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Jack & Kate love story 🖤
The midnight air in the sprawling, shadowy woods was thick with fog, smelling faintly of pine, damp earth, and metallic iron. Kate moved silently through the underbrush, her pale leather mask gleaming under the fractured moonlight. The forest was her domain—a place where the noise of the world faded into the quiet rhythm of the hunt.
Suddenly, a faint, tinny melody echoed through the canopy. It was a distorted, slowed-down rendition of "Pop Goes the Weasel," drifting like smoke between the towering black oaks.
Kate stopped in her tracks, her grip tightening on her bloody hunting knife. Most would tremble at that carnival tune, but she only narrowed her eyes, tracing the sound to a clearing ahead.
Standing beneath the pale moon was Laughing Jack. His impossibly tall, monochromatic figure towered above the decaying leaves, feathers ruffling on his shoulders. His cone-shaped striped nose glinted as he turned, a wide, razor-sharp smile cutting across his chalk-white face.
"Well, well, well," Jack rasped, his voice bouncing between playful and dark as he materialized closer with a sudden burst of black mist. "Look who stumbled into my carnival! You don't look like a child looking for candy, little killer."
"I don't eat candy, Jack," Kate replied evenly, her voice muffled behind her mask as she stepped into the moonlight. "And this is my territory tonight."
Jack tilted his head, his chaotic yellow eyes locking onto hers with a sudden, rare intensity. Instead of his usual unhinged chuckle, a quiet fascination washed over him. In a world full of prey that screamed and begged, Kate stood unbothered, dangerous, and entirely unimpressed by his terrifying presence.
"Territory is such a small concept for someone so... captivating," Jack hummed, extending a long, clawed hand filled with a single black-and-white striped hard candy. "A gift. No tricks. Just a peace offering from one monster to another."
Kate stared at the candy, then looked up into his dark, hollow eyes. She stepped forward, ignoring the instinct that told her to keep her distance, and picked the piece from his elongated palm. Her gloved fingers lightly brushed his ice-cold skin, sending a strange spark through both of them—a rare warmth neither had felt in years.
"I don't trust peace offerings," Kate murmured, though she tucked the candy into her pocket. "But I might make an exception for you."
Jack's smile softened—not into his wide, predatory grin, but a genuine, crooked smirk. He leaned down, his long dark hair falling over his shoulders, hovering inches from her mask.
"Then let's make a deal, my deadly dark star," Jack whispered, his voice smooth and dangerously sweet. "We hunt together tonight. The woods are vast, but they're much more fun when shared."
Kate slid her knife into its sheath, looking up at the towering clown who held the nightmare world in his hands. For two souls built on shadows and fear, finding love wasn't about sweetness or light—it was about finding someone who understood the dark just as deeply.
"Lead the way, Jack," Kate said quietly. And as they disappeared into the deep woods together, the faint chime of a music box joined the rhythm of the night.Their first date was at Whispering Pines Fairgrounds—an abandoned Victorian-era amusement park resting on the edge of a jagged coastal cliff, long forgotten by the world and left to rot in the salty fog.
The rust-eaten ferris wheel stood against the bruised purple night sky like a skeletal titan, its carriage frames creaking rhythmically in the ocean wind. Shattered glass from carnival booths glittered like fallen stars across the moss-covered boardwalk. It was a place dead to humanity, which made it perfectly alive for them.
Jack took the lead, his long, shadow-draped arms gesturing to the decaying game stands as if presenting a grand ballroom. With a snap of his clawed fingers, the dead string lights along the midway flickered to life, glowing in erratic, ghostly hues of violet and monochrome white.
"Every proper date needs games, wouldn't you say?" Jack chuckled, his sharp smile gleaming as he handed Kate a heavy wooden ring he’d snatched out of thin air.
Kate lifted her mask slightly, her cool eyes reflecting the faint violet glow. She tossed the ring effortlessly across the booth, landing it squarely over the neck of a dusty glass bottle. Jack clapped his long, feathered hands with theatrical delight, summoning a bouquet of nightshades and velvet-black roses out of dark mist and placing them in her arm.
They walked up the winding stairs of the broken wooden rollercoaster, sitting together at the highest peak overlooking the crashing black waves below. Cold sea spray misted over them as Jack stretched his arm over her shoulders, his presence wrapping around her like a heavy, comforting shadow. Kate leaned into his side, resting her head against his shoulder, her hand resting over the hilt of her knife while his clawed fingers gently intertwined with hers.
