vipier-a

[vipier-a]

hey y'all i remade tristan over at @vipier, same url, same rancid snake assassin, and also same me but better so pls follow if you feel so inclined!

[vipier-a]

Maya C. Popa, from Wound is the Origin of Wonder: Poems: “All inner life runs at some delay”

[vipier-a]

❤️

[vipier-a]

WEIRDLY SPECIFIC BUT HELPFUL CHARACTER BUILDING QUESTIONS

What’s the lie your character says most often?

How loosely or strictly do they use the word ‘friend’?

How often do they show their genuine emotions to others versus just the audience knowing?

What’s a hobby they used to have that they miss?

Can they cry on command? If so, what do they think about to make it happen?

What’s their favorite [insert anything] that they’ve never recommended to anyone before?

What would you (mun) yell in the middle of a crowd to find them? What would their best friend and/or romantic partner yell?

How loose is their use of the phrase ‘I love you’?

Do they give tough love or gentle love most often? Which do they prefer to receive?

What fact do they excitedly tell everyone about at every opportunity?

If someone was impersonating them, what would friends / family ask or do to tell the difference?

What’s something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!

When do they fake a smile? How often?

How do they put out a candle?

What’s the most obvious difference between their behavior at home, at work, at school, with friends, and when they’re alone?

What kinds of people do they have arguments with in their head?

What do they notice first in the mirror versus what most people first notice looking at them?

Who do they love truly, 100% unconditionally (if anyone)?

What would they do if stuck in a room with the person they’ve been avoiding?

Who do they like as a person but hate their work? Vice versa, whose work do they like but don’t like the person?

What common etiquette do they disagree with? Do they still follow it?

What simple activity that most people do / can do scares your character?

What do they feel guilty for that the other person(s) doesn’t / don’t even remember?

Did they take a cookie from the cookie jar? What kind of cookie was it?

What subject / topic do they know a lot about that’s completely useless to the direct plot?

How would they respond to being fired by a good boss?

What’s the worst gift they ever received? How did they respond?

What do they tell people they want? What do they actually want?

How do they respond when someone doesn’t believe them?

When they make a mistake and feel bad, does the guilt differ when it’s personal versus when it’s professional?

When do they feel the most guilt? How do they respond to it?

If they committed one petty crime / misdemeanor, what would it be? Why?

How do they greet someone they dislike / hate?

How do they greet someone they like / love?

What is the smallest, morally questionable choice they’ve made?

Who do they keep in their life for professional gain? Is it for malicious intent?

What’s a secret they haven’t told serious romantic partners and don’t plan to tell?

What hobby are they good at in private, but bad at in front of others? Why?

Would they rather be invited to an event to feel included or be excluded from an event if they were not genuinely wanted there?

How do they respond to a loose handshake? What goes through their head?

What phrases, pronunciations, or mannerisms did they pick up from someone / somewhere else?

If invited to a TED Talk, what topic would they present on? What would the title of their presentation be?

What do they commonly misinterpret because of their own upbringing / environment / biases? How do they respond when realizing the misunderstanding?

What language would be easiest for them to learn? Why?

What’s something unimportant / frivolous that they hate passionately?

Are they a listener or a talker? If they’re a listener, what makes them talk? If they’re a talker, what makes them listen?

Who have they forgotten about that remembers them very well?

Who would they say ‘yes’ to if invited to do something they abhorred / strongly didn’t want to do?

Would they eat something they find gross to be polite?

What belief / moral / personality trait do they stand by that you (mun) personally don’t agree with?

What’s a phrase they say a lot?

Do they act on their immediate emotions, or do they wait for the facts before acting?

Who would / do they believe without question?

What’s their instinct in a fight / flight / freeze / fawn situation?

What’s something they’re expected to enjoy based on their hobbies / profession that they actually dislike / hate?

If they’re scared, who do they want comfort from? Does this answer change depending on the type of fear?

What’s a simple daily activity / motion that they mess up often?

How many hobbies have they attempted to have over their lifetime? Is there a common theme?

[vipier-a]

t.ony g.ilroy could not be more dangerous to tristan if he literally held a gun to his head

[vipier-a]

tristan is honestly a tragic character and one of the biggest contributors to that IS the fact that he refuses to see himself that way at ALL. he refuses to acknowledge that he had a strikingly awful childhood, that his loneliness is written into every fiber of him no matter how much he tries to hide it because even his coldness and detachment or his feral anger echo that part of him more loudly than he realizes, that he portrays immense selfishness and self interest only to spend his entire life in service of others because he does not know how to exist without being used AND/OR he becomes so deeply devoted to his core that he will, with eyes wide open, follow his loved ones into fire even though he doesn't want to because his loyalty runs so deep to the very few who've earned it. he does not want to be tragic and in some ways actively campaigns to be the antagonist and villain and that honestly just makes him more tragic, in its way.

