BEN Drowned x Reader

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((Before we get started, let's just take a second and admire that art up there *-*

A little warning for this one. There may be some triggers mentioned, and most likely there will be some foul language. Sorry if you don't like stuff like that, but...eh.

Key:
(W/o/c) - Weapon Of Choice
(Y/n) - Your Name))

You were a fairly new Pasta, having only killed thirty times so far. But you were getting there. However, unlike a lot of the other Creepypastas, you only killed those who you thought deserved death. Such as people who abused children or animals, people who raped, and so on. You were known as The Bringer of Death, more commonly referred to as The Lord's Reaper. Humans gave the silliest titles, you thought. You weren't that big of a deal, really. You just enjoyed justice. Ironic, right?

At the Mansion, you weren't taken to kindly by many. They thought of you as weak, claiming you hadn't killed enough yet or that your morals were ridiculous for a killer. Your biggest threat was Jeff The ever-so-rude Killer. He liked to pick on you, solely because you were smaller than him and weaker than him. Before, it was simply snide remarks and his insults, which you never cared about. You were the type who didn't let words bother you. But then he began to bully you physically. It started out as simple pushing, and you just took it, thinking of it as a nuisance.

But today, he had taken it too far and you snapped.

"Hey, kid! How was your spree last night? Did you finally bring yourself to actually KILL anything?" Jeff prodded, his infinite smile seeming extra annoying today. You just sighed, ignoring him as you cleaned off your (W/o/c) with tender movements. You treated your things with care, unlike him, chucking his knife around everywhere. But apparently, Jeffy Boy didn't like to be ignored.

"Hey, brat! I'm talking to you!" He growled a little, stepping closer. But, you ignored him again, staring at your weapon with a blank gaze as you cleaned it. He'll loose interest eventually if you don't give him a reaction. Or so you thought. "You weakling. No wonder it was so easy for daddy to rape you. You don't put up any fight at all!"

That did it.

Your entire body clenched up, and your grip on your weapon tightened to the point where your knuckles were white. No one, repeat NO ONE, brought up your past, NO ONE talked about what your father did. At least....they didn't do it and get away with it.

The other Pastas in the living room seemed to freeze, watching the scene in shocked silence. Slender was taken aback but Jeff's words; everyone knew you didn't tolerate mentions of your past. Eyeless Jack was about to step in, about to tell Jeff he took it too far, when you stood and popped your neck audibly. You stood there, eyes staring at the ground and hair falling in your face as if it were a curtain while your expression remained blank. Time seemed to stand still, and Jeff simply stared at you until you spoke.

"The Lord would like to see you now." You said in a monotone voice. Jeff grinned wide. That was the line you always muttered before ending a victim. This would be fun.

Face still blank, you launched at Jeff, waiting for him to dodge. You knew he would. Which is precisely why you planned to reach your leg out to get him right in the side of the head as soon as he moved. You may not kill often, but when you did, you were cold and calculating. The sound made when your shin met with his temple was satisfying to your ears, and a smirk played on your lips. "Sleep now the sleep of the Angels." You chuckled darkly, giving Jeff no time to gather himself as you readied your weapon to deliver the last blow.

You were just about to end it, ready to end HIM...

"STOP!" Slenderman's voice made you freeze. Damn. "Jeff, my office, now! (Y/n), I'll speak with you when I'm done with him." Your boss escorted Jeff to the study quite forcefully, and you could tell he was enraged. Everyone in the room simply stared at you, while you just stood there like before, but this time you were frowning in dissatisfaction. Why couldn't Slender have just waited for one more second, so you could have ended that Killer?!? The Lord would be displeased with you. You had promised him a new life to take, and failed to deliver.

With a small, throaty growl, you retreated to your room.

((Time skip))

It was late night. You sat on your bed, still dressed in your clothes which were stained with the fresh blood of your newest victims. Your legs were over the side of the bed, feet planted on the ground as you cleaned off your weapon while you sat hunched over, still displeased with earlier. Stupid Jeff. He was meant to be dead!

You had no clue how long you had sat there, just cleaning your baby and staining the white rag red as you did so, but you were growing more and more uneasy by the second. See, this is why no one mentioned your past. It caused you to have painful flashbacks. Some would call it PTSD. You called it a nuisance.

Images of what your father did to you flashed through your mind, making you even more angry. HE was the reason you brought justice upon others. That filth.

As time passed, you just got more and more uneasy. Finally fed up with it, you slammed your weapon down and made your way to BEN's room. BEN was one of the few Pastas you could call a friend. And he was your hook-up. Sorta. He had the game systems and when you felt angry but you were too lazy or too occupied to go out and kill, you played his games so you could vent your anger out.

Slamming BEN's door open, you simply invited yourself in. You usually weren't this rude, but tonight, you were in full-blast bitch mode. The Elvish boy jumped a little at your ubrupt entrance, but calmed down once he saw it was you. He stared at you for a minute before holding up the controller in his hands, cocking a brow. "Vent?" He inquired, knowing precisely what you needed.

After a good few rounds of Mortal Kombat and you beating the ENTIRE storyline gameplay, you felt better, flopping onto your back and letting out a huff as the credits rolled. BEN chuckled at you. "Feel better now?" He teased lightly. But the way he teased was good, it was friendly and playful. Entirely different from Jeff's. You nodded with a small smile, giving a hum as you did so. Your brain was on off-mode now.

With a sigh, you just layed there and listened to the music as the credits kept on, your eyes closed. "Maybe Jeff's right, though..." You began with a bit of thought behind your voice, gaining the Elf-eared boy's attention. He stared at you as you went on. "I don't fight back enough. If I want to prove that I'm not weak like he says, I need to make a stand and prove it to EVERYONE in the Mansion. What he said earlier was true. If I had faught back against my dad, what happened probably wouldn't have happened."

You trailed off there, eyes still closed and frown upon your face as BEN looked at you with a soft gaze. He hated it when you got like this. "(Y/c)....You know you can't keep blaming yourself for the past. This is the third time you've thought things like this...and you know that none of it is true. Jeff just likes to taunt smaller people like you and me because he feels like it's his way to vent out his own problems. Don't let the asshole get to you." BEN's words made you sigh a little, mainly at your own stupidity. He was right...you just needed to get your head straight.

"Thanks, BEN...for everything." You mumbled a little, your frown fading. The blonde who sat on the bed above you gave a soft smile. "No problem, princess. Now get up here so I can cuddle you."

You giggled a little when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you onto the bed to lay next to him. What did you ever do to be blessed by a boyfriend like him?

((Hey, I did a crappy attempt at making up for the romance thing! Yay, author-Chan sucks at writing! :D
Anywho, I hope this one wasn't too terrible. Bye for now, you Bombshell Beauties.))

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