#ch: oberon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jazlynriddle · 2 months ago

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Welcome to your life - Pt 3:

It's My Own Design Ch 7:

Summary:

Ominis fought to control his expression, to keep his hands from trembling. Five years. Five years since he'd seen his parents, and this. This was the reason they'd given him the honour of their time? This was the reason they'd sought him out at Hogwarts?

The bitterness welling up within him was thick enough to gag on.

New year, new allies, new responsibilities, new avenues of revenue, and new aspects of their own Ancient Magic to explore. As the Keeper and their partners enter their last year at Hogwarts, it remains to be seen if the new school year will bring with it new problems or adversaries, but they are confident in the strength of their relationship with Sebastian and Ominis. The three of them would endure, no matter what befell them.

And if they were wrong?

What a joke, they would suffer no alternative.

Warnings: Sebastian x MC x Ominis! Drug Addiction! Spoilers! Slow-burn corruption! Dark content! Fucked up 1800s orphanages! MC has no love for Anne or Solomon! Dubious happy ending (it's happy for MC, Seb and Ominis at least).

You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)

Notes:

Warnings: Mentions and very brief flash of a depiction of rape, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Torture, human experimentation.

Oh gawd, how could 4 weeks have passed and I literally only finished editing this chapter a handful of hours ago!? Also, fucking Word Document’s Read Aloud function decided to be a bitch and get some weird laggy shit inbetween paragraphs which made editing so slow and frustrating-

Maaaan, I was so swamped these four weeks, I feel like a goddamn psychic, because if I hadn't announced a delay, I most certainly would have after a week. Like, everything that could happen happened all at the same time and then everything else that I wouldn't have expected happened one after the other like goddamn dominoes.

Why am I so tired-

At least I miraculously managed to finish the artwork I planned for this chapter within like 5hrs, absolute insanity there, I must have had a Van Gogh-esque moment of delirium and actually managed to make an artwork without any re-drawing and without getting a hand cramp. Anyway, hope you guys like the art and hopefully it'll make it easier to picture the different energy types the Keeper's been playing with! =D

You can also view the artwork in HD for free on my Patreon page!

Drip.

Remember that time, Oberon? When we snuck into my dad's office and stole his firewhiskey and replaced it with tea? That was-

Drip.

-one hell of a heist wasn't it?

Drip.

Remember the time you accidentally kissed my girlfriend? Forgave you for that, didn't I, Oberon?

Drip.

Stood up for you against your dad when he thought you broke that pot on his shelf. He was all like “Oberon Selwyn, how dare you break my grandfather's urn!”.

Drip.

Yet, you think you have the right to feel betrayed?

Drip.

You never volunteered to take my place.

Drip.

You were just so relieved it wasn't you.

Drip.

Oberon...

Drip.

I was so scared... I was in so much pain...

Drip.

Obe-

Drip.

-ron...

Tap.

Drip.

Tap.

Drip.

Creeaaaak.

“A very good morning to you, Selwyn.”

Drip.

“How was your sleep last night?”

Drip.

Oh, look who's here...

Drip.

I think, it's your turn to feel-

Drip.

- fear.

Drip.

“Feeling well rested?”

Drip.

“No greeting for us? Not even a thank you? And here we were so-”

Drip.

“-nice, letting you have some quality-”

Drip.

“-time with your ex-best mate.”

Drip.

The only response the Keeper received from the dazed boy, bound as he was to a chair, was frantic breathing, as though he couldn’t even hear them. His half-lidded eyes glassy behind his brown matted hair, his face ashen and grey. They crouched before him, obstructing Selwyn's view of Macnair, who was strapped loosely to another chair just across from him, the black-haired boy's eyes empty and soulless.

Observing him, they noted that his hands spasmed every time the agricultural tool, that they'd borrowed from Ominis, and which Sebastian had then modified, released a single droplet of cold water to land on the centre of Selwyn's forehead. His eyes would jump erratically upon contact, and his whole body would flinch, almost as though that impact of a single bead of water could be likened to a blow to the head.

In contrast, the pauses between each droplet made his pupils dilate, his body near trembling, as though the next drop was the most terrifying thing in existence. Breathless anticipation for it driving him mad.

Which was the point, of course.

“What do you think?” The Keeper asked.

“Well, I'd say he looks about right.” Sebastian shrugged. “Nothing for it but to take a look I'd imagine.”

“True. I'll take a quick peek to confirm first then.” They nodded absently as they drew their wand. “Legilimens.”

Entering Selwyn's mind felt like stepping into a thick sludge of creeping, crawling fear, and the Keeper recoiled as they were deluged with a suffocating blanket of anxiety. Well, at least his torture seemed to have stripped him of any mental defences he might have, much like emotional pain did.

As the Keeper struggled to get a hold of themselves, a droplet of water hit his forehead with all the force of a bludgeon to the head.

Aaand nope. Without another thought, they promptly did an about face and exited his mind.

“Hoo boy, now that is disgusting, ugh. Absolutely awful.” The Keeper shuddered, trying to shake off the feeling. “Well, I'd say that was incredibly effective, how did you even come up with this one?”

Sebastian gave an awkward laugh, flashing a sheepish grin as he scratched the back of his head. “I'd love to take credit, but I actually got the idea from a short story in an American magazine.”

“You read magazines?” The Keeper raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, my brain would be mush if I only read tomes, I do some recreational reading from time to time.” Sebastian straightened defensively.

“Would it kill you to pick up a newspaper instead?” The Keeper sighed.

“Bleh, you get more out of magazines than the papers if you want anything new and interesting. Pure gossip rag, the Daily Prophet.” Sebastian shook his head. “Anyway, The Compromiser, it was called, the short story that is. Never thought its description of Chinese Water Torture was something that'd end up useful, but here we are.”

“Remind me never to cross the Chinese.” The Keeper chuckled dryly.

“Doubt it's actually Chinese, the story's in English and didn't seem like it was translated, imagine the author might've just named it like that to make it seem more interesting.” Sebastian rolled his eyes.

“That so? Well, either way, it looks like it worked.” The Keeper grinned. “Now let's see if I can extract anything from this.”

The Keeper closed their eyes and began scanning Selwyn's aura. As they did so, they quickly realised that every time the water hit him, pain would radiate across his aura, making it difficult to detect anything else. It was curious that such a small thing could cause pain, but then again, the steady drip of water upon stone could eventually erode even rock, perhaps it wasn't quite so strange.

“Seb, could you put a pause on it?” The Keeper leaned over to whisper into their partner's ear.

“Sure.” With a quick swish of his wand, the contraption ceased its uneven release of water and the Keeper returned to their examination.

As time stretched out and the expected droplet never made its descent upon Selwyn's skin, his fear and anticipation only mounted, and as it did so, the Keeper focused. Raising their wand and attempting to detect the strand of emotion, one they did not know the texture of, yet must certainly be present for his mind was so deeply steeped in it.

Somehow, however, they weren't finding shit. The Keeper fought the urge to punch the sobbing and trembling boy, because it wouldn't help if they added pain into the mix again.

The Keeper took a deep breath, maybe they were coming at this from the wrong angle. Pain signals to the body that something needs resources and attention to heal, fear on the other hand... it wasn't fun, but they thought back to what they'd felt in his mind. Tightness in the chest, difficulty breathing, numbness in the fingers...

Fear... perhaps it was less a signal and more a... state of being? How would they get that out then? Where would they get it out from? The Keeper frowned and began scrutinising his aura, perhaps rather than something moving... they focused their ancient magic on the body of the aura itself.

Maybe instead of scraping pain as it rippled off the surface of the aura, they'd need to literally dig deep. After all, fear comes from within.

So, they did. The Keeper forcefully burrowed their ancient magic into his aura, piercing the surface tension, slowly and painstakingly reaching the tendrils of their magic deeper into his soul. It took a few moments, before they noticed that the tips of their fingers, wrapped around their wand, were getting... cold.

There was a barely noticeable chill creeping up along the wood ever so slowly, its frost setting in so gradually, that it'd escaped their attention.

“What the-” The Keeper hissed, flinching when their magic touched something distinctly slimy, and cold as ice.

The tendrils of their ancient magic recoiled naturally from the uncomfortable sensation, only for whatever they'd touched to follow them, its chill clinging to their magic as the Keeper frantically withdrew from Selwyn's aura. Their eyes opened as they extracted their magic, watching with disgust as their wand came away with a long black string of thick, slimy, and sticky looking... goop, clinging to it.

