sheepmc

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!!! just doing what a small sheep does best being a cute mence😈

[sheepmc]

MINORS DNI!!! THIS BLOG CONTAINS AND INTERACT WITH NSFW, DARK CONTENT PLEASE PUT YOUR AGE SOMEWHERE ON YOUR BLOG

Ageless/minors or blank blogs will be blocked ON SITE

🐏Sheepy/Sheep | 23 | She/her🐏

I will sometimes write and post but mostly I'll be a menace in the asks

🐏If you're feeling tired or just need to relax come cuddle me in the cuddle corner🐏

🐏Masterlist🐏

[erisnemesis]

🥳🎂🎉

Happy Birthday Harlequin 💚

[sheepmc]

you were there for sondepoch how does it feel interacting with a celebrity

[nazus]

Happy birthday! 🎉

[sheepmc]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PIERROT

[saltwaterobscenitiy]

Bacchanalia [NSFW]

The Freak Circus x Reader / Everyone x Jester

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Summary: Jester takes care of everyone else, so it's only fair, that when in his time of need, the whole circus bands together to take care of Jester...

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My lovely beta: @lexirambles

Tags List: @k3ndr4a, @realne0, @iceteapops, @dankidaniki, @l1vender00, @mypeenusisqueefing, @local-shrub, @blueintheboxx, @awkward-writes-shit

PROLOGUE

"Which one of you fucked up and got Jester all pissed off,"  Harlequin chided, his narrowed gaze shooting accusatory glares at the other gathered around the dinner table - MC and Pierrot especially - as the thought of Bil doing anything to upset Jester was strange and unusual, but then again - Jester being so irate for a prolonged period of time was strange and unusual. 

“Impressive, really,” Harlequin added, tapping his fork once against the viscera smeared across his plate. "Though, I'd rather not be under the circus’ equivalent of house-arrest when I've done nothing to deserve it."

“You've always done something,” Ticket Taker scoffed, derisively. He was of the opinion that the clown got away with far more than he should. “But I'll concede the point this time … the reaction seems disproportionate.”

It had been more than three days since they've been bound strictly to the circus. Jester's words were clear in his demands that none of them were permitted off of circus grounds. He'd been uncharacteristically short-tempered and irritable - harsher and venomous in his tone than any of them could recall - outside of a legitimate emergency. Even when trouble was brought to the circus's doorstep, it was unheard of for the boss to snap at them.

"Is he sick?" You suggested. 

"He has made the choice of isolating himself as of late," Bil pondered, folding his arms and resting a palm on the underside of his chin, his eye closed in thought.

“If he were sick, you’d know,” Harlequin voiced. “Jester doesn’t bother hiding things like that.”

Bil seemed to lack an immediate answer for this, and as usual opted for silence rather than to fill the air with benign speculation. Harlequin, however, had no such obligation.

"Perhaps this is a game," the clown spoke aloud, to whoever was foolish enough to listen. “Our poor, sick Jester…” he cooed, like the words amused him, "Maybe he’s waiting. Seeing who’s diligent enough to act without being asked. What do you think, Doctor?" Harlequin finished.

The clown's ramblings had completely eclipsed the newfound presence of the Doctor, it was only when it was verbally stated did multiple heads turn. 

The Doctor - eternally allusive - rarely expressed any inclination to fraternize with the rest of the circus and its affairs … While he was fond of each member of his family respectfully,  of course, he simply preferred to attend to the matters that needed his attention most;  most often within his own tent. Nonetheless, he seemed to have caught on to the cloud of worry amongst the table; perhaps it should not have come as a surprise that he felt compelled to involve himself, on the subject of Jester and his odd behaviour.

"I believe the answer is not as cryptic as you're making it. It is May,” he said blankly - as if the deeper meaning behind the statement was as obvious as the sun setting in the west.

Harlequin responded, making no effort to conceal the sharp edge of sarcasm. “Revolutionary.”

“No,” Doctor continued, either unbothered or oblivious to the jab. “Seasonal, actually.” 

 That earned him a pause. As the entire table gawked, failing to follow the Doctor's vague line of thought.

"I'm afraid I'm not following." Ticket Taker was the first to break the wave of confusion, stating plainly what every other perplexed face at the table was thinking.

The Doctor folded his gloves neatly upon the dining table, before taking his place before his meal across from Harlequin. “Late spring brings increased humidity, longer daylight hours, and - more relevant to our situation - the breeding period for Jester's... particular genus.”

"Breeding period?..." The words slipped from your mouth - not meant to question anyone in particular but your own curious mind.

