chisai236

[chisai236]

VERY important research happening here today, folks. 🦖🦕

BONUS: Tell me your favourite dinosaur in the tags. ( b ._.)b

[chisai236]

Zardnaxela commissioned me to make a character reference of the adopt they got a while back!

[chisai236]

For the anon who asked for Ticket Taker!! 😄

[chisai236]

Also, in other news, I am starting to feel better with my new medication, thankfully. Still not 100%, but I'm much better now, so really hoping I'll settle into it permanently and be all set going forward! :)

[chisai236]

"Mornings and Proposals" - Pierrot

Character(s): Pierrot (The Freak Circus)

Pairing(s): Pierrot x Reader (Mostly gender neutral reader, but there is mention of the reader wearing a dress and being called 'wife')

Rating: General Audiences

✨ Commission for @destinysquared! ✨

If you want to commission me, check out this post!

Summary: You've lived in the circus for years now, under the careful protection and love of Pierrot. One day, you wake up to the smell of breakfast being made for you, and in your happiness, you can't help but ask Pierrot a special question.

For a few years now, this peculiar existence has been your normal. You, the human heart in a den of disguised beasts veiled in bright colors, bells and motley. The early days had been a flurry of discovery, a whirlwind of learning the true nature of this new chosen family you’d taken for your own. There had been trials, certainly. Harlequin’s myriads of pranks, for one, or the time the local authorities had gotten a little too curious about the circus’ strange manner and their comings and goings from town to town. But through it all, Pierrot had been your unwavering anchor, his quiet intensity a constant, comforting presence. His claws and teeth that had once been some concern to you were now distant worries, for Pierrot had proven time and time again that he would never turn the sharp, dangerous edges of himself against you. No, never against you, though he had borne them many times to defend you.

Things had settled, eased into a comfortable rhythm that hummed with a strange, beautiful harmony your monotonous life back in the city never had. Pierrot’s love for you, an all-consuming devotion that was unquestionably obsessive, ensured your well-being was always his paramount concern. No cold drafts in your private tent, no misplaced belongings, and everything you could possibly mention needing provided the moment the words left your lips, sometimes even before. Pierrot’s vigilance, a silent safeguard wrapped in performer's attire, was a testament to a connection deeper than words, deeper than the vast physical differences between you. You wore the yellow star pendant he’d always given you, a constant weight against your collarbone, a promise of his protection, a reminder of his love. And somewhere else on your shirt, often hidden beneath a scarf or lapel, was Harlequin’s green heart. Because despite where your preferences for circus-y company may lie, you know that he cared for you too, in his own… very Harlequin way.

This morning, the aroma of sizzling bacon and the sweet, buttery scent of pancakes wafted through the caravan, pulling you gently from the soft cocoon of your blankets. You stretched a slow, languid arch of your back, and blinked against the muted light filtering through a small fold in the upper height of your personal tent. You’d need to fix that later in case it rains. Your eyes, still heavy with sleep, registered the subtle clatter of a pan and a soft musical hum emitted from the same direction. Your tent was, of course, situated right by Pierrot’s.

He was an early riser, his internal clock set to the precise moment he could begin his daily ritual of ensuring your comfort, which seemed to be set right before you would naturally wake up. Pierrot especially loved to surprise you with breakfast, and so you weren’t at all surprised by the sounds and smells floating around your awakening awareness. It was expected, but still as charming and heartwarming as it had been the first time. It was like a small, domestic rebellion against his public persona of creepy and unsettling silent performer, a private act of tenderness reserved only for you. So you smiled, a genuine, sleepy curl of your lips. You heard his every movement, every subtle shift of weight, the rustle of his costume and soft jingle of his bells as he navigated the small space next door.

A wave of profound happiness washed over you, warm and comforting like the rising sun. What a wonderful feeling to wake up to, it wasn't just the delicious smell of breakfast, though that certainly helped. It was the culmination of years of shared laughter, of silent understanding, of overcoming challenges with the unwavering support of this strange, dangerous, beautiful creature. It was the feeling of being utterly, completely seen and cherished. A trust and devotion you had handedly earned through a few small acts of kindness to a being who had received almost none of it from someone unlike him. You knew what lurked beneath his gloves, what glinted in his golden eyes, the sharp claws, the pointed teeth he usually kept hidden behind the smiling mask. But it didn't scare you. How could it, when those same hands so gently brushed your hair from your face, when those same eyes held such devotion, when that same mouth delivered such poetic declarations of love?

Pierrot deserved for every bit of love that he gave you to be given back in kind. So you decided to surprise him.

