Jan 1, 2022
The CAoS Rewrite so far, but I give you no context.
@devilfromparadis @rewritingthename
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The CAoS Rewrite so far, but I give you no context.
@devilfromparadis @rewritingthename
Infernal VIII
Summary: In your sleepy little town of Greendale, nothing ever slept for long. And ever since October, everything felt like it was waking up. Everything except for you, that is. One teensy trip to Hell (and an infuriatingly cute guy) later and suddenly you felt wide awake.
Word-count: 3.4k+
Masterlist Prev. | Part 8
Ever since you were eleven years old, you’d been going to the Paramount once a week with Theo to share a large popcorn with m&ms poured over the top, two large sodas, and the biggest bag of Sour Patch Kids that money from dog walking, tutoring, and scrounging between the couch cushions could buy. The dark was a blanket of safety and anonymity for an hour or two, and you loved it more than anything. It was two hours of you, Theo, and whatever rerun was showing that weekend. One of only two movie theatres in Greendale, The Paramount stood as a testament to friendship and the enduring power of bad cinema.
Sharing the Paramount and all its memories with Caliban was nerve-wracking.
If he noticed your non-stop fidgeting, he didn’t say anything. He was perfectly composed as he watched stressed out parents corral their screaming children - shoulders relaxed, mouth upturned, and hand easily laced through yours.
“You know, I never cared much for children,” he said. He suppressed a laugh when one of the kids threw pieces of popcorn at their dad. “But I’m starting to think they may not be such loathsome little creatures after all. Given a little direction, they could surpass any of Hell’s torturers.”
You would have laughed at his joke if you’d been listening, but you were too busy watching the specials board light up his face red, orange, and yellow that caught on the edges of his hair. “Is this your first date?” you asked.
Caliban raised an eyebrow as he turned to you and you stammered out an explanation. Impulse control had never been one of your strong suits, and it had been on the decline lately. Putting you out of your misery with a sly smile, he said, “Yes.”
“Wait-” you tugged on his hand slightly as the two of you moved forward in the line “-does that mean I’m your first kiss?”
Caliban laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “My first kiss was with a succubus.”
You weren’t sure what kind of answer you were expecting, but that particular one caught you off guard. “Oh. That’s pretty cool. Do you guys keep in touch?”
“Are you in touch with your first kiss?” Caliban asked, throwing another smile at you as the two of you walked over the counter. He let you order and pay in peace, but he asked again when you were flavoring the popcorn, clearly amused by your awkwardness.
You were in the middle of explaining that your first kiss had been on a dare at one of the worst, least supervised birthday parties you’d ever been to when someone bumped into and spilled your popcorn all over the floor. They kept walking.
They only cleared a few feet before the Darkness lashed out and you yelled at them. “Hey! Are you going to apologize?”
You recognized them once they turned around. He was one of the kids from the lacrosse team who’d bullied Theo back in freshman year. With possibly the fakest smile you’d seen, Charlie said, “Chill. It was an accident.”
“Apologize.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Say you’re sorry.”
His body relaxed and his eyes took on a familiar glassy, hollow quality as he mumbled an apology. You smiled.
“Good.” You took a step forward to close the distance between you. “Now give me your wallet.” He did so without a word, the charm overwhelming any reservations he may have had. He faltered slightly when you took out most of the cash, but you told him to be quiet. With a smile, you handed his wallet back to him. “Enjoy your movie.”
Charlie blinked twice, slowly, but then he nodded. “You too,” he said uncertainly. He stumbled down the hall and looked at you again as he rounded a corner, completely dumbstruck.
You waved at him, turning back to Caliban with a smile. “Ready to watch the movie?”
The easiness from earlier was gone; Caliban’s jaw was tense and his eyes were narrowed. He didn’t move from where he leaned against the wall. “What was that?”
You shrugged. “I wanted him to apologize.”
“Are you sure that’s all you wanted?” he asked, pushing himself off the wall. His movements were easy, but his words were strained.
“Yes,” you lied, unclenching your fists. When you stole a glance at your palms, they were coated in a thin layer of darkness, smudged around the area where you’d dug your nails in to keep from knocking the false smile off Charlie’s face.
---
“Wait, so you’re like … Hannah Montana if she was a teenage witch and he’s like- what is he? Your Jesse?”
Out of all the reactions you’d imagined after telling your friends that the mother you’d spent your whole life looking for turned out to be a literal demon, a Hannah Montana comparison hadn’t even made the top ten.
“Harvey, don’t you think you’re being a little-”
To be fair, they’d handled the news about Lilith better than expected. Harvey was confused, Theo was happy you found your mom even if she’d tried to kill them all before, Sabrina helped smooth things over, and Roz admitted to having her suspicions for a while.
“What? I’m just trying to understand why the guy that tried to rule Hell and enslave us all is sitting on my couch.”
It was only when things came to Caliban that their understanding faltered. Even Sabrina, trying her best, didn't quite understand.
“I’m sitting on your couch because I was invited, Huckleberry Finn.”
After defeating the Darkness and unbinding your powers, you’d gone to Sabrina’s with a tub of ice cream and explained everything. A weight that had been slowly crushing you was lifted off your chest that night, but it came back in full force with every angry word from Harvey. It wasn’t like you’d expected him to understand, but you’d hoped he would at least try.
“Okay!” Standing up, you let out a weighty breath and held out your hands to stop them from speaking. “Will you two stop antagonizing one another for five minutes?”
Reluctantly, Caliban nodded as Harvey collapsed back in his chair and grumbled, “Fine, but I still don’t like him.”
“You don’t have to like him. You just have to respect that I like him,” you said. Harvey didn’t seem convinced, so you sighed and tried to come up with a new strategy. Finally, you stopped pacing and turned to Harvey. “Do you know what it’s like to feel like a piece of you is missing?” To Roz, “Like there’s something wrong with you because you just don’t fit in with everyone else?” To Theo, “And then you figure out what it is and you can’t tell anyone because you don’t think they’d care about you anymore if they found out?” You wiped your face haphazardly and stared at the Smashing Pumpkins poster peeling off the back wall. “It fucking sucks.”
“And I’m sorry you had to go through all that,” Harvey said, standing up and blocking your view of the poster. “I am. But you can’t expect me to be okay after finding out that you spent the last three months lying to everyone and dating that asshole.”
“I didn’t want to lie to you!” You felt the Darkness rising in your throat and did your best to push it down. Taking a deep, shaky breath, you looked back at Harvey and tried not to cry. “Is it so hard to believe that I was scared to tell you, or did you forget when you cut Sabrina out of your life when she told you?”
Harvey frowned. His hand twitched at his side as he glanced at Sabrina. “That’s not the same thing.”
“Yeah, I know, because she was the most important person in your life and I’m just the kid that lives next door.” Your voice broke and Harvey stepped forward to give you a hug. The Darkness lurched at the movement and you stepped back to keep it from hurting him. Taking another step back, you started gathering your stuff. “I can’t do this right now.”
“Hey, just hold on a second, okay?” Harvey tried to grab your wrist to stop you, and you couldn’t stop the Darkness from lashing out this time.
“Don’t touch me.”
Harvey frowned, his hand outstretched and frozen, and a familiar, glassy film cloud covered his eyes. The air was sucked out of the room as Harvey blinked and tried to recover. His hand still hung in the air. Your heart broke.
“I need to go,” you rushed out, scrambling for the door. You didn’t care about the stuff you dropped or the fact that Caliban was sitting on the couch the last you saw - all you cared about was getting out before you did anything worse. Still, you froze in the doorway. Over your shoulder, you mustered up all your courage and said, “I’m sorry.”
You weren’t sure if any of your friends heard you over their concern for Harvey or if they just didn’t want to respond, but at least Caliban caught up to you in the silence. He didn’t reach out for you for the rest of the night, all he did was stare at you with stormy, unfathomable eyes.
---
Hilda Spellman was the closest thing you’d ever had to a mother; she was warm and inviting, and always made your favorite cupcakes if you were having a bad day. She made sure that your dad always had something on the table for dinner. She took you shopping every year before school started. She let you stay in their house for almost a month when you were convinced that your bedroom was haunted. Hilda Spellman deserved nothing but happiness.
So why couldn’t you suck it up for one day and give her the perfect wedding that she deserved?
Because, despite your best efforts, you were still upset at how things had unfolded with your friends. While Theo and Roz forgave you for lying and accepted you for being a witch, they weren’t sure they could give Caliban a chance after he lashed out at Harvey. Talking to Harvey might have solved that problem, but he was pretty much set on avoiding you. You didn't blame him after what you did to him, even if he didn't know what exactly it was you did to him.
All this drama might not have been an issue otherwise, but they were the only people you knew at this wedding. So far, the only other people to show up were witches that were preoccupied with either the Uninvited or the incubus on the loose.
When you noticed Nick had disappeared from door duty, you finished your drink and set the glass down. Sliding in next to Sabrina, you bumped her arm with your elbow and held your hand out for some of the programs. “Need a hand?”
“Not really, but I’ll take the company,” she said with a smile. She handed you a stack of creamy pink programs and laughed wistfully. “Nick was supposed to help me with this but he’d rather get busy with Prudence in the coat closet.”
You tried not to laugh as you handed a program to a very solemn-looking witch. “Yeah, well, at least he’s talking to you,” you said, watching the witch disappear into the steadily growing crowd.
Sabrina rolled her eyes. “Harvey will come around,” she said, pausing to smile as she handed out another program. “He’s just scared of losing you in all this.”
“You know, Caliban actually said something similar after we left the other night.” This time, you didn’t bother hiding your laughter. Sabrina didn’t bat an eye at taking on an eldritch terror, but the possibility of Caliban having a valid point seemed to shake her to her core. “He said that I shouldn’t be so hard on Harvey because all he wants is to keep me safe, but this is the one thing that he can’t protect me from. The magic and … getting my heart broken.”
Sabrina tried to reign in her surprise, but she still seemed stunned as she handed out another program. “That … actually makes sense.”
“Weird, right?” You stole a look at the line forming outside the church and your heart ached when you saw your friends lugging their band equipment through the parking lot. It was going to be a long night.
Sabrina followed your gaze and sighed. “So ... where is Caliban? You RSVPed that you were bringing a plus-one but I don’t see him anywhere.”
You tore your eyes away from the band to hand out another program. Shaking your head, you said, “I was going to bring him, but then I figured that this was Hilda’s special day and she didn't need a fistfight between her lead singer and a plus one.”
“Well, I think you should bring him,” Sabrina said. “What? Just because I’m going to be sad and alone the whole night doesn’t mean you have to.”
So, after a quick check with Hilda, you invited Caliban. He agreed to come, if you promised to talk to him about your lesser angels creeping in.
You could feel Harvey staring at the back of your head throughout the whole ceremony, but Theo sat next to you and Robin said he’d save you guys a seat at the reception. Things were starting to look up, even if they were a little weird.
As awkward as the ceremony had been, the reception was great. Caliban was as charming as ever, winning over Theo and Robin and making witches swoon left and right. Despite all your time together, you’d never seen him this comfortable around others. A room without demons or humans, it seemed, was where you found common ground.
Until Sabrina’s toast.