[vipier-a]

ASSASSIN’S APPRENTICE.

the following prompts were taken from the novel assassin’s apprentice by robin hobb, an american fantasy & speculative fiction writer. the novel is the first in the realm of the elderlings series, & the first book of the farseer trilogy set within said series. some sentences have been slightly edited for roleplaying suitability.  please note - this trilogy features an ongoing war, & this meme may include prompts that make mention of war, death, blood, corpses, & other things some might find upsetting. feel free to change pronouns & prompts as you see fit !   (   book two & book three.   )

❛ i think myself cured of all spite. ❜

❛ i fear i will have to set this work aside entirely. ❜

❛ my life has been a web of secrets, secrets that even now are unsafe to share. ❜

❛ perhaps i have heard the story so many times, from so many sources, that i now recall it as an actual memory of my own. ❜

❛ i can’t recall that i saw anyone. ❜

❛ please, i beg you ! ❜

❛ it’s a thing that will try [ my / your ] will to the edge of [ my / your ] very name. ❜

❛ it’s rough quarters for all of us here at this outpost. ❜

❛ for tonight, you’ll be warm here, & safe. ❜

❛ well, what to do with you is beyond me. ❜

❛ damn [ you / them ], [ you / they ] have [ your / their ] [ father’s / mother’s ] eyes as well. ❜

❛ have not you the sense of a flea ? ❜

❛ was there nowhere else [ you / they ] could put [ me / them ] ?  ❜

❛ if it had to be thought about, i should have done the thinking. ❜

❛ i am not at all pleased about any of this. ❜

❛ we scarcely need more confusion in the line of succession. ❜

❛ i am well aware that you precede me ; you need not flaunt it at me at every opportunity. ❜

❛ why should we tempt trouble ? ❜

❛ don’t do what you can’t undo, until you’ve considered what you can’t do once you’ve done it. ❜

❛ i weary so of your humour. ❜

❛ do you care nothing for the disgrace ? ❜

❛ to leave a [ me / you ] in a place like this is like leaving a weapon hovering over [ name’s / title’s ] throat. ❜

❛ i was the only failure that year, but i was a monumental one. ❜

❛ all recognized me as a catalyst, & a catalyst i became. ❜

❛ if there’s a fire & a meal there, i shan’t be leaving again. ❜

❛ everyone’s getting ready for the welcome feast tonight. ❜

❛ i lied to [ name / title ] today for you. ❜

❛ first time ever in my life i’ve done that. ❜

❛ i am not pleased that i will have to wait to see you. ❜

❛ those as will believe that shouldn’t be allowed to walk about on their own. ❜

❛ are you hurt ? did anyone rough you up ? ❜

❛ i should have known there would be those would blame all the stir on you. ❜

❛ they’re looking for you, high & low. ❜

❛ run away, but take my thanks with you. ❜

❛ you won’t talk to me like that, you wild brat ! ❜

❛ dare to run, & you’ll have it twice when i catch you. ❜

❛ they were going to kill you. ❜

❛ i should take more care not to anger them. ❜

❛ i don’t think i have ever been as brave since as i was then. ❜

❛ what’s to come of you ? what’s to come of us both ? ❜

❛ this thing you’re doing, it’s wrong. it’s not worthy of you. ❜

❛ who taught you to do this ? ❜

❛ no - one could look on you & think you had ever been a man. ❜

❛ is that what you want ? to take the blood of kings that’s in you, & drown it in the blood of the wild hunt ? ❜

❛ i’ll do it if it kills both of us. ❜

❛ never do that to me again. never. ❜

❛ let go of longing after [ them / me. ] it hurts less, that way. ❜

❛ i know he meant well, but i did not feel protected by him, but confined. ❜

❛ is it the nature of the world that all things seek a rhythm, & in that rhythm a sort of peace ? ❜

❛ i have come slowly to have a place in the scheme of things. ❜

❛ i swiftly learned where i was welcome, & where i was not. ❜

❛ [ you / they ] are capable of a pettiness & vindictiveness that i never encountered in others. ❜

❛ royalty has no leisure to ignore such opportunities, or to let them be created for others. ❜

❛ sneaking & thieving as always.❜

❛ are your ears stopped with wax ? do you hear nothing i say ? ❜

❛ quiet work, the diplomacy of the knife. ❜

❛ you think [ they / i ] will not remember your words when [ they are / i am ] grown ? ❜

