#Naturally he wants to teach his daughter how to ALSO fight dirty :)

[elf-simp]

04: Clash (liliturgy prompt list)

"You have much to learn, child. Trickery should be expected from every angle. Now come, stand and ready yourself once more."

[tobiasdrake]

Here we go. It's time to talk about my personal fave. As I said before, this is my Main. In Dragon Ball fighting games, this is the character I seek out to play whenever the roster allows. Also arguably the character who's been done the most dirty by just about every form of Dragon Ball, manga included.

The vanguard of a brand new status quo and a brand new direction for what Dragon Ball would even be, washed away by the tides of a status quo resetting to zero.

We're here to talk about the champion of Satan City who carries the spirit of Dragon Ball in her heart: Videl.

(And that is one cookie to @jcogginsa who guessed it.)

Videl was a kid with a chip on her shoulder. I mean. How could you not be? Her father was the legendary world martial arts champion who famously defeated Cell seven years ago.

Don't pay attention to that. He just tripped for a moment. Once he got his second wind, he came right back and showed Cell what for! It was due entirely to Mr. Satan and nobody else that the Earth was spared from the apocalyptic horror that is Cell.

Look, he even said so himself.

Are you gonna call that man a liar? The man who defeated Cell!? I think we can trust Satan's word over yours.

This is the shadow that Videl grew up under. Raised in what had previously been called Orange City, but was renamed Satan City in honor of the world's greatest hero.

Or "Hercule City/Herculopolis" in the versions that edit out Satan's name.

As his daughter, Videl has a perspective on Satan that neither the world nor the audience gets to see: He's a womanizing playboy who cashes in on his world-savior fame for booty.

He also forbids his teenage daughter from dating by putting up the stipulation that any boy interested in her has to be stronger than him, the world champion - A stipulation naturally designed to weed out any possible suitors through intimidation. Wanna date Videl? FISTFIGHT THE MAN WHO DEFEATED CELL.

Oh, but he doesn't teach her a goddamn thing; At least, not anymore, as she does suggest there was once a time when he was her mentor. She's forced to study martial arts entirely on her own because her dad is utterly disinterested in her development in the art.

This is an angle on Satan we never get to see onscreen. Apparently he's pretty shitty about women. You know, I can believe that.

Videl, when we meet her, is trapped in an unenviable position as a martial artist. She hates what the fame of being a legend has done to her dad and wants to knock him down a peg, but she has no foundation to develop her abilities from. The one man who's supposed to be teaching her isn't doing it, and she's been passively discouraged from pursuing more esoteric martial arts because the world champion said that stuff's all fake.

Videl makes for a fascinating foil to Gohan, because they're both children living in the shadows of legendary fathers.

Gohan is expected to be Goku's successor, but wants to live a peaceful life of academia. Meanwhile, Videl is being denied the ability to become Mr. Satan's successor, but craves the opportunity to prove herself.

Nonetheless, both of these kids are prodigies. Videl has a wealth of potential. She doesn't even realize that, despite these limitations, she surpassed her father long ago. Despite being a self-taught teenager with zero comprehension of ki cultivation, Videl hones her skills and developers her art the only way that's available to her: By punching it out with armed robbers in the region.

Backpack Town isn't even her city! She's a one-woman SWAT team for the tri-state area.

As ambitious and driven as she is, Videl is also clever. The anime extrapolates the adventures of the Great Saiyaman into a several-episode arc as Gohan deftly avoids detection by Videl over and over again, but this has the knock-on effect of depriving Videl of one of her best moments.

Because she pegs him instantly. She was already suspicious of Gohan being the mysterious "Golden Warrior", when he tried to use his Super Saiyan form to disguise himself as a superhero.

Which also showed that she was open-minded about the other people who fought Cell. Satan says they were doing a bunch of tricks, but Videl's willing to consider the possibility that there exist people who can turn blond on command.

And then Gohan did this shit.

Because he was raised in the woods by the devil and Goku. Despite trying to keep a low profile, he has absolutely no idea what the baseline for ordinary human ability is.

So. Y'know.

That's pretty fucking suspicious.

Which brings us to Gohan's second outing as Great Saiyaman, and his first meeting with Videl under his new identity. Whereupon she, uh....

Plays him like a fucking sap. It's a great moment that doesn't get its due if it takes several episodes and misadventures for her to reach this point. Videl is exceptionally skilled in the field of paying attention to that time Gohan jumped thirty feet in the air and naturally drawing conclusions from it.

And also his voice and posture and other dead giveaways. Gohan sucks at secret identities.

He's just. So obviously Gohan. There's no way anyone would be fooled by this.

But she's not only adequate at seeing things with her eyes; She's also a legitimately brilliant martial artist in her own right. Due to her upbringing, she's had zero experience with ki cultivation for obvious reasons.

And yet she's talented enough and smart enough to pick up the basics of Bukujutsu in one day.

Oh, don't mind her; That's just Videl making a mockery of Tsuru-senryu by effortlessly devouring their signature technique. This is Goku's first Kamehameha all over again.

She may have started small but Videl learns fucking fast. She has all of the drive and the ambition that Gohan lacks. She wants to be part of this world, she has a ravenous hunger for self-improvement, she's clever and observant, and she picks up concepts insanely quickly.

Videl is fucking primed to be a key player in Dragon Ball's next generation.

...

So now we need to talk about what happened to Videl.

Videl has one major fight in the entire series: Her 25th Tenkaichi Budokai bout against Spopovich.

Which she absolutely dominates. She's stronger, better, and faster than Spopovich. Even the experienced martial artists agree that she's infinity times better than him in every way.

But there's something wrong with Spopovich. He's a decent martial artist, far from the top; He'd competed in the 24th Tenkaichi Budokai and made it through the qualifiers, but was eliminated in the first round. So, y'know, he had no chance in hell against Videl; She's already surpassed Mr. Satan, who won the 24th legitimately.

Uh, by virtue of none of the Kame-senryu or their rivals attending. Mr. Satan is top dog of the same weight class as Pamput from the 22nd.

But, despite being outclassed in every category, Spopovich is also a dead man walking.

He's similar to the Androids in a sense. Spopovich has no ki signature at all, nor does he get worn down by the damage he's taking. This is Vegeta vs. 18 and Piccolo vs. 17 all over again; He isn't feeling the pain from the hits she's landing on him, and so he's able to outlast.

But Spopovich isn't an Android. He's more like a zombie?

At one point, Videl cuts loose and breaks his goddamn neck. Because he's pushing her hard enough that she realizes she needs to go harder, but his body can't take harder. He isn't a match for her. He just. Isn't going down despite not being a match for her.

He can't take this level of force. But he and his ominously vacant absence of ki can put his head right back where it was and continue the fight, no problem. That's honestly scarier than if he'd regenerated.

Also despite not even having the barebones ki signature of a normal person, Spopovich can perform Bukujutsu and fire ki attacks.

Which a fighter of his meager ability shouldn't even be capable of.

All of this adds up to an unwinnable fight for Videl and the setup to... Something. This match has been criticized pretty heavily in the fandom because it gets pretty gruesome and doesn't have a payoff.

We've seen fights go fucking bad for our heroes before. Piccolo once broke all of Goku's arms and legs as well as shooting a hole in his chest, right here in this same arena.

But it's typically building to something. When our heroes get trashed, it's the lead-up to a reversal down the road. Maybe in the same fight. Maybe in a later one. And we seem to be heading in that direction?

After Spopovich and Yamu leave the tournament, we get VIdel a Senzu and she's right as rain.

Spopovich and Yamu steal energy from Gohan and fly off to Babidi's Ship so they can awaken Majin Buu. Kaioshin recruits the various protags to make that not be a thing that happens. And then. Something switches in the narrative flow of this arc.

You can feel it happen.

As our heroes prepare to pursue Spopovich and Yamu, Videl volunteers to join in as well. She's had her eyes opened to a whole new world or possibilities and is hungry to develop her abilities.

And. Then. One chapter later. It's suddenly decided that Videl will not be a part of this storyline after all, and she basically leaves the plot forever.

WHOOPS! Never mind! Didn't want this character here after all. Go home, Videl.

While her adversary Spopovich is unceremoniously unwritten from being a thing that exists.

Babidi just. Kills him. For no reason. Even though his job isn't done yet. Babidi's like, "Oh good, you collected a fraction of the energy we need; That's fine, you can be fired. I don't need anyone to finish the job."

We're just. We're not telling that story anymore. We already threw Videl in the trash; we don't need her nemesis. We're doing a different thing.

Also, because we still have too many characters in this scene, Dabra erases Krillin and PIccolo with magic spit that never comes up again or is meaningful in any way.

You'd think this would be, like, setting up something? Like. Having witnessed it ahead of time, Gohan's able to figure out something about the way Dabra's spit works. So when he fights Dabra in a climactic battle, he can turn this around.

Like when Goku was able to counter Tenshinhan's Taiyoken/Solar Flare in the 22nd Tenkaichi Budokai, because he'd seen it before and understood how it works. That's usually what Dragon Ball does with this sort of advance notice of opponent abilities.

But. No. The most this ever comes up again is that it momentarily costs Gohan one of his gloves. It's just here to winnow down the cast because Toriyama brought too many characters to this scene.

You can feel the burnout taking hold. As janky as the Android arc was, the Buu arc's level of jank is through the roof.

And that became it for Videl. Denied any sort of payoff for her one fight and instead relegated to background character, Videl never got a chance to live up to the intriguing potential she was introduced with. She was the face of a new direction for Dragon Ball, a direction that ended up strangled in its crib as the series reverted to old ideas and old formulae - strangling her along with it.

Videl is a character I look at and can't help but wonder what could have been. What could have been if Gohan got to keep his focus, and Videl got to remain a key player in a story about him? What could have been if we got to see Videl developing her skills at the same fever-pace that she learned Bukujutsu with? What could have been if she got that rematch with Spopovich she seemed to have been promised by the narrative, and then got to stay involved throughout the Buu arc?

But I guess we'll never know.

[primevein]

The Prime of His Youth: Prime of His Youth: Book I: Forging His Own Path: Ch06: Assertion

The truck had winched up the skiff and drove away.

"What do we do now?" Arcee asked.

"Why don't you hit the carwash, and meet us back at the house?" Jack asked her.

"I don't suppose I can convince you to join me?" Arcee asked.

"There will be plenty of time for that later." Jack replied.

"I'm not sure how I feel about that." June quietly voiced.

"She will be a motorcycle." Jack argued.

"Oh, like the first time we met?" Arcee asked.

"Please don't?" Jack pleaded.

"Don't let me stop you." June simply stated.

"Oh, nothing much, he simply said I was beautiful, that he loved me, ran his hands all over my body."

"She was a motorcycle!" Jack exclaimed.

"You were very attached to that motorcycle..." June chided.

"It was my first."

"I was his first." Arcee said with a wicked smile.

"That's not..."

"Oh?" Arcee and June asked him at the same time.

"Is there anything I can say to get out of this?" Jack asked.

June sighed, "Some cultures do view joint bathing as a way to get together." She paused for a moment, "You will keep your pants on."

"Swim trunks?" Jack asked, and June sighed before nodding.

"I have heard about these swimsuits." Arcee stated. "Are you going to wear swim trunks?"

June blushed and looked away.

"Men's and women's..." Jack tried to say.

"Ah, they're different." Arcee said, "I would love to see you in one."

"I guess we will be living together." June shyly said, "And I could help you to wash..."

"Let's get home. Get clean. We can talk about what to do here tomorrow." Jack stated.

"Do you think I want to let a guy who's that dirty in my car?" June asked.

"Ha-ha. Very funny." Jack replied. "Did you want me to get a hose?"

"You would, wouldn't you?" June asked, and Jack sighed.

"Water's probably turned off..." Jack muttered.

"Alright, everyone get home." June stated, "Get clean, and tomorrow we can come out and make our plans."

Arcee stared at her for a moment. "Don't you usually have to work?"

"I have a rotating shift." June stated. "12 hour days. 2 days, 2 nights, four days off. Assuming I don't have overtime."

Arcee just looked at her as something occured to her, "Aren't Humans supposed to be asleep at night? You always demanded that Jack sleep properly."

"We have to teach our kids responsibility." June stated, and Arcee nodded.

"Well, it worked."

* * *

Arcee reverted outside the car wash, immediately thankful they didn't have to hide anymore. Once she had paid with her credit card, she transformed and drove into the touchless carwash.

* * *

Arcee dried on the drive home and pulled into the garage. June was sitting in a bathrobe with Jack stepping into the garage a moment later.

"All clean?" June asked Arcee.

"Tsk."

"Hm?" June asked.

"Jack does a better job of buffing me." Arcee simply stated.

"It's amazing how natural this feels." June stated.

"What does?" Arcee asked.

"My son's girlfriend being a transformer. Having a daughter-in-law."

"Daughter... in law?" Arcee asked.

"Your spouse's family is kind of considered kind of family." Jack simply stated.

"No kind of about it." June added. "She's done more for my son than I have..." she whistfully stated.

"Don't say that." Jack said to her.

"I wasn't there for you..." his mother tried to say.

"You were always there for me." Jack replied.

"Until you met her." June said, fighting back tears.

"Until he met me..." Arcee uttered. "But he's only the man he is today, because of you. He could not have done half of what he did without you."

"If you say so." June uttered, and wiped her eyes.

"You taught me to be responsible." Jack stated, and June nodded, "And you also did everything you could to take care of me." She once again nodded, "Which is why it's my turn to take care of you." June nodded again before it sunk into her, and she looked at him with a start. "What?" Jack asked, "With me and Arcee working, you probably won't..."

"And let my son take care of me?!" June asked.

"Let us take care of you." Arcee simply stated.

"And... what will I do?" June asked, "Be a housewife?"

"Sleep at night?" Jack asked.

"Teach me to cook." Arcee stated. "Help me with a garden."

"We'll need partial shade." Jack stated.

"Should I take up crocheting?" June asked.

"If it's a Human thing, I might like to learn it." Arcee added.

"Wash my feet like a maid servant." Jack stated, and June quickly looked in his eyes. At first the look was serious, but he quickly broke into a laugh, and her a moment later. "Whatever you want to do." Jack stated.

"And what is that?" June asked. She looked at Jack who shrugged. She then looked at Arcee, who also shrugged.

* * *

Jack unlocked the front door and walked in. He walked around and pulled the first garage door open. Arcee let June be the first one inside before coming in behind her. "So, what's the plan?" Arcee asked.

"Get rid of two of the jacks." Jack stated, "Repair the last." He then looked over at the office. If they opened it up, it would be a good place to store bikes. He turned to Arcee and his mother, "I'd like to look at the warehouse before I make any decisions."

Jack walked up to the warhouse, and paused, "We'll have to open this up." He stepped through to the warehouse. A moment later June followed him, following by Arcee crouching to get through. If they were just Humans, there would be enough room for 3 bedrooms, a living room, and kitchen. This did make it more complicated, though.

"You don't need to have me here..." June nervously stated.

"Like I said..." Jack said to her.

"I took care of you, and you want to take care of me." June said with a weak smile, "You're not even 18 yet."

"Well, almost." Jack stated.

"That still makes him a minor." Arcee stated, "Which means his mother HAS to move in with him, doesn't it?"

June stood silent for a moment. "You're sure I won't be in the way?"

"That is what the mother-in-law suite is for." Jack simply stated.

"Someone has to teach me to cook." Arcee said and paused, "And Human." she asserted.

"It's like you're trying to kidnap me." June whistfully said, and found Arcee picking her up.

"Sure?" Arcee asked.

"You worry about me, mom." Jack said to her, "And I worry about you."

"Me?" June asked from within Arcee's arms, "I'm not the one galavanting off to Cybertron."

"You are working night shift." Jack said to her.

"He did, you know, save a couple of worlds." Arcee added.

"Not by myself." Jack simply stated, and then looked at his mother, "I want to take care of you the way you deserve to be treated."

"What, like some king's concubine?" June asked.

"If that's what you want." Arcee stated.

"Do you even know what a concubine is?" Jack asked her.

"Just that June wants to be one." Arcee simply stated.

"Can you put her down?" Jack asked, and Arcee quickly moved to do so. As soon as June was on the ground, she found her son pulling her in for a powerful hug. "Fine, you want to be a concubine, you can be a concubine." he said as he let her go, "We can get you slave shifts and eunuchs."

"What's a eunuch?" Arcee asked, and Jack sighed.

"I..." he said to her, and couldn't think of anything, and so turned back to his mother, "Or you don't have to it all on your own anymore. Me and Arcee can help you."

"I would do ANYTHING to help you." Arcee stongly stated.

"I'm just his mother." June tried to say.

"If I've learned anything about Humanity, it's that mothers are worth dying for." Arcee said.

"Then why don't they listen?" June asked.

"Because he wanted to die for you." Arcee said, "It's a warrior-class thing."

"Are you saying Jack is warrior-class?" June asked.

"Of course he is." Arcee replied, "He could be an Exemplar."

"And... that is?.." June asked.

"Right, you don't have castes." Arcee stated.

"And you are making it up as you go along." Jack said with a smile

"Me?" Arcee asked, "Primus, no."

"Just below the bureaucrats." Jack stated. Jack looked at her, but she seemed completely disinterested, and gestured for him to continue. "The Custodians run the bureaucracy, and just below them are the artists and scientists and political figures."

"Above warriors." Arcee simply stated.

"For a Human?" June asked her, and Arcee rolled her eyes.

"Cybertron doesn't look at it this way." Arcee said, and gestured to Jack.

"Part of the stuff they gave us was recognition."

"Like, citizenship?" June asked, and Arcee shrugged.

"Cybertron was never a democracy." Jack said to his mother. "So, they don't have a concept of citizenship."

"Then?.." June asked.

"Let me think?.." Jack voiced, and thought for a moment. They heard a knock come from the door.

"Expecting anyone?" June asked the other two, but they looked confused.

[abundanceofnots]

a little (just under 2k) playground scene with Lip and Ian as dads, as per @pink--and--white's request. i apologize to all actual parents in advance.

“How the fuck did we get here?” Lip asks through a huff of incredulous laughter.

Ian shades his eyes from the sun, turning to his older brother with a look of mock concern. “Your memory that bad already, old man? We drove here.”

It earns him a stinging smack on his thigh.

“Asshole,” Lip retorts back. “You know what I mean.”

Ian’s eyes flit back to the scene before them. “Yeah, I do,” he confirms a beat later, his voice more earnest this time.

This, by far, isn’t a new feeling. Lip’s had the exact same thought pass through his mind countless times in recent years, always in a momentary flash of warmth that filled up his whole chest. It happens all the more often now over the most mundane shit, though.

The first time was, probably, when Freddie was born. Then Ian got married, and Al came along, and Liam got to a good school—and after that followed every other quiet (not literally) evening when the whole family gathered up in the kitchen.

In those instants, Lip would stall himself for just a second, getting lost in the overwhelming sounds and visuals, and think, what the fuck.

He’s getting soft. That’s it, most likely. He’s getting soft and sentimental, going on with his extremely unexceptional life, wondering how in the hell did a piece of shit like himself get so lucky, and slowly becomes someone he’d gladly punch in the face not too long ago.

It hits him hard again, this strange sense of pride and wonder, as he sits next to his baby brother on a bench overlooking a kids’ playground.

This one’s the real deal. Everything here is child-proof and clean, with no syringe or dogshit in sight. Frank or some random homeless guy aren’t lying in a drunken coma by the swing sets. There’s not even one bullet hole in the slide. And maybe it’s not so hard to admit that this is actually pretty nice. That this is them now.

Still, the whole thing is, without a doubt, totally ridiculous. Here they are, Lip and Ian—the college dropout and the ex-con, the true sons of the South Side—sneakily munching on their kids’ packed afternoon snacks.

“Dumb luck, I guess,” Ian answers Lip’s question after some musing and takes a sip from Toe’s pink-colored juice box.

Lip hmms before he bites into a baby carrot. “For us, or them?”

“For us. Definitely.”

They’re just two regular dads who carry around lunchboxes and always have a wet wipe or a pack of tissues at hand, ready to blow noses and wipe off residue chocolate from chins and hands. There aren’t enough words in the English language that would describe how incredibly ridiculous this is, because once upon a time, not too long ago, still, Ian wore a jumpsuit with Dav on the nametag and believed this was it for him, and Lip thought the only way to get through life was by drinking himself through the ordeal.

How the fuck did they get here?

“Freddie! Hey, Freddie!” Lip calls out to his oldest, who hangs upside down from the monkey bars, effectively ignoring him. “Fred!” he tries again with an annoyed sigh, and the boy finally remembers how his ears work. “Can you help your cousin on the slide?”

“Okay!”

With a swift motion, Freddie pulls himself up again to grab hold of a bar, unhooking his knees in the process, and jumps down into the sand with practiced ease. He then immediately gets into a run, coming behind the red-headed girl in black overalls who’s been trying to climb the gentle ramp on her own.

“What was that about?” Ian inquires amusedly.

“Early puberty, I think. He doesn’t want us to call him Freddie anymore. It’s Fred. No Fredster, no Fredtastic, definitely no Fredosaurus. Just Fred. Apparently, I went to bed, and my son turned into a middle-aged man overnight.”

