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survivingthejungle · 4 years

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everybody wants to rule the world (caliban)

When Sabrina was 8 years old, her life got a little more unusual. Being a half witch raised by her two aunts and cousin (all full-blooded witches) in a mortuary was not a common experience for most children. But things became different when another cousin, from her mother's side of the family, came to live in the Spellman house. Her mother, Diana, had a brother, William; WIlliam married and had a daughter just two years before Sabrina was born. She was named Genevieve Sawyer, and she and her paternal cousin had been very close to one another their entire lives. When it was heard that William had been shot and that Genevieve's mother was not fit to parent, the girl's cousin and family immediately stepped up to take her in and be her legal guardians.

Despite Genevieve's unfortunate circumstances, she never lost her bright personality or kindness. She seemed to stick out like a sore thumb in the Spellman house from time to time, but it was a welcome change of pace for everyone who lived there. For the next eight years after she had gone to live with her cousins and aunts, she had grown into a compassionate, driven young lady. Growing with her were several pets she had acquired over the years. Genevieve had a special love for animals and so had adopted many. She had a spotted turtle named Tucker, whom she had rescued from getting run over by a truck one morning. She also had an orange tabby cat named Tex, a green budgie named Pico, and a blue pit bull terrier named Bambi. The latest addition to the family was an albino ball python, whom she was currently in the process of naming.

"Genevieve. I mean it this time," scolded her aunt Zelda. "No more pets. You have barely enough space for them all, and I won't allow any more of this."

"No more, aunt Zelda. I got it. This guy is the last," she affirmed, gesturing with the snake which was slithering over her shoulders and down her left arm. Her aunt shuddered.

"How you can allow that thing near you is beyond me."

"She's sweet!" she defended. "She's just curious."

"She stays in your room only. If I see a snake slithering about my house I won't hesitate to kill it."

"She won't go anywhere. Promise."

Once her aunt had finished scolding her and left her room, she turned her attention back to her new friend. "What do we call you, huh?" Genevieve said. She set the snake down on her bed and flipped on her record player against the wall to fill the silence, and an old Fleetwood Mac album started spinning. "Well," she said, "I have to take Bambi and Tex on a walk, so I guess we should put you in your tank, huh?" She moved the young albino to the mostly empty tank and placed the lid over it, promising, "I'll get you some decorations while I'm out." Then she put on a pair of socks, laced up her shoes, and grabbed two harnesses and leashes from the footboard of her bed, heading downstairs to find the only two of her pets that were mammals. "Morning, aunt Hilda," she greeted the small blonde woman.

"Oh, g'morning my love! Are you taking Tex and Bambi on a walk?"

"Yeah, once I find 'em." "Well you'll eat first, won't you?" She pointed to the table. "Some toast for you."

"You're the best," Genevieve said, sitting down to take a bite of it. The toast was covered with peanut butter and sliced bananas; simple, but a favorite of the girl's. She finished eating quickly and was off again in search of her cat and dog, finding them in the family room. Tex was lounging on the couch and Bambi had seemingly been banished by him, staring at the tabby from the ground. "You wanna go on a walk?" she said to them both, her voice increasing by about an octave. Bambi's ears perked up and her eyes widened; Tex hopped down from the couch and over to circle Genevieve's legs. "Hey auntie," she called into the kitchen, "Do you know where Beans went?"

"Yes," her aunt called back, "I believe she went to go see Harvey, Roz, and Theo?"

"Okay. Thank you!" She then strapped both of the harnesses onto Tex and Bambi and put them on their leashes, and then made their way outside to their usual walking route. About halfway through their walk she and her two companions made a detour to go to Harvey's garage, where Genevieve had guessed their band would be practicing and where her cousin had gone to find them. Heading around behind his house, she found the garage door unlocked and entered in to find the four of them seemingly discussing something important.

"'Vieve," Sabrina greeted as soon as she saw her cousin. "What's up?"

"I was walking Tex and Bambi," she responded, holding up the two leashes attached to both animals. "What's up with you?"

"Sabrina's trying to take us to Hell," Theo told her.

Genevieve's eyebrows raised and she went to take a seat on the couch closest to her. "Why?" she asked Sabrina.

"Nick." She said his name sadly; she knew her cousin missed him a lot and felt guiltier every day she left him trapped there. "I think I found a way to get him out."

"But, like… He's still…" Genevieve trailed off, not knowing how to formulate her thoughts exactly.

"Yes," she responded, knowing what the girl was getting at. "A flesh Acheron. But I might have a solution for that too."

—

Sabrina had brought the five of them through Dorian's portal to Hell with an incantation, where they landed on a cold, dark beach, coughing up the salt water that had gotten into their lungs. "Wait, so… Hell is a beach?" Harvey asked.

"The Shores of Sorrow," Sabrina whispered hauntingly.

Theo stood up and pointed out at the water. "Guys. Look. What are those?" There were tall wooden structures standing above the waves, and from them came pained groans and wails. Hands were reaching out, desperate to grab whatever would come close to them.

"They're the souls of the damned," called a deep, unfamiliar voice. The group turned their heads to look for the source, and saw a large sandcastle and someone walking out from behind it. He had blond hair and was wearing a flowing white shirt that he had left unbuttoned. "They drown as the tide rolls in. Over, and over," he said, looking out at them, "For all eternity."

"Bummer," Genevieve whispered to Roz.

"Hi," Sabrina greeted him as the group approached him. "We're looking for Lilith." He didn't respond. "Uh, Madame Satan? S-Queen of Hell?" The boy looked pointedly at her, on the verge of a smirk. "She's in Pandemonium, if you happen to know the way." He turned his head and pointed left. Sharp jaw, Genevieve thought.

"All blood flows to Pandemonium." Sure enough, there was a large rock through which blood was flowing, that seemed to turn into a path further up the beach. "Follow the blood-red road where it flows, and there you'll find the throne of Hell," he instructed, still pointing.

"Thanks," Sabrina said. He pushed his hair back from the wind blowing on the beach, smirk still present. What does he know that we don't? her cousin wondered. "And you are?"

He seemed as if he were about to respond, but decided against it. "Never step off the road," he advised. He looked at their feet then. "It's clever you're wearing dead men's shoes. Though… any demon worth his salt can smell mortal flesh a mile away."

