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[artsfinalgirl]

Art and Lulu

[darkshadow90]

Awww, look at Art holding the puppy 🥺 Honestly Art is way less scary when it’s DHT making appearances as Art. It’s almost like watching an alternate universe version of Art where instead of being a sadistic and cruel killer clown he’s a friendly clown that looks scary.

[melis-writes]

TERRIFIER 3 (2024) | dir. Damien Leone

[darkshadow90]

Holy shit. Everything happens so fast in this scene I never noticed the boy’s arm on the floor. This scene made me sad. The family was sleeping peacefully and then were brutally killed. I can’t even imagine how terrified the poor boy was. The last thing he saw was a terrifying (no pun intended) clown standing next to his bed and he couldn’t even cry for help. Poor kid. Also hats of the the actress playing the mom she was amazing. Another instance where I hated Art.

[darkshadow90]

Norman Osborn & Daughter Reader: Norman becomes dependent on the Goblin Serum

Summary: After you and Harry accidentally discover your father’s secret lair, both of you are faced with the horrifying reality that he is the Green Goblin. Norman becomes dependent on the Goblin serum and begs both of you to give him the vial. He’s also trying to keep it together as he battles his darker half. Both of you try to keep the serum away from him to keep the Goblin from taking over.

AN: Hey guys. It’s been a long time since I wrote a Norman Osborn fic. This is an idea I’ve had for a long time but never got around to writing. This takes place in the Raimi universe. Think of this as an AU where Harrry has a sister. Both he and reader know Norman is the Green Goblin. I got this in dea from Spider-Man 2 when Harry discovers Norman’s secret lair. There are multiple vials of Goblin serum. So I thought it would be interesting to have Norman be dependent on it to continue having his inhanced abilities. He’s also battling internally with the Goblin while reader and Harry try to keep the vial away from him and stop the Goblin from taking full control. Warnings: Norman reliant on serum (pretty much drugs), mild violence against Harry, the Goblin comes out at certain moments, Norman/Goblin chasing after reader, ect I hope you like this 🙂I boldened the font to indicate when the Goblin is talking to reader. @vo1d-bunny

Both you and Harry still couldn’t believe it. You never thought you would find a secret lair in the mansion. Now it all made sense. Your father becoming more distant than usual. He was becoming more secretive, avoiding answering questions about where he was. There were even moments you and Harry thought you heard him talking to himself and laughing in the middle of the night. You remembered reading the headlines in the newspapers about the Green Goblin’s crimes. You remembered him attacking the parade. It horrified you. He could’ve killed Harry. You both saw the glider, the Green Goblin mask and suit. There were vials of some kind of green liquid. You weren’t sure what they were, but after disposing of all the vials, you decided to keep one for research.

“We’ve got to do something, Harry. Dad has done terrible things. We can’t let it keep happening. I know something is wrong with him. I’m willing to bet this liquid is responsible.” “No, Y/N. We can’t. Dad might hurt us. Or he’ll get arrested and go to prison.” “Harry, you could’ve been killed, MJ too. I’m scared too, but we can’t just sit back and keep allowing terrible things to happen to people. Peter is good at science. Maybe he can figure out what this stuff is and make an anti serum. Let’s take this to him.” Harry sighed. “Okay, Y/N. If this will make things right, then let’s do it.” As you and Harry were packing up, your father came home. He wasn’t looking well. He looked haggard, disheveled. Norman saw the vial and snatched it from Harry. “Where did you get this?” He sounded angry. Harry immediately began to get nervous. “We…we found it.” “I see. You were snooping around, weren’t you.” You knew something was wrong. He didn’t sound like his usual self. His tone of voice was different. Norman put his hand up to his forehead. He looked like he was in pain. “Y/N, Harry, let me explain.” You both looked at him with apprehension, unsure of what he might do. Your father looked angry, but unlike the time when you were little and you accidentally broke the wedding picture, there was no look of pain in his eyes. This was different. His eyes were darker. You swallowed thickly. “I didn’t mean for any of it to happen. I lost control. About a month ago, the military threatened to stop funding my projects. I decided to test the performance enhancers on myself. What I didn’t count on was the other personality. The Goblin.”

You weren’t entirely sure you could trust your father. “Dad, this is serious. You killed the board members. You could have killed Harry and MJ.” Norman looked lost. “Sweetheart, it wasn’t me. It was the Goblin. I had nothing to do with any of it. I love you. I would never hurt you or Harry. The Goblin was trying to make things right. They were going to take everything from us. I tried to stop him, but he was too strong. He took things too far. When the Goblin takes over, I have no memory or control over what he says or does. But with his help, I was able to gain back control of Oscorp and I can give you and Harry everything you deserve.” You shook your head in disbelief. “You understand, don’t you, sweetheart? Everything we do, we do for you and Harry.” You shook your head again. “But you hurt Harry. You’re not well, but it’s okay. We’ll take this to Peter so he can figure out a cure.” “Yeah dad, we just want you to be you again.” Norman’s demeanor immediately shifted. “No, I will not allow you to take this to Parker. He’ll ruin everything.” That strange tone in his voice spoke again. It was his voice. At the same time it wasn’t. He said Peter’s last name with distain. “Dad please, we just want you to be back to normal.” The Goblin spoke to Norman in his mind. Ungrateful brats. You sacrificed so much for them, and this is how they repay you? No. We can’t let anyone get in our way, not even your children. Now is not the time for cowardice, Osborn. I’ll take it from here. “No. I won’t let you hurt them.” Norman looked like he was in pain again. “Dad? Are you okay? Just hang in there. We’ll get this vial to Pete and…” Harry was immediately caught off guard by Norman’s expression. His eyes went wild. Neither of you had ever seen such a look from him before. “I told you that you would do no such thing.” Harry tackled Norman to the ground, causing him to drop the vial. It rolled to your feet and you picked it up. Norman looked at you, his eyes pleading. “Y/N, please.” Harry was trying to hold Norman back. “Dad, snap out of it.” Harry said. The Goblin spoke to Norman again, mocking him. Yes, Norman, snap out of it. You looked at Norman and shook your head. “I can’t let you have this.” You ran away from Norman. The Goblin spoke to him again. If she won’t give it to us, then we must take it. Norman shoved Harry off of him and began to chase after you.

