Hi I’m Eden. I am a multi fandom enjoyer, but currently I’m very focused on Love and Deepspace. Though you might see some other fandom content at random!
NOTE: I AM NOW HOPING TO WRITE FOR DATE EVERYTHING
I currently DO take requests for LADS a, but no guarantees that I will write it. I will not write any full nsfw work as I do not like writing that type of content.
I will write for all the LADS boys, but to my Xavier girlies, please be kind as I try to get his character right as you guys deserve to eat well.
As for Date Everything, Eddie and Volt are my main focus (I love more characters, but they have taken over my brain)
Soooo as for requests n such, I write poly, hurt/comfort, ect.
I do NOT write only hurt fics, gross stuff like incest or anything of the like, again no nsfw
I will update these rules as I go along, but I guess my main rule is to be kind, respectful, and don't spread hate <3
synopsis: your a little needy for some affection, so what a perfect time to test out how your lover would react to you asking for a kiss. a perfect opportunity, no?
wc: ~
forewarning: kissing, slight suggestiveness, implied sex for Harlequin and Jester. if I've missed any let me know. not proofread.
check notes at the end of the post. enjoy <3
⚜ 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧:
He has an inkling of what you're gonna ask him before you even have the opportunity to. He almost immediately weaponises that knowledge of you craving his affection.
"Aw, what's wrong?"
"Miss me already?~"
He'll be even more unbearable if you had seen him less than an hour ago prior to you asking him for kisses. If he's in an especially teasing mood, he'll dodge your first few attempts to steal a kiss, just so he could hear you whine. He loves seeing you chase after him.
Definitely will laugh in your face when you pout.
Once your needy enough for him, he'll cave. Pulling reactions out of you amuse him too much. Maybe a little too much.
He'll grab your waist and steal a kiss before you can complain. Then another. Then another. Until he makes you forget why you were complaining in the first place.
He'll definitely make it up to you though for teasing you by giving you the affection you want from him and more. be prepared to not be able to walk.
"You've been following me, little bird~"
You paused in your step, pretending to find the fabric of his tent walls interesting instead. "No, I haven't."
Harlequin glanced over his shoulder, his sharp teeth on full display with his exaggerated grin.
"Oh, is that so?"
"I was just..." you fumbled around for a valid excuse. "... walking."
"Only behind me like a duckling?"
"That's a coincidence."
"Ah," he hummed in mock thoughtfulness. "I didn't know coincidences could last more than ten minutes."
You were silent for a few moments, the tips of your ears burning. "I, um suppose it's rare, but possible."
He laughed, fulling pivoting on his foot to face you properly now. "You're awful at lying, dear one. Leave that one to me."
You huffed, frowning and crossing your arms over your chest. "Maybe if someone paid attention to me-"
"Ah, so you just wanted my attention was it?" he easily cut you off and hummed mockingly, pretending to not know a thing. Who was acting now?
You rolled your eyes. "Don't play dumb, I knew you would figure it out eventually."
"It was rather obvious the moment you started trailing after me like a sad little puppy." He leaned lazily against one of the beams holding his tent up. "So, what do you want?"
"You know what I want," you grumbled. He was so utterly insufferable.
He tapped his chin to make it seem like he was in deep thought. "Do I? Doesn't really ring a bell. Might have to say it out loud, doll."
You glared up at him, an annoyed groan escaping his lips. "You're being irritating!"
"Tch, I have things to do, love," he tapped his foot on the ground at a constant tempo, making it seem like your time was running out. You knew for a fact that he didn't have anything to go and do after this but you were embarrassingly desperate so you humoured him anyway.
"I want kisses," you murmured, your cheeks beginning to colour.
He cupped a hand to where his ear would be, pretending not to have heard what you said, and leaned down closer to your face. "Hm? What was that?"
The pink on your face flared even more. "... Kiss me," you repeated, a little louder than before.
"Louder, doll."
"I hate you."
"No you don't~"
"Ugh," you groaned, throwing your hands in the air in frustration. "Piss off. Forget it."
"Oh?" He asked like he hadn't done a single thing.
"I don't want one anymore," you grumbled, turning to walk out of his green tent.
"Aw, sweet thing, you're a terrible liar." He easily caught up to you in two strides and clasped his hand around your wrist to pull you back. "Will you keep pouting until someone gives you attention?"
You let out a quiet 'hmph', and refused to give him the satisfaction of a response. He was simply enjoying riling you up far too much.
And before you could protest against him any further, he leaned down close enough for your nose to barely brush against his face.
"My needy little darling."
A flicker of warmth passed through his green pupils before he closed the gap and met your lips in a long, well-deserved kiss.
His hand let go of your wrist and instead slipped around your waist, effortlessly pulling you closer until there wasn't even an inch between you.
When he pulled back for a small moment, he barely let you breathe before he dove back in for another kiss. The second one was slower and lingered just long enough to leave you slightly dazed when he finally drew back.
A thin string of saliva still connected the both of you, and his grin was so wide. His hands wandered down to grope the curve of your back.
"Mm, forget my plans, I'm doing you next~"
It was safe to say you finally got all the attention you deserved.
🃟 𝐉𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫:
He absolutely notices you're seeking affection way before you even ask. He's studied a fair bit about humans.
But he's cruel, and he'll let you squirm on purpose for a while. He enjoys making you ask for exactly what you want. He won't give it to you otherwise.
"Use your words."
"You're capable of asking."
He'll still make you ask, even if you pout. Matter of fact especially if you pout. And once you finally mumble your request, his arrogant smirk is mocking. He asks you if that was so hard to do.
But if you're having a horrible day and is genuinely feeling needy and not able to deal with his playfulness, his teasing will ease considerably.
He enjoys having control over the interaction.
He'll hook a finger beneath your chin and make direct eye contact with you for a long moment before closing the distance. He would kiss you slowly enough to leave you completely flustered.
Then he asks if you're satisfied, but he knows the answer. He'll kiss you again, without making you beg this time.
Secretly, he loves how much you seek him out for affection. It reassures him that you're choosing him.
"Is there a reason why you're staring at me?"
You flinch a little at the sudden question. Jester hadn't even looked up from the book he was reading, and you nearly thought you had imagined him asking that. Until he spoke again.
"Answer me, doll."
"... I wasn't."
"You have."
The purple clown leaned back in his chair, his eyes flitting up to meet yours across the room. He watched over you for a moment, folding his arms over his chest.
"I know you've wanted something for the last fifteen minutes."
You didn't know how to respond, because as always, he had hit the nail on the coffin. Sometimes you wondered if he knew you better than you knew yourself.
"Subtlety isn't exactly your strong suit."
You crossed your arms too, letting out a soft huff. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"No?"
"No."
He waited patiently and silently. Time seemed to stretch, and the room was filled with tension. You cracked first.
"... Ok, fine. You're right," you grumbled quietly.
The curve of his lips told you that he knew you would cave. And that he knew you wanted something from him. You looked away from him for a brief moment.
"I hate it when you're right."
"I know."
Then he motioned you closer with two long fingers. You obeyed without question, and not entirely because he told you to come, but because you wanted to be close to him. You craved his affection.
Once you were close enough in front of him, he spread his legs wider before patting his lap once in invitation.
You quickly took your favourite seat without a second thought. He tilted your chin upwards once you were comfortable on his leg, the claw of his finger threatening to break your delicate skin.
"What do you want, doll?"
You suddenly felt a little shy under his close and intense gaze.
"You won't get it until you use that pretty mouth and tell me."
You knew he wasn't joking. "I wanted... a kiss."
His smile widened just slightly. "Ah, now that wasn't so hard, was it? You didn't have to waste time ogling me."
You huffed. "Well pardon me, I thought my wishes were quite obvious."
"They quite were."
"Then you could've just kissed me!"
"I could have," he replied easily. "But I wanted you to ask.
You rolled your eyes. But there was fondness in the action. His thumb traced lightly along the smooth skin of your jaw.
"You must be so needy, hm? You've been restless all afternoon," he stated casually. "You wanted my attention so bad, doll?"
Your cheeks burned, it was a little embarrassing how Jester could read you so well like an only book. "... Maybe."
He chuckled lowly, before moving his hand to the back of your neck and pulling you forward into a kiss. The action wasn't hurried. It was delicious enough to leave you leaning forward for some more when he pulled away.
"... That's all?" you asked before you could stop yourself.
"You asked for a kiss," he replied casually. It was so matter-of-fact it caught you off guard for a moment. Then you groaned.
"Ugh, are you serious? ... I was hoping you'd misunderstand."
He chuckled once more, his other hand coming down to settle on your thigh. "Your requesting skills need some work."
You leaned into him. "Will you kiss me again?"
"If you're good."
"You make it sound like I'm a pet," you grumbled.
Jester slid his hands up your thighs and kissed you again before you could complain any further. And since you asked so sweetly, he rewarded you with the attention you craved. Thoroughly.
𖦹 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐭:
He doesn't expect for you to ask him for a kiss, bless him. He freezes up for a second, processing the fact that you were the one who initiated it.
The golden pupils in the slits of his eyes immediately turn into pink hearts, and a faint hue rests on his white cheeks. He looks down at you with pure fondness.
"Of course, my love, whatever you desire.~"
When he does kiss you, he cups your face with both hands like you're something incredibly fragile. He never ever rushes kisses. Every single one would feel intentional, like there's a reason behind every press of your lips.
Expect kisses everywhere. He won't just stop at one, and he won't stop at just your lips either. Forehead, the curve of you cheeks, nose, chin - no where is safe.
He's incredibly happy to indulge you if you've been clingy all day. In fact, he'll be equally as clingy. The needier you are, the more convinced he will become that you are happiest and safest beside him.
He will silently, but eagerly, wait for the next time you ask him for sweet affection.
Pierrot had been looking through the miscellaneous items in your top kitchen drawer. He couldn't help but observe how some things that probably weren't supposed to be in a kitchen had made it to where the utensils were supposed to be.
Every few minutes or so, his eyes wandered away from the drawer to where you were sprawled across the sofa, dramatically sighing into a decorative pillow.
"..."
Then came another sigh, a little louder than the last.
His clawed-fingers dug into his palms. Were you alright? Was his beloved human in pain?
He frowned in concern, quietly walking up to where you lay, your drawer left open and forgotten.
"My dear... are you feeling okay?"
You shift to lay on your back, looking up to find a worried look on the red clown's face. Internally, you were proud of yourself. Your efforts to draw him in had succeeded.
"No..."
He dropped down to his knees in less than a second so that he was eye-level with you, gently pushing the hair out of your face.
"What's wrong? Is everything alright? Do you need anything? Was it that nasty green goblin again? I swear I'll-"
You let out a soft laugh, quickly pressing a finger against his mouth to shush his rambling.
"No, Pierrot. I just missed you."
He fell quiet, his pupils dilating so wide you thought the gold would overtake the black. "... Me?"
"Yes you, silly." You held out your arms out toward him without hesitation, silently asking for a hug. "I want kisses."
He took a long moment to process your words, but the second he did, he pounced on you like he weighed nothing at all.
"Kisses? You want kisses from me?" He asked excitedly like he couldn't believe his own ears. You giggled beneath him, he was acting like an adorable puppy. If he had a tail, you knew he would be wagging it right now.
"Mhm, from you. Please?"
Pierrot practically melted at that soft 'please'. His cheeks burned with a red that almost matched his clothes, and his eyes sparkled with pink hearts.
"Of course, my love, whatever you desire, anything you want."
And then he leaned down to kiss you. The touch was gentle and full of reverence, like he was afraid of breaking you.
And when he pulled back from the kiss to let you breath, he moved on to press soft, sweet pecks to every other inch of your face.
He kissed you like he had nowhere else he would rather be, like this was exactly what he had come into this world to do. So gentle, unhurried and warm.
He was beaming when he was done, so unbelievably happy that you had asked him, and that he was the one you had asked. His arms wrapped around you tightly.
"Please never stop asking me. I want to kiss you all the time."
You smiled down at him sweetly as he rested on your chest, your fingers gently carding through his white strands. He was so utterly adorable.
ʚɞ author's note // heyy, ofc you can submit a request! this is such a cute scenario and tysm to the anon that requested this <3 I was feeling motivated so I did do both headcannons and a small one-shot for each one, I hope that's ok. I also hope I did the prompt justice! if I've made any mistakes please let me know. have a blessed day, angels xx.
images, headers and dividers used are not mine, they all belong to their rightful owners. ᯓ★ @asiatic-apple (star dividers) @lobster-graphics (black card divider) @uzmacchiato (green, purple, red dividers).
AN: just a short oneshot about burnout. This is probably the most self indulgent thing I’ve written bahaha. I really wanted to write something more impressive for Pierrot since I like him so much, but ended up with this instead. Rated T, 1,500 words.
-----
“I'm sorry.”
Blinking, Pierrot turned his head just enough to look at his lover lying beside him. “Whatever for, my Lady?”
She didn't move. Hadn't moved, actually- since he'd first glimpsed her laying on her bedroom floor through the window. He'd been so alarmed he'd forgotten all proprietary and climbed inside, checking her over.
Thankfully, she was fine. Alive, but unwilling to be lifted into the comfort of her bed. Other than that, she didn't react to very much of anything. So he'd simply shifted his long, gangly limbs to lie beside her, staring blankly at the dark ceiling. The hour was late and not a soul stirred outside. It felt as though they'd entered their own private bubble.
“For…this,” she murmured, voice remaining quiet, muted.
A heaviness clouded her scent. Strong. Sad. It had been there since he'd first climbed into her room several hours ago. He was certain it was responsible for weighing her limbs and heart down, to the point she couldn’t move. It reminded him of the scent of wounded prey huddled within its den.
She wet her lips. “For being…like this,” shifting slightly, glassy eyes slid up to him. “I really wanted to be my best self for you, you know? Exciting. Interesting. Cool. Lively.”
“But-”
“I wanted to have energy for you,” she continued softly, hands curling into loose fists at her sides. “I used to have so much of it as a kid. I don’t know where it all went. When I first saw you- I actually thought- hey- I want to draw that guy. Especially his eyes.”
Pierrot didn't mind her jumping between topics so quickly. He blushed, shifting his whole body so that he was lying on his side, white hair spilling towards her.
“R-really? You did?” He breathed. “I'd be honoured, my dearest.”
“Heh, I'd like to,” she smiled without humour. Her arms lifted, gesturing at nothing as she tried to motion with her hands. “I used to use pastels- the chalk got all over my fingers, but I loved spreading them over a page. They could make such lovely colours for backgrounds if you blended them right.”
Her arms dropped, the light that had briefly entered her gaze fading anew.
Pierrot held his breath, claws twitching. Slowly, carefully, his hand inched down, brushing his knuckles over the back of her hand. “But you don't use them anymore?” he gently prompted.
“I don't draw at all anymore. Hardly ever. I'm usually too tired after finishing work,” his lover paused, brows knitting together. “The last time I even sketched must've been…damn- two years ago, maybe?”
The clown, noticing her lack of revulsion, inched his large monstrous hand down, until black claws slid between her fingers, clasping their palms together. He could feel her faint heat even through the material of his gloves.
“I could write too,” she rambled, voice becoming thick with stifled emotion.
Pierrot crooned encouragingly, inching closer, breath now fanning over the crown of her head. “What did you write about, my love?”
“Oh all sorts of things, load of rubbish I'm sure,” she laughed, body remaining frozen and unmoving. He stroked his thumb over her knuckles all the same, hoping she could feel him in her numbed state. “Loved…Romance though. Writing it. Dialogue was my favourite. The banter, the emotion. The sexual tension."
“I-I love love too,” Pierrot smiled with his teeth, shifting his free arm to slide closer, stroking her damp hair. She'd forgotten to dry it after showering, or maybe she simply didn't have the energy to use her hair dryer. “Why then, do you sound so sad talking about it? The arts are meant to comfort us.”
“Because I was good at it. Well, not the best, but I could finish projects. They had plots, fun ones! I could sit at my laptop and damn, 70,000 words was nothing back then," she said. “Now I…well I'm lucky if I could manage 100 a day. I'm just so tired, Pierrot. A-and I don't know who I am without it. I just go to work all day, become exhausted, come home- and barely have it in me to do much of anything. I wish I…I wish I could write about you.”
He felt himself light up. His veins buzzed with the hot onslaught of blood pumping strongly through his system, heart fluttering wildly. He couldn’t help himself. His arms wrapped around her unresisting form, pulling her completely into his all-encompassing warmth. Even his leg hitched to tangle between hers, a low rumbling noise escaping his chest.
“Oh my dear. Hearing that from you- it's enough to fill my heart to bursting. Don't sound so sad, my sweet love,” he cooed, nuzzling his mask into her hair and breathing in her sad scent. “If you are tired, merely rest. It is not a crime to rest your weary head, is it?”
Frustration leaked into her brittle voice. “But I've been ‘resting’ for years now, surely. When can I get back to how I used to be, Pierrot?”
“I do not know. We are sometimes too changed by time to simply ‘go back’ and must make do with our new selves, I think. But I do know…you are perhaps too hard on yourself,” he stroked the tense lines of her body, smiling as she gradually yielded to his touch. “And you needn't be lively on my account. I like everything about you. That includes this secret side to you, my love. I'm so pleased you've allowed me to see it. To hold you in such a vulnerable state. I will protect and love this weary side of you too. I can lick your wounds…soothe them,” he cooed, brushing away her tears as they began to fall, rolling down her lovely cheeks. “Tell me what you'd write about," he offered, trying to distract her. "Help me see it.”
She sniffed, breathing in and out, turning on her side to face him now.
“A-ah, well…I'd probably write about your aerial acrobatics.”
“Really? You like them?”
“They're unique,” she gave a wobbly smile that bent her lips at the edges. “I haven’t written about that before. Can't believe you perform without a safety net,” she shook her head.
Pierrot brushed more and more hot tears away, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over her cheeks. She made a stifled sound that tore at his heart, ducking her head and resting it against his chest.
“I-I would…write about you using the- the-” her hands circled around one another. “Scarves? See, I can’t even remember words very well anymore! I used to be able to think clearer. Pick out words easily.”
Another rumbling noise escaped from his chest, amusement colouring his voice. “Silks, my love. I use silks. Do not worry. If you fail to recall something, we can always talk about it. Perhaps your mind is...like a muscle, and needs to be built up again? Retained, so that the words come easier."
She huffed, and blessedly, he felt her hands slide up his chest, resting there. His heartbeat quickened under her touch. “I’d write about how you climb them while performing- twirling so high above the audience. How you wrap them around your limbs, twisting and unravelling- freefalling! Heh, I was on edge when I watched you.”
Slowly, a contented smile spread across Pierrot’s face. He ducked his chin, pressing his mouth to her hair and stroking the contours of her back. “Hm~hm~ very good. What else?”
She kept talking, rambling about aerial hoops, the flying trapeze, and various other feats he could perform while in the air. Her voice lost its uncertainty, gaining strength with each new imagined sentence she could craft.
Pierrot held her throughout, even when she began to lose steam again, falling quiet and uncertain anew. He kissed her, and tried to make love to her ego, to soothe the battered, tired thing she’d curled into, but ultimately they both knew her strength was something that needed time to cultivate.
But with care, it could be done.
“Pierrot?” came a soft tone, hours later when he thought she’d fallen asleep.
“Yes, my dearest?”
“What if I write it…and it's bad?”
“Hmnn...well…” he thought for a moment. “It would feature you and I, together on a page, would it not?”
“Yeah?”
