Benjamin Jacobs - Tumblr Posts

~Ａｇｅ  Ｃｈａｒｔ~

Jeff the Killer: He’s two years older than his brother, and he was fifteen whenever he killed their father and took off with Liu, which makes him twenty-one now.

BEN Drowned: He’s fifteen, one of the youngest in Slender Manor.

Eyeless Jack: He’s immortal. He was only eighteen when he died, so technically he still is, at least in human form. 

Kagekao: He was cursed from the time he was born, though he only stopped physically aging when he turned twenty.

Hoody: He’s twenty-five; old enough to be mature and make responsible decisions, yet young enough to be physically fit, which is the main reason he was made head proxy.

Masky/Tim: Only one year older than Brian, Tim is twenty-six.

Sally: She’s still a child, and will always be a child. Physically, she’s eight, but because of all the trauma she’s been exposed to at such a young age, she isn’t ignorant to the world’s horrors, making her seem mentally older than she actually is at times. 

Ticci-Toby: He’s now twenty, which means he was seventeen when he was made a proxy.

X-Virus: Cody is sixteen. He was pretty young when he became a Creepypasta, being only twelve at the time.

Clockwork: Natalie is eighteen, even though she acts like she’s an angsty preteen.

Jane: Ironically, she’s the same age as Jeff, which she very much dislikes, because that means she can’t put up the argument that she’s older and therefore wiser. He can’t either, though.

Homicidal Liu: He was merely thirteen when Jeff snapped and they ran away from the law together, and that would make him nineteen now.

Sully: Since he’s a separate identity from Liu, he of course has his own age, origin, and appearance. He claims to be twenty-four years old.

Bloody Painter: He’s twenty-nine, though has the mindset of a very calm and sensible forty-year-old. 

Zero: Alice was thirteen when Zero took over, now she’s kinda-sorta immortal? She ages one year in every five years, so if she was still a normal human, she’d be in her thirties, but she’s only seventeen.

Smile Dog: He’s pretty old, and is also immortal, being about forty years old. He looks like a nearly-grown puppy, though, despite his terrifying size.

Grinny Cat: Same as Smile; he’s immortal, and around a hundred years old.

Slenderman: He’s been around since earth was created. He’s definitely the oldest Creep to ever live.

Truth or Dare w/ the Creeps (OLD)

Y\N: Who wants to play Truth or Dare?

BEN: Sure.

Cody: Yeah, me, me!

Natalie: Eh, why the hell not.

Jeff: That game is for dumb kids.

Y\N: You’re right, Jeff. Which is why you need to play.

Jeff: Huffs and walks away

Liu: Count me in.

Y\N: Great! Clockwork, truth or dare?

Natalie: Dare.

Y\N: I dare you to kiss the floor.

Natalie: That is such a generic dare it’s comical.

Y\N: Or, ya know, you could always kiss someone...

Natalie: Hell no. Kisses the floor Blegh. When was the last time somebody washed this fucking thing?

Liu: If I remember correctly, you had mopping duty yesterday.

Natalie: Shut your mouth, you two-faced freak.

Sully: I’m not the one with a stopwatch in my fucking eye socket, now am I?

Natalie: Psh. At least I only have one identity.

Sully: I make Liu a whole lot more interesting. Come to think of it, you need another personality.

Y\N: Okay girls, you’re both pretty. Let’s continue the game, shall we?

Sully: Call me a girl again and you’ll regret it.

Natalie: Call me pretty again and I’ll shove a clock into your eye.

Cody: Not if I protect her.

Natalie: Okay. I’ll shove a clock into both of your eyes.

BEN: TRUTH OR DARE! Just say TRUTH OR DARE.

Natalie: Truth or dare... Sully.

Y\N, whispering: Oh this will be interesting.

Sully: Dare. Bring it on, tick-tock.

Natalie: Narrow eyes I dare you to go outside and get eaten by the Rake.

Sully: Ladies first.

Natalie: It wasn’t my dare.

Y\N: Okay Nat, the dares have to be non-lethal.

Natalie: This game has no rules.

Y\N: It does when you want someone to kill themselves.

Natalie: Who says?

Y\N: Yours truly.

Natalie: If I can’t send someone to their grave, I don’t wanna be a part of this.

Sully: Fine by me.

Natalie: Now if you noobs can survive without me, I have a murder to commit.

BEN: We can definitely survive without you.

Natalie: Fine, elf boy. 

Y\N: Clock, don’t leave. We’re in the middle of a game!

Natalie: Ta-ta for now, losers. Walks away

Sully: Well now that we got rid of her... Doll, truth or dare?

Y\N: Are you talking to me?

BEN: I think he’s talking to you.

Y\N: Truth.

Sully: Who do you like most, me or Liu?

Y\N: That isn’t a fair question!

Sully: Just answer it. 

Y\N: I like both of you the same amount!

Sully: No you don’t. I’m better.

Y\N: You both are annoying as hell. I have no more feelings for you than I do Liu.

Sully: Winks Okay, I’ll keep it between us.

Y\N: Rolls eyes BEN, truth or dare?

BEN: Dare. And make it saucy.

Y\N: ... 

Y\N: Okay, go eat two spoonfuls of hot sauce.

BEN: Wait- not that kind of saucy!

Y\N: You should’ve specified.

BEN: Groans

BEN: Gets up and goes to the kitchen

After eating hot sauce

BEN: Internally screaming

Y\N: You okay there, BEN~?

BEN: I-I’m fine. Cody, truth or dare?

Cody: Dare!

BEN: I dare you to leave and not come back.

Cody: ...Oh.

Y\N: BEN. Pick someone else or give him another dare.

BEN: No. He has to complete the dare or he forfeits.

Y\N: Grabs Cody’s hand He isn’t leaving.

BEN: Why do you care so much, anyway?

Y\N: Because he is a part of this game and he will be treated as such.

Cody: Blushes

BEN: Fiiiine! If you’re gonna be so crazy about it. I dare you to stay still the whole rest of the game.

Cody: Okay. Y\N!

Y\N: Hm?

Cody: Truth or dare?

Y\N: Dare...

Cody: I dare you to sing Baby Got Back.

Y\N: Wut.

BEN: Giggles 

Liu: Stares at you with a smirk

Y\N: You’re kidding me.

Cody: Nope!

Y\N: ...

Y\N: I... like big... butts and I cannot lie...

The boys: Snickers

Y\N: Cringes You other brothers can’t deny... that when a girl walks in with an... itty bitty waist and a round thing in your face... you get sprung... want to pull up tough...

BEN: STOP, stop, I can’t take it! Laughing hysterically

Y\N: Alright, shut it! Blushes 

Sully: Never did I think I’d see the day when Y\N sung a song about loving a girl’s ass.

Y\N: Cody made me!

Cody: And it was so worth it! Snickers

BEN: Cody, bud, I may have underestimated you.

Y\N: Huffs indignantly Liu, truth or dare.

Liu: Stifles laughter Truth, please.

Y\N: Glares What’s your favorite game?

Sully: Taunting Jeffery and his ugly clown face.

Y\N: I asked Liu, Sully.

Liu: What, like board games, or...?

Y\N: Just overall.

Liu: Chess, probably... although I like Monopoly and Charades.

Y\N: Cool! Maybe we can play one of those next. And get some other residents involved...

BEN: Sounds good.

Sully: Not that psycho clock girl, right?

Y\N: She already left. I doubt she’d be willing to come back.

Sully: Well, you won’t catch me trying to convince her.

Y\N: I wouldn’t have expected to.

Frap

[BEN]: Sitting on the couch playing games

[Jeff]: Hey BEN.

[BEN]: What?

[Jeff]: What’s it called when you take a dump and fart at the same time?

[BEN]: Oh, that’s easy. It’s a shart.

[Jeff]: Really? I was thinking more along the lines of a foop.

[Y\n, walking up behind them]: Whatcha talking about?

[BEN]: We’re discussing what it’s called when you fart and shit at the same time.

[Y\n]: ...

[Y\n]: Frap.

[BEN]:

[Jeff]:

[BEN]: I love it.

Favorite Christmas Quotes

Jeff: “Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal. Gunshot And a Happy New Year.”

Sally: “I am a cotton-headed ninny muggins!”

Zero: “You’ll shoot your eye out, kid.”

Brian: “When Santa squeezes his fat ass down that chimney tonight, he’s gonna find the jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse.”

Tim: “I’m gonna deck your halls, bub.”

Cody: “Nobody sent me a Christmas card today. I almost wish there weren’t a holiday season. I know nobody likes me. Why do we have to have a holiday season to emphasize it?”

Liu: “You say you hate Washington’s Birthday or Thanksgiving, and nobody cares, but you say you hate Christmas, and people treat you like you’re a leper.” 

Sully: “I Have A Machine Gun. Ho Ho Ho.”

Toby: “It’s Christmas Eve. It’s the one night of the year when we all act a little nicer, we smile a little easier, we cheer a little more. For a couple of hours out of the whole year we are the people that we always hoped we would be.”

