potassiumboron

~I'm drinking coffee on a trampoline~
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For the three centuries he had been alive, most of that time had been spent with the same person, doing the same things day in, day out and taking it for granted. Being the Familiar to one of the more renowned witches in the magic community brought with it a small sense of delusion. While Ambrosio wasn't so naive to believe that he and his witch, Luana, would be completely risk-free, having spent large periods of their time together preparing for eventual attacks on their safety, he also didn't believe that it would happen, and if it did, he really didn't think it would end with them being captured.

Or worse, killed.

And yet, that was the reality of the situation. His simple but cosy life with Luana came to a swift end when their cabin was stormed and the two dragged off to the nearby Asumor Kingdom; something the demon hadn't anticipated. Whilst he knew there was always a risk, the fact that Dominique was the ruler who managed to successfully oversee his and Luana's capture made everything worse. Having heard that the teenager was King was an occasion for mockery for Ambrosio. He didn't see the young man as a threat, casting him as too inexperience and too naive to run a kingdom, let alone successfully overseeing the capture of a witch as powerful as Luana.

Dealing with the consequences of his naivety wasn't easy for someone as prideful as Ambrosio to accept. He easily blamed herself for her death, and it didn't help when he had constant images playing in his head of her execution, having been cruelly forced to watch the one person he considered family burn to death in front of him. Death would have been a blessing, but it wasn't the plan for him. Instead, he was taken into the castle and forced into subservience, eventually given a title as the King's personal servant, though it was by no means a position offered out of kindness. Ambrosio was well aware that he had been granted the role just to emphasise the King's power, and to remind him just how far he had fallen; that he was no longer a powerful Familiar, but just some servant being punished for his inhumanity.

It wasn't fair, but nothing the humans believed was fair. He and Luana hadn't hurt anyone; they weren't invested in the world of dark magic. They had no malevolent intent, yet they were equally punished simply because they were magic. It made the fact Luana had cursed the young King all the more sweet, because he deserved everything that was coming to him. Until the inevitable, Ambrosio had to deal with life as one of the servants, forced to tend to Dominique and ultimately deal with the young King's treatment of him without too much of a backlash. The one thing that kept him going was the idea of watching the curse unfold, and it was that alone that prevented him from burning the place down - death was far too good for Dominique, after all.

That day started off like all others, with Ambrosio's day starting early and ending late, and filled with often relentless work that blistered his feet and hands painfully. That was nothing compared to the mental torture he faced at working for a man like Dominique and helping him perform even the most simplest of tasks, which was easily a living nightmare. Unfortunately, it was an avoidable one, and he had no chance to argue when he was awoken early in order to bring the King his usual breakfast, setting it down on his balcony and standing at the side of the bed whilst the young man stirred awake. It was always tempting to kill the man as he slept, a thought that hit every single morning, but one he always managed to fight back. Somehow.

"...Your breakfast's ready. I cut it all up for you, but I'm not sure I did a good job, so try not to choke. That would be dreadful," he murmured slowly, brushing his pink hair as all three of his eyes narrowed a little at his own sarcasm, fighting the urge to grin and show his pointed teeth. "I made it myself, I'm sure it'll be to your liking."
 
Dominique wasn't one to be told what to do, and being forced awake was under that category in his mind. It was childish but he wanted to wake up when he wanted to, though instead of lashing out at Abrosio, it was the one thing he didn't get angry about doing. Instead, he simply waved the other away from his bed as he reluctantly slipped out, pausing as he blinked away his weariness. After a moment, he got to his feet and patiently waited to be given his robe, the idea of walking out onto the balcony with the chance of being seen in his simple boxers would be heartbreaking and he couldn't handle that stress so early in the morning.

Once handed the warm robe, he stepped into the somewhat chilly air and cracked a small smile at the display. He would be lying if he said he didn't find the way the food looked impressive but like hell would he go out of his way to compliment a lowly servant. Instead, he adjusted himself in the seat, his brief smile dropping and was replaced by a hard stare at the demon, a grimace only growing when he realized he had to actually tell the other what to do.

