Batim Au - Blog Posts

Bendy Comic (16)

Day 16 of trying to convince @themeatly to let me be Bendy's voice actor because honestly I can't tell if I'm doing good right now, I'm sick 🤢😷

Art goes to their respective artists!

Bendy Comic (15)

Day 15 of trying to convince @themeatly to let me be Bendy's voice actor, because truly it would be an honor to make your acquaintance!

Art made by: squigglydigg

Bendy Comic (14) ⚠️ LOTS OF CUSSING ⚠️

Day 14 of trying to convince @themeatly to let me be Bendy's voice actor, so we can both be sand guardians.

Art work goes to the original artist, I do not claim the art!

Bendy Comic (13)

Day 13 of trying to convince @themeatly to let me be Bendy's voice actor because if need be, I will rush to get Boris his cookie

Art made by: @doodledrawsthings aka Hell's Studio

Bendy Comic (12)

Day 12 of trying to convince @themeatly to let me be Bendy's voice actor because rest assured I'm not going to lick his head. 🤨

Art by: squigglydigg

Bendy Needs a Cigarette 🚬

( this art is not mine it goes to its respective owner)

🎥 That 70s Show, season 1 episode 10

Bendy Comic (11)

Day 11 of trying to convince @themeatly to let me be Bendy's voice actor because I need a smoke break too. (Idk 😶)

Bendy Comic (10)

Day 10 of trying to convince @themeatly to let me be Bendy's voice actor, because let's face it I'm pretty sure I'm not going to look as stupid as that window

(Credit goes to whoever the artist is, please let me know so I can tag them!)

Bendy Comic (9)

Day 9 of trying to convince @themeatly to let me be Bendy's voice actor because if Joey is allowed to do this to Boris, then I should be allowed to try out for the part.

(if anyone knows who this comic is from please let me know)

Bendy Comic (8)

Day 8 of trying to convince @themeatly to let me be Bendy's voice actor, because while Bendy takes his mid-day snooze I will be awake doing this! (Okay but in all seriousness I'm running out of content, so if y'all have anything y'all want me to voice over with Bendy please let me know!)

Bendy Comic (7)

Day 7 of trying to convince @themeatly to let me be Bendy's voice actor, because if the little engine can fall in love then I can be his voice actor.

Bendy Comic (6)

Day 6 of trying to convince @themeatly to let me be Bendy's voice actor, because if I get to then I won't have to strike them with a prank joy buzzer 😉🫵🏻

Bendy Comic (5)

Day 5 of trying to convince @themeatly to let me be Bendy's voice actor because if Alice can rise on stage then I can rise to this position! (Sorry if the ending is a bit rushed I didn't take it off screenshots and I'm not going to redo it because it sounded too good to redo..😭😔)

Bendy Comic (4)

Day 4 of trying to convince @themeatly to let me be Bendy's voice actor. Because if Bendy can build a birdhouse then I can build up my skill set!

Bendy Comic (3)

Day 3 of trying to convince @themeatly to let me be Bendy's voice actor because let's be real I'm praying harder than Sammy Lawrence right now.

Bendy Comic (2)

Day 2 of trying to convince @themeatly to let me be Bendy's voice actor because I can shovel down more bacon soup than Henry can. Lol, Hope y'all enjoy!

Bendy Comic (1)

Day 1 of begging @themeatly to be his voice actor so I can die happy lol

Also I spent an hour doing these lines so RIP to my voice box..

Bendy does NOT like to be manhandled! Especially not by the likes of Alice! 🙅🏻

Comic made by: @askthedevilswing

Character made by: @themeatly

WHERE'S THE BUCKET SAMMY?! 🪣

I did both bendy and the "ink blob/searcher" !

Comic made by: @askthedevilswing

Character made by: @themeatly

Bendy Monster Transformation!

Please spare me some fresh agua I had to waste like half a water bottle during the edit 😞😭

Comic made by: @askthedevilswing

Character made by: @themeatly

My throat is dead I'm going to take a nap lol

Comics by: @theshawssperrs

They have a scrumptious profile that you should definitely check out! For some reason my mic decided to pick up the wind and I'm a little heated lol. Hope you enjoy!