Jack: “I don’t know what to say, but it’s Christmas, and we’re all in misery.”

Natalie: “He’s an angry elf.”

Helen: “My balls are freezing. I never thought I’d say that with a smile on my face.”

Candy Pop: “Blast this Christmas music. It’s joyful and triumphant.” 

Jane: “I myself believe that when it comes to matters of the heart, the only sin is turning your back on love because of what other people think.” 

Kagekao: “If I could work my will, every idiot who goes about with ‘Merry Christmas’ on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart!”

BEN: “I’m going to buy them their Christmas turkey.” “Buy? Do you really mean ‘buy’?” “Yes, buy! In the Spirit of Christmas. The hard part’s going to be stealing the money to pay for it.”

Johnny: “You're skipping Christmas! Isn't that against the law?”

A Hapless Endearment [Creepypasta x F. Reader]

Yayyy, the second chapter is done! Enjoy~

Chapter 2- Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

It's hard to make sense of anything around her. The static making itself ever-present in her mind is almost crippling. It blocks out all of her thoughts. Distant whispers erupt throughout the endless grays and blacks. It's like she's fallen into a void. Like she can't escape.

A breeze suddenly blows past her. It's burning hot but somehow icy-cold at the same time. It gives her a feeling of terror, utter, raw fear that grips at her heart and squeezes her lungs. She finds it hard to breathe. She looks around frantically. It's the same. Everything is the same. She can't even see a floor beneath her feet, but she knows it's there. It has to be there. What else would she be standing on?

The static grows stronger, louder, overwhelming her senses and making her grab at her head in a desperate effort to make it stop. The breeze billows and the voices become more distinct. But she still can't hear what they're saying. Are they even saying anything? Or are they just murmurs of agony riding the wind and reaching her ears?

"Y\n..."

That voice. Something about that voice sends shivers down her spine, makes her heart speed up to an unhealthy rate. Her gaze averts around, trying to find a source, but she ultimately fails.

"Child... come."

'Come'?  Come where? The static in her mind seems to thicken and still at the same time, greatly confusing her, and she furrows her eyebrows. A fog graces her feet as it rolls across the seemingly invisible ground, bringing a sensation of dread and impending doom with it. She backs away, though finds it does nothing, as the area surrounding her goes nowhere.

"Come to us..."

"Who are you?!" she yells, but immediately tenses. She can't hear herself. Her voice has been... muted. The static continues to get stronger, and she hits the side of her head, trying to stop it. It cancels out her thoughts, makes her feel helpless. All while a suffocating feeling settles in her chest and it becomes more and more difficult to collect oxygen.

"Join me... Come..."

***

Her grip on the sheets covering her torso tightens as she shoots up in bed, instantly being greeted by light from the morning sun shining in through the window and making her squint her eyes and turn her head. She takes deep breaths, savoring the air finally invading her lungs as she tries to calm her rapid heartbeat.

She has had a lot of weird dreams before, but none compare to the one she just woke up from. She stares at nothing, in particular, blinking away the tears that formed in her eyes and refusing to cry. Taking notice of the fluffy feline curled up on her thighs and looking up at her with startled eyes, clearly not happy about being woken up, she lets out a soft sigh and strokes his back, finally able to steady her nerves and focus on more positive things.

"Sorry I disturbed your precious beauty sleep," she mutters sarcastically, wiping her eyes to get herself awake. She tries to brush the dream off as nothing, just stress creeping its way into her head and giving her freaky thoughts. But something about it just... unnerves her. Like it is much more serious than what she wants herself to think.

Leaning her back against the wall of her bed, she runs her hands through her messy hair and releases a yawn, rubbing her eyes before grabbing her phone off of the stool that she had pushed up beside her bed the previous night and turning it on, curious to see if anybody sent her a message and wanting to get her mind off of the nightmare.

None. She drops her phone by her side and slumps down, disheartened. I guess nobody cares, anymore. Then again, who can blame them? I'm just an inconvenience, anyway.

She managed to catch a glimpse of the time in the top right corner of her phone before she turned it off, discovering it's around 9:40 in the morning. "Sorry, buddy. I've gotta get up," she says, looking down at the cat in her lap that just got settled and is now trying to go back to sleep. His ear twitches in recognition, and she runs her fingers through his thick fur before gently sliding him off of her and standing up.

When her bare feet touch the chilled, hard-wood floor, she flinches and jumps onto the fluffy rug in the room's center, trying to get used to the surface in her mind's still hazy state. She glances back at the bed, and her e\c orbs land on Marshmallow, who is looking at her in obvious distaste. She narrows her eyes.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. It's not like you can't sleep any other time of the day." He blinks and stands, stretching for a moment before turning away from her and lying back down. "Okay, fine, be that way. I bet you won't be mad when I give you some beef jerky later."

With that, she looks at the closet, then down at the floor, knowing what needs to be done and mentally preparing herself for it. C'mon Y\n, it's just a floor. A floor made of ice... but a floor, nonetheless. Quit being a pansy and go.

Sucking in a breath of encouragement, she steps onto the wood and lets out a squeak, her pace quickening the closer she gets to the closed door. "Right about now would be a good time to have slippers," she murmurs to herself, opening the door and stepping inside. She sifts through the different clothes, deciding what she wants to wear though not having to look for long.

She throws on some shorts and a t-shirt, socks, and a pair of tennis shoes before stepping back out and heading toward the bathroom, hoping that nobody else is occupying it at the moment. To her luck, once she's out of her room, she finds it empty and strolls inside, closing the door behind her and flicking the light switch up.

After flushing the toilet and washing her hands, she does everything in her morning routine before walking out into the hall and heading down the stairs, instantly catching the whiff of a pleasant scent wafting from the kitchen. Farrah takes notice of her granddaughter entering the doorway and sends her a welcoming smile as she takes a pan of biscuits out of the oven.

"Good morning, hun," she chirps, removing her oven mitts and turning to face her. "How did you sleep?" Y\n walks closer and shrugs, remembering the endless, dull scenery and the eerie voice whispering those words to her in her head.

"I mean... I had a pretty unsettling dream but, other than that, I slept fine." Farrah hums and tilts her head slightly. "What about you, Nana?"

"A lot more peacefully now that I know you're here under the same roof," she replies, giving her a brief hug, which Y\n gladly returns. "So, you hungry? I made breakfast!" Y\n glances over at the stovetop and nearly drools when she sees freshly-cooked bacon resting on a plate, scrambled eggs in a skillet, and the same pan of biscuits placed beside them. She can feel her stomach start to rumble the more she stares at it, so she just nods over-enthusiastically and goes to retrieve a plate and fork from where they were set on the island in preparation.

"This all looks delicious, Nana," she comments, scooping some eggs onto her plate after getting several pieces of fried pork. Her eyes meet Farrah's, and she sends her a grateful look. "Thanks for making it all."

"Oh, it was no trouble at all, just like you, my dear, are no trouble at all." She pats her affectionately on the head before sliding her hand down to cup her cheek and smiling. "Now go eat your food and enjoy it." Y\n nods, taking a step back and laying the plate full of food on the counter, aiming to get butter and jelly out of the fridge. She also grabs a spoon and butter knife afterward, using them to smear the two substances across the soft inside of her biscuits before grabbing her plate once again and strolling through the living area and into the dining room.

She pulls a chair out from under the table and takes her seat, anxious to get some food in her stomach and finally start her day. Farrah soon appears with her own platter of breakfast and sits beside her, the two chatting about various things as they eat, and time seems to fly by. At around 10:25, Y\n rises from the chair and heads back to the kitchen, feeling properly filled-up as she rinses her dishes.

Her gaze averts to the window behind the sink, being greeted by the bright morning sunlight and the colorful scenery that she doesn’t get the advantage of seeing in the city, where she, unfortunately, was born and raised. She spots her grandfather, sitting in an old chair out on the lawn and admiring nature at its finest, seemingly lost in thought.

Allowing a fond smile to stretch across her face, she dries her hands on a towel hanging from a rack before poking her head back into the living room. “Hey, Nana…”

“Yes, hun?” She twists her body around slightly to meet Y\n’s eyes in curiosity, and Y\n grips the door frame with her hand and leans forward, letting her arm keep her stabilized so she doesn’t fall over.

“I think I’m gonna go outside for a while if you don’t need me here for anything.” Farrah nods.

“That’s a good idea, Marshmallow needs to be let out, anyway.” As if on cue, the fluffy feline walks down the stairs, tail high in the air and head raised as he jumps to the floor and stops in front of the closed door, sitting down and looking at Y\n expectantly. “Where are you gonna go?”

“I dunno.” She shrugs, glancing down at Marshmallow and meeting his bright blue orbs. “I was just thinking about going on a walk, or something.”

“Yes, some fresh air will do you good after breathing all of that polluted city stuff.” She takes a sip of her coffee thoughtfully. "Just be careful and keep an eye out for bears. Or anything dangerous, for that matter."

