Ok so I've been reading a LOT of good omens fics lately and something in me just snapped when I had a mental image of Crowley doing pottery and now here I am 3 hours later with the most self indulgent piece of writing I have ever made. Why would Crowley be into pottery? Easy, because I am and I am projecting. Also the first time I've written anything fic-like, and I haven't written anything at all in YEARS. SO you could say its been an odd day. But I loved writing it, and I'm curious if anyone else will enjoy my rambling. Be warned, its all over the place. Without any further ado, here is Crowley Makes a Pot (~3k words)

Crowley Makes a Pot

Pottery is a meditation, to Crowley. It is so human, but an act of creation so divine it feels like holding the universe in his hands again. All that raw potential of the clay, just a special kind of dirt they noticed is all really, one that can become anything. Over and over again -- until you take it to the flame, and it becomes eternal. No pottery is ever forced to become a subpar version of itself before actions become permanent. You can work a lump for as long as you have the patience for it, no matter how slopped with water it becomes, how unable to hold its shape -- given time, it will reform. The opposite is true as well for a forgotten pot, unfinished, unsatisfactory, long dried from the air and brittle as bone -- it can be brought back into life with just the addition of water. 

And time, of course. It will break the stiff walls down, moisture seeping in and softening everything. Eventually, it can be molded again into anything else in the world. Take the bits and globs and chunks of previous try’s, lay them all out and let the air and water and time do its work on the earth. You must tend it, tedious though it is, to make sure every point coalesces evenly. Turning and mixing until a semblance of structure is flowing through it, and excess moisture beginning to leave, can be formed into arches, slowly regaining shape.

This process is messy work, and the first few wedges always leave Crowley a bit annoyed, covered in slip, but also alight in a way making a big mess on purpose only can do. Plus, the longer he does it, it'll clean itself up in a sense. One of the nice features of clay. At this point, the addition of hands is necessary -- the heat from the body speeds the drying process as well as warming the clay into an easily workable consistency, and the movement smooths the uneven pieces. Soon, it will come to where Crowley is now. Where in his mind, the meditation begins. A moist, pomegranate sized, dense lump of clay, reworked from his past attempts. He watches, feeling the pockets of air folded into the clay slowly breathe out as his hands deftly push, rotate, push, rotate, over and over and over. Spiral wedging is his preference, the organic, beautiful shape it makes, the dance between the differing pressure and turning of his hands in tandem. 

This repetitive motion is the most important. It is the foundation of everything, and will dictate in no uncertain terms how your throwing will be if done improperly. Rushing through, you will plant the seeds of your own destruction into the clay in the form of random pockets of air that will cause bubbles and irregularities and infuriating popping as the clay stretches -- almost always resulting in a thin point that compromises the entire piece. Sometimes small bubbles can still be fixed, but it makes much more sense to be thorough enough to not have to deal with them at all on the wheel.

So wedging. So much wedging, hundreds of rotations for recycled clay like this. Fifty to a hundred would likely be enough for a lump this size, but Crowley is not going to be making the same mistake as his most recent failure. Damn impatience cost him the pot before it even had a fighting chance. So this time, he goes a bit overboard, and besides, it feels good. There is a mild and not unpleasant burn in his forearms from the work, and he feels almost hypnotized by the spiral in the clay as he works it around and around. 

Finally, the clay feels ready. It feels smooth, unblemished, bearing no mark of its previous collapses, ready to hold itself up again, to become something new. Bit like the birth of a star, if you stretch the metaphor far enough, and Crowley is. It’s all potential right now, but once it gets spinning, all the elements crashing into each other in steady chaos -- until finally, it reaches balance, and can explode into something bright and beautiful. He slowly works the spiral into itself, until it becomes a solid ball, ready to be thrown. 

This part is always good. The satisfaction of a simple first step, a visual and tactile experience to get you into the feel of the clay again before any decisions have to be made. Walking slowly to the wheel with the clay in hand, he lets his mind roll over the possibilities, hands doing the same to the cool surface. You could be anything, he thinks gently at it, heart softening like the wedging had the same effect on it as the clay. Knowing his propensity to be strict and unforgiving with his plants, this may come as a surprise. 

Think about it longer, however, and it becomes quite clear. A plant only has one chance on each leaf it unfurls, once it opens, that’s it, and the delicate body can be affected by anything if he doesn’t inspire them to be strong enough to persist. It could fall at any time. Better to stop at the earliest signs. Clay though, it’s different. It’s just potential, giving itself to him relentlessly, without end, without consequence, until he can agree with it that it will be satisfied this way forever. And then, he can make it so. He can take what he’s created and make it stable, solid, so much stronger than it could have been without the heat of the kiln.

The clay will work with him, endlessly, so long as he lets it. When he thinks of the gift that this is, it makes the world soften at the edges. Working with clay is intimate and vast, because it’s just you and the earth and the air and water and fire, together. It’s being able to take the elements of the world into your hands, and shape them into something, with as much room for error and change as you’d like. 

Until you add the fire. 

He knows the irony of it. But somehow, it doesn’t hurt him in that way. Everything he makes has a choice, careful consideration, multiple opportunities for failure before being gently nestled into a space that will enhance them, make them strong. This flame is not a punishment, it is a gift. It is looking at something you created and saying I want you to persist like this. The way that you are, that I have worked with you in innumerable ways to achieve, is beautiful and ready to be set free into the world of permanence, set free from the cycle of death and rebirth of raw clay. We have spent all these hours together, quietly, in so many different states. I have attended you, and you have given me something to treasure.

Exhaling slowly, he finds himself already seated on the stool in front of the wheel, deliberately placing the bat on the wheel and securing the clay. His thoughts have carried him to this spot, as he finds they often do. A gentle tap of the foot pedal to ensure the wheel is on, wetting his hands generously in the bowl of water next to him brings his mind back to the present. He focuses, steadying himself. Centering, the first part of the pottery process, is the most important. Yes, wedging is the most important as of a few minutes ago, but now, when the clay begins to spin, centering is the most important part. It won’t matter how smooth and air pocket free your clay is from wedging on the wheel -- if it’s not centered, nothing will work, the shape will be uneven, and the clay is likely to collapse or wobble its way off the wheel.

He leans in, getting close and stabilizing his right elbow into his hip as he adds pressure to the lumpy ball, increasing the speed of the wheel. It slaps awkwardly in his wet hands for a moment, until the slow, determined, pressure of his body, and the now fastest pace of the wheel collide onto its form, and smooth it. When you throw, you get to start rough and fast, and Crowley appreciates that about it. As the process goes on, you have to continually slow down, and become ever more precise in your movements and relation to the speed of the wheel. But centering, the beginning, is chaotic and forceful and fast and wonderful.

He fights the off-center wobble of the cylinder, feeling the satisfying grounding he always does. Centering anchors you in place, if you do it right. The wheel is set low, so that sitting close in front of it puts your hips at the same height. This way, you can form connection points all the way from the vast stability of the ground, up through your feet, to your legs and hips, which are always stable in such a low seated position. From there, connecting your elbow into your hip, you can lean forward and place your hand to the clay in its most difficult to control state, and be immovable. Even pounds and pounds of clay at a time can be held in check by thin and unassuming arms in this way. In this merging of earth and water, strength isn't necessary to move mountains, only support. 

The addition of water and gentle guidance from the left hand is constant, easing what would quickly become dry and uncomfortable friction between the clay and his hand, as it becomes stable. He applies pressure differently now that it is, gently but firmly coning the clay up into a thin tower, and then pressing it back again into a low lump. Any potential for mistakes in the wedging process are double checked here, as the clay spirals around itself with the added pressure, changing its shape as it’s pressed up and down. The water works its way evenly into the body of the clay, and it softens further.

Centering is done when you can spin the wheel at top speeds, and the clay appears to be immobile. There will be no indication it’s moving, no wobble, just an illusion of stillness. Now is where Crowley has to begin making decisions. The pace of the wheel slows down, and carefully, he presses into the middle of the top, coaxing it open with just a few fingers. At this point, every other thought normally whirling around his head has been spun out of orbit by the centering of the clay, like the excess water and slip into the drip tray around the wheel. He is calm, all attention raptly honed in on the small cylinder in front of him. Every movement must be precise now. His clay is centered, but any irregular pull or accidental catch of a finger could undo that now.

Opening is one of the most satisfying steps to Crowley, it seems laughable, but its the moment he swears he can feel the appreciation of the clay thrum through him, up through his fingertips and hitting deep in his chest. Thank you. It says, thank you for taking your time with me, allowing me to be imperfect, working so closely and patiently to get to the point where I can be unfurled and become something. He presses down until there’s about half an inch to the bottom of the bat, and then eases it into a pull towards his own body. This part is intimate, he feels like he is saying back, there you go, come here, and let’s see what the two of us can accomplish together now. I've got you, you’ve been so good to me. 

The clay follows where he beckons, and as the opening in the center grows, forming a crude cup shape, he begins easing the pace of the wheel down a tad more. This is where he can be delicate. Must be, really. It’s a feeling he only lets out here, usually. Sometimes it will slip out around Aziraphale, this carefully hidden delicacy of his, but here is where he lets it truly free. It works well for the craft, as the clay requires not only delicacy in this state, but determined force to rise. Pulling the walls. 

He is delicate, but there is a tidal wave of restraint behind it, begging to be unleashed freely. He won’t do that, can’t do that, so it comes out here with a pressure that is perfect for these first few pulls. Slip of leather in his right hand, the fingers of his left deftly finding place on the inside even with the base, he begins. Deliberately, the pressure between his two hands increases on the clay, outside hand hooked just barely lower to make more clay move in these first pulls where the clay is stable and thick enough to withstand it. It feels like a miracle every time, the steady movement making the walls of the cylinder rise higher and higher, reforming rapidly into itself to reach up, stretching thin.

No words are happening in his mind now, and he exalts in it. It’s a feeling he can't describe, making the clay move this way. Ineffable, really. A dance. Lost in the music of the wheels’ low hum, the soft creation under his hands, moving with him. Demons are terrible dancers, but this is instinctual to Crowley now, and all he has to do is let the current of care pull him along with the clay.

Its more than double the height it was when it was first opened, and without hesitation, he moves to widen the base, beginning the shaping process. Its funny every time, the moment of anxiety he sometimes feels when he knows he will eventually have to make decisions about how the pot comes into existence. Always in the transition moments between centering and opening, when he knows the steps that happen the same way each time are coming to an end. He convinces himself he simply won’t know what to do when the time comes, that he hasn’t formulated enough of a plan for anything to be successful. It’s funny, because every time he actually reaches the point where the walls are pulled thin enough to begin to take their own distinct shape, it happens almost without thought. 

It is more an extension of himself at this point than a separate entity he has to force into his will. He moves, the clay moves. The collaboration between loose intentions and the particular preferences of this clay in his hands. This pot, it seems, is not concerned with showy curves or dramatic angles. Forming to the gentle pressures of his hands, its form emerges, a low round base, a slight pull in at the top, ending in a gentle flare. It will house an orchid nicely. 

His mind in a slight haze as he pulls back from the final adjustment on its shape, he locates his metal rib, ready to begin cleaning it up. Connected as he is to the clay in these moments, they are truly unique. With the piece so thin and full of the water necessary to keep it smooth enough to move, the speed of the wheel has slowed significantly, and with it, Crowley. Now, its time to scrape away the softest and messiest pieces on the surface, and see what clarity lies below. 

Gently, he lets the rib connect near the base of the piece, barely touching. It’s not enough to alter its shape, only pull off the slip coating the outside, and he feels it in his mind as well. The haze of such uninterrupted focus peeling off him like this last layer of the clay. He feels much like the pot now looks as the rib feathers carefully off the top of the piece. Made new, smoothed out, ready to settle in this new comfortable shape. A bit of time to firm up again in the world, and then the finishing details of the foot of the pot can be carved out, details that will make this pot who it is. Trimming the foot of a piece can change it entirely, and adds a whole new level of satisfaction to the process for Crowley.

He gets to say, Hello new one, you are soft now and have done so well in your first moments in the world. Take some time. Learn yourself, become comfortable as leather, and then we will trim the pieces of you that you’ve no use for. You will have time to become better, before this becomes permanent. Exhaling slowly, he lets the wheel come to a stop. A beat passes, with the first true lack of movement in the room seeping into him. The nice thing about the nature of clay, is that it will be a few days before he can touch this again. He takes a thin length of wire, presses it onto the bat, and pulls from both ends smoothly across, severing the pot from where it has been connected all this time firmly to the surface. 

Without the spinning of the wheel, his thoughts start to gravitate back into his mind, but slowly enough that he new fragile pot is deposited onto a shelf and carefully, loosely covered to firm up slowly. From here, he knows, his thoughts will speed up and up and up again, he will resume his normal pace -- until he can come back and trim it. Then, blessedly, the process of trimming follows a very similar cadence of starting fast and deliberate and hard, before easing down into precision and slowness. It is perfect for him. The gentle necessity of pottery starting with him where he is, and guiding him into a sort of peace he can only find this way, before setting him free again until the next time. Washing the now dry film of clay on his arms off, he grabs his sunglasses from a nearby snake sculpture that had been the first piece he actually fired, he walks out of the quiet studio. Until next time.

daydream

ride or die | logan x mc (ellie wheeler)

ellie takes logan home from the hospital. he’s had a couple of painkillers.

for @rodappreciationweek day 1 (logan day!)

~2.2k words | T (brief mentions of violence but otherwise extreme fluff)

she’d been in class, when mona had called her, so ellie didn’t get the chance to check her voicemail until an hour after the notification first lit up her cellphone screen. 

then she heard the words ‘hospital’ and ‘surgery’ and promptly blacked out, racing down the highway from campus to get back to the city as quickly as possible.

“where is he?” ellie demanded, once she’d caught up to her, out of breath from having run from the parking lot, “is he okay? can i see him? what happened?”

“relax,” mona said, ellie’s eyes immediately widening in response. now was definitely not the time to relax. “he’s out of surgery. they said it went well. he’s totally fine, we can take him home tonight.”

ellie exhaled, nodding numbly. her shoulders slumped. “okay. okay, that’s good. i’m glad, but -- seriously, what happened to him?”

she winced. “he got shot a little.”

god, was mona ever lucky that they were in a crowded hospital waiting room. swallowing down her scream, ellie grit her teeth and ground out, “how does someone get shot a little?”

mona rolled her eyes. “fine, he got shot a lot. it’s because he doesn’t listen.”

“jesus christ,” ellie huffed, “i can’t believe you --”

“hang on, don’t blame me --”

“excuse me?” 

ellie pursed her lips, turning to the nurse that’d interrupted them. “yes?”

“i’ll need to go over some recovery information with the home caretaker. would that be you?”

well, it definitely wasn’t going to be mona. ellie sighed -- so much for her perfect attendance record this semester, though even the idea of school seemed inconsequential, now. “yeah,” she murmured, “what will he need once i get him home?”

she nodded attentively through a long lecture on bandage changing and medication dosage, making notes on the instructional paperwork the nurse provided. it was relieving to have something to focus on other than the rapid pounding of her heartbeat, which hadn’t taken even a moment to slow since she’d first left class, and the nausea that wouldn’t seem to temper, twisting her stomach into knots.

finally, logan came out into the waiting room, sprawled easily in a wheelchair and talking animatedly to the nurse that was pushing him. he had a wide, goofy smile on his face, and he was talking with his hands -- with the right one, at least, his left arm slung across his stomach.

despite the assurances she’d received since she first got here, part of her hadn’t really thought she’d see him again. part of her was convinced everyone was lying about how fine he was to keep her calm, but the sight of him, alive and whole and seemingly alright immediately triggered a deep relief within her, so sudden and intense that she stumbled a little under the weight of it. 

he turned his head and caught sight of her, his expression lighting up with joy as soon as their eyes locked. “baby,” logan said slowly, drawing out the sound of the vowel so the word felt a mile long. “hey, what’re you doing here?”

tears sprung into her eyes suddenly, catching her entirely off guard. she rushed the rest of the way over to him and reached down to cup his face in her hands, gently smoothing them over his hair and across his cheeks. “thank god you’re okay,” she hiccuped quietly, “i was so scared.”

“oh, don’t cry. you’re so pretty, you shouldn’t cry.” he was still smiling that big grin, and each word out of his mouth was soft and slurred.

from behind him, the nurse that’d brought him out into the lobby said, “he’s on some pretty strong painkillers. he’s probably going to be a little out of it for awhile.”

“that’s okay.” ellie reluctantly pulled her hand away to wipe at her eyes, standing up straight again. “i’m just glad he’s okay.”

“hey, erica, did you meet my girlfriend?” logan asked, tilting his head back to look at the nurse standing behind him, going cross-eyed as he went. “this’s her. she’s the smartest girl in the whole world. she invented physics.”

“wow,” erica the nurse said obligingly, “that’s quite the accomplishment. you must be very proud.”

logan beamed at her. “so proud,” he agreed, “she’s gonna win the nobel prize and i’m gonna be a trophy husband.”

everyone within hearing distance started laughing. ellie could feel herself flush red to the roots of her hair, her whole face going up in flames. “okay, that’s enough. we need to get you home and in bed.”

“cool,” logan said, flipping his hair out of his eyes. he winked at her. 

ellie’s blush deepened as the nurses laughed and fawned over logan while she signed his discharge paperwork -- of course they’d already been charmed by him. 

mona helped her get him into the passenger seat of her car, and then they were alone, ellie’s grip on the steering wheel white-knuckled as she made her way back to his apartment. 

it was a strange role-reversal; often, when they were together, he did the driving. but logan didn’t seem bothered at all by the change of pace, humming to himself and alternating between staring out the window and smiling at her. “you came home from school?” he asked finally, breaking the silence between them. his voice was a sing-song, like they were out for a sunday afternoon drive instead of on their way home from the emergency room.

“yeah,” she answered, “of course. mona called and said you were in the hospital, i didn’t -- i drove down as soon as i could. and i’ll stay as long as i can.”

he made a soft, interested noise from beside her. “stay with me?”

“someone has to change your bandage and --”

“this is the best day ever. baby -- you should stay forever.” ellie glanced over and saw his head roll to the side in the passenger seat, his dopey grin only growing the longer he stared at her. “forever and ever and ever and ever --”

“logan --”

“-- and ever and ever and ever. whaddya say?”

“you are going to feel awful when those wear off,” she murmured, though the tension she’d been carrying in her shoulders started to dissipate, slightly, her lips gently turning up into a smile. “seriously, are you still totally numb?”

a laugh bubbled up in his mouth -- something like a giggle. “pretty much. just pulls a little if i move weird.” as she waited to merge onto the highway, ellie glanced over at logan again and found him poking at his stomach with a wince. “hurt like hell when it happened, though.” 

“you scared the shit out of me,” she said bluntly, turning back to the road and frowning at it as though the 405 was personally responsible for logan’s injury. “i almost had a stroke driving down here.”

“god, i’m sorry, el.” the playful tone was gone from his voice all at once, replaced with dramatic agony. “i mean it, babe. i’m really -- really -- really sorry.”

“it’s fine,” ellie assured him, doing her best to stifle a laugh, her anger evaporating completely in the face of his pouting, “the important thing is that you’re alright now.”

it was a balance, keeping her handle on the road smooth while still trying to get them home as quickly as possible, but she managed it, somehow able to get logan into the apartment even with his limbs seemingly everywhere at once when he leaned on her for support. 

“ow,” he whined abruptly, as soon as she got him in bed and logan’s head hit the pillow, “ow, ow, ow. ellie, ow.”

“one second,” she murmured, biting back another laugh while she made sure he was situated and comfortable, taking care to get everything organized so she wouldn’t have any issues over the next few days before presenting logan with another pill and a bottle of water. “here.”

“feed it to me,” he demanded, sticking out his tongue.

ellie stared at him. he arched his eyebrows expectantly.

“you’re ridiculous,” she laughed, but dropped the pill into his mouth anyway, still pushing the bottle of water forcefully into his hands. “stop it, you’ll choke.”

“you hate me,” logan said, but he did swallow the pill without complaining, wiggling down under the covers as soon as he was done. once the blankets were yanked up to his chin, he said, “come here.”

“baby, you really need to rest,” ellie murmured, though she still sat down on the edge of the mattress beside him as carefully as she could, reaching out to smooth her hand over his hair again. “you need to get some sleep, okay?”

his eyes went wide and sad. “what did i ever do to make you hate me so much?” logan’s words were starting to slur together again. “all i ever did was love you, a lot, like so much.”

she regarded him fondly as he continued to ramble, her whole body thrumming with affection. logan was impossible to deny on a normal day, but today? all she really wanted was to be close to him, anyway. “okay, drama queen. you win.” 

ellie slipped into the bed beside him as gingerly as possible, taking care not to touch him. part of her was curious about the bandaged wound on his side, but her stomach rolled at just the thought of seeing it up close, the same nauseous mix of fear and dread that’d been so prevalent during her drive down this afternoon returning all at once. 

“so much better,” he sighed, reaching out and grabbing her hand, lacing their fingers together. each word dragged out endlessly again, just like his first baby at the hospital. “i missed you. you’re so pretty.”

“you mentioned that,” she laughed, doing her very best to focus on how cute he was being and not on the fact that he’d almost died earlier today. if she thought about anything other than how different and weird and kind of nice it was to see his silly side, she was going to crack completely. “i missed you, too, baby. i wish we were closer together.”

“wish we were together all the time,” logan said, the sentence broken apart by a yawn that stretched his jaw halfway through. “s’cause you gotta go to school and be smart and do important stuff, i guess.”

“yeah,” ellie murmured. she fell quiet as she studied his expression, and then her lips curved back up into a smile. “we really have to work on making you a trophy husband, asap. no more life-or-death stuff for you.”

“tell me about it,” he hummed, dragging his thumb across the back of her hand. “but i’ll be the best trophy husband ever, el. super dad.”

her teeth bit at her bottom lip. it was probably wrong to take advantage of the fact that he wasn’t exactly himself, but -- “you think about that kind of stuff?”

“duh.” ellie pursed her lips to hold back a grin. the tone of his voice implied it should have been obvious. “you’re the whole world. i wanna do it all with you.”

she shifted closer in the low light of his bedroom, until their knees bumped together under the sheets. logan smiled at her, and she felt her heart skip what was probably an important beat, her pulse stuttering and then picking up again in double time as she watched him from up close.

“i love you.” ellie shut her eyes. despite her best efforts, she knew she was getting emotional. the emotional rollercoaster she’d been on over the last few hours was proving to be overwhelming. she suddenly felt exhausted.

“hey, i love you more. more than... cars. more than indiana jones. more than all the stars in the sky. more than -- oh, more than french fries, ellie. that’s a lot.”

she laughed, the sound morphing into a contented sigh when logan tipped their foreheads together. ellie drew in a deep breath and caught something uniquely him under the scent of the hospital -- antiseptic and sterile alcohol -- something familiar and deep and rich, like the woods and like home, a scent that clung to the inside of his car and all her favorite clothes, following her out to college and everywhere else she went. 

her eyes slowly blinked open. “that is a lot.”

“you’re the best dream,” he mumbled nonsensically, “i hope you’re still here when i wake up.”

ellie stared at him, taking in the way his blinks were slowing down, how his breathing was evening out steadily. she exhaled, finally, forcibly remembering what the staff at the hospital had said and reminding herself how important it was that he got a good night’s sleep. 

logan was okay. everything was going to be fine. she could do this. “of course i’ll still be here,” she promised, lowering her voice to the same hushed whisper. “i’m not going anywhere.”

he shot her one more dreamy smile, but didn’t say anything else. ellie averted her eyes, staring out the window over his head so she could look at the moon, her mind racing. 

eventually, his hand went slack in hers. she still kept their fingers intertwined, and the steady sound of his breathing in the bed beside her finally turned everything still, including her swirling thoughts. 

tonight, they were together -- so that meant there was nothing to worry about.

for now.

Home [3/10]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader, Kirishima x reader

Fluff, angst, werewolf!au

Word count: 2.9k

Warning: cursing, makeout session

A/N: let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part! I will try to update this once every week. I’m just working so much that I barely have free time to write but if you guys are enjoying this so far, let me know!

Summary: Being called the beauty of the clan isn’t as nice as it sounds. The beauty of the clan is supposed to exude confidence, power, and well, beauty. You were quite the opposite, only possessing one of those traits. Yet, the older you got, the more you fit into the role you were given. After your brother and all the boys of age come back from their training period, it was time to find a mate. But who will steal your heart? Is it Bakugou, the rising leader of the pack, or is it Kirishima, the personal guard and the strongest in the pack?

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

“What the hell do you mean fiancée?” Bakugou questioned, not giving a care in the world who this girl was in front of him. He then swung his arm around your shoulder, bringing you in close. “Last time I checked, we already discussed who was to be my mate before I left.” His frown getting deeper and deeper, his grip on your shoulder tightened. His father didn’t seem fazed by the aggressive behavior his son was giving.

“Let’s discuss this inside,” his father redirected the conversation and motioned for them to move indoors but Bakugou didn’t move.

“We can talk. Now.” Bakugou was speaking through his teeth. A vein popped on the side of his face, indicating that he was beyond pissed now. You? All you could do was stare at Uraraka with hurt and disbelief written all over your face. She, on the other hand, refused to look at you. You could tell by the way she continued to look at the ground. Bakugou’s father cleared his throat and put his hands behind his back.

“A lot happened when you were gone,” he started out. “No shit.” Bakugou remarked.

��Our pack is getting weaker by the day and I was running out of options. The opportunity came by and the only way for our pack to get stronger is to merge with another. But both packs needed something that could connect us together and…”

“…and you needed me to be that connection?”

“Precisely,” Bakugou’s father didn’t hesitate to say. No matter what the reason was, you can’t go against the clan leader, even if you are his son. But no matter how much Bakugou thought about it, it wasn’t fair. To him or you. He didn’t wait 2 years for you to come back to this being his only outcome. How could they even come to this conclusion without discussing it first? There had to be other ways besides marriage.

“You don’t think I know how weak we got? Do you even know how hard I trained just so that I could lead this pack? I can bring us back to how it was before! If you just give me a few years, we can-”

“When will you understand that you will not be enough!” his father shouted, causing everyone to be silent. Bakugou’s voice got caught in his throat as he looked away from his father. He wanted to retaliate but what could he say? Before his father could continue, Bakugou took your hand and ran. He didn’t know where he was going. All he knew is that he had to get out of there. With you. As long as you were with him at that moment, that’s what all that mattered. Mid run, he pulled you on his back as he transformed into his wolf form. His blonde fur was rough against your skin at first touch, much like his personality when you first meet him. But as you dug your fingers deeper into his fur, it’s as soft as a blanket which comforts you. You were surprised by his sudden actions but you knew his frustration. He tends to do this whenever he faces a problem: walk away. Instead of fighting more, he needed to walk away from the situation just to clear his head. You gripped onto Bakugou’s fur and laid on top of him while he takes you who knows where.

When he finally stops, he lets you off gently despite the pent of frustration and anger he has been holding. You look around and smile softly. It’s the same river from when you two first met. Man, did this site bring back so many memories. But that hurt your heart even more knowing that that could all be over because of this marriage. You turn to Bakugou, seeing him pace around in circles. You know trying to intervene right now would end up badly, so you let him pace around like that until he cools down. In the meantime, you laid down in the shade, under the tree and took a deep breath. You needed to clear your head as well. Too many things were happening at a time and you just needed time to slow down right now. You felt Bakugou walk up behind you and he laid down right next to you, his muzzle snuggling into your neck. You laughed a bit and pet his fur, nuzzling him right back. He slowly transformed back into his human form, his whole body leaning over yours. For a moment, he didn’t say a word. He just looked deep into your eyes like if he looked away for just one second, you would disappear like a dream. You could only look back with sympathetic eyes and your hand came into contact with his cheek. This made him relax into your hand. He took your hand in his and kissed the palm of your hand.

“You know I only want to be with your right?” Bakugou says, giving you the softest eyes. You smiled back.

“I know,” you softly whispered. “What are we going to do?” Bakugou groans and rolls off you. When his back lands on the grass, he hides his eyes with his arm.

“I don’t fucking know,” he lets out a frustrated sigh. “This is not how I was imagining my time back. I just wanted to come home, eat some hella good food, and make out with you until we fall asleep. Not this fucking shit! What the hell do arranged marriages even exist?! We don’t live in the shitty 1800s anymore.” He rolled back on top of you, pulling you in closer and rested his head in the crevasse of your neck once again. You honestly didn’t know what to say. Did you want to convince him to take part of the marriage to benefit the entire pack? Or be selfish and tell him to only be with you?

“Oi, were you listening?” your eyes snapped back towards Bakugou and he was staring down at you intently, a frown appeared on his face.

“Sorry,” You sheepishly smile at him, embarrassed you were daydreaming, “it’s just… everything is happening so fast. You come home and all of a suddenly your engaged? My feelings are just so confused right now,” you admit.

“Then tell me,”

“What?” you questioned.

“Tell me not to marry her. If you don’t want me to marry her, I won’t. We’ll run away together. We can start a family and-” he started to ramble on as he was getting desperate but you stopped him. No matter how much you desperately wanted him to stay by your side, you knew that it was his duty and his responsibility to the pack to protect them at all costs. If you were just going to ruin that just because you wanted him for yourself, then what kind of person were you?

“Bakugou, I think you should do what’s right,” you said without trying to put your own opinions on him. “What is your heart telling you?”

“My heart is saying that I want to be with you.” He said determined.

“I want to be with you too, but… do you want to risk your position as alpha just to be with me? You trained for this all your life. And you’re almost there! I wish there was another way but there isn’t,” you said, dejected.

“Let me mark you,” he said suddenly. A rush of pink went to your cheeks and you suddenly felt really hot.

“W-w-w-what?!”

“If I mark you, we are mates forever. Doesn’t matter if I’m married to someone else or not. Think about it! That’s the only way!” Bakugou was getting excited with just the thought. You, on the other hand, was just getting embarrassed. It’s true that getting marked by someone means you are theirs forever, but getting marked is such an intimate move. How would he mark you if you guys haven’t even had sex yet? Upon seeing your reaction, he knew that you didn’t feel the same. “Is that not what you want?”

“It’s not that! It’s just, it’s so sudden and I’m not ready…” you said shyly, refusing to look directly at him. Bakugou can be really hot tempered sometimes, but when it comes to you, he was always understanding.

“Fuck, sorry. I just… I don’t want to marry someone that’s not you,”

“But if it’s for your people then…” you didn’t dare finish that sentence because if you did, then you felt like you would be letting him go forever. And waterworks would be falling out of your eyes like there’s no tomorrow.

“Fine. I’ll only do it to make the pack stronger. But that doesn’t mean that my feelings for you are going to go away that easily.” Bakugou was upset that you were giving up so easily, but given the situation, he was trying his best to understand where you were coming from. And knowing you, you already looked like you would crying any minute so dragging out this conversation anymore would only make you a mess. He took a minute to look over your features. He loved the way your eyes would disappear when you were completely happy. Or when your brows furrowed when you are either really concentrated on something or when you’re sleeping, it always fascinated him. Or the way your smile brightens his day and can lift any bad mood off his shoulders. Or even when you frown. No matter how upset you were at him, he always found your pout to be cute and he would always have to stop himself from pinching your cute, chubby cheeks until they were red from his grip. But he couldn’t stop staring at your lips. How they were always so soft to the touch. He found himself leaning in until his lips were right on top of yours, slowly leading from a few, passionate kisses to a hungry and steamy make out session. Both of your scents mingled together was intoxicating, only making you guys want each other more. Bakugou’s hands reached your hips and every time your tongues danced against each other, he would tighten his grip to stop himself from moaning. Your finger found its way to his soft, blonde locks, pulling him deeper into the kiss. Unlike Bakugou, whenever he grinded into you or bit your lower lip, you would help but give a small moan. Bakugou would growl in response and flipped your around so that you were straddling his lap. He continues to attack your lips with his as one of his hands slowly creeps up from your hips to caress the curves of your body. When he reaches the back of your head, he takes a handful of hair, gripping at the base which causes your head to fall back a bit, leaving your neck exposed. Bakugou took the chance to slowly kiss from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of saliva behind. God, how he wanted to just attack and abuse your neck right now to show everyone that you were his, but he knew when to hold back. Instead, he gently sucked on your skin, enough to build pleasure but not enough to leave a mark.  Before anything steamier could happen, your stomach growled at the wrong moment. You pulled away embarrassed but made Bakugou chuckle.