Comic/Response made by: @askbendyandpals

Character made by: @themeatly

Be sure to check their stuff, they got some yummy art! 🫵🎨 Hope you enjoy!

Comic by @askthedevilswing

Sadly I ain't a dude but I got a scratchy voice so I guess it counts for something. 😭😂 Hope you enjoy these voiceovers! I can't get enough of the drawings they got me in a chokehold!

Character by @themeatly

GUYS LOOK AT WHAT MY FRIEND DREW!!! ISN'T THIS AWESOME!!

"You Killed Me."

as I mentioned in my reblog of @art-by-stella's wonderful fanart, here's my version of it. She mentioned to me on discord that she wanted to see me redraw this drawing specifically, so I did! it was a lot of fun!

Her version can be found here: https://www.tumblr.com/art-by-stella/776470356929183744/this-blog-seems-to-have-become-not-only-a-rp-blog?source=share

This was honestly one of my favourite scenes I had written for the fanfic!

YESSSS!!! THE BOYS LOOK FANTASTIC!!! What are you talking about? THIS LOOKS AWESOME! HUDSON LOOKS SO CUTE AND HEALTHY FOR ONCE WHATTTT

As an apology for not posting the third act yet, I have thiisss (It’s not that good and I drew it in class but-).

Act III is coming at some point, I’m in the editing stage! Just… bear with me-! > 3 •

[a gift for @unnoticedunawarestillhere? Yeah, you could call it that-]

THE TRAGIC SIBLINGS ARE THE BEST!!! POOR CHARLIE :(

Hudson just looks petty XD

THANK YOU FRIENDDDD <3

Tragic Sibling Duo

Featuring @unnoticedunawarestillhere 's oc Hudson! Charlie Forester's little brother figure in our crossover AU.

(The pose reference I used was by Mellon_Soup!)

"BUT THEY LOOK THE SAME!"

(Lol the comparison is the best)

Bill meets Bill (yes you read that right)

Featuring @unnoticedunawarestillhere 's version of Bill Danton (the guy on the left in the orange) meeting my version of Bill Danton (on the right with the Opossum under him)

YOU ARE SO MEAN IM CRYING AT HOW SAD THIS IS WHAT THE HECK. ARGH, CASSIDY YOU ARE THE BEST AND THE SWEETEST.

DAMN YOU ROBERT YOU POOR INNOCENT PURE MAN.

Give him back

This story takes place five days after Clifford Conway disappears into the cycle. It follows Robert Conway, Clifford's older brother trying to find out what happened to him. Very sad stuff!

I need to find him. I need to find my brother. He doesn’t just disappear like this. He should’ve come home, it’s been five days now. Sure one day he might have been at Florence’s house or something, but five days? No one just disappears like that. 

I must find him. Someone has to know him, they gotta know where my baby brother went. I need to find him. 

Mom and dad called me, telling me they need me to bring their son home, and that’s what brothers do, we stick to our promises. I must find him. I need to know what happened to him. 

I refuse to believe he’s dead. He can’t be dead. Calling the cops does nothing in this situation, they will look for only a day or so and then give up. I don’t want to risk it. I know my brother better than they ever could. 

I got out of my car, faster than usual. I didn’t care at this point. I needed to find my brother. I pushed the heavy door to the Gent building open, looking around for anyone to talk to. 

Sure enough, Florence was there at her desk, she looked a bit sad. I didn’t blame her. She was fond of Clifford. 

“Florence!” I said her name as I approached her desk, slightly out of breath because I was in a rush. 

She looked up at me, her eyes were full of sadness, I knew she knew something happened to Clifford.

“Robert? What are you doing here?” She asked, her voice wasn’t cheerful like it usually was. 

“I need your help, I need to find Clifford. He’s missing.”

“Missing? Like actually missing?” She sounded surprised. 

“Yes! I need you to help me find him! You have to help me, Florence.” 

I looked at her with pleading eyes. 

