A/N: Hey guys! Merry Christmas, happy Hanukkah, happy New Year's, happy Kwanzaa, and all those other amazing holidays that I might be forgetting because I'm running purely off sugar and caffeine as I write this! XD
Out-of-timeline holiday gift for y'all, just to repay for that horrible mess I made with CU and my *coughs* obvious lack of attention given to this site...
Well.
I...uh...had a lot of fun making this. And then, on the other hand, I really didn't. Lemme tell ya, the 12 days of Christmas is literally the most stressful song to play on the piano. Like, ever. Because the second you play the opening riff then you've got crazy little sibs singing along with the Twelve Pains of Christmas and you can't stop laughing, and then you lose count and yell one of your creative replacement swears like "Oh for the bangling love of sweet nooksniffing turdwipes" and you have to start over.
ANYWAY. I kinda got this idea from Kylee Henke's Homestuck thing "Twelve Trolls of Christmas" so if you're a Homestuck, I advise you to really check it out if you haven't heard it already. If you're not a Homestuck, and you're ok with a bit of swearing, I still advise you to check it out.
Ramblings over, here's your intermission.
Pitch Black woke up on Christmas morning because he heard silence.
Yes, you read that right.
Over nearly ten years of waking up to kids screaming about breakfast cereal, television shows, and who knew how to make pancakes correctly without setting the entire kitchen on fire, Pitch had developed the innate ability to sleep through pretty much anything that the kids could dish out. As they'd gotten older and subsequently more violent, this included duels to the death, wifi outages and subsequent uprisings, and the occasional magical explosion. Which he wasn't all too worried about, because these kids could take care of themselves. This was a habit he didn't particularly like because Pitch liked to be on his feet and aware of everything around him, but he reassured himself that if something really, really, REALLY bad happened, his nightmares would warn him.
But today, the day he'd expected to wake up to "MERRY CHRISTMAS, TURDHOLES, HAVE SOME WATER BALLOONS TO THE FACE" and seeing the entire lair TP-ed, he awoke to perfect, dead silence.
It was in fact the lack of noise that had pulled him from slumber — and it was the aforementioned lack that most alarmed him. His first thought was that Solitude had lost it again; sometimes when the kid was feeling particularly over-socialized he would use that sleeping spell and put everyone in the lair under, but that didn't make sense because Pitch was awake, and he was the one who got hit by that spell the hardest. Sleeping spells worked awfully well on spirits.
And so, preparing himself for the worst, the Boogeyman got out of bed, slipped on his Dastardly Shadow Slippers (never bunny slippers, darkness forbid; didn't want Frost spreading any more rumors about the Nightmare King's weird fetishes), and strode out of his bedroom to find what in the name of darkness happened to his kids this Christmas morning.
It took less time than he thought, and it turned out to be Shame.
Pitch had checked the kitchen first, then their bedrooms. No sign of any Nightmare Child anywhere, but he hadn't exactly expected that. The only real thing weird, he thought, was that Death's piano was gone. A few years ago, Loss and Danger had looted a secondhand store and brought back a truckload of stuff, among which was a small upright box piano. Pitch had made them bring most of the stuff back but somehow, the piano had stayed and migrated into Death's room. No one ever really saw him play it but sometimes they'd hear the music — creepy part was, whenever they looked into his room, the music would stop and Death would be nowhere to be seen. Seriously, there was something wrong with that kid, Pitch couldn't help but muse to himself — and something even wronger with the fact that someone had taken the piano along with his kids.
Finally, he checked the throne room. He really doubted that he'd find anything, but the second he stepped in, he heard the shuffling of people moving, and whispers. Kids' whispers. Oh, gods.
"Children?" he called sternly. "Get out here. I don't know what you're pulling, but you'll stop it right now or NONE of you are getting dessert for the rest of the month."
The shuffling sounds stopped. Pitch folded his arms and began tapping his foot.
That was when he heard the piano, playing the two-measure intro to Pitch's least favorite song.
A beam of light shot out of nowhere, briefly blinding Pitch's eyes. Through the dancing green afterlights in his vision, he could see the figure of a girl in the spotlight, in the center of what seemed to be a makeshift stage, sitting on the top of the box piano with her legs crossed. She wore long black leather boots and a fluffy, sparkly black dress that had white fur along the wrists, hem, and collar like North's stupid coat. Her long, smooth silver hair was carefully curled and shone brightly in the spotlight, and dazzling makeup graced her face. She held an over-sparkly microphone in her carefully manicured hands.