"Taste it. I don't want you putting some poison in their or whathaveyou. You aren't special, you know. You're just like every other servant I have, out to kill me or overthrown me. Just take a bite and try not to choke," he sneered in response, resting his head in his hand as he watched the other. "You have a busy day. Run my bath for me when I'm done and don't forget to use those rose petals, they're worth more than your entire existence. Whilst I'm in my bath I expect you to make my bed and take the dishes away. I hope I can trust you to not fuck this up after, how long as it been? Three years? Oh, whatever. I'm just getting tired of you messing up the simplest of tasks when I've given you so many opportunities to get better," he sighed, his tone of clear and genuine disappointment.
 
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Eyeing the food quietly, the idea of poisoning Dominique was one that had also drifted through his head over the years. It was a quick and easy way to kill him, and one that he could probably sit back and enjoy as the other died in agony in front of him. Evidently, he hadn't taken the steps to do that, deciding against it for many reasons, one of those reasons being that Dominique had a habit of making him taste his food first. Whilst he had once wished for death, shortly after Luana's execution, he wanted nothing more than to survive and watch everything go to shit for Dominique. That was the only motivation he had in his life, so as hard as it was not hurting the King, he managed to have the inner strength to control himself enough not to physically hurt him.

"If I wanted to poison you, you'd have died three years ago. I think the fact I haven't even attempted to slice your throat while you sleep should help you realise that I have no intention doing it at all. It'd be resigning myself to death and I don't want that," he mumbled back in reply, reaching to take a small bite of the food with a less than subtle glare at the King, emphatically proving that the food was harmless and perfectly edible without any severe consequences. Even though he was able to maintain a degree of self-control didn't mean he could hide his facial expressions; his eyes did have a habit of glowing brightly whenever he was angry. They also did that when he was happy, but he hadn't had many occasions in his life as of late where that emotion dominated.

He did, however, have a few friends in the castle that he could at least talk to. He was horrified at first to learn that he wasn't the only creature forced into servitude detesting the fact that they had been working their fingers to the bone against his knowledge until he became like them. In the end, though, he was almost thankful they were there; it gave him people he could talk to, who understood his plight perfectly. The only issue was that he had grown fiercely protective of them all, which made the control of his anger more difficult than it needed to be.

"...It's perfectly okay to eat. If you don't eat, you'll starve, and that'd be such a dreadful shame to us all," he sarcastically drawled again, pushing the seat in and standing opposite the table to observe him as he ate, just in case he did began to choke and needed assistance. It hadn't happened yet, but he could live in hope. He would eventually save him, of course, but seeing Dominique distressed and reliant on him for assistance would be perfect.

"I know how to run a bath. You've made me do it for years, I think I'm smart enough to have learnt how to do it how you like it by now, sire. Hot water, rose petals, scented oils-- it's hardly tasking."
 
“Can never be too certain,” he grumbled in response as he watched closely. Once it seemed to be alright, he decided to carefully cut into the food with a soft hum at the taste. Once again, if he was one to compliment he would praise Abrosio for just how well he did at making the meal. Instead, he offered a quick nod before taking a sip of his tea and looking out over the balcony, enjoying the gardens below, expressionless.

“I never know with you monsters. For all I know you can suddenly just forget everything or whatever. I’d prefer to keep reminding you so you don’t mess it up. You know more than anyone that I enjoy correcting you, but it becomes tiring when I have to do it all the time,” he drawled, a rare grin growing at the thought before he took a bite of his toast. “Besides, I enjoy seeing you get frustrated at your own stupidity, Ambrosio,” he reminded before taking another sip of his tea.

“Now, you stopped me before I could finish. I need you to go into town later to collect some things for this evening’s execution. I’m testing out my guillotine this evening and I need to make sure it’s nice and sharp,” he explained, his tone almost a bit gleeful as he shifted his eyes to the courtyard adjacent of the garden, that of which still held the fire pit that Luana was burned. It was nice to see Ambrosio have to look at it every morning and see him upset, even after years of dealing with it. In the last five generations of his family, not a single King held as many executions during their rule as Dominique and that was only after a few years, not decades like his family before him. “Then I want a nice roast for dinner.”
 
