#I think the joke is that Sammy has a Catchphrase

[swan2swan]

[bendy-and-buddies]

To celebrate the Dark Revival... we uncovered something sitting in the archives for quite some time.

This is a script. One for a special that was apparently slotted to be released in the month of April originally. That was all that could be discerned from the documents, what year in specific is still lost. There are even a select number of characters exclusive to this script who appear nowhere else across the Bendy IP prior to the 1990s.

((short version: Here's an "April Fools special" that's been a low effort WIP script for a long, long, LONG time. Enjoy the crack.))

DUE TO THE OUTLANDISHLY VAST FAN-DEMAND, BENDY AND BUDDIES IS NOW PERMANANTLY CHANGED TO SUIT THE HIGH DEMANDS YOU BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE HAVE ALWAYS WANTED! SO PLEASE ENJOY THE NEW, AND IMPROVED, BENDY AND BUDDIES AND THE INK MACHINE ADVENTURES!!!

[Bendy and Buddies and Etc. is filmed in front of a fictional studio audience.]

 

Angie; “Bendy! I was hoping that the both of us could visit the beach once more, mayhap we can bring the others as well?”

Bendy; “Ah, sure Anj! Sounds like it’d be fu-“

(Alice walk in and puts her arms around Bendy, very deliberately having his head near her breasts. Cue sitcom audience cheers as Alice enters.)

Alice; “Ohhh, but Bendy just promised to take me out for a date! So sorry, maybe he can play little games with you some other time, sweetums~?”

Bendy; “Alice, c’mon! she was inviting all of us! She wasn’t excluding you on purpose or something, right?”

Angie; “Um... yes, of course she may accompany us! I do not see why Alice canno-”

(Alice and Bendy make quick confused noises at Angie’s response before resuming.)

Alice; “Oh, of course! It is just like privileged little you to try and take Bendy all for yourself! Sorry airhead, but Bendy is far too grown up for a childish little girly-girl like you! A handsome devil like this deserves a real woman like me!”

 

(bouncy sound effects to imply her boobs are flopping around.)

Angie; “But, Lady Alice, I never intended-!”

Bendy; (anxiously, under his breath) “Anj, just grab my arm!”

(Angie tries to reason peacefully until Bendy gestures her to grab hold of one of his arms. Alice has his other arm in the usual love-triangle tug-of-war scenario/trope. Angie looks less “grumpy” and more uncomfortable)

 

Bendy; “Ladies, ladies! Please, there’s plenty of the Devil Darling to go around!”

Angie; “You are in samples??”

(Bendy’s surprised, laughs a bit and is about to correct her until Alice cuts in again)

Alice; “It’s an expression, nitwit! See Bendy? Why bother with this Dumb Dora, when you can have a Darlin Dame~?”

(Angie is saddened by the persistent bullying from Alice’s end)

Bendy; (angrily to Alice, under his breath again) “You’re not helpi-!”

 

(cut to Boris nearby with a banjo)

Boris; “Gee wiz Bendy, quite the heartbreaker lately aren’cha?”

Bendy; (dramatically) “it’s my devilish charms, I can’t help it!”

Boris; “One’a these days it’s gonna be yer downfall, attracting so many-“

(Sammy shows up the hell out of nowhere.)

 

Sammy; “Wonderful Lord Bendy! Let me sniff your holy panties!”

Boris: “Well, if it isn’t that super-wacky Sammy! The head of the Music Department who has no note-worthy character outside of blindly worshiping Bendy! He was never a toon like us, but… um, guess he’s here anyway! Hooray!”

Sammy; “insert anime joke here!”

Bendy; (in pure dread) “Oh no-“

 

(And now Wally shows up, also the hell out of nowhere.)

Wally; “Regardless of how Bendy’s lovelife goes, if it makes another damn tidal wave of a mess I gotta clean up: I’M OUTTA HERE!”

(stupid laughtracks playing)

Alice; “He said the catchphrase!”

Bendy; “Wally the Janitor is just hilarious in everything he pops up in, right everyone!?”

Boris; “Sponsored by the following companies listed.” (onscreen there’s several of the in-universe businesses in the canon-verse. Maybe throw in a reference to other fictitious companies? Acme is a definite one to add.)

 

Bendy; “Actually, Alice… I don’t think you really specified where you wanted to have that date anyway, where were you thinking?”