❛ i’d be a fool to lie to you. ❜

❛ now you are mine. ❜

❛ i will keep you, & i will keep you well. ❜

❛ you have no reason to rise up against me, save the ones you invent in your head. ❜

❛ your ambitions have always exceeded your abilities. ❜

❛ one needn’t love in order to depend. ❜

❛ you had to put yourself before [ their / my ] eyes, did you ? had to call attention to yourself. ❜

❛ oh, so you can be swift spoken, when you’ve a mind ? ❜

❛ some nights, if things are a bit too quiet for you, you can find your way down here. ❜

❛ did you think i was not a [ man / woman ] of my word ? ❜

❛ people always see another’s good fortune as a slight to themselves. ❜

❛ stop being a nosy little gossip & attend to your chores. ❜

❛ i want a bit of time alone with you, before the others come. ❜

❛ a ruler must be ruler of all their people, for one can only rule what one knows. ❜

❛ as if any servant has any say over what their master does. ❜

❛ well, here is the proof that you haven’t been the [ man / woman ] you pretended to be. ❜

❛ you get the most peculiar notions. ❜

❛ it’s a common way for common folk, but not for royalty. or for anyone with a bit of pride. ❜

❛ it’s fine to fall in love, & no - one begrudges a young woman or man a kiss or two. ❜

❛ your pedigree is written all over you. ❜

❛ do you know who i am, or why you’re here ? ❜

❛ you speak to no - one of what we do here, nor of anything you learn. understand that ? ❜

❛ you’ve learned to guard your thoughts so well, you’re almost afraid to let yourself know what they are. ❜

❛ there you are, you rascal ! what mischief have you been up to now ? ❜

❛ sometimes i get tired of doing the hard things. ❜

❛ i don’t ask any more of you than i ask of myself. you know that’s true. ❜

❛ i learned to lie very well. i do not think it was taught to me accidentally. ❜

❛ can’t be too careful. can’t put your trust in just anyone. ❜

❛ i’ve got no heart for this. ❜

❛ if you wanted to test my temper, you’ve done it. ❜

❛ remember who i am to you ! ❜

❛ winter’s soon over, & i’ll be on my way again. ❜

❛ it’s a good life, walking free on the roads in summers. ❜

❛ what other prospects do you have ? ❜

❛ you’re a hostage to your own bloodline. ❜

❛ just what do you think you’re up to, sneaking away at this hour ? ❜

❛ you never did anything to make me think you cared about me. ❜

❛ if you ever make it so they don’t need you, they will kill you. ❜

❛ how can i protect you when you invite troubles on yourself ? ❜

❛ you’re not helping them by holding them that tight. ❜

❛ i had a dream so clear, like a vision, or a warning. ❜

❛ were you here because you didn’t trust me ? ❜

❛ time & tide wait for no man. ❜

❛ we have lived too soft, & the old gods punish us. ❜

❛ i didn’t mean to be seen like this. ❜

❛ hard times are here, [ name ], & i wonder if they will ever pass. ❜

❛ few enough of them can afford any romance in their lives, so they imagine all they can for their [ king / queen. ] ❜

❛ these hopes & devotions begin to seem pathetic, rather than noble. ❜

❛ we don’t have enough kinship left in us to be a band of anything. ❜

❛ will you think me cold when i say that we were relieved to hear that they had been killed ? ❜

❛ will it bother you if i stay ? ❜

❛ i think you have confused me with someone else. ❜

❛ when you cut pieces out of the truth to avoid looking like a fool, you end up sounding like a moron instead. let’s start again. ❜

❛ you have a way of presenting yourself to the very people you should most ardently avoid. ❜

❛ i didn’t know it was you. i’m surprised there was no gossip about your arrival. ❜

❛ personally, i think [ you / they ] regret much, & are trying to make up for lost time, something that never works. ❜

❛ for someone as perceptive as you are, you’ve got some very odd blindspots. ❜

❛ what do you know of [ them / me ] by reputation ? what do you suspect ? ❜

❛ you mock me, but from you, it seems a kindness. ❜

❛ [ you / they ] make me feel important, that [ you / they ] could choose me to talk to. ❜

❛ keep it private that i come & speak to you. some could take it amiss. ❜

❛ no man, not even a prince, merits such blind devotion. ❜

❛ it is a heady thing to be suddenly proclaimed the centre of someone’s world. ❜

❛ are you going to let them buy you with gifts ? ❜

❛ [ name ] keeps trying you out, hoping you’ll manifest some sudden talent, so that they can flout you about. ❜

