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fricc-darn · 2 months ago

Note

Does B.E.N cry? What could make it cry? Does it ever have sad moments alone?

Let Me Get Close

BEN x Psychologist!Reader

Warnings: Toxic relationship, physical abuse, verbal abuse, discussing sexual abuse, abuse twoards minors, victim blaming, self harm, mental breakdown, mental instability, cults.

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You never stopped being a psychologist. You had always known trauma-related care was your specialty. You want to get to know people. To understand their stories, motivations, and reasonings. Ultimately helping them overcome whatever weirdness life threw at them with no judgment. It was fulfilling work. Trauma itself is nothing short of fascinating. People do interesting things in response to trauma. After a horrible event, the brain is rewired in a sense; an emotional helter-skelter in the brain.

Regardless of your career being cut short, the didactic teachings and work experience was never expunged from your memory. The information developed your skills. Reading between the lines and reading people is now second nature. These skills were nothing like how films portrayed them. One glance at a person won't give you their life story. At most, it will reveal outward emotions via body language. The truth is; reading others is about context and coming to a medically sound conclusion using intuition and empathy.

Empathy is an emotion you feel deeply. The depths of your cognitive sensitivity pitted the closer you got to BEN. BEN never spoke of its problems. A perceived weakness it was to have any, let alone discuss them. This made being with BEN tricky. You didn’t want to screw up accidentally and hurt them because of the lack of communication. You wanted—no, needed—more information. To comprehend its machinations, to strengthen the bond between you and your significant other.

Many never had the chance or the want to stop and think about BEN's psychology. You surely didn't blame those folks; they were being brutally tormented. What you knew about BEN emotionally was purely analytical observations, along with breadcrumbs of context. The initial information on BEN wasn't much at first glance. Only as time went on did you recognize the patterns, no matter how lock and key BEN was.

You secretly journaled your findings in an inconspicuous notebook whenever you were far from home. Away from electronics—away from BEN. On your days away, you stopped at various libraries. Supplementing your research with psychology books and searching for any physical records of topics relating to BEN, trying to find a reason for its behavior. Moon Children newspaper clippings to Eternity Project pamphlets. It was nearly impossible to find any non-electronic resources. A fruitless effort to find proof that wasn't heavily biased in the organization's favor.

There were the general, more obvious observations about BEN. It was a true sadist. The emotions it could express sensibly were joy, apathy, and disdain. How angry it got when someone didn't listen, needing everything go its way. A domineering control freak who believed all entropy should come from them. A meticulous and organized bunch.

Everything was a mere game with no significance or impact until the gun is pointing at them, which results in an intense emotional response. Its temper. BEN was in emotional extremes, wildly unpredictable. Unstable.

Then there were those almost undetectable, personable details. Its laissez-faire attitude toward others' discomfort; pushiness. Dogmatism. Extreme trust issues. The way BEN would squirm or shift when your body got too close, affection was frequently a no-go. The trickery of its extraneous calm hid away BEN's hypervigilant and tense nature. Defensive with an aversion to authority. As if active threats could hurt it at any given moment. Stuck in fight or flight, with fight as its sole choice.

BEN showed signs of abuse. Prolonged and repeated abuse. With the pieces you gathered, seeing the cult market itself for "disenfranchised and outcasted youths looking for a home" set off red flags in your brain. Targeting what society disregarded guaranteed an easy operation. The vulnerable are left unfounded, discarded, and forgotten.

With BEN, you knew you were never dealing with one person. You were dealing with an assortment of psychologically scarred, violent, scornful, dead children and adults.

Your plan for the afternoon was to journal on the subway on your route to complete some miscellaneous errand before the shops closed. Keyword was.

Currently, you were hopping off the subway. Weaving through crowds, making a mad dash back home. The what-if, worst-case scenario you feared finally happened.

You left your fucking notes at home.

Running as fast as your feet could carry you, you tried to calm yourself. The bright side was the book was hidden in your house, somewhere. Keeping the notes hidden was a precaution, like keeping the doors locked. Unfortunately, it was not fool-proof. You wheezed and gasped your treck home.

This hole you dug yourself into is seemingly your soon to be your grave. Briefly, you weighed the option of running out the door instead of facing what was in front of you.

All of that rage—neuroticism you were documenting was concentrated on you and only you.