Alice; “Oh, I thought you’d never ask, my Widdle Debil! Infact, I want all of you to come with, please do follow your angel!”

Bendy and Boris; (failing to see how suspicious that was) “Sounds good to me!”

As Bendy, Boris and Sammy obediently follow Alice, Angie is called by someone else off-screen the opposite way.

 

Angie; “Wait, what was that?”

(murmured gibberish a’la Peanuts is heard)

Angie; “Oh um, alright then.”

 

(The ‘gang’, sans Angie, arrive at Joey Drew Studios. I’ll prolly just take a photo of whatever animation studio or old building from google and slap the JDS logo on top of it. Laziness!) 

 

Alice; “And here we are!”

Bendy; “Uhh… Alice??”

Boris; “Isn’t this the old studio?... Y’know, as in that place where all of us experienced terrible, traumatic pasts involving human experimentation and brutal ritualistic sacrifices that’ve left us all emotionally and mentally scared forever and other dark, gruesome things like that?”

(Bendy is a little taken aback by Boris’ detailed description.)

Bendy; “… Yeah… I thought we all vowed to never come back here…? Wasn’t finally getting out a highly triumphant moment for us or something?”

Sammy; “Lord Bendy, your buttocks is scrumptious like hamburgers!”

 

Alice; “Oh, I assure you! I have very good reasons for why I chose to take you all here! I have one… no, TWO very important things I’ve needed to show you all for a long time!”

Bendy; “Only now this has been brought up??”

Alice; “both are a lot to take in, but I need you to trust me… do you doubt your angel~?”

Bendy; “Ahh… fine then.”

Boris; “I’m ready for anything.”

(Alice looks up and calls to someone)

Alice; “Alright deary-pie, you can come out now!”

(stupid dramatic sound effects as the apparent newcomer is revealed)

Geno-Fur; “Hello, everyone!! It’s me, Geno-Fur!!”

Sudden Narrator; “Thaaaat’s right! It’s Geno-Fur the DemonAngel, the most powerful cartoon character in all of Toon Town! The perky, talented daughter of Bendy the Demon and Alice Angel with the help of the Ink Machine, this cute toon angel demon girl has an inner inky darkness unlike any other! She’s oh-so deep, mysterious and meaningful everyone!”

 

Bendy; (more and more like he’s reading it off a script) “Oh my Satan! Alice, we have a long-lost daughter who is beautiful and an objectively perfect and wonderful blend of who we both are! And will probably easily surpass us in popularity! If I had known we had such a blessing who totally didn’t just fall out of the sky, I would have dropped everything, married you and center my entire life around you both!

Sammy; “Praise be unto the blessed firstborn!”

(Boris is bug-eyed, genuinely dumbfounded by what is happening before him)

Boris; “UM…??”

 

Geno-Fur; “OMG! Mommy, Daddy, thank you so much! You even brought my husband here to see me!

(Geno-Fur hugs Boris hard enough to pop his spine, he’s in pain. “CAN’T… B-BREATHE-!!” his poor banjo has snapped in two. To Boris’ luck, Geno-Fur releases him.)

Bendy; (zero effort on his part) “Don’t go breakin’ my princess’s heart, Boris…”

Alice; “I love beautiful reunions!”

Sammy; “I shall always be a loyal, faithful Side-Hoe willing to pleasure you, your Queen, and your glorious child, my Lord!”

 

Boris; “Guys, none of this is in my copy of the script, what’s going on?!?”

Alice; “I’ll gladly answer that! What’s going on is my second reason…”

(Alice wipes the side of her face to reveal the same gross Scarface thing going on with Susie-Alice. Shock Horror, she’s also Susie-Alice.)

Alice: “As it turns out, I’m still not near as perfect as I’d like to be!! AH-HAHAHA!”

(Alice cackles evilly as she grabs Boris and drags him into the building. Yes, exactly like the end of Chapter 3.)

Boris; (As he’s spirited away) “WHAAAAAT THEEEEE HAYSTAAACK!?....”

 

Bendy; “What!? Oh god, Boris!! Hang on buddy, I’m coming!”

(a panicking Bendy runs in to rescue Boris, Sammy and Geno-Fur follow)

Sammy; “M’Lawd! I will follow you to the ends of the earth!”

Geno-Fur; “Mommy!! Daddy!! Why can’t we settle this like normal people!?”

