An Inkwell's Stain //BATDR Fanfiction\\ [Male Reader]

Chapter One [Deadlines]

We are always free to choose. To believe what we want to believe. Journeys take all shapes, but when we are met with a decision to walk with angels or cower before demons... what would you decide? Again, the choice should be up to us. But what they never tell you is this: no matter how hard you try... no one can choose who they are in this world. So, as you wait for your life to take shape, for your body to catch up with you, don't delay. For your past will catch up to you eventually.

'Y/N?' Your mother's soft and beautifully sweet voice called you expectantly, causing your gaze to shift up to meet hers. 'Yes, ma?' You reply with a calm and collected smile to accompany it, as you close your notebook and slip the cold mechanical pen that was held tightly in your hand behind your ear.

Tonight, it was the same as most Friday nights. Your mother Audrey would be working late on a suppressing and strict deadline, while you sat and doodled in your notebook, giving the occasional helping hand for her to help with these rough nights.

As much as it seemed unfair that Arch Gate Pictures was doing this to her, they gave overtime for her troubles and were kind enough to allow her full access to the vending machines. But even with these few lucky privileges, life as an animator was difficult during these times. That is why you always chose to stay here with her to be of assistance, instead of waiting for her alone back at home.

'Oh Y/N, would you be a dear and get me my coffee? You know what I normally have.' You nod to her words and reply briskly, 'Cappuccino with an extra shot coming up!' before sprinting off with your notebook held in a firm grip. 'Be careful not to trip in your rush!' She called out to you, so you slowed slightly, only to start to speed up with the excitement of being able to do something after a couple of long hours.

You kept an even pace as your pants ruffled and swayed with your leg's movement, but you tripped on them every now and then. You continue on your merry way to the breakroom, your child-like imagination running wild. On your way however, a familiar face appears in front of you, causing you to stumble and fall flat on your face. When you let out a small groan from the impact and open your eyes to a squint, you see shiny leather shoes and a long pair of grey pants to accompany them. Letting your mind focus back to reality you finally noticed the raspy voice of the janitor who cleaned on weekdays.

'My, my, my... young man. Whatever are you doing to run in such a hurry, Y/N? You wouldn't want to worry your mother, would you?' He leaned down to lend you his bony, old hand to help you up, but you quickly regained and hoisted yourself up in an anxious state. A mixture of emotions was resonating and were most likely showing on your face. Embarrassment, for falling in front of someone you know, and discomfort, as you were in front of the creepy janitor Wilson, whom of which you and your mother weren't all too fond of. However, you quickly tried your hardest to obscure those feelings and replace it with a dashing grin.

'How do you do, sir? I was just going to grab my mother a cup of coffee. She's getting rather tired,' you stated with joy and enthusiasm, making Wilson's grin widen. 'Ah, Audrey. Another late night again, eh? And no need for formalities, boy... You may call me by my name.' His intense stare was enough to make your smile falter. 'Oh! Uhm, alright then... Wilson.' He nodded as if approving your speech, and then coughed into his arm. This action was sudden and made you flinch and cringe slightly. Thankfully, he didn't notice.

After his coughing fit, he turned to you and gave a sharp nod. 'Well, if you are only going to the breakroom, I suppose you'll be fine on your own. If you are in any trouble, just yell out. I'll hopefully hear you.' And with that, he left you in a confused state. An odd and very perplexing way to end a conversation, you thought, but there was no time to dwell on it. You continued on your way to the breakroom.

It was the same as ever in there. The cleanest, the most comfortable, and the most home-y area of the Art Department. Pillows were fluffed on the sofa, the air conditioner was on to battle against the searing heat of summer in the city, potted succulents decorated the entire room for more style, and the all-important coffee machine is standing tall on the table near where the cue sticks were held. You bounced gracefully over to it, quickly getting to work.

From a young age, your mother had taught you how to use a coffee machine to help her out. Nowadays it was almost as if second nature was taking control of your fingertips and they rapidly pressed the different settings and preferences. Finally, you let the coffee machine run and start the process of making the cappuccino.

The quiet of the night was overtaken by the sound of the machine whirring as it started to heat up the ingredients necessary. You let your mind wander as the machine worked, listening to the night and focusing on your breathing. A sudden clap of thunder made you jump, immediately escorting you out of your trance. You twisted around to look out the window and found that rain has now started to pour heavily with streaks of light erupting all throughout the sky.

The sudden change in atmosphere made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and a gulp of saliva travel down your dry throat. The coffee machine had already finished by the time you had remembered why you were here, and you quickly pocketed your notebook in your shirt pocket before leaning to grasp the hot drink. You started to feel uncomfortable as you walked slowly and with more care back to your mother's working space. The creak of the floorboard as you stepped made you flinch with every movement, air conditioner's hum throughout the studio started to drone louder as you started to sweat from stress.

Why were you suddenly anxious? Stop upsetting yourself, you said clearly in your mind, but it seemed like you weren't listening. In the corner of your eye, it felt like the poster of Bendy were staring into you with malicious intent, making you feel incredibly vulnerable. An idea came to mind as you stopped in your tracks. A smile crossed your lips, and then you started to hum.

You had been hearing the song "Lonely Angel" on the radios throughout the studio recently during the day, and it started to grow on you. You hummed the melody and kept walking, only subconsciously thinking of where you were going. You had already started to calm down, and before you knew it you were already back in your mother's room, and she was giving you a smirk. 'The song's growing on you, huh? Susie had a really good voice, didn't she? We were very lucky to find the old cassette tapes that had the audio saved on there.'

You nodded and passed the cappuccino over to her. Ma always talked about the workers from Joey Drew Studios, and the legacies they had left behind. It was surprising that you were even more intrigued than her. 'Life back then must have been so interesting... I mean with World War II happening and the sudden large number of women working there... Not that that's a bad thing of course!' You quickly recovered, and your mother laughed. 'I never thought you were implying that, dear.' You scratch the back of your head awkwardly. It was difficult to have these conversations without seeming like a bad guy, as you weren't a girl yourself.

'Anyway, uh... All the changes and having to pull through them must have been a lot of effort for Joey Drew himself.' You replied, taking a few steps back to adjust and look at the surroundings in the room as Ma sipped her coffee.

How long had you been around this place for? It had seemed like forever. Almost as if this was your home rather than the old flat down a few blocks. You turn back to your mother, but she is already back into sketching the next frame for the draft of the newest animation rolling out. Or at least the re-do of an old animation from Joey Drew Studios... 

Deciding not to interrupt her, you look back to the door. Only a few moments ago you were scared, but after conquering the scary halls, you had a nagging feeling of wanting to go back just for fun. A little adventure... Looking to your mother who was as distracted as she could be, you slowly edge your way out of the room to investigate more of the studio than you had ever explored before.

Excitement erupted within you. Finally, something different.