Bloody Candies (Laughing Jack X Reader)

Ruby Face Paint

(Warnings: Captive reader, psychological torture, unhealthy relationships, possessive behavior, unhealthy coping mechanisms, blood)

Laughing Jack's face paint never came off. It made sense. You weren't sure what the clown was, but he definitely wasn't human, so he could probably look however he wanted to look.

Sometimes you wondered if your situation would be better or worse if Jack was human. On one hand, you would probably have a better chance of escape. Humans could be dangerous, but at the end of the day they were just that; human. They could be fought and they could be injured.

On the other hand, you weren't sure if you wanted to live in a world where a fellow human could commit such heinous acts. It was easier to see Jack as something without humanity or morals. It was easier to see him as a monster, and the ever present face paint helped you maintain that belief, most of the time.

"What's on your mind, love?" A raspy voice in your ear drew you out of your thoughts.

The pair of striped arms wrapped around your waist pulled you closer to the clown's body. The two of you sat in the center of the carnival's largest circus tent, in a nest of sorts. It was full of pillows, various fleece-like materials, and torn clothing.

You tried not to think of who previously wore those clothes. Instead you focused on appreciating the fact that it was probably the most comfortable place in the whole carnival, though that wasn't saying much.

"It's nothing..." you muttered, pressing your face into one of the pillows that rested on top of the nest, trying not to look him in the eye.

"You're lying to me," Jack said, chuckling maliciously, "You know I can always tell when you're lying to me, dear."

His grip on you tightened and you winced. You felt his sharp nails digging into your skin, and after a moment you decided to just tell him the truth. It wasn't worth another night of clawing and biting.

"You're facepaint, it's a part of you, right?" You asked, still refusing to look at him.

There was a short pause before Jack started to chuckle, which quickly grew into a hoarse laughing fit.

"Of course it is!" He said between fits of manic laughter. You weren't sure what was so funny about your question. Maybe Jack just found everything you did amusing. You weren't complaining. The longer he found entertainment in you, the longer you stayed alive.

"Well, you can't blame me for asking. Humans don't really run around in facepaint, unless it's Halloween or something," you muttered. At the mention of Halloween, Jack's laughter once again rang out. It was nearly deafening

"Oh, that holiday where little children dress up in disguises and beg for treats at the doors of strangers," he cackled. You made a sound of amusement in response. Something about the clinical way Jack described the holiday was funny to you.

"Yes, I guess you would enjoy it," you said.

"Well of course! It makes for the perfect hunting grounds..." he said, still laughing maniacally.

Before you could catch yourself, you scoffed. It was such a stereotypical response that you couldn't help yourself. You quickly began stammering, trying to distract him from your less than polite response.

"Uh, I would have figured you liked it because of the outfits. I mean, clowns are a popular costume," you said. Jack paused, as if deep in thought. It was probably only a few moments, but it felt like an eternity. You held your breath as you waited for his response.

"I suppose you're right. I do have a soft spot for the brats that try to emulate my kind," he finally said.

You weren't willing to dwell on the implications of what the clown meant when he referred to his 'kind.' Several minutes passed, seeming to signal the end of the bizarre conversation. You felt tired, and you weighed the dangers of letting yourself fall asleep here. Just as you decided the benefit was worth the risk and let your eyes begin to drift shut, a clawed hand grasped your face.