#nemo and i forget his name

[ellies-enrichment]

she touched the boot :(

[reduxulousoctopus]

Logan: “Whatever Chuck did in there, it worked. I don’t know how he faced that thing. He never loses his cool.” Rogue: “Forget it, hon. In our business, we all get shook up every now and again.” Logan: “I don’t.” — X-Men: The Animated Series, season four, "Proteus"

~4500 words, immediately Post-Episode, Morpherine established relationship, The Most Traumatized Man in the World dealing with the fact that he is now Slightly More Traumatized

If you missed my last fic, Morph has in-universe (he/him) and out-of-universe (they/them) pronouns because I think that's funny.

--

After watching waves crash against the island’s rocky shore for a moment, Logan stuffs his hands into his pockets and starts walking in the direction of the tarmac where they left the Blackbird. He’s ready to go the fuck back to Westchester, find his favorite seat at the bar, and drink until he forgets he even exists. Plenty of ye olde pubs to be found on the mainland, of course, but he’s had more than enough of bonnie Scotland for one day.

Too bad some force out there—be it God, the Devil, or the whims of an uncaring universe—seems dead set against ever letting Logan have what he wants.

“I think the professor’s gonna want to stay a while longer,” Rogue pipes up behind him. “Y’know, to make sure Kevin’s really okay, and to make sure Dr. MacTaggert’s doin’ alright, too. We probably got at least an hour to kill before it’s time to head home.”

Holding back an enraged scream, Logan instead grunts out through gritted teeth, “Uh-huh.”

“Why don’t you pay Morph a visit?” Rogue suggests with a smile. “That might make you feel better. Even if you don’t wanna talk to him about what happened, he always puts you in a good mood.”

Despite her words, Logan’s mood somehow turns even more sour at the thought of seeing Morph again. He crosses his arms and grumbles under his breath, “Morph’s already got more than enough to deal with—he doesn’t need me dumpin’ a load of my garbage on top of everything else.”

Rogue rolls her eyes. “For some reason, Morph actually seems to like your garbage. I already told him you’d come see him before we left. You gonna make a liar outta me, or do I have to throw your sorry butt in through his window?”

How in the hell did Logan end up surrounded by so many females who think they can boss him around? Jean, Storm—even Jubilee’s gotten real bold about demanding rides to the mall.

They’re completely right, of course, but they don’t always have to rub his nose in it.

“I can walk.” Logan gives her a mocking bow. “By your leave, ma’am.”

“Go on, now, get,” Rogue says, nodding her head towards the research center’s entrance. “Surly ol’ polecat. Don’t know how Morph puts up with you.”

Thing is, Logan thinks as he grudgingly makes his way back inside the building, he isn’t so sure Morph wants to put up with him anymore. Three times now, he’s had to watch Morph walk away and not look back, even as Logan called his name.

Kinda hard for a fella not to start taking that personally.

Upon entering the laboratory where the others have gathered, Logan immediately locates the cause of his bad day—across the room, playing some kind of hologram puzzle game with Cassidy, too busy to notice him—before very deliberately looking away and approaching Dr. MacTaggert instead. “Hey, Doc. I’m gonna head upstairs. Unless now’s a bad time…?”

She’s understandably reluctant to tear her eyes away from her son. Even when she manages to meet Logan’s gaze, it takes her a second to actually register what he said.

“Oh! Of course you’ll be wanting to see Morph.” She checks her watch. “He should be nearly done with his morning round of mnemotransience therapy. I’ll call the supervising nurse to let her know you’re on your way.”

Logan frowns, wondering what the fuck ‘nemo-transients’ are, but nods politely when she tells him which room Morph’s in. Not that he needs directions—as usual, Logan opts to trust his nose, letting Morph’s familiar scent lead him through the building, instead. But when he arrives outside the closed door at the end of the trail, something makes him hesitate.

He reaches for the knob. Pauses.

Reaches again, before pivoting on his heel and walking back the way he came.

Stops. Runs his hand through his hair. Returns to the door.

Hesitates again. Growls in frustration.

“Just leave him alone, old man,” Logan mutters to himself. “He’s here to heal.”

Not listen to a whining, yellow-bellied coward like me.

With that bitter self-recrimination, Logan turns away from the door again—only to nearly jump out of his skin when he hears it suddenly open behind him.

“Are you that ‘X-Man’ come to visit Morph?” asks the middle-aged woman with frizzy grey hair and coke-bottle glasses. “Sorry love, Moira called ahead but I only just remembered the door was locked. Must not have heard your knockin’ over my headphones, either. Come on in, love, he’s almost done with his treatment, shouldn't be more than a minute or so.”

Now there’s no chance he can sneak away without word getting back to Morph. Reluctantly, Logan follows the nurse into the room. As soon as he’s through the threshold and he hears the door automatically lock itself behind him, his breath catches and a bolt of sick terror shoots through him, followed quickly by rage.

He hates hospitals, and he really hates laboratories; this room is some hellish combination of both. Sterile metal walls, acrid chemical smells, computers and machinery blinking and blooping with obscure purpose in stalagmite-like clusters rising from the floor. Seeing Morph unconscious on a slab, hooked up to those machines—it makes him want to break things. His pulse is a war-drum in his ears.

This can’t actually be helping Morph get better. They’re hurting him, experimenting on him maybe. Ripping him apart to learn how his shapeshifting powers work. Maybe that’s how MacTaggert figured out how to make her son look normal, because that’s all humans ever want from mutants: to use them, or make them normal.

His claws itch at the underside of his skin. He’s gotta get Morph out of here, run away as far and fast as they can because if they can’t trust MacTaggert then they can’t trust Xavier then they can’t trust the X-Men—

Logan closes his eyes. His thoughts are spiraling in on themselves like a dog chasing its tail; he grabs that dog by the chain and forces it to heel. Maybe he can’t trust MacTaggert—the fact she managed to hide her mutant son from Xavier all these years proves she’s good at keeping secrets, who knows what other skeletons may be hanging in that woman’s closet?—but he damn well knows by now that he can trust Xavier and the X-Men. There’s no point in speculating to the contrary. May as well start doubting that the sun will rise or the tides will turn; may as well send himself to the funny-farm, too, while he’s at it.

“You can sit in that chair while you wait, love,” the nurse says suddenly. Logan’s body jerks in surprise as his eyes snap open. She doesn’t seem to notice, though, already taking her own seat behind a desk not far from the door and picking up a well-worn paperback romance novel. “That one there, by the window.”

“Thanks,” Logan grunts.

The nurse puts on her headphones and presses the play button on her portable tape-player. Logan blinks as his acute hearing picks up shredding guitars, crashing drums, and guttural, growling vocals.

He would not have guessed from looking that she was a metal fan.

Although he moves towards the window the nurse mentioned, Logan doesn’t sit down in the squashy-looking armchair. Instead, he slides the window open and just stands there a while, breathing deeply. No ocean-view this side, but he can smell the brine and feel the cold wind against his face. He can hear crashing waves.

He can still smell Morph, too, which is always a balm—even if he can’t bear to look at him while he’s hooked up to those machines. He can hear his heartbeat and his calm, soft breaths.

Eventually, the room stops feeling quite so much like a trap snapping shut around him.

Morph trusts Dr. MacTaggert. Trusts this place, even if it makes Logan’s skin crawl. He clearly feels safe enough to recover here. Safer than he felt at the mansion, apparently.

Safer than he felt under Logan’s protection.

Some ‘protection.’ Not even one whole day back and I let him go up against Sentinels again.

Yet even when confronted by his worst fear, Morph ran in literally guns-blazing and faced an entire squad of Sentinels almost single-handed to save the team. A true X-Man, through and through.

And what does that make me? Just the guy that turns tail and runs while his friends are in danger, all because he let himself get spooked by a snot-nosed teenager with daddy-issues.

Logan hasn’t forgiven Morph for leaving again—hell, he might even hate him a little—but he’s still so proud of him. That pride only deepens his own shame.

Bamboo and steel, like Master Oku used to say. Guys like Morph, like Xavier and Beast and Nightcrawler, too: they’re bamboo. Strong enough to bend, able to grow back when cut down. For all that Logan’s bones are plated in adamantium, as often as he’s tried to change his nature, he knows he’s made of steel. Tough. Unyielding. Inflexible. Beaten into the proper shape, ground down to a razor’s edge. And if even one crack appears—he breaks.

Even reforged, a broken blade will always be weaker than it once was.

Something beeps on the console by Morph’s bed. Eerily, he seems to instantly snap from asleep to fully alert, like he isn’t so much waking up as activating. His eyes open and he takes a single, sharp breath, which he holds for a moment before releasing it in a sigh.

Logan crosses his arms and leans back against the window-sill, content to watch that long, lean body stretch and those pretty brown eyes flutter.

When Morph eventually sees him standing there, to Logan’s relief, he smiles. That’s gotta count for something. “Hiya, Logan…”

“Hey, kid,” he says softly.

I miss you.

I hate you.

Something terrible happened.

Come home.

I don’t know how to be afraid. I don’t know how to bend.

I don’t deserve you.

“Nice helmet,” Logan says. “You look ridiculous.”

Morph laughs as he sits up and starts to remove the strange device strapped to his head. “You think this helmet looks ridiculous, you should have seen my first and only attempt to design my own costume. There’s a reason why I opted to go with the generic uniform, instead.”

“Well, now I’ve gotta see it. You can’t say that and not show me.”

“And lose what little respect for me you have left? No thanks.” After setting the odd helmet down on the side-table, Morph taps it with his finger. “This is a new thing we’re trying out. Moira says it might help make my nightmares and flashbacks less intense.”

Logan nods like he knows anything about anything. “Nemo-transients therapy, right.”

Morph laughs again. “Right.”

“What’s it do?”

“No idea. Moira tried to explain the science but there were a few too many five-dollar words,” Morph admits. “Basically, it’s meant to make some of my bad memories fade away a little over time, the way the memories of other people do.”

“That perfect recall of yours givin’ you trouble?” Logan guesses with a regretful sigh. It’s a necessary side-effect of Morph’s powers. He can just glance at someone and remember every single detail of their appearance; listen to a brief recording of a voice and replicate it flawlessly; watch anyone perform a physical skill, from a martial arts maneuver to a complicated dance-step, and immediately add it to his own repertoire.

He could probably tell you how many rivets were used to construct the Sentinels that killed him. Or remember the exact moment—month, day, hour, minute, and second—when he realized that no one was coming to rescue him from Mister Sinister; that the X-Men, his friends, the people he trusted most in the world, really had left him for dead.

“On the bright side, I never had to study back when I was in school. You win some, you lose some.”

“Morph…” Logan uncrosses his arms and takes a step towards the bed, but stops himself from getting any closer. Although the nurse is thoroughly distracted by her kissing book and her metal music, she could glance up at any moment. Besides, there’s a security camera looming in the corner of the ceiling, pointed directly at them.

As much as Logan might want Morph to come home, he won’t do it by making this place unsafe for him, should someone at the research center react poorly to seeing two men be a little too affectionate with each other. His hands fall uselessly to his sides.

“I can’t say I like the idea of you lettin’ people tamper with your memories,” Logan admits after a moment.

“It doesn’t erase anything. Just sorta gives me a little breathing room, so the other therapies actually have a chance to stick. That’s all,” Morph assures him. When Logan still looks unconvinced, he adds, “The professor helped design it, if that makes you feel any better.”

It does, actually. Logan can’t understand any of this modern, high-tech psychology mumbo-jumbo. Back in his day, when a fella got a case of shell-shock, the brass would just put a gun in his hands and shove him back in the fight. If Xavier and Morph both agree that this is the best way to help Morph get better, who is Logan to question it?

“I don’t know how much longer we’ve got before it’s time to catch my ride back to Westchester,” Logan says.

“Oh.” Morph shoots him a knowing smile and a wink. “I get you.”

Well. That wasn’t what Logan was getting at, but he definitely isn’t going to say no…

Morph yawns and stretches again. This time, there’s nothing innocent in the arch of that spine or the flex of those lean muscles. “Goodness, these sessions sure take it out of me.”

“How ‘bout I walk you to your room,” Logan offers.

“Thanks, Logan,” Morph says with a shameless grin. “You’re a good pal, y’know that?”

As they walk towards the exit, Morph pauses to drum his fingertips across the nurse’s desk. She jumps and removes her headphones with a slightly guilty-looking smile. “All done, then, love? How was the session?”

“Good. How are Fae and Tavish?” Morph asks. After a moment of confusion, Logan realizes those must be the names of the woman with the heaving bosom and the oiled-up, tartan-clad highlander and on the cover of the nurse’s romance novel. “Have they sorted out that little misunderstanding at the clanmeet yet?”

“Aye, things are finally heating up again,” the nurse replies with a grin. “So if you wouldn’t mind maybe holding off telling Moira you’re done with your session, that’d be grand.”

Morph literally zips his lips shut. After Logan and the nurse have a good laugh, he unzips to say, “Don’t work too hard, Doreen.”

“You know I’m in no danger of that, love!” she calls after him as they leave the room.

Although the two of them don’t speak as Morph leads Logan through the halls of the research center, their eyes keep meeting as anticipation builds. It’s been too long—even longer, if you don’t count that cramped, awkward quickie in the mini-jet en route between Morph’s welcome home party and the trashed polymer factory.

When they arrive at Morph’s guest room, Logan doesn’t have long to re-familiarize himself with the scenery. The door is barely shut and locked behind him before Morph slams him up against it with enough force to rattle the hinges. Logan growls appreciatively around the tongue in his mouth and slides his hands down Morph’s back to grab his ass.

There’s surely no better cure for what ails him.

–

Glaring up at the ceiling several minutes later, Logan thinks he’s going to kill someone. Possibly himself.

“It… it’s fine, Logan. Really.”

“Shut up,” Logan snaps. He flops back against the scratchy hospital sheets covering Morph’s bed and hides his eyes in the crook of his arm.

“Everybody has trouble, uh, performing sometimes,” Morph insists. “Especially older—er, I mean—”

“Stop. Talking.”

Morph sighs and turns away, looking frustrated, worried, and worst of all, guilty. That last one breaks Logan’s heart a little. This sure as hell isn’t Morph’s fault. He doesn’t deserve Logan’s anger.

Too bad anger is just about all he ever has to offer.

“I should go,” Logan says, wishing he’d stuck to his guns and stayed away instead of letting Rogue bully him. He’s no good for Morph like this.

Not enough of a man to stand and fight. Not enough of a man to fuck. What good am I for anyone?

Logan stops in the middle of looking for his clothes to shut his eyes, clench his trembling fists, and wait for the wave of rage to pass over him before resuming his search.

“Oh… okay,” Morph says. Logan can’t bear to look at him. He has his jeans buttoned and is in the middle of shrugging on his flannel shirt when Morph asks, “How’d the mission go, by the way?”