Even without following the man's gaze and realising just where he was glancing, Ambrosio felt his throat tighten and his eyes grow a little glassy. He knew just where the King was looking and he obviously had no desire to follow suit and glance over there himself, even if he had to face it every day of the last few years. It inevitably brought back the image of Luana dying, and when he had those images playing in his head anyway, he really didn't need them strengthened by the physical reminder of where she had died. Avoiding looking at it was best, even if he could grew emotional just thinking about it.

"...Ready to execute some other harmless 'monsters', what a wonderful use of your time," he responded beneath his breath, his hands clenched into tight fists. For all he knew, one of the friends he had made in the castle might be the King's next victim. He didn't want any of his fellow monsters to be killed, but especially not someone he had grown to like and care for. If he communicated his worries, he had no doubt that Dominique would find one of the servants to kill, purely to spite Ambrosio and cause him even more hurt, so, however hard it was forcing that concern aside, he did so quickly, just as quickly as he regained his composure.

That wasn't to say he stood with no expression on his face. In fact, he offered up a wide smile as he smoothed the hair down around his horns, humming under his breath to himself.

"A roast, hm? How weird. I'd love a roast too. Obviously you know what I'd love to roast. I'm sure you're not a stupid, even though you're just a teenager," he cooed, his nose crinkling the instant his smirk grew wider. Dropping thinly-veiled threats was something he often did, regardless how much he got punished for it. It was the one thing he could do to entertain himself, and it wasn't usually punished with anything too severe. A beating here and there was nothing compared to being executed, after all. "I'm at least 300 years old, I thought you had to respect your elders? Didn't your parents teach you that? I suppose royalty are exempt from the general rules of our society, hm?"
 
"You're 300 years old yet here you are, serving me breakfast. I may only be a teenager yet I raided your home and ruined you without a blink of my eyes," he reminded slowly, his tone calm as he took another sip of tea. Turning to face the demon again, he simply smiled as he did. He didn't need to be sudden with the other's punishment - he could easily deal with that later - but he wanted to enjoy his breakfast. If that meant dealing with the other relaying his feelings for a time, it was worth it.

"Yes, a roast. I get tired decapitating your 'friends'. I get quite a workout from that, so I always have a hearty appetite. A King deserves a proper meal and it seems that's exactly what I am, whilst you're a lowly servant who has to clean my feet upon request. Don't get a big head just because I haven't used your head as a knife rack, Ambrosio," he reminded before taking another bite of food. If there was one thing that could annoy others, especially the rare guest, was just how slow he ate. He liked to really savor the flavors, at least that's what he would say.

"After you run my bath, I want you to make your way to the dungeon," he decided after a moment of thought and the smacking of his lips in contemplation. "I want you to go to the dungeon, you know better than anyone else that your words of disobedience won't go unpunished, yes? I'll go light on you for the correct breakfast today. It seems you haven't made utter garbage for breakfast for once," he insisted with a pursed smile.
 
"A King shouldn't needlessly execute innocent people either, just saying. I can toddle off down to the dungeon and get my ass beat, I'm fine with that. It's worth it just to whine at you and ruin your breakfast," he admitted, folding his arms across his chest as he took in the scenery. Even though he genuinely hated life in the castle, as expected, there were times when he found himself enjoying little things. He liked the scenery and the gardens around the castle and he surprisingly enjoyed picking outfits out for Dominique from his closet. All his life, Ambrosio hadn't really had the opportunity to wear anything other than simple clothing, and as a servant, his apparel really wasn't great, so he had a genuine curiosity over every article of clothing whenever he ventured into the closet to pick something out for the King. In fact, he planned on one day stealing every item for himself when the time was right but, as always, he knew he had to be patient and bide his time.

"My friends do nothing wrong. I backchat and I insult you and you don't kill me. Their only crime, according to you, is that they're alive in the first place. It's... cowardly to execute people who don't threaten you; it's savagery," he continued slowly, his eyes drifting back to focus on the King, forcing back the urge to scowl in disgust at him. He hated everything he represented, after all, and that hate clouded any other judgement. Most people would immediately notice just how handsome Dominique was, or how well his posture was. Ambrosio, however, refused to acknowledge that, simply because his hatred and anger clouded that.

