#tw; self blame

[symphonicsoul]

Morality Meme || Accepting

anon asked:

Something he hasn't been asked before (as much): 💋: How easily is he tempted? (Absolutely does not have to be in *that* context. Think material gain, favors, etc)

Buckle up, this is gunna be long and a RIDE.

The trick is when it comes to Kumo on the topic of "tempted" (and not that as you said) is there are two sides to this ->

The idea of tempting or the idea of giving into temptation.

Considering the original question doesn't specify which side we're going to, we're going to go with temptations.

And there are a lot of them and if you want to view things like candy, sugar, indulgences, etc - Kumo gives in often and easily.

The thing about it is though, is, that it's entirely riding on an outsider's perspective of Kumo's actions and if someone like, say Kaze, were to just let Kumo be and react to situations for a week however he so pleases and then judged him on how he reacted over that week -> through an outsider's lens it would appear that Kumo caves to temptations at nearly every turn.

But we're not going from an outsider's perspective. We're going from Kumo's perspective and that is an entirely different situation. This is also why the boys clash so often because the outsider's perspective simply doesn't know / understand why Kumo is doing what he's doing.

In Kumo's mind, he almost never caves to temptations and when you look at the world from his eyes - he's right.

It's taken over two years - real time - for Kumo to dance in front of Kaze (dance in general) totally carefree and to just move, DESPITE the fact, his body tingles and his skin prickles whenever he hears the sound of any form of tune. Kumo hears sound with his entire body but he hasn't combusted yet with his overwhelming full body urge to just move. And when he wanted to sing, he removed himself from what he assumed was Kaze's earshot because he did not want to nor did he feel comfortable doing so in front of the man. He made himself smaller instead of just caving to the urge and singing regardless of whether or not anyone could hear him.

He resists the urge to just flip himself upside down more often than not because he knows it annoys his Other to no end when he does so and he hasn't taken to the sky to just go exist inside a cloud for thirty minutes because of a previous threat to shoot him down if he flew ahead.

Kumo needs to be in the air to breathe properly but yet he has remained mostly grounded due to his extreme fear of angering Kaze. And I do mean extreme.

In Kumo's mind, he doesn't act outside of the boundaries that have been set for him, to the point of even denying his own needs to an extent, if only to keep the peace.

An Outsider's perspective would lead them to tell you that Kumo is a spoiled child that gets whatever he wants, whines and cries to achieve that and lives of sugar and candy that sleeps all the time.

Kumo's perspective would tell you, he is a terrified abuse survivor who is slowly dying due to a curse that is killing him little bits at a time so he sleeps as much as possible because he's running out of energy, who only eats what sugar they can afford and deemed acceptable despite needing it to literally function, drinks half the water he needs because of lack of storage issues, and only cries when his emotions become too much and he can no longer control them. The emotions only come out when the bottle holding them cracks.

An Outsider's perspective would tell you "Spoiled Royal."

And Kumo would even resist the temptation then to tell that person to go fuck themselves because spoiled is the last thing he's ever been. Those two words rub him raw enough to make him bleed but he won't say that either because causing confrontation is improper and he has an aversion to fighting and yelling so he avoids them at all costs.

How often and easily does Kumo give into temptation? He doesn't.

And I say this for a multitude of reasons but mostly that when Kumo "gives into temptation" for something, he's not giving in at all actually. He's been given permission to do something, so he is acting on that permission.

As a prime example, in Kumo's mind, his relationship to Kaze (not with. TO) functions solely around the sentence "I obey you." Because that is how he feels about that man at its root core. He loves him. He cares about him and one might think that his vision is being deluded by his feelings towards Rorahm, but Kumo told himself to come to terms with the fact that Rorahm was dead many months ago.

He no longer sees Kaze as that man. He sees the essence of Rorahm the person as dead but the name Rorahm remains as simply a name and that is why Pilvi and Seejvariil will still use it. But at the core of it, that's where Kumo's mind sets "I obey you." so he would never dare defy someone like Kaze - someone he holds extreme fear in even if "giving into temptation" is doing something is literally a basic need for his survival.

And he's been like this his entire life so whether Kaze is aware of it or not, Kumo was built with a foundation that tells his mind to obey before all else and that includes giving into any form of temptation that could be for his own benefit. Even at seven, Kumo would ask his teachers "Could we maybe color?" instead of just simply coloring as a seven year old should.

Even as a child, he was asking for permission before he did something and that includes: coloring, singing, dancing, drawing, painting, napping, cuddling, eating his favorite foods or really anything at all.

Kumo doesn't give into temptation because he defaults to permission before all else. Even in a relationship type context, Kumo didn't even haul off and kiss Kain. His brain absolutely thought 'I would like to kiss him' but instead of just doing so - Kumo proceeded to ask Kain "Would it perhaps be acceptable if I kissed you?"

Kumo is obsessed with the concept of consent and he means that by way of his own AND everyone else's. He does not just do things to do them. He will check to make sure he's not inconveniencing anyone by doing something. Even if that thing is a nap. He will tell someone he is going to take a nap before he does so. He will also tell that person they can wake him for any reason if they require him even if sleep for him right now is literally life saving.

Kumo's body has become a shattered broken mess of spreading soul scars because he won't fall to temptations of any kind for any reason. He will not prioritize himself for anything and his childhood had a lot to do with it. His current day issues also are what's causing this because having events like:

the 12 years of torture and abuse of all kinds in Gaudium,

Kaze's use of aggressive force, degrading language and dismissive attitude (using his body to intimidate, putting Orthrus flush to his neck to intimidate, back handing him with Orthrus for breaking eye contact, " you foolish boy"/ "spoiled royal" / "spoiled brat", calling him a liar when kumo said he loved him, telling kumo he needed to throw away his love because he was a sword, and an all around lack of general care or concern for Kumo's well being),

and the recent recapture by Anarchy

has only worked to solidify his belief that he needs to inconvenience those around him as little possible and that his existence and needs are things that can inconvenience others.

He doesn't function for material gain either. Ever. He didn't haul off and just go buy the Makea Meloni. No, he begged Kaze for it. (He asked for permission) Even with his goals to take the throne and become King of Wonderland aren't for material gain. He's literally doing this to heal the pain and turmoil in Wonderland to starve out Chaos - therefore weakening their enemy so they can stand in the face of it without causing so much death and destruction.

He's literally aiming for that seat, not for material gain or power. He's a Misterican Royal - they serve their people, not the other way around - so he's doing it to enlist himself into service of the people of Wonderland and therefore the Universe and he won't just declare himself King, even though the seat is currently empty. He is working to get Wonderland's approval before he does so.