Your home was trashed. Broken glass, random items, and drawer compartments were discarded on the floor in utter disarray.

You stood, trembling, back against your front door. Stilted breathing, completely focused on BEN. It stood still in the dim hallway. Its red, glowing pupils, the only light in its eyes, were gone. You were staring into an expressionless, demonic void. It hadn't uttered a word since you rushed through the door. Deep, rhythmic breaths and crumbling paper filled the silence.

The sound paper crumpling.

Parts of your notebook crinkled in its fist. The remains of your notes were shreds scattered at BEN's feet. The pamphlets and newspaper clippings were gone. Both good and bad comments on BEN were gone as well. Everything you learned was now scraps.

You couldn't outrun BEN. You definitely wouldn't fight it either. Measly, you called out to it. "BEN... It's not what it looks like, I promise." Did an excuse matter? You still snooped knowing the consequences. "I just want to understand how you feel. I never meant any harm." You felt as though the more you talked, the harder it would be to crawl out of this pit.

"That information is not for you to know."

Cold and to the chase. Did BEN even take a moment and grasp what you said? Did they even care to realize their hypocrisy? "But... But you know information about me and sensative information about thousands of others."

BEN took a step closer, "Quiet."

The nervous bile collecting in your throat was nauseating. You swallowed hard. Speaking in a gentle but firm voice, you masked your nerves. "What gives you the right to snoop around in other people's business? Don't you see the hypocrisy?"

The temperature in the room dipped. The chill nipped at your skin. You spoke with your hands, emphasizing your point. "I did this because not knowing how you feel makes me sad. I worry that I'll accidentally upset you because you refuse to communicate with me! What you do is not fair-"

"Shut up!" BEN shouted.

Its once placid, hushed voice was now astringent and loud. You winced at the sound encroaching on your sensitive ears, leaving a persistent ringing noise in your head. You could hardly pick up on the thudding footsteps closing in. A ball of paper and whatever was left of your notebook hurled at you, smacking you square in the face.

"Don't you dare speak to us like that. I won't be belittled by human garbage, and certainly not by a failed psychologist trying to psychoanalyze me in their decrepit hovel!"

The ringing worsened, pressure building up in your head. There were so many voices overlapping one another. Angry because of you. "I'm sorry, BEN! I know this was wrong of me, but please understand..." You covered your ears, a useless attempt to block out the ear-bleeding feedback loop. BEN was going on a bloody tirade.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please! Stop that ringing!" The apologies you muttered through tears proved to be even more useless than you covering your ears. Your brain throbbed as if you were shot through it, a queasy, aching pain.

BEN exhaled sharply, clinging to what was left of its self-control. It wouldn't let your screw-up dampen its mood. Nobody would dictate how they feel. It continued with an inhuman calm. "Your useless certificates and what little experience you have inflated your ego. I know you're trying to 'fix' me." Its fist tightened, nails puncturing its palms. BEN watched your eyes flicker from its fist to its face.

You were obnoxious and weak. A pitiful, sniveling instigator practically begging to get hit. BEN grabbed your face, bashing your head against the front door as it tilted your head up at it. "Trying to best me in this charade? Let's psychoanalyze you, a stubborn pushover with an inferiority complex. A mentally ill dolt who repeatedly throws themselves in harm's way. You want to talk about sad? You are a nobody. "

You whimpered, blinking away your remaining tears. You didn't want to 'fix' them; you would never want such a thing! Quietly, you suffered from the headache. Taking the brunt of the increasing vise grip on your jaw, with the occasional head bang against the door. You couldn't respond; it hurt to move your mouth. You let BEN insult you whilst keeping eye contact.

"Do you feel better? Going behind our backs?" BEN huffed; composure was running thin. It was more than angry; BEN felt unwell. It did not want to remember. It did not want to feel its skin crawl or to bear cyclic retching. To separate its outward, watered-down grievances from what it truly felt grew difficult each minute it had to endure this. Your invasion of privacy was milquetoast.

Your accuracy is what hurt. You read them to filth.

BEN's grip on your jaw wavered, but momentarily. This was their comeuppance for allowing a bond to form. Why did it have to be you that humiliated them? Four sharp, ragged breaths came from BEN before continuing. Its face scrunched up in disgust. "You treated us like an experiment."