❛ you know, [ name ] has become quite fond of you. ❜

❛ [ name ] makes it no secret that they have no fondness for you. ❜

❛ i’ve tried my best to get to you see it’s shameful & wrong, but i’ve never really felt that you agreed. ❜

❛ a few times, i’ve sensed, or suspected, that you were tinkering with things no good man touches. ❜

❛ you thought to deceive me. ❜

❛ you strove to usurp that which had been given to another. ❜

❛ no - one ever gained anything by running away. ❜

❛ i have never met anyone as immune to gossip as you seem to be. ❜

❛ they wouldn’t have the wit to understand you, or the heart to appreciate you. ❜

❛ a [ title’s ] hand cannot be wasted on something as foolish as their own choice. ❜

❛ go away & die, [ name ], or at least go away. ❜

❛ one can’t be expected to succeed at everything they try. ❜

❛ my worry is a burden i cannot put down. ❜

❛ when all roads lead to death, there is no point running down any of them. ❜

❛ it was said you were dead. ❜

❛ i came back for you, thinking you might need me. ❜

❛ go your own way, & be whatever you will. i’m done with you. ❜

❛ shall we try to put time behind us, & go on ? ❜

❛ damnation to you, must you always win ? ❜

❛ let us be but promised for a year or so. surely that will be enough for you. ❜

❛ the appetite for this is one that devours a person, not one that nourishes them. ❜

❛ what does the devouring of one person matter, if it saves a kingdom ? ❜

❛ i’d rather unman someone with a blade than turn the hounds of their own mind to nipping at their heels. ❜

❛ never pretend we are anything but what we are. ❜

❛ i have been waiting for you to come to apologize to me. ❜

❛ i’ve always thought that you thought well of me. ❜

❛ take this, & you may still live. ❜

❛ you & i, we have no time for distrust. there is much we must speak of. ❜

❛ too late to apologize. i have already forgiven you. ❜

❛ how you must have hated me. ❜

❛ all those years ? & you never learned better of me, never thought to yourself that i would not do such a thing ? ❜

❛ i have missed you, you know. missed you sorely, despite all our grievances. ❜

❛ i can never approve of, or ignore, what you do. never. ❜

❛ we are better parted. ❜

  i see a crossroads through the fog, & who always stands within it ? you. ❜

❛ had you some reason for telling me this story ? to impress me with your importance, perhaps ? ❜

❛ well. i will do this thing, then, but you must promise to take all the blame. ❜

❛ do not take it amiss, but i do not wish to seem to associate with you. ❜

❛ i fear you’ve made me a fool before [ name / title. ] ❜

❛ perhaps i should save time, & cut my own throat. ❜

❛ it seems we have been here before, have we not ? ❜

❛ poor thing, pledged to one you already hate. ❜

❛ shall we lose it all now, for the sake of haste ? ❜

❛ well, we shall see what mutual sympathy leads to. ❜

❛ [ name ], what are you ? what have you become ? ❜

❛ this was done by someone who believes themselves very clever, & believes others are very stupid. ❜

❛ why must i come back ? ❜

❛ if we fail, we fail, but at least we will have tried. ❜

❛ it seems as if the closer i walk to death, the funnier everything seems. ❜

❛ you speak as if they follow the same rules of common sense as the rest of us. ❜

❛ how many bodies do you think you can leave in your wake ? ❜

❛ behave as if you cannot be touched, & no - one will dare to touch you. ❜

❛ i’d be a fool not to take this opportunity to remove you. ❜

  i would not want you to come to me, thinking there is blood on my hands. ❜

❛ go to sleep, & stop dreaming so loudly. ❜

❛ to the end of my days, i will bear the scars [ you / they ] gave me. ❜

❛ people cannot grieve as dogs do, but we grieve for many years. ❜

❛ the memories come without warning, without mercy. ❜

❛ i can no longer recall what it was i set out to do. ❜

[vipier-a]

work has me cooked ( not in a bad way, I’m just tired bc I have a lot to do and I slept so bad ) but I’m off to therapy right after work in like an hour and then maybe I’ll do creative things when I get home

[vipier-a]

a liiiiittle earlier than expected but we found our new apartment 🥹 it’s gonna be a weird couple of months bc holidays aaaaaand we didn’t expect to move until spring but this is going to end up weirdly better for us financially and I’m honestly excited to be in a new clean space walking distance from my job! I’ll be back to write throughout the week, I’ve just been distracted.