(Bendy is desperately trudging into the studio, unknowingly he is very slowly melting into his monster-form we are all familiar with as he becomes exhausted)

Bendy; “Boris, please hang on!! I’m coming...!! .. Augh… Maybe… Maybe I should hit the gym? NO!! No, I’m fine!! Goddamned fine!! I just gotta… Gotta keep going… Wait, wait… why is my sweat this… thick and… dark?”

(Bendy’s then surprised upon overhearing something, looking to the side to find Henry somewhere in the distance and humming to himself- probably doing one of the Chapter 3 tasks)

Henry; “Joey Drew he likes big fingers in his ass, Joey Drew he likes big fingers in his ass, fingers in his ass, he likes in his-” (yes. It’s that meme. I have zero shame.)

(Bendy slowly becomes angered)

Bendy; “Henry… Henry!!”

(this gets Henry’s startled attention. As Bendy rants he slowly completes his transformation into Monster-Bendy.)

Bendy; “My old, actual for-real creator, Henry… You left everyone… You left ME! Why didn’t you stay!? Was I just a mistake to you, blaming me for everything Joey did!? Why didn’t you love me, Henry!? Was I never good enough for you!? You LIED to us!! You never stopped Joey from all of the atrocities he committed!! You never came back!! You never played catch with me and called me ‘Sport’!! You never threw me a Birthday!! YOU NEVER BOUGHT ME A HAPPY MEAL!!!”

Henry; “Oh gosh!”

(Henry zooms away as fast as he can, his warped and enraged cartoon-demon son giving chase. Suddenly Geno-Fur to the oh-so convenient rescue.)

Geno-Fur; “Oh my god, daddy!! Izzat you?? Ohmygaww I can see why mommy thot u wer hawt!!”

(Bendy is understandably confused by her appearance and comment.)

Bendy; “huh…what??”

(he looks back to where Henry was initially, however Henry’s already in a miracle station also conveniently nearby)

Bendy; “HE’S GONE!! Where did he-!?”

Geno-Fur; “Ummm like… you know that weird up-and-down door and room thingy with buttons??”

Bendy; (surprised at how goddamn stupid she is) “The… you mean the elevator?”

Geno-Fur; “Yeah!! The escalator! I think Henry’s using it to go down to liiiiike… Level 1000!”

Bendy; “…There is no Level 1000. The building doesn’t tunnel down THAT deep.”

Geno-Fur; “Exactly!! Like, he’s going so deep down he’s trying to get to a level that doesn’t exist! I’m sure that if you go all the way down to the last floor, you’ll find Henry! Good luck daddykins!”

Bendy; (half-assing at this point) “Well, I totally trust my perfect hybrid daughter to never lie to me ever and that alibi is highly convincing. I will go.”

(Bendy exists the scene in his usual spooky way, to which Henry hops back out of the station.)

Geno-Fur; “Hurry Henry!! We gotta save mah Woof Hubby and get out of here!! And bring mommy and daddy back with the power of family love!!”

(Geno-Fur tearfully exists, Henry following her.)

Henry; “This is what I got out of retirement for…”

 

(Cut to Alice’s super-duper evil lab room with Boris strapped to the operating table Frankenstein style. Alice is still acting in-character, in contrast Boris is basically left to ad-lib and isn’t entirely certain on the mood of the scene. Boris scratches at his neck, but quickly puts his arm back in as soon as he realizes they’re rolling.)

Alice; (some obligatory evil chuckling) “… And after I’ve done away with you, Henry AND Bendy, I can continue my makeover with no trouble or interruptions at all! Then I will have the popularity I was always destined for! Now, any last words before you fulfil your purpose, little wolfie~?”

Boris; “is it too early to make a ‘stole my heart’ joke, even though you got the REAL side-splitters, or...?”

(some muffled laughter off-stage is heard, implied to be Rodney behind the camera. Alice is unamused and gestures at Boris threateningly.)

Alice; “Be quiet or I’ll cut you open faster.”

Boris; “Alright, alright, I’ll shush…” 

The “mysterious” voice who may or may not be Rodney; “Bitter hag-”

 

(because of budgetary, technical, and time-related issues… we already skip over to chapter 4 events because we’re basically haphazardly trying to scrunch in the entire canon-game story, not caring if it makes any sense at all like always)

 

Henry; “Okay, so it’s only now occurred to me to ask; earlier, we were in the show… but as we kept going, all of a sudden we’re in the-?”

