Minor Miracles, 3/? (2016-03-04)

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Ffion Pyke

(what is dead may never die, despite all attempts)

—

He finds the babe on the shore, swaddled in seaweed, the incoming tide lapping away at its small body. Aeron is only newly devoted to the Drowned God, but time means little to worship, and he knows what he must do.

The child will most likely die, but if so, that is the will of He Who Dwells Beneath the Waves.

And anyway, it is a far more cruel fate to leave the babe stranded ashore than to swiftly end its suffering. The ironborn are not much for mercy, but in this case, the answer is clear.

—

Except for how it is not.

Aeron names the child Ffion, for the foamy waves that carried her back to shore.

Somehow alive.

There is no such thing as a drowned woman, or a priestess of the Drowned God, but Ffion’s survival can only mean one thing.

She has been chosen.

For what? Only time will tell.

—

There is no love between Ffion and the drowned men, but they do care for her as she grows. Or try their best.

Most of the drowned men are young bachelors who know little about the fairer sex beyond how to fuck them, and even that is in question.

Balon, Aeron thinks, has one daughter, surely there is not much difference between two little girls.

He is wrong.

—

Asha will one day be a master at the finger dance.

Today is not that day.

And anyway, while Asha has been practicing with a hand axe, that doesn’t mean Ffion has–the drowned men have little use for axes, and so she doesn’t either.

Asha throws the axe, whether out of an honest attempt to play or a far more sinister reason is unknown, and Ffion falls.

That’s what happens when one is stabbed in the chest.

—

Asha drags the corpse to one of the bridges interconnecting Pyke’s towers to each other. She knows she will be in trouble if the body is found and so, in childish logic, she is making sure the body will not be found.

Asha drops Ffion off the bridge, watching it fall the entire way, until it splashes into the water with a high, white spray.

That’s half of the problem taken care of, now she just needs to clean up the blood.

—

The truth comes out, soon enough, once Balon asks his daughter. Aeron listens and sheds no tears–Ffion was not his blood, not like Asha is. At the end, Aeron only nods and says, “You have returned her to the waves. It was well done.”

Being praised by her strange uncle Damphair is not so nice as being praised by her father, but Asha nods in acceptance. That wasn’t her intent, but she is glad to know she isn’t in trouble.

Already, she is pushing this event out of her mind, shoving it into the past where it belongs. It’s not like she’ll ever see that strange girl, anyway.

She is wrong.

—

Three weeks after Aeron leaves Pyke, he is walking along the shores and hears coughing.

He follows the noise, and the drowned men follow him.

Clawing her way out of a tangled bed of seaweed, Ffion rises.

Aeron is silent. As are the drowned men behind him.

“What is dead may never die,” Ffion calls out, as if in question, whole and alive and impossible.

Aeron is startled into responding by rote: “What is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger.”

—

If Aeron is agreed to be the Drowned God’s prophet, then Ffion is something different. Something more.

Whether she be the Drowned God’s child bride or the Drowned God’s chosen vessel, even Balon, barely a fraction as religious as his brother, knows better than to dismiss this strange girl.

Asha, too, learns that despite name and birth Ffion Pyke is as much a kraken as she.

—

Ffion turns her sights to the east–to the soft and sleepy lands of soft and sleepy people.

She does not need to ask the Greyjoys to raid the Seven Kingdoms because they are ready and eager to do so, emboldened by the knowledge of having a god on their side.

It only makes sense for the ironborn to make their own attempt for the Iron Throne.

~

A/N: Ffion Pyke dies several more times, freaking out even the followers of the Lord of Light because that is just not natural. HA!

Word Prompts (V8): Vision (2016-03-03)

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Things are better when they leave–not easier, no, but better. Ash can tell. Ember has been more focused in the past few hours than he remembers seeing her in years. Eyes fixed forward on their path through the forest instead of glancing up and away. The smooth armor of her Sandshrew seems to be helping, too.

No, Ash is not jealous.

Ember laughs–soft and pleased–as her Sandshrew delicately crawls its way over her shoulder and onto her back, matching Gary and his Squirtle. She says as much, almost startling him, but after a moment’s hesitation he responds, not used to her initiating conversation.

Ash watches and listens, bittersweetly happy.

Until he gets shocked, yet again, by his Pikachu.

Okay, so maybe he is jealous. Of who, he’s not really sure. Because, yes, having a Pokemon that doesn’t also count as electrotherapy would be nice–though there’s no way he’d leave Ember saddled with this ungrateful rodent–but it’s kind of…

Ash has spent practically his whole life trying to understand his sister and, failing that, defending her from all the small-minded people of Pallet Town. But Pallet Town is his home and Ember is his twin, and it’s almost hurtful that she’s so eager and alive only hours away from Pallet Town. As if the place that he loves is something toxic to her.

“Ash?” Ember calls, glancing between her twin’s face and her twin’s unruly Pikachu, “Would you like help? Ground types are immune to electric.”