Rolling out of bed, you padded silently across the worn, but clean, tarp and worn rug that served as the floor of your tent. As you exited, the cold air and chilly earth raised goosebumps on your skin. It was late in the year, and autumn was in full swing, but the warmth in your chest was more than enough to counteract it. You moved with the quiet grace of someone intimately familiar with their surroundings, navigating the small distance from your tent to his with as little sound as your bare feet could manage.

When you slowly and carefully peeled back the heavy flap of Pierrot’s tent, you saw that his back was to you, his broad shoulders and tall frame wrapped in rich black and red fabrics was bent over a small makeshift kitchen setup, the kind you would see someone use while camping. His black gloves were still on, of course, protecting his clawed hands from the heat of the stove as he expertly flipped a fluffy pancake. He was humming a low, tuneless melody under his gentle rasp of breath. His head was tilted slightly, his silver hair, most of which was tucked securely into his hat, falling a little over one eye. He looked utterly content, utterly absorbed in his culinary task.

You channeled your inner ninja and moved as steadily and silently as possible. You reached him in a handful of quiet steps, your bare feet making only the slightest of sounds with each contact and brush with the earth. Your arms then reached up, and all at once, wrapped around his waist, pulling him against your chest. Your cheek pressing to rest against the soft fabric of his motley, gently worn, but still pristine and clean.

Pierrot froze. His humming cut off in an exaggerated jolt. You felt the jarring stiffening of his muscles, the sudden intake of breath, the abrupt twitch of his hidden claws. He always kept a high level of readiness, a constant awareness of his surroundings as a defense mechanism, but his body language suggested surprise. Whether or not the surprise was genuine, or he simply let you sneak up on him like a mother tiger teaching her cub how to pounce by looking the other way, remained to be seen.

You squeezed him gently, hoping you had surprised him but ultimately uncaring in the face of getting to be near him at all. You began nuzzling your face against his back. “Good morning, you silly clown!” You cheered, your voice still heavy with sleep, but overflowing with affection sparked by your little escapade. “Trying to silently spring breakfast on me again?”

Pierrot shifted, his body turning a quarter into your hold. “Good morning.” His masked smile was wide, eyes beaming, his voice a soft purr. “Are you doing well my dearest?”

“I'm more than well,” you sighed, tilting your head up to look at the side of his face. His golden irises, usually so piercing, held a flicker of something like a deep, almost painful, tenderness whenever he looked at you. Like it hurt and delighted him in equal measure to see and touch you. “I’m impossibly happy, jubilant you could say. These mornings are always so nice.”

Your words hung in the air, simple yet thoughtful. You felt his body lean against yours, a soft sigh escaping him. One of his gloved hands, the one that rested at his side, gently reached back, a silent invitation for your fingers to entwine with his. You took it, threading your fingers through long inhuman ones, feeling the smooth leather of the glove, the firm, alien shape of the clawed hand underneath.

“You always take such good care of me,” you continued, your voice soft, almost a purr. “Always thinking of me, always making sure I’m safe and warm and fed. Always anticipating every little thing I need before I even know I need it.” You pressed a soft kiss to his back, then resumed rubbing your cheek against him like a content cat. “What did I ever do to deserve you, Pierrot?”

He vibrated slightly, a pleased hum in his chest. “You existed as you are, you… you made sure I wasn’t hurt.”

You smiled, a warm blush spreading across your cheeks. You tightened your hug, feeling the solid strength of him, the familiar warmth. This was it. This felt like forever. And in that moment, a whimsical, wonderfully spontaneous thought bloomed in your mind, and it demanded to be spoken. Like a party popper with the string already pulled, there was no holding back the color of the emotion rushing out now.

You took a deep breath, the scent of hot oil and maple syrup filling your lungs. You tightened your grip on his waist, your voice dropping to a low, incredibly soft murmur, meant only for his ears.

“You know,” you began, your heart beginning to pound a little too fast against your ribs, “we've been through so much. We've found this strange life together, you’ve let me into this strange, wonderful family of yours. You're my anchor, my protector, my strange whimsical tall dark and mysterious pierrot.” You paused, gathering courage you hadn’t realized you needed for the words you wanted to say, a smile playing on your lips. “And I love you more than all the stars in the night sky. So…”

You felt him shift, his attention solely on you now, the frying pan suspended in the air as he lifted it up absently while turning further to face you. His shoulders were tense again, his body radiating a silent, curious question. He could tell something was coming, could tell that something meaningful was about to be said. “So…?” he urged you on.

You leaned in closer, raising to your tip-toes to be as tall as you could, and pressed your lips against his ear, your voice barely a whisper, filled with all the love and hope in your heart.

“So, Pierrot…”

You took a final, fortifying breath, a giggle bubbling up despite all the buildup you’d accidentally injected into the moment.

“What if we got married, you and me?”

