#vielynne

[synne-spades]

I’ll Be Your Judas

Perhaps this was the dark fairy tale ending she’d asked for. Each twisted hallway leading to another horror, another calamitous self-discovery of how hollow she’d really become - perhaps had always been. This was what her nightmares had been made of, but here there was no waking up back into reality, no hands to brush away her tears and tell her it had all just been a bad dream. The voices in her head spoke even when she was awake, told her what was demanded of her. Did they all know how close to the edge they tread? How one misstep, one slip would have them careening into a darkness that none would ever claw their way back out of?

As she paced closer to that sleeping form her hand twitched towards the dagger at her side. She could make it painless. No suffering, no panic, just a swift end that would deliver her loved one into the peaceful realm of blessed darkness. But the Relic was selfish - she was wholly selfish and vicious and angry. To be parted from many she loved was a burden she had learned to bear, a suffering born out of silence and necessity. But this soul was one she could not be without. Not in any life. And she was afraid if she did nothing, that madness would descend upon them anyway and they would be lost to her. She could not bear that weight at all.

She alighted carefully on the edge of the mattress next to the frozen form. Reaching a hand out, she brushed her fingertips gently over the crystallized Aether that entombed the other, the encasement melting at the Relic's delicate touch. The thread that ran from her soul to the other’s was a very powerful tool - a very strange weapon. And Synne knew a thing or two about severing strings. It would send out ripples, surely, but the one who'd spun them - sung them, really - into being would not make it here in time to save her. To save either of them from what was about to be done.

Waves of hair framed a peaceful visage, flowers strewn throughout the dark strands like small stars. Gods, how she had loved this creature, this blessing that had found her the moment she’d given up hope. These arms had held her tight, these hands had brushed away her tears and restored her courage - her faith in humanity. She felt empty of these things now, but the need for the other remained and she could not deny the call. This sacrifice would be an ending for her as well, a breaking that she knew she would never come back from. 

“I hope you know that I have dreamed of you in colors that do not exist,” she murmured in a smokey, hushed tone, fingers trailing over the curves of that perfect face. There would never come a time she did not love every mark, every scar that was present. The knife remained at her side as both hands slid up the elegant column of that neck, fingers sinking into chocolate strands as she brought her lips closer to the others own.

“And I’m sorry - I’m so sorry for what I must do.” Fingers brushed down the other’s jaw line as her breathing faltered and hitched. This was a sacrifice that did not end in death, but betrayal; a scar that she would wear on her soul until the day she died. Before she could wake the sleeping beauty back up into a realm of nightmares, she confessed her sins against the curve of the Seer’s lips.

“I love you, Vielynne Ashdale. You always were my perfect eclipse.”

Mentions:

@the-faceless-ffxiv

@mischiefs-mistress

@enambris

[synne-spades]

A Letter to the Pack

{Vibes}

I can still remember what it felt like to be free. To wake up in the morning excited about what the day would bring and whether it brought joy or strife, I knew that at the end of it I would lay my head down and still have people who loved me. Who were proud of me. Despite it all, that was what kept me going. If this is the last scrap of myself that I am able to identify, I wish to do so fully while I am still capable. I'll write my truths out for you; for all of you that I have loved with my soul of ash and wildfire. I am a villain. I am a murderer. I am a liar. I am a thief. I know all these things about myself and have never once blanched at their reality - I never apologized for what I'd become in order to survive in this world. I was given an empire, a throne and I reveled in being needed. Wanted. Worshiped. But when I met you, things changed. I didn't want you to know what sins my hands had committed - I didn't want you to look at me like I was anything other than someone who adored you, who would tear down the world itself to bring you home safely. I didn't want you to see a monster. You never did. None of you ever did and I will be grateful to you for that miraculous gift until time has lost its meaning. You stayed with me. We stayed with each other because we wanted to. No one forced us together and we looked at our crumbled lives shocked to see how easily they fit in with one another, how the other broken pieces filled in holes we had long ago learned to survive with. You made me feel alive for the first time in my entire life. My Pack. My family. That's what you became and remained. You gave me a reason to be better, to challenge myself every day, to fight for the opportunity to stand at your sides and to love you. You gave me so many reasons to love you. I fear that I am slipping and as much as I have cursed and clawed for a way out of this landslide, I can't deny it any longer; I am losing this war inside my head. More and more each day I feel a cruel carelessness growing within and there is going to come a day I can't fight it anymore.  I'm so tired. Please believe me when I say I tried, that I gave it my all and that there wasn't an ounce of strength I did not put into my efforts. This is not something that can be fixed with words or encouragement, this is not a disease or a sickness. This is something sewn into the fabric of my being and I can do nothing against it. It is clear to me where my path leads now and I wish that you could come with me - that we could be together again - but this is a hell I wouldn't wish on any of you.  I'm sorry that I had to break trust, to break hearts, but I would not see any of you like this and I know that seeing me... seeing me would make it all the more difficult to bear what is to come. The voices grow quieter when I think of you, when I write to you, so I shall try to do that until the end, so that you know none of you ever left my mind. I'll carry you within, your memories splayed throughout the cracks of everything I've become so that when I meet my fate, you’ll still be with me. The Nightmare cannot take from me that which it did not create. And you? You were my dreams given life. All My Love, Sunny Please don’t come for me. Even if you find me - you won’t find me.