"Yes." The Doctor confirmed.

Harlequin gave a soft scoff, if it was from disbelief or amusement couldn't be deciphered. "So let me understand this correctly," the clown's attire jingled softly as he bowed over, holding his stomach in an attempt to choke down the laughter bubbling to the surface.

 “…You’re saying,” he started slowly, cohesive syllables bubbling towards the surface “that this-” he gestured vaguely outward, as if Jester’s attitude had soaked into the very molecules of the air, “-isn’t about us, but Jester's need to get laid.”

Doctor tilted his head. “Not primarily, but yes.”

“Oh, that is rich.” Harlequin scoffed.

Ticket Taker’s being stilled against the table only sporadically shifted with a subtle twitch of irritation by the clown's blatant defamatory of Jester. However, Harlequin's statement miraculously wasn't enough to bring about its immediate correction. Instead, Bil opted to focus on what was most important; Understanding of Jester's ailment and its solution. “Clarify."

Doctor obliged without hesitation. “His symptoms include Increased aggression, territorial  behavior, heightened possessiveness, accompanied by a drive to gather and maintain proximity to preferred partners.”

“…Harem,” Harlequin translated, with an almost impish glee.

“Harem... I suppose. Functionally, the term 'preferred partners' could be substituted for it.” Doctor tilted his head, thinking over the word with an experimental drawl.

Silence followed that. Not the empty silence, where questions bled unchecked, yet none were answered - the one that usually accompanied confusion. Instead, this time, something heavier settled across the room caused by everyone, in their own way, fitting themselves into that definition of 'Preferred Partner'.

You felt it settle like weight across your shoulders. The words didn't sound as clinical, even when it was the Doctor who spoke them. 

“So... what?” You said, attempting levity and missing by a margin that almost felt like you were a rat caught in a kitchen.

 You wish you hadn't said anything - just kept your mouth shut until a verdict was formed. Now all eyes were on you, and the option to keep quiet was a road now barred, with no other choice you strung together the most cohesive sentence you could muster, “So... we just… wait it out? Keep getting snapped at until he chills?”

“He will not ‘chill,’ ” Doctor replied. “Not for a while, unless there is resolution.”

Pierrot’s chair creaked softly as he shifted, visibly disturbed at the implications of Doctor's words, Ticket Taker closed his eyes, a slow, methodical sigh dragging out, and Harlequin’s grin returned, slower now, like he were watching a car crash in slow motion, and was enjoying every second of it.

“Well that sounds solvable,” Harlequin spilled, his tone matching the doctors in that unbothered, far too casual kind of way. 

“Seems far more efficient than offering up a single sacrifice.” For a long moment, the others simply stared at him in silent surprise.

Harlequin reveled in the newfound attention, the corners of his mouth curling into a wide cheshire grin, "Aren't we scheduled for a show tonight, Bil? Seems pretty inefficient to leave… complications unresolved.” Slitted green irises slid to the head of the table, caught there by the Ticket Taker’s unyielding stare. 

You let out a short breath. “You’re joking.”

“Relax doll,” Harlequin said, turning his head just enough for his gaze to catch theirs, bright and intent. “Just being helpful~♡”

“That’s not-” You stopped knowing better than to start an argument you'd never win. This still didn't stop you from scrubbing a hand over your face in exasperation, a low rumbling growl resonated from the seat directly beside you. “This isn't some group project, Harlequin.”

“Why not?” he countered. “We are, apparently, already part of the collection.”

Ticket Taker cleared his throat softly, thoroughly tired of the banter. 

“Logistically… it would resolve the issue faster. But, that is not the only consideration,” Bil cut in, sharper than before. His gaze flicked toward you, then Pierrot. “This is not an obligation.”

 Ticket Taker continued,  "The dilemma is quite urgent… provided we're all willing, it might be possible to address Jester's condition, and prepare circus affairs before tonight's opening,”

 

“Given the extent to which he made sacrifices for each of our benefits, our course in this seems obvious,” Ticket Taker concluded. “Would any of you disagree?”

The room was plunged into an awkward silence, the question left lingering, naked and unaccompanied.

“Pierrot,” Ticket Taker made a point to now single out the clown. “If you have any objections, now would be the time to voice them.” His voice stern as to elicit a response and yet gentle enough as to not pressure him into a hasty decision.

Pierrot startled faintly when the group's attention reached him.

“...I’ll participate,” he said, voice quiet but steady enough to hold. Then, after a flicker of hesitation, his eyes shifted- landing on you. “If they do too.”

