Dreams of Crimson
🔮 summary: it starts off small. but Pierrot is nothing if not observant. it's hard to miss the way his color slowly starts creeping into your everyday life.
⚠️ warning: none so far in this fic, but please be aware that this blog (and this game, I believe) are 18+!
💫 a/n: this visual novel has been following me around, much like Pierrot himself. I am completely obsessed with this man clown demon thing. Simping for clown men was NOT on my 2025 bingo list. yes I wrote this all in one sitting at midnight LEAVE ME ALONE I AM CRAZY ABT THIS MAN. yes there is potentially a smutty sequel. and a follow up.
‼️ DISCLAIMER: The Freak Circus (and Pierrot!) belong to @nekoboydreams ! I am simply borrowing him for my own guilty pleasure. ❤️ Please go check out their blog and their amazing game on itch.io!
"Pierrot!"
Your voice is like a melody of untold saccharine promises, sweetly rising above the crowded sidewalks; you’re shouting for him, but you could’ve whispered and he still would’ve heard, heard the familiar beat of your heart, it’s rhythmic pounding as known to him as the back of his hand.
His fingers unwillingly clenched a bit harder, crinkling the flyers in his hand — his heart does too, but that’s another matter entirely. What does matter, is the fact that you are searching for him, out of your own desire, pushing against the crowds of people to find your place in front of him.
“Pierrot!” You exclaim, your voice as light and sunshiny as the summer breeze, chest heaving with effort from your ordeal to get to him, but finally, finally!, within reasonable distance. He can feel his face flush as he raises a hand to greet you, bells on his hand tinkling as he tilts his head in question. Oh, how he wished he could tuck that strand of loose hair behind your ear, how he wished he could embrace you lovingly, feel your heart against his chest, the sweat dripping down your neck as he leaned in and—
You giggle, reaching forward to coyly grab his raised hand with your own and letting the intertwined pair swinging between the two of you. Your actions pull both of you closer and Pierrot nearly squeaks, but he cannot. It is imperative he does not.
“Flyers again today, huh?”
He nods, still trying to meet your eyes and not stare down at your hands. He fails quite often, however, and your smile grows a bit larger.
“Will you have time to come by the shop today?”
He's trying not to keep looking, trying to focus on your question. Still, he can't prevent the way his body is going rigid, trying to keep his twisted devotion at bay, hurriedly attempting to push down the acid he can feel creeping up his throat, his saliva filling his throat, nearly spilling through his lips that he's since pressed shut.
You seem to notice this battle within himself, your head tilting down and to the side, subtly loosening your grip on his hand to stroke your finger up his arm.
Your red-tinted finger.
There, on your nails, is the exact color of Pierrot's coat, painted upon yourself. Like his pin is no longer enough for you. Must you cover yourself in his own color? Do you know what this does to him? Do you understand what this means?
He trembles under your touch. You bite your lip.
"You'll... be there, yeah? Promise...?"
You lean in at the last part, mimicking his own scene at your human workplace, and it drives him absolutely wild.
Mimickry is the highest form of flattery, after all...
Pierrot swallows, his eyes now no longer able to leave your face. The way your own gaze shifts to something... dark, it haunts him. Leaves him burning with a desire to pick you up and carry you off this instant, see if you can handle what wicked form his love comes in. But he knows he cannot do that, no. This town is far too suspicious of them already. Such a scene would cause unnecessary issues. And potential authority involvement. Something he absolutely needed to avoid, unfortunately.
He nods. Your fingers leave a cold, lonely path as they retract.
"I'll see you there," you whisper, no longer quite so innocent, lips puckering in what could be an air kiss as you leave, a last glance thrown his way. Or it could be simply a trick of the light. Pierrot's reality is slipping. He cannot discern which it is.
When he looks down, all the flyers in his hands have holes punctured in them, perfectly aligned with his fingers.
You, on the other hand, would love it if Pierrot could show up more often. It would save you from the utter boredom that is your shift. Another day, another shift, another personality you shift to in order to line your pockets with as many tips as you can get. The wariness gets to you, especially when the frost keeps everyone coming in for another hot pot of coffee. But Pierrot… he’s… different, you think, pressing down the button to brew another batch of black coffee. A unique spice (or, rather, sweetness?) to your day, something… new. You ponder if it’s the trace of intimidation and fear you get when you’re around the mysterious man, or maybe the thrill of exhilaration, as you shake the canister of sugar into someone’s cup, the way his eyes outline your figure, undressing you with nothing but his gaze, like he wants to peel every article of clothing off of you with his teeth.
“Ouch! …oh. Oops.” The cup overflows. Hot coffee burns your finger as you pull it away and wipe down the counter, erasing your mistake with nothing more than burning cheeks.
As the customers idly chat about another missing person, another piece of gossip, your hands and body go through the motions: make, serve, clean, smile, but your heart and mind are somewhere else entirely. The way Pierrot looked at you this morning, the way he said your name with such affection when you were alone... You are utterly enchanted with that man, regardless of what your boss said. You got this sick sort of fulfillment whenever you were near him, like that was where you needed to be. This need to be his. It was almost embarrassingly juvenile. The way you wished for more, more, more of him, like you were a grown-assed person with your own life, your own desires. It was like, ugh, it was like he was becoming a part of you and you were falling right into the trap.
"And did you hear... he was walking around with the same color lipstick she was wearing, right there on his cheek!"
A gasped, "no!" follows suit.
Your eyes blink over to the table next to the counter. Their words catching your ear with an eagerness you’ve never felt before. It gets too many ideas spinning, like a web of unholy strings lacing up your heart.
“Hey… Boss? Can I have a quick break? I need to run out really quick.”