The world seemed to stop. The sizzle of bacon on the stove, the distant sounds of circus life outside, the crisp wind blowing between the tents and bare trees, all seemed to snap into stark silence. Like nothing existed but the two of you.

Pierrot, the usually unflappable, meticulously controlled performer, the creature of silent, elegant movements, simply froze. His back arched, his entire body going rigid in your hold. The frying pan, secure in his faultless grip moments before, slipped from his numb fingers.

CLANG!

It hit the linoleum floor with a deafening crash; a shower of half-cooked bacon and eggs splattered across the makeshift cooking setup. Unused pancake batter neatly set aside in a bowl was caught in the tumble, all coalescing in a pool of golden-brown batter that began to spread outward, mingling with crispy strips of bacon that altogether looked like a murder of savory sweet breakfast foods.

Pierrot’s head snapped over his shoulder, his eyes wide, pupils dilated to black pits, the golden irises almost swallowed by the shock. His jaw dropped, revealing, for a brief, startling moment, the glint of sharp, predatory teeth before he snapped his mouth shut. His hands, still held up in a gesture of surprise, clenched, the black gloves stretching taut over the sudden, tell-tale force of his hidden claws.

He looked dumbly from the messy floor to you, then back to the floor, then back to you again, his expression a perfect, bewildering blend of utter shock, disbelief, and something else you couldn’t quite place. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, if the deer also happened to be a creature of nightmare wearing a whimsical costume with bells.

A chuckle of uneasy laughter escaped you, unsure how to take that reaction. You hugged him tighter, burying your face against his back again, wanting to hold him close. Hopeful that his response to your comment wouldn’t be a negative one. “Well,” you mumbled against him, the smell of clean cotton against your nose, “I guess that's one way to answer, huh?”

Pierrot remained utterly still for another long moment, his chest heaving with silent, deep breaths. Then, slowly, a tremor went through him. His body softened, and he turned fully in your embrace, his gloved hands, now freed from tending to breakfast, gently cupping your face. His golden eyes, still wide, scanned your features, as if searching for a trick, a prank, or a punchline. He looked utterly bewildered still, yet undeniably now, overwhelmingly happy.

“Marry… me?” His voice was a raspy whisper, barely audible, a raw, incredulous sound.

You nodded, a wide smile splitting your face. “Yes, silly, marry you. If you want to, of course. I’m not… sure if you would want to, maybe marriage just seems like a silly human thing to you, but…” You shrugged your shoulders, face tucking down against his chest to hide your cheeks as they rapidly heated. “It sounds nice to me, at least.”

A low, rumbling sound began in his chest, a sound you recognized as his version of a joyful purr. It vibrated through his hands, through your face, through your arms still wrapped around him. His eyes, usually so serious, softened, curling up at the corners. Slowly, painstakingly, a wide, genuine smile stretched his lips, one that revealed none of his hidden teeth, but managed to convey utter delight.

His low, raspy voice returned, deeper now, smoother, laced with emotion. “My star, you… you ask me such a thing, as if there would ever be any question.” He chuckled, a soft, breathy sound that was pure Pierrot. “As if I would want anything less than being beside you forever. As if I would ever let you be anywhere but right here with me.” He let out a giddy giggle of a sigh, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. “I hadn’t thought marriage was necessary so long as you were here with me, always here close, but if that’s something you would want, if you would be happier with a ring and ceremony...”

He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your cheek, his fluffy silver bangs tickling your forehead. “My whimsical, beautiful human. Do you truly ask this of me? To bind myself to you, in the eyes of all, for eternity?”

You smiled happily and wide with relief and joy. “Only if you want to, Pierrot,” you teased, already knowing the answer now, your heart soaring. “No pressure. We can always just live in domestic bliss, covered in pancake batter.” You gestured playfully at the messy floor with a tilt of your chin to the mess that had been forgotten in your quiet moment together.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes shining with a light that would put stars in the night sky to shame, a light reserved only for you. “You are my eternal bliss, my kindest star. My every breath feels like it’s for you, my every waking moment, my every thought, my every dark impulse… all bent to your protection, your happiness.” His hands slid down to caress your jaw, fingers messaging the back of your neck tenderly. “To be bound to you, my love, in any role, would be the greatest pleasure I can imagine. Oh to see you in a pretty dress, decorated in flowers, a shiny ring on your finger from me, to get to call you wife…” He trailed off, the word a reverent whisper on his lips.

Then, his eyes narrowed playfully, a hint of his usual mischievousness returning. “Though I must confess, the timing was… less than ideal for the integrity of our breakfast.”

You laughed, a clear, bright sound that echoed through the small caravan. “Yeah… that’s my fault. I’m so sorry, the thought just… slipped out.” You tilted your head up and placed a delicate kiss between his eyes. “Also, does what you said mean ‘yes’?”