You felt the heat boil in your veins, swelling in your cheeks, not only because of Pierrot's bold statement. No,  it was the unwavering spotlight of attention that was now shifted directly upon you, leaving not an unobserved flicker of emotion nor trace of hesitation unrevealed. You felt your throat tighten, constricting until neither breath nor voice could flee. 

You could only watch as Harlequin’s hungry, almost predatory gaze lit up in delight, as if watching you swallow around your leadened tongue was the most entertainment he's gotten all evening, and he had all night to enjoy it. Beside him at the head of the table, Ticket Taker’s look was steady, expectant, a constant quiet authority within the room. He held the same patience he exercised with Pierrot for you, yet that still didn't stop the pressure that bore down on you like physical weights. 

You averted your gaze from the more stifling end of the table, and met your own reflection in the Doctor's eyewear. His posture was clinical, detached, almost serene in his observation. His gaze didn’t observe you quite like the others did, he didn't expect anything from you except results; an unanswered hypothesis about the human mind when put under stress- you could merely assume.

Pierrot's in contrast were gentle, open, too earnest for the weight of the room, watched you like you were a life raft, and he was stranded in turbulent waves. There was hope there, tangled with anxiety, a quiet plea not to force him into a choice to displease you, nor his closest familiars. 

But do you even want this?

Is this more about helping Pierrot… or being wanted by Jester?

All of your interactions with him were short, cut and dry at best, one-sided-ly awkward at worst. Who's to say he would  even want to-?

Your eyes slipped closed and you inhaled on four, held for four, and exhaled for four. You breathed in, you breathed out.

"S-sure." The word came out smaller than intended. You forced a breath out through your nose, willing your voice to be steadier this time.

"As long as everyone's willing." You felt for Pierrot's hands beneath the table, only to be caught first. His grip was firm,  glove too soft and lace comfortably solid. There was something unspoken there, between the interaction. The shared embrace, something unwavering , a promise that all will be well.

...

After dinner had concluded, the room emptied rather quickly.

Doctor and Bil set out together. Their exit was swift and without elaboration. If you were to take a guess, you'd assume they were both on their way to Jester's tent to inform him of the verdict, and to gather his acceptance.

Harlequin lingered just long enough to watch them go, tracking them with a cheshire grin until the moment they disappeared beyond the thick canvas tent. Soon after, with a provocative wink in your direction I disappeared into the night soon after.

 

 You lingered longer. Pierrot, the ever present shadow at your side, hadn't budged either, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. 

"Hey we should probably go wash up... Together,  if you want, I think we still have that strawberry bath bomb you like."

If there was anything you loved most about Pierrot, it'd probably be how transparent he was, never holding anything back unless he had too. At the mere mention of being within air sharing distance of you, wet, naked, and sharing a scent he liked - he lit up, the revelation that unfolded only minutes ago and the future to come now irrelevant. 

"I would want nothing more, my dearest~♡"  He beamed, eyes dreary in bliss and a wide smile framing his face.  It reminded you of the beginning of all this, when you had let him into the cafe during closing and patched him up like he was some stray. Now, the big baby turned out to be the love of your life. 

Perhaps tonight's events will pan out in the same positive direction, and even if it didn't, you had Pierrot's promise that no matter what, everything will turn out fine. The vow was enough to soothe your worries, and give you the strength to continue forward, and guide Pierrot to your tent, hand in hand

...

 With your concerns and fears assuaged, you'd allowed Pierrot to lead you toward the spare bedroom Bil had set up for the affair. Candles flickered in each corner and along the windowsill, casting the room in a warm glow. Already undressed, Harlequin appeared almost golden in the low light, strewn across the floor, his form devastatingly seductive amongst the sea of pillows, quilts, and mattresses gathered from storage. The furnishings had been removed, say for a low table appearing almost like an altar at the center of the room. Ticket Taker, poised and professional despite his staggering lack of clothes, he waited beside it with a diligence that seemed out of place for the occasion.

"Should we undress too?" You questioned the Ticket Taker nervously, trying to look anywhere other than directly at anyone or anything.

"That would be wise." Bil concluded.

You felt the familiar feeling of blood rushing to the swells of your cheeks. Instinctively you glanced behind you for guidance from your other half, only to be met with the pale expanse of Pierrot's chest, who seemed to waste no time on modesty.

 

His garments pooled amongst the ground beside him, fabric slipped from his shoulders, then his waist, then fell in soft succession to the floor at his feet, one after the other until only his hat remained. If the scene weren't so scandalizing, it would have been comedic. it might have played like some absurd stage act, a magician shedding layers instead of pulling rabbits from hats.

