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simpleserendipity · 3 years

Text

Honey | Min Yoongi

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (established relationship)

Word count: 2,050 words

The view of tattoos has changed a lot over time but they were still a taboo subject in a lot of circles. You knew that your family would always look down on you if you got a tattoo but something about the art kept drawing you in. So you got one. You’ve always been careful to hide your tattoo from everyone to avoid the trouble of getting dress coded at your university or at your job, even going so far that not even your own boyfriend knows of your tattoo, which frankly was a miracle that after almost a year you had hidden this from him.

You walked together hand in hand, down the street to get to Yoongi's dorm for one of the last times for a while before you head off for a semester abroad. You only have a few weeks left together before you’re jetting off to America for 3 months. The two of you walked silently, just enjoying each other's presence peacefully.

"______?" Yoongi blurted out.

"Yes?" You looked to my boyfriend, who had stopped walking beside you, making you stop walking.

"I got you something." He reaches into his pocket to retrieve something.

"A gift?" You beamed, you loved gifts not because of the material items you would receive but because of how excited he would be to give you these things and how he would tell you about why it made him think of you. You smiled, squeezing his hand tighter, "What's this all about?'

Yoongi pulled something small from his pocket, "I got it because you’re going to America and I won't be with you as often. You know I wish I could’ve come with you." You wanted to laugh at the part where he says wants to come with you because it didn’t matter how far away you were, you knew that he would never admit it but he’s the type of person to fly to you when he misses you that badly.

"Yoongi," You stepped a little closer so your chests were almost touching, "I'm so proud of you and everything you're doing with your music. Of course I'll miss you when I’m gone and I know you would’ve wanted to be with me, but I could not be happier for you. I will always be your number one fan." You smiled wider, tiptoeing up to kiss his cheek softly.

"_______," He holds out his hand revealing a little silver necklace, "I got you this."

You stared down at the little silver heart shaped pendant with his initials inscribed in the pendant, "It's so pretty Yoongi!" You were practically jumping up and down with excitement.

He pauses, opening the pendant revealing it is a locket, "There's more." He showed you the picture of you and Yoongi, wrapped in each other's arms in his studio, celebrating the release of his first solo mixtape. You both look incredibly happy and it was such a good day. He was just happy he got the mixtape done and was happy with how it turned out. You were so proud of him for how hard he worked, knowing his late night studio times have finally paid off. It's Yoongi’s favorite picture, he plastered it everywhere, the studio, his room, his wallet, phone screen and now around your neck.

"Yoongi!" You practically shouted, wrapping your arms around his neck. He was never really one to initiate this kind of affection and was always quite embarrassed when you did but would never turn you down. "I love it so much!" You squealed in excitement when you pulled away, "Can you put it on me?"

"Sure." He nodded. You twisted your hair holding it out of the way. Yoongi used his most careful movements to bring the necklace around your neck. You felt him push the collar of your uniform down slightly, to get the necklace on. Then he froze as soon as his fingers brushed the nape of your neck.

"Is something wrong baby? Are you alright?" You asked, a little worried, wondering what could have startled him.

"Do you have a tattoo?" He asked then clipped the necklace around your neck, fingers still trailing the nape of your neck.

You turned around nervously, "I... um... yeah..." You clasped my hands together and shifted my weight. You had never really talked about tattoos with him, so you had no idea of how he was going to react. You bit the inside of your cheek, nervously waiting for his reaction.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Yoongi's normal stoic face has shifted slightly, not that you could tell what he was going to react like.

"Well I haven't told anybody," You shrugged, attempting to play it off as cool, "It's not exactly something I would broadcast, so I keep it hidden because you know how people will react."

"Can I see it?" Yoongi asks bluntly, the idea that he wanted to see it was comforting to you.

"Well let's get to your dorm first." You smiled.

“Alright.” He nodded, taking your hand again while walking beside you. You were only a few minutes away from the dorms which didn’t help, it made you more anxious the closer you got. You got to his building and he held the door for you as we entered. He followed you up the stairs, as much of a gentleman he is, you knew he was probably looking up your skirt like the cheeky idiot he is. You stopped outside the door of his dorm, rocking back and forth on your heels, waiting for him to let you in. The place was empty so the other boys must be out somewhere. He opens the door and lets you in. You walked past the living room, down the hall to his shared room with Jin. You open the door and step in, Yoongi behind you.

You and Yoongi set down your bags, "Sit down, so I can show you." You said softly, turning your back to him. Without saying a word Yoongi slides off his jacket and takes a seat. You feel my heart pounding out of your chest, this is the first time that Yoongi will see you naked or even semi naked. You start to slip off your jacket, tossing it onto the floor, you start to unbutton your shirt with your fingers shaking. You finish and move letting the sides fall over your shoulders until it falls off completely. You’re left in nothing but a bra, which with shaking hands you slowly unclipped. You let that fall to the floor too.

"Come closer," Yoongi asks, you stepped back within reach of him. You were shaking with the nerves "Relax honey." He reaches a hand out to touch my back, his calloused fingertips sent ripples up my back.

“I’m quite nervous to show you.” You sighed.

“Why baby? It’s pretty.” His fingers graze over the flowers on your back, "It's quite big."

You bite your lip nervously, hoping that he wouldn’t be upset by the tattoo, "What do you not like it?" You questioned.

"That's not it," His other hand comes up and grazes my back as well, "I just never thought that you would get something like this." The cool metal of his rings made you shiver when it touched your back.

"Well why is that?" You asked teasingly, trying to lighten the situation because it was going better than you could have anticipated.

"I just never pictured your whole back would be covered with ink." He continued to trace the patterns.

"So why were you picturing my back? Was there something lewd you were thinking about?" You teased him, peaking over my shoulder at him.

“Honey,” Yoongi starts, his tone getting stricter, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Well why were you picturing my back then?” You questioned again with a giggle.

Yoongi just looked up and met your eyes before changing the subject, "When did you get this?"

You pause for a moment, "The end of my first year of university." You smiled.

"You've had it that long?" He seems surprised, “Where did you get this?”

"Yeah, I got it one day when my cousin got a tattoo gun. She drew and tattooed the whole thing." You felt his fingers stop grazing your back.

"Do your parents know?" He asks, hand going flat against the tattoo.

“Parents?” You scoff, "You're the only one besides my cousin that knows I have this," You felt goosebumps raise on your skin as he pulls his hands away, "I've been very careful to hide it from a lot of people."

"I like it." He says softly, hands resting on your hips, pulling you back, "I like it a lot.”

“You like it?” You said in surprise.

“I normally don’t like tattoos but this is so pretty,” His lips press along the lines of the tattoo, “It’s so elegant, it’s like something I’d see on a canvas in a museum.” You felt your face heat up with his compliments, “So fitting for you honey, my little masterpiece.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, sitting back on his lap. You sat together in silence for a moment, "I've thought about adding more but I don't know." You hum.

"You want more?" Yoongi tucks his chin into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Well yes,." You relaxed into his arms, still covering my breasts embarrassed, but the longer you sat there on his lap, the more comfortable you got.

“Where else are you thinking? Your back is a little full honey.” Yoongi jokes, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

"I think I want some on my hips."

His hands went down from your waist to rest on your hips, "Here?" His fingers were inching the waistband of your skirt down. You continued to let him undress you as you both sat on his bed, finally growing more and more comfortable with him. He pulled the skirt down slowly, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. His hands stopped on your hips, thumbs tracing small circles.

"I was thinking of adding some more flowers and butterflies." You leaned your head back, looking up to the ceiling. Yoongi just nodded slightly, "I don't know if I want to do anymore or even if I should." You rambled on and as you talked you relaxed further into his arms, "Sorry I'm rambling."

"That's fine honey," His fingers ran over your skin slowly and his lips connected to your shoulder again, "I like hearing you talking." He mutters against your shoulder.

You pulled your back from his chest, turning to straddle him, in order to look at him, "I love you." You looked into his eyes for a moment and his eyes softened. You let your fingers slowly start to unbutton his shirt. After a few minutes, you finish and he shrugs his shirt off.

He looked like he was registering the scene in front of him, "I love you too." His eyes were looking me up and down, “Is this really happening? Do you really want this?” He whispers.

You felt your cheeks heat up as he looked down at your naked body. You nodded, "Yoongi... I want to..." You trailed off before leaning in to kiss him. You met his lips in a very passionate kiss. Your hands wrapped around his neck and he tightened his grip on your waist, the cool metal of his rings making you shiver. Your hands came falling down his chest to meet his belt, you started to undo it before pulling away from the kiss, "Can I?" you asked, batting your eyelashes.

“Are you sure you want to do this honey?” Yoongi’s hands run up and down your sides, comfortingly.

“Yes baby,” You smiled, “I’m sure. Now can I?” You pull on the belt a little bit more.

"Yes of course honey." He nods. You continued with undoing his belt and he connected his lips with mine again. His hands were slowly roaming my body. I pushed him down onto his back, trailing my lips down to his neck and starting a trail down his chest, “You’re so sweet honey,” He laughs, his hand coming to cup your chin, “But let me take care of you tonight.”

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youthfulyang · 4 years

Text

So Antisocial ` yoonkook`

producer x tattoo artist au

non-idol au

pairing: Yoongi x Jeongguk

word count: 7K

"Oh my God."

Jeongguk stood in an awe. It was a miracle to see his hero in front of him, in the tattoo parlor he worked at.

Min Yoongi was much smaller in person was the first thought that came to mind. Though they stood a good few meters away from each other, it was clear that his eyes were at the same level as Jeongguk's lips.

Then, Jeongguk looked at the man's hair.

The last time Jeongguk saw Min Yoongi on TV the man had blond hair, but under the hat he was wearing, the younger saw the little bits of his hair poking out. Yoongi had dyed his hair red and boy was Jeongguk just dying to catch a glimpse of the whole thing.

Lastly, Jeongguk already knew Yoongi was a very attractive man, but he was certainly way more attractive in real life. One hundred times more attractive he thought.

"I-It's such an honor to meet y-you.." Jeongguk managed to stutter out the words he had been meaning to say the whole time.

Yoongi only bowed with a slight smile on his lips. He wasn't arrogant or anything, but he was used to getting that kind of treatment from others. Jeongguk wasn't anyone special to him. He was just another fan and he decided to treat him the same way he treats all his other fans.

Jeongguk didn't think too much about it, he was just happy to be in the same room as his idol. Eventually he was disappointed to find out he wasn't going to be doing a tattoo for Yoongi, but instead for the friend that came with him.

Luckily the tattoo would take probably 4 hours to get done. Jeongguk sighed happily, 4 hours with his idol.

"Why did you drag me here.."

Yoongi was pissed to say the least. He would rather spend his free time at home or at his studio to work on new releases, but Taehyung wouldn't let him.

"I'm not doing this on my own!" Taehyung was extremely terrified of needles or anything sharp in general, especially if they were near him. Which was why Yoongi was surprised when he decided to get a tattoo.

At first Yoongi tried to persuade him not to get the tattoo, worried that it might somehow damage his very successful modeling career, but Taehyung didn't care and said, "Hyung, the girls will love it! I'll look more manly and shit, I don't know!" Yoongi gave up and decided to support his best friend anyway.

The first few minutes of getting the tattoo done was quite difficult for the three men. Taehyung was struggling to stay still, Jeongguk had trouble calming down his customer, while Yoongi just sat in the room, annoyed with his friend's cries.

"How do you do it, man.." Taehyung looked up at the tattoo artist. Jeongguk had tattoos inked all over his skin. The sleeveless shirt he wore gave a clear view of the tattoos that were trailing from his arms up to his neck. All the details of every single tattoo complimented him well and Yoongi in a way was infatuated with what he saw.

"How can you.. Doesn't all of that hurt..?" Taehyung asked again, his tears were threatening to spill out.

"Ah, well I've gotten used to it after all these years." Jeongguk smiled at his customer and assured him that everything was going to be okay.

Slowly, Yoongi knew what kind of person Jeongguk was. He was sweet and gentle despite his outer appearance. The intimidating amount of tattoos, crazy piercings, the slick, black hair masked his innocent heart.

"Did he just faint?"

"Fuck, he did.."

Jeongguk wasn't completely in shock. Taehyung wasn't the first person to have fainted during his session, but it was still rare to have a customer faint, Jeongguk was still surprised. He was mostly confused about how nonchalant Yoongi's reaction was.

"You seem pretty calm about this, haha.."

"I kind of expected him to black out, not gonna lie."

At that moment Jeongguk almost exploded. The whole situation still seemed unreal for him and though for the most part he was more focused on getting Taehyung to regain consciousness, he couldn't help but sneak some glances at Yoongi.

His heart began to beat faster upon seeing Yoongi take off his hat and ruffle his red hair back into place. The color suited him well and Jeongguk felt his own face turning red as well, but he had to focus because in the end he still had a job to do and he didn't want to get fired for messing up.

