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trinityperry19 · 5 years ago

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Masterpieces Chapter 3

Caliban x OC story

chapter 2: https://witchy-romance.tumblr.com/post/190519639680/masterpieces-chapter-2

When angels fall from Heaven does Hell embrace them?

Ophelia is defiant and opinionated. When her morals get her thrown from Heaven she’ll end up where she never expected, as the right hand of Hell’s own prince.

Chapter 3 is here and thanks for all the love you’ve been showing chapters 1 and 2! It’s midterm season so forgive the delay.

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“One more confession, discretion’s not what I need to sell”

Ophelia studied her back in a large mirror, the two lines that marked where her wings had been where still visible, but looked like old scars now. Sitting down she studies the room she had been given. Torched held up by twisted iron on the wall illuminated the simple black slate floor and stone walls of the room, the walls and her bed were draped with red silk that looked like liquid ink in the fire light. She wore a black satin robe Caliban had lent her as her own clothes had been ruined in the river Styx. She ran a hand through her wet hair and the water made her skin tingle.

“Unholy water” she mumbled. She could feel the same magic potential that had been in her blood her whole life, but now if felt darker, and much more volatile. She raised her hand to her eyes and focused, black lightning crackled between her fingers, she flicked her wrist and it showed at the wall across the room leaving a dark burn in the stone. She smiled at it.

“Easy on the decor doll” a voice said from behind her, she wheeled around and extended an already sparking hand at the intruder, quickly to lower it once she recognized the cocky smirk and wide shoulders of Caliban.

“Do you always appear unannounced” she questions with a grin.

“I think the fiery explosion is enough announcement” he retorted with a grin “enjoying your new power?” he asked.

“It’s not new,” Ophelia replied carefully, it’s still the same source, “just different, more… violent”.

Caliban studied her “yes well, now there is no one forcing you to control what is your’s is there”.

Ophelia raised her head to meet his eyes “yes” she nodded.

Caliban stepped closer, so they almost stood toe to toe, maintaining eye contact. Ophelia raised a questioning eyebrow at him and he smirked, pushing a brown leather bag into her chest and stepping back. “I found you clothes, I think they’ll suit you” he said with a deliberate wink, making Ophelia’s face heat up despite herself. He turned and walked out of the room.

Ophelia shook her head, quickly shouting after him, “Their better be proper armor in this bag Prince or so help me-”

She heard a laugh from the hallway but got no other response. With a sigh she turned to the bag and poured its contents onto the bed. A few minutes later she stood in front of her mirror in leather leggings that were surprisingly easy to move in with a black satin slip over her shoulders that was belted numerous times by zig-zagging, sturdy leather straps from under her chest to around her hips. The black slip split into two almost floor lengths strips that ran down the front and back of her legs, mimicking a slit dress. She had dark leather combat boots and gloves, with straps that matched the ones around her core. It was armor enough, easy to fight in but light enough to show her opponent that she wasn’t really expecting them to be strong enough to touch her. She studied her appearance in the mirror, “well” she muttered “it is very fallen angel”.

She stepped into the hallway curiously, the corridor was narrow with high ceilings and was lit by red burning torched. Shoulders back she walked down the hall, taking random turns and peeking her head into odd doors she passed, she opened one that released a spiraling staircase which she slipped through quickly, not really caring if she got lost. The stairs went on for what felt like eternity, eventually opening into a carvers lined with armor, swords and any weapon imaginable. She ran her hand mindlessly long handles of spears as she walked around the room, pausing when the texture of wood suddenly became cool and metallic, she looked up to see a onyx synth, maybe a foot shorter than she was with a foot and a half long curved blade on either end. Slowly she wrapped her hand around the middle and pulled in from the rack, the weapon was surprisingly light and felt natural in her grip.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” a cold female voice echoed through the chamber, Ophelia quickly dropped the scythe, and spun around letting her hand crackly with electricity. She was faced with a middle aged woman with dark hair and a crown of coiling skeletal fingers.

“Who are you?” Ophelia asked sharply. The women studied her carefully and stepped closer.

“I am Lilith, the queen of Hell that you have been recruited to de-throne, Ophelia” she spoke calmly and deliberately. Ophelia flinched when she said her name.