“I can see what I can do. I can’t shake the feeling something bad happened to him. He hasn’t come into work in days.”

“Nor has he come home.” I replied, glancing over at the door briefly. 

“I can see if some of the workers know where he last was.”

I followed her, we went out into the back, the place was a lot different, something felt weird about the place. I don’t know what it was, I couldn’t shake the feeling of something creeping up my spine the entire time. 

Florence asked around, most employees shook their heads. None of them knew where he was. Some had no idea who he was either. 

I felt horrible. 

“I’ll be right back. I’m gonna ask some other employees around, come back tomorrow if I don’t come back sooner, alright?” Florence said. She held out her keycard. I decided to walk around. 

Perhaps he’d be working overtime or something? No that’s stupid. He would have to have came home. 

I wandered around the building, trying my best to ignore the strange looks I kept getting from other employees. I thought 

Then I thought I saw him in the hallway, his jet black hair just like it used to look, slightly messy and fluffy. He turned to face me, a blank expression.

“It’s too late.” was all he said before he vanished. I felt a chill run down my spine. What does that mean? This place is making me go crazy isn’t it?

I suddenly noticed a hard hat on the ground, ink was dripping from a pipe above. 

I grabbed the hard hat, flipping it over to find a picture of Clifford and I taped inside it. 

I looked around the area, the ink puddle on the floor, the tools scattered. Some of the ink looked like it was smeared across the floor. 

“No…no no no.” I muttered. I held the hard hat close to my chest. 

I had to go back, maybe I could find something at the front desk. I couldn’t stand in this room anymore. Something felt horribly wrong. Why was I seeing things? That ink…it was scaring me.

I got out of there with the hard hat. I had to leave this place. I don’t know why but I had to leave. My brother was gone, I couldn’t keep searching. It just lead me in circles. 

I returned to the entrance. On Florence’s desk, I noticed something. A note, it had Clifford’s number on it with a heart drawn beside it. I grabbed the note. I knew my brother wasn’t coming back.

I didn’t want to believe it was true, but it was. I gave up hope. I stared at the picture, running my thumb over Clifford’s face. 

“I’m so sorry, Cliff.” I muttered. I was suddenly startled by a man with a black coat walking in. He was well dressed, but something was weird about him. 

It was like I was looking at death itself almost. 

“Are you waiting for someone?” He asked. I shook my head.

“No. Do you know a man by the name of Clifford Conway? He’s my brother. He has been missing for five days. He worked here and was last seen here.”

The man shook his head. I didn’t know it at the time but this was no random man, it was Alan Gray, CEO of Gent. I hate him with a burning passion. 

He took my brother from me, I blame him for my brother’s disappearance. 

“No. I do not know a Clifford Conway. Have you checked with the secretary?” 

“I did. She went to go find some other employees to talk to. She said I could come back tomorrow if she wasn’t back soon.”

“I hope you find your brother.” The man replied. He didn’t sound concerned at all. I watched him walk away as if my brother’s disappearance was a common thing that happened to Gent employees. 

I clenched my jaw a little. I started walking towards the door, and then out to my car. Time just seemes to stop when you find out a loved one is gone. 

I don’t know how to describe the feeling. It’s like someone took part of you and never gave it back. 

I sat in my car, placing Clifford’s hard hat and the note in the back seat. I didn’t want to look at it. It hurt too much to do so. 

I looked out the window of the Gent building, the place gave me an uneasy feeling, I had never felt that feeling before when I went there to visit Clifford. 

Was I going mad? Is that why I kept seeing my brother everywhere? I don’t believe in ghosts, I am not superstitious either, but I remembered hearing that when a person you love dies that you are close to, sometimes you can hallucinate them being there. It probably is one of the many reasons why people believe in ghosts. 

I don’t know if that’s what I am experiencing but it scares me regardless. It feels like I am being haunted by something I could’ve prevented.

I started my car, hoping that maybe going for a drive would help. But when I turned around to back up, I saw Clifford in the backseat. He looked at me. 

I nearly jumped out of my skin. I rubbed my eyes and he was gone. That was probably the worst hallucination. 

