Art The Clown X Reader One shots! (Open)

Beneath The Surface (Male Reader)

The soft hum of water filtered through the aquarium, a tranquil illusion masking the tension that crackled in the air. Dim lighting bathed the blue-tinted corridors, giving the space an ethereal, almost dreamlike quality. Schools of fish drifted lazily past the glass, their silent existence oblivious to the madness that was about to unfold.

Your eyes scanned the room eagerly, pulse quickening at the thought of seeing him.. Art. It had taken weeks of careful planning to orchestrate this moment. He'd followed Art for months, studying him from the shadows, obsessing over the clown's every brutal move, every silent act of violence.

And now, they were here. Alone.

He could feel it. Art's presence nearby. The flickering of lights in the distance told you that your muse, your obsession, had arrived.

In the low light, Your fingers twitched with anticipation. You wasn't scared. No... You admired Art, worshipped him, longed to be noticed by the killer clown who had become your obsession. All of it, the blood, the chaos, the fear, fascinated you. You didn't want to escape.. you wanted to join him.

You caught a glimpse of movement in the reflection of a massive tank, filled with eerie, glowing jellyfish. There he was.. Art. The clown's head was cocked at an unnatural angle, eyes wide and hollow, a grin stretched across his pale, blood smeared face.

Younswallowed hard, heart racing, not out of fear, but out of excitement. You took a step forward, your voice soft, reverent.

"I knew you'd come."

Art stood still, a dark silhouette among the serene aquatic world around them. His silence was suffocating, yet magnetic. Your eyes darted over his form, taking in every detail-the tattered clown suit, the dark, glistening stains that streaked his face and hands.

Art tilted his head further, as if assessing the strange man standing before him. In one fluid motion, he pulled out his trusty horn from the folds of his costume and squeezed it once.

Honk.

You smiled, a twisted grin matching the clown's. "I've waited for this," you murmured, stepping closer. "I've watched you... I understand you."

Art's grin widened, but his eyes remained cold, empty. His hand reached into his bag, slow and deliberate, fingers curling around something metallic.

Your breath hitched. "I want to be yours," you continued, voice shaking now, not from fear but desire. You stepped even closer, your face inches from Art's. "I want to help you. Kill for you."

The air around them thickened as Art's gaze locked onto your, silent and unreadable. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. The sound of bubbling water in the tanks was the only thing grounding you to the reality of the moment.

Then, without warning, Art's hand shot out, gripping your throat with a vice-like strength. You gasped, choking, but there was no fear in your eyes, only admiration, a sickening devotion. Your fingers wrapped around Art's wrist, not in an attempt to escape, but to hold onto him.

"Yes," you croaked, your voice strained. "That's it... I knew you'd see me."

Art's grin twisted into something darker. His free hand brought forth a blade, the edge glinting in the faint light from the tanks. He pressed it lightly against your cheek, the metal biting into your skin just enough to draw some blood.

Your lips parted, and a quiet moan escaped. "Please..." You whispered, the thrill of being so close to death electrifying you.

Art tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his otherwise empty eyes. Slowly, methodically, he dragged the blade across your skin, leaving a thin, crimson trail. You shuddered, the pain a sick form of euphoria.

"I can be like you," you breathed, voice shaky. "I can kill. I can do anything you want."

Art released his grip on your throat, letting you stumble back a few steps, still clutching the bleeding wound on your cheek. There was a glimmer of something unreadable in the clown's eyes, as if he was toying with the idea.

You dropped to your knees, staring up at Art with wide, devoted eyes. "I'll follow you anywhere. Just... say the word."

For a long moment, Art simply stared, his twisted smile never faltering. Then, in a swift, almost playful motion, he raised his horn again and gave it another honk. The sound echoed through the empty aquarium.

Your heart raced, hope blooming in your chest. You was ready. Ready to die for Art, or live for him, whichever the clown chose.

Art raised the blade again, and for a split second, you thought this was it, his initiation, his final moment. But instead, Art flicked his wrist, sending the blade spinning through the air. It landed with a sharp thunk in a nearby fish tank, sending cracks spider webbing across the glass.

Your eyes widened as water began to pour from the tank, flooding the floor. Fish flailed as the glass shattered, and Art simply stood there, watching with silent glee.

You let out a breathless laugh, eyes locked on Art's form as the water began to rise around them. You didn't care about the chaos. All that mattered was that you were with him.

In the end, the aquarium became a flood of destruction, but it didn't matter to you. Drenched and bleeding, you stared at Art as if he were staring at the stars.

And Art? He simply watched, entertained by the spectacle he'd created, before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving you in the rising water, devoted to him, even in the end.