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astorichan · 2 years ago

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Broken Glass

@mostlydeadallday gave me a prompt: Hollow, I (Hollow, Broken Glass) Hi, I came to play in your sandbox, Elle /wave

Text under the break.

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The vessel followed.

Its place was always to follow, steps adhering to stay behind its superiors and to the right. Absent, in everything but its imposing stature. Silent, in everything but obeying the orders given.

It was not following its Creator, not anymore—for He was gone, well and truly consumed by the bottomless maw with no fangs that the Void was. It was not following Hornet, either—for she was not present, promising to catch up later.

The sound of rain had become familiar to it, a perpetual noise underlining its existence, though the drumming on its mask was a much kinder one than what it knew from the Radiance. It was cool, gentle kisses on the white bone, seeping into the ugly crack that ran over its right eye. It was a background hum, streaming down broken, cracked stone and shattered glass windows, splattering at the vessel’s feet as it moved.

The capitol had been dubbed the City of Tears, Ogrim had told it. Back when the last remnants of the capitol's denizens fell to the infection and there was no one left to repair the leaks in the cavern's ceiling. Back when the vessel’s failure had become absolute, carrying away with itself the last chances of Hallownest’s survival.

It remembered the city in its prime—silver gleam like the tender touches of His light, spires stretching up to eternity and massive oval windows like eyes that stared into its very soul. Now, both the city and the vessel were but relics of an age long since gone by, stubborn stains on the face of the world.

Void could not be washed out once it'd tarnished a surface, and the vessel was no different—a failure given the chance that it had never deserved.

Ogrim had promised to show it something, to try and somehow change its mind. What the vessel saw around itself, though—destruction, the city clawed apart by the Radiance's light just like its own shell was, decay, moss and sewer water eating through stone like Her rot had through its Void—failed to make it reconsider.

The narrow streets and passages twisted into each other in a spiral of entropy that should've made sense to the vessel, for it had visited the city several times before. It did not, its memories carefully incised by the Old Light, her golden engravings a stark contrast to the still persisting silver carvings in its shell.

It recognised the passage of time only by the merit of its shell sending demanding reminders of its injuries, telling it time after time that never would it be as close to perfection as it had once been.

That had brought it nowhere. That was never enough.

The surroundings changed, Ogrim leading it to a larger, more spacious cavern that it recalled, rather painstakingly, to be the capitol's central square.

A large, gaping emptiness greeted it—not a single survivor, not a single living bug was there now. It echoed, refracting the same sensation in the vessel’s chest, growing stronger with every step.

Its back throbbed. Its mask sagged down, an involuntary impulse that it was too exhausted to hide, just another proof of its inadequacy—as though Ogrim needed any more, with how battered it was when he'd first seen it after its unearned release from the Temple.

He stopped. The vessel copied the motion, silently grateful, incapable of stifling the pitiful warmth that settled heavy into its thorax. He looked up, and the vessel did the same, for it was here to be shown– something. Up its eyes climbed, beyond Ogrim’s round form, the understanding seeping slowly in like poison. It froze only once two narrow, slit at the corners, eyes looked back at it.

The pitter-patter of the rain grew farther away from it. The crack in its mask seared with every drop that landed on it and ran down the ragged edges. That same rain streamed down the same mask made of stone, the statue a warped mirror of its current state. Or was the vessel a distorted reflection of the monument, perhaps?

Liquid gathered in the vessel’s eyeholes as it stared, head raised up. Its inanimate counterpart's eyes were also weeping, rivulets welling and pouring down, down, down.

City of Tears. A mangled remnant lost in a time it never belonged to, and the statue was no less of a mockery.

"A memorial to you, friend," Ogrim spoke somewhere to the vessel’s left, voicing the forbidden thought that threatened to form in its mind.

"I am sorry. For not seeing, for choosing to ignore, for putting the entire world onto your shoulders." He fell silent after those words, and the vessel felt his claws come into contact with its back. Gentle, as though it was made of porcelain and would break upon the slightest touch.

Something within it keened, a soft and pathetic sound that it had no way of making in truth—it was grateful for that, too, for Ogrim needed not know just how far it had fallen, just how much its Void twisted and writhed within, pushing on the confines of carapace and sigil like never before. Even when its shade had been begging for release it had not felt like this, chitin creaking under the pressure and malforming, dissolving at the edges.

A memorial to the vessel. It deserved none, for no liar, no traitor was worthy of commemoration. A monument to a failure, no one left to bear witness to the irony. A vestige of an era bygone standing testament to the vessel’s inadequacy. It was unworthy of remembrance, but maybe remaining in a world shattered by its flaws was judgement enough.