Pierrot’s face broke into a wide, toothy grin – the kind he only showed you, the kind that might send others screaming but filled you with an understanding of his strange, fierce love. He squeezed your hands, then, with a surprising surge of energy, swept you into a dizzying hug, lifting you off your feet. “Yes! A thousand times yes, my star! I will marry you! With every fiber of my monstrous being!”

He spun you around, a whirlwind of red, black, and gold. You clung to him, laughing freely, the dropped pan and the messy breakfast forgotten. The circus around you continued its slow awakening, oblivious to the momentous, slightly chaotic, proposal that had just taken place inside your small, whimsical world.

“Well!” You laughed as Pierrot slowed your joyful spin around his tent. “I guess that means I get to see what a circus full of monsters puts together for a wedding.” You grinned, genuinely excited. It could be whimsical, terrifying, silly, glamorous, or some combination of all of those things, and you would be happy if just to have the opportunity to see it.

“Yes! You shall!” Pierrot grinned in kind. “We should start planning now, in fact!”

“Okay!” You giggled as your energy ramped up, swept up with his enthusiasm for the idea. “But maybe we should clean up the floor first.” You pat his chest as you pulled back, turning to the mess of forgotten food caking the floor.

You chastised Pierrot when he quickly shooed you out of the way, insisting on cleaning it himself. You tried to help anyway, but he was firm in not making you clean the dirty floor. So instead, you sat off to the side, chatting over ideas you had for your future wedding. Unsure how much of the whimsical ideas you shared would even be possible with the resources the circus held, but the two of you found you didn’t much care, the idea in of itself was nice, it made you both happy, and that was all that mattered.

Author's Note: I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE SUGARY SWEETNESS!!! THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE!!! As mentioned before, this was a commission, so thank you again Destiny for that!!!

If you'd like me to write you a fic too you can check out my info for writing commissions here!

I have another commission to fill already, so hopefully you'll all like that one too when it's done! :D

[chisai236]

AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH This is so awesome and cute oh my god! It looks like it's already hit the goal, so I hope everyone enjoys their Pierrot! 💖✨

Sadly I won't be able to get one myself, at least not for this run I don't have any income to spare right now, but I'm really excited to see the little Pierrot once people start getting theirs! I'm sure people will post lots of pictures and I'm sure they'll all look adorable 😄

Pierrot plush!

The Pierrot plush campaign is live! (a bit earlier than expected, which caught me by surprise xD) So let me explain how it works!

Pierrot plush!

You only pay $2 now to reserve the plush. This amount will be deducted from the final price!

If the campaign reaches 100 reservations, the plush goes into production. That’s when supporters pay the remaining amount to receive the product.

If the goal isn’t reached, your $2 will be refunded.

I really like the way this site’s plushies come out, and it seems to reach people in many different countries! I’m super curious to see how the plush will turn out if we hit the goal! Oh, and the other physical products are also in production. I’m still sorting out some details about the online store, but I’ll share updates with you as soon as I have them! And later today we’ll have the weekly update and a small comic for you all.

[chisai236]

I am taking a new medicine now. And while I'm glad to have it, there's an adjustment process, and at the moment I'm really feeling the side effects.

My body is hypersensitive, so I have to deal with this when taking anything at all, so while it's normal for me and I know nothing is seriously wrong, I'm hoping that these side effects won't last much longer because I don't feel great right now.

[chisai236]

I'll probably make a proper update for this later, but health has really been bad lately, and mental health has also not been great. I had therapy today, and have a doctors appointment tomorrow, which is good, but things are still overall rough. Stressed about paying for therapy that I need, and what the doctors visit could possibly cost, and credit card payments that are being used to pay for things like groceries and rent and seeing the numbers together are always so stressful.

If anyone has work they can send my way I do take commissions on Ko-fi and my website. Or if you just have ideas/resources on getting and finding a job or managing and organizing life things, I'd love to hear them, I could use all the help I could get.

Thanks for listening to all this. I appreciate it, sorry if it's a downer at all. Usually I try to keep things light, but sometimes it's just hard, but yeah, thank you ✨💖

[chisai236]

Art Fight 2025

Finally posting all my Art Fight attacks from this year!! ✨

[chisai236]

That’s It for the Other One: Cryptical Envelopment/Quadlibet for Tender Feet/The Faster We Go, the Rounder We Get/We Leave the Castle - Submitted by: fastman27

#B2235A #FF7F65 #FFC778 #21BF78 #5047FC #6D1998

[chisai236]

Writing Commissions!

