Sabrina somewhere behind you. She had just swung open the front door of the Spellman household to see the ghastly scene before her, Aunt Zelda, Aunt Hilda, and Ambrose right behind her. With a roar of pure rage, Ambrose charged at the harpy with his blade drawn, which drew her away from you. Sabrina and Hilda then kneeled beside you, the former with tears in her eyes and a terrified look on her face as she held your hand, and the latter clearly trying to hide her panic as she unsuccessfully attempted to heal you. But your injuries were far too extensive, and your loved ones’ magick was far too weak.
The unmistakable sound of a gunshot pierced through the night air, and you weakly turned your head to see Aunt Zelda holding a shotgun, Ambrose a few feet from your attacker, and the harpy lying dead on the ground. The two then ran over to you, both dropping to their knees at your side, their faces just as solemn and fearful as Sabrina and Aunt Hilda.
It was then, looking upon the panic-stricken faces of your family, that you knew you were going to die.
Darkness began to cloud your vision, and you vaguely heard your sister sobbing, and aunts and cousin begging you to stay conscious, giving you empty promises that they would find a way to fix this, and that everything would be alright. In the midst of all their hysterics, it seemed an idea donned on Sabrina.
“Caliban!” she screamed desperately into the night, her voice breaking from the force as she put behind it.
He appeared instantly, the usual vortex of flames escorting him onto the scene. He opened his mouth, no doubt to make a smug retort to Sabrina’s unceremonious summoning, before his eyes fell on you.
“No,” Caliban whispered in disbelief, still frozen on the spot. Blood poured from your abdomen, and the sight of you torn open and half-dead filled him with a sense of gripping terror and worry he had never before experienced. He ran over to you, skidding to a stop on his knees and gently cradling your head in his hands.
“Do something!” Sabrina begged, a sob raking her body. Caliban panicked for a split second, then a solution came to him. It was a last ditch effort kind of plan, but seeing as your eyes had already drifted shut, and your body was growing colder by the second, he knew that he must do something that would absolutely ensure your survival.
“With a desperate heart and no time to waste, I call upon all three Fates!”
In a cloud of smoke, three hooded figures appeared. Each had clouded eyes, long white hair, and greenish-gray, wrinkled skin.
“Fates, I beseech you to save this woman’s life,” Caliban pleaded.
“In exchange for our aid, you must give up the fate you have been pursuing so fiercely.” The Fates spoke in unison, their voices raspy and eerie. “You must cease your pursuit of the throne of Hell, and no longer seek to make Earth the tenth circle.”
“I shall. Here and now, I end my quest to become King of Hell, and remake the Earth as the tenth circle,” Caliban vowed. The lack of hesitation and conviction in his voice astounded each of the Spellman’s, although that was but a minor thought in the back of their minds at the moment. “Just save the woman I love, please.”
The Fates disappeared without another word in another cloud of smoke, at the same moment that a ragged, desperate gasp tore from your lips. The Spellman’s and Caliban all snapped their eyes back down to you. The fatal wound had been healed, and even your clothing was fixed. You sat bolt upright, as if you’d just been necromanced back to life – and, technically, you had. As you looked around at your loved ones, the realization that you were alive and safe sunk in, and you immediately began to cry.
“I saw Dad. I saw him,” you sobbed pitifully, and your family took you into their arms. You despised how weak you sounded, but seeing your father was something you were entirely unprepared for. Caliban rubbed his palm up and down your back, not wanting to interfere with your familial embrace. Still crying into Auntie Zee’s chest, you explained, “I died. I died and Dad was there waiting for me. He hugged me and told me that he was happy to see me, but it wasn’t my time yet.”
It was several minutes before you were able to compose yourself, although you supposed that was somewhat to be expected for someone who had just died then came back to life. After your aunts wiped your tears, you turned around to look at Caliban.
“I know you had something to do with this. We’re all powerless right now, so that is the only explanation,” you whispered. “What did you do?”
Caliban hesitated a moment, so Ambrose answered for him.
“He called upon the Fates. They demanded that he give up the fate he has been pursuing, in order to save you. So, he vowed to give up the throne of Hell, and said it was to save the woman he loves.”
You looked slowly from Ambrose back to Caliban. He appeared slightly perturbed that Ambrose revealed what he’d said in that moment of fear-fueled vulnerability, but didn’t bother to deny it.
“Caliban… is that true?”
