i’m losing my mind oh my god. so. i basically dipped on all of my writing classes for the last two months bc of health shit. came back to short stories class for the first time and she told us voice actors would be reading our short stories. and i was like “oh i’m sorry i never turned anything in :/” and then she told me something about how she gave the voice actor a monologue i wrote but i all i heard was “hey remember that extremely homosexual half-assed monologue that’s basically pure yearning + character description you wrote in 10 minutes when i asked you to ? that’s what he’s reading.” i’m gonna scream. this poor actor had to REHEARSE this and now my friend is forcing me to ATTEND THE ZOOM and WATCH HIM PERFORM IT. this is fine <333
a/n: hello! this literally might just be a one time occurrence and i might disappear right after this (because writer's block is something that i am attached to) but i need to put out this fic somewhere . also listened to "the true meaning of loyalty" from the house of the dragon s1 soundtrack the whole time so there's that ...
summary: bad finally steps out of line for the first time in a millennia, disrupting the dance he and foolish have been doing since the beginning of time. it's such a shame someone they loved was involved, isn't it?
wc: 2k
It’s the fear in her voice that ticked him off after they entered her room. Then the deflecting.
Hell, the whole time they were having their conversation on that cursed camel ride, an itch on the back of his head was whispering that something was wrong. But thousands of years of existence caused him to turn away from the poking. It was fine, he told himself. Being around her was like this. Being around humans was always like this, with their fragility and limits.
Then the sound of Bad’s familiar and unwelcomed footsteps turned that itch into a rash, covering his skin with blood red warning signs. Talking to him didn’t even settle concerns–how did he already know that she was in a fragile state? Before him, who was supposed to be her confidant, her leader? The one who gave her her last life?
“Ros and I have a scheduled appointment.” This personification of death murmurs, his voice sharpening the blade of his reaper. The king’s eyes narrow in return, his arms crossing.
“I just know whatever that means, it can’t be good.”
The hooded figure doesn’t deny it, but shrugs, and Foolish can’t even question anything further when he hears his architect’s boots clicking against the hollow wood, purple hair flowing out of her helmet like a tired waterfall. Her words of nonsense are mumbled into incoherent sounds as if to soothe the redness of caution inflaming the king’s blood.
“What's going on? What is this?” He interrupts her, her scared silence meeting his own. He was grasping for ideas, for final straws, when he asked with disbelief, “are you joining Green?”
“No!” Ros denies breathily, her usual fire back in her tone. “No, I'd never do that.”
The totem scoffs quietly and squints. Something is still off. “And what’s this appointment? Bad says you have a ‘scheduled appointment.’”
“Yeah, it’s like a therapy appointment… um, I have to talk to him, about, um, something,” She stutters and looks to Bad. “And it’s going to be fine, I just wanted…” Ros’s hair slips from her helmet when she looks down, clutching her spear close to her heart, like a knight surrendering. “If that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah, you can talk with him. It's fine. I mean, just be careful with this guy. Whatever advice or whatever he has to say might not be good…” Foolish says, tone etched with years of practice with this dealer of despair.
He’s only met with silence from the both of them. He’s about to speak, but Bad’s soft murmur interrupts him, asking Ros if she wants to put her stuff in a chest with a hesitance that he never has. That only makes Foolish tilt his head.
“For our walk? Yeah, sure!” Ros says with her usual glee, but that only sends this immortal king over the tipping point and into a panic that he hasn’t felt since his last life.
“Wait. Wait. Hold up, timeout!” He follows the both of them out into the hallway, a breeze flowing through the castle’s entrance, swaying the banners and ruffling his dark hair. “I don't know if I like this idea of no armor!”
Ros is having none of it, completely ignoring his pleas, and Bad–curse him–is not questioning this either, like this is a regular day and Ros is acting like her usual self. The totem of life turns to this immortal figure that he’s danced with for so many years, feeling a change of pace in their shared steps, but it becomes a fleeting feeling when violet rushes past the both of them and down the palace steps in breath. He just shakes his head at his dance partner, disappointed, but for what?