"...Do what you want with me, I'm sure you get off on punishing me, or you wouldn't do it so often," the demon taunted, his eyes glowing a little in amusement. "I am cute, hm? Even humans say I am sometimes, I wouldn't be shocked if you had a little thing for me, sire. You're only human, after all~"
 
“Don’t flatter yourself, you’re hardly my type,” he drawled, his eyes rolling sarcastically as he took a sip of his tea. “As for you, I’m sure you would like nothing more than to grab my neck and strangle me before pushing me off this balcony, I’m sure that would ‘get you off’.”

Once down with the food, Dominique got to his feet carefully and dust any crumbs from his lap. Staring at the demon, he took no time to grab his neck tight and forcefully pull him to the ledge,?-“” the while keeping his expression flat while forcing back the urge to smile. For someone who seemed as pristine and fragile as he did, everyone knew he wasn’t one to fuck with due to his strength.

“I keep you around not because you’re ‘cute’, I keep you around because I want people to know I have a demon as a lowly servant. Plus there’s nothing better than knowing you’re still alive while I watched your beloved friend burn alive. Now start the bath,” he ordered, letting go of Ambrosio’s neck with a sigh before flexing his hand.
 
Just allowing himself to be grabbed and threatened physically was degrading enough. Ambrosio could easily get himself out of the position without even struggling, but if he so much as attempted it, he knew that his punishment would only be more severe. Dominique clearly liked being able to overpower and dominate him, so fighting back against him would only cause anger... and that was best avoided. It was difficult to willingly allow himself to be forced into that sort of weak position, especially when knowing he could overpower the human with his hands tied behind his back, but it was probably for the best to allow Dominique to get his own way.

It was only a matter of time before he could be the one hiding back smirks at his misfortune.

"...You have guests arriving at lunchtime for a meeting, I assume about trade," he mumbled, rubbing his throat with a faint grimace. It wasn't easy just drifting back into the typical servant role, but he had had three years to learn how to do it. "And you'll need to organise meetings to plan out your birthday. You told me to remind you, so here's your reminder. I do know how to do this job. I can't be that dreadful at it - everything's organised and running smoothly, isn't it?"
 
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“I suppose,” he replied quietly, immediately frowning at both things. For starters, he detested having to speak to guests with only two or three people not provoking some sort of anger inside him. He liked to be alone... but he knew a King had to do more than just sit inside and brood. Secondly, he had mixed feelings about growing up. On the plus side, it meant people would take him more seriously instead of his opposers calling him a simple kid. On the down side, it also meant another year closer to death and the inevitable requirement of a successor. It was a hot topic among many servants and citizens, how he hadn’t found a wife already, and his excuses of grieving over his father were all out.

“I’ll think about that later,” he decided with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Right now I just want to enjoy a hot bath and a cup of wine, perhaps? I trust you in your pairing,” he admitted as he walked to the bath and sat at the small chair placed at the side to watch the bath be filled. While Dominique could be ruthless, one of the few times he treated the demon Well was during a wine tasting he insisted the other do. He had a very distinct taste for certain wines and he spent an evening having the other recognize that with a surprising lack of cruel words. He cared deeply about things that mattered to him enough to show kindness to his servants, after all.
 
If there was one thing that Ambrosio knew well, other than potions, it was wine. He had been a fan of it long before he came to work under Dominique and 'educated' in the art of wine-tasting. He had played along, pretended that he was completely ignorant just to give Dominique the satisfaction of teaching him, even if he felt he knew more than he was given credit for. He hadn't had a fancy life with Luana, living simply in the middle of the forest, but wine was always present in their household, often giving it as gifts from others in the community.

It was one area that Ambrosio was certain he would impress the King or, at the very least, not massively disappoint him. It was also one part of his job that he liked. He could spend all day looking at the large wine collection and imagining how nice it would be to have a large glass whilst sunbathing out in the garden-- and he was determined to realise that dream one day, when everything in the kingdom went to shit and creatures like Ambrosio finally stood up for themselves. That would take time, but it was just another thing to cling onto.