After about a minute in, Taehyung was still passed out and all Jeongguk could hope for was that the ice pack on his forehead he provided would help.

"Does this happen often?" From the corner of the room, Yoongi decided to speak up.

"Ah, uh, sometimes.."

"How long have you been doing this?"

Though he didn't want it to show, and it most likely did, Jeongguk was extremely nervous. It should've been Jeongguk asking the questions, but it was the other way around. He was so shy that Yoongi was somewhat showing interest in him.

"About 3 years I think." He managed to smile through his anxiousness. Talking about his job as a tattoo artist made him proud, he loved his job too much.

Yoongi nodded and started asking more questions about his job and about tattoos in general to which Jeongguk answered all happily. In a way Jeongguk was kind of happy Taehyung fainted because it meant he could talk to his idol, but he still made sure Taehyung was okay nonetheless.

"I got a tattoo of one of your lyrics, by the way.." The younger admitted, looking down at the ground bashfully.

"Really?" Yoongi was surprised. "Where? Can I see?"

Slowly they both saw that Taehyung was about to wake up, and Jeongguk placed his index finger over his lips.

"It's a secret."

Yoongi broke his promises again. And though he wasn't affected the slightest bit he wanted to know what it was Jeongguk wasn't telling him.

So after 6 hours of Taehyung getting his tattoo, right before they left Yoongi asked if he wanted to see him sometime, and that's what led to the moment that would change Jeongguk's life.

It was like a dream that came to life to be picked by Yoongi after his shift ended. Though Jeongguk didn't know exactly what to expect, he thought Yoongi was going to show him around his studio or show him some clips of future releases.

Never in Jeongguk's life did he think he'd be pushed against the wall while Yoongi attacked his lips with harsh kisses, not giving him any space to think or even say a word. He would've asked Yoongi to calm down. Being taller, more muscular than the man before him, he knew he had the physical strength to pull him away for a moment, but he decided against it.

Yoongi was so demanding with every move he made and it just made Jeongguk fall so weak to his touch, he wanted more. There was no time for Yoongi to hesitate, he just did whatever he knew he had to in order to get what it was that he wanted, so he kissed him so passionately and every now and then he'd part their lips to catch his breath, but they continued the make out session for a while.

After some time, Yoongi took his arm and dragged Jeongguk impatiently to his bed, making sure that their lips never let go of each other the whole way there.

Things were happening so fast and Jeongguk didn't understand what was going on. Though he wasn't a stranger to sleeping with people he didn't know too well, he had never been with a man before. He wasn't used to the feeling of being dominated by another person but Yoongi just made everything feel so right.

Once they finally made it to the bedroom, Yoongi yanked his shirt over his head along with Jeongguk's. He pushed his guest onto his bed and he got a clear view of all the tattoos that coated almost his entire torso leading up to the side of his neck, ending right under the jawline.

And finally, Yoongi calmed down. His breath was steady and his eyes are taking in every detail of every single tattoo on the man. Jeongguk however was utterly stunned, he was struggling to breathe steadily and he had never felt so vulnerable in front of another person.

The blood rushed up to Jeongguk's cheeks, he was waiting for Yoongi to strike his next move, but so far all he did was stand over him so Jeongguk sat up straight and gathered all his confidence to finally say something.

"What's wrong?" He hesitated to throw his arms around Yoongi's neck, so instead he placed his hand gently on Yoongi's cheek.

His face hadn't changed the slightest bit. The expression he held the entire time was cold and almost distant which confused Jeongguk even more. That was until the older man delicately lied him back down on the mattress, pinning both his hands over his head and kissed him softly.

"Everything's perfect.."

Finally, Yoongi gave him the smile Jeongguk had been dying to see up close for the longest time. Though there was a major shift in his actions, Jeongguk didn't mind though, if anything he preferred him like that.

Jeongguk was just craving for the gentle care and that was exactly what he was getting. He loved the way Yoongi's hands were roaming around freely around every inch of his body, butterfly kisses planted on the crook of his neck, while Yoongi just made sure that there was nothing Jeongguk had to besides lie down perfectly and enjoy himself.

Whilst scanning the inked art on Jeongguk's rib cage, he found what it was he was looking for.

"If the target of your loathing is me, I'll go up on the guillotine."

As expected, Jeongguk woke up sore, but he didn't mind. The pleasure he experienced the night before overpowered the pain. But Jeongguk had questions with answers he was desperate for.

They were facing each other, faces only mere centimetres apart, the heat of their bodies brought warmth to one another and Jeongguk was so content being tangled up in Yoongi's embrace.

"Yoongi.." He whispered.

He hummed in response and brushed the younger's raven hair back. Even he had to admit Jeongguk was extremely attractive, it was crazy how much more beautiful he could get up close.

"Why did you take me here in the first place?"

The question made Yoongi upset. He was upset at himself for not following his own rules. He was upset with Jeongguk for being such a tempting bait. It was people that were so submissive and naive like Jeongguk that pulled Yoongi back into his old habits. But he wasn't going to tell him any of that, so for now he'll just gve in to his old ways. One last time.

"I like you."

Hearing those words, Jeongguk swore his heartbeat stopped for a moment.

"Y-you do? Why?"

Jeongguk seriously was losing his mind. And when Yoongi responded by showering him with compliments and kisses all over his face, he felt as though it was all too good to be true, still he truly wanted to believe it was real.

"But you don't even know me.." He pulled away from Yoongi's arms and was still searching for a clearer answer. "You do this with a lot of your fans, right?" His own words hurt him more than he thought it would.

He felt so stupid for thinking that he was different from all of his other fans, but Yoongi wasn't having it. It was pissing him off that Jeongguk was distancing himself. He just needed to get him back.

"You're different though.." His voice was low, the expression on his face was a little unreadable but it made Jeongguk feel bad for making his idol look so sad. Did I offend him? He thought to himself.

"I get it though." He looked at Jeongguk with pleading eyes. "But if you give this a chance," Yoongi pulled Jeongguk back into a sweet hug. "I can make you the happiest person in the world.."

With that, Jeongguk was in a complete trance. He gave in. Maybe a little too quickly.

"You're in a good mood," Jimin eyed his best friend weirdly. "why?"

Jeongguk simply smiled brightly at him, "I'm always in a good mood, right?"

That was mostly true. Jeongguk would rarely show up to work looking upset, he was always such a ray of sunshine, his killer smile would always attract new customers, but maybe that also had a lot to do with his looks.

Jeongguk was tall, a perfectly defined body in general, his cutely shaped lips and doe eyes that still managed to fit well with his image as very masculine, his choice in style didn't leave much to the imagination either. It was always the tight jeans with huge rips in the front and shirts that either had a low cut or no sleeves. His thighs were also out of this world, of course they were.

"Is this about the producer guy that came in a few days ago?"

Jeongguk sighed, disappointed that Jimin was so ignorant.

"He's not just some random producer guy, Jimin. For all you know he could be the person that wrote and produced some of the music you saved on your phone!"

Jimin just rolled his eyes and regretted ever opening his mouth. Still, he was glad that Jeongguk was looking very cheerful. Then he saw the purple marks on his neck and snorted. Jimin couldn't believe that he didn't even bother to cover up his hickeys.

"You're real bold, Ggukie."

Days passed by, and Yoongi's bond with Jeongguk was getting stronger and stronger and Jeongguk just couldn't get enough of Yoongi. He was so hungry for his attention and was willing to do anything to just spend the whole day doing nothing but just be with his idol.

Yoongi would encourage Jeongguk to skip work and lie about being sick to his boss just to be with him. At first Jeongguk declined the idea, but for some reason he was just so good with his words that Jeongguk just had to do what he said.

"I haven't had any inspiration lately anyway.. I thought you could help me.." He whined in such a sultry manner that turned Jeongguk on so much. It was rare to see Yoongi acting like that, how could he say no?

"Ah.. Alright, fine!" He gave in to Yoongi's magic once again, with no thought of regret crossing his mind.

"If the target of your loathing is me, I'll go up on the guillotine."

Months later, the two were on Yoongi's couch and out of nowhere Yoongi decided to bring up the topic of Jeongguk's tattoo once again.

"Why that lyric out of every other song?"

Jeongguk was lying his head on Yoongi's lap, then looked up at the man, trying his best to think of an answer.

"Hmm, well, I guess I feel like I relate to the words a lot."

Yoongi placed his notebook down next to him, he had been thinking of lyrics for his unreleased songs. But now he wanted to focus more on his baby.

"You relate to it? Why?"

Yoongi tilted his head to the side with a pout on his face, his hand made its way under Jeongguk's shirt, then carefully traced the outlines of his abs. Jeongguk's breath hitched a little at the contact but continued to answer the question.

"Yeah, I don't know. Maybe I just feel like I always try so hard to make the people around me happy but it gets tiring and it makes me sad sometimes.." He admitted, his tone got more serious than before.

Yoongi nodded understandingly and asked again.

"Do I make you tired?" The caressing of Yoongi's hand stopped and Yoongi patted Jeongguk's messy hair instead.

"No." He sighed blissfully.

"Do I make you sad?" His fingers fell to Jeongguk's lips, then down to his jaw

"No.. You don't." His voice got smaller as Yoongi brought his face closer to the younger's lips.

At that point their lips were only a few millimetres apart that their lips were practically touching already. The anticipation was killing the raven haired man, but he was in a way too afraid to make the first move, or maybe he was just trying to savor the moment, letting his mind realize that everything was real.

Then finally Yoongi said it.

"I love you."

"Yoongi.."

"What the fuck is it this time."

He was getting sick of Jeongguk's voice. Talking about this, asking about that, rambling about useless shit and Yoongi's patience was running thin. All he wanted was to sew Jeongguk's mouth shut at that point.

"You should really just lay off the drugs and-"

"Why? You don't love me anymore cause I'm an addict? You don't like it when I get drunk?!"

There it was again. Jeongguk was slowly getting used to Yoongi getting high in the beginning of the relationship. He thought it was rather normal, most adults did it for the sake of feeling good but lately Yoongi had been going overboard.

The memories of Yoongi getting a heart attack brought tears to Jeongguk's eyes. The last thing he ever wanted was to see his boyfriend get hurt, especially if it meant going to the hospital.

"It's not normal for a person your age to get a heart attack, Yoongi! What if it happe-"

"So be it! Why the fuck does it matter if I die anyway!" He threw his glass filled with unfinished whiskey on the ground, the shards scattered all across the floor but Yoongi didn't care much for it.

"It's my fucking body! If I die, it's my call!"

He yelled at Jeongguk, another thing Jeongguk had been getting used to. But it was scary whenever he got physical, when he hit him, choked him on the bed violently just like in that moment. That was something he could never get used to.

Jeongguk's vision started to blur. Maybe because of the lack of air or the pools of tears in his eyes, but he regained his ability to breath clearly when Yoongi just stopped.

His tears fell onto Jeongguk's cheek. Yoongi couldn't hold in his cries anymore and began to weep as he hovered above his precious baby. Apologies spilling out of his lips nonstop and his sobs got louder and louder.

"I didn't mean it."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm crazy."

"Please forgive me."

"I love you."

And more were repeated and Jeongguk felt so bad. He had never seen Yoongi cry the way he did and that was also when he realized that though Yoongi knew so much about Jeongguk, Jeongguk knew almost nothing about Yoongi. Of course Yoongi would get angry at me, he thought to himself.

He began to notice that there must've been so many emotions that Yoongi had been suppressing for the longest time and even Jeongguk wasn't aware of what it was that was going on in his head.

"I'm sorry too.. I'll make it up to you in the morning, okay?"

"Mhm.. Okay.."

They had just woken up after a long night of sleep. The feeling of Yoongi's hands wrapped around his neck, choking him, still lingered, but he did his best to forget about it by reminding himself that Yoongi was drunk and it was an accident. He wasn't in his right mind.

But now it was the morning, the past is in the past and Jeongguk was going to finally do what he needed to in order to fix their relationship.

"Yoongi."

"Hmm?"

Yoongi stood next to Jeongguk, he watched him make pancakes for breakfast and it was always good to know that not only was Jeongguk good company but he could cook too, even though he wasn't a pro.

"Tell me more about yourself."

"Huh? What are we strangers?" The older chuckled and snuck his arms around his boyfriend's waist. He wasn't exactly tall enough to rest his head on his shoulders, so Yoongi settled for his back.

"All I know about you is either from the internet or just basic info like your favorite food or color. I don't know your friends, family, I don't know anything.."

He switched the stove off and turned to face Yoongi. His soft, red hair was so messy as he just got out of bed, his mouth still reeked of alcohol though he had brushed his teeth already, but that didn't get in the way of Jeongguk planting a kiss on his boyfriend's lips.