“Let’s get you home, princess.”

As much as you wanted him to stay, Bakugou didn’t stay for dinner. He didn’t want to impose on the welcome back dinner your parents had made for Sero’s return. And he knew he had to face his father sometime soon. He was going to get even more crap after what he just did earlier. So he took you home, leaving a kiss goodbye before returning back to his place. As soon as he left, you could feel a weight press heavy on your heart. You didn’t technically break up, but it sure felt like it. Even though his heart was with you, he was going to marry someone else. Your friend at that. You bit your lip to prevent the tears already streaming down your face. The feeling of sadness was overtaking your body. The emotion was too overwhelming, you could feel the dark shadow forming behind you, whispering nothing but bad in your ears. The more you hear your shadow talking, the more upset you felt and wondering if they were right.

“Fuck, (y/n),” you could barely hear someone say. The voice of your shadow was taking control of your senses, almost putting you in a daze. A pair of strong hands took hold of your shoulders, gently shaking you. “(y/n), you’re okay. Come back to me,” he said. As soon as one of his hands cupped the side of your face, you snapped out of your daze. Tears were running down your face as you looked at who was in front of you.

“Eiji…” you could barely speak. “What happened?”

“It happened again,” he explained, wiping the tears away. You groaned and grabbed your head. No wonder you feel exhausted and have a headache. You haven’t had one of these episodes in a long time. You cursed at yourself for losing control and letting it take over your body. Whenever you get extremely sad or angry, your quirk activates. Black ghost, you called it. The black ghost would appear out of your body and would act as your subconscious. But because it only activated when you were upset or angry, your subconscious thoughts were always negative which was a danger to you. Your family, especially your older brother, tried so hard to look after you and keep you happy so that your quirk never activates. And even if it does, they are there to stop it. But after being friends with Kirishima and Bakugou for so long, they eventually found out about it and also intervene with your quirk acts up. Kirishima is the one who catches it the most out of everybody so he knows exactly what to do in situations like these, even if they are rare.

“Fuck,” you cry into your hands. You couldn’t believe you were so weak to let this happen. Kirishima could feel his heart break at the site of you break down. Without thinking, he pulled you into a crushing hug, enveloping you in his arms. With how much stronger he’s gotten and how bigger he was, you’d think his embrace would be uncomfortable. But his hugs were just as comforting as before. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Don’t be sorry. A lot happened. Let’s just calm down first, okay?” Kirishima pulled away and got eye level with you. You were breathing pretty heavily but all Kirishima could do was sit by your side. The more he observed you, the more he noticed how much more beautiful you had gotten. But he couldn’t admire your full beauty when your hair was in your face. He couldn’t help but move a strand of hair away from your face and tuck in behind your ear. You looked up at him and was surprised by how close he was. You were surprised yet you didn’t move away.

“Thank you, Eiji,” you thanked him, leaning your face forward so that your foreheads were touching. You’ve been doing this ever since you’ve met him, but this little action made his heart leap. One minute, his heart was aching but now you made his heart skip a beat? Man, what were you doing to him?

“All good now? Did that stupid ghost finally stop bothering you?” he joked. You laughed at his comment, although your energy was still diminished.

“She’s gone now, thanks to you,”

“Good. If she wasn’t gone within the next 2 seconds, I would have strangled her to death using my new, super manly moves I learned during training,” he tried to brag. His words were harsh, yet joking but his tone was still soft. After a few minutes of resting to recover a bit of your energy, you could finally stand. You didn’t need assistance but Kirishima insisted, afraid that you would collapse again if he wasn’t there to hold you up.

“Thank you again, Eiji. What are you doing here anyway?” you questioned. It was odd, you were having an episode and Kirishima happened to be here at the right time? Shouldn’t he be with Bakugou since he is his personal guard? Last time you checked, personal guards were supposed to be with their person at all times.

“I came to check up on you. Bakugou’s orders,” he explained. You nodded your head. He was probably busy fighting with his father so he made Kirishima go on an errand.

“Ah, so you didn’t come check up on me because you were worried for me as a friend? But as an order? I see…” you trailed off, jokingly seeming like you were disappointed. This caused Kirishima to panic which only made you chuckle at his response. Your stomach growled once again and only then did you realize how hungry you were.

“Looks like you better go inside and eat up. I know you’ll be much happier when you have a full stomach,” Kirishima pet your head. “Whether or not it was my job to come check on you, I still would have done it because I’m worried about you as your friend.” That last word was hard to say for him.

“Thank you, anyway. Then I’ll get going?” Kirishima nodded and you headed towards the front door of your house. When he saw you open the door, he turned and walked back to Bakugou’s house. Unexpectedly, you turned around and called out his name. He swiftly turned around, surprised and confused. 

“Would you like to join for dinner?”

Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon @goodpop9

LANGUAGES: CAPTAIN CYRIL STACY

SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1  /  2  /  3 + TONE OF VOICE: high  /  average  /  deep. ACCENT:  yes  /  no. DEMEANOR:  confident  /  shy  /  approachable  /  hostile  /  other. [ authoritative ] POSTURE:  slumped /  straight  /  stiff  /  relaxed. HABITS:  head tilting  /  swaying / fidgeting  /  stuttering  /  gesturing  /  arm crossing /  strokes chin  /  er, um, or other interjections  /  plays with hair or clothing /  hands at hips  / inconsistent eye contact  /  maintains eye contact  /  frequent pausing  /  stands close  /  stands at distance.

COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY:  ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ EMOTION:  ◼ ◻ ◻ ◻ ◻ SENTENCE STRUCTURE:  ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ 

PROFANITY

PROFANITY:  ◼ ◻ ◻ ◻ ◻ [ highly situational - but he generally tries to avoid it ] CREATIVITY:  ◻ ◻ ◻ ◻ ◻ 

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY

arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shite. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

GIVEN PROPER RELIGIOUS CONTEXT 

christ on a bike. christ on a cracker. damn. goddamn. godsdamn. hell. holy shit. jesus. jesus christ. jesus h christ. jesus h. roosevelt christ. lord have mercy. jesus, mary and joseph. sweet jesus.

THIS OR THAT

contractions or enunciation?   straightforward or and cryptic?   jargon or toned?   complexity or simplicity?   finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind?   masculinity, neutrality, or femininity?   formalities or abrasiveness?   praise or equivocation?   frankness or lies?   excessive or minimal hand gestures?   name-calling or magnanimity?  friendly or blunt nicknames?

◈ IMPORTANT QUESTIONS ◈

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR MUSE?

almost always  /  frequently  /  sometimes /  rarely  /  never.

DOES YOUR MUSE’S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK?

almost always  /  frequently  / sometimes  /  rarely  /  never.  

WOULD YOUR MUSE INITIATE CONVERSATIONS?

almost always  / frequently  /  sometimes /  rarely  /  never.

WOULD YOUR MUSE BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS?

almost always  /  frequently /  sometimes  /  rarely  /  never.

WOULD YOUR MUSE USE “WHOM” IN A SENTENCE?

yes /  no  /  only ironically.

YOUR MUSE WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? 

but /  though  /  although  /  however /  perhaps  / mayhaps.

HOW DOES YOUR MUSE END CONVERSATIONS?

walk away /  ask if that’s everything  /  say that that’s everything  / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they’re done here  /  remain quiet  /  they don’t.

HOW DOES YOUR MUSE ADDRESS OTHERS?

titles /  first names / surnames / full names /  nicknames. [ pet names ]

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR MUSE BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK?

upper /  middle /  lower.

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR MUSE SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? 

accent /  vocabulary  / tone  /  level  /  politeness /  brusqueness /  it doesn’t.

Tagged by: @ofthesilverlining​ & @windup-dragoon​​ ( Thank you both! )

Tagging: @manawalls​ @noscean-scholar​ @finalvalor​ @verdandir​ @coeurlfist​ @windupzenos​ @wanderlust-spirits @alinteau​ @amurr-reha​ @tay-ffxiv​ @alun-ura​ @cuffles​ @menphinasbow​​ @varae-ver-you-are​ @cero-tia​ @thebratcat​ @smolcatte​ @heathenfrolic​ & anyone else interested!

( As always, no pressure to do the meme - but if you would like to do it, here is your excuse! Please feel free to use me as your tagger even if I didn’t mention you, I’d love to read more of these! )

Continued Cyril ramblings under the cut.

I have one (1) brain cell at this time so instead of eloquently worded information and thought provoking headcanons, you - my dear and most sincerely appreciated reader - get a bulleted list.

Okay here we go.  ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Cyril is, in any situation, quite formal in his vocabulary and sentence structure. This goes hand in hand with formal mannerisms and carrying.

Typically, the only real vocal indication of hostility - or otherwise less than noble intentions - is Cyril growling. His tone, manners, and vocabulary will remain composed, even if he’s quite literally in the act of something unsavory.

Cyril typically speaks slowly, which can either put people at ease or instill the exact opposite feeling. Naturally this depends on the dynamic, but it’s a common thread that Cyril’s voice goes from being a soothing presence to a terrifying one.

In most scenarios, there is precious little emotion present in his voice - which can sometimes make him sound disinterested or unimpressed. That can either be an asset or a detriment, depending on who he’s talking to.

Most of his emotion - if he deems to show any - is present in his body language and, in conversation, displayed primarily through eye contact.

How Cyril speaks to someone is almost wholly dependent upon the dynamic between the two. Whether he’s stoic, gentle, invested, impatient etc will all depend on who he’s speaking to.

No matter the situation, Cyril’s voice always retain one feature that many will speak of: it’s loud. Or at least, it feels loud.

Cyril has a very authoritative demeanor and tone, and he does not allow people to speak over him. Because of this, he’s usually able to drown out others and command attention.

When speaking to crew or giving orders, all emotion will typically drain from his voice. This is the loudest and perhaps the most impatient he can sound - though whether or not the most intimidating is likely a matter of opinion.

The alternative for the most intimidating Cyril can sound is how he speaks when riled. While still formal and - until things begin to get violent / he loses his temper - quite calm and collected, he will snarl and growl low in the back of his throat to convey that he’s not playing around.

Full-fledged anger does not inherently mean he grows to be particularly loud - but his words and tone will be more aggressive and authoritative, similar in some ways to how his voice sounds when commanding the crew - but mingled now with unpleasant emotion. Most of his anger is conveyed in his actions, ie lashing out at others.

Genuine curses are rare. Typically foul language is reserved for use as a term / pet name to talk down to another.

Cyril never stutters or stammers his words - and he hates when people fumble over their words in such a manner. It’s common for him to blatantly ignore people until they can speak “properly” to him, without stuttering. In some cases he’ll cut people off and demand they start again, or repeat it until they can talk without fumbling. 

Eye contact is important to Cyril, especially in conversation. It’s also typical for him to get up in someone’s face to make sure they’re looking at him when they’re speaking. ( Again, very dependent upon dynamic, but still worth mentioning. )

Thank you for reading! 🌹

Relief

FF.net | AO3.org

Drakgo Prompt #10

Shego rolled onto her back and stretched as best as her swollen body allowed. The cool silk sheets on her freshly shaved legs offered her little relief. Uncomfortable was just a normal side effect of being 38 weeks pregnant. She tried not to complain too much, being fortunate enough to have a partner willing to pamper her each and every whim, including but not limited to shaving her legs a few short hours ago. The knowledge she was scheduled for a C-section in the morning offered her little comfort as the weight of the twins pressed down constantly on her bladder.

She had already been up and had taken a shower to try to relax to no avail. This last month, her whole body was always too hot or too cold and every little thing had easily irritated her already short temper. Wearing nothing but a floral muumuu Mama Lipsky had gifted her, she glared at the ceiling feeling all the more like a beached seal. It had already been well over an hour since she had started to feel the cramps in her abdomen. Having gone through more than her fair share of Braxton Hicks contractions already, she had tried to tune out them out and sleep. Turning her gaze to her husband she smiled wistfully at his sleeping form. He had barely slept at all this last week in his attempts to get everything ready. It had all been done months ago, but that hadn't stopped him from trying to plan out every possible outcome. Deciding she should deal with the false labor pains herself, she finally gave up on trying to sleep and awkwardly removed herself from the bed.

Waddling her way down to the lab, she wondered if she had left her newest copy of Baby & Me magazine in there. Upon entering, her gaze was drawn to a patch of swaying vines. A fond smile drew its way onto her lips as she realized his vines were rocking N.O.R.B.E.R.T. to "sleep" wondering if he was dreaming of the twins.

Shortly after realizing she was pregnant, Drakken's joy had quickly turned to worry as he became a nervous wreck. Worried he would hurt the twins, not knowing how to hold them, or even going so far as to worry that if they came out as a mutant how would they handle things. He had disappeared for hours and she ended up finding him digging through the storage unit trying to find their first "baby" together. The failed babysitting scheme NonOrganic Robotic BioEnginereed Replicant Tot, or as they referred to it, Norbert, had been inactive for years. He had gloated in triumph as he completed reprogramming the doll to replicate her plasma blast and reworked the robotic legs to behave closer to the mannerisms of his vines.

She had to admit, it had been amusing seeing him try to placate the robot baby while both the blast and vines had come at him. Reluctantly she had agreed that it could very well be a possibility and they should have some practice just in case. A few fire drills and now expertly executed diaper changes later they had plenty of strange strategies in place to calm the doll.

She knew she had been caught in memory lane a little too long for her swollen ankles when she shifted her weight and winced at the pain. As if sensing her discomfort, a new set of vines drifted behind her to form a makeshift swing. Smiling gratefully, she accepted the seat presented to her. It began to sway softly in time with the seat rocking Norbert, and before she knew she started to peacefully drift off.

That was of course until she felt a strange burble and then a sudden pop as her water broke. All traces of sleep disappeared as she got off the swing as quickly as her pregnant body allowed and made her way back to their bedroom.

"Drakken wake up!"

The door had barely opened before she started shouting at him. Unfortunately for her, he had always slept like the dead so it was no surprise that didn't wake up instantly.

"Dr. D.!"

Sighing heavily as she leaned against the doorframe she leaned her head back in exasperation.

"Drew!"

He shot up and looked around trying to gather his bearings. Finally noticing Shego was standing in the door frame and not lying next to him he got out of bed and headed towards her.

"Shego, what's wrong? Are you hungry? Did Norbert wake up? Did Norbert set something on fire again? Is the lab on fire!"

She smiled fondly as his ramblings quickly started turning into incoherent jumbles. Calmly resting her hand on his shoulder to try to draw his attention, she told him the real reason she had woken him.

"My water just broke."

He paused mid-sentence and rested his hand over his heart, sighing in relief.

"Oh, is that all."

Shego smirked and started her internal count down. 3...2...1... And,

"Oh!"

He jumped with a start and began his prepared emergency plan. He ran to the closet to grab the overnight bag and a pair of shoes. Rushing back to her side he started to help guide her to the hovercar.

"How far apart are your contractions? How long have you had contractions? On a level of 1 to 10, what is your pain level?"

She stood still and unwavering, her amusement at watching him scamper around to get ready quickly fading.

"Drakken."

He huffed as she stubbornly held her ground in the doorway.

"Shego the overnight bag has everything you need. We should get going."

He placed his hand on the small of her back and tried again to coax her to start heading towards the hospital. His vines had moved to brightly line the hallway behind her in an emergency exit pattern leading to the hovercar.

"Dr. D..."

Between the ever-quickening contractions and increasing uncomfortable pressure bearing down on her, she was quickly losing her patience. Her glare, which would normally have done the job of convincing him to focus and listen, was currently outmatched by the panic-driven adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"Shego, can you not move? Do I need to carry you? Are you injured! I knew we should have bought that wheelchair while we had the chance!"

In an attempt to calm her quickly growing irritation, she pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath.

"Drew!"

He paused in his current rambling and she could see the moment his mind was clear enough to get her point across as the flowers turned their focus in on her as well.

"Pants. Pants Drew. As much as I like your cute blue butt, you need to put on pants before we can go to the Hospital."

Even with the contractions and her pre-parental panic jumbling up her feelings, a sense of relief finally flowed into her as she felt her smirk return. Before her, Drakken stood in nothing but his tennis shoes giving her quite the show as his blush washed over him, painting him a lovely shade of purple.

Somewhere, out in the multiverse, someone tried to make Ardyn chancellor... Which the Ardyn in question would find entertaining, in theory- except he'd be chancellor. Ardyn has had more than enough of politics, thank you, and that's part of what had originally sent his life to hell. And he may or may not have already lived through this mess once, twice would be boring. So, sorry, dear. But if you want him as chancellor, you'll have to catch him first.

I love this idea. I love it SO MUCH IMMA RAMBLE/MINI-FIC ON IT-.

-Just- Ardyn probably taking one look at this Mad Scientist (not that he knows that pop culture term) and deciding that whatever the man has planned is Not Good and Ardyn may be a walking mess and may not Understand Technology At All but he’s not going to just sit around being used a second time in his life and so he...

-Bolts. Uses his newfound daemon powers to escape into the wildness and then realizes he doesn’t really ... know where to go? At all?

-Decides to travel everywhere and see how the world has changed because what else is he going to do? He isn’t Ifrit-crazy in this AU and so has no real desire to go hunt down the LCs for revenge (no desire to see them at all actually but eh).

-While Bersithia and the rest of Niflheim proceed to lose their minds (YOU LOST THE ADAGIUM??? FROM THE MOST SECURE FACILITY IN NIFLHEIM??????) Ardyn ambles all over the place and finds really interesting people and learns how to use his daemon powers to Not Get Hurt and also how to ignore the screaming in his head at having Daemon Powers. Visits all sorts of cool places, wanders into Altissia looking for a boat to Lucis, briefly meets Weskham who is just getting Maagho of the ground and teaches the nice young man some ancient recipes for the lols before shambling off to Lucis.

-Immediately, instantly, catastrophically starts rumors left and right. Niflheim has great censorship (this is the evil dictatorship that convinced its people they were “vanishing” and not “turning into daemons” after all) so rumors of a “human-shaped daemon” never get off the ground there but in Lucis? In Lucis the rumors SOAR.

-Ardyn’s whole anonymity thing would be way more effective if he didn’t have insomnia (the medical kind not the city) and no REAL need to eat or sleep and so often spends both days AND nights ambling around looking at the sights, drinking in the fresh air, listening to the mad cackle of daemons as they chase some poor hapless Hunter-.

-Wait.

-Poor Hapless Hunter in question has NO IDEA what to make of Ardyn ‘Healer King’ Lucis Caelum (not that he knows Ardyn’s name) sweeping in and driving off the daemons with powers unnatural. He is not reaaallllly the king of daemons because the Scourge doesn’t have a set hierarchy like that but the strongest daemon in the area CAN boss the others around and Ardyn is the strongest daemon literally everywhere he goes. So when he saunters in, face weeping Starscourge, skin pale as ash, and growls at them to kindly leave, all the lesser daemons scramble off in a panic.

-Poor Hapless Hunter stares in Terror™ at this man-shaped daemon eyeballing him for injuries like a meal. Is ... very confused when the man-shaped daemon sighs like the Hunter is a Problem Child and herds/leads/scares him off to the nearest Haven, lecturing him blandly the whole way about not getting caught out at night “you’re fragile and easily killed and smell like a royal meal to any daemon in the area, honestly you should know better than this, did your parents teach you nothing?”

-Poor Hapless Hunter is not believed in his wild tale until it happens again. And again. And again but to a lost civilian family whose car had broken down at dusk and were about to be killed by Iron Giants. And honestly by the time the Chocobros 1.0 hear about it, the Hunters have accepted the existence of a fae-like, semi-benevolent King of Daemons (he bitterly tells one Hunter that he is called Adagium, but that his name is his own, and after the initial panic attack of talking to the Literal Boogie Man, all the Hunters agree to never call him Adagium. It might anger him.) and are leaving him gifts of food and clothes and tacky hats (he seems to enjoy tacky hats, there’s a betting pool on which one he will wear next time he appears) in hopes of winning his favor and protection. Some of the bolder ones will even hold conversations with him when he appears, and the most rural of Lucians are telling their children that if they ever get lost out at night, they are to hide and whisper a certain phrase that is said to summon the king of daemons (King of Night please hear my plea, I need your aid with all due speed). Ardyn keeps stumbling across those kids/people who say that phrase by accident and it only reinforces the mythos springing up about him.

-Cor searches in vain for someone who can actually confirm the existence of this Daemon King they all claim exists (and Cor tries not to think too hard on the fact that Angelgard was broken into two years or so ago, that there were signs that something had been dragged out of the sealed prison Adagium was said to lie in). Eventually decides that if this “King of Daemons” only appears to lost travelers in the dead of night, he’s just going to have to go get himself lost in the dead of night. Because Cor Leonis.

-Runs into Ardyn while fighting off the host of daemons that are coming for Cor. Is ... unnerved when a soft word from the figure in the shadows sends them scurrying. Ardyn’s face comes into view in the light of Cor’s flashlight and Cor flinches at the scourge weeping down his face. Ardyn just blinks at him, used to that reaction to him when he’s not hiding the Scourge in his veins (he hides it in the day so people don’t realize their “King of Night” is actually able to move around in the daylight, if under way too many layers of tacky clothing), “You are not a Hunter or a civilian,” Ardyn points out mildly.

-”What are you?” Cor snaps with white-knuckles on his sword hilt.

-”More polite than you.” Ardyn answers without batting an eyelash, “I save you from a horde of daemons and you don’t even say thank you? Rude. You must be from the lovely capital.” Because the rural folk have all seemed to have taken a wary liking to him in this form, and its hilarious to him in a heartbreaking way that people are more willing to shyly leave gifts on the edge of their property and children stick their heads out their bedroom windows and talk to him when he looks like a daemon in man’s skin than when he’s just a human drifter trying to figure out what in the world a phone is.

-Cor blinks, not expecting that at all, then keeps pushing the issue, “If you are the so called Daemon King, then why don’t you just call them off permanently?”

-”I’m a king,” Ardyn retorts blandly, “not an god. The daemons are wild, insatiable creatures. They only listen when I am near. So I suggest you make your way to a Haven before I leave and they return.” Ardyn turns and ambles away into the shadows, expecting to have to stalk this man to a Haven without the man’s knowing to make sure he survived the night.

-Does not expect to sense light at his back, look over his shoulder and find Cor following him.

-”This,” drawls Ardyn, “is not the way to a Haven.”

-”I’m not looking for a Haven,” Cor grunts, hand still on his sword hilt but ... willing to talk to this strange human-daemon for now (daemons can’t be captured for testing, so his best option is to ... talk ... with a daemon. how is this his life now.), “I’m looking for you.”

-”Well you found me, now go away. Go back to the stones of safety your Oracles pray over. Go back to your precious Walled off city of kings.” the last sentence is biting and bitter and Ardyn knows it, can feel it in the way the Scourge deepens his voice and makes it sound like the hissing of a thousand monsters right at the end.

-The man does not go away to a Haven or Insomnia. He keeps following Ardyn with a dogged persistence that would be amusing if it wasn’t so frustrating and baffling.

-Ardyn ends up being forced to take shelter in a cave come morning because he’s not revealing that he can hide his Scourge and walk among men to this armed, persistent stranger thank you.

-Cor follows him for like three days and nights straight, harassing him with rude questions and thinly veiled accusations before Ardyn’s temper snaps and he pins Cor to the wall, the Scourge welling up tellingly from his hands like black smoke, ready to Infect at a moment’s notice, “If you want to know my secrets so badly, maybe I should just make you like me.” He snarls and the Scourge snarls with him, cackles in his head at the thought of finally feeding in the way he’s refused to let it since realizing he could infect people with the Scourge.

-There’s a flash of terror in Cor’s eyes, pinned and helpless for the first time since he found Gilgamesh, and as suddenly as Ardyn’s temper rose, it wanes.

-Ardyn drops Cor, shaken but unharmed, turns away with a sigh, “Please. Just leave me be.”

-Cor scrambles up, heart in his throat, and because he is Cor and Stubborn but also so very, very smart, he blurts the realization that’s just hit home, “You were human once.”

-Ardyn stills, but doesn’t turn back toward Cor, “Yes.”

-The single word hurts Cor more than Ardyn’s hands around his throat just seconds ago, “Who were you? You can’t really be the Adagium that was broken out of Angelgard. It was sealed by the Founder King himself.”

-Ardyn sighs like the world is too heavy, and the last thing Cor hears before Ardyn knocks him out is as low, “I was called Ardyn, and I will not be going back in that prison.”

-Cor wakes up on a Haven with a headache and a name and a wild report.

-He tells Regis everything, and he and Regis spend feverish months researching, looking, puzzling and finding inconsistencies in the historical record that have gone unnoticed and unquestioned for 2k years. Regis contacts the Oracles and asks for access to their library and it is there, with a nervous Queen Sylva hoping she has not made a great mistake letting an LC into the Oracle’s libraries, that Regis finally finds- not an answer. But a piece of it.

-Ardyn has almost forgotten about Cor Leonis, the annoying young swordsman who trailed him around for several days and nights, has put the incident behind him and resumed wandering around as King of Night by the moonlight and a simple drifter admiring the sights beneath his many layers of clothing by day.

-Then he stumbles across a group fighting off daemons in the middle of the night and shoos the daemons away before he can register-.

-He stiffens and backs away, reaching for the shadows desperately because he will not be caged and stabbed and betrayed again. He will not be able to control the Scourge screaming in his veins if he is attacked by this again and he doesn’t want to hurt anyone so just go away-.

-”Wait!” Cor Leonis half sprints into the shadows, fearless despite having already been on the near-receiving end of Ardyn’s wrath once, “Wait!”

-Ardyn keeps retreating, heart hammering and afraid.

-“Ardyn Lucis Caelum!”

-Ardyn stills. Doesn’t dare breathe.

-Cor stops and looks over his shoulder at the man who yelled Ardyn’s name. The man with Somnus’s blue eyes and black hair but not his features, who limps hurriedly to Cor’s side, unafraid of the dark and desperately searching the shadows for Ardyn’s shape while their third companion fidgets nervously two steps behind. The man with Somnus’s blue eyes (Somnus’s magic, Ardyn’s magic and it hurts to be so close to it again) swallows hard and calls, “Your name- is Ardyn Lucis Caelum, isn’t it? You were- you are-.” He seems at a loss for words and Ardyn braces for the rest. For Monster and Accursed and Traitor and Adagium.

-”You’re my uncle, are you not? Just- a great many times removed?”

-Ardyn shifts, turns back toward them without meaning to, startles himself by asking hoarsely, “You would call a daemon and the Adagium kin?”

-The man swallows again, but there is something earnest and open in his eyes, something that makes Ardyn think this is not a trap, “Rescuing lost travelers at night is hardly the work of a daemon,” he whispers into the dark, “and I don’t think you- I think there is more to history than I have ever known before. Please,” he begs, begs, a King of Lucis and child of Somnus’s blood drops to his knees in front of Ardyn and begs, “I would ... I would know you. If you let me. I would know the truth.”

-“...The truth?”

-“There is something wrong with the historical records of the Founder’s time, gaps where there shouldn’t be, things that don’t make sense. The Oracles have records of an older brother, of you, but none will say what happened. No one will explain why you... are the way you are.”

-The man takes a deep breath and pleads, “Something is wrong and my son- my son is going to be the one to pay for it unless I find another way. Please-, I know you owe me nothing, and probably do not even want to see another Lucis Caelum after all that has happened, but ... please. Will you tell me your story?”

-And Ardyn ... Ardyn turns back very slowly, steps into the light with hesitant steps and looks down at the young king (young father? Young father of the new Chosen King?). The Scourge in his veins says to kill him, torment him and corrupt him as Ardyn was tormented. The bitter, purely human part of him says to walk away, because he owes this man nothing. Somnus has dug this grave and all his descendants deserve to lie in it.

-The part of him that is Big Brother and Healer and now the Wanderer of the Night that Aids ... slowly crouches down in front of this young king-father, watches pale skin turn paler at the sight of his Scourge yet not flinch away or draw his blade, and Ardyn ... well.

-Ardyn always was too kind for his own good, “What is your name? And the name of your son?”

-”I am Regis, and ... my son is Noctis.”

-Ardyn sighs and sits down on the cold ground, lets his magic, red as blood and rubies, flicker off his fingers in greeting to a relative, “Sit down then, Regis, father of Noctis, for this story was long when I was a child and it has only grown longer now.”

-And Ardyn tells them. Of Draconian blessings and plagues, of healing and dying and being trapped in his own skin as his blood ran black and he kept healing still. Of thrones and betrayals and agony in the endless black until strange soldiers broke him free and he discovered his healing had turned to plague-giving. Of Prophecy and Lies and Truths and the true cost of Crowns.

-Ardyn speaks and Regis listens, and as the sun rises Ardyn does nothing more than tug his hat lower on his head and shift to sit in the dark shade (he does not hide the Scourge, not yet, he does not trust them to know he can look purely human, even if they gape at his staying alive in the daylight), and when Ardyn is done singlehandedly unraveling the foundation of all history Regis has ever known, Ardyn fidgets with his sleeves, acknowledges he will regret this, and offers to ... help. If Regis can uncover a way to end the Scourge without tormenting Ardyn further, Ardyn will in turn help uncover a way to save his son, who is destined to bear the full brunt of Somnus’s sins and the plague of the world.

-Ardyn the Wanderer and Regis the Father-King speak together in the middle of the wilderness with only the Shield and the Sword to overhear, and together all of destiny unravels around them.

Stars Dance

Ch. 17: The Ghosts of Christmas

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 11th Doctor x Original Female Character

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Chapter summary: It's the first Christmas the Doctor and his companions get to spend together after putting the universe back together. Of course the Ponds aren't having the best of their honeymoon, and Lena is terrified of a flying shark...but Avalon does get to reenact one of the most classic Christmas stories to make everything all better!

(Previous chapters) // Sequel Story!! 

Fairy Tale Memoirs (Companion story)

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"I'm not doing it," Avalon crossed her arms as she peered down the chimney of a rather large house, ignoring the pouting Time Lord beside her.

"But it's Christmas!" he sighed in exasperation, gesturing to the chimney that was just begging to be climbed into. He thought this would be something Avalon would literally jump to do. It was part of the classic movies, right? Why was she all frowny in the face then!?

"Yes, and I'm not Santa Claus," Avalon snapped at him. "I am going to take the front door like a proper person." She headed back to the TARDIS when Lena stepped out.

"Guys, Amy and Rory are pretty distressed up in that ship of theirs, what are you both doing here?"

They'd recently gotten a distress call from the newlywed Ponds that the cruise ship the Doctor had brought them to for their honeymoon had entered some sort of problem and the ship was actually going to crash if the clouds in the sky weren't cleared up. Apparently, the clouds were controlled by a family in the planet they found themselves in and for some reason the Doctor thought going down the chimney was the best way to enter the house of the man who controlled the sky.