“Oof. That’s rough.”

“Yeah. The next thing I know, he’s gonna get a neck tattoo and his first STI. Al, buddy!” His younger son Alvin, at least, seems to have no trouble with hearing. “You need help? Want me to push you?”

“No, I’m good!” the blond kid shouts back from the swing, and to prove his point, he pushes himself harder off the ground to gain momentum.

Lip scratches his forehead. “They don’t need me anymore,” he comments darkly. “I am officially a bother.”

“You’ve always been a bother,” Ian notes before he stuffs his mouth full of grapes. “Come on, Lip. Freddie’s eight. He’s not exactly packing his bags to leave home. He’s still very much a daddy’s boy.”

“I don’t know, man. When I remember what I was already doing when I was his age….”

“Yeah, but that’s different. They’re not like us. They don’t need to be, and that’s a good thing.”

Ian’s right, but the concept of normal as something desirable, something he doesn’t necessarily need to rebel against, is something Lip may never fully come to grasps with. And neither does Ian, even if he says otherwise.

“We might be getting a dog,” Lip says after a while, pausing before he sinks his teeth into a cheese stick.

“No way!” Ian smirks at him. “Look at you, perfect American family and shit.”

Lip snorts at that. He and Tami are pretty damn far from perfect. “You not thinking about getting a pet? A friendly rottweiler for Mickey, perhaps?”

“No. First, I gotta talk him into having another kid.”

That takes Lip by surprise. He knows Ian absolutely adores his little girl, his mini ginger twin that everyone got to call Toe, short for Tomato, but he also knows the whole story behind how she came to be.

“Oh, yeah? You’d like another?”

“Yeah,” Ian admits, and as his eyes drop to his lap where his fingers fiddle with a paper straw, Lip realizes he sounds ashamed about it.

“Not as easy as poking holes in condoms with you guys, huh?” he jokes to release the sudden tension.

“Hah. No.”

“You told Mickey yet?”

Meeting his brother’s eyes again, Ian gives a noncommittal shrug. “I hinted.”

From experience, Lip knows that hinting in Ian’s case almost exclusively means Mickey is fully aware of his intentions and just chooses to ignore them before Ian confronts him head-on.

“Hopefully, you’ll have another girl,” he tells Ian after a quiet moment filled with children’s high-pitched screams and the steady screeching of a swing set. “It’s a lot more physical with boys. These two are already fighting like we used to.”

“Doesn’t really matter when you’re raising a Milkovich,” Ian remarks before yelling: “Hey, Toe? You wanna have a sip of your juice for me?”

The girl waves at them eagerly as she slides down the bendy chute. Getting to a run right as her feet touch the ground, she comes to a jolty halt in front of them, taking a good, hard look at the juice box as if only now realizing what’s expected of her.

“No, thank you,” Toe then peeps and skips off again.

“Polite,” Lip appraises.

Ian gives a low chuckle. “Fuckin’ weird, huh?”

“With Mickey as her dad? A little.”

They watch the kids play for a few minutes. Ian offers to exchange a cheese stick for three grapes, and Lip negotiates it up to five before agreeing.

“You think he’d be against it? Having another kid?” he asks Ian mid-chew.

“I mean, I wouldn’t blame him, after all the shit with Terry. Maybe with a second kid, he’d think there’d be twice the damage he could do. Dunno,” Ian surmises uncertainly. “I know how hard it was for him to even want a kid, and I get why he was scared. Don’t get me wrong, I’m shitting myself every day when I think of the ways I could fuck this up. But he’s a great dad. You saw him with Toe. She’s obsessed with him. The way she laughs at everything he says makes you think he invented comedy or something.”

Lip’s aware that their conversation turned sort of serious once again, but he can’t help not breaking into a smile. “Sounds like you’re kinda jealous of your husband there, Ian.”

“Oh, I hate his guts,” his brother confirms, only partially kidding. “I’m a fun dad, too, you know.” As if on cue, a figure coming their way catches his attention, and Ian nods to where his daughter’s playing, telling Lip: “Okay, watch this.”

Mickey gestures at Freddie with a finger to his lips, coming around the slide just in time to catch his daughter in his arms with a victorious roar.

“Daddy!” Toe announces the good news to everyone around with a loud squeal.

Ian gives his brother a pointed look.

“Fuck, man,” Lip huffs with mock seriousness. “You tellin’ me she loves her dad? What a nightmare.”

“Yo, lunch ladies.” Mickey suddenly approaches them with Toe at his hip. “How ’bout less chit-chatting and more kid-watching? Think I’d remember if I left my kid with a giant fuckin’ bruise on her forehead this morning.”

“Yeah. She’s had a bit of a scuffle with Alvin earlier,” Ian says, reaching out to soothingly rub Toe’s calf as if said scuffle and the tears it brought weren’t already long forgotten.

“The hell’s he doin’ fightin’ someone half his size?!”

“She started it!” Lip counters weakly.

“Okay.” Mickey’s mouth hangs open for a minute before he finds his figurative footing again. “I guess she had her reasons for that. And you should teach your kids to not fight dirty.”

“I go play now,” Toe informs him then, putting a stop to his rant and his bad mood in one go.

“Yeah! You do that!” Mickey replies as he puts her down, matching her level of enthusiasm. She heads for the extensive pirate-ship-like construction this time, watchful cousin Freddie already on her heels, and Mickey drops heavily next to his husband, letting out a prolonged groan into his hands.

“Tough day?” Ian asks needlessly.

“Igor’s a fuckin’ idiot.”

“Told you he was.”

“And I agree, so drop it, a’ight? Hey, by the way.”

“Hey,” Ian echoes before they exchange a quick kiss.

Mickey notices the juice in his hands then and perks up. “That raspberry?” he checks after he’s already snagged the box for himself, taking loud slurps from it to get every last drop. He finishes off with a belch. “Fuckin’ love raspberry.”

Lip finds that anything he’d say at that moment would only spoil the natural fucking beauty of it, so he just appreciates with a private snicker.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Toe yells from the top of one of the pirate ship’s smaller slides. “Come play!”

Mickey pats at Ian’s thigh. “That’s on you, man. I’m beat.”

Putting his fun-dad face on, Ian heaves himself up without a complaint. “Hey, jellybean! Do you think your dad can fit on the slide, too?”

Toe shakes her head vehemently, giggling as she watches Ian jog toward her. “No, daddy! No! No!”

“What, you don’t think I can?” Ian asks again, halfway through his climb up on the board. “Well, take off your socks now because they might get blown off! I’mma fit!”

“Daddy!” Toe howls with laughter as he bumps his head on one of the low railings.

Beside Lip, Mickey imitates the reaction, both his hand and the phone he’s holding with it to record a video visibly shaking. When he notices Lip staring, his grin falters a little.

“These two jokers,” Mickey complains after he ends the recording. “She always laughs at everything he does like he invented comedy or some shit.”

Lip answers with a knowing smile, his chest feeling full of warmth.

Seriously, how the fuck did they get here?

[nevermindirah]

Dorothy Freeman facts

By facts I of course mean headcanons, because Nile's mom doesn't get a first name in canon (or even confirmation that her last name is Freeman). All we know about her is the picture on Nile's phone lock screen (which is Kiki Layne's real-life mom and brother!) and a few lines that Nile tells Andy about her. I’ve been collecting my Dorothy headcanons for a while now to eventually make a post, and @mprosperossprite​‘s excellent post giving non-Americans context for what it means that Nile is from the South Side of Chicago prompted me to go ahead and share this. Disclaimer that I’m white and I will absolutely make corrections if it’s pointed out that I’ve caused harm with any of this.

So here have some fun facts about the version of Mama Freeman who lives in my head rent-free:

Her family and growing up:

she was born in the mid-'60s and named after Dorothy Dandridge

I can’t decide whether she was born in Chicago or moved there later on (maybe with Nile’s dad?) and when in the waves of the Great Migration her family left the South

she came of age in the "post"-Civil Rights movement and went to college in the mid-80s when a lot of what are now the foundational classics of Black feminism were being written

she was a young adult when Anita Hill risked so much to report that a Supreme Court nominee had sexually harassed her, and as a result she HATES Joe Biden

Marriage and babies:

she met Nile's father — I can’t decide how they met and I have two competing headcanons for his name, either Gideon for the hefty Biblical masculinity vibes (Giddy for short among family, that man loved to laugh) or Carl, which started out as a shitty Carl’s Jr burger chain joke that turns out to be perfect (it means free man!), and @knoepfchen​ used it in the sequel to if you do take a thief where Carl is alive!! — and Dorothy was a little skeptical of his near-religious devotion to the military but he was really hot and really devoted to her and they made it work

she's a little pissed that she was right but it's unbearable if she thinks about it too often

it's going to be a long, long time before she can look back on pictures of Baby Nile stomping around the house in her dad's combat boots (this is a Gina Prince Bythewood headcanon, whyyyyyyyy can I not find a link to where she said this)

she named their second baby Indus, Indy for short (this is nearly as established fanon in Book of Nile circles as how much Booker loves eating pussy, and Indy Freeman as a young adult is portrayed by either Aldis Hodge or John Boyega I don’t make the rules)

Work:

Dorothy did some office jobs but nothing really grabbed her, and she was probably gonna have to move for her husband's career, so she decided on teaching — high school humanities

she’s been active in CTU (one of the strongest teacher’s unions in the US) her whole career and one year she was on the bargaining committee and her babies know damn well never to trust a boss, not even one who says all the right things — if she ever finds out the way Nile said "like Quynh?" when Andy promised to protect her, she will lose her mind with pride

(Nile was 18 and freshly graduated from high school in 2012 when CTU went on strike for the first time in a generation and she brought her mom snacks on the picket line)

one of her very favorite things is getting her students to laugh despite themselves at her "oh my GOD you're so EMBARRASSING" old-people jokes

she's one of those teachers who can get 30+ teenagers to go dead silent with judicious application of body language

she's known to occasionally go easy on grading subjective things like essays when she knows students are having a particularly rough time at home, but the second she gets the feeling they're taking advantage and not trying their best that shit is over and they better mind their Ps & Qs

she's the kind of person who says old-people shit like that

she gives her students assignments like "help 5 neighbors register to vote" and "write a compare/contrast table about the candidates in this local election" and "research 5 different ways you could get grant money to do X" and other practical civic-minded shit

standardized testing is her supervillain origin story, just kidding it’s Rahm Emanuel, why the fuck did Obama trust that asshole

After her husband died:

she would have lost her goddamn mind if it weren't for her church friends after her husband died, people from the church raised money so they could make ends meet while his pension paperwork was taking forever, church friends watched Indy so Nile could go out for the soccer team, etc etc

she sold her and her late husband's house and moved to a 3-bedroom co-op unit when Nile started high school, it's more affordable and it meant she didn't have to worry about household repairs in the same way, she can use a wrench if she needs to but she doesn't have time and it just makes her grief flare up (co-op housing has a long history in Chicago and other US cities (like Washington DC where I live) as a way for Black people to access decent, affordable housing in the face of entrenched discrimination)

the move meant putting a longer commute between her and church, but she didn't even bother looking for a church closer to their new home, she loaded the kids into the car on the weekends, parking is hell in their new neighborhood but it's worth giving up a hard-won parking spot to not have to wait so long for the L on Sunday mornings

Indy lived with her through college and he was gearing up to get his own place when Nile died, Dorothy was planning to move into a one-bedroom in the co-op building because she doesn't need so much space anymore, Indy took a day off from his new job (not so new anymore, her baby's so grown!) to help her sort things to donate when those dress-uniform Marines came to their door

part of her wishes she could've been home more and not had to rely on Nile so much for help with Indy, but he's turned out such a kind young man, and he's a much better cook than his sister is (was, oh God — no wait, is! she’s alive! what do you mean you’ve been alive all this time??)

some of the girls from church are encouraging her to check out this social dancing thing, nobody's pressuring her to date but there's definitely been some ribbing, and with Indy out of the house... maybe? probably not, but maybe

Her feelings and beliefs and likes and dislikes:

she's an absolute badass and also she's a soft human woman with lots of feelings

she's very, very traditional in some ways, and part of her mixed feelings about Nile following in her dad's footsteps is gender stuff, she's proud of her daughter and would never stand in the way of what Nile wants to do with her life, and if Nile came home and told her she's a lesbian she would never reject her, but if Nile came home and told her she's bisexual maybe she can just try focusing on men? “I love you sweetheart and I want you to be happy I just know how hard it is already for us in this world” type shit

she has been on team natural hair basically her entire life and one of the worst fights she and Nile ever had was over Nile wanting to straighten her hair as a pre-teen

Indy takes more after her and Nile takes more after their dad, she's so proud of both of them, but Dorothy's activism was mostly wearing her natural hair to work and daring bosses to give her shit, Indy's out there marching in the streets like her parents had and she WORRIES

she teases Indy for going to so many protests like he's using it as an excuse to meet girls, but she WORRIES

when she turns 60, she gets box braids with streaks of dark purple, subtle enough that it's still work-appropriate but it makes her smile, she may be old now but damnit she’s still pretty!

she loves Grey's Anatomy and Star Trek and she watched Bridgerton all in one day

she has a dirty-old-lady celebrity crush on Chris Hemsworth

if she's ever masturbated thinking about Donna Summer, well, that's nobody's business but her own (do non-Americans know about the queen of disco??)

If you want to read fic featuring Dorothy:

I won't have to leave alone, 1000 words, Nile has a nightmare and decides to go tell her family she's immortal

I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore, 65k, Nile adjusts to immortality and does a lot of soul searching about what it means to "do what we think is right", Booker goes to grad school for trauma studies, the working title of this fic was Booker Reads Edward Said and Gloria Anzaldúa and Goes Down on Nile and the final product has an annotated bibliography in the author's notes if you’re into that kind of thing, a lot of my Dorothy Freeman headcanons were born of my process writing this

Gather round the table, we'll give you a treat, 2279 words, college AU, Nile brings her Jewish boyfriend home for Christmas

a contribution I made to Shitty Old Guard Deaths: (Booker, USA, 2025, cause of death: a mother’s righteous wrath)

[phoenixyfriend]

The Naruto/Frozen Crossover

So I was planning on just doing an image ID thing for this post, but apparently the formatting on desktop is such a mess that it’s easier to just make a new post that’s text only. I can also like. Bulletpoint it so that it can be a little neater. All ideas were made with @firebirdeternal​‘s help, because they are the most efficient enabler I have.

Also I added some bits at the end.

Under a cut, because it’s Long As Heck.

I originally had two options: either Mid-teens Elsa and Anna being transported to ninja land sometime pre-canon and running into Haku and Zabuza... or just like. Born as a Daimyou's daughters.

Spoiler alert, we’ve got nukenin and I’m a sucker for an intrusive crossover, so transported to ninja land it is.

Suggestion from Birdie:

Mechanism for crossover: Elsa ices over a Wishing Well by accident after having Wished for someone else who understood her, Anna and her fall in and get Ice Mirror Portaled to Ninjaland, falling out of an iced over pond near a shrine that Haku recently prayed at for similar lonely child reasons?

Which I like! They don’t end up there soon enough to run into Haku, because I want a dramatic chase first, but I like it.

Obviously, Anna is forced to learn about Elsa's powers because it's the only thing keeping them safe

Or at least alive

(Elsa will do ANYTHING to keep Anna safe, and if that means she has to get her hands dirty...)

...neither of them knows Japanese, so, you know. There’s that.

I'm thinking that they end up in/near Kiri at first

And they aren't FAST ENOUGH to get away so Elsa panic-enchants a giant reindeer made of snow to run away across the suddenly-frozen ocean.

She and Anna have to ride and Elsa is probably crying the whole time.

Oh shit this is like. RIGHT after their parents die, I forgot. So that’s a thing! They are in mourning and all that fun stuff.

Point is, they use the powers for a Self Defense thing and BBY Haku is just !!! "Master can we rescue them for Ice Cousin reasons?" Zabuza: Yes, and only for those practical reasons and not because I collect endangered children like people collect pokemon cards.

I imagine that maybe they track rumors of a Yuki-onna down, or the Giant Snow Reindeer rides by and Haku’s just like Wat

The girls just tag along with Zabuza because. Like.

Do they like him? No. Do they trust him? No. Do they enjoy the fact that he considers them pathetic civilians? No.

However, Haku is Baby.

Zabuza is REALLY annoyed at them being Useless Civilian Royals “but Haku likes them so I guess they can stay.”

Age at meeting, three years pre-canon:

Zabuza - 23

Elsa - 18

Anna - 15

Haku - 12

Elsa is 90% anxiety/depression master combo BUT if Zabzua protects her then she's WILDLY dangerous so like. Whatever

Elsa's bingo book nickname options, uninspired:

Winter Witch

Winter Queen

Ice Queen

Snow Queen

Something about a Yuki-Onna maybe

She's Very Stately and kinda breakable but Winter is her Bitch

I mean like, the fact that, if protected, she can shut down the agriculture of a fucking country? That's an S-rank even if she's not that useful in a fight.

She's like. Jinchuuriki-level destruction. Generally speaking she wouldn’t. But she could.

Elsa: What the fuck is a chakra? Elsa: my snow monsters are self-sustaining. Elsa: I'm gonna build us a house.

Zabuza has NO idea how her powers work and it is INCREDIBLY frustrating but “there’s no chakra cost to keep these things going and we have shelters on demand” is too convenient to question after a while.

Haku: Delicate, deadly, incredibly fast ninja work. Elsa: I can't dodge a kunai but watch me wreck your entire country's ecosystem in under a day.

Elsa is a siege weapon.

Meanwhile, Anna is really, really into the physicality of ninja practice.

She's clumsy and she's not very good at ninja stuff, but she sure is determined!

Anna also gets on Zabuza's nerves because she keeps insisting that Haku get to be a kid.

Anna: Let's make flower crowns! Zabuza: No, he needs to train, not- Anna: FLOWER CROWNS

Consider: Haku saying Elsa-nee-sama and Anna-hime.

Or just calling Elsa “onee-sama.”

Anna is also younger than Elsa and way more Fun so she probably gets adjusted to Anna-chan or Nee-chan.

If Zabuza calls Elsa “Hime-chan” or “Elsa-hime” or, Sage forbid, “Elsa-sama/dono” then he’s VERY MUCH making fun of her and he’s probably getting his soup frozen that night.

At one point, Elsa... tries to like. Convince herself to have a crush on Zabuza or Kakashi or something until Zabuza just puts a hand on her shoulder and asks "do you even like men?" "...that's an OPTION?"

Zabuza urging her to try and ask out a Cute Kunoichi and Elsa's like.... I can't decide if she's bright red and a useless lesbian or uncomfortable and ace.

I am SO invested in the siege weapon thing.

SHE IS THE SQUISHIEST WIZARD.

It's not her fault that every single other combatant on the continent is Massively Dangerous in melee! She took a very traditional back-line build!

Enemy: Doesn't it GRATE to protect someone so pathetic, Zabuza? Zabuza: She literally froze an entire castle of enemies to death because they harmed her sister, so. No.

Most Ninjas: Sharp Knife. S-Rank Mega Ninjas: Gun. Elsa: High Yield Explosive Rocket Launcher. Literally loses fights to the Knife People, because she can't bring her power to bear on that scale. But if you can give her Time and Prep? No contest.

Long distance AoE

Like  you know how Nagato is literally dying of starvation due to illness and can't walk, but he's also capable of leveling powerful villages more or less on his own?

Elsa is the same Vibe.

It’s like sealing a bijuu in a civilian.

She's honestly both more and less powerful? Like it'd be hard for her to kill everyone in Konoha in the snap of a finger? But also, she could starve out the Country of Fire in a summer.

She WOULDN'T, but she could.

I always read Elsa as gay or ace but my brain keeps trying to ship her with dude ninjas and I have to yank it back on a child leash.

People insinuate that Zabuza is interested in Elsa and he's just "What? Ew she's like five."

"I'm eighteen."

"Five."

BUT

Elsa! Might mistake trust and companionship for a crush!

I can see THAT happening despite gay/ace.

Also like. I don’t think Zabuza is straight.

So mlm/wlw solidarity?

And Haku is probs genderqueer.

So Anna is THE TOKEN STRAIGHT.

Anna is like, the Straight Friend who will go to the mat for her queer friends. Like vicious. In-your-face barking like a mean dog at people who were being bigots.

You know how Elsa in the second movie uses her powers to make toys for kids out of ice?

Okay, so her practicing by making things with Haku.

But yeah, Elsa can't really do "throws ice senbon," but she can do Delicate Geometry Things since she apparently, canonically studies math for fun and loves fractals.

Haku: I can trap you in a prison of ice mirrors, and you are at my mercy. Elsa: LOOK AT THIS CASTLE I MADE???

Haku wants to do Pretty Things like Elsa

OH.

Elsa makes... snow bunnies..

For the ninja distraction reasons but also because it's a Soft Thing that makes her feel better about, uh, everything. And Haku likes bunnies.

Zabuza still takes The Dirty Missions but Elsa gets upset when he does something that hurts innocents and Nobody wants Elsa upset. Even Zabuza doesn't want Elsa upset.

When Elsa gets upset, overnight accommodations are suddenly Very Uncomfortable for everyone except her and Haku.