As if to showcase just how poorly he and Ash are getting along, Pikachu takes the opportunity to shock him. Yet again.

“No,” Ash grits out between his teeth, because how is he ever going to be a Pokemon Master if he can’t even handle his starter Pokemon by himself? “I’m fine.”

He is not fine.

—

If Gary is going to be honest–and he often is, to the point of being considered rude–he would admit that he thought Ember was going to be, well, dead weight on their journey. Or, at least, in need of his and Ash’s help.

Of course, he still wouldn’t have wanted to go without her–while the twins are basically a package deal, Gary is friends with her on her own merits–but he didn’t think she’d be as helpful as she’s turned out to be.

He knew she was smart–he always tried, and failed, to beat her on tests–but that never seemed to translate to the real world before. She knows how to navigate through the forest, how to avoid webs and other byproducts of wild Pokemon, how to function without her brother holding her hand.

It’s as if she’s an entirely different person.

—

Once Ember gets her Sandshrew, its as if something in her mind just snaps into place. While part of it is thanks to the adorable and possibly literal grounding force that is her starter Pokemon, most of it is simply a change in perspective.

Being stuck in Pallet Town for the past ten years was nothing short of absolute monotony. Like reliving all the most boring parts of your life without knowing why or how to get out of this cycle.

Now though? She’s a Pokemon trainer. For real.

She has played this game before. Literally. Multiple times. And it never gets old.

Suddenly it’s as if everything is clear–she’s not some extra gear in a clock, or a puppet trapped in a script. She may not be the protagonist, but she wouldn’t want to be–Ash can have the fate of the world on his shoulders–she has agency, she’s a player now.

There’s no way she’s going to give this up.

~

A/N: Here’s some more of yesterday’s Pokemon SI!OC I guess… I don’t really know where I’m going with this so… ?

Word Prompts (T2): Tangled (2016-03-02)

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It’s never said aloud–at least, not where her brother can hear–but it’s generally assumed that Ember is… a little slow in the head.

“Retarded,” Blake says, just once, before Ash flings all the fury of his tiny six year old body at him. Gary follows soon after in solidarity.

Ember, staring off into space, doesn’t notice until one of the combatants stumbles into her. At which point she blinks, startled, and shouts, “This isn’t supposed to happen!”

It’s loud enough to summon one of the school’s faculty to them, and while the teacher scolds all of the boys, Ember goes back to staring at what appears to be nothing. Of course, that’s not the case, but for the rest of Pallet Town, that’s what it seems like.

Ember Ketchum is generally assumed to be a little slow in the head, seeing things that never appear and reacting to sounds that don’t exist. Intelligent–she has the best grades at school–but she’s definitely… different.

If it weren’t a well-known fact that Ash and Ember are twins, the people of Pallet Town would probably assume that Delia found Ember in the forest; or maybe the other way around. Like one of those stories about legendary Pokemon pretending to be human. Benign, but alien.

And perhaps they’re not wrong.

—

Here is one thing Ember knows to be true: she is not supposed to be here.

After that, well, nothing else matters. Like an experiment, the presence of an observer–her presence–has altered everything else.

She doesn’t know everything that happened in Ash’s childhood–the Ash that was a character and not her brother–but already she has changed things. Primarily? The twins are approaching their tenth birthday, but Ash and Gary remain friends. Bewilderingly, she and Gary are also friends.

Somehow unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to be likely to change anytime soon. Worse, she doesn’t know why.

On the day everyone their age is to get a Pokemon from Professor Oak, Ember fails to wake up her brother. Or rather, chooses not to.

Let him sleep in, she thinks, because if he goes to the lab early, he might not get Pikachu. And if he doesn’t get Pikachu… then what will happen to the rest of the world.

She doesn’t expect to be a hero–doesn’t want to be–but she’ll be damned if she stands in the way of Ash being one.

—

The Oaks greet them at the lab, impatient but expectant. Gary, having already chosen his starter, is wearing his Squirtle like a very odd backpack. It’s certainly a less embarrassing sight than what Ember remembers from the cartoon–cheerleaders and a convertible, what was he thinking?

But what really surprises her is that the professor has, not just one remaining Pokemon, but two. Frankly, she wasn’t expecting to get one–just to escort her brother to the lab, witness his first meeting with Pikachu, and return home to Delia. Maybe she’d continue her education–become a professor or a doctor–not a trainer.

Maybe the professor, knowing there was an additional trainer-to-be, prepared an extra starter. Though, more likely, it was Gary who reminded his grandfather to have enough. No way would he be starting his Pokemon journey without his two best friends.

Thankfully, Pikachu is one of them; he and Ash get along as electrifyingly as she remembers. The other twin’s meeting, however, is far less energetic.

“I think you’ll like this little lady,” Professor Oak says, fond and indulgent, even as Ember fails to even touch the final pokeball presented to her.

“Come on, Ember!” Gary says, both encouraging and demanding.

“Yeah, there’s no way yours is going to be worse than mine,” Ash adds, before receiving a shock from Pikachu.