Heyyy The Freak Circus fanbase, I'm taking writing commissions if anyone would be interested! A lot of people seemed to like the two one-shots I posted, and I could use the money right now as I'm in a rough situation, so I'd be up for it if anyone else is! A few notes below if you are interested:

Price:

$15 for 1000 words, or $20 for 2000 words. In both cases, you'll likely get more as I tend to overwrite quite a bit! If you want something longer than this, feel free to message me with details.

What I will write for:

Self-Insert/Reader-Insert/OCs (All genders, identities, and sexualities are welcome!)

Character types: Humans, monsters, furry, robots, etc.

Any of The Freak Circus characters.

All kinds of genres (Fluff, Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Yandere, Horror, General slice of life, etc.)

AUs of any kind.

*Explicit Content (Erotica, smut, gore)

*I like to keep my blog relatively SFW, so while I'm happy to write Explicit content, it won't be posted to this blog. So in this case, you'll be sent a PDF to download to keep for yourself. I will post the writing on my Discord, though, where we have a dedicated NSFW writing channel. If you want to post your explicit fic publicly, you may, but you must credit me for writing it (Chisai236), and linking back to this post would be super appreciated!

What I won’t write for:

Certain Kinks (Feel free to ask me in a direct message or email, I don't judge)

Additional things might be added here as people ask, but at the moment, there isn't really anything I can think of that I feel like I can't write for. And feel free to ask, the worst I'll say is no.

Other important information:

I can accept payments through Paypal or Ko-fi.

Email if you want to use it for contact is: chisai236@gmail.com

I accept payment up front only.

If you would like me to make major revisions or completely rewrite the fic for you, there will be an additional cost.

Turnaround time is about 1-2 weeks, but it'll likely be done sooner. If it takes longer for any reason, I'll message you to let you know.

I don’t offer WIPs as I work, but you're welcome to message me whenever to ask how things are going! I can also send you snippets on request, if you'd like.

Please don't repost the writing I do for you, please instead directly share the public post I make of it on this blog, thank you!

I almost always write more than the amount of words agreed on! There is no additional charge if this happens; the amount of words you pay for is simply treated as a minimum word count I must hit.

Thank you for reading and taking an interest! I hope you have a great day! I'll likely write more for The Freak Circus even without commissions, but it certainly helps me in my daily life, so thank you for reading ✨

[chisai236]

Babamon!

My second contribution to the @digigirlzine, Babamon! Please check out the zine here! You can also download the last two volumes from the page as well! ✨

[chisai236]

Sirenmon!

My first contribution to the @digigirlzine, Sirenmon! Please check out the zine here! You can also download the last two volumes from the page as well! ✨

[chisai236]

✨🌟 HAPPY ODAIBA DAY EVERYONE!!! ✨🌟

Please check out my and everyone else's hard work! The zine is absolutely STUNNING every year it feels like it just gets better and better! Everybody outdid themselves! :D

I'll be posting my contributions to the zine here shortly!

💙🩷💜 The DigiGirl Zine Vol.3 is here! 💙🩷💜

Enjoy over 180 unique illustrations in celebration of Odaiba Memorial Day and our fandom's talented artists

▶️You can download the zine here, it's completely free!

[chisai236]

Hi there Chenoa (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

I have a little req if you don't mind doing it buuuuutttttttt

GIMME THE TICKET TAKER ART OR FANFIC IDC AND MY LIFE IS YOURS TO GIVE AS HE NEEDS SOME LOVE AND IS MY FAV MEMBER OF THE FREAK CIRCUS

doit mister/madam doit

Yes, I can absolutely draw him! I love the design and it'll be fun to do! It may take a bit for me to get to it, though. I've got some other work that needs doing, and I'm filling in as a backup artist last minute for a zine project, so that has to get done first, but I WILL happily do this! :D

I'd also be happy to write a fanfic too, but I'll probably wait to do that until the next update of the game is out, just because I don't have a confident enough view of the character to try writing something for him yet (I'm surprised I did as well as I did with Harlequin honestly!)

And I hope you're doing well Anon, have a good day! ✨

[chisai236]

Little Harlequin :3

[chisai236]

That makes me so happy to hear! Thank you again for reading my fanfics. I'm glad that you liked them! ✨

"Your Heart's Desire" - Harlequin

Character(s): Harlequin (The Freak Circus)

Pairing(s): Harlequin x GN Reader

Rating: General Audiences

Summary: You have a stressful day at work that breaks into a panic attack. You rush home after to try and calm down, only to find out someone you hadn't invited was already there waiting for you...

Work was… once again work. You might think that working at a coffee shop would be a relatively easy sort of job. Just make drinks you already have memorized and take the customers’ money as payment, simple. And yet, there always seemed to be something that happened each day that made you question that relative simplicity. A regular who was an older woman, always one of the first into the shop at opening, had grumpily sent back her oat milk latte for tasting “too much like milk.” Insisting you must have made it wrong and being condescending all the while staring at you pointedly as you remade it.