A pure, wimpering-animal dread creeps into his chest. Morph keeps talking—Logan hears Rogue’s name, and the phrase ‘made of glass’—but nothing else sinks in. His stomach turns. Sweat beads on his brow. Although he can feel air rushing in and out of his lungs, he can’t breathe.

“Why do you care?” Logan snaps. He can barely hear himself over the blood rushing in his ears. “Thought you turned your back on that life.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Morph demands. “Of course I care—you’re still my friends, I’m still an X-Man! Do you think I wanted to leave?”

“I… I don’t know why I said that,” Logan lies. His vision blurs, but he can still see his own body being ripped apart, melted down into slag. He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes as hard as he can. They have to be playing tricks on him. He’d be able to smell that monster coming.

Right?

“Besides, I didn’t turn my back on you! You turned your back on me, left me to—” There’s a soft thud behind him as Morph punches the mattress. “No… no, that’s not true. Especially not about you. You did more than anybody to… But don’t you see? That’s why I had to leave! I’m no good for the team like this. I thought you understood that.”

Logan nods, although gun-to-his-head, he couldn’t say what he’s agreeing to. He stands up and staggers a few steps away from the bed on legs that feel like jelly. He needs… he needs… to button his shirt. Find his boots.

Grab your gun and head back out there, soldier. The war ain’t over just because you’re scared.

“Logan…?”

“What?!” Why can’t he find his fucking boots? Why can’t he see anything besides his own body being ripped apart, melted down into slag.

“Why are your claws out?”

Logan blinks. Looks down at his hands.

His claws hiss back at him like angry snakes.

He retracts them, feels them squirm all the way back up into his arms, alien and repulsive in a way they haven’t felt since they were brand-new.

He blinks again, and suddenly Morph is standing in front of him, between Logan and the door. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Logan should be the one closest to the door. When that monster comes in here—

“I think you’re having a panic attack,” Morph says. He offers a smile completely devoid of amusement or joy. “And I’m heading that way, too, so lets see if all these boring counseling sessions I’ve had to sit through are worth the time I could have spent watching TV.”

Closely observing Logan to gauge his reaction, Morph takes his hand and guides it to his bare chest. His heartbeat is a little too fast, his breaths shaky and hitched. Holding Logan’s hand in place, Morph takes as slow and steady an inhale as he can manage, holds it for a few seconds, then releases a sighing exhale. Again and again. In, hold, out. In, hold, out. Although Logan doesn’t mean to join in the breathing exercises, he finds himself subconsciously matching Morph’s pace.

Over the course of what somehow feels both like several hours and no time at all, Morph’s heartbeat gradually slows to something approaching normal. As it does, the worst of Logan’s terror fades, leaving him exhausted, angry, and embarrassed in its absence.

The monster—the kid is still downstairs with his mother, Cassidy, Beast, and Xavier. The only thing tormenting him is a few bad memories.

“Sit down,” Morph says, pushing him a few steps backwards until the back of his legs hit the edge of the bed. Logan doesn’t sit so much as collapse. His muscles twitch uselessly with unspent adrenaline. “Easy, big guy. A panic attack can really take it out of you. Believe me, I know.”

“You take it easy,” Logan snaps without any heat. “I don’t get panic attacks.”

“Uh-huh,” Morph says dryly, not buying what Logan’s selling even at a discount. Standing between Logan’s spread knees, Morph reaches out and runs a hand through his hair. Logan nearly growls at him—until he feels blunt fingernails scratch over his scalp just right. All the fight bleeds out of him until he can only slump forward and rest his sweaty forehead against Morph’s belly.

While he continues to play with Logan’s hair, Morph speaks again: “You and I aren’t great at this mushy stuff. And I know you too well to bother asking if you want to talk about what’s wrong.”

Logan shakes his head.

“Just… know that if you did want to talk, I’d listen. Okay? I know what it’s like to go through this stuff, and I know it feels like you have to tough it out alone, but—”

“You don’t.”

Morph’s hands go still. “…What’s that?”

“You said you know what it’s like. But you don’t,” Logan repeats, gritting his teeth, “because nothing happened to me.”

“What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” Morph asks, taking a step back so he can look Logan in the eye. “Wait, so this isn’t about Weapon X, or Sabretooth and Fox, or—”

Of course Morph would assume that, because that might actually make some goddamn sense, but no. Some of the worst things that ever happened to him, yet they only ever made him tougher and stronger and angrier. Instead, it’s a kid throwing a temper tantrum that finally managed to break the Wolverine.

—he’s falling apart, weeping at the feet of a stranger he nearly killed, begging her for answers she can’t give him. Why did they do this?—

—pretty brown eyes stare up at him, brutalized and afraid. What’s the matter, punk? Can’t take care of your woman?—

—he sees his own body being ripped apart, melted down into slag. Where are you, Logan? Wolverine!—

“I ran away during the mission,” Logan snarls. There it is, the ugly truth.

A long, terrible silence hangs between them, until—

“Oh.”

Logan cringes and looks away like a scolded hound. Shame burns acidic in the back of his throat.

After a moment, Morph moves to sit next to him on the bed. Logan watches out of the corner of his eye as he leans forward, braces his elbows on his knees, picks at his hands.

Then, to his dismay… Morph quietly chuckles.

—high, mocking laughter echoes through the dark jungle. Who could ever love a freak like you?—

“Funny,” Morph remarks. Unlike the corrupted thing he became under Sinister’s control, there’s no sign of cruelty in his voice, his face, his pretty brown eyes. “I used to think you weren’t afraid of anything.”

“I’m not,” Logan insists, before amending: “I shouldn’t be.”

“Why? Is it so terrible to find out that you’re just as human—er, so to speak—as the rest of us?”

Logan frowns down at the floor between his bare feet.

“Or was all that stuff you told me after the Sentinels came back just bullshit to make me feel better?”

His gaze snaps up to meet Morph’s cold, flat stare. “It’s not the same.”

“How do you figure?”

“Because…” Logan starts, and then doesn’t know how to finish.

Morph, the absolute bastard, smirks like he’s already won the argument. “So you ran away. So what? Did you come right here, afterwards?”

“No,” Logan growls.

“In the time it took you to turn around and get back to the mission, was anyone killed or maimed?”

“The professor fell in a pit of fire.” Morph’s eyes go wide, which is a little gratifying at least. All the more unfortunate that Logan has to tack on a reluctant, “Dr. MacTaggert and I caught him.”

“Jesus… Don’t scare me like that, you asshole. Okay, you almost let Xavier fall in a pit of fire; I almost let Xavier’s brain get stolen by Sentinels,” Morph says with a shrug. “We’re as bad as each other. Anything negative you have to say about yourself, you may as well say about me, too.”

It’s a tidy little trap Morph’s caught him in, without a doubt. Hell of a catch, that catch-22.

“Alright, put it away,” Logan grumbles, and covers Morph’s entire smug, cackling face with one hand.

“What, my dick?” Morph asks, muffled against Logan’s palm. “Talking about some guy’s emotions while my whole hog is out. I feel like I’m in a student film.”

Logan laughs. “You coulda changed that at any point, shapeshifter.”

“Hey, I wasn’t complaining.” Despite his words, Morph shifts back into his uniform as he rises from the bed. “Alright, no bars on the island, but there’s probably a boat somewhere we could steal. Or I can turn into a whale and swim you across to the mainland.”

“Can’t,” Logan says regretfully, shaking his head. “My ride home is leavin’ soon.”

“I’ll buy you a plane ticket. Even better, I’ll pull a guilt-trip on Scott that'd put a Jewish grandmother to shame, get him to come visit me tomorrow, and you can fly back with him after. In the meantime, we’ll rent a hotel room for the night and see if Little Logan has recovered from his stage-fright.”

Logan chuckles. Seeing Morph play Summers like a fiddle would be worth the price of admission alone; that he’d be doing it so Logan can play hooky and drink beer and have sex is just gravy. Still, he can’t help but ask: “You sure it’s a good idea for you to leave?”

“I don’t imagine we’ll see Mister Sinister or any Sentinels having a pint down the pub in a random seaside village in Scotland,” Morph says with a laugh. “What about you? Any chance we’ll run into whatever freaked you out?”

Logan thinks of young Kevin MacTaggert, happy and safe with his mother and Xavier—the man who’s been a better father to him in the past two days than Joe MacTaggert has for the boy’s entire life. In a strange way, maybe that makes the kid a bit of an X-Man, too. “I’ll take my chances.”

Morph grins as he pulls Logan to his feet. He doesn’t let go of Logan’s hand right away, almost absentmindedly stroking the thick, rough callouses, the knots of scar tissue, the bulky pugilist’s knuckles.

Steel is tough. Unyielding. Inflexible. Beaten into the proper shape, ground down to a razor’s edge. Even reforged, a broken blade will always be weaker than it once was.

Luckily, for all that Logan’s bones are plated in metal, he isn’t made of steel. Flesh bleeds, flesh breaks; then it heals and grows back stronger.

Logan is pretty damn good at healing.

[eveenstar]

Hey i saw that you take requests and one of the fandoms tgat you do is creepypasta, if you don't mind could you please make some realistic hc of laughibg jack with a S/O who is workibg currently in a circuss and does little tricks and is like a really talented person?

Sorry if you don't take any of these requests and even if you don't at least i just wanted to ask if everything is going well even if not exactly as you planed.

Fishy kisses from nemo. ;)

I love this request. I love circuses and I love clowns but I absolutely hate Laughing Jack, still, this request was too good to pass on so here it is. Sorry It's short! I ran out of ideas by the end. Hopefully it's still to your liking.

Hope you're doing well, Nemo :)

Laughing Jack with a circus worker!reader

-> You've always loved circuses and anything related to them. You loved the colours, the trinkets, the music, the talented people and most especially....the clowns. Oh, you've always loved clowns. They were your comfort, your safe place. No matter the colours or the height, clowns were simply perfect in your eyes.

->Henceforth, of course, you got a job at a circus. Truth be told, you've always been a particularly flexible person, and gymnastics always came easy to you, so in your mind, there was simply no other way out except working in the place you loved the most.

->The first few weeks had you completely enamored with the place. Your coworkers were great, the public was funny and always willing to be interacted with... Everything was perfect until you met him. The strange monochromatic clown that no one likes but for some reason hasn't left the circus yet.

->No one knows when Jack was hired or where he comes from, but everyone knows his stage name is Laughing Jack. The name always made you roll your eyes. He's an odd fella but the kids seem to like his antics...though most of them end up crying when he smiles.

->Unfortunately (maybe fortunately if you're into that), it seems that you've caught Jack's attention. Maybe it was the way you balance yourself on the rope, how you twirl around as if you're a flying ballerine, or the control you have over your facial expressions and dramatic antics always getting a loud gasp or laughter from the crowd. It's something Jack himself doesn't have.

-> But he wants it. Oh, he dearly wants it. And the only way he can have it is by having you. But you wouldn't figure that out for a long while. No, he needed to prepare you first, make sure you're perfect.

-> As time passes, you swear you begin to see Jack in the corner of your eye. Not only in the circus, but in the streets, in the market and then....at home. You'll never forget those terrifying seconds when you saw a black and white clown with a strange, distorted face peeking at you from around your bedroom door.

-> You avoid Jack for days after that, but that only fuels his obsession. He despises being ignored, absolutely hates it. You can't do this to him and he has to do something about it. Jack knows how to play nice, not for long periods of time, but he knows how to manipulate your little human mind to give itself to him. He's done that to children before, his little puppets, he can do that to you.

-> It all began when you started to notice Jack watching you on stage. Your jumps, your falls... And before you knew it, the monochromatic clown was calling you his "little assistant" - and to make things even worse, you had a wardrobe malfunction and your outfit came out black and white! It only fueled your annoyance even more. Yet, something...dark and unknown pulled you towards it. It all happens too fast.

-> You don't even know why, but you start to accompany Jack on stage. The public doesn't like him but they like you and we all know Jack lives for the twisted attention it gives him. More kids even come to meet the two of you and you try to assure them there's no reason to cry when around Jack because hey he's just an odd guy but that doesn't mean he's dangerous!

->Stupidiest thing you ever told yourself knowing it was a lie. Knowing that Jack was hiding something from you that you couldn't quite grasp but you feared it was your worse nightmare. You just hoped you could live in blissful ignorance for a little while longer, but you knew that wouldn't be the case. Not when there was a storm boiling inside your heart.

[heavyhitterheaux]

She Gets the Last Word Part 2

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

AN: We all know that the First Lady doesn't play when it comes to her husband and PG do not want to have to feel her wrath again 🤭🤭🤭

Synopsis: After dismissing Anitta from the set of First Class, their paths cross again months later at the VMA's hoping that the message from First Lady is still loud and clear.

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Read Part 1 first

Requested by two of my lovely anons and I combined their requests since both centered around the VMA’s. 

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

“Oohh my baby looks so good!” You say as you were reaching up to kiss him but ended up kissing Urban’s hand instead which resulted in you smacking the back of his head. 

“Cut the shit. We should have been gone ten minutes ago.”

“If you don’t get your ass on and let me kiss my husband.” You made a motion to reach up towards him again and instead Urban got in the middle and you ended up kissing his cheek.

“Urban Henry, I’m about to beat you up.”

“You can kiss all yall want later, for now move it!” You then reached up and wiped the remnants of your lipstick off Urban’s cheek.

“Urb, who left you in charge?” Jack asked while laughing and he was finally able to steal a kiss from you.

“Obviously I need to be in charge because if it was left up to me we would have been in the car downstairs already.”

You immediately rolled your eyes as Jack took your hand in his and the three of you started making your way to the elevator. 

Once you reached the bottom floor, everyone was staring at the three of you as Urban held up his hands in defense. 

“Not my fault, I tried. You know Y/N takes forever to get ready.”

“The hell were yall doin? Fuckin?” Druski asked as he looked between the both of you.

“And if we were? I can fuck my husband as much as I please.” You answered while all Jack did was smirk. 

“Yes, babe you can but not when we’re running on a tight schedule.” Brandi added as she reached over to fix your earring. 

“They can wait.” You replied while shrugging.

All of PG, Druski, Julissa, Brandi, and Neelam piled in two SUVs and were now on the way to walk the red carpet at the 2022 VMAs. 

In the first car it was PG and Druski and you felt as though it was a good time to remind them of one simple request before Jack’s big night started.

“PG, I have one simply request for tonight.”

Everyone exchanged glances wondering what your request could possibly be or possibly be about.

“Anything mamas.”

“Make sure Anitta stays the fuck away from my man otherwise I’ll send her the rest of that video along with the other one. I’ll smack a hoe too. I ain’t forget the shit yall pulled.”

“CORRECTION. THE SHIT YOUR HUSBAND PULLED. WE WARNED HIM NOT TO DO IT!”

“Y/N!!”

“Yall said anything!”

