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Nimona was about 5 years old when she realized she was being told the biggest lie of her life.
The little shark was running around the house one morning, dawning her favoutite overalls and ponytail. She was busy playing Sea Explorers with Toothie while her Daddy was busy doing the laundry.
Her Papa was out working at the giant school he teaches at, which is weird because Nimona thought that teachers lived at school only, but her Papa is special because Nimona is special cuz he said he comes home every day just for her!
And Daddy and Toothie too, of course.
Anyhow, the pinkish redhead was just about to dive into the deep crevasses of the longest cave in the most deepest parts of the ocean- a.k.a. the couch cushions- when suddenly the doorbell rang.
Nimona looked at the door, holding Toothie close to her chest.
“Daddy!” She yells, loud and unsure, not taking her eyes from the door. “Someone at the door!”
“Okay, baby! I’m coming! Her Daddy yells back from somewhere in the house, probably where he makes all the pretty clothes for her and other people.
At first Nimona was gonna wait for him, seeing as there might be a stranger at the door, but when the child noticed the outline of The Mail Man standing at their door she began to growl.
‘Enemy!’
Nimona doesn’t know why, but her Papa didn’t really like The Mail Man- something about how the packages in his name were always damaged somehow and the way he would always be staring at her Daddy even when Papa was around- but! If Papa doesn’t like this mail man, then neither does Nimona!
Daddy hasn’t stopped her or Papa yet either so he must agree with them too.
Nimona made a promise to her Papa that she’d hold down the fort while he was gone at the big school, and that meant protecting Daddy along with Toothie from enemies!
Bravely Nimona marched over to the door and swung it open as far as her arm would go. There, standing in front of her, was The Mail Man, her enemy.
The little kid growled at the man who for a second looked around for who opened the door before he turned his gaze down to her glaring one.
Then! He had the nerve to smile at her!
He should be scared! She bites! That jerk kid in her class certainly found out how hard she could! This guy’ll find out too if he doesn’t skedaddle from her home!
“Hey there, sweetheart!” He said, in the gross nice voice Nimona’s teacher uses sometimes when she was too tired to be actually nice to them. “Could you help me? I was wondering if an,” the man pretended to look at the package, “Ambrosius lives here?”
‘Ambro-zeeus? He must be as much of a dumby as Papa says because he’s got the wrong house.’
“Nope!” Nimona answered, happily popping the ‘P’ as she slammed the door in The Mail Man’s face.
“Wait-”
With a loud slam and click the door shut and the little reddish pinkhead proudly dusted off her hands as she made her way back into the living room just when her Daddy came in with his cane.
“Don’ worry Daddy, me and Toothie took care of that old jerk!”
Her Daddy gave Nimona a worried look, which had her smiling wider. “... Nim, baby, I’m scared to ask what you mean by that.”
Nimona puffed out her chest as she told the older man all about her bravery.
Apparently, her Daddy didn’t find it as epic as she did.
“Nimona Amias Blackheart! We have talked about this! You do not open the front door if Daddy or Papa aren’t there with you! What if something happened?”
Nimona waved her hand at her Daddy with a loud ‘Psshhh’, like how she sees him doing with Papa sometimes. “Notin’ happend. He’s reeaaaallly a dumby Daddy! He said a ‘Mbrozeeus’ person lived here! But that’s wrong!”
Now her Daddy was giving her a weird look.
He was covering his mouth, like he did when he was trying not to laugh and had one of his eyebrows raised- the one of his left side which pulled his scars a bit- when he suddenly snorted out. “You mean Ambrosius?”
Nimona nodded slowly, crossing her arms with a pout when the older man began to silently laugh into his palm.
“Nim, my Little Shark, That’s me.”
... Huh?
“Huh?” Nimona tilted her head, making sure to tilt her little shark friends head too.
“Ambrosius Blackheart, that’s my name, sweety.”
Nimona, baffled by this, stared up at her Daddy with her jaw dropped, feeling outraged. Her Daddy’s face fell a little the longer the little kid stared, and he placed a hand on his hip, confused.
“What- ?”
“YOUR NAME’S NOT DADDY?!”
-
Ballister came home feeling a little worn down from the day.
Working as a professor at the University of the Realm was not an easy feat. It was a lot of long days, and many long nights.
And it wasn’t even the students that really had him wanting to pull his hair out.
... Okay, so his students did play a bit of role in it.
But mostly it was his colleagues and other teachers in the different departments.
It’s just-
They were just so-
Ugh- Whatever- now wasn’t the time for this.
All Ballister wanted to do right now was fall onto the old, comfortable couch in their living room, hopefully get a kiss from his husband, and a hug from his daughter. Then, he was going to hold his husband close to him that night, and bitch to him about them.
Ambrosius listens well to his tales, of course, but he also mostly loves the drama that goes down in the teacher’s lounge from time to time.