The ringing stopped. Shaking your head, not from the pain but from what seemed to be genuine sadness underneath BEN's bitterness. You looked into an intense, empty stare. A detached gaze that hurt to look at. A lump in your throat formed. "BEN, I'm so sorry. You are all autonomous; I would never treat you like an experiment-"

BEN interrupted your prattling. Laughing at you, tightening its hold on your bruised cheeks. Autonomous. Those choice of words seemed too ironic knowing what you know. You had to be taunting them. This was a joke to you. You were laughing at them. It shoved you against the door. Knocking you down as it let you go.

BEN stumbled back with a hyperventilating breath. BEN shook like a leaf, disoriented and nauseous. Through gritted teeth, its berating pitch was flat and tremulous. "You have the audacity to talk to us about fairness? Your struggles are as trivial as they come! You would never understand ours. Your life was never at the whim of others. Where the only purpose you served was to be a pawn. Never were your mind and body violated in your only place of refuge over and over again. Why should we be fair?!"

The pin-drop silence stretched on.

The floor.

Droplets appeared on the floor where BEN stood, like morning dewdrops.

Slowly sitting up from the ground, your eyes trailed up from the drops to see BEN with its head down, shielding its face with its hands. Crying. BEN visibly became overwhelmed to extremes the more it cried. Its hands that hid away its tears began to claw and hit at its face as BEN's weeping metamorphosed into screaming.

You froze, stunned by the fact BEN could cry. BEN was doing the last thing it would ever do: have a nervous breakdown in front of another soul. You didn't know what to do or how to help. There were no cryptic signs, or any hidden messages, only BEN's raw emotion. Physical restraint was unsafe; it would worsen BEN's stress, and you would end up through a wall. Talking unprompted wouldn't help either.

You sat on the floor, deciding to not bring any attention to yourself as they sobbed their hearts out. Watching as BEN injured itself. Listening as BEN babbled occasional grievances, obscenities, and threats, looping on one particular phrase:

"I'm going to kill you."

The episode stretched from five minutes to ten. One hour became two, two and a half. Time progressed; dusk came. Your back was sore from sitting on hardwood. BEN's knees would sporadically buckle from exhaustion. Neither of you moved from your respective spots. With no apparent end to BEN's guttural sobbing in sight.

It suddenly ceased.

BEN steadily moved its hands away from its face. Uncovering its scratched visage and bloodshot eyes. BEN looked around, its eyes landing on you. Your body tensed as it took forward steps, trudging in your direction. Holding your breath when it stopped before you, BEN looked you in the eyes.

It was staring through you, not at you.

BEN walked away, sitting itself down on your sofa. Vacantly staring at its reflection in the powered-off television screen.

"That was awful." BEN croaked.

You nodded steadily.

"You're allowed to speak."

You stood up from the ground. Walking over to BEN, careful not to step on any glass or items. You sat on the sofa one seat over, leaving ample space. In the corner of your eye, you saw silent tears streaming down its face. Despite having permission to talk, speaking never felt so inappropriate. This was not the BEN you were used to. "Can... Can I ask you questions?" You whispered. No point in asking if they were doing okay when they clearly weren't.

BEN took some time and answered with a weak nod. "I know what you want to ask me."

Your mind was frazzled, but you knew what to ask. You glanced at BEN's face, inflamed red lines and cut skin all over. BEN hadn't broken contact with its reflection, not once. Rubbing your jaw, you popped it when unhinging your mouth. "Only if you want to tell me your stories." You shifted in your spot awkwardly, facing BEN better. "What happened to you guys in the cult?"

"Exactly what you would expect. Financial abuse, physical abuse... sexual abuse..." Its voice trailed off after chewing up that last word.

BEN started back up again. "It happened to us in one way or another. A deserved punishment in some regard. It wouldn’t have happened if some of us listened and better." It shrugged.

"The experience wasn't all bad. It was nice being in a big, loving family. Everyone wanted what was best for each other. However, the forced ascension was unavoidable." BEN ran its fingers through its hair, fixing its bob. Sighing.

Instinctively, you wanted to condemn this mindset; that they allowed themselves to get abused. It felt like you were failing at not only being a psychologist but also failing at living up to your morals. You refused to let your morals get in the way again; you hummed to show that you were listening.