[vipier-a]

@k4ssa

betraying someone who trusts them deeply is one of the sexiest things a character can do its unparalleled. cause either the relationship is irrevocably changed and said character is completely at fault (guilt complex, hot) or it isnt and then both sides have to deal with the fact that they care about each other enough to overlook the betrayal (unceasing devotion, also hot)

[vipier-a]

@k4ssa

[vipier-a]

first day of work went well yesterday but the … other circumstances have obviously dampened my enthusiasm by a lot. it would be a lie to say my american law degree doesn’t feel like a complete joke at this point. extending my love to everyone, and although my energy is low and my time a little more limited bc I am finally working again, please know I am happy to be an ear and a shoulder, because we all need to be leaning on each other in this time. 💕

[vipier-a]

was it worth it?

FOR MAYBE THE FIRST TIME IN HIS LIFE, TRISTAN DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO KEEP FIGHTING. all his life, since even before they met as children, he's had boundless energy to fight and claw and yowl his way through life, prepared to rip and tear anybody in order to survive. cassian has never been an exception to this rule. if anything, he's seen the worst of tristan, the most feral, the most vitriolic – and in exchange, tris always let @k4ssa back in the door, always left the light on for him, never stranded him in the cold, no matter what transpired between them, no matter what wounds of the heart he sustained throughout the twists and turns of their tumultuous relationship. tristan fights first, no matter what. tristan fights first, even when he is breaking.

he never stopped to think what would happen after he broke.

and there isn't a question that the scarif incident had irrevocably broken something inside of him. he still recalls physically feeling it shatter as he stood in the back of that briefing room on yavin iv after sprinting from the hangar the moment he realized something wasn't right. he still so clearly recalls the horrorstricken faces of the rebels around him illuminated by the images on the holoscreen, the twist and crack he felt in the cavity of his chest as he watched the planet disintegrate before his eyes, doused in that sickly green-cast holo glow. mon mothma had never liked him, but he could read the condolences even in her eyes when she met his gaze across the room – all the confirmation he'd needed to know for certain what he'd just witnessed. he can still taste the bile of his own violent grief in the back of his throat even now almost as strongly as he did in that moment when he'd turned to flee, unwilling to turn back, unable to turn back. every promise cass had ever tried to make to him, every whispered endearment, every moment his old flame had managed to shelve his fears and profess how he truly felt, curdled in dead space that day as tris let his freighter float far from yavin and curled in a corner, howling in wordless agony for hours until his vocal cords tore and he could no longer make a sound.

to this day, it still hasn't healed right. to this day, his voice remains slightly more hoarse than it ever was before.

all this time since discovering cassian is alive and tris still does not know how to explain it, how it could be at all possible to make cass understand something that he does not fully understand himself. the words always stick in his throat: that day tore something out of me and I don't know what it was but I know I can feel the hollow place where it used to be and some days it still feels like I could fall into that emptiness down and down and down and – yet even if he could say it, even if his mouth didn't become impossibly twisted around his own explanations, tristan knows it would do little good. what cassian wants to know is why he chose to set fire to the rebellion in retaliation and tris already knows he has no answer that could truly satisfy him. more than that, for as foul as tris can be, he refuses to reiterate any further his true intentions as he wielded his proverbial blade against the very cause cass fought for.

because the truth was, he'd expected to die. in fact, he'd wanted to die. in his rare moments of sleep throughout those blood-soaked weeks, he would dream of burning away in fire, of a rebellion sniper finally managing to deal him a mortal wound, of being dismantled by a cleverly planted grenade. his kassa would meet him then in an unnaturally luminescent forest, holding his kenari spear and wearing his war paint, his face bright and ten years younger as he teased tris for taking so long to come to him. when tristan woke from these dreams, alone in the hollow belly of his ship, clutching cass's jacket in his white-knuckled fingers, he would sob himself hoarse in agony, his anguish echoing though every hollow of that freighter where they'd once shared a word, a glance, a touch, a kiss. after his sorrow was spent, he'd try again, spilling all of his misplaced rage onto a battlefield of his own making, practically begging the rebels to put him out of his misery, having decided that those for whom cass had died could kill him too – but they would have no more of his work before they did and he would rob them of as much of his lover's as he could on his way out, too.

he supposes it isn't terribly surprising, in hindsight, that they hadn't even been able to get his death right.

