Multifandom Oneshots

Lara's 1st Oneshot

Title: Once upon a ghastly month.
Ship: Frerard [current era]
Fandom/Franchise:My Chemical Romance
Blurb: Gerard has many dreams. Many quixotic, many scary. But there are some that seem all too real ... but all I know is you don't have to be asleep to dream.

Words: 1500 +

Author: Penguin

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\\Based on the song "Once Upon A December" from the animated movie Anastasia - all rights and lyrics of the song and somewhat the plot of this oneshot is owned by the respective owners ; no copyright infringement or illegal activity is intended //

\\prepare for fuck ton of shitty references and subtle crappy puns //

\\Words, phrases or sentences from the song will be marked with  an asterisk (*) //

The nights air was cool, the draught of the wind delicately brushed against the resting fabric of the wine tinted curtain. A shuffle of awkward steps were the only sound that rung through a desolate room - the roof was high and the walls were an archaic mahogany. The vast walls were adorned in rich paintings of dreams and royalty. The shuffling stopped, and the man shivered and gingerly brought the tips of his fingers to his lips to gently blow warm air on them. Though he was of an average height, his mildly slender yet soft frame was swaddled in an over-large T-Shirt and stained suit pants. He appeared frail or ill, perhaps saddened or somewhat lost . The goosebumps erupted great craters of shadows on the pale flesh of his arm ; he was so cold it hurt. He turned to the door and quickly boarded it up with a few abandoned chairs and a spoiled canvas. His arched eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he looked up at the now silent room in wonder. So much velvet and gold and glass. He wondered around for something to do in his boredom. Brushing his hand along the smooth walls, he moved to a series of old wooden tables in the corner. In a sharp turn he knocked his long leg against the wall.

"Goddamit Gerard !" He exclaimed to himself in third person, brushing his knee in hopes to soothe it. As he leant against the table he noticed something, with age, dust had collected on a series of now concealed objects. Gently, the hesitant man blew on the lump and the dust filled his lungs. "Fuck." He was choking and spluttering all over the adjacent glass window as he pulled his arms closer to his over large T-Shirt, waves of nausea crept up on him and he cringed in anticipation.But waves of déjà vu began to hit him suddenly.

Hesitation was an understatement. So was alienation.

Looking at the now clean (well at least some of the dust was gone) objects, the man ran the tip of his slender index finger against the bass of a small hand held mirror and brought it too his face. The stark red of his hair made his face seem pale in comparison , in his eyes he seemed sallid or ugly but in reality the pink of his lips was delicately brought out, the hazel of his eyes shone mischevious in the dark.

*"This place ...."

He spun around and glanced among the painted roof of the high ceiling, marvelling at the surrounded portraits of old forgotten memories. It was a memory of a dream. Or perhaps a dream of a memory.

The mans throat suddenly itched on urgency as his memory was suddenly filled with a memory, he hadn't realised that he began to him the familiar tune. [I recommend watching the song on youtube btw just so you understand the tune + it is beautiful.]

*Dancing bears, painted wings ....

The man swung his hips gently as he lurched forward, slowly trailing down some creaky stairs onto the main part of the room.

*Painted wings ...

Distant memories of paint - comics. Art. Lyrics. Colour . Red, blue ,hairdye, soda, makeup. His lips twitched as his mind laboured in sudden attempt at memory.