"On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me," Shame began to sing in a high voice that actually sounded really, really good, "a Nightmare tangled in a tree!"
She smiled dazzlingly at her dad. The piano accompaniment kept going as another spotlight flashed onto the player — Death, who was dressed in a sharp black suit and tie with his hair still a bedheaded mess and whose legs were literally tied to the piano bench. He gave a look of pure hatred towards Shame as he, too, began to sing as he played the accompaniment.
"On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me," he sighed — and about now was when Pitch began to wonder exactly how many of his kids were musically gifted, because not only was Death's piano playing really good, but that baritone, wow, "two pianos..."
Shame finished it off with another dazzling smile: "And a Nightmare tangled in a tree!"
Pitch realized that this might take a while.
Another spotlight flashed on, illuminating Loss, who stood at the corner of the makeshift stage in her typical black leather jumpsuit, but now with a black Santa Clause hat on her head. "On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me," (and Pitch decided that no, not all of his kids were good singers) "three ninja stars!"
"Two pianos," Death put in, still not that enthusiastic.
"And a Nightmare tangled in a tree!" Another dazzling smile from Shame. Pitch was beginning to wonder if there was a camera somewhere.
Yet another spotlight, on the other side of the stage. Dark yelped, then composed himself and began singing opera-style, even though he, too, wasn't that gifted in the vocal department.
"On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me...four dead lightbulbs — "
"What?" Death said, confused, but never faltering in his playing. He didn't get an answer.
"Three ninja stars," Loss sang.
"Two...pianos..."
"And a Nightmare tangled in a tree — go Danger!"
Another spotlight flashed on, except this one wasn't directed at the ground. It focused on a cliff near the ceiling, where Danger came strutting out and stood at the edge like she was about to lift up a baby lion and start singing that one Disney song that no one really knows the words to and basically makes them up the entire way.
"On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me..." The girl took a deep breath and belted with the most stunning soprano's vibrato that Pitch had probably ever heard:
"FIIIIIVE BUNGEE COOOOOOOOOORDS!"
Dark looked a bit bummed out that he couldn't sing like that but he kept it going. "Four dead lightbulbs..."
"Three ninja stars..."
"Two pianos..."
"And a Nightmare tangled in a tree!"
When the next spotlight came on, it also went up to the ceiling. Wrath was sitting inside of one of Pitch's old cages, which had last been used to hold tooth fairies. He was leaning against the side and sharpening a knife.
"On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me," and using the verb "sang" would be hyperbole for the flat, furious melody that was barely forced out between the boy's gritted teeth, "six shrunken heads..."
(Only then did Death's hands trip and the piano made a noise like some dying animal before he regained his place.)
" — FIIIIIVE THROWING KNIIIIIIIIIIVES!"
"Four dead lightbulbs..."
"Three ninja stars..."
"I'm getting scared..."
"And a Nightmare tangled in a tree!"
A seventh spotlight followed Pain as she strutted out from the shadows onto the stage and sat down on its edge, making sure to flip her hair for whatever cameras Pitch was sure were hiding somewhere. "On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me," she sang in a resonant, surprisingly deep voice — still, nothing could prepare anyone for her next surprise, the choice in object: "Seven cans of soda..."
" — OH NO YOU DON'T," Wrath growled, obviously aware of the consequences if anyone gave his sister seven cans of pure sugar and caffeine, but no one was listening to him.
"FIIIIIVE PAINTBALL GUUUUUUUUUUNS!"
"Four dead lightbulbs..."
"Three ninja stars..."
"Two pianos..."
"And a Nightmare tangled in a tree! Now, Sol!"
On the opposite side of the room, a decrepit-looking figure in pajamas, curled up at the bottom of another tooth fairy cage, raised his head. He looked like he had completely lost the will to live, and when he spoke, he sounded like it too.
"On the eighth day of Twelfth-Perigee my matesprit gave to me...eight spiders spinning..."
"Huh?" Loss frowned, but Solitude's new variation on the song was never explained and this question would linger for years to come.
"Seven cans of soda," continued Pain, never missing a beat, though as predicted, Wrath cut in again this time with "NO PAIN, YOU MAY NOT"
" — FIIIIIIIIIIVE CHOCOLATE EEEEEEEEEEGGS!"
"Four dead lightbulbs..."
"Three ninja stars..."
"Two pianos..."
"And a Nightmare tangled in a tree!"
