I saw the doll comic w/ Naku and I immediately had a thought of MC cuddling the doll for comfort and Naku feeling jealous. PlZ do this or just make a sequel, I Beg of U. Please
❄️Note❄️
-This comic contains personal interpretation
(quietly slides a picture out from the sewer entrance🕳️🖼️)
More Pierrot art! He's just really fun to draw for me atm! I really do like his design a lot, and my fyp being filled with all sorts of art of him isnt helping-
I'll probably be doodling more oc stuff though once I get their designs done
The freak circus does not belong to me, nor do any of the characters shown. Pierrot and any other characters mentioned belong to nekoboydreams here on tumblr. This a fanfic where Mc gets with Pierrot, Harlequin, and Doctor. Mc is also a werewolf but is gender nuetral despite the title.
Chains rattle around you as they hit the metal floor below. Your body aches as you stretch and feel bones pop and crack back into place. Reaching down you grasp the key around your neck. It's been a long night and now you just want to go home and finally eat something.
You're so hungry you could eat straight from the trash. Your stomach growls at the thought not finding it to bad of an idea. Unlocking the chain cuffs around your wrists and ankles you stand up free at last. Stretching one more time you hear your back pop and let out a sigh of relief. You can finally stand up straight after being hunched over on the floor all night. You don't remember anything after transforming but the ache from being chained to the ground always gets to you.
Going to a set of lockers you open one grabbing your clothes and putting them on. Don't want to walk around naked in this cold bunker any more than you have to.
Yawning you head out of the room making sure to leave your chain key in the locker. The hallway is long with a faded blue sky and clouds painted all the way down. The concrete walls stay dingy despite how much Carol cleaned them. Passing by a door with a towel under it you notice the sign on it has fallen down again. Looking around, you find the card board sign that says "DO NOT OPEN MOLD" in big red letters. You stick it back to the door, the old duct tape holding on to it for dear life. You've got to remind your boss, Nathanal, to buy more so you can retape it back to the door.
You continue on your journey to the restroom across the hall, your boots clack on the 70s tile as you head straight for the sinks across the back wall. Turning on the middle sink, you begin to brush your teeth and wash your face. You'll shower at the cafe when you get there.
You won't shower here anymore not after everything that happened. But brushing your teeth isn't too bad as long as you ignore the broken two way mirror over the sinks.
You shiver at the thought, knowing there's still one in the shower room. You have no idea how Carol can shower here but then again she's always been more braver than you. Looking at your broken reflection you contemplate the last few years for a moment wondering if this is all life will ever be for you. You try to push those thoughts away as you turn off the sink and dry your face.
Finishing up you finally collect your things heading out of the underground bunker. Making sure to relocked the chain outside so no one trespasses. The last time you left without doing so Natanael, your boss, gave you the disappointed dad look. Even the thought of the older man's disappointment makes shame rise in you again.
Walking out you notice bosses car is gone along with Carol's Honda. They probably woke up before you and didn't want to disturb you after last night. The moon cycle is rough on all of you but they know it's the hardest on you.
You briefly wonder where old Mac is, but figure he's probably at the lake fishing or hitched a ride to town with Natanael.
Grabbing your bike, you hop on and begin the long ride back to town. Or well as you've been told by many on the internet you actually live in a small city. As you make your way to the cafe, the woods begin to thin till there's only buildings. The city buzzes around you as other people go about their day.
Once you are a few blocks from the cafe, you decide to walk the rest of the way. Getting off your bike you begin your short walk to the brown brick building. Your almost there when you hear a commotion happening further down the street. It's past the cafe so you plan to just ignore it but once you get closer you notice a familiar figure.
Fliers litter the street around a red clad clown and standing over him is none other than big bad Rue. The older man was similar in age to Old Mac. You felt bad for the clown as he laid there with Rue shouting at him like a drill Sargent. After chaining your bike to the rack in front of the cafe you head toward the commotion. Planning to deescalate the confrontation as much as you could. The last thing you want is for Rue to kill someone in broad daylight.
Walking closer to them you begin to hear Rue better. He's shouting asking where she is. You know Rues daughter went missing a few days ago but why's he blaming it on the circus? They just blew into town not to long ago so how could they be responsible for her going missing.
"Don't lie bastards I can smell her on you! I swear I'll fuckin kill you if you don't start talkin'!" Rue shouts getting closer to the clown who cowers on the ground. The sad tears painted on his mask making him look even more pitiful than he already is. You hear Rue growl as he gets ready to whale on the poor guy.
"Rue Stop!" You yell running over to get in between the two. If you don't stop him now Rues gonna tear the clown to pieces. "I don't know what's got you so railed up but killing some random guy won't solve anything." You say shielding the clown with your body. While you don't want to get hit by the old wolf, you can take a hit better than the red clown on the concrete. Though knowing Rue he probably has already hit the poor guy and given him a concussion. Anymore hits and the red clown will be dead for sure.
Rue says your name with true pain in his voice. "He took her. He took my daughter!" The girl was all the old man had left of his late wife so it makes sense why he's so upset. "Okay I understand that but, Rue you know to go to the police first." I try to reason with him. He might be the angriest werewolf you've met but he's not unreasonable.
Till now that is.
Rue looks at you like you just killed his daughter. The betrayal in his blood shot eyes says it all. "I should've known a bitch like you would agree with these freaks. But I guess it makes sense for a cripple like you!"