Genevieve's brows furrowed. "Ew." The boy glanced at her and then turned back to his project.

"Come on," Sabrina said, "Let's go." The four trailed behind her, but Genevieve stayed still for a moment. "Hey! I like your sandcastle," she called to the boy. He looked back at her, intrigued. "Bye!" she waved. He lifted a hand in return, and she was on her way.

—

The journey through hell had been… adventurous, to say the least. Between the field of crucified people beating eaten by crows, to the forest with a magical flower and a bloodthirsty tin man, to a horrific mock-high school classroom, Genevieve and the others were exhausted, scared, and ready to go back to earth. After being rescued by Lilith's helper, a man dressed in a bellhop's outfit and being seated at some hellish feast, she and Sabrina began a conversation about getting Nick out of Hell and taking care of Theo's uncle's soul as well. The Infernal Kings weren't recognizing Lilith's newfound authority, so she struck a deal with Sabrina- the throne for her boyfriend and her friend's uncle. Sabrina, of course, agreed, and the process had begun.

—

"Infernal court, I bid you welcome," Lilith greeted from the throne. The three demonic kings stood before her in wait. "The city of Pandemonium has an honored guest. May I present to the hordes, Sabrina Morningstar, daughter of Lucifer Morningstar." Sabrina walked to stand next to the woman and looked around the throne room. "In his absence, she has come to officially declare me Queen of Hell. Isn't that right, Sabrina?"

"Yes, that's right," she told them.

"This is treason! Heresy!" the Kings protested. "Lilith is a concubine, not a queen. We do not recognize her. She was Lucifer's whore. The realms are in chaos, and the Earth, the Pit, the Heavens, the Cosmos, they all reject Lilith's claim to the throne."

"And who do you propose would rule?" she shot back.

That was the million dollar question, it seemed, because the Kings got a nefarious look in their eyes. "All hail Caliban, Prince of Hell. Molded from the clay of the Pit itself, native son of the inferno, born to restore and rule our dark domain!"

"Hello again," said the supposed Prince Caliban, in yet another open top. He maintained the smug look on his face that he was wearing at their last encounter.

"Uh, hi?" Sabrina said, mildly confused.

"What is this?" Lilith questioned. "This is salvation," he told her. "Since the Dark Lord's desertion, the Nine Circles of Hell have been breaking down. I, Caliban, will restore stability and do what Lucifer failed to do… conquer the earth. Remake it as our Tenth Circle, and enslave the tribes of mortal and witch."

Before anyone else could get a word in edgewise, Genevieve spoke up. "No? You most certainly will not!" she said. He raised his eyebrows at her. "Dude. You're… you're not even a real person." Her brow furrowed. "Someone gets one good blast with a hairdryer and what happens? You dry up and crack?"

"I'm afraid that's not how it works, darling." He stepped closer. "Though you are clever for that." Yet another smirk. Smug bastard. Closer. And closer.

She glared at him. "Thanks," she deadpanned.

"You are pretty, for a mortal," he said to her. "Maybe I'll have mercy on you." He lifted a hand to beside her face and toyed with a strand of hair that had fallen out of her braid.

"Don't touch me." She slapped his hand away, and he stepped back. Sabrina and Lilith had been whispering to each other from the moment that Caliban revealed his plan. But now, she was seemingly comatic; her eyes and Nick's were both glazed over in red and they were both catatonic. But when her senses came back and her eyes returned to normal, she had adopted a newfound confidence. "No, we won't," she said to Lilith. "I am Sabrina Morningstar," she announced to the hordes, "And that throne is mine. By blood, and by birth."

"Here we go again," Harvey muttered. Genevieve chuckled.

"Yours to give me, you mean," Lilith interjected.

"No. Mine. To claim." She sat on the throne herself, and her cousin had to admit that she looked rather regal.

"We do not accept this!" the Kings argued. "The witch lives on Earth. She cannot possibly rule Hell."

"You've obviously never been to high school."

"You are a child, not a queen," another King shot.

"I am a young woman." Right on, her cousin thought.

"You cannot fulfill your father's duties." "I can," she insisted, looking at Lilith. "With Lilith as my advisor." "What?" "Isn't that what kings and queens do when they're too young to rule?" she argued. "They appoint a…" "Regent," Lilith offered. "Yes. As a matter of fact, yes." "Then you, Lilith, are my regent."

"I dispute this." Caliban, of course.

"Okay, Dirt-Man," Genevieve said. She had begun to harbor a deeply personal sense of loathing for him, especially because of how he disrespected her cousin's authority and was a raging narcissist.

After an attempted challenge for the crown, Sabrina dismissed the court and he and his clique left Pandemonium. She and the rest of the group, along with Nick and his tongue, followed Dorian's instructions and used the flower and the incantation to return home.

—

Sabrina had royally fucked up— no pun intended. After fumbling her first soul retrieval and getting locked in an industrial freezer by her second, she was beginning to lose hope. And she was running out of time. While Lilith was out searching for the wayward queen, the clay prince decided to go on his own adventure.

—

Genevieve was occupied in her cozy, bright room when a gust of spiraling flames interrupted her peace. She had been lying in her bed, reading a book and accompanied by all of her pets (which was a rare occurrence). Pico had nestled onto Tuck's shell and they were both napping. Bambi was curled up against her side and Tex at her feet, and the new snake— whose name, she decided, was Rhiannon— was also curled at the end of the bed. "Quite the companions you've got," he spoke deeply, disturbing the silence. "You!" she said, sitting up and starting all but the python. "What are you doing in my room?" she asked, exasperated.

"Here to see you, of course," he told her, sitting down on the edge of her bed. Genevieve

was still perplexed.

"...Why?"

"You amuse me, mortal. And you've caught my eye. Your friend may be the Queen of Hell—"

"Cousin," she corrected.

"Your cousin may be Queen, but it's you who's really captured my attention."

"I… Okay," she responded, brows furrowed.

"No one's ever spoken to me as boldly as you have. Especially for a mortal. If I wanted to punish you, in fact, it would be well within my rights. Even your cousin could not do anything about it; laws in Hell differ than on Earth."

"So, what. You're here to kill me? Because I threatened your ego?" Genevieve rolled her eyes and got up, Bambi following after her. She grabbed Rhiannon and carried her over to her tank, flipping the switch for her heater and closing the lid. She then grabbed Tuck, as gently as possible to allow him to keep napping, and put him in his tank as well.

