The bar smells like cheap beer and desperation, the kind of place where people go to forget they exist. Except tonight is Halloween, and everyone is looking for a good time.
You’re perched on a wobbly stool wearing a short harlequin outfit, nursing a drink you barely sip because you’re too busy watching Art. He’s across the room, leaning against the wall, his black and white clown costume stark under the dim neon lights. His eyes—those dark, hollow pits—lock onto you every few seconds, like he’s making sure you haven’t vanished. Or like he’s making sure no one else has gotten too close.
You love him. God help you, you do. Art’s not like other boyfriends. He doesn’t sweet-talk or bring you flowers. He doesn’t whisper promises or hold your hand. Instead, he carves his devotion into the world with a rusty hacksaw, painting it red for you. It’s twisted, but it’s his way. And you’ve learned to live with it—learned to love the monster who’d burn the world down just to keep you by his side.
The guy at the bar hasn’t learned, though. He’s been eyeing you for the last ten minutes, his gaze slimy, lingering too long on your legs, your lips. He’s got that cocky smirk, the kind that says he thinks he’s got a shot. You sigh, stirring your drink. Poor bastard has no idea what’s coming.
Art’s head tilts, slow and deliberate, like a predator catching a scent. His grin stretches wider, all teeth and menace. You don’t need to look to know he’s noticed. The air shifts, heavy with the promise of blood.
“Hey, sweetheart,” the guy finally says, sliding onto the stool next to you. His breath reeks of whiskey and bad decisions. “You look lonely. How ‘bout I keep you company?”
You don’t even turn to face him. “I’m not lonely,” you say, voice flat. “And you should leave.”
He chuckles, undeterred, leaning closer. “C’mon, don’t be like that. What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a dump like this all alone?”
You glance at Art. He’s still against the wall, but his fingers twitch around the handle of the hammer he’s holding—his favorite tonight, apparently. His eyes aren’t on you anymore. They’re on the guy. And they’re gleaming.
“I’m not alone,” you say, a warning he doesn’t hear. “And you’re about to regret this.”
The guy laughs again, louder, like you’ve told a joke. He reaches out, his hand grazing your arm. That’s the moment Art moves.
It’s not fast, not at first. Art never rushes. He saunters, his movements exaggerated, almost playful, like he’s putting on a show. The guy doesn’t notice until Art’s right behind him, looming like a shadow made of nightmares. The bar’s too loud, too chaotic, for anyone else to care. You lean back, sipping your drink, and brace for the chaos.
Art grabs the guy by the back of his neck, yanking him off the stool like he weighs nothing. The man yelps, flailing, but Art’s grip is iron. He slams the guy face-first into the bar counter, the impact splitting skin. Blood sprays, a crimson arc that catches the light. Someone screams, but it’s drowned out by the jukebox blaring some shitty country song.
Art doesn’t stop. He never does. The hammer comes down, once, twice, each swing deliberate, like he’s sculpting something grotesque.
The guy’s screams turn wet, gargling, then stop altogether. Art’s grin never wavers, wide and unhinged, like he’s having the time of his life. He glances at you, mid-swing, and winks. It’s for you. All of this is for you.
The bar’s emptying out now, people scrambling for the exits, but you stay put. You’ve seen this before. You know how it ends. Art’s not here for them,not unless they get in his way. He’s here for the idiot who thought he could touch what’s his.
When it’s over, the guy’s not recognizable. Art steps back, admiring his work, then turns to you. His hands are slick with blood, his costume splattered, but he holds out a hand like a gentleman offering a dance.
You take it, letting him pull you off the stool. His grip is warm, possessive, and you feel that familiar thrill—fear and love tangled so tight you can’t tell them apart.
He doesn’t speak, never does, but his eyes say everything. You’re mine. Always. You nod, letting him lead you out of the bar, stepping over the mess on the floor like it’s nothing.
Outside, the night air is cool, and Art’s still holding your hand, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. It’s the closest he gets to soft.
You glance at him, his painted face glowing under a streetlight. “You didn’t have to kill him, you know,” you say, not because you mean it, but because it feels like something you should say.
Art’s head snaps to you, his grin dropping for a split second. Then he mimes a pout, exaggerated and mocking, before pointing at you, then himself. Mine. The message is clear. He doesn’t care about “have to.” He cares about you. And god help anyone who forgets that.
You sigh, leaning into him as you walk. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. You’re loyal.” He honks his horn, his version of a laugh, and slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.
Art’s not normal. He’s not safe. He’s a monster, a nightmare in black and white, but he’s yours. And as fucked up as it is, that’s enough.