Avalon felt ready to smack him for being such an...idiot. "Your 'big brother' wants to play Santa Claus and go down that chimney," she sighed.

"Cool!" Lena beamed and shut the doors of the TARDIS before running over to the Doctor, "Can I be one of those helping elves? I think they're so cute."

"No!" Avalon turned to them, gaping at her sister. "Lena, you can't jump into a chimney! Do you know how bad that'll be for your asthma?"

Lena rolled her eyes, "Here we go again," she muttered to the Doctor. She really thought Avalon was finally going to let go of her over-protectiveness and simply have fun. But apparently that was going to be something difficult judging by what they were seeing now.

"It's Christmas," the Doctor called back to Avalon, as if that alone was the perfect excuse, "C'mon, Ava," he hurried up to her, grinning widely, "You're fun, you're...a bit wreckless-"

"I am not!" she huffed and crossed her arms.

"But you're fun," he pointed, "And fun people always take the fun route..." he nodded back to the chimney, "...c'mon, Ava," he poked her hair.

"Don't touch my hair," she closed her eyes with irritation as he continued to do just that, "Don't...Doctor, don't...don't...FINE!" she snapped and startled him enough to back off, "Fine, we'll...play Santa," she huffed again, "But I am not gonna be the elf," she warned.

The Doctor hadn't listened as he'd grabbed her hand and brought them back to the chimney where he peeked again, hearing the loud voice of an elderly man coming below, "Geronimo," he smirked at the twins.

"Not with me you don't," Avalon took back her hand, "You go first and break our fall," she smiled sweetly, hoping that it would make the man realize he was being completely childish and ridiculous and would end up getting hurt.

It was like she didn't know the Doctor at all, thought Lena.

The Doctor clapped his hands together and jumped into the chimney.

"You have got to be kidding me," Avalon sighed while Lena giggled.

"Wonder if he got hurt," Lena peered inside.

"Probably," Avalon shrugged and sighed, "Well...better get it over with," she sighed again, unable to believe she was actually going to do this.

If she still had more space in her journal she would've written about it.

~ 0 ~

The Doctor had fallen down the chimney and managed to land with a perfect somersault on the floor. He stood up to greet an elderly man, a family of four with one daughter and son, and a couple of servants. He dusted the soot off himself and grinned, "Ah! Yes, blimey. Sorry! Christmas Eve on a rooftop, saw a chimney, my whole brain just went, "What the hell!" Don't worry, fat fella will be doing the rounds later. I'm just scoping out the general...chimney-ness. Yes," he leaned against the chimney and smirked when he started hearing the shrieks of the twins.

Avalon came toppling down the chimney first and ended on the ground on her stomach. She groaned and lifted her head up to look at the Doctor, "I hate you."

He absolutely grinned at her soot-covered face. "No you don't!"

"Eek!" Lena came down right after and landed on her back, laughing to herself, "Okay, even I have to admit that was fun."

Now the Doctor softly smiled at his baby sister. His hearts warmed seeing her having so much fun again. She was alive and having fun. He still couldn't get over the fact she was back!

"Sorry," Avalon noticed the others after the Doctor helped her and Lena up. "He wanted to play Santa."

"Santa?" the little boy of the family spoke up.

"Father Christmas," Lena offered another alias, "Santa Claus?"

"Or, as I've always known him, Jeff," the Doctor shrugged.

"Shut up, you do not know Santa Claus," Avalon nearly laughed but got paused when the Doctor gave her a smirk. Her eyes widened - did he know Santa Claus? Wait, was Santa Claus real?

"There's no such person as Father Christmas," the boy shook his head, cutting the silence.

"Oh, yeah?" the Doctor pulled out a small, black and white photo from his inside pocket and walked up to the family, "Me and Father Christmas, Frank Sinatra's hunting lodge, 1952. See him at the back with the blonde...Albert Einstein. The three of us together...vrrroom! Watch out! OK? Keep the faith, stay off the naughty list."

"No way!" Avalon snatched the picture right out of his hand to see for herself. "This is impossible!"

Lena sighed and tapped the Doctor on the shoulder. "We have our friends stuck in a crashing spaceship, remember?"

"Oh, yes," the Doctor quickly ran to a large panel filled with buttons of all kinds, "Now, what's this? And I love this, a big flashy lighty thing - that's what brought me here. Big flashy lighty things have got me written all over them. Not actually, but give me time and a crayon," he sat on the chair in front of the panel and swivels to face the others, "Now, this big flashy lighty thing is connected to the spire in your dome, yeah, and it controls the sky. Well, technically, it controls the clouds, which technically aren't clouds at all," he stood up and walked up to the elderly man, "Well, they're clouds of tiny particles of ice. Ice clouds, love that. Who's she?" he pointed at a silver chamber containing a woman inside.

"Nobody important," the elderly man, Kazran, dismissed.

"That's rude," Lena frowned.

"Do you know, in 900 years of time and space, I've never met anyone who wasn't important before," the Doctor agreed and headed back to the control panel to use the controls, "Now, this console is the key to saving that ship, or I'll eat my hat... if I had a hat. I'll eat someone's hat. Not someone who's using their hat-"

"How about you don't eat anyone's hat and we save Amy and Rory?" Lena raised an eyebrow, making him stop his rambles and see he was once again trailing off into another subject.

"You can't know Santa Claus!" Avalon finally looked up from the picture she'd taken from the Doctor, still unable to wrap her mind around it.

"I do," the Doctor returned and took back his picture, smirking at her. "And those controls aren't working!"

"The controls are isomorphic – one to one - they respond only to me," Kazran informed as he moved up to the Doctor.

"Oh, you fibber... Isomorphic! There's no such thing."

Kazran pulled a switch on the panel and shut down the machine to prove his statement. The Doctor went ahead and used the same switch only to see it wouldn't respond. With a frown, he pulled out his screwdriver and used it over the controls and Kazran. Once he checked the readings he blinked and looked at the others, "These controls are isomorphic!"

"The skies of this entire world are mine. My family tamed them, and now I own them," Kazran explained, getting more and more irritated with the Doctor.

"Tamed the sky? What does that mean?" Lena looked at Avalon, knowing that didn't sound very good for their situation.

"It means I'm Kazran Sardick," Kazran glared at them, "How can you possibly not know who I am?"

"Because we get bored easily," Avalon snapped, not liking the attitude the man had taken with her twin, "Point here is we need your help to save our friends."

"Make an appointment."

"I wasn't asking for your help, I was informing you," Avalon crossed her arms.

"There are 4,003 people in a spaceship trapped in your cloud belt," the Doctor stepped in before the ginger went off with a full temper, "And what my friend is trying to say is that without your help, they're going to die."

"Yes," Kazran nodded.

"I think the correct answer is that you're going to help," Lena spoke up again.

"You don't have to let that happen," the Doctor agreed.

"I know, but I'm going to. Bye-bye. Bored now. ..Chuck!"

Avalon's mouth opened with horror, "You old-"

"I'd watch the tongue," the Doctor pointed at her before she finished her sentence.

"I'll take it under consideration," Avalon mock-glared at him as servants neared them from behind to get them out the door.

The Doctor managed to break free from the servants restraining him and rushed back to Kazran as the man had sat down on his chair, "Ooh, look at you, looking all tough now," the man mocked.

"There are 4,003 people I won't allow to die tonight. Do you know where that puts you?" the Doctor asked.

"Where?"

"4,004."

Kazran let out a small laugh, "Was that a sort of threat-y thing?"

"Whatever happens tonight, remember... you brought it on yourself."

"Yeah, yeah, right. ..Get him out of here," Kazran called to the servants again, "And next time, try and find me some funny poor people."

The Doctor was forced towards the doors along with the twins and family. The little boy took a lump of coal on the ground and threw it Kazran, hitting him on the head. Kazran stood up in anger and headed for the boy with a raised hand to strike with.

"No, stop, don't!" the Doctor struggled to free himself of the servants holding him back.

"Don't you dare! You leave him!" the father of the boy was in the same predicament as the Doctor.

After a moment, Kazran seemed to realize what he was about to do and lowered his hand, "Get him out of here! Get that foul-smelling family out of here! Out!"

Although the family was taken, the Doctor remained in the house, nodding for the twins to go ahead and leave as well. He waited a moment until Kazran noticed he was still there.

"What? What do you want?" Kazran rolled his eyes with irritation.

"A simple life," the Doctor shrugged, "But you didn't hit the boy."

"Well, I will next time!"

"No, you see, you won't. Now why? What am I missing?" the Doctor turned and started to focus on the details of the house.

"Get out! Get out of this house!" Kazran shooed him off to no avail.

"The chairs! Of course, the chairs! Stupid me, the chairs!" the Doctor smacked his own forehead.

"The chairs?"

"There's a portrait on the wall behind me. Looks like you, but it's too old, so it's your father. All the chairs are angled away from it," the Doctor gestured to each chair facing the portraits away, "Daddy's been dead for 20 years. But you still can't get comfortable where he can see you. There's a Christmas tree in the painting, but none in this house, on Christmas Eve. You're scared of him and you're scared of being like him. And good for you, you're not like him, not really. Do you know why?"

"Why?" Kazran blinked.

"Because you didn't hit the boy. Merry Christmas, Mr Sardick."

"I despise Christmas!"

"You shouldn't," the Doctor headed for the doors, "It's very you."

"It's what? What do you mean?"

"Halfway out of the dark," the Doctor mumbled as he finally left.

~ 0 ~

The Doctor and the twins were outside of Kazran's home where they spoke to Amy and Rory on the phone. Up in the ship things were growing more and more frantic and so it was no surprise that the first thing Amy said to the group below was, "Have you got a plan yet?"

"Yes, I do," the Doctor answered almost immediately, prompting Amy to respond with...

"Are you lying?"

"Yes, I am," the Doctor bowed his head.

"Don't treat me like an idiot," Amy snapped.

"OK, the good news. I've tracked the machine that unlocks the cloud belt. I could use it to clear you a flight corridor and you could land easily."

Avalon took the phone from the Doctor and scolded him, "Don't give false hope," she rolled her eyes and spoke into the phone, "He can't control the machine, Amy."

"Less great," Amy sighed.

"But I've met a man who can," the Doctor shouted into the phone, making Avalon flinch with his voice right beside her ear.

"Ah, well, there you go!" Amy cheered.

"And he hated you," Avalon reminded the Doctor who stuck his tongue out at her for ruining it again.

"Let me guess, he was being extra charming and clever?" Amy sighed.

"To the max," Avalon nodded even though Amy couldn't see it.

"Say what you want but all I heard is that you thought I was being charming and extra clever," the Doctor pointed at Avalon with a smirk.

"Oh don't get too riled up on that," Avalon looked at him with a smirk of her own, "That was my own Christmas present for you, one nice lie."

The Doctor frowned and pointed at her again when Lena cut in, "Alright, stop it." She looked at both with a scolding face before she took the phone from Avalon.

"Sir, sir," the father of the family they'd been thrown out with came towards the group.

"Hang on," the Doctor told the twins and met with the father, shaking his hand.

"I've never seen anybody stand up to Mr Sardick like that," the father remarked, "Bless you, sir, and merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas. Lovely," the Doctor nodded.

"But a bit busy," Avalon reminded.

"You'd better get inside, though," the father warned.

"Why?" Avalon asked as she looked around.

"The fog's thick tonight, and there's a fish warning."

At that, the trio gave the father an odd look, "The fish?" they asked together.

"Yeah," the father nodded, "You know what they're like when they get a bit hungry."

"Yeah, fish, I know fish," the Doctor looked at the twins, "Fish?" both sisters shrugged in confusion.

"It's all Mr Sardick's fault, I reckon. He always lets a few fish through the cloud layer when he's in a bad mood," the father shrugged, "Thank you. Bless you once again, sir," and with that he hurried on out.

"I'm sorry but did he just say fish?" Avalon scratched her head.

"OI!" they heard Amy's voice from the phone, "The Captain says we've got less than an hour. What should we be doing?"

"Uh, hang on..." Lena said to her while she and the other two looked around and saw small fish swimming around a streelight as if they were moths.

"Fish," the Doctor blinked.

"Fish that can swim in fog?" Avalon frowned, "That's a real thing?"

"How's that for impression Miss Reynolds?" the Doctor shot her back a smirk.

"Now I feel terrible for my lousy present," she playfully rolled her eyes.

He shook his head and stepped closer to the fish, "Now, why would people be frightened of you tiny little fellas?" he held up his hand and let the fish go near it, "Look at you, sweet little fishy-wishies. Mind you, fish in the fog, so the cloud cover... Ooh. Careful up there."

"Big brother, Amy's very adamant about being saved," Lena called, holding the phone from her ear as the ginger shouted over it, "And she says they've got less than an hour."

"I know,' the Doctor mumbled as he glanced at a nearby clock.

"Then best stop messing around with the 'fishy wishys' and get to work," Avalon clapped her hands to get the attention off the fish.

"Big Brother, it's Amy again," Lena sighed, her ear partially ringing from the loud tone Amy was taking with her.

"Oh alright, let's see," the Doctor started pacing as he thought, "Can't use the TARDIS, cos it can't lock on. So that ship needs to land, but it can't land unless a very bad man suddenly decides to turn nice, just in time for Christmas Day!"

"Oh!" Avalon suddenly squealed, startling him and Lena, even Amy as the phone had gone quiet for a moment.

"What?" the Doctor looked back to see her clapping her hands excitedly with a huge smile.

"I got it! I got the plan!" she cheered, "Don't you hear the singing?" she gestured to the speakers of the town that were playing a Christmas song, "A Christmas Carol! A Christmas Carol! A Christmas Carol!"

"I'm scared," the Doctor looked at Lena, never seeing the ginger acting like such a...ray of sunshine? If that even made sense.

"Me too," Lena admitted as she stared at her squealing twin.

"We have to do this," Avalon ran up to the Doctor who instinctively took steps back, "Oh please, oh please, oh please!?" she clapped her hands together, "A Christmas Carol is one of the best stories I've read!"

"That's great...what does it have to do with this though?" the Doctor asked, taking one more step back for caution.

"You said it yourself!" Avalon laughed, "How do we turn a man who's been bitter and mean his entire life? A Christmas Carol!"

The Doctor blinked as he finally got what the ginger was so excited about. Of course, a story, a classic story that Avalon loved. She had the opportunity to play out an entire story...on Christmas...of course she was squealing and clapping about it. That made more sense.

"You are clever," he concluded, "Well done," he did a mock-bow, making her laugh.

"Can someone explain to me, please?" Lena came up to them, "And perhaps Amy?" she held the phone between them, "She's yelling again," she whispered.

~ 0 ~

The Doctor and the twins managed to sneak back into Kazran's house, after the servants had 'luckily' won the lottery. The Doctor set up a projection of a young Kazran while the current, elder Kazran slept. With a loud shout of his father in the

projection, the current Kazran awoke with a startle. He was stunned to see the projection of his younger self talking about the fish in the skies when his father came in...and struck him. He quickly stood up from his chair and rushed up to the wall where the projection played.

The trio had entered the room without Kazran noticing and the Doctor cautiously walked up to him and set a hand on his shoulder, "It's OK. It's OK."

Kazran jumped and turned around, angrily shouting, "What have you done? What is this?"

"Found it on an old drive. Sorry about the picture quality, had to recover the data using quantum enfolding and a paperclip," the Doctor stepped back as the twins joined him.

"Oh, I wouldn't bother calling your servants, they quit. Apparently they won the lottery at exactly the same time," Lena crossed her arms with an innocent smile, "Which is a bit lucky when you think about it."

"There isn't a lottery," Kazran pointed at her violently.

"Extra lucky," Avalon remarked as she plopped down in Kazran's chair.

"Who are you?"

Avalon smirked and looked at her sister and the Doctor, "I've always wanted to do this, eek," she took a breath and got into character before she leaned back on her chair, "Tonight, I am the Ghost Of Christmas Past," she dramatically waved her hands.

The Doctor playfully rolled his eyes at her, glad to see she was at least beginning to have some actual fun, "Did you ever get to see a fish back then, when you were a kid?" he asked Kazran who scoffed.

"What does that matter to you?"

"Look how it mattered to you," Lena softly said, gazing back at the projection where the young Kazran cried.

"I cried all night, and I learned life's most invaluable lesson," Kazran turned to her with a dark look in his eyes.

"Which is?"

"Nobody comes. Get out!" he startled them with his shouts, "Get out of my house!"

"Okay, okay, but we'll be back," the Doctor warned as he gathered his two companions and brought them behind him, "Way back, way, way back," they moved to the door where the projection played, the TARDIS waiting behind.

Kazran heard the wheezing sound of the TARDIS slowly leave his house...only to be heard again in his younger self's room...

~ 0 ~

The Doctor excitedly opened the window of young Kazran's bedroom, "See? Back!" he shouted to the recorder young Kazran had on his desk.

"Nice, Doctor, just enter a boy's room without greetings and introductions," Avalon came through the window next and helped Lena last.

"Who are you?" young Kazran asked them all, debating whether he should start calling for help.

"Right," the Doctor agreed with Avalon's statement and turned to the boy, "Hi, I'm the Doctor, that's Avalon and her sister Lena. We're your new babysitters."

"Where's Mrs Mantovani?"

"Oh, you'll never guess!" the Doctor hopped onto Kazran's bed and started jumping on it, "Clever old Mrs Manters, she only went and won the lottery!"

"There isn't any lottery," Kazran frowned and looked at the women.

"She got extra lucky," Avalon shrugged then looked at the Doctor with a sigh, "And so your dad got a babysitter that acts younger than you."

Lena laughed as the Doctor stopped jumping and let himself fall on the bed with a small bounce afterwards, "I would've liked one like that," she shrugged.

Kazran checked his open window and frowned, "If you're my babysitters, why were you climbing in the window?"

"That is a very good point," Avalon mused for an excuse and glanced at the Doctor, "Doctor?"

"Need saving again?" he smirked and raised an eyebrow, earning a mock-glare back, "The answer is simple, really," he turned to Kazran, the boy still expecting an answer, "Because if we were climbing out, we'd be going in the wrong direction. Pay attention."

"Smooth," Avalon rolled her eyes.

"Mrs Mantovani's always my babysitter," Kazran slowly said, still unsure they were actual babysitters.

"Times change," the Doctor peered into the camera, "Wouldn't you say? You see... Christmas Past."

"Who are you talking to?" Kazran frowned.

"You," the Doctor pointed, "Now, your past is going to change. That means your memories will too. Scary, but you'll get the hang of it."

"I don't understand," Kazran turned to the women again, wondering what kind of answer he'd be getting from them.

"I'll bet you don't! I wish I could see your face!" the Doctor exclaimed as he pointed between Kazran and the camera.

"And you're scaring him," Avalon pushed down his finger, "Quit it."

"Yeah, maybe we should focus on the plan," even Lena agreed that the boy looked a bit frightened and confused.

"Right then," the Doctor finally focused and looked around, "Your bedroom. Great! Let's see, you're 12 years old, so we'll stay away from under the bed. Cupboard! Big cupboard, I love a cupboard," he ran up to said cupboard and opened it up, poking his head inside.

"What've you been doing inside cupboards, Fairy Tale Man?" Avalon smirked, even making Lena giggle when the Doctor nearly slipped inside from her comment.

"Ava!" he turned around, a scowl on his face as the two sisters laugh.

"I don't get it," Kazran said to the Doctor, thinking it must have been a girl thing as the women kept laughing.

"Good," the Doctor pointed at him then sighed, "So what are we going to do? Eat crisps and talk about girls? I've never actually done that, but I bet it's easy. Girls! Yeah?"

"I'm not so sure you can do that," Avalon looked at Lena with another laugh wanting to slip out.

"Shut up!" he pointed at her.

"Are you really babysitters?" Kazran had to question again, "You keep arguing..."

"Bantering," Lena corrected with an amused smile.

"Wish it would stop," the Doctor shot Avalon a look before he pulled out his psychic paper and held it to Kazran, "I think you'll find I'm universally recognized as a mature and responsible adult."

Kazran looked at the paper and tilted his head, "It's just a lot of wavy lines."

The Doctor took a look and raised his eyebrows, "Hm, it's shorted out..." he looked up at Avalon who was biting her lip with a smile that was threatening to turn into another laugh. She was making the effort not to laugh but the psychic paper had really done it this time. "Oh alright, have at it!" the Doctor rolled his eyes, resigned to another round of bantering.

Avalon instantly burst into laughter that could probably be heard a mile off. "You shorted out a paper designed to lie to everyone about anything! This is too good!" She clutched her stomach, her face beginning to match the color of her hair from how much she was laughing.

The Doctor huffed after a few minutes. "Okay that's enough!" But Avalon kept going. Her legs almost buckled that she had to go near the bed to keep her footing. The Doctor followed her wobbly walk with another huff. "Ava, c'mon! Stop it!"

"I don't think she can..." Lena remarked, genuinely surprised to see that side of Avalon. She'd seen Avalon laugh, sure, but not even Rory had made her laugh that much, "...well done, big brother," she looked at him with a big grin.

"Welcome...sure..." the Doctor wasn't paying attention as he was focused on the ginger making fun of him, "I know someone who's getting coal for Christmas."

"I never get anything anyways," Avalon wiped some tears from her eyes, "Woah, that was a fun," she glanced at young Kazran, "Sorry about that, kid. Now then, you're right...pretty clear we're not real babysitters."

"That's an understatement," he crossed his arms.

"Oh, smart boy," she raised an eyebrow and straightened up, "Then I can tell you right now that we're gonna be much cooler than a regular babysitter who gives you a bedtime."

"And how are you going to do that?"

"Doctor," Avalon pointed at him, "You're going to show the kid the fish he wants to see."

"You don't have to point," he moved over and pushed her finger down, "But she's right," he nodded to Kazran, "It's going to be fish time!"

"Mind you, that's a bit strange," Lena thought about the creatures, "There's fish in the fog and the clouds..."

"My dad's invented a machine to control the cloud belt. Tame the sky, he says. The fish'll be able to come down, but only when we let them," Kazran said what he'd been told so many times, "We can charge whatever we like."

"Yeah, we've seen your dad's machine," the Doctor sighed, "Big, bad machine," he mumbled.

"Why would you charge, though?" Avalon asked, "Wouldn't it be fun to just let the fish down for everyone to enjoy? C'mon, fish? In the air?"

"Well technically," the Doctor began, "It's-" but he received Avalon's hand on his mouth.

"Like I was saying," she shot him an irritated look, no one needed to know the technicalities of the fish, "We can see a fish right now, and I won't charge you a thing for it," she tapped Kazran on the nose with her free hand.

Kazran raised an eyebrow, "Aren't you going to tell me it's dangerous?"

The Doctor pushed Avalon's hand down and looked at him, "The woman's been to jail many times, she's way past playing the goody too-shoes."

"He's right," Avalon agreed.

"But it's still dangerous," Lena had to remind as she moved closer.

"Dangerous!?" the Doctor raised an eyebrow and stepped beside Kazran, "We're boys," he put an arm around Kazran's shoulders, "And you know what boys say in the face of danger."

"What?" Lena looked at Avalon who already had a hand over her forehead, just knowing the Doctor would come up with something utterly stupid like...

"Mummy!" the Doctor grinned.

"And there we go," Avalon looked up and shook his head at them, "And then the girls-" she pointed at Lena and herself, "-will have to come and save your sorry behinds."

And so, the Doctor's screwdriver had a string tired around it and was hung in the center of Kazran's room, the string rigged up and going through the cupboard door where inside the Doctor held onto it. Kazran sat beside him while the twins across, the camera that would allow the older Kazran to see, being held by Lena.

"Are there any spiders in here?" Lena whispered to Avalon since she was deadly afraid of the creatures.

"No," she shushed her, for they had to be quiet.

"Are you afraid of spiders, baby sister?" the Doctor raised an eyebrow.

"Don't encourage it," Avalon sighed, "Why don't we ask Kazran why he likes the fish so much instead of poking at the fears of Lena?"

"I like that idea," Lena meekly nodded.

"Cos they're scary," Kazran went ahead and answered as he saw how pale the brunette woman looked just at the talks of spiders.

"That's a good answer," the Doctor pointed.

"What kind of tie is that?" Kazran looked at his bow-tie with a face that didn't exactly spell 'like'.

"A cool one," the Doctor tweaked his bow-tie.

"Why is it cool?"

"It's not," Avalon whispered, making the boy chuckle.

"Avalon," the Doctor sounded like he was pleading for her to stop.

The ginger playfully rolled her eyes, "So why are you really interested in fish?" she decided to give the man a break for the moment.

"My school. During the last fog belt, the nets broke and there was an attack. Loads of them, a whole shoal. No-one was hurt, but it was the most fish ever seen below the mountains."

"Were you scared?" Lena wondered, knowing she would probably be screaming about with terror if something like that happened.

"I wasn't there. I was off sick."

"Ooh, lucky you. Not lucky?" the Doctor observed the boy's disappointment.

"It's all anyone ever talks about now, the day the fish came. Everyone's got a story."

"But you don't," Avalon gave a small smile.

"Why are you recording this?" Kazran looked at Lena curiously.

"Do you pay attention at school, Kazran?" the Doctor asked.

"Sorry, what?"

"Cos you're not paying attention now," the Doctor's finger was tugged towards the door via the string, "Sh!" he quickly said as he stood up.

"Doctor, are you sure about that?" Kazran watched the man, debating whether he should stand or not.

"Trust me."

"Okay..."

"Oi! Eyes on the tie. Look at me. I wear it and I don't care. Trust me?"

"Yes," Kazran nodded and looked at the twins.

"That's why it's cool," the Doctor smirked to himself.

"It usually works out fine," Avalon gave a shrug, assuming what the boy was going to ask, "Just be ready to pull him back when he gets into trouble."

The Doctor had taken that as another sarcastic remark and was about to make a comeback...when he realized that had actually been something true. He shrugged and focused back on the doors, "Stay inside..."

"Now are you sure that's the best choice?" this time even Lena was hesitant to let him go out on his own.

"Listen to your sister, baby sister," the Doctor looked back, "And just be ready to pull me out when I get into trouble."

With that the Doctor slowly entered the bedroom and closed the cupboard, seeing the small fish repeatedly hitting his screwdriver, "Hello, fishy. Let's see. Interesting. Crystalline fog, eh? Maybe carrying a tiny electrical charge. Is that how you fly, little fishy?"

"What is it? What kind? Can I see?" Kazran gently knocked on the cupboard to be heard.

"Just stay there a moment."

"Is it big?"

"Nah, just a little one," the Doctor moved closer to the fish, about to try and touch it, "So, little fella, what do you eat?"

And then a shark zoomed into the room and swallowed whole the small fish along with part of the screwdriver.

"How little?" Kazran's voice was heard again.

"Erm..." the Doctor had jerked away from the shark.

"Is it time to pull you back inside, now?" Avalon inquired, the Doctor a bit surprised she'd pick up on the change of mood.

"No, no. Maybe just...wait there for a moment," he tried to play it 'cool' as he slowly made his way towards the cupboard.

"Don't think you can pull one over me, fairy tale man," Avalon warned.

"Yup, sorry," he swallowed and ran the rest of the way back to the cupboard, hastily leaning against the shut doors as the shark banged from the other side.

"What did you do!?" Avalon frowned and tried helping him keep the doors shut while Lena brought Kazran back with her.

"Well, concentrating on the plusses, Kazran's definitely got a story of his own now," the Doctor tried to smile but the shark was getting tougher and tougher, "Also, I got a good look at the fish, and I understand the fog, which'll help me land a spaceship in the future, and save a lot of lives. And I'll get some readings off my sonic screwdriver when I get it off the shark in the bedroom."

"There's a shark in my bedroom?" Kazran gaped, his eyes wide as could be.

"Oh, fine, focus on that part!" the Doctor rolled his eyes.

"It stopped," Avalon whispered and stood off the door.

"What's it doing, then?" Lena trembled with the eery silence that now laid around them.

"What do you call it if you don't have any feet, and you're taking a run-up?" the Doctor asked.

"Oh, this is no time for-"

The Doctor didn't wait for the finish of Avalon's words as he grabbed her and pulled her to the others, both falling a bit too close to with each other, while Lena and Kazran had fallen beside them. They looked at each other with mesmerization, even forgetting about a pending danger literally in front of them. Avalon then recalled her newest dreams and blushed like mad.

"It's going to eat us!" came Lena's cry, startling them back to reality.

Avalon cleared her throat and shuffled to turn away from the Doctor and to her twin, "Not on my watch," she managed to say, "Is that your screwdriver, Doctor?"

"Hm?" the Doctor blinked and looked at the shark that was stuck in the doorway with its mouth open with a green glow inside, "Oh, look at that..."

"That looks in reach, right?"

"Are you actually going to stick your hand inside that shark?" Kazran had seen where the woman was headed with her words and gawked.

"Lesson number one, kid, girls are so much better than boys," Avalon shot him a smirk.

"Ah, you will not be doing any of that," the Doctor kept her back as soon as she tried moving forwards, "My screwdriver, my arms," he gestured.

"Fine, but after two goes it's my turn," she gestured to her own arms, "And then Lena...and then Kazran..."

"Get the screwdriver!" Lena cried again, horrified to think of putting her arms inside a shark. She now recalled why exactly she didn't want to keep traveling.

"Right then! OK. Geronimo! Open wide," the Doctor took a breath and moved for the shark.

~ 0 ~

After managing to get his screwdriver back, the Doctor had gotten the rest of the group out into the patio outside Kazran's bedroom, the shark seemingly weaker all of a sudden. It had tried to make a move on them again but after entering the patio, it had slowly fallen to the ground and remained there.

Worried, Kazran moved to its side along with Lena, while Avalon stayed behind them just in case the creature tried to do anything more.

Meanwhile, the Doctor stood a bit to the side, checking his meek piece of screwdriver, "What's the big fishy done to you? Swallowed half of you, that's what. Half a screwdriver, what use is that? Bad, big fishy."

"Doctor? I think she's dying," Kazran called quietly, not wanting to startle the shark.

"Half my screwdriver's still inside, but yeah, I think so," he turned around, "I doubt they can survive long outside the cloud belt. Just quick raiding trips on a foggy night."

"Can't we get it back up there?" Kazran began sniffling, "We were just going to stun it. I didn't want to kill it."

"She was trying to eat you, Kazran," Avalon pointed out the events that had led to the shark's demise, "All of us..."

"She was hungry," the boy defended.

"I'm sorry, Kazran. We can't save her," the Doctor walked over, "I could take her back up there, but she'd never survive the trip. We need a fully functioning life-support."

At that, Kazran looked up with new sudden hope, "You mean like an icebox? OK."

And that was how the trio found themselves chasing after the boy, running down the stairs while Kazran only grew farther away, now even carrying a lamp to lead the way.

On their way to wherever Kazran led there was a large, decorated Christmas tree where the Doctor had to stop and gawk at, "Ooh, a tree!"

"C'mon," Avalon rolled her eyes as she walked past him, yanking him by the arm after her.

Kazran had taken the group into the basement of the house where a large, metal door with a security keypad on the side blocked their way into a new room full of ice by the glimpse they got from a small window. As the Doctor took a better look he saw the room was covered in ice and full of chambers like the one he'd seen earlier.

"What is this?" he asked Kazran with curiosity.

"The surplus population. That's what my dad calls it."

"Well that's nice," Avalon blinked.

Kazran was trying to turn the wheel for the door to open, even Lena trying to help as she thought the boy would need some extra strength. Unfortunately, the wheel wouldn't work, "Oh, it's not turning! Oh, why won't it turn?" Kazran stepped back while the Doctor used his remnant of a screwdriver on the keypad.

"Ah, what's the number?" he saw the keypad asking for the security code.