“Shit, say less. I’m not trying to have my life flash before my eyes again.” Shloob exclaimed while looking over at you.

“I would pay to see you fight her though.” 2fo confessed and Jack looked over at him with wide eyes.

“Don’t give her any ideas because her ass will do it.”

“Without hesitations.”

“I’m not going back and forth with any of you. I said what I said. Jack this night is really special for you and I want it to go smoothly. However, I will not hesitate to cut a bitch’s throat. Just make sure yall post my bail.”

“Damn, Y/N! When did you get so violent?” Druski asked while looking over at you.

“She always been violent.”

“Nemo, shut up!”

“Uhh, Jack am I lying?”

You looked over at your husband and saw that he was trying not to laugh.

“BABY!”

“I’m sorry mamas but you have. Yall remember when it took almost all of us to break up that fight between her and what was the girls name?”

“Britney Evans! I ain’t never gonna forget that shit. Y/N pulled out half of her tracks.”

“Hmph, that hoe was asking for it. She kept spreading rumors about me.”

“What was the rumor?”

“That I sucked Jack’s dick behind the bleachers at lunch.”

“Well, was it true?”

You got a startled look on your face before looking over at Jack and the two of you busted out laughing.

“So, what if it was? She still didn’t have any business having my name in her mouth.”

“YALL HAVE ALWAYS BEEN FREAKY AS ALL HELL.”

“BROAD DAYLIGHT AT HIGH NOON?!”

“I was horny.” Jack replied while shrugging not seeing anything wrong.

“Should have been somewhere learning something but noooo you just had to get your dick wet.”

“He was learning that he doesn’t like to be deep throated.”

“Y/N, SPARE US THE DETAILS PLEASE.”

“And then I made her send me the video she took of us before I made her delete it.”

“YOU DIDN’T TELL ME THAT.” Jack exclaimed and looking over at you surprised.

“Oh, must have slipped my mind.”

“How does something like that just slip your mind?!”

“Baby, let’s focus on the task at hand.”

“Nah, I’m definitely about to get you for that later.”

“Can’t wait.”

“Can yall chill for five minutes?!”

The both of you looked at each other before answering 2fo.

“No.”

“I am literally amazed everyday that you aren’t pregnant.”

“I just make sure Jack’s cum goes any and everywhere else. Usually it’s my boobs or my stomach. He got it in my hair one time and I was ready to fight him.”

“Y/N, is nothing off limits?! You just don’t care what comes out your mouth!”

“Uhh yall are my best friends. I shouldn’t have to put on a filter around yall.”

“Umm, wait you said you would send her the rest of the video and the other one. What’s the other one?”

“Jack face fucking me.”

“OKAY THAT’S ENOUGH.”

“Well yall asked!” You replied while moving closer to Jack and him wrapping an arm around you.

“Definitely one of my favorites. You took me so well.”

“Or.. should I send her the cream pie one? What do you think babe?”

“Y/N PLEASE MY VIRGIN EARS CANNOT TAKE ANYMORE.”

“Urban you haven’t been a virgin since you were 14. Get the hell on with that shit. Her name was Crystal and you liked her because she had the biggest set of boobs in our grade.”

“You ain’t have to air all my business out like that.”

“Uhh, we literally all know. Druski is the only one who didn’t.” You replied while rolling your eyes.

“You can send me both. For research purposes of course.”

“Fuck off Druski.”

---

You spent the night looking up at your husband in absolute awe.

You were so proud of him and the fact that he was actually getting the recognition was beyond amazing.

Any time he got nervous, he simply looked over at you and you would give him a small smile.

You knew as well as everyone else that your husband was the shit.

As always, PG were sitting all in a row, but they were now joined by Druski, Lil Nas X, and Dua Lipa herself.

You were conversing with Dua when you heard that Anitta would be performing next.

All of them instantly tensed up and looked towards you to see if you had a reaction.

You simply went back to your conversation with Dua not paying it any mind. 

The two of you were discussing a possible collab in the future as well as you wanting her to possibly model for your new clothing line that you would be starting soon.

PG kept their promise and made sure that she didn’t come within ten feet of your man even though you know she wanted to.

You peeped her looking over at PG on the red carpet, she made a motion as if she was getting ready to come closer to them until Jack turned to the right showing that you were hugging that side of his body. Since Jack’s tall frame was shielding you, she didn’t know that you were there too.

Once she did, she walked in the other direction.

The lights dimmed and her performance started and it looked as if everyone in the row was uncomfortable.

Not you though. You could out perform that bitch any day of the week. 

Druski was in his own little world and trying to sing along even though he had no idea what she was saying.

Jack was massaging small circles on the back of your hand and looking down.

Urban was trying to look anywhere but at Anitta.

Nemo played on his phone.

2fo kept his eyes down and to the right 

Ace Pro was trying to avoid eye contact with you.

Quiiso was trying to find something to distract himself.

Shloob was looking at Cope who also made sure not to look at Anitta.

Even though Cope hadn’t be there on set for the exchange between you and Anitta, he wasn’t taking any chances of your having anger aimed towards him.

Once her performance was over, no one in your row clapped besides Druski.

He then looked over at all of you clearly confused.

Until he made eye contact with you and stopped clapping which instantly made you smirked.

Since you all were literally sitting in the front, Anitta quickly caught onto this and the two of you made eye contact.

You simply sent a small smile her way and she got a solemn expression on her face indicating her frustration but quickly recovered since she knew that the cameras were on her. 

“Is it safe to look up now?” Cope whispered at Shloob who then looked over at you.

All you did was nod and let out a small laugh.

Anitta knew better than to try you again.... or so you thought.

All of PG were now backstage waiting to be seated in the makeshift plane to get ready for Jack’s performance with Fergie when she made her presence known.

She had just accepted an award and thank goodness none of you were out there to hear her speech.

If you had tomatoes, you would have threw them at her.

“Jack.” She called out and everyone went wide eyed except you.

“Oh shit.”

“Nuh uh, she better keep it moving.”

“God, I am not tryna die today by the hands of the first lady.”

She tried to move closer to Jack who still had yet to respond to her, but you stepped directly in front of him before she could get any closer.

All Jack did was rub the back of his neck indicating his nervousness. 

“Did you need something?” You calmly looked up and asked her since she literally towered above you.

“I just wanted to say congratulations Y/N that’s all.” She responded while holding up her hands in defense.

“Okay you did so move on.”

“Hmm, I still see Jack has yet to put his dog on a leash.”

All you then saw was red.

“BITCH!” You immediately took off your shoes and lunged for her and she immediately jumped back and flinched.

“OH FUCK!”

“WORLD STARRRRR!” You heard Druski yell as he took out his phone.

“BABY! DON’T!” Thank God Jack and Urban caught you before you could get to her as everyone was now standing around nervous and not knowing what to do.

“I got your dog you dumb ass bitch. You talk a whole lotta shit for someone who can’t back it up. However, I can and have no hesitations to whoop your ass when the awards are over.”

Anitta then suddenly started to look nervous and simply shook her head.

“Whatever.”

“Naw it ain’t whatever. I will mop the floor with you.”

“Shit, she not lyin. I’ve seen her in action. Don’t let her being little fool you.”

“Take your ass on. I’ve now warned you twice to stay away from him. The third time I won’t be so nice.”

“I was just literally trying to get to my seat on the plane and Y/N is over here choosing violence.” You heard Lil Nas X say before he busted out laughing.

“Well you can thank this bitch for that.” You said while eyeing her up and down.

Without another word, she walked into the other direction but not before letting out a deep breath indicating her frustration.

Jack then reached down to help you put your shoes back on and help you to your seat.

“I’m sorry, babe.”

“No, don’t apologize. Shit was kinda funny actually. I love how you’re always ready to fight for your man.”

“And don’t you ever fucking forget it.” You responded as he reached down to kiss you.

“NO! STOP! We don’t want to be a witness to yall eating each other’s faces off and fucking.”

“Send me the video you were talking about earlier!”

“What video?” Dua then asked clearly confused.

“NO DRUSKI. IT’S FOR ME AND MY WIFE’S EYES ONLY.”

“Sharing is caring.”

“What video?!” Dua asked again.

“Jack was face fucking her! Oh and the cream pie one too!”

“Damn, I’d pay to see that. I know that pretty mouth took him so well” Dua responded while winking over at you.

“I don’t share my wife!”

“But you do with Urban!”

“Imma beat the shit outta yall if yall don’t shut up!”

“Are we shooting a porn scene and no one told me?” Chloe asked before busting out laughing.

“I’m down if I can be the third to Jack and Y/N.” Dua confessed before taking her seat.

“Me first!” Druski yelled and the two of you rolled your eyes.

You were now back sitting in the audience with PG while Jack was still backstage changing from his performance.

Dua was set to present the last award of the night and you just so happen to be nominated.

Right along with Anitta.

For video of the year.

I mean you didn’t really feel a type of way about it since all you were focused on Jack and he had had an amazing night and deserved every award that he had gotten.

All you could think about was those late nights and him feeling discouraged, but you would reassure him time and time again that his hard work would some day pay off.

And you were right.

“And now I present to you the last award of the night for video of the year. Let’s take a look at the nominees.”

“Doja Cat, Woman.”

“Lil Nas X and Jack Harlow, Industry Baby.”

“Harry Styles, As it Was.”

“Anitta, Envolver.”

“Y/N Harlow, Big Energy.”

“Ed Sheeran, Shivers.”

Since your emotional support person was backstage, Urban opted to hold your hand which you did at all award shows when you would be nominated.

The butterflies in your stomach that would erupt would be on 1,000.

The way you looked at it, you would be satisfied if anyone won the award.

Except her.

“And the award goes to....”

Dua looked down at the paper and laughed before revealing who it was.

“The beautiful lady that I keep shooting my shot at, none other than... Y/N HARLOWWW! BIG ENERGY!!”

Your eyes immediately began to water as you stood up and made your way to the stage.

Winning awards was something that you never took lightly and you were grateful that people recognized your talent enough in order for you to be nominated. 

Urban had helped you up the steps and you hugged Dua before taking the award from her.

“So proud of you!”

“Thank you. I’m just..wow.”

You made your way to begin your acceptance speech and was met with nothing but screams and applause.

“Yall... yall are too good to me. I definitely did not expect this and if any of you know me yall know I was rooting for my husband to win.”

“WE KNOW!”

You immediately laughed before shaking your head.

“I definitely did not think Big Energy would be as big as it was and I only have my fans to thank for that. Oh, and make sure yall thank Jack because he’s the first one that heard it and I honestly wasn’t even going to release it.”

Just then you were startled by someone picking you up and bringing you into a bone crushing hug.

No one other than your husband.

“My wife is the shit and don’t yall forget it! What I tell you mamas?! What I tell you?!”

You immediately heard a series of aww’s from the exchange between the two of you. Jack then reached down to lightly kiss you before allowing you to finish your speech.

“Whew yall my man so fine and we just love a supportive spouse,”

“YES WE DO!”

“But, I love yall. PG this is literally only the beginning and I cannot wait to see what the future holds for us.”

Liked by jackharlow, druski2funny, dualipa, urbanwyatt, and 3,459,182 others

y/ninsta: I AM SO PROUD OF MY BABY!!! My husband is the shit and don't you forget it 🥺

jackharlow: I love you mamas. thank you for always being there for me. couldn’t have done this without you constantly pushing me for greatness.

y/ninsta: I love you more and I wouldn't have it any other way. 😘

jackharlow: y/ninsta don't start with an I love you war

y/ninsta: jackharlow you won last time. it's my turn. 🤣😂

dualipa: jackharlow well deserved!!! Now lemme get a copy of that video...

jackharlow: dualipa just when we were starting to be on good terms you just had to act outta pocket

saweetie: what video!?

sza: SPILL IT

druski2funny: I agree with dualipa. I need mine for research purposes.

theestallion: WHAT VIDEO

druski2funny: all imma say is who knew y/n liked to be face fucked 🤭

y/ninsta: druski2funny that's why I don't tell you anything

Liked by y/ninsta, dualipa, urbanwyatt. druski2funny, champagnepapi, and 3,497,861 others

jackharlow: We got nothin but winners in this family. my wife and I respectfully letting yall know. So proud of you gorgeous. 😍😍

y/ninsta: I just knew you and lilnasx were about to win lol

lilnasx: wouldn’t have anyone else but you taking it if it didn’t go to us!

y/ninsta: lilnasx aww thank you honey 💕

saweetie: GO BEST FRIEND! that green on you is amazing!

y/ninsta: saweetie thank you bestie! jackharlow actually picked out my outfit!

saweetie: jackharlow oh so you do have some fashion sense

jackharlow: saweetie what’s that supposed to mean?!

y/ninsta: saweetie he not no fashionista but he fly tho! 😌

normani: look as long as it wasn’t ol girl lol

urbanwyatt: y/n was this close to kicking her ass backstage

saweetie: urbanwyatt SPILL IT NOW. I knew my ass should have went. 

urbanwyatt: saweetie me and jack literally had to hold her back. umm the girl who shall not be named spoke to jack and y/n immediately stepped in front of him making sure she didn’t come any closer. all of us just knew we were about to be posting bail money

lilnasx: BITCHHH when Y/N threw off her shoes I was like AWW SHIT

2forwoyne: and then you had druski2funny’s dumbass screaming world star and instigating the shit and he pulled out his phone to record it

jackharlow: shloob was praying not to die 😂🤣

shloob_: shit that’s what ol girl needed to be doing. when y/n lunged my eyes went so wide

druski2funny: 2forwoyne well somebody had to do it!

nemo: I got flashbacks to when she got into a fight with that Britney girl our sophomore year and got suspended for five days

y/ninsta: nemo IT WAS ONLY THREE

2forwoyne: y/ninsta your ass still got suspended tho

dualipa: thank God for jackharlow and urbanwyatt’s quick reflexes lol

neelamthadhani: when are people going to realize that y/n doesn’t play about jack and jack doesn’t play about y/n

y/ninsta: neelamthadhani it seems like imma have to beat somebody’s ass before the message gets across. oh anitta!!! jackharlow sent you another video!!

anitta: y/ninsta I just wanted to say congrats that’s it 

y/ninsta: anitta you can do that on social media

anitta: y/ninsta he’s a grown ass man that can have friends

saweetie: anitta take your ass on somewhere because y/n is about to tear into your ass. don’t say nobody warned you.

y/ninsta: anitta not friends that are women who like to sit on his lap and want to fuck him. been doing that since we were 15 and trust and believe he wants for nothing. get your own man because jackharlow is taken and has been for ten years. if you want to be a hoe, go somewhere else and do it. not in the Harlow household because you will get your ass beat

jackharlow: what my wife says goes and vice versa 😌

dualipa: jackharlow I can still get a taste tho right or the video? whichever you feel generous enough to give

jackharlow: dualipa see yourself out NOW

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[slow-burn-sally]

My Favorite Characters with ADHD

Again, these are only my opinions.