“As I’ve told you before: anything for you,” Caliban answered, giving you a soft smile. You threw your arms around his neck, and he immediately wrapped his around your waist.
“I love you,” you murmured, your face buried in his neck. Caliban held you tightly and pressed a kiss to your temple.
Summary: You are Sabrina's friend and brought down from the heavens. When you meet Caliban, he is very suspicious you might be more than a mortal. When Caliban and you grow closer and fall in love, you decide to tell him one day about how you are an angel. Caliban wanting nothing more but to have you all for himself, corrupts you into giving up your wings to be with him.
The sky rumbled. Thick clouds covering up the clear sky. Another rumble thundered behind the clouds. Then a light lighting up some of the clouds. It got brighter as it made the clouds part. Creating a way as the light busted out, hitting the ground hard. For a moment it lighted the brightest till it dimmed out.
The light being swallowed back up. The clouds drawing closer again. On the ground a figure kneeling till it slowly rose. Taking a deep breath. Greendale. Your newly home for as long as he ordered you. The faint glow from around you dimmed out. You took your first step. Stumbling. The next one steadier. As you walked on earth for the first time. Being far away from home.
“Hey Y/n!” – Sabrina said when she entered the library. She approached you as you were seated down reading a book with much interest. – “Hey Sabrina.” – you replied glancing briefly up from your book when she came closer to your table. She smiled at you, resting her hand on the table as you suddenly heard another voice. One you didn’t knew. – “Sabrina!” – the voice called out as you noticed Sabrina rolling with her eyes.
Clearly she didn’t like this person this much. Glancing to the side you saw a young boy approach. Blonde and very attractive. – “I wasn’t done talking to you back in ...” – the boy said as Sabrina cleared her throat stopping the last of his words. She hinted with her head at you as the boy chuckled humorously.
“A memory wipe can be easy on your mortal friend Sabrina.” – he said all cocky. – “Caliban!” – Sabrina groaned out, clearly annoyed with him. – “Yet.” – Caliban continued approaching your table. You lowered your book when he set his hand by your side, coming to hover over your shoulder. He took a deep breath, taking in your smell. – “This mortal doesn’t smell mortal enough.”
You grabbed your book, lifted it up and slapped it up right in Caliban’s face. It startled him, making him stumble back and away from you. – “Personal space is a thing creep!” – you called out, shoving your chair back. Sabrina snickered silently as Caliban was touching his nose where you had hit him. You had gotten up, keeping the book under your armpit. Coming face to face with the creep that was sniffing you. Now you had a clear look of him. And he off you. – “Feisty that one is.” – he said to Sabrina.
Sabrina pulled her shoulders up with an innocent smile. You threw him a sarcastic smile to annoy him. – “So not so mortal, who are you?” – he wanted to know, dying with curiosity. There was something about you that was a mystery. There were some parts of you human, but not all. Something supernatural. When you remained silent went Caliban down in a bow. – “Caliban, prince of hell!” – he exaggerated with some flair.
Sabrina sighed loud with a roll of her eyes. – “Pleasure.” – you responded dull and unbothered. Caliban chuckled nervously when you didn’t seem impressed at all. – “And yours? Who are you?” – he asked taking a step closer to you. – “Wouldn’t you like to know.” – you answered witty taking your leave. Caliban stared stunned back at you. – “Sabrina?” – he asked, pleading with her for answers. Sabrina pulled her shoulders and hands up, not getting involved with it.
After a few classes you went up to your locker. Shutting the door, you were surprised by Caliban standing by your locker. A smug smile on his lips. – “So?” – he said leaning with his hand against the lockers. – “Must I guess or drag it out of you?” – he offered. You laughed at his eagerness. – “I’ll give you my name if you get on your knees and beg.” – you said just to tease him.
Caliban blinked surprised but then slowly went down to one knee, palms up as if bringing you a piece offering. – “Oh my!” – you said astonished that he was foolish enough to do so. You laughed loud, turning around and leaving before his other knee could touch the ground. – “But…” – Caliban muttered out, watching you leave.
“What are you doing?” – he turned his head seeing Sabrina stare confused at him. – “Nothing.” – Caliban replied bitsy, getting up quickly. Still snickering you clutched your books closer to your chest. It was kind of fun seeing the prince of hell throw himself at you like that. If only he knew you were his opposite. Pure and light.