Kazran shrugged, "I don't know!"

"This place is full of alarms, it's not just the door. I need the number!"

"I'm not allowed to know until I'm older."

The Doctor huffed and ran out without a word, leaving Kazran to call after him.

"He'll be back," Avalon assured as she moved up to the window to take a look.

Just like Avalon assured, the Doctor had come back running only a minute after he'd left, hollering, "7258!" repeatedly.

Lena hurried to the keypad and typed in the numbers, opening the doors for them. Together, they entered the cold room full of thicker fog, Kazran once again taking the lead and sprinting over to a specific chamber.

"Ah, there's fish down here, too," the Doctor looked around as small fishes swam around them.

"Yeah, but only tiny ones. The house is built on a fog lake. That's how Dad freezes the people," Kazran stopped in front of a chamber, "They're all full, but we could borrow one," he pointed at the chamber he stood by, "Yeah, this one."

The Doctor held up the lamp they'd carried in to the chamber's window and saw it was the woman the family had been arguing over, "Hello again," he whispered.

"You know her?" Kazran looked at them all, seeing the similar expressions on each of their faces.

"What is so important about her?" Avalon wondered and blinked, "Sorry, that came out completely wrong," she amended her error with embarrassment, "I meant why this specific chamber? What's the significance?"

"She won't mind. She loves the fish," Kazran quickly typed in a number into the woman's chamber's keypad, starting a holographic video on the window of the chamber for them.

"My name is Abigail Pettigrew, and I'm very grateful for Mr Sardick's kindness. My father..."

"She starts to talk about the fish in a minute," Kazran assured with excitement.

"…but I would not allow it. I could not have chosen this path were it not for the compassion and generosity of the great philanthropist and patron of the poor, Mr Elliot Sardick, but I'm also surrounded by the fish, the beautiful, iridescent, magical fish..."

While the video played, the Doctor took the lamp with him and made a small walk around the other chambers nearby, "Why are these people here? What's all this for?"

Kazran sighed, "My dad lends money. He always takes a family member as... He calls it security."

"Hard man to love, your dad," Lena made a face and looked down at the boy, "But I suppose you know that." She thanked the heavens she had been given the type of father she had. He never struck her nor her siblings and always gave the best he could for them all.

Kazran had pressed more buttons on Abigail's chamber and lighted it up, activating the defrosting, "What's wrong?" he looked over at the Doctor who had been tampering with his screwdriver again.

"Just my half a screwdriver trying to repair itself. It's signalling the other half..."

The twins looked at each other with concerned looks, the same looks slowly making its way onto Kazran's and the Doctor's faces.

"The other half's inside the shark," Avalon breathed.

"Yeah. Sounds like she's woken up," the Doctor nodded, "OK. So it's homing on the screwdriver..."

The shark reappeared with its mouth open for another attack. The group quickly dispersed and ran off as the shark tried to attack once more, some of the chambers were even knocked down with the attempts. While each of them had taken a position to hide in, a new voice had taken over the entire vault room, a singer. With the singing, the shark seemed to have retreated from its attacks and so the group was able to come out of hiding and go check what/who was singing.

It was Abigail, who'd come out of her chamber, and was now singing to the shark, the creature at her side in a complete calm manner.

"It's not really the singing, of course," the Doctor began once he'd rejoined the group, all standing several feet away from Abigail.

"Yes, it is," Lena observed the manner in which all the fishes seemed to grow close to Abigail.

"Nah, baby sister..."

"The fish love the singing, it's true," Kazran agreed.

"Nah. The notes resonate in the ice, causing a delta wave pattern in the fog," but the Doctor stopped with a slap on the back of his neck, "Ow! A fish bit me."

"Shut up, then," Avalon smirked, guessing the fish had meant for him to be quiet so they could hear what they wanted.

"Of course!" the Doctor didn't seem to capture the message, "That's how the machine controls the cloud belt. The clouds are ice crystals. If you vibrate them at the right frequency, you could align them..." he slapped the back of his neck again, "Ow! Why do they keep biting me?"

Kazran rolled his eyes and looked up at him, "Look, the fish like the singing, OK? Now shut up!"

"Okay," the Doctor grumbled and finally stayed quiet like everyone seemed to want.

~ 0 ~

Once the shark had been placed into Abigail's chamber, the group, now with Abigail, had gone into the TARDIS. Upon entering, Abigail and Kazran had fallen into shock of the dimensions of the box.

"It's bigger on the inside," Kazran turned around in a circle.

"Yeah, it's the colour. Really knocks the walls back," the Doctor tapped the chamber on the floor.

"I don't think that's what he meant," Avalon gave him a look.

"Anyways,"" he rolled his eyes, "Shark in a box, to go," he ran to the console to set the box in motion.

Abigail was taking several steps around the room to gaze at every detail of the bigger place, "This is...amazing!"

"Nah, this is transport," the Doctor played innocent, "I keep amazing...out here," he ran for the doors and flung them open to allow them the view of millions of fish swimming among the cloud belt.

"Now that's just showing off," Avalon shook her head but nonetheless ran for the doorway to look out.

"Point one: big brother," Lena congratulated the Doctor as he returned for the chamber, chuckling to herself as Avalon poked her head out the doorway along with Kazran and Abigail.

The Doctor smirked to himself as he punched in numbers on the chamber, "Come on, then, let's get this shark out."

It was only a couple minutes when the shark was finally able to return back to its home with the other fish.

"Hey, look at her go!" Kazran cheered and laughed.

As the Doctor went to close the chamber he saw a couple numbers on the front of it, not belonging to any security code, "Abigail, this number, what does it mean?" he assumed she would know best.

"It pertains to me, sir, not the fish," Abigail tried to keep the smile she'd had since she stepped out of the chamber as best she could.

"Yeah, but how?"

She stepped towards him, slightly sheepish, "You are a doctor, you say? Are you one of mine?"

"Do you need a doctor?"

The bell chiming at the console broke through the conversation and made the Doctor hurry back to to the console.

"Ah! Sorry! Time's up, kids!"

"Why?" Avalon looked back with genuine disappointment, only making the Doctor smirk again of triumph.

"It's nearly Christmas Day," he informed and looked away before he was caught.

~ 0 ~

Abigail and her chamber were brought back to the Ice Vault to resume her 'sleep'. Abigail gave a small, genuine smile at the group, "If you should ever wish to visit again..."

"Well, you know, we're ever in the neighborhood..." the Doctor began to say when Kazran cut in.

"They come every Christmas Eve. Yeah, they do, every time. They promise!"

"We do?" Lena looked over at the Doctor, confused.

"No, we don't..." the Doctor blinked, confused himself, as Kazran closed Abigail's chamber's door.

But it had already been decided, apparently, that he and the twins would come back every year on Christmas Eve for Kazran ans Abigail. The Doctor hoped that by doing this they would be able to help Amy and Rory in the future with Kazran now a good man. So, every year, Abigail was greeted by him, Kazran, and the twins and was taken out to celebrate Christmas Eve. Beginning with a shark - carriage flight throughout the sky and to the rest of time and space. Young Kazran ended up growing up with each visit the Doctor and the twins made, entering his early teens ans finding a new, shy, personality...and a bow-tie.

While Abigail and the older Kazran walked (slowly) towards the console, the Doctor and the twins were battling it out to see where exactly they would be headed for this Christmas.

"You've grown," Abigail tried to be as discreet as possible.

Kazran gave a small nod, "Yeah."

"And now you're blushing," Abigail chuckled.

"Sorry," Kazran looked away.

"That's OK," Abigail shrugged.

"So, Doctor, where this time?" Kazran quickly looked at rhe others in hopes of ending the awkward conversation.

"Weeell..." Avalon discreetly walked around the console, "I've got Hollywood in mind!" she beamed excitedly.

"And I just want a snowy place," Lena remarked.

"And I've got time and space," the Doctor smirked.

"Might I make a request?" Abigail sheepishly stepped up.

"Of course," the Doctor moved over to them.

"This one," Abigail nodded.

~ 0 ~

After Abigail made her request, the Doctor brought them to her sister's house, the family that had been pleading for Abigail's release in the future. The blonde stood in front of a window of her sister's house, wearing a cloak over her. Off to the side stood the rest of the group, watching her begin to quietly cry.

"Who are they?" Kazran didn't understand why they stood in a random street.

"Her family. The lady's her sister," the Doctor answered, "We met her once, when she was...older."

"Abigail's crying," Kazran whispered.

"I think we've noticed," Avalon crossed her arms.

"When girls are crying, are you supposed to talk to them?"

"I've learned it helps," the Doctor glanced at Avalon with a small smile.

She caught the words and shared a look with him, "Yeah, it does..." she whispered with her own smile.

Lena looked between them and assumed it must be something while she'd been 'dead'. She had to admit it was a bit odd to see them closer, even their bantering had changed. Still, she preferred them this way than the early days. She turned to Kazran, about to suggest he go and talk to Abigail when she realized he was already doing that, "Smart guy," she smiled and then gasped, "Do you know what we should do?"

"What did you have in mind, baby sister?" the Doctor wondered, seeing her overly excitedly about something.

"Christmas with the family! C'mon!" Lena took his hand and Avalon's, rushing them for Abigail's sister's house.

~ 0 ~

Christmas Eve had been moved to be celebrated with Abigail's family. Although it was a strange for Abigail sister, Isabel, to see her sister with Kazran and time travelers, she had accepted Abigail right away. And while the two sisters caught up, Kazran had taken to helping Isabel's husband with the house decorations while the Doctor and the twins entertained the children.

The Doctor held up playing cards for the son, "Pick a card, any card at all. Memorize the card, put it back in the deck. Don't let me see it," the son took a card and studied it for a minute then returned it to the deck. The Doctor then took a card out and held it for the boy to see, "The three of clubs."

"No," the boy shook his head.

"You sure? I'm very good at card tricks," the Doctor made a face at the card he'd pulled out.

"It wasn't the three of clubs."

"Well, of course it wasn't," the Doctor chucked the card to the side, "Because it was the seven of diamonds!"

"No," the boy looked at the card with amusement.

"Oi, stop it, you're doing it wrong," the Doctor set the cards down with a huff.

"It's not his fault you're a bad card player," Avalon took a seat beside the boy and picked up the deck.

"Oh, and you can do better?"

Avalon raised an eyebrow, accepting the challenge, "Tell you what, let's make this interesting," she motioned for the son to move over so she could take his place.

"How so?" the Doctor curiously asked as she shuffled the cards.

"I wouldn't do that, big brother," Lena came over as soon as she saw Avalon shuffling playing cards.

"You place your wager and I'll say mine," Avalon smirked.

"Anything I want?" the Doctor ignored Lena's warnings. This was sounding pretty interesting and he could never resist anything interesting.

"Anything," Avalon assured him, her smirk widening once she knew he was hooked. Sucks for him because I always win.

"Fine," the Doctor officially agreed. "If I win, you stop all your sarcastic remarks for the rest of Christmas Eve and Day. No making fun of me at all."

"Difficult, but manageable," Avalon nodded, "I'll take it. But if I win..." she eyed him for a minute as she thought of what she could possibly want from him. She soon noticed the watch on his wrist. He always wore that thing even when he barely looked at the time. "I get your watch."

The Doctor immediately held his wrist wearing the watch to his chest. It was his favorite watch. Yes, he didn't really use it but it was a really cool watch. Why would Avalon want that? To make me suffer that's why, he rolled his eyes.

"Don't do this, please," Lena bent down beside them, almost begging them to stop altogether. But if she was being honest, she knew that they were practically the same person. Both Avalon and the Doctor craved adventure even in the smallest of places...like a stupid card game with a bet.

"Well?" Avalon raised an eyebrow at the Doctor. "Scared of little ole me?"

The Doctor scoffed and lowered his hands to his lap. "It's a deal." He shook hands with Avalon, truly making it official.

"Guys..." Lena tried again but Avalon was already shuffling the cards.

"Same rules go for the game," Avalon warned the Doctor, "Pick a card and study it, put it back and I'll pick out that same card."

"I know how the game works," the Doctor rolled his eyes as he pulled out a card, showing it to Lena, "Lena will be our cheater detector."

"I'm not gonna cheat," Avalon shook her head and held the deck for him to return his card. She shuffled them again and took out a card, "Was this your card?"

The Doctor blinked when he saw his card being held in front of him. "How did...?" he snatched the card from her and turned it around. She couldn't have done it! It was impossible! "That...that is..."

"Hand over the watch, Fairy Tale Man," Avalon chuckled as she set down the deck between them. He was utterly shocked. It was too priceless! "I wish I had a camera right now!"

"That was...but...no!" the Doctor snapped, throwing his card to the side.

"I did warn you not to do it," Lena sighed. "She's a very good card player."

"How did you do that!?" the Doctor was narrowing his eyes on Avalon, searching for anything on her that would prove she hadn't played an honest game. You cheated!"

"Like I said, it's not our fault you don't know how to play," Avalon wiggled her fingers at him. "Watch, now, please."

"Lena!"

"I'm gonna go help decorate," Lena cautiously stood up and hurried away, preferring to stay out of it.

"Hand it over, fairy tale man," Avalon insisted.

"You cheated," the Doctor pointed at her.

"No, I'm just really good at cards!"

"How do you even know how to play!?"

"My Dad taught me," Avalon smirked. "So cough it up."

The Doctor glared for a minute before finally removing his watch from his wrist. A deal was a deal no matter how badly he wanted to take it back. Avalon held her left hand out and watched with giddy smile as he wrapped the watch around her wrist. He had to admit, it was nice to see her openly happy...even if it was because she was taking something of his.

"You like my new watch?" she bared a teethy smile at him as she raised her left hand.

"You are evil," he said flatly, making her laugh.

Isabel suddenly cleared her throat and stood up at the dinner table. "Tomorrow's dinner is cancelled, as my sister refuses to attend."

"Isabella..." Abigail tried to sit her back down.

"Instead...we'll have it tonight," Isabel smiled, surprising the others.

And within the hour, dinner had been set up for everyone to be a part of. They even had all the crackers to pull!

"Three! Two! One! Pull!"

Everyone cheered after seeing the gifts inside, although the little boy was more surprised to see a playing card inside his cracker, "How did you do that?" he looked at the Doctor with awe.

"Your card, I believe," the Doctor pointed, smirking, until...

"No!" the boy laughed and set the card down.

"Oh, shut up!" the Doctor gave up on the game altogether.

"Maybe I can teach you later," Avalon laughed, "And maybe even win your screwdriver this time!" The Doctor looked horrified at that and quickly shook his head, making Avalon laugh even more.

Kazran cleared his throat and raised his glass, "Er, Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas!" the rest cheered.

~ 0 ~

Once more, Abigail was brought back to the Ice Vault, the blonde thanking the group for their gift, "Best Christmas Eve ever," she hugged the Doctor last.

"Ah! Till the next one," he stepped back.

"I look forward to it. Now I'd like to say good night to Kazran..."

"Of course," the Doctor nodded, "Well, on you go."

"You really are clueless," Avalon shook her head, "We'll be on our way," she waved at Abigail then took the Doctor back, with the help of Lena, towards the TARDIS.

"Wait!" Kazran rushed after them, "Doctor! I, er, I think she's going to kiss me."

"You are not asking him for advice, are you?" Avalon sighed.

"I can give good advice," the Doctor argued and pushed Kazran towards Abigail.

"I've never kissed anyone before. What do I do?" the teenage boy urgently asked.

"Well...try and be all nervous and rubbish and a bit shaky."

"Why?"

"You'll be like that anyway. Make it part of the plan!"

"That is the worst advice I have ever heard!" Avalon exclaimed, though not so surprised by it.

"Well, it's not that bad of an idea," Lena stepped forwards, "Just go for it, Kazran!"

"What, now? I kiss her now?" he blinked with wide eyes.

"Kazran," the Doctor put an arm around his shoulder, "It's this or go to your room and design a new kind of screwdriver. Don't make my mistakes. Now, go!"

"I am so not gonna let that one go," Avalon pointed and walked off, laughing to herself. "Of course that's what you would do!" her laughter because like a howl all the way into the TARDIS.

"Oh c'mon!" the Doctor went after her, Lena scurrying behind them to try and stop their newest banter.

~ 0 ~

California, 1952.

The Doctor hurried through some bushes that led into the pool area of a lovely Hollywood party. He'd listened to Avalon's request to bring them to the era - that was his first mistake - and even got dressed for the occasion as Avalon suggested...that had been his second mistake.

The third mistake had been listening to her to make friends at the party.

Now, he was on the run to gather up his companions and get the hell out of there. He came to find Kazran and Abigail kissing by the pool, "Guys, we've really got to go quite quickly. I just accidentally got engaged to Marilyn Monroe!" he rambled but the pair did not break apart, "How do you keep going like that? Do you breathe out your ears? Hello? Sorry, hello? Guys, she's phoned a chapel, there's a car outside, this is happening now!"

"Yoo-hoo! Yoo-hoo!" he heard Marilyn Monroe calling for him.

"Twins," the Doctor blinked and dashed off, hoping to at least get them to help him...even if it meant hearing the nonstop laughter of Avalon once again.

~ 0 ~

Lena plopped down beside Avalon at a table, Lena a bit distressed, "I can't find any of our friends," she sighed.

Avalon had a plate of food in front of her, the fork already in her hand, "Who cares, Lena. Kazran and Abigail are probably snogging somewhere and the Doctor is probably getting himself into trouble. Let me eat!"

"What is that?" Lena crinkled her nose at the scent the food was giving off.

"No idea," Avalon shrugged, "Nice fella handed it to me, asked for a dance afterwards."

"Avalon!" Lena took the plate from her before Avalon dug her fork into it, "You can't accept things from strangers!"

"He's a celebrity!" Avalon took back from her plate.

"Oh yeah, who was he?" Lena pulled the plate again.

"Um..." Avalon thought for a moment and realized she didn't have the foggiest idea, "...well, he's a celebrity so everyone knows him! That's not a stranger! Now give me!" she pulled the plate again and finally sunk her fork into it.

"Do you even know what it is?" Lena raised an eyebrow.

"Nope!" the ginger toasted with her fork and was about to put it in her mouth when she heard the Doctor calling for them.

"Ava! Lena!" the Doctor rushed up to them in urgency.

"What happened to you, big brother?" Lena asked, making Avalon look up to see what her sister was talking about.

The Doctor had been dressed in a white evening jacket and black trousers, only now his face wore the smudges of someone's lips on his cheek.

"Who have you been snogging?" Avalon raised her eyebrows.

"Shut up! Help me!" he clapped his hands together.

"Let me eat," Avalon shifted back in her chair, waving him off.

"Oh, don't be so mean," Lena looked at the Doctor who seemed very desperate.

"I'm eating!" but then Avalon tasted a bit of the food and spit it back out. That was horrible. "Okay, what do you need?" she turned to the Doctor, pushing her plate away from her.

"Marilyn Monroe! Engaged! Marriage! Chapel! Help me!"

"Okay," Avalon stood up and took a sip of her drink to get rid of the awful taste, "This is what we're going to do. Lena, give me your bag," she held her hand out as Lena gave her purse.

"What are you going to do?" the Doctor frowned as the ginger pulled out a lipstick tube.

"Oh, I get it," Lena stood up as Avalon applied the lipstick.

"I don't! What's going on!?" the Doctor flapped his hands with urgency, "I don't have time!"

"No, no, it'll be fine. She's done this before and it worked perfectly!" Lena assured and received her purse back.

"What?" the Doctor waited impatiently.

Avalon moved over to the Doctor's side and grabbed his face, kissing the corner of his mouth and making sure her smudge stayed on.

"Wh-what are you doing?" the Doctor stiffened, thoroughly confused.

He was expecting some kind of teasing laughter instead of kisses! Avalon had kissed him on the other side of his face, also making sure that her smudge would stay. He could feel her breath on his skin and frankly it...hadn't felt so bad. He looked down at the wrong time, for her lips were dangerously close and for a split second he wondered what it might be to k...

"Don't forget the jacket!" Lena exclaimed, startling the Doctor from his thoughts.

He blinked and stepped away from them while he gathered himself. What had that been about? He shouldn't have those thoughts at all! It was Avalon, his baby sister's twin (or step-sister, but no one really knew that), the woman who laughed and teased him all the time! What was wrong with him?

"What about it?" Avalon looked back at Lena, sporting her own blush from her kisses.

"It's not gonna work if you don't mess that up too," Lena moved up to the Doctor, "Sorry big brother," she apologized before pulling his bow-tie undone and ruffling his hair, "There!" she stepped back.

"What is the point of all this?" the Doctor frowned moving to fix his hair when Lena smacked his hand, "Ow!"

"No woman wants to share her man, whether boyfriend or husband," Avalon remarked, "Duh. That's why you and Lena are going back to Marilyn where Lena's going to play your wife, or girlfriend, whatever you want. I'll act as the previous woman you've been engaged to."

"And this works?" the Doctor raised an eyebrow, full of doubt.

"I've done it before with Mels and it is hilarious." Avalon crossed her arms, "Now go on! I bet Marilyn is getting frustrated!"

"I don't want to be his wife," Lena made a face.

"Thanks baby sister," the Doctor mock-glared at her.

"No, not like that," Lena chuckled, "You're my 'big brother', remember? I feel weird playing your wife..."

"Yoo-hoo!" they heard Marilyn calling.

"Well someone's got to do it or he'll be walking down that aisle in ten minutes," Avalon reminded.

"Yoo-hoo!"

"Ava please!" the Doctor hurried up to her, "Please! Please! Please!"

"Alright, alright," Avalon rolled her eyes, "Stole your watch and I keep making cheap remarks, least I could do is get you out of a marriage," she linked arms with him, "Let's go!"

Lena laughed as they all headed to get the Doctor out of his terrible mess, none of them aware of what was happening with Kazran and Abigail at the same time.

~ 0 ~

The group finally returned back to the Ice Vault to place Abigail back in her chamber, everyone alright and no one married. Abigail and Kazran asked for a moment to be alone before parting but when Kazran rejoined the group afterwards, there was an evident change in his mood and expression.

"There we go. Another day, another Christmas Eve. We'll see you in a minute, eh? I mean, a year," the Doctor clapped Kazran on the shoulder.

"Doctor... Listen, why don't we leave it?" Kazran quietly asked.

"Sorry, leave what?"

"Oh, you know. This. Every Christmas Eve, it's getting a bit old."

"Christmas never gets old," Lena frowned.

"Well, Christmas is for kids, isn't it?" Kazran countered, "I've got some work with my dad now, I'm going to focus on that. Get that cloud belt under control."

"Did we bore you or something?" Avalon raised an eyebrow, "Or is there something you don't want to tell us?"

"It's just times changing," Kazran shrugged and started walking away.

"Not as much as I'd hoped," the Doctor went after the teen, "Kazran," he handed his screwdriver to Kazran, "I'll be needing a new one, anyway. What the hell, Merry Christmas. And if you ever need me, just activate it. I'll hear you."

"I won't need you," Kazran took the screwdriver and mumbled.

"What's happened? What are you not telling me?" the Doctor eyed him suspiciously but Kazran walked off again, "What about Abigail?" he called.

"I know where to find her," Kazran shouted and disappeared through the chambers.

"Well that went well," Lena frowned, "What happens now?"

"I'll tell you what, the Ghost of Christmas Present happens now," Avalon stared at Abigail's chamber up ahead, "He won't tell us, fine. But he'll have to tell in the present," with that, she hurried back to the TARDIS, "Doctor! C'mon!" she called.

~ 0 ~

As Avalon directed, Amy took the role of the next 'ghost' and projected herself to the older, current Kazran in hopes of changing the man's mind and help the ship in the clouds. Once that didn't happen, Kazran was brought to the Ice Vault...in front of Abigail's chamber. It was there that Kazran explained the illness Abigail had before going into the chamber, the ice barely able to keep her alive. But with each Christmas Eve she spent out of it, her moments of life went down, hence the number in front of her chamber. None of them had realized it had went down to number '1'. She only had one more opportunity to go out before she would die, which was the reason Kazran had forgone the traditional Christmas Eve's.

"We're really sorry about Abigail," Lena had come towards the current Kazran, the Doctor and Avalon behind her, "We didn't know..."

"Because you didn't tell us," Avalon muttered, getting a look from the Doctor to get her be quiet. She was just upset that Kazran had left them to the side and then got angry with them for what happened to Abigail. It can't be their fault if they weren't even informed. But on requests of Lena and the Doctor, she was forced to say quiet about it.

"All my life, I've been called heartless. My other life, my real life, the one you rewrote. Now look at me," Kazran stood in front of Abigail's chamber with a heartbroken expression as he looked into the window.

"Better a broken heart than no heart at all," the Doctor tried to comfort the man.

"Oh, try it. You try it. Why are you here?"

"Have you even read A Christmas Carol?" Avalon huffed, "It's time for the Ghost of Christmas Future. The future's about to be shown!"

"Fine! Do it! Show me! I'll die cold, alone and afraid. Of course I will, we all do! What difference does showing me make? Do you know why I'm going to let those people die? It's not a plan. I don't get anything from it. It's just that I don't care. I'm not like you, any of you. I don't even want to be like you! I don't and never, ever will care!"

"And we don't believe that," the Doctor stood straight, looking the man in the eye.

"Then show me the future. Prove me wrong."

"We're showing you the future right now," Lena corrected, pointing past Kazran, "What do you think, sweetheart?" she called, "Is that who you want to become, Kazran?"

The current Kazran turned around and found his younger 12 year old self standing in front of him, "Dad?" young Kazran blinked.

The current Kazran dropped his cane and went for the boy, about to strike when he got the flashes of his father beating him then of himself trying to hurt Abigail's nephew. He came to a halt and realized the man he had become over the years, certainly not one he wanted to continue to be, "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," he reached out to hug his younger self, "It's OK, don't be frightened. I'm...I'm so, so, so..."

"Kazran. We don't have much time," the Doctor reminded.

There was only a couple minutes until the ship above would come crashing down...

~ 0 ~

With Kazran now changed, the group hurried back to the control room to turn off the cloud belt...only to realize the controls wouldn't work anymore. The Doctor realized they had made a mistake in changing Kazran too much. The controls were programmed for a man like Kazran's father, and since Kazran wasn't like that anymore...the controls were useless. Another option had to be thought of and fast because the ship would be coming down soon. The option, when thought of one, hadn't been the happiest of choices but it was the only thing that was sure to work. That was how Abigail had gotten out of her chamber for the last time, to sing for the fishes up in the sky. She stood outside Kazran's house, singing into the Doctor's screwdriver that was wired to Kazran's machine inside.

"Well?" Kazran quietly turned to the Doctor frantically, wondering if it had been worth it to take Abigail's last moments of life.

"Well, the singing resonates in the crystals. It's feeding back and forth between the two halves of the screwdriver. One song, filling the sky. The crystals will align, I'll feed in a controlled phase loop, and the clouds will unlock."

"And in English...?" Avalon raised an eyebrow, young Kazran and Lena wondering the same thing.

"Something that hasn't happened in this town for a very long time now will happen right about..." the Doctor didn't finish when the first couple of snowflakes began falling from the sky.

"Snow!" Lena cheered, "Yes!"

With the snow falling, the other townsfolk started coming out of their houses to celebrate. While the ship did its clear landing, the Doctor and the twins went to return young Kazran to his own time...while leaving the current Kazran and Abigail a familiar gift: a carriage, a harness and a familiar shark swimming above.

~ 0 ~

Once Amy and Rory had been released from the ship, they had quickly went to find their friends, hoping they were alright after such events. They didn't have to do much searching when they heard the calls of Avalon and Lena, both nearly tackled with great, big hugs.

"You guys alright?" Avalon pulled Lena back with her.

"Yeah, yeah, nothing like a crashing ship for a honeymoon," Amy joked and laughed.

"The best, I hear," Avalon joined in with a small laugh.

"Ah, yes, you two! About time!" the Doctor joined them, immediately eyeing the clothing they wore, Amy with her Kissogram outfit and Rory dressed as a Centurion, "Why are you dressed like that?"

The twins chuckled, "You are way too clueless," Avalon mumbled to Lena.

"Ah, kind of lost our luggage. Kind of crash landed," Rory rubbed the side of his neck.

"Yeah, but why are you dressed like that at all?" the Doctor insisted, genuinely curious of the attire.

"They really love their snowmen around here," Amy desperately changed the topic and looked at a nearby snowman, "I've counted about 20."

"Yeah, I've been busy," the Doctor easily followed without noticing the blushes of either married human.

"Yeah, yeah, you have," Amy nodded and hugged him, "Thank you. "

"Pleasure. Right, come on, then, let's go!" the Doctor clapped his hands and headed for the TARDIS.

"Got any more honeymoon ideas?" Rory dared to ask as they followed.

"Careful what you ask for," Avalon put a hand on his shoulder.

"Is that...is that your watch?" Amy looked at the Doctor with confusion when she spotted the familiar watch on Avalon's wrist.

"She conned me out of it," the Doctor muttered.

"Did not!" Avalon exclaimed, "I won it fair and square and Lena is a witness!"

The Doctor rolled his eyes, "Anyways, I do have another honeymoon idea, not sure if anyone's interested. There's a moon that's made of actual honey. Well, not actual honey. And it's not actually a moon. And technically, it's alive and a bit carnivorous, but there are some lovely views."

"Yeah, great, thanks," Rory shot Amy a look and mouthed 'no' to her before going inside the TARDIS with Avalon.

"Are you OK?" Amy looked between the Doctor and Lena.

"Course we're okay," the Doctor nodded and glanced at Lena for confirmation.

"Yeah," she agreed, "Just a bit sad that I'll be leaving."

"You can always stay, you know that," the Doctor pointed, Amy nodding in agreement.

"No, I just...I remember now why I was going to leave the first time around," Lena sighed, unaware of the questioning look Amy was now giving her, "I get scared easily and I become a burden. Plus, it's just not me," she shook her head, "Doesn't mean I don't want to take a trip here and then, it's always fun to be with my friends and sister. But, I think like Avalon, it's time I figure out who I want to be. I'm not going to stay as the 'sick girl' forever." She smiled and went inside.

"That was...wow," Amy didn't even know how to comment on that, "When was she going to leave?" she asked the Doctor quietly.

"Before she died'," the Doctor sighed, preferring not to remember that day.

"And let me guess, Avalon had no idea?"

"None whatsoever."

"Sounds right," Amy nodded and looked up to the clear sky, "It'll be their last day together, won't it?" she sighed when she thought of Kazran and Abigail.

"Everything has to end some time, otherwise nothing would ever get started."

Rory came back out with a concerned expression on his face, "Your phone was ringing. Someone called Marilyn. Actually sounds like the Marilyn. Avalon took the call and it sounds like it's not going so well..."

The Doctor blinked, "Right..." from now on, neither Avalon nor Lena were fans of Marilyn Monroe and vice versa. The blonde woman hadn't been too happy to hear that he had 'tricked' another woman (Lena) into marrying him while he was already 'married' (to Avalon).

"Doctor?" Amy smiled in amusement at his expression, "Something you want to tell us, maybe?"

"You may want to get Ava off the phone, I've learned her words are very colorful when she gets into her temper," the Doctor took a breath and shook his head.

"Yeah," Rory knew exactly how Avalon would get and so hurried back inside.

"Where are they, anyways? Kazran and Abigail?" Amy got over her chuckle from the Doctor.

"Off on a little trip, I should think."

"Where?"

"Christmas."

"Christmas?"

"Yeah, Christmas," the Doctor opened the door for her and let her go inside first. He glanced up with a small smile, "Halfway out of the dark," he went into the TARDIS a moment after.

~ 0 ~

"Oh my one, I'm so happy

That you've got so far

I know the good, the great

Is working you like a charm.