Under the shattered lights of a forgotten carnival, surrounded by the ocean's roar and the ghost of old laughter, two monsters found a strange, quiet peace in each other's darkness.
Jack & Kate
The rain over the abandoned fairgrounds didn’t wash away the stench of rusted iron and old popcorn; it only made it heavy.
Kate pulled her black hood lower, shielding her eyes from the downpour. She adjusted her grip on the hunting knife, her thumb tracing the jagged line carved deep into her right cheek. It was an old wound, healed into a brutal, pale crimson grin that stretched from the corner of her mouth up toward her cheekbone—a permanent, mocking nightmare etched onto her face.
She wasn't looking for a fight tonight, just a dry place to lie low after a job in the nearby suburbs. But as she stepped through the rotting wooden gates of the funnel cake booth, a sound cut through the drum of the rain.
Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.
"Now, that is a dreary face for a carnival, my dear," a voice rasped from above.
Kate spun, knife raised instantly.
Dangling upside-down from the crossbeam of the booth was a towering figure in stark monochrome. Long, feather-like black hair fell toward the mud, and a striped, conical nose pointed straight at her. Laughing Jack swung gently back and forth, his pitch-black eyes crinkling behind a wide, needle-toothed grin.
"Get down from there before I cut the other half of your clown nose off," Kate growled, her voice a low, warning rasp.
Jack let out a bubbling, breathless wheeze of laughter and dropped effortlessly to the ground, landing with unnerving silence. He uncoiled his impossibly long limbs, towering over her like a shadow made of bandages and old fabric.
"Oh, a feisty one!" Jack chuckled, tilting his head with a sickening crack. He leaned in close, his pale face inches from hers. His eyes drifted from her icy stare down to her right cheek. His grin widened, exposing rows of razor-sharp teeth. "Well, look at that. Someone took a paintbrush to your mug. And here I thought I was the only one around here who appreciated a good smile."
"It's not a joke," Kate snarled, lunging forward with a swift horizontal slash aimed at his throat.
Jack dissolved into a puff of thick, black smoke. The blade sliced through nothing but air and rain.
"I never said it was!" Jack’s voice echoed from behind her.
Kate whipped around, but Jack was already leaning against a rusty carousel pole, casually tossing a piece of striped hard candy into the air and catching it.
"I think it suits you," Jack said, his tone dropping into something darker, edged with genuine amusement. "A little rough around the edges, sure. A bit crude. But the intent? Splendid. It gives you character, knife-girl."
Kate lowered her blade slightly, keeping her guard up as she studied the monochrome entity. "I don't need your approval, monochrome freak."
"Of course you don't!" Jack chirped, stepping closer. He didn't attack. Instead, he reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small, striped peppermint wrapped in yellowed cellophane. He offered it to her with a mock bow. "A token of appreciation from one lover of sharp grins to another. Consider it a peace offering for intruding on my territory."
Kate looked at the candy, then at the monstrous, towering clown. Her fingers twitched on the hilt of her knife, but the sheer absurdity of the moment washed over her. A faint, bitter twitch touched the left side of her mouth—matching the carved smile on her right.
"Keep the candy," Kate said, sheathing her knife in her belt. "I'll take the dry shelter under the grandstand."
"Deal!" Jack barked, clapping his long, clawed hands together. "Just don't mind the noise if I decide to practice my accordion."
Kate walked past him, her boots squelching in the mud. As she passed, Jack offered a dramatic, sweeping salute, his permanent, terrifying smile mirroring the jagged scar that defined her face. For one night in the rotting fairgrounds, two monsters had found a rare, silent truce in the dark.
local emo a little strange but its okay (I've never drawn him before so I messed up his nose a lot but its wtv) ((I put little heart highlights in his eyes can you even see them))
I made an animation for my creepypasta au
I'm very creepypasta pilled rn
We should all go back to talking about the slender mansion
If u wanna read more about it Im working on it on unvale
U can check it out if u want
my own au versions of classic creepypasta characters TW: this story will contain mentions of abuse, sa, child neglect, slurs, and general ho
Laughing jack in love ❤️
The scent of ancient, dried peppermint always heralded his arrival.