Ember reaches out, unleashes her starter, and falls in love immediately.

~

A/N: … to be honest, I was watching Mythbusters and only realized I missed my post after midnight. So here’s this really late thing…

I was not expecting to write a Pokemon SI!OC… but then I realized… I kind of already brainstormed this here? But in that I used the Japanese names–Satoshi and Satsuki–and I figured, given the English dubs ridiculous translations, they’d make Ash’s twin’s names something punny. Like Ember.

edit: continued here

The Many Faces of Rudiger Smoot, 5/? (2016-03-01)

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(rebels without cause)

Here’s the thing: Harold knows how to shoot a gun.

Of course he knows how to shoot a gun, he was raised by a single father in rural Iowa before the Internet was invented. There wasn’t much in the way of entertainment back there, in those days; Harold’s interest in birds was partially out of necessity.

And, above all else, regardless of its connotation or function, a gun is a machine. Harold has always been very talented with machines.

That being said, even without such a childhood, Harold still would have learned to shoot a gun. Arthur did, after all, and he grew up in west coast suburbia. Mostly, Harold blames Nathan–because Nathan is to blame for a lot of things.

Nathan, even five semesters into their MIT careers, touted anecdotes of his “grandaddy’s antique rifle collection” even though most everyone in his admittedly wide circle of friends had already heard it. There’s no way he wouldn’t have brought his best friends to a gun range at least once. And when you give Nathan an inch, he’ll take five miles and bring Harold and Arthur with him, even if he has to drag both of them the entire way.

Not that they often needed dragging.

So, yes, Harold can shoot a gun. He can shoot quite well, and many varieties of guns at that. He just doesn’t like to.

And anyway, Nathan’s been dead for years–why would he need to?

—

During their young and reckless years, Arthur got a tattoo. Harold, paranoid about identifying markers even then, did not get one. He did get a piercing–which he figured would be easy enough to hide if necessary–out of solidarity, which was close enough.

Nathan, afflicted with an all consuming phobia of needles, stood in the corner of the tiny but surprisingly clean tattoo parlor and was silently, supportively nauseated the entire time.

Since then, Arthur’s added a few more tattoos to his collection–including one with Dianne’s name and her favorite flower which secretly delighted her every time she saw it–but the first is always one of the more memorable ones, for good or bad.

Mostly good, Arthur thinks, because he looks back on his MIT years fondly, regardless of how it ended.

But everything has a tinge of sadness it seems, the older he gets. That first tattoo has been a cause for bitterness on more than one occasion–as Nathan’s name somehow became more and more synonymous with genius in the industry, as the years passed with no contact from Harold.

The tattoo is, in the way all firsts are, life changing and symbolic and probably ridiculous adolescent nonsense delicately painted over with the kind brush of nostalgia. A way to make those fleeting emotions and memories and relationships into something permanent, something that he can’t lose. Something that can’t be taken from him or ruined.

In the last few months of his life, Arthur thinks a lot about that tattoo.

—

If asked–by someone he trusted, that is, which basically means only Harold–Nathan would admit that he probably let the fame get to him. Being the face and name of an entire movement of technology–its akin to being a rockstar or an actor. Except without the drugs and sex scandals.

Not that Nathan was vice-free; but alcohol isn’t illegal, and at least his affairs were always with consenting adults. The same can’t be said for others in positions similar to his…

As if being better than scummy bastards made him good, as if it didn’t have the same results. Surrounded by the shattered remains of relationships, all of his sins paid for with the credit of genius that was never his to begin with.

Nathan hit the bottom–dove headfirst more like–and when he finally stopped to look around, all he was left with was a empty shell of a household, a company his in name only, and Harold. Who more often than not was hiding away, behind code and so many aliases that sometimes Nathan wondered if maybe Harold was just a figment of his imagination. A friend who would never leave–who can never be pushed away–no matter what Nathan did.

And, frankly, Nathan has done a lot to deserve far less.

~

A/N: … some more MIT trio! 😀

Ode to 11010201 (2016-02-29)

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On Tuesday, a dragon came to Belleview, landed in the middle of town square, and said to all who haven’t run away screaming, “I’m looking for someone named Zim.”

Needless to say, only the most foolhardy of people remained to hear the dragon. That is, only teenagers trying to prove how fearless they are, which worked out fairly well considering Zim was in fact a teenager.

“Oh,” said Freddi, tilting her head far enough back to at least attempt to meet the dragon’s eyes, “Yes, I know him. Do you want me to get him? He’s probably at home right now.”

The dragon paused, humming lightly for him which, for the remaining bystanders in the town square, felt a bit like a mild earthquake. A claw tap tap tapped delicately against the ground, carving deep gouges and potholes into the fine brickwork of the courtyard.

“I believe I will go to him,” the dragon finally decided, “I’m delivering a gift for him from his aunt, and it’s rather large for humans. If you might tell me how to get to his house, I would greatly appreciate it.”

