Antithesis

potassiumboron

potassiumboron

~I'm drinking coffee on a trampoline~
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  1. Male
  2. Female
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  4. Transgender
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Genres
Monsters, supernatural, fantasy, romance, criminality, slice-of-life (modern or set in past, usually with some twists)
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Was there anything quite as satisfying as tormenting your own servants?

Not for Sebastian Arlington-Yates, anyway. His whole life often revolved around the torment of others to bring joy into his own life. Specifically, the torment of those living, breathing human servants his family employed, and often even the humans in Storavia who tried to live their lives as quietly as they could.

At least, as quietly as you could living in a kingdom overrun by vampires. At any given moment, you could be snatched up and torn apart by the neck for something as simple as the vampire being 'peckish', and have no justice for the attack. Being a human in Storavia, therefore, really wasn't easy. It took guts to stick around, and it was why many humans often gave up their lives as a free being to turn to servitude.

Being a servant to the royal family at least often guaranteed your survival. You might be fed upon, you might be teased and sometimes punished brutally for even leaving a tiny mark uncleaned, but you were kept alive. That was often worth giving up family and friends in the village, where your survival really wasn't guaranteed.

Although, serving the royals wasn't easy-- especially not if you were specifically chosen to serve the eldest son, Sebastian.

He was rude, spoilt, entitled and -as most servants secretly said- an asshole. He was known to kill servants just for the hell of it, even if his parents punished him for losing them a member of staff. Any servant assigned to him often feared for their life more than if they'd stayed in the village, and that... really wasn't a comforting way to live your life.

And Amiel was probably the one servant who had reason to fear his life than any other.

Since his arrival as a servant, Sebastian had taken it upon himself to make the boy's life hell. He'd fed off him even at times where he really wasn't craving a lot of blood, he made it his objective to tease him rotten, and he'd often hit out at him just to see him bruise - a sight he genuinely found amusement in.

He hadn't killed Amiel simply because he enjoyed hurting him so much. The moment he grew bored, he'd probably toss him off the roof of the castle, as he had done to a fair few of his assigned servants now.

And now, on a particularly cold day where the snow outside was piling up more and more in the midst of the snowstorm, Sebastian was clearly in the mood to mess with the guy a bit more. Lounging on his ridiculously large bed, the vampire groaned to himself in boredom.

"Amiel! Get here, I require your presence~!" He called out, not shouting or screaming specifically because he knew Amiel was close - he knew his scent pretty damn well at this point. "And do hurry, would you? You have five seconds before I get awfully angry at you."
 
Amiel may have just the worst job in the world.

He didn't like it, and he didn't plan to give any indication that he did. For someone with severe anxiety, it wasn't a prime place to be, being the servant assigned to Sebastian. Actually, it may have been the most awful place to be, but somewhere along the line, he'd been getting less terrified and more annoyed. A sort of 'yea, this might as well happen today, you know?' sort of feeling, a 'should've expected this' outlook. Because that was how it was. It was predictable.

They may like to think they were 'wild', and maybe they were in a way, but it was predictable in another, because they did the same things over and over again. He knew what to expect, most of the time. That didn't provide much comfort at all, of course, but it didn't change the fact that the 'fear of the unknown' wasn't really a thing. He knew what was coming, and he still hated every single second of it.

But he had actually maybe made it worse.

Just a little.

See, humans were the bottom of the food chain, for the most part. However, there was one type of creature that was below them, and that was treated with extreme malice. That was werewolves. Now, up until this point, Amiel hadn't had an issue with them. No interaction at all, plus the fact he was a human. That was perfect for him. But......recently he fucked up. He fucked up really badly.

He got bitten.

Which led him to his current predicament. He was wearing his usual clothes, but his sleeves were rolled down for once, hiding the bandages on his arm, which hid the bite mark. Why? Because he still had work, and he was absolutely fucked and more panicked than usual. Getting called in didn't do anything to help that.