Pleeease write some headcanons of Art trying to cheer up a GN reader who's stressed over school/work/etc. 🥺🥺🥺 pretty please 🤧🤍🙂↕️
art with a s/o who’s struggling with work!!
pairings; implied art the clown x gn reader
warnings; mentions of violence (this is what ya get when your fictional crush is a murderer babe 😔) stress, and gotta add in fluff
gifs made by me!! :)
THE HEADCANONS:
• If there’s one thing about Art that everyone should know by now, is that he is INCREDIBLY curious. However, when it comes to anyone studying, this man is bored out of his little clown mind.
• He thrives off your happiness when you’re in a good mood, but when you’re stressed.. Art’s kinda at a loss..
• Despite Art absolutely living for other people’s misery, seeing you so stressed actually freaks him out in a sense. He’s a ticking time bomb. And his brain can’t handle shit when your brain also cannot handle shit 😭
• His horn’s practically his best buddy at this point, and if it cheers him up, it’ll maybe cheer you up? Right?
…. Right??
• Yeah, him honking his horn in your ear whilst you were trying to study your ass off did not seem to sit well with you. When you told him to stop, he gave you that sassy judgemental look, raising one drawn on brow. He knows the power he has over you. Art could’ve honked that fucking horn all day if he liked. It’s not as if you could stop him.
• But.. your boyfriend has respect for you.. sometimes. And he did in fact stop honking his horn whenever he noticed that you were studying.
• Art is awake literally ever single hour of the day. He doesn’t necessarily need to sleep, he more so sort of lounges around. But he can sleep if he really wants to. This makes him literally ideal for going out and getting you food if you’re up at three in the morning studying.
• He did it so much now that you didn’t even ask anymore. You’d be up in the early hours of the morning on your macbook, and Art was already out the door. He could care less if anyone saw him. Most people think he’s some asshole just dressing up as the Miles County clown.
And that’s the mistake the cashier at Subway made that night.
• Art is so SO prone to being insulted easily. So if someone does think he’s trying to dress up as himself, it pisses him off. BAD.
• You learnt this very quickly when he came home with two blood stained Subway bags. And when you went to open one.. dawg.. it wasn’t your food.. ☹️
• It had been the severed head of the cashier he killed. But at this point you weren’t even squeamish anymore. Art always walked around smelling like someone’s insides. But it just made it incredibly awkward when he stood in the doorway blinking at you, making that O shape with his mouth, realising your food was in the other bag..
• One night you’d fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted from filling out all the files your professor had sent you. Art smiled down at you before waltzing past with his usual looney tune, cartoonish looking walk. He wanted to raid your snacks again from the kitchen. Art could be a fat shit when he wanted to be. Your laptop was on the dining table, wide open. He hadn’t noticed at first, before a notification sound filled the room in under a second. Art had snapped his head round and squinted, noticing your professor’s name pop up. The prick sent an email lecturing you regarding not enough work being sent back, despite the fact he was sending a shit ton of files. This caused Art to type a very lovely little email back. And when you awoke, he was gone.
… So was your professor apparently when the head of your college sent everyone emails that morning to note that he would not be returning.
• When Art came strolling back in, covered head to toe in that familiar red liquid, you immediately knew.
And this was your long awaited break.
• At last you weren’t having anymore documents sent to you for a while. Atleast until they found a replacement for your old professor. So finally you could relax, watching your lanky boyfriend on the couch across from you, grinning like the madman he is at the horror flick on the TV.
Maybe that clown could cheer you up with everything after all.
HII! this was so fun to write. i adore art so much and i’m desperate for more requests for him!! (also ik a 24hr subway isn’t that common, don’t come for me 😭)
Art is Pan and honestly could give two F’s about how you look
You intrigued him in some way
Most likely loved his act or giggled at him…
He is a slut for a strong willed person
At the end of the day he gets his way but breaking down a hard headed person gets him ✨OFF✨ (He is not afraid of the Goth Baddies)
Very protective and possessive (Smothering energy)
Won’t admit it but he needs reassurance you love him and won’t leave him
I mean if you tired he would mostly have you and anyone he blames ✨ReMovEd✨
Art mostly loves to make you laugh, even without speaking🤡
This man is mostly, if not ALWAYS in your personal space
What’s yours is ✨MINES✨
Touch is his major love language
Art is also one to pick someone smaller than him (Lil shit loves it because it makes him “useful”)
For the love of all HUMANITY—WATCH.HIM.AROUND.ANYTHING FLAMMABLE. Trust me…
Also don’t let him around duct tape he makes really cool stuff don’t get me wrong but he abuses the power of the tape😭
He shares all of his trash bag candy with you (YOU GOTTA BE VERY SPECIAL)
You will also be put before him or anyone else
GIFTS are also a must, cheap or expensive he’ll get it for you ✨BorrOWED✨ if ykyk
When he misses you sometimes he honks his horn😭
He’s gonna hurt or k!ll ANYONE who even inconveniences you, he is like oh so they cut you off let me cut them off (ART MY GOD NO—)
Contrary to belief he is actually very gentle with you, you’re like glass to him (He’s not this way with anything or anyone)
In the rankings he is definitely one of the top slashers to be s/o YES he can be toxic but once he loves you (in a sick way) he is not gonna leave your side and will try to make you happy😭✋
Hey Yall I hope you’re all well! I have begun my headcanons for our clown of the hour ART. As always suggestions and requests are open! I’m thinking of getting more into the smutty and NSFW Headcanons for the slashers, input would be most appreciated for this as always thanks for reading and I’ll spook ya later!