Antoine, not to be outdone, stepped up beside Freddi and began rattling off directions to Zim’s house from their current location.

Unfortunately, said directions were for vehicles, not giant flying reptiles, and so a discussion had to be had trying to reconcile the differences.

Meanwhile, more and more people, having noticed the ever growing group of teenagers failing to be eaten or incinerated, began approaching town square again. Most of them resumed their activities–as Tuesdays are fairly busy and generally agreed to be best suited for errands–but others, especially parents with small children and Belleview’s official ornithological association stepped closer.

The dragon, even while conversing with the teenagers, visibly preened. And once the modified directions ended with a, “There’s an ugly bright yellow SUV parked in front of it,” the dragon spent a few minutes more letting small children touch his shiny, fiery scales and the ornithologists examine his wings, before gently stepping away and launching himself back into the air.

On Tuesday, a dragon came to Belleview, bearing a gift. While the dragon didn’t come every Tuesday after that, he did land in the town square every time he had a delivery, even though he already knew where Zim lived.

—

R lives two subway stops away from the office, in a three bedroom apartment a block away from a grocery store, with an eternally revolving rotation of flatmates.

R thinks its convenient. The company thinks of it as protecting a very important asset. Also convenient.

This month’s flatmate is an artist with purple hair, a penchant for jumpsuits and krav maga, and a decidedly nocturnal lifestyle. It’s rather nice, R thinks, though she wouldn’t mind if Benny took out the trash more often. It’s only fair, she says to Patrick in between the meetings he schedules and the lunch he brings for her, since most of the trash is debris from Benny’s art projects. In his defense, Benny does so when she reminds him, but only when prompted.

R isn’t all that sure how exactly Patrick and Benny know each other, just that, like much of everything in her life, Patrick is the one to vet and arrange her flatmates, but later that night Benny takes out the trash and does so for the remaining three months he lives with her.

Patrick makes it very clear to all subsequent bodyguards that R is very important to the company and she should never have to ask for anything twice.

—

The first time Zim visits R at work is also the first time R accidentally destroys a corner office with a decorative fichus she thought was plastic until proven otherwise. Of course, then Zim tops it by shorting out the floor’s power and then they spend the next thirty minutes panicking by flooding the bathrooms and setting things on fire so, needless to say, by the time Patrick, Ann, and Bromley finally get there it’s a disaster zone.

R and Zim bravely say absolutely nothing. Zim also slips and knocks some poor employee’s outbox off their desk and onto the sopping wet floor. Said employee just balefully glances down from their dry perch on top of the desk and scoots everything several inches away.

“I see the magic dampeners aren’t doing much,” Patrick says, almost proud, while
Bromley looks in horror at the ground and Ann begins the most disgruntled and delayed evacuation of the employees.

“I didn’t know this was going to happen,” R says, because it’s true but also because, as she’s been coached by Legal so many times, saying sorry means admitting you’re at fault. Which… she totally is in this case, but it wasn’t done on purpose. Normally, she and Zim have better control over their powers.

Then again, normally she and Zim are on opposite sides of the country.

“We can clean this up,” Zim volunteers, but then, glancing around he amends, “we can try to?”

A strangled noise of refusal and frustration crawls itself out of Bromley’s throat.

“I think it’d be better if we didn’t,” R says gently, before Patrick bursts out laughing.

“Alright you two,” Ann says, walking up to their group once she’s seen everyone else on their way off the floor, “time to clear the way so Bromley can do his thing.”

R ushers Zim towards the stairwell at Ann’s behest, not wanting to argue. Zim, however, being new, lingers long enough to ask, “But what about you and Patrick?” then, realizing something, “what exactly is Bromley’s thing?”

Ann chuckles, the sound of it echoing far more ominously in the stairwell than her expression warrants. “Patrick and I can handle ourselves,” she answers, then very definitively closes the door after them.

“But what is Bromley’s thing?” Zim repeats, turning to R with a plaintive expression.

R opens her mouth to answer then, after a pause, shuts it again. “It’s probably best if he explained it to you himself,” she says before leading the way down the stairs.

She can’t give him all the answers.

~

A/N: Written on my phone–my laptop has decided it wants to take a vacation and is no longer working 😦

Ah, looks like part 1 of my 2 pt post didn’t make it through. I don’t think it matters much based on what you wrote back. pt 1 was basically me saying that i don’t see why the lost 4 would want to return to Auradon willingly, before giving 3 ways to force them back in pt 2. Also that unlike with Narnia magic, they would actually age, so coming back to the same moment only 2 plus years older might cause problems. but if they got pulled before the movie, then that might not be a problem.

jacksgreysonLeave a comment

Ah, yes that makes more sense. But I’m glad I was able to answer your questions regardless. I feel like if the Lost kids got to the point of being accepted by Konoha–which still remains a military dictatorship despite their reputation–then they would reciprocate the trust shown to them. They’d be so loyal–to their teams and to each other, if not to Konoha as a whole–that they would feel unfairly ripped away if the Fairy Godmother were to summon them back.