"You know I don't have any friends besides Taehyung and I'm not in contact with my family anymore.."

"Tell me why then."

Jeongguk held him tighter, not wanting his questions to offend him in any way. Really he was just curious. There must've been a reason for his secret keeping.

However, Yoongi wasn't going to be easy like that. He'll make Jeongguk learn himself, who Yoongi truly was.

"What about you tell me about what you know so far?"

Yoongi was being difficult, creating a little game and Jeongguk had to solve the puzzle, but he was willing to go a long if it meant he got answers.

So he got a plate and stacked exactly three pancakes on Yoongi's plate with ten slices of strawberries on the side and maple syrup drizzled on top, but not too much. Why did he have to know about Yoongi's eating preferences but not about his personal life.. It was frustrating.

They sat in the dining room in peace and while Yoongi ate, Jeongguk chose to skip breakfast.

"You aren't eating?"

"No, I'm good."

Yoongi shrugged and continued eating, he was waiting for Jeongguk to basically interrogate him.

"So you wrote a song for Suran right? Wine?"

Yoongi nodded, smiling as he knew where the question was going.

"In an interview, you said your first love broke your heart and you said it scarred you. What happened?"

"Haha. Jeongguk, you're so naive, just like everyone else."

The red haired man placed his fork and knife down, leaning closer towards his baby, "This is a secret, okay? But that's just called a marketing strategy."

Jeongguk furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"You think I'd let a girl cheat on me like that? Fucking hilarious." Yoongi was amused by how the public so easily believed all his lies. "I knew if I said that more people would feel bad, therefore feel inclined to buy the song."

Then he proceeded to point at his shelf, stacked with all the awards he had won over the years.

"I'm not letting anyone break me that easily, Ggukie."

"So were all of the things you say in interviews a lie?" Jeongguk asked, was everything about Yoongi he fell in love with all not even true? Then again, he shouldn't have believed everything he heard online.

"I don't know, maybe? I lose track of the things I say on camera, haha!" He was delighted to see the distressed look on Jeongguk''s face. That was a common feeling he experienced when being with Yoongi, along with confusion and uncertainty.

"Why? Are you angry at me?" He put on a pout on his face again, turning on the switch that allowed his tears to fall.

"It's hard for me Jeongguk.. I lie to them because I needed to prove to my family that I can be successful in this work field. If I fail, they'll laugh at me again, remind me that I'm a talentless loser."

Jeongguk cursed at himself again. He was so pissed that all he ever did lately was make Yoongi cry.

"That's why I lie, that's why I don't talk to my family. There, now you know." Yoongi stood up so abruptly from his chair, not even going to bother with finishing his food.

"I have work to do." Yoongi glared at Jeongguk with no emotion in his eyes and turned away. "You should go. I'm getting distracted."

And so with a heavy heart, Jeongguk left Yoongi's apartment with trails of tears in his eyes.

"Why am I such an asshole.."

"What's up with you, man?"

Jimin just finished a four hour session with a client and saw Jeongguk enter the room with a miserable look on his face. But then again, everything about his outward appearance was so miserable.

"Hey.. Are you okay? You've been calling in sick a lot lately." Jimin crouched down to take a peek at his best friend, but he had his hands covering up his pitiful face.

"Jeongguk, look at me. Come on." Jimin had the patience level of zero and pried Jeongguk's hands off and there he saw how pale and Jeongguk actually got, the bags under his eyes were so visible even under the dimmed lights.

The shorter male's expression softened at the sight. "What happened, Gguk? If you were still sick you should've stayed at home. You know I'd always cover up for you."

Jimin's thoughtful words brought a smile to Jeongguk's face for a while, but then the sadness washed over him once again.

"It's not that, hyung.."

"Hmm? What is it then?"

"Yoongi hates me!" Jeongguk shouted full of pain. Tackling the blond man with a hug. A hug he so badly needed. He knew he was in the wrong, pressuring Yoongi to tell him the truth when he wasn't even ready yet, but it still broke his heart whenever he couldn't even hold Yoongi's hand.

They hadn't seen each other in three days because Jeongguk was so afraid of saying the wrong things again and that's what he told Jimin.

"Well, you guys have been together for five months right?" Jeongguk nodded.

"Of course you'd want to know more about him! What's so wrong about that?!"

Jimin was angry, but angry was also an understatement. He wondered how anyone would dare to hurt someone as fragile as Jeongguk.

"But I forced him, hyung! It was a sensitive topic for him! He wasn't ready.."

"I guess you have a point." Jimin was stubborn but decided there was no point in fighting back. "Just go to his apartment and apologize, can you do that?"

"I'm scared.. What if I make things worse?" Fear was written all over Jeongguk's face. Fear of being abandoned by the first person he had ever looked up to as a hero. Fear of being left by the person he fell in love with.

So Jimin assured him that everything was going to be okay and he was going to help Jeongguk get Yoongi back the next day.

For the most part, Jeongguk felt reassured, he had a good feeling in his heart, everything was going to be just great tomorrow.

But then Jeongguk went home and got a knock on his door.

The tears were running down his cheeks, then fell down to his shoes.

Yoongi was so angry at Jeongguk. "Why the fuck didn't you call me?!" His heart was beating at a rapid speed and the veins in his neck were showing up.

"I tell you to leave the apartment ONE time and you decide to NEVER come back?! Is that what you thought I wanted?!"

"W-wait, the neighbors will-"

"Fuck them! What matters is that you're being a complete jerk, you know that!"

Yoongi pushed past Jeongguk, letting himself in and slammed Jeongguk onto the door and locking it at the same time.

His lips crashed against Jeongguk's and he almost forgot how addictive the older man felt against him, and strangely enough there was no taste or smell of alcohol. He was sober doing this, he was almost never sober when he cried or broke down the way he did now.

But kissing just wasn't enough for Yoongi. He tugged on Jeongguk's hair roughly, a soft moan escaped his lips and Yoongi took that as a chance for his tongue to explore and violate every inch of Jeongguk's mouth. And when he was done, he left sloppy, wet kisses all over the younger's neck, sucking on the flesh that got him to whimper in nothing but pleasure. Once he was finished marking the skin purple, Yoongi kicked his shoes off and pulled him to the sofa he saw in the corner of his eye.

Jeongguk let himself fall on the couch and watched desperately as Yoongi unbuttoned his shirt as fast as he could. The hot tension between them was so apparent and nothing like it had ever been before. Finally after what felt like an eternity, Yoongi managed to get the shirt off and he hovered above Jeongguk as usual but he wanted to make Jeongguk wait.

"Why did you stop?" His breath was unstable and he had longed for this to happen again. Making love with Yoongi was the only thing that kept him going for the past few months.

"I'm not giving this to you so easily."

"Please.. I'm sorry. I won't do that again.."

"Really?" He licked Jeongguk's earlobe sensually, whispering the words slowly, to which sent tingles throughout Jeongguk's body. Making it harder for Jeongguk to contain himself.

"Yes, I swear! Please just fuck me already.."

"As you wish, beautiful."

"Yoongi?"

"What the fuck is it now, baby.." Yoongi's voice was muffled by the pillow under his head.

Jeongguk chuckled at the sight before him. He knew Yoongi wasn't a morning person. And after a night of unholy acts it made sense that Yoongi would take longer to wake up. He was exhausted and wasn't ready to deal with the world just yet.

"Would you ever get a tattoo?"

Yoongi grunted in annoyance but eventually sat up straight. It was obvious Jeongguk didn't care about Yoongi's lack of sleep, so he decided to just do what it was that Jeongguk wanted.

"Me?" He thought for a while, but then realized that tattoos were never anything that he was crazy about.

"I don't know, maybe."

"Really?!" Jeongguk's eyes widened in delight.

"Yeah, why not?" Yoongi was a person that had no time for regret. If he were to do something, he'll do it without a second thought.

Jeongguk untangled himself from the sheets and ran out of his room to go grab something important.

Yoongi didn't wait for him to come back, instead he enjoyed his moments of peace before he was going to be disrupted by Jeongguk again.

"Would you get a tattoo right now though?" His hands were full with his tattoo equipment and Yoongi didn't think Jeongguk was serious at first. But he should've known at that point that Jeongguk was very spontaneous.

Yoongi sighed and watched as Jeongguk was setting up all of the things he needed on his bed. Then he handed Yoongi a book filled with all the things he drew for inspiration.

"You can look in here and choose one if you don't know what you want."

Yoongi snatched the small book from Jeongguk's hands and scanned through the pages.

Jeongguk was so obviously excited, he was imagining how insane it'd be to have his art on Yoongi's virgin skin.

But Yoongi didn't have an eye for art. He was unimpressed and bored.

"They all look boring."

He then proceeded to throw the book on Jeongguk's lap. His pride was so hurt by the small comment made by the person he loved most. Both his tattoos and art were the things he was most proud of himself for, Yoongi knew that. So how could he so carelessly judge like that?

Jeongguk felt as though he needed his validation, but he got blatantly rejected.

"Oh.. Okay then what do you want then?"

"Hmm, I want something really beautiful."

Once again he was hurt that his art wasn't considered beautiful in Yoongi's eyes, but then he figured that everyone had different tastes.

"Beautiful like?"

Yoongi pretended to think. He tapped his lips with his index finger, hummed and enjoyed his baby's pitiful face.

"I want something beautiful," He leaned closer to Jeongguk's face.

"Just" Cupped his face with his hands.

"Like" Pulled Jeongguk to his lap.

"You." And kissed the top of Jeongguk's head with love .

He smirked proudly to see that he got Jeongguk looking like a blushing mess. He pushed back Jeongguk's bangs and kissed his forehead. "Ah, but there's nothing in this world that's even remotely close to looking as beautiful as you."

Jeongguk giggled at his lover's cheesy lines, what's gotten into him was all he kept thinking about.

"Ah.. I'm serious, Yoongi! I wanna give you a tattoo right now."

"Hah, why is that?"

"So I can be your first." The words weren't supposed to be as sexual as it was, but being on Yoongi's lap just aroused him so badly. "I wanna be the first to take away the innocence of your skin.."

Jeongguk was so bold all of the sudden which took Yoongi by surprise. He bit a sensitive part of his skin and Yoongi tried his best not to make a single noise but a small grunt was heard not long after. "So can I?"

"Yeah, yeah alright. What don't I do for you, baby?"

His words were sweet like honey and brought a smile to Jeongguk's face.

"What do you want then?"

Yoongi didn't think long and traced a line over a specific tattoo on Jeongguk's body.

"If the target of your loathing is me, I'll go up on the guillotine."

Jimin stood outside Jeongguk's apartment. Worried and stomping on the ground like there's no tomorrow.

"Come on, open the door, Ggukie.." He mumbled to himself.

Jeongguk had missed work for four days in a row which was so unlike him. Their boss was worried that something had happened to him and told Jimin to go check up on him. So he did.

Jimin came with a hat and a bomber jacket, a scarf to ensure complete warmth to top it all off. He also brought a pot of warm soup just in case his best friend didn't have anything to eat.

After knocking on the door a few more times, the door finally opened, revealing Jeongguk with only a pair of shorts and a thin, white shirt. From standing outside the apartment itself, Jimin knew that the heater was off and Jeongguk's chapped lips, pale face only made the entire scene even more heartbreaking.

"Jeongguk what the hell!" He pushed past Jeongguk and let himself in.

Jimin went to the living room and placed the pot of soup on the coffee table before kicking his shoes off.

"It's winter! Why didn't you dress warm! The heaters are off! Are you even eating at all?"

Jeongguk couldn't remember when was the last time he actually took care of himself. Everything that happened after Yoongi broke up with him was a blur.

"He never loved me, Jimin.."

"What?"

"Please.. Don't make me say it again."

The sheer memory of Yoongi calmly telling Jeongguk to gather all his stuff and leave was so unreal. It felt as though he was taking a calm walk on the beach when suddenly a huge school bus came and crashed into him. Random and surprising.

He swore that everything had been going well besides the occasional arguments, but the things they fought about was nothing they weren't able to fix. Why did he have to end the relationship so abruptly like that?

"He just said to me one day, take all my stuff and leave." He was choking on his words, "A-and I asked him, what I d-did wrong, right?" He was a stuttering mess. "He s-said he didn't want me anymore. He didn't nee-need me anymore!" And so he sobbed on the ground, his face buried deep in his palms, he was shouting so loudly as if he was hoping that Yoongi would hear him and come back. But why would one come back if from the beginning the moments they shared were one sided.

Jimin ran to Jeongguk's bedroom, pulling the blanket from the bed and wrapped it around Jeongguk's cold body. The cries were so painful to Jimin's ears that he couldn't help but let a tear or two slip. But he had to switch on the heaters first before he could finally comfort the younger man.