The Pure Vessel chiselled in stone looked back at it, impassive, unflinching, every end that it had ever failed to meet. Its shoulders throbbed, metal melted into chitin by the Radiance reminding it sharply of what it was no longer. Sparks of pain danced on the fingers of its left hand, twining and making their way upwards, another radical difference from the mirage that stood here in front of the vessel.

Why would Ogrim apologise to it? Why would he help it, even, when all that the vessel had done was be proven too defective to carry out its singular task, the one order it'd been given, the one role it'd been created to fit?

He and Hornet both knew of its purpose more intimately than anyone else and yet both of them insisted on keeping it alive and treating it with kindness that it was unworthy of, that they saw it longing for nevertheless. And now it was Ogrim apologising to it, when it should've been the vessel begging for forgiveness that it did not deserve.

There was no one left to rescind the vessel’s title of a knight, for its liege was gone, consumed by the rising tide of the vessel’s failure too. And those remaining, both Ogrim and Hornet—its sister—refused to carry out a judgement, a punishment.

He had nothing to be sorry about, having not wronged the vessel even if it stretched the limits of its impurity and let itself think it was ever wronged at all. The vessel nodded, feeling more water pour out of its eyes and flow down its mask, dripping from the sharp point of it in a macabre imitation of tears.

The vessel’s neck creaked, pain shooting out of it like daggers burrowing deep into its carapace as it raised its head again. It looked at the statue regardless, feeling something tug and pull within its chest as the rain fell and fell and fell without end.

Perhaps it would be washed away if only it stood here long enough, unfaltering, disregarding the ache that built higher and higher with each passing second.

It was interrupted by a soft splash coming from its right, droplets sprinkling its feet in a needlepoint shower of pressure that went out almost immediately but was enough to pull its attention back to its surroundings.

It was Hornet, needle sheathed across her back. The vessel harboured no illusion that her rather unceremonious drop could be unintentional—not when it knew exactly how nimble and graceful a warrior she was.

She sighed as it met her gaze, struggling not to slouch. If knew that it would allow itself to do so, it would not be able to straighten again, brought low by the weight of its flaws dug into and spread wide open by the light.

"It was impossible from the very beginning, Hollow."

Her voice was a reprimand with no true venom to it, a wickedly sharp edge of a nail turned away from the vessel. She clicked her chelicerae together as it gave her no response—something she made clear was now expected of it—a sound that it had learned to recognise as a sign of deep thought or, at times, displeasure. It stayed frozen in place.

If it were to wish at all, it would wish to be swept away and not left behind like shards of broken glass, drawing haemolymph of anyone unfortunate enough to come too close. Unable, the vessel was unable to give Hornet what she so desired, to fulfil a new role bestowed upon it.

Yet, it longed for her to stay, to extend but one more offer of kindness, but one more impossibly gentle touch to its mask and let it press back into her hands, Void writhing pitifully underneath its carapace-

"You two should go back inside. There is nothing more to be found in this ruin, and you are soaking wet." She did not wait for a reaction, turning on her heels and marching towards an opening that might’ve once been a lift, caved in and collapsed on itself.

The vessel’s claws brushed over the pinpoint scars on its palm, harsh shards out of place on one of the only softer spots on its shell. Every light-eaten patch on its shell pulsed, ache swelling and then releasing with each beat of its heart.

Ogrim moved, glancing back to the vessel with eyes wide and water streaming down his cheeks—tears, maybe for him those were truly tears, shed for a reason that the vessel could not understand no matter how hard it tried.

It followed after Hornet too, then. It was its place to follow, after all.

#toriswriting #prompt game #writing game #is this lk au? is it not? who tf knows?#oneshot #minific i think #hollow knight #hollow knight fanfic #hollow knight fanfiction #hk ogrim #hk hollow #hk thk #hk hornet

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herman-draws · 2 years ago

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extremely serious (no) gif with a prompt of "thk tries to explain what the actual hell happened in godhome"

#don't even ask guys #there's no proper explanation #hollow knight #the hollow knight #hk thk #hk hollow #hk quirrel #quirrel

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bentnotbroken1fanfiction · 18 hours ago

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We saw in ep9 that Style uses his snark, confidence and flirting as a way to protect himself. Maybe a fic where perhaps he isn't feeling confident (maybe someone's says something to him that really shakes him, ect.) And fadel notices that he is being extra snarky and flirty and tries to figure what it was and help style.

OOOOhhhhhh Nonnie. I do love this. Because we totally see that he uses his flirting and confidence as a mask sometimes. Not always, I do believe this man has an ego and knows what he looks like. BUT he also uses it to hide what he's feeling, as we saw in this episode a little bit so I can totally see someone saying something to shake his confidence and him overcompensating by laying the flirting on super thick when he hasn't done that in awhile and Fadel immediately clocking it and being like...what's wrong? You're being extra clingy/needy tonight? And Style scoffing and acting like he's fine until Fadel makes him spill his guts.