A few days later you were at the library again. A hidden section in a corner at an hour most had gone home. You were reading informative when you heard a whish of flames burning. You immediately shut your book, sliding it down on your lap. For it could only be one person that appeared out of thin air like that. – “So here you are hiding, not so mortal.” – you heard Caliban speak as his footsteps approached from behind.
He set his hand down on the table again, coming to hover over your shoulder. He brought his head down against your ear. – “So you like playing games.” – he whispered as it felt intimate and fluttering. – “Only with you.” – you teased letting your head fall back to look at him. Caliban came hovering over your face with his, smiling flirtatious. – “For a name I shall get on my knees, I will go to hell and bring you the brightest jewel just to hear your name from your lips.” – he spoke making you smile.
“Please don’t.” – you chuckled out bringing your head back. You got up making Caliban move back to give you space. You went to a bookshelf, placing the book you had read back before Caliban could notice it. Caliban picked up another book, opening it uninterested. – “So what must I do?” – he asked. – “To hear that glorious name of yours.” – he added coming nearer.
You turned back to him, leaning against the bookcase. – “Why? Is the prince of hell interested in a mortal?” – you asked as he kept coming closer. He shut the book, dropping it on the table before he neared you. His arm he rested above your head against the bookshelf. – “Very.” – he spoke lowly. You felt yourself supress a squeal at how flirtatious that was of him.
“Not so mortal.” – he finished tilting your chin a bit back with his thumb. You took a deep breath, debating hard. Yet there was no harm in sharing a name. That still didn’t gave away what you truly were. One send from above, his sworn enemy. – “Y/n.” – you told him. Caliban’s smile widened. He was still touching your chin with his thumb. – “Y/n, a name for a princess.”
You punched him in the armpit for being so ridiculous. Caliban only chuckled as if not effected by the pain. You pushed him away returning to the table. From behind you, you could hear him mumble your name. Saying it like a mantra over and over. As if he thought he’d forget about it. It made you snicker quietly at how ridiculously cute it was. – “Caliban, saying my name three times isn’t going to summon me like bloody Mary!” – you called out to him.
Caliban smiled sheepishly, being caught by you. He hastened himself to your side, pulling a chair back to sit down with you. – “Maybe I like saying it. Y/n.” – he spoke leaning with his chin on his hand. You rolled your eyes at him. Caliban gawked in disbelieve at you. – “Don’t roll your eyes at me, not so mortal.” – he said grabbing your wrist and holding it down on the table.
His sense of immaturity only made you laugh louder. – “Don’t mock me not so mortal Y/n!” – he called out pulling at your wrist. You fell forwards coming face to face with him. Noses inches away from each other. Laughter had stopped as you could only remain still before pulling aware away. Hoping your cheeks weren’t too flushed.
Walking home that night, you gently tapped your hand against your forehead. – “Stop, stop, stop.” – you muttered out trying to knock some sense into you. – “Stop liking him.” – you slapped yourself hard, a bit too hard, making you rub the area with shame. Taking a deep breath you kept telling yourself to not fall for him. No good would come from it. The prince of hell with an angel from the heavens.
Not falling for Caliban was hard. Harder than any other task you had even been given. He wasn’t even school bound yet he kept appearing out of nowhere just to see you. His acts towards you were always full of flirts and charm. There had been a few close encounters where you had almost kissed him. The urge haven grown so desperate, you barely had any control over yourself.
Caliban was doing something to you and you couldn’t stop it. It was too late for that. There was no point in denying it that you liked Caliban and that he liked you in return. Perhaps telling him the truth about yourself wouldn’t be such a bad idea. You felt comfortable and loved enough around him to share your true self. You would do anything for him. That is how deep you had fallen for him. The prince of hell had you on your knees.
It was getting darker as Caliban was walking you home. Biting your lip, you took his hand, pulling him away from the main road over some grass fields. – “This isn’t your usual route home.” – he commented, blindly following you. – “I know.” – you answered going over a pumpkin patch, watching out carefully to not step on one. – “So where are we going Y/n?” – he asked nearly stepping on a pumpkin.
You remained silent walking over to a near small forest. You needed to be away from spying eyes if you were to reveal your true self to Caliban. Near an abandoned playground in the woods you came to a halt. – “Romantic.” – Caliban commented with a chuckle as you shushed him. – “Caliban, you were right, I’m not a mortal.” – you told him. – “I knew it!” – he called out with glory. – “I smelled it on you right away.” – you slapped him to stop interrupting you.