Finally when the tasks were done Jimin finally got down to his knees and curled up under the blanket next to Jeongguk. He took off his bomber jacket and scarf, wrapping the two around the raven haired man, adding some extra and very needed warmth. But lastly, he hugged Jeongguk tightly, transferring as much of his body heat to him as he could.

"I'm going to kill that bitch."

"Open up, dickhead!"

Jimin stomped extremely impatiently stomped on the floor, knocking on the door nonstop. It seemed to be a pattern for Jimin at that point, but instead of soup, the blond man just brought a whole lot of attitude.

He heard a person groaning from the other side and finally the door opened. Jimin was so offended to see Yoongi look so calm and collected after what he had done to Jeongguk.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah you can actually. Just shut the fuck up and listen." He was fired up and the fact that Yoongi didn't even flinch pissed him off even more.

"I don't know who the hell you think you are, but you really fucked up, Jeongguk, you know that?" His blood was boiling and his vision slowly started to blur, but he couldn't start tearing up in front of Yoongi. He was just so mad that his emotions were all over the place.

"If you were never interested in him, why couldn't you just leave him alone?! He's such a sweet guy and I've never in all the years that I've known him, seen him look so miserable. That was of course before you ruined his life!"

The blond man had his hands balled in fists. He was so tempted to just beat him up right then and there, but controlled himself, waited to hear what the asshole in front of him had to say.

He started off with a sigh, and rubbed his face tiredly. "Listen, I didn't mean to hurt him like that."

"Oh, yeah sure, what the fuck does that mean? You just accidentally messed with his feelings for over half a year? You didn't mean to do that?"

When Jimin puts it that way, even Yoongi had to admit it sounded ridiculous. But it was in a way true.

"I didn't want to mess him up like that but he just made it so difficult."

With that, Jimin was left in an awe. He was utterly disgusted by the man's careless behavior.

"Okay, I get it. All the times you insulted his work, his looks, all the times you yelled at him and abused him was all an accident. Oh, but the last one was totally alright cause you were drunk. It's alright, just blame it all on the alcohol instead of your recklessness."

Jimin spat. He didn't care if he was crying at that point. He didn't let the pain in his chest stop him from spilling the facts.

"You." Jimin pushed his index finger onto Yoongi's chest. "You are a fucking monster." He pushed him harshly again.

"If I ever catch you near Jeongguk again," Jimin held onto the doorknob.

"I will fucking kill you."

And slammed the door in his face and made his way back to Jeongguk's apartment. But first he felt like he needed a bath after encountering what he thought was the human replica of garbage.

"Hyung.. I really think you should go see that therapist again.."

"No, Tae, it won't help."

"Please?" Taehyung was practically begging at that point.

Taehyung felt so bad for Jeongguk after hearing the things Yoongi had just told him.

"It didn't work last time, why would it help now?"

"Let that kid be your motivation to heal! Come on, hyung.. You can't be like this forever.." Though Taehyung knew that some of the things that Yoongi had done to others were unforgivable, Taehyung knew that Yoongi's actions were sometimes beyond his control in some ways.

Yoongi stared at Taehyung confused. "That kid? My what? Motivation?" He laughed at how silly Taehyung's suggestion was.

"How was that kid any different from all the other fans that I've slept with?"

Taehyung thought hard. Anything he said wasn't going to help so he had to be smart about it.

"Well, for starters.. He was the person you had the longest relationship with." Then he thought again.

"You got a matching tattoo with him didn't you? Don't even think about getting it removed." Taehyung said with a stern voice, but it was difficult to take him seriously with the animal print, face mask on.

He continued to list more reasons though. But none of them stuck with Yoongi and Taehyung gave up on convincing him. Yoongi was such a stubborn and narcissistic man, it was close to impossible to change his mind, but Taehyung loved him too much to give up.

"Listen.. if you don't make an appointment.. I'm just gonna call them and make one for you!"

Yoongi wasn't shocked at all by his determination, but then he couldn't understand where that determination came from exactly.

"You know.. his friend was right about me being a monster."

"No you're not. You're just a wounded soul waiting to be saved."

"I don't want-"

"You need this, hyung. You just don't realize it yet." Taehyung cut him off completely. Yoongi was just too predictable.

Taehyung's heart ached, but in a good way. He was happy and had a good feeling for Yoongi's future. And he wanted to make sure that Yoongi knew that.

"Everyone deserves love, hyung. Even sociopaths.."

#bts #yoonkook #jungkook #yoongi #fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fan fiction #gay #lgbt #bts ships #bts one shot #sociopath #angst #yoonkook angst #yoonkook oneshot #sad ending

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queenofcats17 · 5 years

Text

The Fine Art of Self-Deprecation

I really like @insane-control-room‘s Johan, and since they wrote this story where Esther and Johan are actual siblings, I wanted to write something where Esther’s canon counterpart meets Johan’s canon counterpart.

Esther’s main canon is this. She’s in other stories I’ve written, but that’s where I introduced her and that’s the closest AU to the main canon of the game.

Esther had thought she was used to her brother’s weirdness. She was used to the living toons, she was used to the demonic rituals, she was even used to hearing about the horrifying sacrifices he’d performed using his employees. But alternate dimensions, that she was not used to. And yet, here she was, in an alternate dimension, talking to an alternate version of her brother. She’d heard stories about this sort of thing before, mostly in fiction, but never had she imagined she herself would witness the phenomenon of parallel universes. This world was so different from her own, and yet, some things were still the same.

She and Joey had gone back to the studio that day to make sure there was no lingering demonic magic. Joey was still on thin ice with everyone. Henry had managed to reverse everything Joey had done, and Joey seemed to regret his actions, but everyone was still wary of what he might do. Being that Esther was his older sister, and thus the one best able to control him, she had been entrusted with the task of accompanying Joey back to the studio.

“Do you have the key or...?” Joey paused in front of the door to the studio. Esther nodded, digging around in her purse until she found the right key.

“How did you get that?” Joey asked.

“This place has been “abandoned” for years, so the city is trying to buy it back. They want to bulldoze and build something.” She replied, fitting the key into the not. “Since they couldn’t find you, they came to me. I had a key made and was going to check it out later. But Henry beat me to it.”

“Oh.” Joey’s shoulders slumped a bit at the prospect of the studio being torn down. Esther pursed her lips, glancing back to her brother.

“I know you’re upset to lose this,” She said, her voice soft. “You worked hard to build it and you don’t want to let it go. But this place is a monument to your mistakes, and it needs to go.”

“I know.” Joey nodded, hanging his head.

“You can always start over.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “You can learn from your mistakes. You can make things better.”

“I think I’ve run out of chances, Esther.” Joey smiled sadly before going inside. Esther sighed and followed.

The studio was darker than she remembered. The last time she’d been there, the studio had been in operation. She let her eyes wander over the walls and ceiling, taking in the ink and cobwebs. Joey set off with purpose down the halls. He seemed to understand what they needed to find, which gave her some comfort.

“What are we looking for?” She asked, staying a step or two behind. She couldn’t help but be reminded of when they’d been young when Joey had taken her on ‘adventures’, which had generally involved him dragging her through the woods near their house while he made up some kind of story.

“I’m not sure,” Joey admitted. “But I need to check the Ink Machine to make sure it’s off.”

“Isn’t the machine back there?” She gestured behind them. They’d passed the area where she knew the machine resided.

“That’s the smaller one. I need to check the big one.”

“The...big one,” Esther repeated. Henry had described the Ink Machine as being pretty big. If that was the smaller one, what was the bigger one like?

“Why do you have two Ink Machines?” She asked, fighting her urge to pinch the bridge of her nose and sigh.

“....Reasons.”

“What kinds of reasons?”

“Creating life reasons?”

"Right. Of course.” She gave in and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She wasn’t going to ask. She probably wouldn’t understand his explanation anyway.

“Alright, lead the way.” She said.

As it turned out, the big Ink Machine was at the very bottom of the studio. It was baffling how massive the studio actually was. Esther had seen the blueprints for the studio. She knew how it was supposed to look. And this was not it. Not to mention, the number of places that were flooded was just physically impossible. The studio defied the laws of physics. After a certain point, she just decided it was black magic and stopped questioning it.

“Here we are!” Joey said proudly once they reached the big Ink Machine. It was massive. The size of a small house. Esther could only stare at it in complete shock and veiled disbelief.

“This is completely ridiculous.” She muttered.

“I think it’s pretty cool,” Joey said. “Come on! I want to show you the inside!” Esther tentatively followed him through the sea of ink and into the machine. The inside of the machine was strange, certainly nothing like she’d imagined the inside of a machine to look like. It looked almost like the passages of the studio. There were glass cases in some of the walls, showing inky forms that resembled humans and one that looked like Boris.

“This is my favorite part!” Joey led her into a small room at what she assumed was the center of the machine. It looked like a throne room. There was a large chair in the middle, surrounded by projectors. On the walls, screens were playing clips from the Bendy cartoons. There were chains hanging from the walls.

“What was this place, Joey?” Esther asked quietly. She could think of only a few ways for the projectors to end up down here, and the majority of them involved decapitation. She’d heard the story from Henry of how Bendy had ripped Norman’s ‘head’ off of his shoulders. From what Henry had said, the demon had taken the projector with him. How many times had that scene played out?

“It was- It was....” Joey’s bright smile slowly faded. He stopped talking, staring at the chair. There was a faraway look in his eyes as if he was seeing something that she couldn’t.

“Nevermind.” Esther shook her head, stepping toward the center. It was then that she noticed a reel sitting on the chair. Frowning, she started climbing the steps to inspect it. She picked up the reel, turning it over in her hands. It had ‘The End’ written on it in her brother’s handwriting. She made a small noise of interest. Maybe it was some sort of lost footage. She had to admit, she was rather curious what the reel contained. And there was a projector right there. It might have served as a head once, but it was nothing more than a projector now. Turning, she bent down to put the reel in the projector. As soon as she did this, Joey snapped back to reality.

“Get off there!” He screamed. “Don’t touch that!” But it was too late. She was already fitting the reel into the projector. Almost immediately, the room began to shake, a bright light blinding the siblings. The last thing Esther heard was her brother screaming her name. Then there was only blackness.

She woke up in a strange void. Everywhere she looked, there was only blackness. She sat up, looking around with a frown.

“What on Earth?” Her voice echoed back on her from the darkness. She stood up, brushing herself off. She supposed it was her own fault for touching the reel. She should have known better. She sighed in irritation at her own foolishness. But then again, beating herself up wasn’t going to get her anywhere. So she started walking. She had to figure out where she was and how to get back to Joey before he did something rash.

The darkness stretched on in all directions. She had no idea which way she was supposed to be going. But she kept walking. She couldn’t stop. She couldn’t give up. That was the way it had always been. There were people counting on her, so she wasn’t allowed to stop or give up. But still...She felt remarkably lonely and hopeless when faced with this blackness. And her feet were starting to hurt.

“Is anyone here?” She called. The only answer she got was her own voice echoing back on her. She suddenly felt very small, as if she were a child again. There was no one here. She was alone. A whimper escaped her lips unbidden. She stopped, shaking her head. No. She couldn’t let herself be weak. Then, suddenly, she heard someone crying. It was a familiar sound, one she’d heard before. Many times before.

Immediately, she zeroed in on that, following the sound until she found herself in front of a door. Above the door was a lighted sign saying, ‘Johan Ramirez’. No, that wasn’t right. The name above the door didn’t match the voice she was hearing. The voice she was hearing was her brother’s. She couldn’t count how many times she’d come home to hear that crying. Her hand was on the doorknob before she had time to think. She deliberately paused, staring at the door. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to go in there and comfort the man she was certain was her brother. But the name above the door wasn’t his. What if she ended up walking into a stranger’s home?

“Joey?” She said, her voice soft. Immediately, the crying stopped.

“Who’s there?” That was her brother’s voice. She was certain of it now. She turned the knob and entered. To her surprise, she found herself in her brother’s office. The one he’d had at the studio. But the man sitting at the desk was not her brother. He looked a little bit like her brother, she’d admit that. The same perpetually messy dark hair (she remembered all the times she’d tried to smooth it down before they’d gone to synagogue, only to have it pop right back up), the same gangliness he’d never managed to outgrow, the same stupid pencil mustache. But this was not her brother. His skin was too dark, his eyes too wide and innocent, and Joey had never worn glasses in his life.

“Who...Who are you?” The man with her brother’s voice asked.

“I’m...” She found herself at a loss for words. There was so much pain in his eyes. He reminded her so much of the Joey she’d known before. The one who’d tugged on her skirts and shown her his drawings and always smiled and told her he was alright even when he wasn’t. The Joey she’d lost when he’d run away from home.