The five-second thing motivated him to move a bit quicker, but he still hesitated a moment. He pushed open the door, walking in and doing a short, stiff bow of sorts. No talking, he just wasn't going to talk. He usually didn't anyway, so that couldn't be TOO unusual. Did he seem more awkward than usual? Maybe. Fuck.

Amiel Jacobi, a human of 21 years of age, was absolutely going to die at some point today.
 
He might not be able to put his finger on it, but Sebastian noticed the change in him almost immediately.

He'd had Amiel as his servant for a while now, and given how much time they spent together, Sebastian had picked up on the other's behaviourism and the way he conducted himself. In fact, he considered himself an expert on Amiel. The two might not have amicable conversations, but he often inquired the servant about his personal life, if only to tease him relentlessly about it.

That, and the general observations and analysis, made Sebastian think he knew him pretty well.

Which was why he noticed the other's hesitant body posture and the fact he had so many thoughts running through his head. Thankfully, he didn't take notice of the long sleeves - if he paid them attention, he'd probably have forced the other to roll them up to look more presentable. As it was, Amiel's hesitation was enough to draw his attention away from anything else.

Standing up abruptly from his bed, the vampire trailed off with little regard about personal space - he wasted no time in standing inches away from the other and looking down at him intriguingly, as if trying to work out what was running through his head.

"...You look tired," he announced suddenly, his gold eyes narrowing a little. "You ought to know better than stay up late when you have me to serve. I don't want a tired servant, Amiel. What is going on with you, hm? I'd like to know why my head servant has bags under his eyes and is acting so... hesitant. As your prince, I demand an explanation."
 
'You know better than stay up late when you have me to serve, I don't want a tired servant, blah blah blah' got old. It really did. The prince card? Stale. Amiel couldn't say anything about it, though. He wasn't really keen on getting murdered, not today. Not unless he really had to. So, he kept his mouth shut and kept his face neutral.

"I simply didn't sleep well, sir." He said, standing up straight and looking Sebastian straight in the eyes. He managed to keep his voice flat, thank god, and keep a professional tone. He at least had that going for him, unlike everything else going on "What can I do for you?"

He doubted there was anything to be done. Actually, he was sure this was just to fuck with him, because what else could it be for? He had the worst luck, so why would this be any different? The fact that Sebastian NOTICED he was off wasn't even good, nor was it flattering. It was just making the situation worse.

He reminded himself to research werewolves later, when he had free time.
 
"Didn't sleep well? You're lucky you have a bed here and a room, or do I have to remind you of your miserable existence before your job here? You really ought to appreciate your life here. Not sleeping well? Psh, I don't believe that, not at all," admitted Sebastian as he flopped back onto his bed, deciding that the other didn't have some grand, exciting thing going on that would be worth knowing about, or even teasing him about.

How wrong he was.

"Oh, I have no reason to explain myself to you, do I? I don't need to explain anything to you. I simply wanted to know where my head servant is, that's all. Now you're here, I'd like you to perhaps put together my outfit for my mother's birthday tomorrow. I want to wear that silver and white suit Father bought for me, so get that out and set it neatly. I know your clumsy human hands have a habit of messing things up. I haven't forgiven you for staining my carpet with that glass of wine-- you really should have been killed for that."

Sebastian didn't take long to grin in amusement at the memory. Granted, he hadn't killed Amiel-- but he'd come pretty close to doing so. It had taken months for the human to heal up, and Seb had drunk in every single second of the human's pain and misery.

"You'll be attending tomorrow, of course. Someone has to serve the guests, and as clumsy as you are, you're also most reliable, I suppose. Besides, I want someone there to ridicule all night, and you're very obviously perfect for that."
 
Amiel, admittedly, had zoned out during part of that little speech, figuring it was something along the usual lines. Something about how he should be dead, most likely something violent, it was the same thing as usual. Upon hearing something about setting out the specific outfit, he began to do just that, giving no indication that he wasn't ACTUALLY listening, because he was. Kind of.