"Of course not," he chuckled. "You're much too interesting. It would be a shame for your potential to go to waste." "Potential," she said, disinterested. Walking to her door, she slipped on a pair of shoes that sat against the wall. "For?"

"For you to align with me. You may not like me much now, but I'm sure you'll grow to."

"For me… I'm sorry, what? You expect me to betray my cousin for someone who wants to literally enslave my people and take over the Earth?" He said nothing. "No!" she waved her hand at him, signaling for him to leave. "Be gone. Or... whatever you say to banish demons." She left her room and headed down the hallway and to the stairs, but Caliban was not far behind. Neither was Bambi.

She made a pit stop in the kitchen to make herself a sandwich before she left the house. "Do you think me unreasonable?" Caliban asked, leaning against the counter while she worked.

"Well, yeah. Actually I do."

He grabbed her hand before she could continue. Making sure to never break eye contact, he pleaded, "Please. Let me prove you wrong." She pulled her hand away.

"Why are you so dead set on this?" she groaned. "I said no!" A frustrated laugh left her lips.

"I'll make you a deal," he pressed. She returned her attention to her sandwich and refused to look at him. "Submit to me, and I will abandon my plan to enslave the tribes of Earth." Still, silence. Genevieve pretended that he wasn't even there anymore, slipping Bambi a piece of turkey in between the two of them. Once again, Caliban brought his hand up and grabbed her chin; she couldn't turn away.

"You won't get the chance," she spat. "My cousin is the Queen. Your plan will never happen." He opened his mouth to argue, but in a split second, decided against it.

"If that's truly how you feel, then I concede. But know my offer still stands." Genevieve shrugged, straight-faced, unsure how to respond.

"Will you leave now? I have somewhere to be," she told him, putting her sandwich in a baggie and walking to the kitchen table where a backpack was hanging off the back of a chair.

"Will the lady allow me to escort her?" he countered. She threw her food, a water bottle, and a sports drink into the bag as she considered it.

"Fine, I guess." She slung the backpack over her shoulder before kneeling down to scratch and kiss Bambi's head. "Bye, Bambi!" she said, her voice having gone up at least an octave. The blue pit thumped her tail and opened her mouth in a typical pit bull smile. Without a word, she stood up and passed Caliban to go retrieve her sneakers which were sitting by the front door. He followed, attentive to her every move. She locked the door behind her on her way out and began walking into town.

"Where are you headed to?" he asked her.

"The gym. I coach junior high volleyball."

"Is that a mortal sport?"

"Yeah. I played for a long time."

"Why did you stop?"

Genevieve stayed silent for a beat. "When I was still in high school, a few colleges wanted to recruit me for their teams. I would have gone to any of them, but…"

"But what?" "Well, I don't really know what I want to do with my life. I didn't want to just up and leave my family with no plan. So after I graduated this spring, I decided to take a gap year to figure out what I want to do."

"Have you figured it out yet?" he asked. His tone seemed genuinely interested.

She stayed quiet for a while longer. "No," Genevieve admitted, dejectedly.

"Maybe you should work with animals," Caliban offered. "Really? Why?"

"You seem to like them enough, you've got several as pets."

"Yeah, that's fair. But I don't think I could ever be a vet," she claimed.

"Then don't. Try something else."

"Like what?"

"You're the mortal here, not me," he chuckled. "You know more about your options than I do." Genevieve let out a little laugh as well. "Think about it," he advised her.

"I will. Thank you, Caliban."

—

Sabrina didn't return home until well past midnight. As she walked through the front door and quietly closed it, her cousin broke her silence from the stairs. "Where you been, Beans?"

Sabrina nearly jumped, startled. "I was— Oh, Aunties," she muttered, finally facing all three of them.

"Well, do you care to explain yourself?" Zelda questioned. Sabrina glanced at Genevieve, who was leaning over the top of the banister and mouthed I didn't say anything.

"Oh, I'm sorry I missed your first day at the Academy," she apologized. "I had this prob-"

"How many secrets are you keeping from us?" Zelda interrupted.

Hilda piped up in typical good-cop fashion. "You didn't happen to go to Hell, bring back your father, the Dark Lord, and stick him in the bowels of the Academy without telling us, did you?"

"Putting what's left of the coven, not to mention the entire world, in grave peril, just so you can see your boyfriend."

"That's not why I did it," Sabrina argued.

"Oh, God. Here we go again," Genevieve muttered as Tex jumped up onto the bannister beside her. She gave his head an absent-minded scratch as she watched the scene unfold.

"Oh, I know why you did it. Cassius delivered a stack of books with rituals about soul transference… I thought the Dark Lord was bad. I thought he was dangerous, but Lilith preserve up from his demented, lovesick daughter."

"Aunt Zelda!" Genevieve shouted. "That was so uncalled for!"

"I couldn't just leave Nick in Hell!" Sabrina defended herself. "Every second he was down there, he was in torment. Aunties, every second he was in pain."

"We know, darling," Hilda tried to comfort.

"And it's my fault." Her cousin began to tear up with the thought of Nick's suffering. "He did it for me. I couldn't just… wash my hands of him." Hilda stepped off of the stairs and went to Sabrina to try to comfort her. "I owed it to Nick to at least try and get Lucifer out of his body and into someone else's."

Zelda had begun to abandon her condemnation of Sabrina's actions, instead demanding that she come up with a well thought-out plan. "Whose? Where do you expect to find another vessel strong enough to withstand being turned into a flesh Acheron for the Devil himself?"

In a moment of perfect timing, Ambrose and Prudence appeared in the front hallway with a raggedy, bearded man at their feet. "Aunties," he greeted. "I'm home." It was evident in his tone and lack of breath that he was exhausted. "Any chance of a cuppa?"

Genevieve went downstairs and followed her cousin and Prudence into the kitchen. 'Whatcha want, 'Bose?"

"Something to help me sleep, finally," he rasped. "Thank you, cousin." (They weren't really cousins, but it was how they had referred to each other since Genevieve had come to live with them those 8 years ago.)

"You too?" she asked Prudence. "Yes, please."