Oh my one, rushing away,

With a bag full of bones,

I know the place you left,

Still won't leave you alone.

The Doctor had come to a stop in the corridors of the TARDIS after hearing those melancholic words. He was looking for Lena since the brunette would be returning to her father and brother in a couple of minutes. She'd just excused herself to say goodbye to Avalon but was expected she'd taken slightly longer. The Doctor knew this would probably be the first time in their lives they would be apart, whether twins or step-sisters they loved each other sincerely. Of course, in his mind Avalon didn't know her status as a Reynolds was in question.

The Doctor had allowed Lena to spend as much time as she wanted in the TARDIS but after some time he was curious to see what the twins were up to. Now hearing the sound of a piano, he wondered if it had been wise for him to allow them the time together if they were going to be sad about it.

He stopped in front of the room the sounds were coming from and found Lena standing by a piano (one that he had no idea even existed in the box) where Avalon sat and played, and sang...sadly. He didn't like it, he didn't like it one bit for either of them to be sad. He strode into the room and cleared his throat, ending the music, which admittedly wasn't bad. He knew Avalon had a lovely singing voice, he just didn't know she had musical instrument talent as well.

"It's Christmas, why are we so sad?" he sighed as he came up beside Lena, giving her a side hug.

"I asked her the same thing," Lena agreed with a nod.

"I like the song, sue me," Avalon tried to defend herself, "I love its chords, the sounds, the lyrics..."

"Gloomy," the Doctor accused.

"I didn't force anyone to stay nor come," she pointed, "Sorry if I was bad."

"No, no, I think you were fantastic," the Doctor quickly clarified, "You're 'Ava Williams', of course you're fantastic!" she managed to smile at his words, "But perhaps your voice could do even better at joyful songs...Christmas songs."

"Hard to do so when you're not exactly in a cheery mood," she ran a finger down the piano's keyboard, "Christmas or no Christmas," she mumbled under her breath as her gaze fell down. "Everything's changing now. Lena's leaving and...I don't know what to do about that."

"Be happy," Lena gave her sister another side hug. "Plus, we've got our matching bracelets now, see?" she put her wrist and Avalon's side by side so the Doctor could see matching bracelets on their wrists. They were both pink and blue but one sister had a little charm with the letter 'L' and the other sister had the charm with the letter 'A'. "Thought they would be a nice gift."

"And they are," Avalon assured her. "Just doesn't mean it makes me any less sad."

"Baby sister, do you think you could give me a moment with Avalon?" the Doctor looked down at Lena, "I'll take you back home right afterwards, promise."

Lena nodded, "Sure," she moved over to Avalon and gave her a big hug, Avalon quickly retreating into it, "You take care, alright? And don't worry about me, you just have fun."

"It's impossible not to worry about you, Lena," Avalon pulled back, "Your my sister..." And she meant that with all of her heart, despite not knowing whether or not she was actually Lena's sister.

Lena felt that ping of guilt in her chest. She still didn't have the courage to tell Avalon the truth. "Yeah," she gave Avalon one last hug. She turned around and gave a nod to the Doctor, hoping that he could do something to help her sister when no one else had been able to.

"I don't need a pep talk, you know," Avalon spoke quietly as Lena left, her fingers playing with the piano keyboard.

"I'm not here to give you one," the Doctor took a seat beside her.

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Then what do you want? No offence, but...yeah."

"I just want to know one thing," the Doctor turned to her, looking her in the eye, "One thing that I bet no one has asked you since the wedding..."

"What?"

"How do you feel?"

Avalon stiffened and looked away, "Why...why do you ask?"

"Because you got a strange letter warning you of danger and your sister - whom you've never been separated from - is leaving you. I think it's valid for someone to ask how you feel about that."

Avalon had to agree with that but wasn't going to openly agree, "It's...I don't know," she shrugged, "There's no words that come close to describing it, honestly."

"I get that, but maybe you can say something so it doesn't stay bottled up inside. You remember how that went the last time with your nightmares, right?" for some reason, he saw her blush and was going to ask about it when she spoke again.

She let out a big breath. "I mean, what do you want me to say? That maybe it scares me a little? What'd be the point?"

"Ava, you know it's never a good idea to keep things bottled inside. We've been over this," the Doctor sighed.

"Yeah, fine, maybe I am a little scared. And I'm sad because Lena is leaving but at the same time I'm thinking it's better for her to be away for whenever this thing comes for me..."

"Nothing is going to come for you, Ava, I promise," the Doctor placed a hand on her arm.

"We'll see, won't we?" Avalon gave a brief smirk that the Doctor knew was just meant to make him believe she was better.

"How's about a small gift, hmm?" he surprised her with instead.

"What?" she frowned in confusion. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a rectangular box wrapped in red and green wrapping paper. "What?" Avalon blinked as the gift was held between them, "But...I don't understand..."

"What's to understand?" the Doctor chuckled, "It's Christmas, it's a gift, and it's for you."

"You didn't even know it was going to be Christmas," she took the gift and turned it over, trying to learn what it was by shaking it. "Lena just stopped by a store before leaving, but you-"

"This is sort of something I've been working on for some time. Christmas just happened to complete it," the Doctor smiled, "Go ahead, open it."

Avalon studied the gift for another moment before she began unwrapping it. She found a white box underneath in the shape of a rectangle and took off its lid. Inside laid a silver journal with her initials 'A.H.R.' engraved on the bottom of the cover and a latch binding the journal shut, "It's a journal," she whispered as she took it out the box, "You got me a journal," she looked at the Doctor with blinking eyes.

"Well, yes, but there's more to it," the Doctor was now in complete smiles, nervous, but still smiles, and nervous. Why was he nervous? It was just a journal, "I know you said you didn't want to buy a new one because of the last one's special value to you, but this one might change your mind."

"Not to be rude or anything but I find that a bit difficult," Avalon admitted with a sad smile, "My mother, Emmalina, gave me that journal and it had this…" she swallowed hard, unable to finish her words anymore.

The Doctor set a hand on her shoulder, "I know…that's why I went ahead and did this…" he took the journal from her and kept it between them as he opened it up to the first page, making sure Avalon could see it.

Her eyes widened as she looked at the page that had writing on it, "Oh my god…"

"I didn't look, I just scanned and moved it," the Doctor quickly said before she jumped to conclusions, "I swear."

But Avalon had no doubt about it. Out of everyone of their group, only he and Rory had stayed away from all her writings in the past. She slowly took the journal from his hands and read the familiar words of the first page, "…these are my mother's words she wrote in my first journal. The ones that inspired me to write…" she looked up with teary eyes, "You did this?"

He nodded, "I know it's not the same as the original and that's okay, but this is a very special kind of journal that you'll never finish."

"Why do you say that?"

"Cause it's bigger on the inside," he whispered with pure excitement.

"What?" she frowned and turned the pages of the journal, "It seems ordinary to me…"

"It's like the TARDIS, it's infinitely endless," the Doctor declared, "You can keep writing in this thing forever and you will never run out of pages. It's the ultimate journal. Best of all is it contains all of your original journal's entries with your mother's writing in the beginning, see?" he made her flip to the first couple of pages, making sure to keep a look on the side so she wouldn't think he was looking at her writing, "You'll never have to buy another journal."

"This is…" Avalon bit her lip as she went through her old entries, "…there are no words to describe how perfect this is! It's truly fairytale like," she looked up with a happy smile, "I love it, thank you."

"Merry Christmas, Avalon," he smiled softly.

She hugged her journal with joy at the thought of writing again. Oh she had a lot of things to write about now and she finally could without feeling guilty, "Thank you," she looked at him and kiss his cheek.

As she pulled away, the Doctor had turned his head to kiss her cheek as well but accidentally found himself a bit too close to her lips. That was the second time something like that happened and it was really starting to take a toll on him. It made him feel...odd, not in a bad way but...odd. Avalon realized how close they were to each other and blushed as she looked away, a faint image of her dreams coming back and only making things worse.

"I, um...I think Lena is probably waiting," she finally said, her gaze locked on the piano's keyboard, "We should go take her."

"Um, yeah, yeah, don't worry," the Doctor quickly stood up, clearing his throat.

"Thank you, though," Avalon smiled softly as she gazed back at her new journal. "I won't forget this present ever, trust me."

She really wouldn't.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

To be continued in...Falling in Temptation! 

Thank you to everyone who's read, commented, liked and reblogged! I hope you guys continue onto the second story!

I thought it might be fun to include a couple fun facts about the story while I was drafting? If it was boring then let me know and I'll never do it again xD

Fun Facts:

1. Avalon's name was taken from the street name of my old college!

2. Lena was originally named 'Melina' but since I totally fell in love with the character ‘Lena Luthor’ from Supergirl, I had to make the switch!

3. Originally, I was going to make Avalon confess to her dad that she knew she was adopted - it was going to blow up into a whole argument! I decided against it in the end because I didn't want her to join the Doctor out of anger. This way she joined because she wanted to and she's also going to be safer with him!

4. I originally intended on bringing Avalon along right after the Eleventh Hour but I thought it would be better to introduce each OC separately, leaving Avalon for last since she's the main OC.

Once again, thanks for reading and see you in the next story!!

Oh my gosh your ‘the name is English’ fanfic is so good. Any advice on getting like. The distinct voices of each of the characters? I’m just dabbling in homestuck fiction and I think I got Dave and rose and jade. But John and the alpha kids are hard

(Edited: I kept thinking about the mistakes I made in this explanation so I’ve finally gone back and fixed them pfffft, Also like... I think I might’ve misconstrued the kind of answer anon was going for, in which case, only the very end end of this long ass response is useful. Welp.)

SO FIRST OFF, I am insanely flattered anyone is asking my advice on how to write Homestuck characters because these are some of the most difficult characters I’ve ever written. Thank you so much! These kids each have an insane amount of dimension to them and I completely understand why they come off a bit intimidating to write correctly. I don’t even think I do that good of a job, lmao. Anywho, I’mma go ahead and apologize in advance because I got a little carried away with my advice. When I get to explaining things I like to over-explain and hope you just pick out what ends up bein actually useful to you. There is... a lot of shit under this cut, so be warned.

Hello! Welcome to this wordy as fuck space under the cut. (Edit: It won’t format correctly so ALL this bullshit under the cut. Thanks tumblr. SMD plz). Unfortunately I can't describe the way they talk without deconstructing a little bit on how I view each of their personalities because a part of me insists it's better to provide context and examples, so again, I'm sorry for these unnecessarily long ramblings. Skip to about the center of each paragraph if you want to focus on speech pattern-specific things, eheheheh.

John's pretty difficult for me too because his vernacular slate isn't as colorful as everyone else's, but this is kind of what I've come to understand about him: His general reaction to everything is a mixture of chipper and blasé--going with the flow. He kind of became the “straight man” in HS to combat the way everyone else was reacting to the wild shit that eventually went down. At face value, the way he talks makes him come off as a simple dude -- what you see is what you get, which isn't necessarily true. He's honest about his feelings but at the same time it seems like he has difficulty processing and understanding them, which makes them come through much milder than what you'd expect for the situation. It's probably why he absorbed his dad's death very slowly and got hit hard when it finally processed that he was gone for good. But not many things get all the way through his initial blaséness which actually makes him kind of callous in that he can give oddly indifferent responses to things others would consider a big deal, such as when Terezi died in front of him. He looked at her corpse and was just like "Eugh. She's so weird." Like damn dude, that’s cold. Ain’t like she bled to death or nothing. Anyway, some speech pattern specific things I keep in mind when I write him: He doesn't use a lot of big words, sticking to casual, simple responses, most of them positive or enthusiastic sounding. He sometimes uses old man speech and idioms, like Jake but toned down by like 85%. He's a bit slow on the uptake, points out the obvious, and says things that he thinks are clever but he's either completely missing the mark or being lame in general, not to say he can't sometimes be particularly sassy/savage, especially when it comes to his immediate friends because he knows them and can see through their bullshit better than he can with other people he doesn't know that well. In the chat client, he likes to divide combined words like "what ever" and "time line". If you're being canon compliant, he adopted some chat quirks from Vriska after they dated, such as multiplying punctuations by 8 for emphasis!!!!!!!! (edit: Ignore this last part. I think I may be thinking of a dead john, lmao.)

Jane's also a little difficult but easier than John since speech-wise, she's more of a balance between him and Jake + if they were super skeptical about everything and cared about being smart. She's actually kind of a wild card to me, because sometimes she has probably some of the most realistic reactions to the more ridiculous things in HS, but has grown used to equally ludicrous happenings such as the assassination attempts on her life in her intro. She also tends to wear her heart on her sleeve, and has quite the temper. She tries to override her more emotional responses with good southern manners because she's polite, god dammit! When her short fuse isn't ignited, her bottomless passion fuels her cheerfulness as well as her fearlessness. She's also pretty inquisitive, about the world around her as well as towards her friends, asking them questions to understand what they may be dealing with better. She tries really hard to be reasonable about things but struggles with letting other things that may be in play ruffle her well-kept feathers. Speech pattern-wise, she vacillates between speaking like a normal teen and a grandma, to a way lesser extent than Jake. Initially, she tries to keep it prim and proper--sophisticated like a southern suburban housewife with an interesting hint of embellished self-narrative like she's the protagonist of a Noir comic (like here), but when real shit starts to go down, she gets quite a bit more casual (like when they're on their quest slabs here). That is to say, I wouldn't say her normal way of talking is something that doesn't come naturally to her because it totally does, but she loses most of the laciness because short and to the point is better, which is the case for any of the kids with more flavorful quirks. She tends to steamroll over other people when she gets passionate about a topic, but when that's not happening, she's actually super accommodating, to the point of viciously ignoring her own feelings so she can be a voice of reason. In the chat client, she uses toothy emojis like :B.

Roxy, on the other hand, comes pretty easily for me because she's really similar to one of my closest friends and speaks much the same way we do when we're chill. We're also from the south, where much of the youth talk like Roxy does, lmao. Roxy is probably the most accommodating of any of the kids, readily bending over backwards to cater to her friends' needs and letting her own needs take a backseat, which probably leads to a lot of resentment she keeps buried. But she's still the chillest one, taking just about everything in stride before and after her alcoholism. She tends to get sad before she ever gets angry. And if she does get angry, it's usually only frustration at others for being difficult. Communication-wise, she's the most shorthanded--thinking and living in chat-speak. She's all about living her best life and taking care of her family so things are fun and peaceful. She wants to be super sure of herself (like Dirk) because she wants to be reliable. When talking, she likes to use a bunch of metaphors (again, like Dirk), and she tends to casually throw in a lot of puns too, such as when she tells Jake that they're still "humanated" when he asks if he's alienated her too. The nature of her responses is typically pretty flippant, even when things are serious. It's probably obvious that getting comfortable with general Ebonics will help a lot when writing her. In chat client, I try to remember these things: typos only happen when she's drunk--when typing her drunk, I avoid actively trying to give her slurred speech. Instead, I kind of let my fingers type a little more haphazardly and leave the typos I made that sound like mistakes she would make. She only tries to correct a small portion of her typos, more frequently the closer she is to sobriety. When she IS sober, her shorthand isn't consistent. One sentence she'll write "u" and the next, she'll write "you". Same thing with "2" and "to" or "4" and "for", etc. She'll cut out unnecessary letters in words, use typical chat abbrevs, and only use singular letters in place of a whole word, like "y" for "yes". Also uses smileys and other signs like <3. She's super fun for me to write because she comes away with a general feeling of "lmao" if that makes any sense.

Jake I'm always worried I'm doing wrong but he seems to be the one people love my characterization of the most so far, lmao. So I guess I must be doing something right. The thing about Jake is he wants to be the "likeable character". He takes what people want in a guy and molds that into this garbled persona. So when he talks to others, even his friends, he tries to be super agreeable, positive and supportive, regardless of the subject matter; he’s always talking these people up to make them feel good about themselves so that they enjoy conversing with him. But the reality is that he's extremely (but not necessarily intentionally) self-centered. He also aggressively ignores anything negative or forcefully turns it into something positive even when it doesn't make sense. He only tends to express frustration when others (Dirk) are being difficult; I don't remember if he ever actually gets angry in the comic?? He also likes to express surprise/amazement at things (a lot more than the other kids do at least), at the beginning of his responses, even when someone says something that's particularly obvious. The thing that gets me about Jake is that his superficial shell is so impenetrable, I don't think that issue was ever really fully addressed, much less fixed in HS, which leaves a lot of questions about his character & several different but valid interpretations of him by the audience. He may very well actually just be an oblivious idiot who's suffered brain damage one too many times (there's not too many pieces of supporting evidence to negate this) but I personally like to think Jake is far more complicated than that. I mean, look at how many convos he's grabbed the helm of and steered into a completely different direction just so he doesn't have to deal with something. His speech is probably the one I have to look up references for the most because he uses a fuckton of idioms you'd only hear one’s well-meaning but probably unintentionally racist poppop use, and a weird mixture of western/country and british vocab + bro speech he probably adopted while talking to Dirk. This is one list I find super useful when trying to find words to use (bless this person), but I still have to google a bunch of goofy phrases and words to be sure I'm not exhausting my material. One thing I know I do wrong when it comes to Jake's speech is use modern British slang such as "bloody" and "bloke", which is something he absolutely never does but I use them anyways because... idfc, I guess, idk. lol, I acknowledge it so it's fine.

Dirk is probably the one that comes easiest to me because he and I behave and talk pretty similarly. Either that, or I just like to think that and I'm just projecting while writing him completely wrong, lmao. Either way, Dirk hides behind the fact that he's super chill and levelheaded when really he's a nervous paranoid wreck. He's always thinking and overthinking about everything and he never gives himself a god damn break. He calculates every response he gives so it comes off exactly the way he wants it to, so when it doesn't because he's caught off guard, you get to see these little snippets of this dude freaking out underneath. He's a neurotic control freak that makes sure the flow of conversation stays on a set course he wants it to or else he gets either uncomfortable or pissed off. He skirts around anything that might get personal to him and dismisses any focus that sheds light on his own emotions UNLESS he feels, again, that he can control that flow of conversation. Or he's already emotionally compromised. Either way, he avoids conditions that might catch him actually being vulnerable because he's just too fuckin' proud. He likes to make a lot of comparisons, using extended metaphors and milking the fuck out of them if he can get away with it because the more he talks, the more he feels in control. He likes to smoothly play along with people he finds are being ridiculous, like Jake and Caliborn, or even just because he knows they'll know he's just playing along like Roxy. That's a key thing for me actually--how much he likes to fuck with people and how inelegantly he takes it in those rare cases someone successfully fucks with him. His speech seems to be a balance between Rose and Dave, a chill bro with access to the biggest vocabulary ever. I encourage aiming towards sounding like a pretentious asshole when writing Dirk because that's what he is all the time sometimes. He likes to Dirk-splain because more often than not he knows exactly what he's talking about, but he also doesn't realize his Dirk-splaining is something no one needed or asked for. Even though he's acknowledged and now resents the ludicrous size of his own ego, he still struggles with not stroking it at every opportunity. He’s a super capable, reliable guy and he knows it, but the reality is that much of what he plans for doesn’t work out. It’s only when he and his friends are really in the shit and he doesn’t have time to think that instinct takes over and he ends up doing some hella amazing things (Unite: Synchronization). That’s why his whole thought process of being better off alone is dangerous--he’s capable because he has people he loves relying on him. (I went off on a tangent unrelated to speech here. I’m sorry. I got a lot of feelings about Dirk and his selfishness vs. his selflessness, lol)

With all that, these are some general notes I try to abide by:

The ramblers of the kids are Dirk, Dave, and Jake, the former two especially when they're anxious. Dave's definitely the worst in that regard. The Striders both act like they wanna come off as men of few words and both fail miserably; it seems like being forced to live in verbal silence for a good portion of their lives gave both of these social wrecks a stigma against any gaps in conversation. Jake on the other hand rambles because he's self-important, not unlike Dirk. It's almost like he's not sure how else to contribute to the conversation if it's not about movies or himself.

For me, it actually helps that I think Dirk and Jake may both be on the spectrum. (I'm sorry if the following offends anyone who is on the spectrum, but this is just my general experience talking to people with those conditions). It certainly explains why their joint communication is so shit and why they either both give long-winded explanations that no one really asks for, or extract themselves from conversations they don't have a good foothold in, the latter being way more common for Jake (I hint a little at all this in my fic, moreso for Jake via Dirk's observations). They both want to be heard but may have difficulty being good listeners because their heads are already filled to the brim with things that have been cycling since before the other person has started talking.

On a final note, I find it pretty important to note the changes in each character's demeanor and way of talking after certain things happen. A glaring example is the Alpha Kids' behaviors after the batshit candy juju episode they all had. When Jake's broken out of his glorified, overwhelmingly positive fake self-image, he's actually very self-critical. However, his self-centeredness is hard to break out of, so when he broods on all the flaws he'd ignored in favor of being the guy everyone likes, he directed all of his nervous energy into finding reassurance from Roxy. (This self-deprecation could've also been born from his constant need to be agreeable, so since he thought everyone considered him to be a piece of shit, he felt the need to agree that was the case. Depends on how you read it.) Roxy had a shorter fuse and was a bit more snappy and resistant to dealing with Jake's ridiculousness. Jane remained calm and acknowledged she can be a bit too stubborn and self-righteous. Dirk finally took a step back from the details and absorbed the big picture of his problematic expectations toward his friends and himself. It’s just something to keep in mind if you fear you’re getting kind of OOC with their personalities. It’s natural for people to behave different based on changes in their mood, so don’t be afraid to experiment.

All that being said (I lied about that final note), I go back and reference the comic a lot when I’m unsure whether I’m representing a character accurately. It’s a good habit to double-check yourself. If you’re unsure how you’re writing a response but wanna move on, write it the best you can and then come back to it later and revise after reading a few conversations that include that character.

Most importantly of all: the thesaurus is your fucking best friend of all time. Fuck everyone else. The thesaurus is your god damn hero. I find “define:”ing words on google actually super helpful when trying to find synonyms that work better for me.

But that’s it! I hope you found at least a few things helpful in that word splurge of fumbling analyses. And thanks a bunch for reading my fic! It’s not super popular so it’s reassuring to know there are people out there who really enjoy it. Keeps me trying to update regularly at the very least.

I Would Sing You to Sleep

Hey, uh, remember when I was like “Immmma focus on original stuff and that’ll be that.” Good joke. @lillpon wrote this incredible meta recently and, like, you ever have a thought that just grips your brain and then you hear a My Chemical Romance song one morning and you type two-thousand words in 45 minutes?

Well, that’s what happened. If you’re not here for angst or just a metric ton of Millian feelings, this might not be for you. Happy Thursday, here’s some Underworld nonsense that ignores the timeline of things completely.

-----

They can’t move very quickly.

He’s covered in blood still, every inch of him stiff and awkward even as Emma supports most of his weight. It’s not doing much to help the overall state of her knees, but she’s already used her magic to teleport them out of Hades’…torture chamber, or whatever it was and she’s not sure if she should use more. Isn’t really even sure what to do, if she’s being honest with herself, far too many twisted emotions and fears that rattle around the spaces between her ribs.

So they walk. Slowly. Methodically. Every step is a challenge and Killian’s fingers aren’t all that tight where they curl around her shoulder.

“It’s not that much farther,” Emma promises. “We’re—do you think your lungs are alright? I don’t…I’m not really sure if I can fix that, but then—you’d…we’d know, right? If something was wrong?”

She’s rambling.

It’s stupid. But Emma isn’t sure what else to do and the silence stretches heavy over both of them, oppressive and far too warm, a heat that reminds her of that cave and the fire and she absolutely cannot cry.

Not right now.

Not yet.

She’s determined. She’s impossible. He loves her for it.

He loves her.

Still.

“What is this?” Killian breathes.

Emma has to remind herself that he’s actually just said words. It doesn’t really sound that way in the moment. Because his voice doesn’t sound right. It’s not even soft, really, just a slight scrape of syllables against the inside of his throat and passing through chapped lips. There’s no lilt to it, nothing positive, exhaustion hanging from every letter and Emma tightens her hold on the back of his jacket.

There’s a fucking hole in it.

And it’s a fair question.

It doesn’t look the same, not with the hazy color of the sky behind it or how the shutters are barely hanging on outside, more than a few loose bits of wood on the wraparound porch that Emma has found herself thinking about with a startling amount of regularity.

“It, uh—well, it’s a house,” she stammers. She hates that. “Our—“ Killian tenses slightly, and Emma bites down on her lip so sharply she tastes blood. “Can you lift your legs, do you think?”

He grunts in response, even slower movements because Emma doesn’t trust her balance all that much either and they both flinch when the door to a house with less creaky hinges at home flies open. Mary Margaret’s standing there, breathless and obviously worried, tear tracks on her cheeks and Emma can dimly hear a baby crying a few feet away.  

“Oh, Killian,” she whispers, rushing forward and Emma tries to shake her head discreetly. It doesn’t really work. She’s going to blame her knees. “Look at you. Are you alright?”

And that’s an entirely unfair question with an almost too obvious answer, but Killian makes another nose low in the back of his throat.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Emma, couldn’t you—“ Mary Margaret continues.

For a moment she briefly considers yelling at her mother. But that’s just pent up frustration and her own lingering guilt and Emma has a list of people to apologize to, least of all the man still hanging off her side and there are more footsteps.

She shouldn’t have brought them here.

Not with an audience and goddamn swords everywhere. She can see Robin’s quiver of arrows in the hallway.

The house feels wrong.

“Can you just help us get inside?” Emma asks, tempering her own emotions and the small flickers of magic that lick at the base of her spine. “Please?”

Mary Margaret blinks. Her eyes jump, scanning Killian’s face and the bruises there, an eye that’s still swollen shut, but then she’s nodding and moving and Regina might mutter holy shit under her breath when she sees them.

“Emma, why didn’t you—“

She grits her teeth — something vaguely threatening, or so Emma can only hope, but then they’re a mess of shifted weight and unsteady steps and David is pacing in a living room that doesn’t look entirely familiar either.

Killian freezes.

Emma nearly pulls him to the floor with her.

That’s not ideal.

“Hook,” David exclaims, and Emma can just make out Regina’s less-than-subtle hand movements. He does not get the hint. “Where have you—we’ve been waiting and it’s…Emma, are you alright?”

She sighs. And not because it’s almost nice that her father has asked her that, but that also feels exceptionally selfish and Emma wants to get rid of the blood. She wants to do something.

She wants—

“Killian?”

He tilts his head. That’s it. No response, no words that don’t sound like words, just a slight shift and blood-caked hair that still manages to fall artfully towards his eyes and Emma holds her breath.

Milah has taken her jacket off.

And Emma isn’t sure why that feels important — as if she’s shed the costume she’s been forced into for the hundreds of years she’s been stuck in this actual hell hole, but something about it sparks in the back of her brain and her eyes dart towards Killian.

He swallows.

She can see the muscles in his throat move, the way his teeth obviously clench and how tight his jaw goes. His fingers grip her shoulder like a vice. Like he’s making sure she’s still there.

Like he’s making sure he’s still there.

Milah nods.

“Real,” she promises softly, steps that aren’t cautious or desperate. They’re balanced, like falling back into a memory and a moment and feeling, air that’s suddenly a little easier to breathe.

He exhales.

And Emma isn’t entirely sure what happens after that. Because it all seems to happen suddenly and impossibly slow, Milah’s steps crowding into Killian’s space, a hand on his cheek and his nose brushing the inside of her palm and she doesn’t flinch at the blood, Emma didn’t really expect her too and—“Are you alright?” she whispers.

Maybe it is a dream.

Emma blinks several times to make sure. She looks at her mother, glances towards her father, tries to focus on the crying baby she could probably time most of her breathing to at this point, but that would also require her to be breathing evenly and Killian shakes his head.

She didn’t expect that.

He’d told her he was fine. And she knew it was a lie — could hear the forced bravado even as he screwed his eyes shut and held onto her when the first few bits of smoke curled around their ankles, but this something else altogether.

This is—

“How long have you been here?”

“I don’t know, I—there wasn’t any light and I—“ Milah hums when Killian can’t finish the sentence, pushing up on her toes to brush the hair away from his eyes and something clenches in Emma’s chest when his eyes flutter shut.

It’s not jealousy.

It’s not. It’s something deeper, another brand of want and maybe even a few flickers of hope, trying to memorize exactly how easily his shoulders move when he takes another deep breath.

“You’re here now though,” Milah continues, “not quite sunlight out there, but sometimes if we’re lucky—“

“—You can smell the salt of the sea if the wind turns.”

“Ah, there it.”

Milah smiles, leans back as soon as Killian’s arm circles her waist and Emma is loathe to realize he’s kept his left arm trained at his side. She bites her lip again.

And part of her knows she should leave. Retreat back to the hallway and the arrows and the crying baby, but her legs feel like cement and David’s fingers have found hers, lacing them together with a soft squeeze.

So Emma doesn’t move.

She watches and listens and—

“I wanted to get out,” Killian mumbles, and those words are different. They’re not scratched out, they’re rushed over, as if he’s simply been waiting to admit to them and Milah’s smile turns understanding. Emma tightens her fingers. David doesn’t let go.

“Wanted to leave…would have done anything, but I didn’t deserve, Gods, what I’ve done, it’s—I…it was—it hurt, everything hurt and he was there and then he’d leave, but I could still hear—“

“—I know, darling—“

“—Couldn’t sleep, even when it went dark…it was always dark and—“ He takes another deep breath, eyes gone glossy and Emma should have moved. “Gods I’ve missed you.”

Milah drops back to her heels. Presumably because Killian’s knees also give up at that precise moment.

They drop down — no twisted limbs, but a few grunts of pain because his legs are cut too and there’s a rather large bruise obvious under a rip in his jeans — but Milah’s face doesn’t show anything except a quiet determination and her fingers move into Killian’s hair like there are magnets involved.

Emma isn’t sure there are magnets in the Enchanted Forest.

It’s a ridiculous thought.

Particularly when she hears the first hitch in Killian’s breath.

And the tremor that runs through him isn’t like anything she’s ever seen — no sign of Captain Hook or any hint of Darkness, not even the Killian Jones she’s come to love with every single fiber of her being, not really.

There’s nothing even remotely familiar, which is frustratingly cyclical considering the house they’re in and the place they’re stuck and Emma’s mind surprises her once more because the only thing she can think as soon as she realizes that Killian is crying is that he looks so much younger.

No jacket. No metaphorical weight. No armor.

There are no adjectives or precursors, no monikers, colorful or otherwise.

The color in his cheeks is blotchy, uneven dots of pink, Milah’s voice barely audible over the sound of his sobs and Emma can’t remember the last time she took a deep breath. Her lungs burn with the lack of it, but she doesn’t dare do anything except stand there and watch.

Her eyes trace over him, watch Milah’s fingertips ghost across his temples and the side of his jaw, dragging up the ridge of his spine and the bend of his neck, his nose burrowing into the curve of her shoulder.

Killian Jones cries.

And cries.

He mourns and mutters words into Milah’s t-shirt. Lets her push his own jacket off his arms, the leather dropping behind him with a soft thump and it takes a moment to tug the left sleeve over his hook, a terror that etches itself on his face as soon as he realizes.

“Don’t be silly,” she murmurs. And, well, that’s that.

Killian hums, head dropping back down and the whole thing starts again. Emma doesn’t blink. She watches, waits until the crinkles around his eyes disappear and the tension between his shoulder blades evaporates and—“It was so dark,” he whispers, more than once.

She’s going to need stitches in her lip.

She’ll ask Regina about a spell for that later.

“That’s over now,” Milah says, and it sounds like a guarantee. Emma hopes she can follow through.