"Watch it!" You growl, only to feel a fist meet your face. You feel warm blood trinkle down your face from your nose as you immedately grab Rues arm pushing it out of the way so you can hit the old man back. Your fist connects to his face hearing a loud crack. Rue stubles back as you release him spitting some blood to the ground. He huffs and lets out a manic laugh simliar to someone you once knew. "Oh now your gonna get it little wolf." He laughs preparing to charge you.
In trying to avoid a fight starting you ended up in one yourself. It's no secret you basically have no sense of smell and basic human hearing despite being a werewolf. But can they really blame you, who wants to eat innocent people just to be stronger?
Werewolves don't need to eat humans, but they do so anyway for more power. Most judge you for not wanting to eat humans but you don't need to. You're more than strong enough to handle Rue regardless of how sturdy the old wolf is.
Just as you're about to punch Rue a whistle sounds breaking up the confrontation. "Alright break it up!" An officer appears making the crowd disperse as they address Rue. "Alright Rue don't make me put you in the drunk tank so early." They tell the old man. Rue just scoffs and spits "I hope those animals get you to." He stalks off probably to loose himself in alcohol.
You feel bad for him but he's still an asshole. And what's up with calling them animals?
"The pots calling the kettle black old bastard." You huff wiping the blood off your nose. Telling the officer you'll help the clown you turn to face him, only to see the red clad jester has disappeared.
The only thing indicating he was there are the fliers still scattered everywhere. Strange, but running while your attacker is distracted is a common reaction to getting assaulted.
Shrugging you head back to the cafe a little later than usual. But it's not like Nathanal will lecture you for being late by a few minutes.
You enter through the back door walking straight into the employee locker room. Carol is there on her phone, taking her 12 o'clock break. "You're late." She comments no malice in her voice. The unspoken question asking why hangs in the air as you head to you locker.
"Had to stop Rue from killing some poor street clown." You say taking off your clothes and putting them in your locker. "Ha sounds like a usual morning for that crackpot!" Carol snarks before focusing on her phone again. Grabbing a towel off a nearby rack you enter the shower room and take a quick one.
When you come out Carol is gone and the locker room is empty besides a sandwich in a plastic baggy on the bench Carol sat on. Smiling you pick it up knowing Carol left it for you. She always did stuff like this for you and the others after rough nights, even Rue got some of her little gifts every now and then. You put on your cafe uniform and head out immediately getting to work serving tables.
The day is uneventful as you work alongside Carol. She tells you all about some guy she's been meeting up with for the past week. You're skeptical about all the good things she's telling you, considering her previous track record. But she keeps insisting he's a real gentlemen. But you'll believe it when you see it.
"I'm serious this guy has to be the one!" She cries out trying to convince you of his good nature. "Yeah that's what you said about Chad and yet I still had to give him the thumb screw." You say as you look at the strange fog on one of the cafe windows. It looks like some kid fogged it up then drew hearts on it. But it's way too high up to be a little kid maybe a teenager did it?
"Chad was a mistake, he acted nice but really he was just a narcissist." She says wiping down the counter after a spill earlier. Knowing Carol this guy was no good, but she'd give him a chance if he just gave her flowers once. She was too nice to guys that didn't deserve it.
"Plus, he's saying all the right things and even opens doors for me! We're going on a date tonight." She tells you an excited pitch to her voice. "Really C?" You walk over to the counter and lean in to whisper. "The peak of the waning moon was just last night. Are you sure you aren't just 'bitey'?" She looks offended at the insinuation.
"No and even if I was I'm perfectly capable of controlling myself. I'm not moon crazy if that's what you think!" She huffs going back to work. But you know she's thought about moon madness ever since the incident no matter how many moons it's been. "Hey C I'm sorry you know I'm just looking out for you." You say guilt eating at you. She's silent for a long moment before letting out an emotionless "I know." not looking at you.
You reach out to her but pull away instead focusing on taking the last few customer orders for the day. Eventually Carol leaves wanting to dress up for her date. Your boss let's her once you promise to take her shift. You still feel guilty for asking if she's just moon crazy. You're the last one who even should be asking anyone that.
You pick up stray fliers around the cafe. With how many you've had to pick up over the past week you're contemplating making a no fliers sign. Nathanal huffs "I'm sick of ripping those flyers off my window, don't let anyone hand them out in here." You nod agreeing with the sentiment.
Soon after Carol leaves the bell rings above the door. In walks a well dressed man in a blue suit, he sits down at a table in the corner. Likely because it's the quietest and most secluded spot in the cafe. He doesn't strike you as a customer to be very talkative. Grabbing a menu you head over only for the man to ask for a simple black coffee.
Well that makes your job easy.
You make him a black coffee quickly and bring it over. Apologizing for the wait you go to throw away the fliers only for the man to stop you. He offers to recycle it for you since he'd hate to see good paper just end up in the trash.
"Well that would be a better use for it." You hand him the small stack you gathered thanking him.
"Ah it's no problem. Tell me have you been to the circus?" He asks looking at the black and white fliers in his hands. "No I'm sorry if you wanted a recommendation but can't say I've ever visited The Freak Circus. Though it's horror themed if you like that kind of stuff." You say surprised he wants to make small talk.
He gives a slight laugh which doesn't sound quite right. Honestly nothing about this guy remotely looks even right to begin with. His skin looks too tight around his face and half of it always seems shadowed no matter which way he turns. It's odd but you figure he probably just had some plastic surgery or something.
"Oh no I've already been actually. I was wondering if you'd be interested in going since they cater to adults." He looks you up and down as he says this.