“Ugh, is that his fear?” Sebastian's voice sounded equally disgusted as he held out a jar under the strand, where the pooling gunk was hanging low.

“I think so.” The Keeper grimaced, trying to shake the goop from their wand and into the jar. “At least it didn't cost much, didn't need to meld my magic to it or anything, it just- clung to me on my way out.”

“Well, fear is contagious and rather hard to shake off.” Sebastian mused, raising the jar to look at the sticky mess clinging to its glass walls.

“I suppose so... gave me chills when I touched it.” The Keeper grimaced. “I think this is the first time I've not wanted to taste a new type of magic.”

Sebastian gave a sympathetic laugh. “Yeah, no kidding, this stuff looks pretty nasty. Reminds me of ink cap mushrooms.”

“Still, it behoves us to test it regardless, it could prove too useful for mere discomfort to dissuade its use.” The Keeper sighed, folding their arms. “After all, we've seen in testing how much more powerful and efficient even a fraction of the energy created by the Cruciatus curse is. Boosting both magic and physical strength to the same level as a full hit with only half a dose. Even if it costs too much to harvest it...”

They trailed off, their expression becoming distant for a few moments, before their eyes widened.

“Hang on, if it enhances both... I just had an idea.” Lowering their arms, the Keeper immediately made for the cell door. “Let's go to the lab.”

Sebastian blinked in some confusion, as they rushed out of the cell.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” The Keeper paused mid-step to call back to him. “You can start up the drip again.”

Sebastian chuckled, flicking his wand at the dropper tool, amused when its first drop actually got a scream from Selwyn. Exiting the cell and closing the door behind him, he dutifully followed his partner at a jog, quickly catching up to the Keeper, who was already halfway up the stairs.

“So, you know how I tested the Cruciatus pain energy a few days ago.” The Keeper began speaking the moment he caught up to them.

“Uhuh, after spending an hour convincing Ominis to agree to the test.” Sebastian flashed a wry grin. “I hope you've got something good planned for the Fear, because I think he's just about ready to explode again.”

They grimaced, shaking their head at the reminder. “Well, I'm sure I'll think of something, but I can worry about that later.”

He shot them an incredulous look, they'd really gone ahead with the experiment even before preparing an argument for Ominis? Exactly how improvised were those arguments?

“If you recall, at the time, I theorised that it was because of the intense mix of emotional and physical pain, caused by the Cruciatus curse, that raised its pressure high enough to rip a hole in Macnair’s aura and likely why it provided such a powerful boost when consumed.” The Keeper explained, sounding more like they were thinking aloud rather than speaking for his benefit.

Pushing open the door to the potions lab, the Keeper strode across the room to the second potions station they'd added for themselves and waved their wand to begin setting up the cauldron. They then plucked two jars from the table's shelf as well, one labelled E-Pain, for emotional pain, and the other P-Pain for physical. He could see where this was going.

“I think, if we mix emotional and physical pain energies, we might be able to create more of that.” The Keeper gazed at the jar of red and black lava still remaining on the shelf, labelled C-Pain, their eyes gleaming with greed. “Cruciatus Pain energy.”

“Without the cost of a test subject.” Sebastian nodded, it made sense.

“I'll just use this cauldron...” The Keeper murmured to themselves, opening the jar of P-Pain energy, and dumping its thick and bubbly liquid-like contents into the pot. They then opened the jar of E-Pain energy, catching a wisp of bubbly smoke with their wand and lowering it into the cauldron as well.

They hadn't even heard him, Sebastian shook his head with a fond smile, they sure are excited. It was kind of strange, seeing his partner so animated for a change. He wasn't sure what he looked like when he got excited, but if it was this cute, he could see why they were always staring at him with that smile around their eyes.

Seeing the Keeper frown and heave a disappointed sigh, he placed a hand on the table and leaned forward, peering into the cauldron, and quickly understanding the source of their frustration. The bubbling smoke wasn't mixing with the heavy liquid. Instead, the gassy cloud of bubbles seemed to be creating a layer, sitting over the top of the liquid.

“Maybe give it a stir?” He offered them a ladle and they raised a sceptical eyebrow at him, but took it anyway, lowering it into the pot and giving it a swirl.

Unfortunately, the ladle went right through the stuff, not causing the energy to move at all.

The Keeper sighed again. “Bloody incorporeal energy.”

“Let's not give up yet, why don't you add more emotional pain?” Sebastian suggested. “Maybe it's like potion making and won't react until it's the correct amount?”

“You're right.” The Keeper nodded, giving him a grateful smile, and pulling out more of the energy to add to the mix, murmuring quietly under their breath. “Come on...”

As the smoky layer thickened and the jar gradually emptied, Sebastian noticed that the table under his palm had begun to vibrate ever so slightly, and a feeling of unease washed over him.

“Look out!” He yelped, grabbing the Keeper by the shoulders, pulling them a step back when the cauldron began to hum.

There was a blinding flash of red light, and then the pot went still.

Sebastian's shoulders sagged in relief. “Merlin, thought the thing was going to explode or something.”

Giving Sebastian's hand a gentle pat, the Keeper smiled. “Well, it didn't, but I appreciate your caution.”

Returning to the tableside, the two of them peered into the cauldron and a wide victorious grin spread across the Keeper's face. “Well, looks like I was right about the combination.”

Inside the pot, was now a familiar molten liquid, rolling and swirling restlessly in defiance of gravity.

“And I was right about the ratio.” Sebastian grinned proudly and they nodded with a satisfied smirk.

“Now all we need to do is get more physical pain and we'll be able to convert the entire repository into this... complete pain energy.” The Keeper chuckled and began pulling the freshly created C-Pain energy into the empty jars.

As his partner busied themselves, Sebastian's eyes drifted over the shelfs, checking that all was in order, before his roving gaze came to a stop, resting on the jar of black inky Fear energy. Hang on...

He squinted at the jar.

Was it moving!? Sebastian quickly took the jar down and stared at it intently for a few moments.

“Hey.” Sebastian lifted his head, his brows furrowed. “The fear's... evaporating.”

“It what!?” The Keeper exclaimed, eyes widening in alarm as they set down the jar they'd been holding and snatched the jar of Fear from his hands.

Inside the glass was the unmistakable sight of black smoke rising from the inky sticky mess, and they could easily tell from the residue on the jar's sides that its contents were steadily diminishing.

“Blast. I have to test it before it dissipates then.” The Keeper frowned.

Sebastian's eyes widened in surprise. “Before convincing Ominis?”

“We don't know how fast this will disappear, we can't afford to wait.” The Keeper grimaced. “We'll just have to deal with that later.”

“Good luck with that.” Sebastian's tone was dry, and he caught their hand before they opened the jar. “Hold on a minute. Considering what happened with the wall, perhaps we should do this in the hallway.”

“Ah, yes, good idea.” The Keeper nodded, glancing at the jars on the shelf, before quickly leaving the room with Sebastian in tow.

Outside, the Keeper was once again faced with the question of how to consume a new type of energy. They'd gone with putting the lava-like C-Pain energy in their mouth, like they had with P-Pain, but they really weren't keen on doing that with the icky Fear, even though they knew it wasn't likely to have any taste either.

Drawing a small glob of Fear out of the jar with their wand, the Keeper hesitantly raised it towards their mouth, when said glob decided to elongate, creeping inconspicuously towards the floor, unbeknownst to them.

“Ah, dripping!” Sebastian exclaimed, drawing their attention to it.

The Keeper quickly moved to catch it with the jar and jumped when the string of goop draped across their thumb, its chill sharp and biting against their skin. To their surprise however, the black substance quickly seeped into their pores, their veins pulsing an inky dark, visible just under the surface.

Well, there was their solution then.

“Here, hold this for me.” The Keeper handed off the jar to Sebastian and lowered the rest of the glob, still attached to their wand, into their palm.

In a few moments their body completely absorbed it, the black substance vanishing entirely from sight. Almost instantly, the Keeper felt their heart rate pick up, a lot more than with physical or complete pain energy, they could hear it pounding in their ears and feel it thumping in their chest.

“Oh, okay, that's creepy.” Sebastian commented, his expression rather discomforted and his words oddly muffled in the Keeper's ears.

“What is?” They asked, the question coming out a little breathless.