She lost credibility before she even opened her mouth by stumbling up the stage steps. Opening with a joke, she had a solid two and a half seconds before she started drawing attention to every couple in the nearby vicinity - starting with Harvey and Roz, glossing over Theo and Robin to mention you and Caliban, and eventually landing on Nick and Prudence. Sabrina tried to save the toast by circling back to Hilda, but it was too late. She crashed into the drums, said she’d be single for a century and a half, and was dragged off-stage by Zelda while the Fright Club scrambled to perform their set.
Amidst the chaos, Caliban ducked his head closer to yours and brought his drink to his lips. “You know,” he said, pausing to take a sip, “If you’d told me how much fun these gatherings were, I would have come with you a long time ago.”
Rolling your eyes, you took his drink and shifted in your seat so you could lean against him. “Does that mean I can sign you up for the book club?”
“That depends. What are we reading?” Caliban asked. He looked away from the stage to meet your eyes.
“The Feminine Mystique.”
“Oh, okay.”
Laughing, you tilted your head up to kiss his jaw. Settling back into your seat and intertwining your hands, you said, “Well, if it counts for anything, I’m glad you’re here now.”
If you thought the worst part of the night was Sabrina’s toast, you were totally and completely unprepared for the incubus attack. It jumped from Theo to Harvey to Melvin before landing in the Uninvited. Their eyes were wild for a moment, but then the Uninvited shuddered as their eyes returned to a deep, empty brown. They’d eaten the incubus, and moments later they bit into Dorian’s heart like an apple.
There was something unbearably sad about the Uninvited, and the Darkness within you ached to fix them. It didn’t matter that they toasted to the end of all things, all that mattered was that they were alone. You started reaching out for them when Caliban took his hand in yours and pulled you closer to him.
“I am the Herald of the Void. I feast on the hearts of those that reject me. And someone here turned me away, therefore, death to you all.” The Uninvited smiled and downed whatever had been in their glass.
Tipping your glass towards the Uninvited, you drank to their toast as Hilda apologized for turning them away. She tried to invite them, but the Uninvited said it was too late. They’d already been turned away.
Nick stepped forward as the one that had turned the Uninvited away to sacrifice himself, but Sabrina tugged him back by the edge of his sleeve. Prudence was one step behind, holding Nick close to her chest as Sabrina offered the Uninvited a heart of sorts. She explained that she’s been wandering a cosmos of her own lately, feeling hopelessly alone, and just wanting to belong somewhere with someone. If they got married, the Uninvited would have her heart and a place to belong, always. Forevermore, they’d be the Invited.
The Darkness grew unruly as the Uninvited considered her proposal, and for a moment you thought they’d do as the Darkness wanted and rip Sabrina’s heart from her ribcage. Instead, all they did was nod.
---
Cold bit at your fingertips as you sat, knees pulled up to your chest, on the wall outside the desecrated church, but the stolen Mother’s Ruin kept your stomach warm. The sun had disappeared somewhere between the fake wedding and trapping the Uninvited in Sabrina’s old dollhouse, October chill coming in with the night sky, but you welcomed the change. Indifferent sunshine to apathetic stars.
Pouring out a bit of gin on the dead flowers below, you said a silent prayer for the Uninvited. Not for forgiveness, but maybe understanding. Hoping it would make the Darkness subside.
The crunching of dried grass underfoot interrupted your thoughts.
“This seat taken?”
You shrugged but moved over all the same to make space for Harvey. He threw a lanky leg over the side of the wall as he let out a deep breath. When he was settled, you offered him some of the Mother’s Ruin but he shook his head.
“No, uh, I’m good. Thanks though.” Harvey drummed uncertainly on the sides of the wall, watching carefully as you drank his rejected share of the gin. “So I was thinking about something the Uninvited said back there - about wandering around all alone until the terrors welcomed them to their club?”
Raising an eyebrow, you asked, “Are you about to call my boyfriend a terror?”
Harvey laughed, a deep, unsure sound, and looked down at the wall again. “Well, he is, but no.” He sighed and tried to get back to his point. “Look, I know I’m not the best at handling change. When Sabrina … I don’t know. It just- it kills me that you felt like you felt so alone and didn’t think you could talk to me.”
“Harvey-”
“Wait, let me finish.” Harvey took another deep breath. His nose was red, either from the cold or because he was holding back tears. “I never ever wanted to be the reason why you got hurt. But I was, and I’m sorry that I made you feel like that.”
You slid your hand over his. “Thank you,” you said quietly.
“I’m still not done.”
“Of course, you’re not.”
Harvey choked out another laugh and smiled. “Don’t tell Theo but you’re my best friend. And if Caliban makes you happy then … I kinda owe it to you to give him a shot.”
“So you’ll stop antagonizing him?” you asked, sitting up a bit straighter and pointing the bottle of gin at Harvey’s chest.
“Well, I never said that,” Harvey said dramatically. He laughed and pulled his other leg over the wall, taking the bottle from you and pulling a face after he tasted it. “Okay, what stars are we looking at tonight?”
You threw your legs over the side and let out a deep breath as you leaned against Harvey’s arm. “Fuck if I know. Tommy was the one who remembered all that stuff.”
“You just wanna make some up?” Harvey asked. He put his arm around your shoulder and handed the bottle back to you.
Hugging the bottle to your chest to keep the Darkness warm as it slept, you looked up to the sky and pointed to a cluster of stars. “That one’s you because it’s ugly.”
Tagged: @caliban-is-my-girl @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @music-movies @miss--moose @marrypuffsstuff @harryscarolinaa @igorsbby @foji2000 @hxlalokidottir @artaxerxesthegreat @thxmagic @luquincy @strawberriesandknives @xealia @hotmessindisguise @acciomaximoff @reheated-coffee @olivia-west-allen @shelby-x @perseny-blog @millie-753 @luneerius @shizzybarnaclee @lettherebelovex @drrramaaaqweeen @throughparisallthroughrome @ietss @thebookwormlife @mechanicalanimalz @mariamermaid @nqbmf @roxytheimmortal @shephard17895 @andie-kathleen @clockworks-world-to-fandoms @blondeeee-e @piensa-bonito @supportstudies @bookishaficionado @perfectlysane24
*looks at the list of ships Sabrina is in while going through the planning doc*
*presses delete on all of them*
Making good friends and saving Greendale first, bitches.
The CAoS Rewrite Without Context
22/11/2021
-------------------
- Catbot
- Fuck around and find out ft. Baby Witch!Lilith.
- Loki 👀
- You're not coming to tea? HECATE, I MADE BISCUITS.
- "Are we killing Adam?" - "Which one?"
- "I think she deserves a sword as a treat"
- "Boom, eldritch abomination!" - "of course he would make that."
- How to Human 101.
- *gently pats Lilith and Zelda* these babies can fit so much trauma in them.
- This thing that @devilfromparadis drew.
Infernal IX
Summary: In your sleepy little town of Greendale, nothing ever slept for long. And ever since October, everything felt like it was waking up. Everything except for you, that is. One teensy trip to Hell (and an infuriatingly cute guy) later and suddenly you felt wide awake.
Word-count: 2k+
Masterlist Prev. | Part 9
A/N: sorry for dropping of the face of the earth!! i’ve been super overwhelmed with uni but here we are 💕 enjoy the angst
When you went to her for help to face the Absolute Dark, Lilith had told you that you could feed on the dark and absorb its power. Even after unbinding your powers, you were left with more power than ever before. You were warned about the dangers of power, but no one told you how consuming it would be. There wasn't a moment that went by that you didn't draw on the Darkness, and almost all you could think about was testing the limits of your power. Every day was a new attempt at mastery, sometimes in the form of controlling a jerk who went too far and other times by tearing through the pages of a grimoire. You'd missed school. You hadn’t talked to your friends in days. For the first time in your life, you were selfish.
You thought Caliban would have liked the new, rebellious version of you better - Lilith certainly did - but he’d been acting strangely ever since the incident at the Paramount. He was more closed-off with you than before, more hesitant with what he said or did to you. At first, his concern for your safety was amusing, but now it just infuriated you. You felt watched and alone even when you were with him.
If he didn’t trust you anymore, then Caliban should just leave.
The flame on the wick exploded, and you cursed as you shook out your burnt palm and scowled at the ruined ritual in front of you. Exploring the Celestial Realm would have to wait.
“Thou art a soul in bliss, but I am bound upon a wheel of fire.”
“That mine own tears do scald like molten lead.” With a sigh, you lowered your palm to your side and turned to face the familiar voice in the corner of your room. “King Lear.”
Caliban’s mouth turned up into a smile. “You’ve been reading.” He leaned easily against your doorframe, seemingly forgetting how your last interaction had blown up.
“I’ve had time,” you said. You crossed your arms over your chest as you walked closer. “What are you doing here?”
Caliban shrugged and stepped closer. “Quiet day in Hell. I thought we could talk.”
“And what do you want to talk about today?”
Caliban reached a hand out to the side of your neck, but you didn’t move. His touch was frosty. “Theo says you haven’t been at school. He was worried about you.”
Your voice caught in your throat. The Darkness stirred at the idea of your friends talking about you behind your back. “I didn’t know you two were so close.”
“Well, since Rosalind is dating Huckleberry Finn, so Theo is my favorite…” Caliban sucked in a breath when you didn’t respond to his joke. He dropped his hand and looked down for a moment. “Have you given any more thought to my offer?”
“Your offer to fix me?”
“That isn't what I said.”
“But it’s what you meant.” You poked his chest angrily. “Because you think there’s something wrong with me.”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” Caliban’s easy sense of calm faltered as he reached for your hand. He wasn't used to being vulnerable or trying so hard. “Please, will you just listen to me for a moment? This much Darkness is dangerous. It’s changing you.”
“Have you ever thought this is how I’m supposed to be?” You stepped closer and lowered your voice. “I’m Lilith's heir. I’m made of darkness.”
“This isn’t who you are.”
“Yes, it is!”
The candles behind you reignited, their flames exploding to touch your ceiling. You ripped your hands away and stumbled back. Even with all the arguing you'd done and all Darkness in your veins, you’d never yelled at Caliban before then. You breathed heavy, unsteady breaths, trying to get your heart to stop racing and your hands to stop shaking.
Despite his furrowed brow and stormy eyes, Caliban was rooted to the spot just in front of your door. His hand twitched to help you, but he didn’t make any other movements.
“There is nothing wrong with me, do you understand? I’m not broken.”
Caliban’s lips parted, but lightning cracked in your room before he got the chance to speak. The candles were snuffed out in the blinding light, and for a moment, the room was deathly still. The hair on your arms stood on end.
Lilith’s cry brought you back to reality. She clutched her ginormous belly in one hand and clung to one of the minions with her other. When she opened her eyes, instead of explaining, she zeroed in on Caliban. “What is he doing here?”
“He was just leaving,” you said before he could answer. As angry as you were with him, you weren’t going to let your mother hurt him.
Caliban smiled, but it wasn’t as warm as before; his smile was something rueful and tight-lipped. He bowed, twirling his hand as he did, and said, “As you wish,” before disappearing in Hellfire.
It would have hurt less if he stuck a dagger in your chest and twisted.
Lilith screamed again as she crumpled to her knees. Glaring up at you, she forced out, “Something’s wrong with my baby. Take me to Zelda Spellman.”