I guess the plot would revolve around how the Lost kids either find their way back to Konoha or fail to and eventually accept living in Auradon. The second half, at least. The first half would be about the Lost kids adjusting to Konoha and their individual character arcs.

2/2 1: The plot device at the museum/in Konoha has a timer and automatically sends them back. 2: Encounter with dimension crossing Sharingan via Akatsuki/Kaguya forces them back. or 3: Forces from Auradon either pull them back arrive via Magic wand to re-imprison them on the Isle, much to the displeasure of Konoha, or arrive in Konoha for the same reason and a similar response. Personaly, even after a 4th shinobi war, I think Konoha would kick Auradons butt.

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(related to this previous brainstorm)

Given that Auradon has spent the past two decades banishing all of their villains to an island and all of their knights/princes are athletes instead of warriors, there’s no question that Konoha would totally own Auradon if it came to that. Heck, even in canon Descendants I’m pretty sure the Lost kids could take down the rest of the school–including the Fairy Godmother–if they really wanted to. Obviously, they’d have to use the advantage of surprise, and this is with the wand out of play (not even with Mal, just not with the Fairy Godmother). And by taking out the school they’d effectively have all of the children of the royal families hostage and thus the rest of the kingdom but…

…

Wait… what were we talking about?

…

Oh, right. The crossover!

Actually, now that I think about it some more, I wonder if the Lost kids shouldn’t be somehow summoned directly from the Isle of the Lost a few years before the events of the Descendants movie. Such that they are the same age as the Konoha twelve and grow up alongside them through to Shippuden. At which point they’d be at the right age for the events of Descendants to occur.

That way its a summoning on both ends–someone in Konoha on one side, then the Fairy Godmother, by request of the king to be, on the other. That way it puts the least suspicion on the Lost kids’ appearance–and the being pulled away from their home(s) twice makes for some additional story drama.

Now, whether or not Konoha is going to try to retrieve them… well. It depends on the specifics of how they disappear. But definitely for sure they will try to make their way back to their “real” home–and given that Carlos would be a weapons AND seals specialist, they would have a decent chance of doing it.

From the Auradon side, depending on what they know, they could view the matter as “saving” them. As in movie canon, the way Ben was “saving” them from the Isle by offering them an opportunity to get better education etc. Or, if somehow Fairy Godmother knew they were being used as child soldiers, then “saving” them from that fate.

Which the Lost kids don’t appreciate because they’re probs all chuunin/jounin level after 3-4 years of training which means they are used to being treated as adults by shinobi standards.

I dunno. There’s definitely lots of interesting possibilities you can play around with here, anon. How do the Lost kids affect Konoha’s timeline–does Sasuke defect when shown examples of kids who actually have worse family than he does? Does Danzo try to muscle his way into their group and get outed to Sandaime early on? Does being half-fairy give Mal some kind of bijuu-esque advantages? I have no idea, but it’s interesting to think about.

I love your descendants fics, especially the Carlos focused ones, and have been enjoying the DoS drabbles. However, reading and re-reading my favorites over and over again has sent me to a world where Carlos ends up getting help for his dog fears from the Inuzuka, resulting in Dude eventually growing up to be a horse sized dog, like Akamaru does in shippuden, and protecting Carlos from all harm. That is all.

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Carlos and the Inuzuka?

…

O_O

…

Oh, anon, you have no idea what kind of brainstorming bunny you have unleashed!

Okay, so, let’s say–as in my Once Then Always brainstorm–the Lost kids are transported to a different world via magical artifacts during the museum heist. After they have some life-changing adventures, they are transported back to Auradon with little to no time passing. (Unfortunately, this is before Carlos meets Dude, but this does not prevent Carlos from adopting Dude later.)

Like with Once Then Always, I would like to have each of the Lost kids have a unique self-discovery journey of their own. Carlos overcoming his fear of dogs (and shitty parenting) with the Inuzuka is pretty straightforward–but what about the others?

But, before that, how does Konoha react to four random teenagers appearing in their village?

Since we do want Carlos to be fostered (or at least not threatened) by the Inuzuka, that means that the Lost kids can’t be seen as infiltrators/enemies/threats. Which means that their appearance has to be either planned by Konoha or, at least, the result of something Konoha did.

Maybe some kind of summoning seal? Or maybe an Uzumaki artifact?

I’m also unsure when in the Naruto timeline I would want this to be–before the Chuunin Exams? After it, but before the Sasuke retrieval arc? Or full on in Shippuden?

I’ll admit I’ve been spoiled by Dreaming of Sunshine and no longer have the patience to put up with Sasuke’s defection melodrama, but I suppose in that case this could be a DoS crossover instead of a canon Naruto crossover… In which case, it’s perfectly plausible that the Lost kids are summoned by Shikako.

Uh, but this crossover would want to focus on the Lost kids… So *insert plot reason for Konoha to trust them* and now the Lost kids are being fostered/trained by Konoha. I like to imagine that–given the terrible living circumstances of the Isle–that the Lost kids are at the very least genin level.