"Yes, ma'am." She nods in understanding and steps over to the door, opening both it and the screen and allowing Marshmallow to prance through and onto the porch, likely eager to go about his daily hunt and roam. Following behind him and shutting the door behind her, a warm, familiar breeze hits her in the face as she does so, and she once again averts her eyes over to Phil. "Good morning, Pops." Her voice raises just enough to get his attention, and sure enough, his head turns her direction before the corner of his lips quirk upward in a cheery smile.

"Hey, hummingbird! Did you sleep okay?" She bites the inside of her cheek and leisurely makes her way down the stone path leading toward the gate. Thinking back to her eldritch dream, she stuffs her hands in her pockets and answers quietly.

"As well as I could, I guess..." Though when he doesn't seem to hear her, she rewords her sentence and speaks up. "I slept fine. What about you?"

"Ah, well. You know how it is with all these old joints and bones. They never give you a break."

"Sorry." She breathes a sympathetic laugh. "But I can't say I have any experience in that field." He releases a snort in response and leans back in the old patio chair, raising a thick, bushy eyebrow.

"Yeah, that's 'cause you're a spring chicken. Trust me darlin', the years'll catch up to you eventually. And then you'll look like me." He pats his rotund belly for emphasis, and she rolls her eyes playfully and can't stop the amused huff from exiting her lips.

"I'm sure I will, Pops."

"Where are ya going?" She unlatches the gate and glances at him before nodding her head in the direction of the opaque forest surrounding the quaint property.

"Walking. I thought I'd try to... get a better feel for this place, again." She notices his face seems to soften ever so slightly, and he briefly looks past the many tall trees, into the shaded woods, and lets a breath out of his nose before meeting her gaze once more.

"I'm sorry you haven't been here to visit, Y\n." Her chest constricts and she shifts her eyes down to the ground uncomfortably. "It's not right for your dad- your parents- to put themselves before you. They shouldn't treat you the way they do. I wish you'd let me do something about it." She only shrugs solemnly, her mood doing a one-eighty and dropping to the floor, though she tries to mask it and instead forces a smile on her face that she hopes is reassuring.

"It's isn't your fault. Dad's just... just a jerk and Mom is..." She sees it's difficult to find correct words to describe her mother, and after a moment to think, shakes her head dismissively. "They-they have issues. But yeah, don't be sorry, I'm okay. Two more years and I'll be outta there, anyway."

"Well... you're more than welcome to stay here, for as long as you need. It gets lonely around here without anyone visiting us." She brushes a strand of h\c hair out of her eyes and tilts her head curiously.

"Nobody visits you? Not even Aunt Darcy?" Her stomach does a concerned flip when she sees his facial expression turn from mildly sympathetic to alarmed in an instant, and her eyebrows furrow, questions zipping through her mind at lightning speed. His hands, she notices, clench the arms of the chair and his breathing seems to have quickened, if only slightly. "Pops...?"

"I-I, uh..." He lets an anxious breath flow out of his mouth as he runs his wrinkled fingers through his hair. "Yeah, no, your aunt doesn't come. She hasn't, not in a while..." Y\n can sense the tension in this conversation, and how strange Phil's sudden change in behavior is. Hesitantly, she speaks, her voice low.

"Wh-why? Did you guys fight or something?" Although she hasn't seen her aunt in over five years, she still remembers her clearly, and she knows that she wouldn't ever willingly avoid Phil and Farrah. Unlike Darcy's brother, she isn't a sour person and wouldn't let something as ridiculous as a disagreement get in the way of their relationship, especially since her son Wyatt always loved hanging around here.

"No." He shakes his head lightly and refuses to meet the e\c eyes of the girl as he collects his thoughts and puts them into words. "Look... we'll talk about it later, alright? You just go and enjoy your walk." He dismisses her with a wave of his hand, though she doesn't move, and instead stares at him with an obscure expression painted across her face.

"What's wrong, Pops? Did something bad happen?"

"It's fine, sweetheart," he reassures, his tone vagarious. "Be careful out there. Don't want to get mauled by a wild dog, do ya?"

"Gee, what a pleasant thought," she mutters sarcastically, but figures that he isn't going to give her the answers that she so desperately craves at this point. I'll try my luck with Nana when I get back, she thinks, letting out a dismayed sigh before stepping through the gate and locking it back. "No, sir. I'll be careful."

When she receives no response, she turns on her heel and heads toward where she remembers the old trail used to be, the previous subject heavy on her mind. That was weird. Has Darcy really not come to visit her parents at all? For how long? She supposes that she has been gone for a very prolonged amount of time and she's sure to have missed some things, but just how important are these things? Something obviously happened between her grandparents and her aunt. But what? Hopefully, she'll get a reasonable answer when she comes back.

She walks under the willow tree beside the cottage and is unable to stop herself from glancing down the road, where her mom and dad disappeared a mere day ago and left her behind with the parents that her father absolutely refuses to talk to, reconnect with in any way, all because of a petty argument.

Nah. She narrows her eyes in indignation. He's just always been selfish. And unfair. And a terrible person. That 'argument' was just what pushed him over the edge. What even was their argument about? She wracks her mind but can't seem to recall any moment where her dad actually explained what was going on, not to her, anyway. In fact, the only time he graced her with an answer at all was when she gathered up the courage to ask him why they haven't visited Nana and Pops in so long. She believes that she had just turned twelve a few weeks prior when she became curious about it and walked up to him one day in the living room.

"Hey, Dad?" He hadn't even looked up at her. Didn't give any attention to his only child. "Daddy?"

"What do you want." It came out as more of a demand than it was an actual question. Still, he didn't look up at her, and she had taken a seat beside him on the couch.

"Um, I was just wondering... we haven't seen Nana and Pops in a while-" She cut herself off when she was met with the sharp, threatening glare of her father, becoming instantly uncomfortable as she stared back uncertainly. It had taken her off-guard, as she had never seen her dad's eyes as cold as they were at that moment. Especially when they were looking at her.

"I don't want to hear anything about them." The way he had said that sentence made her heart drop in concern, and she flashed him a bewildered look.

"...What? Wh-why?"

"Don't ask questions. Just don't mention them." Puzzled would have been a good word for how Y\n was feeling at that moment. Thoughts were swarming her mind, and despite the hard, final tone of voice her father had, she continued.

"But... they're your parents? A-and I miss them. Don't you miss them, too? It's been almost a year-"

"What'd I say?" He snapped at her, his lips pressed together into a firm, angered line. "Don't. Mention. Them."

"Dad-"

"My God, you're more persistent than your mother." He shot her a disappointed look, though she only craned her neck to the side.

"What's wrong...?"

"Arguments, Y\n. Arguments about crap that doesn't concern you." She couldn't stop herself from flinching slightly at the harshness of his words.

"Dad..."

"Stop talking and go to your room." When she stayed still, looking at him with wide, questioning eyes, he released a huff of irritation. "Now."

Shaking her head disapprovingly at the distant memory, she eventually rediscovers the path that she traversed down so many times, back when she was merely a child, before she had so many problems in her life. It appears to have not been used in quite a while, as there are weeds growing up from the ground, low-hanging branches swooping down and entangling together, making a sort of archway. The grass is extremely overgrown, and just by looking at it, she would guess that each blade would have to be around three feet high.

She suddenly looks down at her bare legs, a little nervous about stepping through the tall grass likely housing ticks and traced with thorns. Maybe I should've worn jeans instead... Letting out a defeated sigh, she cautiously steps through the tall, twisty foliage, trying her best to avoid getting scratched by a brier or catching her foot in a weed and tripping.

She glances up and ahead of her, feeling relieved that the shrubbery thins out just a few feet down the path and should be easily manageable. She just has to get there in one piece. Carefully, she takes several slow steps forward, the grass tickling her legs each time she moves, though she brushes it off and focuses on making it through.

Should’ve brought some branch cutters or something. After a couple of minutes, she arrives in a less hazardous area, and instinctively reaches down to brush her legs and feet off, just in case there are some bugs that may have been taking refuge on them, though to her ease, finds none. She places her hands into her pockets and continues her stroll through the peaceful forest, savoring the natural sounds erupting from all around her.

The chirps of the birds and rustling of leaves create a relaxing cadence; a sound that she rarely ever gets the pleasure of hearing. She only just realizes how much she missed being here, able to roam around, enjoy the area without the interruption of her parents, city life, or just drama in general. Letting out a tranquil sigh, she wonders how long she can stay here. How long will her parents be gone? It isn't like they care about her absence anyway, that much is apparent. The only reason they'd come back is because of their work, their fancy jobs working for some billionaire company that Y\n could care less about. Sure, they make a pretty good living off of it, and it isn't the worst job in the world, but it takes up all of their life. At least when she was little they made time for her, but now? They don't even bat an eye in her direction.

Do they even still love me? It's a question she's asked herself a multitude of times throughout the last few months, but the answer was always too painful to accept. They haven't said it since... since I was fourteen. She remembers it clearly. It was her fourteenth birthday, they had a cool party, her best friends came, back when she still had some, and her parents took a little time to make her feel special, which, even at that point, was a rare trait to exhibit. But they did it.