And then Anna gets upset, which makes Elsa even MORE upset.

And then things just keep getting colder.

Zabuza doesn't want Elsa upset for many reasons, not limited to: "Is actually capable of killing me from outside of Sword Range if she's mad enough, even if it’s not that easy" and "the Small Children would be unbearably sad if she died and honestly so might I."

She's more of a friend than a ward and he's not entirely sure he's okay with that.

Zabuza: "Ew, friendship."

He has absolutely no idea how to have a social interaction with people he isn't Bullying, Raising, or Threatening to Kill.

Elsa and Anna have no trouble convincing people they're related, at least. Different coloration with almost identical bone structure.

A tendency to burst into song when they feel emotions.

Identical weird accent that nobody can place.

FOOD

The girls are royalty, they don't know how to COOK.

But they also want food from HOME.

It's a lot of trial and error.

More error than not, since they have both no knowledge and also a language barrier to overcome. It probably takes YEARS before they can describe things like Unfamiliar Flavors well enough for people to say "OH that sounds like spearmint."

When they run into something they know that’s familiar, it’s life-changing.

Chocolate is more common in the elemental nations than in Arandelle and Anna may or may not cry about it.

Anna is loudly bossy, even at Zabuza.

Zabuza is gruffly commanding, to everyone.

Elsa doesn't actually like being in charge, but when she talks, people LISTEN.

(Haku is just happy to be here.)

Elsa radiates two things: Anxiety, and Natural Command, and she basically just fluctuates between those.

"I don't want to be in charge but also I'm vetoing this."

So, obviously, the main reasons that Zabuza keeps the girls around is that Elsa is a living siege weapon and he thinks she could be convinced to help him run a revolution in Kiri, and also that the Ice Queen schtick is like. Really good for Haku and Zabuza can’t really say no to the kid.

HOWEVER, Anna is clumsy and messy and all that, so Zabuza starts training her in Ninja stuff. Elsa joins in on the “I need to know how to Run Fast to get away from fights I don’t want to have in the first place,” but Anna’s the one that’s like “TEACH ME HOW TO SWORD.”

It’s honestly not that hard to teach her, she’s just really, really, REALLY enthusiastic.

Once or twice someone asks why she’s so bad at this yet running around with an A-rank nukenin and Zabuza’s just like “I’ve only had her for a year and a half, shut up!” because it’s not that he’s a bad teacher, it’s that she was a very pampered civilian until like a week before he met her.

He should get a MEDAL for even getting her to low Chuunin.

Zabuza: I'm taking a job from Gato Elsa, who has Training in economics and politics and bureaucracy: I have a better idea.

This is actually not entirely what I’d do but I wanted to make the joke first ANYWAY here’s an actual plot or something.

Oh, also by this point everyone is Canon Ages so Elsa’s 21 and Anna’s 18 and Zabuza’s 26 and Haku’s 15.

Elsa is getting paid to keep the water from interfering with construction, by way of....

ICE COFFERDAM

Elsa with Haku as her Guard while Zabuza is off running his own mission? Which Anna begged to go on because Cool.

Elsa also kind of keeps her involvement on the ice front semi-secret by claiming she’s there as an engineering consultant.

LISTEN canon made her like geometry, I can ENTIRELY believe she’d be excited about the bridge-building.

Gato has hired someone else on the danger level of Zabuza, who is Threatening to Team 7 + Haku? But then when things look bleak Anna and Zabuza arrive and then Scary Sword Man is on our side and oh dear that's a lot of blood.

Which, you know, fun!

Birdie suggested Raiga which I’m not feeling but I do feel the need to bring up as an option.

It’s also not Kisame BUT

Kisame: [giant lake dome filled with sharks]

Elsa: uhhhhhhhhhhh...

Giant lake dome: [is now a giant ice dome]

Anyway

Gato: I'm hiring an army. Elsa: [giant ice wall around his compound] Gato: ... these guys can walk up walls! Elsa: [adds snowman guards] Elsa: ... Elsa: [adds a ceiling]

Just puts Gato's entire mob in a fucking snow globe.

Zabuza shows up twenty minutes late with (Throwing) Star(buck)s just like "Oh, they dead? No? Want 'em to be? Okay cool I'm gonna go pick up Haku, I'll be back in like an hour."

Anna would... LOVE Naruto

ENERGETIC FRIENDLY GOOFBALL

"I found us a baby brother!" "No, we already have Haku." "BUT LOOK AT HIM."

Anna is only a year or two older than Itachi.

OH RIGHT

I wanted to make a joke about how Naruto also vibes with her because he's less judgmental that she can't really... talk properly.

Sasuke is Judgy and Kakashi is Paranoid and Sakura is Uncomfortable.

Meanwhile Naruto is just like "And I Shall Scream."

Anna, who learned Japanese from Zabuza (rude) and Haku (uber polite): WELL FUCK YOU, GOOD SIR Naruto: YEAH WELL FUCK YOU TOO, LADY Elsa, overly formal: I am... so very sorry.

Anyway, generic missing nin fights and all that.

Elsa gets injured in the process and after a variety of arguments, Naruto manages to convince them to take her to Konoha for medical attention.

Elsa is... usually the one getting injured.

Zabuza and Haku are FAST and Anna is at least learning (even if she’s only been doing it for three years), but Elsa is The Squishy Wizard.

If someone throws a kunai... she can’t... really dodge...

So yeah, gut wound.

Normally they find a nukenin medic to patch them up but Konoha is reasonably close and has some of the more skilled medics on the continent and they DID technically help the Konoha nin so like. Gah.

That’s Zabuza’s final thought. Gah.

Just “Fuck it, let’s save the ice queen.”

Elsa ends up in a half-literal-ice stasis state on the way there and it’s happened before (it is not the first time she’s been stabbed), but it’s always terrifying.

Especially to the Konoha genin who are just like WHAT THE HECK IS THAT.

So they get to Konoha, there’s a whole bunch of stuff about extradition treaties and “you are bringing a literal WMD of a woman into our town” and “we can’t just let MOMOCHI ZABUZA in.”

Anyway, it ends up being that Zabuza has to wait outside the village while Elsa is treated inside, and one of the Teenagers goes in. Obviously, it’s Anna, because Zabuza is INCREDIBLY UNCOMFORTABLE with letting Haku enter a village that’s known for having lots of bloodlines, and anyway, Anna’s the sister.

Bunch of stuff, she’s healing, etc, and then one day Anna comes in and is told “your sister had a bad reaction to the anesthetic, we couldn’t save her, I’m sorry, she’s gone.”

She flips out, gets shown the corpse, flips out MORE, gets escorted out to the village walls where Zabuza and Haku are waiting.

Horrified reactions

Zabuza doesn’t want to admit that it’s EMOTIONS because this is his FRIEND, he is clearly just upset about losing the living siege weapon.

Haku is just super confused and goes “But she’s not dead.”

“What.”

“She’s not dead, I can feel her, I can always feel her, it’s like sensing but just her, because we’re both ice. She’s alive, somewhere over... there?”

And points right in the direction of the Hokage Mountain, which for the purposes of this fic and also Drama is where ROOT headquarters is.

YEP we absolutely have that plot point.

Is Danzo overused as a plot device? Probably. Am I going to diabolus ex machina him anyway? Ye.

They kick up enough of a fuss that the Hokage gets called down.

He wouldn’t, normally, he’d leave it to a couple of skilled jounin and call it a day, except Naruto got involved so like. You can’t. Ignore that.

There’s lots of shouting.

Just like. A lot.

And then part of the mountain explodes!

AS ONE DOES

Elsa comes flying backwards out of the hole, catches herself on a spontaneous ice slide, gets to her feet.

Girl is swaying like MAD.

There are absolutely ANBU (both fake and real) coming after her.

At least one of them gets speared through by an ice spike.

Anna runs up to her, tries to hug her, gets batted away.

Elsa’s staring at her in sheer TERROR and starts muttering something about how Anna died years ago, this isn’t real, etc.

Nobody except Anna understands most of it, but Haku picks up enough to translate when Anna’s freaking out.

Elsa starts doing her Ice Castle thing in the middle of Konoha as a coping mechanism, mostly so she can get Up and Away and Shielded By Ice.

This is not a good look.

Especially because she’s singing, which Zabuza always thinks is a bad omen because it means shit is getting real and one or both of the girls are about to get a powerup or be beaten even harder than otherwise. When they start singing, things get More Dramatic And Extreme).

(Zabuza does not like Disney Musical Rules)

Danzo shows up.

There’s a bunch of arguing.

All the medics insist that nothing she was given at the hospital should have caused amnesia, psychosis, hallucinations, delusions, etc.

It’s. Not hard for Hiruzen to guess what happened.

Namely that Danzo, upon finding out that chakra dampeners didn’t do shit since none of Elsa’s powers come from chakra, decided to keep her drugged up and start using genjutsu to make her more malleable.

Because like. An injured WMD just showed up in your village. What are you supposed to do, not try to kidnap her and turn her to your side? Like, come on. What was he supposed to do?

Not that, Danzo. Literally Not That.

IDK how it gets resolved, probably Anna getting to her with the power of love, because Elsa is ultimately Super Disney.

I also don’t really know where to go from there other than “Maybe Jiraiya can get you home, but also I’m pretty sure Zabuza wants you all to get the hell out of here and take over Kiri” but who knows.

Also

IMAGINE ELSA MEETING GAI.

Imagine Ino getting a puppy crush on Elsa.

IDK that’s it for now.

[delwrites]

Dating Tom Holland Headcannons

if you’d like me to expand on any concepts, drop me a request! I have loads of ideas oof

also, these are just my opinions and thoughts! so there will definitely be some ooc and we may disagree, but do feel free to tell me which points you disagree with! would love some feedback :)

right i’m sorry I’ve no clue why but I just see him as quite an emotional person? like him being so mature that he’s just fully intact with his feelings and doesn’t ever feel the need to hide them around you because he knows you wouldn’t judge him. like him having a lot of rough days but as soon as he sees you just instantly perking up a little bit

or literally just collapsing in your lap when you’re trying to watch something on the sofa and him just letting it all out for you to listen to as you hug his head to your chest and run your fingers through his hair

him being so scared he’s gonna lose you as you’re literally a goddess in his eyes so he always makes sure you’re happy 

him always letting you choose whatever you guys watch (as most of the time he will concentrate more on you than the tv)

he would build you both a blanket fort with fairy lights and pillows and it would be the most comfy thing ever

if you choose to put on a scary film, expect him to be stuck to your side like glue, hiding his face in your neck/ chest in the scary scenes because he doesn’t care about being a mAnLy MaN

he would DEMAND that you carry him up to bed because he insists that if he leaves the cocoon of warmth that your providing, the monsters may get him

him being the bigGEST MAN-CHILD WITH YOU OH GOD

like you two literally just playing games and stuff

playing just dance and him being surprisingly good?

but then beating his behind at Mario kart

also side note but you and paddy would get along SO WELL and you’d spoil the life out of him and play games with him, and whenever you play Mario kart with him and Tom, you’d let paddy win, you’d be in 2nd place and Tom would be all the way back in 11th absjdjd

“well, at least I didn’t lose?”

and both playing animal crossing together and visiting each others islands and his is a mess whilst yours is all vibes and lovely

you and him having FIGHTS over monopoly BSIDHSHS that game RUINS friendships I swear

DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON LEGO HSCGIYSEGCI

him buying you a promise ring AWWWEEE and then claiming it’s because he wants a part of him on your person at all times (so naturally, you never take it off)

him going shopping with you because he’s the biggest hype man and always going in the dressing rooms with you so you end up buying loads of outfits because he assures you that you look incredible in all of them

him carrying majority of your bags and holding open all of the doors for you (which would admittedly be a bit of a struggle with the amount of bags he ends up carrying for you VUGJYBEK)

the pap pictures this would provide!!!

also you going on dog walks with him and Tessa and him always insisting you take his coat if you ever forget yours

always visiting him on set whenever you can

whenever he has free days spending them not doing anything just cuddling into your side

him trying to teach you basketball but you always being clumsy and dropping the ball

if you ever trip best believe he wouLD NOT LAUGH ITS LIKE YOU’VE DIED

RDJ literally adopts you because we all have daddy issues and we all need that in our lives

then tom and his dynamic becoming so much more like Tony and Peters dynamic HDSBDYAB

tom asking rdj for permission before doing practically anything with you 

“um, sir, could I borrow your daughter? for like, the rest of our lives?” FUHIFUEHIUFH

rdj being so protective of you oh lord

and you always going to him for advice because he’s a wise soul who can always help you, especially with relationship advice 

tom getting low-key jealous pretty often, like although he has full trust in you, he (as previously mentioned) views you as a goddess who is just the definition of beauty and love and believes that you could have any man in the room (which you can queen go off) and constantly being nervous that something will happen

him being really good at not showing it though

death stares from across the room and then giving you the sweetest smile if you look (like seriously, too sweet, suspiciously sweet)

I feel like when you both get alone his demeanour just instantly changes and he goes really cold and distant all of a sudden, it’s almost as if he deflates, the drive home being so tense and him going directly to his room when you get home, but later on he gets sick of ignoring you and goes to you to talk about it properly and makes it up to you

your confidence sky-rocketing when getting with him because he gives the most obscure and yet heartfelt compliments at any chance he gets, so you know they've come from heart with how random they are 

“yes darling work that top!”

“love, I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but you ears are really pretty?”

right I know this is literally everywhere but lets be real here, he ADORES you in his hoodies. sharing clothes is so intimate to him, and each time he sees you walking about so casually in his clothes, he falls that little bit more in love with you (no matter how much he thinks that that isn’t possible)

you accidentally walking in on his lives and either saying the most chaotic or the most lovely things, and the chat absolutely living for it

“Love, are you busy? I was just thinking about taking Tessa on a walk, to that park she loves?”

or,,, “THOMAS STANLEY HOLLAND! IF I HAVE TO TELL YOU ONE MORE TIME TO TAKE YOUR DIRTY PLATES TO THE KITCHEN, I WILL SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUST! I AM NOT YOUR MOTHER, NOR YOUR CARER, SO DON’T TREAT ME AS SUCH!”

the chat blowing up being little shit stirrers like ‘oooohhhh she called him by his full name he’s in troubleeee’

Tom just pointing at his phone timidly being like “darling.. I’m live right now..”

“I DONT CARE! SORT YOURSELF OUT, YOU CAVEMAN”

him getting so embarrassed BDKDNDJD

also I’m sorry right but bathing together after a long and difficult week, or after not seeing each other due to contradicting schedules and what not, not in a sexy times way or anything but just being so intimate and comfortable around each other

and obviously this little pamper night would call for doing face masks together and painting each other’s nails

him finding it so fun to paint your nails (even though they end up really messy BDJDNDJD)

he is a magnificent chef and no one may tell me otherwise

having the arrangement of him always cooking dinner and you always washing up the dishes

but after he sees you dancing around the sink, ending up joining you (after watching you for a minute of two with heart eyes, of course)

even though he is an incredible cook, being such a bad baker. like, for one of your anniversaries, he tries to bake you a cake, but it ends up literally bubbling in the oven and spilling over the sides and never cooking all the way through and it just being a mess

you trying it out of pity and ending up getting ill, so he stays in with you to take care of you because even though both of you fail to admit it aloud, it was him who made you poorly

you decide to do all the baking at that point

every time you do decide to bake anything, always saving him the biggest and best piece

and don't even get me started on how well you’d get along with his family

like the first time he introduced you to them they were all so so so welcoming and loving and literally just took you in as their own (not as much as rob did though rdj is number one)

again, always playing with paddy

teaching paddy how to bake AWWW and always getting him the best presents

you, harry and sam literally just embarrassing tom with stories

you and harry deciding to prank tom together because tom pranked you once ages ago but after your reaction, decided never again, so of course you have to get him back

Tessa loving you so much, and tom always being able to tell when she misses you (mainly because he can relate)

having an argument that he didn't think was a big deal and where he thought you were overreacting but then hearing you call him Thomas and it setting in that it is a big deal to you and fixing it

again, please do send me an ask or pm me if you'd like me to expand on any of these! im just overflowing with ideas for this incredible man, so do ask :)

[dewykth]

SWEET SEPTEMBER.

a @periminkle​​​ and @dewykth​​​ collaboration.

synopsis. for many, september symbolizes new beginnings. but for namjoon, this month never fails to send him back into the past. though this time, something seems different.

pairing. kim namjoon | female reader contains. fluff, angst, slice of life au, ballet instructor!reader, single dad!nj  word count. 7.5k+  warnings. death mentions, mature audience

dae’s note. surprise !!! this fic is dedicated to my favourite virgo karla @guklvr​​​​ !! happy birthday bae i hope you enjoy this lil thing me n vira whipped up for u!! (i stress wrote a lot of this ha.) also sry for lying & keeping you up but hopefully this makes u forgive me. but i hope ur day goes amazing ILYSM DUDE !!! <333 and a huge thank you to vira for hopping on board for this idea bc i cld not have done this without her !!! pls give her all the love !!!

vira’s note. KARLAAAA!!! i always gotta scream ur name it’s mandatory to start with a good scream ykno? bUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL 🥳  i already told u this too many times today but ILYSM !! like that full day without saying a single word to u felt so weird and i kept going into our chat and rereading our mssgs and wishing I was talking to u??? which is weird to admit?? but that literally how much i missed u idk how but im addicted to u so if you leave me I will literally die :))) aNYWAY have the bestestestest day ever and i hope u love the fic bc I ignored all my uni work to finish this !!! (also i feel reallyreallyreally bad about last night sO IM SORRY AGAIN BUT I HOPE THIS IS WORTH IT) 💖

Despite the papers carelessly stuffed into his leather briefcase, the dark coffee stain on his black slacks, and his unkempt locks resembling that of a bird’s nest, Namjoon’s become accustomed to the hectic nature of his mornings.

The kitchen table is practically buried under stacks of files, yet he brushes them aside to allow one corner of the glass surface to peek through. He plops the toddler in his arms onto a high chair before racing to the counter and sloppily pouring some honey nut cheerios into a small bowl, handing it off to his daughter. 

“Daddy?” her voice squeaks, a patient smile stretching across her lips. Her brown strands are tied up into pigtails at the crown of her head with pink ribbons that flutter with the movement of her tiny head. 

“Yes, angel?” He scurries around to their bedroom, peeling the stained fabric off his body and threading one leg through another pair of slacks fresh from the laundry. 

With Namjoon’s focus pinned on checking off the mental to-do list in his head, he misses the gentle, reassuring smile that stretches across her rosy lips. The adoration for her father is clear in her gaze. “You forgot to pour the milk.”

At the reminder, he squawks and hops back to the kitchen on one foot as he maneuvers his other leg through the pant hole. Swinging the fridge door open, he grabs the carton and sloppily pours the milk into her bowl—white droplets leaping out with their newfound freedom and forming perfect domes on the glass tabletop.

Cleaning the mess falls to the bottom of his priorities at the moment, and so he speeds off to the bathroom to ensure that his appearance is presentable for work while Dasom reaches over to pluck a tissue from the box, swiping the milky beads away before diving into her breakfast. She shoves as many cheerios into her small mouth as she can, rushing because she refuses to finish her meal in the car with their wild driver behind the wheel. 

Despite her mere four years of age, she knows from experience that a bowl of cereal and a shaky vehicle is a recipe for disaster.

Namjoon races over to his briefcase with most of his hair sleeked back, only the locks of his bangs hanging out to frame his forehead. As he slips his dark blazer on to complete his form-fitting suit, Dasom scoops the last few brown rings into her mouth and slurps the remainder of the liquid.

“Did you finish your milk?” he questions while cramming the edges of the loose leaves that peek past the seam of his briefcase, hurriedly zipping it up and turning to face her.

Dasom flips the edge of the bowl up to display its empty contents, gulping the last of her breakfast down her throat. As per routine, she scans her father for any inconsistencies in his attire, landing on his odd fitting bottoms.

“Daddy, your pants are on backwards.”

His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, glancing down to affirm that the pockets at his sides are no longer at the front of his hips. Hastily, he shimmies out of his slacks once more and twists the fabric around to the proper orientation. 

Dasom hops off her chair, her bowl and wet kleenex in hand as she waddles over to the sink and waits for him to deposit the dirty dish into the sink and the sullied tissue into the trash. Although her short arms couldn’t reach over the countertop just yet, she’ll diligently drink every last drop of her milk in hopes of growing tall enough to take some of the load off of her father’s back.

He hoists Dasom up at the sight of the red car pulling up to the driveway, squeezing into the back seat. Namjoon doesn’t have to tell the driver to book it, as the calm man in front has learned to keep his foot pressed on the pedal. The car weaves through the morning traffic with concerning speed, snaking through the other vehicles littering the road as if they were no more than stationary pylons, simply there for practice.

Dasom remains on her father’s lap with his arms looped protectively around the seatbelt over her torso. She sinks into his embrace, fiddling around with his long, slender fingers as she watches the blurs of colour speeding past the window.

“Did you put your ballet shoes into your backpack, angel?” Namjoon loosens his grip on her, unhooking one hand to rummage through his own briefcase in order to confirm that he had indeed slid his laptop within the chaos inside. To keep her entertained, he playfully extends his digits out of her reach.