Jay was quick to pick up tourney (which is based off lacrosse which is, in and of itself, based off a ceremonial ritual of symbolic warfare) and, after a few days, so was Carlos. Mal I headcanon to be physically stronger than Carlos, Evie I’m not so sure? I know in the book she was dangerously underweight–then again, all of them are probably suffering from some sort of malnutrition…

Anyway, I wonder if, at first, the Lost kids are split up for training. Probably they’d be treated as one family so they’d get to live together, but while Konoha may tentatively trust the Lost kids ~for reasons~ they wouldn’t be so stupid as to leave a group of unknowns together and unsupervised.

In a different brainstorm for DoS (Team Medic which I made with @kuipernebula) I proposed that an additional genin team would be dispersed amongst the Rookie Nine after the Sound/Sand Invasion that way each team has a medic-nin specifically suited for the team and the genin can begin to get used to the four chuunin team set up instead of the three genin one jounin set up.

The fact that there are four Lost kids as opposed to three genin medic nins is easily fixed by adding Team Gai to the mix. So that means each Lost kid is assigned to a different genin team.

For reasons described above, we would want Carlos to end up with Team Eight–so that he can overcome his fear of dogs via Kiba and Akamaru (and the Inuzuka clan in general). Given that Jay’s subplot in Descendants was about teamwork I would think that Team Ten would be the best analog given that their clans are practically bred for teamwork (the Hyuuga/Aburame/Inuzuka team set up isn’t one that the clans reflect).

Which leaves Team Gai and the pile of drama that is Team Seven–either canon or DoS versions. Given that Mal is the main character of Descendants it makes the most sense for her to be put on Team Drama–also given that her character arc is about her defying “nature” and nurture and choosing good over evil, that would probably resonate very well with Team Seven, especially with Naruto–the optimistic protagonist with a demon sealed inside him versus the conflicted daughter of an evil fairy.

And so Evie is left with Team Gai. Which is actually pretty interesting because Team Gai is the only one without a clan heir, aka a “prince” or “princess”. Can that help Evie overcome her obsession with marrying her very own prince? Maaaaybe…

However, as kuipernebula and I discussed with Team Medic, there has to be some kind of in-story reason as to why the Hokage (either Sandaime or Tsunade) would assign it in this way. But we also figured that it’s pretty easy to argue any given set up. Obviously Konoha will prioritize function over feelings, but we have to figure out what about each Lost kid makes them a good match for each genin team.

Team Ten I actually find easiest to explain because Jay is the physically strongest and most capable of the four Lost kids. Given Team Ten’s set up–that is, the Ino-Shika-Cho and Asuma–if you take Asuma out of the equation (as he would be if all of the genin became chuunin) then the Ino-Shika part of the equation is very low on offensive abilities meaning they’d need another “heavy hitter” to even out the new team of four. Whether that means he acts as protector to the stationary Ino and Shikamaru, or as another bulldozer alongside Chouji depends on plot.

Team Seven, also, is pretty easy–Team Seven have “historically” been the legendary, potential S-class teams. All members have been, in some way or another, ninjutsu buffs minus, maybe, Nohara Rin but for all we know she could very well have been, too. So of Carlos, Evie, and Mal, the one who would most likely be able to keep up with Team Seven would be Mal who has access to her mother’s magic spell book (aka family ninjutsu).

That being said, I’m not too sure what Carlos and Evie’s skills translate best to in the Naruto world. Because Carlos in the books is all about technology which… there isn’t much of in the Naruto world, whereas Evie has her magic mirror and her potion knowledge (love potion and the one that knocked out Chad) which is… ?

But, okay, let’s stretch the definition of technology for Carlos–that could mean either weaponry or seals. Which is a heavy overlap with TenTen–too much overlap, I’d say, but that’s not enough of a reason alone. If Team Eight’s specialty is tracking, then why would Carlos–a weapons/sealing specialist be added? Well, if this is about jumping from genin level to chuunin level, Team Eight wouldn’t just be tracking cats or missing items. They’d be tracking people–possibly enemies. So, for example, if they’re tracking missing nin, they’d have to be prepared for traps of all kind. Hence, weapons/sealing.

And, again, Evie is the most difficult… the potion knowledge could easily be linked to poisons and medicine, while the magic mirror is… I mean, there was that crystal ball that the Sandaime had in the very first episode and which was never brought up again, but I don’t know what I would call that. Not genjutsu… Actually, it’s a bit like the Yamanaka–information gathering and the thinly veiled flower shop poison/medical knowledge–without the whole body-swapping.

How does that benefit Team Gai? Well, as they are before the time skip they taijutsu experts with one weapons/sealing expert. They are a team well designed for either body guarding or taking out non-enhanced human enemies like bandits. With one set of Byakugan and their sensei’s implied talent in genjutsu (which might be passed on to TenTen) they have the makings of a possible espionage team. Add Evie into the mix and they can easily handle infiltration missions, especially if it’s in non-shinobi places.