Because at the end of everything, no matter what the situation is - Kumo operations on permission before all else.

[symphonicsoul]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ He knew and he didn't know how he was supposed to ignore it. Every day the cracks got wider. Every day the fault lines continued to crawl forward on his chest and slither down his legs like an infection he had no way of ever finding the cure for. It's a cruel sick reality that he's had to come to face each and every time he dares to stand in front of a mirror, disrobed before a bath or catching the sight of his own reflection as he looks just over his shoulder while he changes into his night clothes.

He knows. He knows. He's known.

How do you ignore such a thing as your death stretching out and cracking over your skin? His heart is as shattered as his soul is but hearing it out loud is an all new sense of plunging into an unending purgatory where he's caught between this twisted space between life and death. Not quite dead yet but not quite living anymore either.

He couldn't call himself a ghost anymore even if the only thing his mouth ever did was speak from the graveyard of a lost civilization. It's hard to hear it. It's hard to hear that's no hope for him even if hope was that fickle little thing he only ever dared to pick up from time to time. Hope was a rose he should know better than to touch because while it looks beautiful from afar it pricks him every time.

It pricks him and the blood flows. It pricks him and the tears stream leaving the prince only able to wrap his arms around himself as he crashes to the ground in a weeping mess of shattering stability. He can't keep it up much longer. He doesn't know how much he can keep on the mask of his sanity before he shatters before them all and reveals the fragmented monster that rests just below the surface.

They - they were the only family he had left and he didn't need them to see their prince - their King as such a discomposed wretch as this. He knows Revon will hear the crying in the hallway and he doesn't know how to halt his tears before the man returns to his post. He'd sent him away for only a moment. He'd sent him away to check on the others while he took a moment to change in his nightgown before he would attempt to find rest this evening but seeing the mess that was his body had that little beast's voice echoing in his mind again.

"There's no saving you." He's said as he felt that phantom touch of the poisonous pink python that lives in his mind. Forever haunting his every move. "There's no saving you precious. My beautiful Little Cloud, this is your fault for defying me. Look at what you've done to yourself."

And he couldn't deny it. He couldn't deny that the beast was right. It was his fault for rebelling. His was his fault for daring to snap back at the hand that kept him safe all these years since he crash landed in this world. If you could call that safe. Was it? No. He knew that tortuous environment was anything but -but it was - all he knew since he landed here and if he had just kept his head down and obeyed then -

-then he wouldn't be dying like this. A dying immortal. What a joke!

Even if that little beast is half way on the other side of Wonderland he can see feel hands ghosting over his back as he holds his nightgown close to his chest unable to even get the damned thing on to cover his bear chest. He's a shattering mess and - and - and -

"You know this is all your fault, don't you Little Cloud? I warned you didn't I? I told you what would happen if you disobeyed me again, didn't I, my pet?"

And it's all he can do to stare back at the wretched picture of himself reflecting in the mirror. The warzone walking. Look at the mess he'd turned himself into and his lips finally part as the cries slow and tears silently stream over his face.

"Yes Master. "

“There’s no saving you.” 

As his heart shattered so did the strength in his legs sending him collapsing to the ground. Somehow he had known what their answer was going to be and yet he still found himself screaming in anguish.

[parasolladyansy]

Hero of Bombs - Close Call Pt.1

Remember that time ages ago when I said Link starts to get very protective of Ingo after a “close call”?

This is what happened: a Gloom Hand caught him by surprise, & almost took out all Ingo’s hearts before Link could make it let him go (thank Hylia for Sun Pumpkins ☀️)

Also, yeah: I gave Ingo 6 hearts (& 1 full wheel of stamina). Humans in the Pokémon world seem much sturdier than us, going by Legends Arceus.

[deadbeatfox]

Please, tell me how can I stop doing everything wrong.

How can I stop being in survival mode and feeling like everyone is against me?

[symphonicsoul]

·:¨༺ ✩★✩ ༻¨:·. "You didn't do anything wrong Rakkauslaulu. It was my dumbass that tore the sugar line and got out of bed. You didn't make me do that."

Revon is sighing on the other side of the room even as the man of orange rais s his hand to stroke softly through a river of blue.

"Rakastan Sinua, Aqua." He continues and the knights walks across the room to them both with sympathy in his eyes.

"Minäkin rakastan sinua, Aqua. I'll be back. Watch Sinfonia and Pilvi for me. I'll go get your dragon and some of your nest. "

He's shuffling through drawers in the room until he finds a roll of uncut bandage and is picking it up to return to the pair of them before he leaves.

"Give me your arm, Sinfonia."

And the musician raises it so the knight and wrap the bleeding wound the best he can, tearing off that section of bandage and setting the roll on the nightstand by the bed.

"There so it should keep the bleeding at bay for the most part. Sielu can you put some pressure on his arm until Cid gets here for me please? I'll be back."

The smile in his eyes matches the one on his lips. No anger even hinted at within the space of his words.

He's shifting to make his way out of the room and down the hall where the mechanic is, raising a hand to knock on the doorframe before he enters.

"Com-e i-n? Revon, was it? Is everything okay?"

"Sinfonia was out of bed with a frantic Sielu, and he tore the sugar line out to do it. Can I bother you to put it back in?"

The mechanic lets out a heavy sounding groan as indigo rolls for a second and he rises from his seat.

"Yeah, I got it. No problem. Is Sielu okay?"

"Not sure. He was blaming the whole thing on himself, but Sinfonia said he didn't do anything and I believe him honestly."

"Well Sielu came from a nasty situation. I'll talk to him and get Sinfonia back together. Did you look at it? Is it bad?"

"No, but I did see a pretty good stream of blood so I bandaged it up before I got you."

"Okay. Thank you, Revon. I'll handle it."

The blond rises to go check on his patients while the knight leaves the other direction to go collect comfort items for both his co-bind and his Liege.

Oh no. Revon is back.

Revon is back and asking questions. He can't look up at the knight no matter how hard he tries, instead sinking into himself further. It's an obvious admission of guilt, but... well, he feels guilty, so he may as well not try and lie his way out of it. Even if he's terrified, he needs to tell the truth, right?

"All my fault," he mumbles. "Sorry. I'm sorry. I was- I-"

Would it not be better for everyone if he left? It'd certainly be less stressful for Revon. Probably Pilvi too.

He can barely even explain himself and it feels as if he's only been dead weight the entire time he's been out of that airship. He can't leave right now because Sitriini needs him but something in him is screaming that he's supposed to be receiving punishment right now.