"...I thought this would be nice," he murmured once arriving back with the wine and a clean glass, placing them down before retreating to start the bath, grimacing to himself at how lavish everything was. He loved baths, after all, and knowing Dominique had the luxury of taking one in a tub like this was devastating to him. The King didn't deserve it, in his mind, but there was little he could do about that right now. "You can undress and get in yourself, I assume?"
 
“Of course,” he replied as he poured himself the glass of wine, his legs crossed neatly. He held back his urge to scoff at the implication that he was some child, though kept his annoyance to himself as he sipped the wine. As always, Ambrosio picked correctly and he offered a nod of appreciation. Easing back in his chair, hecwatched the demon silently with a somewhat unsubtle lock on the other as he worked. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t find the demon cute, if not handsome, so checking him out hardly seemed like a crime. He wouldn’t admit it, of course, and just staring at the other too long caused his cheeks to grow a light pink.

“Good choice,” he eventually murmured, taking in another sip. “Delicious, in fact. Thank you,” he added as he watched the water rise. He cracked his back lightly in preparation to soak, groaning softly. “I might need another bottle, what with the meeting today. Those older men can be so boring, I hate it,” he admitted. While it was very rare, Ambrosio was the only person he had to vent his feelings to.
 
Small signs of gratitude weren't so rare that it shocked him. The first 'thank you' from Dominique had been shocking, and he assumed it was a slip of the tongue that wouldn't happen again. It was by no means a common occurrence, but he wasn't too surprised whenever it did happen, so, while he noted the gratitude, he was able to shrug it off without thinking too much into it. He didn't really assume that Dominique was grateful; he just assumed that it was some faux politeness he had been taught to keep servants from revolting against him. A little thank you to them for their work here and there would, in Ambrosio's mind, settle any annoyances, so like hell did he think the gratitude was heartfelt.

It just wasn't worth the trouble of calling him out on it.

"Not all old people are boring. I'm frightfully old and I'm a total darling," the demon replied as he dropped the rose petals into the water, smiling absently to himself. Roses were always his favourite flower, and he saw the appeal in bathing with them floating around him. He just knew he didn't have the chance to do that, yet.

"I also don't think getting tipsy is the right thing to do. You do that, and they'll only stick around out of concern. Stay sober, get it over with and send them on their way. Not that difficult," he sighed, glancing back at the King with the smile vanishing. He did have his moments of smirking at him, mostly when he was in the mood to tease and prod him, but this was hardly one of them. "...The bath's ready. I suppose you want me to scuttle off to get myself beat up by a few guards, which is just how I wanted to start my morning, this really is perfect for me."
 
“If you will it, it’ll happen,” he replied simply as he stripped out of his robe and underwear, happily sighing once in the water, that of which was the perfect temperature. Dominique could be an amazing servant when he wanted to be, he noted. Running a hand through his hair, he leaned against the edge of the claw foot bath and shrugged before taking another sip of wine.

“Would you rather stay in my disgusting presence and listen to my idiotic ramblings? If I know you at all, I assume you’d pick the beating over spending time with me in a heartbeat,” he drawled with a roll of his eyes before letting a small smile grow on his lips. “If you want to get beaten up, be my guest - as long as you change the sheets first.”
 
"You don't know me, let's get that straight. You've known me for three years; three measly years out of my whole 300-year existence. I don't think you know me at all. I'd rather stick around with you and silently mock every word you say. You come out with some ridiculous things that I like to laugh at later on in private. Why would I pass up the opportunity to listen to you sound like a fool? That's golden to me," he responded, feeling confident enough to speak out now the man was in the bath. He couldn't exactly throttle him again without having to climb out of the tub, carefully to avoid slipping, which would give ample time for the demon to either brace himself, or move back to safety.