"No, I'm not really interested. I see enough scary shit on a daily basis. Though it's messed up how badly people have been treating the circus clowns." You think back to the red jester you helped as you say this.
Hopefully, he's alright after taking that hit from Rue. The man is old, but he's still a werewolf. Plus, the waning moons peak was just yesterday. In a few days, the moon will be full, and a hit that feels like a bag of bricks will feel like a semi truck. "People tend to treat things they don't understand harshly. That's just how the world works." The man says bitterly pessimistic.
"Yeah, you got a point but that still doesn't justify beating them up. Just this morning I had to stop a guy from killing one of the clowns handing out fliers." You tell him making the man give you an astonished look. Well when one is pessimistic of the world even small acts of kindness must seem amazing.
"Is that so?" He asks you almost in disbelief.
"Yeah a red clown was about to get the breaks beat off him and everyone was just standing around! Though I didn't get a chance to talk to him because he disappeared before I could make sure he was alright…" You trail off the blue clad man now giving you a strange look. "I know getting in-between something like that is dangerous. But if you saw how miserable that red clown looked you'd have stepped in too." You nervously scratch your cheek feeling the mans creepy blue eyes bore into you. He's looking at you like your some rare animal on display at a zoo.
"…" He's silent for a moment, probably thinking about how dumb you were. He finally says something making surprise raise in you. "That's a really commendable trait, humanity could do with more people like you." He straightens his already pristine suit before reaching into his inner jacket pocket.
"I was actually gonna offer this extra ticket I had." He says holding up a ticket for the circus that just arrived in city. "I'm leaving town soon so unfortunately I won't be able to use it. But maybe you could put it to some use?" He holds out the blue ticket to you. "That's also a special ticket it will give you front row seats to all shows." He says with the tone of someone offering a charity donation.
"Are you sure? This seems really expensive." You were never one to take free gifts. You just never felt like you were worthy of such things especially after…
The man cuts off your thoughts his firm voice bringing you out of your train of thoughts. "It's alright, consider it a gift for helping that…clown this morning." He simply says taking a sip of his black coffee. He's so nonchalant about it you almost feel like taking the ticket is okay.
"Well at least let me pay for your coffee and anything else you order." You say placing the ticket in your pants pocket. Your sure this ticket is worth more than a cup of coffee and some pastries. But it's the least you can do in exchange.
"That's very kind of you." He says going back to drinking is coffee. The bell rings signaling a new customer arriving, turning you see old Mac enter the cafe.
The tall grisly looking old man goes to his usual spot by the front windows. Already knowing his order you go to fix him a frappe which is funny considering how rugged he looks. But there's something extra sweet about an old burly man liking a sugary drink usually reserved for Instagram girls.
Bringing it over you set it down gently. "Heard you and ol'Rue got into it earlier." He says not at all surprised. "Old boy came to my fishin spot hooting and hollering about how disrespectful the youth are." He takes a sip of his frappe some whip cream getting on his beard.
You scoff. "Old man called me a slur cause I stopped him from killing someone." Mac isn't the leader of your little pack. But his word is just as valid as bosses. He's not headstrong like Rue is. As long as you explain yourself Mac won't rip you a new one for causing trouble.
The old man nods. "I figured it wasn't just you trying to start something. You're a prickly one but if people leave ya be they won't get stung." Taking a breath you leave Mac to his evening coffee.
Cleaning the counter with a wet rag you get lost in thought.
Honestly you hope Rue doesn't try to start something again. The dark side of you wants to beat him to a pulp. The thought of his blood staining the ground makes some sick part of you feel satisfied. It's times like this you remember why you hate being a werewolf. The need for bloodlust and violence always made you shy away from your wolf.
You know it's always been a part of you even before becoming a werewolf. Remembering the fights you used to get in as a kid that would leave you battered and bloody. The curse just amplified those thoughts and emotions you already had. But that doesn't mean you have to accept it.
You don't even have to indulge it just contain it.
Hearing the bell ring again you notice most of the cafés customers have left for the evening. The only ones left now are Boss and Old Mac. "We're closing up early since Carol left." Your boss, Nathanal tells you. His voice gentle with an undertone of command. "I'm gonna drive Mac back home and I want you back before 8 got it?" He's always been more gentle with you and Carol since the both of you are so much more younger. But he's still firm with his words and guidance.
You nod giving him a yes sir before turning the open sign to close. It's not too long after that you hear them both leave out the front door.
Alone at last you start putting chairs on the tables and mopping the floors. Just as you finish mopping the lights cut off.
A faint jiggle of the bell is heard making you snap your head in the direction of the front door. It swings open and closed gently as if someone just entered but no one stands in it.
On high alert you look around able to see in the dark slightly better than most. You see nothing but the dark tables glinting in the soft moonlight. Calmly you walk over to the fuse box being careful not to slip on the still wet floors. Once the lights are on you sigh in relief turning only to be startled by a tall red figure standing by the counter. You gasp and stumble at the sight of him.
You feel your heart beat hasten as you slip on the damp floor below you. "Ahhh!" You shout as you begin to fall to the ground.
But suddenly you feel warm arms wrap around you. One holds your waist and the other supports your head in a firm grip. Startled you begin to struggle only for the arms to get tighter. Pushing on the person's chest you finally look up at them.
Staring into golden yellow eyes you realize the person holding you is the clown from this morning. He has a panicked look on his face. Or mask? You can't really tell if it's a mask or just caked on makeup. But the alarmed look in his eyes is obvious as he looks down at you. The faint smell of blood is also in the air as you notice flecks of red in his hair.