Geno-Fur; “YAWN! You’re boring old-man dinosaur talk is super boring, we’re not gonna rescue Boris fast enough if you don’t let me do all of the mouth-stuff! No wonder mommy and daddy wanna murder-fy you, LOL!”

Henry; “I… I don’t even- what the heck is a ‘LOL’, anyway!? Why are you helping me if you’re their daughter or something!?”

Geno-Fur; “Because I’m sooo nice!! :3”

Henry; “How… how do you even work??”

 

(The Butcher Gang mooks appear right the hell out of nowhere without Henry even opening any of the doors)

Charley; (in a grunty, zombie-ish way) “Now’s are time to shine, boys… Lets take all of our pent-up frustrations out on Henry!”

Geno-Fur; “OOOOOH MY GOOOOOOOD!!! SOOOO KAWAII! THESE GUYS ARE SOOO MY HUSBANDS!”

(she hugs all three up to her tumour-tits, immediately all their necks snap.)

Henry: (not even caring anymore) “I thought you said Boris was your husband.”

Geno-Fur; “Ummm, DUH? Of course, he is! You’ve clearly not been listening to me with your senile old-ness! Seriously, I thought the guy who drew ME would be super-hot and NOT some old BOOMER! Isn’t that right, husbands!?”

(she only now realises the 3 are dead and lets out a big Darth Vader “NOOOO!!!”, Henry is unfazed.)

 

(Meanwhile, back at Bendy’s Ink Machine throne room - Bendy was able to hear Geno-Fur’s annoying whine from several of those miles upwards)

Bendy; “the hell…? Ugh… probably my cue… A guy just can’t watch his own show on loop in peace anymore…”

(as Bendy speaks he’s existing his “castle” to return to the higher levels. Sammy abruptly appears again in one of the hallways Bendy passes.)

Sammy; “My Lord! I will always be gleeful and willing to perform any request you-!”

 

(Bendy, not even making eye-contact, clocks Sammy in the head with his “good toon hand” hard enough to put the walking notice-me-senpai-joke out cold, the sound effect a wet and loud POW. Mr Lawrence is unconscious. And maybe missing some teeth.)

 

Bendy; “Fuckin’ punchline…”

 

(Cut back to Henry and Geno-Fur at the carnival prototype area. The poor old man is being ranted at by the annoying Mary Sue disaster for killing her 3 other “husbands”. Even though that was her own fault.)

 

Geno-Fur; “Those valiant gentle-mans meant the world to me and now they’re all gross inky poopy-goop!! This is all YOUR fault, you ugly old murderer-guy, you!! Feel guilty for your evil sins!!”

Henry; “I never even touched them; YOU did that! Please tell me, are you some kinda alien who is trying to mimic what a toon looks and acts like? Because you’re failing miserably.”

Geno-Fur; “I’m young and pretty and you’re a wrinkly old fart!! That means I’m right and you’re wrong!!”

(Henry groans in annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose)

Henry; “Alright then… Seeing as I’m clearly a hindrance to your ‘noble quest’ or… whatever, how’s about this: you go ahead and complete all of the puzzles needed to unlock the doors, while I search for any clues or another alternate route that could maybe get us into that haunted house faster? I mean, clearly, it’d be my only good contribution to your ‘mission’.”

Geno-Fur; “Pfff, I have a better idea! I’ll go ahead and complete all the puzzles needed to unlock the doors, while YOU search for any clues or another alternate route that could maybe get us into that haunted house faster! I mean, clearly, it’d be your only good contribution to my mission!”

 

(As Geno-Fur sneers she walks to the puzzle-room that has Norman in it, Henry has an expression that all but states he wants to see this obnoxious girl get hit by a truck.)

Henry; “You…go do that.”

Geno-Fur; “YAS! And I’ma doit like a sexy QUEEN~!!”

(As she enters the door shuts behind her, trapping her there until the task would be completed.)

Henry; “Okay then… Better think of something before she gets back. I can only put up with that rotten attitude for so long…”

(Before Henry knew it, he now hears several sounds indicative of clutter and a chase as he sadly must hear Geno-Fur’s voice once more, although muffled through the walls and corridors… There are gradually more muffled sounds of disaster around him, almost impossibly so as Geno-Fur’s whining can be heard amongst it. Sounds range from explosions, to car horns and all the way to an elephant. Henry is utterly lost.)

Henry; “What the devil is that brat doing!?”