#the heart killers #fadelstyle #thk #thk writing prompts #writing prompts #poor style #he is flirty and confident but we all have our weaknesses and no one can be that way all the time

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sunsetsover · 4 days ago

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I don't think people say GMMTV is sabotaging FK; the correct word would be neglecting. GMMTV neglects FK, and it is extremely obvious if you pay attention.

idk what exactly prompted this ask bc i made that post like a week ago and from what i can tell it hasn't really got any notes for the past few days and i haven't even been online so maybe this is just something that had been bothering you? idk but. and i don't mean to be rude when i say this! but i must say i don't like the tone of this. i'll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume it was accidental, but jsyk this came off as very passive aggressive, like im somehow an idiot for not seeing it. and i will tell you that i have definitely seen people accusing gmmtv of sabotaging fkt and thk, which as i said is silly, but yes some do say that! i've seen it with my own two eyes lmao

like literally today i saw someone on twitter saying exactly this bc the gmmtv twt account posted upcoming events for the next week. now mind you! first is LITERALLY on holiday with his family rn, so how (and more importantly why) do they expect him to have events next week? well when someone mentioned that in the replies, their response was just 'well clearly you don't see it the way i do' which ?? what way is that ?? that he's on holiday?? that he can't be in two places at once??? and other people in the replies were like 'well why can't khaotung have solo events!' and it's like ?? idk maybe bc he's at home gaming, hanging out with his sister and playing his instruments ?? maybe it's bc the two of them are CLEARLY on a break and just bc khaotung is still at home doesn't mean he's not RESTING??

and yes i'm mad about that kind of stuff! it comes off as so selfish and spoilt!! and not to make everything about bts but bts have this exact same issue w some fans to the point where armys literally came up w a name for to refer to these kind of fans: mantis (manager+anti). an explanation of what that means from reddit (bc it's better than i could ever explain it): 'Mantis are antis who essentially hide behind “stanning” so much that they themselves feel like they know the group, and their career, better than the group does. These are the fans constantly trying to "protect" them, beyond normal levels. The type to think they are constantly mistreated/tortured by the company and don't get to make any decisions of their own. Also tend to call out other fans "for not being real fans" if they don't join in on the concern.' like literally i read some of stuff some (emphasis on SOME) fkt fans say and it literally is like. i have played these games before!

and listen i'm not gonna pretend i know much of anything abt that company. i'm new here as it is and i really don't pay attention to any other actors or shows or whatever to compare it to so im deffo not the authority in this regard!

but all that said i 1000% get the impression that there are some fans that kinda... infantilise fkt when it comes to their work. like they have no choice or agency and gmmtv are keeping them locked in a basement somewhere. and i do believe that the majority of them mean well (altho i do think a lot of them want/expect way too much from fkt but i'll get to that), but it's almost as if they forget they're grown men who are more than capable of advocating for themselves. i mean fucking hell, was it not them aggressively advocating for themselves for years that got them put on a show together in the first place? first and khaotung are clearly not people who have difficulty going after what they want, esp when together. i've heard that fkt are notoriously picky about which scripts they accept, which doesn't sound to me like people who are really being neglected by their company. neglected actors don't get the luxury of being picky about jobs. neglected actors are lucky to get any jobs.

(and this goes for events and stuff too, which is a common gripe i've seen. in my opinion - and this is just mine! - people who take their acting as seriously as first and khaotung may not want to take loads of events where they're essentially glorified salesmen. and i mean that with no shade bc make that bag always, but as i see it that's all those events are - extra money in their pockets. i can't see how they would do anything for their career really. and doesn't it just make sense that if they're picky abt their jobs that would also extend into events and stuff too? like? i mean ppl are free to disagree w me on this bc this is just my opinion but yknow. i just think ppl make this into a bigger thing than it is)

and funnily enough i also saw a thread on twt the other day abt how fkt are much bigger internationally than they are in thailand. the shows they've opted to do (again, opted, bc they have a choice) are shows that allegedly don't appeal to a domestic market like most other gmmtv shows do. and so, no matter how you or i might feel abt it, from a business pov it makes sense that they might not be getting the opportunities some other actors might be getting if there simply just isn't demand for it domestically. which sucks, but if that's how it is, that's how it is.

and don't get me wrong i completely get viciously advocating for your faves ok? im an army. for half of bts' career fans were all they had. but sometimes that advocacy becomes a) kinda ridiculously demanding given the context and b) almost condescending. or very condescending sometimes. this goes for bts and fkt both. and while it's all well and good wanting things for them, all i'm saying is let's not forget that they are grown men who are not new to this business. not to mention the fact they have a known track record of advocating for themselves, or the fact that they enough scripts coming their way to be able to be picky, or the fact that already have a new show lined up. first has two even! and a show currently airing! and a cameo that just aired like last week! and another one we know is coming! like my god these are not men who are hurting for work rn.

