Art The Clown X Reader One shots! (Open)

Crimson Obsession (NG Reader)

The cold night air filled the narrow alleyway, the scent of rain mixing with something darker. Metallic. A smell you recognized instantly. Blood.

You had always been obsessed with horror. The movies, the lore, the villains-everything about the dark and grotesque fascinated you. To others, it was just a phase, a morbid hobby, but for you, it was something deeper. An escape from the mundane reality you despised. You never thought you'd encounter real horror, not in your quiet life, but tonight... tonight was different.

It was a late night walk, something to clear your head after watching your favorite slasher flick for the millionth time. The streets were empty, save for a faint noise coming from a nearby alley. Curiosity, always your fatal flaw, pulled you in that direction. Your heartbeat quickened as the sounds became clearer: muffled gasps, the wet slap of something heavy hitting the pavement.

You turned the corner, and there he was.

Art the Clown.

You froze. He was crouched over someone, their body limp and bleeding, his fingerless gloved hands smeared with crimson. The grin plastered on his pale, painted face was wider than you imagined it could be. He didn't notice you at first, completely engrossed in his work. The victim, a man, twitched feebly beneath him, but it was over. The life had already drained from his eyes.

Your breath caught in your throat, but it wasn't fear that gripped you. No, something far more dangerous surged within. Awe. Excitement. Like you were watching your favorite horror scene unfold in real life, the lines between fantasy and reality blurring.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from Art as he slowly stood up, his back straightening. His hands dripped with fresh blood, and when he finally turned toward you, the world seemed to stop.

Those eyes. Black and soulless. They locked onto you, and in that instant, you felt something snap inside. All the years of idolizing monsters, of wishing you could live in the chaos, came rushing forward. You didn't scream. You didn't run. Instead, a manic grin spread across your face.

Art tilted his head, clearly intrigued. Most people would have been running for their lives by now, but not you. You took a step forward, then another, until you were standing right in front of him, staring up into those empty eyes.

"Beautiful," you whispered, your voice low, trembling with excitement. "It's... beautiful."

Art's head cocked further, his mouth stretching into that eerie, silent smile. He studied you, his eyes flicking between your face and the body behind him, as if waiting for the catch-waiting for the fear. But it never came.

Instead, you knelt beside the body, running a finger through the still-warm blood on the pavement. Your breath hitched as you smeared the crimson stain between your fingers, reveling in the sensation, the reality of it all.

"I've watched so many of your kills," you murmured, your voice shaky but exhilarated. "I've dreamed about this moment."

Art's grin widened. You were different. A rare find. Slowly, he crouched beside you, mimicking your movements, the two of you kneeling in the blood like conspirators sharing a dark secret. He extended one bloodied hand toward your face, almost gently, as if marking you with his signature.

You didn't flinch as his fingerless gloved hand painted a streak of blood across your cheek. Instead, you let out a shaky laugh, feeling your pulse race with exhilaration. You were beyond sanity now, lost in the moment, intoxicated by the violence and the presence of the very creature you had obsessed over for so long.

"You're... perfect," you breathed, your eyes wild with a mixture of madness and admiration.

Art's smile remained fixed, but there was something new in his eyes-a flicker of curiosity, maybe even amusement. He straightened, offering you his hand, an invitation into his world.

Without hesitation, you took it.

As he pulled you to your feet, your heart pounded with excitement. This wasn't just a momentary encounter; it felt like destiny. You had found something-or rather, someone- that mirrored the darkness inside you. No longer was it just a fantasy. It was real.

And you couldn't wait to see what horrors the night would bring....