Now, what is the actual plot going to be? I have no idea… but I actually think this crossover would be more about the Lost kids going back to Auradon after all is said in done, and how their changed attitudes influence the Descendants story. The Lost kids have already had their character arcs happen in Konoha so what is left?

Well, while Konoha may be known as the tree-hugger/soft village–they are still a shinobi village. Despite Naruto’s well-meaning nindo, shinobi are mercenary at heart–they kill and steal and all sorts of nefarious deeds for money or “village security.” So while the Lost kids may not be “evil” anymore, they’re more at “neutral” than “good.” And if the Lost kids have been in the Naruto world through to Shippuden then they’ve been at war and very well might be experiencing PTSD. So now they have to get used to peace–just like what the epilogue of Naruto skipped over.

Tbh, I don’t think I’ll write it–only because it does have a lot of overlap with my Once Then Always and if I had to choose I would prefer to write OTA–but it was fun to think about. So thanks, anon! I know this wasn’t a prompt, but this was great 🙂

(continued here)

Minor Miracles,2/? (2016-02-26)

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Baela Blackfyre

(even half a dragon is worth more than one hundred stags)

—

The Mad King gets impatient and reckless and within the year Baela is born: finally a girl child to keep the bloodline pure. Except for how it won’t. And not just because Rhaegar is slated to marry Elia Martell.

Baela is born to a woman with pale hair and violet eyes, a whore chosen specifically for her Valyrian looks–she is killed not too long after she gives birth, and Baela is whisked away to the Red Keep by order of the King Aerys.

However, while Queen Rhaella had been submissive in most matter–there is one which she will not falter.

Baela is a Blackfyre, not a Targaryen, the revival of a name better off dead.

—

Baela is bastard, not a princess, but she is noble born and dragon blood at that, so she is treated relatively well. She is only two years younger than Viserys, and expected to be his playmate–whether or not she will be his sister-wife depends on their father’s moods.

Regardless, even as children, he makes sure she knows her heritage, tainted and low as it is. She will never be a dragon, but Blackfyre was the name of House Targaryen’s legendary weapon.

She’ll never be family, but at least she’ll be useful.

—

Baela is brought along with Rhaella, Viserys, and newly born Daenerys mostly because no one thinks to tell her no. She’s as good as dead if she stays behind and even Rhaella is not so cruel as to leave a child to her death.

Life is hard across the sea–Rhaella and Viserys adapt poorly. Baela? Not so much. She has always been an in between child, not quite royalty, not quite lowborn–and being a noble refugee is not so different.

Daenerys does not have to adapt because it is all she ever knows.

—

Magister Illyrio is more like her father than Viserys will ever be. Probably because he has so much power where Viserys does not.

But Baela mislikes him just as much, and for good reason–he keeps trying to get her to marry him. Frankly, he could demand it–the Beggar King is certainly in no place to refuse, especially after all that he’s done–but if Illyrio’s gamble is to pay off, he has to at least continue treating Viserys like he’s king.

As it is, Viserys knows he only has a few political coins to spend, and Baela as a bride is one of them. He can’t use it on an ally already won.

He can use it on an ally not yet bought.

—

Khal Drogo does not want Baela–or perhaps he doesn’t care. Ilyrio is the one negotiating–he wants Daenerys.

And what the man with an army forty thousand strong wants? He gets.

—

“I’m scared, Baela,” Daeny says, gripping tightly to her half-sister’s hand. Baela does not pull away or flinch, but she does not hold on in return, either.

Baela can’t lie. Can’t say there’s nothing to be scared of, can’t say that she’d take Daeny’s place if she could. She just can’t.

Baela has always known her role in the world, and not just as a Blackfyre.

Daeny is given three dragon eggs as a wedding present. They’d never hatch if they were Baela’s.

—

Some things she tries to change. Some things she doesn’t.

Daeny is pregnant, Viserys is foolish, and Baela looks away when molten gold is poured over his head.

—

Sometimes, even when she tries to change things, they stay the same.

“Don’t trust her,” Baela warns, seeing a future of betrayal and loss behind her eyelids. But Daeny has Mirri Maz Duur brought to her, has the Lhazareen brought under her protection, asks for a cure that will poison instead.

“Don’t ask her,” Baela says, when Khal Drogo falls from his horse, infected and unwell. Already his screamers begin to disperse, Daeny’s army blowing in the breeze, but not all hope is lost.

“Don’t do this!” Baela pleads, because maybe she can save Rhaego’s life. If she can change this one thing, she’ll know she’s here for a reason. But Daeny disregards her:

What are the words of a Blackfyre bastard to a Targaryen khaleesi and queen?

—

There is a pyre–an execution, a funeral, a baptism.

There is grief in Daeny’s eyes, sorrow and regret but still determination. She does not apologize to Baela because that is not their way, but she does reach a hand out when the fire grows large and scorches the air.