“Of course!” she chirps, a wide grin revealing the gaps between her teeth. The pads of her fingertips brush against his palm and tickle the sensitive skin there when she realizes that her arms lack the length required to latch onto his hand. “I can’t wait for class, we’ve got a new teacher coming in today!”

Humming absentmindedly, he sighs in relief at the sight of the silver device and packs the crumpled papers back in. “What happened to Ms. Kim?”

“She’s teaching the older class now.” The pout on her lips can be heard within the muffled lilt of her voice when she continues, “I asked her to stay until my birthday next week b-but she didn’t.”

Namjoon’s breath hitches at the reminder, but attempts to compose himself for his daughter’s sake. “It’s out of her control, angel, plus she’ll probably swing by anyway.”

His mind starts to fog up with the emotions he thought he buried last year–they swarm his every thought and nibble away at his sanity. He knows better than to believe that they would ever disappear. September will always be an insurmountable month for him.

“I might be a bit late to pick you up later, just sit tight and wait for Daddy, okay?”

She eagerly nods in response, noticing the dull red bricks of her school coming into view. “Okay, bye Daddy!”

Namjoon unlocks the seatbelt, wistfully watching his toddler bounce out of his arms and onto the asphalt below. No matter how many times he drops her off, it’s always difficult to be separated from her bright smile, but he reminds himself that it’s all for her; it makes things a little easier to bear.

“Have a good day at school.” He reciprocates her frantic waving through the window, craning his neck to watch her adorable form become smaller and smaller with the increased distance. Her full cheeks and crinkled eyes are engraved into the back of his mind.

Before long, Namjoon finds himself rushing into his office after an earful from his surly boss about everything from the late hour to the long list of meetings scheduled to all the work he’s got piled up. With his lips pursed and his head bowed, he somehow manages to make it past another lively morning.

Namjoon has a habit of overthinking. He figures it’s normal when you have a stressful job and a four year old full of energy to balance all by yourself. Not that overthinking about his daughter does him any good, because that is far from the reality. If anything, it just makes him, what you’d call, a bit... overprotective (over worrisome if you asked Jin). But it’s something he can’t really help. Even when she had just entered his life, so small and so blissfully unaware of the awful and evil things in the world, all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and shield her from it all as long as he could.

Though he’s very aware of the fact that it won’t be much longer, that won’t stop him from going over every single little thing that could go wrong in the meantime.

So, of course, when Namjoon’s asshole of a boss makes him stay two hours over his shift, all Namjoon can think about is Dasom. Is she okay? Has she eaten anything? Did she drink enough water today? She’s always dehydrated after her classes too. He usually calls Ms. Kim to check up on her, but his calls went straight to voicemail, which definitely wasn’t helping his hectic mind. Perhaps something had happened to her?

Oh god, maybe someone broke in and had injured Dasom?

The doors are thrown open, the sound of the doorknob hitting the wall reverberating through the room. The receptionist wearing her usual polka-dot dress jumps in her seat, eyes lifting from the intense scene on her phone to the entrance of the building. An unsure smile stretches across her ruby red lips at the familiar figure, though a bit disheveled and breathless. But before the customary ‘hello’ can even form on her tongue, the figure is rushing past her, leaving only a gust of air in his wake. The papers on her desk fall to the ground, and she sighs.

Namjoon is prepared to fight the (fictional) person who thinks breaking into a toddler ballet class is a good idea, but the scene in front of him once he pushes past the doors of the studio is one he is wholly unprepared for.

He sees Dasom first, and the relief that fills his body is indescribable. It’s far from the usual sight he’s greeted with when he picks her up late. She’s not sitting on one of the chairs in the far corner of the room. His heart doesn’t feel heavy, which comes with seeing his daughter so glum. This time it’s her laughter that greets him, not one provoked by him but by the figure standing in the middle of the room with her.

Dasom doesn’t seem to be aware of the presence of her dad yet, but the figure twirling her around turns, and her eyes land on Namjoon.

The reaction is immediate. The carefree smile that had been on your face slips off, a look of embarrassment and surprise overcoming your features. Namjoon only catches a glimpse, and somehow finds himself wishing that won’t be the last time he sees it. You let go of Dasom’s hand, quickly making your way to the stereo on the other side of the room. And that’s when-

“Daddy!”

Dasom wastes no time running into her father’s open arms, and Namjoon suddenly can’t remember why he was so worried in the first place. “Hi, angel.” he says, just loud enough for her to hear. She pulls back. “I’m so sorry for getting here so late. I promise i won’t do it again.”

But of course, Dasom holds nothing but forgiveness in her heart for her hard-working father. She does love teasing him, though. “Don't say sorry to me, say sorry to her.” she giggles, pointing behind her and Namjoon furrows his brow until he remembers they’re not the only ones in the room.

His eyes immediately move to where you stand awkwardly near the stereo, eyes moving around the room as if you hadn’t been watching the whole exchange. Namjoon sighs, realizing he definitely can’t avoid talking to you now. He stands straight, holding onto Dasom’s hand as he makes his way over to you. You only seem to grow more nervous as he nears, and Namjoon distantly recalls Jin telling him he came off as intimidating to most people. Something about his ‘beefy’ arms, in his own words. (“And that stupid and unfairly attractive face!”) He goes for a smile because it's not like he can control his physique.

“Hi, I’m so sorry about…”

Namjoon stops.

Maybe it was the overwhelming distress before, or the really shitty lighting of the studio, but he hadn’t realized how pretty you were before. But now he’s standing right in front of you and he can’t seem to form a coherent thought. Pretty can’t be the right word. He realizes how creepy he probably looks, running in here like a madman and then downright staring at the (very beautiful) woman who looked after his daughter? Not cool, man.

You clear your throat, before extending a hand to him. “Hi, I’m ____, the new ballet instructor.”

Your voice sounds just like honey.

Namjoon stares at your hand dumbly, before the sound of Dasom snickering (very discreetly) behind him snaps him out of it. But instead of introducing himself, or apologizing, or just taking your fucking hand, he says-

“What happened to Ms. Kim?”

He mentally face-palms.

Not. Cool. Man.

Your face falls, and Namjoon has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole more than he does now. “Uh, she’s instructing the teen class now.” you chuckle awkwardly, dropping your hand.

“Oh-”

“Daaaad,” Dasom's voice sounds annoyed, and perhaps it’s a bit silly of Namjoon to feel like he’s being scolded, but that is exactly how he feels right now. “I told you this. In the morning. Remember?”

He doesn’t. “Ah, right of course,” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck. It wasn’t like he meant to forget, he had just been too busy thinking about the other things every September would bring. “Sorry, I’m Kim Namjoon. Dasom’s dad.”

This time he offers his hand, and he thanks the skies above that you don’t seem to hate him because you fit your hand against his. Warm, like honey. How long had it been since he last made a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl?

Too long.

“I’m terribly sorry for arriving so late it’s just that my boss, who’s a huge-” Namjoon glances at Dasom, who is now in her own world, singing some song she learned in school, “jerk, decided to assign these reports last minute and the printer would just not work and then traffic hour-”

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but Namjoon can see the amusement bubbling in your eyes. He flushes a deep red, eyes falling to the floor, realizing he started ranting.

“It’s okay. Really.”

When he looks back up, there’s a smile on your face. Not like the one before, this one was more reserved, but genuine, reassuring. And just like that, he’s sure you don’t hate him.

Namjoon’s not sure he likes this feeling though.

“Straighten your arms out, girls!” you belt over the classical music that floods the studio’s walls, scanning your army of toddlers in tutus whose arms immediately tense at your command. Making your way through the row, you poke and prod everywhere from their shoulders to their ankles. “Arch your back more, Somin.”

Their muscles violently tremble in response to the strenuous routine you’ve introduced, facial features scrunched in concentration and a resolute will to uphold their positions despite the hyperextension of their limbs. A mix of pity and pride swells in your chest at their effort. “Keep your chins up, the annual recital is only a couple of days away.”

Cheers erupt throughout the small room, disrupting the focus and spoiling their perfect form, yet you refuse to quiet excitement because of the renewed vigour buzzing throughout the room. The next hour depletes all of their built-up energy with demi-piles, pirouettes and sautés.

A glance at the analog clock in the corner informs you of the five minutes remaining before the end of class, so you pause the speakers and instruct the girls to stretch themselves out as they wait for their guardians to trickle in. They collectively sigh in relief before dropping to the floor like flies.

You snort at their dramatics with an amused smile playing at your lips. “I said to stretch, not to lay down and nap.”

“Can’t we nap and stretch at the same time?”

Strolling over to the source of the voice, you cluck your tongue at her limp form sprawled across the wooden floor and cross your arms, struggling to keep your giggles from breaking your angered facade. “And how do you suppose we do that, little Miss Dasom?”

She flashes her toothless grin up at you. “Like this!” With one leg bent over the other and her hands looping around to hold her twisted limbs to her torso, she shuts her eyes and exaggerates her snores.

At this point, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your snickers, and the rest of the class joins in your laughter. You pick up on Dasom’s tinkling giggles between each of her heavy breaths. The lighthearted jokes continue as kids are signed out with bright grins on each of their faces.

You wait for the rest of the toddlers to file out one by one, waving goodbye and checking them off your list until, as usual, Dasom is the only toddler left. Her tiny feet still clad in her faded ballet shoes waddle up to you, tugging on your blouse.

“Your pirouette was a bit wobbly today, do you want to go over—”

“‘M tired,” she interrupts, slouching her shoulders with an adorable frown marring her lips. Her exhaustion is justified, since the routine is rather exhausting, and with their recital right around the corner, you worked them to the bone today.

The odd timing of the switch between you and Ms. Kim left you with a little under a week to tweak and perfect their current choreography. A sloppy routine is not the way you want to present your skills to their parents for the first time, thus you were stricter with the kids than normal.

Your sympathy wins out, and so you gather Dasom’s lithe figure into your arms as you head to the closest wall. With your back supported, you spread out your legs and place her in your lap.

“My birthday is this Thursday.”

“Mhm,” you hum, bobbing your head to signal for her to continue her train of thought.

Her back faces you, but when her head tips down to stare at her hands, you know she’s contemplating her words carefully. Rather than encouraging her to speak freely, you wait for her to feel comfortable enough to reveal her thoughts; and surely enough, her shell cracks open just enough for you to peep through. “Do you wanna come?”

“I would be honoured.” A giddy smile splits across your lips. “Is Daddy picking you up again today?”

She flips around in your hold, wrapping her arms around your waist and snuggling her head to your chest. Her words are muffled into the fabric of your thin shirt, but her tone indicates her affirmation.

Suddenly self-conscious of your heartbeat—that Dasom can definitely hear with her ear pressed up against you—picking up pace at the mention of her father, you suppress your thoughts with a guilty conscience. You internally chide yourself for harbouring feelings for the charming, taken, man, defying arguably one of the most important fundamental rules of becoming an instructor.

Do not develop silly crushes on your student’s parents.

“Ms. ____?” her faint question snaps you out of your reverie, attention brought back to the present moment. While preoccupied, your hand took on a mind of its own, gingerly patting the space between the little girl’s shoulder blades at a slow rhythm.

She gazes up at you when you halt your rhythmic movements, sharp eyes boring into yours. “Are you gonna ask Daddy to come see me dance?”

The edges of your lips flip up in what you hope to be an encouraging smile as you nod your head. Subconsciously, you begin to stress over another encounter with Namjoon, formulating a script to hopefully avoid the stiff, tense atmosphere that lingered throughout all your previous interactions.

“Daddy’s always really busy,” she slurs, drowsiness coating her words and weighing down on her lids. Grumbling under her breath about her numb legs, Dasom crawls onto the floor beside you with her head resting on your thigh. “He’s always working hard for me.”

Your eyes soften at the fetal position she’s taken up on the ground; not only was Dasom lucky to have such a dedicated father, but Namjoon was also blessed with a caring daughter. “You don’t think he can make it?”

“It’s okay,” she whispers and you have to crane your ears to listen. You stroke the strands littering her forehead, gingerly caressing the crown of her head. “It’s okay if Daddy can’t come. I know him, he’s trying to do it all because Mommy’s not with us anymore, but it’s okay. I still love him even if I can’t see him lots.”

A knot forms between your eyebrows, a bittersweet ache forming within the creases of your heart. The painful constriction of your chest ebbs and flows with your shallow breaths that can’t seem to make it past your throat. You bite your lip to subdue the plentiful liquid gathering at your waterline.

No more than a croak escapes your lips before the door to the studio flies open, meeting the adjacent wall with a bang!

“I’m so sorry, my meeting ran late and I couldn’t—” the rest of his speech gets stuck in his windpipe at the sight of you, eyes rimmed red and sniffling, with Dasom, ostensibly dead asleep, on your thigh. “Did she…?”

You blink away your incoming tears, although your dignity has been completely thrown out the window, seeing as he believes that his four-year-old kid made a grown woman, who just so happens to be her ballet teacher, bawl her eyes out.

As you go to gently shake Dasom awake, she sluggishly lifts her head off of your lap and starts to scale your torso like a koala on a tree. Your confusion is vocalized through the high-pitched hum in your throat, but your efforts to pry off her limbs, tightly wound around the small of your waist, are futile.

“Uh, Dasom? It’s time to go home now, angel.” Despite his firm words, Namjoon’s tone is unsure and shaky; he can feel cold sweat build up in the lines of his palms. He knows his daughter, and she can be periodically stubborn and insistent the way children are at her age, thus even as you come to stand, she’s stuck to you like glue. “Would you, uh, did you need a ride?”

You mimic the sheepish smile on his face, hoping the flaming blush you feel on your cheeks isn’t as visible as it seems. “Sure.”

With Dasom latched onto you, both of you make your way to the red car outside after you lock up the studio. Namjoon courteously opens the car door for you, what with your arms supporting his clingy toddler; although, with the brute force he uses, you worry for the state of the hinges. Thankfully, they stay intact and he’s able to slip into the backseat after you.

Before an awkward silence can settle, you clear your throat and prepare to ask him about his day, but you’re interjected by Namjoon’s sudden stammering, “D-driving’s such a hassle for me so Jin drives us everywhere. Jin knows how to drive though, so, don’t worry.” He finishes with a deep chuckle that dies off nearly as quickly as it began. Oh, that’s unexpected.

“You don’t to drive yourself?” Rather than being processed in your brain and logically thought through, the question immediately enters your mouth without any prior scanning for dumbass-content. You instantly regret it, feeling as though it’s much too invasive. “You don’t have to answer that, I—”

The hearty laughter that meets your ears is “No, I do. Sometimes. But its easier raising this one like this.” His tone turns sweet at the mention of Dasom as he reaches over to pat her head, and you’re overcome with an intense desire to prod more into his personal life. Why does he have to work so much? Which shirt in his closet is his favourite? How does he like his eggs in the morning?

“I’m not sure if you already knew about the annual recital on Saturday, but Dasom’s been practicing really hard for weeks and the kids are all really talented, so it would definitely be worth your time...”

As he’s gazing at his daughter, galaxies of devotion and longing swirl within his cocoa irises. The cool light of the moon shines through the windows of the car, illuminating his sharp jawline and strong brows. You’re absolutely mesmerized by the sight in front of you. “You must be really busy, huh?”

“More than I’d like to be.”

You rip your entranced gaze away from Namjoon, willing yourself to steady your frantic breaths.

The remainder of the ride still drips with awkward tension, although with a definite lighter tone than before. Jin pulls up to your apartment with your direction and you dislodge a sleepy Dasom from your torso, which is much easier now that her limbs have gone slack with sleep. Handing her off to Namjoon, who practically engulfs her tiny form with his broad chest, you rush out of the vehicle with a quick, “See you!”

You slam the door closed before he can say anything, racing into the comfort of your home with your heart in your throat.

The last thing you had expected to do on a Thursday evening was to go to a birthday dinner. Thursdays are your days off, your in-days. The ones you spend lounging on your couch with a face mask and some wine. And yet, here you are.

When you received a text this morning, the last person you had expected it to be was Namjoon. Much less Namjoon asking you to come over for Dasom’s birthday. You weren’t going to say yes, hell, you had thought of downright ignoring it. It was weird, wasn’t it? But Dasom had quickly carved a toddler-shaped hole into your heart. Truly, you had said yes before the message was even typed out.

And so now you stare at the tall apartment building in front of you, definitely feeling more nervous than before. You knew that Namjoon had to be well-off to afford a weekday chauffeur, but damn did you not expect him to be this well-off.

It seemed today was the day to expect absolutely anything.

You enter the opulent building, signing in at the front desk before entering the large, mirrored elevator. The beating of your heart picks up the more floors you pass, and you can’t help but fidget with your appearance. Namjoon had said it would only be you three, which you guessed was supposed to calm your nerves but really, it did anything but that. The mere thought of eating dinner with Namjoon was nerve-wracking. But now you were about to eat dinner and enter his home; you had no fucking clue what you were getting yourself into.

The doors slide open, and you step into the hallway. A single door could be seen at the end of the hallway, so you quickly make your way over. You stop right in front, taking a deep breath in before pushing the doorbell. A beat, a crash, another beat, then-

The door swings open, and your breath catches in your throat.

Namjoon looks heavenly as always, but seeing him in clothes other than his usual black slacks makes your heart do a cartwheel. God, this is dangerous.

“Ms. ____!”

Before Namjoon can form a hello, Dasom is running past him and wrapping her small arms around your legs. “You came! See daddy! I told you she’d come.” her tongue pokes out of her mouth, aimed straight at her father and you stifle a laugh.

“Did he think I wouldn’t?” you ask, eyebrow arched as you glance at Namjoon, who seems to have a permanent pink hue on his face.

“He said you wouldn’t!”

“Oh, really? What else did he say?”

“He said I had to help him clean either way!”

“Alright, Dasom. That’s enough.” He says firmly, clearing his throat and trying to act as unaffected as possible. His eyes shift to meet yours. “Why don’t you come inside?”

As much as this day really sucked for Namjoon, today had been… different. Not all too much. Of course, getting up was the hardest part, but he had decided to make Dasom her favourite breakfast meal instead of her usual cereal. He had also made sure to get her all the toys she had been wanting, and planned their day out to do Dasom’s favourite things. Namjoon just wanted this day to be special for her. That was all he cared about.

But when Dasom had asked him to invite you, he had hesitated.

Dasom had never spent her birthdays with anyone else but Namjoon. Not that it was intentional, but Namjoon liked to have this day just for the both of them. Because that’s how it’s always been. He didn’t know what it was about you that made his daughter talk about you all the time. Or why she wanted to spend a birthday with you. But how could he deny her? And so, the text was sent.

And now, as Namjoon puts away the dishes while you sit on his couch, he realizes he hadn’t thought of her today. Not as much as the years before. Dinner had been so... nice. It felt nice to have someone else around. Namjoon loves Dasom, but he hadn’t realized how distant he had gotten from everything that had once seemed to be the centre of his life.

Namjoon closes the dishwasher, exiting the kitchen and making his way to the living room. He places the two glasses on the table before pouring the dark red liquid.

“I hope you like Merlot.”

“Oh, please. Anything’s fine.”

You take the wine glass, sending him a thank you before taking a drink. “So,” you lean back, “remind me how to play this again.”

“Ms.____ I told you. You have to take a block without knocking the tower over,” Dasom shows you by pushing a middle wooden block out, “then you have to place it on top, like this.'' She places the same block on top of the tower.

“Ah, right! I just need to make sure if I want to win.”

“You can’t! I’m the best!”

“Oh really? And what about you?” you turn, brow raised and eyes playful.

“Pshh,” he scoffs, leaning forward. “Who do you think she takes after?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever lost a game so quickly.

Namjoon watches as you close Dasom’s door quietly from the hallway before you make your way back to the family room. “She’s out like a light. I guess all that tower building got to her.”

Namjoon snorts. He feels oddly disappointed as he watches you gather your things to go. Was it weird that he wanted you to stay? “Do you need me to get you a ride? I can call Jin to drive you home.”

“No, it’s fine! Really! I already ordered an Uber anyway.” You grab your coat near the door. Before Namjoon can unlock the door, you touch his shoulder. “Listen, thank you for inviting me today. I know you probably wanted to spend this day together instead, but I... “ you inhale, because you aren’t sure of what you want to actually say “thank you.”

Would it be weird to say how much better you made today? Probably. “You don’t… have to thank me. I think I should be the one doing the thanking. I really wanted this day to be special for Dasom and you… you definitely helped. So, thank you.”

The door opens, and the light of the hallway fills his dim flat. “Guess we’re even then.” you smile before turning, making your way to the elevator. Namjoon shuts the door once the sight of you is gone, but the smile on his face remains

“Guess we are.” he whispers wistfully

Perhaps stopping at a flower vendor when you’re already running late was a bad idea, but Namjoon wasn’t thinking about time. He had seen the bouquet of flowers and imagined the huge smile that would stretch across Dasom’s face, and that was all he needed to swerve into the left lane.

Now, though, as he anxiously watches the cars in front of him move a foot forward after thirty minutes, he’s sure he should have just left the fucking flowers alone.