Which is why he felt a little off about the whole party thing, but wasn't really thinking too hard about it. After all, things like this happened a lot, he had no reason to feel any worse about it than he usually did. It was just a party, and it was just another long length of time that he'd have to deal with the constant berating from the royal family. That was all, right? It had nothing to do with his new issue.

Until he realized it did.

Tomorrow was the full moon, if he remembered correctly. That meant- he'd need to fact check this -he would have.....issues. More issues than before. In his understanding, the full moon was the only point in time that a werewolf would have no control over shifting into, well, a wolf. At other points- again, in his understanding -it was entirely possible to do such still, but it was controlled, or more controlled than that one night.

Of course the party had to be tomorrow.

He'd need to find a way around it.

Which meant he probably would need to contact his siblings. They were, after all, the reason he was in this predicament.. That was because they were in nearly the same predicament. Out of the four remaining not as servants, Oswin and Danny were the only ones not bit. The younger set, the twins of 13 years, had been dealing with the issue since yesterday, and they were the ones that had dragged Amiel into that mess. This meant that Oswin was more likely to agree to take his place at the party, most likely with the excuse of him being sick. She was fairly good with lying, unlike Danny.

He was going to worry over it anyway, though. For now, he simply set out the clothes as carefully as he could, not daring to say another word.
 
While Amiel was hardly a chatterbox (and for good reason - Sebastian would probably kill him if he chattered like that), it was pretty strange not to at least hear an embittered 'yes, sir' or even some mumbles under his own breath that even Sebastian's heightened sense of hearing couldn't really understand.

To have nothing but silence back from him was admittedly making the vampire far more curious than he cared to be. He didn't really like getting involved in any human's life, especially not when that human was a servant, but if this behaviour was going to impede Amiel's ability to be a good servant, then yes, Sebastian was fucking interested in him.

Watching him for a further few seconds, the prince eventually laughed loudly, rolling his own eyes at the ridiculousness of it all. What was he expecting to hear from him?

Something interesting?

Something entertaining?

His belief that Amiel was little more than another bog-standard, tedious little maggot also meant Sebastian didn't think he had much going on in his life of any interest. So, there was probably a boring reason behind this sudden tiredness and subsequent overthinking. Hell, Sebastian himself was clearly overthinking this. Amiel wasn't interesting or deep - he was just another servant; one of many boring wastes of life.

"Oh god, I must be bored if I'm considering you to have hidden depths. Honestly, I'm embarrassing myself even thinking you're hiding something from me. You're just slower than usual and I suppose that's because you humans are so very, very useless," he grinned, dosing out his usual insulting remarks. That, however, was probably better than him interrogating the other any further on why he was acting differently. "Do hurry up. You'd better not be this slow serving guests tomorrow. They'll give my parents a reason to end your miserable life."
 
God, ending his life would be a mercy at this point. He hated this, and the possibility of quitting just didn't exist in the first place. There was no way but death out of this, and that was just depressing to think about. He supposed he was grateful that no questions were asked, so he could stand being insulted due to that, but he really didn't like hearing about him getting killed as if it were a BAD thing. Did Sebastian actually think he wouldn't be okay with that? At least he wouldn't have to deal with his attitude. He often swung back and forth between 'oh god, I'm going to die' and 'thank god, I'm going to die'. He was fairly sure that it was just part of the job position.

Amiel finished up, turning back to Sebastian and not giving off any vocal indication to confirm that he had heard any of that, though it was obvious that he had been listening to the whole statement "Will that be all, sir?"

He sure hoped it was. He didn't think he could stand being in the room any longer. Nervousness over his issue and just general distaste for Sebastian were making his mental state decline at a rapid rate. He needed to leave, and then he needed to make sure he wasn't going to make it to that party. It wouldn't be hard; it wasn't exactly hidden knowledge that his immune system was weak. Though, he wasn't sure if that was true still now. It may not be, depending on how the whole 'werewolf' thing worked out.