"I know better," he half-growls at himself. "I know better and I screwed it up again. And now Pilvi is hurt and there is blood everywhere and it is all because of me. I'm sorry."

[attempted--eloquence]

You ever just think about how Coach Finstock told Scott and Stiles in s4 that Liam is their responsibility now, which means sticking together, looking out for each other, and having each other’s backs

And then think about s6 Theo being branded Liam’s “responsibility” and them sticking together, looking out for each other, and having each other’s backs ((even when they’re at each other’s throats))

I’m being so normal about it

[symphonicsoul]

Misterica's White Prince || Salvation's Sickness

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ So I didn't know what the Cloud rant of the day was going to be until spotty hit me in the face with a song again and then my brain started thinking about replies and things I owed so now we're here because my brain went to this section from one of Theo's posts for Kain :

The problem that Kumo loves to ignore and fundamentally fuels him as a person is the fact he is fueled by grief.

Where as Kumo described the Unlimited this way in a very old post:

Kumo is the one drowning in his grief and the strongest part of that grief is the loss of Misterica. The destruction of his world is what weighs on Kumo's shoulders the heaviest. More so than even the shattering of his own soul. More than anything that's happened within the space of Wonderland or Windaria.

The thing is Kumo will tell you to your face that he is a Wonderlander but he doesn't mean it. He means A Misterican turned Wonderlander, because at his core he feels like if he accepts the title 'Wonderlander' then he is throwing away the title 'Misterican' and he just can't do that.

It's been sixteen years since Misterica fell and he still hasn't found a way to cope with it. The only way he found to deal with the pain was to simply not deal with it at all. To simply just go numb to it. Kumo has described to many different muses that his situation concerning Wonderland is "I've been stuck here for sixteen years." when, in fact, he could leave through the use of dimensional portals if he so chose to do so.

There is an internal war going on inside Kumo that he refuses to talk to about to anyone and that he both loves Wonderland desperately because he understands that the people here are not at fault for what's happened but at the same time he also hates Wonderland and blames it for taking everything away from him.

He knows. He knows in his heart that Wonderland only takes what Chaos destroys and Wonderland is not at fault here and that Chaos is but sometimes he can't stop himself from being furious in general because of all he lost.

And he also knows full well that every person who lives in Wonderland has lost just as much as he has. That they're all in the same storm together, just sailing different ships. He knows.

But he is holding back so much anger and rage from losing his entire world (see: planet) that he doesn't know how to handle or process any of it, so he does the only thing he's known how to do with it since he was a child and that is bottling it.

Kumo is deathly homesick and he will not tell anyone. He was raised in a situation where as a Misterican Royal it was his life's purpose to give himself to his people and live in service to them. He honestly believes his life belongs to that of Misterica and her populace and now that populace is gone so he hardly knows what to do with himself.

So he's turned his eyes on Wonderland in response. As the Unlimited of Salvation, his mind demands that he has someone to serve, and he's decided that since Misterica is gone, he will serve the Universe instead.

The whole of the entire cosmos.

Kumo has decided he will just dedicate his existence to serving them. Where Kaze is a "Monsterous as I must" type of existence, Kumo is a "Whatever it takes to protect and save." He was raised as a Misterican Royal in a situation where Misterican Royals bowed their heads to the populace - not the other way around. Without that place marker in his life, Kumo feels lost and he doesn't know what he's exactly supposed to do with himself.

That is but one of the many reasons why Kumo wants to take the reigning throne of Wonderland for his own. The biggest difference your will find between the Unlimited is that Kumo regrets. Kumo laments. Kumo wallows. Kumo feels sorrow. Kumo carries remorse. Kumo grieves.

Kumo's entire person at its core, is that of a grieving boy lost in the world unsure of how he is supposed to proceed.

Kumo both loves and hates Wonderland simultaneously because it is his home now but he doesn't want it to be. He wants Misterica. He wants his palace. He wants his family back, and Kumo regrets the fall. He wishes he knew then what he knows now so that he could have saved his people and saved his home.

Kumo is in a constant state of grieving in the concerns of his parents, his brother, and his soul binds. They were his entire world and they kept him balanced. They kept him "level with the clouds" if you will.

But the thing to remember is that even though, Kumo grew up in the high society situation that he did - Kumo's entire life has been one gigantic illusion of choice. It's always been an illusion. He was born a the Child of Salvation to his people and they dropped a heavy prophecy on his shoulders the minute he took his first breath. He was expected to save them from whatever calamity was coming and since he didn't - he blames himself for it to the highest extent he can.

He has tried to accept Wonderland as his home. He has tried to tell himself The Comodeen is home now and he has done what he's been able to make a little space within its walls that is all his own, but it doesn't take the pain out of his heart that what was his home is dead and gone.

Worse because a piece of Misterica exists within Wonderland and Kumo knows where it is. He has just been too overcome with grief and sadness that when he thinks about exploring the one sky island that survived - he is overcome with a fear he can't begin to understand or explain.

Not just an island but his island survived. The Capital. Taivaallinen Keskusta. He's too scared to go too far in. He's terrified but he wants to so badly because it is all he has left of his home. His palace, his city, his water, his lakes, his trees, his plants, his home.

He is terrified to explore it and his heart won't give him anything other than soul crushing pain as a reason why. It's not just an emotional pain for him but a physical one. He can feel the pain in his chest. He can feel his lungs get tight. He can feel his whole body become overloaded with pain because his anxiety runs wild so instead of going in any further than he already has, he just runs.

And he stays away for months on end.

He tries to pretend the thing he is longing for isn't out there, so he doesn't have to deal with the feelings and the pain and the regret in his chest.

That is the problem with the Unlimited of Salvation, while he has accepted his role to save the universe and serve them. He has accepted his duty to save those around him and everyone that his hands can reach - he can't even begin to start on the path that would let him save himself.

[shanklin]

Okay okay but thinking about one of the things that finally gets everyone to realize they messed up in that Relativity Falls AU being when Stan points out that for all they say Stan never visited them, they never visited him either. And maybe if they had they would have noticed something was wrong.

Selfish Shellfish AU - Masterpost

YES!!! That's about what I had in mind.

I've been thinking about Ford, Mabel and Dipper going to New Jersey to find Stan and investigate what really happened. 

Stan wouldn't just kill Filbrick and then disappear right? There must be a different explanation.

But as it turns out no one in the neighborhood is actually surprised at that turn of events.

Filbrick pulled Stan out of school and has been working him to the bone, forcing Stan to not only work at the pawn shop but also other part time jobs. No one is sure when Stan actually slept.

