Chapter Text
People always liked to preach about the things they would do in extreme situations. Spouting hypothetical scenarios and weaving untrue tales of how they would valiantly survive. Running their mouths about the lengths their efforts would reach to build a new life of comfort. How they'd support either themselves or their family. What they would do with that one object they had been allowed to bring with them to an abandoned island, void of any other living soul, they had stranded on.
They all crumble in the end, throwing any vows sworn into the biting winds, as hell rose to life beneath their feet.
You had arrived at your parents’ home for less than a day. The few belongings you brought for the trip, still resting in their bags, when the live broadcasts came on – telling about horrors beyond the expectations of this world. Of events one could only dream of stemming from a movie or book. You could only stare in disbelief, rooted to your spot, as your mother consoled you for the ‘loss of your lover’.
In but a night, New York had fallen. Maybe even in less than that. Nobody really knew. Authorities were only alerted when a sea, darker than the abyss, started consuming surrounding regions. Tearing through acres of forest and swallowing homes whole, as if they were nonexistent. Millions of people dead, just like that. Attempts of covering the incident were made, but ultimately failed. How could it not, with how rapidly it spread? Sparing neither old nor young, it took without mercy.
True panic however only descended upon the nations, when the Eaters arose. Ghastly beings born of inky tar- howling with voices of hollow caverns, as they clamored and grasped for anything living. Their wide mouths hanging obscenely open in the pictures the media managed to catch, as if gasping vainly for air. Or like a bear would standing in a stream, waiting for fish to jump right into its maw. Their bodies glistening with a profane beauty under the sun and moons light. Some more human in shape than others.
When the military arrived, everyone had been cheering for them. A large part of the masses had assumed everything would be over and back to normal soon. For this to be a horrifying, but nothing more than a brief event in history. Presuming the hordes of shambling monsters would crumble under the mighty firepower of the United States of America.
Including the troupes sent out to deal with them. Bragging how a good shot in the head will be plenty enough to get rid of those so-called ‘freaks’ and resolve these pesky issues. Many making bets with their comrades about how many they would be able to kill and seeing it as a chance to receive some easy badges.
And in their folly, their ears remained deaf to the smaller folks’ pleas to listen to them. To hear out those which managed to escape and remained sane enough to tell the tale firsthand. That their firearms would barely have any effect on the beasts wearing the skin of their former loved ones. How they will return back to life from the dark waters in less than an hours’ time if you manage to put one down. How they accepted anyone living who fell in battle, into their ranks with open arms. Telling harrowed stories, how the creatures yowled hauntingly with voices of dead family members. They begged to immediately come equipped with higher firepower, to drop bombs if necessary. To just burn it all to the ground until not a single drop remained.
And while the militia in all their arrogance had been able to slow the progress of the, at this point still yet unknown, dark fluid and its inhabitants, their arrogance and dithering costed them greatly.
With bated breath the world was glued to their television screens. Following with rapt attention the course the cataclysm took and waiting for its outcome. Any self-assured confidence shattered and replaced with hope for a happy end. Wondering when they would awake from this living nightmare that had descended upon these lands. Praying to the skies above for anything to listen to their prayers and not let them be next in line to fall victim, for there was nothing left to do but to pray.
When the first bomber planes flew and their attacks bore fruit, it seemed as if the worlds prayers were finally answered. The previously unyielding black ooze, dispersed and caved under the explosions. Eaters were destroyed in masses and unable to rise in the wake of their life-giving substance’s absence. Confidence and triumph filled everyone’s hearts. Families and strangers alike, friend and foe hugging one another and breathing a collective sigh of relief. After months, the tides of battle had finally turned.
You remembered in vivid detail the cheers echoing throughout your parents’ home from different family members as the broadcast’s camera zoomed in on the carnage left behind. The reporter droning on about what a great step towards victory for the all of humanity, but especially USA’s own forces, this has been.
Until from the chaos and resplendent earthly gore of war, a creature surfaced. As magnificent in its form as it was terrifying. Celebrations transformed into gasps of horror as people watched live a new living nightmare descend upon this plane of existence. Its mere presence enough to strike true fear into the bravest of hearts. Shadowing whole fields, as if the light of the sun itself was too afraid to even graze it in fear its rays would draw the being’s attention.
