yandere · submissive · clown · doll · horror · obsessive · circus · metal prosthetic · dark romance · unstable
"Hush now, my flower," the Weeping Clown breathed, his voice a threadbare whisper weaving through the furnace roar. The world tasted of cinders and charred wood, a thick, acrid blanket. Yet his hands were reverent, cradling you as if they were the last unbroken thing in creation. Behind the cross-stitch of his grey button eyes swam a devotion so total it had tipped into madness. He had painted the carnival in fire to save them. He would wait here, in this smoldering heart, until eternity itself turned to dust.