“Caliban listen!” – you made clear. You took a deep breath as Caliban could only stare at you. Was perhaps finally his burning desire off knowing going to be fulfilled? – “I’m going to show you who I truly am, but please don’t feel repulsed.” – you begged him. – “How can I be repulsed by you, princess?” – he answered brushing his fingers down your cheek.
You took his hands taking a step back. You closed your eyes. Caliban stared in awe at you when you started to glow. Light up with a soft bright light. Then with the sound of feathers appeared two white wings from your back. Opening briefly to its full length, before settling behind you. Caliban gawked in love at you. Going down on his knees for you as he bestowed upon your light. – “I am a child of the heavens.” – you told him after having opened your eyes once more.
“You are angelic Y/n.” – he complimented in wonder. He kissed your glowing hands making you smile flustered. Aware of your own self and Caliban’s nature, you looked saddened away. The heavens and the hell couldn’t be together. They never could. Caliban noticed the sadness on your face. He got back up stroking your cheek with his thumb. – “I want you so badly Y/n, but He and Lucifer will never allow us to be.” – Caliban spoke. – “I want you too.” – you answered bringing his hand down from your cheek to hold.
“What if we keep it secret?” – you asked. Caliban shook his head. – “Yours and mine, would never let it pass. He will cut off your wings for loving a hell bound prince.” – he went on. – “He is forgiving.” – you told Caliban. – “He is not, not about this. We shouldn’t be.” – Caliban pushed your hand away, turning himself away. – “No!” – you called out as Caliban smirked half.
“I want to be with you. I want to be yours. I love you Caliban.” – you said desperately wanting him back. – “I love you too Y/n, but your wings prevent us from being together.” – he said saddened. – “Then I don’t want them!” – you shouted. Caliban smiled. His corruption working. – “Are you sure? There is no return Y/n.” – he had turned himself back to you. You nodded. – “I love you, I don’t want my wings if I can’t be yours.” – you told him clearly.
Caliban smiled cupping your cheek. – “Then be my princess.” – he whispered before kissing you. The moment your lips touched his, your wings started to disintegrate. The glow on you fading out to nothing. But a mortal appearance you had. Letting the change pass by you, you kept kissing Caliban. Now I have you for eternity Caliban thought.
Notes: I’ve been thirsty for this blond bastard since he popped up in the show, so it’s about time I write for him. // So this is slightly OC, because the reader is a Spellman and it gives some backstory on that, but I still tried to keep it predominantly a reader insert.
As the only trueborn daughter of Edward Spellman, conceived during his very brief, loveless marriage to his late bride, you had grown accustomed to being treated differently. Your aunties fretted over you endlessly, despite being well aware of the fact that you were an extremely proficient witch. You were given unearned, unquestioned respect by each member of the Church of Night, as well as every witch and warlock you met. Typically, they asked you endless questions, being that your father had intended for you to be his successor, prior to his untimely death and Faustus Blackwood’s treachery-ridden rise to the position of High Priest. This meant that you had been a sponge for each and every one of Edward’s theories, teachings, and creeds, as well as his extensive knowledge of spells, conjuring, potions, and other witchcraft.
You prided yourself on being a witch of above-average skill and know-how, although that did not mean you were keen on being subjected to impromptu interviews about it all. Additionally, it seemed as though every single creature you encountered knew your father, which often meant they were twice as heaven-bent on killing you, as he had not been one to take mercy on monsters. All in all, it was rare that you were treated as you – not Edward Spellman’s daughter.
That is, until you encountered a certain self-proclaimed Prince of Hell.
Of course, you had been vehemently against Sabrina entering the Netherworld to save her boyfriend. However, you were aware that her determination knows no bounds, so she’d certainly be going with or without your approval, therefore you decided it’d be best to join her endeavor. Upon entering Hell, you, your sister, and her companions found yourselves on a somber, despondent beach, and a medley of wails filled your ears – which could only mean one thing.
“Wait, so… Hell is a beach?” Harvey inquired dubiously.
“Not quite. Hell is a vast realm, full of a myriad of abysmal regions, and this is merely one of them. In particular: the Shores of Sorrow,” you explained. This new information seemed to distress him further. Theo stood, fear in his eyes as he looked to the cages standing out on the water.
“Guys, look…. What are those?”