Her father had hugged her and told her that she's beautiful, her mother had stroked her hair, explaining to her how much she meant to her. That she loved her. It was the last wholesome moment they ever shared together, and thinking about that makes her chest ache with loneliness. Although she wants to think that she still holds a special place in their hearts, she knows that the odds aren't in her favor.

She allows a sad chuckle to exit her l\c lips as she shakes her head. Oh, well. A girl can dream, right?

___

The masked male walks swiftly through the dense forest, staying attentive as he listens to everything around him. The quiet tweets of blue jays, the rustling of leaves, the flow of a nearby stream- all normal. Which is good. That means nothing out-of-the-ordinary is lurking around, following him. At least, nothing that isn't remaining silent. But he's grown accustomed to his surroundings, and he's confident that he'd be able to recognize a threat, whatever form it may take, from wherever it may have been hiding at.

He feels his phone vibrate from within the confines of his pocket and inwardly rolls his eyes. That's the fifth time in the last three minutes that Ben has texted him. He's sure that he's still going on about how something is "urgent" and that he has to "get here ASAP". What does he think he's doing? Moving at a snail's pace? Ben's house is over half a mile away from his own, and he's only been walking for about five minutes. No matter how speedy and agile he can be, he still isn't Superman. Shouldn't Ben know that? Moving from one place to another takes time.

After around two more minutes, he finally sees the old cabin come into view, shrouded by vines, weeds, and various other greenery. To oblivious, inexperienced eyes, it's nearly undetectable, which is perfect. It doesn't draw attention, which is something that Hoody, among others, greatly prefer. Any poor soul that may wander this far into the woods and see it, or any of the others, will be taken care of. Immediately. They can't take a risk. It would be too dangerous.

By the time the phone buzzes a sixth time, Hoody is already coming to a stop in front of the rustic-looking door that's made of the same taupe ash wood as the rest of the house, with some minor improvements to better ensure safety. The whole place, whether one's standing from afar or looking at it close-up, seems like it would be very insubstantial and a hazard to be around, much less live in. But in all reality, it makes quite a good home for the two that take residence there, and it's most definitely safer than it may first appear to be, thanks to a few key individuals and their useful carpenter abilities.

He knocks quietly on the hard surface, stuffing his hands inside of his pockets and waiting patiently for Ben to stop hounding him with text messages, notice that he's right outside, and allow him in. Shouldn't he already know where he is? That's why he installed one hundred cameras around the area, right? To observe what's happening without having to leave the comfort of his chair? Or perhaps that's what he wants to see Hoody about; complain that his cameras are malfunctioning and ask for assistance. Though he doesn't know how much he'll be able to assist him because he doesn't have half the knowledge that Ben has regarding electronics. But he'll do what he can if it means getting one of their main lines of defense up and running again.

He's pulled out of his thoughts when yet another message comes through his phone and makes it vibrate against his leg, a feeling he's really beginning to get irritated by. Releasing a muffled sigh and deciding it would be better to just check whatever text he just received instead of ignoring it altogether, he pulls out the small device, and swipes down on the notification tab, seeing not six, but ten unread messages from the teenager himself, all of which consist of either "where are you?", "you gotta get here quickly", or "hurry your butt up, you depressed son of a cracker".

"Ah, screw you, too," he mutters to the screen, knowing full well that its target won't be able to hear him. Unless he has the audio turned on and is secretly listening to him talk. The little creep, he can't help but think before he finally reaches the last and most recent message.

Just come in, the door's unlocked

Obeying the message, he grips the knob of the door with his gloved hand and gives it one swift turn, pushing once he hears a small 'click' and entering the cozy-looking household while shoving his phone into the back pocket of his jeans where it rightfully belongs. The interior is nothing special; a kitchen with a small bar and plenty of counter space to spare to the right, a living room with an old, dingy-looking sofa, a couple of chairs, and a coffee table to the left, and a narrow hallway straight ahead, which has five different doors leading to five different places. Two of them lead to bedrooms, one a bathroom, one a laundry room, and the one at the very end is an entrance into the basement, also known as Ben's office.

Shutting the door behind him, he ventures farther into the familiar area, counting on the sunbeams currently shining through the dirty windows to light his path and take him to his destination. Where is his destination? Not able to see Ben nor his roommate anywhere, he assumes that either one or both have to be in the basement, so he begins his trek through the darkened hall until he reaches the closed door, once again wrapping his hand around the metal knob and giving it a firm twist before it creaks open, giving him access into the electronically-lit room below.

He can hear faint voices getting louder as he calmly walks down the staircase, one reasonably deep and the other about a pitch or so higher. He descends downward until reaching the ground, glancing to his left and being met with two easily-recognizable figures due to their odd features.

One of them is sat rather comfortably in a computer chair that he no doubt stole from Amazon, his blond hair swept to the side in a messy, boyish style. He sports a pair of converse, black skinny jeans, a dark green Halo 5 t-shirt, and a beanie. His appearance would be startlingly normal if he lacked the glowing, red eyes and the tears of blood that slowly cascade down his deathly pale cheeks.

Standing leaned against the wall next to him is someone nearly three feet taller, body clothed in all black save for the navy blue mask that covers his face and the strands of copper-brown hair sticking out from under his hood. His eyes are nothing but soulless, empty pits that replace where his once chestnut ones used to be, the sockets constantly leaking a thick black substance similar to that of tar and leaving sticky trails down his mask.

Both heads turn to look at Hoody when he appears behind them, and Ben instantly jumps up, his shorter-than-average height noticeable, especially when compared to taller people, like Hoody and Jack. "It's about time you get here, slowpoke!"

Ignoring the comment, the man clad in a mustard-yellow hoodie crosses his arms impatiently and eyes the one in the corner of the room for a moment before turning his attention back on the blond in front of him. "Now, what exactly was so important that it couldn't wait a couple of hours?" His voice is low and calm, but authoritative, and Ben glances at Jack anxiously.

"We think that egg head is going after someone else to make his slave." Hoody raises a brow beneath his ski mask and gazes down at the boy curiously.

"How do you know?"

"Cause Jack's been getting these-these, um, feelings? For a while. I don't know, wh-what kind of feelings, like-like bad kind of, weird and freaky feelings, maybe since a week or so ago, then he walked by somebody after, y'know, stocking up on his, uhm, diet... and he said they emitted a really strong, like, odor? Or something? And then-"

"Ben," Hoody speaks, cutting the boy off in the middle of his sentence and ultimately silencing him. "Just let Jack explain it." His lips part to say something, though he only lets out a quiet huff after a moment before plopping back down in front of the multiple monitors of different areas in the forest and leaning backward in a sulking manner. "Right." He sighs and signals for Jack to begin speaking, to which he nods and complies.

"I've been feeling... strange, lately," he starts, his voice deep and muffled though decipherable nonetheless. His hands are stuffed into his hoodie pockets as he lightly boosts himself off of the wall with his foot and stands at his full height. "A kind of... tingling, in my chest and mind, but not a good one. More of a... ominous kinda tingling, like something bad is about to happen, or someone's fixing to get hurt. But I don't know who."

Hoody processes this newly-received information and listens with keen ears, inquisitively waiting for the eyeless man to continue.

"But earlier today, after leaving a house, this feeling got a lot stronger. And it was really sudden, like, it just hit me. I couldn't figure out what was happening until after I looked around a bit and noticed someone walking down some grown-out path. And somehow, immediately after I saw her, I knew that she was in danger."

"Wait, wait, wait," Ben interrupts, holding out his hands in a silencing gesture. "It was a girl? You didn't tell me that."

"Because I was waiting to inform the more mature ones who actually focus on the situation rather than something as ridiculous as gender," he remarks, making Ben scoff. Hoody, ignoring Ben altogether, turns to completely face Jack in order to further question him about the somewhat surprising matter, neck craned to the side slightly.

"Okay, but why does this mean that it's connected somehow to him? Did she cough? Did you hear any static?" He merely shakes his head in the negative.

"No. I just know that something sinister is going on and that feeling I've been getting the past couple of days is definitely coming from her. Just an evil, dangerous aura surrounded her, which is why I'm sure that he's involved." Hoody rubs at his head, finding it hard to doubt a word that Jack's saying. He's never been one to lie, after all, and being a reincarnated version of his former self gives him certain... supernatural abilities, that others don't have. Not even the two ghosts of their group.

He stands there a moment, still and quiet as his mind swarms with questions, before looking at the navy blue mask but having to avoid direct eye-contact with the empty sockets in his face due to making him feel uncomfortable. Not that it can be seen, anyway. "Um... alright, well. What do you suggest we do about it?" He earns an unsure shrug in response.

"I guess we could just eliminate her. It would throw off whatever his plan is and get her out of the cycle before she inevitably gets hurt."

"Unless he brings her back," he points out. "Then she'd be more powerful and we'd have another one to fight against."