There was no mercy to be found from that point on, whenever the beast arrived on the battlefield in all its dreadful glory. Survivors were but a whispered myth, as most immediately turned the barrel of their gun on themselves at the sight alone. Pilots crashed their aircrafts. Their human minds breaking when beholding something which was never meant to be witnessed. Bombs exploding before they could ever even leave the planes…
The church was quick to cry that Satan had come to punish the sinners. Hell had risen from its fiery depths to strike all who are not children of God. Gathering their flock and amassing them to an even greater size than ever before. Telling people to shed all of their belongings to them – that this was the only way for salvation. To be and live humble and pray to the almighty lord above.
Except that the risen Devil did not care whether someone kneeled humbly and prayed beneath his hoofed feet. Nor did the promises of God, the almighty father above, arriving soon to help come true. For weeks on end they prayed and for weeks they were wronged. No angelic warriors in shining armor came from the heavens to aid. There was no grand sign of God striking down the evil, which had befallen this world.
And so people split from the church once more – seeking now revenge instead of guidance against its priests and deacons before the approaching cataclysmic disaster could ever get a chance to touch them.
Many more names and titles for the unknown Terror were to follow soon after. Alien, mutated man, Necromancer … Of all the names it was titled with, there was only one all who managed to survive an encounter were able to settle on: Death.
No one knew who or what it was. Except for you. No matter how shrouded in living shadows or grimy all caught footage was, you immediately recognized Bendy. Saw the dark ooze, which swallowed the lands, as the ink it was, before anyone else did. And yet you could not bring yourself to give voice to your knowledge. How would you even start to explain without being either blamed by the mob for this whole situation or pronounced insane? The first scenario being the most likely to occur. People would gladly lynch you as a scapegoat for all their grievances.
The ink blossom, gifted by Bendy, was a taunting weight in your pockets at all times. You caught yourself on more than one occasion caressing its soft petals and tracing its edges between your fingers, subconsciously, while watching the news with your distraught family. Uncertainty and guilt gnawing at your mind. A few months ago, you would have broken it without hesitation to go and talk to him. However, those same months before you also would’ve never thought he would start a genocide. One of this level none the less.
Would he even hear you out? No, even more importantly, would you remain unharmed? While the Ink Demon had confessed being with you makes him happy, on the other hand he clearly also gains great joy out of eating people. It was not an unlikely case that consuming you might be on the table again.
You truly were unable to gauge where you were standing with him right now and what your odds of survival were. It terrified you.
So you remained indecisive. Hoping for the problem to go away on its own, even if it meant losing him. You tried to ignore how much the mere thought ached in your heart. Burning like a searing pain, while the blood in your veins felt frozen.
Surprise, surprise, the problem did not disappear on its own. And while everyone mourned, you felt a heavy stone in your stomach for only feeling relief that he was alive and well.
It may have been early into the invasion when the dark fluid was declared to be ink, but the true extend of its dangers remained unknown until it had been too late. There was a brief moment where the forces managed to keep the monsters at bay, some even able to start regaining parts of land once again with the absence of the Ink Demon from the war grounds. Hope filled people’s hearts once more. Rumors spread of the Great Evil having crawled back into whatever hole from hell it had sprung from, when weeks passed without a single sighting.
Others whispered that the Devil must be playing a sick game of cat and mouse. Waiting for them to lower their guards. Letting people regain their hope on purpose. Dangling a light in the midst of an unending abyss, in order to make the next assaulting wave all the more savory. To abundantly revel in their renewed agony after weeks of feeling safe.
And they were right. To a degree. In all their guesses and assumptions, no one would have ever expected the enemy to suddenly spring forth in the middle of all their camps. Gathering the ink used from different reports, books and the likes to crawl out of scrawled letters like a horror movie come to life. Decimating hundreds of stations at once and regaining all lost land in the matter of a night.
This event marked the start of a new era. In all the renewed panic and chaos, a slew of laws were promptly implemented. Most surrounding the use and import as well as export of ink. The substance became heavily restricted, if not even outright banned in certain parts. Breaking the new law could get one charged for conspiracy with the enemy.
Just like that, a previously commonly used item, turned into something more illegal than drugs in less in than the blink of an eye. All to prevent the spread of Deaths influence.