---
Growing up, it had always been you and your dad. He taught you how to tie your shoes, tried an awfully intricate hairstyle for your first day of school, and read you a story every night before bed. As much as you loved him, it always felt as though your family was missing something. Having long given up on your mom ever coming home, you asked him if you could have a little brother. He promised that one day, when you’d probably forgotten that you asked in the first place, you’d get a little brother.
It was an easy lie to get you to stop asking about having a family - except, as you held the sleeping lump in your arms, you realized that your dad never lied to you. This perfect, troublesome little lump was all you’d ever wanted.
“What do you want to name him?” Lilith asked. You turned away from the window to face her as she pulled herself into a sitting position. She winced slightly as she did, more out of annoyance than pain.
“What?”
Rolling her eyes, she repeated, “What do you want to name him?”
“I don’t know,” you said quietly. Looking down at his face, it was hard to believe he came into this world without a name. It was hard to believe that you’d only had him a few hours at most. “Michael?”
“Less angelic,” Lilith critiqued, taking a long sip from the healing elixir Hilda had given her. Her disdain for herbalism was clear on the look of her face.
You huffed, rocking slightly on your heel to keep him sleeping. “His name is Adam.”
The words tumbled out of your mouth before you thought about it, sounding offhand but packing a punch. Lilith’s grip on the glass turned her fingers bone white. After an icy second, she repeated the name to herself. A wicked smile covered her features. “Adam,” she hummed. “I could agree to that, on the condition that-”
A knock sounded at the door and Lilith froze. Whoever was outside knocked again and you heard Zelda mumbling as the door handle turned and Lilith told them to come inside. She pulled you and Adam closer to her side. Uncharacteristically patient for her, Lilith waited for the witches to shuffle inside and explain that the Lords of Hell were asking to pay tribute to Adam.
The Uninvited had been the Darkness' family. When they were trapped in the alternate reality of Sabrina's dollhouse, the Darkness had lashed out with a white-hot fury, pushing angrily at your ribs and trying to break out. The thought of Adam being taken away from made the Darkness just as angry, but the scary thing was that it made you even angrier.
“Pay tribute?” Lilith scoffed, reaching to take Adam from your arms. Reluctantly, you let her take him. “They are here for one reason and one reason only: to kill my baby.” Before either of the Spellmans could respond, she added, “The baby you just delivered, Zelda Spellman.”
Zelda knotted her hands together. “Very well. Let’s give them the welcome they deserve.” Turning to the witches, “Ladies, if you’ll follow me.”
“Actually…” you stepped forward and tilted your chin up. “I’d like to have a word with them.”
Zelda faltered for the first time in all the years you’d known her. She might have known about your powers, but it must have been difficult for her to process that the child that brought her dandelions each spring was a demon. “Alright,” she said with a nod. “We will be right beside you.”
With a nod of your own, you led the way to the Academy gates. Your chest buzzed at the idea of being one of these witches, butterflies fluttering through the Darkness with all the excitement. Standing in front of the Lords, you clenched your tingling fingertips. They were as unpleasant to look at as the day you met them.
“What do you want?”
They looked at each other for a moment before one of them nodded and the other said, “Word has reached the Infernal Palace that a babe was born of Lucifer’s concubine, Lilith. We come bearing gifts?”
“Aren’t there supposed to be three of you?” With each word, you took a step down the gates. Pointing a finger at the gifts in their hands, you asked, “With gold, frankincense, and myrrh instead of these … trinkets?”
The other one pulled the box close to himself. Asmodeus, if you remembered right. “Bite your tongue, you insolent child. We come at the Dark Lord’s behest.”
You tilted your head to the side. Letting the Darkness seep into your veins, you told him. “Bite your tongue.” He frowned, blinking slowly. “I said: Bite your tongue, and because you didn’t do it right the first time, now I want you to bite it off.”
His voice rose, but all that came out were a few strangled noises before Asmodeus’ eyes glazed over, the box fell to the ground, and blood oozed out of his mouth. He spat his tongue into his hands, coughing and trying to speak, as Beelzebub cursed you.
He didn't get very far before Darkness tinged your vision as you turned to him. You didn’t have to speak this time to control him, just wave a hand and watch him fall to his knees.
“We will not leave-” he grit his teeth as he struggled against the weight of your will “-without the babe.”
Bending down, you grabbed one of the horns on the top of his head to pull his face up to meet your own. “No.” You smiled. “No, I don’t think you’ll be leaving here at all.”
You threw his head to the side and took a step back, watching Asmodeus choke on his own blood and Beelzebub writhe. The Darkness filled your body, and the world grew so still that your heart didn’t dare disturb it by beating. In a cold, distant voice, you recited your most familiar spell.
“Ater ignus, fusce fume.” Beelzebub yelled. You clenched a fist to force his mouth shut. “Te evoco ut potentium tuam monstres.” A spark ignited, right between each of their shoulder blades. “Cupidibus flammis hic veni.” The flames licked their backs, growing taller and darker by the second. “Caelo sub isto, harc arborem consumo.” The puddle of Asmodeus’ blood caught alight, illuminating his wretched face as it burned. “Lucem tenebrasque tuas monstra. Impetuum tuum evoco ad devorandum.” Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and let the Darkness consume all three of you. “Hanc arborem ac omnes hospitas devora.”
The flames erupted in front of you, blinding your eyes and knocking you off your feet. You were dimly aware of the witches screaming your name and the rush of heels against cobblestones as something sticky and cold dripped down your face. Not tears. Or blood.
Only Darkness.
Tagged: @caliban-is-my-girl @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @music-movies @miss--moose @marrypuffsstuff @harryscarolinaa @igorsbby @foji2000 @hxlalokidottir @artaxerxesthegreat @thxmagic @luquincy @strawberriesandknives @xealia @hotmessindisguise @acciomaximoff @reheated-coffee @olivia-west-allen @sweetrogers @shelby-x @perseny-blog @millie-753 @luneerius @shizzybarnaclee @lettherebelovex @drrramaaaqweeen @throughparisallthroughrome @ietss @thebookwormlife @mechanicalanimalz @mariamermaid @nqbmf @roxytheimmortal @shephard17895 @andie-kathleen @clockworks-world-to-fandoms @blondeeee-e @piensa-bonito @supportstudies @bookishaficionado @perfectlysane24 @sophia-of-sass-gard @insomniac-nerd-posts-things (struck through wouldn’t tag)
Infernal VII
Summary: In your sleepy little town of Greendale, nothing ever slept for long. And ever since October, everything felt like it was waking up. Everything except for you, that is. One teensy trip to Hell (and an infuriatingly cute guy) later and suddenly you felt wide awake.
Word-count: 3.3k+
Masterlist Prev. | Part 7
A/N: we’re back witches
The Shores of Sorrow was never meant to be a peaceful place. It was perfectly designed to torture lost souls for eternity, to damn them to an existence where they are forgotten by all except the high tides that mercilessly embraced them. Perfectly designed for torment, and yet you felt nothing but peace as the waves washed over your feet and the sun clung to the horizon … that is, until you sensed the demon behind you.
With a quick exhale, you summoned the Harpe and let it guide your muscles to cut down your attacker as you turned. Though it had been clumsy and cumbersome when Caliban had first given it to you, you’d grown used to the weight of the sword and learned the necessity of the sickle. The Harpe was an extension of yourself.
“Careful, love.” Caliban wielded his smile as dangerously as you wielded the Harpe. He’d jumped out of the way of your blow, but his The Doors t-shirt was too slow. The Harpe tore through the right side of his shirt, barely missing his skin. “You could hurt someone like that.”
Tilting your head to the side and leveling your sword at him, you said, “That’s kind of the point, babe. Sorry about your shirt though.”
Caliban looked at the Harpe for a moment before smiling to himself and stepping backward. Kneeling down and sinking his hands into the sand, he said, “I think it suits me better this way, don’t you?” He rose with twin obsidian daggers.
“I think it would look a lot better if you weren’t threatening me.”
“I’m not threatening you. I’d like to see what those malignants have taught you.”
“Oh, would you now?”
Grinning, Caliban twirled the daggers and struck out. He was fast, but you’d been trained to be faster.
You pulled the Harpe in to block the dagger headed for your chest and swiped to knock it to one side. Caliban turned into the movement so as not to lose the blade. He circled you with a dangerous smile, searching for a weak spot. You knew he’d found one when he tossed one of the daggers in the air and caught it with an overhand grip. Yet his determination still surprised you when he lunged and aimed a strike at your side.
Dropping the Harpe, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer - ignoring the stinging in your side to make a play for the other dagger. Caliban laughed at the clumsy attempt until you kneed him in the gut.
Twisting out of his hold, you summoned the Harpe and readied yourself for the next attack. For a while, Caliban moved in insufferable silence, but soon he started throwing witticisms and critiques your way as well. As distracting as the words were, they kept you from overthinking. Your moves were smoother, hits were harder, and strikes quicker. Still, you were restrained; no matter how easy it would have been to lean into the Harpe’s viciousness, you couldn’t risk hurting Caliban.
The sparring only stopped once you’d knocked each other to the ground, a dagger pressed to your ribcage and the Harpe at Caliban’s throat. You were frozen, the never-setting sun washing his features in pale pink light and contrasting the flecks of gold in his eye. He smiled.
“If this were a real fight-” he pulled the dagger back to twirl around his index finger before throwing it into the sand, “I would have cut out your heart by now.”
“If this were a real fight-” you leaned down slightly, applying ever so much more pressure to the Harpe “-I would have summoned Hellfire in your lungs and watched you burn alive by now.”
With a dangerous smile of your own, you pulled the Harpe back and let it vanish as you rolled over to a seat. The sun hung ambivalently on the horizon, blanketed in clouds. With the water slowly washing the shore, you could almost forget the souls of the damned drowning further out to sea.
As you sighed, Caliban rolled on his side to face you, head cradled in his hand. He touched your elbow and ran his index finger along your arm as he said, “Summoning Hellfire is new. Last week you just threatened to stop my heart.”
Truth be told, you couldn’t have stopped his heart even if you wanted you. You’d learned to master many of the gifts Lilith had given you, but telekinesis always gave you a nasty headache. “Keeping track of my powers in case I’ll follow through one of these days?” you asked, turning to him with an easy smile. You reached over and pushed some of his hair behind his ear.
Catching your hand with his, Caliban said, “Not at all.” Carefully, deliberately, he ran his thumb across the outside of your hand, connecting the scars scattered along your skin. “I won’t mind if you do, but I only ask in a vain attempt to determine when Lilith will be satisfied with your training.”
You choked out a laugh. “Lilith is never going to be satisfied with my training.” Rolling your eyes, you moved from your seat to lie in the sand. You stared at the clouds ahead, darker than you’d ever seen in Hell. “Every time I get the hang of one ability, she comes up with some fresh punishment. I’m hoping she’ll chill out once my replacement is born.”
Caliban was quiet. He looked at you with the same curious, indecipherable expression he’d used when you met on the Shores of Sorrow; jaw clenched, mouth barely upturned, and eyes searching. You asked what he was searching for.
“I was wondering where exactly I fit in the grand plan,” he said.
“Right next to me?” He didn’t seem convinced. You reached for his hand again. “Honestly, I don’t know where I fit into the plan either, but I do know they’re showing all the Alien movies at the Paramount this Friday. Maybe you could-”
A drop of rain landed on your face, but when you wiped it away, your hand was smeared black. You bolted upright, and the world around you shook.