Bad asks if Foolish wants to come with them on their walk as they trail after Ros, long strides matching her fast pace, and every single thing is doused in the scarlet of alarm bells. Sight, sound, and feeling is overwhelmed by confusion and anxiety, and it’s worse when Ros mentions talking to Lukey of all people with no idea where he is. For the love of everything, he thinks, irritated with the lack of information, someone tell me–
Aimsey's voice, laced with worry and the clicking of sculk sounds, worms into his head. It makes him flinch. Did you talk?
He stops in his tracks, gravel hard under his feet. The glint of the scar underneath one of his emerald eyes glints when he looks off to the side, setting sun kissing the old mark on his gold skin. Yeah, he replies.
Not good?
He moves forward, whispers of a warden’s cry following in his footsteps. Decent, he tells them, but now Bad is here. Bad and Ros stop underneath a tree near the marking line that indicates the separation between death’s land and his own, their voices far away from the one inside his head.
Yeah. I'm worried, comes Aimsey’s response.
The king tsks, sharp fang poking out of his mouth. Something fishy is happening.
He can feel their ink coated presence wrapping around his brain, as if seeing through his eyes. I’ll stay hidden.
“Why do you want to talk to Lukey?” Bad questions, his voice interrupting the totem’s thoughts.
“I don’t.” Ros responds.
That causes Foolish to reel back, finally snapping into the present with a nervous laugh, hands in front of him like he’s trying to placate a startled animal. “What? Okay, what is happening?”
Ros’s wide, violet eyes meet her king’s, and she says, “Okay, Foolish, don’t tell anyone.” Already, he feels falsity embracing the cadence of her voice. “But, I was going to organize a surprise picnic and I wanted everyone to be there! As a gift to the realm, you know, and make everyone happy and I feel like Lukey… Obviously, I killed Lukey and that was a terrible thing and I should have never done it. I think, maybe, it will be a good thing to apologize.”
Even without the warden-imbued voice accompanying his thoughts, decreeing the lie, he would have known it for himself. His Ros wouldn’t back down on her initial kills or set up one particular thing to please someone for the other faction. No, this wasn’t his Ros. No.
“Ros, this sounds like the time you were lying to me about joining Green.” He tells her, shaking his head. His cloak doesn’t shield him from the incoming night’s breeze and the unease crawling up his body or her wistful eyes.
She doesn’t deny it, and the only sound that takes the place of her response is Bad opening his coat with gentle, slow hands and pulling out a crossbow, nimble fingers entering sharpened arrows. Of course, the grim reaper of the realm is taking the time to fidget with his prized choice of violence at a time like this.
“Maybe it would be good if you did join Green,” Bad speaks, blowing off invisible dust off the tip of his sparkling arrow. “We could set aside our appointment today and you could join.”
Foolish swivels his head to Bad, another laugh escaping his throat. Confusion is bleeding into the slightest bit of terror when he questions, for the umpteenth time, “Could someone please just tell me what this appointment is?”
The night casts her shadow over the three of them now, stars peeking over her favorite’s shoulder as he cocks the crossbow into a position to fire while the sun’s treasure shifts on his feet, a wave of familiarity going through him when the weapon is being aimed at him. This he knows. This is in line with the dance that he and Bad have been following for a millennia, not whatever has been happening in the past few moments.
It’s falling into place, now, right? Bad is adhering to the steps, making an extravagant gesture by placing a chair for Foolish to sit on so he can be battered to death, just to come back, and Ros is upset and detached because she knows what Bad is about to do but can’t tell him. This is normal. These actions are what makes the invisible rash of warning decorating Foolish’s skin die down, hushing the fire that’s been eating at him.
Or is that what he’s telling himself?
“Are you about to kill me with that crossbow?” The king asks with a smile, but Bad barely looks at him when he replies with a straightforward no.
Then, the smile wipes itself from his face when, instead of facing him with the firearm, this angel of death turns to Ros and fires.
It’s like time slows.
The first thing the king could possibly do for his favored architect was jump in front of the arrows aiming for her heart so they could embed into his own, hoping that the life that he gave her not so long ago doesn’t slip between both their fingers at the hand of their kingdom’s worst enemy.
“Wait, wait, wait, no, Ros!” Foolish says, arms grazed with the cuts of diamond arrows, his crown in disarray and horror multiplied by the tenfold in his green eyes. “Timeout! No! What is happening?!”