Jeremy - The Secret Of NIMH. Come on. Look at him. He is a combined-type ADHD boy if ever there was one. Distracted, clumsy, impulsive, I bet the writers either had ADHD, knew someone who had ADHD, or had a child with ADHD.

2. Newton Geiszler - Pacific Rim.

Also impulsive as fuck, a class clown, obnoxious, yet obnoxiously smart, and somehow still charming as fuck. He reads very ADHD to me. BB. Forgive me for using the meme gif. It's just so good.

3. Rose Nylund - The Golden Girls

Who doesn't love Rose? She's friendly, sweet, fun, creative, horny, and hilarious. She also can't remember anything for more than five minutes, and is the human equivalent of a small, cute dog who bumps into things a lot by accident. I love you Rose. Long live Betty White.

4. Sherlock Holmes (The Jeremy Brett Granada-Holmes).

I actually think Holmes may have had both ADHD and Autism, but really, Brett's Holmes is bombastic, impulsive (seeing a trend), able to hyperfocus at the speed of light. Overshares, blows up friendships. Cannot keep a clean flat. Hyper as all get out. Think about it.

5. Nadja of Antipaxos - What We Do In The Shadows

She's a hot mess. Distracted, forgetful, intensely interested in some things, and cannot be bothered to give a flying fuck about other things. Out of sight, out of mind. She's probably also AuDHD actually, but for the purposes of this list, I will draw your attention to her many impulsive and rash decisions surrounding her emotions, and her over the top RSD. She's so beautiful, help.

6. Jonathan Strange - Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell.

Oh my god such an ADHD boy! He cannot sit still, and he has no patience for rules or regulations. He's self centered, impulsive (hello!), running off on the King's Roads, and drinking mouse juice to make himself go mad on purpose. Failing at four careers before finally becoming a magician by absolute accident. I love you Johnty. Never change.

7. Cornelius Hickey (or whatever his real name is) - The Terror.

He's impulsive (aye-oh!), makes sudden, rash decisions, is prone to flashes of anger, has off the charts RSD, and though he manages to hyperfocus on sabotaging the expedition for his own needs, he still makes a lot of careless mistakes and fucks it up royally. Too bad one of his hyper-focuses wasn't "learning about ships". I love you Hickey, you adorable bastard. How is his hair always so good?

8. Back to JS&MN for Christopher Drawlight.

Christopher Drawlight cannot sit still to save his life. He's always being charming, chatting people up, and making social connections, both real and fabricated by himself. Only sometimes, he loses track of which lies he's told, and to whom, which gets him in a lot of trouble. His hyperfocus is social status, and he can't let it go, even at the bitter end. He's really one of my favorite characters, even if he is a horrible person. This goes for both book and show Drawlight, by the way. Both top notch. Both ADHD as fuck.

9. Dory - Finding Nemo.

I mean... do I have to say anything else? I don't think I do. I love Dory so much. I relate so, so much. Inattentive ADHD Fish Sister.

10. All versions of Doctor Who, but Tenant is becoming iconic, and I love him, so let's go with number 10!

Just an all around hyperactive ADHD guy. Fun, creative, adventurous, risk taker, IMPULSIVE (it doesn't end). But really, all Doctor Whos feel ADHD to me. There's something capricious and clumsy and dreamy and jumpy about all of them.

[zeus-japonicus]

Hi Nemo, how did you come up with the name for Trice Forgotten? Were there other titles you considered?

ayo friend! i did not come up with the name, the marketing people at RQ did! the title i pitched with was "seven seas and how to eat them". There was a long list of proposed names that i then got to rank, with TF (affectionately nicknamed TriForce by Morgan) that won. I think a lot of people do mishear it for "twice" or "thrice" but it was named so because "trice" having the double meaning of instant & anchor windlass, and "forgotten" for all the people who have been made forgotten. I interpret it as "how quickly we forget" and "the mechanisms of forgetting" but that's just me :3

[separocean-anxiety]

[start image description: The illustrated cover of "On Anemone Lane," featuring human Dory, Nemo, and Marlin as the titular neighborhood stretches on behind them. Dory and Marlin stand on either side of Nemo, eyeing each other adoringly as Nemo looks on ahead, clasping his hands together with delight. Dory’s corner is adorned with blue forget-me-nots, while Marlin’s is with orange anemone flowers; Dory’s blue house sits on the left side of the street, while a massive pink weeping-willow-like tree stands on the right side, presumably cloaking Marlin and Nemo’s home with its blossoming branches. Above the family is the story's title, whose letters house a butterfly and firefly respectively. At the very top of the image is the tagline: Everyone finds a way home. /end image description]

The cover for my human au fic!! The prologue has finally been released, and I couldn’t be more proud of this story and my favorite found family 🧡💙🧡

Below, you can find a link to where you can read On Anemone Lane. I’d love to hear what you think! These three are so fun to write, and the adventure’s only just begun!!!

Overlooking a sleepy beach town is the quiet and not-so-crowded Anemone Lane, home to Marlin and his young son Nemo, and their neighbor Dory across the street. Although they live in separate houses, they are one family at heart, and after two ocean-crossing adventures, the trio can't wait to settle back into blissful routine, closer together than ever before (as close as they can be, that is). One street is such a trivial divide, but the distance is telling when Marlin and Nemo's own house sits beneath the aptly named Anemotree, whose cascading blossomed branches bear the soft and deadly anemone blooms, to which only the father-son pair is immune. Long ago, Marlin planted a tree that would protect his family from towering alien Divers and mutated fish. He has since braved all of this and more; ensuring their safety time and again; reckoning, once and for all, with the ocean outside. To this day, the Anemotree stands on Anemone Lane… between Marlin and the rest of the family he found.

https://www.wattpad.com/1374722846-🦋-on-anemone-lane-proem-aloha-ocean

[maegalkarven]

"What happens now?"

Nemo has spent unimaginable amount of time staring at his father's skull, its eyes unlit. Was he watching still? Did he see Nemo brought back to life by the forces the man himself did not understand? Or did he no longer care?

And just who exactly was Withers?

"Milord?"

It took a tentative touch to his shoulder for the man to finally turn around. And there they were, the damned, bloodied fools of his father's unholy assassins. The best of the best, the worst of the worst.

Staring at him like sheep brought to the slaughter.

"Yes?" It took all of his composure to simply shake the hand off and not break it; but composure was something he had a long good time of practicing.

And without the urge it was almost...easy. Almost like violence was something he didn't have to perform anymore.

"What will happen now?" Asked the girl, and Bhaal beneath, how didn't he notice how young they all are? None of the assassins looked older than forty and it said something about this whole business. Probably something very unsavory.

Nemo took a deep, steadying breath.

"Now," his voice echoed from the walls, multiplying it in a rather menacing manner. "You will renounce my father. You will lay down your weapons and your faith and will do no more of his bidding. Either you walk out of this godless or-" and at that he sent a glare more suited to be accompanied by a knife than by simple words. Seven hells, words were hard. "You will not walk out of it."

"Are..." another assasin raised a voice. "Are you asking us to forsake Bhaal?"

"Yes."

"And the alternative is..?"

"Joining his ranks on the other plane, of course," Nemo smiled his best, 'charming' smile. "But you all should be ready for that, everyone who kills should be ready to meet their own death. Or are you the cowardly kind?"

"So you will just kill us?" Oh, they argue now. Stupid lot. "As simple as that?"

"As simple as that," he gestured back at where whatever the fuck was left of his sister dearest lay. "Just like her. Though, I suspect, you'd throw less of a fuss over it. Or will you?"

"But we did everything Bhaal asked of us!" Another of his bunch of stupid idiots complained. "Everything you asked of us! And you will just...discard us?"

Of course he will. Did they not realize what kind of place it was, what kind of a "family"? Murder was what they did, all of them.

Him - more than the others.

"If, notice the emphasis, you do not reject Bhaal. But tear him out of your hearts - and you can walk out of this alive."

"And what about our contracts?"

That actually made him pause.

"Your...what now?"

The girl, the brave foolish girl who dared to touch him, spoke.

"Our murder contracts, you know, the ones we earn our wages from?"

They earned their wages? No, scratch that, they had wages?

He was sure he would not be able to forget that.

"Remind me for a moment, what's the deal with these," he winced. "Contracts?"

"Well...People ask us to kill someone," the girl shrugged. "We kill the target and get paid for that. Don't you remember? You set up the whole deal, said murders won't pay for our food unless we do something about it. And we did something about it," she grinned, obviously proud of "the whole deal."

"It was such a smart thing to do too, Lady Orin would never! All she wanted us to do is to perform the murders...fancily."

"By playing her corpse-dollies, I see."

Someone snickered. The girl frowned.

"Something like that. We had to run the operation in secret, but what else we were supposed to do?" She gestured around wildly. "The temple might provide us shelter, but the food? And what of our families? Some of us have children, you know, parents. Who will support them?"

Alright, now this was becoming weird.

"You're saying you've killed people...to feed your families?"

"I have a pet," someone from the crowd shouted. "It's an alligator and let me tell you, providing for this thing is costly."

"You have a pet alligator?"

"Yes," the man stepped closer. "His name is Minty, you've met him! Said he's a mighty beast and what I'd better feed him the corpses of my victims, that'd save the costs."

Despite his best judgment Nemo could feel a smirk crawl up his lips and firmly settle there.

A pet alligator Misty. Ridiculous.

There was a bunch of freaks and weirdos standing in front of him.

But again, wasn't he the same as them? A blade made of flesh, a man knowing how to take life and little else.

Maybe something could be salvaged here yet.

Maybe.

"Alright," the sigh he let out didn't feel forced, yet there was some anticipation too. Murder was familiar. Murder what brought money was...prospective. "Show me these contracts."

[not-named-nemo]

oh god. oh lord. help me.

uh, hello, my name is Nemo and I realllyyyy don’t know what I’m doing here. Heard there was a commotion in Yokohama Japan and- here I am!

-ooc-

BLOG BY DUCKDUCKGOOSE!!

More lore will be found out

Nemo is in his late 20’s-ish so yeah

his ability is a WIP but he currently believes to have no ability

he’s ex military and kinda jumpy be nice to him :(

The guy (British) ever

also his real name is Wilkie Collins, based off the British author of the same name!!

Oh also he has sharp metal fangs

and he’s not human oops did I forget to mention :3

ABILITY LORE

[justashamwithwastedpotential]

Oh oh oh! Can I have🥛 🐎 ❤️ 🙄 for both NPC and Canon Skylar (and also Finn, if it's not too much)?

Of course!

Finn

[🥛] What's their reaction to drinking the iridium milk?

Milk? M I L K! Finn downed it all in one go. He was so dehydrated and hungry from fighting through so many levels of the Skull Cavern that he was glad to drink something. Of course, it made him feel horribly sick afterward, but so did just about everything he ate so it wasn't anything too new to him.

[🐎] Does your Farmer get a horse? What do they name it?

Finn doesn't have any animals yet, but he's thinking about it. It would be nice not to tire himself out running around everywhere all the time. As for the name? Probably Westley or Buttercup.

[❤️] What are their loved gifts?

Any artisanal goods. If he can eat or drink it without it upsetting his stomach he loves it immediately. He also likes anything that helps make farming a little easier like speed grow and sprinklers.

[🙄] Do they have anyone they openly dislike? Why?

Finn isn't the most social so he hasn't really been around anyone long enough to develop any sort of disliking towards anyone.

NPC Skylar

[🥛] What's their reaction to drinking the iridium milk?

NPC Skylar isn't aware of Mr. Qi, however I imagine the offer would be politely declined. NPC Skylar is familiar with a wide variety of strange ingredients and alchemical potions from her Nonna's teachings, but if there's one thing she knows is that you really shouldn't try to consume anything you're unfamiliar with. There are special procedures for those sorts of things for a reason.

[🐎] Does your Farmer get a horse? What do they name it?

NPC Skylar doesn't have a horse and doesn't plan on getting one. She quite enjoys walking from place to place both as a form of exercise and just to enjoy the sights. Plus she has enough animals on her hands. She'd rather not throw another one into the mix.

[❤️] What are their loved gifts?

Behold. The gift taste data.

Sans Super Meal which I keep forgetting to fix and Ridgeside taste bc I don't have it installed at the moment.

[🙄] Do they have anyone they openly dislike? Why?

Skylar doesn't like Alex, Haley, Pierre or Morris. All of them tend to make her feel uncomfortable in some manner, but tends to remain polite regardless. Especially since Sophia and Jeric are also friends with Haley.

Canon Skylar

[🥛] What's their reaction to drinking the iridium milk?

Like hell they're drinking some mysterious substance from some mysterious man. Wasn't Magnus putting them up to that already bad enough? They're not trusting it. Qi can take his weird snake milk and shove it.

[🐎] Does your Farmer get a horse? What do they name it?

I have no excuses. All clownfish are Nemo. All horses are Shadowmere. It's just a rule.

[❤️] What are their loved gifts?

Similar to NPC Skylar unsurprisingly, but she also likes gifts that her friends love because that means she can regift it to them.

[🙄] Do they have anyone they openly dislike? Why?

Alex and Morris. Haley annoys her, but that's about it. Alex however she wants to deck regularly and she generally avoids him when possible. Morris she'd drop kick for breathing in her direction. Hates the man and everything he represents. Named her first pig after him.

[yeetmetotheforbiddenwildwest]

I dOnT kNoW hOw HoRsE GeNeTiCs WoRk

Artemis is a seal brown

Jorvik Name: Quailquiver

Coat: Seal Brown

Gender: Mare

Professions: Archery, Soul riding, Exploration, Ranger work

Original Owner(s): Harriet and Larry (The totally not pirates)

(The Championship pirates- oh sorry. In Harriet’s words, “This Seadog is my Brother Larry. Don’t be afraid; We are NOT pirates. We are respectable sailors who unfortunately got seasick a lot so our captain marooned us on this Island.” The ‘Respectable Pirates- Sorry! Sailors. Respectable Sailors (totally not pirates) at Fort Pinta and… Pari the parrot. Larry’s parrot. I think they’re pirates. Or at least they were?)

(So, apparently the ‘totally not pirates’ siblings are afraid of horses… but they agreed to run a championship at which they were guaranteed to see horses every day and arrived on Jorvik with five horses. Four beautiful high-end stallions and one beautiful mischievous Trakehner filly (Artemis) who they were all too glad to hand off to the 14-year-old who had gone for a walk on the beach to investigate the new championship. …eh, whatever it’s Jorvik, there are horses everywhere you look. Doesn’t matter where or what direction, there are horses everywhere.)