“Your eyes are black.” Sebastian shuddered. “Completely. Even the whites.”

“Interesting...” The Keeper murmured. “Perhaps all the varying emotions and senses will have different effects on-”

Fuckin’ round with ‘nother bloke ey, slag?

The Keeper stiffened at the barely audible whisper, spinning to face the dark hallway stretching out behind them, their shoulders tense and their eyes darting about in search of its source.

It was empty, not a soul in sight besides Sebastian and themselves, yet that mocking voice had been unmistakable...

“What's wrong?”

Disgusting whelp.

“Lumos.” The Keeper raised their wand to illuminate the dimly lit hallways to their left and right. Where was it coming from? There was a creeping sensation prickling up along the back of their neck, a familiar feeling, the gut tightening sensation of being prey in the eyes of a predator.

Give us a good show then...

“Love?”

On your knees.

They felt it, a shift in the air, the intent of another to grasp their shoulder and force them into submission, the instinct to flee or fight.

Time slowed, every fibre of their being painfully aware of its approach as their heart pounded in their ears.

Without thinking, the Keeper's hand shot out to catch the wrist of their attacker, pulling him forward and slamming him against the wall, their other hand planted firmly between his shoulder blades.

“Ow ow ow! Merlin, I know you like it rough darling, but you gotta give me some warning.” Sebastian groaned from where he was pressed against the bricks and the Keeper immediately released him as though burned, recoiling in confusion.

“S- Sebastian?” They gasped, taking a few shaky steps backwards, their fingers trembling and their knees weak from shock.

“Oh good, you can hear me again.” Sebastian pushed himself off the wall, rubbing his wrist with a dry chuckle, skin red where they'd grabbed. “I was beginning to worry that you might not be able to see me either. Merlin knows I've enough experience with that.”

“What-” The Keeper shook their head, pressing a hand to their warm forehead, the two of them were the only ones in the hallway. Why had it felt like they were in imminent dange-

Sebastian took their hands with a soft smile, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of their fingers soothingly as the black gradually faded from their eyes. “It's alright, it's probably just the Fear you took, likely as not.”

“I- yes... yes that must be it.” The Keeper took a deep breath and shook their head, trying to dispel the lingering disorientation. “Bloody hell, it felt so real... I feel like a right moron. Are you alright? I didn't hurt you, did I?”

They retrieved a hand to brush their thumb gently against his cheek, the soft and freckled skin slightly pink from where it'd impacted the wall.

“It'd take a lot more to injure me, I'm sure you know.” He shook his head with a cheeky grin, before it took on a wry tinge. “Those were some fast reflexes, I'll give you that. But for once, I think it might be better to abstain.”

The Keeper nodded slowly. “I think I'll agree with that sentiment... its boost to reflexes aren't worth that level of anxiety. Over such a small dose no less.”

Not to mention auditory hallucinations. Even if they became more agile, it would be useless if it made them jump at things that weren't there.

“Seems like we won't be able to store it outside a host for very long besides, not exactly a viable substance for use either ways.” Sebastian shrugged.

“...true...” The Keeper sighed. “At least we've confirmed that other emotions can also be extracted.”

“...are you going to tell Ominis about this?” Sebastian asked after a moment.

“Of course. It'd be worse if he found out later. We've done that before, Sebastian.” The Keeper raised an eyebrow at him.

“No, I know, I just... I never know how to help when he's upset.” Sebastian grimaced, taking a breath. “I- it's just, it bothers me. What does it say about me that I can't comfort him after all this time? I love him so much, but I just keep saying the wrong things, sometimes I don't understand why he even likes me.”

“Because you try, because you keep trying. And you have helped. You don't succeed all the time, but he knows you're trying.” The Keeper cupped his jaw gently, placing a soft chaste kiss on his lips. “And I know, so I'm alright with helping you comfort him.”

He placed a hand over theirs, shaking his head ruefully.

“But I freeze up, I panic and open my mouth and then I blurt out the most rubbish things and make him feel worse. Aren't you tired of having to fix my mistakes too?” Sebastian murmured, peering up at them from under his lashes, looking uncharacteristically uncertain.

There was that soft, vulnerable, and very much afraid boy, hidden under all that bravado. Courage was being afraid but pushing through it and trying anyway. The admiration the Keeper had for Sebastian was indescribable and it hurt to see him so insecure.

The Keeper shook their head, the need to reassure him and comfort him was strong enough, that it felt like it was crushing their heart. “Neither of us are, nor need you fear, for I never will be. Everyone's bad at some things and good at others. We're partners. That means we help each other and make up for each other's shortcomings.”

“Ominis knows better than anyone, that being unable to do one thing doesn't make you any less than another. And I know that you hate people who look down on him, for being unable to see, just as much as I do.” The Keeper pressed their forehead against his. “So, don't do it to yourself either.”

A shaky smile fought to raise the corners of Sebastian's lips and the Keeper could see that he was flustered and struggling to find a way to respond, his eyes lowering shyly.

Taking his hand, they tugged him back towards the lab. “Come on, I need to finish packing away the completed pain energy. I'd also like to try making as much of it as we can with the physical pain we've harvested so far, and I need you to help me take notes as we go.”

“Ye-” Sebastian cleared his throat, swallowing before straightening and trying again. “Yeah, sure. Maybe we can figure out the exact ratio of energy, then we'll know how much physical pain we'd need to convert the entire Repository into pain's final form.”

“Sounds like a plan, I'll be counting on you.” The Keeper flashed him a grin and was pleased to see it returned.

“Yeah. Won't let you down.” He squeezed their hand tightly and followed them into the room.

Oh, it's quite alright, they're always being all stoic, and mysterious. They never tell anyone what they're working on and now they’re not letting me see the vivariums till they’re done, such a tease. Then again, I don’t have to tell you, that’s probably something you have to deal with often enough, I don’t know how you do it. You must tell me, one of these days, how you even get them to speak more than five words at a time!

Ominis chuckled, it was indeed a little frustrating that the Keeper rarely kept him in the loop as much as he'd like, quite like Sebastian, but he supposed that could be their own pride at work as well. Both of them. Still, Poppy's words did remind him that the Keeper and Sebastian were naturally very secretive people, and that they were incomparably more honest and forthcoming with him than anyone else.

And that was a good thing.

Even if he wanted them to be more so, especially considering the effort he'd been putting into being more open to discussion and compromise.

“Ominis, we're home.”

He lifted his head, a smile forming on his lips naturally at Sebastian's voice. He might complain about his boyfriend's clinginess, and they may butt heads often, but Ominis couldn’t deny that having Sebastian close always put him at ease in a way he couldn’t explain.

“Welcome home.” Ominis set down the letter he'd been reading.

“Have you had dinner?”

The accompanying sound of the Keeper's footsteps and subsequent sensation of fingers sliding lightly along his arm, on the other hand, made his heart skip a beat. How did this person constantly manage to just do things that made him feel so off-balance? Whether it be anger or arousal, even in the second year of their relationship, he was still getting embarrassingly affected by them.

“Not yet, I was waiting for the two of you to return.” Ominis answered, feeling oddly shy about the admission, perhaps it was a result of Poppy calling out the Keeper's favouritism towards him and Sebastian.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting then.” The Keeper replied, sounding chagrined as they took a seat at the table beside him.

“Not at all, I had just finished reading Poppy's return letter myself.” Ominis shook his head.

“Then let's speak while we eat, we've got some... um, updates for you too.” Sebastian suggested, dropping into a seat as well. “Tibsy.”

As Sebastian spoke with the summoned elf and she set the table with their dinner, Ominis frowned in concern. From his words and the trepidation audible in his voice, Ominis had a feeling that those updates weren't going to be about the castle's construction progress.

“Thank you, Tibsy. You may retire for the night.” The Keeper's dismissal was followed by a soft pop as the elf left.

“So, what is it you have to tell me?” Ominis asked, finding his utensils, and using them to examine the contents of his plate. Spearing a small strip of stewed sea cucumber with his fork, he popped it into his mouth, enjoying the springy texture and flavour of the gravy it had been soaking in, before beginning to cut up the venison steak beside it.

“We've been conducting research into the extraction of elements other than pain from our remaining guest.” The Keeper began, and already Ominis was irritated. “Today I successfully extracted Fear from him.”

“Why? Such a thing is unrelated to curing Anne.” Ominis demanded, his eyes narrow, they hadn't even taken the time to consult him before doing this... “It's inviting unnecessary danger, meddling in things we needn't and wandering into unknown territory.”