And the way Stan was always bruised up and injured even though he quit boxing a long time ago.

At least the bullies stopped bothering with Stan when it became clear that he wouldn't react to anything they did and just take it.

Interviewing the neighbors be like: “Oh that poor sweet boy. He would always help me carry my groceries upstairs. Good riddance that Filbrick died! He had it coming. I’ve tried to call the police on him but they just came out shaking that bastard's hands instead. Pigs, all of them. I hope he made him suffer!”

[symphonicsoul]

⋯✧・♪♫♪・✧⋯ Sydän frowns as deeply at his and Aqua's words. He keeps saying later or tonight and that absolutely won't do. He didn't do all this so that he could go back out there tonight to risk his life on uncertainty. It would be better if they all rested and then the two of them went out tomorrow.

Together.

Certainly things would prove more effective if they had both blue and orange to play with.

Still he's doing his best to uncap the orange bottle he keeps in his pocket and let it's contents fall into his hand. He'd been ... Sparing with them, or at least he tried to be. He knew this day was coming but he didn't think it was going to make his heart race quite so bad.

Even hands under the table so they can't see the horror show playing out before citrine eyes, he tries to keep his cool anyway when the very last pill that lives in that container falls into his hand.

It's the last one.

He's tried to drag it out for as long as possible but today's the day and there's nothing they can do about it. Even if he hacked his dosages to a quarter of what they should have been or more... He hasn't been off his medication since he was.... A child.... He's forty five now. It's been ... So long he can't remember when he started...

And now in his hand he holds ... The very last one. What was he supposed to do now?

So it's hard when he pulls his hands back up above the table so they both can see the single white circle setting in his hand as tears roll down his cheeks. He's crying and doesn't know why. It's a multitude of reasons.

Stress, fear, anxiety. Guilt. Ooh guilt is a big one and he is suddenly full of the emotion as if he didn't try hard enough to keep it all together. He has no idea the man he's about to become but he knows without at least this one of his many medications he was at least tolerable to be around.

"I'm sorry." He sounds with guilt lacing his tears. "I'm sorry this is my fault."

If he hadn't lost his damn mind when Usva died and if he'd only stayed put then they would all still be together and Sielu and Sydän wouldn't have had to chase him and if they didn't get swept up by the gales then - then they wouldn't be stuck in this hell.

"I'm sorry." He sounds again as the tears fill his voice like an overflowing river. "It's the last one."

His mind is warring because he doesn't want to take it if it's the last one but then again he doesn't know when the next time they'll have a full meal like this so he needs to take it now while he still has food in his stomach.

"It's the last one."

And his voice cracks as his hand clos s around the pill and tears fall into the half eaten bowl of soup before him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I - I - I'm going to be terrible."

He doesn't remember the kind of person he is without them but he knows what he feels like when he doesn't take them and he knows what he's felt like recent with only taken a quarter of the proper dose.

"We wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for me. We could be home. You could be home and with Pilvi and Revon and Isoveli. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You're stuck in hell and it's all my fault."

It takes everything in him as hands tremble to force himself to take that last sacred piece of medication. The last of his mood stabilizers. Everything else is long since gone. Pain medication used up quickly with the injuries he obtained from the fall. He'd split the mood stabilizers he was taking to be one at a time instead of two kinds at once like he should have... But this is marks the true end of everything.

True withdrawal starts tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

They have survived another day in this hell and somehow they needed to get their hands on whatever this 'gil' was. They needed to do whatever it took to survive. He had a few kolilkko on him and maybe they could trade them for something. Maybe Kartal would leave them alone for some of them?

They needed to figure it out tomorrow and he didn't want any of them to leave tonight. He needed to keep everyone in his sight. While he's still himself.

He can't promise he'll be the same man in coming weeks.

"Please don't go out." He nearly begs. "Not again. Not tonight. We can go out together tomorrow."

And he doesn't have it in himself to look either of them in the eye as he sobs. Sydän exhales deeply so the room fills with a much mist as she can manage. It's as thick as it usually would be but it's better than nothing. It's also not going to stop what's about to happen. It can't take his medical aliments away and it can't make his chest stop hurting or his mood stay level.

All he can do is set there and cry while he attempts to continue to eat with a right arm that can't stop shaking.

He can't look up from the soup before him.

Don't beat yourself up, Aqua.

It's much too late for that. Even if neither of them can see his failures, he can only sit and stare at the pile laid out. Sitriini shouldn't be cleaning. He should be resting, and yet -

"I'll go out later," he mumbles, because soup isn't really much of a meal.

He just needs to try until he truly can't. Not until he just wants to lay down, but until he can hardly move. Besides, there's a chance that his co-binds are out there too.

Out there and maybe even doing better. He knows Revon won't let Pilvi stay in total squalor or misery.

He hopes Revon stayed with him. Revon is the only one really geared to protect him in this hell, but then again it'd be just as good if Aurinko or Taivas were with him too - hell, even some of the other guards or palace workers.

Somebody, just so he's not out there all alone. He's only seventeen. He can't be out there all alone.

Resting now feels like giving up. The only reason he bothers with the soup is because he knows Sydän won't ever let him hear the end of it if he doesn't eat it.

At least if Sitriini helped with it, he can be confident it doesn't have any flesh in the recipe. Apparently people eat other creatures here.

Worse yet, he's heard some rumors that they eat eggs.

He swears to himself he won't stoop to that sort of indecency. Never.

"I mean... I guess can trade work tonight, if she's back. Instead of going out. Kartal has hated us since we got here. Maybe 'cause they take some sort of weird currency. I don't know. I've yet to see it for myself. I don't even know what it is. They call it 'gil' in town. I can't get my hands on it."

Maybe that's his next mission. Find some money so the man will shut up.

"Maybe there's a bank or something and I can exchange a few coins. I've just got to figure out how the hell to speak the language and that's a lot harder without Valo... even if he'd make it hell."

[akindplace]

Abusive people often know what to say/do to make you feel at your worst. The hurt they inflict is their responsibility, always, and it's not a matter of "people can only hurt you if you allow it". In an abusive situation, you don't have control over the hurt they are inflicting. It's not "just words", it's not casual like someone making a critical comment. It's abuse. It's traumatizing. And abusers often taken control out of people and then gaslight them to making them believe it's their fault. The guilt you feel about yourself or the victim-blaming actions of others is very damaging, but the blame is never the survivor's, the abuser is always, always, the one at fault, and there is never any way around that fact, though people may say otherwise and you might feel guilt. Please don't blame yourself. Please don't dismiss your feelings.