@valanthius-xiv @mischiefs-mistress @charm-in-spades 

[synne-spades]

To Hold a Witch

It was careless of them, really. The guards hadn’t gagged her or bound the Witch’s hands in any way. They’d simply shoved her into a temporary containment cell off to the side of the encampment and locked the doors behind themselves, completely unaware of what exactly they’d let into their camp..

The air here smelled strange, but that was to be expected with so much corruption and impurity on the wind. It screamed of imbalance and an unnaturalness that made the Witch’s skin crawl. Whatever came after this place was not somewhere she wished to visit, nor was this current location somewhere she choose to remain. So, she decided it was time to go.

“I’ll be leaving now,” she announced in a calm tone, her velvety voice echoing against the slitted metal walls and sounding back. The guards outside just chuckled and shook their heads, one turning to survey the Weaver.

“Y’think you’re going somewhere, sweetheart?” He let out a mocking laugh as he stepped up to the cell. “You have the wrong idea about what exactly is going on here if y’think you can jus’ walk out. Maybe y’need to learn that lesson now so I don’t have a time gettin’ you back. I hate listening to whining and I hate repeatin’ myself.” A cruel smile touched the young man’s lips and Treva tasted the lie. He would very much like to hurt her over and over again for the smallest offense. It was how he felt powerful in his position - being cruel was the only thing he was really good at. The promise of violence was evident in his muddy brown eyes as the man reached for the keys to the cell and turned it in the lock.

Unknowingly, he had just signed his own death warrant: his and the rest of his men’s. It wasn’t the guard’s fault that the man who’d taken the Weaver from her wood hadn’t cared enough to see her subdued. It wasn’t her fault that Wilhelm was focused on other things, and it certainly wasn’t Wilhelm’s fault that he hadn’t known just quite whom he had possessed for a short time.

Funny how things worked out.

As the guard stepped across the threshold, he found his muscles locking up tightly in protest of what... he couldn’t rightly identify, but it felt as if his very veins had turned to ice. The man couldn't move at all a few heartbeats later and that realization struck him a moment before the next, considerably more terrifying one did - the woman in the cell was smiling, showing pointed canine teeth in a feral smile. “Perhaps you did not hear me the first time, young man, so let me be very clear - I do hate to repeat myself -” The guard let out a sudden shriek as a resounding ‘snap’ echoed into the falling dusk, all of the fingers in his left hand now bent in the wrong direction. Treva’s smile grew.

“I’ll. Be. Leaving. Now. But since you were so kind as to show me your Truth, allow me to do the same.”  Another ‘crack’ sounded as the bones in his forearm shattered, seemingly under considerable weight or pressure. The soldier was crying in agony when the Weaver placed her fingers gently underneath his chin and tilted it upwards. The man fell utterly silent as his eyes rolled back in his head and whatever had held his body immobile released its hold. A lifeless husk slumped onto the floor of the cage as the Witch stepped out into the night.