“Ominis, this power I have is completely unknown. The only person researching it was a madwoman from four hundred years ago.” The Keeper sighed. “Everything is unknown and will forever be so, if I do nothing with it.”

“Omi, I know you're worried about us, but if we don't find out, no one will. Are you really okay with letting this power just disappear, allowing knowledge to remain out of reach?” Sebastian entreated, and Ominis’ jaw tightened in response.

“I am.” Ominis replied firmly. “I'd rather ‘waste’ this opportunity than lose either of you.”

“Unfortunately, we wouldn't.” The Keeper's voice was hard. “We can't. Ominis, I understand your fear, but I can't just do nothing. This power is a part of me, and I want to understand it. To understand myself. And I need you to accept this.”

Ominis’ lips tightened, and a moment of silence passed, as he bit back the itch to snap that he was constantly the one pressured to be accepting of their decisions. Even he understood that it wasn’t like they’d chosen to have this Ancient magic ability that’s more unknown than your average witch or wizard’s skillset.

“You're the only person, I think, who can find their wand just by feeling its magic. The only one whose wand helps them see, and yet you still use it.” Sebastian pointed out. “Nobody taught you, nobody could. You had to figure it out on your own.”

Ominis sighed, he couldn’t quite argue with the two of them when they put it that way. Would he stop using his wand sight simply because it was unknown and could be dangerous? ...the answer was obvious. He too had tested the capabilities of his wand's vision, straining it to its limit to try and understand his own abilities.

“I suppose I can see where you're both coming from. It's just-” Ominis’ breath caught at the fear that gnawed at the edges of his heart. “I can't lose either of you.”

“You won't, we'll be careful.” Sebastian insisted. “In fact, we were so careful that- ah.”

The Keeper sighed and Ominis frowned.

“You were...” Ominis repeated, going silent for a moment, before the knife, clenched tightly in his hand, came down abruptly, its tip stabbing into the meat of his steak with a squelch. “You already tested it!?”

“Unng- sorry.” Sebastian murmured, likely to their partner.

“It's fine... I was about to go there anyway.” The Keeper sounded very tired. Well, too fucking bad, Ominis was pretty tired too, of being treated like his opinions on the experiments didn't matter.

“Ominis.” The Keeper's warm fingers brushed against his fist as he clutched the knife, and Ominis hated how the contact immediately soothed some of his anger. “Ominis, love, please hear me out first.”

He ground his teeth but remained silent.

“The Fear energy we’d collected appeared to be evaporating. I couldn't be sure that we would be able to successfully harvest more, and we didn't know how long it would take before it disappeared entirely." The Keeper paused for a moment, before continuing in a cautious tone. “Ominis, had I believed it wouldn't take an hour to persuade you, I might have waited for you to be present. However, I'd only have reason to believe that, if you were able to trust my judgement.”

“You didn't even give me the chance!” Ominis snapped back indignantly, offended that they were making their own secrecy out to be his fault.

“Why would I, when every other time has required no less than an hour to convince you?” The Keeper replied, their voice quiet and pleading. “Love, I'm not blaming you, I'm just telling you my reasoning for my decision. I didn't think you'd give me permission in time, if at all, because I had no reason to.”

“That's-” Ominis released his fork from his left hand and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I-”

“...Ominis, I understand your fears, but I will not always have the time to seek counsel from you. I care about what you feel.” The Keeper's fingers were rubbing against his gently and it was starting to become difficult to hold on to his anger. “But if I am to do anything without making you feel like I'm intentionally hurting you by doing so, I'd need you to trust that I do care and would do my upmost to act with consideration for you.”

“I- I do! I just-” Ominis bit his lip and shook his head, he did want to. He really did. He wanted to trust them. He just couldn't get the feeling to go away, the fear of being betrayed. He didn't know how to. It was there, everywhere he looked, and he couldn’t turn away from it.

“They could have kept it from you.” Sebastian's voice shook, and Ominis wondered what was making him sound so afraid. “We could have kept it from you. Entirely. Think about it Ominis, you didn't even know we were experimenting with Fear. We could easily have kept it a secret completely. But we didn't.”

Sebastian took a deep breath before speaking in a rush, as though he were forcing the words out. “I asked them, if they were going to tell you, and they didn't even hesitate. I did. I was afraid that you'd be angry, that you'd push us away. Push me away, again. But they didn't want to betray your trust more than they feared your wrath, and neither did I.”

Ominis blanched. Fear? He'd made Sebastian afraid? Of telling him the truth?

“If you give us reason to fear being honest with you, eventually that which you fear… might become a reality.” The Keeper's voice was enviably calm, despite the gravity of their words, and Ominis was starting to feel like he was the one who'd been behaving like a hysterical woman.

“Ominis, while I understand it, it does still hurt to know that I don't have your trust.” The Keeper murmured, their voice sad. “You're not the only one who hurts when we do this.”

He flinched, that's right, he'd feel pain too if they expressed doubt of him and his love for them. He'd said the same himself when convincing the Keeper to be honest about their addiction. He'd allowed himself, in his pain, to forget that if they were being honest, his reaction in and of itself would then be causing pain as well.

“I... I'm sorry.” Ominis sighed, releasing his knife along with his anger, and taking the Keeper's hand in his own instead. “Sebastian, I- ...that helped. I couldn't change my perspective, not on my own. Thank you. Both of you.”

Ominis paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. “I'm... I can't say I'll always be able to take it calmly, but I do trust the both of you, or at least, I want to. And… and I’ll try to remember this the next time you tell me about something you did before getting my input.”

“Darling, it's okay if we have to do this again, because with this, you've given us reason to believe that you will trust our judgement, that under your initial panicked response, you trust that we would do what pleases you if we could.” The Keeper placed his palm against their lips, so he could feel their smile. “That all we need do is remind you.”

Ominis smiled in return, perhaps this is what he should have done when Sebastian sought to cure Anne, perhaps this was the same problem Solomon had had. He and Solomon had made Sebastian afraid to be honest with them, and all it'd done was push Sebastian to pursue a cure in secret, almost costing him Sebastian altogether.

Yet, both he and Solomon had believed full-heartedly that the dark arts would also take Sebastian away, turn him into a monster. How was he to reconcile such a dilemma? Or could he do both? Not give his lovers the impression that he would reject them outright, while still maintaining his position.

“See Seb, I told you, you do manage to say the right thing sometimes.” The Keeper chuckled, loosening their grip on Ominis’ hand.

“Ugh, I think I burned half my brain cells doing that.” Sebastian groaned, and the sound of his chair's legs creaking quietly suggested that he'd leaned against its backrest.

“Save your relief for after you tell me what happened during the test.” Ominis folded his arms. “I get the point about my needing to be careful not to scare the two of you into dishonesty. Especially when you can’t get to hear my opinion, but I'm still going to evaluate your actions and decide if I'm alright with you even continuing this experimentation to begin with.”

There was a moment of silence, before the Keeper snorted. “Fair enough.”

Leaning forward, the Keeper steepled their fingers together thoughtfully. Honestly, they were very relieved at how smoothly that had gone, they'd been concerned that it was too early to try pushing that idea to Ominis, but it seemed like it'd been the right time to do so.

Now, the question was how to present the events of the day. Since Sebastian's factual and straightforward approach had been well received...

“Well, for starters, Fear energy seems to behave like, well, fear. It didn't need much in way of extraction, all I had to do was touch it and it latched on to me, following my magic out of Selwyn.” The Keeper began, taking a bite of their now cold steak. “An hour or so after extraction, Sebastian noticed it evaporating in its jar.”

“Yeah, it was practically smoking away.” Sebastian nodded, following their lead, and returning to his food. “I suggested we perform testing outside the lab, where there was more space. Turned out to be a good choice.”

“Upon testing, it appears to induce increased heart rate and anxiety, breathing difficulties, and auditory hallucinations from... unpleasant memories. Not an experience I’d recommend.” The Keeper drawled with a grimace. “As for benefits, it seems to boost reflexes, but we've decided that such a meagre benefit is not worth consumption and I've discarded it as a source of energy.”

Ominis blinked in apparent surprise and Sebastian flashed him a wry smile. “I told you, we're being careful.”

The shadow of scepticism crossed over Ominis’ face for a brief moment, before he shook his head and smiled instead. “I'm glad to hear that the two of you at least have the sense not to take something that sounds like outright poison.”