“Dad, stop!” You heard Harry yell to him as you were running away. What you heard next were Norman and the Goblin fighting for control. He was laughing. “ Y / N ! Let ’s talk .” He was laughing again., as if he was enjoying this. “Give it to me. Please? I need it. Y/N…” He sounded so menacing. You fought the tears in your eyes and kept running. “You can trust me. We can figure all this out together.” You kept running. “Y/N ,” he said your name in a sing-song tone, as if he was enjoying the chase. As if he was enjoying hinting that you were in trouble. You knew it was the Goblin personality speaking to you. You reached a dead end and turned around, hoping you could quickly make it to the door. But as you turned around you saw him walking toward you. His eyes were vacant, as if someone else was controlling him. “The vial, Y/N.” It was a warning. You were cornered it was too late. You had no choice but to give the vial to him. “Whatever happens, we're here for you.” He took it from you and Harry consoled you as you cried. He told you not to worry. The two of you would come up with a plan to get your father back.

[darkshadow90]

I’m not sure what to write for Art the Clown

Hey guys. So…I’m running out one shot ideas for Art the Clown one shots. Upon rewatching Terrifier 2 I had a few ideas. One of them would be reader is friends with Allie and when Art comes to Allie’s house reader tells her not to be rude to Art. Another idea I had was reader and Sienna are at the costume shop. Reader sees Art and tells Sienna about it. I’m not sure if I should write these ideas. I feel a little discouraged. I’m not sure if I should keep writing. Maybe I’ll do it when I’m not so tired because right now I’m so tired I could cry.

[darkshadow90]

I think Allie’s death in Terrifier 2 is sad after noticing things

Hey guys. I know I haven’t written any one shots in awhile and I’m sorry. My job has been crazy and I’m exhausted all the time. I basically put in 10 to 12 hours days. I promise I’ll write more when I have time.

Anyway I rewatched Terrifier 2 and I never paid attention to Allie’s bedroom because of all the brutal things that happen in that scene. But when I noticed her bedroom it actually made her death not just brutal but a little sad too.

I think it’s unfortunate that Allie is dismissed as the girl who was rude to Art and people say if she wasn’t rude to him and gave him candy she’d be okay. No she wouldn’t. Art was going to kill her regardless. Was she a little rude to him? Sure, but to be fair, she probably thought that it was distasteful that a guy who she thought was dressed as Art the Clown, a guy who brutally killed people a year ago showed up at her door. Especially since Sienna mentioned him and Allie saw him at the costume shop. She was probably also really creeped out. I would be creeped out too if I was her. She wasn’t really that rude to him. She complemented his costume and apologized that she couldn’t give him any candy. It wasn’t until Art came back and banged on her door that she snapped at him. She thought he was some guy harassing her until she saw the bloody weapons. Everyone can be rude sometimes. It doesn’t mean Allie deserved what happened to her.

I noticed also has a lot of white decorations in her room and a sign that says blessed. I think it could symbolize innocence because remember Allie is supposed to be a teenager probably 16 or 17. She also has pictures of her friends and a picture of her mom and serveral school awards. I think she was actually well liked by a lot of people. There’s also her Halloween costume hanging up that she never got to wear. As Art is brutally killing her everything is spattered in blood. Art is killing innocence a teenager. And then before it’s all over her mom finds her mutilated and then Art kills her mom. I also think it’s really sad that Allie is never mentioned after Sienna wonders why she hasn’t made it to the party. I wish we got to see more of her. Just my thoughts.

[darkshadow90]

Is it weird that Art the Clown makes me think of the Joker at times?

So…kind of a weird post, but when I go back and watch the Terrifier movies there are moments where Art gives me major Joker vibes. I can’t explain how or why. Maybe it’s because they’re both evil clowns who delight in wreaking havoc wherever they go and tormenting people for their own amusement? I just can’t explain it. Anyway now that I’ve noticed it every time Art laughs, I can somehow hear Mark Hamill’s Joker laugh coming out of him if he had a voice. Just wanted to know if I’m the only one who’s had this thought 🤷‍♀️

[darkshadow90]

Art the Clown x Reader: Sick Day in Hell

Summary: You’re home sick with the flu and a fever. To add to your bad luck, Art breaks into your apartment and makes things worse for you.