I looked back at the back seat a few times. My heart was racing. I was panicking. I needed to drive, I need to call Cassidy. I needed to just get out of here. 

But I couldn’t move. I just broke down crying. I never felt like this before in my life. It was so scary. I was sad and panicking all at once. I knew it had to be a mental breakdown, but I never had one before so it was hard to tell. 

It was like a panic attack, but worse. 

I clutched the steering wheel tightly, trying to stop sobbing. Big brother’s don’t cry, we are supposed to be the tough ones, the strong ones who protect our siblings. But…I failed Clifford. 

I didn’t come to save him. Whatever happened to him, I will never know. I knew someone who would know this feeling, Cassidy. Her sister disappeared back in 46’. I don’t know what happened to her either. 

I knew I had to call her. It had started to rain, almost like the sky was crying with me.

I pulled out of the spot I parked, trying to focus as best I could on something other than my brother. I wiped the tears out of my eyes so I could see. 

Usually driving helped get my mind off of things, but I couldn’t stop thinking. My mind wouldn’t shut up. 

I was relived I reached the phone booth at last after driving for what felt like an eternity, however it was only a few minutes. 

I got out of my car, running into the phone booth so I didn’t get soaked. It’s not that I’d care, it’s just I need to get my emotions out.

Cassidy was always a good listener. She was a smart girl, unlike how some thought. Some thought she was just a boy crazy fool. But not my Cassie, she was much more than that. 

Maybe it was stupid of me to think about how much I loved her now, but I couldn’t help it. She made me feel better. 

I dialed her number, leaning against the wall of the booth, relieved when I heard her sweet voice on the other end.

“Hey, Cassie.” I said softly, I knew she could tell I had been crying by the sound of my voice. “A lot has happened. Do you mind if I tell you?”

“Of course. Robbie, are you okay? You sound like you’ve been crying.”

I went quiet, my heart ached in my chest. I took a deep breath, my breathing was far from steady. 

“My brother…he’s gone missing. I think something bad happened to him. I went to try and find him. I might come back tomorrow in case Florence, the secretary girl, knows anything new about his disappearance. I found his hard hat.” 

I heard Cassie gasp on the other end. 

“Oh my gosh! Robert! That’s horrible!”

“Cassie, please, don’t be upset. It’s going to be okay.” I don’t know why I was trying to comfort her, I just didn’t want her to be upset as I was. 

“Robbie, I know you don’t like me being upset, but I am! I loved your brother like family!” 

“I know you did…” I replied quietly. The rain seemed to be pouring down a lot harder now.

“Do you want to come over and talk to me about it? It might be easier.” 

“I’d love that.” I replied, feeling a sad smile on my lips. 

“I will be outside on the porch. Watching the rain is nice.” She replied, I could practically hear the smile in her voice. 

“I love you, Cassie.” 

I never told her that before. But I did love her, truly I did. I knew Clifford would’ve teased the hell out of me for saying that in a phone booth and not in person. 

She was quiet for a moment. I knew she had to process what I said.

“I love you, too, Robert. I really do!” 

“I know now isn’t really the best time to admit that, but I do.”

“Oh don’t feel bad about it. I don’t think Clifford would hate you for confessing your love after he’s gone. He’d be proud you finally said something.” 

I blinked back tears, swallowing my sorrows. 

“I should go. I’ll be there soon, alright?”

“Alright, I’ll see you soon, Robbie.” 

With that she hung up, I did the same. I felt hands shaking. So much happened. I got out of the phone booth, running back to my car. I got in, looking behind me to find only Clifford’s hard hat sitting there, along with the sticky note to Florence.

I was hesitant to start driving again. I didn’t know what to do. 

I eventually started driving again. I drove in silence, no radio on. I needed it to be quiet. The rain reminded me of the rainstorms my brother was afraid of when he was little. 

I’d always tell him to stop whining. I felt bad now for saying that. But I was just a kid too.

I reached Cassidy’s house. She was sitting alone on the porch. I got out of my car, running over to her. 

“I’m here!”