Sarafina or Hera (Artemis' mother) is a Dutch Warmblood x Trakehner cross stolen by the totally not pirates' crew (the liver | I was also thinking that Bay Quarter could be her coat color)

Nightfall (aka Neo, nicknamed for Catherine's horse Nemo but short for Neoptolemus) is a Chestnut Sorrel (more on the brown side though)

His mother is a chestnut/sorrel DWB except her coat is duller in color and more brown

Breed: Jorvik WB-Mustang cross x Dutch WB crossbreed

Barn Name: Neoptolemus (Neo)

Jorvik Name: Nightfall

Past Owner: Thomas Moorland

Owner: AZ's Ranger uncle

HC(s): Has star and snip face marking

Shasta is a Flaxen chestnut (also on the brown side)

Mistdrift/Misty is his mother

Calypso is a Bay Pangare gotland pony.

Barn Name: Callie

Name: Calypso

Jorvik Name: Leafpool

Coat: Bay Pangare

Gender: Mare

Owner: Rhiannon (Wild Warden; Keeper of Aideen; Druid)

Rider: Arizona

Here's her mother

Their father is a Norfolk Roadster(HC: the breed is extinct everywhere but Jorvik) x Ardennes cross Starbreed named Nanook.

Please bare with me. Wait until January when the Ardennes are released, I will get back to you on what Nanook's coat color is.

This is a lore post. Forget genetics. They're a family. I may give them different mothers because people tend to breed stallions with multiple mares.

Spent way too much time on this. Thanks for reading my ramblings.

[pixarpals]

Found Fish Family headcanons? 🧡💙🧡

oooh a great question !!

nemo loves to talk about what he learned at school, he finds the ocean to be very fascinating! marlin and dory love to hear his little stories :o) hes eager to see more of the ocean but always loves to invite his fish family :o) he starts naming everything he comes across naming several facts about them. he feels so happy when marlin and dory listen!

dory loves to make up games that nemo is eager to join in, both bring marlin into the fun as well! nemo has also learned many games from his friends at school that he tries to teach the others how to play.

dory has gotten back into her childhood interest of collecting shells! if marlin or nemo ever come across any they always give them to dory :o) she wants to make it very pretty !

dory likes to make little doodles in the sand (i like sand sand is squishy!) but sometimes she forgets what she was drawing and swims away. marlin always finishes the drawings for her :o)

marlin tries to bring nemo to places he might be interested in (that arent too dangerous) when he has a day off of school and so nemo is not bored. dory comes too of course ! dory can collect any shells she finds and nemo can bring home new discoveries to show to mr ray! he loves to find out what things are! they are a very happy fish family :o) these are just a few i have haha but i hope you like them ! :o)

[skoulsons]

if anyone is interested. live notes of mine while watching ep5

AHSOKA EP5 UNHINGED NOTES

Jacens so cute

HIM HIDING BEHIND CHOP

the way he peaked out 😭

HUYANG WITH SABINES HELMET

DOES HE THINK SHE DIED

‘I told them to stay together’ :((

‘They never listen’ :/

SHADOW WARRIOR

OHEJDOSB DOEHDNEOHS WI OH

world between world looks so cool

ok actually not ready for this conversation uhhhhh

YOU LOOK OLD 💀💀

baylan Skoll my boy

IM HERE TO FINISH YOUR TRAIJIJG

he’s so close to her why am iiiiiii

snips :(

can they hug actually.

OOIEHZ F SNTHE BLUEEEEE

I WOKT FIGHT YOU

IVE HESRD THAT HEFORE SJXHSKHDKSHSKSHDKS

I KNOW SHE SAYS THAT IN REBELS WHEN HES VADER AND THE WIAGDKWBDBDKSGSKS

I never finished clone wars or got very far or seen rebels in full I can’t imagine how this feels to the big big fans are you guys ok

SENATOR ORGANA :(

jacen what do you see bby

He’s so force sensitive.

LISTEN TO YOUR SON HES LIKE YOUR HUSBAND

THE LIGHTSABERS

bro world between worlds is crazy how does this even work

THE SCOREEEEEEEE SIDHSKDHSK ITS SO DELICIOUS 🤌🏻🤌🏻

THE GHOST I love hearing it called that

JACEN HAS ABILITIES HIS FATHER KANAN WAS A JEDI WE GOR THE NAME DROP AND THE CONFIRMATION AND THE AND

ohdkshdsk not Anakin’s iconic move

I love their footsteps on the bridge(??)

oh. oh no. are we getting flashbacks.

what’s going ON

O RN SKFHSKD ITS ORDER66 ZisNT IT

holy shit. it’s the 501st and anakin leading them.

OR NOT??? What’s going on

Hayden as clone wars anakin whatsjshskhsjdg

live action ahsoka wjayskwhkshd

TEMURA????? ?:?/?

GET AEAY FEOM THE ME HIS HAND ON HERS WHCIH CLONE IS THATD SKDHKSDHSJDHSK

REXRSRXWRXRSRXWTXRREXREXREXRSRX THATS GOTTA HE REX AFORSS FROM ANI RIGHT

is that aayla too i can’t tell but that’s gotta be rex right RIGHT

ITS REXRS DJSGDKSGDKSDGSKSGGS REX MY SWEET BOY DMDHDKDHD VEISHSMSVD

this is so weird in a good way but it’s WEIRD

imsorry I’m still kinda losing it over rex.

OFJGJHHHGGHA DBA THE VADER CHANGE THE CHANGE TO VADER AND BACK TO ANAKIN theyre reallt jusf teasing

xwings are so beautiful

‘You do things your way bc you care. That’s why people like you’ that’s like the nicest thing Huyang has said

Oh wonderful 💀💀

OOOOH she’s got two sabers now

OOOOH THIS IS THE MANDALORIAN ARC I REGNOGIXE THE ARMOR

AND THEYRE THE 332ND THE CLONES THEYGE GOT THE ORANGES AND WHITE AND BLUE

REXXXXXXX NIFE WORK COMMANDER MY LITTLE BROTHER AND SISTER

INLOVE HIM SO MUCH DISHDKDHDKDH

her s7 armor 🤌🏻

SIEGE OF MANDALORE YEAH YEAH YEAH

He looks SO s7/rots anakin I love this

Oh wow that shot looked very reminiscent oh the one from rots (I think form what I remember it’s been a minute)

OUIHRBS DENITS RED NOW

OOOHDBA FEKSJ THAT SHOT THATS SUCH A GOOD SHOT THEYRE LIKE SILOUHETTES WIRH THE LIGHTSABERS AND ASKDHSKDH

ENAODHWKSH THE ANAKIN TO VADER TO ANAKIN SKDHEKSHDKV STOP THIS DAVE

HIS EYES :(((

his one eye being red and the other being normal akdhskdhskdhhafsu

I know it might be the saber but also.

THEY STILL LOOK SO SITHY WHDJDID

THEYRE NORMAL YEAHHHHH

he’s gone :(

COULDNT THEYBHAVE HUGGED?????

aw she’s all tucked in <3

oh WHOA her thing is off I don’t think it’s ever been off before

not to take away from everything this episode has been so far but I really just like one scene with baylan and his daughter shin please.

heras little family :(

AWWWW AJDHAKDB CUYE LITTLR HUG LOOK AT THEM

Ahsoka cradling his head 😭

“No.” “Yes.” “No.” Love huyang

come onnn ahsoka

DOTS ARE CONNECTING

Chops “uh oh” 😭

PURRGILSSSSS

FOLLOW THOSE PURRGILS

is it two r’s or two l’s I forget

they just spawned In 💀

they’re so gross and cool at the same time

I feel like they should be following the current and not against it but. what do i know

oooh big boy

so. I don’t know what’s gone with them what is the goal here how do they work exactly

LOVE her white outfit are you KIDDING

AW THEYRE SWIMMING IN CIRCLES

do they get eaten or

ok well this is definitely going to end badly

carson 💀💀💀

CARSON

‘Kiddo’ im cool 🤠

orhskd it’s eye

looks like the mouth from nemo.

this is so insane

“I have no idea” 😭💀

THEYRE CHARGING UP TO JUMP

They way their tails light up 😭

[hellsitesonlybookclub]

20k Leagues under the sea, Jules Verne

chapter 21-22

CHAPTER XXI CAPTAIN NEMO’S THUNDERBOLT

We looked at the edge of the forest without rising, my hand stopping in the action of putting it to my mouth, Ned Land’s completing its office.

“Stones do not fall from the sky,” remarked Conseil, “or they would merit the name aerolites.”

A second stone, carefully aimed, that made a savoury pigeon’s leg fall from Conseil’s hand, gave still more weight to his observation. We all three arose, shouldered our guns, and were ready to reply to any attack.

“Are they apes?” cried Ned Land.

“Very nearly—they are savages.”

“To the boat!” I said, hurrying to the sea.

It was indeed necessary to beat a retreat, for about twenty natives armed with bows and slings appeared on the skirts of a copse that masked the horizon to the right, hardly a hundred steps from us.

Our boat was moored about sixty feet from us. The savages approached us, not running, but making hostile demonstrations. Stones and arrows fell thickly.

Ned Land had not wished to leave his provisions; and, in spite of his imminent danger, his pig on one side and kangaroos on the other, he went tolerably fast. In two minutes we were on the shore. To load the boat with provisions and arms, to push it out to sea, and ship the oars, was the work of an instant. We had not gone two cable-lengths, when a hundred savages, howling and gesticulating, entered the water up to their waists. I watched to see if their apparition would attract some men from the Nautilus on to the platform. But no. The enormous machine, lying off, was absolutely deserted.

Twenty minutes later we were on board. The panels were open. After making the boat fast, we entered into the interior of the Nautilus.

I descended to the drawing-room, from whence I heard some chords. Captain Nemo was there, bending over his organ, and plunged in a musical ecstasy.

“Captain!”

He did not hear me.

“Captain!” I said, touching his hand.

He shuddered, and, turning round, said, “Ah! it is you, Professor? Well, have you had a good hunt, have you botanised successfully?”

“Yes Captain; but we have unfortunately brought a troop of bipeds, whose vicinity troubles me.”

“What bipeds?”

“Savages.”

“Savages!” he echoed, ironically. “So you are astonished, Professor, at having set foot on a strange land and finding savages? Savages! where are there not any? Besides, are they worse than others, these whom you call savages?”

“But Captain——”

“How many have you counted?”

“A hundred at least.”

“M. Aronnax,” replied Captain Nemo, placing his fingers on the organ stops, “when all the natives of Papua are assembled on this shore, the Nautilus will have nothing to fear from their attacks.”

The Captain’s fingers were then running over the keys of the instrument, and I remarked that he touched only the black keys, which gave his melodies an essentially Scotch character. Soon he had forgotten my presence, and had plunged into a reverie that I did not disturb. I went up again on to the platform: night had already fallen; for, in this low latitude, the sun sets rapidly and without twilight. I could only see the island indistinctly; but the numerous fires, lighted on the beach, showed that the natives did not think of leaving it. I was alone for several hours, sometimes thinking of the natives—but without any dread of them, for the imperturbable confidence of the Captain was catching—sometimes forgetting them to admire the splendours of the night in the tropics. My remembrances went to France in the train of those zodiacal stars that would shine in some hours’ time. The moon shone in the midst of the constellations of the zenith.

The night slipped away without any mischance, the islanders frightened no doubt at the sight of a monster aground in the bay. The panels were open, and would have offered an easy access to the interior of the Nautilus.

At six o’clock in the morning of the 8th January I went up on to the platform. The dawn was breaking. The island soon showed itself through the dissipating fogs, first the shore, then the summits.

The natives were there, more numerous than on the day before—five or six hundred perhaps—some of them, profiting by the low water, had come on to the coral, at less than two cable-lengths from the Nautilus. I distinguished them easily; they were true Papuans, with athletic figures, men of good race, large high foreheads, large, but not broad and flat, and white teeth. Their woolly hair, with a reddish tinge, showed off on their black shining bodies like those of the Nubians. From the lobes of their ears, cut and distended, hung chaplets of bones. Most of these savages were naked. Amongst them, I remarked some women, dressed from the hips to knees in quite a crinoline of herbs, that sustained a vegetable waistband. Some chiefs had ornamented their necks with a crescent and collars of glass beads, red and white; nearly all were armed with bows, arrows, and shields and carried on their shoulders a sort of net containing those round stones which they cast from their slings with great skill. One of these chiefs, rather near to the Nautilus, examined it attentively. He was, perhaps, a “mado” of high rank, for he was draped in a mat of banana-leaves, notched round the edges, and set off with brilliant colours.

I could easily have knocked down this native, who was within a short length; but I thought that it was better to wait for real hostile demonstrations. Between Europeans and savages, it is proper for the Europeans to parry sharply, not to attack.

During low water the natives roamed about near the Nautilus, but were not troublesome; I heard them frequently repeat the word “Assai,” and by their gestures I understood that they invited me to go on land, an invitation that I declined.

So that, on that day, the boat did not push off, to the great displeasure of Master Land, who could not complete his provisions.

This adroit Canadian employed his time in preparing the viands and meat that he had brought off the island. As for the savages, they returned to the shore about eleven o’clock in the morning, as soon as the coral tops began to disappear under the rising tide; but I saw their numbers had increased considerably on the shore. Probably they came from the neighbouring islands, or very likely from Papua. However, I had not seen a single native canoe. Having nothing better to do, I thought of dragging these beautiful limpid waters, under which I saw a profusion of shells, zoophytes, and marine plants. Moreover, it was the last day that the Nautilus would pass in these parts, if it float in open sea the next day, according to Captain Nemo’s promise.

I therefore called Conseil, who brought me a little light drag, very like those for the oyster fishery. Now to work! For two hours we fished unceasingly, but without bringing up any rarities. The drag was filled with midas-ears, harps, melames, and particularly the most beautiful hammers I have ever seen. We also brought up some sea-slugs, pearl-oysters, and a dozen little turtles that were reserved for the pantry on board.

But just when I expected it least, I put my hand on a wonder, I might say a natural deformity, very rarely met with. Conseil was just dragging, and his net came up filled with divers ordinary shells, when, all at once, he saw me plunge my arm quickly into the net, to draw out a shell, and heard me utter a cry.

“What is the matter, sir?” he asked in surprise. “Has master been bitten?”

“No, my boy; but I would willingly have given a finger for my discovery.”

“What discovery?”

“This shell,” I said, holding up the object of my triumph.

“It is simply an olive porphyry, genus olive, order of the pectinibranchidæ, class of gasteropods, sub-class mollusca.”

“Yes, Conseil; but, instead of being rolled from right to left, this olive turns from left to right.”

“Is it possible?”

“Yes, my boy; it is a left shell.”

Shells are all right-handed, with rare exceptions; and, when by chance their spiral is left, amateurs are ready to pay their weight in gold.

Conseil and I were absorbed in the contemplation of our treasure, and I was promising myself to enrich the museum with it, when a stone unfortunately thrown by a native struck against, and broke, the precious object in Conseil’s hand. I uttered a cry of despair! Conseil took up his gun, and aimed at a savage who was poising his sling at ten yards from him. I would have stopped him, but his blow took effect and broke the bracelet of amulets which encircled the arm of the savage.