A/N: Hey guys. This is another idea I had for another Art the Clown one shot. Reader is sick with the flu and a high fever. Art breaks into her apartment and makes everything worse. Warnings: Mentions of fever, illness, sneezing, Art torments reader, non consensual touching, vomiting, non sexual nudity, forced cold shower, drugging, ect. Reader is female I hope you like it 🙂

It was a cold day in January, several inches of snow were on the ground and the windchill was below zero. You were home sick with the flu and a high fever. You began to feel bad the day before. You stopped by the store on the way home to get some fruit punch. You also get some ingredients for your favorite crock pot soup. While other people's comfort soup was chicken soup, your soup of choice was a creamy soup with a savory broth, Italian sausage, potatoes, kale and bacon bits. It was the perfect time to make it. As you made your way to the register to pay for your groceries, you saw a clown at the front. He had a very large garbage bag next to him. While it was odd to see a clown this time of year, you figured maybe he was a performer going to a birthday party. “Sorry pal, no money, no chocolate milk.” The clown huffed and pointed to the milk as if to say, “Give it to me. Now.” The man continued to refuse and argue with the clown. "The milk is four dollars. You're short two dollars." You didn't have time for this you were feeling bad and you just wanted to get home. You grabbed two dollars from your wallet. “It's okay, I've got it.” You gave the two dollars to the clown. He gave you a look of surprise and then pointed to himself as if to say, “For me?” You nodded. “Uh-huh. I don't mind doing favor once in a while. Don't worry about it." The clown smiled and clapped his hands with jubilation, tipping his tiny black hat to you. You really made his day. He clasped his hands together, gesturing thanks to you. You saw his rotten teeth then, jagged and on full display. It made you unsettled. "You're welcome. I need to get home. I'm not feeling well. Enjoy your milk, okay?" The clown waved at you as you left.

Art smiled to himself. He had found his next victim. He could tell you were getting sick with something. Maybe a cold or the flu. It made you a perfect target. You would be too weak to fight back. You were so sweet. He decided to do something nice for you. He thought it would be rude not to follow you home and make sure you got home safe. He needed to become aware of his surroundings before seeing you again. He smiled as he saw you leaving. He followed you as you were leaving careful to keep his distance. He took the keys to the van he stole out of his garbage bag. As soon as he saw you get in your car, he turned the keys into the ignition. ‘See you real soon,’ he thought to himself. Art kept his distance, though given how exhausted you looked you probably weren’t paying attention. That would serve as a benefit to him. He couldn’t break in right away. It was still early and too many people were coming and going. He was in no hurry he could wait.

Now that you were finally home, you immediately got all the ingredients together for the soup. You browned the Italian sausage in the skillet, then cooked the bacon bits and set them aside. You placed the onion, garlic, diced potatoes, butter, and chicken broth in the crock pot, then added the sausage to cook for a few hours. You gradually began to feel worse. Your throat began to feel like it was on fire. Your head was hurting and you felt like you were freezing. You set a timer on your phone so you could take a nap. You didn’t get much sleep because the congestion, chills, and headache were getting worse. When the timer went off you added the heavy cream and kale. You had no doubt everything smelled amazing. Unfortunately you were too congested to smell anything. You topped the bowl of soup with the bacon bits and some Parmesan cheese. The warm broth soothed your throat, but you still felt awful. You finished eating and put the soup in the fridge. You grabbed the thermometer from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. No wonder you felt so bad. You had a fever of 103. You put on your oversized nightshirt and a pair of sweatpants. You grabbed your phone and noise canceling headphones hoping some music would help you fall asleep. A song from the 1960’s was playing. You made out some of the lyrics. “Some day we shall return to this place upon the meadow. We’ll walk out in the rain, hear the birds above singing once again. You hold me in your arms, and say once again you love me. And if your love is true, everything will be just as wonderful…” You found the singer’s voice and melody was very pleasant and you fell asleep.

Art had broken into your apartment not long after you went to bed. He noticed all the lights were still on and the dishes were in the sink. He made his way through and was thrilled when he saw you asleep in your bed. He noticed how sweaty you looked, your bangs were hanging in your face damp from the sweat. You were wearing headphones. No wonder you didn't hear him. He chuckled to himself. This was just too perfect. He was right, you were sick with something. He walked over to you and placed a hand on your forehead. You were very hot to the touch, no doubt you had a high fever. You began to stir a little from the contact. “Help me, please help me.” Art's eyes widened at this. Were you having a nightmare? 'Don't worry. I'll make you wish you were dreaming soon.' He went into your bathroom to look for medicine. He found a washcloth on the sink and a bottle of NyQuil Cold and Flu. Perfect. Art wet the washcloth with cold water. He walked back over to you and with a mocking gesture of tenderness, gently wiped your face with the washcloth.

You woke up feeling a sudden rush of cold. “Ah! So cold!” As you looked over to the side of your bed, you saw someone. A very creepy looking clown. “Who are you?” The clown smiled, his grin wide. His rotten teeth making you feel uneasy. He waved at you, wiggling each of his fingers. When you saw the black garbage bag next to him, that was when you recognized him. "Wait. You're the guy from the store. I bought your chocolate milk for you." The clown nodded enthusiastically. "What are you doing here? How did you get into my apartment?" The clown gestured as if to say, "Oh, you know. I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by." You were now feeling uncomfortable. You noticed he was holding the bottle of NyQuil in one hand and a washcloth in the other. "Let me guess. You want to repay my kindness by helping me feel better." He shrugged. "I appreciate that, but I'm not feeling up to having visitors. Could you please leave?" The clown looked disappointed. “I really do appreciate it, but I feel horrible. Please.”