Although she is ridiculously stubborn. Impossible, even.

Her fingers reach up to curl around the ring hanging over the front of her shirt.

And there’s more, all in rather quick succession — a glow and a voice that makes Emma’s heart jump, but she doesn’t actually cry and Milah’s smile as soon as she sees her son is enough to inspire just a bit more hope. She turns towards Killian before she leaves, another look that’s as heavy as it is light and he leans into her hand as soon as it cups his cheek.

“I love you,” she says.

He kisses the inside of her wrist, tucks a strand of hair behind her cheek. “And I love you.”

She presses up again, a quick brush of lips and then she’s gone and Killian glances over his shoulder at Emma. Neither one of them say anything, but they don’t really have to — not after all if it, life and death and quasi-life, but his eyes flash down to the ring she keeps toying with.

One side of his mouth quirks up.

“C’mere,” she says, nodding towards the couch they’ve both been ignoring. “Let me help with some of those cuts.”

but i’ll show you my teeth | shawn mendes

chapter 7/?, university au, shawn x goth oc

let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist

masterlist | playlist coming soon

“Did you do this?” Shawn asked in a stern tone. “Don’t give me that look, I asked you a question!”

Henry was sat on top of the couch cushion, green eyes wide but generally indifferent. She gave exactly zero fucks about the mangled, chewed up phone charger that Shawn was holding up. She meowed and stood on all fours, getting ready to jump off the furniture.

“Don’t talk back to me!” he scolded. “You know you’re not supposed to touch this!”

The cat jumped off the couch and ran into the recording room. Then, a fit of giggling came from the bathroom, and out came Alessia. “You sound funny when you try to be a disappointed parent.”

“I’m trying! I’m still a new dad!” Shawn said as he tossed the charger onto the table and plopped down on the couch.

Alessia giggled even more as she sat next to him. “Didn’t you get her some toys or a scratching post? She’s gotta get her ya-yas out somehow.”

“Her what?” He chuckled, though the thought hadn’t occurred to him.

“I said what I said! And yeah, she needs things like that, otherwise she’ll scratch up the couch! Or worse, your guitars.”

The humor was suddenly gone. Shawn grabbed his laptop from the table and went to Amazon. “Okay, this shit better be here tomorrow.”

He could tell that Alessia was watching him through his peripherals, and he tried not to notice. She was a looker, meaning she stared quite a lot. Shawn wasn’t sure if it was only he who fell victim to this stare, and he wasn’t sure what it meant if he was. Alessia was very nice to him, she was his friend after all...

“How are your classes?” he asked as he browsed through various cat toys, keeping his eyes on the screen.

“I’ve gained at least one friend in every class,” she replied, running her fingers through her curly locks, “so I’m not suffering through coursework alone. Everyone I talk to seems to know you.”

“Really? That’s crazy,” Shawn mindlessly said.

“Some of them ask if I’m your girlfriend.”

That made him pause his typing. His eyes were still on the screen, but he wasn’t seeing cat condos anymore. Then he breathed out a laugh. “That’s funny. Wonder if people ask Ann the same thing.”

“Well, she’s not exactly easy to approach. One wrong look and she might shoot you on sight.” Alessia stuck her tongue out.

“You’re not wrong. Does she talk to you at all?” He was genuinely curious. The few times Shawn saw Ann and Alessia in the same vicinity they hardly acknowledged each other. He did want his girlfriend to know all of his friends, after all.

Alessia shifted in her seat. “I think she... tolerates me.”

Shawn couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, she’s like that. You can’t tell at first, but trust me, when she warms up to you, you will know.”

“How did you know?”

“She kissed me on the first date.”

“Oh, cool, so I’ll just wait for her to plant one on me.”

“Ha! You wish!”

The only sound in the room after that was Shawn clicking the keys on his laptop, placing an order for a cat condo and several toys. Then, Alessia spoke again, and something about her voice and the general air in the room changed.

“Wouldn’t it be easier if she just told you straight up?”

Shawn almost laughed, but he caught onto the sudden change. It would most definitely be easier if Ann practiced what she preached.

“Seriously,” Alessia went on. “Not to be mean, but I cannot figure out how you two came to be. You’re so… open and friendly and very likeable. She’s your literal opposite. Wouldn’t you rather be with someone who gets you?”

Honest to god, Shawn thought about that before. He thought about the qualities Ann had that he could do without, and how much easier things would be. She was so stubborn, and easily provoked. So was Shawn, but he knew better than to pick a fight. She’s a flight risk who will run at the first sign of trouble, while Shawn will sit down and talk about it for hours if he has to. She’ll nag him to do simple things like clean his apartment so his mother wouldn’t have to. She really didn’t want him talking about her to other people, like she was some dirty secret. Ann doesn’t want people to know her, while Shawn wanted to tell everybody about her. Ann bottled up her feelings, and Shawn aggressively felt his and didn’t care who saw.

He also knew it was selfish to think that way, and besides, he didn’t get into this relationship because it was easy.

“What are you trying to get at?” he asked as he closed his laptop. He finally looked at the girl next to him, like she better think about what she’ll say next.

Alessia didn’t falter her gaze, her brown eyes boring into his. “I’m saying, she’s not the only person who has eyes for you. You’re… you’re something else, rockstar.” Her hand fell onto his arm, and she offered a smile.

The two of them stared at each other for a hot minute before Shawn felt a fuse blow in his brain, making him lose his speech. He couldn’t explain the warm feeling in his chest or the smile that was growing on his lips. He didn’t know why his skin was tingling where Alessia was touching him.

That feeling lasted about ten seconds before reality went down the back of his neck like cold water. His expression turned serious as he pulled his arm away.

“Annalise is still my girlfriend,” he said firmly.

The look on Alessia’s face was obvious disappointment that she failed to cover up. She looked down at her lap, brows furrowed. “Sleeping with her twice a month doesn’t make her your girlfriend.”

“Look, I’m sorry if I accidentally led you on-”

“It’s not that.” Alessia looked up again, pursing her lips. “You’re just doing what she wants. You told me before that you didn’t want this break, did she even consider that? Did she ask you what you want? Or did she just wake up one day and decide to push you away?”

Shawn leaned in towards her, a hard look on his face. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know anything about Ann. Or me, if that’s how you think of me.”

“I know enough,” she snapped. “I know enough to see that that crazy goth chick is not good for you! She doesn’t want anything to do with you, it’s like she dumped you without actually dumping you!”

“I don’t think I should listen to you anymore.” Shawn got up from the couch, trying to cool his temper. If it was anyone else, he would have ripped their head off for talking such shit about his girl.

“Why? Because I have feelings for you it makes everything I say invalid?”

“Because you don’t know anything about why she and I are doing this!” Shawn harshly told her.

“So enlighten me!” Alessia raised her voice, jumping to her feet.

“I can’t! She won’t let me!”

She scoffed, astounded. An annoyed smile was on her face as she shook her head. “If you can’t see why that sentence is fucked up…”

Shawn sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. He really did value and respect Ann’s privacy, but if it was making him look like he was her bitch... He needed to explain, so he did. He talked about Ann's chronic stomach issues, the trip to the hospital, and everything leading up to the separation.

Alessia listened, a serious look still on her face. “Okay, I didn’t know that. Never would have guessed just by looking at her, and I’m sorry that happened. I get that you worry about her."

"And she thinks us being apart will make me worry less," Shawn said, "but it doesn't. I just wanna know where she is, what she's up to. It's killing me, not being able to see her whenever I want."

"That's what I don't understand. Why would she just push you away when you need each other the most?" She began to ramble. "I mean, doesn't she see how loved she is? Does she not realize how goddamn lucky she is? Doesn't she know that the second she drops you, someone else will be there to pick you right back up?"

Shawn felt his face and chest warm up. He didn't know what to say to that.

Alessia's eyes met his and then darted away, cheeks flushing. "But my point still stands. She’s just messing with your feelings and your head even more by keeping you around this way."

"I know." He sighed. "I keep thinking she’ll come to me one day and break it off altogether. She’s the quiet type, but she hasn’t been this quiet with me in a long time. I don’t want it to be over.”

"You’re obviously gonna do whatever you want. But while you may not want it to be a breakup, you may need it to be.”

~

“Can I still win at any game ever if I’m high?” That was the only concern Annalise had as she walked through the doors of Bart that night. She had Patrick on her arm, and he was just as stoned.

Their pregame for the Bart adventure involved Patrick’s pen, and they both took pretty big hits before ordering their Lyft. Annalise felt surprisingly okay, given that she hadn’t smoked in a very long time. In fact, she felt fantastic. Her heart and soul felt light and fluffy… if souls are even real. Or if they are able to feel fluffy.

The two of them spotted Josh, Paul, and Chad at the bar. There were plenty of partygoers in the vicinity, so spirits were high, and plenty of spirits were being consumed. Annalise actively kept her face neutral as she approached the group, her arm linked with Patrick’s.

“You look constipated,” Chad said to her over the booming rock music.

“No you!” Annalise replied, poking his shoulder.

Chad smiled and placed his hand over where she touched him.

“Where are your bros?” Patrick asked him.

“Kyle is on a health kick, so he couldn’t come, and Jared is at a civil disobedience meeting,” Chad explained.

“At this hour?” Josh asked incredulously. “It’s almost midnight!”

“Making the world a better and safer place has no bedtime.”

“He’s right, you know,” Annalise piped up, poking his shoulder again.

Chad glanced at her again, still beaming as he took a sip of his beer.

“So, drinks?” Patrick said, flagging down the bartender.

He ordered a Sapporo, while Annalise stuck with water. She downed a whole glass to deal with her cotton ball mouth. Water never tasted so good. Music never sounded so freaking pretty. The sounds were seeping into every cell of her body. She felt like a ghost but she felt so alive at the same time. She didn’t realize how much she missed getting high like this.

After the first round of drinks, Alessia entered the bar. She had a dopey smile on her face as she looked around the vicinity, and she waved when she spotted her group. “Hiiii!”

The guys cheered, raising their glasses, and Alessia flipped hair and nearly tripped in response. She grabbed hold of the edge of the bar before she could face plant onto the hardwood.

“I knew I was gonna be late,” she spoke, “so I caught up before I left my dorm.”

“Damn, Alessia knows how it’s done!” Paul said, impressed.

She held up a peace sign and then ordered a round of shots from the bar. Meanwhile, the Nice Guys claimed a spot at the bar where Mario Kart was set up on the N64. The game was being projected on the blank wall above the bar, and the two boys were sucked in right away. Chad went over and joined them, not before giving Alessia one last glance.

“Oh, there’s Smash on the Gamecube over there!” Patrick pointed to the other end of the bar. He gestured for the only two girls to follow, and they sat on the stools in front of the controllers.

They fell into a five minute battle that seemed to take five hours. Annalise had her eyes comically wide as she tried to focus on winning.

Her Link was launched off the stage by Alessia’s Kirby. Then, she was knocked out by Patrick’s Captain Falcon. Okay, so Annalise had to focus on not dying. The colors and the sounds were just so vibrant and pretty, it was hard not being consumed by them.

Patrick won that round, and he was pleased with himself. “Beat you again, Flowers!”

“Whomst?” Alessia asked, looking around at the bar.

“It’s my last name,” Annalise said. “Flores, Spanish for Flowers.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Dude, that’s so cute and makes you less intimidating!”

“Dude, I know! I’m a bad bitch with a soft interior.”

“Hm, no wonder Shawn likes you.” Alessia patted her arm and then called the bartender, who had her plate of shots ready.

Annalise felt her heart shoot for the stars at the sound of his name. She placed her elbows on the bar surface and covered her mouth with her hands. Shawn is fucking beautiful… sculpted by Aphrodite herself… or something like Aphrodite. Fuck, he’s pretty. Fuck, he’s so fucking pretty.

“I got shots!” Alessia announced as she gestured to the plate of tiny glasses that seemed to come out of nowhere. Then she turned to the other side of the bar. “Hey, guys!”

The other three boys came over, clearly interested. Each of them took their own glass, along with Patrick. Annalise denied her glass, claiming she was fine with what she was already on.

“Oh yeah, you got a sensitive tummy!” Alessia said with a gasp. “Don’t want you in the hospital again!”

The group clinked their glasses and downed the strong liquid. Alessia took the leftover one as well, not showing any signs of slowing down. Annalise watched her, mildly surprised by her statement. How did she know about that?”

A belch came out of Alessia as she sat on the stool again. She swung from side to side contently, while Annalise continued to stare.

“Alright, I’m going outside for a smoke,” Patrick told them as he reached into his leather jacket and stepped outside.

Neither woman had any response. The Nice Guys and Chad went back to their side of the bar, leaving them alone. Annalise forgot what she was doing.

“I hung out with your mans today,” Alessia slurred. “Alone. In his apartment.”

“Henry wasn’t there?” Annalise replied, pouting.

“Oh yeah… I guess we weren’t alone. Anyways, he told me you were in the hospital and almost died! You’re such a strong lady, dude!”

If she was sober, Annalise would have felt her blood boil. But instead, her blood felt like cotton candy, so all she did was blink at the other girl. Her lash band was poking the corner of her eye.

“Oh, I also came onto him,” she continued, resting her chin in her hand. “Don’t know if you’ll hear about that, but you should know he’s obsessed with you. Like, I’m not even sure it’s healthy.”

Annalise still had a dumb look on her face, mouth open and blinking slowly. She processed every word, but all emotions were numbed out, so she really didn’t know what to do. She was looking at a girl who apparently hit on her boyfriend. What do?

“So, ladies,” said Chad, who had apparently approached them. “We having a good time?”

“I was,” Alessia said, her mood shifting completely. “But I just puked up stuff I wasn’t supposed to puke up. I’m gonna go see if Patrick has any extra smokes.”

She slid off the stool and went for the door. Annalise prodded at her fake eyelash, suddenly bothered by the itch.

“Annie,” Chad said, taking the empty seat.

“No!” she snapped.

“Ann?”

“Yes?”

He chuckled. “Okay, Ann. I gotta ask, are you single now? Haven’t seen you with your singer for a minute now.”

She looked at him with blank eyes. “Good question.”

Chad quirked a bushy eyebrow. “I’ll take that as a maybe. Are you guys seeing other people?”

Well… someone wants to see him. He was alone with another girl. This was just logic. Annalise tilted her head as she tried to figure that out. “Good… question?”

He let out another laugh. “You’re cute. You know, for a goth chick.”

“I’m a fucking catch.”

“You are. It’s a damn shame he didn’t see that. You’re so mysterious and beautiful. So strong. It’s his loss, really.”

Annalise nodded, still half lost in her static mind.

“Why don’t you smile more?” Chad asked her. “I bet I could make you smile.”

That caused a visceral reaction from deep within her body. “You smile, asshole!”

However, it was taken as a joke. He only moved in closer. “You’ll be smiling with my head between your legs.”

Normally, she would have stormed off, but Annalise only sighed. “Is that the only reason why you’re talking to me?”

He tilted his head in an almost condescending way. “Hey, you know I think you’re beautiful. And I never go out to a bar without getting some. I think you’re the same way.”

“Well, you’re wrong. You ain’t getting shit from me!”

“Oh, come on! All the other girls here saw me hanging out with some dorks, so they won’t talk to me! And Alessia looked like she wanted to shoot herself! You’re my last chance!”

Annalise laughed out loud, harder than necessary. “I promise you she doesn’t want you either!” She knew the high was starting to wear off, because the emotions were coming back with a vengeance. But she knew better than to start something in a public place. She stood up, but Chad grabbed her wrist.

“Hey-” he tried to say, but he received the palm of her hand on his nose before he could even blink. He staggered back in his seat, letting go of her to clutch his bleeding nose. “Ow! You’re fucking crazy!”

“Don’t put your fucking hands on me again,” she hissed, and she stepped away just as the bouncers came over to assess the scene. “Don’t worry, I’m kicking myself out!” she snapped as she speed walked out the door.

She spotted Patrick at a nearby planter, cigarette lit in his mouth. Next to him was Alessia, who was squatting down in front of the planter. She was retching and gagging loudly.

“You still got your pen?” Annalise asked. The emotions were definitely coming back. A lump of severe discomfort was forming in her stomach as she listened to the other girl hack her guts out.

Patrick nodded and pulled the device from his pocket. Annalise took a hit, knowing she would be the one to drag Alessia back to safety. She just didn’t want to be pissed off or anxious as she did it.

“We should go,” she said in the middle of blowing out the smoke. “I punched Chad and I’m worried he might come out here and kill me.”

The cigarette nearly fell out of Patrick’s mouth. “What the fuck? What did he do? I can kill him first!”

Annalise shook her head. “It’s best we leave. Alessia’s probably gonna need help getting back to her dorm anyway.”

“‘M fine,” she mumbled before heaving again.

“I’ll call a Lyft,” Patrick said as he pulled out his phone.

______

taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @ilsolee @mendesromano @1-800-khalid-mendussy@kitykatnumber @strangerliaa @iloveshawnieboi @poppyshawn @shawnsunflower @shawmndes@shawnvvmendes @yourdeflightfullyleft @havethetimeeofyourlifee @wronglanemendes@chillingbythesea @calyumthomas @someoneunimportantxx @ruinhoney

2nd out of 5 parts of an ask by @smokeprincess24

Mika Aldini

👹 How does you OC act around different people and how does their personality change to match the environment they’re in? How do they act with: friends, family, strangers, children or their lover(s)?

Mika has some hesitance in exposing her soft, romantic side to others and is prone to deny it. She only lets people she truly trusts have insight into some of her rosy fantasies. Her mom is the one who she’s most comfortable talking about such things. 

Other than that, there’s not much of her behavior that differs depending on who she’s talking about it. 

🍅 How easily is your OC embarassed? What subjects make them flush and why? What event has made your OC the most embarassed they’ve ever been?

Mika is VERY easily embarrassed. Wether it’s about her being too obvious about her crush on Hiraku and it being pointed out, or her father’s way too open display of his love and affection for his only child…there’s a lot that can make Mika flush. 

💥 Are there any emotions your OC doesn’t know how to deal with, doesn’t understand or hates having to feel? Any reason behind this?

Actual heartbreak is something she’ll greatly struggle with. She has not quite suffered from one yet but has only seen it in works of fiction. Mika always knew in the back of her mind that its something that happens, however she won’t be prepared for just how deeply it can hurt. Given that she always sort-off idolized romance and only ever looks at the pretty parts of it, it’s definitely something that’ll make her feel very miserable.

She’s generally rather inexperienced with feeling plain vulnerable to begin with. Another emotion she’ll struggle with (rather soon) is guilt. 

🏀 Does your OC have any skills that people wouldn’t expect them to have? Do they have a hobby or pass time that others would consider strange or weird? How did they learn this particular skill or pick up this hobby?

Mika knows both how to ski and snowboard! People know that she’s rather sporty but the fact that she possesses these skills is a little surprising to some because many find it hard to picture the sun-loving, fiery Mika in snow to begin with ahdhd. 

Well, she’s not an all too big fan of winter and when she does end up in a snowy area during the cold months she does believe that doing sport is just the best way to deal with it. 

⭐ Does your OC like to sleep alone or do they enjoy sharing their bed? Have they been to any sleepovers? Have they ever been camping? What did they think of the experiences if so?

Mika has not much experience sharing a bed yet. It’s something she imagines as very comforting and lovely though and she wishes to experience it someday with someone she loves.  

🍏 When your OC says “I had a bad day” what does that tend to mean? Is it really as bad as they’re saying or are they being a bit dramatic?

Mika, much like Chieko, has a leaning to be overdramatic at times. So a „bad day“ from Mika-understanding is most likely a string of some annoying and frustrating events, but something she’ll most likely be over with the next day. 

🐉 How religious is your OC? Do they pray to any god(s) or do they not believe in that kind of stuff? What is their view of religion in general? Where do they believe people go when they die? If your OC is not religious why not and what do they believe in otherwise?

Mika is Christian and she’s registered in the Catholic Church, but later in life actually finds herself leaning more towards Protestantism. 

She does believe in God and visits Church to important occasions like Christmas, Easter and so on but she does not go there every Sunday. 

💧 What is something from your OC’s past they’re the most ashamed of and why? What is something they’re really proud of? And lastly what is something in their past that could make them shake with dread?

She’s mainly embarrassed by some of her more intensive outbursts over more trivial things but what she’ll truly look back upon in shame will come later on. 

What she’s so far the most proudest of is the time when she cooked for the Trattoria-Aldini-Branch in Rome and the practicum Takumi arranged her in Mizuhara’s “Ristorante F” after her graduation from middle school, as preparation for her Stagiares. 

🐟 What was your OC like as a baby? What were they like as a child? A teenager? An adult? How do you think they’ll develop ten years into their future? Twenty years? Will they live to old age?

Mika, as baby, was pretty loud and demanding. She began crawling relatively early and began crying and screaming the moment she wanted something. She certainly kept her parents of her feet.

Mika was a happy, adventure-loving child who certainly enjoyed to be outside a lot. She learned swimming at an early age and her love for dancing showed as soon as she could walk, honestly. She had always been a little feisty but to her family she’d also expose a love for plushies and Disney princesses.

As a teen, she’d become a confident and bold individual who’s tired of being the sole young chef of Tuscany and out to find a worthy rival. Mika certainly lives for the thrill of the challenges of Totsuki and practically embraces the competitive atmosphere. At the same time, her love for Disney movies involving princesses has ultimately developed in a deep fascination with all things romance and a strong longing to experience it herself.

As an adult Mika will have grown in experience regarding romance and does see everything a little less through rosy lens. She’ll remain a strong individual in her adulthood, who knows what she wants and how to step up against anyone who decides to be an obstacle. She’ll be a little calmer though and have her temper under a bit better control. 

🍇 Does your OC have any bad habits? Does your OC have any addictions like smoking or drinking? How did they fall into these habits and why? 

At times she does loose her temper a bit too quickly and it’s not always necessary to yell right away. She also tends to procrastinate when it comes to studying tings unrelated to cooking.

She drinks on parties and she does have a little tendency to party a lil’ harder than necessary sometimes. 

🔮What does your OC think is their best trait. What is actually their best trait? What about their flaws? Are they one to admit these flaws or do they like to pretend they’re perfect?

Mika thinks her best trait is her courage and I’d agree with her on that! 

A major flaw of her’s is that she can be a little bit inattentive to the people around her at times. She’s very unaware of this though. 

🌸 What’s a sentence that would make your OC’s day better? One that would make them laugh? One that would make their day worse? Why? What words would you have to say to them to completely ruin their day?

“Yukihira Hiraku is about to have a Shokugeki!” is a sentence that always puts her mood up. She loves watching Hiraku’s Shokugekis! She gets to see the person she admires in action and it’s also just a great experience overall as his matches are certainly thrilling, captivating and the rest of the audience is very into it as well.

A sentence that could ruin her day is anything that suggests something bad happened to Hiroshi. She’ll either end up pissed off at whoever might hurted him or worried for the rest of the day. 

🌷 How much effort does your OC put into their looks? Do they care much about how they’re dressed or what their hair looks like or are they not bothered? Could they be considered a snob or a slob?

She has a pretty well-developed fashion sense and does take her fine time choosing her outfits, no matter the occasion (unless it’s a school day because y’know then she knows what to put on: the uniform). She also takes good care of her skin, possesses some make-up skill and takes VERY LONG to shower. It’s all things she honestly just picked up from her parents mostly. 

❤️ What inspired you to make this OC? How long have you had them? How have they changed in the time you’ve been developing them?

Mika is one of the oldest Fanchilds of mine. She’s the fifth to ever be created, I think. She was created on that faithful night in 2016 where I decided to create more fankids after I had designed Chieko a few days or so earlier and took my drawing-tools to bed to sketch and color them ahdhd. Takumi/Ikumi is one of my first ships in the series as well and, back then, I didn’t saw much else option for either of them...so my decision to let them have a child was pretty automatic.

Mika did not change all too much over the years, really. What mostly got added recently is her frustrating love-triangle situation and also her story was just ironed out more over the years ahdhd but character-wise she remained more or less the same. Takumi and Ikumi honestly share a lot of the same character traits in the end and I think that’s a reason for that. 

🧡 What traits of your own do you see in this OC? Are they a little bit self-inserty? Don’t be shy, we all put parts of ourselves into the creations we love!

Hm, I don’t think I have all too much in common with Mika. She’s very brave and challenge-enthusiastic and I’m....one of the greatest cowards you’ll ever meet being frank. 

What we do share I guess is a strong love for the sea. Also, I do enjoy dancing (although I am not anywhere near the level she is) And I mean, she cooks Italian which is one of my favourite cuisines...but there’s really not much she takes after me ahdhd. She has much more in common with my mom than me being real. 

💚 Are you writing anything with this OC or planning on writing anything for them? Do you rp with them or are they just for fun to mess around with?

I have a few ideas but I don’t know if I’ll get to it soon.

💗 Ramble a bit about this character!

Mika, Mika, our beautiful helpless romantic Mika. Did I mention already how greatly her love-situation frustrates me? I really want her, the romance fanatic, to get happy with someone but ahhh who?? She’s also one of my first OCs and actually pretty dear to me and ahhh, WHY?!

But meep, aside from that and my whining about a situation I drove myself into; Mika is honestly really fun to write and I love the trio she’ll have going on with Kimiko & Hiroshi. It mirrors the classic Sōma/Megumi/Takumi-Trio in certain ways but it won’t be an exact rehash either so ahh. I’ll just enjoy writing this I think. 

Excerpt from WIP

Honey sat quietly one leg on the small wooden chair and the other swinging idly he looked out the window and tried to steady his breathing across him was the woman who birthed him. She was for the first time in his entire life silent.

Honey turned back to her and smiled she turned to face him giving him a tight lipped smile. Oh God that was never a good thing she was probably doing what she did best judging. Judging the small apartment for all it was worth and ofcourse nothing was up to her standards.

He hated this it made him feel like a child again silently waiting for mommy's approval he hated the position he was in, he hated how his little sister was looking at him with pity and worst of all he hated how he forgot to close the door and now everyone in the apartment floor was watching this embarrassing scene after all the people love a show and his mom loves an audience.

"Well it's very quaint...." the silence was broken.

"Uh yeah I know I was planning to move anyways" he responded and she nodded.

"Move where?" Honey but his lip and turned to look out the window again.

"I don't know maybe L.A." Fuck her lips got tighter doesn't that hurt.

" that's pretty far away and plus there is an easier access to drugs and the much nastier things in life there aren't they." well same with here but she doesn't need to know that.

" I know but-" " sit down properly you know i hate when you fidget."

Honey dropped his second leg " I know but the are also good things you know like Hollywood, Fun and you know-"

" I repeat drugs, alcohol, sex work and the other nastier things in life. Plus Los Angeles does not equate the whole of California."

"Well maybe if I go there I'll figure that out or maybe I won't." He siad standing up to face his mom.This was so fucking embarrassing he looked out the open door and someone was literally eating popcorn fuck this this is the first day of middle school all over again.

"Honey!" He turned back to his mom who had gotten up from the couch and stared at him irritated.

" Dear you were always so easily distracted" she rolled her eyes and smiled fondly.

And the worst fucking part of this is that Elijah and Teddy were sure as hell watching him he turned his head towards the door teddy had the decency to at least look concerned and Elijah well Elijah was amused and honey was embarrassed he felt his face growing warmer his mom was rambling on about something he couldn't hear her this is it all those years watching teenage girls coming of age story this is where he finally stands up to his mother this is where he turns to face her and tells her to shut the ever loving fuck up.

"Can you not talk to me like that"

Ok we're going a little of script but it had the same effect. His mother stared at his like she had been slapped she quickly composed her self.

"Like What?" She said shooting Honey a not so subtle warning look.

It's now or never .

" Like I'm a child" He said all of a sudden he remembered why he was so angry in the first place " you treat me like I'm a five year old child!"

" No I do not" she said "Honey, you're being hysterical."

"See that's what I mean you speak to me using this condescending, patronising tone like I'm incapable of thinking for my self mind you I am 18 I am legally old enough to have sex, get married, vote, do.. drugs -"

"There is no legal age to do drugs-" " I know!! see that's the thing it's like you refuse to believe I know things, you refuse to believe that maybe I can handle being alone."

"You have no idea what it's like being alone," she said, standing up gracefully like a cat great she is definitely pissed of. " You don't seem to understand that all I've done is protect you-"

" See that's another thing I don't even know what you are trying to protect me from!"

"Honey Bartholomew Calvis I am getting real tired of you raising your voice at me" ok now that was a warning.

" Oh full name I'm so scared" he mocked ok that was overkill he heard a laugh from the doorway.

Honey sighed " Mom I just want my independence."

"I, I understand." Honey stared at his mom in shock he didn't not expect that to work.

"You Do?"

"Yes" she said with a little laugh " You've made that very clear and I get that you want to feel like an adult" it worked it actually worked "How bout this you come home and we can discuss loosening up your restraints" Honeys heart dropped he heard a gasp from the doorway and a very dramatic "no"

" Did you not listen to a word I said?" His mom blinked and tilted her head. He felt his fist clench.

"I did and I agree with you. You deserve more independence and we will talk about that when we get you home."

"You missed the point!" Said a voice from the doorway his mom turned her head to glare at the offending sentence.

"For goodness sake mom Honey doesn't want to go home!" His little sister Judi had finally broken her silence.

" How many times have I told you not to put your nose into what doesn't concern you." She said turning to face Judi.

"It does concern me Honey is my brother -" " You're adopted" Judi rolled her eyes just as frustrated as He was " Yeah no shit you've reminded me every day since I was ten".

"I am not wasting my time on you. Honey let's go."

"No no no no" Honey said stomping his foot lightly to emphasise each no.

"Honey I swear to God I do not have time for your temper tantrum." His mom said facing him, she placed her palm on her forehead and closed her eyes.

"No it's not!"

"Yes it is!!" She said opening her eyes she was angry really angry.

" You ask me to treat you like an adult yet you are incapable of acting like one. Do you even know what having your independence entails, Do you know how difficult it is to "live in the real world". No you don't because I have handed everything to you every single thing so you don't get to make these desicions go down stairs NOW!!!" Honey felt his heart stop she was right he really doesn't know what any of this means the one week he tried to live on his own hasn't been peachy either he can't cook, he can barely shop for his own needs and he literally just found out how to clean an apartment. He has no idea what he's doing.

He turned to face the doorway people were still watching the scene unfold Teddy tried to look comforting, London gave him a sad smile, Brittney looked confused and Elijah well he just watched honey expectantly. But then it hit him no one knows what their doing literally no one like he doesn't think he's met some one who has got their whole life figured out well apart from Judi Teddy said everything he knows how to do he learnt from his Grandma and the rest he learnt on his own fuck even then he's still very confused who says Honey can't learn.

Oh right his mom but he think he can heck he eve wants to. Honey turned back to his Mom.

" No"

"Honey I want you down stairs in ten seconds."

"No I'm taking my independence whether you like it or not."

"Fine."

For the first time in Honey's life he felt like he won. But he didn't expect what happened next he felt a sharp sting on his right cheek and the loud gasp from the doorway confirmed what had happened.

Honey touched his cheek In shock his mom stared at him calmly like she didn't just slap him across the face.

"You want your independence fine you get your independence. From now onwards I officially disown you."

Honey mouth dropped open " What?"

"Yep you know to give you that real life experience." She turned to the door "Boys " suddenly his Mom's workers were in the room taking out things from the draw and closet.

" What are you doing?!"

" Taking back my property you know the items you bought with my money " Honey watched in horror as the men grabbed his clothes from the closet.

"You can't do that!" Judi shrieked .

"Quiet you, your lucky I'm not taking any of yours luckily I don't think it would be fair to leave a girl naked."