Namjoon doesn’t know how long he’s been shifting his eyes from the traffic to the watch ticking around his wrist, but by a miracle, the cars start moving. Slowly, then he’s speeding down the highway, praying to the skies above he’ll make it in time. Even if he arrives in the midst of the dance, he can’t miss this recital. He won’t.

He sighs in relief when he sees the familiar glass building, though it’s cut short when he sees the parking lot. No available place in sight. Fuck. Namjoon is sure he looks insane right now, swerving around the parking lot in search for an empty spot, or really just any fucking spot that looks like it could fit his monster of a car.

Then the clouds seem to open up, and right near the entrance is a vacant spot. Namjoon swears his mouth almost waters at the sight. Quickly speeding around the lot, he parks, but not before flipping off the angry parent who tries to beat him to it. Namjoon exits his car, quickly grabbing his coat and the large bouquets of flowers from the backseat. He runs to the entrance, practically throwing the shriveled paper at the ticket clerk.

Namjoon slows as he nears the theatre doors, taking a deep breath before calmly opening it. He had completely forgotten to book seats in advance, so he’s not surprised to see the velvet seats filled to the brim. When he looks to the stage, he’s relieved to see that there’s still time until Dasom comes on.

Now, Namjoon knows he’s not the most… balanced person. It’s common knowledge that he trips over his feet and knocks things over sometimes. (Oh, but definitely more than the average person.) Now, if you were to ask Namjoon if he pays attention to his surroundings, he'd say yes.

But if you were to ask Namjoon what he tripped over, he wouldn’t know. It doesn’t matter, because now there’s a furious mother with a horrendous bob cut glaring at him, and what he thinks to be a broken camcorder on the floor. The only thing he can manage is an awkward smile and an even more awkward apology. Namjoon offers to give her the cost for repairs, hell, even offers to buy her a new one. The woman snatches the bills from his hands but she doesn’t go back to minding her business like he thought she would. No, instead she starts to argue with him, in the middle of her child’s recital, no less!

Namjoon can’t do anything but stare at her as she blabbers on about how horrible he is for throwing her camcorder on the floor. (Not like it had much life left, that thing looked like it was from 2007.) She’s damn near spitting on his face, and causing other parents to turn around and glare at them. As if it was his fault. Who knew she had such an attachment to the damn thing!

A hand lands on his shoulder, and for a second he’s sure it’s security ready to escort him out of the building. But when he turns, he’s surprised to see it’s you. Like an angel had ascended from the clouds to save Namjoon from the wrath of a ballet mom. And just like that, you’re leading him away, taking a seat two rows before the stage. Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of the empty seat beside you.

It’s that feeling again, and Namjoon’s palms start to get sweaty as he takes a seat. “Jesus, thank you for that,” he whispers, relishing your quiet laughter that follows.

“Of course. She was probably a blink away from going full-blown Karen on you.” you tease.

“Oh, and that wasn’t?”

“Oh, Joon, you haven’t seen how angry ballet moms can get.” you both laugh, huddled together as if you’re sharing a special secret. It seems so natural. As if this is where he’s supposed to be. So much that Namjoon almost doesn’t catch the nickname, but how could he miss it when you say it just like she used to?

The stage lights darken, and Namjoon is grateful for the excuse to look elsewhere. He’s sure if he would have stared at you for just a bit longer, he would have done something completely and utterly stupid. “This is her.” you whisper, and Namjoon buries the thought away.

A blue hue shines across the stage before the soft melody begins to play, filling the room with the sounds of strings and keys. One by one, tiny swans begin to come into view, prancing around the stage. Namjoon catches sight of Dasom, looking adorable in her white tutu and he can’t help the proud smile that makes its way onto his face. He watches with adoration as she does her pirouettes, and maybe there’s some water overflowing in his eyes as they finish their dance, bowing towards the audience.

You both stand, clapping and cheering the loudest, uncaring of the stares from the snobby rich parents because you’re both too damn proud of Dasom to care. For a moment, Namjoon pretends that it’s different, simpler. That it’s not only his child on stage but yours. Ours. He thinks he likes the sound of that too much.

Once the show ends, you lead Namjoon backstage where the buzz of dozens of girls talking fills the air. You tell him that you need to check in on the other kids and disappear through a hallway. He spots Dasom quickly, or rather, she spots him.

“Daddy! You came!”

Namjoon lifts Dasom with his free arm, twirling her around before placing a big kiss on her forehead. Her giggles fill him with delight, and he doesn’t care that his cheeks hurt from how hard he’s been smiling. “Of course I came, angel. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He places her on the ground before he grabs the bouquet of sunflowers from his other arm. The sight of her favourite flower makes Dasom jump with joy. She takes the flowers, and Namjoon silently coos at how much smaller they make her look. Then she spots the other bouquet of flowers in his arm. She scrunches her brows together, about to ask who those are for before her eyes catch something behind Namjoon.

“Ms. ____!”

“Dasom!”

Dasom jumps into your arms, and you laugh at her enthusiasm. “You did so well! I’m so proud of that pirouette!” You twirl her around once her feet hit the ground, smiling as you watch her stumble slightly. Namjoon can’t help but smile too.

“Look what daddy got me, Ms. ____! Look!” Dasom lifts the flowers up, almost shoving them into your face.

“Wow, these are very beautiful, Dasom!”

“Look! He got you some too!” she giggles, and you look at her confusedly then at Namjoon. He sighs, looking pointedly at Dasom despite the cherry hue making its way across his cheeks. She giggles once again before running to her friends. “Dasom!” but it's futile.

If it weren’t for the consistent chatter, Namjoon’s sure there would be an agonizing silence to fill the space between you. You walk closer to him, looking down at your shoes bashfully. “Ah, these-” he takes the bouquet from his arm, “these are for you.”

You looked surprised to say the least. Eyes wide and glassy, your mouth falling ajar. “Wow, uh, really?” you ask, glancing up from the bouquet. He nods shyly.

Listen, he had only planned to buy Dasom her favourite flowers. But then he caught sight of these beautiful yellow roses, tips painted a light amber orange. Somehow they reminded him of you. And the way you had left him with his heart feeling lighter for the first time in years the other night. Maybe it was a way of saying thank you. He’ll admit, he didn’t think it all the way through, but the way you’re smiling at him right now makes him think it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

There’s a moment where it seems to just be you and him, despite the tons of parents and children running around. He’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes drop to his lips, if only for a millisecond. Namjoon wants to say it. God, he wants to say it so badly. “Listen I… I’ve been meaning to ask you,” his voice fades away as his eyes catch yours. Hopeful. Beautiful. Glimmering.

Just like hers.

“Do you, uh, need a ride home?”

And the bubble bursts.

You step away, looking at anything but him and he hates it. He despises it. He wants you to look at him like that again. He wants nothing more than to pull you back and kiss you senselessly, like his mind is screaming for him to do. But he can’t. He can’t do it for some fucking reason and he almost wants to cry in frustration because why can’t this just be easier? Why is it so hard to move on? You don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better than what he can offer you. And that thought keeps him still.

“Uh, sure.”

Quiet.

Say something, idiot! Tell her what you’ve been dying to say! Just fucking say it!

Namjoon hates himself for the next words that tumble out of his mouth.

“Let’s find Dasom.”

The drive to your house is just like it was before, except this time there’s no chatter to fill the emptiness. Dasom is sound asleep in the backseat. You've never seemed more distant than now, facing the window, body pressed against the door. You had almost begged to go in the back with Dasom, and Namjoon doesn’t know why he didn’t just let you.

How did it come to this? This wasn’t what he wanted. This night wasn’t supposed to go like this. Everything should have gone differently.

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever fix this. If things will go back to normal. If he completely ruined it. But he’s too afraid to ask. Too afraid to know.

Namjoon has never hated the quiet more.

The sight of your apartment complex fills him with dread. All he can think about is all he wants to say, all he should have said, all he wants to take back. God, Namjoon wishes he could take it back. If only there was a way to turn back the time. Why had he been so afraid to make a move? Why did it hurt so much? But he knows going back wouldn’t help. Not when he doesn’t know if he would have done it differently.

His car comes to a stop, and the doors unlock. He faintly catches the small thank you before the passenger door slams shut. Namjoon watches as you make your way up the pathway, feet moving briskly and it feels like he’s watching you walk away from him.

You’re shuffling through your bag, looking for your key. And fuck, is he really just going to this go?  Is he that stubborn that he can’t see past himself? He can’t. He can’t let you go. Not like this.

Well do something, dumbass!

The door of his car is thrown open, and before he can overthink it-

“____!”

You still. You turn.

Namjoon shuts the door. He walks up the steps and stops a few feet away from you, but he feels like he’s miles away. You look up at him, questioning. Your eyes aren’t the same ones. Not like you looked at him before. Yet they’re still warm. Inviting. Namjoon is tongue-tied, and all those words he wanted to say are gone now.

“Are we… good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I just…” he scratches the back of his neck. “That moment back at the recital. I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” you say, simply. When he looks at you, he can’t tell what you’re feeling. You’ve blocked him off. “Namjoon, really. It’s fine.”

But is it really? He wants to ask. But he doesn’t. It’s quiet again, this time the sound of the wind rustling the browning leaves above filling the space. Still.

“I… god, I don’t know why this is so hard. Ever since, you know,” you don’t. “I… I didn’t think I'd ever get an opportunity to…” he inhales, unsure of what he wants to say first.

“I just feel like I ruined it so carelessly.”

You don’t say anything for a few moments. You only stare at him, really stare at him. Like you can see through his mirage, through the walls he’s spent so long building up. You’re taking it all, but there’s nothing he can take back from you.

“You didn’t.” you whisper it so quietly, Namjoon would have thought his mind had taken pity on him. But a smile slips onto your face. Unlike the other ones. It doesn’t fill him with joy. It doesn’t give him butterflies. This one hurts.

And he knows you’re telling the truth.

“This… It might take a while.”

The wind picks up. The leaves rustle. The cold, biting.

“That’s ok. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Your lips are bittersweet on his tongue.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN TO KARLA !! ILYYYY <3

[stressedspidergirlsfandomblog]

So like mild book spoilers I guess but the legend is all that the Witcher will come back from (Avalon) the land of apple trees if he's ever needed.

So imagine, modern day is happening. Let's say the Continent was Europe. Wherever you want. Imagine that Dandelion is reincarnated. Ciri can hop time and place, so she could just show up. And in the books Yen is with Geralt already.

So imagine Dandelion showing them around (Ciri has already visited) and they do things like treat Geralt to all sorts of foods and experiences and it's just mind blowing.

Yennefer laughing when they try ice cream for the first time. Geralt being shocked to see people of all genders showing PDA. But not like at a party, people just smooching on a street corner.

Finding out with super senses that sour candy is truly horrible - to Ciri's delight and endless laughter.

Fried food.

Modern plumbing.

Electricity and libraries that anyone can access. Doctors who treat everyone. (Well. It's a magical scenario so we can pretend right?)

Like they can't even be mad they were pulled out of the Summerlands for this because so much stuff is neat.

Geralt losing his mind at an action film fight scene not being realistic. Driving Dandelion up the wall with his articulate and complete explanation of why that would literally never happen.

Holding hands in public. Lil cheek kisses and things. Excitement to try new foods. Being the history/philosophy nerd he is, spending hours at the library reading and catching up.

Of course, hunting monsters.

Zoos. Geralt talks about how he's heard of zebras but never seen one,(book canon) so imagine Dandelion taking him to the zoo and he just loses his mind. The petting area cracks him up because it's lame farm animals. And he's like no thanks.

The little ocean petting area is neat bc most of his ocean experiences include monsters. And while the octopus watching them in it's tank is freaky AF the little pettable sharks are pretty cool.

Just imagine them all having a nice day together, and living in a cozy flat or small home that has enough space. And Ciri pranking Geralt a lot with him basically going "that sounds wrong but I don't know enough about it to dispute it."

Imagine them all going to a monster movie or watching a show like Buffy and Geralt thinking it's a comedy because that's not how monsters work at all.

Or a horror film and he's just disgusted by all the fake blood and mistaken details and cannot stop complaining: If she had just gone right. Or picked up the knife. that blood splatter is ridiculous. People like this shit?

And modern Dandelion of course goes by Jaskier or Julian depending on how well he knows people. He plays his lute sometimes, his guitar others, his keyboard others. He's working on a doctorate at uni where he student teaches and loves it. He also routinely has small gigs with some friends all around town. In summer he travels more and plays in other areas.

Yennefer still dresses like Yennefer but in a modern vibe.

Geralt (book) still wears all black but he is very attached to soft shirts and jeans with plenty of give for range of motion. He likes hoodies, too, thinking of plenty of miserable winters spent freezing his ass off. He still wears his gloves a lot, and is weird about strangers touching him. He's still Geralt but he's very excited about nature documentaries and gets livid about history ones talking about aliens building things he saw built. Or people desecrating graves.

"you want monsters? Curses? This is how you unleash curses Dandelion!"

"We know, Geralt, we know." *Patpat*

*angry/indignant spluttering*

He deeply enjoys modern medicine when he gets sick for the first time. Other than the taste which leaves him spitting and wondering if Ciri is fucking with him again. She isn't, but she did so film it for the views. She adapts fine to modern life, having shown up before. She still goes back to her own timeline and place here and there but overall stays with her family.

Geralt's other favorite invention might be the washing machine and dryer. Since he keeps getting his clothes dirty hunting down monsters "just couldn't leave the graves alone they said. Might have artifacts they said. Fucking idiots" he no longer has to rinse them in streams and put them on wet, he can come home, strip, dump them into the washer on the setting that rinses extra, and then take a shower. Come back, put them in the dryer and have them warm and in his hands again in less than an hour.

Yennefer doesn't wear a lot of clothes that can go in the machine but she appreciates how pleased Geralt is about it all. And if she's being honest on chilly nights she puts their blankets in the dryer before bed so it'll be warmer.

Dandelion feels more at home with them around. He's happier. His students notice his hulking boyfriend coming to visit and bringing his daughter. She's super hot but has a really bad scar on one side of her face that twists her mouth a little so she keeps her hair over it. Any time Geralt or Dandelion see someone staring at her they mean mug the shit out of them.

The students are deeply confused when they catch their student teacher making out with his boyfriend but later see said boyfriend come in with a dark haired woman he holds hands with and kisses a lot. Speculation runs rampant and so do rumors.

It upsets the status quo even more when Yen comes alone once and they hug and touch and kiss some, and a few students see it. A few smart ones figure it out and some hate her and some hate Geralt because they can't figure out who's cheating on who.

End of year some brave soul asks which one he's dating and he's like ??? Both??? (Even if Geralt is usually the buffer between them bc he gets far less annoyed about the little things when people think aliens built Kaer Morhen. Fucking stupid! - so he doesn't much care whose coffee cup got left out. It's not his, it's too bitter. And there's pills with just as much stimulant so why drink something that tastes so bad?)

Also please imagine them trying to explain to Geralt why he can't wear athletic wear 24/7. Like no you cannot wear sweat pants at all times. No you can't wear skin tight underarmour I don't care about your range of movement people are staring at you. You wear this to work out in. no, you cannot wear tight pants made for running out and about especially without a jock strap c'mon man.

Please wear jeans and a normal t-shirt.

Also can I just say: therapists now exist.

[doctors-star]

13 and/or 17 (... cowboys 🥺 pretty pls?) (but totally fine if u wanna do smthin else)

prompt list

cafune - the act of running your fingers through the hair of someone you love

cruore - it literally means “flowing blood”

It’s a warm day out, dusty and dry under an impossibly large, impossibly blue sky. Now that it’s early afternoon and the worst of the midday heat has burned off and dissipated, the town is bustling out again into the streets, in and out of shops and ducking around riders and carriages. It sure isn’t the ideal time to unleash a room’s worth of unruly children who’ve all been cooped up since lunchtime upon the town in the vague hope they’ll make it home in one piece, but in all honesty there’s no good time to do that and they’ve got to go eventually.

Ainsel will get ‘em reading and writing, but they sure as hell ain’t some kind of charitable institution for bored youths.

Opening the door on such brightness and warmth requires serious blinking and squinting and no small amount of internal sorrow as the wall of heat hits Ainsel square in the chest and invades their cool, shaded front room. Not for the first time, they consider the merits of simply opening one of the rear windows and posting the children out of it one by one; not for the first time, the idea is dismissed. The kids would enjoy it entirely too much. Said children are presently scrambling up off the floor and making a break for the door, slates and tin lunch pans hastily shoved into small satchels, baskets, or simply jammed under one arm, and Ainsel steps neatly to one side to allow them free access to the door. For all that the kids bullied Ainsel into teaching them, they sure are always glad to get out at the end of the day.

“See you on Monday, then,” Ainsel says easily. The elder Diaz boy and Mary Wilder both twist to wave at them over their shoulders, but then they’re back to corralling their littler siblings and trying to get them to hold hands nicely for the walk out of town and up to their family ranches. The other kids pay him no mind at all - just tumble out into the street and turn their faces to the sun like little sunflowers. Little Jesse Rainey turns a little circle in the dust, swirling her skirts carefully so as to show off the new printed calico to best effect; she’s a little too used to being the saloon’s darling, if you ask Ainsel, all dressed up in pink with blonde hot-ironed ringlets, but she’s also one of the brightest kids in the class at only six years old. Ainsel reckons she could be the next schoolteacher in ten years or so, if an established schoolmaster could be prevailed upon to examine her and find Ainsel’s informal schooling up to scratch.

Two of the boys have immediately begun a small scuffle, the way young boys are apparently wont to do; Ainsel sighs, and steps forward to separate them (curse all, if one of them isn’t a loose Wilder at that) - but is beaten to the punch. There’s a sharp whistle and the clink of spurs as boots go from horseback to street, and to Ainsel’s great surprise Max Wilder jumps back and sticks his hands in his pockets, looking up at the sky as his bare feet scuff at the dirty street. Were it not patently absurd, given the quantity of eye witnesses, Ainsel would say the boy was attempting to look entirely uninvolved.

Ainsel, amused, turns to raise an eyebrow at the newcomer. Will Williams catches their eye for a fraction of a second - enough for Will to roll his eyes, barely, in commiseration - and then he turns his unimpressed gaze upon the Wilder boy.

Max feigns surprise and delight well, for a nine-year-old of no particular theatrical bent; he beams at Williams with his hands tucked neatly behind his back. “Hiya, Doc,” he says through a gap-toothed smile. “How d’ya do.”

“All the better,” Will says, all dry and proper, “for knowing that you are safe at home after school and not fighting with the other boys, just like you promised me you would be. After all, we agreed on good behaviour if you were to come out to Plum Creek with me tomorrow. Didn’t we?”

Ainsel presses the knuckles of their fist to their mouth to ward off a smile as Max darts apologetically forward, spouting apologies and promises of better behaviour for ever and ever if only the Doc - that is, Mr Williams - wouldn’t tell his pa and would still take him out to the river to look for tracks. It’s more grovelling than Ainsel’s ever managed to extract from a pupil for bad behaviour, but then, Ainsel only ever promises letters and numbers, and Max seems under the impression that Williams is going to provide frogs and snakes and half a dozen other natural wonders, so.

Will scratches the back of his neck. “Well, alright,” he relents. “I - I am going to tell your pa, mind, but if he doesn’t say otherwise I don’t see why you shouldn’t come.” Max does a little victory dance and then returns to his classmates, bragging all the while about the things he’ll see out by the creek. Will himself tips his hat politely at Ainsel. “Afternoon.”

Ainsel is aware that they make Will Williams nervous. Many things do, but Ainsel reckons they do a better job of it than most folks; this is somewhat ironic, in many ways, as a fair few things make Ainsel anxious too. If they could get the measure of each other, Ainsel thinks they oughta be friends - they’d like a person to commiserate with about being thrust into a job they ain’t really qualified for, and not-a-doctor Will Williams seems like a good choice - but Williams keeps careful distance from Ainsel, even in broad daylight in a street full of children, and Ainsel ain’t hopeful. They offer a smile anyhow. “Afternoon, Williams. What can I do you for?”

Will nods gently at Miss Rainey, his own face turning gentle. “This one’s wanted at home,” he says with a smile and Jesse blushes and beams, pleased with the attention. “She’s to pick out a new ribbon at the store if she can keep tally of how much we spend and write it up neatly in the saloon books. How’s that, Miss Rainey?”

Jesse puffs up her chest with pride. “I shall have a blue ribbon like Mary Wilder’s,” she says with certainty.

Will offers Ainsel a flicker of a grin. “Jayne Rainey figures your schooling ought to be good for something,” he says, and if anyone else in the town had said it Ainsel would have winced - but Will’s got more books than clothes, same as Ainsel, so they offer a quick grin back. If only Ainsel could remember what they were doing before they woke up in Danser some years back: that way, they could say for sure if they went to college like Will, and Ainsel might feel a little less like, maybe, the local nice, nervous naturalist oughta be taking classes instead of the local amnesiac with a scary-clever horse and the books which they may or may not be qualified to own and read. Knowing that kind of thing, actually, might go a long way towards some kind of friendship with Will Williams, too.