The clown’s expression changed to a smile. He began to move toward you. He sat on the side of the bed and removed the plastic cup from the bottle then unscrewed the lid and poured the medicine into the cup. Without warning he shoved the cup into your mouth, forcing it down your throat. You choked and gasped, nearly gagging from the terrible taste. To your dismay, he began filling the cup again. “I don’t need any more. You’re giving me too much.” He ignored you and shoved the medicine down your throat again. “Please stop, can’t handle any more.” Tears were in your eyes. The clown shrugged and this time nearly forced almost the whole bottle down your throat. You couldn’t handle it any more. You ran to the bathroom and somehow tripped over something in the doorway. You didn’t realize the clown stuck his foot out to trip you. You vomited all over the bathroom floor. The soup you ate was now the disgusting dark green color of the NyQuil. “Please, just go away and let me sleep.” You were shivering from the fever and sobbing. Why was he doing this? Art pointed at you and laughed. This was so much fun for him. You were much sicker than he thought. He pouted at you mockingly as if to say, “Aww, poor little thing.” You noticed the clown got a sadistic look in his eyes. That couldn’t be good. He roughly grabbed you and removed your clothes. You protested, begging him not to. He didn’t listen of corse. He pushed you into the shower and turned on the water. You screamed at the contact. He detached the shower head spraying water in your face. You choked and sputtered. Art slapped his knee as if it was the funniest thing. “It’s not funny, asshole.” Art feigned a gasp and then sprayed you again. He moved it so the rest of your body was wet. “Too…too cold. Please.” He grabbed the shampoo from the rack and washed your hair. Thankfully he wasn’t rough. You figured protesting was useless. It never got you anywhere. You broke down and sobbed as he washed the rest of your body. This was too much fun for Art. He wasn’t expecting to have so much fun. He thought he would let you live just a little longer. When it was finally over, you walked out shivering. He wrapped a towel around you. You glared at him. He smiled and batted his eyes at you. As you were putting clothes on, Art grabbed a syringe from his bag. You turned around and saw him with his hands behind his back. As he came up to you, he revealed the syringe with a long needle at the end. “No!” Before you could try to fight him off, he plunged it into your arm. It stung like hell. You slowly began to wobble and were disoriented. You collapsed over the bed and everything went black. You woke up the next morning. The vomit on the bathroom floor was gone. You went out to the kitchen and saw that the dishes were in the dishwasher. Your heart raced as you saw a note on your door. “I had fun last night. I’ll be back. Xoxo, Art.”

[darkshadow90]

An Update

Hey guys. I wanted to give an update since it’s been awhile since I made a post. I mentioned I had another idea for an Art the Clown one shot. I’ve started working on it, but it’s taking longer to finish. My work days have been longer than usual and it takes a lot out of me. I’m gonna try and finish it soon. At least I haven’t had any stress dreams…yet. I’m very glad to see people enjoying my one shots, particularly the ones based on nightmares I’ve had. I know I write Art pretty close to how he is in the movies, but I really enjoy writing a bunch of what if scenarios with him. And as always, I’m very glad to have all the support ❤️ Another quick thing, if you want to ask me something or DM me, you can. I’d love to hear from you 😊 I’ll finish the one shot as soon as I can.

[darkshadow90]

Another Idea for An Art the Clown one Shot

Hey guys. I have another idea for an Art the Clown one shot. It’s not the most original idea, but with it being cold and flu season, I thought I would write a one shot in which Art breaks into reader’s apartment when she’s sick. And because this is Art we’re talking about, he would take advantage of it in the worst way. I haven’t fully thought it through yet, but y’all know I write Art as such a cruel bastard 😆 Hopefully you’ll like what I come up with.

[darkshadow90]

So… apparently there’s a photo of what Art the Clown is supposed to look like without makeup 😱💀

Hey guys. I was looking to see if there’s been any news about Terrifier 4. I found a post on Reddit. Apparently it’s a photo of a facial cast of Art without makeup. I’m not sure if it’s an official photo or not. I already thought he looked scary as a clown, but holy shit he looks even scarier without it 😭 Here’s the link to the post. https://www.reddit.com/r/terrifier/comments/1lhzx0n/art_the_clown_without_makeup/?chainedPosts=t3_1g2oi32 Can anyone confirm if the photo is real?

[zizzlearts]

My shaylas <3

[darkshadow90]

Wow, such amazing art. I really like how menacing Pennywise looks here. A thing I really appreciate about the new series is how malicious Pennywise is. It’s nice to see more of him.

[darkshadow90]

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year, friends! I hope 2026 is amazing for all of you. I also wanted to say’s thanks to everyone for all your support for my writing. I’ll keep writing for 2026 for sure!

[darkshadow90]

Art the Clown x reader: Intimate Exploitation

Summary: You write an intimate entry detailing your struggle with loneliness. Little do you know a certain clown breaks into your apartment and exploits it to terrorize you.

A/N: Hey guys. I’m back with another one shot. In this one shot, reader has a journal she writes about struggling with loneliness and touch starvation. Art reads it and decides to make the most of it in the worst way possible. This is based on a stress dream I had when I was working the second part to Eyes on You. It wasn’t fun. This is also extremely personal for me as I have had experience with touch starvation and fear of intimacy IRL. I had Art be the one to exploit all of that because I know Art wouldn’t respect boundaries. My dream was fragmented and things just happened so I’m sorry if things are abrupt. I did the best I could to piece it together. The diary entries go into more detail later on in the story. They’re vague at first. I should mention there’s mention of a naked man holding reader’s body against his body. Nothing sexual happened but consent for him to be naked wasn’t given. Anyway, this is gonna be another intense one. Thanks so much to @lrithill and @wrathfulciphervirus for all the support. I’m so happy to have new readers! Warnings: Mentions of loneliness and touch starvation, fear of intimacy, non sexual nudity, non consensual cuddling featuring nudity, Art once again being a prick, Art makes reader very uncomfortable, mention of cannibalism, ect. I hope you like it. Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays 🙂

The nights had gotten colder as December was approaching in Miles County. You loved Christmas time. You loved seeing all the Christmas lights and decorations every year. You were excited to see what kind of decorations would be in the neighborhood this year. It was the end of November and the county had its first hard frost of the season. You had been struggling with feelings of loneliness and isolation. You got along well with your parents coworkers and neighbors. But you still felt like you had a deep lack of close friends and relationships. You bought an old teddy bear from a nearby thrift store. It was brown. Its muzzle and tips of its paws were white, as were the inside of its ears. It had a big black nose and black eyes, its tongue was sticking out of its mouth. It had a lot of charm and you desperately needed something to snuggle.