"But it's totally fair to leave me without clothes?"

"Oh what now you got a sex change?"

"Wow I can't believe I just-"

" This is for your own good Honey to show you what it's like and get this foolishness out of your head"

Honey stared at her heavily breathing and close to tears.

"Fuck You."

His Mom laughed " Suit yourself sweetheart. Boys clear up!"

Honey watched silently as everything he owned was taking away.

___________

Teddy knocked on the door of the apartment softly. Honey was sitting on his couch his head in his arms.

"Hey buddy" Honey replied with a groan. Elijah pushed past Teddy and walked in.

"They really took everything huh."

Teddy walked over to Honey and sat beside him "look on the bright side you get to go shopping?"

"With what money?" The shopping part was meant to be sarcastic but that was a good question.

"Where's Judi?" Elijah said leaning against the word.

"She went to go find a phone to call dad with" Honey mumbled lifting his head from his arm.

Teddy Tried to offer sort words of comfort but was cut of by Dara and Micah walking in.

"Oh I heard, Honey I'm so sorry" he said walking over to give Honey a brief hug.

"I brought ice cream and beer mostly beer." Said Micah dropping the items on a tiny stool and going to stand beside where Honey was sitting.

"This is so stupid, I'm so stupid" Honey muttered.

"Well someone finally said it"

Dara glared at Elijah who shrugged him off and sat down on the floor.

"Look this isn't the end of the world-"

"Yes it is! It's the end of my world what was I thinking how did i think that she would react. Happy? Nope, Sad? Absolutely not what I didn't expect her to do is take away everything I own. this is so stupid oh my GOD! "

"You've been saying the same thing for the past what five minutes" Elijah said rubbing his temple. Honey turned his attention to him he took a deep breathe this would be even more embarrassing if Elijah dare catch him cry.

"Ofcourse you wouldn't get it-"

"Oh I wouldn't get what that you have no fucking money? Yeah neither do a lot of people they're not dead yet."

" I literraly have nothing!" Honey said glaring great the tears were coming just great.

Elijah laughed " And? You have nothing so what! Are you just gonna stay hear crying about it, acting like a little bitch?, should I call your mummy ask her to come back and pick you up because congratu-fucking-lations you proved her point."

Honey placed his head back in his palms. This was just great he was such a spoilt brat. Dara glared at Elijah.

"Can you not-"

"What do you suppose I do now since your so smart?"

Eli rolled his eyes " Well hot shot get a job or at least start by looking for one."

"We can also find a way to get you new clothes thrift shops hell I can probably get you hand me downs" Teddy smiled finally breaking his silence.

"Candy wouldn't mind postponing your rent for a while I mean It wouldn't be the first time." Said Micah he had been silent through out all this slowly eating the ice cream all eyes turnrd to him watching him lick the spoon " I'm sorry I'll be honest I didn't bring this with the intent to share."

"Valentina gives put meals for free in return for some errands but your gonna have to do with out a laptop for sometime" Dara smiled " I'm sure you can survive."

Honey sighed and looked around. Elijah was no longer interested in the conversation about Honey's well being but was instead staring at his phone. He turned to look at Dara and Teddy.

"Plus do you really want to go back home to that bitch?" Teddy smirked.

Shit he was right! He would never live it down if he returned.

"Great I'm gonna have to fucking succed out of spite aren't I?"

Honey laughed you know this was a bit funny wasn't it? There is no way things can get worse can it?. Well even if it does he's just gonna have to prepare for it.

"Thanks." He said smiling at people in the room.

Well happy fucking independence day to him.

WIP Page: magicalmisstemi.tumblr/WIPRC

If you're still taking prompts. How about a cloqwork one where some students find Qrow in his crow form and Oz has to rescue him from the students who want to take him to a vet or the equivalent of. (Love your fics!!)

Thanks, anon!! Ngl, I had a lot of fun with this one :D 

“Ah, Tai. You’re early. Please sit. If you’d like I can have Poppy send up some…” Ozpin paused, taking note of the otherwise empty elevator. “Where’s Qrow?”

Tai immediately adopted a wounded expression, both hands rising to press against his heart. “Really? No ‘Good to see you, Tai’ or ‘How have you been, Tai?’ Three months with barely a word and you immediately forget about me for that overgrown child.” He gave a disgusted sniff. “I see how it is.”

Ozpin tried to tame his smile and largely failed. “Would you believe me if I said it was only because I fear what will become of Qrow if he’s left unsupervised?”

“…maybe.”

“I did miss you. Surely you know that.”

Tai’s banter faded in the face of Ozpin’s real concern. He shook his head, crossing the office to pull him into a rough hug. Ozpin froze for just a moment before he curved forward, letting Tai take some of his weight. A sigh escaped before he could call it back. Tai had always been a good hugger.

“Of course I know,” he said, rubbing a small circle into Ozpin’s back. “For someone who’s supposedly a genius you can be really stupid, man. Case in point: you married my brother-in-law.”

Ozpin made a choking sound that might have passed for a laugh. He pulled back. “I’m not sure many would consider that late night escapade to be marriage, precisely.”

“It is legal?”

“…technically.”

“Than you’ve got no wiggle room in my judgement.”

Fair enough. With a shake of his head Ozpin lead Tai firmly into the chair across from his desk, determined to play the part of host even if it was no longer needed between them. It also gave Ozpin time to pull back the tatters of dignity that clung to him and try to twist them into something protective. There’d been… a lot going on lately and seeing someone other than a peer or a student was more of a balm than Ozpin could say. Glynda herself had too much formality to dare break through his and James had needed someone to lash out at recently. Ozpin didn’t begrudge him that—the man had more on his plate than most—but he couldn’t pretend that it didn’t get tiring. Seeing someone sit in that chair for no other reason than because they wanted to visit… that was appreciated. Immensely so.

The only thing that would have made it better was if the man Tai was supposed to be visiting with had actually showed up. Ozpin’s eyes strayed back to the elevator, Qrow still nowhere to be found.

“He’s fine,” Tai said, knocking the sand pendulum on Ozpin’s desk so it made a deep ravine. He picked up a bit of the sand and rubbed it between his fingers. “We separated in Vale because I wanted to do some shopping for the girls. I thought he was coming straight here…” For just a moment a flash of concern crossed Tai’s features, then he shook his head. “But he probably got distracted. Maybe by the bar? Not that the bar is more important than you!”

Ozpin’s lip twitched. “Do you think me so sensitive that I’d take offense to my husband taking some time to himself?”

“You’re moping.”

“I am not!”

“I know what moping looks like on you, Oz. It’s distraction and churning your cocoa instead of drinking it.”

Ozpin froze, no longer turning his mug around and around in his hands. He scowled and set it aside completely.

“You’re an infuriating man.”

“And you love me anyway.” With a wink Tai bent to heft up the bag at his feet, depositing a number of clothes, toys, and various knick-knacks onto the desk. Ozpin watched the pile grow with tempered amusement. He finally tore his eyes from the elevator.

“I assume this is the shopping?”

“Ruby is five next month. Five.” Tai took up a little red dress and shook it forcefully in Ozpin’s face. “She’s growing like a weed now. Same with Yang and frankly I don’t know how I’m going to keep them both clothed.”

Ozpin picked up an article, eyebrows raised. “It might help if you invested in something other than pint-sized biker jackets.”

“And lose the look on my firecracker’s face when she opens this? Never. So… you gonna come to the party? It’s just a little get together. Nothing fancy.”

Tai already knew the answer though. He didn’t need to look up at Ozpin’s apologetic face to confirm it. He’d met Yang as an infant, holding her close and beaming so wide you’d think he’d been the father there… and yet he’d never once done the same for Ruby. Oh, Ozpin had been legitimately busy right after her birth, but by the time he was back in Vale, Summer had—

Tai stopped that train of thought, swallowing. And that right there was why he understood; why he was never mad at Ozpin’s various travels and meetings and obligations that inevitably came up. Because Summer had been special to Ozpin, all of Team STRQ had, and he couldn’t blame the guy if he didn’t want to look at the spitting image of his former student in infant form. Hell, some days even Tai found it hard and yes, he felt sufficiently guilty about it, thanks.

He wished Ozpin would try someday though. For him. Qrow. Ruby. Himself. They might look alike, but Ruby was her own, spitfire person. Five minutes would tell anyone that—and she was someone worth knowing.

(Though admittedly, he was a little biased.)

With a light chuckle he began replacing his gifts in the bag. Already Yang was mimicking her dad and uncle, attacking imaginary grimm with backyard sticks… and Ruby was mimicking Yang. Tai could easily see his girls attending Beacon someday and on the heels of that was the thought that this repressive, incredibly stubborn man might actually wait until then to see her.

Well. That’d be one hell of a meeting.

“I’ll send her a gift,” Ozipin said softly. He hesitated. “Anonymously. There are these wonderful plushies sold in town now. Handmade, you know. They’re quite good. Perfect for a little girl about her age. Yes. Perhaps I’ll get two.”

This was how Ozpin rambled: short, clipped sentences. Like his brain was firing too fast and he had to spit things out exactly as they came. Tai stood and moved to place a hand on his shoulder, hoping that his expression conveyed what his words probably couldn’t.

“She’ll love it,” he said. “Provided you understand that she and Yang will probably rip the plushie’s head off during a mock grimm battle. No toy is safe in our house. Nothing personal.”

Ah, there was the smile. “Hence why I’ll buy multiples.”

“Just more cannon fodder,” Tai countered, feeling the shoulder shake. “You know, one time I picked up Yang a—”

There was a beat of silence. “Tai?”

“Something’s going on.”

Which at a school for huntsmen could mean anything from generic teenage shenanigans to something that might end in a number of his students’ deaths. Ozpin was out of his chair in an instant, calmly moving Tai aside to get a look out the window.

Yes, there was a large - and now growing - group of students sequestered around something out front. Ozpin watched, concerned, as they all leaned in close at whatever had fascinated them. Something that was apparently on the ground...

... and then that something shot into the sky. It wavered, turned over once, twice, and then plummeted back to the earth. The crowd followed it eagerly and the circle reformed.

Tai had moved to rest his head against the glass in a gesture of defeat. “Please tell me that’s just some random crow out there.”

Ozpin was already halfway to the elevator.

“'Course not.” Tai snatched up his shopping and followed.

Never let it be said that a man with multiple lifetimes under his belt and access to the best Atlesian tech didn’t know how to plan properly. Most of the time the Beacon elevator was nice and slow—providing Ozpin with time to prepare for guests and guests time to prepare for him. Press the hidden button on the opposite wall though and you plummeted. They were downstairs and out the door in a matter of seconds.

Tai was still trying to find his stomach when Ozpin hailed his students.

“What’s this now? Something caught your eye?” Only old friends would have picked up on the hitch in his words; how he traversed the grass just a little more quickly than usual and without his customary cane. A boy with bright blue hair and twisting horns stepped back to let their headmaster through.

“We found it like this,” he said, pointing at the crow splayed out on the ground. “We didn’t hurt it or anything, sir, but I think it needs a vet.”

A girl nodded sagely. She was wringing both hands anxiously, staring imploringly up at Ozpin. “He’s not acting right. I’ve kept birds, sir—my family has aviaries—and I’ve never seen a crow act like this before.”

As if in response, said Qrow twisted around and finally caught sight of Ozpin and Tai. The effect was immediate: flapping his wings in a disorganized manner, a croaking (and yet somehow happy) caw making them all wince. Qrow flopped around more like a fish than a bird and a vein Ozpin’s forehead jumped.

“How much did you have to drink?” Tai hissed. Qrow tried to stand and only succeeded in falling onto his back, little feet kicking in the air. Ozpin briefly shut his eyes as the boy who’d first spoken bent a little closer.

“Huh,” he said, taking a large whiff. “He does smell like alcohol.”

“Okay.”

Time to clean up this mess before the kiddies discovered exactly how different this particular crow was. Or worse, Qrow himself got it into his head that now would be a perfect time to transform. Tai none too subtly elbowed Oz in the ribs and another student—hardly looking older than his girls, sweet dust—stared with open awe.

Ozpin nodded, expression tight. “I’ll take care of this.” He tried to muster up a smile for the students. “This is far from the first time an animal has wandered onto campus. I’ll make sure this… crow is well cared for.”  

“I’m sure you will.” It slipped out before Tai could stop it and oh, scary look from Oz.

He bent to retrieve their wayward companion—Qrow noticing his sudden closeness and trying to tumble towards him, that godawful squawk filling their ears—when the girl intercepted. Ozpin stared at the hand on his arm, bemused, but the girl was too busy shaking her head to notice.

“You can’t touch him barehanded, sir! He might be carrying a disease, or he could bite you…”

“I’m sure he won’t bite, Ms. Davis.”

“You can’t know that!”

It was probably the only time these youngsters had ever spoken back to their esteemed headmaster and Tai gave the girl props for sticking to her guns, no matter how unwarranted.

Although, he was a lot less amused when Ozpin reached in and stole Ruby’s new dress, using it to scoop Qrow up with.

“Hey!”

“Perhaps he’ll pee on it,” Ozpin murmured, lips twitching, and Qrow’s head perked up like basic bodily functions sounded wonderful right now. Tai had a finger in his face a millisecond later.

“Don’t you dare,” he hissed. “I will pluck you and use you as pillow stuffing.”

“Excuse me, but… do you always threaten birds? Who are you exactly?” The boy was staring unabashedly at Tai while the rest of the crowd openly cooed at Ozpin cuddling said bird to his chest. More than one scroll camera flashed.

Tai turned to answer and when he did Ozpin was already halfway across the grass, muttering something indistinct and besotted at the drunk-as-hell bird. Tai resisted a sigh. Lagging behind again, huh?

“Someone who has very poor taste in friends,” he said. Tai smacked a hand down on the boy’s shoulder. “Don’t be me, kid.”

“O…kay?”

“Good. Now, all of you go train or eat or whatever the hell it is Beacon kids do these days. Go fling yourselves off cliffs. That was a fun. Hey, did you ever hear about the time—?”

The kids scattered. Leave it to a reminiscing old man to do that job. With a shake of his head Tai turned back towards the tower, but Ozpin was now just a smudge in the distance, his arms a protective circle in front of him. Hmm. Maybe he really would give them some time alone.

“Second best. As always,” Tai muttered, but it was said with an unquantifiable fondness. He shot off a text to Oz letting him know he’d be back again tomorrow. He didn’t expect him to read it for some time. 

Do me a favor and grab a pic of Qrow in Ruby’s dress. We can add it to the skirt collection - Tai  

Nightmares - Bruce Banner x Reader

Title: Nightmares

Pairing: Bruce Banner x Reader 

Word Count: 2139

Warnings: None

Summary: After Bruce has a horrible nightmare, you try your best to calm him down before he hulks out.

Authors Note: This is one of my older works, so im so sorry at how bad it is eek. also i havent been posting that frequently ik im a horrible person whoops

You awoke to the heart wrenching screams of your boyfriend. Quickly you scrambled to the lamp switch, turning it on giving the room some sort of light. You jumped to Bruce’s side of the king bed and went to hold him in your arms. From what you could tell Bruce was having another nightmare, it wasn't anything new to you, it happened nearly every week, but recently it became a nightly routine. Not that you cared, you would never sleep if that meant you could hold Bruce in your arms to calm him back to restful sleep.

It always happened at around 2:30am, every single night (well morning), and that was when you started your day. You could never ever go back to sleep after witnessing Bruce’s meltdown, it hurt you so much it normally would cause yourself nightmares of something to do with Bruce, normally of him running away because he couldn’t bare the pain of losing you if he lost control.

You were never ever scared of the Other Guy, he was apart of Bruce and you loved every single part of him, even if half of him consisted of a huge green rage monster. You didn't care one single bit, you loved him unconditionally just for who he was. Green and all.

After the Chitauri attack on New York, Bruce’s nightmares were so much worse, and from the little information you got from Bruce when he briefly tells you about them they’re becoming a lot more vivid.

You didn't know how exactly to help the poor physicist. You couldn't really do a lot but calm him as best as you could and tell him that you love him and that you’re there for him. Thankfully it never ended with him going to the Safe Room because he never got too far to the point of changing.

But out of all of his daily nightmares this was much worse. You could tell already.

Bruce was flinging his arms about, a pool of sweat all over him, his head, neck, chest, everywhere. You wrapped your arms tightly around Bruce’s arm, squeezing it, and softly but loud enough you told him what you would always tell him.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, shhh, you’re okay, i’m here, you’re alright. No one’s going to hurt you here Bruce,”

That was what you normally told him every night but you weren't even halfway through your sentence before Bruce shot upwards his eyes a bright rich green. Frantically he looked around the room, expecting some sort of danger that came from his dream. Though there wasn't anything and so his breathing slowed a little bit and his shoulders becoming less tense. Until it didn't. He looked over to you where your faced with worry, his heart becoming even more heavy (if it was even possible for him) as he was of course the cause of your stress and worry.

“Oh my god, y/n. I-i’m so sorry. Oh my fucking god, i could’ve- i could’ve-” He rambled, hardy able to form a structured sentence. His breathing quickened once again and his eyes widened as he looked upon you.

“No, no, no, Bruce i’m fine. Don’t worry about me, i’m fine, babe, please listen to me,” But you knew Bruce was only spiralling even more from here. His mind was already worked up from his dream and now he’s only digging himself a bigger hole.

“I can’t be here- i dont know if i can control it any longer, please. I need to- i need to go to the safe room,” He choked, trying his best to hold back the tears as he pulled tightly into himself. The previous events of his dream playing in his mind and what could’ve happened if he lost control with you so close.

It wasn’t unusual for Bruce to have his panic attacks, you always could calm him down, as well as his nightmares, but combining the two together would be a piece of work. You didn't know if you could.

“JARVIS, alert someone that Bruce is having a panic attack. I might need some help on this to calm him down. I’m just taking him to the Safe Room now,” You anxiously asked, as you slowly crawled over to Bruce who was currently hugging himself.

“Of course, y/n, right away” The smooth programs voice replied, alerting the fellow avengers for help.

“Okay, i’m going to help you up, yeah? Get you to your other room,” You got up and gingerly went to Bruce’s aid to help him onto his feet, he was wobbly at first but held himself up without your help.

In a second Bruce sped out of the room, one hand held on his head and the other helping him hold up right, you could barely keep up with the man as he sped to the elevator. Honestly you didn't know what you could do to help your boyfriend.

As the two of you made it down to the floor of the Safe Room, all of the avengers were sleepily (except Natasha who seemed to already be awake) waiting for the presence of the two of you.

“Hey big guy, is every-” The engineer asked groggily, sleep still sounding evident in his voice as he went to rest his hand on his friends shoulder, but before he could finish his sentence Bruce snapped, his brown eyes long lost to his alter ego’s green eyes.

“Stay back!” He yelled pushing Tony off of him, thankfully not too forcefully otherwise he would have flown straight through the glass window.

Bruce’s eyes softened and quickly returned back to his normal coloured chocolate eyes and his eyes welled with tears again, his hands returning to his head.

“I-I’m so sorry, but please- please just stay back, i don't want to hurt any of you,” he softly said, as he made his way to the room. The avengers keeping a good distance from the man hoping to not distress him.

You slowly walked alongside bruce, you too keeping somewhat a good distance, though as soon as you reached the room bruce instantly slammed the door in front of you. It hurt him to ever do that to you, knowing all that you were trying to do was help him, but he couldn't at all risk your safety.

He looked at you through the glass window of his room, your eyes glistening with tears. God you hated seeing him there, he wasn’t just some animal that had to be caged. It was ridiculous.

Bruce slowly took himself to the corner of the room and slid down the wall. He hugged his knees and rested his head upon them, and wrapped his arms tightly around him.

You could tell he was shaking, and mumbling things to himself to try and keep his temper down but it didn’t seem to be doing anything helpful anyway.

You held your hand up to the glass, a tear slipping from your eyes as you watched your boyfriend.

“Y/n, I think you should get some rest-“ Steve started as he spoke from behind.

“I’m not leaving him, I’m staying here until he comes out,” you muttered, keeping your eyes on Bruce.

“Cmon, I’m sure Bruce wouldn’t want you staying up all night just for him-“ Tony said, holding your shoulders to guide you back to your empty room - - without Bruce.

Bruce from inside the cage couldn’t hear anything but with his mind currently filled up with rage and anger he wasn’t exactly thinking straight but he could tell that you were distressed and Steve and Tony weren’t exactly helping you.

“NO! For fucks sake I’m not leaving him! Just piss off and leave us alone, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have bothered you all!” You pushed at Steve and Tony chests to get them both away and towards the exit.

And Bruce was up on his feet in a second, the other guy almost ripping through to try and protect you from any threat. In the back of his mind (that was all too blurry to even comprehend for Bruce) he knew that his friends were only just trying to help, most likely get you back to your room for some sleep. But The Other Guy didn’t see it that way, all that Bruce could grasp at the moment was that you were being hurt by these men and Bruce needed to help. The Hulk needed to smash.

Bruce walked up to the glass, swearing at the current men in front of you, which none of you could hear as the glass was so thick it was soundproof.

With a sudden touch of Steve when he went to try and calm you down, as tears poured down your face, the hulk was released. Bruce held tightly at his head, pulling at his hair, but it was all too much. The hulk was too strong at this moment and he couldn't stop him. And so you, Tony and Steve were stopped mid sentence when you could easily hear the deafening roar of the monster.

“Bruce,” You murmured, as you looked upon the beast.

You walked slowly to the glass and held your hand up to it, the hulk tilting his head confused, seconds ago he could of sworn you were in danger and now what was happening? You seemed pretty okay, aside from the little tears he could just see in your eyes. You then walked to the door of the safe room where you went to open it.

“Do you think that is such a wise move, Lady y/n?” You heard the voice of the god of thunder echo through the room.

You only smiled before looking up, noticing that everyone still had stayed in the room for Bruce, and nodded your head.

“He would never hurt me, he loves me, the only reason he transformed was because he thought i was getting hurt when Steve and Tony were trying to take me out, So i just need him to know i’m alright,” And with that you walked calmly into the big room.

You smiled at the beast among you, he looked down at you intently checking for any signs of injury, but thankfully he found none.

“Why y/n sad?” Hulk finally said as he took a seat in front of you, crossing his legs together. As if a child sitting in front of their teacher, waiting to be told a story.

You chuckled softly wiping the tears away and sat in front of hulk.

“I was worried about Bruce, he had a nightmare and wasn’t coping too well,” You simply explained to the big goliath in front of you.

Silence washed over the two of you and it was nice. Even Hulk could have agreed, he had never gotten the chance to just sit calmly and not have to worry about anything in the world.

“Hulk? Can you promise me something?” You interrupted the silence, hulk grunted and softly nodded his head in response.

“Will you look after Bruce for me? I’m not as special or strong as you are, i try my best to but with your help we can keep Bruce safe. Do you think you can do that, Big Guy? For me?” You leaned out and held the Hulk’s giant size hand in yours and looked into his bright green eyes.

Again the Hulk nodded in response, understanding fully what he had been requested to do.

You got up and wrapped your arms around the large beast and rested your head against his warm chest. Hulk not really knowing what to do with this small human on him just softly put his hand on your back and held you close.

Before you knew it the man in your arms was shrinking back to normal size and you couldn’t help but softly smile.

“Y/n? W-what are you doing?”

“Shh, Bruce i was enjoying the moment. Really you’re a good hugger-- and warm,” You giggled digging more into Bruce’s bare chest.

“Please don’t tell me you came in here and hugged the other guy?”

“That Bruce, is exactly what I did. Plus we spoke about… things,” you smiled.

Bruce sighed pushing you softly from his chest holding your arms.

“You do realise I could’ve killed you? If that happened I-“

“Bruce, I know you’re worried about hurting me but trust me when I say, I can handle myself. The Hulk is honestly the last person that would hurt me,” you replied hoping to finally get that through to him.

Bruce didn’t say anything else but just looked deeply into your e/c eyes, trying to search for something, you wouldn’t know. He softly hummed, a small smile setting on his face before enveloping you in his warm arms once again.

Best Fake Smile II

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader 

Summary: Sometime after the Break Up, your ex decides to show up at your apartment, drunk and absolutely hostile

Warnings: Abusive Ex makes an appearance and name-calls

A/N: My best friend legit FORCED me to continue the ‘story about that blind guy’ and this happened...

 It had been a full week since the Break Up and meeting Matt Murdock at Josie’s, and you’ve been recovering so well; you dumped all of your ex’s junk belongings into a box and told him in a very-angry-and-borderline-threatening text message to pick them up or you’ll have them sent to the nearest thriftshop, you’ve learned to live life as a single woman once again, and honestly, you loved it. Before breaking up with him, you had a largely restricted life, having him tell you what to wear, who your friends were, warnings towards your male friends after any small ‘too-friendly’ contact...Truthfully, he was locking you in a cage as an attempt to hold you down and mould you to his desire, but now you knew, and now you are free from his chokehold on your life. 

Well, as free as you could be, until one fateful Friday night, you chilling in front of the TV with a sizeable tub of Ben and Jerry’s, the only two men you could count on, when a violent hammering at the door shifted your attention, one that belonged to an impatient and pissed off man. “Open up you slutty bitch!” It was a voice you recognized, one you hoped you’d never have to hear again. “I know you’re in there!” 

Opting to stay quiet and feebly pray that he’ll go away, you muted the TV, putting the ice cream away as silently as you could, only for your ex to continue yelling more obscenities and threats in the event you neglect to open the door for him. He’s fucking crazy, you thought, grabbing your phone to dial 911 in case it ever comes to that. Unfortunately, your unlucky door fell victim to the ferocious temper of your ex, you yelping in shock when the door flew open with a loud bang. “You destroyed my fucking door!” You yelled at him, not caring if you weren’t exactly supposed to be at home according to your pathetic plan of hoping he’d go away. 

“Trust me, you little cunt, your door will be the least of your problems when I’m done with you.” He growled before he lunged towards you, your feet betraying you during your attempt to run away from him, slipping up thanks to your suddenly-very-slippery-carpet. 

“Get the hell away from me!” You scrambled for something, anything you could use against the brute of a man you used to call lover, only to find nothing, nothing to weaponise except for your blind fear of him, fear of being assaulted by him. How could I have ever loved this monster? It was in that moment, your ex, with all his violent strength, grabbed ahold of you by the ankles and dragged your much smaller figure towards him across the floor, you trashing wildly at the man, kicking him in the face in the process. 

“Fucking slut!” His hands went up to nurse his most probably broken nose, leaving you to get up on your feet, using your TV remote control as a minimum-damage weapon. “Running around with that fucking lawyer from TV! You think you can run away that easily?!” He bellowed loudly, your heartbeat rising way too rapidly when he mentioned Matt, your blind lawyer friend. Has he been following me?

“For the record, I kind of like that lawyer guy.” A third voice, one you vaguely recognize but couldn’t put your finger to it, voiced out from the doorway where there used to be a fully-functioning door. “He sounds like a good guy.” Both you and your ex glanced curiously towards the doorway, your eyes widening as you realized who the newcomer was; the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, complete with the red suit and ridiculous horns, was standing right in your living room, glowering at your now-livid ex. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are, coming here and interrupting me?!” 

“No, I believe it should be ‘Who the hell do you think you are, barging into this woman’s house and attacking her?’.” Daredevil shot back, shutting down your ex’s feeble protests. 

“I’m her boyfriend, asshat, and I wasn’t even attacking her!” He blatantly lied to the vigilante, you and him sharing a look of disbelief due to your former lover’s false statement. “If anything, she attacked me!” He pointed at his broken nose, then turning to you in anger. But before he could do anything to you, Daredevil lunged towards your ex and had gotten a couple good hits in before the two entered a fistfight right there in your living room. 

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had your ex pinned by the throat and delivered a relentless series of blows to your ex’s ribs like an unstoppable machine, up until your ex broke free and tackled the red-suited man onto your coffee table, which shattered into a mess of glass and metal under the combined weight of the two brawling men. Fortunately, Daredevil regained the upper hand by head-butting your ex, then composing himself by standing up and retaliating with an uppercut that snapped his opponent’s head back; he was the clear winner of the fight when your ex slumped to the floor, unconscious. 

Shocked by what you had witnessed, you only stared at the man in the red suit, stunned to silence. Turning to you, Daredevil asked, “Are you hurt, (Y/N)?”, before stepping over your ex’s body to be by your side, you visibly shaken. “Did he hurt you?” You shook your head no like a little child, a little confused on how the hell did the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen know your name. Does he have a list of people who lives in the city or something?

“I’m fine, but my coffee table isn’t and I really loved it.” You glanced forlornly at the mixture of shattered glass that was your coffee table on your carpet, knowing all too well that clean-up would be life-draining. “One of my friends gave it to me when I first moved here, and- hang on a minute, I know your voice, you’re...Matt...?” At the mention of friends, it suddenly struck you of how similar Matt and Daredevil’s low, almost eerie-calm voice was, to the point where Matt freaking Murdock, the Murdock of Nelson and Murdock, was an actual possible candidate due to the similar build and height as well. “It makes sense! Nelson and Murdock were working on that freaky Wilson Fisk guy’s case, and so was the Daredevil, and now the Punisher guy-” You began to ramble, just as he tried to cut you off. 

“It’s merely a coincidence, I’m not affiliated with Mr Mur-” Before he could finish his sentence, you caught him off-guard by executing one of those leg-sweeping techniques you learned some years ago, the result being Daredevil flat on his back. Surprised and determined by your ability to knock the red-suited vigilante down, you knelt and removed the mask from the man, revealing one frustrated Matt Murdock, eyes unfocused but knowing that his oh-so-secret identity had been compromised by the woman he had tried to save. 

“You have so much explaining to do.” 

@cigarettes-leatherjackets @nekodresden85 @dare-the-punisher @secondhandsmokemoncherie @batsofanarchy @welcome-to-awesometown @instantangelstudent @nerdyforyourbooks @claraoswald81 

*laughs* 

I freaking love cliff-hangers and then not posting the next ones until...idk next year? HAHAHAHAHA

Tom Vs The Forces Of Evil (Au), Chapter 12

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Tom could feel himself significantly get worse as the days grew closer to Friday, and it was becoming harder for him to hide it from Marco. He had to keep excusing himself into the bathroom or to go practice spells so he could calm himself down before he hurt someone. Marco was no stranger to the boy's temper so occasionally he could tell something was up and would step in to help and ask what was the matter. Tom as per usual blamed most of it from the stress of his dad, or getting another bad grade in school, or bullies picking on him. Marco didn't ask further questions and would try and relax him. It was eating Tom on the inside how much he was keeping from Marco. His newfound crush, how he tortured that monster, the threats against him, anything on the bond in general, he couldn't keep this from Marco forever. The crush thing could come and go, but the rest were never going away, he couldn't just expect his dad to forget about Marco, and the bond and wretched torturing were never going to leave his mind no matter what. It was only a matter of time before all these secrets bit him. But there were so many risks to it, especially if his dad caught wind of him telling Marco any of this. Which is why Star's return was so thankful, having any ear on his dad made him feel a lot better these days.