"That... does make sense. But we can't just leave her there to become a victim. Either she'll accept him or he kills her. Which would just be one more innocent wiped out by his hands."

"We could bring her back here!" Ben suddenly speaks up, once again rising out of his seat and painting a confident look across his ghostly features. "I mean, she wouldn't be in immediate danger and we could tell her what's going on so she knows what to do and what to avoid."

"But then she'd be endangering us." He shoves his hands back into his pockets and takes a step closer. “And what if she’s already under his influence, huh? We’d be leading him straight toward us and there’s no way we’re strong enough nor do we have the numbers to fight him and his group of freaks.”

“Yeah, but what if she’s not? I mean, we need the extra set of hands, anyway. She could be useful!”

“At what cost? The lives and freedom of everyone here? It would be stupid to bring her here, especially since we don’t know anything about her.”

“Jack!” Ben turns his attention to the tall, lanky man standing silent, hoping to get somewhere with him. “You’re the demon here, so is she dangerous?” He plants his masked face in the palm of his hand in the universal sign of ‘oh my God, you’re an idiot’ before answering, his voice low.

“I don’t know, Ben. She seemed totally normal, but I didn’t get a very good look.”

“There ya go, boomer.” His red pupils shift back up to look at Hoody, his eyebrows raised. “She’s not dangerous. We can bring her.”

“For the record, I’m only six years older than you,” he starts, attempting to bite down his exasperation with the teenager and speaking with a level tone, to which he receives an eye roll. “And Jack didn’t say she wasn’t dangerous, he just said she looked normal. They’re two totally different things.”

“Whatever.” He places his hands behind his head carelessly. “I still vote that we bring her here.”

“We’ll ask the others and get their opinions. Jack,” His head turns to look at the mentioned boy, “is there anything else I should know about these ‘feelings’ or the girl you saw?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Okay then. Ben, call everyone and tell them to meet up at my place within the next thirty minutes.” The tone of his voice leaves no room for argument, and without question, Ben whips out his, now slightly outdated, cellphone and begins to text each person in his contacts exactly what Hoody told him to say.

“Oh, by the way, I fixed your phone.” He pulls out a small flip-phone from his pocket and tosses it to Jack, and he effortlessly catches it and slides it into his pocket, muttering a ‘thanks’ while he does so. Hoody turns to leave, though before he starts climbing the stairs he speaks once more.

“You both need to come, too. We all need to discuss this and figure something out before tomorrow.” They nod in reply, and he disappears from their sight.

At Your Service (OLD)

[Ben]: Yo Masky, make me a sandwich, will ya?

[Masky]: Yo Ben, get your lazy ass up and make one yourself.

[Ben]: Well, geez, you don’t have to be rude about it.

[Y\n, literally a minute later]: Tim... I’m hungry.

[Masky]: Already rushing to the kitchen Of course, Y\n.

[Ben]: ... Scoffs

[Ben]: Now that’s favoritism.

Cooking

Can cook:

-Brian

-Jane

-Tim

-Zero

-Liu

-Kagekao

Can’t cook:

-Jonathan

-Candy Pop

-Sully

-Clockwork

-Jeff

-Ben

Doesn’t cook:

-Jack

-Sally

-Helen

-Toby

Can’t cook but tries to anyway:

-Cody

A Hapless Endearment [Creepypasta x F. Reader]

Chapter 5- Shatter Me

————————————

"So you used to come here a lot, then?"

"All the time. I guess it was just the perfect place to... hang out, and not be disturbed." She shrugs, her feet dangling past the large tree branch as she gazes down idly into the wide body of water below the two of them. Its surface is glistening with sunlight, and she imagines schools of fish, small turtles, and fresh tadpoles to be swimming underneath. She had forgotten just how peaceful it was here, completely away from society, where it allows her to be alone with her thoughts.

"That's understandable. It is a nice area. Really quiet." He leans his back against the trunk of the tree, his eyes shifting up to the sky currently overcast by fluffy clouds and keeping half of his concentration directed at his task. "You liked solitude, then."

"What do you mean?" She glances at him curiously, and he meets her eyes for a short moment.

"You came here alone all the time, right? So you must've liked solitude."

"Oh, well, I mean—" She shakes her head, trying to collect her words and say them in a sensible manner. "No, I didn't come alone all the time. Mostly, I had Wyatt... with me..." Her voice lowers the more she talks, and she feels a wave of grief wash over her, once again. She knows she won't be able to successfully hide her emotions, so she turns her head away and tries to compose herself. There's a few seconds of silence before Jack speaks.

"...Wyatt?" There's a sense of recognition in his tone, and she curls her knees up and into her chest instinctively, holding back a tear. "Wyatt... Colson?" Her eyes dart to him, her expression molding into one of consternation.

"...How did you know that?" It doesn't cross her mind that murder and a disappearance draws attention from all places, and that word spreads fast. She also doesn't realize that he, among others, have been keeping tabs on mysterious and abrupt events such as that one, and he knows the names by heart.

"Uh, w-well," He replaces his startled expression with one of veracity and oblivion. "he was the guy that went missing, right? Heard it from... my mom." He seems unsure, and she furrows her eyebrows though doesn't comment on it. There are more important things to fret over.

"Yeah..." The word comes out as a mere whisper as her eyes avert down to her hands. "I guess... I guess he is."

"You were close?" he asks, leaning forward slightly. She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Um, y-yeah, I mean... he was my cousin."

"Oh..." His gaze softens as he absentmindedly fiddles with a loose thread hanging from his hoodie, tilting his head to the side. "That's unfortunate... sorry." A forlorn sigh travels from between her lips before she can stop it, and she shakes her head lightly.

"Yeah, well... there's nothing you can do about it. Things happen."

"If it makes you feel any better, I lost my dad when I was just a kid." Her eyes move up to meet his curiously, and he glances down at his hands. "Car accident. It really crushed my mom, I don't think she ever got over it." Sympathy shines within her eyes, and she replies.

"Wow. I'm sorry."

"Eh, don't be. It was a long time ago, I hardly even remember the guy." Changing the subject, he leans toward her and asks another question. " Do you have any other family down here?"

"Besides my grandparents? No." A serene breath flows out of her nose as she watches the leaves in the trees rustle and feels the breeze glide through her hair, giving her an inkling of solace. "I used to have a couple of friends that I played with sometimes. Don't know where they went, though."

He nods in understanding, squinting his eyes as the sun's bright beam reflects off of the water and hits him straight in the face, screwing with his whacky sight. Perhaps this isn't the best place to be sitting at the moment. She turns her head to look at him once again, though parts her lips in concern and narrows her eyes. "Uh... you okay?" When she receives a slightly confused expression, she clarifies, growing perplexed. "Your nose? It's bleeding."

Only then does he feel the warm, sticky substance drip down slowly until it reaches his lip, and he lifts the back of his hand up to wipe it away, unintentionally smearing it across his skin. "Oh, yeah, um." He uses his sleeve to get the rest of it off his face, though it proves fruitless when even more of the liquid crimson continues to run out of his nose. "This is— I mean, it's normal."

She furrows her eyebrows suspiciously, taking notice of the sudden nervousness present in his voice. "Really? It looks kinda..."

"No, no, it's fine." He takes a Kleenex out of his pocket and presses it to his nostril in an effort to slow the bleeding as he considers the height of the tree the both of them are sat in. "But... I should get going, before my mom, uh... worries." He twists his body around until his foot is securely settled on a tree branch to his right, and he begins to climb down.

"Uh, yeah... okay." She watches him skillfully maneuver from tree branch to tree branch, never missing a beat and moving at a pace faster than she could ever dream of. She hadn't observed his actions when he first followed her up the tree, too busy focusing on not slipping and breaking her neck. Now that she's paying attention, she finds herself intrigued. "You're pretty good at that. Were there trees where you come from?" It's a bit of a strangely-worded question, though she figures it gets the point across well enough.

He jumps to the ground and looks up at her, shrugging and once again being pressured to wipe the blood away from his face. "There was a really nice one a while back, but lightning hit and destroyed it during a storm." She hums in response, realizing that he likely can't hear it from the ground due to the distance between the two of them. A faint buzzing sound erupts through her ears, and she swats at the air, her first guess being that a fly or bee found its way to her and decided to test her patience.

"You can find your way back, right?" She raises her voice, hoping that he's able to understand her. Thankfully, he nods in confirmation.

"Yeah, I'm good." The buzzing continuously grows louder, and as a result, she jerks her head from side to side, trying to get a look at whatever pesky insect decided to torment her and put a stop to it, but she fails to see anything. "Can you find your way back?" She runs a hand through her hair to see if there's something nestled inside, though to her relief, doesn't find anything.

"Nah, I came all the way out here without knowing where I was going." He releases a light chuckle, noticing her sudden change in behavior and craning his neck farther back to get a better look at her.

"Something wrong?" The buzzing only grows louder, and it becomes more difficult to hear what he's saying clearly, though she manages and presses a hand to her ear.