Cassidy smiled sympathetically. She hugged me, pulling me out of the rain. I just broke down crying in her arms. As much as I remained stoic and seemed tough, I wasn’t afraid to cry. It is part of being human. 

Cassidy put her arms around me, she held me tightly, nothing but pure love in her embrace. I felt slightly calmer with her. She understood exactly how I felt. 

“Oh Robert. It’s going to be okay.”

I let go of her, she wiped the tears from my eyes. 

“I don’t know what to do.”

Cassidy brushed her thumb across my cheek. 

“I know that feeling. When my sister died, I felt the same way. I was lost. You remember the nights I cried nonstop, right?”

I nodded slowly. 

“Of course. I felt so useless then. I couldn’t do anything to make you feel better.”

“I know. But you did so much for me. You took me out of the house, went on walks. It helped me not drown in sorrow.”

I was happy I helped, but still, I was too upset. 

“It’s okay to talk about your feelings. My mom always told me that. If you don’t open up you’ll just be sad all the time.”

She sat down on the dry step, staring out onto the street. I sat beside her. She put her hand on top of mine, I sighed heavily. It sounded nice to listen to the rain falling. 

“I just wonder if Charlie and Clifford’s deaths were connected. That ink stuff Charlie used to talk about was in the workshop too…” I said suddenly, I scraped my nails against the wood of the porch at the mention of the ink. It was for some reason scary to me. 

I was just ink. It was just ink. That’s what I had to keep telling myself. But something darker was happening under the surface.It had to be. 

“You might be onto something.” 

“But there is nothing we can do now…” I replied dimly.

“Oh but there is something we can do. We can remember them and let their memory live on.”

Cassidy squeezed my hand. I looked over at her slightly surprised. 

“I suppose you’re right. We can do that.”

She leaned against me more. I know this would not be easy to get over. I don’t think I’ll ever get over my brother. But Cassie and I understood each other, and we would stay alive for our siblings. 

It’s the least we can do.

BONUS BECAUSE I AM EVIL >:D

I hadn’t been able to go to sleep properly. Not tonight, my brain keeps thinking. But yet somehow I cannot tell if I fell asleep or not. It all feels the same. 

I had woken up, or maybe I didn’t. Everything felt like a dream at this point. Maybe that’s what it was. Maybe it was all a bad dream. 

I was back in my bed, it’s cold in the basement of my childhood home. 

There is a shadow at the end of the bed. Why is it staring at me? Why are its eyes yellow? Why does it look like him? 

“I’m so sorry, Clifford. I failed you.” I muttered into the dark. The shadow shook its head.

“No you didn’t. You didn’t fail me. Don’t blame yourself for my death.” 

I knew this wasn’t real. But it felt slightly better knowing I shouldn’t blame myself.

“This isn’t real, is it?” I asked. Clifford shook his head. 

“No. I’m not real. Can you promise me, if you ever have children, don’t let them work for Gent?”

I was going to ask why, but I didn’t.

“I won’t let them work there, I promise.”

“Good. Now wake up.” 

Sure enough after he told me to wake up, I did. I woke up in a cold sweat. 

I put my head in my hands and cried. Even if it was a dream, it felt somewhat real. 

It was some closure. 

Even if it wasn’t real. 

My children will never work for Gent. 

I will never forgive them for taking my brother from me. 

BRO LOOK AT IT.

FATHER AND SON MOMENT AT IT'S FINEST WHAT-

(Bro ofc you have my freaking consent, you're awesome what-)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

Based off of a roleplay I’m currently doing with @unnoticedunawarestillhere :O

Uhm. This is angsty. So is the roleplay though so yeaahhhh! Hahaha…. Anyways, if this gets enough reception maybe I’ll post like, an edited transcript of it with Untitled’s consent <3

For the mean time, father-son moment.

EDIT: JUST REMEMBERED I REFERENCED A SONG HERE OOPS LMAO

Lyrics are from Race by Alex G

GUYS. GUYS. HUDSON IS IN A STORY AGAIN?! WHAAAAAAAAAT?!

This is crazy good and it definitely represented Hudson really well during his last moments alive in the studio! A lot of this was referenced from the rp me and @creationandcalamityau did a month back!

