Bendy and the ink machine one shots and headcannons

Lizzie's advice

I hummed to myself as I wandered down to my department, my Violin case in hand. I was very proud of my instrument, having saved all my teenage years for it, and it being the only thing I had growing up. It's redwood body, thin, steel strings and velvety red casing. It was just all so beautiful. I hummed softly as I wandered down the stairs, and into the department. I clocked in quickly with my time card, and headed over to the auditorium. On my way, I passed Susie, who voiced the character 'Alice Angel' in the Bendy cartoons. Heh, it's funny. Although I play the main instrument in the orchestra, Sammy- the director- has told me that with my soft voice, I could make it into the voice acting industry. I'd never have the confidence for that, of course. I compensate for my terrible voice with how seductive and Lewd I act. I have to find some way to distract from it, after all.

I set my case down, taking out the instrument. I pulled the bow out as well, lightly running my fingers over its blonde strings. I truly did love how it's sound shuddered and made my skin crawl every time it's sound met my ears. It was truly therapeutic for me. Of course, I'd never tell anyone else this information, they'd see me a fool. Oh well, to each their own madness, I suppose.

I set my chin on the piece of smooth wood at the end of the instrument, before pulling the blonde hair of the bow across the silver steel of the violin, creating the beautiful sounds of a few notes. A rare smile graced my face as I continued to play my instrument, slightly gliding around the empty room as I did so. I began to play the melody to a song I had once heard, pulling and sliding the bow across the strings to create the friction that brought me my peace of music. The tempo of the song was soft, being something you could slow dance too, given the chance. I began to softly hum the tune I was swaying too, getting lost in the music and just letting it flow within me. It was like a river, that flowed within me, winding and flowing down elegant streams, and over waterfalls that caught light in the warm sun. It put me in a beautiful place.

When the song had come to its end, I sat my instrument down on its case, running a hand through my hair as I remained in a warm and soft state. It was like therapy to me, playing the violin. I was about to grab out my sheet music, when an all to familiar voice called from the doorway of the auditorium. "Lizzie? Do you have a moment?" Sammy's voice spoke, I looked up at him, a small smile still etched on my warm face. "Yes, dear?" I called. He came into the room, a stressed look on his pale and scruffy face. I only smiled, beckoning him over. He took a seat in one of the spare chairs, sighing. "I'm having some trouble with the piece that Joey wants me to write. It has to be a slow, soft ballad and hell KNOWS I can't write those".

—-3rd POV—-

The ginger stood, wandering behind the disgruntled man, placing her hands on both his shoulders, and her thumbs on his neck. She began to slowly apply pressure, rubbing methodic circles in his neck and upper back. She could feel his muscles begin to loosen, and unfold. She was applying pressure where she felt muscle build up, releasing the tension that had been rising within his body. "I can tell you're stressed, darling. Your shoulders feel like they have meatballs shoved in them" She muttered to him, in her rich and soothing voice. To Sammy, her voice was the equivalent of a warm spring day. He loved it so much, it sounded like the feeling of soft butter. Satisfying, and warm to the touch.

The woman began to hum the soft tune she had been playing moments prior, continuing to massage Sammy's neck and back. "To help with your Ballad" she piped up after a moment, moving a loose curly strand of ginger hair out of her face. "Think of the feelings you gain in moments of true passion. Say, when you first discovered your love for the art of music, think back to the emotions you felt. Channel those emotions into a song, one that can put your listeners into a trance, make them forget who they are for a moment" she explained, finally working the last kink out of Sammy's neck. He stood, stretching his arms into the air, popping his shoulders. "That really helped, Lizzie. Thanks" he said, exiting the auditorium. Lizzie was left to question, was it the massage that helped? Or the advice?

She didn't get much time to think on the matter, before the rest of the band started arriving. Greeting them, she took her seat my her violin, ready to practice the piece for the recording deadline the next day.