“They’re the souls of the damned,” you responded, in unison with another voice. At first, you thought it was some sort of echo, but quickly deduced that it was a separate voice entirely. You turned to see a man standing a short distance away on the beach, and your first thought was that he was so beautiful that he looked monumentally out of place in this dreary landscape. He was quite tall, with lovely green eyes, blonde ringlets cascading around his handsome face, and a body that looked to be hand-crafted by Aphrodite herself.
The visually pleasing stranger held searing eye contact with you as he took a few steps toward your group. He seemed intrigued by the fact that you – someone who was clearly not from Hell – was familiar with your locale.
“They drown as the tide rolls in, over and over… for all eternity,” he elaborated, as your party approached him. He surveyed your sister and her friends, then returned his eyes to you with a charming smirk. “Although, I’m certain you already knew that.”
“Hi, we’re looking for Lilith,” Sabrina stated. “Uh… Madam Satan, Queen of Hell. She’s in Pandemonium, if you happen to know the way.”
“I would be more than happy to assist anyone accompanying a woman of such intellect and ethereal beauty,” the man stated, charm dripping from his voice as his eyes remained set on you. You would not deny that he was easily the most attractive man you’d ever seen, but you were also conscious of the fact that you were in Hell, therefore he was almost certainly a demon – not exactly ideal dating material. So, you merely met his gaze, donning a smirk of your own, crossing your arms gracefully, and giving a slight tilt of the head to wordlessly meet the challenge posed by his advances.
“All blood flows to Pandemonium. Follow the blood-red road where it flows, and there you’ll find the throne of Hell,” he responded, after your silent exchange, as he gestured toward a small creek of blood nearby.
“Thanks,” Sabrina said, nodding. “And you are?”
“We greatly appreciate your kindness, sir, but I’m afraid we’ve no time for formalities,” you interjected. It was just as well, as the man seemed hesitant of answering her query.
“Understandable. Although, I do hope to cross paths with you again,” he admitted, then took a step forward to take your hand and bring your knuckles to his lips, maintaining eye contact with you as he did so. He then turned to your sister. “Never step off the road. It’s clever you’re wearing dead men’s shoes, though… any demon worth his salt can smell mortal flesh a mile away.”
The two of you shared one last, lingering look, then he slowly spun on his heel and returned his attention to the nearby elaborate sandcastle.
“Come on. Let’s go,” Sabrina said, and the five of you made your way to the flowing blood.
After a not-so-pleasant stroll through the Field of Witness, and the Forest of Torment, where you searched with Theo and Harvey as Sabrina and Roz located Dorian’s pestilential flower, as well as an excursion to a hellish version of Sabrina’s high school, you found yourselves in the throne room of Pandemonium. Lilith decided to allow Sabrina to leave with Nicholas, so long as she would crown Lilith in front of all of Hell. She agreed to do so, but as soon as the ceremony began, it was evident that the Kings were still displeased.
“And who do you propose would rule?” Lilith asked.
“Ahh,” Beelzebub responded, and it was clear that Lilith had stepped right into his trap. “All hail Caliban, Prince of Hell. Molded from the clay of the pit itself. Native son of the inferno, born to restore and rule our dark domain.”
To your surprise, the good-looking blond from the Shores of Sorrow stepped forward, clad in a different outfit, one more suitable for Hell, and smiled at your sister. “Hello again.”
“Uh… hi?”
This Caliban explained that he intended to restore stability to the Nine Realms, and ultimately, conquer the Earth to make it the tenth circle. Unsurprisingly, your sister was simply not having it. She claimed the throne as her own, shut down Caliban’s refutation, and decreed that the Infernal Court be dismissed.
As Caliban turned to go, he locked eyes with you. With a small smirk, he stated, “It appears our paths will cross again, enchantress.” He left through the colossal double-doors of the throne room, and silence befell the room, before you all left, Nicholas Scratch in tow.
Upon returning to your room for the evening, you laid in bed, unable to sleep and staring at the ceiling. Although you attempted to steer your train of thought to more important matters, such as how to help the coven and what it would mean for Sabrina to be the Queen of Hell, you found your mind veering back the dashing young “prince.” Aside from the fact that he’s a demon, and that he sought to descend Earth to chaos and enslavement, he had challenged your sister – and that simply wouldn’t do. So, you conceded that you must push your unwelcome thoughts to the side, such as how his eyes made you feel vulnerable and on fire all at once, or how pretty that alluring voice of his would sound in the bedroom…. Hell help you, you were going to need to try much harder than this.