You, meanwhile, felt rooted in place, caught somewhere between mortification and a strange, flickering curiosity. 

Of course Pierriot noticed, he always did.

A soft, almost shy sound left him, warm and breathy, like you still being too shy to look at his naked body after seeing it dozens of times, was some personal insult.

"Please, don't be shy. Look all you'd like, my dearest. Please... Ravish me with your gaze as I would you." 

“Or we could all get on with... this,  and spare ourselves the poetry.” Harlequin cut in, voice dry with disinterest, yawning as to emphasize this notion. 

"Matter of fact... Where is our Jes?" 

Ticket Taker cleared his throat, but otherwise unshaken by the sudden use of nicknames. "Jester is with the doctor currently, they both should be with us momentarily."

You nodded, distracting yourself with the slow removal of your own garments, careful to ignore the increasingly noisy engine-like growls emanating from the clown doing his damndest to shield you from Harlequin's gaze. 

You focused on the fabric. The way it slid against your skin. The quiet sounds it made as it joined the growing pile on the floor.

Harlequin said something, drawn out and teasing. Yet it was tuned out, almost muffled at the edges of your mind. So were Pierrot’s low, protective rumbles, that sounded more like a low purr than a warning. You sighed, losing yourself in the simplicity of shedding your layers, even going so far as to close your eyes and imagine you were in the calming, desolation of your own bedroom.

You let it all dissolve, and somewhere beyond that, just at the edge of your awareness, the entrance of the tent shifted. A faint disturbance, ignored in place of your own musings.

As the last of your clothing was kicked off, close to the side of the room your awareness returned.

“What would you require of me, before we commence?” Jester questioned the Ticket Taker gently. Despite the softness, the voice broke you from your trance, making your spine straighten instinctively. Your hands stilled where they hovered at your hips, just beneath the corners of your underwear.

You hadn't even noticed them arrive.

“To lie on the altar and be comfortable. Following the preparations, you're free to use us as you will.”

“I am dreadfully proud of you. I want you to know that,” the Jester commented him softly, cupping his jaw and grazing a thumb fondly along the Ticket Taker's cheekbone, before leaning down to capture his lips in a hungry kiss. Bil gave a small gasp of surprise, before letting out a low groan, the noise encouraging the primal, hormone driven part of the jester's mind. Impulsively, he attempted to push his offering back against the altar, wanting to take and claim what was being so sweetly offered. But it was here that he met resistance, Bil pulling away, and meeting his gaze with determination.

“My deepest apologies,” his second in command apologized mournfully, before clawed fingers found the edges of the jester's robe. “We suggest Harlequin be the first. He explicitly requested it, If you would permit it."

Jester nodded his assent, allowing Ticket Taker to peel the garment away, before taking his place on the table, adopting a supine position. He seemed to relax -  you could only assume it was due to the presence of his whole 'harem'. That much was evident by the almost serene smile on his lips, accompanied by his already painfully erection once again, cock standing proudly upright. It appeared he wasn't the only one; his attention, and yours was drawn by a plaintive, needy whine from the floor below. Harlequin's head and shoulders were held firm in Pierrot's lap. A syringe was buried deep in one of the clown's thighs - a steady flow of the mystery pink substance being pumped into his veins - as the Doctor steadily plunged three fingers in and out of the smaller monster's hole. You felt as much as you heard the Jester growl in frustrated displeasure.

“Relax,” Bil chastised sternly. “Doctor is simply preparing him for you." Harlequin had been noisily adamant about it, citing that the whole thing had been his idea in the first place. Ticket Taker didn't mention the added benefit of Harlequin taking the worst of Jester's rut- was keeping the harlot temporarily out of commission for the remainder of the affair. With his hands full of ensuring this ended in success and staying on track for tonight's show; Bil needed all the peace of mind and clarity he could muster. 

And you silently found yourself sharing that sentiment.

...

PT. 2 Releases Tomorrow, Stay tuned for some Harlequin x Jester Action.

[maleficentra]

Little fan comic for The Freak Circus 🖤🎪

Not official, not for sale, and not monetized.

This is Pierrot, after he met MC (Or here her name is Angel).

These pages were created with AI assistance and then manually edited/adjusted by me, so it is a mix of AI-generated material and my own hand edits/post-processing.

The Freak Circus and its characters do not belong to me.

Creator/Developer: Neko Bueno / @nekoboydreams

This is just fan content made out of love for the game and its characters.

Links and Other Pages:

Please be aware that these are the only platforms to get official information and/or download The Freak Circus.