He smiled and kissed her, the bells of his hat jingling softly. “Then it would be the greatest piece of literature in the whole world in my eyes. You needn’t fear about that,” he smiled, looking down at her tired face. “But, if you should fear what others might think…simply keep practicing. I sometimes falter in my performances too- a knife thrown too carelessly, a free-fall where I misjudged the distance- but we mustn't stop trying. The same goes for your drawing. We needn't rush...but we must try, lest we stay still and static forever."
His teeth gleamed, looking just a little sharper in the light of the moon peering through her window. "And if work is proving too...bothersome, I could always steal you away from it. Lock you somewhere deep and safe. Then you could write and draw all day with no irritating humans to tire you out."
She laughed, tucking her face much too close to his chin and making fireworks explode in his bloodstream. His hands shook, grasping her hips as he breathed out unevenly.
“Very funny. Alright. I’ll…try,” she said, so quietly he almost missed it under the drumming of his wild heartbeat. “And Pierrot?”
“Y-yes, my love, my star?”
He felt her smile against the vulnerable skin of his exposed throat. “Thanks.”
Checking to see if you're still breathing (The Freak Circus)
you know when your pet is REALLY sleepin and they're so still you like. just gotta watch them for a minute? yeah that.
i know they can canonically HEAR your heart beating but its not as funny
----------------------------
Pierrot's a worrier obviously. You're asleep in his tent, peaceful, while he quietly works on his own stuff. Maybe you're having a dream or something that makes your breath hitch for a minute. It catches his attention, and he waits for you to breathe out again. Then he's SPRINTING to the bedside. He's on the bed so fast it wakes you up, and you're stuck in his hold wondering why he's blubbering at 4 in the morning. Subsequent freak outs result in you waking up right away, either because he was panicking (loudly) to himself or he actively woke you up.
Harlequin watches you sleep anyway, when you're with him and he isn't busy. It's the only time he lets himself indulge in his desires freely. He'll be sitting next to you, claws in your hair as he idly watches something on his phone. When you don't move or shift for a while, he'll glance over and check in. His eyes lock on your chest (or back) and watch for that subtle rise and fall. If he can't see it clearly, he'll check for your breath by placing his hand near your mouth. Once he's satisfied, he goes back to his phone and lightly scratching your scalp. Rarely would you wake up during these little impulsive checks.
Doctor rarely gets the "are they breathing" thought because he already checks your pulse periodically throughout the night. But sometimes he'll be wrapped up in his research, listening to the bed shift or your soft breathing. If you get TOO quiet, he'll snap to attention. Wouldn't hesitate to come over and press his fingers to your wrist or neck. If you have something like sleep apnea and it causes your breath to hitch or stutter, he'd move you to a new position himself. If you wake up during his checks, he'd simply say he was checking your heart rate to compare to a previous nights' data. If you request to be held til you fell asleep again, he'd oblige.
Ticket Taker wouldn't baby you or observe you the entire night, idly checking in as he worked or cleaned. He can be deathly silent even while cleaning, so he'd pick up on the fact he couldn't hear you breathing. He wouldn't check right away- everyone gets quiet from time to time. But the longer it stretched on, the worse his stomach would twist. He'd finally come over, pulling the blanket back to see your chest rise. It'd probably wake you up, seeing him standing over you with the blanket in his grip. He'd simply drop it back onto you and go back to what he was doing before. He'd try to hide the creeping panic whenever he'd check on you, and avoid any questions.
Jester doesn't sit there and watch you sleep, but he uses your sleeping self almost like background music as he reads. He'd be propped up against his pillows, your back touching his side. On his more affectionate days he'd trail his claws along your arm or card them through your hair. If he realizes that he can't hear you breathing, he shuts his book to turn his attention to you. He'd place a hand directly over your chest, feeling the slow movement. He'd huff, annoyed that you interrupted his book like you did it on purpose. You wouldn't wake up at all. Or at least not remember if you did.
MC asks one of the troupe for a massage (Plus ranking)
Pierrot:
Very excited when asked!
“My most beloved wants me to touch aid them? Of course! What do you need me to do, dearest?”
Discusses what you want done, plus an in-depth conversation on where is ok and where it’s not to touch you (If he listens depends entirely on how worked up he gets when touching you).
Do you want him to use lotions and oil? If yes, will go all out on scents and smells unless you specify an allergy.
He insists you can be nude for these sessions; he’ll be on his best behavior! He promises! :D
You know better and remain clothed when you can.
Has to wear gloves (claws are too sharp).
Very relaxing.
However, you have to constantly insist for him to add more pressure.
He's always worried he is going to hurt you, so he always reverts to a lighter massage in the end.
Pierrot can go a long time, but tends to get carried away (he can’t help it) 2hr max on massages.
This will become a weekly ritual for you both…
7/10 Stars
Harlequin:
Thinks you're flirting with him.
“Ah~ Kitten, are you that desperate for me to touch you?”
Oh, you're being serious? Ok then.
Has no fucking clue what he’s doing.
Kind of feels like he's just kneading your body like a cat, very aggressively...
You have to stop him multiple times because he is massaging too roughly.
Eventually, you stop him and show him on his own back what you need done (This takes an hour).
He gets it (Eventually).
Tries multiple times to get his tentacles involved (You always swat them away).
Either gets bored or super touchy, and the massage ends at 30 min max.
Will go longer if you need a massage due to pain, but any longer than an hour and his hands cramp up.
He winds up being the one to constantly ask for massages now.
Will only do a ‘tit for tat’ massage session. You do his back, and then he’ll do yours.
Happens every other week for you both now.
4/10 Stars 10/10 Hearts - Harlequin <3
Ticket Taker:
Biggest head-canon for him is that he’s an absolute GOD at massages. So good that they are their own currency in the circus. Well, just for the troupe that is.
Like he gives out legitimate laminated vouchers for them, which everyone treats like gold. They barter with them all the time. They have rules and everything. How you got one? Well…
“Where did you get that? Who gave that to you?”
Oh, Harlequin…
Does not want to know what you had to do to get that voucher.
Rules are rules, so he clears a few hours for you the next day.
There is a literal massage table in his tent when you arrive.
There are lit candles/incense and soft music playing.
He offers you headphones as well incase you prefer them.
You are stripped and placed on the table on your stomach.
Within minutes, you are a puddle of goo.
This man’s hands are a form of magic, and he knows how to use the fuck out of them.
His claws are much shorter than the rest of the troupes so he is not wearing gloves.
Can put the strength into it too, so if you need a muscle kink worked out? Done.
Uses oils and lotions galore, and they're always nice and warm when applied.
Massages last at MINIMUM of 3-4 hours (that’s why these need to be planned ahead of time.
Man is always giving full body massages as they are his specialty.
You leave that tent so light-headed and fuzzy you barely remember your own name.
You now know why the "Bilheteiro Back Rub" is so sought after.
You immediately start forming a plan on how to get another voucher.
10/10 Stars
Doctor:
“Ah! Sweetie, of course! Are you experiencing any specific aches and pains, or is this for… pleasure?”
More than willing to provide as it’s his duty as your doctor (and mate).
Very clinical, so don’t expect candles or oils.
Does use a muscle-relaxing lotion and numbing cream, though (Your gunna need it, trust me)
Deep tissue style massages are his specialty, but switches to a more gentle style when asked.
Very intense 3-hour massages that feels good in the moment.
However, after every massage, you will be very, very sore (Strong man with very strong hands)
4 days of recovery and no heavy lifting, no excess energy use. (Doctor’s orders)
Don’t worry, Doctor is actively pampering you while you recover.
After the recovery period, though? You feel fantastic! Like a whole new person.
Looser and more nimble than before.
Kinda freaky when you think about it.
You only get these from him once a month due to the intensity.
8/10 Stars
Jester:
It depends entirely on how close you are to him.
Just met?
“Absolutely not” will hit you with a sneer and just leave the conversation.
“Never bring this up again”
Kinda icked out by the thought tbh.
Acquaintances?
Still a no, but not as aggressive.
“I’m sure Pierrot would be more than willing to provide aid, as would the Doctor.”
Stern redirection, but not rude.
Friendly/Close?
Will agree but won’t do it himself (It’s a touch thing with him).
Sends you away with a fool who provides a pretty decent massage.
Together/Mates?
Only time he ever agrees and does it himself (Actually insists on being the only one who can touch you).
Sets aside time from his schedule to do it (might even leave in the middle of a task to help)
Much like Ticket Taker, his massages are in-depth and fantastic at getting kinks out.
Uses specialty oils/lotions he keeps just for you (He’ll deny it if you bring it up).
His massages are almost sensual in a way, but it usually is due to the nature of your relationship.
No gloves, but he keeps his claws trimmed for you.
In fact, prefers you both be fully nude for these massages (not in a sexual way but because of the closeness it provides).
These massages would be a daily occurrence if his schedule allowed for it.
I believe requests are open, and I would just like to ask like TFC x reader who has to stop by the hospital often. For example I have few things wrong with my bones (sadly💔) and I have to go back to make sure my ribcage isn’t slowly getting even more crooked then it is. Feel free to skip, hope you have a good day/night ^^
Thank you for your order, our chef greatly appreciates it and wants to give you the best experience; the appetizer will be divided into five parts to your desire.
We appreciate you dining in Lucid's Reserve today.
Please take a seat and enjoy your appetizer, dear guest; enjoy ♡.
Pierrot
Let's be fair, this man stated that he can and will be anything you want. Pierrot would be more careful with than he already is prior to knowing you have Syncope. At first he would somewhat baby you and tell you to not do things for your safety but you didn't like that. You're still your own person despite being like this and you don't want to be held back.
Pierrot would make sure you're always okay that being making silent observations on your physical wellbeing. If he sees you jerk a little bit or looks sweaty then he'd ask you if you're okay.
If you take frequent trips to the hospital he'd accompany everytime under a disguise. It comes to a point that even your doctor recognizes him as friend of yours. Pierrot keeps an emergency contact of said doctor if he notices anything before you do. He would also ask The Doctor about your condition and advice on what to do.
When there comes a time where you suddenly feel weak or pass out it's okay because he's there to catch you. Or if he's not there it's either your boss or sadly Harlequin. Pierrot and Harlequin would make up or be civil for your safety.
Harlequin
Harlequin noticed that you always seemed energetic. It was like the sun incarnated into a person. He always questioned how you seem so happy. Then he found out you have Diabetes, something he wasn't supposed to witness in your words. You were too engrossed with work that you forgot to eat some of your hourly candy that you almost collapsed. Thankfully your boss was there and took over 30 minutes of your shift until you can get back on track again.
Now he takes the responsibility of reminding you about your candy. Either by popping up at the café or even texting you. He wouldn't admit it but seeing the way your face looked weak made him upset. You'd teach him how to check your blood sugar so that you don't have to do it alone. Now it became a routine for him to stop by your place or at the café before your shift to check on your blood sugar.
When you need to go to the hospital he comes along in a disguise as well. One time your usual doctor wasn't working that day and you got assigned to a different one. That doctor tried to sell you some medicine you don't need which made Harlequin angry. Don't ask how he knew it was the wrong medicine.
He may or may not have asked Doctor about the medicine you can and cannot drink.
He would carry around candy in his pockets despite not liking them. They're reserved just for you.
Jester
You have scoliosis and despite being an adult it's still an annoyance. Just because you're an adult now and that your bones have matured doesn't mean there won't be pain. It's becoming a pain recently to the point you can't even sit in chairs that don't have cushions. Luckily for you, you just bought a lumbar cushion online and been carrying it around ever since.
Since Jester is a man of control he'd make sure your posture is always upright and presentable. He would put his hand on your back to remind you to sit or stand up properly. It's also for your benefit. Even though your spinal bones have matured there's still a chance for it to start curving again if you keep slouching.
Jester would talk to you and ask you if you would consider not working for the cafe anymore, not because he's controlling but moreso concerned. When he asked The Doctor insight about scoliosis he found out that it can still worsen throughout adulthood. There's no denying of the fact that you'd be carrying around heavy trays of food or drinks, or carrying coffee beans, and even being on your feet the whole day.
He'd also suggest getting a gurdle or corset for you to wear in case he isn't around. This is to ensure your posture is just right. If you're going to the doctor he doesn't accompany you, he respects your need for independence and would rather hear your thoughts about your check up from you directly. He doesn't mind you going to the doctors. If anything he hopes that when you come back there's at least some improvement on your back.
Ticket Taker
Having Allergic Rhinitis is such a pain. Its bascially like everyday is a battlefield for you. The weather suddenly changes from hot to cold? You're getting colds and allergies for the next 4 days whether you like it or not. It comes to a point where you have to buy at least 12 tablets of your medicine at the end of every week to ensure you never run out.
Ticket Taker, The gentleman he is; always carries a hankerchief with him and spare tablets of your meds. At first he was quite disgusted by the fact you keeep sneezing a lot. Until he saw how much it was deeply affecting you and so he adjusted. Made sure to find out what the temperature is hours before your shift to inform you. Giving advice if you should wear a jacket or not. He also carries a face mask just in case your allergies go really crazy.
He would accompany you to the hospital in his human disguise. Not to ensure your safety but he knows there's a chance you can get an allergy attack in the hospital. Ironic as it is for a sanitary place to trigger that some hospitals don't regulary dust off which triggers the allery attack. That happened once and he was very upset at the staff. He takes mental notes during the checkup while the Doctor checks on you.
He's also a man of discipline. So that being said he will pop up in your mirror before you leave the apartment to remind you to drink your medicine. Sometimes you don't even realize you ran out of your meds but he already took care of that and refilled your supply.
The Doctor
Why would you go to the Hospital when you have him? Is the first question he asked you when you told him you were going to the hospital for a checkup. Living with Iron Deficiency Anemia ain't for the weak, always being tired and sometimes experiencing delayed menstrual period. Days where your blood is flowing and some where there's barely any blood. It's a pain really.
He would remind you to take your meds before eating breakfast and gets very upset when you forget to do so. There's also meal plans every week. Whether you like it or not you're gonna be eating food rich in iron even if it doesn't taste that good. Doctor will keep track of your period. If he sees that you're on track then good! If your period is later than he expected well congratulations you're eating shellfish for at least a few days to get your iron up again. When it your period comes early it usually becomes a battlefield for you to which he greatly assists.
He may be jealous that you have a doctor but he can't say anything about it, because let's be real here. They're not staying in your town forever. He can't always be the one medicating you if they're gonna leave at some point. That's why he's been teaching you what to do when that time comes. He doesn't come with you to the doctor of course. Why would he?
He would research and be in touch if there's any new Iron meds in the market. He would bet to himself to see if he can guess the medicine your doctor is gonna prescribe you when you get back.
Just a fun little game is all.
We hope you enjoyed your appetizer today, dear guest. Please come again for the main course or dessert ♡.
The Freak circus fanfic:Why you can't have caffeine…
Notes:Okay this is supposed to be like a funny bit but it's headcanon for almost all MCs, Y/ns, and most of my OCs in my aus... that they can't have caffeine because they get so hyper when they drink too much caffeine it's physically hard for them stop moving afterwards and you drinked Ticket Taker's extra caffeinated coffee by mistake...gender neutral by the way. WARNING:Jester thinks the Coffee you drank was drugged Reader X Pierrot and Jester X Ticket Taker
You were making hot chocolate for yourself at 6:35 am because of the temperature was dropping below 50° F degrees, TicketTaker was making his morning coffee. It looked like Ticket Taker did another all nighter despite both of you and Jester telling him to go to sleep. Jester had to carry Ticket Taker to his bed half asleep. You know he needs to do work but no one will blame him if he took a quick power nap."I'll do a little bit of his work today.." you thought to yourself.
Shoot, forget the marshmallows...You left your mug for a few minutes and Jester calls Ticket Taker over to talk to him..."Ticket Taker...You can rest you know...you don't have to do all of it by yourself..." Jester said with a worried expression. "I can handle it, Jester. Don't trouble yourself with that...I'm stronger than I look." Ticket Taker said.Meanwhile Harlequin sees a chance to prank you...You said you couldn't have coffee or caffeine in general because it makes you SUPER hyper...He wants to see what would happen if you had ALOT of caffeine in your system...So Harlequin switch your hot chocolate with Ticket Taker's extra caffeinated coffee also put in choco powder so you couldn't taste the difference..."This is going to be fun..." He said with a grin.
You come back with the marshmallows and put them in the mug and start to drink it. You feel the caffeine kicked in and you start to shake or some would even say vibrate. "Dear one, are you okay?" Harlequin asked you as if he didn't know what he did...You start giggling like a mad man. "HELL YEAH! I HAVEN'T FELT THIS ENERGIZE IN A LONG TIME! HARLIE YOU WANNA GO FOR A RUN!?" You started jumping up and down a kid in a candy shop.
Jester and Ticket Taker hears you yelling excitedly in the other room "The hell is going on?" Jester asked Harlequin to play innocent and pretend he didn't just swap the drinks "I don't know, they drank their Hot chocolate and now they're all hyper." Harlequin said.Yeah, Ticket Taker is NOT buying it; he goes to the mug you drank out of and sniffs it. "This is my caffeine coffee...Harlequin you switched the mugs didn't you?" Ticket Taker asked. Harlequin was busted for switching the drinks...And that's when you started to get the zoomies...
You ran out of the room in a flash..You did a few chores here and there. Mostly cleaning something...But the circus members are concerned because you're STILL running a round at noon.."Y/n, Y/n can you try to hold still for a minute please?" Jester asked you.You tried to keep still but you're still shaking from the caffeine..."Okay that's it DOCTOR!!!" Jester shouts. "No no no-! Not The Doctor please!" You begged. "No, we need to get that caffeine out of your systems..." Jester said. Despite your pleas Jester got The Doctor to take a look at you.
"Jester, how long has this been going on for?" The Doctor asked "Since 6:35." Jester responded. The Doctor sighed. You're barely keeping still in the chair Doctor had to strap you down...You're not sure what injection Doctor is getting. Health was your worst subject...You don't think you're supposed to anyways...
Doctor got the syringe and injected you with it."Ow-!" You wince. "Sorry I know you aren't a fan of needles." The doctor said "Heh, I don't think ANYONE should and if they're weird." You said feeling a bit tired...Doctor and Jester chuckles at your statement then you blacked out.
Synopsis: MC gets caught, lost in their music while closing the café
Tags: mdni, soft, fluff, silly, sfw, suggestive (it's Harley what do you expect?)
W.C.: 2.3k
Inspired by these videos
ITZY - LOCO
Rafayel | Ignited Echoes
It was late, the café was empty and the last customer left nearly half an hour ago. MC had been alone for closing shift again, watching as the colors of the sunset faded to a starry night sky through the windows until they could flip the sign on the door to ‘closed’.
They took a moment, going through their phone for music to set up a playlist, needing something to help keep them awake through the quiet part of the night after a long day dealing with the general public. Nothing out of the norm, but the colder the days and evenings became, the more people that came in seeking a warm drink.
As music played through the café speakers, MC was going through the motions of cleaning and closing everything out. It almost felt like being on autopilot, every movement, every task, familiar enough to allow them to zone out and let the music be their guide. It started with a gentle hum carried under the the sound of the overhead speakers, then turning into counting the cash drawer to the beat. While they were wiping down tables, there was a small sway in their hips and bobbing their head, singing the words aloud with confidence to fill the empty atmosphere.
It was nice, getting lost in their own head like this. Little by little they were waking up more to just enjoying themself as the chores went down one by one.