Did Rue do that? You didn't get a chance to look at him this morning. Because he left before you could get a good help him up.
"You? How did you get in here?" You ask though quickly realize you didn't lock the front entrance yet. "Never mind don't answer that." You quickly add. He probably entered as you turned the lights on the tension making you miss the bell ringing.
He tilts his head worry melting into confusion. It's then you realize you're basically being cradled by a stranger. "Umm could you maybe let me go bud?" You nervously mumble.
His face goes as red as his jester uniform before he sets you on your feet. It's then you realize how big he is compared to you. He's big enough he could probably hold you comfortably in his arms if he wanted. Though you note he's not as big as your werewolf form.
His long arms gently release you though he hesitates. Probably because the floor still has a few wet spots.
He's oddly sweet despite his scary appearance.
Now that you have a good look at him you note he looks odd. His arms and fingers are long nearly reaching past his hips. His chest and shoulders are also wider than normal. Maybe he was a competition swimmer in the past. You remember seeing a few matches on TV and most of them had a similar body type. Though none were as tall as him most having a long waist instead of legs.
All this in addition to his height make him almost look like a creature pretending to be human. Dang these guys have some great costumes you can see why people find them scary.
"Hey um I'm not supposed to let you stay in here but I could give you some first aid for your injury." You say gesturing to his head. It's not like you have to worry about him being a burglar. The register is emptied for the night and who would steal coffee?
Though eating a burglar would make your night better…
His eyes get wide looking like you just hung the stars. He nods vigorously looking like a big kid. "Alright big guy sit right there and I'll be back in a sec." You chirp pointing at the bar stool in front of the counter.
Going to the back you quickly retrieve the first aid kit you all use for emergencies. When you come back the jester is still seated at the counter. He kicks his feet while folding a stray flier. "Hey could you not hand out any fliers if you come in? The big boss is a little peeved about them." You say as you set the first aid kit on the counter.
The clown nods again before going back to his origami. You take out the rubbing alcohol and put some on a clean rag. "This is gonna hurt so you can hold my hand if you want. But please try to stay still." He takes your free hand in his almost immediately. His hand gently running his claws over the back of your hand.
Taking the rag you begin cleaning his wound. As you clean the blood you notice it's already clotted over. Someone must've threw a glass bottle on him or something. That's not surprising considering how on edge the city has been for a few years now.
What's strange though is how still he is as you work. You don't even think he's breathing as you carefully dab at his wound. Finally you pull away from him and tell him you're finished. Pulling out a pink cat band-aid you hand it to him.
"It's not much but you probably shouldn't expose that to the open air. His eyes sparkled once more as he takes the band-aid from you. He holds it to his chest and nods once more.
His eyes are so expressive though you suppose that's normal for someone who doesn't speak like him.
"You're not much of a talker are you? Can you not speak or do you just not like to?" You say pointing to your own throat making the sign for mute. He hesitates for a second glancing around. It's as if he's scared of anyone else seeing him in this empty cafe. If anyone should be worried it's you considering you're supposed to be closing down not clowning around.
"I cannot be seen speaking." He whispers with a horse voice clearly not used to talking. The sound of it makes you flinch not expecting him to speak. He gets a worried look having clearly picked up on it and seems to shrink in on himself for some reason.
"Wow I thought you were selectively mute! So it’s part of your act then?! That's amazing how dedicated you are!” You exclaim now making the red clown jump. His eyes grow comically wide as his face grows red once more. You wonder how his mask is able to be so expressive. Maybe it's one of those new robotic ones that changes expressions.
While you ponder his mask the clown speaks up his voice now less scratchy. “Yes, my dear.” he replied with a small nod causing his bells to jingle slightly. “I sincerely appreciate all your help. It's a pleasure to meet you.” He puts his hand to his chest giving you a little bow.
"My dear? How old are you?" You giggle at the nickname finding it a bit old school. Plus his way of speaking reminds you of how an old person would talk. "You almost sound like my grandfather!" You laugh only to freeze once you see his face.
He looks like you just kicked his mother. His eyes water and a stary tear trickles down his mask. "Y-you don't like it?" His quiet voice quivers, making you feel awful for making fun of him.
"Well, I guess you can call me that if you want! I didn't mean that, it's just that no one's ever called me something so nice like that before. So I don't really know how to act! And you know what? I should stop talking!" You say quickly, suddenly feeling self-conscious along with the guilt. You really know how to ruin everything. The guy is probably still feeling bad about what Rue did this morning, and you just had to rub salt into his wounds.
"Please keep speaking." Pierrot says, gently taking your hand in his much larger one. Wait when did he get so close to you?
Now it's your turn to be flustered as the big clown leans in closer. "Please my de-" he stops himself before continuing. "Your voice is one of a kind."
“Okay." You whisper lost in his bright yellow eyes. You hum before telling him your name. "And you can call me your dear if you want, it's actually really cute." You say looking away biting your lip. "Please ignore what I said earlier I'm just a spazz sometimes." You laughing out nervously.
When you look away you miss the lovestruck look on the clowns face in front of you. His eyes turn to hearts as a bit of drool drips down his face. Releasing your hand reluctantly he wipes his mouth. He mumbles a soft "I know." Before hiding it with a gentle laugh at how adorable you are.