Itch.io

Patreon | Current AMA

Ko-Fi

Bluesky

[theawfuledges]

Thinking about "it" and by "it" I mean The Freak Circus Harlequin trying to escape an angry mob while in monster form only to stumble upon Reader whose on a nightly stroll. Luckily for them, right now he's prioritizing getting tf out of there so he chooses to run away in a different direction

However... he overhears the mob ask Reader where the monster went, and based off the sound of their footsteps, they misdirected the mob, and led them away from Harlequin

Harlequin gets to escape, he lives. Unfortunately while he gained the gift of not violently dying that night, Reader gained a pest™ that follows them around everywhere because he wants to know more about the moron odd human that helped him for no reason other than "I didn't want to see anyone get beaten to death ty"

i don’t know if you meant for this to be a prompt but i have not been able to stop thinking about it since it hit my inbox so uhhh enjoy?

(feel free to send me more scenarios for these characters btw, i’d love to write more~)

ao3

stunned with falling (the harlequin x gn!reader, the freak circus)

You don’t know how lucky you are.

Or perhaps you do, with that expression of stunned terror fixed upon your face, the streetlamps above setting the panes of your widened eyes alight before he catches the rumble of feet at his back and lumbers in the opposite direction of your frozen form.

Ducking into the nearest alleyway affords him a moment of respite, though his current form is nearly too large to fit within its confines, horns scrapping along brick as he tilts his head back to listen to the din of the mob growing louder, closer.

“Which way?” a gruff voice shouts from within the crowd, their inquiry no doubt directed toward you. Who else could the mob have stumbled upon, at this late hour?

The cadence of your voice is too low for his ears to catch, and yet the renewed rumble of his pursuers’ footsteps are anything but, a renewed sense of purpose in the cries of his would-be killers as they set off in fresh pursuit -

- away from his current hiding spot, where you had doubtlessly seen him run. 

The Harlequin pauses, claws raking gently across brick as he pokes his head out of the shadows and peers down the street to where he had seen you last. 

You stand exactly where he had left you, gaze fixed on the retreating mob. As soon as they’re out of your sight, your eyes swing in his direction, peering restlessly into the shadows he had delved within with your fingers clenching uncertainly at your sides and your lip sucked between your teeth. 

What would you do, if he revealed himself to you again? Would you run? Scream for the mob you had just so effortlessly waylaid? Or would you stay, lip plumping beneath the blunt pressure of your teeth, and allow yourself to be consumed?

The Harlequin shudders at the thought, hunger a bitter film in the back of his throat. Hunger for flesh, the same hunger that had loosed him on the streets after the circus had closed its doors for the night, and yet not. Not entirely. 

Curiosity, then, he decides, for the fool who had confronted the dogs on his tail, and sent them off chasing shadows. 

Your good deed would not go unrewarded, he promises with a baring of his teeth, shadows shifting as his form shrinks into itself and the alleyway filling with the muted pop of flesh and bone reorienting, horns and claws retreating under swaths of green and black and the faintest tinkling of bells. 

You had found your footing in the meantime, it seems, the soles of your shoes thudding gently against asphalt as you retreat in the opposite direction from himself and the mob. Not quickly enough to escape his notice, of course, and the Harlequin grins as he gives chase, the faint traces of your scent lingering upon the air serving as a beacon to guide him straight to you.

Rather than immediately lunging upon you and sinking his claws into those delectable shoulders as he’d originally planned upon your first meeting, the Harlequin sticks instead to the shadows gathering at your feet, footfalls silent as the grave and teeth bared in an anticipatory grin.

Almost as though sensing his presence, you glance over your shoulder, eyes quickly scanning the dark street behind you before the speed of your footsteps increase, the scrapping of your shoes over asphalt joined by the heated rush of your breaths and the faint but telling drumming of your pulse at the base of your throat.

The Harlequin’s forked tongue flickers across his bottom lip. Mmm. So much fear. 

Poor thing, he thinks pityingly, green eyes gleaming in the dark. Its sweetness had drawn him to you earlier, but now he finds himself preferring the traces of your true scent lying buried beneath it, a fresh, soft smell that reminds him of clean linen and the air after a rainstorm. 

Hunger gnaws in his belly. How strong would that scent of yours grow, were he to place his lips against your beating pulse?

As though eager to bestow the answer upon him, one of the streetlights overhead pop and go out, drawing a strangled gasp from your throat and stilling your feet. In the moment that your gaze swings toward the offending darkness, the Harlequin has already settled within it, wide, white smile and fierce green eyes emerging from the gloom.