“I figure so too,” Ainsel agrees, instead of voicing that, or anything like it. They beat down the impulse to seek answers, confess worries, force a confidence - to say hey, Williams - you wanna take a look at Edelweiss? Nah, nothing’s wrong; only, sometimes I don’t reckon she’s really a horse. You know anything about that? Only Will wouldn’t. Ainsel knows as much as they reckon they’re gonna, honestly - there was a trade, and for whatever they gave up they got Edelweiss in exchange. And maybe something else, too, but they’ll be damned if they know what.

Ainsel tries very hard to unthink that particular thought.

“Ainsel says I could keep a school,” Jesse is telling Will with pride.

“I’m sure you could,” Will replies with a little smile. Ainsel hadn’t figured Will as one for children, but then Jesse Rainey and Max Wilder are small forces of nature; if they take a liking to a person, it’s hard not to be endeared. And Jesse is the saloon proprietor’s daughter, and Will rents a room in the saloon, and Jesse is the saloon’s darling. Will shoots a glance at Ainsel. “You’re - you’re training up a replacement already?”

Ainsel inclines their head at Max Wilder, who is crouching in the dust with a stick and drawing around the hooves of Will’s square, broad-chested stock horse. Ainsel remembers Will defending his choice to Finn - Will’s horse looks more like a small draught horse than a good or fast rider, but she’s quiet and she stays still while he’s out watching animals - and indeed, though the horse is gently nosing at the boy, her hooves are staying obediently planted as he natters away at her about prints. “Should say you were, too.”

Will huffs gently at Max, who entirely fails to notice. “It was an accident. Alright, let’s get going before your parents come after me wondering where you kids are. Max, are - are you going to walk us home?”

Max bounces up, catching up the horse’s reins and bringing her over with the practised ease of anyone born and raised on the Wilder ranch. “Sure! Can I ride?”

Will carefully lifts Jesse up into the saddle. “Ladies have to ride, Max,” he corrects. “When I was little, my brother always-”

And though Will stutters into silence, Ainsel - sort of hears the rest of the story anyway. Their cards have made their way into Ainsel’s hands without them noticing and the odd paintings are switching and shifting before their eyes as they shuffle idly, and then stop. The card is of what might be a tower, and what might be a cart, and what is almost certainly a lady; the colours twist the eye and every line slides into the next until what had started as one thing is something else entirely by the end.

If you were going to play poker with these cards, you’d probably call this one the Queen of Spades.

Do not play poker with these cards.

But Ainsel looks at the cards, and the strange, illusory lines that leave only impressions, and sees with odd and abrupt clarity a young man with Will’s face but without his glasses and with a shadow of unruly stubble. He is perhaps broader than Will, too, but the resemblance is clear. And in the card, the young man grins and sweeps a small child up into a massive bear hug. He kisses the child’s hair - once plaited, Ainsel thinks, but now entirely loose and wild after a day of playing - and places them with great care and reverence on the back of a tall, thin black horse. The child, the little girl, giggles as the boy kisses her hand, says she is a princess, and runs an affectionate hand through her loose, dark hair to tidy it away before placing his hat on her head. The girl’s hands push the brim up out of her eyes - eyes which are doubtless, doubtless, Will Williams’ eyes - and Ainsel closes their own eyes, and wishes they had done so sooner.

When he opens them again, it’s just the Queen of Spades once more. Like nothing ever happened.

“Well, I, I guess you can ride behind and keep Miss Rainey steady,” Will is saying when Ainsel folds his fingers over the painted cards and looks up once more. He doesn’t seem quite so steady as he did before as he hoists Max up onto the horse’s back.

There’s no way to tell him what Ainsel knows. They wouldn’t, anyhow - Will never said, and wouldn’t thank them for disrupting the life Williams has carefully built for himself. But Ainsel would like, somehow, to communicate that Will’s big brother had seemed nice; that Will, as a kid, had seemed happy with him; that Will didn’t have to give up on his childhood and on the nice boy who had run his fingers so gently and fondly through his kid sibling’s hair, just because he’d changed over the years.

Ainsel kinda misses the memory of their own childhood, sometimes. Maybe someone had once been so affectionate with them, too.

Will catches Ainsel staring and tilts his head in query. Ainsel shakes themself and offers a small smile. “Y’all ride safe, now,” they say. “Oh, and Max Wilder - you tell your ma you’ll need shoes for the walk before the next week is out, ‘cause it’ll be getting colder and you can’t have Will Williams carting you home every day.”

“Sure will,” Max calls back, grinning and swinging his bare feet from high up on the horse’s broad, grey-dappled rear. “Bye, Ainsel!”

“Goodbye!” Jesse says, holding firm to the pommel as she shifts to look back. “I’ll show you my ribbon on Monday.”

Will just inclines his head and takes the reins in one hand.

Ainsel fidgets the cards in one hand. “Be seeing you, Williams,” they say carefully. As the party moves away, heading for the general store, the Wilder ranch, and home, Ainsel flips the top card over and over in their fingers, and hopes against hope that they wouldn’t be seeing Will Williams at all.

--

There are days, Ainsel knows, that they don’t sit fully right with Finn Holden. It’s a different kind of discomfort to wrong-footed Will Williams, but it’s there nonetheless - sometimes they catch Finn trying to look at them without looking at all, out of the corner of his eye or in a mirror or in the eyes of someone else who is looking at Ainsel, and they know that he knows that they know.

Like now: hunched over a little table in the saloon littered with glasses and an incomplete set of dominoes, just the two of them, and Finn’s looking over Ainsel’s shoulder. Ostensibly, eyeing up the liquor behind the bar; in reality, examining the back of Ainsel’s head in the smokey mirror behind the glasses. Ainsel prods the double six morosely and tries not to let it bother them. It does seem unfair, really, that Finn doesn’t bother people the way Ainsel does. That Ainsel bothers Finn, but not vise versa.

They think maybe choice comes into it. But Ainsel doesn’t even know if they made a choice, way back whenever they did whatever it was to land them in Danser Town with a horse and cards and no recollection at all of how this came to be. They might have been totally helpless to their fate, same as Finn had said he was, when Ainsel had cornered him after two weeks and demanded to know what, exactly, the fuck had happened to Finn to make him smell permanently of clay and sawn pine planks and blood.

(If Ainsel is honest with themself, they suspect that they did have a choice. They suspect they made a deal. The knowledge that their fate has been entirely self-wrought is not helpful.)

“Hey,” Finn says, looking at the table rather than Ainsel and tacking a domino on the end of the six. Is that better? Ainsel isn’t sure. “You been...well, lately?”

Ainsel regrets that Finn has cause to have concern for him. Unfortunately, there are only so many times a person can be seen screaming blue bloody murder at a horse for being a demon in passive, judgemental mostly-horse form before people start taking that person aside and asking about how things are going at home, and that number of times is one. “Grand,” Ainsel says levelly. They’re not wholly lying, either; they haven’t found themself lost and memory-less in a forest for nearly three weeks, Edelweiss hasn’t tried to bite them for their many and varied sins today, and Johnny McPherson had offered them a friendly holler across the street that had actually done disproportionate wonders for Ainsel’s mood. But, also, Finn isn’t looking at them straight. He’s looking the way that Will says you oughta, when you’re a little too close to some creature that can kill ya but hasn’t tried yet; with the kind of caution which is always recommended in old wives’ tales about ghosts and devils and the fae.

Finn nods. “Glad.” Then, abruptly, as if bored of being careful (not unlikely) Finn slumps back in his chair and eyeballs Ainsel straight on. It’s - oddly comforting, actually. “I’m sick of dominoes. We don’t even have half the damn pieces.”

They have all bar two. Ainsel sweeps the tiles together into a pile and starts dividing them into two sets of seven and a discard pile, pushing them across the sticky table with long, pale fingertips. “You want to play that Matador game Johnny was trying to teach us?”

Finn huffs. “Tryin’ is the word. If you can remember the rules, then I’m Saint Bridget. I sure as hell can’t.”

Ainsel tips their head, conceding the point. Something about sevens, and it being annoying that their set lacked the five-two; Ainsel had been a bit drunk at the time. “Well? We’ve got to play something. I ain’t gonna just sit here and talk to ya, no-one’s got that patience.”

Finn laughs, loud and inelegant, and Ainsel grins. “Aw, you ass,” he says cheerfully, spinning his glass on the table with careful flicks. “Let’s play cards or something. I’m a demon at rummy.”

“The saloon hasn’t got any cards any more, remember?” Ainsel points out.

Finn frowns. “It don’t? Why not?”

“Jesse Rainey nicked ‘em and gave out the picture cards to the other kids as favours. And, also, as a kind of basic hierarchy system, far as I can figure it.”

“Aw, hell. Why does that kid get away with everything?”

“Y’all reckon she’s cute.”

Finn grins. “She is! It’s like being mad at the kid on the Pear’s soap ads, or a gopher.” Ainsel spreads their hands - well, there you go - and Finn laughs. “Alright. You got cards, though, right?”

Ainsel rides the sudden lurch of horror at the idea of anyone else even seeing the cards, let alone using them. But - they want Finn and Will and everyone else to see them as normal folk, they gotta Be Normal. Have a normal horse, and a normal life, and normal playing cards. Any number of things can cause amnesia - hitting your head real hard because your horse, which maybe hates you, kicked you or bucked you or something. Trauma. Heatstroke. Normal shit, which ain’t magic no matter how much you side-eye it or examine it in mirrors. Finn might’ve just - imagined it, or had a vision like some religious folks do. Ainsel could have dreamed up any number of things and thought them real - what he’d seen of Will could be nothing. Probably says more about Ainsel than it does about Will anyhow.

Be Normal. Ainsel reckons they can do that. Most all other folks seem to.

Ainsel brings out their pack from the inner pocket of their duster, shakes out their wrists with a confident movement, and manages two whole shuffles before dropping most of the pack. The beautiful cards flutter and spin as if caught by some wild, summer wind and scatter over the table and floor in an unstoppable cascade. Finn tips his head back and laughs like a hyena.

“You’re the clumsiest fuckin’ card shark I ever seen,” he says delightedly.

“I am not a card shark,” Ainsel says rather absently as they scrabble to collect up the cards on the table.

Finn snorts. “I believe it! But what else you carryin’ all these damn cards all the damn day for, huh?” He gets off his chair and drops to the saloon floor, hunting down Ainsel’s precious cards before they get trampled or lost between the boards.

“I don’t know,” they bite back rather crossly; one of the cards, the Jack of Hearts, has just jumped away from Ainsel’s grasping fingers and they have to stand and lean over the table to snatch it up from Finn’s chair. Ainsel glances at it habitually as they sit back down and briefly forgets how to breathe.

The card, like every other, is not a standard face card. The young knave depicted always seems to form out of the swirling lines upside-down, no matter how Ainsel looks at the card, with an inverted heart on his chest like a drop of ruby-rich blood. And for a moment, whilst Ainsel watches, the Jack looks out at them with Finn’s eyes that are not Finn’s eyes. The heart pulses, once, and slides away and dissipates; the eyes go dark and glazed; and Ainsel is looking at a dead man in a churchyard. Some shadow oozes into the edges of the card and at the same pace blood leaks thick and dark from the man’s chest. There is no helping him; he is gone. Ainsel knows it. And then, he sits up. Abruptly, like he’s awakening from a nightmare. He inhales hugely, or tries to, as though he had been drowning, but chokes on his own blood. The man spends quite some time on all fours, coughing and retching and hacking up blood, but this slows and he sits back on his haunches to assess the pool of blood. He wipes at his chin with the back of his hand and grimaces - not with pain, more like disgust. And then he looks up - and this time, it is Finn with Finn’s eyes who is looking straight out of the card at Ainsel.

Ainsel’s fist closes around the card, barely managing to avoid crushing it. They look up in time for Finn’s head to appear in triumph over the edge of the table, clonking his temple gently against the underside as he does. Finn brandishes a handful of cards at Ainsel with a grin, and Ainsel sees him bleed out and wake up over and over in their mind.

They take the cards. Slide the pack back together. Tuck them deep down in an inner pocket.

Finn blinks at them for a moment. “So no cards today, then.”

“No,” Ainsel says shortly.

Finn nods solemnly. “You wanna talk about it?”

Absolutely fucking not. Ainsel slides the dominoes back across the table a little too violently, sending ivory tiles skittering against their empty glasses and shoves a couple Finn’s way. Finn, who is alive and well and not all that damn normal either, so damn it all; maybe no-one in this town is normal enough to start shit with Ainsel, and everyone ought to fuckin’ remember it. Ainsel fixes their gaze on the base of a glass, in whose curving reflection they can watch Finn without actually looking at him. “Come on, Saint Bridget,” they say roughly. “Double six starts.”

There is a short pause, and then Finn’s hand closes over the glass which Ainsel is using to look at Finn without looking at him, and they can’t see Finn’s reflection anymore. “Alright,” Finn says quietly. “Matador it is.”

[houseguest]

FE3H ATLA au

Okay, so this is going to be entirely self indulgent and probably really wordy but I really love atla and just started re-watching it for the umpteenth time so here we go! (BIG SPOILERS FOR FE3H AND ATLA!!! also if anyone wants to know more or if there are any specific questions about the plot changes or my interpretation of this au then please feel free to ask)

So first off, I just want to say that I’m basing everyone’s bending on where they were born, where their house name was established, their story-line and/or whether they have a crest, so some of their bending types may not match their personality or “style” but I feel like it’s a little more realistic

 I’m gonna start with Byleth, the Avatar themself!

Jeralt is a non-bender so this was a surprise to him, he was a little overwhelmed... he had a little experience with Airbending because he used to work at the Church but the other elements were a lost cause to him, he doesn’t get the whole “spirituality” thing

Byleth is not a master of all the elements by the time they get to the church, but they do know some very specialized moves they learned from wandering teachers and benders that were part of the mercenary group

They didn’t necessarily “start” as any particular bender since they aren’t really part of the other nations/territories, but Sothis is the Avatar spirit (this world’s version of Raava)

Their bending style is very rough, and usually involve other weapons, so they are very skilled in non-bender fighting techniques and hardly uses their bending during mercenary work so most people don’t even know they are the Avatar

On to the Fire Empire! 

Edelgard is a Firebender naturally, but due to the experiments, she became an artificial combustion-bender (with eye markings on hands not forehead, just to hide them) The stress of this new power turned her hair white

Hubert is a non-bender, but is trained in all manor of Firebending fighting styles and techniques. He fights with long-distance weapons like throwing knives and kusarigama (chain scythe)

Dorothea is a non-bender and still wants to be a singer, BUT she is a chi blocker too, and learned the technique in order to defend herself from stalkers and aggressive fans

Ferdinand is a Firebender and tries to compete with Edelgard in Agni Kai all the time. He’s actually a really good bender, but has trouble adjusting to other bending styles because he doesn’t want to stray from his family’s noble bending techniques

Bernadetta is a Firebender and she hates it. She is terrified of fire, and usually sticks strictly to bows. Her backstory is the same, but now we have the added trauma of her father being a Firebender too...

Caspar is a non-bender that is good at close-combat. He finds bending really cool and loves learning the movements, but is very dedicated to showing everyone how powerful non-benders can be

Petra is also a non-bender, but she was taught extremely specialized moves from her country, she’s a lot like the Kyoshi warriors in the atla series, but she is also an experienced chi-blocker and teaches Dorothea a lot of moves

Linhardt is, sadly, a Firebender. He doesn’t really like it, because he sees it as very violent and he hates blood and I would also assume burning flesh. He loves studying bending variations though! He’s one of the first to figure out lightning redirection

The Water Kingdom!

Dimitri is a Waterbender but he has a very aggressive, Firebender-like fighting style when let loose due to practicing in that way with Edelgard as kids. He tries to suppress it with calmer movements. He is good at finding water in tough environments and knows how to take it from the air

Dedue is a non-bender and specializes in brawling and close-combat. Bending is just a normal part of his day, so he doesn’t really care much about it and actually knows a lot of moves to counter other’s bending

Felix is a Waterbender and was taught much of what he knows from Glenn. After his brother’s death, he became closed off from everyone and trained his Waterbending all the time to catch up to his late brother. He is the best Ice-bender among them

Mercedes is, surprisingly, a Firebender. Since she was born in empire territory but fled to the kingdom, she had a hard time finding someone to teach her. She resorted to having lessons from Waterbenders, which developed a very unique Firebending style

Ashe is a non-bender. He always wanted to be a knight, but worried they wouldn’t accept him due to being a non-bender and his criminal past. He was even more passionate when he discovered an official kingdom group of non-bender warriors established by one of previous Avatars, Loog

Annette is a Waterbender and is extremely clumsy with bending ice. She is determined to perfect her bending, and attended the same bending school as Mercedes, so she learned some Firebender moves too

Sylvain is a Waterbender, but is just terrible at it. He usually sticks to weapons like spears, but still uses it sometimes for tricks. He thinks people only care about how he is a bender, so he hates bending in general. Miklan was a non-bender and was replaced as heir because of that

Ingrid is an Earthbender. Since house Galatea was split from house Daphnel which is in the Earth Alliance, Ingrid inherited Earthbending after years of non-benders in the family. She is very good at keeping Sylvain’s flirtations at bay with her powerful attacks. The betrothal necklace Glenn gave her is very special to her 

The Earth Alliance!

Claude, despite being the leader of the Earth Alliance, is an Airbender. This makes many people suspicious, but he dismisses it as much as possible, saying that one of his parents was a wandering Air Nomad or sometimes saying they were a member of the Air Churches

Lorenz is an Earthbender despite how strange that sounds. He is very formal about it, and argues why an Airbender is the leader of the Earth Alliance in order to raise his position. He later becomes a Metal-bender

Hilda is an Earthbender along with her brother Holst. She doesn’t like to Earthbend though because she thinks it’s too much work and too dirty. She is very good at it though, super skilled

Raphael is a non-bender that uses a lot of close-combat weapons. He doesn’t care too much about bending in general, but he thinks Earthbenders are pretty cool, mostly just because a lot are strong

Lysithea is a natural Earthbender, but due to the experiments she became an artificial Lava-bender. Because only certain Earthbenders can Lava-bend, Lysithea’s body was not made to bend it, often burning her skin without even touching the lava. The stress and experiments shortened her lifespan and whitened her hair

Ignatz is a non-bender and is a talented bowman. He finds bending to be beautiful and he loves to paint benders doing their thing. He doesn’t have much experience with benders, so he is very interested in what they do

Marianne is a Waterbender; a descendant of Maurice who was an infamous Waterbender that discovered and mastered Blood-bending. She can blood-bend as well, but never does as she sees the ability to do so as a curse. She hides her ancestry because of this

Leonie is a non-bender and looks up to powerful non-benders like Jeralt. She takes every opportunity she can to one up benders with her non-bending skills; she thinks a lot of benders feel entitled just because they can bend so she wants to prove that non-benders are just as powerful

The Air Churches!

Rhea is the high priestess of the Air Churches, and is a master Airbender. She is the daughter of the Avatar spirit, Sothis. Sothis was a spirit so she conceived immortal half-spirits. Nemesis (who is like Vaatu here) had killed Sothis’s physical form so Sothis kept jumping to different people, thus beginning the Avatar cycle. 

Rhea encouraged bending to be the highest social standing in Fodlan as she wanted to create an Avatar to carry on Sothis, so many houses tried forceful infusions of bending in order to gain status. There are only two living examples of this forceful infusion: Edelgard and Lysithea

Seteth and Flayn are both Airbenders and are also immortal half-spirits. They both take to hiding and reinventing themselves after every one hundred years or so to not gain suspicion

The only other benders in the Church are Catherine, who is an Earthbender, and Hanneman who is a Firebender. Catherine is the inventor of Metal-bending, and very well known and praised for discovering it

[polar-stars]

facts about eizan,marui nakiri and ibusaki family pls

Thanks for asking....It was a bit difficult for me to answer but I tried my best (also sorry, I changed the order....I memorised it differently for some reason ovo;;)

The Eizans:

- The Four Horsemen of Apocalypse + Nene //slaps herself

- (I already feel that this will be a challenge to explain...I’ll try my very best to convey what I want to say but uhm, apology in advance if the following just sounds like a scrambled mess) The Eizan-Family has much of a reputation within the culinary world and, well, let’s just say it could be a more positive one. While adulthood, his marriage to Nene and becoming father did make Etsuya less extreme he’s still not exactly a saint. While he did take a step back from dirty tactics and straight up cheating in his business strategies, he’s still ruthless and, you could possibly even say, brutal in his ways using his intellect and understanding of the market to defeat his opponents fairly. Combined with the stigma the Eizan-name had before he even married Nene, Etsuya is regarded as someone that you should think twice about messing with by most. Meanwhile Nene might not be known for destroying people’s businesses, but she still has this frosty, rigid aura that a lot of people consider to be intimidating. She’s known as excellent, and intellectual, chef and her opinion is hold in high regard by a lot of people. Lastly it’s also evident that her three sons massively respect her and that she’s also capable of making her husband shut up with just a simple displeased “Etsuya”. The Eizan-men are not exactly known for hearing out other people much so the fact that this woman is capable of, for the lack of a better word, “tame” these four with just the use of a scowl at times is very respectable and in its own right fearsome to a bunch of people. As a couple, Etsuya and Nene generally make much of a formal and stiff impression in public. They don’t really emit friendly-social-butterfly-energy in my humble opinion and their standoffish, unreadable, strict expressions makes even some of the best conversationalists gulp when approaching them. Then there’s also their sons. While Kei, being the youngest, is not much on people’s radars at this point and is mainly just commonly regarded as “the youngest”, “the third one” etc. Masashi and Shigeo are personalities that a large part of the cooking Elite is pretty aware of. The two stand high in Totsuki’s social hierarchy and are feared by a large part of the students. ALL IN ALL, this is a long way of me saying that the name “Eizan” does send shivers down a few people’s spines and they are considered as very intimidating by many. (God, time to catch my breath)

- Nene might be regarded as the cold ice queen from outside but in private she kinda is the one that holds the family together. While she does have the last say in this household and while she can most definitely be pretty strict, she does still deeply care about the family the most openly and often makes attempts to get them all to spend time together. While not as extreme as other mothers, she can be pretty rather doting towards her sons in her own way. Nene was raised in a clan with long tradition and history after all and while I don’t think she had the most personal relationship with her parents at all, I still think that a clan like that would teach her that family is everything which is why she values it a lot. Also I think, she actually saw them very, very frequently. It’s a contrast to Etsuya, who I believe was raised by two very distant people who were rarely around and when they were they really beat the idea in his head that money is above everything. (This upbringing is what made it hard to him picturing himself as dad when Nene first pitched the idea to him. He does try his best though)

- Etsuya’s aunt just lives a couple blocks away from where the Eizans live. Therefore the Eizan brothers could get there on their own at a certain age. Etsuya’s aunt often watched the kids, if she wasn’t out travelling which she would do a lot in her old age.