“Caliban, what’s happening?”
“Someone’s trying to wake you, but you have to be careful-”
Electricity cracked through your skull, the pain so overwhelming that you didn’t register the tightness in your chest at first. Every muscle in your body ached, cramping from the sudden tension. You’d only experienced this kind of pain your first time using dream manipulation, when Lilith purposely pulled you out too suddenly to teach you the dangers of the waking world.
Lilith wasn’t the one who woke you this time. The white spots faded from your vision to give way to your dad, frantic and shaking you. By the time your hearing came back, he'd moved to the window. He rocked on his heels as he peered between your curtains. His words were incomprehensible.
“Dad, what’s wrong?”
Your dad turned his whole body to look at you. He blinked twice, slowly, before saying, “Oh, good. You’re awake. All the lights are out.”
Gingerly, you tested your muscles before trying to sit up. Everything still hurt, but you could move. “Did you try messing with the breaker?”
“I was an English major,” he told you seriously.
You rolled your eyes, thankful that he was at least lucid enough to crack a joke. He’d gotten better when Lilith was still coming around, but she stopped visiting almost as soon as she started. “I’ll go see if it’s affecting anyone else or just us.”
Crawling out of bed, you waited for the world to come into focus before making your way through the house to the breaker in the garage. You were just about to open the door when the toaster dinged behind you. It was working perfectly. The fridge was cool inside, even if the light wasn’t working. The only flaw you could find with any of the appliances you checked was the lack of light.
With a shudder, you told your dad that you were going to Sabrina’s.
He’d seemed completely himself since you woke up, but now he looked at you with a glassy expression that you knew all too well. Instead of telling you to be careful or that he’d see you soon or that he loved you, he said, “The instruments of darkness tell us truths.”
“Right,” you said with a sigh. You grabbed your jacket from the back of the chair. “I’ll keep that mind.”
---
One thing that you never understood about the Spellmans was that they never locked their doors. You understood now that a lock couldn’t keep out the threats they faced and there was no need to keep out their friends, but you still smiled to yourself as you let yourself in through the backdoor. Once inside, you found Sabrina, Ambrose, Nick, and Prudence huddled around the breakfast table as Ambrose warned them against something he called the eldritch terrors.
He told them to imagine a world without light, just perpetual darkness. Chaos would follow, and eventually so would death. You shuddered at the dark clouds in your dreams. “Worse comes to worst,” he said, “We cannot allow the darkness to escape Greendale.”
Prudence promised to work with the coven to seal Greendale’s borders as Nick offered to work with the Fright Club to contain the miners. Sabrina and Ambrose would work to disperse the darkness. None of them sounded very hopeful.
You took a step forward and tried to sound braver than you felt. “I can help.”
“Okay, sure,” Sabrina said, nodding at Ambrose over her shoulder. If she was surprised to see you after lurking in the corner of her kitchen, she didn’t say anything about it. “You can help Nick look for a spell to stop the miners.”
“No, Brina, that’s not what I meant.” Taking a deep breath, you held out your hand, palm up to the sky. You summoned the Hellfire and let the dark paint the flames and your eyes black. “I can help.”
There was only one time in your life that you’d ever left Sabrina Spellman at a loss for words: you were nine years old and Billy was testing the limits of the school’s zero-tolerance bullying, Sabrina was using her words the way Aunt Hilda had told her to, and you used your push-kick the way your dad had told you to. The speechless that overcame her now, however, was a different breed. When you were young, it had been a kind of admiration; now, it was a kind of betrayal. The quiet of a broken promise.
While Sabrina was still processing how her best friend could summon Hellfire, Prudence leaned in closer. She tilted her head as she took you in, intrigued by you for the first time since you’d met her. Even as Nick dragged her out, she kept her eye on you like a cat watches a mouse. Just before she disappeared, she winked at you.
You’d been so caught up in the whirlwind that is Prudence Blackwood that you didn’t notice Sabrina’s recovery and Ambrose’s diatribe. She pointed out that even if you could keep the darkness at bay long enough for her to create light, her powers wouldn’t be enough. Ambrose argued that the consequences of her suggestion would be cataclysmic.
“Aren’t we facing something cataclysmic?” she asked.
Ambrose sighed. Sabrina, begrudgingly, had made a fair point. “How do we go about this? No one other than myself can see the two of you together.”
“Uh, hi?” You stepped forward carefully. “Could one of you please explain what’s going on?”
Sabrina looked at Ambrose uncertainly. He nodded - after rolling his eyes - and she took a deep breath. “Remember when I gave up being Queen of Hell?”
“Yeah…”
“I didn’t really do that. I broke a time loop and created another version of myself so that I, Sabrina Spellman, could have this life and she, Sabrina Morningstar, could continue being Queen of Hell.”
“Damning the rest of us to a universe that could potentially fold in on itself in the process,” Ambrose finished.
“Oh.” You couldn’t say that you weren’t surprised that there were two Sabrinas - it didn’t make sense for Caliban to tell you stories about Sabrina advocating for reforms in Hell when you’d seen in her homeroom that same morning stressing about a trig midterm - but you were surprised she’d managed to keep it a secret so long. “This explains why you were muttering about time paradoxes when we were researching the fairy circles outside the Academy,” you said to Ambrose.
All Ambrose could do was choke out a laugh and shake his head. “Yes, Scout, that is why I was muttering about time paradoxes and why I will die prematurely,” he said, turning on his heel to focus on Sabrina. “Get Sabrina Morningstar, keep contact to a minimum, and we will meet you both at the mines.”
“Got it!” With a grin, Sabrina disappeared to prepare a glamor.
Ambrose stared at her, stunned, before saying, “I think she’s actually enjoying this.”
“What’s not to enjoy?” you asked. You laughed at Ambrose’s outrage over your joke and told him you’d meet him at the mines. There was one thing you had to do before you took on the eldritch darkness.
Ambrose didn’t ask any questions; he just told you to be back as soon as possible.
Luckily for you, teleporting to Hell took almost no time at all. The only reason it took you so long to get back to the mines was that it was nearly impossible for both Lilith and Caliban to slip away from the Courts unnoticed. If getting them in a room together was nearly impossible, then getting them not to tear one another’s throats out required a miracle.
It seemed the only thing the two of them could agree on was that it was too dangerous for you to go into the darkness alone.
“I won’t be alone,” you said for the umpteenth time. Careful not to mention the other Sabrina, you explained, “I’ll have all the Spellmans with me. All I’m asking from you is …” What exactly were you asking from them? Help? Forgiveness?
Lilith rolled her eyes. “While the Spellmans may have an uncanny ability to vanquish their foes, I severely doubt their ability to ward off one of the eldritch terrors. Especially without their resident Morningstar.”
“And what exactly are you suggesting we do, Lilith?” Caliban asked. He said her name as if it were a poison. He used the same steely voice to talk to her that he used when he challenged her claim to the throne, even if he paired it with a smile in your presence.
Lilith simmered, pulling her lips into a tight smile. Some part of her, you thought, enjoyed the fact that Caliban was defiant, but you knew that an even larger part of her disliked others doubting her. Turning to you, she said, “No one other than the three of us can know about your claim to Hell. I cannot help you face the darkness, but if we bind our powers together, you may have a chance of surviving it on your own.”
“Even with your power, how would I even go about fighting something like this?” you asked. “I can’t make light.”
“You don’t need to,” Lilith said. “You can feed on the dark, acknowledge it as yours, and draw power from it.”
Caliban doused the fire building in your veins with water as he stepped forward. “The effects of absorbing that much darkness could be deadly.”
“So is doing nothing,” Lilith said. She tilted her head up to him and narrowed her eyes. “So, Prince of Clay, unless you have any better ideas, I suggest we get a move on before the eldritch dark ends us all.”
---
You weren’t sure what to expect from the other Sabrina. You’d supposed they would be the same as Wardwell and Lilith: they’d share a face and be impossibly different from one another, but that wasn’t the case. Sabrina Morningstar was an exact double of Sabrina Spellman; if anything, she seemed to be a more hopeful version of your best friend, despite her extended stay in Hell.
“I see what you mean about the energy down here,” she mused, looking ahead to where the Darkness lay. “It’s … evil. And old. I feel terrible.”
The Darkness didn’t feel evil to you. It felt sad, bottomless, and empty, but not evil.
“And that will only get worse once you’re inside,” Ambrose said. He tore his eyes away from the Darkness. “Prolonged and acute exposure to the Darkness is lethal. Death by despair.” He sighed. “So who’s first?”
Sabrina Morningstar shifted next to you. “Me.”
She squeezed your hand before letting go to pick up the giant lightbulb at her feet. She threw you a trademarked Sabrina smile before disappearing into the Darkness. Even in the pit of despair, there was a light in her that seemed utterly unable to be snuffed out.
You took a deep breath, shook every other thought out of your head, and focused on the dark. The Dark wasn’t evil, it wasn’t cold. It was pulling faces over a flashlight under the covers with Roz, Theo, and Sabrina. It was Tommy teaching you and Harvey about astronomy through a cracked telescope. It was warm, and sweet, and deeply, intrinsically sad.
The Darkness filled every cell of your being, replaying every birthday you spent wishing that your mother had loved you enough to stay, echoing every degrading word school bullies had said to you. It was smothering.
Sabrina stood right next to you, but her voice was barely audible. “Something’s wrong, Ambrose. The- the light’s fading.”
“I’m afraid so, cos,” Ambrose said.
You fought to pull yourself out of the Darkness, but it was like shedding a second skin. The Darkness felt like a part of you, more you than yourself.
The instruments of darkness tell us truths.
Breathing in, you opened your eyes and steadied yourself. The Darkness was a part of you, maybe the truest piece of you, but that’s all it was: one part of you, one version of the truth. You reached for Sabrina’s hand and forced a smile.
“Let’s go help her.”
Sabrina stepped into the Darkness first, but then she froze. She couldn’t feel the energy in the dark like you. Carefully, you led her through the Dark until you found Sabrina Morningstar, Darkness seeping out her nose and eyes. She was crying, hope snuffed out.
Hope, it turned out, took the form of Sabrina Spellman. She picked the pieces of Sabrina Morningstar off the floor and told her that they could face the Darkness, and anything else that came their way, together. And maybe with a little help, you added, as you knelt with them.
Taking their hands in yours, you drew the Darkness out of their hearts. While Sabrina Spellman hadn’t let very much in, Sabrina Morningstar had worn her heart on her sleeve. She felt every emotion the Darkness threw at her with full force and let her shattered past cut her open. Taking her Darkness was one of the hardest things you’ve ever done, but it was worth it to see the two of them smile over a lightbulb filled with Absolute Darkness.
Ambrose was a wreck when you found him again. He looked ready to cry at the sight of you. “Congratulations! Unbelievably, the three of you have managed to do what is nearly impossible: you trapped an eldritch terror.”
“We did it,” the Sabrina’s said, each squeezing one of your hands.
“We should get that lightbulb somewhere safe,” Ambrose said. He took another shaky breath and shook his head as Sabrina Morningstar scooped the Darkness up and started wading through the mines. “I can’t believe that actually worked.”
“Yeah,” you said softly, watching them disappear down the tunnel. Lifting a hand to wipe your nose, you saw the familiar sticky Darkness painting your fingertips. “Neither can I.”