And then, there was the rat. A big, brazen one, which decided to skitter across the floor at your feet just as you were pouring a latte art of a heart into the remade coffee. Seeing it made you shriek in fear, drop the froth pitcher of milk, and douse yourself in it as it fell and clattered to the floor loudly. Scaring the rat, which tore through an open cabinet to escape, caused a huge mess. A bag of coffee beans stored there spilled onto the floor. You didn’t know what to do, you froze entirely. And to make matters, somehow, worse the older woman immediately started into complaining about your inability to do your job, while you were wincing in pain from a surface burn and unsure what you should do now between that, the spilled milk, the beans on the floor, the drink that needed to be remade, and the rat that you knew was somewhere in the shop now.

Of course this all had to happen when you were one of the only employees working now, what with Carol’s position still being open and unfilled…

Your nerves were already shot from a week of late shifts and city life’s constant haste. So this was not doing you any favors at all. By the time you locked the coffee shop door, the sunset painting the brick buildings in spooky orange, that familiar tightness had started coiling in your chest. The walk home usually helped you decompress, but tonight, every shadow felt heavier, every distant siren drilled into your skull. The rat incident replayed on a loop, joined by the older lady’s sneer and the sticky oat milk on your jeans. Your breath started catching, like a frantic butterfly stuck in your throat, beating as fast as your poor heart. You wanted to cry, but you held it in, bottling what was already close to exploding for the sake of not causing a scene out in public.

You fumbled with your apartment keys when you finally made it home, hands shaking so bad with pent up stress and emotion you nearly dropped them. Your small, cramped space usually felt safe, but tonight it just felt like a cage. You shoved the door open. The air was thick, your own frantic heart thudding in your ears. You kicked off your shoes, tossed your bag onto a worn table by the door, and automatically reached for the light switch.

Just as your fingers brushed the cool plastic, a voice, low and laced with infuriating amusement, purred from the darkness.

“Rough day, my dear?”

You shrieked, a high-pitched, totally undignified sound. Your hands flew up, one clutching your chest, causing your hand to dig into the green heart pinned there with the force, while your other hand slapped uselessly at the air. That frantic butterfly in your chest? It just escalated to a full-blown flock of panicked vultures. It felt like your nerves were screaming.

The chuckle that followed your dramatic reaction clued you into who it was.

“Harlequin! What the–? What are you doing in my apartment! How did you even get in?” Your voice was already climbing, ragged with fright and a new, sharp panic.

A figure stepped out of the deeper shadows by your window, a splash of green and black motley decorated with golds, the familiar heart motifs stark even in the dim light. He moved with the inhuman grace of a ghost, perfectly at ease, like he owned the place and didn’t feel the slightest bit unwelcome.

“Oh, the usual methods.” He purred, completely unconcerned by your near cardiac arrest. “A dash of charm, a hint of persuasion, and a significant instance of disappointment in a flimsy lock. You should bring that up to your landlord, by the way. Wouldn’t want some unsavory intruder getting in.”

He chuckled, a soft, bubbling sound that usually made you smile in spite, or at the very least playfully pout, but tonight, every sound grated. Every unplanned incident adding to the mountain of stress, mercilessly crushing you in your own mind and body. The air in the room felt impossibly thin in your constricting lungs, your chest was tightening further, a vise clamped around your ribs. Your vision blurred around the edges, Harlequin’s colors bleeding into the encroaching darkness.

“You–! you broke in!” You gasped, your voice reedy. The rat, the old lady, the mess, the blaring sirens, Harlequin’s uninvited presence when you hadn’t expected it, it all slammed into you.

Harlequin, meanwhile, was entirely oblivious to the spiraling chaos inside you. He took a step closer, gloved hands clasped loosely behind his back. “Such a dramatic assessment. I merely… facilitated my entry.” The green of his eyes rolled in the black pools surrounding them. “You seemed rather distressed on your walk home, I thought you might be grateful to have someone come to check on you? I know you do so love witty banter.” He paused, his smile seeming to shine knowingly. “Was I wrong? Oh silly me…”

He grin stretched further somehow. It was that smug self-satisfied look he often wore, had you been less terrified, it might have made you smile, or prompt you to give a witty retort like usual. But all you could register was the complete lack of concern. Couldn’t he see that something was very wrong with you?

“I… I can't… Harlequin… Not right now.” You pressed the hand on your chest in tighter, feeling the frantic thunder of your heart. It was too much, it ached. The panic attack, the storm that had been brewing in the background all day, was whipping up into a hurricane in your body, wreaking devastation, and there was no stopping it now. Your breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. The room began to spin.