At the sight of him, your heart gives a harsh, resounding thud in your chest. 

“You - ” your voice trembles over the word, hands curling into fists at your sides. “I knew it was you. Why are you following me?”

The Harlequin tilts his head, the bells on his hat jingling merrily. “Why did you do it?” he counters, voice a mere rasp in the darkness.

Your lips press together, feet shifting restlessly beneath his gaze. “Didn’t feel like seeing someone get beaten to death,” you return glibly, and the Harlequin laughs at your candor.

“You have my thanks, strange one,” he replies, dipping his arm in a theatrical bow. “But surely you’d prefer something else. A reward, perhaps?”

You take a step back, shaking your head. “Your thanks is enough,” you assure him, shivering as his eyes catch the light from nearby lamps, yellow and gold and green reflecting eerily from the darkness. 

The Harlequin’s crescent grin widens, his body sinking stealthily into the shadows. “Oh, I think not,” his voice drifts airily from the void, and you jump as his warmth settles across your back a bare moment later, shoulders stiffening beneath his weight and one wide eye turning to meet his gaze. “I can do much better than that.”

“I… ” you fumble, shoulders heaving against his chest. Your pulse races rabbit-fast at the base of your throat, and the Harlequin barely resists the urge to tuck his teeth against that throbbing swath of skin. “I - I don’t - ”

“Ah, I know just the thing!” It’s entirely too difficult to gather his thoughts with your body tucked so close - so close and so warm, despite your fear and the late hour. Your constant wriggling does neither of you any favors, the friction of his costume and your thin shirt and jacket only serving to remind him of how insignificant the barriers between you truly are. Just a rending of his claws would bare your flesh to him. But first - ”Here you go! Something special, just for you.”

You blink owlishly at the ticket he held before your gaze, the worn paper emblazoned with the words The Freak Circus and dyed the same vibrant green as his eyes.

“A - a ticket?” you murmur, making no move to retrieve the gift just yet.

“My ticket,” the Harlequin corrects, his free hand winding around your waist and claws curling lightly over your stomach. Your skin jumps beneath his touch, shoulders twitching harshly against his chest, and the Harlequin hisses gently against the urge to rip, to tear - not at your flesh, but at the clothing that dares to separate yours from his. His hunger has not waned, after all. It has merely… changed. 

“You want me to… use it at the circus?” you breathe, seemingly afraid to make any further moves with his claws tucked so closely against vulnerable flesh. 

The Harlequin hums, fitting his chin in the bend of your shoulder and pressing the cool, white cheek of his mask against yours. “As my guest of honor,” he confirms, dark curls tickling your cheek. 

Your lips rasp dryly together as you reach for the slip of paper held aloft in his claws, fingers trembling as they curl around the edge of the ticket. You linger there for a moment, not moving, as though you know your fate is sealed the moment you pluck the gift from his grip.

“Tell me you’ll take it,” he urges you, teeth clicking gently together as he tucks his wide, wild grin against your throat. Your pulse hitches at the touch, warmth suffusing your skin, and the Harlequin nearly shudders at the sharp ache of hunger clawing at his belly. At your feet, unbeknownst to you in the moment, tendrils of jade-colored tentacles billow and writhe, eager to climb along your calves at the slightest of urgings from their master. “Tell me you’ll come.” 

“I - ” you swallow roughly, throat humming against his teeth, and pluck the ticket from the curl of his claws. “I’ll come,” you promise quietly, trembling as you stuff his offering into the pocket of your jacket. Your fear has gained a sharp, sweet edge, so strong it nearly sours on his tongue, but the Harlequin knows you’ll keep your word despite your terror. You have little choice, now that he knows your scent, knows you, and where to find you.

“Until then, strange one,” he smiles, claws squeezing appreciatively at your flesh before he pulls away. You watch him go in tense, terrorized fascination, your gaze a heady weight along his spine. “Sleep well!” he calls over his shoulder, though he knows you will not. Your dreams that night will be filled with sharp, white teeth and green eyes, just as his will be laced with the soft, rainfall scent of your skin.

Until you meet again.

[sheepmc]

Saw a comic of Pierrot with a baby and the result of my heart melting is this so enjoy!!

Just everyone reacting to you being pregnant and pierrot worrying about if he's going to be a good father might expand on this later on.

The day you found out your pregnant Pierrot would cry but also doubt himself thinking if he would be a good father and you reassuring him that you both will be new to being parents and will figure it out together.