Tagged: @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @miss–moose @marrypuffsstuff @harryscarolinaa @igorsbby @foji2000 @hxlalokidottir @artaxerxesthegreat @thxmagic @strawberriesandknives @xealia @hotmessindisguise @acciomaximoff @reheated-coffee @shelby-x @perseny-blog @millie-753 @luneerius @shizzybarnaclee @lettherebelovex @throughparisallthroughrome @ietss @thebookwormlife @mechanicalanimalz @mariamermaid @nqbmf @caliban-is-my-girl @shephard17895 @andie-kathleen @clockworks-world-to-fandoms @luquincy @marina468 @olivia-west-allen @drrramaaaqweeen @roxytheimmortal @blondeeee-e @piensa-bonito @supportstudies
Infernal - VI
Summary: In your sleepy little town of Greendale, nothing ever slept for long. And ever since October, everything felt like it was waking up. Everything except for you, that is. One teensy trip to Hell (and an infuriatingly cute guy) later and suddenly you felt wide awake.
Word-count: 3.7k+
Masterlist Prev. | Part 6
A/N: so i just wanted to thank you guys for the support you’ve given Infernal!! it really makes my day to see you reading and getting feedback is just 💓💓 anyway this is the last part for this series until the next season comes out, but i have a few caliban wips. should i start posting those and tagging you in them?? thanks again and i hope you like this!!
Light streamed through the blinds when you woke up, landing softly on your covers and gently covering Caliban’s face. He’d never looked so calm when he was awake; always putting on a show, whether it was for you and your friends or for the courts of hell. Look at me, his face screamed when he was awake, I don’t care. I am in control.
Now it was silent. Dreamy.
You reached out a slow hand and moved some blonde curls out his face, letting it rest on his chest when you were done. Smiling to yourself, you thought about how absolutely mundane this morning was. Nothing to do, nowhere to be. You wouldn’t change a thing.
“I have the strangest sensation of being watched,” Caliban murmured as he stretched out next to you. His arms extended overhead and you watched how Harvey’s too-short hoodie crept up to his elbows. When you looked at his face, it featured a barely contained teasing grin.
“Well, we’ll have to get that sorted out right away,” you said as Caliban rolled his eyes and propped himself up on an elbow to face you. Your hand moved from his chest to the side of his neck, thumb tracing his jaw. “Tell me, sir, what did the perpetrator look like?”
“Beautiful.”
He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, careful not to crash into you or get too tangled up as your hands rose to the sides of his face. His laugh tickled your face. It made your heart beat a mile a minute.
You pulled away ever so slightly to look in his eyes. Breath caught in your throat as you asked, “Don’t go back to Hell.”
Now his face said he was confused, something that he didn’t feel very often. Caliban sighed and rolled back to his side of the bed, slipping through your fingers to stare up at the ceiling with a half-open fist resting on his forehead.
“I just mean-” you slid closer, getting up to your forearm to face him. You lifted your hand to his chest but your palm hung millimeters above it. Unsure fingers tapped at the air. “For one day, stay here. Sabrina won the challenges, right? So there’s no real rush and I- I could show you what it’s like to be human for a day. And you could-”
Caliban took his fist off his forehead and wrapped his hand around yours, holding it to his chest as he took a breath. His eyes moved from the ceiling to you. Your heart stopped. “I’m not going outside looking like this.”
“Deal. There’s a Target like ten minutes away and you can pick out whatever you want,” you said. Before he could argue, you turned and started climbing out of bed. “What do you want for breakfast?”
Caliban looked at you with equal parts amusement and bewilderment before shaking his head and moving to his feet. “Surprise me.”
You reached out a hand to lead him to the kitchen, but stood still in front of the door, shoulders tense as you turned to face Caliban. “I should warn you,” you said, looking at the spot between his eyebrows. Apparently, people couldn’t tell you weren’t making eye contact if you looked there. “My dad can be a little … much. Lilith said he has something like the cunning, but I think it’s more like early-onset dementia. He means well, he just- he gets a little confused.”
Caliban’s jaw clenched as you spoke and you watched him make a conscious effort to relax it. In the most controlled voice you’d heard, he asked, “And does he hurt you when he gets confused?”
You couldn’t even look at the spot between his eyebrows. Coward. “He doesn’t mean to. He just-”
“That night you had a bruise on your arm, that was him?”
“You remember that?”
There was something fiery in him when you looked at Caliban again, slithering just below the surface. You cupped his face and drew his eyes off the door and back to you. His skin was hot to the touch.
“He needs help. You can’t hurt him,” you said. He was going to say something biting so you talked over him. “Please, just for today, let it go.”
Silence. His jaw clenched.
One.
If looks could kill, your door would be nothing but a pile of splinters and you would be dust.
Two.
“Just for today,” he conceded.
You held up a pinky and all that anger faded into amusement. He even laughed when you picked up his hand and forcibly intertwined his pinky with your own.
“This means that I get to keep your pinky in a jar if you break your promise,” you said, sounding far too serious for someone making a pinky promise before nine o’clock in the morning.
“Is that another promise?” Caliban asked, leaning down slightly.
Still, after everything that had happened, the action made you nervous. In a (probably failed) effort to seem cool and unaffected, you dropped his hand and turned to open the door. As soon as you did, the smell of pancakes hit you in the face like a ton of bricks. Your dad was awake, and he probably wouldn’t remember the past few days. Would that make this easier or harder to explain?
Too busy thinking to come up with clever and endearing things to tell Caliban about your house as you wandered your way to the kitchen, the two of you walked in silence while you absentmindedly gripped his hand.
‘Silence’ wasn’t really the best word to describe it because, although neither of you were talking, the house was filled up by your dad’s music. When you got closer, you could even hear him singing along as he flipped pancakes.
“Dad?” you asked hesitantly as you rounded the corner to the kitchen. The batter sizzled uncertainly as he looked up at you. All of the carefree happiness drained from his face when his eyes landed on Caliban. “Dad, this is-”
“That a monster should be such a natural.” His voice wasn’t quite as venomous as the last time you heard him speak, but it was icy. “Caliban, son of the witch-hag Sycorax. Native son of the-”
“Dad, no.” You let go of Caliban’s hand to take a step closer, putting one hand on your dad’s and using the other to try and pry the angry spatula from his hand. “Caliban is a friend. He-”
“O, it is monstrous, monstrous: Methought the billows spoke and told me of it-” Your dad broke eye-contact with Caliban to stare holes in your soul. He whispered to you like a child trapped in a horror movie, “The winds did sing it to me, and the thunder - that deep and dreadful organ-pipe-”
“Dad-”
“Be not afeard. This isle is full of noises,” Caliban said. His voice was almost as gentle as it was when he showed you how to conjure light, and he walked closer very slowly and carefully. “Sounds and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices that, if I then had waked after long sleep-” He held out his hand, palm up, like someone would to frightened animal “-Will make me sleep again; and then, in dreaming, the clouds methought would open and show riches ready to drop upon me, that when I waked I cried to dream again.”
Your dad blinked once, twice. He looked at you. He looked at Caliban. He looked at Caliban’s hand.
“Oh, crap, that one’s burnt!” He jumped out of your grip to shut off the stove and scrape out the burnt batter before something caught alight.
Caliban held onto your shoulders in an effort to comfort you as you stared at your dad. No matter how often it happened, you still couldn’t understand what made him like this. One second he was making pancakes, the next he was cursing you in Elizabethan tongue, and then he was making pancakes again.
“So let me guess,” your dad said with a wry smile as he turned back to the two of you, pan successfully scraped clean. “Long lost cousin of Sabrina’s-” he pointed the spatula harmlessly at Caliban and continued to the stove “-And you’re working on a … History project? Fell asleep at the desk?”
“You’ve always been a good guesser,” you said through gritted teeth.
Your dad laughed as he poured the next lot of batter in the pan. “Chin up, Y/N, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. There’s some pancakes over there and the syrup’s in the fridge.” He smiled over your head at Caliban. “Help yourselves.”
“Thank you,” Caliban said with a thin smile.
---
You sat in the car for five minutes, tinkering with the seat and mirror settings while Caliban sat politely in the passenger seat. Never did you imagine using the words ‘Caliban’ and ‘polite’ in a sentence without the words ‘is not’ sandwiched between them, but a lot of things had changed since then. Sighing, you sank back into your seat and looked over.
Polite, amused.
“Okay, you need to put your seatbelt on before we start moving,” you said. Caliban arched an eyebrow at you. “I’m being serious. Belt on or you can stay in Harvey’s old clothes the whole day.”
“Are you that bad of a driver or did you forget that I’m nigh-indestructible?” Caliban asked, making you roll your eyes.
“Wanna find out exactly how indestructible you are?” you asked, leaning over the armrest and getting distractingly close to him.
Caliban’s eyes dropped to your mouth. “Do you want to try?”
“Nope!”
You yanked the seatbelt forward and kept it with you as you flipped back into your side of the car, clicking it into the socket when you could breathe again. You shot him a grin and he shot you a glare. Oh well.
Switching on the engine, you tried to string together a coherent thought. “So this car is old - older than me, probably older than you - so she’s a little sensitive. She’s also a piece of crap who’s been stuck on the same cassette since I learned to talk,” you told him as you rolled out of the driveway. “The air con’s busted. There’s a spring sticking out of the backseat. Is that a cloud? We can only turn right if it starts raining.”
Caliban let out a laugh next to you, craning his head to try and spot the cloud. “Why don’t you just get another car?”
“Because she’s part of the family.” You smacked the dashboard twice. “Aren’t you, Sugar?”
The speakers started blasting Tiffany’s I Think We’re Alone Now in response and it was the first time you’d ever seen Caliban look truly startled, even if it was just in your peripheral vision. It made you smile the whole way to Target.
Despite your worries, finding Caliban something to wear was pretty easy, even if you had to coerce him into picking out a jacket. It didn’t take long for something to burst your bubble though: you heard Harvey laughing somewhere nearby.
“Shit,” you whispered, grabbing Caliban’s arm. You pointed over some shelves to where Harvey and Theo were looking at graphic socks. “Shit. Scatter!”
“Excuse me?”
“Scatter! I-” You shoved the clothes into Caliban’s arms. “Go try these on. Don’t come out until I come to find you.”
“Don’t you think this is a bit of an over-”
“No!”
You pushed him back towards the changing rooms and got ready to confront Harvey and Theo when Caliban’s hand caught your wrist and pulled you back with him. You didn’t argue until he latched the door.
“Don’t know how to get dressed by yourself?” you asked in a low voice.
“If I said yes, would you show me?” Caliban asked, lifting the corners of his mouth. He sighed before lifting Harvey’s old sweatshirt over his head. “I didn’t think you wanted to explain all this to your friends. Hence the - uh, what was the word you used - scattering?”
You bit your cheek as you weighed your options. Deciding it would be easier to think without looking at Caliban’s chest, you handed him a shirt. You focused on Caliban’s hands as he buttoned up the shirt, long and dainty-looking as he worked his way up the fabric slowly.
And then there weren’t any buttons left, just Caliban watching you watching him. It made your heart stop. Again.
“Right, all done?” you asked, moving your things so you could stand up. You became intimately aware of how small these changing rooms were.
“Unless you want to stay for the pants part?” Caliban asked.
“I think I’ll take my chances with Harvey and Theo, thanks,” you said and carefully stepped around him to get to the door.