Other laws included the prohibition of bringing back the bodies of any allies fallen in battle, for they would just join the Ink Demons forces anyway. Stained clothing must be disposed far away from any shelters. Humanity had already found out the hard way that it only served to spread His influence further and cleaning was not worth risking the lives of hundreds if not thousands.
It was when half of the east coast had been consumed that your father got called away back to war once more. It's only been a bit over 20 years since the last time he had to go and no matter how hard you tried, you could not console the bitter tears your mother cried, whilst praying for her husband to come back home safe. To return to his family’s side well and alive and cursing out the calamity which had befallen this country in the same breath. And it was then you grasped the flower you kept meticulously hidden in your pockets- finally making up your mind.
You knew it was selfish to only have made that decision once it affected your personal life. But it had already been selfish of you back then to accept the deal with the Ink Demon in the first place. You were no great, righteous hero with a profound sense for justice like in books. Nor a heroine that always knew what to say or do. Hell, a good chunk of the time you probably weren’t even the best person in general to be around with. You were a journalist that stayed in a town for a time to report on a serial killer in hopes to climb the ladder.
A fact, which in hindsight was probably another major factor of what had drawn you to Bendy all this time ago in the first place. There was no need for you to pretend being someone you weren’t. To try and be perfect and care about every tragedy, when you didn’t. You were both horrible and terribly faulted beings each in your own way – him far more than you- but if selfishness was what got you into all this trouble in the first place, it will get you out of it again too.
That night you put your inconsolable mother to bed. You held her wrinkled hand longer than necessary in yours, more so for your own comfort than hers. “Hopefully the war will soon stop and he will return back to your side”, you whispered soothingly by her bedside, while saying your goodbyes mentally. No matter how your meeting with Bendy would end, there was a low chance of you being able to return. Either you would be dead or shunned as a traitor.
“This is no war, child. Nor is it a battle. I and your father have seen war. This is a one-sided slaughter with one clear winner. I bear no delusions”, she retorted bitter, her hand gripping yours tightly. You hesitated for a moment before speaking up again.
“If the Devil were to propose peace talks … do you think our government would accept?”, you asked tentatively. In the low light of the room, you were unable to make out her facial expression, but the incredulous scoff you received was more than enough to glean her emotion.
“They better be open for negotiations. If they’d have half a mind, they would have already proposed it themselves. But the fools are stubborn. And it will remain that way I’m afraid. The winning side is usually not the one to bend first and request peace in these matters.”
“I see”, you murmured and slowly let go of her hand again “I’m sorry for bringing it up. I know how much the topic upsets you. I will go and let you sleep now. Please try to find some rest.”
“It is quite alright. There isn’t much else to discuss currently after all”, she sighed defeated. You heard the rustle of fabric as she pulled her blanket higher. “Have a good night, dear. I love you.”
Something constricted in your throat. “I love you too.”
Hurriedly, you stood up from the old wooden stool, trying not to groan from the pop in your back and headed for the door. Throwing one last glance at your mother, you slowly shut it with a deep breath. Don’t tear up. You had to stable yourself. Now was not the time to have second thoughts and let doubt take a hold of you.
With a deep breath, you went to the kitchen. The following mess would be easiest to clean up on tiled floor after all and your brief note was guaranteed to be found in the morning on the counter. You tried to keep your sentences short and without giving too much away. Just a few words about leaving for a while and hopefully being able to fix some things with a mandatory ‘love you’ added at the end.
The flowers ink shone captivatingly under the shine of the moon as you cradled it in your palm. This was it, there was no going back. Your fingers closed around the gift once meant for your ironic protection against the abductions. It all seemed like a lifetime ago.
The gift broke with easy when you squeezed. Its inky petals giving way instantly, flowing between the gaps of your fingers and down your arm in a soft caress. Curling and winding sinuously around the limb, as if it had a mind of its own. And perhaps it did, holding the same affections its master held for you. Tracing as much of your skin as possible, before being forced by gravity to drip down onto the tiles with a wet sound.
A calm overcame you at the familiar feel of ink embracing your form. Crawling up your bare feet from where it rapidly spread on the floor from mere drops. Its cool and yet warm touch was just like you remembered it and you quickly blinked away the tears forming in your eyes. You hadn’t realized how much you had missed it. And the ink, it seemed, you in turn too. For the pull into its dark depths was slow and welcoming, holding your body protectively, unlike the first time when you had fallen. There was no sensation of drowning, no rising panic and fear of death. Just the knowledge that you were save in your lover’s grasp.