Ros’s small hand is wrapped around her king’s bicep, pulling him back from the path of injury, but he’s used that to shove her behind his tall frame, trying to do the same. He holds a hand up to Bad’s crossbow, shoving the front so it’s aiming down to the path below them, careful so it wouldn’t hit Ros again.
Her blood is seeping through his fingers, the arrows jutting from her shoulders causing the maroon, warm liquid to pour down her armor in rivers. No.
“Timeout, Bad!” The totem calls, and it feels like he’s Ros’s life in his hands. “What are you trying to do?!”
“I’m trying to kill Ros, Foolish!” Bad replies, a grin on his face. Foolish pushes back when Ros tries to escape his arms, and she successfully does it when his grip loosens at Bad’s reply. But his smirk… It’s the one he gets when he’s enjoying the kill, yet it’s… smaller than before. Regretful, only by the tiniest bit.
That regret is shadowed when Foolish pulls Ros back by her wrist, desperately trying to shield her. Her eyes are down, and for the first time, she doesn’t want to make eye contact with him. What is this death wish?
He grips her shoulders, not caring of the slickness that’s already flown down to her torso, covering her hair. He’s shaking her, watching the blood seep further, just to get her to face him fully. To show that fire that she had for him when she first dedicated herself to the kingdom, not this… horrible variation of it that wanted to go to the realm where he couldn’t reach her. “Did you make some kind of deal, Ros? Did you–”
Ros’s wet armor causes her to easily slip out of his grasp, this moment now going too fast, hollow eyes not meeting him when Bad doesn’t even give her time to speak, asking, “Is there anything you have to say to Foolish, Ros?”
Ros is in front of her king, like she was made to be there, protecting him when all he wants is the opposite. She’s not the immortal here, playing with the time that she has to waste, she has one life, a life that can’t be spared for some game–
“No, I don’t.”
“No? Okay.”
With the pull of the bow string and the click of the trigger, she’s gone, into death’s arms, her blood still trailing between the totem’s fingers.
It's then that causes Foolish to look into Bad’s downcast eyes, realizing that they were finally not on the same page anymore. That he’s been dancing a different routine this whole time and Bad just manipulated him into thinking that they were still partners.
Of course the price of this knowledge was only getting rid of someone that they both cared about. Of course.
"you make a compelling point," paris allows, a grin tugging at her own lips. "i've heard it is a pretty great cock…" she's definitely gotten no complaints from elena, and with how often they've been doing this lately, the petite brunette would definitely know. paris groans quietly as she feels how hard she's getting as elena strokes her, the girth of her cock more than filling the other's hand, already. "hey, when have i ever turned you down when you're in the mood to suck me off?" paris chuckles softly, joining elena in checking out their surroundings. the thrum of arousal was even heavier with the risk involved, she'd have to admit. "you know i love giving you what you need, babe. especially when what you need is my dick in your mouth. but if you don't want to get interrupted mid-suck, you'd better hurry…"
tid bits about serpent's resident evil verse !!! i will most likely focus on "village" for present days threads simply because it's in this timeline that she lamentably loses the last bit of humanity that she had left.
an orphan with neither name nor heritage to claim as her own, serpent is one of the countless orphans that live in the shadows and cower in both fear and terror on the sides of the streets. but there is something wrong about her, there is something uncanny about the pallor of her skin and the colorless irises of her eyes, whose sea of whites and grays is rimmed with blood red. while some lost children are indeed saved from this poignant life, serpent does not attract the attention of any savior and soon enough, at the mere age of five, she is kidnapped by a group active in the black market to be sold as live food for a rare serpentine specimen that has to be transferred to its new owner.
the little girl has no idea of what is happening [ ... ] all she knows is that the back of the truck is painfully cold and dark and that the black snake is now tightly coiling around her smaller frame, suffocating and strangling her, making her frail bones crack and digging its fangs into her bruised skin. she swears that she can feel it ... the venom that now courses through her veins, alongside blood that has always been deemed unholy and impure. but the little girl does not die, the little girl still dreams of sunlit skies and blossoming flower fields and warm arms that will one day welcome her ▬▬ the venom suddenly awakens something within her, a visceral corruption whose source she will never discover ( who is the specimen of past experiments ? is it her, or is it the snake ? ) .