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[symphonicsoul]

:¨༺ ☽ ✩ ◯ ✩ ☾ ༻¨:·.

Chip.

Chip.

Chip.

SHATTER

So it all comes out and all eyes are on the man as he screams. Somehow he wonders if this is what he looked like when he lost his mind on Black Wind a few months ago. A bubbling burning hatred that can sear flesh if one gets too close. Now it all makes sense. The Oath has become a point of pride. Pride and Stubbornness in being able to say I was always loyal all while the love within has long since disappeared.

Perhaps that's why there no longer exists a small blue gem on a pale ear. Perhaps that's why his words are not reaching him. His mind has been poisoned and his perception has been warped. Herba did everything she could to make Sielu hate him and to bring him to the ultimate pit of despair. Oscha had something to do with obviously since it was impossible for the prince to be in two places at once.

But Sielu has placed his own King in a corner and sat up a flawless set of moves to invoke the status of check, almost daring him to bark back and to scold him for saying such things. As if he thinks he is airing out the Prince's dirty secrets and exposing him for the demon he was.

They had no idea the kind of demon he truly was.

He tried to tell them. He tried but he was quickly shut down and now he knows why. There is no place for two scarred hearts. Herba wanted his Opettaja to hate him, so she crafted the ultimate play.

He knew.

He always knew that she was jealous of His Excellency and she longed to be able to twist him with her own hands. He knew from the unwanted kisses she could place upon his head when she would be given permission to put him under against his will. When he would wake her mindless doll once more and ordered to unleash a hell sent symphony in a way that only he could.

He knew that she would have given anything to be able to whisk him away from His Excellency if just to see what she could subject him to and wait to see if he would indeed revive. She would have hughug'ed him the second she had the chance if she could have gotten away with it and he knows this fact all too well. That damnable flower.

Meanwhile he wanted nothing more than to set the thing blaze and burn it right to the ground.

But Opettaja doesn't stop.

Chip

Chip

Chip

SHATTER

He'll lose it all at this point, but there's part of him that doesn't really mind. There's part of him that doesn't really care. It's enough now to know that Kain is better and they're alive. He'll release them all from their curse when he finally goes, so what does it matter if he pushes himself past his breaking point? Oh and how does he know he has a breaking point.

It's a strange sensation now how he swears he can feel the fault lines cracking and stretching out to spread a little further across his skin. He swears he can feel it spread across him and turn more of his flesh into the cosmic price he's now forever paying with his own soul.

Forgive me, Lady Tiamat. I don't know if I can bear the weight. Do they feel it when I shatter?

No, Child that burden is yours alone.

At least he has that. At least he knows that despite the binds of their souls into one life, his vassals won't go crashing down with their liege turned sinking ship.

There's not much time left now.

There was never much time left in the first place.

Thirty three short years to fail his people and his family so utterly. So completely that a bind of his own soul could be deceived in such a way. Does he correct him? Does he bear his own soul to him? He can't. If he corrects him now then he is just doing exactly what the problem was in the first place.

If he corrects him now then -

"Kumo wouldn't do that."

It's a sharp voice cutting in as he the sound of footsteps crunching over grass and dirt fill his ears and before he realizes it, his blond companion is standing at his side in a furious rage.

"Kumo not only wouldn't do that but couldn't do that. Everything he's told me, to what you just said - excuse my language here but the timeline is fucked."

"Cid - I - "

"No. You're not going to stand there and take this when we both know it's wrong." Gloved hands are balled into fists at his side while indigo eyes glared forward. "Kain said these men were your family but this doesn't seem like any family I would want - not to me."

"Cid - stop."

"No. I said you're not going to stand here and take this and I don't really give a damn what the status is of what your relationship is. You told me, you lost Misterica when you were seventeen. Correct?"

There's a timid head of white hair nodding as the technician begins.

"Alright, then correct me if I get something wrong but you also told me you lived with Kaze for three years on his world, yes?"

"On Windaria, yes."

"So you wouldn't have gotten to Wonderland until you were twenty years old. You're thirty three, that was thirteen years ago. You spent twelve of them stuck in Gaudium with the Earl and you've only been with us for the last year. You've only been able to be your own person for a year, Kumo. You were stuck in that prison for twelve years, so how and when you would have had the time to do as he claims I have no idea.

Not between all the times you've died. Not with all the nightmares. Not with everything we've had to work through. And on top of it, we've only had you back for a couple months since Chaos is still after you. There was no time. Something isn't right - wait."

He's stopping as he looks about the group and the blond sound out to all of them in a general question.

"Is one of your names Valo?"

There is a heavy sigh as pale shoulders sink and a body of snow has moonlight vision hit the ground. Indigo eyes are back on him in seconds.

"You already knew. Dammit Kumo. Speak for yourself."

"I figured it out, yes."

The Historian is shifting the best he can despite Sielu's hold on him and he's working to keep the Musician pulled as close to his chest as possible. A weak voice sounds.

"My name is Valo. Why?"

"When was the last time you saw him?" The engineer is motioning the deflating prince at his side.

"When Misterica was destroyed." He sounds with curiosity lining his tone.

"Kumo, truthfully answer me, when was the last time you saw Valo?"

"Two months ago."

"Where?"

"In the forest but it wasn't him. It was a trick."

"To capture you again."

"And it worked."

"Tell them what you told me."

"......"

"White Cloud, so help me. You tell them what you told me, right now."

His eyes are practically glued to the space on the ground right before his feet as his hand works to gently squeeze at the Amestrian's as tight as he can without causing pain.

"Now. It is not fair for you to withhold that kind of information in exchange for trying to spare someone you love's feelings when they are suffering because of a lie. Taking the pain is not noble or it is kind. You are being cruel, White Cloud. Tell him."

"There is a man who works for Chaos. His name is Oscha. He and Herba were the original two Lords of Gaudium before I arrived. They were always there for as long as I was. Long before, I can only assume. They - they came for me about two months ago and they used Opettaja Valo to trick me and drop my guard. Herba she - knocked me out with her pollen and I woke up in Chaos' grasp again.

I saw Opettaja Valo standing next to him and I saw - I watched Oscha shape shift back to his usual self right before my eyes. It was never him at all. They just manipulated me again just like the time they revived Isoveli. They're always using my loved ones against me."

The hand that is gripping at the Amestrian's is tighten down as he speaks as his arm starts to infect with the slightest tremble.

"So there you have it." Cid sounds as he raises his hands out to his sides.