Conseil seized his gun

“Conseil!” cried I. “Conseil!”

“Well, sir! do you not see that the cannibal has commenced the attack?”

“A shell is not worth the life of a man,” said I.

“Ah! the scoundrel!” cried Conseil; “I would rather he had broken my shoulder!”

Conseil was in earnest, but I was not of his opinion. However, the situation had changed some minutes before, and we had not perceived. A score of canoes surrounded the Nautilus. These canoes, scooped out of the trunk of a tree, long, narrow, well adapted for speed, were balanced by means of a long bamboo pole, which floated on the water. They were managed by skilful, half-naked paddlers, and I watched their advance with some uneasiness. It was evident that these Papuans had already had dealings with the Europeans and knew their ships. But this long iron cylinder anchored in the bay, without masts or chimneys, what could they think of it? Nothing good, for at first they kept at a respectful distance. However, seeing it motionless, by degrees they took courage, and sought to familiarise themselves with it. Now this familiarity was precisely what it was necessary to avoid. Our arms, which were noiseless, could only produce a moderate effect on the savages, who have little respect for aught but blustering things. The thunderbolt without the reverberations of thunder would frighten man but little, though the danger lies in the lightning, not in the noise.

At this moment the canoes approached the Nautilus, and a shower of arrows alighted on her.

I went down to the saloon, but found no one there. I ventured to knock at the door that opened into the Captain’s room. “Come in,” was the answer.

I entered, and found Captain Nemo deep in algebraical calculations of x and other quantities.

“I am disturbing you,” said I, for courtesy’s sake.

“That is true, M. Aronnax,” replied the Captain; “but I think you have serious reasons for wishing to see me?”

“Very grave ones; the natives are surrounding us in their canoes, and in a few minutes we shall certainly be attacked by many hundreds of savages.”

“Ah!” said Captain Nemo quietly, “they are come with their canoes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, sir, we must close the hatches.”

“Exactly, and I came to say to you——”

“Nothing can be more simple,” said Captain Nemo. And, pressing an electric button, he transmitted an order to the ship’s crew.

“It is all done, sir,” said he, after some moments. “The pinnace is ready, and the hatches are closed. You do not fear, I imagine, that these gentlemen could stave in walls on which the balls of your frigate have had no effect?”

“No, Captain; but a danger still exists.”

“What is that, sir?”

“It is that to-morrow, at about this hour, we must open the hatches to renew the air of the Nautilus. Now, if, at this moment, the Papuans should occupy the platform, I do not see how you could prevent them from entering.”

“Then, sir, you suppose that they will board us?”

“I am certain of it.”

“Well, sir, let them come. I see no reason for hindering them. After all, these Papuans are poor creatures, and I am unwilling that my visit to the island should cost the life of a single one of these wretches.”

Upon that I was going away; But Captain Nemo detained me, and asked me to sit down by him. He questioned me with interest about our excursions on shore, and our hunting; and seemed not to understand the craving for meat that possessed the Canadian. Then the conversation turned on various subjects, and, without being more communicative, Captain Nemo showed himself more amiable.

Amongst other things, we happened to speak of the situation of the Nautilus, run aground in exactly the same spot in this strait where Dumont d’Urville was nearly lost. Apropos of this:

“This D’Urville was one of your great sailors,” said the Captain to me, “one of your most intelligent navigators. He is the Captain Cook of you Frenchmen. Unfortunate man of science, after having braved the icebergs of the South Pole, the coral reefs of Oceania, the cannibals of the Pacific, to perish miserably in a railway train! If this energetic man could have reflected during the last moments of his life, what must have been uppermost in his last thoughts, do you suppose?”

So speaking, Captain Nemo seemed moved, and his emotion gave me a better opinion of him. Then, chart in hand, we reviewed the travels of the French navigator, his voyages of circumnavigation, his double detention at the South Pole, which led to the discovery of Adelaide and Louis Philippe, and fixing the hydrographical bearings of the principal islands of Oceania.

“That which your D’Urville has done on the surface of the seas,” said Captain Nemo, “that have I done under them, and more easily, more completely than he. The Astrolabe and the Zelee, incessantly tossed about by the hurricane, could not be worth the Nautilus, quiet repository of labour that she is, truly motionless in the midst of the waters.

“To-morrow,” added the Captain, rising, “to-morrow, at twenty minutes to three p.m., the Nautilus shall float, and leave the Strait of Torres uninjured.”

Having curtly pronounced these words, Captain Nemo bowed slightly. This was to dismiss me, and I went back to my room.

There I found Conseil, who wished to know the result of my interview with the Captain.

“My boy,” said I, “when I feigned to believe that his Nautilus was threatened by the natives of Papua, the Captain answered me very sarcastically. I have but one thing to say to you: Have confidence in him, and go to sleep in peace.”

“Have you no need of my services, sir?”

“No, my friend. What is Ned Land doing?”

“If you will excuse me, sir,” answered Conseil, “friend Ned is busy making a kangaroo-pie which will be a marvel.”

I remained alone and went to bed, but slept indifferently. I heard the noise of the savages, who stamped on the platform, uttering deafening cries. The night passed thus, without disturbing the ordinary repose of the crew. The presence of these cannibals affected them no more than the soldiers of a masked battery care for the ants that crawl over its front.

At six in the morning I rose. The hatches had not been opened. The inner air was not renewed, but the reservoirs, filled ready for any emergency, were now resorted to, and discharged several cubic feet of oxygen into the exhausted atmosphere of the Nautilus.

I worked in my room till noon, without having seen Captain Nemo, even for an instant. On board no preparations for departure were visible.

I waited still some time, then went into the large saloon. The clock marked half-past two. In ten minutes it would be high-tide: and, if Captain Nemo had not made a rash promise, the Nautilus would be immediately detached. If not, many months would pass ere she could leave her bed of coral.

However, some warning vibrations began to be felt in the vessel. I heard the keel grating against the rough calcareous bottom of the coral reef.

At five-and-twenty minutes to three, Captain Nemo appeared in the saloon.

“We are going to start,” said he.

“Ah!” replied I.

“I have given the order to open the hatches.”

“And the Papuans?”

“The Papuans?” answered Captain Nemo, slightly shrugging his shoulders.

“Will they not come inside the Nautilus?”

“How?”

“Only by leaping over the hatches you have opened.”

“M. Aronnax,” quietly answered Captain Nemo, “they will not enter the hatches of the Nautilus in that way, even if they were open.”

I looked at the Captain.

“You do not understand?” said he.

“Hardly.”

“Well, come and you will see.”

I directed my steps towards the central staircase. There Ned Land and Conseil were slyly watching some of the ship’s crew, who were opening the hatches, while cries of rage and fearful vociferations resounded outside.

The port lids were pulled down outside. Twenty horrible faces appeared. But the first native who placed his hand on the stair-rail, struck from behind by some invisible force, I know not what, fled, uttering the most fearful cries and making the wildest contortions.

Ten of his companions followed him. They met with the same fate.

Conseil was in ecstasy. Ned Land, carried away by his violent instincts, rushed on to the staircase. But the moment he seized the rail with both hands, he, in his turn, was overthrown.

“I am struck by a thunderbolt,” cried he, with an oath.

This explained all. It was no rail; but a metallic cable charged with electricity from the deck communicating with the platform. Whoever touched it felt a powerful shock—and this shock would have been mortal if Captain Nemo had discharged into the conductor the whole force of the current. It might truly be said that between his assailants and himself he had stretched a network of electricity which none could pass with impunity.

Meanwhile, the exasperated Papuans had beaten a retreat paralysed with terror. As for us, half laughing, we consoled and rubbed the unfortunate Ned Land, who swore like one possessed.

But at this moment the Nautilus, raised by the last waves of the tide, quitted her coral bed exactly at the fortieth minute fixed by the Captain. Her screw swept the waters slowly and majestically. Her speed increased gradually, and, sailing on the surface of the ocean, she quitted safe and sound the dangerous passes of the Straits of Torres.

CHAPTER XXII “ÆGRI SOMNIA”

The following day 10th January, the Nautilus continued her course between two seas, but with such remarkable speed that I could not estimate it at less than thirty-five miles an hour. The rapidity of her screw was such that I could neither follow nor count its revolutions. When I reflected that this marvellous electric agent, after having afforded motion, heat, and light to the Nautilus, still protected her from outward attack, and transformed her into an ark of safety which no profane hand might touch without being thunderstricken, my admiration was unbounded, and from the structure it extended to the engineer who had called it into existence.

Our course was directed to the west, and on the 11th of January we doubled Cape Wessel, situation in 135° long. and 10° S. lat., which forms the east point of the Gulf of Carpentaria. The reefs were still numerous, but more equalised, and marked on the chart with extreme precision. The Nautilus easily avoided the breakers of Money to port and the Victoria reefs to starboard, placed at 130° long. and on the 10th parallel, which we strictly followed.

On the 13th of January, Captain Nemo arrived in the Sea of Timor, and recognised the island of that name in 122° long.

From this point the direction of the Nautilus inclined towards the south-west. Her head was set for the Indian Ocean. Where would the fancy of Captain Nemo carry us next? Would he return to the coast of Asia or would he approach again the shores of Europe? Improbable conjectures both, to a man who fled from inhabited continents. Then would he descend to the south? Was he going to double the Cape of Good Hope, then Cape Horn, and finally go as far as the Antarctic pole? Would he come back at last to the Pacific, where his Nautilus could sail free and independently? Time would show.

After having skirted the sands of Cartier, of Hibernia, Seringapatam, and Scott, last efforts of the solid against the liquid element, on the 14th of January we lost sight of land altogether. The speed of the Nautilus was considerably abated, and with irregular course she sometimes swam in the bosom of the waters, sometimes floated on their surface.

During this period of the voyage, Captain Nemo made some interesting experiments on the varied temperature of the sea, in different beds. Under ordinary conditions these observations are made by means of rather complicated instruments, and with somewhat doubtful results, by means of thermometrical sounding-leads, the glasses often breaking under the pressure of the water, or an apparatus grounded on the variations of the resistance of metals to the electric currents. Results so obtained could not be correctly calculated. On the contrary, Captain Nemo went himself to test the temperature in the depths of the sea, and his thermometer, placed in communication with the different sheets of water, gave him the required degree immediately and accurately.

It was thus that, either by overloading her reservoirs or by descending obliquely by means of her inclined planes, the Nautilus successively attained the depth of three, four, five, seven, nine, and ten thousand yards, and the definite result of this experience was that the sea preserved an average temperature of four degrees and a half at a depth of five thousand fathoms under all latitudes.

On the 16th of January, the Nautilus seemed becalmed only a few yards beneath the surface of the waves. Her electric apparatus remained inactive and her motionless screw left her to drift at the mercy of the currents. I supposed that the crew was occupied with interior repairs, rendered necessary by the violence of the mechanical movements of the machine.

My companions and I then witnessed a curious spectacle. The hatches of the saloon were open, and, as the beacon light of the Nautilus was not in action, a dim obscurity reigned in the midst of the waters. I observed the state of the sea, under these conditions, and the largest fish appeared to me no more than scarcely defined shadows, when the Nautilus found herself suddenly transported into full light. I thought at first that the beacon had been lighted, and was casting its electric radiance into the liquid mass. I was mistaken, and after a rapid survey perceived my error.

The Nautilus floated in the midst of a phosphorescent bed which, in this obscurity, became quite dazzling. It was produced by myriads of luminous animalculae, whose brilliancy was increased as they glided over the metallic hull of the vessel. I was surprised by lightning in the midst of these luminous sheets, as though they had been rivulets of lead melted in an ardent furnace or metallic masses brought to a white heat, so that, by force of contrast, certain portions of light appeared to cast a shade in the midst of the general ignition, from which all shade seemed banished. No; this was not the calm irradiation of our ordinary lightning. There was unusual life and vigour: this was truly living light!

In reality, it was an infinite agglomeration of coloured infusoria, of veritable globules of jelly, provided with a threadlike tentacle, and of which as many as twenty-five thousand have been counted in less than two cubic half-inches of water.

During several hours the Nautilus floated in these brilliant waves, and our admiration increased as we watched the marine monsters disporting themselves like salamanders. I saw there in the midst of this fire that burns not the swift and elegant porpoise (the indefatigable clown of the ocean), and some swordfish ten feet long, those prophetic heralds of the hurricane whose formidable sword would now and then strike the glass of the saloon. Then appeared the smaller fish, the balista, the leaping mackerel, wolf-thorn-tails, and a hundred others which striped the luminous atmosphere as they swam. This dazzling spectacle was enchanting! Perhaps some atmospheric condition increased the intensity of this phenomenon. Perhaps some storm agitated the surface of the waves. But at this depth of some yards, the Nautilus was unmoved by its fury and reposed peacefully in still water.

So we progressed, incessantly charmed by some new marvel. The days passed rapidly away, and I took no account of them. Ned, according to habit, tried to vary the diet on board. Like snails, we were fixed to our shells, and I declare it is easy to lead a snail’s life.

Thus this life seemed easy and natural, and we thought no longer of the life we led on land; but something happened to recall us to the strangeness of our situation.

On the 18th of January, the Nautilus was in 105° long. and 15° S. lat. The weather was threatening, the sea rough and rolling. There was a strong east wind. The barometer, which had been going down for some days, foreboded a coming storm. I went up on to the platform just as the second lieutenant was taking the measure of the horary angles, and waited, according to habit till the daily phrase was said. But on this day it was exchanged for another phrase not less incomprehensible. Almost directly, I saw Captain Nemo appear with a glass, looking towards the horizon.

For some minutes he was immovable, without taking his eye off the point of observation. Then he lowered his glass and exchanged a few words with his lieutenant. The latter seemed to be a victim to some emotion that he tried in vain to repress. Captain Nemo, having more command over himself, was cool. He seemed, too, to be making some objections to which the lieutenant replied by formal assurances. At least I concluded so by the difference of their tones and gestures. For myself, I had looked carefully in the direction indicated without seeing anything. The sky and water were lost in the clear line of the horizon.

However, Captain Nemo walked from one end of the platform to the other, without looking at me, perhaps without seeing me. His step was firm, but less regular than usual. He stopped sometimes, crossed his arms, and observed the sea. What could he be looking for on that immense expanse?

The Nautilus was then some hundreds of miles from the nearest coast.

The lieutenant had taken up the glass and examined the horizon steadfastly, going and coming, stamping his foot and showing more nervous agitation than his superior officer. Besides, this mystery must necessarily be solved, and before long; for, upon an order from Captain Nemo, the engine, increasing its propelling power, made the screw turn more rapidly.

Just then the lieutenant drew the Captain’s attention again. The latter stopped walking and directed his glass towards the place indicated. He looked long. I felt very much puzzled, and descended to the drawing-room, and took out an excellent telescope that I generally used. Then, leaning on the cage of the watch-light that jutted out from the front of the platform, set myself to look over all the line of the sky and sea.

