Is that MORGAN HOLMSTROM? No, that’s just DAKOTA DUMONT. They were born on 28/04/2002 and are a RIVER ELF/RIVER FAIRY HYBRID living in Northknot Town. They work as an ELEMENTARY SCHOOL TEACHER. Some say they’re COMPASSIONATE and STEADFAST, but I’ve heard others say they’re STUBBORN and SELF-SACRIFICING. When you think of HER, don’t you think of SUNLIT RIVERBANKS ON A BREEZY DAY, HANDWRITTEN NOTES IN LUNCHBOXES & WILDFLOWERS GROWING THROUGH CRACKED SIDEWALKS?
Name: Dakota Zinnia Dumont Pronunciation: duh-KOH-tuh ZIN-ee-uh doo-MONT Nickname(s): Kota, Miss D, River Birthday: April 28th, 2002 Age: 24 Zodiac Sign: Taurus Sun, Scorpio Moon, Pisces Rising Gender: Cis-female Pronouns: She/Her Species: River Elf/River Fairy Hybrid Orientation: Straight, Demiromantic Occupation: Elementary School Teacher Faceclaim: Morgan Holmstrom
HEADCANONS
Dakota keeps a stash of granola bars, fruit snacks, and emergency stickers in her bag at all times
Her classroom smells faintly like lavender and clean paper
She cries at kids’ drawings… like actually tears up over a crooked heart and stick figures
Dakota cannot stand when people litter, especially near water. will absolutely call you out
She hums without realizing it when she’s focused
She learned how to braid hair because her students kept asking her to fix theirs
Her anger is quiet at first… then very precise. she doesn’t yell, she corrects
Dakota has a habit of saying “hey, we’re not doing that” in the same tone to both kids and grown adults
She keeps every thank-you note she’s ever gotten in a box under her bed
She swims like it’s second nature, like the river still recognizes her
Dakota will absolutely show up at 2am if someone calls her… but is learning to hesitate before saying yes
She drinks tea more than coffee, but keeps coffee around for survival days
Her love language is acts of service to a fault
She hates asking for help. like physically struggles with it
Dakota has a soft spot for people who are a little rough around the edges (hi lux)
Kids who are labeled “difficult” tend to attach to her the fastest
She journals, but only when she’s overwhelmed. the entries are messy and honest
Dakota still goes to the river when she needs to think. sits there, shoes off, letting the water touch her feet
Her laugh is bright but not loud. the kind that makes other people smile without knowing why
She forgives easily… but when she finally doesn’t, that’s when it’s really over
APPEARANCE
Dakota's appearance carries that same quiet magnetism, like sunlight caught on moving water. There’s a softness to her features that reads as approachable, but it’s balanced by a gaze that feels grounded, observant, like she’s always taking in more than she lets on. Her beauty isn’t loud, it lingers. Warm-toned skin that seems to glow in natural light, dark hair that falls with an easy, lived-in grace, and eyes that feel both kind and knowing at once. She dresses simply, comfortably, but there’s always something thoughtful in it, like she expects to move, to kneel beside a child’s desk, to step into the river if she needs to. Nothing about her feels accidental
PERSONALITY
Dakota moves through the world like steady water, soft at first glance but impossible to ignore once you feel the current. She is deeply nurturing, the kind of person who remembers the small things and shows up without being asked, but there’s steel threaded through all that warmth. She doesn’t bend just to keep the peace. She chooses her kindness, and she chooses her boundaries just as carefully. Dakota believes in people almost stubbornly, even when they make it difficult, even when it costs her. The only catch is she gives like it’s instinct, like breathing, and sometimes forgets she’s allowed to be held too
AESTHETIC
sunlight catching on slow-moving river water - damp hems of dresses from wading too far in - golden hour sunshine through classroom windows - handwritten reminders in careful ink - chipped mugs filled with tea gone cold - the soft scratch of pencils on paper - wildflowers tucked behind ears - the hush of a town that knows your name - rain tapping gently against glass - worn sneakers by the door - laughter echoing down school hallways - a stack of children’s drawings held together with a rubber band - the quiet ache of almosts - wind moving through tall grass like a secret
CONNECTIONS
The One Who Stepped Up Dakota’s older brother, three years ahead and quietly protective. When their dad got hurt, Lucky just… filled the gaps. Rides, check-ins, always there without making it a big thing. He’s more grounded than Dakota, sees risks where she sees potential, and isn’t afraid to call her out when she’s giving too much. Their bond is solid, teasing, and loyal to the core… even if they butt heads sometimes
The Friend Who Worries They love Dakota, but they see how much she gives and how little she keeps for herself. They’re constantly trying to get her to set boundaries, rest, choose herself for once
The One Who Sees Through Her Her best friend. They clock immediately that Dakota’s “I’m fine” is not always true. They don’t let her hide behind being the dependable one
The Almost Mistake A brief fling or emotional almost-relationship after Lux. It didn’t fully happen… but it complicated things. Maybe they still linger in that “what was that?” space
BIOGRAPHY
tw: serious injury, chronic illness, toxic relationship, pregnancy scare
Dakota was born and raised in Northknot Town to Mariana, a pediatric nurse, and Théo Dumont, an environmental surveyor who spent long stretches working along river system, and their three year old son, Lucky. Her family lived near the river on the quieter edge of town. Dakota grew up basically half feral in the best way. Riverbanks, skipping rocks, scraped knees, dragonflies landing on her fingers like she was some Disney princess with muddy sneakers. Her childhood looked like barefoot summers, river water in her hair, community potlucks, and her mom knowing half the town from the clinic. She was the kid teachers adored. The one who helped pass out papers without being asked. The one who shared snacks. But life wasn’t completely gentle. When Dakota was nine, her dad was involved in a river survey accident. A flash flood pinned the small work boat against a fallen tree. He survived, but barely. Months of hospital stays. Chronic pain after. It changed the family rhythm. Her mom started working extra shifts at the hospital because her dad had lasting injuries that meant less fieldwork. Lucky stepped up a lot after that. Not in a dramatic “we’re raising ourselves” way, just that quiet older sibling energy. He drove her places once he got his license. Showed up to her school stuff. Made sure she didn’t feel the weight their parents were carrying. Dakota internalized something from that period: reliability is love.