"Kumo is innocent. He never abandoned you like you were led to believe. I don't believe for a second that this man could abandon the people he never stops talking about. You were tricked. They wanted you to fall to despair because it feeds Chaos. They used you just like they used him."

Chip

Chip

Chip

SHATTER

Even if it's out in the open now.. he can still feel a small piece of himself fall away.

The glare he receives is enough to make the growling stop. The voice brimming with dangerous anger hits like a blow to the chest and it is impossible to hide the hurt which crosses his face at the implications.

Pilvi would rather defend some human, some soul made of Soil, than his own bind who, supposedly, he'd been 'so scared to lose'.

What a fucking joke if he's ever heard one.

His liege keeps talking and it only gets worse. He's unkind and stupid now, according to Pilvi, and evidently clueless about a Life Oath he swore himself. Of course he fucking remembers. He'd just begged to keep it despite all the horrible things he's endured all because Pilvi said so.

Asking him not to growl would have been more than enough, but he just has to insult him and then put on a kind face by the end of it all as if to make himself look like the picture of holy perfection. As if to make Sielu a liar. As if to dare him to defy, but defy he does anyway.

Even as his growling stops, his head does not lower. He is confused and he is angry and he is exhausted of the lack of respect he's shown at almost every turn. There's a dangerous glint in his eyes, though his hands do not raise and his body remains where it is.

"The problem is the fact you left me to suffer. The problem is the fact I cannot say or do or feel or think anything without being dismissed, shut down, or otherwise treated as if I've slipped on the wind by people I would lay down my life for without a second thought. The problem is the fact that no one ever tells me anything yet they expect me to know anyway."

He's already out of breath. His face feels hot and his muscles nearly close to collapse, but those don't matter. Not anymore. He can't make himself care.

"You want to know what happened so badly?" he snaps, hardly able to breathe between statements but still forcing them out. If Pilvi wants him to talk, he'll talk.

"I was tied down in the bottom of an airship and tortured for nine years because YOU decided I was her pet. Those were your words. And then I get out, I go looking for you because I am still loyal to you - certainly not a stranger, but you - and what do I get? Scolded for being wary of someone I do not know who got off of what looks to me a lot like a prison? Cold formality?"

Another breath. Tiamat be blessed, his throat fucking hurts, but there's no way he'll stop now.

"I get held at a distance when I bring up my Oath, but you get to use it to be right because - because fuck Sielu, right? Fuck that guy. He's a useless, heavy-headed idiot, isn't he?! He's stupid! He can't get anything right, can he?! That's why you left him to suffer, right?! That's why he doesn't matter anymore! The only time he's a good pet is when he's quiet and he plays nice! Every other time he's bad. He deserves pain, he deserves to hurt... and you hurt me and I don't want to hu - "

The word catches in his throat like a stone, blocking all airflow for a moment before he remembers to breathe. Another attempt at finishing the word produces little more than air, and as a vocalist by trade he already knows exactly what's happened.

How ironic that he'd finally blow out his vocal cords right in front of his student.

Well, at least he can teach by example. He doesn't want to yell anyway.

[indigodiskmybeloved]

Part 1 / ... / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

[symphonicsoul]

.: The Devil's Toll :.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ He doesn't understand why his hair is getting stroked so lovingly but he also doesn't know why he's finding it so hard to pull away. There is a small hand brushing through white locks over and over and he doesn't quite know how he ended up leaning his head up on His Excellency’s chair like some kind of lounging cat but here he is doing just that nonetheless.

Words: 2.9 k   Pages:  6 TW;;  Depression, PTSD, Submission, Mental Illness, Survivor’s Guilt, gaslighting, possession, isolation, abuse, mental abuse, physical abuse, self blame, objectification, manipulation, injury, mental breakdown, intimidation, love bombing, dissociation, conditioning, punishment and praise, rewards, murder

His stomach twists in disgust as he realizes the true stakes of the situation and now if he moves wrong that hand in his hair will turn into a variable claw in the matter of a few moments. He hates how he can't remember ever laying down like this and quite frankly he can't remember waking up this morning either.

 It's becoming more and more frequent in recent days. He's missing entire chunks of time and he doesn't quite know what to make of it. He's missing chunks of time and he can't remember when was the last time His Excellency killed him. Somehow this seems like more of a bad thing than a good thing for as strange as that sounds. Shouldn't one want to be spared the pain of death? Well yes, and of course he does too but this also means that when the time comes that he inevitably messes up again, when His Excellency makes a move for punishment it will be the most severe one he's received to date. 

He's not stupid. He knows how this game works. Praise and Punishment walk hand in hand with this little beast and right now those same hands are in his hair and he can't move. He can't pull away no matter how much he wants to and he can't even flinch or breathe wrong unless he wants those small but deadly fingers ready to tear snow colored locks right out from his head. 

It's always such a wretched sensation.  

Nothing is worse than the feeling of his hair being pulled. He hates it. He hates the feeling and he hates the way it makes him feel so vulnerable. How the pain of it will bring him to his knees and have him fighting back the tears at the sensation. You would think one who has died as many times as he has would have more pain tolerance for something seemingly so simple but the sensation of even the root of his hair going taunt is enough to send his nervous system into overdrive. 

But what he hates the most is how he can feel himself start purring. He doesn’t know why he does it. He tries to tell himself to stop but he can feel those fingers grow softer as they stroke through snow. The louder he purrs the softer they get and he hates himself for finding so much comfort in the sensation. He hates himself for finding peace in this.  He should be running away from this beast as quickly as his body would carry him. He should be fleeing at any chance he gets but instead he allows himself to sink into his place on the arm of this chair as that little monster continues to comb through fluffy spikes with a gentleness that could only be described as care. 

That can’t be right. 

That’s just not possible, and he hates how many times he feels like he’s had this conversation with himself as of late. The beast does not love him. The demon does not care. The little devil felt nothing for him but yet those lips part and purr out affections of their own. 

“You’ve been so well behaved as of late, Precious.”  The small emperor sounds as his hand continues to work. “You’ve done your tasks so well. I’m proud of you, my Little Cloud. You’ve been such a good pet. Perhaps you deserve some time out of the castle? I think you’ve earned it.” 

He only increases the volume on his purring in response as if doing so will show his gratitude for such a notion but his lips are hanging in a frown behind the thin metal covering his face as the boy of pink continues. 

“You can go with Herba the next she leaves.” The Tyrant offers as he finally pulls his hand away and out of the Misterican’s hair. “But when she leaves you know the rules. Her word is as good as my word and you are to do whatever she asks of you. You understand, don’t you Precious?” 

