Officially Obsessed With The Idea Of Roguefort Being Walnut’s Adopted Parent But As Far As Walnut Knows,

officially obsessed with the idea of roguefort being walnut’s adopted parent but as far as walnut knows, THIS is her parent

roguefort’s very quiet and well-mannered, and they don’t like crowds. walnut’s not really sure what they do for a living. they won’t talk about it. but it’s not a thing she wonders or worries very much about, anyway. roguefort is a very loving parent. always doting on walnut and putting her comfort and happiness above all else. they would absolutely FLIP if they ever found out that she sneaks out at night to track down and apprehend dangerous criminals

walnut conceals her detective work very well. recently, she’s been trying to crack the case of the mysterious “Phantom Bleu.” they’re a master thief and always seem to be just one step ahead of everyone else. walnut has come so close to catching them so many times…only for them to slip right out of her grasp again. 

they operate only at night, so walnut has never gotten a clear view of their face. so she never realizes that she’s chasing down her parent. roguefort doesn’t recognize walnut, either. they both have a lot going on, okay.

walnut loves her parent a lot. but she hates phantom bleu and wants nothing more than to see them finally behind bars. roguefort has no animosity towards the tiny detective child, but she HAS made their life a lot more difficult as of late. rather annoying, really. 

they both have their moments, of course. walnut sees roguefort polishing a golden cane that looks strangely familiar - have they always had that? roguefort’s used to walnut keeping her hair down when she’s home, so when she pulls it up into a side ponytail, they do a double-take; where have they seen that before? but neither of them really manage to put two and two together. always tiptoeing around the full truth.

maybe roguefort realizes it first. one night, on a rooftop, the moonlight illuminates walnut’s face, and roguefort freezes. they can’t breathe. standing on a ledge, stricken, as their own daughter looks up at them, eyes blazing with hatred. “walnut?” they whisper, not of their own conscious volition, before clapping a hand over their mouth.

the wind’s howling. walnut can’t hear them well. “what? what’d you say?” she blinks, and the thief has already vanished. another failure. she stomps her foot and shrieks in frustration.

yeah. that’d leave roguefort in a bind. i mean, how do you cope with the knowledge that your beloved daughter hates you?

not very well, i’d imagine.