“Join me,” she says, because Daeny is khaleesi and queen and widow but some part of her will also be the little girl that walked without fear because her sister was with her, “We are blood of the dragon. Fire cannot hurt us.”

Baela blinks–torn between fear and longing, sees possibilities flitting through her mind–but she’s already been shown that there is only one true path.

“So was Viserys,” Baela says instead, “And he was more dragon than I.”

Daeny is disappointed in her, but that is no longer something new; she does not falter.

—

Baela is the first to pledge fealty to Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen, Mother of Dragons.

There will be no Blackfyre Rebellion.

Minor Miracles, 1/? (2016-02-25)

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Young Nan

(little things can have magic of their own. so can little people)

—

Hodor finds her one day, a naked thing wandering the woods. They are opposites–he, so tall and large and pale, she, so small and slight and brown. Harmless and helpless, and so Lord Stark allows her into Winterfell.

For the first few weeks she does not make a sound, following after Hodor like a living, breathing shadow. Master Luwen is not even sure she can speak, though she can hear well enough–turning her head to look when people speak, startling at sudden, loud noises–but maybe it is merely a lack of knowledge, not a lack of ability. They leave her with Old Nan, who these days does nothing but talk and tell stories, in hopes that the girl with absorb words of her own.

She does not. But, as months pass, Winterfell becomes accustomed to her. She becomes known as Young Nan.

—

Winterfell is a machine, constantly moving with every person playing a part to ensure survival–The North is cold and harsh, one cannot be lazy here. Young Nan, too, is given chores once she is deemed old enough and capable enough.

Like herself, it starts small, nothing too difficult helping the laundresses in their duties. Laundering is hard work, strong work, and many of the bedclothes when wet are heavier than she is, but she can still fetch and carry and fold. In time, they add more responsibilities, including darning, until someone remarks on how much thread is missing.

Young Nan is skilled with a needle; she is in trouble until, suddenly, she is not. With discarded scraps of cloth and the extra thread she had worked on a project of her own–a quilt as complex and beautiful as any of the tapestries hanging on the walls.

A gift, she did not say, but gestured well enough, for Lady Stark’s soon to be born child. Beneath the paws of a black wolf in a forest are the letters for the name Rickon, embroidered carefully along the edge. Or perhaps it is just a trick of the light–the pattern of leaves forming a shape. After all, Young Nan doesn’t speak, surely she can’t read.

Three weeks later, Lady Stark gives birth to a boy. A boy that they name Rickon.

Young Nan is moved from the charge of the laundress to the seamstress.

—

No one knows how old Young Nan is, how old she might be. As the years pass, she remains the same, and even the less superstitious wonder–could she be one of the forest children from Old Nan’s stories.

It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t get into trouble, continues to make beautiful works of art out of cloth and thread, and still says nothing.

But that doesn’t prevent her from communicating. Or at least trying to.

For Bran, she makes a doublet and cape–grey and white with small details of blue and red–simple enough. But it grows as he does, never fades or wears down, and on the under side of the cape is set of wings; so long as he wears it, he will never fall.

For Arya, she makes a cloak with a fur-lined hood. From far away, the pattern may look like flowers, albeit in grey and black, but up close it is swords–sabers with thin blades and ornate handles. Arya is already fond of it, even without knowing that it protects her from more than just the cold.

But not all of the Starks look at her gifts as such.

Young Nan is working on the second of a series of handkerchiefs for Sansa, each with a barely visible cream colored wolf in the corner, when Jeyne Poole drops the tattered remains of the first in front of her, sneering. Sansa’s expression is not quite as harsh, but there is no reprimand on her lips. Young Nan does not finish.

By now, everyone is expecting her to present something to Robb and it’s true that she is working on something–but it’s difficult. Wisdom in warfare is easy to depict, not that the future Young Wolf needs any help from her for that. But wisdom in peace, in politics? How could she possibly articulate that in cloth and thread?

—

Young Nan enjoys her inordinately high position mostly because of Lady Stark. Young Nan is not ungrateful.

She will make whatever the lady commissions, no mistake there, but she never makes Lady Stark something out of her own volition. Not like she does for the lady’s children.

But that is well enough–she never makes anything for Jon Snow either, well aware of Lady Stark’s dislike of the bastard son.

But she does make something for Lord Stark–and if he happens to pass it down, then that is the matter between highborn people.

The day she gives it to him is the same she disappears–the same day he finds a litter of direwolf pups and gives them to his children.

The gift is small and, perhaps, not even a gift–a warning, a message. A tiny tapestry, smaller than a shield, showing a split scene. On one side, a forest at night, and a white wolf howling to the moon. On the other side, a desert in the day–the sun blotted out by something serpentine and large. And bisecting the sky? A tower.

—

She’s done what she could, tried her best. Gave them what they need to improve their fates.

The rest is up to them.

~

A/N: Here’s a series of A Song of Ice and Fire SI!OCs that nobody asked for. Next installment will be about someone else; so goodbye, Young Nan.