They didn't need to know that, though.
 
"You're so boring today, Amiel. I know you aren't usually the type to backchat me, thank goodness, but you're not normally this mature. I like your immaturity, it gives me reasons to thump you or throttle you or... goodness, even bite you," he grinned, his eyes trailing down to the other's neck where reminders of his past feeding sessions could still be seen from the cars that had yet to heal.

For Sebastian, there was nothing quite as satisfying as seeing the bite marks branding one of his human servants - it was always a great source of amusement for him. Was it callous of him? Sure - but he was not just a vampire, but one with little to no respect for anyone bit himself. Callousness was expected from him.

"I suppose I have nothing else for you to do-- but seeing as you're so eager to get away, I demand you just stand there and keep me company. I get dreadfully lonely sometimes," he suddenly remarked, deciding one of the best punishments was just making Amiel abide his company when he clearly wanted to escape it. "I know I have my sisters and my cousins and I have quite a lot of friends, but they're all so annoying, don't you think? I want an answer this time, no more sullen silent treatment."
 
Couldn't he make up his mind? What did he want? Did he want Amiel to be quiet, or did he want him to speak? It wasn't HIS fault that he wasn't speaking, you know! God, and the fact he wanted a reason to HURT him? That made it worse. He was such a brat, and Amiel would love to throttle him, and that was saying something. Usually, he'd be against violence, but he could stand it in this one situation. The world would be a MUCH better place.

He just wanted to leave this room. He wanted to get out and go take care of something else, away from Sebastian, because right now it felt like he couldn't breath for multiple reasons. None of them were good reasons, and he'd even take vaulting out a window on his own compared to it. But, he had to be POLITE, and WELL-MANNERED, because while he didn't like this job, nor did he choose it himself, he had to work it.

"I have not spent quality time with them, sir, so I can't say." He said, keeping his tone flat. Hopefully, the vampire would get bored soon, and he'd be able to head out.
 
"You haven't spent quality time with them-- you live in the castle, you serve us constantly and, while I wish they weren't, my sisters are always buzzing about. I'm pretty sure you know them well enough. I just think that you're childishly avoiding talking to me. Why is that? Do you not like me, Amiel? I find that hard to believe. I'm incredibly lovable," the vampire drawled back in response, though his expression wasn't that amused smirk he mostly always wore.

He was cold and pretty pissed off at this point. He didn't really know what he wanted from Amiel, but the constantly professional responses were grinding his gears.

If Amiel opted to snap at him, he'd be annoyed and he'd punish him, but at least that would bring some entertainment.

How could he defend punishing the servant when Amiel was the epitome of professionalism? There was no way his parents were going to understand him lashing out at the guy just for doing his job and being respectful.

And that was fucking annoying.

"I'm hungry," he suddenly smiled, sitting back on the edge of his bed. He might not have the justification to hurt him as much as he wanted, but he didn't need to justify feeding from him - if he was hungry, he was going to feed. Simple. "Want to offer up that wrist of yours, or do I have to pin you down again? I hate doing that, it wastes too much of my energy."
 
So being professional annoyed him? That was great. He was going to be the most professional fucking servant in this building, even if it meant that he had to allow the other to feed from him. It'd happen anyway. He just hoped that he wouldn't be able to taste the difference, if there was one. That would end badly.

He'd act professional, and he'd get this done. Then, hopefully, he'd be told he could leave. He wasn't trying to get the prince pissed off, not really. He was just trying to make it so he wasn't wanted in the room any longer, so he could leave and actually feel comfortable once more. This was, possibly, the best way to do it. Unfortunately.

"Would you like the wrist or neck, sir?" All he had to do was offer more options and add 'sir' and he was the height of professionalism. It would be funny, if he wasn't trying to actively get Sebastian to send him away.
 
One more fucking 'yes sir' and Sebastian was ready to break the man's neck. He was sure he could just tell his parents it was an accident and get away with a light tap on the wrist.