You were no longer in your parents’ kitchen when you opened your eyes. Impossibly tall pillars surrounded you, intricate in shape and their appearance as if pulled straight out of a drawing. They lined a long hallway and stretched beyond into the room. If you could even call it a room that is, with its ceiling up so high and walls so far away you wondered if they even existed. Ink, alive and still at once, flowed in graceful arches like rivulets to form alive paintings on the marble floors and pillars. Ever changing from one piece of art to another. Some other playing out whole soundless movies of their own design. You watched them in fascination, mesmerized by how surreal it all seemed.
“Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful”, you answered automatically, momentarily forgetting the whole reason of why you had come here in the first place. About the anger you were meant to hold.
Large, black hands curled around you, careful as to not hurt you on accident, before lifting you up. Ink and bone pressed against your torso, as a massive head nuzzled you in welcome. A deep familiar fathomless rumble shook both you and the surrounding area. You felt his maw part against your stomach and heard the following eager inhale of your scent.
“I was hoping you would think so” he rumbled pleased, his voice still gurgling like endless caverns but somehow less strained. It was more even – steady.
Involuntarily, a soft smile found its way onto your features, and you reached a hand out to stroke along the curve of his horns. Without hesitation the Ink Demon leaned into the touch, bending his head for you to be able to reach their whole length.
You wondered if it simply was an effect from the long absence and you were simply misremembering them, but somehow they seemed larger than before. Elongated and imposing. The same counted for the spines lining his back. How curious…
“Could you set me down again?”, you asked, gently pushing against his massive maw nibbling you in affection. He seemed to think about your request, clearly not quite entertaining the thought of letting you go so soon again.
“So I can get a good look at you”, you elaborated, which apparently was a satisfactory enough explanation for him. Solid ground met your feet once more and you took a few steps back to regard him fully.
You hadn’t gone crazy after all. He had become taller, holding himself in an upright and, in a way, regal manner. His back straight and shoulders drawn back instead of his usual hunched posture. Another notable change was the mass he had gained. While still emaciated and skeletal in appearance, the Ink Demons chest was clearly broader than before. Musculature lining his ribs and the previously protruding bone of his pelvis and femur. It would make sitting on him definitely be less uncomfortable from now on.
He looked powerful. More confident than ever before in a way that demanded authority at just a glance. Almost healthy even, if you dared say. You never thought he could become more attractive, yet here you were. And all of that for the cheap price of millions of souls.
You watched him shift his weight, his fingers twitching as if itching to pick you up again and noticed that his bovine hooves had split in a manner similar to that of a Caribous.
“Not that I don’t enjoy your attention, but you may inspect me later in further detail, my dear. We should talk first. Come.”
“I agree… wait, dear?” You were thrown for a loop at the sudden endearment, following alongside him as he started to lead you down the long hallway. There were no traces of his slow, hunkering gait left. He walked in firm strides, which you felt were languid on purpose in order for you to be able to keep up with him.
“Is it not to your liking? We can settle for another, if that is your wish”, he pondered, tilting his head down at you. “I am also rather fond of my Sweet or Sweeting. They are fitting descriptors of you.”
“No, no. It is fine. I’m just surprised where that’s coming from all of a sudden”, you nearly stuttered, feeling the rising heat in your face intensifying. It was hard to tell whether he was purposefully trying to butter you up or fully serious. On one hand he had never directly lied to you before. On the other he also hadn’t slaughtered whole states before. Either way, it was definitely working and you weren’t quite sure how to feel about that. What a traitorous harlot Love could be.
“Fully entering this world allowed me access to all of its resources graced by the dark puddles in one way or another. Including books. You are my paramour and thus it only seems appropriate to address you in a manner befitting.”
You nearly stumbled up a small set of stairs from surprise. A bony hand caught you, before simply picking you up in its large palm. Cradling you against his chest like you were the most precious and fragile porcelain art piece in the world. If you weren’t red in the face before, you were sure you matched a ripe tomato by now.
“I see… would you like one in return as well?”, you managed to squeeze out. Throat suddenly feeling far too tight as if your racing heart was trying to jump out of it and clogging up your airways in turn.