cruel or not, even if he would have found that forest from his dreams empty, he still wishes they had. even with cassian beside him, he still wakes with that ache of disappointment in his chest, longing to fall back into a slumber from which he simply never wakes. he has been out of lockup for three weeks now, and although they both yet live against all odds, a chasm now yawns wide between him and cass, one that feels more and more impossible to cross by the day. he wishes he knew what the other man saw when he looked at him, but the mere thought of asking sends him cold with nausea. of one thing he feels certain: how could cassian possibly love him anymore, after what he'd done? and if cassian cannot love him anymore, then he becomes nothing but his burden. and if he is nothing but cassian's burden, then it would be better for the both of them if the rebellion had done its job properly and put him in the early grave he'd intended. tristan has thought about how to make it look like an accident on his own, to simultaneously remove the burdens of himself and of any resulting guilt from cass's shoulders. but cass would know, as he always knows, and so tris floats in his oblivion of uncertainty each day, pretending each step they take away from one another doesn't drive another nail into the coffin he wishes he occupied.

he's barely spoken a word since cass removed him from that cell and took him into his own protective custody. really, he's barely done anything but drift room to room in cass's ship, staring into nothing, distant, as though he were far away. no other rebels have approached him, either angry or afraid of what he's done, if not both, and even in the moments cassian himself lingers, he doesn't seem to know what to say to him. tristan has always considered himself a loner, but he has never in all his life felt quite this alone. finally, the one person in the galaxy who ever understood him, who ever embraced him, has seen him clearly, without rose-tinted glasses, and the wedge of that clarity has driven them so decisively apart that tris feels as though he stands alone on a vast gray plain, staring into a void of his own making. he supposes he always knew he would author his heartbreaks, that he would ultimately drive each speeder into the ditch. had he really begun to think cassian would be different?

and in that case, he thinks, cass asks the wrong question anyway. tris sits tucked in a corner of the cargo hold, out of the way and out from under the eyes of everyone, more spectre than man these days as much as he can manage. the captain had found him, as he's always been able to, and said nothing, but sat opposite him, back leaned up against a supply crate. the silence between them deafens and tris isn't sure how long it lasts before cass breaks it with that single question. " was it worth it? " tristan isn't sure why he finds the simplicity of it almost laughable. he asks it as though there's one simple answer tris can give. but any answer is as complex as the years long web they've woven between each other, as complicated as the yearning tris feels for him that's been carving his chest hollow for twenty years. all of that – all of it – for cassian to fly off to die with his rebel friends, leaving tristan with no choice of his own but to choke on his own grief alone. could there be a greater betrayal?

" does it matter? " his low rasp cuts through the dead air between them like a slow slice of a serrated bread knife. his gaze remains distantly fixed on some point on the far wall, as though imagining himself lightyears away from where they sit. any bitterness he feels doesn't quite make it into his empty tone ; especially against the walls of the hull, his voice sounds as hollow as an empty oil drum. he runs a hand through his unevenly cut hair, the exhaustion that passes over his features spontaneously aging him a decade. " would it change anything? would it make it better if it was? worse? what difference does it make? it's done. "

what do you want to hear? tris wants to ask him. that I wanted them to kill me? that I wish you'd done it when you found me to bring me in? that I wish I were dead even now? that every time you look at me like that, I feel like you can finally see me for what I've always been? that I wonder if you left me behind because you saw the rot in me even before and you couldn't stomach dying beside someone as ugly as I am, and I'm too much of a coward to ask? that I don't know if I can ever forgive you for abandoning me and yet I must because you're all I have in the universe and the thought of living without you makes me want to carve my own heart out of my chest and eat it from my hands? what do you want to hear, cassian? that I lost my mind? that I hated you and I hated them and I wanted the galaxy to suffer every ounce of agony I felt?

what do you want to hear, kassa?

for a while, he's silent, trapped in the poisonous confines of his own mind, even now feeling as though he becomes smaller by the moment, engulfed by the galaxy's enormity, by the enormity of cassian's passion, by the enormity of the nothing that is himself, until he's tumbling down that abyss between them, until he's swallowing back a familiar tightness in his throat despite the fact that his eyes remain dry. when he speaks again, he's so quiet it's almost a whisper, barely audible over the rumble of the engine. " don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to, cassian. just don't. "

[vipier-a]

∗ o3﹕ sender  places  their  feet / legs  in  receiver's  lap .