“Yes, Your Excellency.” 

“That’s my good boy. You’ve become so well behaved. I’m so proud of you, Makenshi.” 

His purring only grows louder as those hands return to his hair and he doesn’t know how long he stays like that but it’s long enough that he doesn’t remember falling asleep.  Did he fall asleep? He doesn’t know. He does know that he woke in his own quarters the next morning and he was met with Herba throwing her arms over his shoulders to bring him into a very tight and very unwanted hug and she leaned to try to push a kiss to his cheek and he could only lean himself the opposite direction so far to avoid contact. 

“Makenshi.”  

His name was trumpeted in his direction in a small but authoritative voice and it has the Misterican standing up straight giving this damnable woman the space she needed to push those poison painted lips directly to his cheek even if it was covered in metal.  Dull jade is looking forward into the main hall with the entirety of his form tingling to both get away from this woman and get off the ground. The place just above the little demon’s head is calling his name because then he is both in eyesight but at the same time away from this gaggle of absolute morons. 

If he could never associate with any of them for the rest of his life ever again, he’s sure he could find a way to be happy. If only Rorahm could finally wake up - but  - jade moons downcast at the thought because at this rate his sun would never rise and he was going to be stuck here for the rest of said life. Should he make the most of it? Should he adjust?  

No. No. Listen to yourself Makenshi. You’re falling for that monster’s tricks! 

But are they tricks? 

It’s been too many years and he doesn’t know anymore. He doesn’t remember the sound of his Mother’s voice and he can hardly remember his Father’s face. He tries not to think about them too much because he doesn’t want to get himself all upset and then in turn upset His Excellency. The Tyrant isn’t exactly one to be any form of comforting if he were to simply explain that he was thinking about home. In fact, he doesn’t want that little monster anywhere near  anything to do with Misterica in the first place, so it would probably be for the best to simply forget it all anyway. If he can’t remember then the little beast can manipulate it against him. 

He can’t seem to remember most things lately anyway. 

He can’t remember going to sleep the night before and he hardly can make sense of the morning. He just wants this woman to get off of him but instead she lets herself sink down to wrap her arm around his and lean herself up against him like they were anything that could be considered close - which was comical in his mind when the closest he would like to be to this 

woman would be to watch her burn.  

Still he just adjusts to the feeling of her hanging off his arm as he focuses his attention on His Excellency instead because the only thing he ever needed to do was to keep the little gremlin happy and as long as he did that he’d keep his head. Why was the beast smiling at him the way he was? He doesn’t like it. It’s making his skin crawl almost as much as the feeling of the plant witch hanging off his arm is. 

“Makenshi, I am assigning you to assist Herba today. I expect you two to cooperate while you’re out in the field. Herba knows what needs to be done, so you simply need to follow her lead, and I shouldn’t have to repeat myself with what we discussed yesterday, do I?” 

“No, Your Excellency. I remember.”  He sounds, raising his free arm to cross it over his chest to give this pink haired abomination a half bow. What he was saying he remembers, he doesn’t know. Quite frankly, he doesn’t even even the day before. Yesterday? He couldn’t tell you. Herba’s face was where his memory picks up and he hates that too because there is something about thinking about yesterday that is turning his stomach but he couldn’t tell you why. 

So now they’re returning to that damnable airship and he hates being on it.  It’s nauseating and the amount of pollen in the air is enough to make him sick. His stomach is twisting in knots As he takes a seat. He doesn’t feel well but there is the sound of jingling chimes in the air as he looks over to the open deck just to the right of him. Chimes blowing in the wind and it's enough to tell him to just focus on the sound of something pleasant for once as he lays his head down and tells himself to just go back to sleep.  She’ll wake him when they get there. She always does. 

And he’s sure it’s for something nasty.  It always is.

He won’t do it this time though. He’ll never kill again and he doesn’t care how badly His Excellency beats him to death for disobeying orders. He will not stain the Holy Blade with yet more blood of the innocent… He just needs to not think about it and sleep. He’ll fight with her when he wakes up. His Excellency might be able to get the better of him but Herba won’t. He will never let that woman - 

“ ‘kenshi-darling? ‘Kenshi-darling, wake up you silly willy. If you told me you were tired, I would have gotten you a blanket, lovely.”  She smiles at him with a face that is possibly dripping with more venom than it ever has before. Her smiles are always fake and they turn his stomach, but she is taking him by the hand and he’s letting her.  He doesn’t feel like fighting with her.  

It’s a quiet town they’ve found themselves in this time. It’s closer to the outer reaches of Wonderland but not quite all the way out. A town that has larger than normal buildings built up and a large building he wonders if it is a church of some kind on the other side of town. She has him by the hand as they walk, and the people of this village don’t seem to be paying them any mind.  Children are laughing, the smell of fresh bread is in the air and the city itself seems at peace. 

Herba is leaning herself in to cling to his arm as if they were some sort of couple and it is taking everything in him not to shake her off. She just seems to be happy to take a stroll with him and he doesn’t understand what the catch is. Why did His Excellency let him out of the castle if there was nothing wicked for him to do? Why let him just come take in the sights of Wonderland if they didn’t mean for him to cause some kind of havoc?  

She’s strolling through the local bazaar with him as his nose catches the smell of sugar and it’s been so long since he has got to eat anything truly sweet. He sniffs once and then again and she’s making an Oooh? Sort of sound that he doesn’t like as she takes him by the hand to lead him towards the source of the scent. 

“You like sweets, don’t you, ‘kenshi? I’ll buy you something. I’ll buy you something nice, for how good you’ve been lately. Tell me what you want. Anything and you can have it. We all deserve a little treat every now and then.” 

Is she serious? She can’t be. 

The Church bell is ringing in the background as she pulls him along. A grin slipping on her lips as she pulls him into the middle of the marketplace, only to look back at the Misterican with bright eyes and a poison purple smile. 

“Anything you want, ‘kenshi-darling. Name it, and it’s yours.” She pauses to look towards the church and watches as the streets seem to fill as if the building is emptying further with each chime.  “Must be noon.”  She sounds returning her gaze to her companion only to watch as a pale hand reaches back towards the hilt of his blade to rock it free with a single click.  

“ ‘kenshi-darling?”  She sounds but still just continues to watch the man move. The swordsman takes his blade up into his grip and it is held out towards her at length as if extending the tip in her direction. Mist rolls out from behind bared teeth in plumbs when the devil growls.  He’s pushing off a foot to take off in a dead lunge in her direction but instead of striking at the object of his absolute hatred, the man of white races past her directly towards that of an older man down the way of the lane of the marketplace and cleaves the poor soul clean in two. 