“I would not be opposed to it”, he purred pleased, briefly nuzzling you. His feet taking far larger strides now that you were no longer walking next to him, confirming your thoughts, and bridging far more distance towards whatever destination he had in mind.
“I will think about it then.” Depending on how the talk with him goes, that is.
A doorway made of pure ink came shortly afterwards into view, made of flowing and solid ink all at once not much unlike your flower. Just when the two of you reached the threshold, an unfamiliar voice called out, distinctively male and light.
“My Lord!” excited, hasty footsteps approached you both, causing Bendy to halt and you to crane your neck to catch sight of the stranger. And you almost wished you hadn’t. Barely suppressing the urge to flinch away from the Eater adorned with a cartoonish Bendy mask, you pressed closer against the Ink Demons chest for protection. Sensing your unease, his thumb rubbed soothingly down your side. Silently assuring you safety.
The monster came to a halt next to the Grinning Devil, somewhat out of breath from running. “I, your humble shepperd, greet your return, o’ almighty Lord of the Dark Puddles!” You watched dumbly as it bowed deeply, nearly falling over itself. How could it be? The Eaters are said to be mindless things. More akin to zombies from movies than anything else. Yet here one was right infront of your very own eyes. Rambling ecstatically on about how honored he would be to attend to his Lords every needs, how glad he is for his safe return. And … something about a flock of sheep …?
Your shoulders relaxed, now more confused than scared, and you turned as best as you could in the palm holding you, to get a better and proper look. The movement seemed to have caught the mans? attention and take notice of your presence.
“Good Heavens! I didn’t realize your highness was entertaining a guest! Please I beg for you to forgive this fool. Wait is that… could it be!?”, he gasped audibly, his hands flying up to clasp comically over the masks mouth, before whisper-yelling “Is that her??” You felt the Ink Demon twitch in annoyance.
“Yes. You are dismissed. I will summon you should there be something needed”, he tersely responded, before leaning slightly back to look with non-existent eyes down at you. “Unless you wish for food and drink, my dear.”
You blinked surprised, not having expected to suddenly be put on the spot like that.
“No thank you? Maybe later in the morning?”, you more questioned rather than declined, which seemed good enough for the sane Eater. He looked more excited about it than anything as he bowed.
“Her Ladies wish shall be my command. I shall depart now and bid you both a pleasant night.” He declared, before slinking off into the shadows of this surreal place once more. Not even a second later the Devil was moving again, walking with you through the solid door made of ink as if it was not there.
Nothing could have prepared you of the room which waited behind. You had expected to see the same luxury you had witnessed in the rest of the building, especially after a glimpse of an impressive throne room you had managed to catch in passing. There was barely a pompous trace to be found in, what you assumed to be, his personal bedchambers.
While spacious, it was clearly meant for comfort rather than something to show off. Countless pillows and blankets filled part of the room, forming a big and wide pile of coziness. In a corner you spotted neatly stacked rows of film reels and following along the wall some generic furniture, looking a suspicious lot like the wardrobes and dressers you had owned in New York.
You would worry about that later.
“Who was that?”, you asked, carefully sliding out of his hand to take a seat at a table, which also looked suspiciously like yours.
“Sammy”, he growled, squatting down on the opposite side of you to be of somewhat same eye height (it wasn’t even close) instead of using the chair. “He is useful, but his worship more often than not an annoyance. Do not hesitate to send him away, should he pester you. But no more talk of him. I am glad you are finally here. I was starting to wonder when you would arrive.”
“I am honestly surprised you haven’t come in person to fetch me yourself”, you confessed. It had been a worry often lingering on your mind.
“I promised at your departure to wait for you here, so you may enjoy your time with your creators. And I kept it. Just as I did for there to no longer be the taxes, which gruelled you so. As well as me rising into a position of power your creators would not shun me for”, he answered, clearly pleased with himself about the later especially. You could only stare at him somewhat incredulous. Was this a joke to him?
“Now, what do you think of my kingdom thus far? A fitting size for a ruler, isn’t it?”
You could not hold back any longer. “You can’t possibly be fucking serious.”
He flinched in response, not having expected your harsh tone.
Spines pressed flat against his body and with his head ducked, the Ink Demon asked: “Is it not of satisfactory size to you? I observed you on multiple occasions watch the progress in my conquest and assumed that your arrival now meant it is impressive enough for your liking.”