“My name is Esther.” She managed to say. “Esther Drew.” Her maiden name was a closely guarded secret. No one knew she was related to the head of Joey Drew Studios. At least, not until she’d arrived at Henry Stein’s house to offer reparations for what her brother had done. But this man, this man who was so much like her brother. She would give her secret to him.

“Drew?” The man’s eyes grew wide.

“There was a sign outside the door when I came in. It said ‘Johan Ramirez’. Is that your name?”

“I mean, yes, but most people call me Joey Drew.” The man, despite his tall stature, seemed to be trying very hard to make himself disappear.

“What would you like me to call you?”

“Johan would be fine.” He said, still very distressed. “How did you get here? No one is supposed to be able to find me.”

“I...I think I got lost. I was wandering out there,” She gestured to the void behind her. “And I heard you crying.”

“Lost?” Johan uncurled himself a bit, tilting his head to the side. “I-I suppose that makes sense. Getting lost is the only way anyone would find me.” Esther walked over to sit in front of him. She wanted to reach out and take his hand, to tell him it would be alright. But that would be strange. They were strangers. Weren’t they?

"What do you mean?” She asked. She knew she was asking a lot of questions. It was her nature. How she’d survived. Be persistent.

“It’s not important.” Johan shook his head, drawing into himself once more. “You should leave. I’m sure you have a home to get back to.”

“No.”

“Please.” He begged. “Whoever you are, you’re better off forgetting me and going back to wherever you belong.”

“I’m not leaving you.” She reached out and took his hand, holding it tight.

“You don’t even know who I am.”

“Then tell me.”

“I’m Joey Drew. That’s all you need to know.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Esther’s gaze was firm, unyielding. Johan’s was pleading and weary. Finally, Esther began to speak.

“My name is Esther Klein. My maiden name is Drew. I have a younger brother named Joey Drew, a husband named Robert, and two children named Rachel and Isaac. I’m quite certain now that I’m from a different dimension than you are.”

“Another dimension...” Johan echoed. “That...That does make sense. I’ve visited other versions of myself before.” Almost absentmindedly, he squeezed her hand tighter. She began rubbing her thumb over the skin of his hand, the way she had when she and Joey had been little.

“I was at the studio with my brother.” She continued. “To make sure there were no leftover traces of magic. I...touched something I probably shouldn’t have. Then I was here.”

“Did his studio fail too?” Johan asked. His gaze wandered around the office. Wherever they were now, it probably wasn’t in any studio in any world.

“It did.”

“I worked so hard.” Johan looked down at his hands, one on the desk and one holding Esther’s. “But Henry left. Everything fell apart.” He started to cry quietly. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to let it go. The studio was all I had! I just wanted Henry back!”

“I know.” She said. “My brother was the same way. He was always so stubborn. He could never admit defeat, no matter how bad things got. It was always the best and worst thing about him.” For a moment, they just watched each other, taking in each other’s presence. Then Johan quietly asked,

“Could you tell me more about him? Your Joey, I mean.”

“What do you want to hear?” She offered a small smile.

“Just...anything.” He shrugged slightly. “I want to know what kind of person he is. If he...made the same mistakes I did.” Esther instinctively squeezed his hand tighter, hesitating at the question.

“He...He was different when we were little.” She said, staring down at her hand in his. “He was such a happy little boy. He loved drawing more than anything. No matter what I was doing, he’d always come up and tell me about whatever story he was making up. I was never any good at drawing, but he wanted me to draw with him anyway.” She smiled wistfully. “I’m six years older, so there was always a bit of a divide between us, but I would have done anything for him. I beat up a lot of boys who bullied him.”

“It sounds like you were a good sister.” Johan smiled sadly.

“I wasn’t. Not good enough.” Her smile fell. “We both got older, we grew apart. I’m the oldest. I had a lot of responsibilities. And our parents had a lot of expectations for us. I followed what my parents wanted us to do. I went to college. I became a lawyer. But Joey...Joey wanted to be an artist.” She paused, pursing her lips. “They were worried about him. Starving artist is a term for a reason, after all. But he took their concern to mean that they didn’t believe in him. He started to believe that none of us thought he could do it. I'd just graduated law school, was working at a firm. I wasn’t there for him. I should have been there.” Tears were welling up in her eyes, decades of repressed guilt welling up.

“I’m sure you did all you could.” Johan jumped to reassure her. She shook her head, trying to hide her face.

“I should have been there. If he hadn’t run away, if he’d still had us, he wouldn’t have done all this.” Her throat felt tight.

“He...ran away?” This seemed to catch Johan’s interest, distracting him from the crying woman before him.

“He ran away from home after he graduated high school.” Esther took a deep, shaking breath, managing to calm herself a bit. “He wanted to go to an art college. And he went to one, evidently. That’s where he met Henry. Did you run away from home too?” Johan tensed, avoiding her eyes.

“I’d rather not talk about it.” He said.

“Well, alright.”

“So...Your Joey. Did he...Did he...Were the employees...” He started and stopped a few times as if he was trying to come up with the right words. She knew what he was trying to say, though.

“He sacrificed his employees, yes.” She replied. “Henry was able to fix things, but...They’ve all been left with scars.”

“I see.” Johan deflated a bit, sinking into his chair. Esther didn’t ask if he’d done that as well. She already knew what the answer was going to be, based on the look in his eyes.

“You were right before,” Esther said after a beat or two of silence. “I don’t know who you are. But you remind me of my brother.”

“Is that a good thing?” Johan asked with a weak laugh.

“You remind me of the brother I used to know. Before he grew to hate the world and everyone in it.” She continued. “You remind me of when he had hope.”

“I don’t have any hope left,” Johan replied, his smile vanishing once more. “I don’t even deserve hope. After what I’ve done...”

“We all make mistakes. What’s important is owning up to them and trying to fix them.” Esther remained calm. “If I can force my brother to do it, I can force you too. You may not be my actual brother, but I think you still qualify as a sibling.” She could see in his eyes that he was lonely. He was afraid and isolated and alone. And more than anything, she wanted to protect him. She wanted to enfold him in her arms the same way she had Joey when they’d been children and make all his problems go away. She just wanted to make everything better.

“Are you...You don’t seriously mean that, do you?” Johan’s face went red.

“I’m quite serious.”

“But I’m....I’m nothing.” Johan’s voice got quiet. “I’m worthless. No one would ever want to be related to me.” His free hand instinctively went to touch his back over his shoulder. She wanted to ask, but she knew better. There was obviously a story behind it, one that Johan likely didn’t want to tell. She would respect that.

“We don’t get to choose who we’re related to by blood,” Esther said. “But we get to choose who we want our family to be.” The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, or so they said. That was something Esther whole-heartedly believed in. The people of the studio may not have been related to each other by blood, but they were a family. They’d created a family.

Johan stared at her. Then he began to cry. Esther let go of his hand, standing up and walking over to wrap her arms around him and hold him close. She patted his shoulder, whispering comforting words. After a little bit, she started to sing a Hebrew lullaby her mother had sung to her when she’d been little. Johan calmed at her singing, at her touch. She carded her hands through his hair, the same way she did to her children when they were upset. The same way she did when Joey had come to her crying as children.

“You are not alone.” She whispered to him.

They stayed like for a long time. Neither wanted to let the other go. Esther knew deep down she’d have to leave eventually. He was right. She had a home and a family to go back to. She had her real brother to go back to. Someone had to look out for him, make sure he stayed on the right path. She would have to leave Johan by himself, leave him alone once more. She didn’t want him to be alone. She had a feeling he did bad things when he was alone. To himself. To others. But she had faith that he could be better.

“I need to go.” She finally said.

“I know.” He nodded, his hand on hers.

“I’ll find a way back to you.” They both knew it was a lie. She didn’t know how she’d come here. There was likely no way to recreate it. But she was still going to try.

“I hope you find your way home.” He smiled softly as she moved away from him. “I hope you can help your Joey.”

“I hope you can help yourself.” She replied. She stood in the doorway, staring out into the darkness. Then she stepped out, the door shutting behind her. Johan was alone once more. But for how long...that was uncertain.

Esther woke up to her brother frantically shaking her shoulders. There were tears in his eyes. When she opened her eyes, his face broke in a smile.

“Thank goodness!” He hugged her tightly. “I was so worried!” Esther didn’t ask what had happened. She didn’t want to know. Whether it had been a dream or not, that wasn’t what mattered.

“I’m sorry.” She smiled softly. “I didn’t mean to worry you.” The man she’d encountered in that void was still someone real. She was going to find him again. She wasn’t going to let him be alone. Not anymore.

#bendy and the ink machine #fanfiction #johan ramirez #joey drew #esther drew #esther klein

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spiffyworks · 5 years

Text

Artist’s Software Surfing P1 - Sketching

SSSo recently, after finishing (an admittedly long-overdue) a piece, I decided to download a trial of the new Corel Painter 2019. I hadn’t used Painter since my old DeviantArt days (circa 2005) and wanted to see how it felt with more digital art-veteran hands. Loaded it up, started sketching my default doodle-muse and wow, that “Real 2B” pencil feels great. I loved it so much, and wondered why.

That’s the story that is spawning this weird personal series of Software Surfing. I wanted to write little notes to future-me on how it felt using my favorite sketching tools in each program I have, and after the sixth one I thought it might be a good idea to check out inking, colouring, painting, etc. and writing those down as well.

So I’m writing this series for myself, but making it available in case anyone else can benefit as well. Thanks for sticking with the intro, let’s get into it.

Artist’s Software Surfing P1 - Sketching Artist’s Software Surfing P2 - Inking Artist’s Software Surfing P3 - Colouring Artist’s Software Surfing P4 - Painting

There are many ways to sketch, but this is specifically the classic “pencil” or “drawing” form using the tools with the program’s default settings.

As an introduction, this is my doodle-muse, Cloey. She was my first original character, and though I don’t usually share my anthro art on here (I know that’s not everyone’s thing) I do have a separate blog for that stuff that you can find here if you’re so inclined. If you’re familiar with Artgerm (and you should be), she’s basically my Pepper.

Corel Painter’s “Real 2B”:

The one that started it all. The pencil just GLIDES, and I’ve always loved when you can tilt a pencil tool and it will shade just like tilting a real-life pencil. The only thing I want from a program now is to be able to bind touch to blenders so I can use my finger to smudge-blend the scribbling. (I tried drawing that fist so many times /fume)

Likes: Tilt functionality, line width variance, stroke speed, eraser Dislikes: Rebinding Rotate Canvas tool was a pain. I like Shift+Space, and that key combo is reflected in the shortcut panel, but it just continued to pan. Never worked for me, and rotating or flipping the page quickly is crucial for my sketching process. Also sometimes if I quickly resize the eraser and mash it down to use, it won’t detect any input.

Photoshop, Kyle Webster’s “2B” & “Animator Pencil”:

**Disclaimer** Firstly, I’ve used Photoshop for over 15 years now, and it’s a great digital art tool, but for drawing and painting I find it’s sorely lacking. It’s slow, expensive, and unintuitive. That being said, there are some things this program does exclusive to others so I’m still clinging to it (desperately) and while I would definitely recommend something else for budding digital artists, I have to supplement my misgivings by purchasing additional plugins and tools, such as the famed Kyle T Webster’s Ultimate Megapack for Photoshop (

which is now complementary with Photoshop CC, damnit

). Unless otherwise noted, all the brushes I use in Photoshop will be from that pack. **End Disclaimer**

Following off the heels of Corel, I remembered messing around with another “2B” (which btw is my personal favorite traditional pencil to sketch with) in Kyle Webster’s Drawing Box in Photoshop. It felt a bit similar, but with no tilt functionality and it really lacked the chunky-thickness (a scientific term) I enjoyed with Painter’s pencil. I switched to my favorite (and the favorite of MANY digital artists btw) his “Animator’s Pencil”. So chunky, but the ability to shade lightly... It’s really a fun brush to use for sketching digitally. Still one of my absolute favorites.

Animator Pencil Likes: Line width variance, texture fills in and scales perfectly Dislikes: It’s a photoshop exclusive, a program that for some reason you can’t bind shortcuts to whatever you please, takes forever to load, and WAY too often suffers input lag while drawing. Also no tilt shading, :’( aw

Paintstorm’s “Textured Pencil” & “Pencil Tilt”

As a bit of an aside, I love Paintstorm, Paintstorm is what got me back into digital drawing and painting after doing 3D and game design for 7 years. I bought it for the very low price of entry (2 licenses for $30) and was impressed by its ability to customize literally anything in the program. You can create your own tool/brush boxes, bind any shortcut to any key combination, and every single brush tool adjustment comes with the most customization control of any program I’ve come across since Photoshop set the bar way back in the day. Out of the box a lot of the basic brushes have that old OpenCanvas or PaintTool Sai feel, but more recently they’ve added some very textured default brushes you can play around with. It’s also hands-down the FASTEST program I’ve ever worked in. I highly recommend giving it a try, it’s great for learning and experimentation. I grew a lot working in Paintstorm.