Cue telling the others you're pregnant and their reactions are interesting by that I mean Doctor's follow by Harlequin then Ticket Taker and Jester.

Doctor would be monitoring you constantly ensuring both you and the baby are in good health just don't mind him taking samples and notes on his findings.

Harlequin being his usual self with his classic teasing and rage baiting Pierrot with something along the lines of "Maybe I should try my luck and see if our dangerous dear would let me father a child too."

Ticket Taker already having to deal with the circus finances now has to add baby stuff to his already pack list but he's secretly interested in wanting to know what the baby will look like while also buying books on parenting and childcare.

Jester on the other hand he's worried and rightfully so because how can a child be brought into such a life like the circus and be put in danger because of their constant relocating but he's also happy for Pierrot because all Jester wants is for his family to be safe, happy and in peace.

Jester will somewhat soften up around you but just a little so do expect him to check up on you every now and then because like it or not you're part of their circus and family now so deal with it after all you're the one carrying a monster's child and dating one.

Anyways back to Pierrot, he would be constantly be worrying and wanting to be by your side taking care of you and making meals healthy enough for you and your baby.

Pierrot has gotten a lot more needy, possessive and protective the further along with your pregnancy so expect lots of holding you, dragging you back to bed where it's safe.

Pierrot would still have his doubts and you also tell him about yours wanting to share and tell him he's not alone in feeling this way and cue to you both cuddling and crying after a long heartfelt conversation.

Harlequin is as equally protective of you and shows it in small little ways that might look like simple things to anyone but to you it's much more than that.

Harlequin will also have his doubts in trying to care and bond with the baby but he also can't stop himself from daydreaming what it would be like if you also carried his child assuming that you chose both Harlequin and Pierrot that is.

[diviniyae]

glowing / neon dividers

credit not needed. recoloring welcomed. feel free to edit as you need!

[sheepmc]

Merman Zhongli

I don't even know where I was going with this and nearly exploded my brain in thinking of scenarios and so on for this.

Tried my hand at writing something for Mermay. I don't think I'll write something like this anytime soon or later.

Ok hold what about young Merman!Morax who has a distrust of humans and is instinct driven to hunt and drown any unfortunate human who has wondered into his territory and then there is you, who unfortunately or fortunately yet unknowingly entered his territory after being abandoned on a small boat by the ones you once called family.

Merman!Morax who saw your boat thinking who dares to enter his territory without his permission swam towards your boat to drown you only to find you barely awake and he's mesmerized by your beauty in which he thinks that he must have you for himself as his mate so no one else can have and pulled your boat to a cave that house a hidden tunnel with all of his treasures and went back out to hunt something for you to eat.

~~2 weeks later~~

After you recovered Merman!Morax took you out to explore his territory to try get to know you, court you and make you his mate, the both of you spend hours talking about each other to the point of how and why you end up where you are now.

After Merman!Morax heard what your family did to you he swore that if anyone of them ever set foot or boat in his territory he will make their deaths painful after that was said you both fall into a silence either enjoying the wind and sounds of the water.

But out of the corner of your eye you notice something about Merman!Morax it was his eyes, hands and tail that is glowing almost and as if in a daze you reach for his hand, Merman!Morax at first was hesitant to let you touch his hand let alone his claws afraid you might get hurt from how sharp it is.

But he was also giddy on the inside but he kept his stoic expression in place and because you want to touch him instead of flinching away from him when he moves too fast and as if time slowed down just for the two of you at this very moment, you trace the scars that litter his hand, Merman!Morax can't help but stare with a lovesick smile while leaning against your boat admiring you and you him with a smile.

[sheepmc]

Genshin impact

The Freak Circus

[sheepmc]

The Freak Circus Masterlist

Harlequin

Jester

🐏Jester drabble🐏

Pierrot

🐏Pregnancy hc with Pierrot🐏

[sheepmc]

So hear me out but I'll be smashing the monster murder clowns and what I mean by that is exactly as I said.

The Freak Circus have me in a chokehold along with Pierrot, Harlequin and Jester and I played the game and UNGODLY amount of times.

Hopefully I did Jester justice from the bits and pieces I got from the AMAS.

Enjoy this Jester blurb?? drabble??

I did not proofread this.

Jester doesn't like physical touch but for you he'll make a reluctant exception but only just a little.

But it's him that will do the touching when he feels like it but do give him a little head's up if you're planning on touching him.

Like for instance he's ok with hand holding or you tracing and or drawing on his palm it does something calming and relaxing to him but he won't tell you that.

If you ask to brush or braid his hair just know it'll take a lot of time and convincing for him to finally let you do just be mindful of his horns.