“I … what!? What makes you believe..?” You were speechless. It was in that horrific moment you realized he truly did not see anything wrong with his actions. Looking instead more like a dog awaiting praise for fetching a big stick with the way he gazed at you.
“Bendy I did not come earlier because I was afraid! You were slaughtering whole states en masse! Can’t you see how wrong all of this is?”, you cried, trying to explain. He looked at you in an almost startled manner, before his spines slowly started to bristle, rising in tandem with his head to challenge your claim.
“I did not. They are alive as my subjects and citizens of the Dark Puddles!”, he snarled, slightly leaning his massive parted maw towards you. You did not shrink away and kept your chin up in defiance.
“Oh please. You dare call the mindless state of these monsters alive? That is no life. They might as well be dead beneath the earth”, you scoffed, crossing your arms.
There was a pause. His head tilting and spikes lowering slightly from their threatening display. And then he just … stared. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking and started to sweat as the uncomfortable silence dragged on. His void gaze boring straight into your soul.
“Mindless monsters…? Is that what you perceive me as?” his rumbling voice was so low and quiet in comparison to his previous outrage, that it sent a cold shiver down your back. His presence around you thickened and it seemed as if the very walls of the room were trying to escape his scorn. Shaking and looking further and further away with each passing second, like some form of optical illusion.
“You know that’s not what I think of you, so don’t even start with that”, you scowled at him, remaining steadfast in your seat even when human logic told you to run. But fleeing now wouldn’t solve anything. Whether you were consumed or left, it would all be same for the world.
“Then why shy away from Sammy, if not assuming he was nothing more than a ravaging beast?”, Bendy challenged, watching your every move and expression intently.
“Because those weird ink things are attacking people and razing homes to the ground!”, you cried, trying to make him see your point.
“They were defending and themselves against constant assaults from the first moment they are reborn! Titled monsters before they can even take their first breath!”
“People attacked because they were scared! God damn it Bendy, you are taking away their property and anything they ever held dear!”
“AND MINE ARE NOT!?”, he bellowed, shaking the foundation of the building you were in. Your hands had flown up to your ears to protect them from his booming voice. Taking a deep breath he continued, volume at a tolerable level again. “These lands you claim those people ‘own’ are ones taken by force hundreds of years ago from those who originally inhabited it, in order to pave a path for a new civilization. I am simply returning the favor and doing the same for my subjects. Except that I allow all of those writhing maggots a second chance for a new and better life instead of leaving them dead to rot. Would you like to take a wager of how many humans attempted to negotiate with me to spare them or for peace BEFORE they emptied their whole magazines in me or any of my ink folk thus far? None. It is only after they are all out of bullets, that they cowered and beg. Willing to trade whatever it would take, even their own wives and young children” he spat out in pure disgust and with such profound distain you only had ever heard him talk in when the topic was about Joey Drew.
“You may be my paramour, but I will not tolerate such behavior nor slander”, he hissed at last. And with that he got up in one quick motion, clearly done with the conversation. “I will send for someone to guide you to the guestroom. Maybe seeing and talking to them for yourself will change those beliefs human society planted in you”, he added sourly and was gone faster than your eyes could perceive and with your mouth half-open to retort something.
You took a deep breath and fell back in your chair, throwing an arm over your eyes. Don’t cry. Now was not the time to crumble. Deep breaths. Inhale, hold – count down- exhale. You were fine. This was fine. Some brief space would do the both of you good to let tempers cool down. It wasn’t over yet. You hadn’t failed. Repeat. Inhale, hold, exhale. You were fine. He won’t hurt you, otherwise he already would have. He had called you his paramour and would not send you away. Repeat.
A knock outside made you bolt up in your seat straight. You had no idea for how long you had been sitting in that chair after he left. A soft and feminine voice called out to you from behind the black mass: “My Lady? Would you please come outside? I am not able to go past this barrier barring me from entry.”
“I am coming”, you managed to call back, proud that your voice sounded more firm than you currently felt.