“How do you know that?” Ophelia asked sharply, the lighting in her hand crackling higher.

“I know everything that goes on in my realm dear, and please, put away the fireworks”

Ophelia glared at Lilith, but closed her fist, suffocating the sparks.

“Lilith… you were Satan’s lover right?” Ophelia dared question.

Lilith’s face turned sour, “A mistake, but it would appear that I am the victor in the end, given this crown” she said calmly, but Ophelia sensed anger and pain underneath it. Ophelia looked her in the eye “I know what it is to be blinded by loyalty” she said cautiously. Lilith glared at this “then why are you so quick to do it again”.

“Pardon?” Ophelia raised a questioning brow as Lilith took a step closer.

“A work of advice, men want power, they want women below them not by their side, do you understand?”.

Ophelia stepped closer to meet her eyes “I am not you Madame, my power is my own and I serve myself”.

Lilith gave her a pitying smile “It’s not your strength I question, but your heart, I suggest you protect it little angel”.

With that she turned and walked to the bottom of the stairs “keep the scythe, it suits you” she called over her shoulder “build your walls high if you know what’s good for you”.

With that she disappeared up the spiraling stairs and when Ophelia ran after her she was gone.

Back in the maze of the castle Ophelia wandered, lost. All the halls were starting to look the same and she had stumbled into many unsavory rooms thinking they were her own. Suddenly a flaming spiral erupted in front of her and Caliban walked out with that studied confident shit eating grin “lost are we?” he asked playfully. Ophelia studied him carefully, Lilith’s words echoing in her head. She didn’t like the queen of hell very much but her warning still gnawed at Ophelia.

“Your staring. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m admittedly very attractive or if you’re deciding whether or not to test that knew blade of your’s” Caliban said with a boyish smile.

Ophelia met his eyes with a contrastingly serious face.

“When you spoke to the kings…you mentioned a challenge, and a prophecy” she asked carefully..

“Oh that, I suppose I do owe you an explanation, walk with me” he said, starting down the hall. Ophelia followed, catching up to his side as he began to talk.

“Satan has been… compromised. Currently Lilith holds the throne…tradition states that to challenge for the throne of hell, a candidate must compete for the title against the current sovereign. The prophecy is an old text the kings found, very cryptic, but it foretells that the flesh of hell and blood of heaven will unite to replace Satan and raise hell to new frontiers”. Ophelia nodded at the explanation.

“So you think I am the ‘blood of heaven'’’ she murmured.

“It’s not every day an angel lands on the shores of this realm, I’d say there is little doubt. The explanation is more practical than that as well. Satan is worshiped because he lends his power to his followers as only a celestial can, so if witches are warlocks are to pray to me, a celestial like you is needed to reward them”.

Ophelia’s expression hardened. She stepped in front of the Prince, forcing him to stop and met her eyes which held an expression of steel.

“Pray to me” she said sharply “when they need strength they will pray to the sword, for guidance and purpose they will turn to you”. Caliban stiffened at the coldness in her voice.

“That’s what I meant…forgive me, I’m still not used to our alliance”.

Lilith’s words came back in her head “they want women below them not by their side”.

“I’ll forgive when I see you put your money where your mouth is, understand?” she said with dark evenness in her voice.

Ophelia almost smirked, Caliban looked nervous! He quickly covered his expression with a smirk.

“Understood” he said confidently, before stepping around her to open large double doors into a sprawling throne room which was already occupied by the demon kings, Lilith, and a short white haired girl who Ophelia swore she had seen before.

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trinityperry19 · 5 years ago

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Masterpieces Chapter 2

Caliban x OC story

chapter 1: https://witchy-romance.tumblr.com/post/190488605050/masterpieces-chapter-1

When angels fall from Heaven does Hell embrace them?

Ophelia is defiant and opinionated. When her morals get her thrown from Heaven she’ll end up where she never expected, as the right hand of Hell’s own prince.

Welcome to chapter 2 and thank you for reading! I will be making a master list once I figure out how…if anyone can help please message me!

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“Every word is calculated, never questioned or debated”

So far hell had less fire that she had expected, but a great deal more fog. Ophelia could hardly see 10 feet in any given direction as they walked through the forest.