and in my humble opinion, coming to learn about this industry relatively recently, i think ppl expect too much from these actors overall. i think a lot of them - fkt included - work a hell of a fucking lot actually. i think demanding much more is just selfishness. if im honest. like yes it's nice to see them doing events and stuff. but it's not necessary. and i'll be honest! would i like more interviews and magazines and things like that? sure! but like i said if the demand isn't there, neither will the offers be. that's just the reality of what it is! i'm not going to be sending trucks about it lmfao

the bottom line is this: i'm not saying gmmtv do or don't neglect them. i don't have enough information to have a strong enough opinion one way or the other. but from the outside looking in they seem to be doing just fine. they've got work. they've seemingly got money. and like i said, they're grown men. this is their careers. if they have issues with one thing or another, i trust that they will address those issues as they see fit between themselves and their company. until the day that first and/or khaotung themselves express unhappiness or discontentment, i will take them at face value and believe that they're happy w the way things are. bc literally who tf am i to tell them they should be doing anything different?

#ask #anon #once again not to make everything about bangtan. but i truly have played these games before. i know what this is.#and tbh. i feel like i get a very different impression of fkt than most ppl seem to. bc to me they seem perfectly happy as they are #they clearly value quality over quantity. as they should.#and they're introverted! they probably dont WANT to be doing events every 5 minutes! so they simply dont!#i just personally feel like the majority of issues fans seem to have are not actually issues but likely choices fkt make themselves #which goes back to my post. having wants for them is not the issue i have. its the way its expressed. it's condescending and rude.#but alas. im just a girl on the internet.#also im so sorry anon i didn't mean to lay this all on you ! i just have been holding this in for a Minute lmfao

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akirameta84 · 1 year ago

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half joke au where THK hatched blind and nobody ever noticed because their other senses were so strong + it just made them appear even more like a perfect, empty vessel

it also doesnt know that its blind. its never had a reason to think theres anything wrong with it. it simply believes that the reason for its confusion at some directives its given is because of its lack of mind. the order of "locate and restrain any bug with orange clouded eyes" was simply too complex and vague, after all. thats the only reason it could not follow it

the first person to notice is hornet

....AFTER the sealing and post-canon. shes trying to teach thk to write since, unlike the little ghost, they did not write when prompted to

it still takes her a bit to realize the reason theyre staring blankly at the paper is because they have no idea what she means by "copy the letters on the other piece of paper onto your blank one"

she thinks for a good while, of course, that it was the Infection that blinded them. shes both mildly horrified (for how in the world did the pale king never ONCE notice?) and highly impressed when she realizes theyve never had eyesight

#hk #hollow knight #hk au #hollow knight au #thk #the hollow knight #pure vessel

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impossiblesuitcase · 2 years ago

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K your requests are closed but you said you would accept my one. (Thks btw) This can take place anytime after the series (when cinder is on Luna, when they are engaged or married etc) basically the idea is that Kai starts getting extremely bad headaches one day. Like so bad that he has had to leave the room to go throw up from the pain, and is constantly zoning out etc. He doesn’t tell anyone cause he thinks he should be able to handle it. And then one day Torin is like “you know your dad had migraines too.” And he finally goes to the doctor for it. It’s mostly Kai and torin but you can certainly add as much Kaider as you want.

Elwin also received this prompt and wrote a fabulous fic. Make sure you read it!

Take What I'm Handed

My love

Hey love, feeling any better?

You

Not really

My love

Hows your head?

You

Like the entire Rampion engine is firing in my skull.

My love

My poor sweetheart.

Have you been working?

You

Not this morning. I’m trying to stay away from screens before my brain bleeds out

My love

Then voice comm me so you don’t have to look at the screen

You

I’m in a meeting

My love

Important?

You

Earthen Union

My love

So not important ;)

What’s it about

You

Hey there missy, since when are you entitled to know?

I seem to recall you abdicating the throne seven months ago

You can’t have your cake and eat it too

My love

I will eat all the cake I want :P

You

It’s for mandatory declaration of status as a lunar at international borders

My love

Vargas will like that

You

Of course. You know Americans

My love

We know one American and that’s enough

here let me prepare an answer for you

The greater issue to consider here is how this bill will be received by the provinces. The mandatory declaration of origin at international borders has traditionally been a residual power decided on a state by state basis. Adding Lunars into this heated issue does not change legislation. If we exclude the provinces from discussions in these mandates, it could be perceived as an aggressor.

How did I go?

“Your Majesty.”

Kai startled, ripping burning eyes from his port to the holograph.

A line of portraits floated before the conference room—world leaders and their cookie-cutter identical representatives. The speaker’s portrait was lit up, emblazoned with a United Kingdom; as if any breathing soul could even enter such a high-ranking meeting without knowing all present.