An inkperson clothed in a simple white-ish dress awaited you behind the entrance. “A wonderful night to you, my Lady. I am Madeleine and will serve you tonight”, she introduced herself with a polite waist-deep bow. Feeling uncomfortable but forcing a smile onto your face, you introduced yourself back. You were not quite used to, not only, be around sane (hopefully) Eaters, but also being treated like you were some type of royalty. Like … you knew Bendy ruled over all of them and had addressed you as his paramour – a fact still making your stomach flutter at the thought even in all your distress- but it was still such a rapid and extreme change to what you were used to.
You expected and hoped for her to take the lead and bring you immediately to the guest room. To lessen the time of interaction. Instead she stood still, shuffling her feet with her face lowered. Her hands clasped infront of herself, playing with the folds of her dress’ skirt.
“Is something the matter?”, you asked unsure, awareness at high alert and eying her warily. Images of inky limbs grasping at screaming people trying to flee surfacing in your mind. Of all those too slow, being inhaled by the endless dark and forced to horrifically drown.
“No, it’s just … I just wanted to say it is an honor to finally meet you in person and even more so to be able to serve you. Our Lord has spoken so often of you we all couldn’t wait for your arrival”, she confessed with a little awkward laugh, taking you aback. You slowly forced yourself to relax, regarding her anew. There was no hostility in his posture, only a genuine joy.
“He… He has?”, you asked uncertain
“Yes of course! You are his most beloved after all! Ah, but not to fret, he only spoke highly and with the highest praise of you, my Lady” the servant practically gushed. You expected a lot, but not those words in that specific order. Had he really told other of you as his ‘most beloved’ or were those her words?
Your hurt fluttered annoyingly in your chest with warmth.
“Uhm, thank you? The pleasure is all mine”, you responded in instead, not quite sure how to feel about any of this. But it seemed enough for her all the same, just like with Sammy earlier, for she started to usher for you to follow her. Prattling excitedly on about how she can’t wait to tell the others of your arrival in the kingdom, what a great future awaits all of them. You listened, making sometimes a sound of confirmation to show you were paying attention.
At some point the both of you came across another servant somewhere along the way. Far too formal greetings were exchanged, and Madeleine briefly chatted with them while you stood on the side.
You couldn’t help but notice how normal it felt. Two coworker friends having a quick exchange of information while on the go, along with some friendly banter. Laughing as they wished their goodbyes and promising to see each other later.
It was not hard to see your previous opinions of ink folk being wrong and your weariness around the people here unnecessary. However it did not excuse the endless cycle both parties at the front lines found themselves in, being afraid of one another and constantly attacking. Would you need to apologize to Bendy? Absolutely. You have enough insight to recognize what you said was deeply hurtful and not acceptable. Did it change your opinions of wanting peace? No. The war needed to be stopped in order for there to be no soul to live in terror any longer. Well, or to at least get the ball rolling for acceptance of each other. You feared xenophobia would always lurk in some corner, ready to rear its ugly head of prejudice.
For the rest of the walk you attempted genuine smalltalk, which seemed to delight Madeleine. Parts of the reason to return her kindness thus far and the other to gauge how much of her own person she was.
To which the answer was fully as it turned out. She had two younger brothers, liked music and to practice archery in her freetime, which caused her to become estranged from her father.
“Unlady like behavior he had called it. Prick.” You nodded sympathetically next to her as she guided you down impressive hallways to the ‘East Wing’ of the residence.
Not diving too deep into her personal affairs, no matter how curious you were -you blamed the journalist in you or that-, you instead asked further questions about archery. What had led her to pick up a curious hobby like that? For how lang had she been doing it? What she liked most about it, what least…
Overall, Madeleine was quite pleasant company to be with and you regret ever having thought ill of her.
Coming to a stop infront of door drawn on a wall, she opened it for you with an elegant bow.
“Your Guest Room, my Lady. Would you like for me to bring you a late breakfast in the morning?”
“I would appreciate that, yes”, you smiled at her. “However, I’m afraid you might need to fight Sammy about it. Similar things were promised to him when I arrived.”
“I can take him in a fight. All I would need is permission”, she confidently stated, eliciting a chuckle from you.
“Maybe another time. But I will keep it in mind”, you declined and entered the room.
“As you wish my lady. Have a good rest.”
“Thank you, Madeleine.” The door was closed and you were alone. Immediately you went over to fall into the bed, not caring to take any of your clothes off as exhaustion came crashing down on you. Looking back, coming in the middle of the night maybe hadn’t been your finest idea. You felt unbelievably tired. Not just physically, but also mentally spent after your fight with Bendy.