He wasn't just the heir to the throne - he was their eldest and their only son. Nothing he did, no matter how severe r gruesome or violent, was ever properly punished. It was swept under the carpet, not brought up again and forgotten about.

He literally got away with murder, so one more servant added to the death count really wasn't that big of an issue. He would get away with it and have another servant assigned to him as his personal butler. No big deal.

Although, Amiel had been with him for a while now. As annoying as he often was, he knew Sebastian's schedule and his preferences down to a T. The effort it would take to train up another servant was astronomical as far as Seb was concerned, and that effort was the only reason Amiel was still breathing.

"Just fucking leave before I decapitate you," he growled, deciding that he wanted the other out of his sight-- which was clearly a good thing. One taste of the other's blood would have alerted him that something was different-- and it probably would have led to Amiel's swift and brutal death.
 
Thank God. Instead of leaving right away, he did a small bow first, not wanting to appear too eager. He was absolutely delighted though. He wasn't sure how much longer he could've kept that up for, and a feeding would've killed him, most likely.

He then walked out, not too fast, but not slow either. He made a b line for the kitchen, which he found to be, usually, the perfect place to hunker down for a bit. Since that was something he needed to do, he'd wait to go to his room.

This was going to be a hell of a two days.
 
Despite his privileged life and being able to obtain whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, Sebastian wasn't a happy person.

If there was ever an opportunity to complain, whine or bitch, he seized at it with both hands. He was someone who was full of negative energy, always seeking to moan at some injustice in his life, however trivial or menial. He really ought to be happy and realise just how lucky he was... but why be that way when you could moan some more and get attention for it?

And if there was one thing he liked more than torturing his servants, physically and/or mentally, it was attention.

That was why he wasted no time in storming from his bedroom to search down one of his sisters to complain to. While he often characterised them as 'babies', the youngest sister he had recently turned 19, so none of them were really as 'young' as he liked to make them out to be, which made them perfect candidates to receive his whines and complaints.

And boy, did he have a lot to get off his chest.
 
Amiel ran into the kitchen, only skidding to a stop when a large arm was in his way, making him halt in his path to avoid getting hit in the chest. The arm belonged to an equally large man, with a unruly beard and unkempt hair, dressed in a chefs outfit. This was Hank Fisher, the cook.

Now, vampires didn't seem to eat much other than blood- or drink, he supposed -but people still needed to eat solid food around the building, and Hank was the one to do it. He was the most intimidating servant, in Amiel's opinion, and he couldn't see that changing. The man towered over him, and looked like he could supplex him easily.

They were on good terms, though. All it had taken was a bit of talking, and then Amiel had realized he wasn't that bad of a person. Which then led to his frequent trips down to the kitchen, mostly to complain. Not that he trusted Hank enough to talk about the werewolf thing, though. That was absurd.

"What are y' doing here, Amiel?" Hank grunted, crossing his arms after successfully stopping the other servant, who had already begun to pace back and forth.

"I'm just stressed. I come here when I'm stressed, you know that. Hope I'm not bothering you." He replied, pursing his lips a little "This place is generally quiet, though."

"Y'aint bothering me at all, kid. Just don't bump into anythin'." The man said, going back to his work "You break it, you pay for it. Get it?"

"Got it."
 
"If he breaks something, you hardly have a leg to stand on criticising him. How many plates have you broken around here, Hank?"

This response came from another of the hundreds of servants that served the royal family, though one that wasn't specifically told to remain in one area of work. For example, Hazel wasn't solely a gardener, or solely a baker. She dipped her hands in all aspects of a servant's work and, a a result, was one of the more familiar faces around the castle - her unspecified role meant she communicated and conversed with a whole lot more people than the average servant did.

In fact, there weren't many people she didn't know.