"I-I think it's just a bug or somethin'." As the obnoxious noise increases, a headache presents itself, and she taps her temple with the heel of her hand to get a handle on what she's hearing. At the same time, Jack's chest starts to tingle with a familiar ominous feeling and his gaze falls to the trees around him, searching for the source frantically as apprehension dawns on his face.

Thinking now would be an acceptable time to get out of the tree before she ends up falling into the water, she carefully scoots toward the trunk, hoping the sound will dissipate if she gets away from whatever's nest she mistakenly disturbed. She glances down at Jack, her vision becoming strained for unknown reasons, and lets out a startled gasp at what she sees.

His skin seems to have darkened to an unnatural tone, looking more like an ashen grey than the pale ivory that it was previously, and in place of his eyes are black, endless sockets with some type of thick substance that steadily leaks down his cheeks.

It's an alarming sight indeed, but before she can say anything about it, her vision becomes clearer and she notices that he looks just like himself, again. That was... weird. She grasps a branch, still attempting to clear the headache and unpleasant buzzing as she cautiously makes her own way down the tall tree. I must be going crazy.

Her sight is obscured once again, making her blink to try and rid herself of the blurriness. She shakes her head as the buzzing turns from bearable to unexplainably harsh, greatly disorienting her as a wave of dizziness strikes her body. Her grip tightens around the branches that are currently supporting her weight, and she leans into the tree, not willing to move and risk falling to the ground below.

"Jack... how many feet would you say I had to brave before I reach the bottom?" She only asks because she fears looking down would cause her to lose her balance. Through the thick droning, she hears only silence. Maybe he didn't hear me. "Jack?" She makes a point to speak louder to ensure that she's discerned, but still, he doesn't respond, and she bites her lip nervously. Don't tell me he left. "Jack?"

"Y-yeah, no, you're not far. Could probably jump if you wanted." Tension is released from her chest, and she wills her body to calm down. She doesn't catch how his voice wavers anxiously as he knots his eyebrows together, not looking away from the forest and what it may hold within.

She lets out a breath that she means to reassure her, though it only makes her hands shake as she every so slowly descends further down, her feet staying locked on whichever branches she blindly steps on to act as her support system. Hey, this isn't so bad. Just take it slow... and you'll be down in no time. It's a piece of cake.

But she thinks too soon, for not three seconds later, an invisible force latches itself around her shoulders, and before she can even react, she's being pushed away from the tree. Her fingers untangle themselves and her feet lose their place, shock traveling through her mind and making her briefly paralyzed. She feels her heart skip a beat as her breathing momentarily stops, eyes snapping shut and brain in a frenzy. All she can think about is hitting the ground. Smashing her head on a rock. Breaking her arm. Twisting her leg. A stick being stabbed through her back and impaling her.

The outcomes seem endless as gravity forces her body closer and closer to the ground, but instead of dying and going to heaven, she feels strong arms loop themselves under her own, not stopping her legs from colliding rather hard with the ground but cradling her torso and cushioning her head with a sturdy chest.

Her heart still runs what feels like a thousand beats per second, and the world around her slowly starts moving again. Her mind is able to comprehend what happened fairly quickly, and she cracks her eyes open, gaze moving up and landing on Jack's face, sunlight from above darkening the edges and making it seem as if he's glowing a bright yellow. She expects him to look startled, if not slightly amused, but is taken off-guard when she instead sees that a concerned, distraught expression is etched across his admittedly handsome features.

She feels something wet drip onto her cheek, just below her eye, and assumes it to be some of the blood from his nose, therefore doesn't make it her first priority to wipe it away for fear of seeming rude. His eyes nervously shift around the two of them as he hurriedly pulls her to her feet, keeping a hand on her shoulder until she's stable. Her hand grips the tree trunk as her body is hit by another overwhelming dizzy spell, content that the buzzing in her ears has stilled and mentally praying that the headache will go away.

"You okay?" She rubs the side of her head gently, trying to soothe the pain and nods.

"I think so. Thanks, Jack." With that same hand, she discreetly swipes it along her cheek, removing the blood that was oozing without much thought and glancing down at it. What she sees confuses her, and she brings her hand closer to her face to get a better look. What is now smeared across her skin is a rich, tar-like solidity, similar to what she 'saw' coming out of his eyes, or lack thereof. But that isn't possible. Maybe it's just such a deep scarlet that causes it to look unusually dark.

Feeling a bit disgusted but more so befuddled, she wipes it on the tree and gets the majority off of her hand. Who bleeds black blood? She knows for a fact that the liquid coming from his nose before looked thin and was a bright red, so what changed about it? Perhaps it's only her perception; after all, she isn't exactly in the best shape right now, mentally or physically. So she turns to ask him about that very thing, only to blink in surprise when she finds he isn't there.

She takes a couple of unsteady strides forward to see if he's hiding behind a tree, or somehow blending in incredibly well, though she isn't successful. "Jack?" She glances around, toward the trail they followed to get here, but again, she's unable to see him anywhere. "Jack!" A feeling of urgency fills her heart, urgency about what though, she hasn't a clue. He was about to leave, but she expected a goodbye of sorts, not a sudden disappearance. Besides, she would have heard him leave, right? He was just right behind her. Where could he have gone so quickly? "Jack, is this a prank?"

A brief cough exits her mouth, but she doesn't pay it any mind, too focused on finding the boy. She stumbles toward the path, bending over and rinsing the goop off of her hand in the river water beside her but being careful not to topple over into it. Another cough, this one more forced, and she clutches at her head to ease the pain each one brings. Looking down the length of the path, she sees nobody, which greatly confuses her.

"Jack! Seriously, are you hiding?" A moment later she presses her mouth into her arm to conceal the strained coughs that now steadily erupt from within and tries to catch her breath. "Jack—" This time she's cut off as another violent hack comes from her throat, leaving it scratchy and her desperate. She doubles over and shuts her eyes tightly, bearing the turmoil that her body is suddenly putting her through for unknown reasons.

Her stomach grows queasy and her head throbs, stressed tears brimming her eyes as the coughs only worsen after each second. Before she can even grasp what's happening, her legs collapse and she falls straight to the grassy terrain below, fighting for any breath of oxygen that she can possibly get only to come up empty every time. The tears now fall, streaming across the bridge of her nose all the way down to the tip before dropping.

Her fingers withdraw and clutch handfuls of dirt as her body shakes vigorously, though not from fear, merely from distress. Her mind is in a haze of agony, making her hyper-focus on one thing only; breathing. She feels as if her organs have become detached and are going to spew from her mouth any second, and a fierce burning sensation in her lungs makes her gag as stomach acid arises, dribbling down her lip. Her hacking is combined with pained sobbing, her condition only getting more gut-wrenching the longer it continues, all the while that same unpleasant buzzing never quiets and abuses her ears with its shrill pitch.

Her stomach convulses and sends half-digested food up through her body, and consequently, she retches and it gets spit right below her face. The discomfort fogging her mind begins to dissipate, and the hacking she was forced to suffer through comes to an abrupt stop, finally allowing her to suck in a deep breath of air that her body has been struggling to grasp. A few more light coughs come out of her mouth, and she rolls on her side, trying to recover as she gasps for much-needed oxygen.

Her muscles loosen themselves in relief, and she lets out a quiet cry, a mixture of both alleviation and affliction. She lays there for around five minutes, gathering her bearings and recuperating from the unforeseen exertion, before taking in a soft breath and fluttering her eyes open. The terrible droning, at once, fades away and gives her a chance to get her thoughts straight. She weakly pushes herself up, unable to stop from looking down at the pile of acid, regurgitated food, and blood laying on the grass that her body pushed out.

She gently places her hand on her sore, scratchy throat and massages it, hoping to soothe a bit of the pain, if not all of it, and trying not to have a panic attack over the fact that she nearly hacked her very own lungs out not seven minutes ago. Stray tears dribble down her warmed cheeks and she wipes saliva from her chin, finding the strength eventually to stand to her feet and begin her slow, thoughtful trek back to her grandparents' cottage.

___

His feet feel almost weightless as he runs at high speeds, far higher than what the average person could ever go, his body twisting whenever necessary to ensure he doesn’t accidentally slam into one of the hundreds of trees around him. His mask is now pushed back over his face and hiding the dark grey tone of his skin and the sharp rows of teeth in his mouth, though his empty sockets remain visible.

The tingling in his chest begins to lessen the farther away he gets from the river, but he doesn’t take it as a sign to slow down. Instead, he quickens his pace, avoiding the thick foliage, leaping over a fallen tree, and sliding down a small hill, in a hurry to make it back. He fears the worst could happen if he were to stop.

Easily navigating through the familiar forest and toward Hoody’s house, his lungs aren’t even starting to get tired and his legs aren’t yet begging for a break, only a few of the advantages of being a literal demon. Even in a rush, he still somehow manages to be stealthy, so much so that nobody could hear him unless they were listening extra closely. The area around him lacks most of its natural color through his perspective, and even a bit of its shape, but that only means his hearing, among other senses, are keener and are able to detect threats from far off.