The Textured Pencil is a fun sketching brush, you can get as think or thick as you’d want and it keeps a clean outline. The Pencil Tilt really blew my mind the first time I used it. YOU CAN SHADE! It was the first time I had ever seen a program do that. The tilt has a great texture, fantastic control, and gets just as dark as you’d need. I’d recommend using them both, the Textured Pencil for a cleaner sketch, and the Pencil Tilt for something more expressive or loose.

Krita’s Ink-Tilt & “Sketch”:

I’ll be honest, I have almost no experience in Krita despite having downloaded and given it a try back in 2014. It was a hell of a time to figure out how to rebind my usual shortcuts (flip horz, rotate canvas). I couldn’t even rebind colour grab/eyedropper. Yikes. I opened up the “Sketching” brush box and there were only two options, made worse as one was a sketch pen... That lacked the flexibility of ballpoint.

First I grabbed the pencil dubbed “Sketch” and was bewildered why the size of the circle was so large compared to the mark it made. Very confusing. Feeling intimidated, I abandoned it immediately to try out the “ink_tilt” (which by the way there’s no tilt functionality??) and hated it. I reluctantly went back to the pencil and just started trying to make marks. Wow. It’s weird, but surprisingly fun. You have to be willing to relinquish a LOT of control, but the shapes the brush makes while moving and tilting during a stroke can yield some really interesting and suggestive shapes. I would say great for early concepting or making something really loose and expressive. Fun to play with, but not really practical.

Clip Studio Paint’s Real Pencil & Rough Pencil

I’ve been wholly immersed in CSP since I purchased the program back in late 2016. It goes on sale often, so you can pick up a nice fully featured program for ~$35. I’d had my eye on it for a while and still really want to get into self-publishing comics, so I picked it up, bought a couple of brush packs for it (it’s pretty lacking in default painting tools) and I’ve been illustrating in it ever since. The brush creation isn’t as fun as Paintstorm, but brushes are quite customizable. I usually like to use the “Rough Pencil” if I want just a little texture and line variance, or the “Darker Pencil” for something cleaner. Trying to be different, I just jotted out a couple heads in ones I don’t normally use, the Real Pencil and Design Pencil. The Real Pencil has a lot of texture, but for some reason in CSP the textures don’t seem to scale with the brush, so I tend to avoid using it in most cases. I hate the design pencil, I just could never get dark enough. I guess that’s probably the point, though.

Well, that definitely wraps this digest up. I feel refreshed after trying out a lot of new digital sketching brushes. I was really reminded of how much I enjoyed drawing in Paintstorm. I hope someone other than me found this useful or otherwise inspiring! Sometimes, especially if you’re stuck in some art blockage, it’s a good idea to try something new, and for me digitally that’s hopping programs and trying new brushes.

I’m thinking about doing inks, colours, and painting at some point. Let me know if anyone’s interested in those! I’m planning on doing some for myself eventually, but I might expedite a post if anyone is interested. o/ Take it easy, y’all.

Artist’s Software Surfing P1 - Sketching Artist’s Software Surfing P2 - Inking Artist’s Software Surfing P3 - Colouring Artist’s Software Surfing P4 - Painting

#process #sketching #software #guide

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bendy-dreamland · 6 years

Photo

ACT I SCENE I - ACT I SCENE II

“Alright, Joey… let’s see if we can find what you wanted me to see.”

The light of the sun illuminated the hallway, letting Henry see the dust in the air, the cobwebs in the corners of the hallway, and the dripping, black liquid that came from a small crack in the ceiling. The scent of dust, mildew, and ink was in the air, and it wasn’t a pleasant combination, the ink was quite strong.

Frowning softly, he walked inside, down the old, familiar hallway that led into the workshop. A wave of nostalgia hit the former animator as he looked at the workshop, at the large sign to his right, displaying the name of the studio. There was the projector in the far, left corner, that would show clips of different shorts and episodes. A desk sat in the right corner, a cutout of Bendy was near it and the projector. The sunlight only illuminated so much of the room though, so Henry removed the flashlight from his pocket, turning it on to look around.

Hmm, where was the light switch again? Maybe the power was still on here, sometimes old buildings still had a little bit of juice in them.

He fumbled for it, brushing his hand against the switch on the left wall, right next to the entrance to the hall he just walked through. There was a buzzing sound, of the electricity, before the lights came on for just a moment, then they were out with a loud pop.

Henry rolled his eyes in annoyance, but he watched the dim glow of the emergency lights begin to brighten the studio. Hm, does that mean the generator still worked? Hm, guess he had been right about his assumption on the power. Leave it to Joey to keep the power somewhat going in an abandoned building.

And abandoned it was, there was dust on every surface, pieces of old, yellowed paper were scattered about on the slightly dirty floor. Flashing his flashlight on the floor, Henry could faintly make out the pattern of shoe prints in the dust. People were here, there are several different shoe prints. He knew one of them had to be India’s, and another set had to be Joey’s. It was a bulky device to carry around his neck, but Henry was glad he brought his camera as he began to snap photos of the different shoes, making sure that none of them were his own.

Once he was sure he had enough, Henry turned, looking over at a familiar area. He smiled sadly as he made his way over, staring at a lone desk that sat in a corner, a few sheets of paper pinned to it.

Just as he left it, concept drawings of Bendy for some episodes, and an original sketch he did of Bendy’s face, with Joey’s ‘NO!’ post still attached to it. The detective left it right there when he left, as a bit of a ‘fuck you’ to his former friend.

Standing next to the old desk was a Bendy cutout, like the paper he had seen before, it too had yellowed with age. “Heh, hey ol’ friend.” He replied, looking at the cutout before noticing the room off of his office. Ah! The old design department, where his fellow animators and artists would bring to life Bendy’s sets and props, even one-shot characters. The animation industry is a bizarre mix of animation, living toons, and sometimes Over World sets and actors, but in this studio, it was always just the first two things. Joey didn’t want to add Over World elements to the cartoons, for some reason.

Peeking into the art department, Henry didn’t see anything really unusual that would count for a clue. Except more Bendy cutouts, and sheets of paper with drawings of Bendy on, there wasn’t anything Henry could count as out of the ordinary, unless if the department looking like it was just up and abandoned counted.

Clucking his tongue, he started to take photos of the desks and anything else noteworthy. Once he was sure he got enough photos of some of the desks from different angles, Henry continued his search.

He found an interesting thing in a hall that he had turned down though. Written on a wall, in what he now assumed to be black ink, was the phrase ‘Dreams Come True’. “What the…” He blinked, snapping a picture. Great, this had to be something like the graffiti on the door, a prank to mess with anyone who trespassed.

Henry turned, carrying on with his search. Henry noticed something at the end of the hallway though, a room he remembered they had really just used for storage, but before it had once been Joey’s office. A cold shiver ran up the man’s spine as he stared at the shadowed room. He lifted his flashlight, pointing it at the room, but it was as if the darkness engulfed the light.

Then he realized something, he could faintly hear something metallic moving.

He hadn’t heard much in terms of noises in this old place, outside of the leaking of the black fluid (it had to be ink, the smell is so strong in here), and the echoing of his own foot falls. But now he could hear machinery, what’s on in this place? The generator? No, that should be in the basement, he shouldn’t hear it from up here. Then again, it’s been ten years, and Joey probably made changes while he was gone.

Though, he was curious as to why his desk was still where he left it, with the sheets of paper he left behind…

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Henry started to make his way towards the end of the hall, when he stopped. Shining his light on the ground, he noticed black foot prints scattered about, leading to a door. He knew this was the door that led to the downstairs lounge, where he and the other employees would relax and come up with ideas. He approached the door, trying to turn the knob, but it was locked.

Behind him, Henry found that the hall leading to more offices and the break room was blocked off by a metal grate. That… was new.

The machinery was louder now, down here. Actually… so was the dripping. There was even a loud groaning, coming from the walls. Well, this place was old, maybe the foundation was settling? He’d better make this investigation quick, he felt uncomfortable, like something bad was gonna happen. Steeling himself for what was in the room ahead, Henry moved forward.

Above the entrance to Joey’s original office was a sign that read ‘Ink Machine’, and it seems this was a room that the emergency lights didn’t work in, as it was completely dark. Lifting the flashlight, Henry found the source of the noises.

There was a giant, strange looking machine, sitting in the middle of the old office. It looked… like it was from this world, but there was something… sketchy about it. Literally, it looked as if parts of it were sketched.

The color scheme was sepia toned, not grays that should be associated with something made of metal. It had a large container of ink, with the word INK written across it, attached to the back, and the machine was shaking and moving. A faucet was at the front of the contraption, and it was spitting out globs of thick ink.

This explained the sounds, but… why was it on? What the heck was this thing, the Ink Machine?

India never mentioned this when she said she looked around the studio. She told him of all the things she had seen that seemed out of place or different from when he was last there, and this was not one of those things. Hell, this seemed like something she should have told him!

The groaning of the walls sounded worse, and the machine seemed to be shaking even more. He felt like he only had moments to take pictures, before something happened, and that what he started to do.

But as he stepped into the room to get some from different angles, Henry noticed one of the puddles of ink on the floor. There was something… moving, pushing out of the ink. It… it was a hand…

A bony, human-ish hand, coated in ink.

It slapped itself against the floorboards, scratching at them, as if it was trying to pull itself out of the puddle. The machine was going haywire behind it, and the walls and floor began to shake as more and more of the thing in the ink tried to come out, a full arm was out. He sure didn’t want to see what else was attached to that thing!

“I’m gettin’ the hell out of here!” Henry shouted, turning tail and running down the hall as ink started to force itself out of cracks and holes in the walls. Black pipes, which he hadn’t paid much attention to before, were spewing out the liquid as Henry tried to make his way to the exit. The floors were already started to flood with the stuff, which didn’t make it easy to run away!

What the hell was going on?! What was wrong with this place?!

He shouted in alarm when chunks of the ceiling exploded with ink, almost falling down on him. Shit, shit, shit! He needed to get to the exit! His eyes widened when he turned and spotted the door, it was opened, and ink was escaping from it, he needed to be like that ink and get out of here!

Henry rushed down the hallway, but a loud crack under him alerted him that escape was futile.

Just as the floor gave out, he heard someone shout his name, and something grabbed a hold of his wrist. Gasping, Henry looked up and away from the black abyss that awaited him below, and into the face of the boy from earlier.

But he didn’t look the same, no.

The hand that held tightly to Henry’s wrist was four-fingered, big, cartoony, leading up to a pitch-black arm, hidden under a sleeve. The boy had no neck, and his face was a strange blend of human, by one eye, and toon, based on a large, pie-cut eye with a toothy, strained frown. His bizarre hair was a mix between that and a pair of horns Henry knew well.

“B-Bendy…?!” Henry stammered out, his eyes wide as he looked at his savior.

“Hold on, Henry! I gotcha ya!” The other shouted as he struggled to pull Henry up, using something behind him to pull himself back.

Henry reached up with his other hand, grabbing onto the edge of the hole, using it to help himself up. He looked up at Bendy, who was still stuck between human and toon, but behind him was a tail, wrapped around the door knob on the inside of the door. That must have been what helped him from falling down the hole himself when he caught Henry.

Before the detective could question him, there was a strange, loud sound from down the hall, like that of a monster, before more chunks of ceiling began to fall. “Let’s go!” Suddenly, Henry was being pulled towards the door, before he was thrown onto the porch, hearing the door slam behind him.

“Great googly moogly, Ross!”

Henry looked behind himself, seeing Bendy, the toon, the actual toon, standing there, looking frazzled and annoyed. “I told ya not to go in there! I can’t believe- how stupid are ya?!”

“Bendy…? How are you… you were human… but now you’re a t-toon…” Henry panted hard, the adrenaline rush was starting to end, but not in a good way. He was freaked out, panicking, so much happened in there, what the hell?!

Bendy looked conflicted, glancing around, before sighing loudly. “Henry, I’m doin’ ‘dis fer yer own good, forgive me.”

“Forgive you? What?”

The demon moved fast, and Henry felt something hard against the back of his head, before he blacked out and dropped like a rock.

Shaking his head, Bendy looked at the unconscious man in front of him, laying in a pool of ink that had escaped the studio. “I hope ya don’t mind, but we’re gonna have a li’l talk when ya come to.” He reached behind himself, pulling out a large, black book, before he glanced around.

Coast was clear, not a set of eyes in sight.

Setting it down, away from the ink, he opened it up to a random page. Once more, he reached behind himself, pulling out another item. A beaten-up business card, which Bendy looked over.

“113 Keys Avenue, Henry Ross’ office. Now!”