The sound of his raspy laugh catches your attention. Now with your eyes on him, he reaches down taking his craft from earlier into his gloved hand. "Thank you my dear." He holds out the freshly made paper flower to you. "I am the Pierrot."
“A Pierrot?” You question taking the paper flower. You look him up and down, not seeing any similarities to the sad pierrot clown doll you have. Besides his mask, he looks more like a jester than anything. “Thank you for the flower, but you don’t really look like a pierrot clown.” You tell him feeling the folds of the paper rose with your scarred fingers.
“Indeed, you are right, my dear,” he said with a faint tilt of his head now smiling wide. “We were required to modernize our attire. But my role remains unchanged.”
The more you look at him the more you think back to this morning. Remembering Rues infuriated face and manic raving. “Mhh yeah and Pierrot I'm sorry for how Rue treated you this morning.” You pick at the flower as you look at the tall clowns smile turn into a frown at the mention of the old man. "I know it's not an excuse but ever since his daughter went missing the old bastards been on edge. It's not right he took that frustration out on you but you at least deserve an answer." You say fiddling with the flower in your hand. "Honestly ever since the murders in the 80s this whole cities been on edge…" You trail off the warm mood now growing cold.
You see flecks of blood on your nails from cleaning Pierrots wound. You want so badly to lick it off them but the human part of you holds yourself back.
You're not some blood thirsty beast who can't control themselves.
“I suppose we may appear a touch… uncanny,” He admitted. “Though if such awful things happened here, I can see why others would find us unsettling.” His gentle voice brings you out of your glum mood. Shaking those dark thoughts out of your head, you focus back on the red performer in front of you.
“Do the pink pierrots out on the street with flyers perform too?” You ask curiously.
“Indeed, the circus has but a small cast. We both perform and hand out flyers." His expression gets dark for a second. "Though I must say, I am the only Pierrot, my lady. The others are Jester and Harlequin.” He nearly spits out the word Harlequins as he clenches his fist in restrained anger.
Harlequin must be a sore spot for him. You're more familiar with the look of clown archetypes rather than the stories behind them. But this irritation doesn't seem like a part of the act to you. Maybe the two are ex-lovers who now just work together. Or just friends who had a bad falling out. Whatever the case may be it must not be too bad since they still work together.
Glancing at the clock you notice the time realizing the others will worry if you're out too late. “Thank you for the flower Pierrot.” You say feeling a bit sad to cut your conversation short. “And sorry to say this, but we can’t stay too long here. I have to get home to my pac-roommates.” You say stumbling over the word roommates.
The clown doesn't seem to pick up on this as he stands up from his chair. Towering over you once more he reaches into his pants pocket.
Of course, my dear though, before we go our separate ways I would like to give you one more gift.” He says to you gently holding a bright red ticket in his clawed grasp. "Please accept this small token of my appreciation.” He adds seeming to get nervous all of a sudden.
“A ticket?” You say taking it. “Ahh There’s no need. I already have one.” You then take out the blue one the stranger from earlier gifted you. "A nice man came in earlier and offered me this after I told him what happened this morning!" If you had a nickel for every time someone offered you a free circus ticket you'd have two nickels! It's not a lot but it's weird it happened twice in one day.
You notice that his expression shifts to something between shock and worry. Before you can question him he steps closer to you leaning down so he can whisper almost urgently. "My dear please promise me you will only use my ticket and no other."
You furrow your brows not understanding why he cares so much about a ticket. "Okay if it means that much to you I'll just use yours…" Well it won't hurt to indulge the clown who seems so hell bent on repaying you. No matter how strange he acts.
“I assure you,” He starts his soft voice becoming cheerful again. “I’ll make you smile during my performance.” He grins showing a mouth full of sharp teeth. Once again you marvel at how cool his costume is. Your gonna have to ask how he makes even his teeth look so spooky and realistic. "Alright now seriously it's time to go!" You exclaim with a grin on your face. Leading him to the door you open it for the tall clown. Watching him slightly duck as he leaves the building.
“I understand completely. I hoped to arrive earlier, but I did not wish to cause you distress, my dear.” He says sounding like an old timey lover before giving you one last nod.
“It’s alright,” You say waving to him. “This way was better after all now I know you wouldn’t have been able to answer me in public. I'll see you at the circus tomorrow if I can get off early enough.”
“That is true,” he agreed. “Have a good night, my dear.” Finally, he turns going off into the night.
“Good night Pierrot and please stay safe!" That's the last thing you say before closing the door and locking it. Now finally able to close up the cafe for real.
Had you stayed and watched Pierrot you would've noticed him duck into the alleyway beside the cafe. You would've seen him bend over salivating at the thought of speaking to you. You would've witnessed how he waited for you to leave the cafe. Watching the door in excitement at the thought of following you.
And perhaps you would've smelt the pink poison in his pocket.
But instead you finish cleaning up noticing a crumbled up piece of red paper on the linoleum floor. Cleaning it up you notice it's a paper flower similar to the one Pierrot gave you. Only this one was red and soaked in a familiar scent. Smelling the wrinkled flower you catch the faint hint of copper and sugar.
Gulping you take in another whiff realizing it's Pierrots blood. He must've gotten some on another flower and lost it when he saved you from falling on the floor. Now it makes sense why he was quickly making a flower when you got the first aid kit.
Well it's not like he needs this flower and you already have the white one he made you. Taking a quick glance around you turn back to the paper flower. With one bite you eat it devouring the poor thing whole. His blood is sweet with the slight irony tang all blood had. You moan at the taste finding it delicious as the dried blood touches your taste buds.