“Where exactly are we going” Ophelia questioned as she swore they passed the same tree for the tenth time “is this some trap or are you just lost”.

Caliban shook his head “so suspicious, no, it would seem the Forest of Torment is getting to you”

“Forest of Torment” Ophelia muttered as she studied the foggy overgrowth.

“It will do what it can to take your very will, let you think you are lost, haunt you with voices, I do not recommend leaving this path”.

Ophelia frowned at the tree she had seen so many times, “it’s not like I have will for it to take”.

Caliban studied her out of the corner of his eye “you are finally free of your false god, why dispare?”

“Trapped in hell is not my idea of freedom”

“You have strength to take anything you want celestial, if you wish to leave I doubt anyone will stop you”

“Maybe there is simply no way to achieve what I truly desire”

“And what could possibly be so out of reach”

“The fall of heaven, for all to see that holiness is a lie and that their God is no more merciful than Lucifer”

“Then perhaps we have more in common than you think” Caliban murmured with a smirk.

Ophelia shook her head “your kind would have the mortal world in ashes and under your thumb, I would have it free, we are not the same,” she growled.

Caliban stepped in front of her, looking down and raising her chin to meet his eyes “and what do you presume to know of my kind Angel? When you would hunt and kill us for sport”.

Ophelia struggled to find words to refute his insult but lost her chance to retort as Caliban turned his back to her quickly.

Looking over his shoulder Ophelia could make out three figures, with crowns of their own twisted flesh. Caliban addressed the three demons “What do you three want now?” he asked with indifferent annoyance, but Ophelia swore she saw him tense.

“Your challenge approaches Prince of Hell yet you waste your time wandering with whores” claimed the one in front, stepping forward and grabbing Ophelia by the arm, pulling her out from behind Caliban in front of the other demons.

Caliban growled at the demon “let her go”. Beelzibub chuckled, his companions joining in. “Fond of her are we?” asked one, approaching Ophelia to grab her as well. As the demon reached for her, his arm brushed the blood soaked back of her shirt and he recoiled with a hiss as his fless burned.

“Celestial” he hissed, the other two backed off immediately. They turned on Caliban with newfound rage, “you dare bring that into our realm!” they growled and jeered. Caliban looked at Ophelia with a weighted glance, before turning calmly to the three Kings of Hell and addressing them with open palms.

“She is not of Heaven anymore, she is disgraced as your Lucifer once was” he continued with a smile “don’t you see how powerful a weapon she could be, if I am to fight a celestial’s daughter should I not have equal power with which to oppose her? Flesh of hell and blood of heaven, is that not what your little prophecy says? Well I have found you heaven’s blood”.

Caliban stepped over to Ophelia, placing a deliberate arm around her and she flinched and tried to pull away but he held firm.

“Does Hell’s new sword not please you?”.

The Kings glared at her for a minute before stepping aside and whispering amongst themselves. The one called Beelzebub stepped forward,

“we see your point, if this angel is loyal to you then she may stay, but one wrong move and know, her kind are our favorite to torture” with that the three kings dissapeared in flames.

Ophelia turned on Caliban as soon as they were gone, drawing her dagger with murderous intent.

“Weapon? I am not some tool to be used Prince” she spat, she held the tip of her dagger to his chest and watched his flesh burned slightly under it “holy water stings, doesn’t it”. To her surprise, Caliban didn’t flinch away from the pain, he looked her dead in the eyes and stepped forward, forcing her to take on step back.

“I didn’t mean that Ophelia, but it was what the kings needed to hear” he said evenly, looking her in the eyes as if to prove he was telling the truth.

“Why should I believe-” Ophelia was started out of finishing her words as a burning feeling spread from the dagger into her palm. She dropped the knife and stumbled back staring at her blistered hand in shock.

“Holy water..” she mumbled as she saw stars start to fill her eyes and reached behind her to feel the bleeding scars on her back gush blood faster. She saw a foggy looking Caliban reach out for her and tried to pull away from him…then black.

Ophelia woke up for the second time with her face in the sand. Coughing she looked up slowly and glared at the figure sitting a few feet away.

“Where did you bring me Prince?” she said darkly. Caliban looked over lazily,

“I see your not one for thank you’s” he said with a grin, “we are at the river styx.