Putting the chairs up it was finally time to sweep before they were home free for the night. Distracted only by this thought, they started to sweep up any loose debris on the floor, bouncing around more as the next song came on, completely unaware of the glowing green eyes watching from the store window, a smirk growing beneath his mask.
Feeling excitement build as the chorus began to play, MC couldn't help but start doing the choreography they had been practicing at home, dropping their broom in favor of this. Being completely absorbed in the moment, they never heard the bell on the door jingle as a man entered the store, watching MC's movements with their back turned to him for only a few seconds with a mischievous glint in his eyes before jumping in to join, matching their movements and using it as a chance to get his claws on them.
There was a clear jump and yelp from the barista, muscles tensed but the man behind them smirked as he pulled MC to him, keeping the dance going as they frantically tried to see who was behind them. The familiar sight of green eyes under black, heart shaped curls put them back at ease even with their face completely red from embarrassment.
It was almost hypnotic, the way they synced up their movements, almost as if they had always done this together or even at all. They were able to read each other's movements with the green eyed menace taking the lead. Every time MC pulled away, even for just a second, clawed hands were already reaching out to pull them back to him, to have them as close as their clothes would allow.
As the song came to an end, MC wrapped in his arms, hands between them against his chest, they stayed there to catch their breath. Staring up into those vibrant eyes that gleamed with mirth, they finally dropped their gaze as a worn out laugh escaped them, shaking their head.
“Harlequin! You scared the hell out of me!” They scolded without a lot of bite behind it, clearly having had fun as they ended with a laugh. They could tell there was a smirk under the black mask that hid his mouth as he held on just a little tighter, MC's hands pulling his mask down to his chin just to see his face.
“Oh but don't you just love the way your heart skips, dear one? I know I do.” His tone was teasing, wrapping around them with amusement for getting such reactions from them.
Sighing as their breath began to settle, they bowed their head to rest their forehead against the Harlequin's chest, pouting a bit at his words. Heart starting to beat at a normal rhythm again, they felt the calm start to wash over them. “Well now I'm more awake than I should be this late.”
“If you want, I'm sure I could think of a few ways to tire y-” Harlequin stopped with wide eyes as a finger was pressed to his lips, a flustered face with stern eyes staring back up at him.
“Nope, not right now. I'm almost done closing up and I don't want to hear what you're imagining right now.”
With a raised brow at these words, he couldn't help but pause at such a delightfully pitiful expression. Opening his mouth, a green forked tongue emerged, wrapping around the digit and never once breaking their gaze even as MC shrieked, face turning a bright red.
They pulled back and Harlequin relented, flicking his tongue at them and loosening his grip as a chuckle escaped him. A clawed hand went to pull his mask back up as MC was wiping their hand off on their pants, a wicked grin now hidden as he listened to their heart speed up again. “Dearest, what I imagine about you isn't limited to just right now~”
The human was glowering at him, but the blush that hadn't come down told another story. “Stop.” They whined a bit. “Give me five minutes, and then we can go, okay?”
The performer hummed in satisfaction for every reaction he had managed to pull from them already, complying with them for now.
Putting away the broom and grabbing their stuff from the back room, MC returned to the front, bundled up for the cold night air. The Harlequin was the first to step out, waiting rather patiently for the other to lock and double check the doors before they could leave for MC's apartment.
Playfully, the performer gave a slight bow and offered his arm, a knowing look in his eyes as they accepted the offer, basically holding it hostage as they hugged onto his arm. It amazed and amused him how clingy they could be at times, knowing what he was. Feeling safer with a monster that lurked in the shadows than alone. It wasn't exclusively on the human either; the carefully crafted walls he'd built up were cracking.
Harlequin had started to seek them out for more than just a game, recently. To lay his gaze upon them put him at ease for some reason, as if seeing them solidified they were real, they were present, they were safe. He craved to be in their presence, to have their attention solely on him, to see their eyes hopefully looking back at him with just as much need to be with him. To see them squirm when he flirts and teases to see their face go a beautiful shade of red while trying to return the sentiments.
He'd begun to do just this, bringing up the little number they performed at the cafe. “You knew I was coming to see you, why are you so embarrassed, dear one? It's almost like you were begging for me to watch.” He was being a menace, but that was nothing new.
MC began to rub circles around the back of Harlequin's hand with their thumb, barely meeting his gaze. “Shush, I just got swept up in the moment. And what about you?” Their tone almost sounded accusing, adorable.
“Hmm? What about me?”
“Just- just coming in and taking the lead like that? I didn't even know you could dance!” they exclaimed in both bewilderment and amazement. “Where did you learn that?”
A low chuckle left him, his free hand up to the mask as if to cover his mouth. “We travel all over the world, darling. What, did you think that circus acts are all we know?”
“Well no, but the only one I've seen before is Pierrot.” The mention of the red clad clown caused Harlequin to tense up for just a split second. “And his was more… majestic? In a hypnotizing kind of way.” he rolled his eyes at this, not wanting to hear praise for the other performer. Their attention should be on him, only him. Why do they need to be talking about Pier-
“Yours was more breathtaking, sensual.” MC had cut off his train of thoughts, their gaze down on the sidewalk as they continued. “You made it really easy to follow your lead without having to overthink it.” he watched them, almost stunned for a moment at their words.
Automatically he takes their words and changes the sentiment behind them. Pulling his arm from their grasp, they looked up at him with a mixed look of confusion and hurt until that same arm wrapped around their shoulder, pulling MC into his side. Leaning down, his mask brushing against their ear. “If you want something that will take your breath away, dear one, I'd be more than happy to oblige you.”
“Can you take anything seriously?” They puffed their cheeks, refusing to turn and meet his gaze but he felt the heat coming off their face, making him chuckle lightly, not pulling himself away.
The teasing continued all the way to their apartment door when they finally pulled his arm from around them, a contemplative look on their face. He stepped back a moment as they unlocked the door and took a theatrical bow to the human as the door opened, taking the previous look as one of how to tell him good night. They had made it clear they didn't seem interested tonight. “Until next time, then.” He announced, feeling their eyes on him as he stood back up.
Turning to leave, a hand quickly reached out and grabbed his wrist with a small tug. “You didn't want to come in?”
He raised a brow at those words, confusion in his eyes. “I was under the impression that you were not in the mood to play. Change your mind?”
“Just… get in here.” MC huffed, tugging his arm to bring him into their home, locking up behind them. Removing their coat and hanging it up and heading to the kitchen with the menace in tow. “You want anything to eat or drink?”
As they stopped at the counter they took out their phone, connecting to the blue tooth speaker on the counter when hands wrapped around MC from behind making them gasp, claws going just under their shirt and gently scraping against the skin of their stomach, just enough to leave sharp red marks but not breaking skin.
“Are you being willfully ignorant, or trying to tease me, dear one? We both know how that ends for you.” his voice was low, his mask brushing against their neck.
With a soft breath MC put their hands over Harlequins, their touch gentle and not at all what the clown was expecting. Music began to play softly in the room, slower than what was playing in the café and despite the position they were in, Harlequin could feel MC relaxing against him, taking the chance of his loosened grip to turn around and face him.
Their hands trailed up his torso to his hidden pointy ears and removed the mask to set it on the counter behind them. The Harlequin looked frozen at all the sweet and gentle touches, the human taking his face to bring down to theirs for a chaste kiss, and it only made him feel more conflicted.
Bringing their hands down his shoulders, arms, they finally took his larger hands in theirs, one being guided to their hip, the other held with care. “You wanted to show off earlier, too shy to show me what else you know?” They hummed, finally getting to tease him back a little for earlier.
A low rumble made its way through his chest until a laugh escaped him, sharp teeth glinting in the light as a sly smile made its way across his features. “That's what all this was about?” It was relieving, hearing him let out a genuine laugh, seeing him loosen up after seeming lost since he came in the door.
Taking the opportunity to make the first move, they fell into the music once more at Harlequin's lead, every move feeling like they were gliding across the floor. “Be careful what you wish for, dearest.” His voice a sultry purr as he dipped MC back, taking in every expression they made. They stared up at him from this held position, completely at his mercy, with nothing but wonder and adoration in their eyes. “I may give you more than you can handle.” A mischievous glint in his eyes as he spoke.
A moment of quiet before a smile came across the human's face alongside that sweet blush that kept showing up tonight. “Then I guess we'll just have to see if I can keep up.” They laughed a bit as they were pulled back up, suddenly having it stifled as lips met their own, the kiss slow but hungry for them.
They let out a sigh as he pulled away to kiss their jawline, his thumbs rubbing small circles at their hips. “Mmm, can't you give me a few more dances before we get there? Are you in that much of a rush to leave for the night?” They asked quietly as they rested their head against his chest, gripping at the sleeveless hoodie as if to keep him there with them.
Harlequin didn't stop the small gestures but took a moment to think of how to respond. He listened to their tone, almost begging him to stay; listened to the way their heart beat seemed to match his own. Closing his eyes to rest his head overtop MC's, he took a deep breath, a mixed scent of their shampoo and the café invading his senses. “I suppose there's no need to rush anything tonight.” He finally whispered, holding them close as they swayed to the soft music.
Synopsis: MC gets caught, lost in their music while closing the café
Tags: mdni, soft, fluff, silly, sfw, suggestive (it's Harley what do you expect?)
W.C.: 2.3k
Inspired by these videos
ITZY - LOCO
Rafayel | Ignited Echoes
It was late, the café was empty and the last customer left nearly half an hour ago. MC had been alone for closing shift again, watching as the colors of the sunset faded to a starry night sky through the windows until they could flip the sign on the door to ‘closed’.
They took a moment, going through their phone for music to set up a playlist, needing something to help keep them awake through the quiet part of the night after a long day dealing with the general public. Nothing out of the norm, but the colder the days and evenings became, the more people that came in seeking a warm drink.
As music played through the café speakers, MC was going through the motions of cleaning and closing everything out. It almost felt like being on autopilot, every movement, every task, familiar enough to allow them to zone out and let the music be their guide. It started with a gentle hum carried under the the sound of the overhead speakers, then turning into counting the cash drawer to the beat. While they were wiping down tables, there was a small sway in their hips and bobbing their head, singing the words aloud with confidence to fill the empty atmosphere.
It was nice, getting lost in their own head like this. Little by little they were waking up more to just enjoying themself as the chores went down one by one.
Putting the chairs up it was finally time to sweep before they were home free for the night. Distracted only by this thought, they started to sweep up any loose debris on the floor, bouncing around more as the next song came on, completely unaware of the glowing green eyes watching from the store window, a smirk growing beneath his mask.
Feeling excitement build as the chorus began to play, MC couldn't help but start doing the choreography they had been practicing at home, dropping their broom in favor of this. Being completely absorbed in the moment, they never heard the bell on the door jingle as a man entered the store, watching MC's movements with their back turned to him for only a few seconds with a mischievous glint in his eyes before jumping in to join, matching their movements and using it as a chance to get his claws on them.
There was a clear jump and yelp from the barista, muscles tensed but the man behind them smirked as he pulled MC to him, keeping the dance going as they frantically tried to see who was behind them. The familiar sight of green eyes under black, heart shaped curls put them back at ease even with their face completely red from embarrassment.
It was almost hypnotic, the way they synced up their movements, almost as if they had always done this together or even at all. They were able to read each other's movements with the green eyed menace taking the lead. Every time MC pulled away, even for just a second, clawed hands were already reaching out to pull them back to him, to have them as close as their clothes would allow.
As the song came to an end, MC wrapped in his arms, hands between them against his chest, they stayed there to catch their breath. Staring up into those vibrant eyes that gleamed with mirth, they finally dropped their gaze as a worn out laugh escaped them, shaking their head.
“Harlequin! You scared the hell out of me!” They scolded without a lot of bite behind it, clearly having had fun as they ended with a laugh. They could tell there was a smirk under the black mask that hid his mouth as he held on just a little tighter, MC's hands pulling his mask down to his chin just to see his face.
“Oh but don't you just love the way your heart skips, dear one? I know I do.” His tone was teasing, wrapping around them with amusement for getting such reactions from them.
Sighing as their breath began to settle, they bowed their head to rest their forehead against the Harlequin's chest, pouting a bit at his words. Heart starting to beat at a normal rhythm again, they felt the calm start to wash over them. “Well now I'm more awake than I should be this late.”
“If you want, I'm sure I could think of a few ways to tire y-” Harlequin stopped with wide eyes as a finger was pressed to his lips, a flustered face with stern eyes staring back up at him.
“Nope, not right now. I'm almost done closing up and I don't want to hear what you're imagining right now.”
With a raised brow at these words, he couldn't help but pause at such a delightfully pitiful expression. Opening his mouth, a green forked tongue emerged, wrapping around the digit and never once breaking their gaze even as MC shrieked, face turning a bright red.
They pulled back and Harlequin relented, flicking his tongue at them and loosening his grip as a chuckle escaped him. A clawed hand went to pull his mask back up as MC was wiping their hand off on their pants, a wicked grin now hidden as he listened to their heart speed up again. “Dearest, what I imagine about you isn't limited to just right now~”
The human was glowering at him, but the blush that hadn't come down told another story. “Stop.” They whined a bit. “Give me five minutes, and then we can go, okay?”
The performer hummed in satisfaction for every reaction he had managed to pull from them already, complying with them for now.
Putting away the broom and grabbing their stuff from the back room, MC returned to the front, bundled up for the cold night air. The Harlequin was the first to step out, waiting rather patiently for the other to lock and double check the doors before they could leave for MC's apartment.
Playfully, the performer gave a slight bow and offered his arm, a knowing look in his eyes as they accepted the offer, basically holding it hostage as they hugged onto his arm. It amazed and amused him how clingy they could be at times, knowing what he was. Feeling safer with a monster that lurked in the shadows than alone. It wasn't exclusively on the human either; the carefully crafted walls he'd built up were cracking.
Harlequin had started to seek them out for more than just a game, recently. To lay his gaze upon them put him at ease for some reason, as if seeing them solidified they were real, they were present, they were safe. He craved to be in their presence, to have their attention solely on him, to see their eyes hopefully looking back at him with just as much need to be with him. To see them squirm when he flirts and teases to see their face go a beautiful shade of red while trying to return the sentiments.
He'd begun to do just this, bringing up the little number they performed at the cafe. “You knew I was coming to see you, why are you so embarrassed, dear one? It's almost like you were begging for me to watch.” He was being a menace, but that was nothing new.
MC began to rub circles around the back of Harlequin's hand with their thumb, barely meeting his gaze. “Shush, I just got swept up in the moment. And what about you?” Their tone almost sounded accusing, adorable.
“Hmm? What about me?”
“Just- just coming in and taking the lead like that? I didn't even know you could dance!” they exclaimed in both bewilderment and amazement. “Where did you learn that?”
A low chuckle left him, his free hand up to the mask as if to cover his mouth. “We travel all over the world, darling. What, did you think that circus acts are all we know?”
“Well no, but the only one I've seen before is Pierrot.” The mention of the red clad clown caused Harlequin to tense up for just a split second. “And his was more… majestic? In a hypnotizing kind of way.” he rolled his eyes at this, not wanting to hear praise for the other performer. Their attention should be on him, only him. Why do they need to be talking about Pier-
“Yours was more breathtaking, sensual.” MC had cut off his train of thoughts, their gaze down on the sidewalk as they continued. “You made it really easy to follow your lead without having to overthink it.” he watched them, almost stunned for a moment at their words.
Automatically he takes their words and changes the sentiment behind them. Pulling his arm from their grasp, they looked up at him with a mixed look of confusion and hurt until that same arm wrapped around their shoulder, pulling MC into his side. Leaning down, his mask brushing against their ear. “If you want something that will take your breath away, dear one, I'd be more than happy to oblige you.”
“Can you take anything seriously?” They puffed their cheeks, refusing to turn and meet his gaze but he felt the heat coming off their face, making him chuckle lightly, not pulling himself away.
The teasing continued all the way to their apartment door when they finally pulled his arm from around them, a contemplative look on their face. He stepped back a moment as they unlocked the door and took a theatrical bow to the human as the door opened, taking the previous look as one of how to tell him good night. They had made it clear they didn't seem interested tonight. “Until next time, then.” He announced, feeling their eyes on him as he stood back up.
Turning to leave, a hand quickly reached out and grabbed his wrist with a small tug. “You didn't want to come in?”
He raised a brow at those words, confusion in his eyes. “I was under the impression that you were not in the mood to play. Change your mind?”
“Just… get in here.” MC huffed, tugging his arm to bring him into their home, locking up behind them. Removing their coat and hanging it up and heading to the kitchen with the menace in tow. “You want anything to eat or drink?”
As they stopped at the counter they took out their phone, connecting to the blue tooth speaker on the counter when hands wrapped around MC from behind making them gasp, claws going just under their shirt and gently scraping against the skin of their stomach, just enough to leave sharp red marks but not breaking skin.
“Are you being willfully ignorant, or trying to tease me, dear one? We both know how that ends for you.” his voice was low, his mask brushing against their neck.
With a soft breath MC put their hands over Harlequins, their touch gentle and not at all what the clown was expecting. Music began to play softly in the room, slower than what was playing in the café and despite the position they were in, Harlequin could feel MC relaxing against him, taking the chance of his loosened grip to turn around and face him.
Their hands trailed up his torso to his hidden pointy ears and removed the mask to set it on the counter behind them. The Harlequin looked frozen at all the sweet and gentle touches, the human taking his face to bring down to theirs for a chaste kiss, and it only made him feel more conflicted.
Bringing their hands down his shoulders, arms, they finally took his larger hands in theirs, one being guided to their hip, the other held with care. “You wanted to show off earlier, too shy to show me what else you know?” They hummed, finally getting to tease him back a little for earlier.
A low rumble made its way through his chest until a laugh escaped him, sharp teeth glinting in the light as a sly smile made its way across his features. “That's what all this was about?” It was relieving, hearing him let out a genuine laugh, seeing him loosen up after seeming lost since he came in the door.
Taking the opportunity to make the first move, they fell into the music once more at Harlequin's lead, every move feeling like they were gliding across the floor. “Be careful what you wish for, dearest.” His voice a sultry purr as he dipped MC back, taking in every expression they made. They stared up at him from this held position, completely at his mercy, with nothing but wonder and adoration in their eyes. “I may give you more than you can handle.” A mischievous glint in his eyes as he spoke.
A moment of quiet before a smile came across the human's face alongside that sweet blush that kept showing up tonight. “Then I guess we'll just have to see if I can keep up.” They laughed a bit as they were pulled back up, suddenly having it stifled as lips met their own, the kiss slow but hungry for them.
They let out a sigh as he pulled away to kiss their jawline, his thumbs rubbing small circles at their hips. “Mmm, can't you give me a few more dances before we get there? Are you in that much of a rush to leave for the night?” They asked quietly as they rested their head against his chest, gripping at the sleeveless hoodie as if to keep him there with them.
Harlequin didn't stop the small gestures but took a moment to think of how to respond. He listened to their tone, almost begging him to stay; listened to the way their heart beat seemed to match his own. Closing his eyes to rest his head overtop MC's, he took a deep breath, a mixed scent of their shampoo and the café invading his senses. “I suppose there's no need to rush anything tonight.” He finally whispered, holding them close as they swayed to the soft music.
(pt. 2!) in what scenario do the circo members make you cry, and how do they comfort you?
