✔️Ink Bendy x Reader - Alone Within the Ink #Wattys2019

Worst Nightmare

10/25/17, Edited 7/25/19

"Name?" He heard Joey ask.

"(Y/N). (Y/F/N)." You had replied.

"Well, (Y/N). After careful thinking, taking both your art skills and your resume into consideration, well, you can consider yourself hired!"

That was it. That one sentence. That's all it took. That's where everything started. He learned who you were. He knew how you operated. He knew almost exactly how you thought. It was as if the two of you had been separate halves of the same person. He could always see right through you.

You were always so fixed and attentive to your drawings. Now only did you have fun, but you always put forth your best effort. You never handed anything in on the first try. You always retried, maybe even five times if necessary, to ensure that your work was of the highest quality. You wouldn't settle for anything less than the best, and he could easily figure it out. Everyone could.

You worked so hard on anything you did, and you were willing to fight for it, even if Joey had disagreed. You fought valiantly, never hesitating to speak up for yourself. If you saw that something was wrong or if something else could've been a better fit, you didn't care to speak your mind. A lot of the time, you ended up opening new windows to Joey, and he obliged to follow your train of thought.

He had always loved that about you, how you would argue with Joey for hours on end, and most of the time, not even about or for yourself. It was always for him. You always fought for what you thought—no, knew—would be better for him. Whether it was his wardrobe or his surroundings, you simply always knew exactly what he wanted, exactly how he felt about everything.

You saw him as a real, legitimate person. The others only saw him as a realistic character, even though being a little devil in truth. Not you. You always tried your best to acknowledge his feelings, tried with all your might to have his mindset and see the world through his little eyes.

And thus, everything you ever created came to be loved by him with such a passion. But there was one in particular that he would forever love with all of his tiny, demon heart. That dashing suit. Joey and Henry, for whatever reason, wanted him to dress as a girl! He barely tolerated wearing a tutu for "Dancing Demon," but dressing entirely as a girl? Makeup and all? No. Never. If they wanted to do that, they'd have to catch him in hell first.

But you? You were different. You created the perfect outfit for a male. He watched you on that particular day, arguing loudly and, to be honest, a tad vulgar in the process, with that Joey Drew. You fought for him, claiming that he was a boy and shouldn't have to dress as a girl. If they wanted someone pretty, then all they had to do was use Alice Angel. I mean, why dress a guy up as a girl when there is a legitimate girl right there to begin with?!

You fought, yelling so hard your throat became very sore and irritable. But what did Joey say? No. He shot you down. He almost fired you, claiming that it was his show, his characters. He claimed that he would do anything he wanted, even if it meant dressing his beloved Devil Darling as a girl while Alice Angel sat on the sidelines.

He couldn't forgive that. He had threatened you with your job, and all you were doing was trying to convince Joey to look through the eyes of his little devil. But Joey couldn't. His own creator couldn't sympathize with him. He would never forget that.

Days passed, and people began to notice your change. You were more tired. You became more nauseous and sick. You were beginning to pale and lose color, both in your eyes and skin tone. You began to lose a lot of your hair.

Everyone thought you were simply overexerting yourself and full of excruciating stress.... Until the day you didn't show up. The absence that lasted forever.

He grew worried. Were you okay? Did it have anything to do with Joey? And more importantly, who would truly take care of him? Who would fight for his own mind and rights? Who else would see him as a live individual?

Weeks passed, and only after week three did he finally overhear the news. Cancer. You had been diagnosed with breast cancer. And by the looks of it, it had been super serious, and the doctors were quite certain you wouldn't make it.

It was at that point that he began to see you disappear before his eyes. Angry, depressed, and in denial, he began to fret and panic. He lost hope fairly quickly.

His world began to turn white before his very eyes, and the next thing he knew, you were there in front of his very eyes, laying unconscious on the hospital bed. He began to panic. The beeps of the heart monitor getting louder as the beeps began to gain a quick acceleration; louder and faster it got to the point where his eardrums almost blew out. He looked at your wide, panicked eyes. In the reflection of your dark pupil, he saw one thing: a tombstone. At that point, he felt his heart drop as near complete silence overtook the room, where only one noise could be heard; the monotonous beep of the heart monitor, signaling the loss of a pulse.

~~~~~~~~

Bendy bolted upright, chest rapidly rising and falling. Although no breath was to be heard, it was obvious he was hyperventilating. He was in so much panic and fear that the ink on his body began to grow very runny, dripping everywhere like mad. It was uncontrollable.

He buried his face in his sticky, gloved hands for a moment, trying to calm himself down. He trembled rigorously, but his quick breathing eventually stretched out and became calm. However, he still trembled.

That nightmare was just all too real. Even though it technically was, since having actually occurred, it just felt like he was reliving every moment. But what got him the most was that, in the end, you died. Although he knew you were alive and well, he couldn't deny that it was what he believed for the longest time until you showed up the day before. All these thirty years, he couldn't believe you were dead. Bu then, you randomly show up, fully alive and cancer-free. Not only had it been overwhelming and emotional, but he had been so scared that it was all just a dream, and he would soon wake up to the reality in which you were dead.

Eventually, his ink dried back up and became sticky, yet damp, like usual. Once restored, he immediately rose and silently rushed over to your door. He quickly opened it, yet made sure to keep quiet. Bendy slowly approached your sleeping form, freaking out internally for a second when he didn't see your chest rise nor fall. Luckily, your breathing was just really slow. He let out the "breath" he didn't know he was holding in relief.

He looked over you at the side of your bed, looking down at you. He still couldn't believe you weren't dead. He was just so happy you were alive, but also so sad that you had went through so much and he couldn't help at all. Bendy was so overwhelmed that he swore, for the first time in quite a while, he believed he could've cried.

~~~~~~~~

You felt something strange and slightly cold hit your cheek while you were sleeping, which sent a message through your nerves and woke you up fairly quickly. Eyes now open, you gasped, startled to see Bendy standing right there. Panting from a quick burst of panic, you held your hand over your heart and quickly calmed yourself.

You looked up at Bendy and saw him quivering. Placing your finger on your cheek, you felt the wet spot, expecting to see black remnants of wet ink of your finger, but nothing was there. It was clear; it looked like water. "No, it can't be!" You thought, snapping your head up to look at the devil.

Indeed, streaming down his face, were tears. Not ink droplets, physical tears. Most of them weren't even stained by the ink!

"Oh my god...." You whispered in shock. "Bendy, what's wrong? You're crying!" You pointed out in despair.

He didn't move or do anything. He didn't respond with a gesture or anything. "Bendy? Bendy!" You called out his name, grabbing his arm and squeezing it whilst giving it a firm shake to try and break him from his trance. "What's wrong!?"

You were about to continue pleading and begging to get him to respond or answer in some way, but you were stopped. What happened next was so abrupt and astounding. Bendy, the huge demon of ink who finally revealed emotions as he cried, had suddenly pulled you into a slightly sticky, and nearly bone-crushing, hug.