You decided to write about your struggles in your journal so you could get them off your chest. You wrote about the craving to be held close, to be loved. To feel safe in the embrace of another person. All of your emotions came to the surface as you wrote each entry. You wiped tears away. You took a long warm shower with your lavender and mint tea scented body wash. It did help soothe you. As the warm water washed over you, you imagined it was something hugging you from behind. After awhile you got out of the shower. You put on your nightshirt and fell asleep cuddling with the teddy bear.

You woke up the next morning to go get groceries. You were completely unaware that someone had been watching you as you left your apartment complex. It was none other than the Miles County Clown himself. He smiled as he knew who his next victim was going to be. You realized you would go ahead and open your mailbox so you wouldn’t risk forgetting to check it when you came back. As you were getting in your car, some of the mail slipped out of your hand. Art saw your apartment number on the envelope just before you bent over to pick it up. Now he knew which apartment you lived in. He couldn’t wait to break in and see your reaction. He waited until you left. He knew he wouldn’t be able to climb up the fire escape to get to your balcony with his garbage bag. So he decided to get in the old fashioned way; wait for someone to open the door. He waited for quite a while. He rolled his eyes in exasperation. Finally someone came out. He ran up to them and gestured for them to hold the door. “Hey, man, no problem. I got you.” Art gestured a thanks to him.

Once Art got inside, he looked around. The elevator was out of order. He would have to carry his garbage bag up three flights of stairs. He was annoyed, but he knew it would be worth it. He finally made it to the top floor and smiled to himself as he got to your door. He was strong enough to break it open and let himself in. He decided to take a look around. He noted how small it was. The bathroom was decently sized. To the left of it was the bedroom. He went into your bedroom. He noticed the large teddy bear on your bed and a notebook. He decided to read it. He was very excited by what he read. He couldn’t wait to use all of this against you. He removed his costume. Oh, how delicious all of this would be. He took his garbage bag from the living room and hid in the closet to wait for you. Art loved making his victims uncomfortable, and he knew from what he read in your diary, your reaction when you saw him would be perfect. He couldn’t wait.

You finally made it home. You put all of your groceries away. You groaned as you took your coat off. You pulled a muscle in your shoulder at the store. You figured a hot shower would help. Art waited patiently as you took your shower. He knew you hurt something as he heard you groan a few times. Aw, don’t worry he would make it better. You got out of the shower and put on your oversized t shirt and some underwear. You realized something was wrong. Your diary and scented lotion were missing. You checked all over your bedroom. You began to panic. “No, no, shit, where are they?” As you stood up from the side of your bed, that was when you saw him. A completely naked man. He was bald. He was wearing clown makeup. His face was painted white. His eyes and mouth were painted black. He was looking down the hallway. The prosthetics and makeup on his face didn’t match his normal looking body. You wanted to scream, but couldn’t. You were frozen with fear. Art caught you staring and winked at you. You felt your face grow hot from embarrassment. His teeth were disgusting.

He held up the bottle of lotion and diary as if to say, “Looking for these?” You ran toward him. “Give them back!” He held them up higher so you couldn’t reach them. He pushed you away easily. He opened the diary and tapped on the page. You were horrified. “No. I’m not gonna read them.” He shoved the diary toward you insisting that you read it. You took a breath. “I bought a teddy bear today. It’s been so long since I had something to cuddle. I’m so lonely and isolated. I really hope this helps.” You swallowed thickly as you turned the page. “I’ve been taking longer showers lately. I want so badly to feel the warmth of another person’s embrace. This and the lotion are helping.” You sniffled, barely keeping it together as you made it to the last entry. Your eyes were filling with tears and you looked at the clown. He gestured for you to keep going. “I feel like I’m at my breaking point. It’s been so long since I’ve received affectionate touch. I want it so badly. I wish it wasn’t sexualized so much because then I could feel safe. I don’t want sex, I just want to be held. I want touch but at the same time, I’m terrified of it. I’m scared of what might happen like last time…holding me against his naked body…it was too much. Nothing sexual happened, but it was way too intimate. I’m scared if I ever get the affection I crave, I’ll fall apart. When I was at the salon the other day, the lady washing my hair was so gentle, almost motherly. Her hands felt so nice. I managed to keep it together, but once I got to my car, I cried.” You lost it and tears streamed down your face. The clown pointed at you and laughed silently.

Your body wracked with sobs and you felt a chill run through you. “So…so cold.” Your hair was still wet. The clown held up the bottle of lotion and raised his eyebrows as if to say, “Oh? Is that an invitation?” He began to walk towards you. “Wh—what are you doing?” He kept walking towards you. You shook your head. “No…” You tried to get up, but just as you did, the clown snatched you by the arm and you fell back on the bed. He got on the bed and pulled you against him. “Stop!” He sat up and pulled you against him so your back was facing him. “Let go!” You tried to break free from his grip, but he was too strong. You felt like you were caged in as he had both arms around you. “Please…” You started to cry again. Without warning, you felt the lotion on your arm and cried out. He was deceptively gentle. You hated it. It was humiliating. Once he was finished with one arm, he moved on to the other one.