At his words, a sharp grin spread across the Keeper's face and their eyes gleamed with dark delight. “Funny you should say that, darling, because a few hours later, we made a discovery that makes this energy extremely viable as a poison.”

Ominis seemed to shiver at their words- Sebastian too actually, and the Keeper raised an eyebrow at their reactions. What? Was it something they said?

“What-” Ominis cleared his throat, cheeks slightly pink. “What did you discover?”

Brushing the moment off, the Keeper continued. “We found this.”

The Keeper withdrew a small pouch from their pocket and turned it upside down over the table. A single black orb fell onto the wooden surface with a solid thunk, about the size of a Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Bean, its surface pitch black, perfectly smooth, and glossy.

“The Fear wasn't simply evaporating, it was condensing.” The Keeper tapped lightly on the table where they'd dropped the orb. “I'm calling it a Fear-Pill, at the moment. Take a look, I'm curious if you'll be able to see it with your wand.”

Setting down his utensils, Ominis drew his wand, and its tip began pulsing with red light. “Hm, I can tell there's something there, yes. My wand's sight is a bit difficult to describe, but it feels like magic, like spells do when cast, just swirling about on the spot.”

“Interesting.” Sebastian hummed thoughtfully.

“We haven't tested this yet-” The Keeper quickly continued when Ominis expression became alarmed. “On Selwyn! Not on either of us.”

“Yeaaah, I know you don't think highly of our self-preservation instincts, but we're not that stupid.” Sebastian huffed. “If barely a handful can drive our fearless leader here batty, this little bugger's got to pack a hell of a punch.”

“That'll be fun to watch.” The Keeper exchanged a snide grin with Sebastian.

Ominis sighed. “Hopefully it doesn't kill him.”

“Yeah, there's bound to be a decent danger of that.” Sebastian nodded absently. “Would probably be good for you to be on standby on the First Basement floor.”

“We should probably get more Fear out of him before testing the pill, in case it kills him. Next week should do.” The Keeper turned the pouch inside out and picked up the Fear-Pill with it, before placing a hand on Ominis’ shoulder. “We'll call you if we need you.”

Ominis smiled softly. “You'd better.”

“Well, that's boring.” Sebastian commented dryly.

“Maybe it's not having any effect because the fear came from him?” The Keeper frowned down at Selwyn, who was slumped over in his chair, jaw still hanging agape after they'd forced the Fear-Pill down his gullet.

“Oi, Selwyn.” The Keeper kicked lightly at his leg, expecting him to react, to attempt to fight or flee despite being chained to the chair. They'd become fast enough to catch Sebastian's hand in mid-air after consuming the Fear-Pill, but Selwyn's body showed no sign of any change, his eyes weren't even black.

Then again, his eyes weren't just not-black, they also weren't moving. At all.

On closer inspection, his wide eyes were completely vacant and didn't even react to their words or actions. Which was definitely not natural, creepily so. Perhaps...

The Keeper drew their wand. “Legilimens.”

Huh, no defences again- the thought had barely crossed their mind, when the Keeper was forcefully pulled into a memory, flinching when they were hit with a wave of pain and the sound of muffled screaming.

They had been expecting it to a certain extent, but they’d pegged the boy as an entitled and pampered rich kid, one with perhaps some bad memories of being denied candy. They certainly hadn't expected to see violence, much less someone fucking Selwyn's ass raw into an expensive looking carpet.

“P- please, brother- stop- it hurts... I'm sorry-”

Yeap, that was a mental image the Keeper could have done without. They exited his mind immediately.

“How'd it look?” Sebastian asked as the Keeper came back to themselves.

“Horrible, he's in a waking nightmare.” They grimaced in disgust. “Seems like he's been sexually violated by his brother before, and the pill is making him relive his traumatic memories.”

Sebastian's eyebrows climbed into his fringe. “Huh. That's darker than I expected, I'd feel bad for him if he hadn't attempted to murder you a million times.”

“Does make sense I suppose. Monsters are made by other monsters...” The Keeper murmured, thinking of Isidora, of Ranrok, of themselves, of Ominis and Sebastian.

A heartless witch created by negligent mentors, a vindictive monster created by racism, a cannibal created by a corrupt system, a rabid cornered animal created by an abusive family and a sadist created by a callous uncle. They were all monsters by society's standards, in one way or another, but they hadn't appeared out of nowhere, they were a product of a world of monsters.

But the Keeper was fine with being a monster, they would simply chain two to their side and devour the rest. Perhaps then the world would have less monsters in general.

“Macnair probably had something too.” The Keeper mused as they holstered their wand, frowning thoughtfully. Well, Tynx was out on a grocery run so... “Tibsy.”

The elf popped into the cell and gave them a nervous bow. “Yes, Master?”

“Monitor him and record the time that he exits his stupor.” They gestured at Selwyn. “Don't worry, he can't hurt you while chained to the chair.”

“Yes, Master.” Tibsy squeaked, bowing again and the Keeper turned to leave the cell, before she quickly called after them. “Oh, Master, Tibsy was being helpings to Sir Ominis with brewings...”

“Oh, is that so? Thank you for letting me know.” The Keeper blinked. “Come on, Sebastian. We were planning to update Ominis anyway.”

“Do you really have to?” Ominis heaved a sigh.

“Well, mixing emotional and physical pain created an enhanced version of pain. So surely adding fear would only enhance it further, or at least give us something new.” Sebastian reasoned, and Ominis’ lips pressed into a thin line.

“Sorry for summoning Tibsy in the middle of helping you brew.” The Keeper smiled sheepishly.

“It's fine.” Ominis shook his head with another long-suffering sigh. “Just- just be careful, alright?”

“Of course, Sebastian can help you with brewing while I play around with the energies.” The Keeper gave him a kiss on the cheek before striding to their potions station leaning against the wall to the right of Ominis’.

Setting up the station like before, the Keeper dumped half a jar of completed and combined C-Pain into the cauldron, before opening a jar of liquid fear, labelled L-Fear, which they'd extracted before they'd given Selwyn the Fear-Pill. A majority of it had already solidified but there was still about half a jar worth of liquid remaining.

They'd found that the necessary ratio for C-Pain was equal amounts of E-Pain and P-Pain. As such, they'd attempt to reach the same ratio for L-Fear and C-Pain today. Drawing out the Fear with their wand, the Keeper grimaced as the sticky black slime began its slow descent into the cauldron.

The instant that the Fear's black tendrils touched the bubbling red and black lava however, the substance reacted violently, hissing, and bubbling angrily.

A beat passed, before a shock wave blasted out from the cauldron, knocking the Keeper's wand and the jar of liquid Fear from their hands, sending both flying in two directions.

It almost felt like time slowed, the Keeper watching in horror as the jar of Fear flew in the direction of Sebastian and Ominis at the station to their left.

No. The Keeper's chest tightened, this was their fault. Neither Sebastian nor Ominis should ever be touched by Fear, they wouldn't allow it. They wouldn't allow either of their lovers to be forced into anything approaching the nightmare that Selwyn was trapped within.

Reaching a hand towards the boys in desperation, the Keeper shouted. “Protego!”

At the same time, turning to look at the sounds, Sebastian spotted the incoming jar, and immediately realised that there wasn't enough time for him to cast anything or pull Ominis out of the way. Instead, he placed his back in the path of the black liquid spilling out of the jar, covering the other boy in his arms as he braced for impact.

Only for the sound of shattering glass to follow.

Opening his eyes tentatively, Sebastian raised his head, his breath heavy as he looked behind him, surprised to see the black ink sliding down a protego shield and the Keeper behind it, their open palm raised towards him and Ominis. The shield flickered for a moment, before disappearing, allowing the glass and Fear to slide to the floor.

“Are- are you two alright?” The Keeper gasped, their chest heaving.

“Y- yeah...” Sebastian nodded, his eyes wide. “Did you just- did you just cast wandless magic?”

“I... I suppose I did.” The Keeper blinked, lowering their hand to stare at their own palm.

“What happened?” Ominis demanded, his tone contrasting with the way he clutched at Sebastian's arm, looking somewhat like a spooked deer.

“The energy... reacted explosively.” The Keeper explained, taking a few steps around the mess on the floor to embrace the two boys. “I'm sorry. I should have been more careful.”