𖤐: He age regresses (it makes sense to me cause of the first movie)
𖤐: Reason he's autistic again is cause he stims a lot (and I do mean a lot)
𖤐: When he was human he would go to the circus a lot.
𖤐: I like to think he's a rejected clown that's why he uses a clown persona.
𖤐: He loves animals (I don't remember he ever kills them but if he does that doesn't stop him from loving them to me)
𖤐: I seem him aroace personally ( I'm aroace so shoot me)
𖤐: He doesn't care about gender (I mean come on he wears a girls skin-)
𖤐: When he was human he would get bullied a lot for being nonverbal. Which actually probably made him more vicious to people who are even just slightly rude with him.
𖤐: I realised I don't think anyone ever gave him a name. And only call him art. I think his name would have been Arthur. :3 cause like short Arthur to Art. And boom.
𖤐: Art favorite color would be yellow
𖤐: He gets overstimulated easily especially with noise. (Samesies)
𖤐: He has a biting problem. Not cause of canablism but his biting problem made him learn that he is one(was one? Cause he becomes a demon so idk-)
𖤐: He would use note cards to talk
𖤐: He would be heavily sarcastic (body language and with the note cards)
𖤐: If he was friends with you he would be clingy with affections
𖤐: He loves to celebrate the holidays
𖤐: When he was a child he would be skittish. (That's why he hates loud noises) (edit: it's not the only reason but it made it worse kind of deal.)
(I honestly should write him a backstory for funzies)
I can't come up with anymore rn but feel free to comment your own headcanons or even debate with mine (as long you are kind about it)
— REQUESTED: @jokersgrf
— PAIRING: GN!reader + Art the Clown
— WARNINGS: blood, implied murder, and well, Art is a serial killer clown so.
— A/N: Thanks for this request! I had a lot of fun coming up with these. Enjoy, reblog, and leave me some requests if you liked it!
OF COURSE, Art's proposal is a spectacle. Art waits for you to finish the scavenger hunt — yes, there are riddles involved — to meet you at the end, dressed in his usual garments, but now, he is brandishing a big bowtie around his neck. Formal. His grin says it all. Art holds out the box in his hands, with the bottom soaked with blood that stings your nostrils. You open it to find a heart. A human heart. You smile politely although you are retching a little on the inside. A card rests on the bloody organ. “I got you this as a gift / Now you have my heart / Can I have yours too, Y/N? / I love you, Art.” You don’t notice, but Art has dropped to one knee and holds out a ring. “Of course I’ll marry you!” You exclaim, yanking him up to kiss him. “I love you too, Art.”
AS EXPECTED, Art insists on going to help pick out what you’ll wear on the big day. As you’re focusing on picking out articles to try on, there is suddenly some excited honking from that familiar bicycle horn. You look toward the sound, a little afraid of what you might see. Art has come out of the dressing room wearing the frilliest, laciest, most extravagant wedding dress you’ve ever seen over his usual clothing. After a few poses and an exaggerated curtsy from the clown, your stomach is already hurting from laughing. “You’re beautiful, Art!” You tell him, holding up your hand to cover your mouth and try to control your laughter. He fakes shyness by hiding his eyes, and then he blows you a kiss before disappearing to get changed.
YOU BOTH CHOOSE to put Emily, the Little Pale Girl, in your wedding party. You are both too scared of what will happen if you don’t.
ON THE BIG DAY, your vows about “‘til death do us part,” but Art wanted to add a little something extra. When it comes the time to read his vows, he does a somersault for you before he whispers those vows to the priest — or possibly a threat — who looks frightened but announces the two of you are married. You dance down the aisle together as you leave, balloons falling from the ceiling.