While Caliban was busy, you did some impulse buying and tried to catch your breath. Thankfully, Harvey and Theo seemed to have left. The whole situation left you feeling conflicted; all you wanted was to tell them about Lilith and Caliban but you were scared that they wouldn’t understand.
When Sabrina finally told you all about her being a witch … to say it didn’t go over well was an understatement. When you finally told them, would it go over any better?
After getting Caliban something to wear and something to eat, you took him to a parking lot of a long-abandoned strip mall. Still debating whether this was a good idea or not, you took a breath and turned in your seat to face him.
“Don’t make me regret this,” you said carefully, resting your hands on the gearshift. “Do you want to learn to drive?”
“That depends. Am I going to learn in this car?”
You rolled your eyes and turned back to the front, the beginning of a biting comment coming out of your mouth before Caliban laughed and leaned over, placing his hands over yours on the ignition.
“Wait, wait, wait,” he said, stifling the rest of his laughter. “I’d be honored if you’d teach me to drive.” You didn’t say anything. He leaned in closer. “In this car.”
You turned your head to look at him, underestimating just how much he leaned in. Almost nose to nose, you said, “Say please.”
“Please?”
“Like you mean it.”
A smile sparked on his lips. “Would you, please, teach me how to drive?”
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” you said dryly, unlocking the doors and stepping out while Caliban shook his head and did the same.
Teaching Caliban was just as infuriating as you expected; he sped up when you said he couldn’t, he rode out the clutch, but - worst of all - he didn’t appreciate the background noise of the broken mixtape. Round and round the old parking lot he went, muttering swears and curses all the while.
“Okay- okay, babe, you need to stop.” You put your hand on the gearshift, over his tight white knuckles. He let out a heated breath as he shut the car off. “You’re sticking the shift from second to third. Sugar’s old, remember? You need to be more gentle.”
“I’m being plenty gentle.”
“You’re definitely being plenty something,” you said. He didn’t appreciate the joke. “Take a breath. Let’s try again.”
Caliban didn’t say anything as he started the car up again, but he did everything you told him when you told him to do it. With your hand guiding him, he didn’t stall for the first time in over an hour and he only swore once (at a pigeon, but in his defense it really was stopped in the middle of nowhere).
Finally, Caliban parked the car squarely in the middle of four spots and turned to face you, much like you had some time ago but without propping up any legs. “We’ve been doing human things the whole day,” he said. “I’d like to add something to the itinerary.”
“Oh, would you now?”
“Do you trust me to take you there?” Caliban asked, ignoring your teasing.
“You mean, like, letting you drive on the road?” you asked. “Where the other people drive?”
“Unless you’d like to teleport there,” Caliban offered.
You bit the inside of your cheek. “Okay, you can drive but you have to listen to me exactly like you did just now. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Bad music blared over the speakers as Caliban drove, windows down, to his mystery location. You pretended not to notice whenever he damn near stalled the car, he pretended not to notice whenever you messed up the words to the music, and you both pretended not to notice how right it felt to have your hands intertwined.
It was absolutely mundane. A drive for over-eager teens with nothing better to do. You wouldn’t miss it for the world.
Caliban turned down a gravelly road that you were sure led to private property, but you didn’t mention it. He seemed very sure of himself in your piece of crap car. Even as he rolled to a stop and the car wheezed its way to sleep, he looked like he was made for this moment.
“So is the part where you make me dig my own grave?” you asked, moving to face him and lifting your hand from his to the side of his neck. “Because you should know that I’d rather kill myself than do manual labor.”
Caliban let out a laugh as he mirrored your movements, except his hand lifted to his mouth, thumb running across his lower lip. “No, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for a while longer, love.”
You weren’t entirely sure how to answer that one, so you took a breath and looked down at the gearshift. “So what exactly is the plan?”
“Swimming,” Caliban answered. He unbuckled his seatbelt before you could ask more questions - of which you had plenty - and got out of the car.
You had to rush to keep up, slowing your jog once you could grab his hand. “Woah, slow down. Swimming? In a Greendale Lake?”
“Is that a problem?”
“Uh, yeah. For starters, it’s January.”
“I can cast a spell to keep you warm.”
“You got a spell to protect me from Hep A?”
Instead of answering, Caliban rolled his eyes and lifted his hand, palm up, in front of you. He nodded to it when you didn’t answer him. “Do you trust me?”
You bit the inside of your cheek as you looked at his hand. Not everything had to be a show of how tough you were, and you got the feeling that Caliban already knew how tough that was. You put your hand in his, trying your best to memorize the changes in his face when you did.
The two of you walked in silence, joined at the fingertips, until Caliban slowed down at the mouth of a cave and you made a disapproving noise. You held up your other hand when he looked at you, to show that you were trusting and not criticizing. At least not externally.
The cave wasn’t anything like the one you’d found Medusa in, nor was it like any of the ones you and Harvey played around when you were kids. It was smooth and dark, with air far less musty than you expected. Water was running somewhere and Caliban led you to the spot where it ended. A small, pitch dark rock pool.
Then Caliban let go of your hand and started taking off his brand new shirt.
“Okay, what are you doing now?” you asked.
“Swimming,” Caliban said without any hesitation. “Do you not remember?”
“I-” You broke off. He said you were going swimming, did you think he just magically had a swimsuit in your size hiding out in this cave? You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m not taking off my underwear.”
“It’s going to an awfully uncomfortable drive home,” Caliban said with a devilish smile as he threw the shirt at you. “But whatever you prefer.”
You stood awkwardly as he finished undressing and slid into the pool. He was considerate enough to turn around after your first complaint and then you begrudgingly took off your layers. At least it was dark enough in here that he couldn’t see you blush.
Dipping in your toes, you pulled away with a tiny shriek. “It’s fucking freezing!”
Caliban laughed as he waded around to look up at you. It was unnerving, though he didn’t mean it to be. “It’s going to be cold for the first few seconds. Diving headfirst is the best way to do it.”
“Yeah, if what you’re trying to do is get a concussion.”
“Just get in,” Caliban said slowly, “And it’ll get better after that. I’ll warm you up if it doesn’t.”
“No way in Hell. And I mean that with a capital H,” you said, refolding your arms over your chest. “The only way I’m getting in there is if you drag me.”
Caliban’s head tilted to the side for a second before straightening up as he waded closer to you. When he was right in front of you, the water only came up to his naval, but he gestured for you to lower down to him like he was telling you a secret. In a dangerously low voice, he asked, “What was that again?”
You blinked back your surprise. “Uh, what was what? That I’m only getting in here if you- Don’t you dare!”
Before you could run away, Caliban had scooped you up and twirled you into the icy water. But you couldn’t focus on the cold when everything that he touched was on fire. And when the screaming and splashing and laughing died down, it was just you and Caliban alone in the dark. Nose to nose. Holding your arms to his chest. Too afraid to breathe and mess up the moment.
Your heart was trying to break out your ribcage.
“I think you were right,” you whispered. “Diving in headfirst is the best way to do it.”
Caliban’s heart was slow and steady, but you could swear it skipped a beat right there.
“You’re sure about that?” he said softly.
“Without a doubt.”
Tag List: @caliban-is-my-girl @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @music-movies @miss--moose @marrypuffsstuff @harryscarolinaa @igorsbby @foji2000 @mschfavngz @artaxerxesthegreat @thxmagic @luquincy @strawberriesandknives @xealia @hotmessindisguise @olivia-west-allen @sweetrogers @reheated-coffee @shelby-x @perseny-blog @millie-753 @luneerius @shizzybarnaclee
Infernal - IV
Summary: In your sleepy little town of Greendale, nothing ever slept for long. And ever since October, everything felt like it was waking up. Everything except for you, that is. One teensy trip to Hell (and an infuriatingly cute guy) later and suddenly you felt wide awake.
Word-count: 5.5k+
Masterlist Prev. | Part 4
A/N: okay okay i know you guys hate cliffhangers and i’m sorry!! hopefully this makes up for it tho 👀👀 also i’m working on some other caliban fics to post once this series is over, would you guys still like to be tagged in those??
tumblr’s formatting has been shit these past few days as well, and i think i’ve gotten most of it ironed out but let me know if there’s anything i missed!
“When she comes back to life, she won’t be scarred, will she?” Harvey asked. His voice was still full of concern, but it was softer now. A quiet kind of anxiety.
“She will not,” Caliban said.
“Oh, that’s a relief,” Sabrina breathed.
You had to admit, looking at Roz all broken and put back together again was unsettling. Not any more unsettling than finding out your mom was a demon and your dad was a psychic (maybe?), but unsettling nonetheless.
“What do we do now?” you asked, arms folded over your chest and leg bouncing to distract from how uncomfortable you felt.
“You say the spell, but first, you make your offering,” Caliban explained. Eyes rolling over from Sabrina to you. He seemed to zero-in on your nerves like a hawk would a field mouse.
“To whom?” Sabrina asked.
“Aphrodite or Eros,” Caliban said.
“What am I offering?” Harvey asked.
“Your love for Rosalind,” Caliban said. “Give it up, and she’ll be restored to flesh.”
“Give it up? What are you talking about?” Harvey asked.
“Aphrodite is the goddess of love,” Caliban said. “She’ll grant your wish, but demands your heart’s desire: Rosalind.” He looked down at the statue of your friend. “Vow to forsake your truest love, then to complete the spell … kiss her. She’ll restore to flesh once more. But if you betray your vow - if you kiss her again - she’ll return to stone and will remain that way until the end of days.”
“Wait, no! Harvey, there has to be some other kind of offering,” Sabrina said, reaching out to comfort him.
“It’s a Pygmalion spell,” you said. Your voice was still full of anger, so you made a conscious effort to soften it. Taking a breath, you went on, “The myth is that to bring his statue to life, he gave up sculpting. His true love. So there isn’t really a way around that.”
“Exactly,” Caliban said. You hadn’t met his gaze when he cataloged your unease before, but now you accidentally caught his eye. Your leg stopped bouncing. Your anger flickered for a moment. “Love for life.”
“I’ll do it,” Harvey said, not leaving any room to talk him out of it. He walked towards Caliban and took the paper from his hand.
“Say the words to Aphrodite and give her a kiss,” Caliban said.
Harvey knelt down and said some heartbreaking words that you wished you hadn’t overheard before saying the spell written on the piece of paper. He gave her a kiss but nothing changed. She was still stone.
“Nothing happened!” he said, looking up.
“Caliban?” Sabrina asked, sounding equal parts accusatory and panicked.
“His offering was rejected,” Caliban said.
“What does that mean?” Harvey asked. “Why?”
“You must not truly love her,” Caliban said, like it was obvious. Unexpected, tragic, but obvious.
“That’s bullshit!” Harvey got to his feet, squaring up in front of Caliban.
“Oh, crap,” you mumbled as you uncrossed your arms and moved around Roz to get to Harvey. You slipped your hands around his arm but it didn’t stop him from simmering in place. “Harvey, calm down.”
“Aphrodite would only accept your heart’s true desire,” Caliban said, either unbothered by Harvey’s anger or uncaring toward it. Still, he pushed. “That must not be Rosalind. Must be something or someone else.”
“Shut the hell up!” Harvey yelled as he slipped out of your hands. In one quick motion, he grabbed the collar of Caliban’s shirt and threw him against the wall.
