Chapter Text
Branzy sighed as he rummaged around the numerous piles around him, intent on looking for something.
Paint had made its way on his face and the apron he tied did nothing to protect his clothes from the vibrant colours.
Branzy himself was too engrossed to care. He had a paintbrush behind his ear and his brow furrowed with concentration as he tried to look in the abnormal amount of things surrounding him in his little circle.
Paints, small canvases, foil in silver and gold, glue, scalpels and numerous paintbrushes were arranged in a haphazard circle.
Graphite pencils, charcoal, watercolours and palettes sat as Branzy pushed them around.
On an easel in the centre of said circle was a canvas sat vertically.
It seemed to be a portrait.
A low ‘Whoop’ cut through the air as Branzy approached the canvas with a dopey grin.
His loose shirt hung from his frame as he squinted at the canvas, seemingly scrutinising it.
With his hair fluffed up, his curls prominent and with red paint on his cheek Branzy looked like a picture of an evil science genius.
…
A very…focused, fresh out of bed evil art genius.
But do know dear reader that Branzy has not slept the entire day. In fact, it is nearing midnight as we speak and he has yet to go to bed, already pulling an all-nighter the day before!
He yawned, squinting at his art piece.
Suddenly his phone rang abruptly.
Branzy picked it up, it was in his circle which was in the middle of his flat.
‘Hello?’ He asked while yawning.
‘BRANZY!’ Rekrap reprimanded.
Branzy winced at the noise, keeping some distance between his ear and the phone as Rek loudly voiced his opinions on Branzy’s horrible sleep schedule.
‘Branzy’
Branzy sighed, bringing the phone to his ear again, ‘Yes Rek?’
‘I want you in bed sleeping right now or I am going to come over and make sure you do!’
That jolted Branzy from his sleepy stupor.
‘Yes Rek..’ he mumbled.
‘What was that.’
‘Yes Rek I’m going to bed good night.’
‘Thank you, night Branzy’
‘Night’
And with that Branzy cut the call, his eyes half closed with the need to sleep but his expression was completely unhappy.
He took one longing look at his unfinished masterpiece and then turned away, sighing.
He stumbled around until he got out of the circle.
He yawned again, taking a shower and changing his clothes before collapsing on his bed.
He was out like a light.
Rustling was heard from the lounge area but Branzy was still fast asleep.
A thud.
A quiet rustle.
A faint noise of confusion.
All signs were ignored as a tall shadow moved its way to Branzy’s room.
The air fell silent and the atmosphere turned cold and grim as the figure came into the blue light from Branzy’s lamp.
A clown mask peered down at his surroundings, holding a ruby encrusted scythe tightly as they moved swiftly, their footsteps making no sound.
The clown raised his scythe to Branzy’s thigh, nudging it with the blade.
The artist remained fast asleep.
Oblivious to the world around him.
Oh so wonderfully naive!
An exasperated huff only you and I can hear dear readers escaped the towering man as he threw his head up in seemingly silent laughter.
He shook his head fondly at the sleeping man as he moved towards him.
He wrapped his arms around Branzy, burrowing his mask in his hair.
Clownpierce promised himself that he would only do this for a little while before he would sit and keep watch.
He continued to repeat his promise like a mantra as it became harder and harder to break free from the comfort hugging Branzy gave him.
Suddenly Branzy shifted, tucking his head in Clown's neck and taking in his first ‘I am feeling safe right now’ breath since he started his career.
Clown froze, stiffening at the contact. You could almost see his eyes go wide.
He slowly manoeuvred Branzy until he rested on his side before abruptly standing.
Perhaps under his mask his face was burning, red like blood as Branzy lay unaware of what he had just unknowingly done to one of the scariest people on the planet.
However, as Clown left the room to pace in the lounge something seemed off.
Upon closer inspection it was found that the painting Branzy was painting had simply disappeared. There was nothing on the canvas.
It was an unnerving sight.
Something about Clown seemed odd too.
Like how some of his clothing looked, different, unfinished. One of his fingers seemed to look like a smudge and one seemed more like a paint stroke.
Yet he held his grip, face towards the door as he stood like a silent guard, a quiet protector of someone he holds dear.
Even unfinished, Clownpierce looked like a masterpiece, perfection dressed in mortal robes.
But he was truly a little too perfect as he sat, posture immaculate, staring unnervingly at the door with a sort of alien focus that distanced him from humanity.
Therefore, it was quite the surprise when Branzy stumbled out of his room and startled the assassin.
His purple eyes blinked blearily at the figure in front of him as he rubbed his eyes with the sleeves of his loose shirt.
Heh.
Cute.
(Clown’s words not mine)
‘Clown?’ Branzy questioned.
‘Yes dear,’ Clown hummed.
Branzy turned scarlet at the nickname, before striding across the room.
He burrowed his head in Clown’s chest and sighed.
‘I hadn’t seen you for a while’ Branzy mumbled.
Clown simply hummed again.
Suddenly, Branzy perked up.
‘Right, I was painting you today’ He looked up at Clown, eyes turning crescent shaped due to his wide smile as Clown’s heart melted.
‘It’s sooooo annoying that no one can see you. Chief and Rek won’t believe me at all. They think I’m crazy!’ Branzy whined.
Clown brought his forehead to Branzy’s and dutifully listened as his treasure went off on a rant again, unaware that tomorrow, when Branzy finishes his painting, Clown would be granted life with his love.
That Clown would be granted mortal form.
That they could be together forever.
In the human realm and others
They were never meant to be apart.
They are like the sky and the stars, the sun and the moon.
They are love itself, for only such a strong passion could bring a being as bloodthirsty as Clown into mortal form.
It was already unheard of for the terrifying entity to feel emotions and now Clown is so hopelessly enamoured by Branzy that he promises in his heart to take him to his kingdom when he perishes as his spouse.
Ferre had warned him but who was he to listen?
Branzy was his other half.
His one and only.
And Clown would do anything for him.