The spotlight came on over Suffering, still in her footie pajamas, standing forlornly in the middle of the stage. Clearing her throat, she half-whispered into her microphone, her voice actually quite sweet:
"On the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me...nine good dreams..."
Pitch bristled. This girl could be such a rebel.
"Um, I finished, can I go?" Solitude murmured timidly, but no one answered him.
"Seven cans of soda..."
"NO ONE'S HAVING SODA"
" — FIIIIIIIIIIVE SKATEBOARD WHEEEEEEEEEEELS!"
"Four dead lightbulbs..."
"Three ninja stars..."
"Skateboards...only need four wheels..."
"And a Nightmare tangled in a tree!"
Judgment strutted out onto the stage, fully decked out in a pressed brown suit, his glasses (he only wore them instead of his contacts when he wanted to look fashionable, though by what standards he judged "fashionable" was beyond Pitch), and even a pocketwatch hanging out of his pocket.
"On the tenth day of Christmas my true love gave to me," he bellowed with both admirable and embarrassing levels of pomp, "ten jury members..."
"Nine good dreams," with a nasty wink at her father, who was already brewing up the punishments Suffering would get for dabbling in the light arts as her rebellious side was so prone to doing.
Solitude sounded like he was about to cry. "...please just let me leave..."
"Seven cans of soda..."
"DID YOU HEAR ME I SAID NO"
"WRATH WILL YOU SHUT UUUUUUUUUUP?!"
"FOUR DEAD LIGHTBULBS"
"WHY'RE WE YELLING"
"WE'RE ALL GOING MAD"
"And a Nightmare tangled in a tree! Tempest, your turn!"
The piano accompaniment shifted up one key as the girl sailed down from a ledge and landed at the front of the stage, dressed in a fancy dark blue dress, grinning maniacally, and throwing her arms back like a thunderstorm-themed Elsa.
"On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to MEEEEEEE..."
No. Scratch that. At least Elsa knew how to sing.
" — eleven shiny arrows!"
"Ten j — or...how many are there normally?"
"Nine...good dreams..."
"...GUYS I HATE YOU ALL"
"Seven cans of soda — "
"PAIN I HAVE A KNIFE"
"I THINK YOU ALL SUUUUUUUUUUCK! XOOOOO"
"Four dead lightbulbs"
"Danger, oh my gods"
"Two...pianos..."
"And a Nightmare tangled in a tree! C'mon, one more guys!"
Again the piano accompaniment shifted up a key, and Death's playing become more and more forceful. He added a trill, just for fun and for drama, as the last Nightmare Child stepped timidly out of the shadows, still clad in his overlarge white pajamas, holding a microphone close to his mouth as if wishing he could disappear behind it.
"On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me," (and this was the day everyone learned that Unknown's singing voice was literally the most beautiful mezzo-soprano ever found in a boy and bore an unnerving resemblance to Utatane Piko's) "twelve bars of chocolate..."
Tempest whirled around. "Hey, that's not fair! I want chocolate!"
Meanwhile, Judgment had still been muttering to himself. "But in Supreme Court there are twenty-four jury members..."
Suffering went over and punched her crazy justice-obsessed brother. "Shame, you're a moron," she yelled to the instigator.
Solitude had begun to cry.
Pain stood up and strode over to Wrath's cage, placing her hands on her hips. "I'll fight you for it, nerd."
Wrath stood up, his spiked-up hair barely brushing the prison ceiling. "Oh yeah? Bring it on, sis."
Pitch wasn't really sure what happened next but what he could make out was Pain throwing herself at the cage, crashing metal, Pain somehow yanking Wrath out of the prison by his heel, more Solitude crying, an explosion, and Danger screaming at the top of her lungs:
"SCREW YOU ALL I QUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!"
"Four...uh, what'd I have to say?" Dark somehow forgot the eight times he'd said "dead lightbulbs".
Loss facepalmed. "Look, I'm freaking done."
Death slammed down the last couple chords, then pounded both hands down into another "dying-animal" scream. "Shame, you'll so regret this..."
But he turned back to the keys for the finale, and not a single singer left him or herself out of the last line.
"AND A NIGHTMARE TANGLED IN A TREEEEEEEEEEEE."
(bonus)
And in the ensuing silence, Unknown asked, "...am I allowed to disown you all?"
"I'M FREEEEEEEE," Solitude's voice echoed off the walls as he barreled down the corridors towards the isolation of his bedroom.
Everyone present could hear the slam of the door.