Her favourite area of work, and one she had great expertise in, was baking and assisting Hank with cooking. Being in the kitchens was somewhere the vampires didn't tend to stroll into and that peace and quiet away from their arrogant glances and unsubtle hatred was something she enjoyed greatly. She'd pretty much forced herself to learn to cook just so she could spend hours of the day away from the royals, however long it had taken her.

Thus, while she partook in various roles, her role as the assistant chef was among her favourites, and it had allowed her to really get to know Hank-- and the amusing pair they aesthetically made wasn't lost on her. He was nothing short of huge, and she stood barely over five foot. Unlike her tough and solid counterpart, she was petite and small and she barely spoke above a whisper-- though that probably wasn't to be underestimated. She could bring a man double her size down to his knees in agony thanks to the self-defence training she secretly undertook.

When you looked so vulnerable, it was easy to be taken advantage of, so she made sure that she would learn to defend herself. Being a human was hard enough, let alone being a human of her size and frame.

It was also why she'd developed a rather feisty and cutting personality. She had to defend herself constantly, so her personality had toughened to be less... inviting as a result. Unless she knew and liked you, you were subject to some pretty torrid treatment.

Luckily, she rather liked Amiel, which meant he received a welcoming smile and not a scowl.

"How come you're stressed, then?" She questioned, pushing her auburn hair away from her face tiredly, her brown eyes locking onto him. "I mean, you shouldn't get stressed in this job, they sense that. The bloodsuckers, I mean. They'll sense it and torment you for it."
 
"You don't have t' work down here, Hazel." The man replied, walking over to the sink and tugging a dish towel off a rack "If I break somethin', I still pay for it. I don't ask for any different from the rest of you."

"Oh, can it, Hank, I already said I'd pay." Amiel snapped, though there was not much heat behind it "And I won't break anything. I'm not a complete klutz." He paused his pacing, taking a moment to lean against the counter and look at Hazel with a exhausted, small smile "They've already done that, don't worry. Sebastian wasted no time."

He never did. The vampire poked at whatever he could. It had been years, and somehow, it still managed to be annoying. And nerve wracking. And just not good for his mental state. The list could actually go on forever, if he really tried. It was amazing that he didn't have grey hairs somewhere. It was either that or he hadn't noticed them yet.

"I'm being forced into a party tomorrow. I'll be asking Oswin to stand in, though. Either her or Danny. I'm not going." He said, rubbing his forehead "I can't. I just can't. I can't stand him for a whole night." It wasn't the whole truth, of course, but it wasn't particularly WRONG.
 
"And you think he's just going to let someone cover for you? He loves torturing you, I hear him gossip about it all the time when I'm putting away laundry," snorted Hazel, the short woman hitching herself up to sit on the counter. She felt she had the freedom to relax a little in a space where no vampires were going to come, and where she really didn't have any work to do.

Sure, she was expected to cook-- but Hank could be notoriously perfectionist with how things were prepared, and more often than not, he simply told her to sit back and let him take over. Her messy preparation style did contrast and battle against his far more neater way.
 
"She's right, kid." Hank piped up, turning for a moment to wave the towel in Amiel's face "Ain't going to be that easy. You're gon' get yourself killed. You're not dumb, just go to the party. How is it any different from usual, eh? 'S the same thing every time, won't change."

Of course, they were both right, but his options were limited and he had a better chance with not going. He had no REAL choice, even though he wished he did. It was either get killed for getting found out, or get MOST LIKELY killed for having someone replace him. The second sounded better, even if not by much. He'd take what he could get.

Amiel sighed, scowling "I know that, but I'll say I'm sick. I probably will be anyway. I doubt they want a sick human around the party, right?" He stated, crossing his arms "Well, most of them wouldn't. I'm sure Sebastian would be delighted to have a reason to pummel me, but still. I'm not going."

He sounded like a child, repeating the same stubborn statement over and over again, and the fact he couldn't share the REAL reason why was killing him. They were convinced, most likely, that he just didn't want to go, which wasn't wrong, but wasn't the whole story. Right now, he probably seemed foolish.
 
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