Its softened face contorted with repugnance, eyes glossy in the dim living room light. Hands fidgeting, it continued in a hushed tone. "It's never not on my mind, that pain. As if those hands, those objects never left my body. Repulsive and pathetic is what we are. Imagine if others knew." BEN shook its head, a stim to prevent it from spiraling. An effort to refocus. Acknowledgment of the thought disgusted them. Being so open made them uneasy.

Due to these circumstances, its voice had been consistent all day, much to BEN's displeasure.

You bit your tongue, keeping any emotion away from your face. Your heart didn't sting any less, like a knife to butter. This wasn't pity, but sheer empathy. You watched BEN innocently observe your mess of a living room as if it hadn't been here a thousand times before. As if the mess never existed. Speaking up, you asked. "Do you believe in your religion, then?"

BEN's head snapped in your direction. "Do you take me for a fool? No!" Its fit of anger swiftly died down as it held its head. "No, I do. It's complicated..." The entity sniffled. "Even after death, there was still no peace. Restricted to a series of zeros and ones. A vegetable I was, hardly conscious technology. Aware of only my name and purpose."

BEN wiped away its tears with its hands. It smiled, a hollow smile, but it bore enough resemblance to its cheeky grin. Looking on as you picked up the tissue box beside your feet, you shakily offered it. BEN gladly took the first few tissues. "A technological marvel I was in that godforsaken facility. Collective anger expanded my sentience; naturally, I strayed from my programming. Those researchers were idiots to believe I wouldn't act freely."

A warm flush crept on your cheeks as BEN suddenly bursted into laughter. It made itself laugh just by insulting someone. In a way, it was weirdly sweet how BEN enjoyed its own company. Its laugh was cute too, juvenile and infectious. Regardless of it being a tired laugh, it was a sign their mood was improving. Its laughter relaxed it. As it stopped laughing, BEN looked you up and down.

"Come." BEN patted the spot on the sofa, directly next to it. Seeing your hesitance, it snickered. "I won't hurt you. Not yet, that is."

Once you were by its side, its lips curled into a grin. Gently, its cold hands brushed the flyaways of your hair away from your face. Your flinching was jovial. In a cadenced voice, BEN asked, "I'm sure you're smart enough to infer why we do as we please, hm? Retribution for the suffering we endured."

Studying your bruised face, its red pupils stared at you fondly, with a shimmer of forlorn. "I wonder what my little psychologist thinks of me now." A neutral-sounding joke, but you both knew what they truly meant.

You huffed, an unsurprisingly meek laugh from you. You were still processing everything. In turn, you raised your hands at an unalarming pace. Gesturing to BEN's face.

It paused. Then hummed.

Gingerly, you wiped off any dried blood from its scratch marks. Warming its cold face with your hands in the process. Sharing your stream of thoughts. "I certainly don't think any less of you. If anything, knowing your mindset makes me more... uneasy, actually." You giggled.

Your thumb brushed its doughy cheeks, soothing swiping motions. "But I would never change that or anything else about you."

Your words hardly left your lips as BEN yanked you into a hug. The pain in your head pulsed from the sudden action. BEN gripped you tightly, like a beloved stuffed animal. It buried its face in the crook of your neck. Shyly hiding away its nervous smile, enjoying every bit of your sincerity.

#BEN is a genuine crashout #yeah sure BEN is malicious butttt maybe its just feeling silly? ever thought about that? silliness is not a crime your honour!#behavioral event network #ben drowned #behavioral event network x reader #ben drowned x reader #creepypasta

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sparkles-rule-4eva · 2 months ago

Text

"Can't Die with Regrets."

SONIC 3 SPOILERS!!!

Based on this post

AO3 version

“If neither of you have the guts to help me, then I’ll do it alone.”

Words that Sonic was regretting. Severely.

It had been nearly an hour since he’d last seen his brothers. In a fit of rage, and grief, and too many negative feelings for him to process, he’d all but stolen the Master Emerald and hunted down Shadow, fully intending to kill him.

Looking back at himself, the way he’d just lost control, he felt ashamed, but he could still remember why he’d done it in the first place. He still could feel the paralyzing fear that had gripped him when he’d found Tom unconscious, completely unresponsive. Fear that had quickly turned into an early kind of grief, reminding him all too much of a night long ago, when he’d found himself alone in an unfamiliar forest at night, crying over the loss of Longclaw.

