#i need to read more horror by women i know. I know. its dire. im working on it! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ask-joeydrewstudios · 6 years

Text

Family Sticks Togehter

@phoena12 submitted: a quick fic i wrote for Angst War 2k18, hope you enjoy!

It had been a peaceful day or as peaceful as the studio could get, the occasional pipe bursting and sending tidal waves of ink in every direction, the sounds of pen scratching onto paper as the widening grin of Bendy takes shape. Sammy had taken to shouting as of late, much to Wally’s and some better un named interns glee, as Bendy plays prank after prank on the poor music director. Their footfalls soon heard as bendy comes screeching out of an ink stained office with a peeved (and soaked) Sammy Lawrence, insults spitting from his mouth. It takes Wally a few minutes to stop his cackling.

Sweet melodies combined with a twirl of angelic singing comb through the halls of the studio, a few employees stopping briefly by the recording studio to catch the sunny tune. Susie making the bass vocals as Alice leads with the main part, the two lost in the joy of it. Jack leans to one side of the recording booth, scanning over the lyrics and hums along to the instrumental parts.

Down below, where memories breathe a little more life than ought to be, sits Shawn, tinkering away with his bendy plushies. A careful eye analysing each and every aspect of the doll he has in hand. Satisfied, he smiles and places the doll down amongst others. A comforting hand is placed on his shoulder as Lacie asks a genial question. Shawn shrugs, stands and gestures at an oil smudged Lacie to lunch. She scoffs but heads for the elevator nonetheless, making a joke that Shawn’s eyes were looking a little green today. He laughs. He usually forgets to take his goggles off.

Several floors above, Joey sketches out various ideas to put forth for the next cartoon strip, various doodles of Bendy pulling pranks or just getting into mischief. Alice being the voice of reason and Boris the lovable antagonist. Notes are hastily scribbled at the sides, some a little indecipherable in his haste to have the picture make sense. He was sure Henry and the others would love them. At least, he think they would if not for the shouting that interrupted Joey’s thoughts. It sounded like Sammy and Bendy were at it again. He heaves a sigh, pushes up from his chair and begins a casual walk out towards the racket. Oh sure, he was gonna give them hell when he caught them but why waste that energy now. Joey waves a hello at passing co-workers.

“I’m gonna ring yer damn neck ya imp!!” Sammy all but screeches.

“Ya gotta catch me first!” Bendy snickers back as he quickly rounds a corner, only to bump into his father figure, Joey.

“I got ya now twerp!” Sammy hollers as he catches up with Bendy and grabs him by the scruff, “oh yer in for it now” Sammy spits. Failing to notice Drew but we’ll just blame it on the fact his face is covered in ink and not the overriding frenzy that has him worked up instead.

“I don’t think that is in your best interests Sammy” Joey speaks up. An audible gulp can be heard as Sammy snaps his neck to meet the cold blue eyed gaze of his boss, dropping Bendy in the process and eliciting an “oww” from him.

There’s a slight pause from both demon and music director before Bendy wraps his arms about Joey’s legs and whimpers a “he started it!” How very convincing and certainly Joey would be had he not had to deal with this same situation time and time again.

“You know damn well you started it ya pest!” Sammy glowers down at Bendy, “he flooded my office again” this he says to Joey, firmly holding his gaze. Joey could have guessed that by the state of his appearance alone.

“That fact is very evident, Sammy, what im most concerned about is the level of noise and destruction (at this he looks pointedly down the hall the two had come cavorting through) that you two have caused”. If looks could kill, Sammy would have dropped dead right there on the floor. “And Bendy” Joey begins with that parental tone that brooks no space for argument, “how many times have I told you not to flood Sammy’s office?”

Bendy idly rubs his forefingers together, a petulant frown showing, “26 times?” he tries but it doesn’t yield any form of a smile from the older man. Bendy gives up his childish act and goes to stand by Sammy, the both of them looking like disgraced children.

“47 actually” Joey sighs out. He wishes Henry were here instead. “Bendy, you’re not allowed in the animation department for the rest of the week”

“What!? But Joey-“Bendy squawks before being cut off.

“No.” it’s harsh but Bendy needs to learn. “As for you, Sammy, your coffee intake will be reduced” that might be pushing it but it’s the only way Joey can really reprimand Sammy.

“Fine…” Sammy grouches, unwilling to fight further on the subject with his boss. He supposed, as well, that he had caused a bit of havoc for the rest of the studio, especially for Wally.