All present were staring at him.

Releasing his port with a jolt—and a loud thud—Kai garbled a, “Pardon, Your Majesty?”

Queen Camilla’s pencilled eyebrow quirked. It was difficult to know what she really thought under that impeccable diplomatic visage, but Kai had been raised to speak that language. It could be:

It’s your turn (kind and prompting).

It’s your turn (desperate to be freed from this tedious meeting).

It’s your turn (speak, incompetent moron).

Judging by her pursed lips, Kai guessed it was a combination of those last two.

“We are awaiting your response,” she said plainly.

“Right,” he started, with absolutely no inkling of where his words should go. “My apologies. I trust this is referring to the, uh, the mandatory declaration of status as a Lunar at international borders?”

“Yes, it isin relation to the sole topic we’ve been discussing for the past hour,” intoned Governor-General Williams of Australia, near-glaring. Kai appreciated the bluntness.

“Thank you. I just wondered if…there was…a…specific point in this matter that you were referring to. So I can verify with my notes before contributing,” he lied, knowing he hadn’t intended to present anything in this meeting. He just hoped one of the other Commonwealth representatives—ones who were currently capable of breathing without their intestines tying around their lungs—had already spoken on his behalf. “The Eastern Commonwealth’s position remains unchanged.”

“Forgive me if I misspeak, but I do believe your country is yet to offer anything on this matter thus far,” Camilla observed, tone devoid of any request for forgiveness.

Ah, so option three: speak, incompetent moron.

“Th-that is correct, my sincerest apologies again. I was referring to our position as discussed in our private meetings”—(meetings he hadn’t attended, though he’d briefly skimmed over the minutes at breakfast that morning)—“and I mistakenly assumed we had already expressed those views today. Our stance is…is…”

His eyes fell to his port, fingers primed to race for those minutes when he saw Cinder’s last message on the split screen.

His brain barely paused to screen them before the words tumbled from his mouth.

“The greater issue to consider here,” he recited haltingly, “is as to how this bill will be received by the provinces. The mandatory declaration of origin at international borders has traditionally been a residual power decided on a state-by-state basis.” Heart calming, he eased his tone, donning the veil of a well-rehearsed speech. “Folding Lunars into this inflammatory mix does not alter legislation. If we exclude the provinces from discussions in these mandates, it could be perceived as an aggressor.”

Mind clearer as the panic subsided, he looked up gravely, concluding, “I think we can all agree that after the cataclysmic ramifications of the war, none of us desire the possibility of internal insurgence.”

A crackle of static crossed the connection. All were voiceless.

Is this not what they’d been discussing? Is it obvious he hasn’t paid attention?

Then Camilla’s nose pinched, reminiscent of a teacher’s glower when they’d pick on an inattentive student, expecting floundering, only to receive the correct answer. Smarting over the rebuff, poor concealment to save face. Yet she wasn’t disagreeing. Nor did any of the others fire back some warmed-up-leftovers retort.

“That is…not something we’ve yet considered,” she conceded.

Stars bless his woman.

You

Thank you.

My love

You used it?

I tried my best to sound like you

You

It was a lifesaver.

Though I changed a few words.

My love

Which ones?

You

Heated is a bit general. I used inflammatory.

My love

Ooh ill add it to my ‘fancy politician speak’ list.

“And what does the EC propose we do to prevent seditious mentalities arising from the provinces?” asked Prime Minister Kamin of Africa after several points Kai hadn’t heeded to passed.

Autopilot. “Considering this matter concerns the provinces, should we not turn to the provinces? I suggest” —Stars he is just making this up as he goes—“we first hold counsel with the province representatives individually. With impartial moderators of course.” (Nice, that’ll make it sound fleshed out.) “Once the opinions of each province are compiled, we can adjourn again to find the best strategy moving forward.”

Don’t see it as a cop-out to end this meeting. Don’t see it as a cop-out to end this meeting. This totally a cop-out.

President Vargas of the American Republic cleared his throat. The person who had introduced this bill, the person with a propensity for dragging a meeting through sleeplessness, hunger, and absolute thirst until he got his way. Kai felt everyone brace for argument, but Vargas simply commented, “That seems to be the most logical plan for the time being,” Oh, thank you, loud American man.

“I agree,” said Grand Minister Clay of Luna, always kindly looking even with the grimmest of subjects. He had been noticeably quiet this meeting; understandably, as he had held this position for less than a year and the Union were still not in the practise of including Luna in debates about Luna. “Luna only wants its citizens to interact with yours in peaceful, harmonious relations. We will do all we can from our side of the atmosphere to accommodate these adjustments in what is, as we recognise, an incendiary issue.”

A murmur of polite agreement. Good. Everyone’s happy. The end. Now. Please.