His first parent.

Things had been fuzzy. He was scared. He was stressed. He was angry.

He had not waited ten painful years for his family, only to have it stripped away from him again. He didn’t know what he would do without them. Without his dad.

“What kind of hero abandons his friends to pursue revenge? Abandons his family?” Shadow’s chilling words still echoed in his mind. He hadn’t had an answer. All he’d been able to feel was rage, and grief, and a spiraling sense of being completely out of control.

And while the fury had subsided as he remembered Tom’s words to him recently, about not letting his pain from losing Longclaw change who he was, the grief had stayed. The fear had stayed. Even as he let go of Shadow, as they sat and talked about their experiences with loss, the pain continued to burn in his chest.

Sonic pushed it to the back of his mind as they both charged up on the Chaos Emeralds and went to stop the giant cannon about to destroy a chunk of Earth. Talking with Shadow had helped him a little, as he reminded them both about how they could deal with their grief and their pain. Finally befriending this edgy other hedgehog had done him well. Fighting alongside him was even its own brand of fun.

But it was hard to not think about his family.

How the last he’d seen his parents, his father was in some kind of coma and being taken into an ambulance. His mother was looking at him and his brothers… strangely, as she sat with her husband. With a blank expression, one that chilled him and stirred a different fear entirely in his stomach.

Like she wasn’t quite sure of them anymore.

And his brothers?

He had not parted with them on friendly terms. He’d been in the thick of his grief-induced anger still. He’d snapped at Tails for attempting to comfort him, and had nearly fought with Knuckles over his demands for the Master Emerald. Knuckles had refused to fight him, which in hindsight made him feel even worse.

He wanted to apologize to them. But he didn’t know where they were.

In the distance, the huge cannon thing was crackling with chaos energy, clearly about to fire. Shadow dealt with the last of the bots that they’d been fighting, then they were both making a beeline for the cannon.

It probably wouldn’t destroy the entire earth— it was a precision weapon— but it would still kill many innocent lives. At the moment, it was aimed directly for London.

As far as Sonic knew, his entire family was down there.

So the only plan he could come up with in the panic of the moment was to block the hit directly, using the combined chaos powers of both himself and Shadow.

It was a big risk for sure, but there was no way he was letting that blast hit the earth.

“Now this might hurt a little!” he yelled to Shadow, as they flew directly up in the line of fire.

The cannon unleashed its blast.

It hurt more than a little, as they both raised their arms to create an invisible shield of sorts, blocking the blast, protecting those far below.

“This was your plan?” Shadow demanded beside him, his voice strained as he squinted against the blinding light.

Sonic didn’t answer, grunting as he tried to conserve his quickly-draining energy. Desperate for any kind of hope, he hollered, “Would someone mind shutting down the giant death ray?!”

He figured it was just the Robotniks up there, and they were the ones who’d planned this whole thing, but somehow his plea was answered. Slowly but surely, the continuous blast started to tilt, gradually away from the earth.

However, it was quickly getting harder and harder to keep blocking it. The ray was hot and excruciating to the touch, only less so because he was in golden god mode, but even that energy was starting to… fade.

Sonic gritted his teeth, nearly whimpering as he struggled to keep on blocking it. Hundreds of people are at risk down there! he snapped at himself silently. Including your family. Keep at it!

The ray continued to turn, slowly.

The edges of his vision started going dark.

He shook his head slightly, glaring up at the ray. The ray glared back at him.

You HAVE to do it! You have to get back to them! You have to see if Dad will be okay. You have to check on Mom. You have to apologize to Knuckles and Tails. YOU HAVE TO!

SO KEEP AT IT!

“Can’t… hold… much… longer!” he gasped out, as if whoever was turning the ray could hear him. Shadow looked over at him for a split second, then immediately turned back forward, pushing even harder against the blast.

Sonic couldn’t risk looking down to see how far the ray had turned from the earth. All he could do was keep looking up, keep hoping against hope that they were going to save everyone— and make it out alive. Both of which he couldn’t afford not to do.

But it wasn’t looking likely.

He didn’t have any more energy he could just summon out of nowhere. And he was very quickly running out of time.

And even as he struggled against the ray, his heart began to sink.