—

The next night, Sabrina returned home and immediately headed to Genevieve's room to de-stress from her arduous day. "That jerk Caliban challenged me for the throne," she sighed, laying down on Genevieve's bed. "Again. Legally, this time. And I had to accept it."

Her cousin took a deep breath. "Wow. He's really not letting it go, huh?"

"No. I wish he would, though."

"Well, what was the challenge? What do you have to do?"

"We're both supposed to search for the Unholy Regalia. It's a Hell thing," she explained at Genevieve's confusion. "The first item is Herod's Crown."

"H- King Herod? Like 'kill the babies' Herod?"

"That's the one."

"Jesus," Genevieve exhaled. "...No pun intended." She had been sitting on the floor with Rhiannon, watching as she explored the room, but stood up to sit next to her cousin. "Beans, you've got a lot on your plate right now. Are you sure you're gonna be okay?"

Sabrina considered her question for a moment. "No. Actually, I'm not sure. But I have to do this." She shut her eyes tight for a few seconds before opening them again and sitting upright. "And I have so much homework on top of this."

"You know what? I don't have anything to do tonight. You go to bed, I'll do your homework tonight." Sabrina smiled softly at her cousin.

"Vieve, you don't have to do that—"

"I know. But I want to. You need to rest. Besides," Genevieve said, "I already got through all of those classes once. I can do a few assignments tonight."

—

It was about eleven o'clock that same night and Genevieve was on a productive streak- in terms of getting her cousin's homework taken care of. She had advised Sabrina to talk to Ambrose the following day about looking for the crown and, subsequently, the rest of the regalia. In the midst of her focus, a gust of heat hit her and she could sense a presence in her room. She didn't even bother to turn around from her desk. "Go away, Caliban."

"I take it you've heard about my challenge, then?"

Genevieve set her pencil down and stared at him. "Do you have any idea the shit Sabrina's been going through, lately? I know you don't care, because all you want is power, but she's an actual person with other responsibilities and an entire life that she's dealing with on a daily basis. You're made of clay and you're from Hell, I get it, you must not have any sense of empathy, but this is taking a toll on everyone. You are such a raging narcissist." Caliban's smirk had dissipated by now. "Get out of my house, Caliban. I'm busy."

"You're wrong," he said. He was uncharacteristically quiet. "I can be empathetic." He sat down on the edge of Genevieve's bed, and Tex had allowed him to pet his head. "I do have emotions."

"Showing them from time to time might do you good." He said nothing, focusing his attention entirely on Tex rather than making eye contact with Genevieve. "Why are you here?" she asked, adopting a gentler tone. She felt as if she had been hard enough on him to get her point across. "Don't you have a crown to find, or something?"

"I've not yet located it. I was wondering if you've considered my offer?"

"Of course not," she scoffed. "I don't think you're gonna win. Beans may be busy, but she's smart. And talented."

"Well, she is the Dark Lord's daughter."

"Regardless. No, I haven't considered it. Is that all?"

"I hear there's a carnival in town."

Her brows furrowed momentarily. "What do you care?"

"Would it please the lady to accompany me? Tomorrow night?"

Genevieve went stiff like a deer in headlights. "Um… sure, okay. I guess?"

"You seem confused," he observed.

"Yeah, I- I am. A little. Surprised. Why do you wanna go to the carnival?"

"Is this not how mortals court each other?" he asked, standing up to lean against the desk she had been working at. He seemed his usual self again, another smirk crossing his face. "Or would you rather skip the formalities?" He winked, grinning down at her. Though she was still sitting, it was obvious that he was taller than she was.

She scoffed lightly. "Fine. I will go to the carnival with you tomorrow," Genevieve conceded. "Are you done now?"

"Are you sure you wouldn't have me spend the night?" he teased.

"Don't push it, Dirt-Man."

"As you wish," he told her, and threw his arms up, creating a vortex of fire and returning to the pits of hell.

—

Genevieve finally retired to bed at about quarter till 1 in the morning. Rhiannon was cozy in her tank and Tuck was in his; Pico was sleeping in his cage and Tex was curled up at the foot of her bed. Bambi was laying with her back to Genevieve's, but the blue pit had been awoken by a sudden presence appearing in the room. In the dark, Caliban had returned once more to the girl, this time having astral projected. Bambi's head stuck up, sniffing at him. He put his finger up to his lips and whispered to the dog, "Shh." Bambi was convinced and went back to sleep, leaving the boy to himself. He walked around until he was facing her, and he knelt down at her bedside. He rested his head on one arm while his other hand brushed some stray hairs away from her face. She looked so peaceful he was almost afraid to touch her. "Sleep well, darling girl," he whispered. "And forgive me for what I must do." Without another word, he kissed her forehead and promptly returned to his physical body in Hell.

#caliban #prince caliban #caos #caos pt 3 #sam corlett #caliban imagine #prince caliban imagine #caliban x reader #prince caliban x reader #caliban x oc #prince caliban x oc #chilling adventures of sabrina

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raven0fthenight · 5 years

Text

A Single Temptation

Crowley hadn’t meant for things to happen this way, but he just couldn’t resist the temptation. It had been a normal day and Crowley had been driving through London on his way to the bookshop when a notice in a nearby store had caught his eye. ‘Giving away baby snakes!’ he had of course been immediately interested.

Crowley rushed inside the building and made a worker guide him to the place where the baby snakes were being kept for adoption. He had been immediately greeted by five small white eggs in a tank. Next to the tank was a small pamphlet with a picture of a ball python on the cover. Crowley picked it up and found that it was about how to take care of snakes. While he didn’t usually like reading informative texts, he found himself quickly absorbed in the words in the pamphlet. After reading the pamphlet a few times, Crowley flagged down a worker and asked if he could have the snake eggs. The worker, of course, said that he could adopt them and soon Crowley found himself driving home with five small snake eggs.

As soon as he arrived back at his flat, he rushed into the plant room and miracled up a tank for the snake eggs and filled the bottom with a thin layer of dirt. He also put in a few tree branches for climbing and the like. A final demonic miracle and the tank would always have the perfect environment- humidity, temperature and the like. In the pamphlet, it had mentioned that wild ball pythons typically sit on the eggs until they hatch and Crowley rather liked the idea of being the one to protect the eggs. He gently placed the five eggs into the tank and went into his snake form, making sure he was small enough to fit into the tank with them. He slithered toward the eggs and protectively curled around them.