“Good, I shall leave you two to-“

“But what am I meant to do for the rest of the week!” Bendy suddenly pipes up, his hands fisted slightly and looking none too happy about the arrangement made.

“You can draw or you can go play in the other departments” Joey tries.

Bendy grumbles under his breathe, looking about as mad as a dozing kitten, as he stalks off, stomping his little feet every now and then. Sammy nods a curt farewell as he goes to clean himself off. The both of them, Joey concludes then and there, are like spoilt children. Ah well, they would get over it sooner or later and besides, a week wasn’t a long time and Sammy could live without coffee. It might even do his health some benefit.

~~0~~

He was mad.

No!

He was fuming!

He was…he was….what was that word Sammy always used?

Pissed! Yeah that was it, Bendy was pissed as all hell. He’d show Joey, he could find plenty to do without sitting with Henry and watch him draw out each careful line of his beloved cartoon. Nope, Bendy wouldn’t miss the soft scratch of pen to pristine paper, or the gentle mutters of the other animators or the lulling hums of Henry as he zoned out.

Nope!

Nu-uh!

Bendy wasn’t gonna miss any of it. In fact it would do him wonderfully to get away from such a dull place. Think of all the pranks he could pull on everyone else! Oh, Joey would regret this decision. Not that Bendy ‘cared’.

Except his plans hadn’t, well, gone according to plan at all.

Wally had caught on to all of Bendy’s pranks and even alerted the rest of the studio to any other of his shenanigans (the gall!), so pranks were swiftly thrown out the window.

Even Alice and Susie wouldn’t put up with him. They had welcomed him into their conversation but the little demon soon lost track or sense of the conversation and after asking the 40th or so question pertaining to “why a guy’s butt looks good in dress pants, compared to overalls”, both women had kicked Bendy out of the conversation. If you asked Bendy, guy’s butts looked better in skirts!

And Lacie and Shawn were no help either. Lacie pretty much kept Bendy at an arm’s length whilst she worked on some mechanical thing and when Bendy had inquired as to what it was she was working on (and god did he ever regret that question) she had shown him a metallic doll that looked like him.

Except it was missing its eyes.

And some of its teeth had fallen out.

Oh and there was oil coming out of its eyes which was not ok?

Bendy had promptly fled the room screaming and hid beneath a stack of dolls.

Another dire mistake because today was filled with those apparently.

Shawn just had to pick him up out of the stack and Shawn just had to stick a needle dangerously close to his eyes. To Bendy’s amusement, Shawn did scream when finding it to be the real him but, you know, having a needle that close to your eye?

That’s not such an amusing thing.

So, Bendy had booked it outside the studio and yes, he was always told never to go outside the studio but the place was beginning to get too stifling and the fresh air and cooling wind felt good. The sky was blue with thick fluffy clouds, like out of a picture book. It was serene. Nice. Bendy inwardly thanked Joey for giving him a reason to go outside. What Bendy failed to know was that for a toon, stepping outside was a death wish.

He didn’t hear their footsteps or their murmured voices, only the flash of a camera and the shocked cries of humans. He didn’t recognise the voices. He didn’t recognise their faces either. Oh but they recognised him for sure.

Bendy had darted back into the studio, the people shouting and causing an uproar now. They banged against the door. His heart fluttered once and then began an uneven beat. Fast and unrelenting. Oh god, what did he do?

With tears welling in his eyes he runs to the one person who could sort out this mess.

Henry.

He knows, he shouldn’t go anywhere near the animation department, the building anxiety of Joeys disappointed features tearing at the young toons heart. Bendy felt as if he would burst.

As he reaches Henry, he’s a crying mess, ink and tears dripping heavily to the floor. No doubt a puddle would form. Henry is instantly on his knees.

“Hey,hey, what’s wrong buddy?” with a soothing tone that has Bendy bawling even more, the other animators coming to see the ruckus.

It hurts. It hurts so much because bendy is crying and sobbing and begging. “Im sorry, im sorry” and “please forgive me Henry” over and over again. His voice goes hoarse and cracks and god, does he feel like he’s gonna burst. There’s too many people and as Henry picks up his shaking form, Bendy burrows his face into his shirt, staining it in tears and ink.

~~0~~

The next day is even worse when the newspapers arrive. A picture of Bendy standing just outside the studio door, a soft and surprised look on his face, on the front page. He cries as Joey stares blankly at the page, eyes widening as he reads each word.

“Drew studios conducting experiments?” one reads.

“Famous star, Bendy, seen outside Drew Studios in freak photo!” another states.

And on and on such titles go, the wonder and mostly horror, at the favoured cartoon being alive.