A Meeting (gift)

A short story ft Clifford Conway and @unnoticedunawarestillhere 's oc Hudson! I really hope I did your boy justice in this! It was my first time writing him, so it might not be the greatest at the moment but I tried XD. Hope you like it!

Things had started getting hectic at the studio. Clifford had no idea what truly was going on, but he knew something was clearly wrong. Employees running around left and right, packing things in boxes, scrambling to get out of there like something was going to kill them, most of the employees looked miserable at best. 

Things were falling apart. 

Clifford was tasked with collecting some other Gent Equipment, such as tools and toolboxes left behind. He was searching for hours at this point, so many random hallways, it was like a corn maze with him expecting to have something jump out at him around every corner. 

In his search, he found only one toolbox, at least that he could find. He had passed numerous employees, many of which looked at him with looks of either hatred, disgust, disappointment, worry and just overall exhaustion. He certainly felt the last one, he had run up and down flights of stairs multiple times. 

Clifford had wandered into the sewers this time, he knew something had to be down here. 

And something there was, or better someone. 

A young writer sat at a desk, he seemed very tense. The writer was muttering to himself but didn’t notice Clifford at first. Clifford walked past him, shuddering a little at the odd sight. He watched the young man’s shoulders tense for a second. Clifford somehow dropped the wrench he had been holding on the floor, making a rather loud clang as it hit the tiled floor.

“Shit!” Clifford cursed under his breath, picking the wrench back up. 

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” The writer shouted, his voice sounded rather rough like he had been yelling too much. He suddenly started coughing, Clifford winced a little, stumbling back a bit before he decided to sprint down further into the creepy sewers to find that toolbox. 

“People are weird here…” Clifford muttered to himself when he was a reasonable distance away from the rather angry writer. He sighed softly, seeing the second toolbox near the boiler room, along with an empty desk he passed, sheet music littering the desk. That was unusual but this studio seemed to be full of weirdos. 

Clifford went to retrieve the toolbox, it wasn’t too heavy thankfully. He walked back to where he saw that strange writer. The young man was still there, his brownish-black hair looked messier than it did when he first saw him. 

Clifford tried to keep going, but he was slightly concerned about the stranger. He knew he could sense him behind him. 

“Sorry about uh…dropping that wrench,” Clifford muttered quietly. The stranger coughed again, wheezing a little as if there was something stuck in his lungs like he had bronchitis or something. Clifford had the urge to scrub his hands with soap hard enough so he wouldn’t catch whatever this guy had. 

The stranger turned his head, looking at Clifford, he was tense, very tense. Clifford felt his hands clutch the handles of the toolboxes tighter. 

The young man stared at him for a second, not fully turned around. His hair obscured most of his face. He didn’t look so good. Clifford could tell by his pale, sickly-coloured skin. Though he himself was on the paler side, he at least looked healthy. 

“What do you want now?” The young man asked, he almost sounded like he was going to laugh or cry, or maybe both. 

“I just said sorry for bothering you. I will be on my way.”

The young man huffed, suddenly slamming his fist on the table, causing Clifford to jump a little, he backed up a bit more. He placed the toolboxes on the floor to give his arms a break. He wasn’t sure if he should run, even though his mind was screaming at him too, he stayed still, staring at the stranger. 

Maybe it was morbid curiosity or concern, he wasn’t sure. He wanted to leave, but he was afraid he’d get chased out of there by this weird writer. 

The young man suddenly stood up, he turned to look at Clifford, his dull dark brown eyes looked through him, not at him. Something was clearly wrong with this kid.

“Who are you? What the hell are you doing here bothering me?” The young man asked, his eyes narrowed slightly. Clifford could notice a smudge of black on the corner of his lips, which was odd. 

Clifford paused, trying to steady his breathing a bit. “I was just picking up extra Gent toolboxes.”

The writer approached him a bit more, suddenly looking around as if he heard something. 

“Please tell me you hear that too…” 

Clifford looked at him as if he was crazy, which that clearly was the case. As much as Clifford hated judging others, this kid was crazy, clearly insane. 