- Sometimes Nene and Etsuya were forced to take their children with them to work when Etsuya’s aunt was out of town once again and they couldn’t find a babysitter. Masashi always went with Nene, while Shigeo went with Etsuya. With Kei, they alternated. Nene’s service staff actually really likes Masashi as he’s very respectful and polite with them since they’re adults. They always shower him with praise when he practices his cooking. Meanwhile Shigeo is commonly regarded as brat by Etsuya’s employees but of course no one would say that out loud. Sometimes Etsuya would order one of his workers to look after Shigeo and entertain him for a bit. This task is feared because Shigeo is hell to babysit. He does what he wants and thanks to his cleverness he often manages to run off, so he can wander around the company and do his own thing. This makes the employee tasked to look after him look pretty bad in the eyes of the Boss.

- Etsuya is the one who spoils everyone. He does really want his family to be treated to the finest things in life and he makes sure of that. Nene is more practical in her spendings and not as quick to buy something for her sons as Etsuya is.

The Nakiris (This will be centered around RyoAli-Family since in my, uhm, ✨universe✨ they’re the ones that mainly go by Nakiri. I hope they are what you meant, anon)

- The apex of Japan’s culinary landscape and widely recognised in every other place of the world as well. The Nakiris are heavily respected and cherished within the industry, as they’ve always been. Their opinion is hold in very high regard. The strive to impress Nakiri Alice, the headmistress of Totsuki, specifically inspires a lot of Avantgarde dishes to be created. There’s no denying that the Nakiris are practically equal to royalty within the culinary world.

- Alice is the heart of the family. While her side of the family had always been more chill and wholesome, she still saw (and was pulled into) the drama that the rest of her family loved to cause. She does not want any of that no more now that she’s the head honcho of the Nakiri clan. Alice really puts effort into keeping the family together even if her pride keeps her from admitting this out loud.

- Alice’s and Ryo’s love to measure each other in cook-offs has gone down to their two twin-children as well, who love to face-off against each other, their Yukihira-cousins and even their parents. The competition between family-members is to both Nakiri-twins a friendly one. Even the extremely battle-heartened Lola feels so.

- The Nakiris are the hosts of an annual summer ball that takes place in their mansion at a set date each and every year. Describing said ball as an important, fancy event would be an understatement. It’s a truly grandiose and massive festive with a lot of elegance to it. Wether you’re invited to it or not can definitely be used as a factor to determine how high you stand in the culinary industry. Alice really has fun planning it each and every year. Ryo helps her out whenever he can while also Leonora gives a lot of suggestions over a video call.

- Ryo, Alice, Lola and Mona as family are honestly pretty wholesome. They don’t have a lot of fights, stick together and while Alice and Ryo are damn busy they still never fail to reserve some of their time for their family.

The Ibusakis

- The Ibusakis are pretty peaceful and, except for Kasumi Ibusaki as time goes on, they don’t get into trouble too easy.

- They live very close to a forest and since the two Ibusakis partly grew up in said forest both of them developed a very strong affinity for nature. Yasu in particular does not desire a life in the big city at all. It’s too loud, too crowded and also too polluted for him there.

- Ryoko is the one that needs breaks from their idyllic, quiet life the most. This leads to her occasionally hosting a few get-togethers. They’re not the most fancy thing out there but since it’s Ryoko doing the planning they still do have style but also a warm, light-hearted atmosphere. And of course, sake. People love to attend these and social butterfly Ryoko never runs out of people to invite. Shun meanwhile is not a very big fan of his house being invaded, but given how much fun his wife has he grits his teeth together and pull through the night. His daughter Kasumi is in strong agreement with him.

- Ryoko and Shun have a bit of a differing opinions on where to vacation as well. Ryoko mainly enjoys city-trips and all of its sightseeing and the exploration of a different culture. Meanwhile Shun just wants mountains. Nothing but mountains. The two were never prone to argue much though and are good at making compromises. So Ryoko and Shun alternate each year of who gets to choose the travel spot. So one summer it’s Barcelona for the Ibusakis and the next one’s its a hiking trip once again.

- One source of drama in the usually so peaceful Ibusaki-Family is Shun’s father. He does not have the best relationship to him as he felt that he was never really there for him. Shun’s dad in his old age does realise though how distant he had been all this time to his son. So he wants to try to be a good grandfather to his grandchildren at least. However there is the fact that Shun has not fully forgiven him yet.

The Maruis

- In comparison to the Ibusakis, the Maruis are more lively. There’s a lot more bickering going on in this household and people also often point out that the Maruis have an insanely quick pace to their conversation.

- Yuki enjoys throwing some parties (or going to some) even more than Ryoko. She’ll host a party in the Marui’s apartment every two months or so. But even more she attends parties of others and since she lives in Tokyo and has quite a large number of contacts she barely ever runs out of them. Sometimes she drags Zenji with her and lets one of her brothers watch the kids or, if it’s on weekend night and the host said there’s other children on the party as well, takes them with her as well.

- Yuki has a pretty good relationship with the rest of the Maruis as all of them adore her sunny, jolly personality while also appreciating how visibly happy she makes Zenji. Zenji also gets along fine with the Yoshinos (even if they can be a little exhausting at times). And this ultimately allows the two Marui-siblings to grow pretty close to both sides of the family.

- Yuki plans most of the family activities. She is not a big fan of spending the weekend merely at home. Here and there, Zenji wants to go somewhere though. And usually it’s just this or that new exhibition in this or that museum. Chieko prefers Zenji’s ideas for the most part, while Takahiro LARGELY prefers Yuki’s. He does not like most museums because you have to be all quiet.

- Ever since Yuki knew she’d get a daughter, she had been excited for the day where her daughter would start engaging into romance. Yuki has always been super excited about the idea of Chieko getting a boyfriend someday. She watched A TON of romance movies with Chieko in preparation basically and once Chieko’s on Totsuki she also keeps asking wether there’s any good-looking boys close. What she would have never expected is Etsuya Eizan’s and Nene Kinokuni’s second son to become Chieko’s major suitor and she does not know in the slightest how she should feel about this. Zenji meanwhile has never been the largest fan of his baby-girl getting a boyfriend to begin with and he knows very well how he feels about Shigeo Eizan: Dangerzone. Most of Chieko’s circle (her own family, but also the Ibusakis and also her friend-group) views the ShigeChi-situation as a Red Riding Hood/Big Bad Wolf kind of thing in one way or the other and a lot of them make it no secret. Once Junpei Miyazato appears on the scene both Yuki and Zenji actually make an effort to practically “market” him to Chieko as they’d both, at this point at least, prefer to see their little baby with him. Little Takahiro though meanwhile sees that there’s no guy that has quite the same effect on Chieko as Shigeo has.

[stealinghero]

How would Masamune, Kojuro, Ieyasu, Mitsunari, and Yoshitsugu be as dads? :333

N’awwwwww. How cute!! So damn cute!!!!!!!! *___*  (Edit: Mitsunari surprised me completely! O_o)

~~~

Masamune:  

- he would be awkward because he loves his kid and wants to spent time with them, but he is the leader of a clan AND a province.

- still he tries his best to have at least an hour per day only for his kid where he will listen to them, spar with them or just watch them play with friends. He really needs this time for his own good.

- he remembers his own childhood very clearly and wants some changes for his own kid but the most will stay the same, like the strict education and training

- he tries to be a strict dad. But he simply can’t. he needs Kojuro to be strict but alone with his kid? They are allowed almost everything

- when his first child is born, he will need a second to understand what the fuck is happening. He will go outside and just scream and nobody knows why, there are just too many emotions. But when he first holds his son, he cries from sheer happiness

- his child is HIS child, understand?! There is no one better and greater and more beautiful and whatever. NO. His child is the best in everything. At least for the first year or so. Touch them and you’re dead. there are only a few people that are allowed around his kid and he will defend it with everything he has.

- depending on the reason/situation, he might go a bit soft with the fights, leaving a few wars out and sometimes even denying Sanada

- he will always listen to his kid’s problems and tries to teach them about leadership. And he wants a friend for his kid, like Kojuro was/is for him.

- scoldings are regular because his children will grow up to be like him and he seriously has a problem with brats. 99% of those fights are resolved with both parties screaming and sulking, he never laid a hand of his own kids.

~~~~

Kojuro:

- he is the strict dad that seemingly forbids everything remotely funny. But he’s completely worried about his children’s safety.

- he wants his kid to study and get a good education and a good marriage later on because without anything they will be lost and he was just lucky to have Masamune (and his father)

- he might collapse and need a long time to get well again. Worrying about Masamune and the wellbeing of Oshu and the Date clan AND the Katakura clan and his kid and his s/o and... he might need a huge scolding not to worry or he will pay the price with his health

- he’s seldom home ecause of his responsibilities and feels guilty about it. Often he isn’t even there on birthdays or other important dates and sometimes wonders if it was a good idea to have a kid. he thinks too much about it and if his children tell him that he’s not home anymore and he’s a bad dad, he might commit suicide because of the shame he’s feeling.

- when his kids are a bit younger, he often gets a “Vacation order” from Masamune to spent some time with them (”Go home already or they won’t know your face at all!”) but he still is with Masamune with half a brain and he might seem a bit distracted even with his own kids

- but if he ever stops worrying about everything and just is with his kids, he’s the most childish man ever. there will be games of tag and he will not be tired to spent time with his kids, coming home late with a sleeping child on his back, both of them dirty as hell, just smiling and competely exhausted

~~~~

Ieyasu:

- well, that’s that. He has the power of Japan and instead of working with that, he’s playing in the garden with his kids.

- he seriously wants to spent time not only with his kids but with his s/o and he will be a bit more distracted from work that his retainers might scold him

- after a year he finds a good rhythm and does his work in the mornings and nights when his kids are asleep or busy with training/school/friends

- he is pretty soft but he can and will scold his children if they did anything bad. he prefers if his s/o does the scolding

- he talks a lot with his kids and explains them everything. Why it’s important to work hard even if it’s no fun. And why friendship is so important even if you maybe don’t like everyone

- he’s pretty laid back and if it’s something good, he might decied things above his s/o’s head. If it’s something bad, he often goes “Ask your mother”

- he will never defend his kids per se. If they did something bad they need a scolding and even a beating, but if they did something good, he will also praise them for it

~~~~~

Mitsunari:

- he’s so awkward as a dad and sometimes a bit too much of everything, especially with embarrassing topics like love or sexuality

- he’s a proud father and a strict one. He praises his kid for hard work and demands it in the same sentence

- there are certain things he just NEEDS of his kid, like a good education, manners and good fighting

- his perfect kid would be a daughter. He would love her to bits and would defend her with his life. Every man that comes close to her would be inspected very closely if he’s worthy enough just to talk to his daughter.

- he smiles a lot more since he’s a father and has gone a bit softer in fighting. But he will still kill anyone that dares to trash talk Toyotomi!

- he would never admit it but he’s the type of dad that wakes up in the night and goes to the kid’s room to watch them sleep peacefully.

- he’s not afraid to forbid something dangerous or scold them if needed. He’s a father and not a friend.

- he will ask for advice. And if he has to, he will swallow his pride and even beg Ieyasu for help if his child needs it. He would give his life for his kid without thinking twice.