The pet store had told Crowley that it would take about a month or two for the eggs and he was fully prepared to sit there for as long as it took. It’s not like he needed to eat or sleep, he was a supernatural entity after all. Though, it might be a little difficult to explain to Aziraphale why he couldn’t hang out with him for lunch. Oh well, he’d think about that when it came to that.

~~~

About six weeks had passed when the snake eggs finally hatched. Crowley had been curled around them as usual when he had noticed a small fang poke through the shell of one of the five eggs. He had, of course, immediately slithered off of them and climbed out of the tank before transforming back into his human form- he didn’t want to accidentally hurt them.

Crowley watched in fascination as the baby snake pushed its small head through the shell of the egg and smelled the air with its tongue. Then it started to wiggle its way out of the egg until it finally freed its whole body. To be honest, his heart melted at the sight of the small baby snake- not that he would admit that to anyone. He leaned down over the tank and hesitantly picked up the baby snake. It instantly curled up in his hand, barely filling half his palm. Crowley lifted his hand toward his face so he could examine the snake more closely and found that it had adorable brown eyes and was a light brown with yellow markings and spots covering it.

The snake lifted its head and looked into Crowley’s eyes before curling back into his hand. He gently set it back down in the tank and waited for the other eggs to hatch. Within an hour, four more snakes had slithered out of their eggs and into the tank. Crowley had quickly picked up the remaining eggshells and disposed of them before going back to silently watching over the baby snakes- his baby snakes. Soon after they all hatched, a thought crossed Crowley’s mind.

“Should I tell Aziraphale about the baby snakes? I mean, he could help me take care of them but he might think that I’m… nice for adopting and caring for the baby snakes,” Crowley muttered while pacing back and forth through his flat. “Oh well, he’ll find out some way or another, I might as well get it over with.” Crowley sighed in disdain and walked over to his phone before dialing Aziraphale.

“Hello, this is Aziraphale speaking, how can I help you?” Aziraphale’s voice echoed through the phone.

“Hey angel, I was wondering if-“ Crowley was cut off by Aziraphale.

“Crowley! I haven’t heard from you in over a month- are you okay dear?” Aziraphale sounded quite worried.

“No no no, I’m fine angel,” Crowley reassured Aziraphale. They had both been on edge since the whole Heaven and Hell deal and were expecting them to drop by soon, but that wasn’t important at the moment. What was important was that Crowley still had to tell Aziraphale about the baby snakes. “Come over to my flat in ten minutes, okay?” Crowley blurted out and hung up the phone, face flushed red in embarrassment. “I can’t believe I thought this was a good idea,” he muttered to himself bitterly. Surprisingly, Aziraphale showed up at Crowley’s flat in only a few minutes. Crowley had been in the middle of attempting to calm himself down when a knocking on his front door had brought him out of his thoughts. He rushed to the front door and took a deep breath before opening the door. Imagine his surprise when he saw a slightly disheveled Aziraphale who appeared to be a little out of breath.

“Angel…” Crowley started before trailing off.

“I came as fast as I could! Is everything okay? Are you okay? Are you hurt in any way or-“ Aziraphale started rambling before Crowley cut him off.

“Angel, you’re rambling,” Crowley states and places his hand gently on Aziraphale’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.

“Ah sorry, I guess I’m just a little worked up,” Aziraphale flushed in embarrassment and looked shyly to the side.

“Well everything is fine, I just uh, had something to tell you,” Crowley explained, taking his hand off of Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Come on inside, angel.” Crowley led Aziraphale into his flat and stopped just outside the plant room.

“Promise you won’t laugh or call me nice or something if I show you?” Crowley questioned, unsure of what Aziraphale’s reaction would be.

“Why would I ever-“ Aziraphale started but Crowley cut him off with a glare. “Alright, I promise I won’t,” Aziraphale reassured him with a small smile.

“Fine then, come on in angel,” Crowley said and led Aziraphale into the room. He watched Azirapahle look around and noticed how his eyes widened in surprise when he finally noticed the tank.

“Oh,” Aziraphale breathed out and rushed over to the tank to kneel by it. “They’re so small.”

Crowley hummed a noncommittal noise of agreement and watched as Aziraphale leaned closer to the tank to study them.

“You can hold one if you want,” Crowley suggested and Aziraphale positively lit up.

“Where did you find them?” Aziraphale asked and turned toward Crowley with his eyes full of wonder and a small snake draped over his hand.

“Saw a sign that said ‘giving away snakes’ and I figured I might as well get some- I hatched them myself, you know?” Crowley explained, adding on the last part as a second thought.

“You did?” Aziraphale exclaimed, eyes wide in shock and Crowley nodded. “Really.”

“Of course, why else do you think I wasn’t answering your calls for a few weeks?” Crowley joked, earning an exasperated sigh from Aziraphale.

“Aren’t you a cute little snake,” Aziraphale cooed to the snake that he was holding. “Do you know what breed they are?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that they’re banana morph ball pythons,” Crowley stated.

“Ah, well they are simply adorable,” Aziraphale said and Crowley felt a small rush of pride- they were his snakes after all. “How big do they get? Oh, what do they eat? Do you think I could keep one in the bookshop? Maybe they could scare away some of the customers…” Aziraphale started rambling again.

“They get to be around 4-6 feet, they eat crickets when they’re babies and mice when they’re grown, and yes you could probably scare away customers with one if I let you take one- if.” Crowley quickly answered all of Aziraphale’s questions, hissing out the last word.

“Oh, but they would be so nice to have around the shop, please dear?” Aziraphale pleaded and Crowley had to look away or else he’d fall victim to the puppy dog eyes that Aziraphale was so fond of using. “Come on, I’ll help you take care of them!”

“Fine, but only when they’re fully grown, I don’t want them getting lost in your bookshop,” Crowley relented with a sigh of resignation.

“Thank you, dear!” Aziraphale beamed at Crowley before turning his attention back to the little snakes. “We can be godfathers again…” Aziraphale murmured, so soft that Crowley had barely heard it.

“Of course angel, anything for you.”

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This is a request I did for @aziraphaleisagender, I hope you like it!

Also posted (here) on AO3

#good omens fic #if anyone has requests just message me #or art requests for that matter

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katieinmyanmar · 4 years

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(January 18-February 14)