The other soldier hadn’t moved an inch since his counterpart had entered the cell, his own muscles locked up just as tight as Treva approached him from behind. “I wove a shield of air around us before your friend opened the door - the same air that delivered you both into your stasis. You are experiencing paralysis brought on by a potent neurotoxin that operates by over stimulating your central nervous system. You will not be able to move unless I recall it....” She paused to drape her arm over his left shoulder, a hand coming to rest over his heart in an eerily possessive fashion, feeling it flutter against his rib-cage with unhinged fear. The Witch put her lips to the guard’s ear, standing on tiptoes to deliver her final message. “But you and I both know that is not going to happen. You can scream if that will make you feel better.”

With two bodies down and a couple dozen to go, Treva paused near the outskirts of the camp and waited. The Seer should be arriving at any moment… When Vielynne stepped through the tear in the world and appeared at the Wood Witch’s side, no words needed to be exchanged.They Saw one another, recognized them for what they were and acknowledged the goal ahead without uttering a syllable. The only words that left Treva’s mouth before they began were: "Make them bleed, girl.” 

Mentions: @mischiefs-mistress

[synne-spades]

“The great joy and honor of my life has been to know you. To call you my family. And I am grateful - more than I can possibly say - that I was given this time with you all.”

-Sarah J. Maas

@mischiefs-mistress [You roont me.]

[synne-spades]

Asking for a friend, but what if say Vielynne did not make it and Synne could no longer feel her through the lifestream? How would Synne feel about her thread sister's sacrifice if Rev, hypothetically, survived and Vielynne didn't?

If Vie didn’t make it back, Synne would be broken. It wouldn’tbe the first time she’s lost someone she truly loves, but it’s a pattern she ismore than happy to avoid at all costs. Now, if she understood the reasoning’sbehind it – i.e. so that Revarik could return to the land of the living – she wouldbe a little less manic about the situation (after all, she’d give her life in aheartbeat for the man she loves). Vie told Sunny when she left to watch over their family –Revarik included - and to continue to love and protect them. Sunny will do thishappily until her very last breath leaves her lungs, but losing the sister she’dnever had after only having had Vie in her life for a short amount of timewould be catastrophic. Would she make it through? Yes. Would she be happy aboutit? Probably not.

Besides, all magic has a price and there’s pretty much nonethat she wouldn’t pay to have her family hale and whole…

You’re all awful and I love you dearly. <3@valanthius-xiv@mischiefs-mistress@charm-in-spades

[synne-spades]

We were lovers in a past life

I can see it in your green eyes Maybe you were one of my wives In a long lost tribe There’s just somethin' about you I know Started centuries ago though You see your kiss is like a lost ghost Only I would know But I, I keep on falling for you Time after time

I’ll make you mine

Time after time. @valanthius-xiv [From Eorzea with love ~ @mischiefs-mistress]

[synne-spades]

Dust to Dust

Custom Prompt: Vielynne and Synne have come across the bodies of both Caelric and Revarik laying in the sands of the Thanalan heat. The land is battle scarred and thick with aetheric anomalies that suggest that the two had an unsettled conflict that became a war between two friends. Yet, the hand of each lay grasping the other as if to say their final farewell in an apology. How does Synne handle the scene before her?

The sweltering heat of the desert was beginning to fade as evening wore into dusk. Synne and Vielynne had been searching for the boys for three days now and it seemed they were getting closer. The landscape around them had changed from hills of rolling gold to charred pits of black glass and pillars of cooled molten sand that rose up like tendrils of an angry, ancient god. Everywhere there were tell tale signs that something catastrophic had happened here, forces had been at play that were beyond those of simple nature. This was the work of mortals with rage flowing through their veins and the power to harness that anger into a dangerous weapon. This was a disaster area.

A cold feeling spread throughout Synne’s chest the further they walked, the more detailed the destruction became. She was afraid there might not be anything to find of the two men. Perhaps their feud had obliterated both from the face of this world. The very thought made her feel ill and she reached out blindly to grasp Vie’s hand in her own tightly. Though the two had only been friends a short while, the strings that bound them were many and ran quite deep. The Seer was the missing link between her and Caelric as well as Revarik and she had silently thanked the gods the day the woman had opened her door to the broken blonde. They had a strange harmony between them that Synne found reassuring as well as sorely missed, as if she’d been searching for her thread sister all her life. If there was anyone she’d have at her side for what came next, it was Vielynne.