He was sitting on the floor in front of his mirror, talking to his ex, something he never really thought would happen again after the ball. Star wasn't a great listener, far from it, she could barely stand still most of the time, and those pointy ears were focused elsewhere sometimes. But she was all he had as far as getting much from Mewni, Ponyhead was too much of a blabbermouth to talk to about anything serious. At least Star could keep a secret. The girl's ears pricked up as Tom spoke about...It, he blasted the floor with a spell, not hiding how sad he was in front of her. "You....like Marco?" "Yeah...." Tom muttered another spell under his breath, and tiny animals erupted from his wand. "But he doesn't..?" "Yeah...." "Tom, i'm sorry...." "It's not your fault Star, just my luck I suppose...I mean, Marco probably wouldn't date me anyway, it's fine..." "Tom....i'm sure that's not true...", Star argued," Marco really likes you, i'm sure he'd date you..." "Well if Marco really wanted to date me then why didn't he?", Tom snapped at her, fighting back tears, "It's not like i-I'm...seeing anyone else anyway?! Star, he doesn't like me like that ok?! He's had this crush for years!! Why did I think i could just walk up to him and ask him out when I knew he liked someone else?!" Tom zapped another part of the floor, leaving a hole in his floor, he quickly fixed it up before anyone noticed and looked back up at a more concerned Star. "Tom..." "I just can't like someone, no...the world just has to tell me how unlovable I am every time.....", Tom complained, more to himself then the princess before him. "Geez, how does my dad expect me to even have a heir if no body even wants to date me?" "Tom...Hey, it's- " "The only two people in the world I like enough to date, and i can never be with either.....and i just...i'm stupid....", Tom pulled his legs towards him and buried his face in them , "I'm so stupid.....I just....I wish i didn't like Marco..." "Tom, you know that's not true...", Star said, "It's not bad for you to like him, you don't have to be ashamed of it..." "Then why am I being punished for it?", Tom mumbled, "I-I just..." "Crushes don't always work out..", Star said, sitting down herself, "But...you’re stronger, for still being Marco's friend..." Tom looked up and wiped his eyes. "I mean, you still want him to be happy with whoever he likes, you still want to be his best friend.....that's really strong of you.." Tom sniffled, "Yeah..." "You're a good friend Tom...." Tom didn't reply, he wiped his nose onto his knee and tried to calm himself down. Star sighed, she was going to regret this. "Tom, Marco and I have been talking.....he came to me....to ask about your dad....", She said, making the boy look up, but before he could get angry she held out a hand. "He was concerned, he wanted to help you, he wants you to be safe....he wants....you to live with him instead.." Tom's sudden look of anger turned into one of shock and affection, he blushed, and ran his fingers through his pink hair. "He....he's trying to take me away from my dad?" "My Mom's looking into it....he just.....Marco wants what's best for you too Tom...", she bit her lip, flashing her pointed teeth, "Tom, no matter what you think, you're Marco's entire world....he puts you first just as much as you put him...Jackie is never going to replace you.." "He's allowed to have other friends to care about it's just...", Tom looked off to his side at the rabbit cage, and Star realized he was indicating he didn't have many other friends to hang out with. She smiled, "Well, that's just it then!!! You, me, and some other people should hang out together!!! Having more friends then Marco outta help you get over it!!" "Yeah...maybe..", Tom said, done crying, "Maybe I just...need some time away...with other people.." "Yeah, you can come over to the Underworld!!! you got anyone you could call?" Tom, picturing a blabbering ponyhead and a beanie-headed girl, "I guess there is some people i could invite..?" "Awesommmmme!!", Star giggled, "Let's do it.....This Friday!!! Sound good?" Tom looked to his bedroom door, knowing Marco was talking to Jackie in his own room down the hall, the girl he was asking out the very same Friday. Something was better then nothing. "Yeah....let's do it..." - Friday couldn't come soon enough for Tom honestly, the day he was regretting at the beginning if the week slowly made him much more excited. He'd get to hang out, spend time with other friends and away from the drama of his dad and Marco. He needed a new safe space. Marco wondered why Tom didn't want to go with them and Tom mumbled out that since he was asking Jackie out he didn't want to make it awkward, followed by Tom wishing him luck, Marco appreciated it ; But he was clearly very disappointed. He didn't tell Marco he was going anywhere when Marco went out to meet Jackie, there was no point in making a big deal about it anyway, they shared a hug before Marco left and Tom closed the door behind him before cutting open a portal to the underworld. Janna was already there, and so was ponyhead, both talking happily with Star. Tom already felt like a 4th wheel. He was the only boy here and only now did he realize that. They all turned to him when he entered, Star grabbed his arms and yanked him over to him. "I found your friends!! They're suuuuuuupppperrr cool!!!", Star bounced up and down in place, "Janna over here wants to show me around earth someday!! And Ponyhead is supppper fun!!!! But now that you're here, we can do some fun stuff!!" "B-flyy!", Ponyhead looked Tom up and down, "You looked trashed, you do something crazy?" "What? No...I-I'm fine...", Tom mumbled, too sad to even demand to be called Tom. Janna and Star exchanged knowing looks. "Where's earth turd? You guys stop being besties...?" "I don't wanna talk about it lilacia-" "Did earth turd hurt you? I told you he was bad new-" "Let's do makeovers!!", Star interrupted, "C'mon Tom!! I'll do your eyeliner and Janna can do your nails!!!" Tom was about to protest when he realized that they were trying to distract ponyhead. "What am I supposed to do?",Ponyhead protested. "You can go pick out some music!!!" Star suggested, and she went looking around for the demon's radio. Tom didn't protest when the girls starting doing his make-up, at least they weren't doing anything malicious to him as he was trying to heal from everything happening to him. Knowing them they'd probably do who knows how much damage to Echo Creek together. He couldn't help but think of Marco though, Marco loved to help with Tom's makeup. Tom liked to ramble on sometimes and Marco would listen while he helped him, careful not to hurt his friend. Tom liked Marco's little nods and hums as he worked, they were little things but Tom tended to always pay attention to the smallest things. He must have looked a bit sad because Star was giving him a concerned face, she finished up his eyeliner and produced a smile. Ponyhead had finally managed to put music on, which Tom easily recognized as a Love Sentence Song. Janna finished up Tom's nails and Star pulled Tom onto his legs, "C'mon, you wanna dance? It could be fun!!!". Star started to dance wildly and it didn't take long for Janna and Ponyhead to join her, He knew Star was trying her best, but everything just reminded him of Marco. Marco fit into his life so perfectly that it was going to be a challenge cheering him up. Still Tom attempted to try and dance a little bit, tapping his feet and swaying from side to side. It wasn't making him feel a lot better, but at least he was trying. Star must have noticed too, because she grabbed Tom's arms and tried to help him move but with no effort. She frowned before using fire from her boots to help her fly, Tom looked up at her and she attempted to lift him off the ground. He clung to her a bit and managed to laugh, but then Janna jumped on Star's back, adding to the pile. Janna was a bit too much weight for Star though, and the three of them fell on her bed, laughing. "Janna, I was trying to cheer Tom up!!", She said with a smile. "I know...", Janna snickered, "But that doesn't stop me from wanting a ride too.." Star looked over at Tom, and a grin spread upon her face. "You'reeee smilliinnnngggg~", She teased. Tom made a fake pout and covered his face, "Pft, I don't smile Star you know me, i'm dark and broody..." "You have a pink rabbit Tom..." "So?" Star punched Tom's shoulder, giggling, "Wierdo..." Tom lightly punched her back, "You're a weirdo..." Star got Janna off of her and fixed her dress, "C'mon guys, let's play a game now!! Ponyhead!? How about you pick the game?" Ponyhead, who'd been watching them this entire time, felt relief being able to be more in the center of attention. "Alright FINALLY, how bout...TRUTH OR DARE!!" Tom shuddered, playing truth games with ponyhead was never fun. Especially since the last thing he wanted right now was to talk about himself and his secrets. Star also noticed the problem and tried to step in, "Or we could do another game?! Like uh-?" "Girl, you said I could pick the game!! That means I pick the game, which is truth or dare, so we're playing..", She went to the center of the room and the rest started to follow, Tom could see Star end him an apologetic look his way. Tom shifted nervously, and could only hope ponyhead had no intention of asking him anything personal. They sat in the circle, and Tom was happy to see Star and Janna next to him on both sides, both being protective of him. Before ponyhead could do anything Star put her hand out, "I'll go first, er....Janna!! Truth or Dare?" "Dare!!!", Janna said immediately. "I dare you....to show us what's inside your boot!!!", Star shouted, pointing at said boot. Tom gave the demon a weird look, "Why do you think something is in her boot?" "A demon knows Tom...", Star said with a smile. Janna shrugged and took off her boot and shook it upside down. A bunch of stuff fell out to Tom's surprise, her cellphone, a pocket knife, a pack of gum, a recite for who knows what, Marco's house keys, and a roll of tape. Tom just looked at her in confusion, "How do you keep all that in your boot and not feel uncomfortable?!!" Janna shrugged, putting everything back in her boot and putting the boot on her foot again, "Eh, it's not as bad as what i keep in my socks...." Tom was about to question it when Star nudged him and spoke, "Ok Tom, it's your turn!!!" "Oh uh.....Star?!! Truth or Dare?!", he said on instinct. "TRUTH!!", She replied. "Uh...what did you learn in training? Like....what did you learn while you were away?" "Oh!! Well, my mom wanted to take me to train in a farther part of the underworld!! So i got to use axes and swords and I also finally got taught how to work with souls!!", She looked rather excited as she spoke, "My family has always taken care of souls on mewni and maybe soon i'll learn to raise the dead!!! It'll be so cool!!" "You don't know that spell already?", the prince looked at her in confusion, "I thought that was a bit more basic?" "Mom thinks i'll raise the dead for myself if i don't become more responsible, she's just being ridiculous....", Star huffed, "It's not like i was gonna summon the dead to get me food or anything, just for funsies....plus it's draining....i'd be too tired after awhile.." "Oh well, I hope you get to learn it eventually, i'm sure it'll come in handy...", Tom simply said, sometimes he wishes he could raise the dead, his ancestors were probably better company then his dad anyway. "Ok...my turn..", Janna announced, "Pony, Truth or Dare!" "DARE!" "I dare you, to...let me reach inside your neck!!!" Ponyhead groaned loudly, "Uhh...fInnneee, but don't touch my stuff, i don't wanna find my cell in your boot...." Janna grinned and reached next to her and into ponyhead's neck, she didn't seem too amused as Janna grinned. "How do you poop? I mean....you're hollow...." Janna said, "I mean, it's cool either way but..' Ponyhead immediately shook her off, "Ok turns over...MY TURN!" Tom's heart stopped. "STAR!! TRUTH OR DARE!!!?" Then it came back. "Uh.....DARE!!", she replied, flashing fangs. Tom let out a sigh of relief, at least Ponyhead's new liking to Star kept her distracted from him. "Show me one of your demon spells!!! Make something!!" "Uhh...", Star bit her lip and stood up, Tom could hear her chanting something under her breath and see her eyes start to glow. Tom leapt as some of the floor came apart underneath him and morphed into what looked like a small dog. Star's eyes stopped glowing and she regained her normal cuteness and picked up the small sculpture, "Demons have telekinetic abilities, but this spell kinda makes stuff come to life.....i haven't really mastered it yet...." Tom clapped, "I like it...." She smiled and sat down. "Thanks Tom...ponyhead, truth or dare!!" "Truth...", she replied simply. "How long have you and Tom been friends?", She asked sweetly, looking at both of them. "Oh? Me and b-fly have been friends since we were kids....we used to get in SO much trouble together, we used to sneak out and PARTY and his dad got Sooooooo mad!! Although he was kinda a downer most of the time, he used to sit by himself more then dance with the rest of us." Star looked over at Tom, who was looking away from everyone, he didn't seem to want to talk about this. "Well that seems cool!!", Janna piped in, also noticing Tom's mood change, "Tom? Uh....your turn!" She was clearly trying to change the subject immediately and Tom silently thanked her for that. "Oh uh..... Janna? Truth or Dare?", He asked, still thinking about those nights at the bounce lounge. Sometimes he forgot why he even used to sneak out, he never had too much fun at social events, but then again he wasn't very good at being social to begin with. "Truth..", she answered confidently, "And no, you can't date me..." Tom wasn't amused, "Why do you have Marco's keys in your boot?" "Why not?", She shrugged, Tom was about to interject when she cut him off. "Besides, these aren't Marco's actual keys, i got these copies done awhile back, cool right?", She said, now jingling said keys around, "Now if i had a skeleton key that would pretty sweet, but this is nice enough when I need to get some lunch from Marco's fridge.." "Do you even have your own house?", Tom asked. "Uh uh, one question at a time..", Janna said, "You'll have to wait your turn again to ask....now I'm going...". She looked Tom up and down, with a grin that made her scarier then even the demon in the room, "Tom....truth or Dare?" "Dare..", He blurted out, he would have to play at some point, the best he'd have to do would be to choose dare each and every time. "Let me hold your wand....", She held out her hand towards him, still grinning and Tom tightened the grip on his wand a little bit more. "My Wand's an important heirloom...I-I uh....that's probably not a good idea", Tom already felt upset enough about him throwing it, if anything else happened to it he was sure his dad would actually kill him in his sleep, and he might not blame him. "Dude, i just wanted to hold it....not use it..." "No....I said no...", He said a bit more angrily. Tom stood up, "I think i'm done...I don't wanna play anymore....". Star looked concerned, Janna was crossing her arms, and Ponyhead looked unhappy, "B-fly, if you're not gonna do the dare then- uh.....what happens when they don't do the dare?". She looked to Star and the demon thought for a moment, "Uh.....punishment?" Janna stood up, "Y'know, that could be funny, what'cha guys wanna do? We could dump ice water on him?" Tom backed up, "Guys, i just wanna stop ok? I'm not having fun anymore....can i just....can I leave?", He felt himself getting angry and he felt tears coming on again. Star bit her lip, "Yeah, let's just...move on to something else...." "Awww, c'mon, I wanted to do my turn!!!" Ponyhead whined. Tom grumbled, wand turning a noticeable green again, "Look, I don't feel like it ok?  I came here to have fun and play games and feel better and I don't feel like being messed with, or having my stuff touched, or being picked on.....I just....I need to be alone...." Tom stormed out of Star's bedroom door, closing it behind him and back falling against the door, sniffling. He didn't know what was up with him but he couldn't hold himself together right now, he swore a bit under his breath and cried a bit when Star teleported in front of him, frown upon her normally smiley face. "Tom, I'm really sorry..." "No, it's me....i'm just....i'm not right..." She sat down in front of him, "You wanna talk?" "Everything is falling apart....", He mumbled through his sobs, "My entire life, is nothing but a joke....a freaking curse. I get stuck with these stupid anger issues from my stupid father, keeping me from having friends for years....can't even talk to someone, be social half the time....because i'm just gonna drive them away...." Tom couldn't remember a time where Star sat still and listened to every word he said, but now all her focus seemed to be on him. "Then I finally get to escape him, t-to get rid of my issues....so I can be liked, end up making the best friend I could ever have, someone who cares about me, and wants to help me and stays with me despite me being a big jerk and getting upset....and then I start to LIKE him, but no....he doesn't like me back so I have to keep even that quiet!! Y'know? Right next to all my injuries from my dad and my family history and all the other secrets i have to keep from my best friend in the entire world because i don't want to lose him forever..." He clenched his fists, "But I can't be upset about it because being upset makes me do bad things, it makes me someone i hate....and being angry is wrong. Just like being myself is wrong to my kingdom, or how much i'm putting Marco's life at risk for even being close to him..." Star could see a faint green glow start to form in the boy's cheeks and eyes and he got more and more upset, "I just want to stop, I just want to be happy, live a normal happy life where i don't have to keep secrets or be terrified of the future, where I don't have so much pressure to be this perfect prince i'm not..." Star refused to move, despite tom clutching the floor behind him now, becoming more and more angry, "Marco is doing so much for me, he wants me to stay with him and even i don't know if I can do THAT, because me being there will only put him in more danger or i'll hurt someone...." Tears ran down his face heavily, "No matter how much I try to move on, it's never going to just go away I just want it all to stop....." It was sudden, but in a flash the demon princess wrapped her arms around the crying boy, Tom relaxed instantly, returning to normal and sobbing into her dress. "It's all my fault....If i hadn't come to eart-" "Tom....", Star started, "It's not your fault....none of this....is your fault...." "I deserve this...." "Tom, stop..." "Star, I know you're just trying to help, but no matter what i'm never going to escape this, i wish i didn't have to think about it, I wish i could just not talk about my life but I'm never going to move on until I get rid of it...." "Tom, you're going to get better, this isn't going to last forever..." "So much for my anger management..." Star grabbed Tom's shoulders and forced him to look into her eyes, She looked just as sad as he did frankly, but she wasn't crying. "Tom, I know moving on is hard for you, and it hurts now.....but it's not going to hurt forever....demons suffer all kinds of eternal pain deeper then yours..." "But-" She covered his mouth with one of her clawed hands, "Tom, it's ok to cry, and be angry, and be hurt....y-you don't have to hide it, you don't have to bottle it in cause you're scared or worried.....". Tom shifted, "You didn't think that before....you dumped me....", Star winced a bit. "I know...but I also had no idea about your Dad, and everything you were going through....and i'm sorry I made you feel like being upset was wrong....", She bit her tongue, "Tom, you're not gonna get better by not being angry again....never being angry....sounds weird...you just...need to find a way to be angry in a healthy way....not with the weird green magic.." "Why are you of all people telling me this?", Tom asked, sniffling. Star rubbed her neck in embarrassment, "I've had one too many talks with Brian.....he may of...made me think about you more then I wanted to..." Tom managed a smile out of his sadness, "You make it sound so awful..." Star made a face, "Sorry!" "No it's ok, Y-you make it sound so easy.....controlling my anger like that..." "I never said it was easy...", She said, "But nothing is going to change unless you allow it..." Tom wiped his face, "I-I wanna talk to Marco, No, I need to talk to him...He needs to know, he needs to know everything....I can't just...I can't keep hiding things from him, I promised to be honest and he's better off knowing even if...", Tom closed his eyes, "Even if we can't be friends anymore afterwards...." Tom pulled Star into a hug, "Thanks for just...Thanks...." She hugged him back, "Are you gonna be ok?" "Yeah...I just....I can't...I need Marco, I need to talk to him....even if he never talks to me again...he needs to know...", Tom stood up, "He needs to know about my Dad, that's he's in danger....that we're talking again, and that I...I..." Star nodded. "Hey Tom, Your birthday is almost here right?" Tom looked at her, a bit strangely, "Yeah?". "Can I come?" "You wanna come to my birthday party?", Tom actually looked surprised. "Yeah....I don't know about you and Marco...but...no matter what, you should have someone to party with..", She shrugged, "I mean.....it'll only be more fun with me there to dance...". She twirled around to demonstrate, Tom's tears dried. He almost forgot just how much she used to make him smile. "Yeah..I-I'd love to have you there..." Star squeaked in excitement, "EEeeeeeee!! I'm so excited!! I'll make it extra special for you Tom, Birthday's are the one day a year it's all about you and how special you are!! No one should be sad on their birthday!!!", She jumped up and down. "You'll see Tom, You're party is gonna go super great, Marco and you are gonna work it out, and things will get better..." Tom sighed, "M-maybe..." "Tom....C'mon...smile...it's gonna be ok...", She said calmly, "Now that you've kinda let it all out, you can start to work on solving it..." Tom forces himself to smile a bit, "It feels good...to talk about it..." "I'm sorry this event wasn't fun.......",Star apologized suddenly,"You don't have to stay...if you don't want to.." "No Star, You're right....I can't rely on Marco my whole life....I need to have other friends.....", Tom explained, "Just like how Marco can have Jackie...". He then crossed his arms, looking at the floor, "I think, I just need to work some things out first....I can't force myself to get better...I need time.." "Ok....",Star said, understanding. "But...I'd love to do this again, when...things are better?", Tom added, "It's still one of the nicest things someone's done for me....and..It's kinda fun having a group of friends to hang out with and play games with....I don't wanna be a downer on your fun..." "Tom, you we-" "Star, I was....just..you and Janna kept worrying about me, trying to keep me calm and happy, I don't want you guys to have to do that. I-I need to take some time to myself....for awhile..take care of some things....come back with a clearer mind...", Star nodded, understanding. Tom pulled out his scissors, "I'm gonna head home....before Marco gets back, take Janna home and tell her and ponyhead i'm ok and I just need some space..." "Are you sure you're even ready to tell him?", she asked. Tom took a step forward into the portal home, sad smile plastered on his face as he waved to his Ex. "No, not at all....but there's never exactly going to be a right time....." - Tom paced back and forth, awaiting Marco's return home. Part of him was regretting the choice to leave the Underworld and stop hanging out with his other friends, because despite how he felt on his inside it was still nice to have company surrounding him and making him laugh sometimes. He didn't even know where to start when speaking to Marco, would he start with the fact he could be in mortal danger with his father? Or with the fact Tom was growing a crush on him? There didn't seem to be a right answer to all of this on what was better for him to do. He thought about backing out but fought the urge. No, he was never going to get better by hiding his problems from Marco, at least if Marco knew he could help him come up with a solution. That Tom's inner thoughts could stop hurting him, that he could know for sure how Marco felt about him. He needed to stop hiding, it was time to face the music. He felt his heart drop when he heard Marco come up the stairs and knock on his door, "Hey Tom? I'm back!! Can I come in?". "Yeah.", Tom replied way too quickly, trying to regain his posture. Marco walked in and Tom was expecting him to be smiling or frowning from his time with Jackie, but he looked oddly neutral when he took a seat on Tom's bed. Tom watched him and took a seat next to him, "Marco? Uh....something wrong? Did you ask out Jackie?". Marco didn't answer, in fact he wasn't looking at him. "Marco?" "I couldn't do it....", Marco mumbled, "We went to the skatepark, she taught me some skating moves, I got to watch her on the board and we talked and had fun but I just....I couldn't ask her...I got cold feet Tom". The human looked sad, he covered his face with his hands, "I feel so stupid....". "Marco, y-you're not stupid....", Tom said, "When you really like someone, and you wanna ask them stuff....it's ok to be scared...". Tom reached over and touched Marco's back, "It's just....a big thing, and you can't take it back either...". "I felt so confident I could do it too......", Marco rambled on, "And I just....froze." Tom's arm wrapped around his friends torso and pulled him close, Marco's head fell on his shoulder, "It's ok...you'll have other chances...". "I know....It just sucks....", Marco sighed, "But enough about me,  What were you up to while I was out?I kinda missed having you there..." "Oh....nothing special...", Tom replied, "But...Marco...I need to talk to you...". Marco looked surprised, "Did something happen? Please tell me your dad didn't-" "No but...Marco, I-I ...You're in danger....", Tom managed, just barely. "Tom? I'm always in danger, we fight monsters together....", Marco started, removing himself from Tom. "No, M-my Dad....threatened to hurt you...when I went to see him...h-he...", The boy tried his best to relax, but he was clearly trembling, "I had to torture a monster in front of him and I couldn't and he was gonna hurt you and I should've said something before but I was scared he would do something horrible to you if he found out an-" Marco held Tom's shoulder, trying to clam him down, "Tom Tom!! No, Hey, it's ok.....". Marco was clearly still in a bit of shock, his heartbeat going a bit faster knowing Tom's father actually paid attention to him, and was using him against Tom. "Marco, stop saying it's ok, it's not ok.....I put a target on your back!!! And I've been hiding it from you for awhile now!! I should've warned you about my Dad, I was just...I was scared......and I did some bad things because I was scared!!" "Tom..." "I don't like hurting monsters ok? If they attack me first, sure I'm gonna defend myself...but hurting someone worse then how my dad hurts me....makes me feel awful!!! And I had nightmares for awhile about it and I-I just....I didn't want you to feel like I was a terrible person!!!" "Tom, you're not a terrible person....he made you do it....don't blame yourself..I'm not angry at you, you're scared of him...", Marco was trying to relax Tom, but the boy seemed too stressed, and very ashamed. Tom hugged his arms, sniffling, he didn't want to cry again today. "Marco, I come from a long line of kings like my dad, this is how things have been done for years, years of abuse on monsters and everything we've done. Marco, I've told you I want to be myself, grown to be me and not end up like my dad and you've told me i'm better then my dad. But.....I've never told you a lot about Mewni and it's history and maybe...I was just worried if I told you, you'd think.....That I was...", He trailed off, "I'm ashamed of my family Marco.....I didn't want you to know we've all been like this for generations....it's not something I'm proud of." "Tom....you can't pick your family.....", Marco said softly, "Your family has done some...bad things.....but you're different. You....You know what it's like...to be treated badly...to be hurt, you....you understand the monsters Tom...." "I don't like hurting people Marco....I don't wanna watch someone suffer....like I suffer...I was just....so ashamed of what I did....I just.....couldn't bring myself to tell you.", Tom sighed, "I just wish...I didn't have to be a prince....that this isn't the legacy I inherited.." "Tom, I've been keeping secrets from you too....", Marco admitted, making Tom look at him, "I....investigated your Dad, to find out what was happening, I talked to Star, Janna, and I got too involved in your business to try and help you... I didn't want to ask about it and worry you..." "Marco..", Tom felt a rush of affection overwhelm him, despite knowing some of this from Star. "I care about you Tom, and I just wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help....", the human sighed, "I'm not upset you didn't tell me, you wanted to protect me and yourself and that's ok....". Marco wrapped his own arm around his friend, "Your dad made you do something bad, he was making you into something you hate.....you've been bullied by him your whole life...and you wanted to keep me safe..." "But I did something terrible.." "We all do bad things Tom, but you didn't have much of a choice...it's ok.." "Well.....I'm not upset you wanted to help Marco....it's...really nice of you, to want to help me..", Tom said. "Well, I'm not upset at you for being scared and caring....and hey, it's ok....now that I know....we can be more cautious about your Dad...", Marco seemed a lot better now, rather more cheerful, although there was no denying he was nervous about being on a watch list for a mewman king, "I'm glad we both finally said this stuff.....it...honestly feels better to be honest with you...." "Yeah me too.." Tom looked at Marco's nervous smile and watched him play with his hair, he was adorable, in a dorky kind of way. Tom just had to say it, be honest with him, it was like ripping off a bandage. Marco would understand, he understood everything, he'd understand if Tom thought of Marco in that way. There was silence between them though, very awkward silence. Marco bumped Tom playfully, prompting Tom to bump him back, "I really did miss you y'know....you're so much fun to be around, you would've loved it....skateboarding failures can be so funny sometimes...". "I like spending time with you too Marco....", the mewman smiled, "You're just....so wonderful...and so understanding..." "You like complimenting me don't you?", Marco joked, "Well I happen to think you're wonderful too...Tom, you're sweet, and fun, a goofball, amazing at magic, you have adorable pink hair, and a nice smile, and your eyes are a pretty shade of red and you care so much about your friends and you always do your best and you love talking about the craziest things, and you're so good with animals!!" Tom felt himself blush, "You're quite the charmer Diaz..." "Shut up, it's true..." Tom bumped him again, fiddling with his hands, "Marco..I um....I..." "Yeah Tom?" I like you Three words, that's all it would take. "I want you to be happy, no matter what you want to do with your life....or who you like....you deserve the best....", Tom smiled to him, "You may be a nerd, and kinda weird, and a bit of a mom sometimes....but..I hope you find what you're looking for..." Marco hugged Tom immediately, "Thanks so much...I hope you do too...." "I'm still planning out your birthday party with my parents, I invited Jackie too, maybe I can ask her out then?!!!", he beamed, "Tom, I promise I'm gonna make up for every birthday you spent on mewni with this party..." "I know i'm gonna love it already Marco.." Tom said. "Why?" "Cause you're going to be there...and that's everything I could honestly ever wish for..." Marco turned red, Tom's comment clearly making his nervous, "Tom...I-I um...are you?" Marco was about to say something when he heard his dad calling them downstairs for dinner, and Marco stood up, taking Tom with him. "We better go eat...", Marco suggested, suddenly a little bit more tense, ushering Tom downstairs and to the kitchen. Tom felt anxious, Marco's new tone of voice made him nervous. What did he say wrong? Did he make things more awkward between them? Tom felt a bit sick during dinner, he didn't eat much. Marco didn't look at him either, and Tom wished he could just get up and leave. This had been what he was afraid of. When he and Marco went back upstairs, Marco still seemed to be acting weird. Still not looking at him and clearly still lost in thought. "Marco? Is-are you ok?", he hesitated to ask, but he had to know if this was his fault. "Hmm? No, i-i'm fine....it's um....just nervous about asking Jackie out...y'know?", He didn't seem to be telling the truth, but Tom didn't question it further. "Ok...", Tom didn't hide the disappointment in his voice very well, but Marco seemed to be too much in though to notice. "Marco, I-I didn't mean, to say anything wrong, I-I uh....", Tom started, "I-I just....I wasn't trying to say..." "Tom, don't worry, it's nothing, you said nothing wrong it's.....don't worry about it....", Marco replied. Tom silenced himself, trying to avoid all thoughts of Marco possibly hating him. "Tom....i'm gonna change, you uh...wanna do anything tonight...?", Marco asked awkwardly. "No...it's uh...been a long day for me....i'm just going to sleep I think..", Tom said, "Just...we can hang out tomorrow....." "Yeah, Tomorrow....", Marco replied, still in his odd tone, "Let's rest and hang out tomorrow....I'm pretty tired..." "Me too, yeah..." "G'night buddy....", Marco said, heading into his room and closing the door behind him. "Night....friend....", Tom said, closing his own door behind him. Tom leaned against the wall and tried not to cry, maybe by tomorrow Marco would forget what he said and things would go back to normal, at least that's what he was hoping for. The boy fell face first on his bed, and for once, hoped the boy in the other room was really thinking about Jackie instead of him. Tom sighed. All he could ever wish for? What the heck was that? That was about as embarrassing as it could get!! Now he made Marco feel awkward and uncomfortable!! Freaking great Tom, you tried to tell him, only to make him freak out. He wanted to break something again, desperately wishing he kept his mouth shut. Why did he ever think Marco would like him? - In the other room, Marco laid down on his bed, not even changed. Thinking about Tom. Today with Jackie had been nice, they had fun, she was super easy-going, and she still made him nervous beyond belief. He didn't like her any less. But Tom, he just.... Marco felt himself grow warm. Him? He's everything Tom would wish for? Tom's a prince, and yeah he didn't have many friends or support throughout his life, but surely there were better things then some human. Tom cared about him, made tough choices for him, but this was like....this was like when he used to go on and on...about Star. Now that he thought about it, this was a lot like Star. Tom would go on about how cool she was and what made her special to him, before the events of the ball changed him. and now that Marco was really thinking about it, he talked about him the same way. Tom talked about how great he was, how he was the best thing that ever happened to him, that he deserved the best, Tom made him feel good about himself. "Tom's my best friend...of course he likes me and cares about me...", he muttered into the mattress, "I mean, we're friends....we're not like....". Marco turned on his side to go to sleep, but found he wasn't tired anymore, but lost in thought about his friend. All the times he's argued with Janna about dating Tom, or the times he's thought of him as cute, or the moments where he made him feel like the greatest person on earth. Marco felt warm as images from the ball flooded his mind, how cute he thought Tom was, and how nice it was to dance with him. Yeah for multiple times he's thought of Tom as attractive but...he always thought of it as him enjoying it in an aesthetically pleasing way, not in a romantic way. Not that Tom wasn't adorable, or really cute...he was..he just.. "you have adorable pink hair, and a nice smile, and your eyes are a pretty shade of red" He still remembered when he first saw Tom in his suit for the ball, how his outfit perfectly matched his features. He was beautiful, he was fun, and Marco didn't know what he'd do without him if anything happened. "But we're just friends...", Marco said to himself, closing his eyes and shutting out these thoughts of his friend, "And liking him would't work out anyway.....I like jackie, and he wouldn't want to date some human...not at risk of seeing me get hurt..." Tom deserved the best too after all, and that wasn't Marco. Marco let these thoughts drag him into sleep, hoping tomorrow would be better. unknowingly that down the hall, the boy in his thoughts was thinking the same thing.