Slowly Ophelia sat up, feeling mud crack over her back as she moved, she reached behind her and found her scares covered in clay.

“Don’t go ruining my hard work now” Caliban said, moving over to her side, “unless you want cracks all over your back forever”.

“What did you do?” Ophelia asked in confusion, trying to look over her shoulder.

“Have I explained that I am made of clay?” he asked with a smirk.

“No, you didn’t, you also didn’t mention that you’re Prince of Hell” she said in frustration.

“Now your changing the subject, I am intimately aware of how magic can turn mud to flesh, so I figured I would plug those horrendous holes in your back before you died of blood loss, your welcome” he explained calmly.

Ophelia studied him carefully, trying to decide what to think, eventually she mumbled “I suppose a broken weapon isn’t useful” fixing him with a glare.

Caliban looked over at her intently “what is so horrible to you about my proposition! We could be allies! We could take on heaven if we worked together, we could claim the mortal world in the name of hell!” he spoke with confidence, holding her gaze.

Ophelia met his eyes with equal fire “so they could be controlled and misleed and made to praise another liar of a god?” she spat back.

“No” Caliban said, unfazed by the venom in her tone “we could let them be free to ask how they wish, to love, to hate, to sin and to think for themselves what is right” he reached out and grabbed her hand, holding it in both of his, he spoke slowly but with power as he said “and when people need power to free themselves from that control they will pray to the fallen angel, the sword of hell, for that power”.

Ophelia studied his eyes, looking for a reason to turn away but he was saying everything she wanted. She wanted to trust him and he wasn’t giving her any reason not to, and really, what choice did she have, she couldn’t wander hell alone. She looked back into stormy eyes with equal fire behind her own,

“I will be your ally prince of hell, but never your servant”. She said with steely determination.

Caliban’s smile looked both genuine and devious as he said “so we have a deal”. He stood and offered her his hand, she took it and he pulled her to her feet. They both stood facing the river and he placed a hand on her back guiding her forwards he whispered in her ear

“in the water of the Styx the clay on your back will become flesh and you will be baptized to hell”

Ophelia stepped into the water, up to her feet, then waist, then neck, it felt cold and burning and like power. She took a deep breath and dipped her head below.

Chapter 3: https://witchy-romance.tumblr.com/post/190628209980/masterpieces-chapter-3

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trinityperry19 · 5 years ago

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Masterpieces Chapter 1

Caliban x OC story

When angels fall from Heaven does Hell embrace them?

Ophelia is defiant and opinionated. When her morals get her thrown from Heaven she’ll end up where she never expected, as the right hand of Hell’s own prince.

“Careful, follow my instruction and I will show you self-destruction”

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Her back burned and her eyes stung with tears as she stared God in the eye.

A defiant scowl twisted what would have been a beautiful face into a brutal picture of rage, pain and spite.

“You had every chance to be good Ophelia” the creator’s voice boomed around her. Good. Like she was some child who had hit her sibling. Good like she was some pet that had barked to much. Considering it this way that was probably how he saw her. A disposable pet, something he might have once been passively fond of but was now thoroughly done with, Not a child of Christ, only it’s servant. The condemning voice continued,

“and yet you defy me, betray your own, and sin without remorse”.

Ophelia’s voice was rough and cracked from screams and cries as she looked to the pained and hate filled faces of her former companions, her siblings, the witch hunters she had been raised to be a part of. “He’s lying to you” she croaked “you have to bel-”.

The next thing she knew she was falling, colors rushed past but they all blurred to black, the air flashed from cold to blistering and she fell for what could have been seconds or could have been years. Falling was a foreign feeling to an angel and it terrified Ophelia.

With a bone crushing impact the fall stopped suddenly. She felt warm and rough sand under her hand and in her face. She coughed, raising her head from the earth to breath and felt a sharp pain in her side, looking down she saw a crude bend in her torso, clearly from a broken rib. Breathing heavily, she focused on the wound and it healed, slowly bending back into place. A bitter laugh left the girl’s mouth as roughly shouted “See! You banish me and still I heal, this MY power, not your’s God!”