They'd need to put up a shield around the cauldron next time. The Keeper breathed a sigh of relief, cradling Ominis’ head against their left shoulder and Sebastian's against their right. That had been close, too close. Both of the boys had more than enough traumatic memories, a Fear stupor would be absolutely awful for either.

It was one thing for them to hurt themselves for their goals, and another to hurt their treasured ones. Not even the greatest power was worth that.

“What are the chances you'll finally stop this insanity?” Ominis mumbled, his words muffled against the Keeper's tunic.

“...next to none, I'm afraid.” The Keeper grimaced, stroking a hand over his hair. “I will take more precautions however, you have my word.”

With a sigh, Ominis shook his head. “And if someone gets hurt the next time something unexpected goes wrong?”

“...we'll just have to be three steps ahead. I won't waste this lesson.” The Keeper replied firmly, turning to press their lips to the side of Ominis’ head. They could still feel the tension in his body, but he sighed again and seemed to relent.

“Sebastian said... did you cast a wandless protego?” Ominis asked instead, changing the topic, and trying to lift his head from their shoulder, only for the Keeper to force it back down. They weren't ready to let him go just yet. He gave a soft amused huff against their collar and remained still.

“Yeah. I- I think my wand's somewhere on the other side of the room.” The Keeper murmured.

“You're absolutely crazy.” Sebastian chuckled. “Ancient magic, wandless magic, it'd make more sense if you were the reincarnation of Merlin himself.”

Ominis made a thoughtful sound. “...children usually start learning magic with wands at eleven, while their cores are still too weak to wield proper magic…”

Sebastian hummed. “Oh, that's right, maybe it’s because you’ve only just started using a wand. So, not only is your core already fully grown, your body hasn’t become reliant on wands yet.”

The Keeper took a last breath of their mingling scents before releasing the boys. “Sounds reasonable to me...”

Casting their eyes about, the Keeper spotted their wand lying by the wall across the room and stretched their hand out towards it. “Accio.”

To their delight, their wand did in fact, move towards them. To their disappointment however, it did so in a slow and sluggish roll across the floor, like a ball in Summoner's Court, before stopping an entire meter away from their feet.

“Well, guess there has to be something you're not a natural at.” Sebastian grinned wryly, sounding oddly pleased about that.

“Isn't Onai- I mean, Natty, from Uagadou? I heard they don't use wands there. Perhaps she would be willing to teach you.” Ominis suggested.

“That's a good idea, I've seen her use wandless magic before too, I'll ask her about it.” They nodded.

Wandless magic, huh. The Keeper grinned, excellent. Another weapon in their arsenal.

Notes:

You can also view the artwork in HD for free on my Patreon page!

Chinese Water Torture was first described in the late 15th or early 16th century by Hippolytus de Marsiliis, an Italian chap, so it's prooooobably not Chinese, but who knows man.

I don't like the ‘hysterical woman’ stereotype, but unfortunately it's the kind of thing a man in the 1800s would think. So, please note that that mental comment from Ominis is only there because of time-appropriate sexism, not because I'm endorsing that kind of mentality.

I think that it is no coincidence that in Hogwarts Legacy's story, thrice is a character denied support and given rebukes for their pursuits (Isidora, Sebastian and Natty) and all three of those times, the character pursues it anyway, just on their own rather than with supervision and guidance. Which is far worse than letting the person pursue it and just being there to support them and guide them.

Many parents fail in the same way, at balancing the danger of letting a kid do what they want and letting them make mistakes vs forcing them to not with an iron fist. I believe that if Professor Rackham hadn't shut Isidora down, he might have been able to guide her off the path, same for Solomon and Sebastian, and Onai and Natty.

The difference between Isidora and Sebastian (and Natty), was that Isidora didn't have a friend who refused to give up on her and a friend who was walking her path with her. MC and Ominis are the reason Sebastian has the option of a good end- I mean, the reason Sebastian gets a good ending. (Another ending? Where he gets turned in? No clue what you're talking about, there is only one ending.)

Also, dunno if you guys remember but in Part 2, chapter 5, Ominis used the “Don't you trust us?” guilt trip on the Keeper too, so they're just uno reversing it back on him haha

There's also a curious conflict between your average person and an explorer. Explorers are, by the common man's mind, insane. To risk all and everything for an endeavour that may end in absolutely nothing or even backfire. Yet humanity's greatest achievements have been from such adventurers with more curiosity than fear.

It is fascinating, the intersection between the people who must have wished their loved ones stayed in their boring everyday life rather than lost it in search of the literal unknowable and the adventurers themselves. I find that I relate well to both, the desire to preserve happiness and the urge to seek the unknown at the risk of it.

Both desires have been at constant war within me since I was a kid, and I have a feeling that I am not alone in this internal conflict. So, it is honestly fun to write such perspectives into different characters and pit them against each other xD

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #gender neutral mc #mc x sebastian sallow #mc x ominis gaunt #sebastian x ominis #sebastian x ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #fanfic #jazlr welcome to your life #jazlr #lgbtqia #nonbinary

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shaelashaela · 1 year ago

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The King's Curse, ch. 1

(Note: This is direct continuation of Before You Were Born. I suggest reading that story first if you haven't. The subject matter of this story is also a bit darker, so out of caution some chapters will be marked mature.)

[cw] physical intimacy, non-consensual touch [reading time] 5½ mins.

“Do you not recognize your King?”

He towered over me, imperious. Never did I expect to meet Oberon in my life, especially not in the human world. But now he stood in the middle of Ravenna’s Books, and he demanded my attention. The world around us stopped at his behest, freezing Rayna mid-stroke of the pen. I was exempt from the effect, so he wanted something from me in particular.

In paintings, the King of the Summer Court wore elaborate gold and purple robes with shining pauldrons and greaves engraved with roses. Now, though, he made a genuine attempt to blend in, and he sported a grey three-piece suit with a white scarf draped over his shoulders. The gold-tipped walking cane in his right hand, however, pushed it back towards the ridiculous. He was still obviously an elf, though—unlike me, he let his pointed ears push through his long, black hair.

His patience seemed infinite as he awaited an answer, and, after a moment, I found my voice. “I—sorry, no. I have never been graced by the honour of your presence, Your Majesty.”

Oberon inclined his head forward, satisfied with that answer. “Good and well. At least you know to speak with respect.”

I wondered if I should curtsey. I read of such customs in books, but I wasn’t certain if elf nobles still considered it in vogue. All the same, I pointed my eyes toward the floor out of respect.

“What may I do for you, Your Majesty?”

“Answer Us true, Sylvie Shaestari: was it you who slew your own father?”

I winced. No, I did not kill my father. I killed the man who sired me, but he was nothing more than that. No way would I contradict him, though. “If you refer to Nox Shaestari, Your Majesty, then yes, that was me. I know I should have sought the justice of your court, but I would ask your forgiveness. It was a matter of self-defence.”

My liege brought his hand up to stroke his chin, which looked odd to me since he had no beard. “Were it a matter of Our justice, we would be settled, young alchemist.”

My confusion was plain in my voice. “Then what troubles you, Your Majesty?”

“This man you killed was known as Ixion at my sister’s court. He was favoured by her.”

I swallowed hard. That didn’t sound good.

He pointed the tip of his walking stick at me. “You will answer to her, in order to preserve the peace of Our kingdom. Leave on the morrow for Wintervale and do whatever she shall ask of you in reparation.”

My brain just stopped. What? Make reparations for Ixion of all people? Like hell I would! I tried to think of a retort, but confusion and rage combined inside me, refusing to form into anything coherent.

One word squeaked out: “Why?”

His eyes became slivers of sapphire. “We have spoken.”

The part of me that screamed I was about to commit suicide was overridden by another part of me that was already sick and tired of my kinsmen toying with me. “No! No way in hell I’m going back to Wintervale—”

A bolt of lightning crackled through the tiny shop and pierced me, racking my body with pain. Was that some form of magic? It was so incredibly powerful, and I never saw him lift a finger. I screamed as my flesh melted from the intense heat.

Then all was fine. Bewildered, I looked about, but nothing in the store was amiss. Some sort of glamour, then. That the pain felt very real, though, terrified me.

King Oberon took a step forward, his voice low and threatening. “Perhaps you require an incentive.”

Unsure of what he would do next, I cowered. I screwed up this time for certain and expected more pain, but to my horror, he moved towards Rayna instead. She stood behind the front desk of her shop, utterly unaware of what happened in her stasis.