Harlequin tilted his head, his toothy smile faltering slightly, replaced by a look of mild confusion. “Are you alright, my dear? You're quite red. And… have been making peculiar noises.”

You choked, a desperate, shuddering intake of breath doing nothing. “I'm having a… a panic attack!” The words were forced out between gasps, sharp and desperate.

A beat of silence. Harlequin blinked. His suave, unshakeable facade wavered, just for a flicker. He clearly had absolutely no idea what to do.

“A… panic attack?” He repeated slowly, as if learning an entirely new concept. He took another step closer, his brow furrowed in something akin to bewilderment. “Well. Don't do that then.”

Tears blurred your vision, half from terror of what was happening to you, half from frustration over how useless he was. “Don't... don't do that?” you choked, voice wavering. “Harlequin, I can't breathe!”

Harlequin dipped his head, leaning in closer, his intense peridot gaze cutting right through your panic. “Hmm,” a low hum rumbled in his chest, “Breathing, my dear, is pretty essential. Perhaps... more of it? Deeply. In through the nose, out through the mouth, and all that.” He showed you with an exaggerated, easy inhale and exhale, totally unfazed by your distress.

Yeah, no. It offered zero comfort. Not one single breath eased the crushing weight on your chest, the spinning vortex in your vision, or the prickling numbness in your limbs. You were just too far gone, your mind a swirling mess of forgotten fears and screw-ups, every mistake from forever ago slamming into you at once. And then it hit you, cold and clear: Harlequin, with his infuriating calm, might be the last face you saw before you suffocated, choked by this random, unbidden terror.

“I... I can't...!” A ragged gasp tore from your throat, “Can't breathe, can't think—! Can't...” you sobbed, hot tears streaming down your dusty red cheeks.

Harlequin, seeing his perfectly logical advice totally flop, showed a flicker of something unfamiliar, a rare confusion, across his sharp features. He lifted a long, gloved finger, tapping thoughtfully against his chin, his composure still solid. “Right. So that isn't working... not enough. Maybe... a change of focus?” His head tilted. “Hmm, what would help pull you back to me?” His finger kept up its soft, absent rhythm.

You could only shake your head, a quiet no, air catching rough in your throat. Talking was just beyond you at this point.

Your gaze was blurry, distant, lost in the swirling chaos. Then, a touch. The cool, silky brush of his gloved fingers, feather-light against your tear-streaked cheek. Your eyes, glazed with panic, snapped upward, catching on the green brilliance of his.

“Shhhh...” A soft, resonant purr vibrated from his lips, a thrilling sound that seemed to chase away the noise in your mind, unflinchingly calm amidst your storm. “Look at me, my dearest,” he murmured, his smile a gentle, knowing curve as your gaze, though a struggle, centered on his. “Good.”

His hand, with easy grace, turned, no longer just wiping tears but cupping your face, his long, elegant fingers, tipped with those striking claws, spreading out delicately along your jawline and the tender curve of your neck. A tremor, totally distinct from fear, shot through you, a jolt that stole your breath for an entirely new, electrifying reason.

“Now, let’s try again. Breathe with me now, love, a slow, deep breath, just as I do.” His free hand lifted, thumb and forefinger subtly nudging your chin, making sure you were looking only at him. His pale, exquisite face filled your entire world, and whatever tattered bit of focus you had left in you managed to latch onto his words with an almost desperate obedience, as though his  presence had cast a spell.

Despite the anchoring force of his gaze, the breath you tried to draw seized, burning in your lungs, erupting in a violent, rattling cough. Yet, he held you steady, his grip unwavering even as a low, almost animalistic growl rumbled in his chest, a sound not of anger, but of deep frustration. This was a challenge he hadn't expected, a vulnerability he wasn't used to facing, and a situation beyond his usual, easy command.

He leaned closer still, his presence enveloping you, like a shield against the storm, though there was always that undercurrent of danger. “Listen to me,” he breathed, his voice a low, gravelly murmur devoid of all his customary playful mirth that cut right through the haze of your fear. “My heart,” he whispered, his grip tightening ever so slightly, “I promise you anything. Tell me how to make this go away.” His peridot eyes, wide and luminous, were fixed on yours, a mesmerizing, flickering green flame, pulling you deeper into their radiant depths until they were the only truth left in the world.

His words, simple as they were, combined with that low, desperate tone, hit you like a punch. The heat in your face went from an exhausted heat to an embarrassing flush. The sudden closeness, his hands on your face, the total lack of his usual indifferent flippancy… It all snapped something into place. A realization that stunned you into a whole other emotion apart from the fear and overwhelming anxiety you were feeling just moments ago.