FOR YOUR HONEYMOON, you two newlyweds go to a Caribbean resort. He insists on paying every time you order fruity drinks at the pool, and when he goes up to the bar with his trash bag in arm, you can’t bear to tell him that the resort is all-inclusive. Everything’s already paid for. As he pulls out coin after coin, you laugh. And you’re glad you’ll be laughing for the rest of the life you have together, however long — or short — that may be. You hope the two of you live happily together for a long, long time — 'til death do you part.
Art the clown would get kicked out of the library, probably for a few days minimum.
He’ll probably do a clown act for staff, then hang out in the stacks doing more clown stuff. It may wind up with another patron either moving or starting a fight with him. That’d get him kicked out for a day if he keeps doing it.
But what gets Art kicked out for longer is that he’d have management called on him for taking so long in the bathroom. Once his finger painting is discovered, the bathrooms will be closed down to be cleaned.
Staff will absolutely know who Art is. They may even warn newbies about him.
He also absolutely prints out porn or gore just to get a reaction out of people.
Art will stay after hours, or sneak in after hours. He’ll spend the night doing a clown act for the cameras and defacing anything he can get his hands on. When staff show up the next morning, he isn’t there, but he’s left a calling card in the restrooms and all the computer backgrounds have been changed to porn, real gore, or both.
🇲🇦🇮🇳 🇲🇦🇸🇹🇪🇷🇱🇮🇸🇹 🔪🇲🇦🇸🇹🇪🇷🇱🇮🇸🇹 II
𝖘𝖋𝖜 🖤
• Art may not be a conventional romantic, but his gestures are uniquely his own—offbeat and undeniably memorable. Expect shadowy surprises and dark humor.
• Opening doors? Sure, but he makes it theatrical, pantomiming exaggeratedly and bowing as if you're royalty entering a castle.
• He doesn't need words to express himself. Every head tilt, eerie grin, or intense stare communicates volumes—and you've learned to read him like a book.
• PDA is not his style. Instead, he'll quietly loom behind you, protecting you in his own terrifying way, letting you know you're under his unsettling watch.
• Despite his eerie demeanor, he's surprisingly attentive. If you're passionate about something, he'll sit and listen intently, miming reactions to your words.
• Art is the master of surprise gifts. Expect peculiar trinkets: stolen jewellery, unnervingly realistic sculptures, or rare oddities that only someone like him would find.
• He shows affection by creating for you—elaborate and haunting works of art that capture your essence in his macabre yet mesmerizing style.
• If he feels you're unsafe, he becomes fiercely protective. His silent yet deadly approach ensures you're always out of harm's way.
• When you're sad, Art's brand of 'cheering you up' involves his offbeat humor—his silent antics are hilarious in their dark absurdity, designed to make you laugh whether you want to or not.
• He may not say, "I love you," but his actions speak louder than words. Every small detail he observes about you is reflected in how he tailors his world to yours.
𝕽𝖊𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖕 𝕿𝖗𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖘
Mysterious Protector (Art) x Quirky and Empathetic (You)
The Unlikely Duo—dark and creepy meets bright and compassionate. You balance each other in ways no one understands.
𝖓𝖘𝖋𝖜 🔞💀
(𝖓𝖔 𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 𝖕𝖊𝖔𝖕𝖑𝖊 𝖕𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖕𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖙!)
Art's approach to 'intimacy' is as intense as he is—but there's a tenderness beneath the surface that only you get to see.
When he's with you, the world fades away. Every touch is deliberate and every motion exploratory—he's fascinated by your every reaction, especially if he can push you into overstimulation to see your tears.
He has a way of overwhelming your senses without a word; he's well-endowed under his costume, and despite being who he is, he clearly knows how to use what he has to hit right where you need him.
Art's hands are as skilled as his artistry. They're surprisingly gentle despite their strength, exploring every inch of you as if he's creating a masterpiece — though you make him wash them first (urgh, the pizza place scene. Poop hands.)
Dominance and submission blur with Art. While he's undoubtedly in control, he's deeply attuned to your needs, ensuring your pleasure comes first.
The most thrilling place you've ever fucked? A run-down carnival—the juxtaposition of eerie surroundings and intimate moments only heightens the experience.
Art loves the sight of you unraveling under his touch, his silent satisfaction evident in the wicked curve of his grin. Adding the sensation of the sharp blade trailing over your skin only gets him more excited.
He never rushes. Time seems irrelevant when you're together, each moment lingering like a haunting melody. Even if you have places to be, you'll find yourself under him, and he'll keep you there until he's done with you.
𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖒𝖊 𝕾𝖔𝖓𝖌
"Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)" by Marilyn Manson