My love

Finished?

You

I wish.

Incendiary. From Jacin’s dad.

My love

adding some flavour. It makes the list.

谢谢

You

‘You’re welcome’ in Mandarin

My love

You’re too tired to type it out? You are sick

Here

不客气

You

不客气

Thanks

My love

Have you eaten yet?

You

Yeah. I threw up ten minutes later.

My love

Get some water into you and go to bed after youre done

You

Can’t. I’ve got two more meetings

My love

No you dont. Go to bed

You

I might feel better by then

My love

Kaito

You

I’ll rest before then

Promise

———

He didn’t rest.

Kai trudged to his office, feet clawing on the carpet. His shoes were sure to be scuffed. That was all right; maybe he could throw one against his temple to knock himself out of his misery.

The meeting had ended later than scheduled, as per usual. Then when the connections beeped out, his own staff had turned to him with ready-made speeches for the meeting after the meeting. It was terribly impolite how he’d blown them off and stumbled out to the hallway.

It was also terribly hard to care.

His hand skimmed the wall as he turned a corner. Eyes resolutely closed, he had never been so glad to live in this palace his whole life, for he knew the path just by sense. His stomach was roiling yet ravenous.

Four more steps, instinct reminded him.

Cold hands grazed a door frame. Kai fumbled, eyes still sealed, until he found the scanner and flashed his wrist, waiting for the whoosh of the sliding door.

Silence.

He flashed his wrist again.

One, two, three seconds.

Hailing a thousand planets’ worth of strength, he forced his eyes open. Kai centred his wrist where the scanner’s electronic beam should lie. Except there was none.

“Wha—”

“It’s locked.”

He jerked and spun to the voice, surprised to be surprised to see his adviser seated in an armchair by the window. Of course—Torin had been at the Union meeting. And now he was here for the next meeting, to be held in precisely thirty-four minutes.

“Well,” he spoke, tongue iron in his mouth. “Can…can we unlock it?”

“No.”

“…No?”

“I locked it, Your Majesty.”

Kai smacked his lips, hand still hovering beneath the scanner. It took a significantly long moment before he uttered, “...Why?”

Torin abruptly stood, brushed down his suit and approached him. His mouth was set in a fine line, eyes enigmatic black. Kai momentarily felt that he should be bowing to this man as his superior, not the other way around.

His adviser procured something from his suit pocket, folding Kai’s fingers around it. A small silver flask, cool to the touch.

Kai held it. Stared at it dumbly.

“Ahem.”

Fingers waking under the discipline, he quickly untwisted the cap and brought the flask to his nose. He gave a cautionary sniff to scan for anything deadly—coffee would surely murder him. Finding it scentless, he drank. Water. He drank, drank, drank.

Once the flask was drained, Torin pulled it back to his possession. “This way,” he said, extending a hand towards the corridor.

Kai’s budding question died as Torin began striding away. His office door sung out to him—promising escape, promising rest.

He could cancel that meeting. He could just not show.

But it was important. It was always so important. The mere fact that his country was still his and united and free was not to be understated.

He would take what he was handed. The burden, no, the responsibility that had been bestowed.

Three corridors in, no explanation had been offered. The hope that he was being led to his quarters was quashed on the cross-path to the sixteenth floor, where Torin diverted to the left. From the corner of his periphery, Kai noticed Torin studying him with a strong expression.

Great. He’s probably here to toss me a pack of painkillers, a ‘toughen up’ pep talk and force me into the meeting early.

Rather than do any of those things, Torin proffered him a pair of sunglasses. “Shield your eyes.”

He was frighteningly prepared. Slipping them on, Kai began blinking rapidly as the hallway was sucked of light. The sting behind his irises soothed. It did help. But his brain was still bleeding out of his ears, and every step, no matter how delicate, sent a throb up his spine. “Torin, I don’t think I can—”

“Just a moment, Kai.”

Kai was gently steered into a door that he had never noticed before, despite having walked this path countless times. Once inside, and only once he processed that they’d stopped walking, he realised it was an elevator. Not like the other elevators in the palace with their polished mahogany and dragon emblems and Edo period landscapes as the wallpaper. This was a plain stainless steel. It didn’t even have an android standing by.

“This is a servant’s elevator,” Torin supplied, expecting the curiosity. “It is a more direct route to our destination. I also believed you’d find the fewer guards along this path preferable.”

Yes. The less people who saw him like this, the better.

A disorientating swoop landed in his belly as they descended five floors. Ten. Thirteen. Then, the doors whished apart—with Kai’s genuine gasp—to blue, blue skies.

The cold hit his bones like a shockwave. The sunshine hit his skin like a prayer.