TRISTAN ALWAYS FINDS HIMSELF REMARKABLY DRAINED AFTER THE ( ALLEGEDLY ) NECESSARY EVIL OF HOSTING ANY GATHERING IN THEIR APARTMENTS. it wasn't something he'd ever done before his marriage – although whenever he pointed this out, his husband inevitably reminded him of his previously dismal social reputation, " from which I so valiantly rescued you, " @k4ssa would say, almost preening with delight at what he considers a great success. tristan patel, senator from corellia and rather infamously unpleasant contrarian, isn't sure that he'd agree. the one concession he could make, at least, is that he'd married into charm, which had rather been the point of the match. although he did not expect that any of his senatorial compatriots found him any more likable than before, cassian's proximity appears to make him more tolerable, at minimum.

the parties themselves have admittedly become more bearable since the two of them have grown ... closer, so to speak. it took a significant amount of time to push past their mutual stubbornness, particularly on tristan's end, but the acceptance of a mutual attraction and the wisdom of fostering an outlet for that attraction that would subsequently lend itself to helping present a more cohesive image to the world. at least, that's the explanation to which they'd mutually agreed. privately, tris wondered if either of them actually believed it. even now, it seems more likely to the senator that they simply needed an excuse to justify indulging a shared persistent curiosity. of course, he isn't naive enough to think that, outside their physical relationship, his engaging, attractive, charismatic husband has developed strong feelings for him any more than perhaps a fondness, or more likely a kind tolerance, alongside a physical attraction.

the fact such fondness resonates a lot like pity in his mind is something he knows he should not be able to so easily shrug off, ignore, treat as though it doesn't matter. is that truly how weak and lonely I have become, that I would allow myself to be pitied in exchange for being seen and touched? he asks himself as he falls back into the cushions of the plush sofa, gazing out the wide window at the expanse of the coruscant upper levels. he's not yet changed out of his fine clothes, but he's discarded his coat, loosened the beautiful silken cravat that cassian chose, and rolled the sleeves of his pressed shirt up to his elbows in aid of washing the dishes, a chore he's just completed. he feels his husband's presence before he sees him, like a halo of warm energy drifting through the confines of their shared space. cass is so beloved, so well regarded amongst the coruscanti elite that sometimes tris feels like little more than another admirer, despite the wedding band on his finger – yet, and perhaps it is delusional of him, he has convinced himself that he does not see what everybody else does, that the reasons for his adoration of his husband are different than everyone else's, that the warmth of cassian is more real when it is just his.

likely just another fantasy, he concedes, and a foolish one, yet even so, beyond reason, he allows himself to cling to it.

it certainly becomes easier to delude himself in moments like these, he thinks as cass reclines beside him on the sofa. out of the corner of his eye, he catches the other man's playful smirk as he slides his bare feet into tristan's lap. the corner of the senator's mouth twitches unwittingly. had he more energy, perhaps he'd feign refusal, incite his spouse into flirtatious theatrics before granting what he quite obviously wants. tonight, he's too exhausted to bother with games. he's loathe to admit, too, that he itches for touch of any sort himself, to pull him back into his body, to make him feel like himself again after an evening of social exertion that's left him sore with tension.

the days of clunky awkwardness between them when it came to distributing casual affection have blessedly passed by now. it feels natural, fluid, for tris to adjust, wedging himself in the corner of the sofa to face cassian halfway and provide himself a better angle at which to pick up and begin massaging one of his husband's feet. his thumbs press against the tender arch and drag upward, savoring the groan of satisfaction it elicits from cass and allowing himself a somewhat victorious grin despite himself. they continue on this way for some time, not a word exchanged between them, a comfortable silence broken only by the gentle whir of the air purifier and cass's occasional sighs of delight. as he too often does, dangerously, tris allows himself to imagine what it would be like if they'd married because they'd chosen each other, what it would be like to be chosen at all, to be loved.

" I don't know how you do it, " he says finally, shaking his head, meeting cass's eyes across the sofa as he lifts his foot to press a lingering kiss to his ankle before beginning on the other. " I'm always ready to retreat twenty minutes after everybody arrives even on a good day. you glide through these damn parties without ever dropping that damned charming smile. you have the patience of a saint. " his mouth twitches again and he rolls his eyes, preemptively and dryly adding, " I know, I know, you're married to me, of course you do. but it must tire you. " he pauses then, still massaging yet hesitating on his words, as if he's not quite sure how to express what lingers on the tip of his tongue. " I'm ... not sure I've ever thanked you. for doing all this. doing what I ... can't. I know I wasn't always – " he falters, swallowing back his uncertainty, the prickle of embarrassment at his moment of both clarity and odd vulnerability. the heat of a flush creeps up his neck, a sensation he pointedly ignores. " I haven't always given you the credit you deserved. what you do for me ... it ... means everything. "

[vipier-a]

tentative plotting call !! open to new and old followers alike, for new plots and/or to discuss plots already established. just kinda looking to reconnect with my dash and mutuals a bit, and stir up some hype!

[vipier-a]

now i know what you are .