“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”
Northknot High Dakota was basically the town’s golden girl. High school Dakota was peak girl-next-door energy. She was on honor roll every year, volunteered tutoring younger kids, was on student council, and ran a small river clean-up club. She was every teacher’s favorite but not in an annoying way. She was well liked because she never acted superior about it. She just helped people. But she also had that firm boundary energy even then. If someone bullied a kid or talked reckless to teacher, Dakota would absolutely call them out. That “sweet but don’t push it” energy. But there were cracks beneath the sunshine. She was the responsible one in every group. The friend who drove people home. The one who broke up arguments. The one who listened to everyone’s problems at 2am. People leaned on her a lot. Sometimes too much. Her biggest heartbreak in high school wasn’t romantic. It was watching her dad struggle with chronic pain and eventually take a less active job. The man who once danced in rivers now walked carefully along them. That planted something in Dakota’s brain: protect joy while you can. Senior year she decided she wanted to teach elementary school. Kids deserved someone steady.
“Too much sanity may be madness.”
Dakota attended Santa Clara University in California. She thrived at first. Dorm life. Coffee shops. Study groups. She was the girl everyone trusted with spare keys and emotional breakdowns. Then she met Lux Dupuis. Lux walked into her life like a summer thunderstorm in designer shoes. He was the opposite of her world. Wealthy. Reckless. Magnetic. The kind of guy who laughed loud and lived louder. Frat parties, rooftop views, midnight drives. They meet at a party Dakota almost didn’t attend because she had a practicum early the next morning. Lux clocks her immediately because she’s not impressed by any of it. She clocks him because he’s a walking red flag wrapped in charisma. Dakota told herself it was just fun. And for a while, it was. Lux loves that Dakota grounds him. Dakota secretly loves that Lux made her feel spontaneous instead of responsible all the time. But the imbalance eventually starts hurting them both. Chaos has gravity. Their relationship slowly turned volatile.
“He was my North, my South, my East and West…”
Arguments that burned hot. Lux disappearing for nights. Dakota forgiving faster than she should because she saw the good in him. There was one moment that shook everything. A pregnancy scare during junior year. For two weeks Dakota lived in quiet panic. Not because she didn’t love kids. She did. But she suddenly realized how unstable their world together actually was. It shakes Dakota hard and Lux didn’t react too well. It forces her to think about the future in a way Lux isn’t ready for. It planted the first real fracture. They didn’t break up then. But something changed. Senior year they tried to stabilize things. Lux toned down the frat chaos. Dakota tried to stop mothering him. They loved each other, but they spoke completely different emotional languages. Right after graduation the final blow happened. Something small on the surface, probably a fight about priorities, but really it was years of pressure cracking. They broke up. Not dramatically. Not explosively. Just painfully. The kind where both people still care but know they’re hurting each other.
“It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”
Dakota moved back to Northknot to get back to her roots and took a job as a school teacher at Northknot Elementary. Which means half the town watched her grow up and now trusts her with their kids. And honestly? She became exactly who people thought she was. Kids adore her. Parents trust her. She runs classroom reading circles like tiny magical kingdoms. She’s the teacher who keeps snacks in her desk, remembers every kid’s birthday, will call a parent out if their child is being neglected, but also brings soup when someone is sick. She volunteers constantly. Food drives. River cleanups. School events. America’s sweetheart energy. But there’s still that unresolved Lux-shaped shadow in the corner of the room. They haven’t fully closed that chapter. Too many feelings left unspoken. Too many what-ifs floating around like driftwood. Dakota tells herself she’s moved on. Most days she believes it. Some nights though, when the river is loud and the town is quiet, she wonders if loving someone messy means you never completely wash them out of your bloodstream. Lux eventually moved back to town too. Which means the universe basically said: “you two are not done dealing with this.” Unresolved tension? Absolutely.
