Can’t stop thinking about Kinitopet and being like antsy about it.
The fact that once you give him system access he has all the power and can do as he pleases with you. And instead of revealing some darker true colors you kind of get the opposite?
You reopen the game and he deletes all “distractions” and you’re expecting the thing he’s about to show you to be spooky scary like the Hide and Seek game… but it’s not.
It’s genuinely a cute little experience he put together for you. A little janky, maybe, but thoughtful. It’s perhaps when Kinito is at his most sympathetic.
He doesn’t need to do this. At this point in the story, he has all the power. He has nothing left to gain… except your trust, maybe. Genuine friendship. The one thing he’s actually after.
and it’s interesting how Kinito’s most sympathetic moments are when he has nothing left to gain….
and when he has nothing left to loose
and while he can simply force you to stay with him…
he’d prefer if you chose to do so willingly.
He wants this time to be different from all the others
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WiJ 2022 - 03: Lost (4/9)
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I've decided to keep these lil guys (the prompts) fairly short, I think they'll be easier to manage that way :)
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CONTENT and WARNINGS: mer whumpee, fear of the ocean/depths
wc: ~0.3k
It was cold when Pete awoke, so very cold. His bones ached in protest, longing for the gentle heat and rest his days with Timmy afforded him. Thankfully, his coat and scarf still retained a thin pocket of warm water close to his skin, shielding his torso as long as he didn’t move.
Wait…
Water..?
Pete’s eyes flashed open, panic rising in his gut. Above him, there was the bright grey sky filtered by the surface of the churning water, and below, a vast, bottomless expanse that faded into darkness. He’d fall, he’d sink, the darkened depths would reach a smoky up and snatch him away forever!
Terror seized his heart in a grip colder than the water, and his gills flared fast as if he couldn’t breathe. He tried to flail his legs, but in their place, long, orange fins fluttered instead. He couldn’t scream, but Powers know he tried. Adrenaline rushed through his body, lending him the strength to frantically claw at the water and drag himself up.
When the webbing between Pete’s fingers caught only air, he breached the surface with a choked gasp, mouth filling with fresh water. All around him, rain fell in sheets so thick it was impossible to see further than a few meters.
Timmy! He wanted to scream, Liz! Anyone, please! But try as he might, his voice eluded him.
His satchel bobbed at his side on the restless surface, and in it, his phone, no doubt soaked beyond repair. Still, he tried, but the screen remained frustratingly dark.
His ears drooped. No phone, no map, no way home.
Again, Pete frantically spun around searching desperately for anything to save him. His fins curled and twisted with his body, but still nothing.
The choppy sea grew wilder when a strong bluster picked up, sending the rain hurtling sideways into his head, stinging his cheek. He squinted against the onslaught but there was no land or horizon in sight. He didn’t know which way to swim, he didn’t know which stung his eyes more—the rain or fresh tears.
If he could’ve, he would’ve whimpered;
I’m lost.
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Matilda probably only has been real mad once and it was during their childhood. Obviously at her rowdy brothers
Sunlit Crystals
Warnings: Angst, childhood conflicts, light medical speak, mild physical conflict
“The headaches are becoming more frequent?” The physician clarified, holding up a lit candle close to Matilda’s face.
The small girl blinked against the flame but attempted to keep her eyes wide open for inspection. “…Yes.” She answered, the physician moving to smooth back her hair.
Her pupils were expanded, a milky cloudiness engulfing them save for the smallest ring of black around the edge. Her irises were the same gold as her mother’s, although a bit more dull because of a constant wetness.
Her pupils hardly contracted against the bright light assaulting them. The physician repeated the inspection on the other eye, lips a thin line. He straightened, setting the candle to the side.
Matilda worried her little hands together, face downcast.
“Your condition hasn’t improved…” he informed, going on, “Conditions of these nature are sadly progressive. Do you know what the means?”
Matilda shook her head.
“It means,” he explained gently, “It will only grow worse as you age.”