The chaotic thrumming in your chest faltered, then began a slow descent. Your blurred vision sharpened, focusing on the firm and focused intensity in his eyes.

My heart… I promise you anything…

The words lingered in the air, weighed and suggestive. Somehow, it was utterly and absurdly distracting. Just moments ago, your mind had been convinced you were suffocating, but now it latched onto this unexpected, wildly out-of-place development. It sounded almost like a risqué joke or an intimate promise. Completely inappropriate for the moment, and yet...

The tightness in your chest began to melt away. Your breaths, once ragged and broken, grew steadier. The frantic storm of thoughts in your head quieted, replaced by one startling realization: he sounded... incredibly alluring. To your own shock, you found comfort in his close, sincere declaration. Without even realizing it, he had managed to chase away your panic with nothing more than a softly spoken, deeply personal promise.

You blinked, dazed. The terror was gone, the embarrassing flush inching up your neck flashing full force across your face.

Harlequin watched your eyes widen, your breathing even out, color returning to your face so strongly it seemed to swing into the other direction of having too much color. Your face now decorated with a blush instead of a pallor. He tilted his head, a slow, predatory smile spreading as realization dawned. His green eyes glinted with a trickster’s mischief.

Oh no.

“Well, well!” He sighed with contentment and glee dripping from every word. He took his hands from your face, but you found the sensation of them lingered. “Looks like I have a hidden talent for calming people down! And here I thought it took silly breathing exercises.” He grinned sideways in a way that suggested he was joking, but you were too out of it to even acknowledge it.

Harlequin straightened to his full height, his usual suave self back once more, his ego clearly fluffed by his unexpected win. He winked to you, a flash of unsettling charm only Harlequin could make look so appealing. “I think I see what happened just then. It seems you just needed someone to promise you the moon! Give you whatever your little heart desires...” His grin could only be described as devilish while he reached up with a claw to tap the little green heart pin secured to your shirt.

It was only then you realized your hand had dropped from your chest, both arms hung limply at your sides as you stared up at him dumbfounded and awestricken. You'd been suffocating only moments ago, genuinely thinking you were about to collapse, and he'd accidentally seduced you out of a panic attack. It was absurd, and yet you felt warm all the same.

“You… you just… how did you…?” You trailed off, your voice still shaky, but much clearer.

Harlequin laughed at your confusion, a rich, dark sound that filled the space of your apartment. He threw his head back, his motley shimmering as it fluttered with the shake of his shoulders. It was pure glee, the sound of someone who'd pulled off the most unexpected, delightful prank. And you, still a bit unsteady, felt a strange pull towards him because of it. You might be humorously concerned over his behavior and actions most days, but you were never bored around Harlequin. Which was something.

“Like I said.” He murmured, leaning in until the space between you hummed with charged possibility. His breath was warm against your ear as he whispered. “All you needed was for someone to give you whatever your little heart desires.” A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he boldly let his teeth graze your earlobe, a wicked punctuation that sent a shiver racing down your spine. “Well then, my heart? Tell me, what do you desire most right now?”

That utterly unraveled you.

With a flustered scramble, you darted away from him, retreating into the kitchenette, flicking the light as you went, as if the brightness could ward off the spell he’d cast. You yanked open a cupboard, hands trembling, and ripped out a glass, barely managing to fill it at the sink. “O-okay! Thank you for… Whatever you did, Harlequin! That was very helpful!” Your voice quivered, torn between gratitude and disbelief. “But don’t you need to head back to the Circus? It’s getting late!”

Harlequin drifted after you, a silhouette of cunning satisfaction, his grin spreading with the confidence of a victorious fox. “Trying to send me off so soon?” He teased. “Mm, but you’re right. I should make my exit, shouldn’t I? After all, I rather like you this way, delightfully undone, flushed and flustered. If I leave now, I can be sure of seeing you unravel all over again next time.”

You took a sip of water that went down heavily. “…Next time?”

“Next time.” There was an assurance in his tone, another promise. Then he turned round on his heel and made for the front door. “I will see you later then, my dear. Don’t forget to alert your landlord of your faulty lock!”

You took deep breaths, staring at the sink as you listened to his footsteps lead to the door, it open, then shut behind him. And like that you were alone again. Completely and utterly bewildered over the events, and somewhat concerned, and excited, over what Harlequin might do ‘next time’.

Author Note: I had so much fun writing this, almost too much fun. It's longer than the Pierrot one, sorry if it ended up being too long, sometimes words get away from me when I write XD

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The heart page break used here was made by me, so if you'd like to use it, feel free! 💚

Hope you enjoyed, and thank you for reading! All the replies I got on the last one made me so happy. Thank you for all your kind comments! Hopefully you like this one too!