The soft sound of a record player brought Henry back into the world of the waken.

He could hear a song, one that he remembered Sammy playing for him, on the spot, while he was having trouble working. He had improvised the song on a violin as he sat with Henry in his office, taking a break from the music department.

He called it Sketches, it was Henry’s personal favorite of his, and one Sammy had put on a record that he gave him for his birthday.

Opening his eyes, Henry found himself looking at the ceiling of his office. He knew it was his, there was a pencil imbedded in the ten-foot high ceiling. Henry’s never been able to get it down, and he didn’t bother trying after the first day of it being there.

Wait… how did he get back here? Last thing he remembered was…

“Oh! You’re awake!”

Bendy.

He looked forward, seeing the imp sitting in the chair in front of his desk, for his guests and clients. Bendy was sprawled on the seat, legs thrown over one arm, his back pressed against the other, like he was lounging. The toon was grinning his signature smile at Henry as he held in his single hand a magazine, looks like one from the lounge downstairs.

“Enjoy yer nap, sleepin’ beauty?” Bendy joked, an old one between him and Henry, whenever he’d find the poor guy snoozing at his desk from a long shift.

“No.” Henry stated bluntly. “You knocked me out.” He rubbed at the bump on the back of his head.

“Had to.”

“No, you didn’t.” He sat up straight, eyes narrowing at the demon who didn’t look guilty at all. He frowned as he turned his attention to himself, noticing he was covered in dry ink, his poor clothes… “How long was I out?”

“About two hours.” Bendy replied, turning a page in his magazine with the tip of his demonic tail.

Henry looked at him, studying him. Minus the arm, and the addition of clothing, Bendy looked pretty much the same, if not a little taller. His tail being present is a bit surprising, seeing as Joey hated him having it, or his wings, out. He liked Bendy looking simple in design, and not like a typical demonic toon. “What the hell happened? Why was the studio like that? And why were you…”

“Human?” Bendy looked at him, his grin now gone. “Hmmm… well…”

He stopped, shaking his head. “Nah, you wouldn’t understand. So! Tell me about yerself! Looks like ya took a huge change in careers from bein’ head animator an’ designer!” He grinned once more, flipping to be sitting up straight himself, his tail swishing about.

Henry sighed, he completely forgot how Bendy would always do his best to avoid explaining things. He was a devil after all. “I figured it was better than gettin’ screwed over by the animation industry again.”

“You mean by another Joey Drew, yeah?”

He couldn’t help but crack a smile at his toon’s comment. “Yeah. Plus, I thought it would be a great way to help toons out, and sometimes humans. But you’re avoidin’ a lot of my questions, Bendy.”

The toon let out a loud groan, slumping in his chair. “I don’t wanna talk about da studio! I’ve been avoidin’ it fer four years now! An’ ya ruined dat streak fer me when I had to go in there to save yer butt! Why were you even there? What kinda case would have ya back at dat hellhole?”

“A case involvin’ Joey Drew.”

Bendy’s mouth twitched and he glared at the desk. “So, you know he’s missin’ then. It’s fer da best, don’t need him here or in Toon World anyway.”

Henry crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at Bendy’s comment. “You sound like he’s dead.”

“I doubt he is, you’d be surprised on how many times he’s survived situations dat would’ve left a human six feet in da ground, or had a toon splattered across a wall.”

Leaning forward, Henry reached for a small notepad on the desk, along with a pen. “Bendy, I’m gonna have to ask you a few questions.”

“Why?”

“Because whatever information you can offer could help me with this case. Now, let’s begin.”

Bendy’s widow’s peak arched higher in a questioning manner. “Wait a tick, what makes ya think I know anythin’ about ‘dis case?”

“Actually, all I can get out of what little we’ve spoken since I woke up is that you’ve seen Joey in recent times. Or at least it sounds like you have.”

“Not in four years, actually.”

Henry wrote this down. “I know you don’t wanna talk about him, that you’d rather avoid the topic.” He heard Bendy snort loudly at this. “Bendy, we haven’t seen each other in ten years, but I still know my boy better than anyone.”

Bendy laughed at this, slapping his hand across his knee. “Oh please! You didn’t even know I could become human! But… I suppose you’re da human who knows me best, now there are some folks in Toon World who know me a li’l bit better, but dat ain’t a bad thing, ya know? But… I guess I can go along wit’ dis, not like ‘dis is da first time I’ve been interrogated an’ asked questions about somethin’ I was blamed fer, which I didn’t do!”

Green eyes looked up into black ones. “What do you mean?”

The imp sighed, looking everywhere but at him. “A… a while ago, somethin’ happened in Toon World, which I’m not responsible for, just a reminder! Now I’m apparently on da watch list fer… the High Order…” He grumbled.

Henry set down his pen, sighing loudly as he rubbed at his forehead. “Only you would do somethin’ to get yourself on the watch list of the High Order of Cartoons…”

The High Order of Cartoons, the most powerful cartoons in Toon World and Over World. They are the ones who have left the biggest impacts, the ones who are known the world over, the ones with people wrapped around their gloved little fingers. Mickey, Bugs, Bimbo, Felix, characters like them that pull the strings and control Toon World from the capital city, Toon Town.

They do their best to keep things in order, and Henry’s only had a few run-ins with them when it came to murder cases. They don’t like things ruining their perfect world.

“Look, I don’t even know what got me on their list!” Bendy exclaimed, waving his arm about. “All I know is dat I gotta be careful when I’m in Toon World! Hell, I haven’t even been back there in four years, I’ve been hidin’ up here as a human!”

“Are you hidin’ cause of them?”

“Yes an’ no. A lot of it is cause of Joey. Last time I saw him… somethin’ was really off about him, more so than usual.” Bendy spoke quietly, as if someone was beyond the door, listening in. Henry doubted it, the music was loud enough to cover their voices if anyone tried to hear through that heavy door. “I’m tellin’ ya da honest truth when I say ‘dis Henry, but I don’t remember what happened when I last saw Joey. We were in Da Studio, he wanted my help, but…”

He touched at the empty left sleeve of his shirt. “I was out cold, fer a week, found mahself in an alley in da rain. I was missin’ mah arm, but someone had bandaged it all up, an’ there was…” He stopped, thinking for a moment, no, Henry didn’t need to know yet. “Well, I never returned to Da Studio after dat, don’t know what happened. An’ as much as I’d like mah arm back, I ain’t returnin’ if there’s a risk of losin’ more! Da further away I am from Da Studio, da other studio, an’ Joey Drew, da better…!”

Henry nodded, writing this down. “Alright, I get it. Joey must have done somethin’ bad and then ditched you. Typical. Do you know what he was doin’ four years ago? What you were doin’?”

“Not actin’, dat’s fer sure. I was doin’ dancin’ an’ singin’ at a nice li’l bar in Palomino City after da studio closed, but… well, had to give dat up, ended up goin’ into hidin’ when mah name was blacklisted. Dat was shortly after I lost mah arm. Bet Joey got me in trouble. As fer what he was doin’? I don’t know, hadn’t seen him in about a year at dat point. But before then, he had been blowin’ all our money on projects! Secret ones, things only some of da staff knew about, an’ none of us toons!”

He moved, getting up to crawl onto the desk to get right in Henry’s face. “But I think he was up to no good long before any of ‘dis, before I left, before you left.”

“What… makes you say that?” Henry asked, moving back a little from the toon.

“I dunno… call it toon intuition or demon intuition, but Joey was doin’ crazy stuff behind da scenes since da beginnin’, an’ I think it has somethin’ to do wit’ why he’s missin’! He had made a name fer himself in Toon World, an’ not in a good way. Da guy has enemies, I just know it.”

Henry stared at him, frowning as he nodded. “I wouldn’t put it past him. Tell me about the Ink Machine.”

Bendy shot back, staring hard at Henry. “Dat machine is a sin against nature! I don’t know what Joey was doin’ wit’ it, but he’s had it hidden in Da Studio for years, who knows how long! After you left, he revealed it, an’ said it would revolutionize da animation industry, benefit toons an’ humans alike. But he never said what it did, he wouldn’t let people mess wit’ it, except fer when it needed repairin’, an’ even then he would watch ‘em do it! It was, like, da more important thing to him.”

“How is it a sin against nature?”

“It gives off some kinda… weird, evil vibe? Ya know? Somethin’ ain’t right about it.”

Henry nodded, taking note, before looking at the imp. “Okay, tell me, what is up with you… turnin’ into a human? I never created you with that ability, nor did I ever see you do it before I left.”

Bendy shrugged, his tail swished around, careful not to knock over some of the stuff on the desk. “It was somethin’ I found out I could do a while after ya left, scared da bajeezus outta Boris an’ Alice when I did it in front of ‘em.” He chuckled sadly. “It had been an accident… we were messin’ around, playin’ wit’ toon physics, get things ready for a scene.”

He looked over at Henry. “Boris told me ‘look human, bud’, and I thought I could just, I dunno… shift mah ink or somethin’. But da next thing I know, I’ve got flesh instead of ink, ten fingers, a nose! I had a nose! It scared ‘em somethin’ bad. Joey… he found out, couldn’t tell what he was thinkin’, but he was… interested, to say da least.”

“How interested?”

“What happened to yer hand? Why do you got nine fingers?”

“Avoidin’ my question with your own won’t work.”

The demon groaned loudly, pouting as he looked at the desk, not at Henry. “He wouldn’t stop askin’ me questions, okay?! He was, for a while, wantin’ to figure out how to turn a toon into a human! It was stupid, gave up after a month when he couldn’t figure out how it could work.”

Well. That was an unexpected fact to learn today.

“Why… would he want to turn toons into humans?” The former animator asked, but he got a shrug once more.

Bendy picked up a framed photo, looking at it. Henry knew which one it was, it was an old picture of him, Bendy, Boris, and Alice. “I don’t know, to be honest. I asked him a few times, but he said it would be helpful, an’ dat’s all he’d say. He’d get annoyed if I kept askin’, so I stopped. Turnin’ human is helpful, hiding around non-toons an’ such. Can’t really… turn into anythin’ else without lookin’ like a black an’ white toon version of it.”

He set the picture down and jumped off the desk, going over to the recorder player, before he picked up Henry’s camera that sat next to it. “Whatcha get on ‘dis?” From what Henry could see, it didn’t look damaged, just covered in ink. Hopefully the inside was alright, he wanted to process that film.

“Hopefully somethin’ that will tell me what happened to Joey, and… maybe some answers to what the hell was goin’ on in there. I doubt I can go back in, it was fallin’ apart… hey, did you follow me in after I entered?”

Bendy shook his head. “Nah, I walked around an’ when I came back, found da door opened. Went inside, heard ya scream, an’ I waited outside fer ya, until I started hearin’ the buildin’ cave in. I got in there just in time to see ya fall, thank whoever’s up there dat toons move fast! Or else… well… you wouldn’t be sittin’ in dat chair right now.”

“Speakin’ of… how are we at my office?”

The toon set the camera down on the desk. “Brought you here.”

“How? Bendy, you couldn’t have carried me, especially with me unconscious. You aren’t really all that strong.” He got a loud scoff in protest.

“I’m plenty strong! An’ I can’t tell ya how I did it! At least not right now, no…” He looked around, his head spinning completely around before he gave Henry a hard look. “I’d love to tell ya, let someone else know about it, but fer now… well… I’ll tell ya when da time is right, an’ now ain’t dat time.” Henry had a strong feeling that he wasn’t going to get a clear answer out of Bendy about this, so, for now, he was going to chalk it up to toon logic.

“Right, well, can you at least tell me how you knew my address?” He asked, before something was pushed in his face. It was one of his old business cards, from his early days. The address was still the same, the number had changed though, as did the little logo he drew for himself. It was old, bent in places, and stained with what looked like coffee. “Where’d you get that?”

“Found it years ago at a place in Toon Town, on a bulletin board.” Bendy replied as he looked up at Henry. “I figured it would be good to have on hand, in… in case I could see ya again. Since you never came back to da studio…”

Henry felt guilt as he looked at his toon, reaching out to put his hand on Bendy’s head, rubbing him between his horns like he would a cat between its ears. “Bud, I would have done anythin’ to see you and the others, but I got slapped with a damn restrainin’ order from Joey! I don’t even know how he convinced a judge to get him one. It ended years ago, yeah, but by then… I figured I wasn’t welcomed anyway. Despite meetin’ up in… a weird circumstance, I am happy to see you again. How are Boris and Alice?”

Bendy’s face dropped, he looked upset. “I… I don’t know… I haven’t seen ‘em in years. When da studio closed, we went our separate ways. I lost all contact with Alice, but Boris spoke wit’ me for two months before it was radio silence. I tried to, ya know, report it, but no one cared enough to look into it. There are a lotta toons and humans who didn’t care, the High Order just said that they probably went somewhere else in Toon World.”