“What are you talking about?” Clifford asked, sounding clearly confused. 

The writer looked back at him, his eyes widened a little.

“The knocking in the walls. You don’t hear that?” 

Clifford shook his head, he wanted to run, he really did. But he was frozen here. He couldn’t move. 

The writer put his hands on his shoulders, looking at him with fear in his eyes.

“You have to hear the noises! Why don’t you hear them!?” He sounded like he was going to start crying. 

Clifford out of instinct pushed him off of him. “Don’t touch me, you weirdo! I don’t hear any noises!”

The writer blinked a little, coughing up some strange black liquid. Clifford was even more uncomfortable with this kid. He wanted to run away, he had to get out of there. 

“What, are you scared of me?” He grinned a little, his smile unsettled Clifford greatly. 

“No, I’m trying to do my job.”

The writer crossed his arms, he had a smug look on his face now, and the black liquid had trickled out of the side of his mouth a little. “And what’s that? Picking up toolboxes? That’s a pathetic job, is it not?”

“Yeah it’s dumb, but I’m helping pack up stuff for Gent. Maybe you should mind your own business, kid.” Clifford replied, sounding clearly annoyed. 

“Who are you calling, kid?”

“You, dummy. I’m calling you that.” Clifford replied with hardly any emotion in his voice, he tried to repress the feeling of annoyance that was slowly turning into anger. 

The writer laughed, sounding more like a wheeze than anything else.

“You think you scare me? You’re just another Gent Lacky.”

“I do enough work to provide for myself, I am not lacking in any way. Sure I am not the highest-ranking employee, but I work hard for what I earn. I think you should have more respect for workers like me.”

“Sure, whatever.” The writer replied nonchalantly, he was flipping a coin in the air now.

“I’m serious! I deserve some respect!” Clifford was getting frustrated with him now, he walked up to him, noticing how smug he looked at him. He flicked the coin suddenly in Clifford’s face. Clifford sighed heavily. 

“Have a Loonie, you look like you need it.” The writer said, that smug smile not leaving his face as he flicked the Loonie back at him again. Clifford was losing his patience with his kid. 

“Can you stop? Don’t want your Loonies!” 

“Come on! It’s one dollar in Canada! You aren’t scared of a single dollar are you?”

“I don’t care how much it's worth! Give me some respect!” 

The writer didn’t respond, he just flicked the Loonie back at Clifford. Clifford clenched his hand into a fist. He wasn’t the type to lash out at people, but this kid was driving him insane.

“I would stop if I were you, kid.”

“No! This is funny, you keep messing up the place and are the reason this damn studio is going to shit in the first place!”

“Don’t blame me for that! Maybe your idiot CEO should pay his damn bills.”

“Maybe you should stop ripping our studio apart!”

Clifford felt his shoulders tensing a bit, he glared at the young writer adjusting his glasses a bit. 

“Would you shut up!?” Clifford raised his voice a bit, he punched the writer in the face, he didn’t even realize it at first. 

He sort of stumbled back, looking down at the kid, he clutched the side of his face that Clifford had punched. 

The kid looked up at him, squinting a little in pain, his nose was bleeding now. Clifford looked at his fist, some blood splattered across his knuckles, even if he was wearing gloves, he could still see it. 

“What was that for!?” The writer muttered, grumbling a little in pain. He wiped the blood off of his face, staring at it on his hand for a moment, his hands were shaking. 

“I’m sorry…”

He backed up, and the kid stood back up, wiping his bloody hand on his pants before approaching Clifford. 

“Yeah? Oh wow, yeah you’re sorry! I’ll make you feel sorry for being born!” He attempted to punch Clifford, but little did he know Clifford knew how to box. He knew how to fight. He had done it before. 

Clifford squared up to prepare to fight. He glared at the young writer. 

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you.”

But of course, the writer didn’t listen, he was too angry to listen. He threw a punch but much to his surprise, Clifford caught his fist. 

His eyes widened in surprise, Clifford didn’t move, he just held his fist, before shoving him back again. 