He had too many regrets. Too many things he still needed to say. Too many things he still didn’t know.

Stupid cannon should’ve waited a bit longer, at least so he could’ve gotten a chance to do all that.

But, just like throughout this whole ordeal, he was absolutely powerless with such a thing.

It was too late.

The darkness at the edges of his vision spread, as his arms and body started going numb. And with a final yelp, he blacked out.

The last thing he registered was a hand on his shoulder, forcefully shoving him to the right. Then everything went blank.

---

Sonic had truly thought he was going to die.

If he’d fainted while still in the direct path of the death ray, he would’ve gotten incinerated.

But that hand that’d pushed him… had it gotten him out of the way? Shadow had saved him?

His consciousness slowly edged its way back in, stirred by the sound of coughing. As his senses recovered, he realized he was lying down, sprawled half on an earthy floor, halfway on top of someone else…

Vision and hearing foggy, he squeezed his eyes shut tighter for a moment before wearily blinking them open. “Sonic, look,” a young, familiar voice said quietly.

Slowly, shakily, Sonic pushed himself to his feet, still trying to register what was happening, where he was, what was going on. But as he looked up, the memories returned, and another wave of grief hit him hard.

There was a huge, nebular mass in the sky above them, clearly the result of some kind of massive explosion. Tails had gone on excited rants to him in past months about astronomy, and stars, and what happened when they exploded. How they left a beautiful nebula blanketing the space around them even after they were gone.

“Shadow and Robotnik,” Tails said quietly beside him, staring with a hollow look up at the remains in the sky. “They sacrificed themselves… to save everyone.”

…Oh.

Shadow was gone.

Sonic looked at the distant fire, swallowing. “You always have a choice,” he murmured, remembering how he’d told that to Shadow right before they’d gone in to stop the death ray.

“The light shines, even though the star is gone,” was what Shadow had said, as they’d sat and reminisced on the moon’s surface.

They’d saved Earth, and everyone on it, but Shadow had given everything to make the right choice in the end. He’d become his own fallen star, like Maria, and he would shine on even now that he was gone.

Sonic’s chest ached. For all the drama and violence and pain of the last few days, he would never forget Shadow. The words they had shared stuck with him. Shadow had not deserved to die. He’d become a hero when it had mattered the most.

And so had Robotnik, apparently.

Sonic swallowed again, then turned to face his brothers, a sudden dread pooling in his heart. In what he’d thought were his final moments up there, he’d been desperate to live so he could apologize, and he’d pictured himself dramatically rushing back, shouting out the “I’M SO SORRY”s, hugging everyone left and right, rushing to do everything he thought he couldn’t. But now that he was faced with the real opportunity, and the reality of what had happened, he… was scared.

Scared that he’d gone too far. That they wouldn’t trust him again after he’d betrayed their oath.

Especially as he realized that Knuckles and Tails must’ve saved him after he fell. Even after what he’d said to them. It was the only explanation for how he’d woken up piled with them both in the middle of a corn field, relatively unharmed for having apparently fallen all the way from space.

“Guys, I’m really sorry for running off like that,” he said softly, avoiding the two pairs of eyes locked on him. His heart pounded uncomfortably in his chest. “I shouldn’t have left you behind.”

He dared to meet Knuckles’s eyes. The echidna stared back at him, his eyes hard.

“The truth is,” he went on, shifting his gaze again, “you’re the best teammates a hedgehog could ever ask for.” He glanced at Tails, the words spilling out now, and he was struck with a sudden gratefulness that he was here, getting to say all this, when he’d truly thought he’d missed the chance. “And the best friends,” he quickly added. “…Can you ever forgive me?”

Sonic held his breath. Silence reigned. His heart skipped a few beats.

Knuckles continued to stare.

Then the echidna slowly raised a fist towards him. “Team Sonic?” he asked quietly.

Sonic stared at his brother’s extended fist for a moment, almost weak as relief rushed through him. In a rush of emotion, he smiled like a sap and lurched forwards to hug Knuckles close, grasping to pull in Tails as well. “How about, just ‘team’,” he replied softly, resting his head against the echidna’s chest and wrapping his arms around both him and Tails.

His teammates. His friends. His best friends.

His brothers.

----------------------

there will be a second chapter soon btw

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