THREE DAYS WITH THE PRIESTESS UPON HIS SHIP AND STILL TRISTAN MOVES AROUND HER LIKE A CORNERED ANIMAL. he keeps each movement measured, ensuring @azarathian remains within his field of vision, as if to lose sight of her for a moment would be to sign his own death warrant. every muscle remains coiled as if prepared to strike if she wanders too close, as if ready to sink his venomous teeth into her flesh at a moment's notice. it has not come to that, and if he's honest with himself, tristan knows it's for the best that way. all his life, he has embraced the security that accompanies being the most dangerous thing in any room. but this woman possesses an enormous power he cannot even begin to fathom, one that brought him to heel so swiftly that it still nauseates him to linger upon. never has he truly experienced the cold, sickening sensation of primal fear until now, and to tristan, it feels as though the universe has turned on its head.

it's why he flinches when she addresses him, although he does not tear his eyes from the vast expanse of space stretching before him through the viewfinder from his perch in the pilot's chair. his shoulders stiffen and he subtly tests his toes against the durasteel floor, in case he feels the need to flee. she does not hunt him, and yet somehow, he still feels like prey. the sheer helplessness of it makes his skin crawl, and all at once, he wishes he could peel it off like another layer of clothing. the fact that she speaks gently, her tone even, kind, spurs an impulse to lash out which he must actively restrain.

" you do not know anything about me, " he responds in a low snarl, his knuckles white against his ship's controls. the only thing that makes him feel more helpless than the knowledge of how easily she could subdue him compared to others is the thought that he might share her unnerving gift. it is a theory he cannot bear to fathom. " not what I am. not what I can do. do you think I am so easily fooled, witch? do you have any idea how fastidiously I was engineered? if that was something I could do, I would damn well know it. " if only the queasy shift in his gut shared the same confidence as his words.

[vipier-a]

find your way back yourself .

EVER THE IMPULSE TO PROVOKE HIS FELLOW VIPER RELENTLESSLY GNAWS AT THE BACK OF TRISTAN'S RECKLESS MIND. perhaps @daylighter expresses his impetuousness more frequently, at least to his companion, but in truth, they are quite evenly matched in the desire to whet their fangs upon the first available jagged words when seized by annoyance or anger or frustration. tristan feels those familiar tendrils of simmering fury creeping from deep in his gut, setting aglow the cavity of his chest, threatening that composure he so often keeps so well. the bond of their bargain, that chosen curse that locks their fates together in perpetuity, makes it difficult in such moments to decipher what of the emotion is his own, or if some of kenneth's anger has spilled into him like a cup overflowing. it matters little. the result is his own sharp yearning to bite back.

his teeth grind tightly enough to force an ache into his jaw as his eyes remain unblinkingly fixed on his companion. behind kenneth, the mountainside glows and distorts, warping and pulling the very threads of reality with a portal of the other witcher's making. a snarl builds in his throat that he only barely manages to swallow back. so often do they tear pieces of one another this way, such that it would not feel right not to. they argue, brawl, make threats and follow through upon them regularly enough that the practice becomes almost a comfort. only now does tristan truly feel alarm on the heels of one. his own paltry excuse for magic skill could not save him, were that portal to close. and while kenneth cannot rightly allow him to perish, lest the chronicle of his own life snap shut, too, the idea of being trapped upon unforgiving and unfamiliar land, clawing for survival until the seidhe decides his penance paid, away from the fortress and away from him ... the concept curdles tristan's blood like spoiled milk, sour and sickening.

yet to admit concern – let alone distress – in any instance would practically be akin to blaspheming. he is no more victim nor villain than kenneth himself. I have my limits, he tells himself, but where precisely they are, he cannot rightly say. would this be the line in the sand, for me, or would I follow through? a poisoned dependence, one he cannot abide and yet would never trade away. a treacherous nexus, a dysfunction he drinks of as eagerly as sweet nectar. how closely can we hold one another to the blade? how he can think such things about the one man he could never truly harm only emphasizes that contradictory line he walks, thin and delicate as a tightrope.

" I would never forgive you stranding me here, " the snake and his forked tongue lie willfully through his teeth, in a tone as frigid as skelligen frost. he tilts his chin upward, holding his stubborn head high, his arms crossing over his chest. even now, he knows such a transgression would be forgotten mere days after returning to the den, yet to confess such a thing is poison. " but I'm sure you can stomach that. fine, then, kenneth, if that is how you would have it, go! convince yourself I deserve it. and when the den is too empty and you find yourself lonely, best hope you can find me again in these wastes. "