“Harvey, enough!” you yelled. You maneuvered your way between them and outstretched your hands, one palm splayed on Caliban’s yellow t-shirt and your other fingers pointing dangerously at Harvey as Sabrina pulled him a few feet back.
“What does he know? Him and his bullshit spell,” Harvey spat. “How do we know if any of this is real?”
“Why would I lie?” Caliban asked. His heartbeat was slow and steady under your hand, more interested in your intervention than Harvey’s outburst.
“Harvey,” you warned before he could say anything else. Sabrina’s attention slipped for a second and Harvey’s hand got free. He got ready to aim it at Caliban. Your voice was sharp as knives and twice as deadly as you snapped, “Harvey, drop it.”
He looked at you for a second before unclenching his fist. The frown on his face deepened as he collected himself. Sure, you picked on him the most out of your friends, but you were always the first one on his side in a fight. You weren’t sure if your shifting alliance was making him frown or the fact that he’d actually listened to you.
“I should kick your ass,” Harvey mumbled, looking over your head to Caliban again.
“Try it again and I’ll grind every bone in your body to sand,” Caliban said, tone back to being vaguely threatening and unhelpful as he straightened up under your hand.
You pushed him back slightly and turned to tell him to knock it off, but Sabrina’s voice stopped you. “Tell us what, Robin?” she asked, clearly having a conversation that you weren’t listening to.
“Among the pagans, there’s that witch, Circe,” Robin explained. “The one that turned your friends into pigs? She has powerful magicks of transformation. She could turn your friend back into flesh.”
“For someone who’s trying to earn our trust, why would you only tell us this now?” Sabrina asked.
The lull in arguing made you very aware of how close you still were to Caliban. His heart continued to beat faithfully under your palm as yours rose in your chest. Taking a breath and a step back, you reached for Harvey’s hand in an attempt to put some distance between the two of you. Caliban gave you a curious look as your hand laced into Harvey’s, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly.
“No, it’s too dangerous,” Robin said, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I mean, Circe’s power resides in her hands. All she’d have to do is touch you, and she could turn you into any creature she’s ever seen before. And without magick, you’re no match against her.”
“I don’t have magick, it’s true,” Sabrina said. “But I know where I can borrow some.”
She told you about the hedge-witches and her plan to borrow their magic in order to attack the Carnival and bring Circe to the Academy. That way, she could fix Dorcas and Roz. How she was going to convince them to help her, you weren’t sure. You were tired of placing faith in people that didn’t deserve it.
“Okay, but I’m still going to look some stuff up,” you said when she was done. She gave you a hurt look as she readied herself to argue. “Brina, it’s not that I don’t think you can do this, but I don’t like putting all our hope in this one plan. That hasn’t really been working out for us lately.”
“Fair enough,” Sabrina said with a small sigh. “Ambrose is busy but you can look in the Academy’s library as much as you want.”
“Hell’s library is endless,” Caliban said, still leaning on the wall where you’d left him. He’d been so quiet that you’d almost forgotten he was there. Almost. “It’s knowledge is infinite. If there’s another way to return Rosalind to flesh, it’s in there. Not in some coven book club.”
“You’re inviting me to Hell?” you asked. Your voice betrayed you by sounding too interested.
“Only if my queen allows it,” Caliban said, gaze moving to Sabrina. His voice didn’t.
Looking next to you, you found Sabrina pulling a face. She didn’t like Hell at the best of times, and you doubted this qualified. “You’ll protect her from whatever’s down there?”
“As if my life depends on it,” Caliban promised.
“Oh, it does,” Sabrina said before turning to look at you. She cupped your hands in hers before giving you a warning. “Be careful and don’t listen to a word he says.”
“Trust me, that’s not gonna be a problem,” you said with a sigh as you looked over to Caliban. He wore an amused smirk as he held his hand out to you.
“Shall we?”
Against your better judgment, you put your hand in his. It was warm, hard in some places and soft in others, and the only thing you focused on as the hellfire burned the edges of vision and the world gave way beneath you.
---
“You know, this would go a lot quicker if you helped instead of just looking at me like that,” you said, not looking up from the millionth book you’d taken out that night.
But he wasn’t looking. He was studying you under a microscope and you were trying not to squirm. Curious.
When you’d gotten here, the first few minutes had been painful retching - hell was not made for humans. Then they were nervous butterflies and shaky hands - you were not made for the attention Caliban gave you. Then they were frantic sprints from shelf to shelf - hell’s library was not made for someone with a very specific problem.
“I’m admiring,” Caliban corrected, leaning closer in his chair. “For instance, did you know that when you’re focused, your forehead creases right there?” He touched the spot between your eyes, just next to your eyebrow. “Exactly like it’s doing now.”
You took a breath and slammed the book shut on the table, turning to give him a harsh look. “Did you know that when I’m annoyed, I have a nasty habit of choking nearby demons?”
“Is that a promise?” he asked, not having moved an inch from where he leaned in to touch your face. The two of you were so close now that it felt like there wasn’t enough air. His eyes dropped to your lips. A second passed and all he did was shake his head and collapse back in his chair. “The Pygmalion spell had the greatest chance of curing your friend, any of the spells we find now are likely to be too obscure to hold any practical weight.”
“Then why did you bring me here?” you asked, actively trying to put out the fire inside you and not be the first to look away.
“I have to admit that my motives were purely self-serving,” Caliban said as he stretched out, hands interlacing behind his head and elbows spread wide. “I wanted to spend some time with the person who risks not one, but two trips to Hell for her friends. Is that such a problem?”
“Considering you want to dethrone my best friend and enslave everyone I’ve ever met, I’m going to go with yes,” you said. You didn’t think that you could take him looking at you like that any longer, so you started piling books together to shelve later. A petty defeat.
“What if that was something I no longer wanted to do?” Caliban asked, sounding genuinely interested in your answer.
“You’d forfeit your claim to be king?” you asked, hands frozen in the air over a book of ancient curses.
“Hardly,” Caliban scoffed. You shook your head, telling yourself that you knew better, and kept piling up books. “But I’d be a more benevolent ruler.”
Disappointment warped into anger again. Your shoulders bunched up as you turned to him, and you tugged them back down as you threw the books in your hand back onto the table. “Yeah, of course, you think that’s better. That it makes all this better! You know, that’s your problem. You and Harvey are the exact same, you know that? You’re both so full of-”
“Shh.” Caliban raised a finger to his lips, looking around, which only made you angrier. Screw him for thinking he could tell you what to do. You were about to start snapping at him again when he whispered, “There’s something in here with us.”
Your arms fell back to your sides as you quieted down. You couldn’t see anything as you looked around the room, but the shadows seemed to grow darker. Darker and darker. They swirled into unnatural shapes as something rasped around you, wind blowing the pages back and forth on the table in front of you.
A plague upon all mortals who enter Hell.
It wasn’t so much spoken as it was whispered directly into your head, rattling around angrily as it ransacked your skull.
Death to the daughter of the winged and taloned demon of the night.
Caliban grabbed your hand so quickly that you barely had time to process the words he muttered furiously as the shadows crept closer. He pressed his other hand to the open book on the table as he finished and everything melted into a familiar white light.
You were retching on the edge of a forest by the time your sight came back again. Clutching onto Caliban’s yellow t-shirt to keep your balance, you tried to stand up straight again.
“What the hell was that?” you asked, still out of breath as you frowned at your surroundings. You didn’t recognize any of the trees or the way the land crested and fell to knit together. “And where are we?”
“Those were the wraiths of reapers,” Caliban said. He held onto your arms to keep you upright as he assessed the forest in front of you. He looked back down at you, a little more coldly than you were used to. “I told you that day on the shores to be careful in Hell or you’d draw something out.”
“It’s not like I was trying to!” you snapped, anger giving you the strength to push him away and stand on your own. You shot him a glare and crossed your arms over your chest.
“Could have fooled me,” he said. Anger tinged his words and you pulled back slightly. Cold was one thing but anger was another. “With such a dark cloud around you, it’s amazing you didn’t call the hounds themselves on us.”
“Okay, you know what, why don’t you just-” A sharp pain shot through your head and your threat died on your lips. You took a breath and rubbed your face. Humans weren’t made for back-to-back teleporting. But you weren’t human anymore, were you? “Let’s just try to get out of here in one piece, alright? Now, where exactly is here?”
Caliban clenched his jaw and his gaze flicked back to the forest before settling on you again. “When the wraiths appeared, the quickest way to get out of here was to place us in the safe haven of the spellbook. The only problem is that with all the wind … I'm not sure where we ended up.”
“Well, what was the book about?” you asked, shifting your weight from foot to foot as you looked around the forest. You couldn’t tell if the forest felt wrong because something was off or because of how things were between you and Caliban.
“Petrifaction in Greek myths,” Caliban answered. “So chances are we’re either in the myth of Pygmalion-”
“Or Medusa?” you guessed, eyes settling on his. He nodded and you bit the inside of your cheek. “So how do we get out of here?”
“We wait for the story to run its course,” he said. “We don’t have to get involved?” you asked hesitantly. He shook his head and a knot in your upper back untangled. You could get out of this safely as long as you let Medusa turn some long-dead people to stone. It felt too easy. “Then let’s find a place to wait this out.”
You chose a direction and started walking, part of you waiting for Caliban to say something and another relieved that he was letting you walk in silence. It gave you the chance to think about everything Lilith told you earlier.
“The cloud is starting to come back,” Caliban warned after maybe an hour of walking. “Are you going to tell me about what’s bothering you or are we going to wait and see what comes out of these woods?”
“I’ll take my chances with the wolves,” you said, looking at him over your shoulder. He cut the nonchalant smile you threw at him in half.
“No.” Caliban caught your arm before you could swing it back around and then stopped walking. “We’ve got nowhere else to hide if something comes after us.”
Maybe it was his steely resolve or the fact that he actually did seem concerned under that well-worn apathetic safety blanket of an expression, but you felt some part of you cave. You couldn’t tell him about Lilith - you couldn’t tell anyone about Lilith - but maybe you could talk about something else.
“What did you talk to Sabrina about when you went to Hell?” Caliban leaned back slightly and frowned for a second before recovering.
“That’s what this is about?” he asked. He must have realised that his voice came out too gently because then he added, “It almost sounds like you’re jealous, love.”
“I knew this was pointless,” you scoffed, looking him dead in the eye as you pulled your arm back. “And I’m not jealous, by the way, I’m frustrated.”
“Sexually?” You rolled your eyes and ignored the heat in your cheeks as you started walking again. A pretty trainwreck was still a trainwreck, and you had no desire to buy a ticket to ruin. Well, you had a little desire, but you stomped it down.
“I asked her to marry me.”
You stopped dead in your tracks, but you didn’t turn back to look at him.
“The challenges would end, balance would be restored.” The undergrowth crunched as he closed the distance between you, slowly and deliberately. “We’d wipe out the pagans and your life would go back to the way it was.”
A final crunch as he stopped next to you - waiting for you to say something, probably - and lifted a hand to move the hair off your neck. Slow, deliberate sparks skated across your neck where his fingers touched. If he saw the necklace, he didn’t say anything.
“That is still what you want, isn’t it?” You turned to look at him, accidentally making his hand cup your neck in the process, and said in your well-worn apathetic security blanket of a voice, “Let’s find shelter before the sun sets.”