"you aren't easy, great / i think i like that, stay / no, let me chase you, my little breakthrough"
tags and warnings: ticket taker x gn!reader, jester x gn!reader, and doctor x gn!reader. part two of this prompt, part one includes pierrot and harlequin. individual scenarios for each member with specific cws for each one below. i'm still a yapper. more character studies, but i deeply apologize if you find anyone to be ooc! i'd say i'm still learning these sweethearts and how to write them :3 fluff and hurt/comfort. i reread this whole thing over and over foor like two weeks because i really care about it but forgive me for any typos 💔
total wc: 12.6k (4.3k ticket taker, 6.1k jester, 2.2k doctor)
𖦹 TICKET TAKER
cw: themes of people-pleasing, overthinking, insecurities, anxiety, and self-deprecation. mc is ticket taker's assistant. not incredibly important, but mc's first meeting with ticket taker is intentionally a little different from canon.
ticket taker doesn’t like to guess. he won’t ask you what's wrong over and over, but he's also not a mind reader. he'd only get more frustrated if you refused to tell him what's wrong, so he finds other ways to comfort you. while it may initially seem cold that he barely acknowledges your tears or asks what happened, he doesn’t leave you, despite the disruption to his schedule. he stays. he's there to listen and give you his full attention when you do open up, and he never gets angry. he’s willing to get his hands dirty for you— don't you realize? he'll choose to take the time out of his day to stay with you. there’s no better way for him to show that he cares.
you’re very good at predicting.
well... was it predicting, or just thinking?
thinking thinking thinking through every single scenario, having a plan for a situation three decisions out, that's all reliant on a single yes to the question you're about to ask. and if the person says no? well, you've already thought five steps ahead in that case, too.
that's what you were good at. not necessarily predicting, maybe, but being overly prepared for whatever might come your way so that no one, nothing, could ever catch you off guard.
sure, it could be a little tiring, but the method had yet to ever fail you. you scored a job at a café, among other achievements. and making coffee often seemed to require multiple backup plans. because when an angry customer comes storming back in arguing, "no, i don't want a refund. i just want to yell at you—" it pays off to have alternative solutions that will get them out of your face as quickly as possible.
something else your skillful thinking has led to? you had recently been entrusted with a chunk of paperwork belonging to the most organized, detail-oriented, vigilant person you had ever met, who was also nothing short of terrifying.
compared to his expansive knowledge, you would probably describe yourself as an insignificant speck of dust; mindless, blind, and worthless in contrast to his dominating presence. yet he still accepted your help, so surely that meant you had to be doing something right.
you felt like you were in a battle of wits anytime you interacted with him. your eyes searched his face, looking for anything that might reveal a little more about his ulterior motives— you listened and studied every word he said, in what tone, trying to test if he was testing your intelligence. and that all happened in a matter of seconds before you conjured up a response that you prayed was acceptable.
for example, your first meeting with him:
"i can take those papers for you. i'm recycling them, anyway. what a shame to litter such papers around an establishment, right?"
he had been dressed in his usual attire, his dark royal blue uniform with the gold trims and that half black, half white mask. you could guess reasonably easily who he was. you looked down at the papers in your hand, the words THE FREAK CIRCUS staring up at you before you lifted your head back up to him. the papers definitely belonged to him. obviously.
which led to the dilemma: objectively, he was correct. it was wrong to litter, and it's rude to leave trash behind in a public space. however, they were his papers, and you weren't about to insult them to his face and call them trash that had been littered on your premises. maybe you should say "it's fine! the café is all for promoting other businesses! totally!" but what if the real test was your opinion on littering and respecting property?
yeah, maybe you sometimes overthought things sometimes. maybe.
but you had to when it came to him. because there was a difference between your wits. between him and you.
he was confident. he stood tall, and he knew just about everything there was to know. he had no need to test you, no need to play these silly mind games with you. he already knew where he stood, and it was above you.
it was pointless to question him, yet you still witnessed multiple people do it every night. they would always march right up to the gates of the circus and demand attention. they would go on and on about how they deserved to be treated differently because they were "better than the rest."
but pair that with the man who was actually better than them, and it was like watching a small dog bark at the mailman. the mailman doesn't care about the dog; he knows it can do no harm, yet the small dog still thinks it's in control. some visitors towered over ticket taker, trying to intimidate him, but he never took a single step back. he never moved a muscle, and if that didn't immediately make them realize the situation they were in, the doctor appeared. it wasn't that ticket taker was weak or needed backup, it was yet another calculated move: a "since you think things can be resolved with fists, allow me to stoop down to your level."
you, on the other hand? you were just insecure. you've built up these walls of "wit" to hide the fact that you're scared of not knowing. ticket taker was everything you wish you were. he knew the answer to everything, knew just what to say to anyone. you couldn't do that. you have to create entire matrices of situational answers and pray that you say the right thing.
you observe everything, all for the sake of not having to ask someone for clarification. because if you don't understand something immediately, then you're weak.
you observe, you learn, and you predict. 'if ticket taker steps away to help the crying child, i will cover his line for him and punch tickets to maintain the unobstructed flow of business. if he doesn't step away right now, he's clearly relying on me to take care of the child.' it was like thinking before you speak— except you took it a step further. you kept thinking, plotting, and planning until someone spoke. once they said something, then you spoke. you waited until someone else made a move, and only then would you make yours.
the constant thinking only wore you out when it didn't all end at night. you tried to get home as early as you could so that you had time to give your brain a break. it didn't ever fully silence your brain, but when you were all alone, there was no one for your brain to hyperfixate on, trying to understand their very reason for being. if you were out later than usual, or you made a mistake, that was when it all went downhill.
like right now.
one miscalculated step. a singular slip-up that somehow made it past all your double, triple, quadruple look-overs.
you think you’re going to throw up.
but there’s not even anywhere to throw up. no nearby trash can, no nearby exit.
well, more like there's no exit you can get to without risking that you’ll bump into him.
you end up just slumping to the ground, hoping maybe it’ll just swallow you whole and you'll disappear. but it doesn’t. and now you’re starting to shake.
you’re scared.
despite all your differences in wit and how low you put yourself compared to him, you like to think you share a few similarities with ticket taker. you're both perfectionists, organized as if your very lives depend on it. any number, object, color, letter, whatever it may be— anything that can be made into a list has been, either by your hands or his. you've enjoyed working with him— with a brain so similar to yours.
you could only hope he shared some semblance of appreciation for your partnership. as embarrassing as it was to admit, you had been giddy the past few days, just imagining that he was pleased with you. you brought yourself to the brink of exhaustion every day, working from the early hours of the morning until the evening on whatever tasks he trusted you to do. last week, on your way out, he nodded in your direction and said, "good work. see you tomorrow, dear."
his words were short, probably just said out of practiced mannerisms, yet they reached your heart in a way no one's praise ever had. you tossed around in your bed all night, kicking your feet and balling up in your blankets. your heart was in a frenzy, and your face hot. you replayed the words he said in your head over and over; the way he said them, how he looked when he turned in your direction— you barely slept that night.
but that didn't even matter. you were so motivated by the possibility of him praising you again that you felt reenergized every day, always ready to return to the circus and plow through more work.
that was until today.
today, you’ve misplaced a paper.
in the weeks that you’d worked with him, you had never seen him make even the slightest mistake. of course he hadn’t— he was literally the definition of perfection. and you had been good; you hadn’t made a mistake either. until now.
and you’re not sure what to do if a paper is missing. maybe you should have just swallowed your pride and asked a stupid question when it was still justifiable because you were new. but you were too confident in yourself, too sure you would be able to figure out those problems on your own later— and now you’re here.
your lip trembles. the back of your head aches so heavily with stress you think you might pass out. you feel sick.
you don’t want this to end. you don’t want to disappoint him. “please,” you beg, hoping that maybe if you say it out loud, someone, something, will realize how desperate you are. that you're still something good despite your imperfections. “i want to keep working. i’ll do a good job. please, help me find this paper.”
if you mess this up, it’s over. ticket taker will realize he made a severe lapse in judgment by ever considering letting you work here. any value he previously saw in you will immediately be thrown out the window, and all that will be left is the human that was there from the start: useless. good for nothing. flawed.
the pile of papers you brought into his tent is next to you on the floor. you spread them out like a fan, looking through each individual sheet, but it’s not there. it’s just one document that’s missing, but he’ll notice. you know he will, and it’s your fault. tears well up in your eyes, but you’re quick to wipe them away before they can fall and ruin the papers you have in your hands, too.
maybe i can hide somewhere, you think. you were supposed to meet ticket taker in his tent to give him your papers before you left for the day. he would be here any moment now. but maybe if you hid, you could avoid him. not anywhere too far, in case you ran into him— just somewhere nearby. when he left to look for you, you would make a run for it.
and then what? your mind chides. you're not sure. maybe you'll think of an excuse once you have a clear head. or you'll beg on your knees and swear on your life so many times ticket taker will let this mistake slide, just this one time.
time.
you’re running out of time.
you file your stack of papers back into a neat pile, keeping them close to your chest while running quickly to a nearby wooden crate near one of the tent walls. tears spill from your eyes, and you breathe in deeply, trying to expel your panic.
but it’s not working well.
you kneel behind the crate, hiding your body from sight. your worries seem to multiply in the dark shadows, though, and you're too busy trying to keep your eyes dry to notice anything else.
you were supposed to meet with him two minutes ago.
he taps his foot.
he didn’t take you for the kind to be late. you've shown up earlier than he expected for the past two weeks, and you’ve been so obedient to everything he's asked thus far. he concludes that either you’ve disappeared after finding something unsettling about the circus, or something’s wrong.
he sighs, checking the time again. it’s an inconvenience— there’s no denying it. what should have been a quick and easy exchange has now taken up more precious time than he planned for, throwing off his entire schedule.
yet he still begins to look for you. he doesn’t know why. any other person, he would've moved on. he would have quickly redone any of the work he'd assigned his assistant so as to not get farther behind and save figuring out what misfortune had befallen them for when he cared enough to check, which was typically never.
he had stopped trying to reason with himself a long time ago when it came to anything having to do with you. he just seemed to keep coming back to you without meaning to. he didn’t mean to keep you around for as long as he did, but you’d proven yourself useful. he tells himself that's why he's allowed you to stay to make himself feel better, but it's not working.
and he doesn't appreciate how difficult you're making this right now. you listen so well, you're always so eager to please him, so where could you possibly be?
his connection to his tent is… useful. useful for surveying any visitor that walks in, useful in how quickly he can move between each reflective surface. and his office inside the tent is private; impossible for any mere visitor to just stumble upon. they already get lost enough in their own reflection— the chances are nearly zero that they'll ever make it any farther.
you did enter the tent, he notes. but you never exited, according to the mirrors. he knows you’re smart enough that you aren't lost inside the tent anywhere— you've been around him long enough to know his tent. yet he still double-checks every corner of the maze for his own sake. he doesn't find you, but he does pick up a single paper. it was one of the documents he gave you, but there's no trail of other scattered papers or clues. so where could you have gone?
then he sees you.
when he walks into his office, you're in a corner where you probably think you’re hidden. you knew to hide away from any mirrors, at least, but not good enough to hide from him.
he approaches you quietly, careful not to make a sound. you haven’t noticed him, yet. you’re too busy wiping away your tears, pressing your sleeves to your eyes in an attempt to stop them all at once. you let out a quiet sniffle as you open your eyes, and when you see him, you nearly hit your head on the crate behind you when you reel back in shock, eyes wide.
“ah! ticket taker– um, here are the papers. i'm sorry. you– oh, but–” you’re a mess, scrambling for words. you extend your hand out to him with your pile of papers, and then suddenly you're retracting your arm back, eyes averted.
he takes the papers from your hands despite your protests and drops them on top of the crate you’re against. “excellent,” he ignores your exclaims, “now, why are you hiding in the corner of my tent?”
you freeze at the question, desperately wishing you could disappear and escape the weight of his gaze. "i... um..." you try to answer him– you really do. but when you think about the missing paper, the words get caught in your throat. there are tears in your eyes again despite your best attempts to stop them, and you cover your mouth with a hand, turning away from him. you choke back a sob, but the smallest noise still escapes your throat, humiliating you even more.
he's still watching you. he'll only have more questions now that you're crying again. or maybe he won't. maybe he'll just tell you to leave, that he doesn't have time to deal with a crying mess. the one thing you're sure of is that it's over for you. this is it.
he waits for you to respond. elaborate. anything. but the only thing you do is tremble, and you’re refusing to look at him. he hesitates, but then he crouches down to your level. “dear,” he says, and the name makes you freeze for a second.
you’re scared– absolutely terrified. you’re not sure why he calls you dear. you’ve done nothing deserving of the name, nothing to be of value to him, yet he’s called you that since you first met. you squeeze your eyes shut, letting the last tears fall, wiping them quickly before you turn back to him. your lips are downturned, still trembling as if you’re about to completely break down. your eyes are watery, but you’re doing your best not to cry in front of him— again.
“keep your eyes on me, dear,” he orders, and you nod. “good. now, what has you on the ground like this?” he asks.
“i’m sorry,” you whisper, averting your eyes.
“i said look at me. do i need to hold you down?” his words immediately make you look back to him.
you shake your head silently, trying to keep your eyes on him this time. he continues, “then don’t keep me waiting. please, explain. i can’t help you if i don’t know what’s wrong, sweetheart.”
you don’t want to look away from him so instead, you look at the smaller details on him; the small tufts of hair coming out from underneath his hat, his flawless mask, perfectly split down the middle half black, half white, and then his eye again. “i don’t know,” you start out. “i’m on the floor because i was trying to hide. i’m sorry i missed our meeting.”
your apology reminds him that he hasn’t looked at a clock in a while. how long has it been since you were supposed to meet him now? he could check the watch in his pocket, but he doesn't. he keeps his gaze on you. “it’s in the past. nothing to be done about it now,” he sighs. you may have thrown off his entire schedule, but he was the one who decided to come find you, and you can't be blamed for that. the delays are nothing he can’t recover from anyway, assuming that you'll assist him in catching back up. but he'll have to deal with what's bothering you first. “i’m here now, though. i found you. so, what could you possibly have been hiding from? in my tent, of all places?
"i wasn't hiding from something... i was hiding from you. i was scared." your answer makes his head tilt as he waits for you to elaborate. "i lost one of the papers you gave me. i knew you were going to be mad, and i hid. i messed up your papers and your schedule, i'm sorry. i— i know i don't have the right to say anything else, but i really wish i could make this up to you— i'll do anything. i was scared because i don't want to go. i want to keep working with you, but i'm sure i've made you really upset..." you can't help but look away at the end. it was too overwhelming to be so transparent with him, admitting fault to something you were ashamed of while looking him in the eye. you feel
his gaze remains on you as you look at the ground— it never once falters. he watches your every move; every nervous fidget and the way your chest falls when you breathe out in short hiccups, still recovering from your tears. he counts every time you blink rapidly, trying to hold back more from spilling. "...if there's anything i can do to make it up to you, i swear i'll do it. i know it's silly, thinking i even have the right to ask for your forgiveness— yet i still can't help but try."
you’re right, he thinks. it’s silly of you to promise him things you can’t do. you can't swear on everything when you don't even know what "everything" entails. there isn’t much you can do for him besides continue to beg him to forgive you right now, but there’s a reason he’s kept you around this long.
he never bothers with the whereabouts of missing assistants, never enjoys dealing with the ones that cry, yet he’s here with you. he's waited this long for you to explain the problem to him. can’t you see that? if he were angry, he wouldn’t have bothered staying here for even a second longer; he doesn't ever bother with protecting anyone's feelings. “you’re a fool,” he says, breaking the silence that fell over both of you.
you head drops in shame. you feel as if you're breathless and hyperventilating all at the same time— maybe you are really dying, right here, in this moment.
but then you feel something on your head. is he… petting you…? you feel something drape over your shoulders as well, and look to your side to see a familiar blue jacket, with the golden edging that always catches your attention. his hand continues to rub the top of your head as you look up at him, lips parted in slight shock.
“you worry too much. and here i thought i was the overthinker, hum~ jester makes fun of it all the time. i’ll have to tell him about this,” he seems to be thinking to himself before he looks back down at you. “stand up, my dear.” he helps you stand on your feet before placing his hands on your shoulders, keeping his coat in place.
he guides you to sit in the chair at his nearby desk, and you let him move you around, still confused. “you’re... not mad?” you gather the courage to ask, although your voice is still quiet. his hands place a warm mug in your hand before he straightens, remaining standing at your side. there's a freshly brewed tea inside the mug, and the steam curls up to your face, clearing your nose.
“hum, you’re funny, my dear. you worry over nothing. the paper you ‘lost’ was on the ground. i picked it up while searching for you. it was nothing serious. i could have made another copy of it.” his answer makes your face turn red, realizing how worked up you got about such a small mistake. “you… have value to me, my dear.” he pauses between his words, realizing how wrong they sound. they’re true— he means it, but they're too deep for his comfort. it was more direct than he intended. “you proved it to me before. that’s why i let you assist me. your worth to me would not diminish with such a small, single mistake. if such accidents ended in termination, no one in this circus would be here, including me. i’m a little worried, dear, that you thought so little of me. i don’t trust people easily. you simply earned it."
you blink at him, surprised. you’re not sure you’ve ever heard so many words from him at once. “ah, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to–”
“it’s alright.” he doesn’t let you finish, looking away. he takes off his hat momentarily, running his hands through his hair to fix it. he's always been so put together, maintaining a stable, clean, and perfect image. you've never seen him do anything as simple as move a piece of hair away from his mask.
“it seems i’ll have to… teach you more about myself, i suppose. it will help us work together better. although–” he looks back at you. “it seems you need to relearn yourself, as well, dear one. shall i help you with that as well? you’re obedient, and you take accountability for your actions. that’s more than i can say of any past assistant. but you don’t seem to recognize anything valuable about yourself. you diminish yourself easily– as soon as one thing goes wrong, you think it’s the end.”
he waits for you to answer, but you’re still trying to mull over his words in your head. you feel awkward, under his gaze, listening to him explain how he sees you. he reads you like an open book, while you didn’t even realize you were a book to be read in the first place. “i... you’re right. i’ll be better about not... self-deprecating. thank you.” you look into the mug in your hands again, watching the tea bag float aimlessly inside. “i think it would help for us to learn more about each other; thank you for giving me this second chance. i apologize, i made this such a big thing. and the paper was right in front of me the whole time.” you catch yourself before you say anything deprecating about yourself out of habit, fearing retaliation from the man behind you. "i'll communicate the mistake next time."
“nothing to apologize for, sweetheart,” he answers, observing the buttons of his sleeves, “the time will be made up for eventually. although we have a lot of papers to get through, dearest, more so because of this mishap. i hope you’re ready.”
“right…” you say your goodbyes to seeing your bed for the night, “i’ll get started on that.”
✧ JESTER
cw: mc annotates books. bonding over books. themes of insecurity and self-deprecation. mentions of columbina and mc being a little like her :3 err i'm really not sure what happened this just kept getting longer and longer every time i tried to edit jester's section. but i would say that it's just a lot of talking back and forth. like a domestic deep talk with jester which i (at least) would find very comforting to turn my brain off and just read about jester's thought process. lots of character study in this one </3
when he makes you cry, jester won’t apologize in words. like ticket taker, his approach might make it seem like he doesn't care at first, but it's only because actions show that he cares much better than words ever could. he makes you come closer to him when you try to hide your tears from him. he does it to show you you're worthy enough to be by his side. he'll distract you with a story about him, something he usually only reserves for those he finds worthy, because you are worth it. he comforts you in a way that shows you he cares about you, even if he never says it.