Art continued the same routine with your arm. He smiled to himself as he heard you crying. Initially he had just planned to break in and kill you, but this was far more entertaining for him. You gave him all the reactions he was hoping for and more. He hadn’t expected you to be this much fun. When he got to your left shoulder he grazed it with his teeth, contemplating whether to bite it or not. He smiled as he felt you tense up. “No! Don’t!” He decided not to bite you. The “meat” was too tough from the strained muscle anyway. He liked the scent of the lotion. It smelled like lavender and mint. Maybe he would take it with him. He rubbed it on your shoulder and you let out an involuntary pained groan. He kept going. He purposely applied more pressure. “It hurts please stop.” You kept crying from the pain. He finally finished. Of course he didn’t stop with just your arms. He moved on to your legs and that was when you lost it. Art reveled in every sound you made. All the begging and pleading, your sobs, the little whimpers. He would remember this for a long time. He mocked your pleas and laughed. Fucking asshole.

You were mortified. You felt like he took everything from you. He let you lay back. You thought he would leave. He didn’t he laid on the opposite side of the bed and pulled you in, held you against his naked body just like the man from years ago. You shook uncontrollably. Eventually he put the covers over you and gave you a condescending look as if to say, “There. Feel better?” You glared at him with rage. He giggled silently and ruffled your hair. Eventually you gave into the exhaustion and fell asleep. You woke up the next morning with an empty page torn from your diary. You went out to the living room and saw a note in your doorway. It said, “Art was here” with a heart drawn next to it.

[itslilithe]

Man was in pure pain 😔

[darkshadow90]

Sienna! That’s my girl! She jingled his bells real good 🤣 It’s impressive that Art got up so fast. I think most guys would still be on the floor in pain. Art took it like a champ.

[darkshadow90]

Art the Clown: Reader Calls 911

Summary: You wake up to get a glass of water and hear snow crunching outside. You see a very scary looking clown, he notices you, and you immediately call police for help. It doesn’t end well.

A/N: Hey guys. A little something different this time around. I came across a Character called Art the clown. He’s from the Terrifier movies. I haven’t seen any of the movies, but I’ve seen clips of Art. He’s so fucking scary but can also be funny. I have to give props to his actor. Art never says a word, but his facial expressions and his gestures communicate so much. He’s a silent character with so much to say. The actor gave him so much personality. Anyway, I got an idea for a one shot in which the reader wakes up to get a drink and hears snow crunching outside. She notices Art outside her front door. He notices her, and feeling very uneasy she immediately calls 911. It doesn’t end well. I apologize if Art is out of character. I hope you still enjoy the one shot 🙂 Warnings: Art being creepy, implied death of reader but nothing specific. I’m leaving that up to your imagination.

It was a cold winter day. You woke up from an afternoon nap. Still drunk from sleep, you went to the kitchen to grab something to drink. As you were walking back to your room, you stopped in your tracks as you heard snow crunching outside. You turned to your front door and froze at what you saw. Standing outside your front door was a clown. He had a small black hat on his head. He was wearing a black and white clown suit. His face was panted white. His eyes and lips had black paint around them. That wasn’t the most unsettling part, though. As he turned his head toward the little windows on the side of the door, he noticed you, smiled at you and waved. You got a better look at his face. It seemed unusually large for a human face with sharp features. His teeth were huge. They looked rotten. You wondered if this clown was even human. He certainly looked demonic. That smile chilled you to the bone. It screamed dangerous. You quickly grabbed your phone and called 911.

“911, what is your emergency?” “There is a very creepy clown standing outside my front door.” The dispatcher paused for a minute. “A clown, ma’am?” “Yes, he’s just standing there smiling at me. He hasn’t moved. Can you send someone out here?” “What is your address?” You gave the dispatcher your address. “Are you alone?” “Yeah, I’m alone.” “Okay, I’ll notify a squad, but it’ll take some time since you’re quite a ways out.” You were trying not to panic. The clown was still standing there smiling it was like he was frozen. “Are all of your doors and windows locked? Stay on the phone with me, okay? We need to check and make sure everything is locked.” She was trying to keep you calm. “Well, I know my front door and all the windows are locked. I’ll check the back door.” You slowly backed away from the front door, not taking your eyes off the clown and as you got further away, you ran to the back door and locked it.

You hoped maybe the clown was just messing with you. You walked back to the front door. “This might sound strange, but I really hope…” The clown had now moved to your front window, his face and both hands pressed against it. You jumped back, startled. “What the fuck?” “Ma’am, are you still there?” “His face…it’s pressed up against the front window.” “Ma’am?” “He pressed his face against the window and his smile is even wider now. What the fuck?” Your voice is becoming more panicked. “Can you please send someone here fast?” “I’ve notified officers and they’re on their way. Try to stay calm, okay?” “He’s got no color in his eyes. He…” That was when you lost your composure. “Please can you help me?” “Just stay on the phone with me, and calm down. Everything will be alright.” You began to doubt that it would be okay.