“Why didn’t you contact me?”

“I tried, but da number didn’t work. An’ I tried to visit, but… I got scared. Also, a toon? Wanderin’ around wit’out a human? Not a good sign in a place like ‘dis! Seen a lot of cops around here!”

“It’s not the best area.” Henry mumbled. “Hmm… let’s find Joey first, and I’ll see what I can do about Boris and Alice. Anyone else?” He wanted to ask about her, he desperately wanted to know, but he kept his mouth shut.

Bendy shook his head. “I’ve seen ‘em, workin’ in bars and clubs around Over World, saw some in Toon World, last time I was there. Wait, you wanna help find Boris an’ Alice?” His eyes widened, and Henry could see stars in them. “Henry, please, please, pleeeeeeaaaaasssseeeeee!”

Suddenly, Henry was almost knocked back out of his chair when the imp threw himself at him. “Please find ‘em! Give me closure! I don’t have many friends left, people either don’t remember me or hate me for somethin’ I never did! I only have… some… associates? I guess dat’s a good term, an’ they’re all in Palomino City!”

Henry blinked. Palomino City, that was on the letter from Joey. Hmmm, he might have to take a visit there, ask some questions, look around, the usual stuff. Besides, he hasn’t been there in a while, might be nice to visit. “Do you think I can speak with them? Maybe they know somethin’, since they’re associated with you?”

Bendy looked conflicted before he gave a reluctant nod. “I… suppose, I’ll have to figure out a way to contact ‘em, see if I can meet up wit’ ‘em. They’re gonna have to be yer escort in Toon World, I doubt I can be, can’t go there.”

“Just go as a human, just use a fake name, you’re comin’ with me.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re involved with this, plus… I wanna spend time with my ol’ friend, ya know?” Henry cracked a smile, which got Bendy laughing a little.

He gave Henry a light punch before getting off him. “Sounds like fun! Let me give ‘em a call, see if they’re still willin’ to help!” He grabbed the phone on the other side of the desk and started to dial a number, keeping the phone to his head.

“Hey, it’s me! Yer favorite ink de-DON’T YOU DARE HANG UP!” Bendy shouted before pouted, looking annoyed as he listened to the other on the phone. “I need a favor.”

END OF ACT ONE SCENE TWO

#batim #henry batim #bendy the dancing demon #dreamland story #dreamland art

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searchingthedepths · 6 years

Text

The Day We First Met

As I said once before, this blog uses a combination of literature, art, and audio to tell its story. What I neglected to say was that it wouldn’t necessarily be in sequential order. This event has happened long before the blog story begins, as Bella is still human here, hasn’t become a searcher yet like in our brief introduction. I’ll be dropping little “chapters” like this from time to time to give you something to pick at. ~Kat Alyst

From the Desk of F.K.E.

“So, what’s your story?”

A young lady sat cross-legged on the Prophet’s weathered desk. She’d taken off her worn newsboy cap and laid it in her lap. Gently she tried to fix her scruffy hair with her hand, but it wouldn’t suffice without a brush. The ink-swallowed man in suspenders that sat in the chair beside her stared at the floor. The mask on his face slipped a little. It was unlike him to not immediately fix it.

“My dear sheep, I’m afraid there’s not much else to say. You claim you heard the tapes that reside on this level. Those hold a majority of my tale, to go any further would be…”

Sammy tapered off into the silence. The girl on the desk hopped down from her spot and hugged him tightly. His ink was sticky, and there was no doubt that it was staining her already filthy clothes, but she didn’t mind. There wasn’t a whole lot she could do, she couldn’t begin to imagine the horrors this studio had faced all that time ago. But that begged the question, why was it all still here? Could it be fixed?

It took Sammy a moment to react. His body stiffened in the girl’s arms, and his heart beat was slow and groggy. He gave her a light tap on the back before removing her from his body.

“I’d advise against that dear sheep. Believe me, you don’t want this stuff on you any more than it already is,” he said.

She lowered her head, glancing over her body. It had already wrecked her pants while searching for a way out, everything was flecked with black. Her left hand had the tiniest bit on it, and even though much time had passed, it was still wet. It was as though the ink could never dry. She looked up at the man and held his shoulder.

“How do I get you out of this?”

“I beg your pardon?” Sammy replied.

“How do I get you out of this?” she said again. There was a determined glow in her eyes, it was as bright as the red pigment that stained the top of her apron. Sammy leaned backwards, her grip still tightly held his shoulder. What little of his face was visible showed bewilderment and confusion.

“Why…why would you want to? I-I don’t understand, what is the meaning of this?” said Sammy.

The girl squeezed his shoulder. “There’s a human underneath all of this. I saw those creatures on the way in. They’re the same as you, aren’t they?”

Sammy hesitated to respond. “Yes, yes they are. But humanity means nothing down here.”

“Well lucky for you, I don’t belong down here. I’m stuck here, there’s no way for me to get out, or any of you for that matter, unless that old man finds what you need him to find. If I’m gonna be trapped, I may as well be useful and give you a hand,” she said. She let go of his shoulder, placing it on her hip.

“My sheep, you’re making a grave mistake. There is no saving us, only the Lord can set us free, and that will only happen if we follow his orders,” Sammy said.

“Do you really believe that?” she retorted.

He couldn’t look her in the eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Look Prophet, I’ve spent most of my life cooped up and wings clipped. This isn’t anything new to me. We both want to pursue new dreams, and we can’t do that unless we get out of this dump. So, if there’s any way I can play ‘divine intervention’ and help your guy get us out of here, I’d love to try it,” she said. She looked rather serious.

Under the ink, Sammy’s eyebrow was raised. She didn’t really think she was capable of eliminating a demonic curse, did she? But no, he could tell she was intent on trying. Sammy mulled over the options, stroking his chin as he stared at the floor. He knew there was no hope of getting out, and that made the reality of two humans being down here all the worse. There may’ve been a lot of bacon soup before, but Henry had been pounding it in his efforts to stay alive, there wouldn’t be enough to sustain them both. It had already been several days since the girl had fallen here, and he could clearly see the paleness in her face. She looked sickly. It was only a matter of time before either of them died, and while he knew his Lord’s plans would guarantee that Henry survived to a point, he wasn’t certain the same would be allowed for an accidental trespasser. There was no winning. He’d had to help sacrifice so many employees over the years, he didn’t want his conscience stained with another death, especially someone so young. But the only alternative, it was equally extreme. He would never wish the hell he’d be cast in on anyone, no one deserved to live undead. But what choice did he have? Either swallow her or leave her to rot. It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fair.

Of course, his Lord would always be happy to have a little more labor on the premises…No Lawrence, don’t think like that, that’s what got you into this mess. Still, how could he justify it? Truth was he couldn’t. He stared at his hands, entranced, his mind blurred. What to do, what to do. There’s got to be something, I can’t go through this again. Something within the bitter man had softened. He clenched his left hand into a fist, squeezing tightly, barely feeling anything. Perhaps, just perhaps…that might just work.

Sammy rose from the chair and knelt beside the desk. He opened one of the drawers to reveal a can of soup, the last one in the area. He raised his head to look at the girl. It was noticeable that she was lost in thought as well. But as quickly as it came, the awkward silence was broken by her cough. It was hoarse and stuffy, she pounded her fist against her chest a few times to try and silence it. Sammy glanced at his nubby feet, taking a deep breath before he stood up. He was a rather tall up close. As she slid off the desk, she only came up to just below his shoulders. He placed a hand behind her back and lead her out of his crumbling office, navigating his way through the music department. He sighed, something broken and deflated. The girl looked up at him in curiosity, unsure of what to expect.

Sammy reached into his pocket and pulled out a keyring. He went up to one of the thousands of locked doors and opened it, revealing a tiny kitchenette that hadn’t been used in quite some time. There was a small couch and a few chairs around a table. He opened a cabinet that was filled to the brim with mismatched mugs, bent spoons, and a few bowls. Could it have been this was a break room at one point? Sammy sat his guest down on the couch and got to work and heating the soup on a barely functional stovetop, while he searched for something else in a smaller cabinet. He pulled out a small box and gave it a sniff.

“Still good. Now there’s a surprise.”

The girl watched him intently as he worked. His movements were rhythmic, each step methodical and practiced, like clockwork. A pinch of this, a little of that, a stir here, a tap on the rim. It was mesmerizing. He returned to the table moments later, a bowl of soup in one hand, a cup of tea in the other. He motioned for her to join him, both sitting in chairs. He pushes the soup to her spot.

“Eat up, there may not be anything else for a while,” he said.

“T-thank you sir, you’re very kind,” she replied quietly. She took a spoonful and gently blew on it before taking a bite. It was definitely bacon, no doubt about it. The stuff was horribly old, she dared not ask the expiration date, but it wasn’t so bad. Heck, a little salt and a few spices would probably do wonders for it. She slowly worked her way through the bowl, leaving nothing untouched.

Sammy watched as he sipped his tea. He hadn’t thought to make it in a while, but even though he required no food or drink to fuel him, the tea on his throat was soothing. Under the mask, his smile was hidden. That felt much better. He moved a hand over his diaphragm. The last time he’d had this peppermint brew, gosh, how long ago was it? Maybe five years after Henry had left? All a part of his personal rituals, something he’d drink before warming up to sing. Even now he could still remember the words, fidgeting his fingers as though her were playing the old chords on his keyboard. He lost himself for a moment, humming under his breath. It wasn’t until he heard the spoon clink in the empty bowl that he realized she was smiling at him.

The girl chuckled. “I’d love to hear the full piece one day. You have a lovely voice.”

Sammy turned away, slightly embarrassed. “You’re very kind little lamb. But I’m afraid that particular composition remains unfinished. It was the last one I worked on before well…before my assignments were changed.”

“That’s a shame, it sounds so beautiful. If I could make anything half as good as that, I’d be rich.” She laughed, a tinkly sort of sound, like a little fairy.

Sammy smirked a little. “You flatter me. I dedicated my entire life to my music before all of this happened. Nothing could be less than perfect.”

“Must be nice getting to work on your craft like that. It’s rare I run into another artist with that philosophy.”

He took another sip of tea. “Oh really now? What field do you work in?”

“Well up until recently, I was a printer. Worked in a shop not too far from here. But that’s all in the past now, they laid me off the day before I wound up here.”

“Now why’s that? You seem perfectly capable to me.”

The girl lowered her head. “They found me out. They learned I was a woman.”

The prophet stiffened, somewhat confused. “I don’t follow.”

“When I applied for the job, I sent in my resume under the name Bryan Ewe. Every shop I’d tried to work at before denied me, wouldn’t even consider hiring a woman. I kept up the act for a long time, wore fake beards, created a whole identity for myself. I was determined to follow my dreams, work my way up to be an illustrator, run my own plates and sell them. But I didn’t even come close,” She buried her face in her hands, “What the hell was I thinking? There was no way I was ever going to make it as an artist. No one ever believed in my dream.”

A small puddle of ink started rising through the floorboards. The prophet noticed, but he chose to keep quiet. He had to be careful.

“Come now, there had to be someone. Didn’t you believe in your own ambitions?”

“Yes, for a long time I did. Maybe that was a lie, there was one other person who believed. My father…god rest his soul.”

The puddle retreated a little from under her feet.

Sammy felt like he was hit in the chest. “I’m….I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. It’s not like anything could’ve been done to save him,” She leans back in her chair, gingerly holding her hat over her heart, “I’ve been alone in this world ever since. Nothing has made any sense, even less so here.”

She turned away, but Sammy could very clearly see the tears that were sliding down her cheek, gently washing over her freckles. The puddle below her dissipated completely. The ink knew when to back off thankfully.

She’s got nothing left. No wonder she’s trying to help us. Sammy wasn’t one for religion before the incident, but he had a friend in the studio who was once. She’d always spoken to him about feeling ‘renewed’ after returning home from church. Perhaps it may be best if he called her in a little later, she would know how to deal with emotions better than himself. He stroked his chin for a moment. A question had come to mind.

“You said you pretended to be a man named Bryan. What’s your real name?”

“Bella. Isabella Ewe,” She wiped the tears from her eyes, “And since you never formally introduced yourself, am I right to assume that you’re Mr. Lawrence?”

“Sammy, if you please.” He nodded

“Sammy, alright, I can remember that. So, who are they?”

“They?”

Bella pointed at the door. There was a trio of searchers peeking passed the doorframe. They slinked backwards upon being noticed, shy and petrified no doubt. But Sammy didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t get angry, he didn’t holler, he didn’t start cackling evilly. No, instead he did something far less expected.

He removed his mask.

“They’re my coworkers.”

#Searching the depths au #searchers #bella ewe #bryan ewe #sammy lawrence #batim #bendy and the ink machine #fanfic

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