He can see the scenery that surrounds him, though the details leave quite a bit to be desired. The black, slimy tears continuously cascade down his navy-blue mask and fall to the ground beneath his boots; it would be pointless trying to keep them at bay. He learned this long ago, and now it doesn’t even cross his mind.

Finally, the old cabin comes into view, camouflaged by weeds, low-hanging vines, and overgrown grass, making the perfect place to take residence in. He sprints until he’s at the front door, and knocks swiftly, clearly frantic and in need of attention. He knows that the man must be there, for he was the one who told Jack to report back to him when he was finished with the assigned task, and he’s been gone for several hours at this point, so he must be expecting him back soon.

To his relief, it only takes a minute before the door swings open, revealing the tall man— though shorter in comparison to Jack— clad in a mustard-brown hoodie and black and red ski mask standing in the entrance of his home sweet home. He tilts his head up at him, narrowing his eyes though it can’t be seen from behind the stretchy piece of cloth covering his face and any emotion he may otherwise show.

After a moment, he nods in silent greeting and steps to the side, giving Jack room to walk into the house as Hoody closes the door behind them. He turns to face him once again, leaning casually against the door frame and studying Jack’s body language. “What’d you find out?”

His sentence is short and straight-to-the-point, not surprising Jack in the least. Hoody was never one to stretch things out; he’d much rather just hear what needs to be said using as few words as possible. Jack allows his muscles to relax slightly, now eased by the knowledge that he’s currently in a safer area than he was previously, and quickly collects his thoughts.

“It’s worse than I thought,” he starts, voice muffled by the mask shrouding his face. “He wants her and he wants her soon. If we’re gonna do something about it we need to act quickly, otherwise, it’s a lost cause.” Hoody crosses his arms in understanding, processing the information that his trusted companion is delivering to him.

“Do you know where she lives?” Jack shakes his head.

“No, but she told me that she’s here visiting family. She’ll be leaving eventually, if she’s not gotten to, first.”

“What family?”

“Grandparents. You know that couple that got murdered a while back?” He receives a curt nod in response. “Apparently, they were her relatives. Aunt and uncle.”

“They had a kid.”

“Yeah, Wyatt Colson. Adopted. He was her cousin.” Jack shoves his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, waiting through a brief silence before speaking again. “They were close, she and him.”

“Did you get her name?”

“Y\n L\n.” Hoody pulls his phone out of his jeans, focusing on the screen as he scrolls his contacts and looks for one labeled ‘Ben’, clicking on it and shooting him a quick text telling him the girl’s name and to research her immediately. He gets an effortless ‘yup’ soon after, and stuffs his phone back in his pocket, turning his attention back on Jack for more information.

“How old is she?”

“Young. Only sixteen.” Jack subconsciously bounces on the heels of his shoes, though the action is barely noticeable and disregarded by Hoody, who keeps his gaze locked onto the boy’s masked face. “She was nice. Something was definitely troubling her, though. I could feel it.”

“So she’s emotionally vulnerable. That makes her easy bait.”

“Maybe. He was messing with her head, but she was trying to resist it.” Jack remembers her odd behavior before he left, and he recalls feeling pressure in his mind as she gripped at her hair. She looked distraught, though he could sense that she wasn’t giving into the fog of thoughts her mind was likely being covered in at the time. Not easily.

“What do you think about it?” he asks, and Jack considers the question a short moment.

“I think she may stand a chance. From what she told me, she seems to come from a more or less broken family. All the more fire to fuel her hate. That could be a good or a bad thing.”

“We’ll see what Ben’s results are, then make a final decision.” Jack nods, not quite wanting to just forget about her and let her fall victim to the inevitable like so many others before her. He senses potential, something that isn’t very common for them. He would be less than content to just brush her aside as if she was simply meaningless to all of them, knowing they could have helped, possibly saved a soul from eternal torment and what could be referred to as slavery.

He is well aware that it would be a big risk, bringing another person to their base after so many years of isolation, and he knows it could easily result in catastrophe. But he isn’t very doubtful about this particular case; he saw no reason to be when he was speaking with her. She seemed innocent enough, then again, it’s always the ‘innocent’ ones that end up stabbing you in the back.

All he knows is that if they’re going to do something, they need to do it soon, because she’s in immediate danger, and he has a feeling she doesn’t even realize it. She won’t until it’s too late.

___

Her eyes drift up from the dirt to the familiar cottage that she’s grown acquainted with during the past few days, and she releases a shaky breath, the action itself causing her mild pain in the back of her throat. God, water sounds so refreshing right now. She walks closer, only noticing her grandfather sitting on the porch when she reaches the gateway and avoids direct eye contact. She knows that he’s going to try and speak to her, especially considering the conversation this morning, and she wants to dodge that until she feels a bit more like herself.

She’s still totally puzzled at what happened over an hour ago and has wracked her brain for answers, only to fail each time. Maybe she just caught the stomach flu? But stomach flues make you throw up, not cough until you feel like you’ll explode at any moment. Perhaps something got caught in her throat and triggered her gag reflex? Highly doubtful. Gag reflex doesn’t work like that.

She forces a fleeting smile across her face as she draws nearer, but drops the act once she sees that his eyes are closed, his lips are parted, and soft snores exit his mouth as his head is leaned comfortably against the wall behind him. Oh good. He’s asleep.

Hopefully, she can sneak in undetected by her grandmother, who is most likely up at this point in the day and well aware of her surroundings. She steps quietly onto the porch and grips the handle of the screen door, pulling it open and cringing when it makes a long, drawn-out squeak in response. She glances at Pops in concern, shoulders relaxing when she sees him still dozed off.

Her facial expression twists into one of agitation as she opens the second door, this time with less caution, and walks inside, knowing that her Nana had to have heard that obnoxious noise. Her hearing is relatively better than her husband’s, after all. Her gaze shifts toward the living room, biting the inside of her cheek when she catches a glimpse of her grandmother sitting on the recliner beside the couch, glasses on and attention directed at the book in her hands.

She doesn’t seem to have noticed Y\n come inside, much to her relief, and she looks at the staircase directly ahead of her, glancing in-between Nana and it as she silently closes the door and wonders if she can pull this off. It’s only a few feet away, but Nana would surely see her walking and be interested in a conversation. The very thing that Y\n desperately wants to avoid for the time being.

She swallows, inwardly wincing at the discomfort that radiates from the back of her throat, and carefully moves forward, hoping beyond hope that Nana won’t spot her. “Oh, hi, Y\n.” The girl freezes, turning her gaze back toward Farrah and meeting her eyes regretfully. “You were out a while, this time. Almost five hours.”

She nods, not wanting to speak unless absolutely necessary, at least not until she gets ahold of some pain relievers. The elderly woman tilts her head forward, setting the book in her lap and giving her granddaughter her full attention.

“I didn’t know you could cook.” Y\n’s eyebrows knit together in confusion before she pieces it together in her head and allows a knowing expression to form across her face. After hearing the silence, Nana speaks, again. “It was good, Y\n. Thank you.” She hums in reply, wanting to leave it at that, however, when she starts walking up the stairs, she hears her grandmother’s voice. “Are you alright?”

She nods once more, making her exit quick and shuffling up the staircase, stopping only when she reaches her room. She grabs her bag and digs through it, eventually grasping a plastic bag filled with various medicine that she thought was appropriate to bring along with her, just in case. She pulls out the bottle labeled ‘Tylenol’ and unscrews the cap, pouring two of the red, blue, and white capsules into her palm before putting their container back into the bag.

She grabs her water bottle and, after a moment of hesitation, swallows the medicine without much trouble, taking a sip of water afterward to subdue the pain a bit. She then sits on her bed, hands tangling themselves in her hair as she tries to hold the weight of stress on her shoulders. It still feels hard for her to fully process, everything does, really. She almost wants to cry again, but refrains, mainly because it would only cause her greater physical pain, and that’s one of the last things she wants right now.

The sun shining in through her window hits her back and warms her insides, bringing her a sense of consolation. It will be okay. It has to be, right? She will get through these trials. She can handle them. Can’t she?

A quiet whimper forces itself from her mouth, and she covers her face in an effort to compose herself. Why me? Why now? She hears her phone chime from her pocket, indicating she just received a text. That’s strange. Nobody ever cares enough to text her anymore. Growing curious and wanting to focus on anything other than her pathetically devastating situation, she slides it out and presses the sleep button, quickly typing out the password and going to her messages.

Unknown number? She blinks and wipes away a tear before it’s able to fall from her eye, looking down at the glowing screen and clicking on the contact. It reads, “Yo, is this Y\n?”

“What the…” She can’t help but mutter, ignoring the twinge of pain it causes and furrowing her eyebrows in bemusement. Is it somebody from school? Her thoughts then turn to Jack, though she shakes her head in disregard, deciding that it wouldn’t be possible. We never exchanged numbers.

After staring at her phone for two minutes straight, she sends a message back, almost certain that somebody from her school somehow got her number from one of her friends. Or, well, ‘acquaintances’, at this stage in her life. “Yes… with whom am I speaking?”