"don't close off, don't suffer by yourself." he's here for you.
you’re used to how the circus works by this point.
you know your place, and you’re content with it. they’ve taken a liking to you and allowed you to wander in and out of the circus as you please. you're allowed your own life outside of the circus, but the moment you step into the circus, into their home, you're theirs.
pierrot will grab you to test a new recipe he's tried out. then harlequin wants your attention, and ticket taker says he's willing to let you assist him with his paperwork. the doctor insists he needs you for an experiment only you can help him with—
and the last circus member? somehow you always wind up with him by the end of the day, even if he doesn't get to you first.
he's patient; he'll let one of the other members drag you around until he decides you're his. and once he's shown up to grab you, pierrot will have to say his goodbyes. until tomorrow— if he's lucky. but jester will decide when he's done with you, not anyone else.
your time with him is... strange. that's the best way you can put it. while the other members always have some sort of activity they reel you into, jester doesn't make you do anything. just has you sit with him in his tent. and talk.
it was nerve-wracking at first, being alone with him. no one was there to save you from his watchful eyes, or answer a question so you didn't have to. his questions were sometimes simple, but sometimes a little more invasive. it made you worry that you were eventually going to disappoint him with your answers.
some days, he asked for your opinion; what were your thoughts on a city they had travelled to before, and had you visited it yourself in the past? he was discussing with ticket taker whether they should purchase something new for their family, and what did you think? harlequin wanted a motorcycle (terrible idea, out of the question), and pierrot was banned from driving, so anything vehicle-related was off the table, but he was open to all other suggestions. you couldn't imagine what value your opinion possibly had in such important matters, but all you could do was hope to satisfy him with honesty.
other days, all you talked about was books. the first time you walked into his tent, past the main stage where you initially watched him perform, you were shocked to see his expansive collection of books. they were kept in towering stacks of old wooden crates, which he explained made them easier to transport as they travelled.
the rest of his tent was quite cozy; there were several comfortable chairs scattered about inside. there was one near his books, one at his desk for him, one next to it, mainly reserved for when ticket taker came with stacks of paper to talk him through each individual one, and another for you on the opposite side of the desk if you so desired. but it was intimidating to sit so close to him, so you usually opted for the last chair, which was just a few feet from being right in front of the desk.
he kept the tent dimly lit, lanterns hung sparsely from the top in a loose circle around the center. it kept the middle of the tent well illuminated, but the closer you got to the wall, the more you noticed the shadows that flickered with the flames inside each lamp. the lighting put a focus on the desk in the middle of the tent where he always sat, watching you from wherever you chose to sit.
if he had no specific question for you when you were brought to his tent, your typical routine was to update him on what book you were reading. sometimes you brought it with you, and sometimes he somehow had an exact copy of the book you were referencing. he mentioned briefly that harlequin had once bought him an entire crate of random books from a used bookstore as a gift, and while some of the books had been good, or alright, others... he only made it as far as reading the back cover before he put it down. no matter the book, on these days, you would both sit in silence save for the sound of pages turning from your individual books.
you don't mind the talking, or if it's silent. whatever happened each day, you found yourself looking forward to it, waiting for him to undoubtedly show up any time you were with one of the other circus members. jester had been hard to read, obviously. you still didn't understand in the slightest why he paid you any attention. but at the very least, the time spent with him had given you the opportunity to learn more about him.
sometimes he told you stories, similar to the ones he performed about monsters every night, but without all the actors. he would sigh, disappointed, saying the story was always better on stage with the blood and costumes. but this sufficed too— just him. and you.
other days, your conversations were two-sided and endless; you both bounced ideas and comments off of each other all day long. you wouldn't ever consider either of you extremely talkative, but he seemed to be bringing out a side of you that you didn't realize you had, and maybe you did the same for him.
the circus— his circus had quickly become a second home to you. and not just the members of the circus, the place itself was a comfort, too. wandering around the tents at night with the warm string lights hung between like stars that were just out of reach— and the music that played quietly above the bustle of the crowds of people you passed seemed to heal something inside you. maybe it was the joy that filled the air and the magic of the circus— you hadn't visited a place like this since you were a kid. but now you were older, actively choosing to be here rather than being brought here by your family or friends. you knew the world wasn't pure or kind like you thought it was when you were younger, yet this place still remained untouched by adulthood. the circus was still alluring, charming, and bright, taking visitors away from the worries of their everyday lives and to an entirely new world.
if it was before business hours and you visited earlier in the day, the time you spent with the circus members still had the same sense of magic and comfort. they were who you went to when you wanted a distraction or someone to talk to.
pierrot was the easiest to speak to, unsurprisingly. he was extremely good at listening to you, and his idea of comfort came in the form of compliments and hugs. he always took your side and rather than trying to find a solution to your problems, just let you talk while he nodded and urged you to keep going. listening was all you needed; you would figure out the problem on your own. but pierrot's approach was different from a certain purple-haired man who would certainly have no trouble telling you that you were wrong.
you feared that if you ever tried to be this vulnerable with jester, he would end up judging you, seeing your problems as minuscule, or not anything worthy of being called a problem at all. and he had the right to perceive your problems as such with how much he— all of them had been through. when you first met pierrot, he was being ridiculed and attacked for looking strange. he was blamed for the disappearances around town without any proof, and that hostility was something the circus dealt with everywhere they went. and it was fine if jester couldn't empathize with you; you weren't expecting him to. you could always talk to pierrot instead, anyway.
work had been exhausting. you'd been understaffed all week at the café, and today was no exception. it had also been nonstop busy since the time you had opened, and it hadn't let up even when you were leaving for the day. customers just kept pouring in, none of whom seemed to understand that there were only two of you doing your best to survive the onslaught. while not all of them came up to directly complain and demand their drinks or a refund, it was the stares that always bothered you. the dozens of eyes burning into you, scrutinizing your every move, hesitation, and breath, while they waited to eagerly snatch their drink from your hands and finally leave. it added to the nerves you already had, and if you were unlucky enough to accidentally spill something, the crowd of people watching only made it more humiliating.
"on top of all that, one of the customers tried to walk behind the counter. i had to drop everything and fight with him to step back into the lobby," you're retelling everything to pierrot, who nods eagerly with a frown, opening his arms wide to offer you a hug that you gratefully accept.
"my star, you could have called me. i would have come immediately to take care of the man. you never deserve to be treated like that." his eyes are filled with worry, and he keeps his arms secure around you, one hand rubbing your back. he was the first person you ran to as soon as you made it to the circus, and he could tell that something was wrong as soon as you opened the flap of his tent. your shift at work had ended hours ago, yet you still looked just as totally worn out as when you had left.
"hm~ i could have spilled a coffee or two on the man, that would've gotten rid of him real quick. don't call that red dog next time, little one. what would he do? he can't even talk," harlequin laughs, appearing from a dark corner, scaring both you and pierrot. he approaches quickly, leaning in to stop just inches away from your face, "you'd be much better off calling me, pretty thing. i assure you, i could protect you~"
the side glare pierrot gives harlequin is deadly, and your eyes dart between the two, not daring to say anything. pierrot gives you one last squeeze before he lifts you up, sitting you back on the ground and placing himself between you and his green counterpart. you cover your mouth with a hand in shock as he tackles harlequin to the ground. there are exclaims of pain and violent jingles of bells as the two roll around on the ground, and pierrot's saying "stay away from them! you—"
everything goes quiet, and harlequin and pierrot both freeze mid-punch, looking at the entrance to the tent. you turn around slowly to see what they're looking at, and ice-cold shivers run down your back when you see him. the look on jester's face is darker than the look pierrot gave harlequin just moments ago. when you turn back to the two boys in question, they're both on their knees, hands neatly placed in their laps, ready to beg for forgiveness.
jester's eyes trail to you, and you roll your lips into your mouth, not daring to breathe. you get the feeling you should move into the same position as the other two, pleading to be forgiven for being a bystander.
it's silent in the tent for a moment; no one moves a muscle, and not even the wind dares to blow. then, jester breaks the silence. "[name]. my tent. now."
"right. understood. going." your answer is incoherent, but you move to your feet nonetheless, immediately following orders. you hesitate for a moment, looking back when you reach the tent entrance. harlequin blinks at you rapidly as if you're in any position to help him, and you can only give him an apologetic look before turning to pierrot, who's already looking up to the sky, accepting his fate.
jester turns to you with a terrifying smile on his mask. the hand he puts on your back is brief as he guides you out of the tent with a small push. "i'll see you shortly, little mouse. keep walking."
you close your eyes as you walk away from the tent, mourning the souls about to be lost.
jester's tent is the same as always. the shadows that dance along the walls of his tent catch your eye as you sit down.
today, you forego any of the chairs in the tent for a wooden crate several feet from his desk. it puts you in a position so that you're ready to escape if your doom is coming next after harlequin and pierrot's. it's naïve to think you could ever escape him, no matter how much distance you put between you both— but at least you'll be out of arm's reach if you sit here.
you hear the bells before you see him. sunlight from outside briefly floods the tent as he enters, but it's extinguished just as quickly as it appeared when the flap of the tent entrance falls back into place behind him. your eyes follow him as he walks to his desk, lowering himself into his chair, sitting with one leg crossed over the other, resting on his knee.
"you... wanted to see me?" you start nervously, biting your lip.
he sighs, closing his eyes. his hands reach up to massage his neck. "yes. start with explaining what those two were fighting about just now."
your mouth goes dry. will you be getting them in more or less trouble, depending on how much you say? or are they past the point of saving? "oh! ...that? i assure you it was nothing big. pierrot was mad because harlequin came out of nowhere. i was just talking to pierrot about my day. i had a few rude customers, and he was comforting me— and then harlequin decided he had something to say, too."
"at your coffee shop?" he inquires, and you nod. "hm~ of course. they don't even handle aggressive customers at the circus well. neither is equipped to comfort you about such a thing. and that is hardly an argument for pierrot to pull a knife on harlequin, that boy."
you hum in thought, "they're nice to offer help, but their ideas of 'help' are... a little vengeful."
"so you agree?" he asks, and your heart stops for a moment. was it a trick question? were you supposed to defend harlequin and pierrot spilling hot coffee on any person that had wronged you?
"y-yes... i think since they are representatives of the circus, they have an image to uphold. it would look bad on the circus if they got into a disagreement with someone about something as trivial as coffee. it really is just coffee. that's all my job is. i can handle a few mean customers. it's nothing worth them risking the image of the circus for. and... they probably would have just made the customers more mad at me, too— if i might selfishly add." you play with your fingers nervously, awaiting his judgement.
"i agree. that was a good way to put it." jester nods, and something inside you flutters. any semblance of praise from him was worth the risk of answering his trick questions. "however, your addition isn't selfish; this is all about you to begin with. while it wouldn't have been good for either of them to go, if you find you require help at any time, you're better off asking bil to come. or me."
your eyes widen at his answer, "really? you would come?" you immediately pinch yourself, embarrassed at how eager you sounded. calming down, you continue, "uhm... it's alright. i was fine, no one was hurt. seriously— nothing is ever going to happen at a coffee shop that's worth the trouble of one of you guys coming. but thank you."
he still seems surprised at your initial exclamation, and you wish you could slap yourself. "i would come, if you asked," he answers with a slight tilt of his head. there's a brief moment of silence as he holds your gaze before you eventually have to avert your eyes, feeling a little shy. he continues on like nothing happened, "you never know what might happen, little mouse. it's better to be overprepared now than to be scrambling for a plan in the moment. if something were to happen, pierrot is typically the one handing out flyers near your work. realistically, it would be best to call him because of his proximity, but as we discussed, it may not have the best outcomes. perhaps if there was a rotation..." he places a hand on his chin, eyes narrowed as he continues to think to himself.
jester has never come to your work— never even mentioned it. while harlequin and pierrot thankfully visit when it's slow and you're at least presentable, it would be just your luck for jester to come in while your skin is covered in syrups and milk has somehow reached your hair. you always thought he just couldn't be bothered to come— why would he? even if he needed to see you for something, he would see you at the circus later, so there was no reason for him to ever stop by your work. but maybe he had never visited, simply because he wasn't in the area. would you come, even if there wasn't a problem? just if i asked? the words die on your tongue.
"well, moving on from that—" he straightens in his chair and your attention is brought back to him. "my original reason for bringing you here; i noticed when you walked through the gates— you look a little ghastly today, dear thing. have you had anything to eat or drink? you're lucky i got to you before doctor did." you rack your mind, trying to rack over anything you could consider an attempt at self-care.
"uhm... i drank a coffee, i think," you answer.
he blinks. "you think?"
"well— i would classify it as water, too, because it was an iced coffee. coffe is... technically made with water and the ice melted because i was too busy to drink it. so i did. i drank coffee and water, if that's better." it was a horrible attempt at making light of your situation, because clearly your point is no, you haven't taken care of yourself, but as soon as you finish speaking, you wish you hadn't said anything at all.
"that's the most foolish thing you've ever said," he shakes his head.
you laugh awkwardly, head hanging low in defeat. it was foolish, you know that. but his words still sting a little. it's nothing to get in your feelings about; you were the one who made up some bullshit excuse. but you're exhausted, and your mind is barely working. would it kill him to act a little concerned if he was going to take the time to ask how you were? if you had told pierrot the same thing, he would have urged you to eat immediately. he'd probably even offer to make you something, not call you foolish.
yes, it was your own fault that you hadn't taken care of yourself, but you didn't necessarily have the time and ability to do so today. but sometimes it was nice to not have to do everything by yourself. that's why you came to the circus; you know you would be in good company. pierrot and harlequin provided you with comfort and a distraction from your feelings, so that you didn't wallow in them by yourself. but if jester was going to ask how you were despite clearly noticing you were not yourself and proceed to not do anything about it, then you would have preferred him to say nothing at all.
"what did your nuisance of a customer do? nothing too terrible, surely. or else i'll ask bil to keep a better eye on you." he's confusing. saying things that make your face warm, and then things that hurt your heart. does he care or not? you barely have the space to think about it; you're too preoccupied worrying about how he's going to react if you tell him what happened. but you do, anyway. you offer up your fragile heart again. because he asked. and you want to tell him. you want comfort. you want him to comfort you.
"it wasn't that big of a deal. i promise, it's nothing ticket taker needs to waste time monitoring." you're off to a great start, already downplaying yourself. but you hope that if you act this way, no matter how jester responds to your answer, at least you'll seem unbothered. "there was a man who was confused about where to order. we were understaffed, no one had taken his order, so he started walking behind the counter. i had to leave my coworker to fight with him a bit to stay out of our area, which just shook me up a bit. although— to be honest, that isn't what bothered me most. it was everyone else in the lobby, just glaring at my coworker and me. i hate when people watch me, even more when they're being intentionally rude about it. that's all."
jester places a finger on his chin again, pondering the situation. "we have people try to enter restricted tents all the time. humans never want to listen, do they? they'll just stare you down if you don't give them exactly what they want."
"yeah... but it's a lot more serious for you guys. you have genuine things you need to keep protected and away from the general public. my situation wasn't that serious. i think i'm just exhausted. i almost didn't go into work today, i wanted to stay home. we've been understaffed all week. it's just been rough for me." you weren't trying to lie or oversell the importance of the circus; it was just undeniable that it was a much larger business than your little coffee shop.
"alright. if that's the case, then why are you even here?"
jester's response makes your heart drop. what's that supposed to mean? you want to ask, but it's pretty clear what he's trying to say. you're here because you wanted to talk to pierrot, and to see him, like you do every day, because it brings you comfort. but if he didn't want you here, he should've left you alone with pierrot. and if he doesn't want you here at all, then you'll leave.
you take in a deep breath, blinking a few times. you feel the tears well up in your eyes and you bite your lip, willing them not to fall. you're not sure when they started, right after he asked the question, or when you came to your own conclusion to leave. despite your wishes, one still slips out, running down your cheek. you turn your head slightly to the side, hoping to hide the tear from the man in front of you. you don't wipe the tear away when it falls down to your jaw, you let it fall somewhere on your shirt.
it doesn't matter what you hope for, because that's all it is— a prayer, a wish for something to happen. and rarely does anything go the way you want it to. jester's vision in the dark is remarkably clear. he's noted everything about your body language; your eyes became glassy before the tears you're trying so desperately to hide began to fall. they reflect the embers of the nearby lamp you've chosen to look at instead of him. you tensed the moment he asked the question you have yet to respond to, and you turned your body slightly away from him. the first sign that something was wrong was in the beginning, the moment he entered the tent: your knees were already angled towards the exit, rather than towards his desk— towards him.
"you're crying," he observes, but he doesn't make any move to comfort you.
"i'm not crying," you respond, keeping your voice as steady as possible. you push yourself off the crate, turning to leave.
"why are you lying to me when i can clearly see tears running down your face?" you let out a deep sigh, squeezing your eyes shut. more tears escape your eyes, as he's been so kind to point out.
you open them again, looking directly at him. "i'm not crying."
only a human would be strange enough to deny the obvious. you deny him with such a fire in your eyes, and for what? he clearly sees the truth, and he's not going to ignore your tears just because you say you're not crying. he has a heart, believe it or not.
books have always been the easiest way to get inside someone's head as an outsider. humans and monsters alike all have different perspectives; no two people have the same view. they may be similar, but never identical. what shapes a person's mind is the experiences unique to them: the habits and memories passed down from their parents, what they choose to surround themselves with, what challenges the forces of nature throw at them— they all combine together to develop these unique psyches.
he's read thousands of books throughout his lifetime, and somehow he still has yet to understand what goes on inside your head in moments like these.
"come here." it's an order, but he doesn't say it sternly. just points to the chair next to him. he talks to you levelly because he knows you'll listen.
you don't know why you obey. you grab at the fabric of your pants in tight fists as you sit, trying to will yourself to stop crying. you hold your breath until your lungs burn, bite your lip until it bleeds, pinch yourself until it doesn't sting anymore, but none of it stops your tears and the small sobs that accompany them.
then there's a feeling on your head that makes you freeze. slender fingers comb through the back of your hair to your scalp, running back through the strands over and over. you turn your head slightly, keeping his hand on your head as you look at him in confusion.
his face is neutral as he stares back. "pierrot does this to me sometimes. he likes my hair. used to play with it until he grew his own out to be as long as mine." you try to imagine pierrot behind jester, doing something similar to the way jester plays with your hair now. you didn't even realize pierrot had long hair, besides his strands in the front. "he keeps most of it tucked in his hat after sustaining an injury." he seems to read your mind. he stays silent for a second, and you close your eyes, leaning into the gentle touch of his hand. it was nice to hear something new about pierrot and jester, something to take your mind off everything that had happened today. and you don't remember the last time someone ever took the time to touch you like this.
"drink this," he slides a cup across his desk, placing it in front of you. it's a steaming cup of tea, and another one identical to your own is to the right of him. you didn't even notice when he poured it. "you'll get a headache if you keep crying when you haven't drunk anything today." you nod, taking the cup between your hands, sipping from it hesitantly. but it's the perfect temperature to your surprise; the warm liquid soothes your throat without being too hot to hurt you.
"you thought i meant for you to leave. that you weren't wanted here, didn't you?"
you look up from the tea back at him. "is that... not what you meant?" you ask, your voice cracking from your previous cries.
"no, dear. you said you wanted to stay home today. my question was why you were here, instead of your home," he explains, and your cheeks warm, embarrassed.
"i'm sorry i took it the wrong way," you apologize. "i think... the circus is just so comforting to me. like a second home. i didn't even consider going to my home when i got off work, i wanted to come here immediately and be with you— and everyone else, of course—" you stutter at the end, only getting more flushed. but when you meet his eyes again, there's a small smile on his face you don't think you've ever seen before. he stops running his hand through your hair to ruffle it slightly for a moment before returning to combing through it.