Min gă la ba! Welcome to my blog! Sorry this took so long to get up, I’ve been incredibly busy these last three weeks.

A quick note before I start: I use Myanmar (people here pronounce it “mee-an-mar”) and Myanmar language rather than Burma and Burmese because that is how people here refer to the country and language. I also don’t have a Myanmar language keyboard for my computer, so for Romanization of Myanmar script I use the system designed by Aye Su Mon.

Some background information on how the Peace Corps (PC, they really love their acronyms) works: for about three months we are in training (called Pre-Service Training or PST), then we move to our individual sites after swearing in as Volunteers. We will serve at our sites for two years, integrating into our communities, teaching English, training teachers, and working on community development projects. During PST, we learn about the Myanmar language, culture, and education system, as well as have technical training on how to teach English as a foreign language. They days are long and exhausting (all day six days a week), but I’m enjoying what i’m learning and it’s not too bad for the most part. I’m learning a lot, especially about Myanmar culture and language. We’ve all gotten used to being really tired and super busy. I can’t believe it’s been almost a month since I arrived—it feels like I’ve been here way longer.

The people of Myanmar are truly the kindest, most generous people I have ever met. Whether it’s a hot meal, a tuktuk ride, or simply being patient as we stumble through Myanmar language phrases, everyone has been unbelievably kind. Most people in Myanmar have rarely (if ever) seen a foreigner before, much less an American. Because of this, we attract a lot of attention whenever we go out into the city, which is perfectly fine, even though it does take some getting used to.

One of the highlights of being in Myanmar is the food. Myanmar food is very oily and sometimes spicy, but it tastes very good. Rice (htă miǹ, pronounced like “ta-min”) is served for three meals a day, usually with some meat (the shrimp curry is my favorite) and vegetables and tea. I think one of my favorite breakfasts so far has been mohinga, which is essentially a fish-based soup that you eat with green onions, cilantro, noodles, and chili peppers. Every region has its own version (and every region thinks theirs is the best), so there are many varieties.

Myanmar people don’t really do dessert, usually for dessert there is fruit or jaggery (palm sugar cubes). The other day, one of my PC friends taught the hotel staff how to make pancakes (they were very improvised but mostly worked, and the staff was pretty into it), so we had pancakes (of sorts, they weren’t really “pancakes” like Americans would think of them) for breakfast the next day. It was extremely exciting, there is a version of French toast here but so far no pancakes. Since we don’t have maple syrup (I’ve been told you can buy it in Yangon, but it’s super expensive), we ate our pancakes with honey and bananas.

On my days off, I have been going into Bago city with some of my PC friends and exploring the pagodas. Bago is not like an American city: there are not any skyscrapers or tall buildings, but there are plenty of motorbikes, trucks, and tuktuks rushing by. Crossing the street can be quite a challenge! There are also way more dogs and cats here than in America. So far I have been to the Shwemawdaw Pagoda and the Shwe Thalyaung Buddha (Reclining Buddha), as well as several other pagodas that I don’t know the names of (one had a massive Burmese Python in it, which was really cool). I have also been to the Kanbawza-thadi Royal Palace (Golden Palace) outside of Bago. All the pagodas are beautiful and the Kanbawza-thadi Royal Palace was breathtaking. Everything was golden and extremely ornate. I am really interested in Myanmar history, and I hope to learn more about it while I am serving here. I can do another post on pagodas later if there’s interest, I don’t want to make a long post even longer.

To help us learn about Myanmar language and culture, each of us has a sponsor family who lives in the community near where we are staying. In most countries, PCVs live with a host family during their service, but for various reasons we cannot do that in Myanmar. The sponsor family program is Peace Corps Myanmar’s adaption of the host family program: we eat dinner with our families about twice a week, and on Saturdays we spend the afternoon with them. My family and my friend Liz’s family are friends, so we spend a lot of time together. In my family (mí thà zú, pronounced “me taaa zoo”) are my ă meì (mother, pronounced “ah may”), ă phei (father, pronounced “ah pay”), ă ko (older brother), ă má (older sister), and nyi má leh (younger sister, pronounced “ni ma ley”). My family is loving and amazing, though it can be hard to communicate because they speak very limited English and I speak very limited Myanmar. I am learning so much from my family regardless, especially about Myanmar language. The other members of my group (cluster) and I have started bringing our language homework because our families always like to help us and teach us new words. My family is kind, loving, and generous; my ă má even took me to a tailor to get a longyi (traditional Myanmar wrap-around skirt worn by both men and women) and shirt made for me!

A few days ago we had our first English Club session. English Club is an opportunity for us to practice our teaching with Myanmar schoolchildren (sixth-eighth graders) in a Myanmar classroom. English Club is very different from the regular classroom because there are only about fifteen students (regular classrooms usually have up to 60 students) and it focuses on speaking. We were co-teaching with a partner (though I was in a group of three because we had an odd number) and had to plan a ninety-minute lesson. It was really cool to be in front of actual students, especially because before this I had only practiced with my cohort. The students were really smart and engaged, we actually felt that we had made the lesson too easy. It was difficult because we had never taught in front of students before, but we were able to improvise when our lesson finished early and the lesson as a whole went really well, so I consider it a win. I’m looking forward to doing it again, even though lesson planning is stressful I really enjoy teaching.

Now, you might be wondering how Peace Corps Trainees in Myanmar entertain themselves when there is limited Internet (except at this hotel, which has wifi!!!). The answer is lots and lots of cards (everything from President to Oh Hell), Uno, karaoke, group study sessions, and chiǹ louǹ (pronounced “chin loon,” but with a very soft n). I can’t really explain chiǹ louǹ except to describe how it’s played: everyone stands in a circle (barefoot) and tries to keep a special wicker ball in the air. The catch is that you can’t use your hands, so you have to hit the ball with your legs, feet, chest, or head.