“Enough with this! I am sorry I punched you.” 

Clifford wasn’t expecting a reply. He watched the writer suddenly look guilty. 

“I’m sorry…I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He sounded meek. He backed up a bit, he seemed upset. Sad even. 

Clifford didn’t know what to say.  He started to regret punching him.

“Are you alright? I punched you pretty hard back there.” Clifford asked suddenly. The writer simply put his arms around himself, looking off to the side, some blood still smudged under his nose. 

“No…I’m a bit crazy…I’m so sorry.” 

A bit? Clifford thought though he didn’t want to say it out loud. 

“It’s okay, it is pretty hectic around here. Are you leaving like the other employees?”

The writer shook his head. “No…I can’t.”

Clifford didn’t want to push more, he just nodded. 

“I’m Clifford. What’s your name?”

“Err…Hudson.” The writer replied, trying to straighten his already wrinkled shirt. 

“Nice to meet you. Even if this is a rather awkward way to meet.”

Hudson tried to smile but he instead broke out into another coughing fit, coughing up strange black liquid, just like the stuff that leaked from that rickety machine Thomas once showed Clifford. The liquid was ink…

He shuddered a little but didn’t question it. He didn’t know how to ask if the liquid was ink. It could’ve been chocolate syrup that you put in milk, that thought made him feel slightly better, even if it was stupid. Of course, it wasn’t syrup, it was ink, it had to be ink. 

“Are you alright?” Was all he could think to ask, trying to ignore the fact that Hudson was indeed coughing up ink. 

Hudson wiped the ink from his mouth, nodding quickly. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m okay…”

He didn’t sound certain, but Clifford didn’t want to question it anymore. 

“How did this place get this hectic? I swear it wasn’t this bad the last time I was here.” Clifford asked suddenly, changing the subject in hopes of easing his worries. 

“A lot happened,” Hudson replied, he sighed heavily, looking down the hallway for a moment. “Too much to the point I can’t even remember. I don’t even know what happened, just this machine Mr. Drew has which keeps breaking down and taking a lot of money. I guess bankruptcy?” 

“Oh shit…” Clifford muttered. “That’s no good.”

“Yeah…But don’t take everything I say as truth, I don’t know exactly what’s happening.” Hudson replied, glancing back over briefly at a bottle of ink on his desk. 

“What job do you do here?” 

“I work in the Writers Department.” 

“Oh! That’s interesting! What exactly do you do?”

“I help write the scripts for the cartoons. I often come down here to get some quiet.” Hudson glanced away for a moment at the mention of coming down here. He was getting quiet but he also left to be down here because he didn’t want to get mocked by the other writers. He didn’t want to tell Clifford that though. 

“That must be a lot of work. I could never do that type of stuff, even if I am a bit of a dreamer myself, I can’t really find the time and energy to create something. I never really learned. But I look up to people who do!”

“It’s a lot of work, I’m glad you appreciate my work,” Hudson replied with a soft smile. Clifford smiled back, he was glad to brighten his spirits a bit. 

“It was nice to meet you. I should probably get going now. But I hope we cross paths sometime again!” Clifford said, picking up his toolboxes. 

“Yeah…that would be nice! Nice to meet you too!”

Hudson smiled, watching Clifford as he turned to leave. He sighed heavily, reaching for the bottle of ink on his desk. He drank some of it, coughing a bit on the horrible taste of ink burning his throat. 

He sat back at his desk, putting his head in his hands, he hated this, he wanted to stop drinking this awful ink, but he couldn’t. It hurt him, but he kept drinking it. 

He stared at the empty papers on his desk, ink splatters dripping onto them from his lips. He simply lowered his head, giving up on working on his script. 

His mind refused to shut up. He wished he told Clifford the truth, maybe he could’ve helped him, but it was too late. 

It was always too late it seemed…

I JUST WOKE UP AND AAAAAAAHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!! GUYS IT'S HUDSON LOOK AT ITTTTT *incoherent screaming*

Fan art for @unnoticedunawarestillhere’s BATIM OC, Hudson! He’s so silly!!