"pierrot would be pleased to know that. as am i," he responds. he seems to hesitate before speaking again, "dear one, you are... welcome here. if you wish to stay here instead of your own home for the night, i'll allow it." you blink at him in surprise, taken aback by his offer. "you don't have to give me an answer now, little mouse. it's just an option. think about it for a moment while i tell you something else." his hand stills on your head, and your eyes follow his other arm as he reaches for the desk drawer next to him. sliding it open, he pulls out a book, placing it on the desk.
your eyes widen when you recognize it. "is that... mine? is that the book i gave you?"
he nods, flipping through the pages. "it is. how long ago was that? i've been meaning to return it." it was one of the first books you had ever talked with him about. one day you brought it in as an offering and although he said it wasn't a book he would typically read, he still took it without a word. you never knew if he had actually read it or not.
you wait for him to continue. would he tell you what he thought of the book? was it good or bad? "you annotate your books. it was interesting to me," he says, and your face goes red. it had completely slipped your mind that while reading the book, you had highlighted and scribbled all over the pages before handing it over to jester a few months after. "writing is ambiguous; good authors don't spell out every little explanation and reaction— it's left up to interpretation. this book you gave me— it itself was fine, but i found reading your annotations far more interesting. i learned more about you through your scattered notes about how you understood the book."
you can't even begin to think about what you probably wrote inside those pages, and it's hard to imagine what jester may have thought the first time he saw your scribbles. "jester?" you say his name, and he hums in response, looking from the book back at you. "why do you care so much about what i have to say? why waste time reading something as silly as my annotations? you have countless smarter people around you than me, like ticket taker. what use am i to you when he can give you the correct answer to anything, circus-related or not?"
his fingers begin to mindlessly play with your hair again as he answers, "i do ask him for his opinions. i trust him with everything. but i've... grown to begin to trust you. your annotations proved to me that your kindness was not a fake front. and don't take that the wrong way— i have a family to protect. i don't trust many, and certainly not easily. skepticism is necessary in order to keep them safe. you may not have meant to, but your book and your notes told me everything i needed to know about you to decide if i was going to trust you even a bit or not." you nod to his words, mumbling a small thanks. "while ticket taker might be smarter in some aspects— or all— that's to be expected, given how much he's experienced. it wouldn't be fair of me to compare you to him because of those differences. besides, you offer me something different— a perspective we cannot always understand: the human rationale."
you tilt your head slightly in confusion, and he looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to speak, "but my perspective— or rationale, whatever you want to call it, is inferior to your own. i don't understand why you would want that from me. it's not useful to you." your eyes follow his hand on your book as he runs a thumb along the corner of the pages.
"inferior, maybe, but still useful. take your kindness, for example. you gain nothing in return, yet your first instinct is to still treat others with sympathy. why do you choose not to use force against a man who is so clearly overstepping your boundaries? why would you stand up to an aggressor— why protect one of my own— without knowing anything about us, without expecting a reward for your deeds? your kindness is what separates you from the rest of your town, who is quick to blame my family for anything that will make them feel better about their lives. despite their inferiority," he looks up to the lamps that hang from the roof of the tent. you count them. there are six.
"think of some of the stories i tell you. there was another one of us, once upon a time: the flower." the color pink immediately comes to mind— and then red. you remember the red pool that reached from underneath an actor dressed in pink to across the stage the first time you watched jester perform. "she was kind, almost a little too kind. none of us could understand her at times, and it caused bil a great deal of frustration when he was younger. but her compassion came from a place of purity. she had seen too much cruelty to be innocent, yet despite all she witnessed, she still seemed to see good in everyone. your kindness... is like that. like hers. it's selfless. you give people second chances even when they don't deserve it. you're a rare find, and sometimes still hard to understand, but the more i learn about you, the more i can understand what went on in her head, and in turn what goes on in yours. most humans give up on kindness when they think no one notices— but you, you continue to be kind. even if others are not kind to you, you have never given up on kindness. it's simply who you are." his words recognize something in you that's never been brought to your attention before.
he's noticed and seen you clearly for who you were; your intentions were good, your kindness was second nature, not something you ever really thought about. he mentioned you giving people second chances, but truly, you're the lucky one. he allowed you the opportunity to prove yourself to him and his family, rather than immediately shutting you out. "thank you, jester," you mumble. anything you say back to him will certainly not top the time he's just taken to describe you, but there's still something in your heart that you want to say, "i've learned a lot from you. from this circus you lead. you took a kingdom filled with pain and built it back up to stand proud. you took broken dreams and gave them the chance to be fulfilled again. what you've created is still more than i can wrap my head around, but i'm greatful that you've give me the chance to learn, instead of punishing me for not knowing. thank you."
"hum~ nothing to thank me for, it is simply the truth," he nods, patting your head once more. "should i tell pierrot to account for you when he makes dinner tonight?"
“please.”
✴︎ DOCTOR
cw: actual warnings before a ramble: needles, blood/a blood draw. mc is feeling quite anxious + being poked with a needle isn't helping. touchstarved/lonely mc </3 ramble: i don't want it to seem like i halfassed doctor or reduced him down to medical things because he's so much more than that!!! but i do fear it may come off that way </3 i really don't want it to but i also feel like i'm still learning how to write the doctor and this scenario just fit best in my head as something that would truly happen!
doctor immediately notices when you're upset, but he may not go about it the way others commonly do. to him, solutions are found in cures and results, but that's not what everyone needs. you don't need a cure, you just need comfort. he might need a little bit of guidance, but he’s always willing to try a new approach for you. always for you.
your time spent with the doctor was a little strange, you'll admit it.
there wasn't always a lot of talking, but you liked that. neither of you required words to communicate; enough seemed to be said between blood transfusions, monitoring vitals, the twitches of your body— it all translated to something else:
you trust me enough to let me do this.
i trust you enough to give you myself.
and he wasn't the only one observing during the experiments; you made your own mental notes while he leaned down to secure the straps of your chair. the noises he made to himself when he found something interesting, the tilt of his head when he looked at you, and, of course, the way something new seemed to interest him every day. consequently, you learned something new about him each day as he studied something new.
you visited him every day, interested to find what he had discovered, and he more than welcomed it.
and that wasn't to say you guys didn't speak– you still held plenty of conversations:
“hm, you know it’s not that regular to visit your doctor every day, sweetie.”
“hmm, then you might need to diagnose me, doctor.”
you didn't mind when his experiments ended up hurting you, either. you tried to be a good subject for him. you never flinched or winced when something hurt, although it didn't matter. he was always quick to notice your pain and erase it just as quickly as you felt it. if you were bleeding a little or there was an unexpected side effect, he would patch you up, kiss the bandaged wound, and give you something to get rid of the side effect.
his work was always gentle on you. he never intentionally caused you pain, but sometimes you wondered if the way his fingers grazed your skin was. his touch left chills and shivers running through your body, which he always noted was abnormal, yet he never delved deeper into finding out why. he wrote down every time your heart rate spiked, which happened to be when he smiled, but you were positive he hadn't pieced that together yet.
and that was fine, too. you would take the moments and conversations you could get with him, you would take it all and be thankful for what you had.
you thought you would be able to stay patient that way; stay satisfied and happy with what you already had. but some days, you seemed to crave a little more. you couldn't justify it as loneliness; you were surrounded by people all the time. you interacted with hundreds of faces every day at work and obviously spent nearly the rest of your time with the doctor in his tent. it wasn't loneliness... physically. but maybe emotionally it was. for the longest time, no one had really understood what was going on in your head, and no one ever seemed to care enough to notice something was off.
you didn't want to let it bother you. you hated to demand more from the people around you. even if rationally, talking to them would make you feel better, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. it felt as if you were telling someone they weren't a good enough friend, and that you were selfishly asking them for more. to be more.
you had held conversations with the doctor that were close to satisfying that craving before, such as each of you sharing stories from your childhoods, but you still couldn't gather the courage to say it. you knew exactly what you wanted from him– you wanted to be more than friends. your relationship was abnormal enough as it was; friends certainly did not strap each other to chairs and experiment on one another, but you weren't technically anything more intimate than that. you weren't brave enough to ask for clarification on what you were, so you kept the feeling to yourself, along with everything else plaguing your mind. what scared you more than anything was losing what you already had with him. if you were ever brave enough to tell him something like how much you struggled to get out of bed and he found it off-putting, you would never be able to recover from that.
but today had been a little too much to bear, a little too much to hold inside all to yourself. an draining day of work was a disastrous mix when combined with the loneliness that was already eating away at you. you were tired, but you didn't want to sleep. you wanted to be around someone who made you feel loved. you wanted to be with him.
when you entered his tent, the words almost immediately spill out of you, 'could i have a hug?' but he's ushering you into a chair as soon as he sees you.
"dear one, i've been waiting for you. i have something i want to try out–" he immediately stops everything he's doing, instead looking straight at you and tilting his head. you shift uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze. "something's wrong," he observes, and you avert your eyes. "you aren't well, dear. what happened? i can tell from your breathing–"
that's the part you don't know how to tackle. he does notice when you're feeling down, but not the way you want him to. he thinks he can help you with some kind of physical treatment, like a medicine. but science can't fix you. what you need is a person. you need someone to comfort you and show you love. but how are you supposed to tell him that? if you don't say anything, he's never going to know. and you know he would listen, but you don't know how to ask for it. every time you try, the words get lodged in your throat, caught by the fear of messing up, and you end up missing your chance.
"your eyes, sweetie. you look exhausted. are you getting enough sleep? do you feel well-rested?" he has a finger on your chin, guiding you to look at him.
no. you can barely think. you are exhausted. you're the farthest thing from well-rested. if you're able to fall asleep, you wake up feeling depressed and worse than the prior night. on the nights that you can't fall asleep, you're wrapped in a blanket that provides no warmth or sense of comfort, because nothing can replace the touch of a living person that you so desperately crave. you want it to be him. you want to be held by him. "i'm not sure..." you mumble, averting your eyes to look at the floor instead of him, unable to answer to his face. "maybe."
"you're taking longer to answer, and you're talking slower than normal. i'm worried, dear." he's actually quite good at articulating what he's feeling. if you had to guess, you would say it's because it's easy for him to say something as long as there's a tangible, logical label for it. being "worried" comes with connotations that he doesn't have to explain any further. maybe you could learn something from him and just say the damn words–
"my dear, i want to take a blood sample. your adrenal hormones might give me a better understanding of what's going on. is that alright?" he begins rolling up your sleeve but stops halfway through, waiting for your approval to keep going.
and you nod, because you really do think it'll be alright. you can handle a small needle– he's done this more times than you can count. and if the doctor says so–
oh.
when the needle pierces your skin, you feel sick. it's just a sharp pinch, a tiny piece of metal, but it's like you're feeling every individual layer of skin it's passing through. surely it's your imagination, but it's as if you can feel the blood leaving your vein through the needle, too. you're nauseous and light-headed, and your entire body is going numb. have you eaten anything today? you don't remember. you want to tell him it hurts, but you're scared. you've never told him you were in pain, you never wanted to disappoint him. and he always seemed to notice when to stop, anyway, but he doesn't stop. your heart is beating so loud in your ears you want to cry– how can he not notice?
and why can't you say anything, why can't you just speak up for yourself? why do you shut your eyes and tell yourself you can handle a little more, instead of just asking him to stop?
the sob you cough out as tears fall from your eyes is when everything stops.
he did notice everything. you don't need to say anything for him to notice; he's never needed words to figure out something is wrong– he sees it. his touch usually relaxes you, but today, you've been tense from the moment you entered his tent. your face is always neutral when he draws your blood, but now you're in tears.
he was waiting for you to tell him it was enough, waiting for you to tell him no if you didn't want the blood test. but you didn't, and he kept going, because he thought it would be alright. he thought if he just had this test, he would be able to figure out what was going on, but now he seems to have only made everything worse.
he doesn't need you to tell him something is wrong, per se, but what he does need is a little guidance. he needs you to tell him what to do when something's wrong. and he only needs you to show him one time and then he'll write it down– no, he won't write it down– he'll engrain it into his memory for you. every experiment is a trial and error until he finds the right solution, but he has yet to find the remedy for your pains.
"my dear, you're hurting," is all he can say, because he's unsure of what to do, how to carry out the plan that he needs to. he doesn't know the plan. he doesn't have the information he needs to help you. his words almost seem to cause more harm as you curl up in his chair, your cries muffled by the knees you bring to your chest.
"my sweet... will you tell me what's hurting you?" his question only erupts another sob from you– is he why you're in so much pain?
"...hug– can you hug me, please? will you hug me? please–" before you can finish, you're wrapped in his arms, fully covered by his figure, fully protected. one of his hands is on the back of your head, cradling you into the side of his neck. he's always burning incense in his tent and the smoke must have stuck to his skin because it's all you smell. it's his favorite one, hard to describe because of how unique it is– it's spicy, but also a little sweet, with something earthy amidst the two clashing scents. just like the first time you smelt it, it calms your nerves immediately. you had complimented the fragrance when he first burn it, he had explained to you that it was his favorite, despite how rare it was to come by.
"don't waste that on me, then, doctor. i'm quite calm right now," you had told him. because of you, you thought, but left unsaid.
"that's alright, my dear. nothing i do is ever wasted on you. i wanted to show you the scent, but i'm also burning it because i enjoy it," he answered, continuing his work on your arm. "i'm glad that you like it. it's my favorite."
your heart didn't hurt so bad back then. not like it does now. you clutch his cloak, burying yourself deeper into him. your breathing is still uneven, but you seem to have stopped crying.
"i'm sorry my dear. i hurt you," he apologizes, rubbing your head gently with a hand. "...what can i do for you? i don't want you to be in pain."
you shake your head. "i just needed this," you breathe, "this is all i wanted." you pull away from his cloak to look at him while his hand on your lower back slowly up and down it. "i just wanted to be with you, without an experiment. but i didn't tell you that. i'm really sorry. i had a bad day... and all i wanted to do was hug you and rest with you."
"my dear, i never meant to hurt you or make you feel worse, i'm sorry." he pulls you closer, as if scared that you'll slip out of his grasp at any moment. "i'll take you somewhere else. i've never shown you the garden with all my plants, have i? would you like to go there?" when you nod, he repositions his arms to support your body as he carries you, keeping you close to him.
you lean your head against his chest, and the sound of his heartbeat seems to calm your own. "that sounds nice," you murmur, "i'd like that. wherever i can be. with you."
he presses a small kiss to your head, warming your entire body. "of course, dear. we can go anywhere."
Yet Harlequin kept trying to call you, but you refused to pick up your phone.
He thought at first you were just busy, to be expected with your new job and life. But after the possible 50th more attempted calls in a hour. He had enough.
Texting you questions, demands for answers, but they remained unread, unanswered.
He started to get furious and annoyed. He thought you were purposely ignoring him now. Trying to give a hint you wanted to end what you two had together now, that you regretted continuing the relationship even with miles between you two now.
Finally, the call was answered.
"FINALLY! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LONG I'VE BEEN TRYING TO REACH YOU?!"
There was a pause for a moment, then finally you spoke. "...I'm sorry...I...I would of answered sooner if I could." You sounded weak and low.
Harlequin's anger started to dwindle as he heard your tone. "...Dear one? What's wrong?"
You were silent again, and then he started to pick up on the background sounds from your end...They sounded like those machines Doctor had when he tried to keep track of his patients vitals...or keep them alive...
"...I might of gotten into a dumb accident." You gave a forced laugh, but he could tell instantly you were trying to hold back tears. "I...I'm okay though. But--"
His tone was softer now. "...Dear one? What happened? Tell me exactly what happened and where you're at--"
"It's okay. You can't come over even if you tried I'm sure...Jester won't allow it..."
"Screw what Jester says--!?" In that moment Harlequin had his phone removed from his hand, to see it was Jester who showed up behind him to take it. "GIVE IT BA--"
Jester saw who was calling, then instantly put the call on speaker.
"Continue talking, dearest."
"J-Jester?!"
"Speak."
You started to explain what happened, as Harlequin and Jester silently listened. Harlequin tried to keep his feelings hidden, especially around Jester. But through his eyes alone, you could see the worry in them.
"...You're quite lucky you're not dead then." Jester glanced at Harlequin, then back at the phone. "...Harlequin will be there soon with Ticket Taker. For now just focus on resting and recovering."
"H-he will?!" You said with some hope in your voice again.
"Yes, he will. You're very lucky today actually. We were actually about to leave the country, but we can spend a few more days here preparing before setting off...And after making sure you'll be okay."
Jester's serious expression didn't change as you let out tearful thank yous and more. He only repeated for you to take care of yourself and rest. Then finally left the call to Harlequin.
After you said your goodbye to him, as he promised he'll be there by your side soon, the call finally ended.
"Be sure to pack what you need for a few days of travel. Also do try to not give Bil a headache during it all."
"...Why though?" Harlequin asked as Jester was leaving.
Jester froze in his steps, not looking at Harlequin. "...Human lives are short. Fragile. We both know this. So appreciate what chance and time you can have with them, especially after this incident." Then he continued leaving, while making Harlequin feel mixed feelings now.
He wanted to see you again, especially now after knowing what happened. But same he knew, if--when he saw you again. He may never want to leave your side now.
Can I request anyone of the cast you feel like writing with the reader just like curling up next to them or laying on their chest? Just feelin soft rn
{//||--Thank you for sending this in, I was happy to complete a piece like this. (I'm sure others will be very excited as well, as many have requested a soft Jester).
My head still hurts a bit, so I'm sure there are errors; apologies.
I hope you enjoy!
Pairing: Jester x Reader
Prompt: Soft vibes and closeness
Summary: traumatized (but happy) monster in solid 5+ year relationship with you; unhappy you don't know how tf to relax.
Note: my head still hurts; so if I'm wrong about bullshitting licensing and permits LOL I was not giving myself homework assignments to look these things up. *shrugs*
Typically, after breaking ground at a new location, the scent of damp crushed grass and the faint metallic tang of wheel grease from the circus rides always clung to the canvas of the tents. Tonight, however, it was entirely masked by the scent of lavender and eucalyptus oils.
You sat cross-legged in the middle of the wide bed, the silence of the circus grounds at midnight draped over the purple-and-black tent like a thick shawl. It was quiet—too quiet. Usually by this hour, nature's songs of crickets, frogs, and other creatures of the evening would have lulled you to sleep. But today had been different. Today you hadn't touched a single ledger, argued with a single city inspector, or stared down a local magistrate threatening to revoke the troupe's operating license over some archaic zoning law.
You actually spent the day in the town at a rather luxurious spa, followed by a quiet dinner where no one knew your name, no one demanded your signature, and no one dropped a stack of tax permits on your lap.
It should have been heaven; however, your chest felt tight with a buzzing and persistent anxiety.
What if Ticket Taker filed the health inspections under the wrong precinct? What if the local sheriff would return with the state marshals because the fire safety permits weren’t properly signed off? What if Jester—
The heavy flap of the tent parted with a quiet, cautious sweep.
Your eyes immediately locked onto him and your posture straightened. Jester stepped into the warm amber glow of the lantern light. He looked exhausted. The sharp lines of his shoulders slightly rounded beneath his coat. The moment his gaze drifted from the ground to find you sitting there, the weary tension in his being evaporated. It was a subtle, yet beautiful shift—the kind of softening he only allowed himself behind these closed canvas walls, away from the prying, dangerous eyes of the world.