"...You really don't know me. I don't like the assumption that you do, because I'll never let you know me. But I know you pretty well. You don't have any hidden depths, you're... vanilla; boring, you know? That's not a bad thing. I find all humans to be drab and dreadfully dull, so you're at least consistent with the rest of your species. Embrace your dullness, you're never going to reach my level, and you should accept that-- it's good advice for you, I'm being surprisingly kind for once. Appreciate it."
 
“Speaking Of dull, are you done yet? It gets tiring, hearing you moan about all of my flaws and whatnot. Say whatever you want and feel however you feel but you’re still my servant,” he reminded as he took another sip of wine. Turning to face away, he sank further into the tub with a soft sigh.

“You know, you could always kill yourself,” he offered with a hum. “If dealing with me is so utterly atrocious, you could always just kill yourself and be with your beloved witch. I’d be down a servant but I wouldn’t have to hear you whine and curse me. You would be missed, no one can make breakfast like you do.”
 
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"Don't you think I would if I could? Funnily enough, it's not that easy to kill me-- and a small part of me wants to stick around to watch you mess up your entire reign. You're naive if you think you'll never put a foot wrong. I'm happy to wait for the day everyone turns against you. It's what you deserve," he murmured, not entirely caring at that moment how serious his tone was. He could sometimes get away with his insults if he sounded jokey and playful; when he sounded as sincere as he did, he knew punishment was more or less guaranteed, but sometimes it was worth it just to get under the King's skin and say what he felt he needed to.

"You do realise that I could kill you right now? You underestimate the various ways I could make you suffer without having to break a swear-- I'm a demon, it's sort of in my DNA to punish people. I haven't because that would just ruin the fun I'm going to have when this all goes wrong for you. You'll probably beg me to help you when that happens, you know. I want to be around for that so I can laugh in your face."
 
“There is something very wrong with you, Ambrosio,” he commented after a moment as he watched the other, his brows furrowing as he took another sip of wine. “You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if you got off dreaming about my death, though I really don’t treat you as poorly as you think. I could make life for you much worse but I don’t because you’re an adequate servant. I don’t have to hurt you to make you angry, I could maybe make one of the other servants you seemed to have become close with and sent them to burn like I did with your precious witch,” he declared simply with a shrug before easing back again.

“Now relax. Maybe you should find a way to get rid of all that anger, it isn’t good to hold it in,” he drawled with a smirk. “That reminds me, how old can you actually live to? I mean, you don’t look a day over 100.”
 
"I don't know. A few more centuries, perhaps? Maybe I'm ageless. I wouldn't know, I didn't stick around Hell long enough to find out. What I do know is that I'll be around for centuries after you're nothing but worm food rotting in the ground. That's pretty satisfying to me. Maybe there's something weird about that but I don't personally think it's odd to want my enemy to die-- you've made it your mission in life to kill those you see as your enemies, right? That's just how I see you," he retorted calmly, taking a seat on the floor opposite the bathtub with a small smile. If he didn't do that to keep him calm, he would have lost his temper and grabbed Dominique by the throat, potentially even killed him. Hearing Luana be talked about with such disrespect hurt him, but he had picked up a few techniques to help him keep calm over the years, and they worked surprisingly well.

"I do love to imagine how I'd kill you if I had the chance, I find it amusing. I think I'd go down the decapitation route," he grinned, resting his chin in his hand as his tail slowly swayed beside him. "Stick your pretty head on a spike-- or maybe I'd put you inside a large glass case full of water with some colourful fish and watch you drown in front of me, that'd be beautiful; like art, really."
 
“That’s it? I was expecting you to be more creative,” he admitted, seemingly unaffected at the other’s dark claims. “You’re hilarious, really. You make all these big claims and you never actually follow through on them. At least I kill my enemies instead of fantasizing about it. You’re a coward, using the idea of me taking my time to die as an excuse because you’re too big of a weakling to actually kill me now. Now don’t use the excuse of morals to keep you from killing me because you clearly have immoral thoughts,” he commented before yawning heavily.

“Go ahead, babble on all you want about your anger, it won’t change anything. Not to mention, imagine how hilariously pathetic your attempt to rule my kingdom would be,” he laughed, his eyes rolling. “More wine, yeah?”
 
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