He uncoiled from the shadows of her bedroom corner like spilled black ink—twisting, impossible limbs stretching until his striped sleeves nearly brushed the ceiling. His monochrome monochrome feathers rustled softly, and a jagged, razor-sharp grin parted his blackened lips. Laughing Jack was expecting screams. He always was. He thrived on the delicate, frantic beating of a terrified human heart.
Instead, Maeve just popped another sour gummy worm into her mouth and clicked her pen.
"You're late," she whispered, not even looking up from her sketchbook. "The carnival tune in my head started at midnight. It’s almost twelve-thirty."
Jack froze mid-loom, his long, pointed nose twitching. His white, pupilless eyes narrowed in silent bewilderment. He slid closer, his rubbery joints bending with unsettling clicks until his towering frame was crouched at eye level with her small wooden desk. His shadow engulfed her entirely, cold and heavy, carrying the faint, sweet decay of old sugar.
"You aren't afraid of the monochrome clown under your bed, little bird?" he rasp-giggled, the sound echoing like a rusted music box turning in an empty hallway. He extended one needle-sharp fingernail, gently tracing the line of her jawline. A single drop of dark, molasses-like syrup dripped from his black claw onto her skin.
Maeve didn't flinch. She simply tilted her head, reached into her nightstand drawer, and pulled out a hand-wrapped piece of black-and-white striped candy.
"I made this for you," she said softly, holding it up between two fingers. "Blackberry and clove. I thought the red ones were getting boring for you."
Jack's ghoulish laughter hitched in his throat. He stared at the small twist of wax paper, then at her—a strange, pale girl with dark circles under her eyes and a smile that held just a little too much shadows of its own. Slowly, delicately, he scooped the sweet from her palm with the tip of his elongated tongue.
The dark flavor burst across his palate—bitter, sharp, and intensely sweet.
A sound escaped his chest that was half-purr, half-maniacal chuckle. He wrapped his long, shadowy arms around her shoulders, pulling her gently into his ice-cold chest. His monochrome feathers tickled her neck as he rested his heavy chin on her shoulder, his needle teeth dangerously close to her jugular—yet brushing against her skin with terrifying tenderness.
"A girl made of nightshades and sugar," Jack whispered, his voice low and vibrating through her ribcage. "How delightful. How delicious."
Maeve leaned back into the freezing darkness of his hug, wrapping her arms around his striped waist. "Does this mean you're staying?"
Jack snapped his spindly fingers, and the small room filled with the soft, faint melody of Pop Goes the Weasel, played on tiny glass bells. Black confetti floated down from the ceiling like velvet snow.
"Forever and ever, my sweet little nightmare," he cackled softly, placing a cold kiss right on the crown of her head. "We're going to tear the circus down together."
Not a Jermajesty fanfic 🌚 cause I think the one I was writing would probably get taken down, but I’ve been getting back into creepypasta and I want to make a Laughing Jack fic so here’s a draft!! (Testing layouts so please ignore the weird colours n stuff)
For your whole entire life, you’ve always had a weird obsession with the creepypasta tales. The gruesome stories of each character always put you in a trance. Since you were little, your favorite tale had always been Laughing Jack. Although he wasn’t physically attractive, his uncanny and sadistic mannerisms made you swoon over him. But, of course, you knew he wasn’t real.
Seeing as you were now a college sophomore, you’re inherently “nerdy” instead was wildly unaccepted, and your peers often went out of their way to torment you for your interests. Honestly, you don’t remember the last time you weren’t bullied. From 1st grade to sophomore year in college, you had always been deemed an outcast from your peers.
Before college, you always thought it was a bit cliché that people still bothered to bully or actually harass others, and you always had success ignoring any of the targeted antics, but this year, the bullying became relentless. You made the mistake of ranting about your love for creepypasta to a girl you considered a friend, but you soon realised she had spread rumours about you and got her friends to start harassing you.
That’s exactly what led to this faithful day. Those same girls had lured you to an abandoned carnival almost 20 miles from campus. You had no way of traveling back and no service on your phone. “Great,” you murmured as the cold October breeze blew your locs in every direction. You had no other option but to travel deeper into the rust-filled carnival to seek shelter until someone from campus realised you’d gone missing. Hopefully, you hadn’t died by then.
In the mean time survival was the only thing you needed to focus on. You hadn’t actually realised where you were for a while before you saw it. A cardboard cut out of a clown! As horrible of a situation this was your excitement temporarily took a hold of you.
“Sickkk”
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I’m still relatively new to writing so please bare with me 😭🙏🏾