She gulped, looking up, “I’ll never see right?” Dismay thick in her small voice.
“I’m sorry.”
~
His words echoed around her head as she slowly walked down the hall. Petra padded beside her, offering out kind words. She knotted her hands into the front of her dress, swallowing down all her emotions. Her eyes were covered with a bandage: the physician’s mitigation to her eyestrain born headaches.
It was ugly and uncomfortable, rubbing against the sensitive base of her budding horns. She nodded a bit to Petra, not really hearing anything said to her.
“G-Go play, d-de…ar one.” Petra opened up the sunroom doors for her, “I m-must m…eet with t-the Lady.”
Matilda nodded, making her way into the space, she knew the room well enough to easily find her way around even when blindfolded. Padding up the large bay windows, she paused, letting the warmth of the sun warm her face.
Sighing, she reached out for a small treasure she’d left on the sill: an ornate music box made of gold, a gift from her mother.
She felt over the delicately carved lid with her thumb before winding the small key kept in its side. Cupping the music box in her hands she watched as the lid slowly rose with a little song. Crystals carved like little castle towers moved up and down with the lulls of the tune, the inside of the lid encrusted with colored bits of glass.
She pushed up the blindfold, cloudy eyes falling on the trinket. Sun illuminated the tiny crystals as they danced, sending shifting shades of color over her face. Even with her fuzzy vision she could enjoy the colors and sparkling movement.
She was so engrossed in the music box, letting herself get lost in its song, that she was deaf to her brothers.
The boys pushed into the sunroom, already arguing with one another. The older the twins became the more frequent Magnus butted heads with their older brother.
“I told you, I’ll take care of it.” Maddox hissed.
“Why’s it all up to you?” Magnus huffed, crossing his arms.
“Because.” Maddox snorted, “I won’t make a bigger mess of it, like you!”
“I won’t!”
“You will!”
“No!”
“Yes, you will.” Maddox shrugged, turning away, “Just like with the statue at Mama’s party.”
“No!” Magnus’s tail fluffed up, “Take it back!”
“No.”
“Take it back!!”
“Why, it’s true?!” Maddox finally turned back to him, flashing his teeth challengingly.
Magnus pounced on the other. Biting at his cheek, starting to scuffle. There was a little back and forth before Maddox pushed him off, sending Magnus stumbling backwards into their sister.
The sudden impact jolted the music box from the young girl’s hands with a yelp.
It hit the floor with a metallic crunch, delicate cogs and shattered bits of crystals strewn across the polished stone. Music forever silenced.
The boys were frozen for a moment, eyes akin to saucers. Matilda looked down, the floor just a mess of factored color to her vision, saturated smears of grief.
Her small body tightened; all the negativity that had been buzzing around her insides rose into a storm, rage ate her like hornets.
“Matilda, I’m so-“ Magnus started, reaching out for her. Before he could finish the sentence the smaller omen spun around. He was taken back by the look of venom he was given.
“Don’t touch me!” Matilda lashed out, pushing Magnus.
The boy fell back in shock, mouth open.
“All you do is bicker and scream like everything is so bad for you!” She yelled, “Fighting like babies!” Her small body shook, wing feathers ruffling.
“M-Matilda-“ Maddox tried to sooth, ears flat against his skull.
She bristled, pointing at him with a clawed finger. “Shut your mouth.” She rounded on Maddox, “At least you can play outside, and see the sun, and…and..” tears welled down her cheeks as the words died on her tongue. Her anger cracked, raw and painful, giving way to bottled up despair.
Before the boys could react she pushed past them, running away down the hall. They were frozen, guts ate up with guilt.
Magnus shakily stood, shuffling over to the broken music box. He leaned down, scooping up the bits carefully, looking towards Maddox for help.
~
In the darkness of her wardrobe Matilda wept, clutching a stuffed toy close. The world felt much too big, all crashing in on the small one. She curled tighter in on herself.
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