-A twisted Fate?- An Art The clown x Fem!Reader

The Spark

You sat there, frozen on the bench, watching as Art took slow, deliberate steps toward you. Every movement he made felt like a twisted mockery of your fear, his grin still plastered across his bloodied face. The ring in your hand pulsed like a living thing, its presence unbearable. You couldn’t take it anymore, the weight of it, the meaning behind it, the suffocating sense of ownership that came with it.

Without thinking, without hesitating, you hurled the plastic ring at him.

It flew through the air and bounced off his chest with a soft plink, barely making a sound as it hit the ground. But the action, the defiance, was louder than anything you had ever done. You had thrown it back, rejected the twisted bond he had tried to create with you.

For a brief moment, everything was still. Art’s grin didn’t falter, but his eyes… something dark flickered in them, a spark of something dangerous. His head tilted just slightly to the side, and the air around you seemed to thicken with a suffocating tension. The smile remained, but the amusement in his gaze was gone.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you sat there, breathless, wondering if you had just made the worst mistake of your life.

Art stood there, motionless for a beat too long, his eyes fixed on where the ring had fallen at his feet. Slowly, methodically, he bent down and picked it up, his fingers brushing over the plastic as if it were something precious.

When he straightened, his gaze locked onto yours. The dark amusement that had danced in his eyes moments before was replaced with something far more intense... something you couldn’t quite place, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

He took a step toward you, then another, closing the distance between you in a matter of seconds. You wanted to run, to get away, but your body refused to move. It was as if the air itself had trapped you in place.

Art stood in front of you now, his tall, looming figure casting a shadow over you. His grin had softened, barely noticeable, but it was there. He knelt down in front of you, close enough that you could see every detail of his face, the dried blood on his cheeks, the faint flicker of something dark and unreadable in his eyes.

Slowly, deliberately, he reached out with the hand that held the ring.

You flinched, expecting violence, expecting him to grab you, hurt you, do what he did best. But instead, his touch was shockingly gentle. His fingers brushed against your palm, opening it up carefully, as if he were handling something delicate. He placed the ring back into your hand, softly, his movements almost… tender.

Your breath caught in your throat.

For a moment, just a moment, the world around you seemed to blur. His eyes, dark and filled with something you couldn’t name, locked onto yours. There was no mockery in his expression now, no sadistic delight. Instead, there was an intensity, something raw and primal that sent your heart racing in a way that wasn’t just fear.

He tilted his head, studying you, his fingers lingering against your skin longer than they needed to. The air between you crackled with a strange energy, an unspoken connection that felt as suffocating as it was electrifying. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from his, and for a fleeting second, it felt like the entire world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

You didn’t understand what was happening—why this moment felt different, why his touch, his gaze, sent a wave of heat through your chest. It was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. But there was something about the way he looked at you, the way he handled you with such surprising care, that made you feel like you were teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something you couldn’t control.

Art’s fingers trailed lightly over your wrist before he finally pulled away, leaving the ring once again in your palm. His eyes flickered down to it, then back to you, as if to silently say, this is yours now. His grin softened into something that almost felt like… approval.

You swallowed hard, your chest tight with a mix of emotions that you couldn’t untangle. The fear was still there, heavy and ever-present, but underneath it, something else had sparked to life. Something confusing, terrifying, and undeniable.

He stood up slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, and for a brief, bewildering moment, there was a tenderness to the way he looked at you. A possessive tenderness, as if he was silently telling you that this game, this chase, was far from over. But for now… this moment belonged to the two of you.

The absurdity of it all made your head spin, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that, in some twisted way, Art had given you something more than just a cheap plastic ring. He had given you a piece of himself, however dark and monstrous that piece might be.

Before you could fully process what had just happened, Art’s expression shifted back into that familiar grin. His head cocked to the side, and with a theatrical bow, he stepped back, melting into the shadows as effortlessly as he had appeared.

You sat there, breathless, the ring still clutched in your hand. Confusion washed over you like a tidal wave, your mind racing to make sense of the strange, intimate moment that had just passed between you and the man who had haunted your every waking moment.

And yet, as terrifying as it was, you couldn’t deny that something had changed.

Whatever this was between you and Art, it was no longer just about survival.

It was something far more dangerous.