But my eye was no sooner applied to the glass than it was quickly snatched out of my hands.

I turned round. Captain Nemo was before me, but I did not know him. His face was transfigured. His eyes flashed sullenly; his teeth were set; his stiff body, clenched fists, and head shrunk between his shoulders, betrayed the violent agitation that pervaded his whole frame. He did not move. My glass, fallen from his hands, had rolled at his feet.

Had I unwittingly provoked this fit of anger? Did this incomprehensible person imagine that I had discovered some forbidden secret? No; I was not the object of this hatred, for he was not looking at me; his eye was steadily fixed upon the impenetrable point of the horizon. At last Captain Nemo recovered himself. His agitation subsided. He addressed some words in a foreign language to his lieutenant, then turned to me. “M. Aronnax,” he said, in rather an imperious tone, “I require you to keep one of the conditions that bind you to me.”

“What is it, Captain?”

“You must be confined, with your companions, until I think fit to release you.”

“You are the master,” I replied, looking steadily at him. “But may I ask you one question?”

“None, sir.”

There was no resisting this imperious command, it would have been useless. I went down to the cabin occupied by Ned Land and Conseil, and told them the Captain’s determination. You may judge how this communication was received by the Canadian.

But there was not time for altercation. Four of the crew waited at the door, and conducted us to that cell where we had passed our first night on board the Nautilus.

Ned Land would have remonstrated, but the door was shut upon him.

“Will master tell me what this means?” asked Conseil.

I told my companions what had passed. They were as much astonished as I, and equally at a loss how to account for it.

Meanwhile, I was absorbed in my own reflections, and could think of nothing but the strange fear depicted in the Captain’s countenance. I was utterly at a loss to account for it, when my cogitations were disturbed by these words from Ned Land:

“Hallo! breakfast is ready.”

And indeed the table was laid. Evidently Captain Nemo had given this order at the same time that he had hastened the speed of the Nautilus.

“Will master permit me to make a recommendation?” asked Conseil.

“Yes, my boy.”

“Well, it is that master breakfasts. It is prudent, for we do not know what may happen.”

“You are right, Conseil.”

“Unfortunately,” said Ned Land, “they have only given us the ship’s fare.”

“Friend Ned,” asked Conseil, “what would you have said if the breakfast had been entirely forgotten?”

This argument cut short the harpooner’s recriminations.

We sat down to table. The meal was eaten in silence.

Just then the luminous globe that lighted the cell went out, and left us in total darkness. Ned Land was soon asleep, and what astonished me was that Conseil went off into a heavy slumber. I was thinking what could have caused his irresistible drowsiness, when I felt my brain becoming stupefied. In spite of my efforts to keep my eyes open, they would close. A painful suspicion seized me. Evidently soporific substances had been mixed with the food we had just taken. Imprisonment was not enough to conceal Captain Nemo’s projects from us, sleep was more necessary. I then heard the panels shut. The undulations of the sea, which caused a slight rolling motion, ceased. Had the Nautilus quitted the surface of the ocean? Had it gone back to the motionless bed of water? I tried to resist sleep. It was impossible. My breathing grew weak. I felt a mortal cold freeze my stiffened and half-paralysed limbs. My eye lids, like leaden caps, fell over my eyes. I could not raise them; a morbid sleep, full of hallucinations, bereft me of my being. Then the visions disappeared, and left me in complete insensibility.

[doomshroomed]

Have to drop some ask game questions for Domi!! Ewe is so sweet i love her sm <3

1. Are they from Sandrock? If not, where were they born? 3. Which city state would they most like to visit, and why? 6. What’s their opinion on the Church of the Light? 10. What’s their house like? Is it well decorated? Do they take pride in their home or let it get messy? 19. What’s their favourite season? 24. Free space! Feel free to ramble about anything regarding them you can think of :>

HI THANK YOU SO MUCH 🥺 i love these questions

1. Are they from Sandrock? If not, where were they born? Domi was born in Highwind! She follows the builder blueprint (hehe) pretty closely so she moved to Sandrock as a builder :)

3. Which city state would they most like to visit, and why? Tallsky! It sounds beautiful for starters but also Mi-an is from there… it’d love to visit her family someday.

6. What’s their opinion on the Church of the Light? Ewe’s pretty apathetic for the most part. On one hand ewe can understand the fear it stems from and the desire to stay away from the dangerous technology that brought about the downfall of the world centuries ago, but on the other hand it might not hurt to explore it in a safe way.

10. What’s their house like? Is it well decorated? Do they take pride in their home or let it get messy? (ok ingame her house is a bit all over the place bc im lazy so im just going to answer this how it Would be in an ideal world <3) It’s fairly minimalistic and simple but with cute ornaments strewn about! She treasures any and all gifts and loves to decorate with them. Things do tend to get a little messy as she’s always busy and often forgets to take care of herself, nevermind her home, but it’s a well-loved space.

19. What’s their favourite season? Spring! It doesn’t do well in the freezing cold but summer is too hot for it (especially summer in Sandrock). Sandrock’s spring is a nice temperature :) 

24. Free space! Feel free to ramble about anything regarding them you can think of :> (typing this after i answered I kinda just rattled off some fun facts/elaborated on things i stuck on her builder sheet but >:) hehe THANK U..)

Domi frequents Fang’s clinic as ewe suffers from bad stress headaches. It’s something that ewe just has to live with and ewe refuses to let it get in the way of ewe’s job. Ewe always has ibuprofen on hand incase a headache hits while ewe’s out and about.

She has autism (bc i also have autism so all my ocs are autistic by default <3) and goes nonverbal occasionally! It’s usually brought on by dealing with too many people at once but sometimes it just happens. She tries to avoid people in order to let herself recharge but if she has to run errands she’ll bring a notepad and pen with her so she can write to talk :) Her Sandrock pals are all used to this (especially fang you cannot tell me that man does not have autism and doesnt also go nonverbal. he totally gets it) and are accommodating!

It writes poetry in the evening to wind down before it sleeps. It’s shy about sharing it with anyone but it’s written Mi-an, Nia and Heidi love letters with poetry in them so they’ve seen them :)

Speaking of women. I know we don’t have Nia in Sandrock yet but Domi’s endgame is polydating Mi-an, Nia and Heidi! Mi-an and Nia live with ewe and are also dating each other (i think they’d be cute) while Domi is dating Heidi by herself :) I also know this won’t be possible ingame but I’m quietly hoping someone makes a polymod 🤞

Domi’s Nemo is named Muffin! She also has a Palomino horse named Vanilla and a white horse named Marshmallow (i think i had to name it smth like mallow ingame bc marshmallow wouldnt fit but its meant to be called marshmallow hehe). I would really like her to have a goat as well…pwease Pathea🥺

It’s weirdly lucky and the four leaf clover necklace is one of its most treasured accessories!

Domi and Nia had a mutual crush on each other for years but never addressed it until Domi moved to Sandrock and realised just how much ewe missed her. Ewe then fell in love with Mi-an and Heidi too and things got confusing but everything was discussed and they’re cool with ewe being poly <3 Mi-an also fell in love with Nia so she got Two !!! girlfriends #lovewins

Domi looooooooooves Logan (platonically. she is a lesbian) they’re besties and really close. When he asked her to take care of Andy she practically adopted the little guy (she loves andy a lot too btw).  I don’t have anything else to add yet since he’s not in town but it felt important to mention

[baenxietydad]

Moon And Sand || Baes + Robbie

@justkeepdancing-nemo @robbie-ryeo

Date: Sometime early January

Marlin and Robbie have a very awkward interaction lol

MARLIN:

  A couple days before Nemo moved back into the dorms, they had a couple errands to run so he thought they’d start at Hatter’s with tea, a snack, and the to-do list. Mu-yeol clicked his pen a couple times before finally getting ready to write.

  “Okay, so.” Mu-yeol began. “What did we come to town for? I forget. I know we had to go to the market but for what? I’m getting old.”

  He wasn’t, not for a fairy anyway. But he was always tired.

  And maybe he did forget, or maybe he was hoping to kill another five minutes in Hatter’s for no reason at all.

  NEMO: 

Nemo had dreaded coming out. Errands meant that he was going back to school soon. School meant– well, Nemo didn’t know. His head hurt thinking about it, even if he knew he needed to get used to it and not be a coward this time.

  So he very much was fine with stalling in Hatter’s for now, blowing a little on his hot cocoa. “Uh, you wanted to go by the market for tupperware…” Nemo mentioned. Appa was determined to send Nemo to school with a tonne of extra meals, convinced that his diet had been one of many factors that contributed to his embarrassing meltdown.

  His eyes flicked up at that moment and spotted someone coming through the door. “Robbie!” he blurted, without even thinking about it. It was instinct. Like a sneeze. 

  MARLIN:

  The neutral facial expression was expected from Mu-yeol. So was calmly sipping his tea. There were also lots of other things that maybe could be expected.

  An eye roll, a scoff, a ‘Nam-min, what are you doing?’ among other things, none of which happened.

  Instead, he set his tea down and very casually said, “Oh, that’s fortunate actually.”

  He turned around in his seat, following Nemo’s eyes, and said while beckoning Robbie over with his palm facing down, “야 Robbie, 이리와, 빨리.” (Ya i-ri-wa, ppal-li.)

  NEMO: 

His eyes widened. What?! What was Appa doing?! Nemo had been a blink away for apologizing but now–?!

  “Appa–” Nemo hissed. He glanced at Robbie and actually tried to shoo him away, even as Marlin beckoned him forward. 

  ROBBIE:

Um. 

  Robbie hadn’t actually expected to see Nemo in Hatters today, which normally would be a very pleasant surprise. Robbie obviously loved seeing Nemo and he smiled big and bright at first when Nemo called his name. Then Robbie realized that Nemo wasn’t alone and Marlin was with him. 

  Marlin, who was calling out to him and telling him to come quickly. Cue Robbie’s nervous laughter as he raised his hand in greeting and made his way over to the table. The whole Marlin situation was…delicate to say the least, and Robbie didn’t want to make anything worse by ignoring him or being rude! That’s why, despite Nemo’s shooing, he still sat down at the table. 

  “안녕하세요,” Robbie said respectfully, dipping his head in a tiny little bow. 

  MARLIN:

  “안녕,” Marlin returned the greeting, ever so slightly nodding his head to him. 

  There was a brief silence, no longer than four or five seconds, as Robbie settled into his seat. Mu-yeol ignored Nemo’s slightly agape jaw and looked directly at Robbie. 

  “I realize I neglected to thank you the other day for helping with Nam-min. I intended to but you can imagine I had a one-track dad mind.” He began in Korean. “So, thank you very much for telling me and everything. 고마워, and I apologize for not thanking you that day.”

  NEMO: 

  What was about to happen?! 

  It could be anything. For a long time Appa and Robbie existed in separate spheres of Nemo's life, which maybe wouldn't be all that weird if they also didn't pretend the other didn't exist. Robbie wasn't as bad as Appa. Robbie did ask about Marlin sometimes, or well, sometimes Nemo talked to Robbie about his abeoji… because how could he not? But with Appa, the rule didn't need to be spoken: don't talk about Robbie. Don't expect Appa to talk about him either. Nemo thought this was stupid and Appa too stubborn, but it was better than being at war. So he followed the rule.

  Now Appa broke the rule.

  Terrible visions of an all-out screaming match passed through Nemo's mind. He sat rigid, terrified. If this went bad, what would he do? Defend Robbie? Usher Appa out? Create a diversion? 

  He definitely didn't expect Appa to thank him. 

  Nemo blinked several times, but was too shocked to do anything more than that. His eyes darted from father to boyfriend in a dizzying mental game of ping pong. 

  ROBBIE:

Robbie wasn't really sure what he was supposed to do or say. This seemed like a normal interaction, one that could happen to anyone, but there were layers. So many layers and those layers weighed on him. 

  Marlin hated Robbie. That was the first layer and also the hardest one to forget because, in a lot of ways, it was the exact reason they were here in the first place. Marlin hating Robbie had affected his and Nemo’s relationship–they were driven closer together, loved harder, felt things more fiercely in the face of his father's disapproval. Marlin's hatred was a fact. 

  But then there was the second layer: Robbie wasn't a vampire anymore, the thing that Marlin hated the most, so he wasn't sure where that left them. He knew Marlin still didn't like him, didn't think he was good for Nemo, but Robbie felt that way about Marlin too. 

  A thing that should be simple, Marlin thanking Robbie, was buried underneath so many hard feelings that the moment was hard to extricate. 

  But Robbie had to try. 

  For Nemo.

  "You're welcome," Robbie said. "Anything to help Nemo, of course." ”

  MARLIN:

  Mu-yeol shook his head ever so slightly, a silent signal that, no no, that wasn’t entirely it. It was most of the reason Robbie did what he did, but not all of it. Robbie was mature in ways that Tae and Nemo simply weren’t yet and it made him think harder about things. 

  “I know being responsible and looking out for someone isn’t always easy, because sometimes you have to do something that might upset them for a moment to ultimately do what’s best.” He sympathized. “I really appreciate you making the choice that was about looking out for him, even if narcing on him to his dad might not have felt right.”

  ROBBIE:

Robbie was maybe a little bit tempted to remind Marlin that he probably knew a little bit more about protecting people and doing things others might not like simply because he'd been alive a lot longer than Marlin, but he knew Marlin really was just a grateful father and it was easy to forget that Robbie was actually over 300 years old. 

  "It was the right thing to do," he said and then looked at Nemo. "I'm sorry I upset you, Nemo, but I'm really glad you're okay." He reached over and squeezed his boyfriend's hand. 

  MARLIN:

  Mu-yeol sipped his tea and snorted, rolling his eyes in that way he does when Nemo roasts him accurately or something. 

  “He was over being mad in five minutes, I promise.” He said, glancing at Nemo. “We were able to work out a plan in time to keep him in school, which is what he wanted, thanks to you.”

  He nodded in Robbie’s direction. “And I’m very grateful, again.”

  NEMO: 

What was worse? Appa and Robbie hating each other?? Or uh– whatever this was?

Nemo couldn’t decide. Whatever this was, though, was a very specific type of humiliating. They were basically talking like he wasn’t even there! Nemo shrank in his seat a little as his ears went red. This was just so weird and embarrassing. Yah, Appa should have just– well- called Robbie or something! Why did they have to do this in front of him?

But he didn’t dare complain either. He’d wanted something like this for a long time. Just, y’know – a civil conversation.

Once again, his eyes darted between Robbie and Marlin. Appa’s final comment, though, irritated him too much to stay quiet (wasn’t that just the way with fathers?) “Um, I’m here too y’know, I can talk for myself,” Nemo broke in. “Robbie knows I’m not mad at him anymore.” 