Oberon shifted his cane to his other hand and placed a single finger on my girlfriend’s forehead. Fear washed over me. A complex arrangement of arcane lines appeared where he touched her, folded nine times upon each other: the mark of a death curse.

He turned to face me, glowering like my father did when I disappointed him. “Seven days you have to appease Queen Morrigan. When she is satisfied, the curse shall be lifted.”

I fell to my knees. “Your Majesty, please! She has nothing to do with this—”

“And she will fare well if you do as We have decreed. Do not cross Us again.”

With this final proclamation, he faded from my sight, and the world around me resumed. The shop regained its colour as Rayna looked up from her paperwork and noticed me kneeling.

“Sylvie! What’re you doing on the floor?”

We laid together in bed, each holding the other’s hands. Over the past few hours, Rayna went from anger to tears to anger again and finally to despair. She agreed with me that it was unfair I should answer for the death of someone who stalked me and made my life a living hell. She was also furious that my King had violated her with a curse. It took great willpower on my part to be strong for her while also fearing for her life, and by bedtime we were both weary for very different reasons.

She looked at me with her beautiful brown eyes. I could still see them by the light of the street lamps outside, and bedtime offered a clear view of her face without glasses. It was a moment of peaceful bliss each night.

“Sylvie, what’re you going to do? Do you think this Queen will kill you out of revenge?”

My fingers fidgeted with hers. “No… that’s what I’m afraid of. Whatever she wants is likely to be far worse than death. I’m more worried that I won’t be able to appease her at all, and then you’ll die if King Oberon doesn’t lift the curse.”

She nodded and brought my fingers up to her lips briefly. “Just when I thought it was all over…”

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean for you to get dragged into this… uh, again, I guess.”

“I know you didn’t. It’s just… it’s just so unfair.”

Her lip quivered, and I feared she might cry again. I would do anything to avoid that, so I lunged forward and pressed my lips to hers in a bid to stop the tears. Her eyes widened at first, but then she closed them and leaned into me. Winding her fingers through my hair, she pulled me into her embrace and showered my face with hungry kisses. Shock paralyzed me at first, as I’d never triggered such unmasked passion in her before, and I wondered if I could keep pace with her.

After the momentary alarm, I closed my eyes and let her go where she would. Her mouth travelled across my jaw and down my neck, places she’d dared not kiss me before. I felt a little guilty… had I taken things too slow? Was this what she wanted all along? Or a previously unseen moment of vulnerability? Perhaps it was an equal measure of pain and passion, but if I could ease that pain, then I would be happy to oblige. She slid one strap of my pyjama top to the side, and the feel of her mouth and tongue on my bare shoulder was exquisite. I never knew the skin there was so sensitive, and the sensation reminded me of a bug’s tiny feet shuffling across my skin.

Her fingertips combed through the hair on the back of my head and walked down my spine, tickling the small of my back. She slid her hand into the waistband of my shorts, and her fingers were warm on the bare skin of my hip. This wasn’t so bad, after all. Her other hand slipped under my shirt and cradled my back. Her touch was frightening, but also exciting. Never had I allowed someone to hold me like that before.

She nibbled on the little bit of skin between my neck and shoulder, and I mirrored some of her movements, sliding my hands under her top to drag my fingernails lightly across the skin of her back. My touch elicited a soft moan from her, and the response elated me. I loved bringing her happiness. I loved sharing this moment with her. I loved her.

Rayna pressed her soft lips against mine again. This time she slid her tongue into my mouth, and while it felt weird at first, it was still warm and welcome. Then her left hand moved lower and tugged gently at my clothing. I opened my eyes, suddenly and keenly aware that she was attempting to undress me, and a rush of adrenaline shocked my body like the bolt of lightning earlier that day. Her right hand moved from my back to my chest, and her fingertips brushed against my breast.

Without a thought, I put my hands on her shoulders and shoved hard, pushing her away from me bodily. It was a purely panicked reaction.

Astonishment crossed her face, leaving her mouth agape. “What the fuck?”

I couldn’t believe I’d reacted so violently. Hopefully, I didn’t hurt her. My whole body shook, and my voice trembled as well. “I—I’m sorry. But I don’t think I can… I r-really—I don’t think I can do this.”

She placed her hands over her face and made a short, muffled scream into them. “Ugh! Why can’t things ever be simple with you, Sylvie? Merda!”

Clumsy excuses tumbled from my mouth, but she wasn’t having it. She grabbed a pillow and stomped off downstairs to the shop floor. I didn’t know what to do, nor did I have the strength for an emotional argument with Rayna. I cried myself to sleep instead.

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tenderblight · 3 years ago

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Choking on Ashes

(TW: Blood, gore, mentions of abuse, cannibalism)

100 Years Ago, Age 11

“I have to tell you something.”

“Not right now, dear.” Sitting in front of a large mirror, the queen, my mother, patted at her upturned nose. Powdery blush turned the tip of the fluffy brush a warm pink. The vanity was just barely level with my nose when I stood on the tips of my toes. “We have to get ready for this dinner, why aren’t you dressed yet?”

Standing in my pajamas, I shifted from foot to foot. “Well—“

“Where is your brother, anyway? Silver dear? Are you ready?”

“Mom, about one of the guests—“

“What about them, Joshua?” She sighed, eyes tired when they met mine.

My mouth opened, and at that moment, the man’s voice rang in my ear. “Do you think they will believe you? Over me? They trust me, and how could I ever hurt our precious prince?”

The words died on my tongue.

“Well?” She said impatiently, “What is it?”

Snapping my jaw shut, small hands fisted my shirt. Skin crawling with the memory of hands.

“Well then, go get ready and tell me later when you remember.” With that, I was dismissed.

At the dinner party, it was announced I would begin working under general Oberon. After dinner, his hands squeezed my shoulders, looking down at me with sparkling eyes. The top of my head touched the middle of his chest plate as I strained to look up at him.

Dread settled over me as he spoke, “You will be my perfect machine.”

75 Years Ago, Age 36

At the lowest levels of the castle, before reaching the depths of the dungeon, was a cavernous room. Most days, it sat barren, empty, and cold. Only ever used for private events and parties for the elite.

Today, though, was a rite of passage.

My ascension through the ranks— the only people to be in a position above me were general Oberon and The King.

Silver had finally made it through his schooling, the title of Doctor bestowed before the feast even began.

I should’ve been happy. I should’ve felt pride.

All I felt was numb.

Music echoed down the hall I stood in, bursts of orange light from the fire show casting shadows on the wall across from me. Surprised to see Oberon as he stepped through the doorway, his gaze cast down the opposite end of the hallway, then back to me.

“There you are.” He turned the corner. “Why aren’t you celebrating? This is a big accomplishment for you. Where’s your pride?”

Pushing off the wall, I ran my hands through my hair, pushing it back and out of my face. “I… I don’t know. Don’t get me wrong, I feel accomplished. I do.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I feel…. Numb. Like this isn’t real.”

“Ah.” He clicked his tongue, a knowing sound. “You’re not the only one.”

He extended his arm, offering his hand. “Trust me, I understand.”

Tentatively taking his hand, his thumb rubbed over the back of my knuckles, as he’d done so many times before. “My angel, there’s always a way to break free of this… paralysis of emotion. Come with me.”

Leading me down the dark hall, the music faded slowly, turning a corner, it was nearly pitch black. “Have you ever considered studying magic?”

“No, I have no gift. It would be no use to me.”

“Ah, that is where you’re wrong.” Suddenly, a ball of white light appeared, hovering inches above the palm of his hand, lighting the way. “Magic comes in many forms. True, raw strength, such as you possess— it can be boosted, through ritual, through artifacts—“

“Using such magic is treason. A sin against God.” He should know this, he’s heard the many speeches, hell, he’s given them himself.

“Ah-ah, don’t you remember what tonight is?”

The party. A heathen party— a night of sin and depravity. All to be washed away at the sunrise blessing. Sins are forgiven and wiped clean.

“I believe it’s time to give you your gift.”

At the end of the hallway, was a heavy wood door. Releasing my hand, he pushed it open. Revealing a bigger room than I imagined— almost empty, save for a massive slab of marble engraved with glowing sigils.

With a wave of his hands, the orb of light broke into pieces and flew to the corners of the room, setting it fully alight.

Laying atop the marble, a human dressed in white.