How long has it been since you tasted blood on your lips? How long has it been since you truly felt even a slight bit satisfied?
Too many moons to count have passed since you got a taste of something so divine.
Swallowing the blood soaked paper flower you head to the back locker room to get changed. It's a long bike ride home and your already late for dinner…
But at least by then you'll have calmed down enough for no one to notice.
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One little wolf fought at the market
One little wolf should've stayed home
One little wolf had a hot date
One little wolf had no breaks
And One little wolf went "Woo, Woo, Woo" all the way home!
Mc and Rue are two honey badgers trying to square up.
Mac is the old wise man whose seen too much
Carol is the young naïve girl
Boss is the man who works and never stops cause he has a pack to run
And together they make a little pack of wolves
Though one wolf is dead and the others missing
I hope you enjoyed my characters and take on Carol. She still has unresolved trauma unlike my other stories Carol. Comments, theories and critique are always welcome. :3
Design-wise, I thought it would be fun to mimic the drips in his mask throughout coloring too!
I also love the idea that if hungry/overwhelmed/stressed the spots on his hands drip ink, which means he washes a LOT of those white gloves. That, combined with him being very particular and neat, would make for an interesting annoyance on his end I'm sure! (But also: Ink smears occasionally left on MC when he loses a bit of control -u- )
Drawing this took me quite a while, so Pierrot’s appearance changes a bit throughout it 😭.
The idea was inspired by the official AMA
Harlequin really can trick Pierrot every single time. And as a non-native English speaker, I honestly sympathize with him 😭 I mean at least “eggs” has suspicious implications in multiple languages, but “🥧” genuinely feels like a perfectly innocent dessert name 😅
If this gets 500+ likes, I’ll draw the sequel where Pierrot finds out what “creampie” actually means :3
Jester x F!reader (pierrot x reader if you squint)
TW: bondage, cockwarming, exhibitionism, p in v, hard sex, creampie, Jester is a cunt (shocking), Dom/sub dynamics, petnames, sad(?) ending, possible part 2(idk)
The Jester reviews his document with a silent hum, his eyes scanning the document rapidly before setting it aside and taking another one.
The movement makes you whine.
"Shhh, don't move, pet. I need to stay focused." He simply answer, a clawed hand caressing the back of your head absent-mindedly.
You huff through your nose, muffled by the gag.
'Don't move. Don't be distracting. Don't moan too loud. Ect.' You'd like to see him in your place, contorted in his purple bounds, naked on his lap, unable to move or cover yourself.
He leans forward to sign and stamps that document, again, making you mewl, drooling all over the gag.
He tuts.
"How hard can it be, little pet?" He grins meanly at you, displaying his sharp teeth.
You gulp, the vision of his teeth, pearly white and sharp.
How would it feel having them sink into your flesh?
Claiming you to the eyes of the world?
That would be… Nice. You think.
"Be a doll, would you? I have a lot of work."
You sigh, resting your head on his shoulder in defeat, feeling sweat rolling down your skin. You can barely move a muscle without it contracting your pussy around his cock.
He chose that position exactly for that.
Cause he's just a maniacal sadist psychopathic control freak.
"Oh, you are trembling? Is something not to your taste, perhaps?" He taunts.
You hiss,biting on the gag.
What a mean man. He knows you want more, you crave more.
More of him.
More of his deranged affection.
You want him ravaging you and breaking your mind entirely. He can use his hypnosis if he so wants. He can annihilate your soul for all you care, now.
You just want him and his twisted love embracing you and warming you up.
You were still well adjusted some week ago still, and now… Now your own mother would disavow you.
He pulls on the leash to pull you off him and look at your flustered face.
"Ah, and now you are crying." He mocks with a snigger, "You puzzle me, pet. You came in here, begging for some of my time, and now that I gave you a premium seat, you cry?"
You gulp, refraining a sob. This is all just too much. Too much.
You want his voice, you want him silent. You want him out of you, you want him thrusting into you. You want to hug him, you want to slap him across the face. You want to kiss his mouth, you want to abandon him here… You want all of him and disappear of the surface of the earth.
He cups your face and licks your tear off your cheek with a purr.
"This is a taste I could get addicted to." He notes, half singing, "So what's wrong, my pet? What can I do to make you more comfortable?"
You whine and struggle on his lap, hands bound behind your back, forced in a fetal position.
"Ah, you want more of me and my cock? Pervert." He mocks.
You roar through the gag, getting annoyed and out of your mind.
"Alright, I am feeling magnanimous tonight. I can grant you that privilege." And he starts tapping his feet.
The movement makes you bob up and down on his girth ever so little, but in with your skin so thin and your nerves exacerbated right now, this is doing a lot.
"Look at me when I please you, pet." He orders, tilting your chin to force you to face him.
The jolts of pleasure courses your entire, stiff body, your pussy aching for more, reveling in his generosity. He slouches on his chair with his mean smirk, appreciating his work on you, his little, fragile pet, all vulnerable and open for him.
"You drool all over yourself, naughty girl." He bites, wiping a side of your jaw with his gloved thumb before sucking on it, "You're lucky I appreciate you."
You moan out loud, throat dry, as your cunt spasms around his length like it was trying to swallow it entirely, like it could even go any deeper than that! You can feels his warm tip nudged deep inside your core, leaking profusely, getting mixed with your essence, dripping on his black pants.
"I forgot to tell you, Bil is supposed to visit." Jester drops out of nowhere.