few are the scientific explanations for what happens next: the same snake that was trying to devour her, is now cowering at her feet in submission. it is an odd feeling that she does not know how to properly articulate but the little girl hastily swears to her captors that she's now able to communicate with the snake and demonstrates it by forcing the snake to obey to her every order. unfortunately, this does not lead to a happy ending ... she is sold alongside the rare snake to a wealthy family and it is here that she will spend the next fifteen years of her life.
the little girl is no longer a shadow, the little girl is now a tool. she is placed within a small cage beside the giant one where the rare snake resides and her abilities are employed by her owner to film horrendous movies that are then sold for huge sums of money in the black market. the little girl is thus introduced to bodily horrors and violence at an early age, which ensures that she eventually becomes unsensitized towards the cruelty of the world. she behaves, she obeys to every order that she is given, she does not even complain about her hunger or her agony at staying in a cage that soon becomes much too tiny for her growing body ... she does all that she is asked to do, for the unique purpose of one day reaching that happiness that she has never ceased to chase after. it is in this period of time, that she is given the name SERPENT.
eventually, this nightmare ends. her impatience and unhappiness towards this situation escalates once her dream is openly mocked in front of her. the whole family is killed by her serpentine companion, no trace of them is left [ ... ] only a case that will never be solved.
after some weeks spent wandering aimlessly through the streets of the metropolis, she is found by the manager of an entertainment industry who seems to be awfully familiar with the movies that she took part in. with countless promises whispered against her ears, serpent decides to join their company of performers and easily becomes the most sought after performer by the wealthiest of clients. her shows, embellished by hypnotizing dances and dramatic songs and by the presence of her now gargantuan snakes, attract customers from all over the world and compel the greedy company to start touring the world in pursuance of earning even more fame and money.
and thus, the years go by ... the legend of the woman capable of speaking with snakes spread far and wide, paints her in an aura of eerie beauty and mystery. it is during this period of time that the company receives an invitation to visit a village hidden amidst the mountains and although the journey is indeed a treacherous one the amount of money offered by their patron makes it worth it. unfortunately, what awaits the troupe is not a village brimming with glee and excitement for the circus performers [ ... ] what awaits them is a nightmare. serpent is deemed a fit vessel for eva by mother miranda initially and is thus mercilessly taken away from the rest of the poor troupe, to be used against her will as a test subject for the cadou parasite. ultimately, due to the poor results of the experiments, mother miranda is forced to give up on her ... although serpent has indeed survived and has been blessed / cursed with greater powers than she could have ever imagined, the parasite has twisted and transformed her much too greatly to welcome the little eva.
no longer human, not even a monster ... but a venomous snake in the shape of a beauteous woman. after weeks of isolation so that she may grow accustomed to these new powers and learn how to control the violent instincts awakened in the depth of her soul, serpent is allowed to return to the troupe [ ... ] a troupe that she instantaneously slaughters, feeding their mangled corpses to her snakes and officially closing a chapter of her life that never brought her any happiness.
time goes by, but serpent is still there. settled within what remains of the circus trucks, surrounded by countless snakes that have come to serve their mistress, still dressed in the colorful garments of the mischievous jester and still embellishing her visage with a dulcet but fanged simper. from time to time, she even performs for the villagers, for humans and beasts both ... but happiness is still out of her reach, which brings her closer and closer to madness after every passing day.
@toeiyugimutou :: meme :: accepting!
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ✉ - push my muse back down when they try to get out of bed perhaps involving illness, injury, or sleep deprivation) "Joey, you have the worst cold I've ever seen. Just lie down for today- I'll bring you some soup?" {ToeiYugiMutou - I hope this is okay!
❝ you don’t gotta worry about me, yuugs. this cold ain’t gonna hold me down, i’ve dealt with worse things then some lousy sniffles !! i can’t just sit here when there’s perfectly good duelists to tak━━ ❞
ACHOO. sniff. hey, did the world always spin like that ? he can’t remember. he does feel yugi pushing him down though, and he’s not going to fight it this time.
❝ ... yeah that’s ... er, probably for the best. thanks yuugs. ❞