More Mist rolls out from parted pale as his blade is swung to send a flood of white colored energy racing through the stalls like a spark on a wick until it reaches its destination and half the bazaar goes up in a massive explosion.  Screams fill the sky as citizens start to scurry and scatter. 

“The White Devil!!” They cry.  “The White Devil has come for us all!” 

Red stains window panes and runs along the cracks of the cobblestone as the carnage continues.  The man of snow does not cease his hellsent symphony even as men and women alike fall to their knees to beg for their lives. Their lights are snuffed out regardless. Children struck down with little concern and explosion after explosion brings building of stone tumbling to the ground. 

Before long the symphony of sayonara falls silent and the Maestro of the Massacre stands center stage, crimson dripping from the Holy Blade stained with sin once more. 

Only one other life remains and a dangerous gaze of dimmed jade is turning to glare daggers at the plant like woman. He’s raising his blade and taking stance to charge her when she merely raises her hand in his direction and snaps her fingers together. 

Jade eyes go wide before they start blinking rapidly and soon their owner is looking all around him with horror etching itself into his features.  Anger overcomes him as he refocuses on Gaudium’s Lord of Plants and Potions only to scream. 

“What did you do?! Answer me! You didn’t have to kill them!” 

But he only gets a small laugh in response as she floats over to him to rest just over his shoulders. 

“What did I do? I didn’t do anything. You did this, ‘kenshi-baby. This was all your work. You killed them all gracefully and you didn’t leave a single one alive. Truly expert skill.”   

“You’re lying!” He hisses as his mind starts to reel at the possibility. Her lungs didn’t sound like she was lying. 

“Am I though?” She asks coyly. “Look at your sword.” 

And her hand is pointing a finger down causing jade eyes to drop along with it even if he’s scared to do what she’s asking. The Maken is in his hand and it is covered in blood. He’s covered in blood.  

His hand is trembling as the Maken is released and a deep guttural scream escapes him from down in his belly as the Holy Blade clatters to the ground. His hands are flying up to slip into white locks in between his horns only for the scream to get louder.  

What was going ON?!!!! This wasn’t right!!! He doesn’t remember ANYTHING!!!! 

His entire body is shaking as his knees hit the ground. All he can do is scream. He killed these people. He slaughtered an entire town and he doesn’t even know how or why. He can’t remember their faces. He never knew their names.  He slaughtered these people and -  

Herba is wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she hovers there next to him for the moment, nuzzling her face in close to his own. 

“ You did so good today, ‘kenshi-darling. Let’s go home and tell, His Excellency, about what a good job you did. I’m sure he’ll reward you. Oh and !”  She’s letting her feet hit the ground to shuffle over to the now destroyed stand of the vendor from earlier that had been selling all sorts of sweet treats and she picks up what appears to be some sort of hard candy on a stick and extends it out to him.  “I said I’d get you anything. A treat for doing such a good job.” 

But he couldn’t eat anything now.  Now it would only taste bitter.   

[ailurophilerg]

Block don’t report

[jeweledstone]

The Duality of Man

Aka: The Angry Rat to Mafia Boss Pipeline is Very Real and VERY Scary!

[symphonicsoul]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ Hands are raising and he watches with a pit in his stomach to read the signs that are being signaled at him for what to do. Opettaja says he loves him still. He says to get the Maken and to rest with him. He says that he's not being selfish for just wanting his family and he's right - that's all he wanted.

He just wanted his family. He just wanted to be small again and to rest in Opettaja's arms like he used to. He just wanted to be little again. Little and safe and warm.

The tears are rushing as he nods. Slowly does he move to collect the Maken from the wall on the other side of the room. He doesn't know exactly why Opettaja is asking for his blade but he's not about to deny him. He's already done enough damage by issuing an order. By growling when he stepped in front of Kain, but he just felt - it doesn't matter how he felt.

He knew Kain wouldn't have done anything and Opettaja Sielu was only acting out of protection of himself. He didn't know Kain - he didn't know Kain like he did.

But still he's collecting the Maken only to return to the other's side, looking about the room as he's trying to decide if he should put his shirts back on before they lay down to rest. He doesn't want anyone else to see. No one else needs to know about his shattered state and yet, he's only moving the discarded articles of clothing off to one side before he's crawling up onto the mattress in order to get in close to the other body of Mist.

It feels so awkward.

It feels like he's forcing himself in a place where he's not wanted. Only humored. Opettaja wouldn't lie to him, would he? He wouldn't blame considering he went so far as to drop an order.

Like an idiot.

He curls into himself, bringing the Maken close to his chest. He's hurt Opettaja and he's being selfish and trying to have things be the way they were. He can't stop crying. Like a child, he can't stop the tears from running and he can't hear the sounds of cracking as lines stretch and creep up his back as he does.

"Opettaja I'm sorry." He cries. "I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for being awful. I'm sorry. Rakastan Sinua. Rakastan Sinua niin paljon."

His voice is practically begging as he sobs, only pulling in on himself further as the sound of cracking grows louder.

"I never should have dropped an order. I was mad. I wasn't thinking. I wasn't mad at you. I just didn't think. I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm such an idiot. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me, I won't do it again. I promise. I swear I'll never do it again. I'm sorry."

When he was young, he used to fall into a song he never could finish. It came from within him, a rhythm that seemed to solve every worry he carried by guiding him along the winds of his life.

The tune changed when he met Pilvi. The very moment he was first in that boy's presence, a simple idea exploded across his heart, a full symphony where once there was only a half-written melody.

Pilvi has been his calling, always. His purpose. Why let it change? Why?

Pilvi needs him still - and quickly, if the sound of cracking glass is anything to go off of.

He does not remember how to help, but he remembers how he used to let go. He would let go and allow answers to come to him. He hasn't done that in far too long, but perhaps now...

A half-sigh leaves him as he allows some of the tension in his shoulders to drop. He needs to relax and allow his real instincts to do the work just as they used to. It's hard without music, but his soul will guide him nonetheless.

It draws his eyes to the blade. It, too, is cracking. He refuses to linger on thoughts of "what if" rather than "now". Pilvi needs him. He needs what Sielu is, not what he's trying to be.

His hands raise once more to sign before he opens his arms up.

[ Bring your sword. Come rest with me. Be as small as you like. I never stopped loving you. Not for even a second. I'm sorry I have not expressed it well. Come here. I'll hold you like I used to. I'm so sorry. You are not selfish. You want your family. That isn't selfish. ]