She waits for a response, tapping her finger against her leg absentmindedly and gazing through the window. Her e\c eyes land on the treeline, halfway expecting to see something standing outside. It reminds her of when she awoke last night and saw that mysterious, eerie figure posing at the edge of the forest, its creepy white mask standing out in the dark of the night.

Even after several minutes, she doesn't get a response, and she comes to the conclusion that it's likely a prank, no matter how strange and abrupt it is, and tosses her phone on her bed, choosing to forget about it. A movement in the doorway draws her awareness, and she turns her head in that direction, raising her eyebrows when she sees Nana standing there with a commiserate expression painted across her wrinkled features.

"Sweetheart..." Y\n cranes her neck to the side and parts her lips, beginning to feel the Tylenol take effect and lessen the aching in her throat.

"Nana?" Farrah rubs the back of her neck, almost nervously, as she walks farther into the room. "Is... something wrong?"

"Your grandpa told me what happened this morning... I'm sorry, baby." She makes her way beside Y\n, sitting on the bed and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Y\n's posture slumps as she realizes what she's referring to, and her gaze shifts down to her lap. She twiddles her fingers, sensing the tension in the air between the two of them. "Are you gonna be okay?"

She waits a moment, thinking over her reply. She doesn't want to worry her, besides, she's positive this has been extremely hard on Nana and Pops, much harder than it could have ever been on her. That was their daughter, their grandchild. And that, on top of already having lost their son to ridiculous family disagreements? And not having the emotional support of anybody but themselves? It makes her feel terrible for them.

"Yeah..." She clears her throat, looking anywhere in the room but Nana, and fighting the tears threatening to spill onto her cheeks. "Y-yeah, I'll be fine. It's... fine." Her voice cracks, and she feels Farrah's fingers ghost through her hair to calm her down, console her in some way.

"Hun, if you need to talk, or anything else, you can come to me. I know it's a lot of... hard information to process, and so suddenly, too." She only nods wistfully, not even trying to mask the hurt on her face, anymore. Nana notices and gives her a quick hug before standing to her feet and exiting the room, leaving the girl sitting alone once again, with a heavy heart and an uncanny suspicion that things are about to get even more dreadful from here on out.

How are you doing? Damn girl I missed your stuff about Ben 🌞 I'd love it if you wrote some things about him. Literally anything, when you have time and interest for this.

I'm doing well! Thanks for the hug ^^ You never specified what you wanted so what you get below is what my delirious brain came up with at 11 o'clock at night - enjoy anyway though!! <3

Ben Drowned S\O Headcanons

Ben has a reputation in a lot of peoples' personal AUs as being a sex-driven, perverted little asshole. but lemme tell you now, this certainly is not the case with our favorite Link look-alike.

Whenever the subject of 'love' or 'sex' comes up, especially around you, his ears turn all red and his whole body just kind of stiffens up as he goes into silent mode.

If he does start talking, however, he'll end up stumbling over his words, his voice will go squeaky as if he's teleported back into the early stages of puberty, and his eyes will look at virtually anything but you out of pure embarrassment.

It really is adorable, you must say.

It's moments like these when you lay on the PDA really hard, and you'll kiss his head, or snuggle into his side, even verbally tease him a bit.

"Hey, Ben, ya know what we haven't done in a while? Napped together."

"Aww hun, what's the matter? You're lookin' a little red."

"Ya know, embarrassment looks pretty good on you~"

He like, loves it but despises it at the same time; it's his guilty pleasure, in some aspects.

He's one of those that like to put up a careless exterior, but when somebody says the right thing, he'll pretty much just turn into a ghostly sludge of utter humiliation.

All of this was ten times worse before the two of you became a couple.

Someone could just mention crushes or attraction and he'd be dead.

This "someone" was mostly Jeff on days he wanted to embarrass him. He still does, it just isn't as effective.

You know, the first time you and Ben actually did something as simple as holding hands for the first time, he morphed into a pile of jelly at the rapid beating of his heart and the butterflies in his stomach.

But he just loves you so damn much, the poor boy can't even help it.

Just being around you can be enough to make him blush.

As your relationship as a couple grew, so did his confidence, and now he's chill most times you actually opt to touch him in any way, shape, or form.

Well, on the outside, at least.

But on the inside? His mind is going into alert mode and his insides just feel like they're swirling from euphoria.

I mean, who would have thought that Ben would ever get someone as awesome as you?

Certainly not the other Pastas, since none of them ever thought of Ben as 'boyfriend material'.

Guess he really showed them up.

Okay but seriously though, this dude may not be the smoothest boyfriend out there, but he tries. And he's so freaking sweet.

He regularly rubs it in Jeff's face that he managed to get a girlfriend before him, even though Jeff is like four years older.

Jeff only grunts and mutters, "who needs girls anyway?"

Ben is definitely the kind of person that will 100% overdo it on Valentine's day.

He'll treat it more like Hannuka to be completely honest.

I mean, there's gonna be a present for every day of the month of February, even when Valentine's day has passed already.

Heart chocolates for day #1, your favorite cookie for day #2, a giant teddy bear for day #3, a very strangely worded poem that's supposed to sound romantic but ends up just sounding awkward (he wrote it himself!) for day #4, and so on.

It's so sweet yet totally pointless because what are you supposed to do with all this unedible stuff? You only have so much room for storage!

But it's the thought that counts.

He won't really expect anything but attention out the yin-yang for days on end in return, but if you do get him a gift, he will be all yours for roughly 14 to 24 hours.

This boy gets excited over the simplest things you do for him, he is a major simp, I think it's safe to say.

But it's in the best possible way!

If you're ever feeling insecure about your looks or otherwise, he will pull you in front of a mirror, make you stare at your reflection, and ask you what you see. If you respond with something negative he'll just shake his head.

"Ya know what I see? A beautiful girl with all these adorable little quirks that make her unique. Her smile's adorable, her eyes are like looking into nature's finest jewels, and her laugh is just the best sound in the world. What she sees as imperfections are just the things that add depth and make her so great. And I wouldn't have it any other way..."

It's so corny but surprisingly grown-up for Ben's immature self.

Still though, it makes you tear up and you just wanna cuddle him for an hour or two.

Of course, he's very open to that. Then again, he's almost always up for cuddles, so.

Overall just really loveable, selfless, and affectionate. For big snugglers that love fun-sized bois, Ben is perfect for you.

Sis you're back! You already know who I will ask you to write about. Literally anything 🧝🏻‍♂️

Haha, you got it girl!

Ben Drowned with a gamer S\O

This dude plays video games, all of the time, even when he's supposed to be on camera duty. So it's really no wonder he's come across a few people online that have become long-term friends.

You are one of these people.

He was playing Among Us with a bunch of other randos when you joined the server, and since everyone had proximity chat, you were able to speak with each other briefly before the game started.

Conveniently enough, you were paired up together as the two imposters. You kicked ass, by the way.

Realizing the two of you made a pretty good team, Ben continued playing with you, and that particular server lasted three whole hours. The entire group was fun to talk to - minus that one troll that always seems to be around - and Ben appreciated your strategy and your endless sassiness.

He obviously sent you a friend request, and you obviously accepted it.

You both played a lot of games together, ranging anywhere from Halo to Call of Duty to Minecraft. He never told you much about himself outside of his general hobbies and interests, since ya know, it would have freaked you out had he told you that he was some internet-roaming ghost that lived in a house full of psychotic killers.

That is assuming you'd have believed him, in the first place.

Eventually, he asked if you'd be interested in being his virtual girlfriend, and you agreed, on the condition that he'd be your virtual boyfriend.

This dude is so much smoother when no one can see him, lemme just tell ya now. There's no way he would have asked a question like that if he was talking face-to-face.

Occasionally, he'll hop on a game with Jeff and Liu, and he, along with Liu, will have to spectate as you and Jeff constantly go at each other's throats with killing sprees, petty insults, halfhearted threats, you name it.

It's all in the name of "fun", of course.

There's no way he ever plans on telling you his circumstances. You're such a cool person and he doesn't want to ruin the bond you two share.

Neither of you knows what the other looks like. This is because you both make a consistent effort to keep it a secret, although you do take turns guessing random features the other one has.

For example, you'll say, "Brown hair?"

He'll counteract with, "Am I Eren Jeager?"

"You could be."

"Fair enough. Green eyes?"

"If hell froze over."

"Has it?"

"Maybe."

It really is a blast - even though your appearance is a total mystery to each other, it's nice to imagine.

To you, he's just a regular teen that loves games and is a bit of a dork. But you think he's sweet and couldn't be happier that you met him.

To him, you are awesome, and he tries not to be too big of a simp. At least he has the decency to treat you like a normal person rather than some mystical creature that needs to be flirted with all of the time.

That isn't to say he doesn't flirt, but he saved that for when you actually got to know each other and he knew you were somewhat comfortable with him.

In a life of darkness and loneliness, your voice provides him light and solace, and for that, he couldn't more thankful.