You almost choke on your gag, looking at him absolutely horrified, tensing up your entire body in a fight or flight response. You struggle on his lap, trying to leave, even if you have to cave your face into the ground.
A choreography of movement that seems to please your clown a good amount.
"Mmh…" He sighs with satisfaction, "That's the kind of actions I like. You, helpless and at my entire mercy, struggling to escape while kneading my cock so right." He bites his lower lips as his pupils turns into deviant purple hearts, "I should have claimed you way sooner."
You shake your head, trying to fall for good by balancing your body left and right, and if you cave your face in, so be it. You have been perverted, lusting after that monster, but you're not that far gone yet.
"Keep agitating yourself, pet. It only heightens my sensations."
And he resumes his foot tapping, driving you absolutely crazy. You can't allow yourself to be seen naked or cumming in public, this is not you, not the kind of woman your are…
"Ah, Ticket Taker. Come in." the Jester calls behind your back.
You freeze dead, horrified by the situation.
He… He is playing with you. This is just a sick joke.
Yes, ha ha. Of course, it is.
Jester wouldn't really do that… Would he?
"Thank you Jester, I just came here for… My greetings, visitor." Bil's stern and ever professional voice resonates behind you.
Your stomach drops so low, you actually think it evacuated your organism. Yet it is perfectly in place.
"Pet?" Jester teases, "You respond to a greeting when you are a polite girl. Should I teach you manners too?"
You rise crying eyes to your demon partner, begging, pleading for him to put an end to this comedy.
He hits the ground harder suddenly, worsening the shocks spreading into your pussy, forcing you to mewl against your will.
"There. Good girl." He pats your head condescendingly, "What did you wanted Bil?"
As quickly as it appeared, his playful, albeit mean, expression vanish for a professional one, his cheerful and sadist tone melting into a stern one.
Like you were not even here, bobbing on his cock like a sex toy for his sick pleasure.
No.
Always in control, nothing escapes his suffocating grip and he has absolute authority over anyone entering his domain. A man of control and restraint, also capable of terrible deviance and acts of perversion so degrading they intoxicate you to the depths of your lungs, poison your bloodstream and captivate your mind.
As humiliating as it is, you are forced to reckon with the fact that, for better and mostly for worse : you are in love with the Jester.
And you have the absolute certainty that he will be your end, in one way or another.
"I am here for the bills."
Jester lowers back his gaze on his desk, grabbing a folder and handing it to his henchman.
"Here." He says smiling at his old friend, while keeping you fucking yourself stupid on his fucking erection.
You try to keep quiet, and gather the little dignity Jester didn't yet torn from you. But of course he wouldn't be satisfied with that. He decides to pinch your ass cheek with his free hand, making your yelp out loud like a bitch in heat.
"I cannot really move, as you can see. You'll have to come closer, Bil." Jester informs the other man.
That's it.
You want to die.
And to kill him too, that bastard.
"… I see." Ever the stoic, Bil approaches.
Each steps resonates like a second closer to a pillory. You press your head on Jester's chest, turning your face away from Ticket Taker while he gets closer.
"Don't look so confused, Bil. She can't bite you, I made sure of that before you came."
He keeps slapping the floor, forcing undignified and lewd moan out of you, his tip hitting deep inside of you.
"Thank you,, Jester. I shall leave you with your… Company."
"I will be busy and unavailable tonight. Wait for tomorrow morning if you have reclamations for the bills."
"Understood."
You gulp, hearing the footsteps walking away, depriving you of all your energy.
You're not meant for that kind of stress.
"I can feel your heartbeat through my tip, pet. This is a delicious sensation." The man of your nightmares and dreams whispers oh so lowly in your ear, "But I want more now that my duties are done."
And without any warning, he grabs your butt to lift you up and put you on his desk. He unhooks the bounds of your stiff legs and opens your thighs wide for him, allowing him to gaze and observes you in your complete nudity, preventing you from modestly covering yourself to his piercing gaze.
Cunt and breast exposed, his for the taking.
For him to feast and relish of your flesh.
"What a sight, my little pet. You are shaking all over from so little…" He jabs, "So reserved, yet so ready to be corrupted. You are a joy for my eyes, and a song for my old heart." He brushes his long hair out of the way, getting rid of his hat, revealing his terrible horns to you, his eyes glowing with anticipation and pent up lust, "Can you hold on trough it all for me, minha Pulcinella?" He grazes the side of your face with his claws, ever so softly.
And without missing a bit, he slips out of your dripping cunt, and rams back in. It punches the air out of your lungs, shaking up to your brain, sending shocks in your head. He slips out, rams back in.
Again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
The desk cracks and complains under your activities, but Jester doesn't mind damaging his desk, he has other plans, other preoccupations right now.
Like your sweet pussy.
Or your breast bobbing up and down hypnotically.
Isn't it ironic? Even without powers, you hypnotize the brain-washer. A delicious contradiction that he especially didn't miss, but he can grant you that little power over him.
His little doll to play with.
Easy to care for.
Easy to break.
Easy to remodel to his sickest fantasies.
He loves to project an air of perfect control and mastery, but even the most self restrained man needs to let of some steam. Who would have known he was so wicked and so vicious as to love chain and gags even in the bedroom? After all, lots love to bark but cannot bite.
Jester just let you know that he can bite, and he can tear off your arm with it.
You are no longer on the playgrounds but in a real circus of perversion, an you are the newest prized toy.