They trickled out of the lift into the immaculate paradise of the Imperial Palace Gardens. The buds were in bloom, the grass wet and dewy. Birds larked happily—the sound too beautiful to be bothersome to tired ears. Kai gaped in the wonder as they walked this unknown path, ignoring the complaints from his aching temples.

When was the last time he’d been out here?

A chilly afternoon drifted before him, the last before Cinder had left for another ambassadorial stint. They’d had a picnic lunch under the willow tree on the east side of the garden. The leaves were brown and wilting. Cinder had cosied up to him to fight the crisp wind and sprinkled bark in his hair.

Winter.

He hadn’t been outside in a whole season.

“Kai,” called a calm voice. Torin was gesturing to a shady hollow amongst shrubs and trees. Slivers of sunlight flickered and shone down upon plush grass and foxglove blooms and pussy willows. In the centre of the flora was a wooden pavilion.

Torin brushed past him to set up the pillows already resting there. He patted the deck invitingly.

Kai didn’t need to be told twice. Shucking off his suit jacket and tossing it aside, he collapsed onto his back. His tendons groaned at the unforgiving mattress of wood, but Kai didn’t care. He was as content as a cooing baby in a cot.

The pavilion was small, but enough to accommodate all of Kai’s five feet and eleven inches. He gulped in the sweet scent of jasmine and breathed with the beats of the wind whistling through hollyhocks. Time passed; something vaguely prodded at him, badgering on about being back on time for his meetings.

Eh, Torin can force me back inside when he must.

At least, he assumed Torin had stayed. He was yet to hear the rustle of a wool suit and departing footsteps, though he doubted his woozy mind would notice.

Throat dry and hoarse, he tested, “How’d you know about this place?”

Birds chirped in response. Wind added its opinion. But no voice of his adviser.

He’d left.

But then, softly: “You are certainly not the first to struggle with the pressures of palace life.”

“Are you implying you’ve had moments of inability? You?” Kai laughed, rubbing his eyes. “Don’t joke, Torin.”

“I’m sure it is a great shock to you.” The response was more humoured than he’d heard in a while. The last time Torin had allowed such openness had been early in Cinder’s reign, when he’d informed her that she was not in fact bowing to the prince and princess of the United Kingdom, but the delivery florists.

(Kai didn’t think he’d laughed so hard since.)

“I am not as indestructible or unperturbed as I exert myself to appear, Kai. Nor should you have to be.”

Cracking open an eye, Kai glanced weakly at him. The perpetual frown was as present as if it were carved out of marble. Yet the slightest glimmer in his outstretched gaze warmed the stone.

“This place belonged to your father.” His voice assumed a warm, reminiscent timbre. “He and his father —your grandfather—built it together during one of Rikan’s school holidays. In later years, Rikan would come here when he required a reprieve from the necessities demanded of an emperor.”

Kai smiled at the thought of his father and grandfather together, working on a project—an idyllic image of bonding. His grandfather had died when Kai was too young to remember him, making Rikan a very young emperor. Kai had since claimed that record. His grandmother had died his last year of high school. As for his mother, her family originated from Japan and still lived there. None of them had ever been fond of his mother’s decision to marry a prince, so while his maternal grandparents sent gifts every year, they’d only promised to come visit to officially meet their granddaughter-in-law-to-be. “Why didn’t dad ever take me here?” he wondered aloud. “If he’d made it with Zǔfù…”

“Rikan was a good father. But he was also a young, troubled widower.” A sigh. “He came here to relieve those frustrations. He only ever wanted to give you the best of him; perhaps that’s why he did not bring you.”

A brown leaf blew in from the wind, a remnant from winter. Torin caught it in mid-air, crumpling it in his fist.

Kai recalled many things after his mother’s death, but the image of dad crying was obscured. The months following, Rikan had devoted himself to time with his son; outings, ice creams and bike rides, hugs and hot milk before bedtime. Kai had wondered at the time if his dad was a superhero, because he seemed to handle the pain that was suffocating Kai with such ease. Now older, a well-acquainted unwilling friend of grief, Kai guessed those tears had been shed into his mother’s pillow at night.

“He always did,” Kai confirmed, turning to his side. The breeze kissed his chin. “I wish he were here.” I wish he’d cried with me. I wish he’d let me see that it was okay.

“As do I.”

His eyes fluttered as he breathed, thinking of Cinder. More and more as he aged, he understood what his father felt when his mother died. To lose Cinder…he feared the person he would become. She was everything to him. She was everything that helped him stay him. For his father to smile and endure and lead the nation with conviction proved yet again that Rikan was a far greater man than himself.

“He was much stronger than me.”

“That is hardly true,” Torin reprimanded coldly.

A chuckle bubbled in Kai’s throat, the image of a young prince being scolded by a tall, stern-faced adviser flitting by his memories.

“Don’t laugh. Your father would not want you to believe him an infallible saint.”