She rolled onto her back and felt a sharp sting as sand filled the two long gashes that ran down her back. She sat up quickly and focused her energy to the wounds but they only burned more spitting with pain she could not heal. “Damn” she muttered, reaching back and looking to see her fingers covered in blood from where her wings used to be. Her beautiful, strong wings that he had taken as if they had been his to take, as if they hadn’t been her birthright and as much a part of her as her eyes and heart. As if her existence was a privileged that he could alter or destroy at will. But he couldn’t. God couldn’t destroy her so he did the next best thing, deformed her, cripples her, and threw her to earth.

Staggering to her feet, she studied her surroundings. Sand and rock stretched in either direction for miles and grey water ran out in front of her for miles, behind her loomed cliffs and ancient looking forest. Looking to her right she saw a figure approaching her from a distance, slowly she walked towards them. As she approached the figure became clearly that of a young man, with sand coloured hair. Once she was about ten meters away he called “quite the entrance, what brings you to Hell doll?”.

Ophelia choked on air “Hell?” she sputtered out.

“Where else? What, were you expecting heaven?” The figure asked with mock pity, he was now only a few meters away, close enough that she could make out his features in detail.

“I’m not dead” she answered to which the stranger cocked an eyebrow. He started slowly passing around her, making her keenly aware of the fact that she was still missing the shirt that had been ripped off when they took her wings.

“denial then, I know it can be a lot to take in but no mortal gets here without dying. I must ask though, how does a young lady like you sin enough to end up here?”.“Sin” her former God’s words echoed in her head at the word and a growl rumbles in her chest.

“I’m no mortal demon” she snarled. At this he paused, having walked around her, he now had a clear view of her back and the bleeding holes that marred it.

“Angel” he muttered, almost bewildered.

Ophelia scoffed, “not anymore clearly” tilting her head up to the sky she raised her voice to shout “Hell? Really? You would think me so low as Satan? I suppose you send everyone who dares disagree with you here!”.

The stranger completed his circle and now stood very close, stormy eyes looking into her gold ones “you insult my home, celestial”.

“Well I wasn’t raised to think very highly of it was I?” she once again turned her voice up “Not that I can place any faith in what I was raised to believe!”

The stranger studied her, intrigued “let me show you the place then, make your own opinion of it”.

She studied his face for a moment, trying to detect a trick or lie but found non “I don’t even know who you are,” she said coldly, crossing her arms over her chest.

The stranger grinned at that “Pardon my lack of manners, I am from hell after all, call me Caliban”. Ophelia almost smiled at the joke. Almost.

“Ophelia” she said shortly.

“Alright Ophelia, right this way to hell” Caliban said with a smirk turning and walking towards a red path in the sand. Ophelia looked around once more before deciding that her best option was to follow this Caliban character for now. She started after him, quickly catching up to his side. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye while still facing ahead. Without a word he pulled off his shirt and tossed it to her. Ophelia caught it in surprise but Caliban kept walking without looking back. “Hell’s not a place pretty angels should walk around looking so vulnerable,” he said. Pulling the shirt over her head she ran to catch up.

“I’m not vulnerable, I am celestial of silver blood!I could kill you right now!” she said defiantly, clearly annoyed at the demon’s comment, if slightly grateful for the shirt.

“So why haven’t you, I’m very unholy after all” he said teasingly.

Ophelia scowled at the question “unlike your kind I believe in mercy”.

Caliban scoffed “yes your false God seems very forgiving” he said coldly, motioning to her back.

A tense silence filled the air as the two continued walking.

“It’s true” Ophelia mumbles shattering the silence.

“What is?” Caliban asked.

“God…the false god…hath no mercy, it’s all an illusion, there is peace and bliss as long as you serve and obey. Disobey, even question, and you must repent or be disgraced”. Her words hung in the air. She waited to be questioned, debated and berated for questioning the savior, but there was no one to chide her here. Caliban only nodded.

“And so you left”

She laughed bitterly at that, “I fought, and yelled, and rebelled, I didn’t have the steel to leave until I was thrown from the sky”.

Silence fell between them again but it felt less straining, not quite comfortable, but bearable and almost safe.

Chapter 2: https://witchy-romance.tumblr.com/post/190519639680/masterpieces-chapter-2

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