An indentation in the earth was where they found their mates, hands clasped together in what appeared to be forgiveness. Whatever rage had played out, brotherhood had been the most important thing in their final breaths. While it soothed her heart to know they’d found each other, that neither of them had departed alone, Synne’s soul shattered at the sight. Her knees wanted to give out but she remained standing, silver rimming her eyes as she looked towards Vie. Words wouldn’t come, the agony clawing its way through her chest making it difficult to breathe, let alone speak. So instead the Little Bird stood there and stared at the motionless body that had once housed the love of her life.

“We could bring them back,” she finally murmured, voice breaking at the final word. It was quite possible - the two women possessed such talents - but it came with a price. Sunny looked up at her friend and sister, a sad smile forming at the corners of her mouth. They both knew what that price would be, but was it truly worth it if they’d not live to see their men’s smiles again? Was it even what they would want?

Synne knew the answer to that and she could almost see the livid expressions both her love and the Lion would be wearing. For Sunny and Vie to cease to exist in order to restore breath to their lungs would have Rev and Ric in the same miserable position.

It was like a veil fell over them as they stood there, the air growing thick as it wrapped around the four. “Or we could just lay down next to them, hold their hands and I’ll… I’ll send us off to sleep. We can dream it all up again, find each other and stick together.”

Vielynne stilled as the suggestion was made, eyes still set on the brother’s she’d loved dearly. Fate had been cruel in showing her everything but this, but she could be cruel to it in turn. The future shifted in an instant to something clear and within her control: an ending, and with it, peace.

“It’s time.” She agreed, and when violet eyes slid to Synne they were brimmed with tears offset by her well worn smile. She moved first, the mantle of acceptance deceptively light as she knelt between the bodies of friend and lover. Her hands settled over their clasped ones momentarily, ink bleeding together as a tear splashed against the canvas, followed by the feather-light touch of her lips in silent farewell. “See you soon.”

The Seer stepped aside to allow Synne her own goodbyes before she stretched out next to her. Without looking her fingers fitted with those of her living companion, head tucked neatly beneath the chin of the man once known as the White Lion as her lips found their favorite nook. Arm was pulled around herself in a recreation of a position they often found in sleep. Perhaps even in death, he could lend her his strength.

Synne moved to kneel between Ric and Rev, pressing a kiss to each forefinger before gently brushing them across their foreheads, making certain they were both given a parting token of her lasting affection and respect. The blonde then lay herself next to Ric, head resting atop his outstretched arm, making certain he was still grasping the Praefectus’ hand. Her cheek pressed to his chest and while there was no life there, her memory delivered her what she wanted to hear - a beautiful, strong heartbeat. That was the last song she wanted to hear.

The girl stretched a hand out behind herself, positioned close enough that Vie could easily lace her fingers with Synne’s. A gentle sigh escaped Sunny’s lips and the wind around them changed again, carrying the sweet fragrance of flowers and midnight. It was a kind poison, one that slipped into lungs unnoticed, slowly shutting down a body from within. There was no pain, no struggle and it would feel much like falling asleep.

As her eyes grew heavy and her breathing slowed, Sunny stared up at the faded violet atmosphere above. Fireflies flitted in and out of her vision, circling over their heads like shooting stars.

“Next time I’ll find you quicker,” she promised all three of them, the living and the dead. A final kiss was pressed to the Coyote’s cold chest, just above his heart before her eyelids grew too heavy to remain open. The pumping of blood was slow, her heart graciously giving in to the pull of the poison. Synne Tove’s final thoughts before the darkness claimed her was of forest hued eyes, crooked smiles and boys with broken souls whom she had loved all too much.

Next time we’ll get it right.

-----------------------------------------

Mentions:

@charm-in-spades

@valanthius-xiv​

@mischiefs-mistress​

[valanthius-xiv]

Fate and Fortune

      Some individuals knew it wasn't just about coincidence. They created the moments and then offered the opportunity on a silver platter. This particular breed of woman knew exactly when and where to be to get her point across. Hence, why her eyes were not upon herself, but rather onto the recipient of the photography. He was no stranger to that look, but tempting Lions was a dangerous game.

       The longer his eye lingered upon the imagery the deeper that internal hunger grew. It wasn't a growl for food, but something much darker and more intense. Perhaps a craving. A subtle click of his tongue as he examined each detail from how her pants clung to her backside to the manner of which she stared back at him. She knew he'd find it and even more so what she was looking to draw from it.

      Well played, Reader. Well played.

@mischiefs-mistress