I also see Jester keeping a hand on your lower back or waist to show and ward off pesky things from approaching.

We know they aren't heavy sleepers so getting Jester to fully trust you and fall into a heavy sleep will be nothing short of a miracle and blessing for you that he's actually trusting you to be in a deep sleep.

[kurapikapikachuu]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ three's a crowd!

poly!relationship texts with genshin men

characters/pairings included: Alhaitham/Kaveh, Ayato/Thoma, Cyno/Tighnari, Dahlia/Venti, Illuga/Flins, Kazuha/Wanderer, Neuvillette/Wriothesley

warnings!! suggestive content ahead!!

chuu's note: enjoy lovelies~ (pretty pls ignore the spelling mistakes ૮(˶ㅠ︿ㅠ)ა

Illuga & Flins

Alhaitham & Kaveh

Cyno & Tighnari

Dahlia & Venti

Kazuha & Wanderer

Thoma & Ayato

Wriothesley & Neuvillette

© kurapikapikachuu | Please do not feed any of my work into AI. Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3 lots of love, chuu!

my ao3 & ko-fi !!!

[plagacorvus-616]

Dark Teyvat

6 of 7 Archons

[noctisiss]

Tuned to the dead Masterlist

|‿⁞‿⋮‿|⌣︶ ⫰ ︶⌣|‿⋮‿⁞‿|

Summary: A local popular writer finally buying her first house. However the house she so thinks that will be her forever home has quite the problem....

Introduction

PRE-HELL ERA

Part I Part VI Part XI

Part II Part VII Part XII

Part III Part VIII Part XIII

Part IV Part IX Part XIV

Part V Part X Part XV

HELL ERA (S2 SETTING)

Summary: Were dead...like actually dead - And as much as we would like a quiet start thats never the case for us..is it?

XVI XXI XXVI XVII XXII (Will continue once s3 is out!) XVIII XXIII XIX XXIV XX XXV

--->Non canon route

Side Stories

Alastor taking care of sick!reader

Vox meeting writer!reader

Alastor cheering up his darling after a bad day

Alastor with his drunk writer

Alastor annoying his writer with french

Writer!reader meeting her childhood friend with Alastor present!

Writer! reader ignoring Alastor because she was angry at him

Writer! reader accidentilly writes what?!

More short stories here

╭══• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •══╮

Playlist

╰══• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •══╯

1.Red Sex (Re-strung)-Vessell

2.RUNRUNRUN-Dutch Melrose

3.Haunted-Isabel LaRosa

4.Slow Down-Chase Atlantic

5.Forbidden Fruit-Tommee Profitt,Sam Tinnesz & brooke

6.Est-ce que tu m'aimes?-GIMS

7.Love Story-Indila

9. If you think I'm pretty-Artemas

10.Seven minutes in heaven-Mindless Self Indulgance

11.Tous les memes-Stromae

12.Insane-Black Gryph0n & Baasik

13.Lone Digger-Caravan Palace

[angelxchi]

content: size kink. varka, zhongli, and diluc x afab reader (separately) mdni

size kink with Varka has you laid bare beneath him completely at his mercy, large hands palm the soft flesh of your thighs spreading you open. Simultaneous using his bigger physique to easily fold you into the meanest mating press. Your eyes widened at the sheer depth it gives him, as if his cock wasn’t too much to handle before. The flush tip kisses your cervix with every relentless thrust gaining a choked moan from you. He has you exactly where he wants you, by the end of it you’re drooling over yourself. Utterly mind fucked as he pulls out thick blobs of his seed bubbling out of your used cunt.

size kink with Zhongli who props you up in front of a mirror, squeezed into a full nelson while glossed over eyes stare back at yourself. He presses the tip of his cock against your wet folds teasingly. A soft chuckle erupts from him as he slowly pushes his tip into the warmth of your walls. Ready to have his way with you when all you can do is be a good girl for him and watch yourself get absolutely ruined by the geo dragon himself.

size kink with Diluc who after a hard day at work wants nothing more than to let off some steam. Losing himself in the sweet embrace of your cunt clenching so lovingly against his cock. In times like this doggy style is his go-to having complete access to your plush ass. He loves to press his chest firmly against your back angling himself to bully that sweet spot of yours. Using his sheer size to cage you between him and the mattress while he whispers how you’re doing such a good job taking his cock.

art cred. @/errimyon on twt.

divider cred. @/ pixelprism on pintrst.

© @angelxchi 2026 don’t translate my work. put my work through ai. claim my work as your own.