Lifesteal SMP oneshots

💔 When You Love Someone, but it Goes to Waste, Could It be Worse?

(Title from Fix You by Coldplay)

Felt like writing angst, sorry for short word count :P

"Branzy?"

He'd twirled around at the call of his name, jumping as no other than Clown himself appeared with a tilted head. He stuttered briefly, taking a step back for comfort. "Yes..?" He muttered, locking eyes with the pvper in front of him.

Clown hummed, seeming to look Branzy up and down, before gently grabbing his wrist and pulling him along into a dark alley way.

They've done this dance before, numerous times, as Clown will pull Branzy along away from whatever party or conversation he was in the middle of just to talk to him in private.

Branzy sighed as Clown pulled him along, wondering what mishap or trap or just plain conversation this was going to be. This happens too much, too much for him to swallow and comprehend as Clown took him somewhere away from civilization - from humanity.

It scares him, every time, because he knows that one day, the familiar hand that held his would be cold - colder than it is right now, colder than ice. With it the so beloved face of his husband - of his love - would be frozen in one place, forever stuck until the end of time.

That is, if he didn't go first.

Whatever disease that was inside of him - the name of he didn't know - was slowing killing him. He knew, he knew because he's coughed up blood too many times to count and his skin goes paler by the day. It scared him.

It scared Clown, too.

That was one thing that they kept between them, the only other person knowing being his brother, Rek. Only the other two knew how bad his seizures get - how many times he's given himself a concussion by dropping to the floor and hitting his head.

They don't know when it'll end.

He wishes it's soon.

So when Clown pulled him away from Vitalasy - who was already starting to notice the effects; the trauma, the random absences, the fatigue - Branzy didn't question anything, instead letting himself being dragged into a random corner as Clown cupped his face gently.

It was moments like these where the two got 'intimate' - whatever that meant to them. Clown would take off his mask, his heterochromatic eyes darting between his lips and his cheeks and his hair, all quick and subtle. He would ask if Branzy was okay, if he needed anything - water, food, sleep, just cuddles, anything to help him.

It was tiring. He wishes it would stop.

But whatever fate the universe had for him was one of pain and suffering; to give him all of the wrath of whatever Gods were above - Notch and Jeb. Were they even Gods? He can't remember.

Whoever they are, they hate him specifically. He doesn't know why. He won't find out. Not while Clown and Rek are there.

He's done this dance too many times before - too many times to count. If he counted all of the stars in the night sky, he was sure they wouldn't be enough to show how many times he's done this.

So he shoves his emotions down. He lets it happen, the shaking, the fatigue, the blood. He's gotten all too used to it. All too used to whatever made his hair grow white and his eyes fade into purple.

They weren't his natural colors. Not his pale skin, not his cold hands or his danger-inducing eyes. No, he was a natural brunnet - brown eyes, tan skin, sharp jaw.

That wasn't who he was anymore. Not like he remembered, anyways.

Rek knew him better than himself - he had been there, seeing his brother suffer as he lost his memories, he lost himself.

Branzy doesn't know why Rek thinks he still likes dark chocolate over milk chocolate.

The day comes too early - too soon. Branzy doesn't expect it.

He doesn't want to die.

But as he sits in that hospital bed, his hand being held by his brother and his cheek being cupped by his lover, he accepts it.

He welcomes death with wide arms, and he whispers to him.

"Take me, you coward."

(Words: 699)