It was a scandal to be sure.

The studio is silent that day, nobody works.

Henry holds Boris close, as Susie links hands with Alice. The silence a sharp and stabbing pain.

Bendy resigns himself from the chatter but Joey picks him up and holds him close.

“We’ll figure this out” he promises. Bendy cries and hopes that he does.

~~0~~

He’s not sure how many days have passed now.

The newspapers have grown less restive and in response to the heated media, the public takes a stand and protest outside of Drew studios.

It’s horrible and noisy and it’s all his fault.

Bendy doesn’t cry anymore. Just weak shudders and the occasional whimper.

Alice had yelled at him. Screaming. Throwing her hands about in wild gesticulation. Then she had stormed off and Bendy hadn’t seen her since. Susie assured him that she had calmed down but knew that wasn’t the case. Alice would never forgive him. She would hate him forever.

The thought was a punch to the gut.

Intern after intern had been laid off too, seeing as the mobs were getting rowdy and demanding entrance to the studio. Someone had been hurt, a long and nasty gash down their head. Bendy could still smell the blood.

Joey had even taken an interview stating that there were no living toons and such an idea was foolish. Clearly, the public hadn’t believed it.

It was all his fault.

It was all his fault

It was all his fault!

Hisfaulthisfaulthisfaulthi-

Well-toned arms had picked him as impossibly more tears slipped down his broken features, swaying him back and forth and murmuring soft words.

Henry.

Henry was here and standing at his side was Boris and Joey, both looking worried and aged beyond their years. Alice appeared from nowhere and placed a reassuring hand upon Bendy’s quivering self, a small smile telling she had forgiven him.

“Oh, Bendy…” Henry begins, softly, “no more tears, we’ll figure this out, ok?”

“b-but I… I hurt everyone…” Bendy hoarsely whispers, his eyebrows drawn tight and lip quivering.

“Ya certainly caused a mess, imp, but were used ta cleaning up yer messes” Sammy chips in, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I think ya mean I’m more used ta it, I’m the janitor ‘ere” Wally quips as he shrugs past Sammy. Sammy rolls his eyes in response.

“Oh would you two stop! The boy is clearly upset!” Lacie scolds from the end of the hall, her boots thudding as she makes her way to the growing group, Shawn trailing behind.

“We’re in this together” Alice murmurs as she rests her head on Henry’s shoulder.

“A family that works together, sticks together, is what I always say” Joey supplies, hands on his hips in a triumphant manner.

“Since when have you ever said that?” Susie drawls, earning a few snickers.

“W-well, just now!” Joey replies indignantly. Everyone giggles.

A family that sticks together, huh?

Yeah, Bendy had a whole family at his back that loved and cherished him.

Everything would work out in the end.

((OHH IT STARTED OUT REALLY CUTE BUT THEN GOT REALLY SCARY IN THE MIDDLE AND GOT CUTE AGAIN,,,, i love that... thats some Good Stuff. and they’re a family. they’re calling each other family. ohhhhhh my weakness, my biggest weakness-- thank you for the fic!! ; o ;))

#batim #bendy and the ink machine #bendy the demon #boris the wolf #alice angel #joey drew #henry batim #sammy lawrence #susie campbell #wally franks #shawn flynn #lacie benton #submission #fanfic #angst #phoena12 #I DIE BOI #I DIE #angst war 2k18

69 notes · View notes

shrimpcache · 3 years

Text

Journal 3, 6/28/21

this time, from italy!

Its been a good, good time. I dont have to worry about anything; nothing exists here that must be dealt with immediately lest we face dire consequences. Ive been thinking it these weeks, but it just seems that life moves a lot slower where i am. I dont want to romanticize a country im only visiting, as i dont know the problems they face and the troubles they have to work around, but at least from my perspective, life here seems to be a life id enjoy living more. Perhaps if it wasnt so hot id change my name and move here. or maybe france, since i know more french...or sweden? Somewhere not north carolina, somewhere where the people are nice, somewhere where i feel i can be something. in north carolina, i am no one. I went to school and my teachers have already forgotten me, or they will soon. I was never enough to get attention; never good enough, never loud enough, and i could have been something to someone if anyone tried to spend the time to let me. But my melancholy of my perpetual lostness in the place meant to be my home isnt what i want to talk about; it’s always there, in the back of my head, and at least for now it can stay that way.