Before the confusion could settle in, he explained, “Humans, unbeknownst to many, can be used as a source of power.”

“… How so?” I followed him into the room, the door shutting, a bolt lock clicking into place.

“They may not have access to divine gifts, but they wield the power of Creation. As demons, we can learn to craft artifacts that wield power, but we cannot give it power. Humans have a special gift— they have unending wells of power stored within their makeup. If they channel this power into what they create, they could be unstoppable. Alone, without this, they are weak. Pathetically so. But if you give a human woman a needle and thread, a hat may become a party trick with unending space within it. Give a human man iron and a forge, the sword could cleanly breach a dragon’s scales.”

He paced around the altar, standing opposite of me— the human between us.

“Why don’t they use this power?”

He laughed, “they don’t know how to channel it. Your father did away with many of their most skilled, burned the heretics and their books.”

“He rid the land of witches.”

“He tried to. Truth is, every human has the ability. It is difficult to wield, they must be exceptionally smart to attempt it. But this—“ he gestured to the human, “this, we can use to our advantage. See, the human heart is a powerful thing. . .”

My heart sped up as he explained the ritual, circling the altar, coming close behind me. My stomach turned over.

“. . . and won’t the pain of transforming set you free? What is agony to numbness? Pain to emptiness?”

Even after years, the feeling of his breath on my neck made my skin crawl.

“Think about it, you can be everything your father ever wanted. More than just the warrior prince. The true heir to the throne.”

The itching feeling that we were taking things way too far nagged at my brain.

But I learned a long time ago to have faith.

That was the first night I tasted human flesh.

By the time the sun came up, I was numb no more. Covered in blood and filth, washed clean with blessed water, I knelt along with everyone else as the King acted as a mouthpiece for the divine, cleansing our souls. Wiping us clean.

Making eye contact from across the room, the subtle, dampened smile on Oberon’s face settled the fear stirring within me. Maybe it was the blessing prayed over us, maybe it was the echoing reassurance that all can be forgiven and forgotten, maybe it was the metallic tang of blood that refused to leave my mouth.

50 Years Ago, Age 61

Collapsing, my body shook, stomach turning over and heart hammering against my ribs.

Don’t vomit, don’t vomit—

A deep breath, and heavy exhale. The last of my spine snapped back into place.

“Very good, very good.” Oberon’s praise made it all worth it— the excruciating pain, the exhaustion, the transformation itself. It was worth it if he said it was.

The dingy dungeon echoed the words, the sound of his armor clinking as he stepped closer. His hand rested on my bowed head. “They say you have no divine gift, I’d stand to reckon God made you the perfect killing machine.”

Brushing back my hair, the tips of his fingers scratched down my scalp. I let out another heavy breath, my forehead falling against his gold cuisse. For a moment, the pain didn’t matter. Nothing but his attention, and praise, mattered.

Suddenly, he gripped my hair, yanking my head back sharply, forcing me to look up at him.

Crows feet etched into pale skin, blue eyes glimmering, there were a few silver hairs in his beard I hadn’t noticed before. Though I was fully grown, and he was slightly shorter than me— his presence was divine. Filling the entire room, or becoming a fly on the wall if he wished.

“Do it again, dog. I want to see what God has crafted through my hand.”

Present Day, Age 111

Buildings made of clay and wood burned all around us. Smoke choking out the sky— a surprise raid on an enemy town. Led by general Oberon. We had one task, and one task only: bring every building to the ground, and leave not a soul alive.

“Dog.” The word echoed between houses— down an alleyway that opened up into a bloodied, empty back street. Oberon’s voice commanding, calling me.

Rage was boiling inside, like molten lava, it filled my veins, burning me up from the inside. It happened every time I transformed- the pain of bones breaking and reforming, skin stretching over new muscle, teeth and claws bloody, bursting from skin and gums. Rage replaced agony. Five minutes after this transformation, I’d been loosed like a feral dog into the streets.

Honestly, it was all a blur.

But I knew my call, the general, and his disrespectful fucking pet name. Clambering over a downed wall that was more or less rubble, there he stood in all his might. A gold chest plate engraved with protective sigils. A soft metal that would otherwise never hold up in battle— a holy face, framed by grey-brown hair. His uniform was pristine— untouched, and while blood pooled at his feet, there wasn’t a speck on him.

For all the high and mighty strong man act he put on, he never got his hands dirty. Why would he? He had his dog to do his bidding. The dog he trained and groomed for years; the perfect killing machine, his pride, and joy.

Snarling, I came to a stop two paces away from him.

“There you are, what took so long?”

What took so long?

“This place should be ashes by now, have the heretics been destroyed?”

This form was useless when it came to speech— a roar replaced a yes. Tail lashing— the blood and smoke that surrounded us filled my senses. It almost looked black, puddles of blood shimmering in the light of the fires.

“Good. I knew you weren’t useless.”

Useless? Have I ever been useless?

95 Years Ago, Age 16

Spitting blood, all I could feel was pain. Screaming agony alight in every nerve. Metal connected with my ribs— the toe of his boot cracking bones.

“Get up. Get up! Useless, so fucking useless—“

His muttering continued, “I’m sorry,” I pled, “I’m sorry, I can’t, it’s— it’s too much, please, . .”

A backhand threw me back. Colliding with stone. Too weak to block, too tired to defend. Body broken and aching. “Do not apologize, it’s fucking pathetic. Weak. What am I to do with you if you cannot do the one thing you were born for? I should leave you here, let you fend for yourself. I’m certain you couldn’t fucking make it, you’ll come crawling right back. Groveling, begging, just like you always do.”

“Please,” Sobbing, I fell forward, dropping my head against the stone floor. “I can try again, I can, I can do it I promise—“

“Try again?” He mocked, “oh you will try again, you won’t stop till I tell you to stop, or you drop fucking dead. Remember; there is no place for the useless.”

Present Day

At the top of my class, there was only a single soldier under Oberon’s command that could best me in hand-to-hand combat. This town came down in five minutes flat.

Another snarl, gnashing my teeth— the gall, the fucking nerve, to speak to his prince in such a way? Who does he think he is?

The scent of blood was getting to me, my body screaming out. Hungry. Insatiable.

“Come here.”

What happened next, I couldn’t remember. Like spilling ink over a page, the moments between his request, and my coming to, were gone.

66 Years Ago, Age 45

“My Angel,”

Please stop.

“It’s like you haven’t aged a day.”

Just shut up.

“Come here, let me look at you.”

I hate you. I fucking hate you.

“I heard about your most recent raid; you’ve impressed me.”

Burn in hell.

“So many heretics put to waste, thanks to you, the kingdom can grow. The pride your father has expressed. . .”

Please, please stop.

Present Day

His chest plate was torn off, now mixed with the rubble and blood all around. His face was unrecognizable. That perfect, stern face— replaced with blood and gouged out eyes.

An iris stared up at me from my palm, drenched in blood, the blue seemed dirty.

Panic filled my being, an overwhelming sense of grief choking me. A pit opening in my center, as if I’d been gutted.

My mouth opened, blood and chunks of flesh dripping from my tongue.

No, no, no—

Squeezing around the eyes, I moved before I could think— my teeth sinking into the tough flesh.

The pit inside me only widened as I swallowed them, claws digging into the flesh over his crushed rib cage. Ripping into him, consuming, trying desperately to fill the ever-widening, painful gap inside.

His heart was still beating when I ripped it from his chest.

You can’t be gone, no, please— I still need you. Stay with me, stay forever.

Nails piercing the muscle, my jaw unhinged, swallowing it whole.

Finally— the hole filled. Temporarily satiating the grief.

“P-please, no…” my voice cracked, speaking for the first time in this form. “Please….”

Laying over the body, my breath caught in my throat, hiccuping, choking— my body slowly, painfully twisting. Deflating in size, my bones snapped back into place.

A roar turned into a raw scream, ripping from the depths of my core.

“Please come back, please come back, I still need you, you can’t— please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t leave me, please…” blood coated my hands, a thick layer soaking into my arms, my face— tears paving streams through it.

Metal on metal, footsteps falling.

“Shit, fuck, get a doctor—“

Wheezing, I pushed myself up.

“I don’t think… I don’t think we’re going to need a doctor.” Archer stood on a pile of rubble, covered in soot and blood, staring down, eyes full of cold horror.

#ch: joshua #ch: archer #ch: Oberon #short story #flashback #original fiction

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