- even a girl learns basic fighting from him to defend herself. She will be schooled like a boy and this makes it diffiult for her to find a good match, because she’s not some silent beauty (even if she’s very beautiful). Mitsunari defends his education with the simple thesis that behind every  good man is a better wife watching her husband’s back. His daughter could defend a castle or replace her husband as Lord of the province if needed.

~~~~

Yoshitsugu:

- he’s pretty laid back as a father and sometimes a bit too much because he allows his kid to learn from their mistakes which leads to some dangerous situations sometimes

- he has a lot to do and not always time for a kid. but he often will watch them play while he works

- he can be a bit cold towards his kid, telling them not to cry and to stand up again after they fell. He mostly does it because he is afraid that one day he won’t be there and his kid is too spoiled to survive on their own.

- sometimes he thinks it’s better of his kid if no one knows he’s their father because of his nature and sickness

- he will teach them himself and is a very strict teacher, which clashes with his personality as a father

- he knows Mitsunari can survive on his own and he will try to spent time at home, caring for his little family as much as he can while working on plans for Mitsunari

- it pains him to see his child playing with others because those are things he never could do in his own childhood. But on the other hand he’s happy for them

- he often brings home gifts for his s/o and kid as an apology that he is how he is. He knows that his family loves him and that gives him strength to go on, even when the odds are against him of his sickness is acting up

- he leaves the “embarrassing” talk to his s/o

[thoughts-n-paper]

Eve woke up every day with a sense of gratitude.

She thanked her fate for waking up buried in the soft linen sheets, for the luxury spread on her table every meal and for the smile she was blessed to see on her daughter's face every day. She did believe that it was her karma that her circumstances took her from the dirty and worn down roads to the desirous mansion she breathed in. It was that along with her daughter's persuasive powers, but it wasn't all for nothing like they say that suffering does, after all, builds character. And she saw the proof of that every day in the image of her step-daughter, who stood just a meek, timid and impressionable little girl. Ella and Anna, the step-daughter and her blood, even though Ella was the older one, Anna stood over her, both in stature and disposition. It was difficult for her to see Ella as a girl born in privilege and still so distant from the qualities of the rich she had been envious of in another life.

Anna, on the other hand, had taken to the elite lifestyle like fish to water. Eve was so proud of her child. Anna was always the talk of every ball they had been to ever since her debut. Every room that she walked into, she knew how to assert her dominance over the crowd. Eve's heart grew an inch every time she would hear other girls talk behind Anna's back, which meant that she had made her place, that the others were envious and that she and her daughter were on the right track. And then will follow the pitter-patter of the timid Ella, stopping to greet every low life on the street and letting the dirty children rub their hands all over the expensive silk that Eve brought for her. She tried to change Ella at first, polish her into a lady of a respectable household, but she would not listen, "My mother says to be kind to the young and respectful to the older." "My mother said not to let anyone return empty-handed from your door." "My mother this and my mother that..." Eve was tired of listening to what an angel her mother had been and had given up now. Ella was a lost cause, but she was certain Anna would be the one to outshine every other woman that walked their land.

Eve had always had faith in Anna even when they had no riches to call their own, and even though she had no education, she carried herself like a lady of a palace. Royalty was in her every demeanour but just not in her blood.

She went to Anna's room to wake her up, and on her way from the window of the corridor, she could see Ella in night clothes, feeding the local beggars, even though Eve had asked her not to a million times. She shouted from the window, "Get back inside, Ella!" and rushed downstairs to give her a piece of her mind to Ella's face.

"You wretched girl, how many times do I have to tell to stop feeding strays. Do you know what this food costs your father? Still, you insist on wasting it on lowlifes. Next time let them pay for it, or a better idea, you finish it yourself. At least I will have one less mouth to feed." She dragged Ella, by her hand, inside the house with whispers of Ella following behind, "I was just trying to help."

Eve distinctly remembers the days when she was counted among the lowlifes too, and she despised herself for it. She knew first hand what a burden these people were, how shameless they were to ask the rich for everything, nobody ever showed her mercy for it, and she didn't want them to either. Now that she is rich, she is still no one to be changing the nature of society. Eve found her way out, and others ought to too. If they cannot, it's not her fault, just her pleasure.

On the breakfast table, Eve sat admiring her daughter. "Mother, can I have pink petals in my bath today?" Anna asked her.

"Of Course. I will ask Mrs Peters to go and get some from the garden."

"But I want the one from Ella's garden."

"Of course you can."

"But..." Ella said quietly. "Only I go in there."

"WHAT?" Eve was always tired of Ella's mumbling. "Speak clearly." She shouted at her. "Lady of such a big house should be heard from miles away."

Ella stood up, "Only I can go in that garden."

"Then you can go and collect it for Anna," Eve replied and gestured with her eyes for Ella to sit down. And Ella, without any quibble, sat back in her chair. Another thing Eve despised about her, she would never rebel or revolt. Ella would do what was told to her without any objection or question. Eve would have put up a fight, and Anna would have done the same. It made her furious, "Go to your room Ella!" she said with a sigh, exhausted with trying to comprehend the girl in front of her. Ella stood up and ran out of the room sobbing.

"Ugh! She is frustrating." She said to her daughter.

"Its okay, Mother. You try so hard. Should I ask Ella to fetch the petals for your bath too?"

Eve looked at her with a smile and nodded.

Later they went into the parlour where they sat going through the magazines to find a new dress to get made. It had been their favourite thing from their earlier days when they were living shelter to shelter. They would often sit by the streets and watch rich and lavish ladies step out in their best dresses and fantasize about having them one day. Anna wanted a new dress for the dinner party they were supposed to attend when the father returned from his travels. From the corner of her eye, Eve could see Ella plucking the flowers from her garden, and with every bud, she plucked she would apologize to the plant. Eve chuckled and thought to herself, 'What a silly girl'.

She often felt guilt at shouting at her, but then she would see Ella do something like this, and she would say to herself, 'This girl needs tough love.'

Anna's sudden gasp broke her chain of thought, "Mother, the Duke's son would be attending the dinner next month." She stood up and pretended to faint, "He is so handsome! Oh, Mother, I must have the best dress and the best hair and the best shoes. He should lay his eyes on the best satin when he sees me. Oh mother, how wonderful it would be if he marries me." She took Eve's hands and pulled her into a twirl. They both laughed and fell on their respective chairs.

Although far fetched, Eve could imagine it happening. Anna wasn't the most beautiful, but what she lacked in traditional looks she made up in her talks.

They decided to go to the shops that very day to choose the fabrics. In her excitement, when Anna told Ella about the Duke's son, she just smiled and went back to tending to the garden. "You could have at least faked some happiness," Eve said to Ella as soon as Anna left.

"But I am happy, mother."

"Speak loudly, child. You are always laying there in your garden, feeding strays or cutting grass. Clean yourself up and make yourself useful. Tidy the house or fetch some groceries. Do something.", Eve said in rage and in that rage, she picked up a glass planter and dropped it on the ground. "Clean that too," she said over her shoulder while stepping out of the small metal gate.

That evening they were sitting surrounded by the linen they had bought earlier. "What did you bring for me, mother?" Ella came running into the room.

"No. Don't come here." Anna quickly pushed her away from the sheets. "Oh, mother, she will spoil them."

Eve lifted her head, and there stood Ella in a white apron covered with black clouds, the hair wrapped with a dirty scarf, and her hands had black grease all over them.

"Oh, God, Ella." Eve took her head in her hands.

"I'm sorry. I will go clean up." Ella said embarrassingly.

The next morning Ella asked Eve again, "What did you bring me yesterday?"

"Well, Ella, dear, dirty girls like you do not get pretty clothes."

"But what will I wear to dinner."

"You can wear something of your mother's. I am sure she had a lot of fancy dresses in her closet," Eve said dismissively.

Eve knew it was unfair to Ella, but she also knew that Ella had enjoyed certain luxuries all her life. She wore beautiful dresses and had been swooned over since she was a little girl.

It wasn't fair that Ella had all the toys to grow up with while Anna had to fight with other girls over a doll they found in the donation pit. It wasn't fair that Anna had to collect the money herself doing odd jobs to buy the cheap replica of a dress she saw at a big store. A little unfairness ought to give Ella some perspective.

Over the next week, as Anna would sit with the dressmaker and play with laces, Eve would catch Ella sitting in her room, trying to sew up the holes in the old fabrics. And while Anna spent her evenings reflecting on the lights coming from the expensive jewellery she was trying on, Ella would be off to the market to feed the stray animals. While Eve and Anna would go for tea parties with other socialites to measure up the competition, Ella would be playing with the cook's children in the house.

Eve was not extremely surprised with her behaviour when she first met her. Ella's father is just as naïve as her, which was why it was easy to get him to marry Eve. Eve does not want Ella to grow up like that. It is above all the responsibility of a mother to teach a girl how to be a lady.

"Mother!" The scream of Anna echoed in every room, and everyone ran at once.

"Anna, what happened?" Eve inquired.

"It does not match. None of it matches." Anna fell to the ground crying. In her hand was the dress she was to wear for the party and on the bed lied the beautiful necklace specially made for her. The dress was pink, the gems in the necklace were a lighter shade of pink. Eve understood Anna's sorrow. Eve too would have been crying had it have happened to her.

"This is not so bad," Ella said dismissively, and both Eve and Anna shot her a deadly look. "No, it is bad." Ella quickly corrected herself. "I mean, it is fixable. Is it not?"

"Go away, Ella."

Ella left the room, trying to justify her statement to herself as Eve sat by Anna, failing to console her.

They finally decided to look for other options. Before leaving for the market, Eve went to Ella's room to give her instructions for dinner. She opened the door and paused. She had to avert her eyes for a second from the light coming from the window. But as soon as her eyes adjusted, there stood a goddess-like beauty in front of her. Ella was wrapped from head to toe in gold, with enormous earing dangling from her ears, and she wore blue shoes which sparkled like diamonds while her auburn coloured hair lay lightly against the shimmer of the fabric. It took Eve a moment to realize that the princess in front of her was the same girl who was willing to touch the new material with grease-covered hands.

"How do I look, Mother?"

"No!" Eve shouted and slammed the door behind her as she walked away, flushed with anger.

Ella, in that one moment, had proved that it doesn't matter how much Eve and Anna lather themselves with expensive dresses and learn the proper etiquettes, they would never be equal to her. There was a type of light, the same one Eve had noticed in her husband, and Eve knew she would never be able to reflect that. It was something to be borne into, not something a person can acquire by marriage or adoption.

But even though Eve may not be able to grab that light, she would not let it blind her.

She turned around, walked up to Ella's room, took a deep breath and knocked.

"Anna is crying a lot. She is so sad. Ever since her father passed, this had been the happiest I had seen her." Eve lifted her hand and lightly wiped a drop from the corner of her eye. She took Ella's hand in hers and lifted her head to look her in the eyes. "I know you think it is stupid. You do not care for such superficial things. It is not a big deal to you."

Eve could see in Ella's eyes a slight hesitation. She might need a little more convincing.

"Anna has always been so disappointed. I know you cannot comprehend growing up in poverty. Everyone in our circle doesn't treat us as equals. You know where we come from, the shit hole we used to live in. People have trouble accepting us. They snark at us, talk behind our backs. This night, the party is her only chance to change that, to elevate herself. I hope you understand.", saying this Eve burst into tears. What surprised her was how genuine they turned out to be. Eve didn't think about it at the time, but as she watched her little girl twirl in shining golden circles, she realized how much of it was true.

On the day of the party, their father reached the house early in the morning. And both the girls did not leave his side since then. He always brought gifts for the girls from all over the places he visited. Beautiful scarfs and porcelain dolls, shining cutlery and perfect mantelpieces, and all the silk he could fit in his bags. He adored the three women and never shied away from showing it. After lunch, Eve and Anna went into their rooms to get ready for the party while Ella and her father went to the garden to plant the flowers he picked up from his last destination.

The garden was their sanctuary, which had brought them together when Ella's mother died, and they continued the tradition years after. Eve would often watch them from her window, and her eye would catch the light reflecting off them, and she would feel this ping of jealousy that the most expensive things would not be able to diminish.

The entrance hall was lit with the most extravagant chandelier that Eve had ever seen. Everyone was standing around with drinks in their hands, and there seemed to be a cluster of men collected at one end and a slightly bigger cluster of young women at the other. Few people were dancing, and a few stood staring and judging them. Eve's husband took her hand and directed the three of them to the cluster of women.

"Excuse me, Mr Charming." He said while making his way to the centre of the circle.

"I wanted to introduce you to my wife and daughters, Ella and Anna." He faced Eve, "I met Mr Charming in Paris. I told him that he must visit our small town."

"Well, it is a lovely place. Have you visited the lake yet? If not, my daughter would love to take you there." Eve said while handing him her hand.

"That sounds lovely." He said while kissing her hand. "Please excuse me. I must spend some time with my father's friends too."

The rest of the night, he spent a lot of time talking to Anna. Although she had to pull him away again and again from some other debutante every time she left his side, Eve could see that Anna was on the right path. She could smell the envy of every woman in the room as they stared blindingly at her dress and gasped every time she glided to another location.

At the end of the night, Eve took a breath of success as the Duke's son pulled her to a side as they were leaving.

"Ma'am, I'm afraid I must confess. I am smitten. I would love to get to know more of your daughter Ella.", this put a dagger into her heart, but she kept her smile and the sparkle in her eye intact, not to let him suspect anything.

"You see." He continued. "I have been in town for over a week, and every evening I would go to the market and around, and I am afraid I have been following Ella ever since she caught my eye. I have not been able to forget her. Your husband had been kind enough to bless me. I hope I have yours too." Eve could only nod and leave.

Anna was devastated. It took her nearly two weeks to step out of her room, and she still insisted on wearing black at all meals.

But seeing the Duke's son interact with her husband and Ella, Eve could see the light, that light, elevated. The house shone like the sun, every crystal sparkled, and every candle illuminated. The three of them would spend the evenings in Ella's garden. And watching them, Eve started to understand how to get it herself.

It was the same thing that attracted her to her now-husband, long before she knew of his wealth. That day, the baker caught her stealing a loaf of bread in front of him, and he, a stranger, bought it for her later. That was the first time Eve realized that people could light up the air around them. It was the light that made her fall in love with him. And after a while, she grew certain, that it was that light that pulled Mr Charming.

Maybe she should let Anna know about the light too.

[sunevial]

Directors commentary: What it’s like writing the various forms of inhumanity among the followers

For this, I’m going to be completely neglecting how I write Young Priest, because he’s still basically human for the purposes of the Follower’s universe. He thinks, acts, and behaves with human qualities, even if he’s really not human anymore from a physical standpoint. That being said, there are some things I have hinted on that I’ll touch on later. 

I’ll break this up into two parts

Those Who Were Never Human, aka the Old Guard (Old Priestess, Lieutenant, Advisor)

Old Priestess is probably the most difficult character for me to write in general. She is complicated and layered, probably moreso than any other character I have to write for this universe. Compassionate yet oh so cruel, manipulative yet still somewhat caring, vain and self assured yet a little fragile, never wanting to be vulnerable yet still wanting to keep her own close to her chest. She is a scorned immortal, fallen from grace and power, and it shows in her actions and her words and the very way she carries herself. Her hatred of humanity runs deep, and no amount of revenge will satisfy it, but she is so incredibly lonely and so incredibly wounded and so incredibly filled with a sorrow even she won’t admit. 

When I write her, I write her knowing she is old, she is bitter, and that she values nature and the natural world more than anything. She is always in control of every situation she is present in, and she makes her presence known. She never uses contractions, has certain words she calls certain people, and she can flip between being terrifying to sweet on a dime. You should never feel completely safe when she’s in the room, even when she’s not using magic, and every other character knows that.

Unlike Priestess, who knows humanity inside and out, Lieutenant knew nothing of humanity before his time with the Followers. He barely registers all five senses (sight and hearing being the easiest, followed by touch, with taste and smell being the most complex), and at the very start, he only really had a grasp of one emotion: fear. By the ‘present’ day, he has collected a couple more, including anger, a sense of contentment, and possibly a sense of displeasure (and that’s pushing it). That being said, he is not a creature that knows malice, and despite his cold words, he never acts out of spite or with ill intent.

Combined with that is him being someone that is barely used to having physical presence. He never walks when he can just teleport, though he might to humor his colleagues. Physical matter confuses him, so anything that isn’t a void construct is difficult for him to properly use (his aim is terrible with anything that isn’t his knife). He rarely relies on his shell to perceive the world around him, as only a very small portion of his actual self is contained within that body. Above all, through, he is a curious individual, wanting to better understand this world he now lives in. He asks questions that most mortals wouldn’t think to ask, and even if he doesn’t feel emotions, he has learned how to perceive them well.

Advisor splits the difference between the two immortals, having less direct experience with mortals than Priestess and having a better understanding of them than Lieutenant. In many respects, he seems the most human out of them, always cordial and polite and professional in his manner. He is genuinely kind when he wants to be, always open to teach others or give a helping hand because he is a researcher and he wants to see results. 

This also makes him the most unnerving at times, because his oddness is treated so casually. He makes remarks that are eerie in their simplicity, uses reality warping magic with the same care we take to breathe, and he can read emotions and minds and the future with no effort at all. I never write his magic the same way twice, because much of his powers are based in the fact that he is chaos incarnate and does not hide that. Advisor is not scary because of what he can directly do, though that’s scary in of itself, but he’s scary because you quite simply don’t know how much he can do on the sidelines. There’s a reason why I write him with a sort of surprising upbeat flair; he doesn’t have a reason to be anything but. 

Those Who Were Once Human (Witch, Bookkeeper, Huntress, Part Timer)

As we’ve seen throughout the story of the Followers, Witch used to be a perfectly normal and perfectly sane person, someone capable of truly loving and fearing the world like a mortal. She’s no longer that person. Margaret was broken and battered, reshaped and reformed into the image of the people who trained her. Her empathy and compassion were beaten out of her, replaced with a sadistic cheerfulness that rarely drops. They bound her loyalty with string and thread, made her scream until she could scream no more, and so she was stripped of fear and sorrow. She takes deals and sells to all who come to her door. 

I write Witch to be emotive but not emotional, because while you can always tell what she’s feeling or thinking based on her expression, she doesn’t feel those emotions much at all. Her words are always just a little too empty, and that’s by design. The only time that it comes through is when she’s actively trying to care, because some small parts of her still remember what it means to be human. She shows those around her daughter, and that’s why she sounds more complete when they’re talking, because it’s the only time she is allowed such a luxury. 

Bookkeeper, in many respects, is the exact opposite of Witch. Knowing she sold her soul and life for something so trivial weighs on Bookkeeper heavily, but she does her work and she does it well. She has put up walls, walls to mimic the cold exterior of an indifferent immortal while she internally suppresses all of the emotions she still maintains. Because she feels, even if she denies that she does, because that is the only way she remains herself. She has willingly remade herself before, and she’ll do it again, becoming petty, selfish, and a master of the passive aggressive arts.

There is not a word that leaves Bookkeeper’s mouth that isn’t at least partially an insult, though she may drop that streak for Witch. She will never admit to anything willingly, but she will answer at least in half truths if directly asked. Her opinions are strong and firm, unbending and unyielding because she has read enough to win just about any argument thrown her way. She hates getting her hands dirty, but she makes no secret that she will do the work that keeps her out of the line of fire because she is deadly efficient. And deep inside her, she occasionally allows herself to pity, to care, to allow herself to care.

Huntress is stubborn, stubborn beyond belief because while being mortal, no amount of physical or mental abuse could ever make her break. She is strong, she is angry, she is flawed, but she owns every aspect of herself she likes and every aspect of herself she despises. Because of that, Huntress will always be just that, herself and there is nothing the other Followers could ever do to change that. If Huntress wishes to change, that’s on her own terms and no one else’s. That doesn’t mean she is mortal, though, because she was always just a bit more than that even in life. 

Knowing this, writing Huntress becomes a balance of making her not wanting to play nice with the other Followers but more than willing to play along. Her heart is hard and cold, and she has no sympathy for the pain of the people she loves. She laughs loudly and brashly, her emotions and actions always a little more feral. Her first resort is violence and she relishes in it, because there’s only one Follower who has a true bloodlust. She is impatient, unyielding, always up to play and to hunt and to hurt. Her compassion is rough, but it is there, and she makes sure not to lose it. It keeps her grounded.

Of the mortals, Part Timer has retained his humanity the most, and that’s saying something. Each of his personalities retain thought processes are still incredibly human, each very distinct in how they act and how they feel. Some are more caring, some are more angry, some are more scattered, and some are more logical, but all still retain a fair bit of humanity when everything is boiled down. That being said, all but one of his personalities has accepted that they can’t retain that humanity forever, and the good doctor is fighting to keep what little sanity he remains.

Taken together with his condition, Part Timer’s inhumanity is written in a man who can never be whole. He has little control of who’s in charge. His actions are consistent within the personalities, but they switch so rapidly and so violently that it’s hard to predict. While he tries to keep things light and polite, he still fears his colleagues more than he trusts them, and so he refuses to let his guard down even for a second around most of them. He resists learning magic, resists accepting its use by both the people around him and himself, because the more he leans into the use of magic, the more he loses his grip on his sense of self.

Now, for Young Priest, the challenge is to write him in a way where the hints of inhumanity are starting to creep in. He’s an artist, first and foremost, and already he’s starting to get a little lost in that world. His transformation is fueled by a desire to save his sister, so he needs the ability to do magic well. Something I’ve been trying to show how much magic tempts him, how much learning tugs at his morals and at his sense of humanity. His discomfort keeps him grounded for now, but it’s starting to lessen with every step he takes. It won’t break for a long time yet, but Priestess chose him well.

She knows that the temptation will someday outweigh his humanity, and she intends to make sure that as it happens, he stays loyal and true.

[dapper-ships-herself]

@dokiqx @raudrfox2

The answer changes a bit depending on the s/i, so I'm gonna start with more general and like personal and then go into my s/is.

Dazai and I both, let's say wrestle with certain feelings about life and the world around us. When it feels like you're adrift and very little matters, it helps a great deal to have someone to ground you, and that's Dazai and I for each other. When the world is cruel, we can reach out our hands and feel the warmth, and through that feel safe and real. Neither of us are used to letting ourselves be fully vulnerable to the people around us, we're always masking something, maybe not for entirely the same reasons, but we are. Our relationship is when we both let those walls fall bit by bit, letting go of fear and trepidation. He never even thought he could feel real love before, both of us had thought we weren't worthy of it.

And Dazai is a genius, he's amazing and confident in his abilities, he can see straight through pretty much anyone, so I think why would he even want me, I'm so boring and predictable, I'm not a fan of taking risks and putting myself out there. But Dazai sees all my good qualities, he appreciates my strong empathy and my compassion, he sees how even though I struggle with my own worth I put so much worth into the lives around me, and I have a fun way of thinking about a lot of things, I'm creative bright even when I think I'm not. I become like a fresh, sunny spring day for his soul. And Dazai, his hands are so stained and his mind so jaded, even as he works to redeem himself and be on the side that saves people, he thinks there's too much darkness to ever truly be washed away. But I know that even though he's done a lot of bad, what matters most is what he's doing now; he's trying so hard to be good, to move away from the darkness that only acted as a negative feedback loop for him, that was never good for a boy with a mind like his. He is actively trying to be a good man, and I remind him of that. Neither of us are ever going to be perfect, but that's fine when we're together through our flaws. And through it all, we help each other see the beautiful things to live for.

Okay, now let's go into some specifics for the s/is.

ADA! Gillian has been through some pretty deep trauma with the loss of her little sister when they were kids, and at the time she thought she'd never ever recover from that and stay in the emotionless darkness forever, but with the help of Fukuzawa and Ranpo and the other agency members, she was able to heal. Despite the guilt and trauma that still sticks to her, how easy it would be to write the world off as simply cruel and uncaring, that's not her style. She loves the world, she loves the people in it, she knows that there's darkness but that only means that the rest of them should try their hardest to spread as much love and compassion as they can to balance that out. To Dazai, her unwavering light is strange but so calming. She's so strong in her determination to protect her family and everyone and everything that needs saving, it really touches something in him. She teaches him that it's okay, that they deserve to laugh and love and live, and she helps show him how to actively view the world for it's good parts. Even if someday it's hard, some days she's sad and can't forget the past, some days she tries very hard to push away the anger that festers in her at the unfairness that abounds, she still tries and now they can stand by each other's sides and try together. And he also knows what it's like to suffer and lose the one person who's most important, and he helps her confront the guilt that still clings to her, in fact that's something mutual. And she also, even though she accepts and appreciates her ability for how it lets her help people, it's also an ability that takes away a person's free will and can cause a lot of destruction, and she is afraid of the inherent evilness of it, and though Dazai respects how she's made the concious choice to only use it to help people, he sees her fear and helps her accept it.

Mafia! Gillian and Dazai probably have the most complicated relationship of all. Neither really wanted friends or saw the use of them, but they became each other's first real friend after he joins the mafia. They connect and resonate in a much stronger and more natural way than either were really prepared for; and then they were part of the quartet with Ango and Oda too, and she loved them all. She could be quoted as saying the three of them were probably the only things keeping her sane in the Port Mafia. And then she went away on a mission for a few weeks, no contact with her friends, and suddenly that little slice of joy she had was shattered, Oda was killed, Ango had been a double agent the whole time, and Dazai had abandoned her without so much as a good bye, much less and explanation. It sent her to a dark place for a while. She wanted to hate Dazai, and she certainly felt bitter, but she couldn't bring herself to hate him; how could she, really. She disliked being in the Port Mafia, but not only does she feel she'd have no where else to go, that if she left she'd be leaving her father, Ougai, aka the only person who's ever seen to genuinely want her around and stay that way, but her ability is literally to control darkness and too much light literally causes her pain and discomfort, it's clear to her that she was born to forever stay in the world of darkness and never be able to stand in the light. When she and Dazai eventually meet again four years after he left the mafia, there's a lot of complicated feelings too work through. She's bitter and angry and can't understand why he'd leave her like that if their friendship really meant anything; Dazai thought it was the right move at the time, he justified it to himself by reasoning that he knew she felt chained to the mafia and he had to leave quickly and cleanly in order to successfully rid himself of his dark past, he couldn't risk waiting for her to come back from her mission and having to convince her. But, really, he was afraid. After all, he's convinced that everything he desires will slip through his fingers the moment he obtains it. If he tried to hold on to the happiness she brought him and selfishly took her with him, he'd only bring her ruin some other way, and he wasn't deserving of her. He genuinely does regret it though, and it's not easy for him to admit that he was wrong but he knows that this is one instance where he was so terribly wrong. They have to work through these feelings in order to get anywhere, and she also has to realize that she does have the capability to step into the light, which she does partially with Dazai's help. There's a lot of fighting through the bullshit to finally be together.

Jekyll! Gillian takes the stuff mentioned earlier about always masking some part of ourselves to the extreme. Her ability, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, literally manifests her jaded view of the world into a physical creature of chaos, aka Hyde. And she rejects Hyde hardcore, that's why she's so unstable, destructive, and difficult to control, as well as hates her in return. She puts on the sugariest of sweet faces to try and mask this darkness, but Dazai is able to see it. He recognizes her mask easily, because he's basically doing the exact same thing. Eventually, after a lot of plot haha, they're able to help each other let go of their facades a bit and better accept themselves for who they are. They find this kinship in each other that honestly makes it easier for them to let go of their guards at least a little bit. They both hold a lot of jaded darkness with themselves, and they've both done some pretty terrible things and dirtied their hands, him in the mafia and her in the Order of the Clocktower, and they were both able to break away from that to try and become better people, and that's really nice for them to be able to relate to each other.

Circus! Gillian is, true to the name of her troupe the Circus of the Disillusioned, disillusioned about much of the world. It's dirty and cruel and not on your side. But, the circus always promoted family, the whole reason Voltaire formed the troupe was to attempt to not lay there and accept their wretched fate, that they as humans should try and create at least small pockets of a world more right and colorful. And this ideal stays with her. So yeah, they're both not huge fans of the world, but she has a more innate desire to change that, and she believes it's the duty of humans to fight through and not back away from the world through means like suicide (does that make sense? Trying to word it properly). So she actually is pretty, hm, disgusted is too strong of a word to use, she clashes a lot with Dazai's suicidal jokes. And she's too tsundere and jaded herself to outright be all flowery ~I will help you~, but that sort of discussion is a theme between them early on. Their abilities are foils for each other as well, Dazai is an ability nullifier, she's an ability amplifier, and that sort of reflects their views too.

Guild! Gillian at first seems to have the most innocent view of the world, after all she's rich and spoiled by her father, Francis. And she acts rather carefree too, like someone who's always been secure and never known difficulty. But she has known pain, and there's more than a naive rich girl beneath the surface. She's cunning and knows how to read people, she's been trained in the art of business since she was a child and had it drilled into her that you must never roll over for the world. She's also been taught that she's the daughter of the great Fitzgerald, which means she's meant for greatness too, and she hides it from her father but that's left her with a desperation to prove herself and live up to a great big shadow. But she's genuinely kind too, she loves the world for it's flaws and wants to support the people in it. So yeah, they're ways of thinking clash a bit, but at the same time they work perfectly in other aspects. At first, it's more like he's interested in her for the sort of contradictions she poses, but he starts to genuinely respect her and admire how she chooses to see kindness and work for it, how she takes things in to her own hands to make the world she sees in her mind real. And she respects him for his intellect and eventually for his resolve once she learns of his past. And respect is pretty much the bud that will bloom into love.

There's a lot of fighting to find the light in the dark and acceptance of ourselves.

I hope this was all coherent and not to rambly ha.