The second thing you’re probably wondering about is the climate in Myanmar. Myanmar is tropical and has three seasons: hot, cold, and rainy. It’s the end of the cold season right now (hot season starts in March/April), and the average temperature is about 95 degrees Fahrenheit. In the hot season, temperatures can reach up to 116 degrees Fahrenheit, and the rainy season is, well, rainy. Not “rainy” like “Oh it’s pouring for a few days”—actual monsoons, especially in Mon State. There are lots of geckos (which are the best because they eat spiders and mosquitos), snakes (though I haven’t actually seen one in the wild), dogs, cats, chickens, cows, and other various creatures. The mosquitos can be pretty relentless, but I’ve learned to accept it and wear a lot of bug spray when I go out.

(click on the pictures to see the captions)

#pst #pre-service training #bago

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boristhemonster · 5 years

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Bad-ass? Well...that’s open to interpretation...

Life as an engineer whose work involves blowing shit up on a regular basis is quite apt for a girl like me; an intermittently virtuous science nerd who gets a little too excited when she sees a detonator and finds no sound more comforting than a perfectly timed open-cut blast. Historically I’ve been strung like an abnormally high pitched violin and handled stressful moments with the finesse of a cranky two-year-old, but now I seem shrug and giggle and get entranced into a ‘solutions’ mode over two glasses of wine. That which began as a wrathful little tyke permanently on edge is now able to hold a conversation without dropping the F-word or trying to convey that “I didn’t choose the thug life”.

Think that sums me up the best. I think age has helped me relax a bit.

Raised on a robust diet of political incorrectness, Monty Python and an impressive array of choice words, I like to think I’ve achieved a level of reasonable wit and badass-ness. Not badass by international standards, of course; I’m yet to reach any sort of Vladimir Putin level, predominantly due to a lack of nuclear weapons or assassins at my disposal, nor enemies requiring poisoning. I don’t dislike my ex-boyfriends that much...

But I did have a cat called ‘Vodka’ in high school, and I work with commercial explosives for a living. I have a coffee mug that assures me every morning that I’m a total badass, endorsed further by the adjacent mug that reminds me that coffee keeps me going until it’s ‘wine time’. There’s also an ‘Angry Birds’ one ostentatiously perched on my desk at work. I received second-class honours in my engineering degree because I substituted ‘study-and-behave time’ for ‘wine-and-oysters-with-my-bestie time’ a little too often to have first-class bestowed upon me. Then there is this weird thing I have for painting pictures of dead trees while practising Russian with my fridge (if it ever talks back I’ll have to reassess some life choices).

My favourite ‘group’ of ‘things’ is a ‘murder’ of ‘crows’. I love ACDC and Korn, and I can pretty much recite Eminem’s The Real Slim Shady at the drop of a Snoop beanie (now that’s gangsta). I shot a can about fifteen metres away with a rifle once and I look like a Columbian drug runner on my driver’s licence. While writing this, I slaughtered three tiny fruit flies and made a batch of banana and blueberry muffins when the recipe explicitly said ‘banana and pecan’. I even found a picture of my Mum smoking while wearing a grey hoodie and made a ‘Thug Life’ meme out of it.

Aged seven, I brought home my one and only ever gold star, impressing and confusing the hell out of my parents. They were an unsettling blend of proud and disturbed upon discovering it was because I didn’t hit anyone at school that day (in my defence, those other kids always coloured outside the lines, so in my opinion they got what was coming to them). The jubilation was short-lived. The next day I copped a ruler over the knuckles for writing three of my favourite choice words in my Year 2 exercise book.

Somehow my Year 3 teacher managed to suppress the anger in this ireful little cherub and I went on to be very uncool in high school. I’m almost proud of how uncool I became because I think it set a benchmark for all nerdy kids out there. All the math, chemistry, reading and Star Trek binges afforded little time for things like friends, boys and personal aesthetics. My parents surely were pleasantly surprised. Dad realised he wouldn’t need to buy a gun or hire bikies while I navigated puberty. Mum let me have a lock on my door. I stayed in my room mostly to hide from the world, so there was little to spark any fear that I’d climb out the window or do anything other than my homework, read the entire Lord of the Rings Trilogy, or gaze into the mirror wishing I was pretty.

I distinctly remember being called a ‘slut’ when I didn’t kick a ball back to a school boy on the oval one time and as I stood there on a grass mound like a stunned mullet, my first thought was, how ironic. It was well-known and, to look at me, entirely conceivable, that I hadn’t even kissed a boy. That didn’t change until I was nearly nineteen and at University. It started off with my left leg being dry-humped at a party.

Seven years, a graduation, four failed relationships, many wines and a bunch of inadvertent ‘social suicide’ attempts later, I was literally smashing it out as a drill and blast engineer in Queensland.

My career blessed me with four years in one particular tiny mining town in Queensland cattle country, around a hundred kilometres inland from Bundaberg, and it taught me a few things. Firstly, one does not go to the ladies’ room. One takes either a ‘slash’ or a ‘horse-piss’. Second, worship your coffee baristas like they are gods because they are nowhere to be seen out in places like that town. Thirdly, orange liqueur won’t cure a cold, no matter how much vitamin C you believe it contains. On that note, that drunk stockman at the local pub who tells you that a pint of straight Bundaberg Rum with a squeeze of lemon, followed by ‘sweating it out’ overnight in a swag out in a paddock somewhere will cure your cold, is lying. Finally, try not to strip down to a bra and short-shorts and sing a drunken Happy Birthday to an out-of-towner Council road worker, or dance with the diesel mechanics on the pool table singing Hotel California and drinking straight Jack Daniels. Confining one’s beverage appreciation to the comfort and privacy of one’s own couch is paramount to maintaining a respectful image when one must work and live amongst the same, single group of small-townsfolk.

Gosh, did I learn the hard way. Now my life is based in a large coastal town north of Sydney, where there are those glorious things called ‘coffee shops’ and ‘anonymity’. And if my dear, well-wishing colleagues ever ask what I have planned for the weekend, I will fight my honest-to-Buddha badass-ness, which would ordinarily propel me to inform the enquirers that I will be savouring red wine, from the bottle, on my couch, in my pyjamas…which kind of need washing because they’ve acquired an odour reminiscent of stale piss and milk that is three weeks past expiry… and I will be ordering two Margherita pizzas on the Friday night so that I have Saturday’s breakfast covered, too.

Instead, I graciously impart that I will be busy with yoga, running on the beach, drinking my own body weight in green tea, and diligently working on that trial report that’s due in two weeks.