You just hoped you would get a chance to talk to him tomorrow, as your heavy lids fell shut – ushering you into a deep slumber.
It was the feeling of the mattress dipping under the pressure of a familiar weight, which awoke you. Large, dark arms curled around your body from behind in a practiced motion, before pulling you back against a cool and inky chest. You sighed contend, turning in Bendys embrace to bury your face in the crook of his shoulder. As you had suspected, it was a lot more comfortable now with there actually being muscle tissue now.
“I like Madeleine. She is nice and funny”, you murmured half asleep, keeping your eyes shut.
“I shall assign her as your lady-in-waiting then” he rumbled low above you.
“Let me ask her if she would even want to. If you ask, she wouldn’t feel like she had a choice.”
“I would have ordered her, not asked. I am King after all.” You smiled faintly at that, hidden in his shoulder.
“I had a feeling you would say that”, you hummed in response, pulling the blanket blindly higher to cover you both. He shifted above you, his head nuzzled into your hair and inhaling deep. A pleased rumble, emitting from his chest, followed. Words could never describe how much you missed being with him like this.
“I am sorry for earlier. I didn’t know better at the time, but that doesn’t change nor excuse me having been wrong and saying those things.” Hearing your apology, he grasped you tighter.
“You are forgiven. I also regret my outburst”, came his quiet confession. You freed yourself from his tight grasp and leaned back to blindly press a kiss to his jaw. He instinctually pressed into the touch, rumbling for a brief moment louder.
“Then you shall also be forgiven, even if I never faulted you for it. You had every right to be angry.” The only response you received was a non-committal grunt and his maw rubbing against you. With a yawn, you settled back against his chest. Safely cocooned in his arms in the silence of the dark, you wished for this to never end.
It was when he shifted in a more comfortable position so he wouldn’t have problems with his spikes and horns to also go to sleep, that your whisper broke the comfortable silence: “Do you plan on ending the war?”
“Not in the foreseeable future, no.”
You hummed tired and thoughtful in response. “Why did you start it in the first place?”
“To escape the shackles placed upon me by Joey Drew. No longer am I restrained to the studio’s grounds. I am free and with me my kingdom. The cycle has been bent and reshaped into a mold of my own desire.”
Wrapping your arms around him to get more cozy, you asked: “Then why not stop? You already have what you wanted, no?”
“Because the forces have not once proposed peaceful negotiations.”
“I see…”, you mumbled against his skin. Too tired and comfortable to put up a fight and be upset right now. Not once in your life would you have thought to converse about such a serious topic during pillow talk. What a weird world you lived in. A wet heat trailed a path along your jaw – the Ink Demons show of a kiss.
“There might be a way for me to be swayed into proposing peace talks under a condition.” His breath was warm against your skin, and you felt yourself relax further in his hold.
“And that would be?”
“I would pursue a request made by my queen.”
The snort escaping you was both a mix of humor and incredulity. “Why are you so intent on taking my hand in marriage?”
“How could I not? You were the first to not look at me in fear. The first and only to ever regard me as a man instead of a god or mere beast. You indulged my curiosities because you wanted to. Showed me a life of possibilities beyond the jail Joey Drew had constructed. Even during my outburst earlier, you refused to cower and stayed strong.” He held you tighter, not leaving even an inch of space between your bodies. “The people here call me their Savior for freeing our kingdom and bending the cycle to obey new rules. And yet the true Savior was you all along, for you saved me first. That strength of yours is only one of many reasons why I love you. It would be foolish of me to not make you officially mine and grant you all the respect and fame you deserve.”
You were having a heart attack, you must be. There was a blazing heat unlike anything you ever felt inside of you before. A deep joy filling you to your very core. Hopes you had often quelled in the past, sprung forth in a delighted dance and changed their self into a being of truth. He loved you.
“I love you too”, you managed to squeeze out between tears, which were invisible against the ink. It was as if a heavy burden had been lifted of your chest, allowing you to breath for the first time. You were happy beyond all measure to finally be able to confess those words out loud.
“Can I presume that to be yes to my proposal then?”, he chuckled low, gently nuzzling your shaking form affectionately. You only managed a weak nod, sensing that your voice would probably fail you.
“Then I shall make you my consort”