"So tight, Pulcinella. This is succulent, what else can you give me? Your mind? Your little brain? Your feeble heart?" He asks, never slowing his pace, ravaging you like never before, "Your soul?"
You manage to open your eyes and look at him trough the tears, with evident fear.
Could he steal your soul? Is that… A thing?
"You look terrorized, sweet little thing. Are you asking yourself if this is possible?" He inquires his grin stretching wider, letting you gaze at his pearly white teeth, "Keep pleasing me like you do, Pulcinella, and you will never have to worry about it." He sussures in your ear delicately.
And he kisses your cheek.
A kiss so soft.
So tender.
So different than his usual behavior that it wrecks your brain entirely, making you sob harder.
Is it covetousness? Is it limerence? Is it Love? Or is it just sick?
What is it for him? What crosses his mind when his eyes lie on you?
Is it true, or just a sick game to entertain him?
Is he true to you?
Or is he playing with your heart? Like a cat do a mouth before putting it down?
He looks down at you with clear satisfaction, and proceeds to destroy what remained of your consciousness for the soiree with stronger pelvis thrust. His cock brushes all the good spots, making you drool on yourself, eyes rolling inside your head and your toes curling deliciously.
You cunt is so thick and fluffy for him, its like a warm pillow for him to nudge in and enjoy. A sheath for his glorious shaft.
Like your body was tailor-made for his.
You pant, your head light and dizzy, the smell of sex getting so strong and heady you lose your marks. Nothing exist outside of you two. Two predators, wanting each other's death yet craving each other's devotion.
Locked in a dance of death, a battle of love.
Your body knows it is in the presence of a flesh-eater, a carnivore. Yet instead of terrifying you like a normal, sane woman, you want to push further.
To see how far it could go. How far can you push him until he loses his nerves and it gets… Let's say interesting.
If he were to eat you whole, you'd find it a good death. To be this monster's meal is a worthy end.
Your entire body contract as one muscle with each back and forth, forced to receive the pleasure he so generously grants you. You moan, the fire in your core growing and growing, devastating everything on its wake, huffing through your nose, your walls fluttering around his girth.
You feel the waves of your orgasm approaching surely, already looming over your mind, ready to ravage you with raw ecstasy
"I feel you close, querida Pulcinella. You are so easy to guess, it is a pleasure working you up." He hums satisfied with his work on you.
And with three powerful last thrusts, he finishes inside of you, pushing you beyond the arcana of pleasure. Without any warning, he bares his teeth, and bites down your shoulder.
Hard.
Drawing blood.
The sudden pain rushes the tsunami that reaches the shore and destroys everything that was left of you. Your energy, your dignity, your mind. You drown in a swirl of sensual sensations and lustrous feelings.
Everything that he touched is now soiled and twisted to his taste.
The knot in your core snaps clean and your back arches impressively while your scream of pleasure is barely silenced by the gag. Your core spasms, dancing around his erection. Your eyes close, blinded by white firelight behind your eyelids, your head dizzy. He buries himself to the hilt to repaint your insides in white with his thick creamy seed, and your pussy greedily milks him for all his worth, kneading him nice and well, forcing a sound akin to a growled snigger out of him.
Your body, so tense, suddenly fall, slouching on the desk, void of all energy and mean to move and escape this predator.
He pants, looming over you like a storm cloud, his white mask framed by his gorgeous purple mane, tickling your face, hands and each side of your head.
He sighs, straitening his posture as he combs his hair back with his fingers, head thrown back.
You gulp, gathering your senses.
He looks back down at you, with a stern indecipherable expression for a second. He looks so… Taken aback you actually think he'll jump at your throat.
But he just slips off without a word, and re-dresses himself, his expression turned still and austere. He snaps his fingers, freeing you from the bond and the gag, allowing you to finally move.
"Dress back up and return home." He readjusts his collar, "Ask Pierrot to escort you if you want."
"… What?" You ask, astonished.
He… He is really throwing you out? You're still naked on his desk, your fluids mixed oozing out of your still sensitive cunt onto the wood, disheveled and panting, and he just… Shoos you out like that?
"Jester?"
"Thank you for your time, pet. You may take your leave." He flattens his clothes, pulling his hair into a bun, turning to you with a gaze so terrible you shiver "I won't repeat it."
You huff through your nose, indignant, jump on your feet to put you clothes back on.
You are thoroughly humiliated.
You run out of the tent without further ado, jaw clenched hard.
If this is the attitude he intends to give you, might as well end everything right here.
"My Lady…?" A concerned voice rises behind you.
You turn to Pierrot, approaching you carefully in the dark night, this side of the circus barely illuminated to allow the artists to sleep in peace.
"Are you alright?" He asks gingerly.
"Pierrot…!" You broke down crying again, of exhaustion and frustration.
And you fall into his arms, pressing your face to his chest.
Jester can go fuck himself.
_________
He sighs, taking a puff of his cig again.
He was a real jerk to you. Again.
But this time he took things too far, he lost control of himself.
Claiming you?
You?
A human?
Did his age finally catch back to him?
And now he also have to make sure you are on the pill, or that would be a problem.
He breathes through his nose. He is getting sloppy, before he took all the precautions. But with you…
With you, he loses his mind. He loses his usual self-control. He loses himself in you.
Who is he truly if he lost his hate?
Who is he if he softens for the enemy?
He tssks and crush his cig, under his foot, trying to relax his shoulders.
He didn't like the gaze you gave him rushing out of his tent, and he is not looking forward your next meeting.
Alas…
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