To the rest of humanity, Jester was a spectacle, a brilliant and sharp-tongued enigma who kept his distance with a barrier of razor-thin wit and a bone-deep distrust. He had survived too much at the hands of humans to ever let his guard down outside of this safe-haven. But in here, after over five years of slow, patient, and deliberate devotion: you were his.
And he?
Entirely yours.
"Still awake, my clever little bird?" he purred. His melodic voice sounded lower and slightly raspy from a long day of delegating work and barking negotiations. "I distinctly recall giving you a day of mandatory relaxation. And yet... here you are, looking as though you’ve spent the entire time getting lost in navigating your anxiety... how curious."
"Jester...," you breathed his name in a way that made his chest tighten pleasantly. You slipped off the bed to meet him, to explain your excuses for not fully committing to relaxing (like he'd asked), but before you could take two steps, his clawed hand rose.
It wasn't a harsh gesture, but it was absolutely commanding.
"Stay right where you are, little mouse," his tone dripped with a quiet authority that immediately made your knees feel just a fraction weaker. "You are off duty today. Off duty means your feet do not touch the cold floor; not even to exert yourself to greet me. Back on the bed."
You hesitated for just a moment, the lingering anxiety of the day's unfinished work making you want to protest, but the demanding glow of your lover's eyes held you. You slowly backed up to your original spot on the bed and sank back into the soft cushions.
Jester flashed a pleased, razored grin. "Such a good girl..."
He didn't immediately climb into bed, but instead stepped close to stand right at the edge. He reached down, his thumb and forefinger gently catching the underside of your chin. Claws giving you an affectionate, ghostly touch. He guided your face upward slowly, deliberately.
The touch was warm and incredibly grounding. His violet eyes pierced down into your own, searching them with a sharp analytical intensity that softened into something deeply tender. You blushed under the weight of his stare.
"Your mind is still spinning," he observed out loud, clawed thumb lightly stroking your jawline. "I can practically hear the gears grinding from here... Tell me what is troubling that beautiful little head of yours...? Keep in mind: if the answer has anything to do with a permit or a ledger, I may have to banish you from the office until such things stop plaguing your thoughts."
"I'm just worried," you admitted reluctantly as you leaned into his hand. No point in lying: you were terrible at it. "The licensing for this county... it's been a nightmare. And if they find a loophole in the food permits or the performer visas—"
"Ssh." Jester placed his thumb over your lips to silence your worries instantly. "Ticket Taker is a monster of meticulous precision; he's always handled numbers with the sharp efficiency of a guillotine. As for the rest of your concerns: I personally managed the final signatures. The local magistrate was... uniquely cooperative after a brief, intellectual….conversation regarding the municipal code.”
You gave a small laugh, the tight knot in your chest loosening just a fraction. His unique gifts did come in handy at times, but still... "Jester, you didn't."
"I merely educated him on the law," Jester replied with a wicked, brilliant glint in his eye. "A service I provided entirely free of charge. The permit is signed, sealed, and locked in the safe. The show goes on, the local authorities are pacified, and the world has not spun off its axis because you were told to take twelve hours to relax and enjoy yourself."
He leaned down to press a slow, heavy kiss to your forehead. The scent of him—notes of sandalwood and lemon—washed over you with an instant calming effect.
"Now," he murmured against your skin, "you are going to let. it. all. go. Every single ounce of it. ...Do you understand, little mouse?"
"Yes," you whispered. You trusted him to take complete control, trusting your monster to allow you to go on complete auto-pilot. He'd certainly taken care of the heap of trouble that'd kept you up these last few previous nights... Stress began to melt from your shoulders at the surrender that seeped in.
"Splendid." He pulled back, his eyes catching the leather-bound book resting on the nightstand—a piece of classical literature you'd been trying to find the time to finish for months. He picked it up, weighing it in his hand before handing it overto you. “You're going to read for me: from where you left off. I want to hear your voice."
You took the book, your fingers idly tracing the aged gold-leaf lettering on the cover. "...Are you going to sleep?"
"Eventually," Jester shrugged as he maneuvered you both, shifting behind you on the bed. "But first, I am going to tend to you..."
He sat closely behind you, his long legs framing yours, pulling you back until your spine was flush against his broad chest. The familiar warmth of him radiating into you through his attire was intoxicating. You let your head rest back against his shoulder, finally letting out that breath you felt like you’d been holding all week.
Immediately, you felt his hands at the back of your head. His touch was incredibly slow. His fingers worked with an almost sacred gentleness as he began to undo the pins from your hair to let the long locks tumble down your back.
"Breathe with me, little mouse," he commanded softly near your ear, his chest expanding against your back in a deep, exaggerated inhale. "In... and out. Match my rhythm. You're still holding yourself as though you're bracing for a blow. Let it go..."
You closed your eyes for a moment and followed your lover's lead: mimicking his deep inhale as you felt the rise and fall of his chest. Your shoulders dropped a good two inches upon your last inhale.
"There," Jester praised softly. "That's my girl... Now, open your book. Let me hear those lovely words."
You opened the book to the marked page, biting your gently lip before you began to read. The prose was dark and made one question things about themselves, a classic tale of that you both enjoyed. At first, your voice was a little tentative, but as the steady rhythm of Jester’s fingers running through your hair began, you were about to find your stride.
Jester listened in an appreciative silence, occasionally letting out an amused hum at a particularly witty line of dialogue.
As you read to him, he kept his hands busy. He shifted your position and began to separate your hair into three neat sections. With slow, rhythmic movements he began to weave the pieces together. His fingers occasionally brushed against the sensitive skin of your neck, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. Every slide of his hands was steady and firm reminder of his presence, his care, and his ultimate charge over your well-being.
When you stumbled slightly over a more complex sentence with more outdated and theattrical verbiage, your voice faltered, the anxiety threatening to claw its way back up your neck.
Instantly, Jester’s hand paused in your hair. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to the side of your neck, right over your pulsing vein. He lingered there, his hot breath lingering on your skin.
"Slow down, little mouse," his lips brushed your skin as he spoke. "There is no need to rush. We have all the night, and all the nights after this one. Read it again... Slowly."
You drew in a long breath and read the sentence again. This time, the words flowed smoothly.
"Beautiful," Jester praised; resuming his slow braiding. "What a gorgeous voice you have."
The quiet praise washed over you like a warm wave that erased the very last of your defenses. You let yourself sink completely against him, trusting his strength to hold you up. He didn't mind the weight; in fact, you could feel the contented rumbles in his chest increase the more you surrendered not only to his mental support, but now the physical.
He finished the braid and secured the end with a hair tie from your make-shift side table. But he didn't move away. He wrapped his long, strong arms around your waist and pulled you tightly against his chest to lock you in an unbreakable hold.
He reached over, his hand covering yours on the book, gently but firmly pressing the pages flat.
"I think that is enough reading for one evening," he spoke so gently... "I can sense your eyes growing heavy, and your voice... it's turning into such a lovely, sleepy purr."
"I wanted to finish that chapter," you mumbled stubbornly. You didn't make any move to resist as he gently plucked the book from your fingers and returned it to the nightstand.
"I'm sure the characters will survive another night in their paper prison," Jester teased, his voice dropping to a soothing lilt. "Right now, your only responsibility is to rest... Understood?"
"Yes."
"Good." He shifted to pull you down with him as he slid under the heavy quilts, keeping you tucked securely against his side. He rested one warm, clawed hand on your hip—a reassuring weight that anchored you to the bed, to the present, and to him.
He watched you, his eyes glowing with interest as his thumb traced slow circles on your hip. In the dim lantern light of your shared quarters the defensive mask he wore for the rest of the world was entirely gone. There was only a deep adoration in his eyes. He had spent his life being treated as something monstrous. But with you? He was just a male who was deeply, irrevocably in love.
How terribly troublesome.
"You did.. well today," he praised before pressing a tender kiss to your temple.
"Thank you for saving me from the city inspectors," you murmured sleepily, wrapping an arm around your Jester's waist.
Your monster let out a melodious, genuine chuckle at this. "A minor feat, little mouse. I would slay far deadlier things than local bureaucrats to keep you safe and smiling."
He pulled the blankets up over your shoulders, his hand returning to its resting place on your hip, holding you close as your eyes finally drifted shut. For the first time in weeks your mind was entirely quiet; filled only with the slow steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek.
This is part four (4) of “You Turned Into a Monster, The Circus Doesn’t Know What To Do”.
—--------
Warnings!!! Fluff, some suggestive stuff, some things might sound sexual (they aren’t).
—--------
You’ve been here for a few months now.
Pierrot has been clingier than ever. He doesn’t let you out of his sight, always has you in the audience of his shows, watches you from the shadows to make sure no one hurts you, he has you in his arms whenever he can.
Harlequin continues to be the bitch he always is, but he’s your bitch and you love. He has been nicer than he usually is though. It’s a bit odd, but you are happy that he’s being nicer to you.
Jester lets you do pretty much whatever you want for work for the circus. He pats you on the head a lot, whenever he passes by you he pats your head, whenever he talks to you he pats you head, just being near you he pats you head. He will fix your uniform randomly, then pat your head.
Ticket Taker will randomly walk over and just stand there when he has free time. He likes to be around you, to watch you do whatever you are doing at that moment. He also made you your own ticket, just one that is only for you.
Doctor loves to have you watch over his experiments and show you his newest medical instrument. He will constantly invite you into his tent to show you new things and experiment on you. He is extremely gentle with his experiments on you, making sure you are comfortable while he runs his experiments.
—-------
“Pierrot please get off me…” You mutter, trying to do your work so Jester won’t scold you. Pierrot is laying on your back while you are working and he won’t get off, making it so fucking difficult to do your job.
“Do you not love me, my dear?” He sounds devastated, tightening his grip on you. He doesn’t want to let you go, he wants to hold you forever.
“I love you, but I need to do my job.” You explain, turning in his hold to face him. You put your hands on his chest and push, trying your hardest to push him off you.
Harlequin comes up behind you, pinning you against Pierrot and himself. He leans down to whisper to you.
“Jester will understand.” He picks you up, causing Pierrot to growl and tighten his grip on your middle. You are now being crushed in between two huge monsters with unbelievable strength.
“No-!” You try to protest, but someone cuts you off.
“Pierrot, Harlequin. Let [[name]] go.” It’s Jester, he sounds so tired.
Harlequin groans in annoyance as he drops you. You yelp in fear. Pierrot swiftly catches you, gently setting you down.
Jester sighs heavily, pointing at the entrance to your tent.
“Get out.”
The two pout and sulk as they leave your tent. Jester turns to you, putting his hand on your head. He pets you as if you were a cat.
“You alright?” He asks, fixing your shirt with one hand so he can keep petting you with his other hand.
“Yeah, just.. Just feeling a little squished.”
“I bet. Sorry about those two.” He apologizes, fixing your hair and smoothing out the new wrinkles in your outfit.
“It’s all good.” You smile, a little flustered by him caring for you so sweetly.
“The Doctor would like to see you, dear. He has a new thing to talk to you about.” Jester gently grabs your arm to lead you to the Doctor's tent.
You happily walk with Jester to Doctor's tent. You tell him about your favorite things about your job while walking. The walk isn’t far, your tent was put quite close to Doctor’s tent.
“Here you are, [[name]].” Jester opens the tent for you to enter, gently ushering you in.
“Sweetie! Come in, come in!” Doctor sounds excited, he must have something new that he’s been wanting for a few years now.
Jester quickly leaves to continue working and rehearsing.
You sit down in the chair to be strapped down so the Doctor can strap you down, but he doesn’t. He goes on with his usual check up things without forcing you to stay put.
(QUICK DISCLAIMER!!! I AM NOT A NURSE, I AM NOT A DOCTOR, THIS WILL BE VERY INCORRECT BUT PLEASE BARE WITH ME!! I AM WINGING IT :,,,,,,,,,,,C )
“How are you feeling, sweetie?” He asks, putting a blood pressure cuff on your bicep.
“A little stressed, but that's normal for a job like this.” You answer as you watch him work. “You’re not strapping me down?”
“No, no. You are always so good for me, so I won’t strap you down.” He asks you to take deep breaths for him while he puts his stethoscope on your chest and back, listening.
“Sweet.” You whisper to no one in particular, proud of yourself for being such a good patient.
“Now,” Doctor starts, walking into the darkness of his tent. “I have a little something for you, sweetie.”
“Ohh! Exciting!” You clasp your hands together, excited to see what he has for you.
He comes back with a book in his hands. When he places it in your lap and adjusts the light, you notice that it's a book about your favorite animal. It’s a thick book too, textbook sized book all about your favorite animal.
After letting you look it over for a little while, he grabs your hand, placing something in it.
It’s a mini, hand sewn by Doctor, plush of your favorite animal. It’s so incredibly goofy looking that you can’t help but laugh in delight. You love it so incredibly much, it’s so perfect.
“Thank you, Doc!” You try to suppress your laughter, but you just can’t help it. It’s too silly, too cute!
“I..” You interrupt yourself with laughter. “I love it so much!”
“I’m glad you love it, sweetie! I made it just for you.” He holds your hands in his, the mini plushie cradled in your hands.
Doctor loves making things for you, they all do. Every single one of those boys have given you so many different handmade gifts, your entire tent is full of them.
“Doctor, have you seen-” Ticket taker pauses, spotting you as he enters the Doctor’s tent.
“Ah, there you are, [[name]].” He walks further into the tent, standing beside you. “I have something for you. I spent a while on it.”
He looks up at Doctor, a silent request to take you away to have his turn at spending time with you.
Doctor sighs, ultimately letting Ticket Taker take you away. He has the entire day with you anyway, so he can share today.
Ticket Taker has a secure hold on your hand as he leads you to the ticket booth. There, on the desk in the booth is a new ticket. A [[your color]] colored ticket. You remember seeing Pierrot and Harlequin have their own special tickets to invite people to their shows. You had seen Ticket Taker with his own two different special tickets before too. You had been jealous about not having one yourself.
He picks it up and hands it to you.
“For you, my dear [[name]].” Your fingers brush as you take the ticket from him. You notice that his mask is a little redder than usual. He’s flustered.
You accept the ticket with enthusiasm, ecstatic to have your own ticket. You’re very own ticket. One that Ticket Taker took great care to make absolutely perfect.
As you look over the ticket, he grabs your free hand, bringing it to his lips. He kisses your knuckles softly, he can barely look at you. He’s so embarrassed. It’s so cute.
You pocket the ticket along with the mini plushie and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You pull him into a gentle but loving hug. Getting your own ticket means so much to you, more than he might ever know.
You feel so incredibly loved and cherished at the circus. More than you ever have in your entire life. It’s like having five extremely loving boyfriends, yet you guys have yet to actually establish that you are to each other.
—--------
A/N: Holy moly. That took so fucking long to write. AHHHHHHHHHH!!!! But I did it!! I hope you enjoyed reading it! Part five (5) is being renamed to part 4.5. I know I’m doing a lot of name changes to it, but it’s the second ending to this series (we aren’t done btw), and I want it to flow well. So I think I’ll do the more fluffy things as part five (5), part six (6), part seven (7) part eight (8), etc, and the angst parts as part 5.5, part 6.5. 7.5, 8.5 etc. That way It’s easier to find the fluff if you just want that or the angst if you just want that.
I just love your Dadverse for the freak circus!!! Can i request something for this AU but a little different? Like the MC and the reader being two seperate people, with the reader being a female monster and mother of the little ones when they're still babies (+ in a poly relationship with the boys).
Ok so we know that some tents in the circus are of limits and we know how nosy the mc can be. What if the mc, while looking for answers, stumples into a seperate tent (that is a little further away from the rest) where reader and the little ones are. There they see the female reader in her true form in a nest with the babies resting. Readers back is to the entrance of the tent and wakes up when she hears the gasp of the mc. Mabey mc things that reader stole the babies and tries to take them.
The guys only find mc, because they hear reader growling at something and the babies crying.
Sorry if it's to long and you can ignore this if you want
Heheheheheh I like this idea! I'm so happy to see people loving my silly little AU (๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑)
Tags/notes: Fem!Monster!reader. Small drabbles and ramblings, headcanon format. Poly!Circus. Implied murder/eating of a human. Kind of a mess, ngl, but hopfully enjoyable! Based off of my Little Monsters AU!
The image that comes to mind for this scenario is giant, eldritch mother all curled up in a nest of blankets, pillows, mattresses, and spare clothing from her lovers, with her children coiled around her. I also can't help but think of the kiddos as a bit younger, like Holly is only a month or two old while Juniper is five. Almost reminds me of those photos you see of gators carrying their hatchlings in their mouths.
So, a human MC walking into that? I personally might shit a brick at the sight.
It's not often that a human slips through the cracks of the circus' security, but a nosy soul can't help but poke around in places they shouldn't be. MC would have to pick the perfect time between performances where both the boys and the Fools would be busy, yet even then, they'd have get into the right tent.
It would be a bit of a smaller tent like the storage one, though colored in your favorites. Sure, it might not be terribly hard to find, but getting in would be quite the feat. The boys often check on you and their children between shows to make sure you're safe, fed, and the children are the same. Which is why MC would need to move fast if they wanted even a chance to get within twenty feet of it. Plus, for extra safety, there would be at least two Fools outside the doors to stand guard. They would need to be greatly distracted, or, if the MC was particularly persistent, put out of commission.
And even then, getting into the tent would be rough when you don't have the proper key, wouldn't it? Each member has one, but if MC hadn't (somehow) stolen one, the Fools would have one to pickpocket.
And after all of that hassle, after finally getting in, they find you.
Lounging against the cushions in your proper form, comforting a fussy Ellis while nursing a sleepy, chirping Holly. You dwarf the little ones, yet they are comforted by your scent and presence even as the door creaks open. Lizette peeks up from her cushion with curly bedhead, and it's only when she gasps that you care to look up. Standing there in the doorway, key in hand and a baffled expression on their face, is a human.
You don't move to hide yourself or the children away from the human's sight. You don't need to. Not when the mirror nearest to the door shimmers before displaying the silhouette of Ticket Taker for just a moment. Instead, you lay back against the nest and simply watch, knowing that any moment would be the human's end.
Curtis huddles at your side and whines at the sight of someone unfamiliar, while Juni squints at the blurry shape of the human as Lizette pokes her awake. Holly yawns and nuzzles into your breast as she sleeps, while Ellis stares wide-eyed and frightened at the stranger.
The human fumbles and moves to step back and run, but it is far too late for them. Ticket Taker had informed the rest of your lovers, and while he stepped through the mirror into your tent, the remaining four surrounded the human in a flash. Tendrils tightly bound the human's legs and arms as crimson gloves muffled their screams and sight. You gently pet Curtis' hair as Jester and Pierrot both fume silently, glowering down at the offensive pest.
"This wretch has a key..." Bil's voice has taken on a dangerous edge as he stoops down for the fallen key, as if he were barely restraining himself from shouting. Pierrot's hands flexed at his sides as Harlequin and Doctor bound the human, with the latter stabbing a needle into their neck with too much force. A deep rumble reverberates in Pierrot and Harlequin's chests as the former just barely curbs the urge to stab the human in the throat, and instead leans closer to inspect them.
"... I could make them into a nice curry."
Through the rapidly weakening struggles of the human as their body grow more and more limp, Jester takes a deep breath, turns, and walks towards you. He gives a gentle, measured pat to each of the children before brushing the back of his fingers against your cheek. His scowl had been replaced by his usual smile, though the strained lines around the seams of the mask told you it was only for the children.
"I suppose I'll have to up the security even more, my dearest. Apologies for the interruption. It will not happen again."