Though, maybe you would regret saying you wanted your devilish red suitor around more often, knowing how often Harlequin followed whenever you had contact with Pierrot.
“Hello, little one.”
“Ugh. You again?”
Harlequin’s smile grows ever wider, but so does the corners of his eyes… or, mask? You still can’t tell. You’re wondering how he does that when he speaks again.
“Don’t sound so disgusted, darling. I know you’ve been missing me.”
“Yeah,” you scoff, clutching the small paper bag closer to your chest, your eyes scanning for a way around the tall man as he corners you between the pharmacy and the sidewalk. “As if. Keep dreaming.” You move to go around him, but his bells jingle as he sticks out an arm to stop you. “What do you want now? I’m still not taking a ticket from you.”
“No… I have something else in mind. Whatever is in the bag, dearest?”
You look away quickly, too quickly, unfortunately, and an emerald colored arm reaches out to grab the corner of your purchase, which you, of course, try to slap away, but he’s too fast, and ends up grabbing the offending appendage.
“Oh, ho, ho! What ever could that be, you’re so eager to hide? Could it be something for that Pierrot?”
“No!” You exclaim, trying to tug away from him. “No, it’s just… something for me.”
“Now, why don’t I believe you? What a naughty little one you are, continuing to lie when I know the truth?”
You feel your face begin to burn and you’re starting to put your entire body into pulling your hand back, when you feel warmth, behind you. You look up, and there, towering above you, is Pierrot, a dark look taking over his face, as he stares directly at Harlequin. In a flash, his hand is taking yours, ripping it out of Harlequin’s grasp with almost no effort. You feel like it should’ve hurt, but he’s delicately clutching you like you’re a petal that’s landed in his clutches.
“Pierrot… that’s not very nice. We were having a lovely conversation! Weren’t we, dear?”
You say nothing, just huff your annoyance, and turn around, pressing your bag to your chest once more.
“How… petulant,” he clicks, though he sounds less annoyed and more amused, he punctuates this with a low, dark laugh, that sends chills running up your spine, “Well. If there’s really no more fun to be had here… I’ll see you around, darling. Try not to keep me waiting.” And you don’t hear him leave, but you just know he’s slinked off into another dark alley to haunt, leaving the two of you somewhat alone.
You end up speaking first. “I… I’m sorry, Pierrot. I didn’t think I’d end up causing you more trouble today.” You sigh, letting your arms fall to your sides, as you raise your eyes to meet his. They softly scan your face, concernedly looking you over. “He didn’t get to me, don’t worry. He was just… pushy today.”
Pierrot pulls your hand up to inspect, and you wiggle your fingers in his grasp, giggling as his attention. “I promise! I’m fine, nothing hurts!” He nods, but moves your hand up to his mouth, gently pressing your hand against it. “A kiss for my boo-boo? Awww, Pierrot! Well… I’ve got something for you too.”
He lets you take your hand back and you rummage around in the bag you were so desperate to preserve a minute around, curious eyes following as you pluck out… a tube of lipstick.
A tube of red lipstick, to be exact.
Your eyes flutter downwards as you explain, “It- It was supposed to be a surprise… But Harlequin is good at ruining my plans.”
You can’t tell what Pierrot is feeling for a moment, because he just goes still. And then… he’s shaking, head to toe, gloved hand reaching out to pull the container from your grasp, his breathes coming in loud and heavy, louder than you’ve ever heard them, and he’s using a finger to push up your face, uncapping the lipstick, and shakily tracing over your lips, though, he begins to shake too hard near the end and you have to reach up and guide his hand over the last part of your lips. And when it’s done…
He drops the lipstick so fast you don’t even have time to exclaim, his arms go around your waist, hoisting you up onto him, your legs wrapping around his torso in reflex, “Pi-Pierrot!” His eyes are locked onto yours, reflecting a gaze that’s just as full of desire, and then he presses his mouth against yours, pulling back, letting you see the way your lipstick smeared on his mouth before dipping his head back in for another, and another, and another.
You’re laughing by the end of it, as he takes his second-hand lipstick covered lips and places kisses down your neck, red marks blooming all down your jugular, incomplete and messy and all around gorgeous because they’re from him.
“I, I was supposed to do this to you! Pierrot! Stop! We’re still in public!” Though it’s hard to believe you really want him to, as you playfully hiccup with giggles every time he does it. Eventually, he pulls away for a final time, you still in his arms, and Pierrot simply grins at you, nodding his approval.
“I’m surprised you can hold me this long. You’re really strong, Pierrot. But… you liked it then?” He eagerly nods. “Good. I was hoping you would. I, uh… gotta get back to the coffee shop. I took my break to do this… and I was planning on doing this later but… you know. Maybe later we can… do some more?” He nods, again, more resolutely this time, and you expect him to simply let you down, but he doesn’t. Instead, he dips you down, making your arms fly up and around his neck, and presses one more kiss to your mouth, before he lets go of your legs, but keeps one arm on your waist in order to lower you to the ground, mouths still connected.
You pull back, hoping people don’t notice your bashfulness, and wave Pierrot goodbye. Well. You didn’t expect your teasing to backfire, but… that was a good thing, right?
And Pierrot… he watches your form leave, utterly dumbfounded. His fingers come up to touch his lips, wondering if this was real, or another dream he’s conjured up about you. But the way they tingle when he presses against them has him growling lowly. It’s not enough. He needs more of you. And you… are so pliant, letting him trace over your life in red colored ink, tugging him further and further into a fate from which there is no return. Just how far will you take him into these depths…?
This was the first fanfic that reached me, and I had a lot of fun reading it! Their personalities are really well represented!