As Ballister entered the house he was hit with a feeling that something was up.
“Amber? Nim?” Ballister called out as he took off his shoes.
For a bit nothing could be heard, and the ravenette could feel himself grow anxious with the silence. It was a familiar sensation in his chest, something tight and suffocating-
“-Hello? Ambrosius? Nimona? Are you two in?”
“Kitchen, Balli!”
Ballister tried to calmly make his way over to their kitchen, though even he could admit he rushed a little, and let out a quite sigh of relief when he saw his lover standing at the stove finishing up dinner.
Even after all these years...
Ambrosius was humming to the tune of this new cheesy pop song that just came out, which explains why he didn’t hear Ballister call out to him the first time. when Ballister was done taking off his coat and loosened his belt he came up behind his husband and wrapped his arms around his waist. Ambrosius laughed softly when Ballister pressed his face against the blonde’s shoulder, burying his face in golden, floral smelling locks and taking a deep, soothing breath.
“Lovely to see you too. Long day?”
"Like you wouldn’t believe, my love.”
Ambrosius chuckled and turned off the stove before he slowly turned around in Ballister’s arms, both of them careful of each other. They simply stared at the other for a moment, Ambrosius wrapping his arms around Ballister’s shoulder. The ravenette stood transfixed, examining the beautiful miss-matched eyes of his lover meticulously, as if he hadn’t done so over a hundred times over.
They both leaned in, meeting halfway for a sweet kiss.
It was short, and their noses pressed together uncomfortably, but they came back to each other three more times after, pressing their foreheads against one another.
Both men quietly enjoyed their presence together, soaking up the warmth they provided for one another and whispering softly to each other “remember to rest your hip” and “don’t forget to take this off, babe, you’ll hurt yourself again.”
“And Nimona?” Ballister whispered to him.
He was surprised to hear his husband snort, his face scrunching up cutely as they let the other go. He turned back to the stove, checking on the food.
"Uhm, our dear Little Shark might be a smidge upset at the moment.”
“Oh no,” Ballister sighed, leaning against the counter next to his love, “what happened?”
Ambrosius looked at him with a smirk. “Weeelll...”
Afterwards Ambrosius went on to explain the situation and what happened that day, and Ballister doesn’t know didn’t know if he should laugh or be upset at the prospect of the mail man coming over to deliver mail that-
"-Wasn’t even in my name, turns out it was for someone named ‘Dorris’. Can you believe it?”
“I can believe someone finding you gorgeous, my love, I have no doubt in that,” Ballister said, furiously typing something on his phone, “what I can’t believe is the audacity of that little-”
“-Anyway, Nimona’s been a bit out of sorts after finding out the ‘truth’ is all. In fact, she seems rather miffed about it all.”
Ballister placed his phone down on the kitchen table and turned his gaze upstairs to where his daughter was undoubtedly in her room right now, underneath her blanket and ranting to Toothie.
‘I’ll have to talk to her about door safety again soon, for now though...’
"... You think I should…?”
A soft hand caressed his left cheek as a warm kiss was placed on the other, and when Ambrosius pulled back he gave him an encouraging smile. “I think she’d appreciate it.”
-
In a salmon-pink painted room, where glow in the dark stickers decorated the ceilings and walls, a little bump underneath a huge blanket on a bed that sat in the middle of the room could be heard mumbling and moving around.
It was honestly exactly where Ballister was expecting to find her.
Quietly he entered the room, careful of all of the toys scattered around the child’s floor. When he made it to the bed he slowly sat down at the edge, which caused the bed to creak and the figure under the blanket to go still.
"... Nimona.”
The little lump of blanket huffed, curling up further into a makeshift sweet roll.
Ballister laughed and reached over to the pink, fluffy fabric, picking it up with ease with his flesh arm and pulling it into his lap. “Nimona.”
“Nimona’s not here.” The little lump spoke.
“Oh really? Then with whom do I have the honor of speaking with?”
A little shark’s head poked out of the blanket, now with angry eyebrows drawn on. “Me!”
“Hello Toothie,” Ballister greeted the stuffie, “it’s nice to see you again. Do you think I can speak to Nimona soon?”
The little shark stuffy stayed quiet for a moment, contemplating. “... you gotta answer a question first.”
“Alrighty then, fair enough.” Ballister leaned a little back on the bed, getting ready for what looked like it was going to be a long talk. “Go ahead then.”
“... What’s your name?”
‘Ah, yup, saw this one coming.’
“... My name is Ballister Karim Blackheart.”
Suddenly Nimona struggled her way out of the blankets, Ballister had to put his hands out to be sure that she didn’t fall until finally the child managed to shove herself out of the blankets, looking at her Papa with outrage on her face. “WHY?!”