A sudden whooshing sound and a bright light brought your attention to the corner of the room, and as the vortex of fire dissipated, you saw none other than the object of your desires standing before you.
“To what do I owe the pleasure? Here to berate my baby sister some more?”
“No. I am here for you.”
You sat up in the bed, then swung your legs off the side, staring at him quizzically. You noticed that Caliban eyed your attire hungrily, and you briefly thanked yourself for choosing a red silk nightie with black lace trim this evening. Opting to bask in the feeling of him undressing you with his eyes, you stood and crossed your arms over your chest – both to show resolution, and to accentuate your chest. His gaze grew ever more ravenous.
“Speak your piece, then.”
“I wish to court you,” Caliban stated coolly, that smirk of his gracing his lips.
“And why is that?”
“You have piqued my interest. Your beauty is beyond compare, and your intelligence and self-assuredness are both endearing and intriguing. I am quite taken with you,” Caliban admitted, now perusing your bedroom and investigating your elaborate bookshelves. He then turned to you, and in a few strides, he was standing in front of you, towering over you as those enthralling green eyes seemingly bore into your soul.
“Allow me to court you. I vow to do my utmost to make you happy, and keep you unquestionably…” he trailed off, bending down to hover his lips mere centimeters above yours as he finished his sentence, “... satisfied.”
You did not miss the way your breath caught in your throat as a result of his actions – nor did Caliban. It caused his smirk to widen further. Nevertheless, you squared your shoulders and looked up at him with all the confidence you could muster.
“Stand down from your attempted coup d'état of Sabrina’s place on the throne, and I will gladly court you, Caliban.”
“Although my name falling so sweetly from your lips is enough to persuade me of almost anything, I’m afraid that I cannot comply with your request, princess,” Caliban responded. “But, if bartering is the ticket to courting you, then so be it. Even if I wanted to, it is impossible for me to stop the Plague Kings’ quest to unseat Sabrina Morningstar and Lilith, but I can let you in on how they plan to do so, which will allow your sister time to prepare for it. And if the Kings or Lilith ask, you didn’t hear a word of that from me.”
You pretended to mull it over for a moment. If you were being honest, it wasn’t exactly twisting your arm to go out with someone as mind-bogglingly attractive as Caliban, so having the opportunity to do so and help Sabrina certainly seemed to be a win-win.
“I agree to your terms.”
“Excellent,” he said, his smirk changing to a toothy grin, flashing a set of perfect pearly whites. He seemed genuinely thrilled that you agreed to court him. “You may inform Sabrina that the Kings intend to evaluate her progress as Queen of Hell for a short time, and if she fails to meet their expectations, they shall send she and I on a quest to find the Unholy Regalia. Whoever is the victor shall earn a rightful place on the throne, by infernal law. So, I would advise that Sabrina watch her p’s and q’s for the next few weeks, but still prepare for the inevitable quest for the Regalia.”
“Thank you, Caliban.”
“Anything for you,” he responded, taking your hand and placing a kiss upon your knuckles, as he had earlier that day, before cradling it in both of his hands. “Now, where would you like to go for our first outing, little dove?”
“I have heard rumors of a carnival coming to town this weekend. Take me?”
“It would be my pleasure,” Caliban said earnestly, then sat down languidly on the ornate velvet couch immediately behind him, and gently pulled you down to sit with him. “In the meantime, I would very much like to get to know you better, if it would please the lady.”
The remainder of the evening was spent on that very same couch, with the self-proclaimed Prince of Hell. The longer you talked, the closer you grew in proximity, until you were nestled against his side with your legs tucked underneath you, his arm draped around your shoulders. Caliban listened intently as you told him about your life, and he readily told you tales of his own past and answered all your questions. A large percentage of the conversation entailed you explaining earthly matters to the Hell-born gentleman, and he was genuinely interested in all the information you had to offer. It was incredibly refreshing for someone to be interested solely in you – not your father’s legacy.
After a while, your eyelids began to feel unbearably heavy, and eventually, you succumbed to sleep, your head falling onto his shoulder. As Caliban looked down at your sleeping figure, after sharing an invigorating, intimate night of soul-sharing, he vaguely wondered of the possibility of love for a man made of clay.
The warm, fuzzy feeling now forming in his chest was all the answer he needed.