Something flashed across his face, but all Caliban did was take a step back and let his hand fall to his side. “As you wish.”
He was infuriating.
After what felt like another eternity of walking, Caliban stopped, holding a finger to his lips. It sent shivers down your spine, reminding you of when he did the same thing in Hell’s Library. He nodded his head to the man on the other side of the lake.
Caliban dropped his head to whisper in your ear, “You were right about being in the tale of Medusa, but we were wrong about which part that is.”
“So where are we?” you asked quietly, doing your best to keep focused on the fact that he wanted to marry your best friend and not on the fact that his lips were dangerously close to your face.
“Just before the end. Where Perseus slays her and returns a god among men,” Caliban said, turning his head to look at you. So close.
“What?” you whisper-yelled, moving back in the process to look at the guy across the lake. There was no way that guy, with armor too big for him who still hadn’t noticed your presence, was going to slay Medusa. Caliban rolled his eyes at the dramatics of your outburst. “We can’t let him kill her.”
“Why not?” he asked. “The sooner it happens, the sooner I get back to Hell and you get back to your friends.”
“Because she didn’t deserve this. Any of this.” You gestured vaguely at the forest she’d been exiled to. “Poseidon was the one who raped her in Athena’s temple, but Medusa was the one who got cursed while he just got to go back to surfing or whatever the hell it is he does.” You shook your head. “We’re stopping this.”
“Y/N,” Caliban warned. “Messing with time is a dangerous thing.”
The warning was earnest enough, but that didn’t stop you from leaning in and giving him a once over before saying in a low voice, “I thought you had an affinity for dangerous things.”
He seemed dismayed for a moment. Clearly, whatever he expected you to say wasn’t nearly as manipulative as it had been, and you couldn’t tell if he was impressed or betrayed by the change of heart.
“If we intervene-” his voice was soft, like he was trying on a new way of talking to you “-we may be stuck in this time forever. Is that a risk you’re willing to take?”
You didn’t know how to answer, but something in your face must have indicated that you were on board with the risk because Caliban took a breath and continued.
“You need to do everything I say, and you can’t go off on your own. Understand?”
“Don’t step off the road, got it.”
Caliban looked at you with another inexplicable expression - maybe because you wanted to intervene, maybe because you were echoing words from the first conversations you’d ever shared - before heading off in the direction of the soldier.
“Excuse me, traveler.” His voice boomed in the near-silent forest and you held your breath. “My betrothed and I seem to be lost. Could you spare a moment to guide us out of this infernal wood?”
Perseus straightened as Caliban spoke, the mental assessment of the situation clear on his face. You shrunk behind Caliban, trying to hide your jeans and sweatshirt and anything else that didn’t belong in this time period behind his jeans and t-shirt and anything else that didn’t belong in this time period. But everything about Caliban fit, no matter where (or when) he was.
“Afraid not, sir,” he said, deciding that the oddness of your appearance wasn’t worth the risk. “I’m on a predestined quest. Best of luck on your travels.”
Perseus started collecting his things to walk away but Caliban leaned down and put out a hand, careful not to make physical contact with him. While Perseus focused on the outstretched hand, Caliban touched the helmet on the ground with his other hand. “Tell us about your quest, soldier.”
“The demon Medusa has nested in these woods. I’ve been tasked with hunting her down by the gods,” Perseus said. His face was set in a hard line, his knuckles white around the satchel in his hand.
“Surely there have been others who’ve tried to slay the Gorgon,” Caliban said, laying on the demonic charm like only a boy with his bone structure could.
“None like me,” Perseus said with a knowing smile. “Now, I’ll be on my way. Careful through the woods.”
“Of course,” Caliban said, taking a step back and holding both hands palm-up to show he meant no harm.
Though you couldn’t see it from behind his back, you knew he was giving Perseus that smile that meant he knew something the receiver didn’t. Neither of you moved as Perseus shouldered his belongings and disappeared into the trees.
You smacked his arm lightly as Caliban turned to look at you again. “What was that?” you whispered angrily. “That wasn’t stopping him!”
“You’ll remember Perseus was given three gifts to complete his quest,” Caliban said, in a way that (correctly) implied that you didn’t remember. “That was stealing the most important one.” He closed his eyes and held out his hands. When he opened them again, there was Perseus’ banged up helmet. “Hades’ helm of invisibility.”
“Now what?” you asked, voice quiet. The anger had completely dissipated from your voice; it had to or it would break whatever held the helmet together.
Caliban smiled at you as he lifted the helmet over your head. He eased it down slowly, making a clear attempt not to tug at your hair. “Now we follow him straight to the Gorgon.”
---
Even though he seemed very sure of himself, you weren’t entirely sure Caliban knew what he was doing. He kept checking over his shoulder to make sure you were still there but he was met with the emptiness of the forest instead. After the first two attempts to see where you were, you reached out and curled your fingers around his to let him know you were right there.
There. Now we won’t look suspicious.
I’m afraid that ship has sailed, love.
Then he stopped walking and raised a finger to his lips, a gesture you were slowly starting to find more endearing than annoying. “Perseus has reached the mouth of the cave,” he whispered. “Stay here and I’ll put an end to this.”
“How will you stop him on your own?” you asked, tightening your grip on his hand when he tried to slip out of your grasp.
“You almost sound concerned,” Caliban said, annoying smile forming on his face again as he tilted his head. You were glad he couldn’t see you blush under the helmet. “Have faith, love, I’ll be back soon.”
If you didn’t let him leave now, you’d never live it down. Hesitantly, you let go of his hand and watched him start towards the cave, wringing out your hands as you did. How were you supposed to wait here when rule number one was to stay together?
Technically, you thought to yourself, rule number one was to do as Caliban said, but that was never going to happen and you both knew it. Deciding that not splitting up was more important, you started following after him before you lost your nerve.
When you eventually made it to the cave, you found Caliban and Perseus in the middle of a fistfight. Caliban dodged a blow from the sword, but it left him open to Perseus’ attack with his shield.
“Yield, heretic!” Perseus yelled as he knocked Caliban to the floor.
“Oh, piss off,” Caliban spat, clearly unconcerned about the sword aimed at his chest as he started pushing himself to his feet.
You, however, were very concerned that Perseus looked ready to run him through, so you rushed forward and slammed his arm with your elbow. You managed to knock the sword out of his grip. He didn’t seem to process it for a second, but then he growled, “That helmet belongs to me, thief.”
Perseus lunged at you, and you were caught off-guard by the accuracy of his attack. He grabbed you by the throat and had you pinned against the wall. Only a few seconds passed while he strangled the life out of you, but they were a few too many before Caliban skewered Perseus with his own sword.
He choked out a few asphyxiated words as he dropped his hands to look at his wound, and you used his surprise to headbutt him into next week.
“Ow!” you whined, shaking your head as Perseus fell to the ground. “I thought the helmet was supposed to protect my head.”
“Helmets forged during the Titanomachy are hardly foolproof,” Caliban said, stepping over Perseus’ body to check on you. Or at least, where he thought you were.
He was a few inches off, and your heart melted at his attempt to touch the empty air. Lifting your hands to his, you guided him to the side of the helmet. He slipped it off gently and his bloody face broke into a smile when his eyes met yours.
“Thanks for not letting him kill her,” you said quietly.
A voice in your head politely reminded you that Sabrina hated him.
“Thanks for not listening to me,” Caliban said.
You reminded the voice that Sabrina wasn’t here right now.
There was a moment where the two of you held the helm between you in silence, hands on fire at the touch. A moment where your heart raced and you hoped he’d do something more - where you thought he’d kiss you - but it disappeared as soon as the hissing started.
“Perseus lives,” a woman said as she stepped out from the darkness of the cave. There was something in her voice that you couldn’t place. “Despite your best effort, Prince of Clay.”
“Those really weren’t my best efforts,” Caliban said, lifting the helmet so quickly that your hands were still frozen in front of you as he set it back on your head. He shut his eyes once he was sure you were invisible.
“How noble. If I can’t see her, then I can’t turn her to stone,” Medusa cooed. You turned to look at her, praying that she was right and you wouldn’t turn into a statue. She was beautiful; soft, olive skin and round brown eyes, delicate hands and a striking face. The snakes in her hair seemed to think she was pretty, too. “But I can see you.”
“We mean you no harm,” Caliban said. There wasn’t quite fear in his voice, but there was clear apprehension. “Perseus will rot if not treated and his quest will die with him.”
“No, it won’t,” Medusa said. That’s when you realized what was in her voice: sadness. “There will be Perseuses as long as I petrify the ones I love. You’ve delayed this one but you haven’t stopped my fate, and you’ll be here for as long as it takes.”
“So what do you want us to do?” Caliban asked. He opened his eyes to look the spot you were supposed to be, to make sure that you knew he was asking you, even if he spoke to Medusa. Your voice caught in your throat. “Do we go free? Leave the woods and start new lives - together?”
Medusa was close enough to you now that she reached out a perfect hand and ran a finger along his jaw. “To return home, you need to kill me,” she said, choosing not to entertain the idea of you running away together. What a nice idea it had been. “A death with dignity is better than what these heroes have in store.”
“The whole point of this was to make sure you wouldn’t die,” you argued before you could stop yourself. You didn’t know why; you needed to go home, but you still wanted something more. Medusa deserved something more.
“Everything dies, daughter of night,” Medusa said. She gazed where you should have been, but her eyes found nothing but the cave walls. “And everything gets reborn, if you wait long enough.”
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Caliban asked, already gripping the sword in his hands.
“Yes,” she said. She took a step back and closed her eyes so Caliban could look at her safely.
“Caliban, you can’t-”
“Don’t fear for me, little one,” Medusa said. Her snakes hissed in your direction as she comforted you. “You’ll see me again.”
You didn’t know what else to say as Caliban raised Perseus’ sword. With one great swing, he cut off her head. The snakes’ scream shrieked in your skull as the cave faded into white, distorting everything around you again.
“Y/N?” Caliban asked once you were back in Hell’s library. The reaper wraiths were long gone, books torn apart and strewn throughout the room. He called out for you again, this time louder and more frantic and snapping you out of your stupor.
“I’m here, Caliban,” you said, taking off the helmet and reaching out to him. “I’m right here.”
He was still bloody and bruised, but relief flooded his face as he looked at you. “I feared I lost you to the pages in the book,” he said. His voice was softer than you’d ever heard it.
“You almost sound concerned,” you said, tilting your head just like he had earlier.
Caliban smiled like he knew something you didn’t and looked down at the sword in his hands, both covered in blood from the gashes in his forearms. “Perhaps I should take you back to your friends before the wraiths return,” he said, taking slow, deliberate steps towards you.
“Perhaps,” you repeated, shifting the helmet to one hand and closing the distance between you.
Looking up at him, you were asking him to do something. Daring him to make a move. Challenging him to let you know he felt. All these questions, and you asked them without words.
He was looking down at you, too. Challenging you in his own, infuriating way.
“Would you really have run away with me back there?”
Your words hung in the air for a moment before Caliban lifted a bloody hand to the side of your face.
Sabrina hated him.
“Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing.”
He was looking at your lips, fingers light as they kissed your cheek.
“I asked you first.”
You looked at his lips, fingers less delicate as they rose to his chest.
“Yes, you did.”
Sabrina wasn’t here right now.
Part 5
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