Now Ballister didn’t mean to laugh, but the genuine shock and bewilderment on his daughter’s face had him throwing his head back, especially when she began pouting, crossing her arms like she usually did.
“B- Because that’s the name I was given?”
Nimona looked away, thinking hard about something. “... So you’re real life name isn’t Papa?”
Ballister shook his head, pulling Nimona up to sit properly. “No, darling, it’s not.”
Once again pouting the little one looked away from him, still pouting and eyes deep in thought.
“What’s wrong, Nimona? Why does this upset you so?”
Nimona’s pouty expression slowly fell into something more confused than angry, and sad.
"... Why’d you and Daddy lie to me?”
“Lie to you?” Ballister asked gently, rubbing his little sharks back.
He could feel that something else was going on, but with the way she was nervously looking away, he knew he wasn't going to get her to open up about it easily.
And oh- his heart practically broke at the way those big, shiny sad eyes looked up at him with the slightest nod to the head.
‘She learned that from me, didn’t she? Dangit.'
“About our names?”
Another nod.
‘Oh, darling...’
“Oh darling, no,” the ravenette shook his head, bothered by this notion, and rearranged the both of them to be sitting more comfortably on the bed, “I'm so sorry darling, if that's what it seems like, but we've never lied to you about this, my love, where would you ever get such an idea, my dear?”
Nimona sheepishly played with her fingers. “Cuz... Uhm...” she hesitates a bit, seeming as if she wanted to say something but changed her little mind, “cuz then who’s Daddy and Papa if you someone else?”
“Nimona,” Ballister affectionately chuckled, and brushed a thumb between her brows where they wrinkled up at him again, “I promise, we never lied to you about our names, my dear.”
Ballister sighed and dragged himself to sit back against the headboard shark of the bed. “I won’t fib to you and say that we’ve never lied before, because that in itself would be dishonest of me.
However, I would never lie about who I am to you. Yes, Ballister is my name, one that I have used daily for many years, and that many people call me. But so is Papa.”
Nimona titled her head to the side, making sure Toothie did the same and said in a deeper, gruff voice while she shook the shark around: “I don’ understan.”
“Well, it... hm...” thinking of the best way to explain it, an idea suddenly came to the older man, “it’s like a title! And or an honorific.” He exclaimed, falling into teacher mode immediately.
“What’s a ‘title’?” Curiously, Nimona’s name lit up, excited to learn.
“Well, my dear, a ‘title’ is a name that describes someone's position or profession. Like how Papa is called Dr. because of his work sometimes by the people we meet?”
Nimona nods with him, recounting the times people had called her Papa Dr.
“I thinked they were just dumb... wait, Dr. Blitz and Dr. Spearblade’s names aren’ for real ‘Doctor’?”
Ballister shook his head. “Afraid not, love, those’re just their personal titles. Names they’ve earned for themselves through hard work and determination.”
“Ah, okee.” Nimona seemed to have started to understand. “You and Daddy also did that?”
“Well, the names like Daddy and Papa are, in other terms, titles for people, usually male but it can vary, who take care of, love, and or nurture someone else, often times someone much younger and or smaller than them.”
“Like me!” Nimona exclaimed proudly pointing at herself.
“Yes, my love,” Ballister fondly brushed some of Nimona's hair back, chuckling when she hissed at him and attempted to swat his hand away, “like you.
It’s just one of the many titles I have as a person, one I and your Daddy love, and hope we’re earning every day, but you know what?”
"What?” The little girl blinked up at him with her big, curious eyes.
"Out of all the different titles I have."
Ballister brushed his nose against Nimona, who giggled and threw her arms around his neck to hug him just as tightly.
“'Papa' is my favourite.”
They both held onto each other for a while until Ambrosius called them both down for dinner. Ballister stood up with Nimona secure in his arms and began making his way downstairs.
“Papa?”
“Yes, Nimona?”
“If every one’s some title and other name, do I have one?”
Ballister paused in the hall and looked at the small child in his arms. “You’re my child,” he says, softly caressing her cheek, “you’re my baby, Nimona, our Little Shark, and no matter how old you are, you’ll always be... and when you're older, you'll probably have more, but for now, you're our baby.” Part of him knew one day she’d grow past that, but no matter how old, 5 or 50, she’d always be their baby. “Is that okay?”
Happily Nimona bounced in his arms, “Yeah!”, and began to go on about the different other titles she might get when she’s older, like Ms. or Mr. such as she sees sometimes on those crime shows the small child swears she doesn’t sneak downstairs at night to watch with Ambrosius as the two descended town to join the third member of their little family.
....
“I'm gonna keep calling you guys Papa and Daddy though.”
“Oh yeah?”
"Yeah, cuz I don' really like your other names, they kinda dumb.”
“Pfft, I suppose that’s fair, Little Shark.”