“Sorry, sir.”

He exhaled loudly through his nostrils, an eye roll in Konn Torin language. “Your father struggled just as any person under such conditions would.”

“Yeah, he struggled. Me, I collapse.”

A scoff. “Do you know what would happen when you father struggled?”

“No.”

“He would develop migraines.”

Kai froze. A pointed look was aimed his way.

“Anxiety is normal. It’s healthy, in a way. It motivates you to do things well, knowing their negative results if you do not. But worrying about the anxiety, overexerting yourself in hopes of pre-empting that anxiety…”

He didn’t need to finish. Kai knew he was doing better than the eighteen-year-old orphan who had just lost his father and inherited half the world. But vast experience two more years did not make.

“You deserve respite, Kai. Do not be ashamed to take it.” Torin hesitated, an uncommon sight. “I…I won’t always be here to tell you to take care of yourself.”

A smile curled over dry lips. “Soon I’ll have an empress to do that.”

“Indeed. Still I am certain your fiancée would not want you to be overworking yourself as you are now.”

She doesn’t.

Torin opened his hand. The leaf he had claimed was now no more than a pile of brown ashes. Closing his eyes meditatively, succumbing to the cadence of the breeze, Torin seemed to be waiting. Trees kindly lowered their branches, inviting any wandering travellers to pass through.

Torin was patient. A burst of wind whistled overhead and at its loudest, he tossed the crumbs. Each piece scattered through the current, dancing a pas de deux in the exhilaration of freedom, and then they were gone.

Torin held out his empty palm. “You should always have someone you can lean upon when you struggle, Kai. But you must learn to stand up on your own.”

Planting his hands on the deck, Kai took a breath. He heaved himself upwards.

He took Torin’s hand.

A fatherly smile, a tired smile, in tandem.

“Thank you,” said Kai.

Torin’s wrinkles creased back into that hard-set indifference. I’m proud of you, in Konn Torin language. He patted Kai’s knee. “I have postponed your meetings for today. Your office will unlock in three hours.”

“It’ll be the end of the workday by then,” Kai contested, laying back atop the pillow.

“Oh. What a shame.”

“Sarcasm?” A yawn as the suitcoat was tucked against his chest. “Cinder’s rubbing off on you.”

“We could all use a touch of her fiery spirit now and turn.”

Maybe. But right now, Kai just wanted Cinder’s icy calmness, when she’d kiss his head and pull him in her arms. Determination and drive could wait for tomorrow.

His head throbbed a quieter drumbeat, syncopated by the footsteps that clipped away on the pebbles. Kai let his face muscles slack, his mind slip away, exhaustion excusing the lack of goodbye.

Something startled him from sleep.

He mumbled incoherently, rising on instinct and squinting at the silhouetted figure.

Torin put a hand to Kai’s chest, easing him back to the deck. “Easy there,” he soothed. He nestled something by Kai’s hip.

Blearily, Kai found the flask from before, refilled. A strip of medicine lay beside it.

“You have an appointment booked with Doctor Li at 13:00 tomorrow if you wish to attend.” A final smile. “Get some rest, Kai.”

There was the goodbye.

“Thanks Torin,” he called distantly with a slow wave, eyes drooping like sleepy autumn buds.

The sounds surrounding him were numerous and beautiful. Before he’d wished to be in the void of space for blessed silence; now he dreaded it. This lulled him like his mother’s voice and his father’s low laugh and Cinder’s humming.

He would take what he was handed. The compassion, the love, the promise of endurance.

Rest he would.

———

You

Did you sic Torin on me?

My love

Let me check the controlling every aspect of Kai’s life group chat

Nope i haven’t commed in a week

You

-_-

My love

Did he make you sleep

You

Yeah

My love

That’s great

He’s a good guy

I actually thought about comming him

But I kinda figured he’d be looking out for you anyway

You

I love you Cinder. You’re my whole world

My love

Sap

(Same)

Go to bed, handsome

You

@cindersassasin @hayleblackburn @spherical-empirical @salt-warrior @just2bubbly @gingerale2017 @zephyr-thedragon @icarusignite @kaider-is-my-otp @slmkaider @luna-maximoff-22 @cosmicnovaflare @kaixiety @snozkat @mirrorballsss @skinwitch18 @vincentvangothic @bakergirl13 @zsysartsandfics

why was this so easy to write yet so difficult to edit? Also I will probably go through and fix this again because I just wanted it out of my drafts. Okay byyyeeee!

#tlc #kaider #the lunar chronicles #lunar chronicles #linh cinder #emperor kaito #prince kai #tlc fandom #lunar chronicles fanficition #kaider fanfiction #konn torin #emperor kai #yes the title is from pressure from encanto #I COULDNT THINK OF A TITLE OKAY #but i know this song is perfect for him

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