"Did you know some animals eat their offspring when they sense danger...?"
Angst, hurt/barely no comfort
[Part 1] [Part 2]
The Jester internally sighed, his foot taping under his desk.
You stand in front of him, clearly uneasy and out of place.
Pierrot's latest toy. Even Harlequin took a note of you, and then 40% of his main troupe was nonoperational, at each other's throat for days and nights.
Pierrot got as far as stabbing his friend for you, the little mouse who stuck her nose in other's business.
"You are a lot of trouble, dear visitor."
"I…!" You start to protest before immediately stopping with a sigh, "I know, I am sorry."
"Because of you, one of our artists is wounded and the other is… Unstable."
"I never asked to be a part of all this…" You growled.
"Yet here we are." He opened his folder.
'His' folder. Pierrot's folder of you. Filled to the brim with pictures and notes and little drawings everywhere. Jester refrained from rolling his eyes, he needed to teach better ways to handle a crush to Pierrot.
A coffee employee. Young woman living alone in her apartment. Nothing really interesting to say…
Yet you had the Pierrot wrapped around your fingers, and the Harlequin ready to pounce at a moment's notice. Which for better and for worse, forced him to look into you.
And he did not like he what seeing.
"I'll keep it short and soft this time. Stop running around the circus and cause trouble with my performers."
"You think I'm running into them in purpose, perhaps? You think I want their attention on me? The attention of…! Of some…!?" You spat, rolling your hands into fists, looking dagger at the purple clown.
A noted demonstration of bravery, albeit futile.
"Say it, visitor. Say it with your whole chest." He taunt, "Go on…"
"… Of some monsters?!" You finally hissed, looking straight into his purple eyes.
And there it was. In plain sight. Why they could never go along with your kinds.
Why the Jester simply loathed your species. And right now: loathed you.
He closed the folder dramatically, grinning meanly like he always did.
"Of course you don't. That's why they keep returning to you at each of your apparition. Because you don't want them. Of course."
"Piss off." And you spun on your heels.
"Feel free to not return, visitor." He added sweetly behind your back, "No one wants you here."
You remained frozen.
Before snorting, and turning back to face him again.
"Funny, I think the same thing of you all…"
__________________________________
"(M/C)…? (M/C)?" A strict voice you'd recognize anywhere whispers near you, a hand gently shaking your shoulder. "Wake up."
"What, Bil?" You grouse.
You don't want to wake up. You don't want to face the day. To face them all.
To face your loss again.
You want to stay in dreamland, where everything is possible and everyone is here.
Everyone.
"They are holding a new sitting. Do you want to come?" He asks.
You sigh longly.
Before admitting defeat.
"I'm coming…"
You pass on a pull over someone landed you to be somewhat… Presentable? Not egregious to look at least.
Truly, you did not really know what you were signing up for when Bil talk to you about the group in the camp, but you should have guessed it would have entailed a circle of chairs like alcoholics anonymous.
Everyone around looks so weary and utterly defeated, their loss ringing as close as yours, and slashed just as deep.
"Does someone wishes to start?" The lead asks softly. "Cihangir?"
The named Cihangir shakes his head, gaze low and mute.
"Maria?"
Maria straightens her posture, opening her mouth, only to close it back immediately with a choked sob.
The lead looks at everyone around them. A bunch of zombies more dead than alive inside.
"Human?"
"I, huh… I don't want to start." You admit, maybe a bit too coldly.
But you can't possibly open the sitting as the only human here.
Finally, a she-monsters takes the floor out of nowhere after a full minute of silence.
"It was premeditated. They know it was my house, among all the others. My sister died earlier, and I had to… Take in my nephew." Her sentences ends with a trembling voice, already regretting taking the spotlight.
"Yes?" The lead gently invites her to pursue.
"I knew the police would not come for us. And they knew I was all alone in that community. They wanted to sold us alive. For some black market. At first I tried… I really tried to stay calm, I tried to do like I had imagined it would happen so many time: Grabs the emergency bag, grab the baby and escape by the trap door in my cellar. I first thought… That I did it. That we escaped together safely. But they were on our trails. They wanted our horns for there medicines. And when I really realized how close they were, I… I blacked out."
"And?" Another soft invite.
"And when I recovered my senses again, I was holding his empty onesie with blood still in my mouth..." She finishes, signaling with her body that it was all she was willing to share for now.
You gulp, uncomfortable and out of place. Should you really be here?
Do you have the right to stand with them here?
"I see. Thank you for sharing, Ann." The lead nods with a modest smile, "You are all here for the same reason. Because you lost someone to the humans in very specific situations that forced you to act on instincts. Your monster instincts."
"Yet, one gets to sit with us…" Maria grouses lowly.
And there we go.
You sigh, resting your foot on the edge or your seat, pressing your knee to your chest.
"She lost to the human too. Her and her partners."
"Then why aren't they here instead?" Cihangir demands, passably annoyed.
"I am."
You snap your head to the side in complete surprise, discovering Jester sitting regally on the chair next to you. He dropped the circus attire for a black tank top, trousers and boots, his hair put in a ponytail with hos horns free of the purple hat.
What is he…?
"If you have something to say about our partner, say it to both our faces, Cihangir." He sternly adds, looking at the other monster with contempt.
"Thank you for joining us, Jester. Will the others come too?" The lead re-centers the conversation diplomatically.
"No. Not today at least." He lets them now.
"I see. They may join us whenever they feel comfortable." They nod gravely, "Does one of two wish to say something?"
And they all instinctively look at you specifically. Of course.
You turn to Jester for support. He looks at you with a single question in his purple eyes. You shake your head, looking back at the ground.
"I do." Jester declares in turn.
"Go on."
"Pulcinella… (M/C), gave us laugher and joy back where disdain and hate took all the place, slowly suffocating us all. She gave us a life saving breath. She gave us what we lost for so long. Hope."
You do not raise your gaze from the Peebles on the ground, still on your metal folding chair, barely trembling in the morning freshness.
"She gave me a wonderful daughter. She gave me second beating heart. The moment I held her in my arms for the first time, I knew everything we built for so long was worthless without her here. Without them three. I felt that my life's trajectory guided me to this very moment, to that fateful meeting with my baby. I knew that whatever I lived through before was meaningless before the most important being in that room appeared, through (M/C)'s sweat, her blood and her tears."
You let him speak obediently. Hearing the nickname he gave you back then for the first time after what happened… It makes your heart bleed as much as it brings you a twisted sense of home and familiarity. You cannot help but gulp as you listen.
"Her first word was 'mama'. Pulcinella still thinks to this day I was offended it was not 'papai'. I realize now, to late, that I should have told you that I taught her her first word myself."
You do not react. You just take in.
You let him unload his baggage, spill his heart for all to see. For you to see.
"She was very sharp and physically active early on. She was my pride. My hopes and ambitions given life. She was destined for greatness, it was plain to see. She took from us both. But more from her. I hoped that would be easier for her to mingle incognito in the rest of human society. I hoped, against my own ego, that she would be more human than monster, that she would not need to look over her shoulder when she walks in the street as a grown up. My wish was not granted."
You close your eyes, knowing perfectly where this is going.
"She was sighted playing outside our tent by human children. She was never supposed to leave the tent without adult supervision."
You brace for the emotional impact. For what is to come.
"Pulcinella was supposed to watch her, but she fell asleep. The kids teased my infant and she retaliated by biting one of their hand. She bite a whole chunk of it, and blew our cover."
You feel a single tear pearling down your cheek as you take a big breath. A low hiss spreads through the group, signaling that your time in that nice circle was running short.
You lets out a short sigh, starting to move to leave with what little dignity you had left, when Jester grabs your hand to stop you, not stopping talking himself.
"And I want to say to you whole present, that I fully endorse the responsibility of that failure for myself." He drops the most calmly in the world.
You look at your purple clown in shock. And the rest of the group too.
"We told her to watch over her, but it was an oversight on my part. Pulcinella just gave birth to two other babies really recently, and was helping us preparing for our next move. She told me she was up for the task, but I am the ringmaster. It is my job to manage everyone in the Circus and to recognize when someone is too exhausted for a task. It is my job to detect it beforehand and act accordingly, yet I let this oversight pass me. I trusted she would be able to do it, while she was beyond weary already looking after the newborns." He explains seriously.
Calmly.
Softly…
Forbidding you to escape that meeting before he finishes.
"I should have known better. And I did not. Again, I preferred to calm my daughter down and hurry the move-out instead of taking some moments to comfort (M/C) and ease her tears."
He never said anything like that. To anyone.
"This incident let to the arson, the fire, the deaths… My baby's death at my own hands. In all sense of the terms. I know we all feel a sense of kinship in our distress right now, and we want justice for our losses. But I see too many of you looking at our wife like a rabid dog responsible for all your misfortunes everyday. If you have a problem with her, you have a problem with me. Act accordingly from now on, or my monster instincts will return. We all lose too much already, and I refuse to lose a single person more. Especially our human partner." He lets the threat hovers the group with his piercing purple gaze, his assured voice tolling the bells of anyone who dares go head to head to him.
You look at him, eyes round like saucers, at a loss for words.
This is all new information for you. You never saw him open in such a way, and… What are you even supposed to do with those new facts?
"This works for you too, Pulcinella." He turns his icy stare on you, tending you up in his grip, "If you want to be mad at someone, if you want to hate someone for what happened, then hate me. Leave Pierrot and Harley out of it, they went through enough already."
"I… Huh…"
And he releases your hand at last.
"This is all I wanted to share." He simply finishes.
And as terrible and raw as he was a mere moment before, he visibly closes himself up, signaling that he won't share more to anyone.
To you too.
"… Thank you, Jester." The leader finally declares, closing this book for good, "Someone wants to take the floor?"
Someone raises their hand and starts talking, but frankly you can't hear a thing. You can only hear your own heartbeat drumming in your ears, and pulsating behind your eyes.
You just can't believe you just listen to that.
You jump as Jester simply stands up and walk away like nothing happened, his hands clasped behind his back, like he just didn't gut the entire relationship for all to see.
You growl and jumps on your feet, rushing about your purple clown.
"Hey…! Hey! Jester!" You shout, running after him through the camp.
The clouds gather rounds above your heads and you'd like to have a discussion staying dry.
He finally stops at the edges of the forest circling the camp.
"Yes, (M/C)?" He does not even turn to you.
"What was that all about?!" You demand.
"I came here to share my losses, like everyone else. Why?"
"What do you mean 'why'? I should be the one saying that! You think you can paint yourself as the benevolent, self-flagellating ringmaster and that will absolve you of everything?? That it will absolve you all of what you did?!"
You feel like you are going crazy right now.
He sighs, and turn to you.
"I came to share my truth. How I lived through the event. I did not do it to ease your conscience, but mine. I did not came for absolution, nor your forgiveness, but to spare what remains of my family."
"Harley and Pierrot?! I should not be outraged at them, perhaps?"
"It is sterile to do so. I told you, the fault lies with me. Be mad at me, but spare them."
"You know what? Yes!! Yes I am mad at you, Jester!"
"Good." And he turns away.
"You can't escape with a teary speech, Jester! Stop right there!"
He stops once more.
"What?" He asks once more, less patiently this time.
"You can't spawn back, say 'it was all my fault' and desert again right after! Put your words into action! Prove it!"
He tsks, spinning on his heels to face you again, baring his teeth
"To prove it?!" He demands.
"Prove me! Prove me that you cared!" You are on a dangerous hill, but have already slipped and now you can't stop, "You never consoled me, offered me any words of comfort! We lost everything in that fire, our house, our means, all our memories! I left everything behind for you all! You ate our baby, Jester! You put me to sleep to not be another burden and snooped me out of the country! And yet you are not around! I hear babies crying for help in my dreams and I am alone and cold! Doctor…! Doctor soothes my tears at night! Bil told me about the group! And you are nowhere to be seen! Pierrot is pacing around the nursery of the camp all day long, hoping madly that his son will be brought to him resurrected, forgetting to rest! Harley closed himself in mutism and apathy, gripping the remains of our children like it is the air of his lungs, forgetting to eat! I. Do. Not. See. You. Around! And I have yet to see you share. A. Single. Tear. JESTER!" You scream, out of yourself.
You pant, nails dug in your palms, completely out of breath.
A lightning rumbles through the sky, tearing the gray with claws of light, and with it the first drops.
Jester seemed to be about to grab your shoulder, but quickly retracts his hand as your raise your eyes back on him.
"I… I don't even know where you sleep in this god forsaken camp, for fuck sake…" You explain out of every word you last had, tears streaming down your face "I hate you all right now. I do. But I don't want to bury our babies alone, Jester. I can't… I can't do it all alone. I need to know you care. To be at my side even if you are afraid. Even if it hurts…"
He gulps, seems to hesitate, before clasping his hands behind his back.
As usual.
"Jester…." You beg, sobbing, "Please…"
But like earlier, he closed up, recoiling on himself like a carapace.
"I hear you, (M/C). But I can't allow myself to wallow in self-pity right now." He vexingly declare in voice too controlled for the situation at hand "I have matters to attend to to protect what remains of our family. You comprised."
His voice is emotionless and his gaze is void of all warmth.
"I can't offer you the tears that you crave from me." and again, he spins around, offering you his back.
"Jester…!" You plead.
"I am sorry, Pulcinella. Maybe it is best like that."
And he walks away, leaving you behind like he always does.
You scream at him to come back immediately, to not abandon you like that! That his duties are toward you and your children above all else.
He does not stop.
Doesn't even slow down.
You holds you knees, your throat dry to scream and cry so much, in the heavy rain while everyone else ran under a roof.
Jester walked into his tent, he was looking forward to a night of relaxing after a hard day of work. That is until he froze and saw you sitting on his bed, your eyes red, as your face was covered in tears.
"I--I'm sorry for coming in when you weren't here yet. I just--"
Jester walked over and opened a drawer, grabbing a small handkerchief, then walked over to you. Gently he grabbed your chin, lifting your face up as he wiped your face clean of your tears.
"You've only done as I told you to do and allowed. Do not apologize. Now tell me, was it your family again, or perhaps that boss of yours finally shown his true colors?"
"N-No. Boss did nothing wrong. He's nice...Always is..."
"Then its that family of yours. Honestly. I don't know why you continue to reach them if you know it'll always result with you in this state."
You started to cry more, and he sighed as he wiped your tears more.
"Enough crying, dear thing. I know you only meant well, but you need to learn when it's best and time to cut a line and let go. You can't keep harming yourself like this for others. It's only going to kill you in the end."
"I--I'm sorry..."
He hated to hear you apologize often, but he knew it was just a trauma response at this point.
He took a seat down next to you, then wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in close against his chest.
"Shhh. You've done nothing wrong, my little creature. Now close your eyes and rest. We can talk about this more later after you've recovered your energy again."
You fought back your tears as you closed your eyes, yet some still fell, but by habit now he easily caught them. Then he softly reassured you that it'll be alright as he rubbed your back, as slowly you started to drift off in his embrace.
MC Says "I love you" a lot/is affectionate. (The Freak Circus)
I was thinking abt this last night. My family says "I love you" whenever someone leaves, goes to a different room, goes to bed, etc. We're a very affectionate family. TFC boys gets a goober reader
----------------------------
Pierrot
Girl. It's his dream. He turns into a puppy every time you say it.
You started it by accident one day. He had visited the cafe and got his usual, and left you a little danish as a "tip". You had said "be careful getting back, love you".
Your boss had to ask him to leave because he had grabbed your hand and was just staring at you adoringly.
Now he pouts if you DON'T say it. You fell back easy into family habits, dropping an "I love you" when he was just going to another tent for a little while, or when you were going to sleep.
In turn, you also got more touchy. A simple rub to the shoulder as you passed by him. Bumping hips with him as you two were standing together. He's in heaven.
Harlequin
Now HE'S uncomfortable. He likes the flirting and sex, but the genuine affection is too much. Don't expect him to say it back.
Naturally, it was post sex. He wasn't particularly a cuddler, but he'd let you lay on him until you fell asleep. You let out a drowsy "g'night, love you" before you promptly passed out. He was frozen for hours after, just staring at your sleeping form in the dark.
He avoided you for a bit after, but it was easy to track him down and pull him back. He didn't actually WANT you gone, he was just scared of the vulnerability. He wanted to know you'd come for him.
Afterward, he doesn't rebuke your affections or anything. But he never really says it back plainly. A "see you later, love you" is met with an "Oh I know you do" rather than a return of the words.
He shows his affection in other ways. He drops food off for you, remembering what you liked (either bought or he convinced Pierrot to cook for you and then hurried to deliver it before Pierrot caught on). Dropping off little green accessories and "forces" you to put them on. And, naturally, he's physically affectionate. He just has to initiate said affections.
If you don't say it one day, he'll poke fun at you. Not being clingy today? Did he piss you off? Cute. Pretends it doesn't bother him. It bothers him.
In the dead of night, however, he'll whisper it. When you're snoring and dead to the world. He'll give you a small "Goodnight, dear one. I love you too".
Ticket Taker
Bil isn't really surprised by the confession. At first. It hits him an hour later. After he had distractedly replied in kind. Neither of you really knew what to do about it until your next meeting.
It was literally just "Dear, I'm running late I'll see you soon" "Alright be careful- love you!" "I love you, as well. Have a good day". And then an hour later TT's mid conversation with someone and just stops.
You two are lowkey in your affections after. It's about like that- love you's as goodbyes, as goodnights, as good mornings. Nothing real dramatic like Pierrot or assbackwards like Harlequin.
He does enjoy the verbal affections, as he isn't a super physical man. He also gets worried if you don't say it, as he'll ask if you're angry with him.
He can't start his day or end his night correctly without a "love you", now.
Doctor
The most up front about it. He asks if you mean that declaration of love, as he thought it was something to save for significant moments for humans.
You were going to dispose of some old gauze for him on your way to find Bil for something. You had said "be back in 10- love you!". When you got back, he was at the tent door. "Why did you say that? Do you actually love me or was that an automatic response?" It was both.
He kind of. Just automatically responds when you say it. Not that he DOESN'T love you, obviously. He just tends to also be distracted, and also parrots your mannerisms in an attempt to connect with you.
If you don't say it, it's like TT- he asks if he's upset you somehow, or if something else has bothered you.
He WILL just stare at you at night, when you're getting ready for bed, until you give him his "goodnight" I love you and kissie. He doesn't quite grasp he can say it first, yet. He'll get there.
Jester
Jester is tricky. He's like Harlequin in a way, but he also just does not want to relinquish control. Especially to you.
He asked you to run errands on his behalf, as you could slip through human stores easier. You gave him an "Alrighty, I'll be back tonight. Love you!". He grabbed you by the skull as you walked, physically turning you around and telling you not to throw such a declaration around so frivolously.
He didn't really stop thinking about it, though. And it bothered him to no end. He wouldn't outright say it was fine to do it again, but when you inevitably slip up and say it, he won't reprimand you so harshly.
Like Harlequin, he'd never outright return your affections. "I love you" is met with silence or a dismissive hum in the moment. But you'll find your clothes are folded neatly and tucked away when they get piled up. If you're tired, your alarm is mysteriously set an hour later than you had set it the night before. He'll deny any involvement, but his scent is everywhere.
I don't think he'd ever truly say it to you- even when you wouldn't remember. But you could almost hear it in the subtle purrs that rumble from his chest. Feel it in the way his teeth worship your throat. He'd say he wouldn't want to break you when he treats you like glass in the depths of his tent, away from prying eyes. And that's enough for you.