You knew something was very wrong. This clown seemed to enjoy tormenting you. “Go away!” He pulled out a scalpel and tapped on the glass, grin still wide. “He won’t stop staring at me. He’s gonna hurt me. Jesus, please help me. Why won’t you fucking leave?!” The clown mimicked your crying, mocking you. He was laughing, but wasn’t making any sound. It occurred to you he was mute. “Is there somewhere you can hide until police get there?” You kept sobbing. The dispatcher kept trying to talk you through the situation. “I need you to lock yourself in a bedroom or a basement until the police get there. Do you have a place like that where you can hide?” The woman was still speaking to you calmly. She knew how to comfort you at least a little bit. This definitely wasn’t her first tense situation. “Yeah…I’m gonna go hide in my room.” “And you’re absolutely certain you’re alone?” “Yes, I’m alone in the house.” The clown was no longer smiling. He now looked eerily serious. He began to move. “He’s moving. He’s shaking his head. Oh God, he heard me the entire time!” He was shaking his head to tell you that you weren’t alone.

All the dispatcher could hear was glass breaking and a loud thud. “Ma’am, are you still there? Can you hear me? If you can hear me press a number key.” All that followed was the call being disconnected.

[darkshadow90]

Celebrating one year since I wrote my very first Art the Clown one shot 🥰

[darkshadow90]

Art the Clown x reader: Eyes on You Part 2

Summary: After being kidnapped by Art, you are held hostage and unwillingly taken with him to track down the witness who spotted him at the Deer Hills Pizzaria. You try to stop him. It will cost you dearly.

A/N: Hey guys. Finally, here it is, Part 2! So sorry it took me so long to get this out! Life has been crazy. I know being busy is always my excuse, but it’s been so hard to find time to write. So things may get a little interesting. As you know last time, Art kidnaps reader, and things ended ambiguously. Art holds the reader hostage and forces her to accompany him to track down the witness who spotted him at the diner. This is my second time writing a second part to a one shot. I had some help from @lrithill with ideas about where to go with this, and I decided to put them in the story. I hope you guys like this. Warnings: Reader being held against her will, mentions of murder, ect. Let me know if I missed any warnings. Y/N stands for Your Name L/S stands for Last Name. I apologize if the ending is anticlimactic. Also, it’s my first time writing gore so please be kind. Here’s the link to part 1. You can copy and paste it into your browser. https://www.tumblr.com/darkshadow90/788199283096764416/art-the-clown-x-reader?source=share

You slowly regained consciousness. At first your vision was blurry as you opened your eyes a light blinded you. As your vision came back into focus, you realized there was a light above your head. You felt dizzy and nauseated. You began to regain feeling in your arms and legs. You tried to move, but you couldn’t. You looked down and realized you were tied to a chair. Your mouth was taped shut. You were being kept in some kind of basement. You tried not to panic, as the last thing you remembered was someone grabbing you from behind and stabbing you in the arm and then you passed out. The clown must’ve brought you here. There were various weapons and types of saws. No doubt he brought you here to kill you.

The door creaked open and the clown walked in. He grinned at you, his disgusting teeth fully on display. He had a cup in his other hand. He sat it down on the ground and excitedly walked over to the saws. You watched him with trepidation. He took the largest saw from the pile and presented it to you as if he was the girl from The Price is Right. At that moment you panicked. Your throat burned as you screamed and tears streamed down your face as the clown lunged at you as if he was going to stab you with it at any moment and start cutting. The clown was laughing silently and moving his arm with his hand out, a gesture as if to say “It’s too much.” What an asshole. He put the saw away and playfully tapped on it with his hand, indicating that it would stay in the pile…for now.

He picked up the cup and brought it to you and gestured for you to take it. You looked down and his eyes followed. He knew you were telling him you couldn’t take it due to being tied up. The clown put his hand up to his forehead chuckling silently, shaking his head as if to say, “Silly me, I forgot you’re tied up.” He crouched down so he was at eye level with you. He quickly ripped the tape from your mouth. Before you could pull your head away to try and fight him off, he shoved the cup into your mouth, forcing you to drink. Thankfully it was just water. You choked and sputtered as it went down your throat. He smiled and condescendingly patted your head as if to say, “Good girl, there you go.” Once the last bit of water went down your throat, you gasped for air.

“What the hell? Are you trying to drown me?” The clown shrugged. “I want to go home. It’s scary here.” He ignored you. “Why am I here? Please, my family and neighbors will be worried.” The clown pointed to something in the corner. It was a small TV. He turned it on. “It has been two days since Y/N L/N went missing from a local cafe near the Deer Hills Pizzaria. Her car was found in the parking lot with the tires slashed. Police suspect she was abducted. There are no leads yet, but anyone with information is advised to call the non emergency police number.” He turned off the TV and laughed silently. “You need me for something, don’t you.” He nodded. “You’re really him, aren’t you. You’re Art.” He nodded again. “But there’s no way. How did you survive?” He looked at you, his grin widening. He batted his eyes at you then rolled his eyes as if to say, “Aren’t you full of questions.” He was mocking you, the arrogant prick. “I suppose if you could talk I bet you’d tell me some supernatural entity resurrected you or something.” He ignored you. It was the only thing that made sense. “You know I saw the news about you and the horrible things you did. You want me to help you with something. “Well, whatever it is, forget it.” He laughed and waved you away as if to say, “You think you have a choice. That’s cute.” Art laughed silently, clearly amused by the situation.