  MARLIN:

  “I’m just assuring him you weren’t too upset about it,” Mu-yeol said, patting Nemo’s hand. “But you’re right, sorry.”

  He…didn’t think about this interaction past thanking Robbie actually. And telling him ‘go away now’ would just be rude, though he very much did not want to continue this interaction since he’d just unintentionally pissed Nemo off in front of Robbie, who surely hated him and thought he was a terrible father. 

  I can speak for myself Aiya Nemo why did you say it like that? As if he was actively not letting you speak and hadn’t just misstepped in reassuring your boyfriend that he hadn’t committed a grave offense. 

  Anyway. He smiled politely and, in an attempt to escape this situation that he was very aware he had started by calling Robbie over, pushed his tea aside. 

  “I’ll get out of here.” He sighed, lightly slapping the table. “You don’t need to run errands with me Nam-min if you don’t want.”

  NEMO: 

What? Now Appa was leaving?? What?

Well, Nemo didn’t really know what was going on, but he did think that was bad. Agh, he should’ve just shut up! Who cared about his pride? What if this never happened again?!

“No!” Nemo blurted quickly. “I mean! Finish your tea, Appa. Robbie, you can, um, you can join us, right? If you want, I mean, just for a little.” 

  MARLIN:

  Daebak. He was turning Nemo loose to hangout with his boyfriend and he was rejecting it? Wild stuff. Okay then…

  “Ah, I suppose you’re right, I did pay for this one.” Not that Mr. Hatter was unreasonable, but you know, you shouldn't waste something you pay for. 

  Sooooo…what now?

  ROBBIE:

Robbie didn’t really want to stay, if he was being honest, although it was a complicated situation and spending time with Nemo was always usually a wonderful way to spend his time. It was just that Marlin made him exceedingly uncomfortable. Especially this new, “Pro-Robbie” Marlin. He couldn’t help but wonder if there were some sort of ulterior motives behind Marlin’s actions, although that was probably a little more the distrusting 300-year-old vampire in him that felt that way. 

  He wasn’t exactly that person anymore, so he hesitated and then nodded. 

  “Ah, yes, I’d um–I’d love to stay,” he said with a smile. “Just for a bit, though, like you said. I don’t want to derail father-son time.”

  NEMO:

Nemo also wasn’t sure if this was a good idea, but it was the only chance he might ever have to, hopefully, smooth things over with Appa and Robbie. He didn’t think they’d be friends. There was too much bad stuff between them. But if they could just get to the point of… having a conversation? If Nemo could mention Robbie to Appa without Appa acting like Nemo was committing some great, terrible sin by staying with him? He’d consider it a win. 

  It was all up to Nemo though. The pressure fell on his shoulders, heavy as rocks. He swallowed and searched his brain for something for both Robbie and Appa to talk about. 

  “Um, great! So ah, you um, come in here to study or something?” Nemo started here. “Appa, Robbie wants to be a veterinarian. Isn’t that nice?” 

  MARLIN:

  “Ah, it’s not really— we’re not — errands aren’t anything special. I’m sure he’d rather be still asleep.”

  Marlin bit back the knee-jerk instinct to say ‘no money in that,’ even if it was true. There wasn’t much money in professional dance either, not unless you got to star choreographer level, and yet he was financing his son’s dream of that. 

  “That’ll be nice.” Mu-yeol said. What was he supposed to say? He wanted out of this situation. “If he came to study, why don’t you help him?”

  The let me get out of here was tacitly encouraged, though his expression and mannerisms remained calm. Cool. A little too chill. 

  He sipped at his tea and, reluctantly, said something else. “How many years of school left?” There. Fine. He did Nemo, he asked a question. 

  ROBBIE:

  Robbie frowned, just a bit, at Marlin’s attempt to get out of spending time with his son. It was clear Nemo still wanted to spend time with him and here Marlin was trying to get Nemo to stay in the coffee shop with Robbie. Either that or it was a dig at Nemo not studying, in which case Robbie wanted to tear his head off, but he suppressed that particular thought. Ha. 

  The question Marlin asked caught Robbie off-guard and he blinked. He’d been so lost in his thoughts. “Oh, um, like four still. Probably. I mean, I want to do it the right way, actually go through all of the courses even if I know a lot of it. Plus there really is so much I don’t know yet. Animals were never something that I studied much, even though I’ve always loved them.” 

  NEMO:

“He’s good with them too,” Nemo chimed in.

  Maybe that hadn’t always been true. As a vampire, Robbie naturally frightened off many animals who could sense that he was a powerful predator. But even then, he’d been gentle with Lovely, and Lovely had quickly trusted Robbie. Now, he was quite the happy little hamster and always squeaked and purred. And Robbie also got on well with all the animals at Ruff to Fluff–

  Daebak. Did Marlin know Robbie worked there now? Nemo had no idea. Probably not, considering the unspoken don’t-talk-about-Robbie rule.

  “He um, he even started working at Ruff to Fluff. So he’s getting lots of practice with animals. I’m sure he’ll be great.” Nemo flashed a smile at Robbie and squeezed his hand again– under the table.

  MARLIN:

  “I’d hope you’re good with them. You’ll probably get bitten at least thirty percent less if you’ve actually got a way with animals.” Mu-yeol said, sticking with easy, inoffensive small talk. 

  He didn’t comment on him working with Nemo which was a tacit approval. 

  “Does pride u have a vet program? Or do you have to look at other vet schools?”

  ROBBIE:

"Pride U has a vet program which is great because I was already an established student. I also really like Pride U and Swynlake and I'm glad I don't have to go anywhere else." 

  Robbie looked at Marlin and then back at Nemo, fidgeting. He hoped he was doing okay. Was he passing the dad test? He hated this. 

  NEMO:

This was awkward. This was uncomfortable. He knew that Robbie and Appa both didn’t want to be having this conversation and Nemo forced it on them.

  Despite all of this, Nemo thought it was going well. Sure, it was stilted! But it was better than ignoring the other’s existence! 

  So Nemo smiled. “Yeah, and there’s even the special clinic for magical creatures! I dunno if Robbie will do anything with that but– it’s pretty cool. I bet Pride U’s the only school in England with something like that.” 

  MARLIN:

  He was not even administering the dad test yet, actually. Thanking him was an olive branch and this conversation stood in place of a proper introduction. The dad test was something for later, closer to if and when he actually decided Robbie was, say, welcome to celebrate Chuseok with them. This tense conversation was simply a knee-deep wade in the water for Nemo’s benefit.

  Mu-yeol wasn’t sure if Nemo so blatantly selling him made this more or less awkward.

  “Can’t imagine one anywhere else,” Mu-yeol said. “Have you thought about where you might want to start practicing, if not here? Years away, but. Always smart to look into areas where vet practitioners are needed.”

  ROBBIE:

“With the forest being so close to here, I always sort of assumed I’d stay in Swynlake, or somewhere near here. The Inn is my home–has been my home for awhile and leaving it isn’t really something I’d want to do. There are plenty of opportunities around here, which is nice. So many animals I can help. I think it’s that way everywhere, though, so really if I changed my mind it wouldn’t be too hard to find somewhere that needed a vet. 

  Robbie looked down at his hands and then back up at Marlin. “My goal is to help as many animals as possible. I guess it doesn’t really matter where I go.” 

  MARLIN:

  Perhaps as a fairy he should find this endearing. ‘I just want to help animals’ should strike all sorts of chords with him. It was sweet, and admirable, but nothing more than ‘that’s nice’ came to his mind. He had to admit it was a lovely goal to have, and knew he should, as a fairy, be impressed. 

  Mu-yeol recognized this as coming not from a place of distaste for Robbie’s ambitions — they were perfectly fine — but from the same place as  his own father’s ambivalence to So-yeon’s goals, and Bae Tae-il had adored his daughter-in-law. Mu-yeol was hardened the way his father was, where lofty, sugar-sweet dreams like ‘I want to save the environment’ and ‘I just want to take care of animals’ came across as idealistic and trite. 

  He supposed it was better than Robbie having no direction at all; no, he knew it was much better. And to his credit, it was achievable. Unlike the ambitions So-yeon had that he fell in love with. Animals wanted to be helped. Humans did not want to take care of their planet. 

  “That’s nice,” was still all he said. He didn’t know what else to say to that. But he did smile. 

  NEMO:

“Yeah!” Nemo said, more enthusiastically which was in part for Robbie–well, mostly for him– but for Appa too.

  After all, he noticed Appa’s smile. Even if it was just polite and forced, Nemo wanted to encourage it. If he was happy and bright, maybe Appa would finally see that Robbie was good for him. And he really was, on paper. He was smart, he was diligent, he got amazing grades and worked hard. He could teach Nemo good study habits! (Well, he could try. Nemo wasn’t sure there was anything Robbie could do for his windswept brain.)

  “It’s really hard stuff, honestly, but Robbie’s smart so he can do it,” mentioned Nemo. He wasn’t sure what else to say now… he needed to transition into another topic, probably, since Appa and Robbie were so painfully awkward with each other… 

  “We um, still practice Hangul,” was what he came up with. Welp. Better than nothing. 

  ROBBIE:

  That’s nice. 

  Robbie almost wanted to laugh. It was nice, wasn’t it? Him wanting to help animals. So why did it make his stomach churn just a little when Marlin said it? Probably because Marlin still didn’t like him, despite how hard he was trying to seem like maybe he did. Or maybe Robbie wasn’t being fair. Maybe it was Robbie who was seeing the worst in Marlin when it wasn’t really there. Either way, Robbie was trying very hard not to seem annoyed or offended so he smiled. 

  “We do,” Robbie said. “Nemo is doing great. Pretty soon he’ll be writing in Korean for everything.” 

  MARLIN:

  “I’m glad someone eventually convinced him to learn Hangul.” Mu-yeol said, even if it had hurt a little that Nemo was never interested in it before Robbie. He tried so hard to give his son their language, culture, and history despite living abroad, but teaching Nemo to read and write in Korean was an uphill battle that he gave up on early on.

  If he really fought Nemo on it, he could have made him. Just like he required Nemo to speak to him in Korean at home and tried to encourage it in public, he could have imposed mandatory hangul practice. But with how much Nemo protested he worried that Nemo would reject their language fully if he made too big a deal out of it.

  He didn’t want Nemo to associate Korean with punishment or consider it a chore. He’d rather his son not be able to read in Korean but speak it well with his father, than struggle to communicate with his son fully because he refused to use a language imposed on him. No matter how fluent Mu-yeol was in English, it was much easier for him to talk about important topics in their native language, and the thought of losing that connection with Nam-min…yes, giving up on Hangul was worth it.

  “Though, we don’t really use written language in pixie hollows, so I get why when he was six he was like ‘how about no.’  I’m very impressed with his progress in so little time, thank you, Robbie.” He turned to Nemo and smiled. “Your handwriting has gotten really nice, pretty much as neat as your English handwriting. And good with your double consonants now, Appa’s very proud.”

  This…this was finally feeling bearable. Talking about Korean things, he could do this easily. 

  NEMO:

Hey, Nemo would take it. Even if there was what Nemo felt was a hint of passive-aggressiveness in Appa’s tone. At least that passive-aggressiveness was toward Nemo and not Robbie, and maybe Nemo even deserved it. He could look back at his childhood and regret his own reluctance to practice his Korean. All the reasons he had then had been selfish– worse, they’d been reasons rooted in shame. And Nemo wasn’t ashamed of being Korean or anything, it was just…well, he’d already been so different as a kid, since he wasn’t born in Enchantra and his whole wing thing and he didn’t even have two parents like most seedlings and and and…

Whatever. He squirmed, swallowed down his embarrassment, and took it. At least he was fixing things now. 

  “Thanks. Um, Robbie’s a real good teacher,” mentioned Nemo. 

  ROBBIE:

Robbie wasn’t sure it was his teaching so much as it was that he wasn’t Marlin. Sometimes it was easier to be interested in things if your peers were the ones talking about it than when it was your parents. So Robbie definitely had that on his side. Plus, “I try, but it helps that you’re interested and you put in the effort. It also helps that I have a lot of practice too,” he added. 

  Robbie wanted to say that when you do something for 300 plus years you end up rather proficient, but he figured maybe that kind of comment wouldn’t go over so well. 

  Still he really wanted to say it. 

  He didn’t. 

  MARLIN:

  Mu-yeol didn’t know how to keep this conversation…safe. It was awkward. He was awkward. Robbie was awkward. Nemo was awkward. 

  Aish couldn’t he just thank Robbie and do interacting later? No. All right, ask something, come on Mu-yeol. 

  “Nam-min. If Robbie isn’t busy today I can go to the market myself. You can stay with him if you’d rather.” He said instead. His gaze only briefly landed on Robbie but it was disinterested at worst rather than poison. “But if you came to study Robbie I’ll —“ he clicked his tongue and mimed removing the Nemo distraction. 

  ROBBIE: 

  Robbie didn't want to interrupt Nemo and Marlin’s day any more than he already had. He actually hated it, to be honest, because Marlin made him feel so awkward and uncomfortable. That was definitely something he would need to work on in the future, but not today.

  Plus, Marlin had already tried to leave once and Nemo had said not to go. He clearly didn't want to ditch his father for Robbie, nor should he, and really the only thing to do was bow out gracefully. Take the pressure off of Nemo instead of piling it on. 

  "Oh, you guys already had plans," Robbie said with a smile. "It was really nice having tea with you, but I really do have a few things I need to go do." He turned and looked at Nemo, "We should hang out later, though, if you want."

  Then he looked at Marlin. "It was nice talking to you." 

  MARLIN:

  Mu-yeol nodded and politely ever so slightly bowed his head at Robbie as he got ready to leave. Nice was a generous way of describing it, it had been painfully awkward, but it was…fine. And you know, ‘fine’ for them was the same as nice. It was practically rainbows and butterflies.

  “어 (eo),” Mu-yeol said, figuring it was good to agree it was nice. “Thank you for having tea with us.”

  There. He was nice, welcoming even, no matter how…cautious. Nemo would appreciate that, right?

  He cast a furtive glance over at Nemo right before he finished off his tea.

  NEMO:

Nemo was relieved that he didn’t have to choose – Robbie removed that pressure from him.

  Because no matter what, he felt like there weren’t have been a right choice, right? If he stayed with Appa, Appa would insist he went with Robbie, and if he stayed with Robbie, Robbie might insist he go with Appa. It was dumb. There shouldn’t be all these unseen pressures, all these put-on manners. Wistfully, Nemo imagined what it might have been like if several years ago, Marlin hadn’t turned so quickly on Robbie. If they had started to heal earlier. Maybe running into each other would have been easy, even natural.

  At least things were healing now though, right? Better late than never. Nemo should stay optimistic.

  And so he just smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll text you! C’mon Appa, the market calls,” he joked, also getting up.

  And with a wave at Robbie, the Baes left Hatter’s.