Next time we shall discuss how I didn’t learn the above lessons very well, the ‘bad drag’ dress-up party and how I lost my motor skills and lost one of my guns, the weekends bat-caving with the RAAF-ies and finishing off the remaining tequila while watching Team America and Animes, and my personal favourite: when I sat open-chested in a tee-pee in front of ‘nipple-readers’, dressed up in a space suit and a blue-green wig.

Werrrrd.

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hollyplays · 6 years

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The Roundup: June 2018

Look, I’m as shocked as you are. I had no idea that last month when I set up a recurring feature, I’d actually be able to stick to it. It turns out that once a month is way more feasible for me than once a week (like Bargain Bin or Album of the Week, god rest their souls). Maybe I’ll try for every two weeks with some different features.

It’s been a really hard few weeks. Not for me necessarily, but for the world at large, shit sucks. Being constantly angry and vigilant is exhausting, but not being angry feels irresponsible. I want to write about the things I love for you all to read, but it all feels so unimportant in the face of this goddamn administration.

So, to keep both of us balanced, with every entry on the Roundup this month I’ll include One (1) horrifying fact about the world today, and One (1) extremely good fact about the world today. Hope you enjoy.

Hausu: I thought I knew the basic premise of this movie (a realistic fantasy about the atomic bomb) and I was extremely, extremely wrong. Part of me wished someone had told me just how weird and silly and somber this movie was going to be, but I’m honestly glad I didn’t know. I won’t spoil too much of it for you, but suffice to say this is NOT a realistic fantasy in any way. Almost nothing about this movie is realistic. A man gets turned into bananas, for christ’s sake.

Mitch McConnell stole a Supreme Court seat, and it seems unlikely that the Democratic party will attempt to steal Kennedy’s back.

Otters hold hands while they sleep so they don’t drift apart.

Splatoon 2’s Octo Expansion: I loved Splatoon 2’s main story, so I was very much looking forward to this. The entire aesthetic of it is slick and charming as hell- I love the idea of exploring a rundown subway line and uncovering different weird sea creatures, but the actual missions were hit and miss for me. It was a toss-up each mission if you were going to get “inventive level design” or “difficulty for difficulty’s sake”. The 8 Ball levels were absolutely fantastic, and just the right level of challenging, but every single ‘ride the rails’ level was hell. It’s hard to be mad about 80+ levels for 20 bucks, plus a new character model, but I felt like the Splatoon team vastly overestimated the skill level of most of their players. I skipped the majority of the latter half of the expansion, and it feels super frustrating to not be able to play the game I bought.

There are currently state-sponsored concentration camps all throughout the southern U.S.

Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, a young socialist, just ousted the chair of the Democratic Caucus.

Incredibles 2: The Incredibles is my favorite Disney movie, bar none, so I had pretty high hopes for The Incredibles 2. I’m not sure it reached them, but that has more to do with me than the movie itself. I digress; this movie kicked ass. The animation was gorgeous and beautiful, and the philosophy behind it was a huge step up from the accidentally-objectivist plot of the first one. The focus on Elastigirl was much appreciated this round, and actually seeing Bob struggling with fatherhood was really enjoyable. This is an excellent follow-up to The Incredibles, and one of my favorite Pixar movies to date.

There are currently two living white rhinos, both in captivity.

Science has proven your cat genuinely loves you.

Black Bolt: I really, really loved Saladin Ahmed’s 12 issue Black Bolt run. Christian Ward’s art is as vibrant and beautiful here as it is in ODY-C, and that space-opera feeling serves the Inhumans so, so well. Black Bolt is a really interesting character, and I feel like Ahmed and Ward did him justice. I was a little bummed when the art style switched over during issue 7 and Frazier Irving took over- not because I missed Ward, but because the almost impressionistic style of Irving was really beautiful and fit the story’s shift in setting, but didn’t stick around for the rest of the run. I also thought the ending was a little rushed- I enjoyed it still, but I would have liked a few more issues to pad out Black Bolt and Blinky’s story. I know this is comic books, so it probably continues in some other series, but still.

If Trump gets the second supreme court seat, he can make gay marriage illegal again.

Cows are known to have best friends.

Jabberwocky: I really wanted to like this movie. I love almost every Monty Python production (lookin at you, Meaning of Life), and the concept seemed like a knockout. Unfortunately, the end result is just…boring. There’s very few jokes, and even fewer worth laughing at. I think I only genuinely laughed once, during a scene with a catapult and a murderous religious fanatic. I had really high hopes for Jabberwocky, and it’s hard to imagine more ways it could have been disappointing.

They’re going to keep making Jurassic World movies.

There’s a video of Kermit The Frog singing Talking Heads’ Same As It Ever Was

The Vision: I’ve read Tom King and Gabriel Hernandez’ The Vision three times now, and I never love it less. It’s genuinely imepeccable. It’s one of the only superhero comics I’ve read that feels like literature. It’s about synthezoids and Ultron and Victor Mancha and a bright green dog and it feels like fucking Shakespeare. I love it so, so much, and I keep coming back to it. Also Viv Vision is the greatest character in anything ever and I love her so much.

We’ll never get to see Edgar Wright’s Ant-Man.

By all reviews, Ant Man & The Wasp is a much better movie than Ant Man.

Mamma Mia: This is a cheerful fuckin movie. This is the kind of movie we need right now. Just great acting, silly writing, and ABBA. I’ve been listening to Mamma Mia and Super Trouper on repeat since I saw it. There’s some genuine tearjerker stuff here, naturally, but by and large this movie is fucking saccharine. Can’t recommend it enough.

Children as young as three are being separated at the border and forced to represent themselves at deportation hearings.

Mamma Mia 2 exists, and will be in theaters shortly.

Dr. Strangelove: This is another movie I wanted to like more than I did, but I certainly liked it more than Jabberwocky. I didn’t really appreciate this movie until after I saw it because I didn’t even realize Peter Sellers is 3 different characters! I genuinely had no idea. Dr. Strangelove is interesting mostly because of how it well it balances its cynicism with its laugh-out-loud moments. There are bits in this movie I’m still quoting, and that’s as good an endorsement as any.

Its entirely possible that Roe v. Wade will be overturned.

Modders are hard at work to make Zelda fully playable in Breath of the Wild.

#holly plays #holly talks #the roundup #june 2018

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