You managed to find your voice again. “How did you find me? If you were in fact resurrected by some supernatural force, I’m willing to bet they led you to me, and you need me for something, right?” Art once again shrugged as if to say, “Maybe.” “I already told you, I’m not interested in helping you. Besides, how would we get anywhere without a car?” Art responded with a sickening grin. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head forward, causing you to cry out in pain. He forced your mouth open with his other hand. Before you could close it, he shoved a piece of gauze in your mouth and taped it shut. Art of course found all of this hilarious, but soon you noticed his smile changed to an unnerving frown, like the one he gave the girls at the diner. He was looking at the wall in front of him, but you didn’t see anyone there. Whoever it was, they were interrupting his fun and he didn’t like it.

He turned back to you as if to say, “Too bad, guess the fun is over.” He somehow managed to rip the large amounts of duct tape that kept your hands and feet bound to the chair. You got up and realized it was a mistake. You became dizzy. Evidently the drugs weren’t fully out of your system yet. You tried to run for the door, but you almost fell from dizziness. Art grabbed you and began to drag you back with him. You were too weak to pull away as Art dragged you outside. A large van was parked there. Art opened the back of it and tossed you in before closing the doors. The last thing you heard before passing out is the driver’s seat door opening and closing. Art had given you a higher dose of the sedative than usual. Just enough so you would be subdued just a little longer. You were part of his list of victims, after all. But not before tracking down the surviving witness that spotted him at the Pizzaria. He wanted to have fun with you first.

The entity that had resurrected him had also led him to you, and was now leading him to the woman who spotted him at the Pizzaria. Art noticed your unease the first time you saw him. He couldn’t blame you. Anyone with common sense should feel uncomfortable around him. Usually people were rude to him, but you were nice to him. Not that it mattered. Had plans not gone south that night, he would’ve tracked you down after finishing Victoria off. Thankfully things worked out, and now you were right where he wanted you. You poor dear, poor thing. Art chuckled to himself. He knew you would behave. A few hours had passed when you woke up. You forgot your mouth was taped shut as you tried to speak. The van wasn’t moving. You sat up. Art shushed you silently as he got out of the van. He took someone’s stolen debit card with him. You heard something click as it pushed against the door. He stopped to get gas. No doubt he stole the van, too. You didn’t know where you were going. It was quite a ways out.

You thought about ways to try to get out maybe you could try and tell Art you needed to go to the bathroom. But once you remembered what he was capable of, you decided against it. You couldn’t add more victims to Art’s list. You began to cry as you realized the hopelessness of the situation. Art got back in the car. He smiled to himself as he heard your sobs. He turned to you and mimicked your sad expression, running a finger down his cheek, mocking your tears. He could make out a few words from your muffled pleas. “I won’t tell anyone. Please, just let me go.” At this, Art mocked your pleas and then shook his head to tell you no, he would not be letting you go. Your muffled, angry words that came next were clearly an insult, to which Art feigned a gasp, and put a hand over the O shape of his mouth. He then giggled silently and ruffled your hair playfully. He started the van and drove off.

After quite some time, you eventually came to a hospital. Amazingly Art parked the van safely in the parking lot.Art got out of the driver’s seat and came around the back to let you out. You hadn’t really paid attention until now, but the man seemed like a giant compared to you. It made you feel so small and helpless. He yanked you from the van and tore the tape from your mouth. “What are we doing here? Are you hoping to make me an accomplice?” Art shook his head. “This person you’re looking for is a survivor, aren’t they?” Art nodded. “How do you expect to not get caught? A hospital is the safest place on Earth.” Art ignored you and kept you close to him. Just before entering the building, Art gave you a warning look as if to say, “Don’t get any cute ideas.” You eventually made it to a supply closet, where both of you changed into medical scrubs. Both you and Art went to the front desk. Art seemed to know exactly where he was going.

You tried to pull away from Art to make a run for it and call for help, but that impulse quickly died out as you felt something sharp against your back. “First of the night rounds, huh?” Art gestured for you to answer. “Yeah. Just checking on a patient.” You wanted to explain the situation to her so badly. You noticed Art was looking down the hall. “Alright, I’ll put you on the list. Don’t work yourselves too hard.” As you and Art made it to the witness’s room, you quickly took action. You took out the scalpel you took from the inventory closet and stabbed Art in the chest. The girl woke up, scared at what she was seeing. “It’s okay, I’m here to help, but you have t come with me quickly. We don’t have much time.” The girl nodded and took your hand.

The two of you sprinted down the hall, not looking back. You knew enough about Art to know he wasn’t easy to take down. He was probably not far behind you and no doubt mad as a hornet. “I was kidnapped by the clown you saw and held hostage a few days ago. I’m guessing he brought me here to serve as his audience and kill you right in front of me before killing me. I suppose that would make him quite the twisted clown. If we can get some distance from him and safely make it to security we might be able to get out of here. I’m so sorry for both of us.” You eventually made it to an empty office and told her to hide under it. “I promise, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here making a phone call, okay?” She was relieved. Right as you picked up the phone, the girl let out a blood curdling scream.

Something sharp pierced your neck and rammed itself joyfully down your chest cavity. You felt it rip you apart from the inside. You coughed up blood and fell to the ground. The sharp object ran back down from your chest through your stomach. Art waved at you. The last thing you saw was Art approaching the terrified girl.

[urbancripple]

A Prominent Accessibility Advocate Worked With Studios and Inspired Change. But She Never Actually Existed. - IGN

In the years since the alleged death of beloved accessibility advocate Susan Banks, mounting evidence and accounts from those close to her w

Yes, this is a long article. Yes, there are a lot of names of people involved. You - yes you - person who is scrolling while taking a shit, should read this. Just sit and read it and take it all in. Especially if you care about accessibility in gaming.