The buildings here are beautiful. Smooth stone with vibrant oranges and pinks and greens. The shutters here, solid wood, nearly all of them a rich and heavy brown, are real and they serve a purpose. During the day, the shutters stay closed as to let what little cool there is stay trapped inside, and to keep the burning rays of the sun out. The sun sets around 9:30, and by july, it’ll still be light past 11. But the wind between the buildings in the cobbled town is cool, and the water is spring fed, and a freezing mountain river runs down just a few minutes down the road. The mountains in the distance are lined with white, highlighted on their ridges and valleys, and the runoff over the rocks of the river is crystal blue. if it weren’t so frigid, it would be idyllic.

We stayed in venice for two days, and there was barely any tourists in sight. Few travellers due to covid meant the streets were bearable, and the shade from all the buildings and the wind from the grand canal made for great weather. Though, its only been reinforced in my mind that any beautiful street turns terrifying at night. So much safety in my head relies on the presence of a crowd; the thought that if i screamed, someone would hear, and people would come running. We went to these two italian boys’ house, and left at 3am after smoking some hash and drinking, but I felt completely sober as we made the 20 minute trek home through empty streets. It felt more claustrophobic with no one there, like my vision had suddenly closed up and the streets ceased to be connected. When i turned around out of precaution, there was a figure there. I also dont know why ive turned on my writers brain, but something about being here and not writing for however many months has me wanting to wax poetic.

Anyways. Here begins my scary story! If anyone besides me reads this, tw for sexual harassment.

So. theres a male figure behind us. We have our arms linked, both of us women under 5′5 and under 140 pounds, with alcohol and THC in our brains. I couldn’t feel either when i saw the guy. I tend to be paranoid, no matter what; when we were going to join the previous boys for a smoke, the whole time i wondered if these streets would close behind us, and they would remember how much we drank and the way we stumbled. But they were fine. We turned down a road to avoid the man behind us, and to my horror, it was a dead end. So we sat, and we waited silently, my friend holding her full metal waterbottle as a baton should someone round the corner to find us. We listened; footsteps echo through stone walls easily, so we assumed we’d hear when he passed. Silence for a minute. We continued.

He had waited. He was looking down at his phone, and when we reemerged, walking quickly, he resumed. After seeing the way we rushed, trying to leave him behind, desperately paying attention to google maps (without wifi, without service. No one was in reach), he called, “sorry! Sorry! im not trying to scare you guys! Sorry!”

we didn’t care. we stopped, and said, “Okay, then you can pass us.”

instead, he stopped to talk, saying we didn’t have to be afraid because he was gay (i dont think he was gay.) He said, “as my sorry for scaring you guys, i can walk you to the rialto!”

we didn’t say where our hotel was, just that we needed to get to the rialto bridge. for some reason, we didn’t say no, we know how to get there. Maybe we both had the thought that it was better to have a strange man than no man at all; the united states engrained in us that women alone are women in danger. and we felt in danger. As we walked, we tried to make conversation so that we didnt seem so afraid. We were gay too, our parents are the floor above us in the hotel (they werent. they were on another island), that they were waiting for us. Saying we’re gay too was a mistake, perhaps, because he took the inch as if it were a mile.

He started by saying he liked when women peg him. That he likes in it in the ass. We nod along, uncomfortable, not changing the subject for some reason. He stops after a while. We move through plazas, passing a few people, a group of police, heading towards the grand canal. I have my phone checking for dead ends the entire time. If he didnt want to scare us, why would he start talking about sexual things so much? that he liked girls who use strap ons? did he think liking anal made him gay? he was skinny, and my friend would flash her pseudo baton every time he stepped to close. we could easily beat him, but we didnt want that to happen.

We were close to the bridge when he asked my friend if he could come to our hotel and she would fuck him with a strap on. We both said NO, she said i dont have one. he said that she could just use her fingers. In my head, an escalation had occurred. It had gone from talking about his sexual preferences to revealing that he wanted one of us to do that to him; that he wanted something from us. that he was thinking about her fucking him. that we were suddenly involved in his desires that we hadn’t wanted any part of. It was my last straw. We quickened our pace, and i waved and said “We know where we are now. You can make your way back home, thanks for walking us!” and we left. we did everything but sprint; we went to our hotel and i could feel adrenaline under my skin, still buzzing. It made me feel sick. A few minutes later we agreed it had been sexual harrassment, talking like that to us when we spoke nothing of it, after he had approached us in a dark alley in a country we dont speak the language of. When i think about it i still feel gross.

But other than that, its been a great time! end of this journal for now, i have tax documents to attend to. oh what weird memories im getting here.

#journal #journal 6/28/21

0 notes