(as soon as the noise dies down finally, all the doors and puzzles have spontaneously been completed. Whatever Geno-Fur caused in there, it finished everything for him.)

Henry; “Wait, already?... Huh, that screechy rat-girl helped with progress for once…”

 

(Not wasting any time, Henry hops into the attraction and heads towards one of the carts on the track. Extra sound-effects/in-game audio to indicate the ride starts, as Henry is slowly carted through the tunnel-portion the intercom is switched on, it’s Boris and Susie-Alice mid-conversation. Alice sounds angered with a reasonable Boris.)

Boris; “-I’m just saying, you weren’t part of Henry’s initial vision when making this show, and that isn’t a bad thing! I mean, Lola got popular after Space Jam-“

Susie-Alice; “And popular with who, exactly!? A bunch of perverts who don’t care about character! But as soon as I make it to the big top, the world will know I’m appealing in mind AND sexuality! So, what if I was Joey’s add-on!? I was the best thing to happen to you and Bendy’s sad little circus!”

Boris; “Alice, look, there’s no need to get hostile. I’ve been trying to help you and turn it around into something positive. You’re the one choosing to see it as something wrong. You’re not one of Henry’s characters like Bendy and I. That isn’t an insult, it’s what happened!”

Susie-Alice; “Well! You!... You’re just a sad, stupid mongrel who digs up bones! And your friend is a fat, gremlin slob who’ll never have anything near as wonderful as me!! How do you like that, huh!? What do have to say to that!?”

Boris; “I’d say now you’re just yelling like an angry school-kid ‘cuz you don’t have a point.”

 

(Henry pays no heed to the Halloween-themed pop-ups as he listens in awkwardly)

Henry; “I might’ve jumped in too soon...”

(Susie-Alice and Boris both let out surprised a “huh?”)

Henry; “Oh! Did… did you two hear me? Didn’t think it worked that way.”

Boris; “Howdy Henry! Real quick, was all’a that ruckus earlier from that Jenny-chick? Sounded like a twister full of cats was let loose in here!”

Susie-Alice; “How much did you hear!? Wait, wait!! How do you shut this off!? Can we do this over!? Make the cart stop right now! I was supposed to give a profound and depressing speech--!!”

(the intercom is abruptly cut as Alice panics, likely because she was scrambling on the buttons. Henry’s already at the “house” part of the ride with paintings and such.)

Henry; “… I’ll just tell her I only heard something about bones and gremlins.”

(As Henry is carted across the room, he comments on the environment casually)

Henry; “Wonder who did the paintings in here? I need to ask around when I can. I don’t think the poor fella ever got credit, knowing Joey’s ‘forgetfulness’… Bertrum prolly has the answer, if he’s still nearby.”

(Henry’s about to head into the dark tunnel where Boris *would* be there as a Frankenstein monster to make it stop… but no, he isn’t there. Not to any degree.)

Henry: “Uhh… ‘Oh no! what has she done to you!?’ …”

(He clears his throat, then adds more base to his voice)

Henry: “…’OH NO! what has she done to you!?’ …”

 

(Although Henry’s deeper into the darker portion of the ride than what was normal, his tired prayer is answered as a pair of hands latch onto the cart and force it to stop. They, however, are not Boris’ mega-hands… But Norman’s, as is indicative by what Henry can see as well as the grunts. He has removed the camera-head mask)

Henry: “… ‘Boris! What has she do-!?’ wait… wait, Nor-?”

(Norman, shrouded in shadows, cuts Henry off with a panicked “SHH!!”, then whispers...)

Norman: “Look, Hen, I’m having as hard a time to follow what’s going on as you are. I’m going to push you back and adjust the cart, so it doesn’t keep moving. This did not happen, and you never saw me!”

Henry: “Of course… Highly terrifying Ink-monster who I did not see here…”

Norman: “There we go.”

 

(As the not-Projectionist(?) stated, he shoved the cart back and made quick work to turn it in such a way that it wouldn’t continue onward on the track. Henry is awkwardly left alone waiting for the warped-Boris cue.)

Rodney, undoubtedly the cameraman now and in a snarky mood; “… Isn’t something supposed to happen in this clearly suspenseful climax we’ve been building up to?”

(There is a loud “BONK” sound effect as Rod is clocked on the noggin by somebody else, resulting in an annoyed “OW!! Son of a…!!” from him.)

 

(Susie-Alice enters the room without warning, very blatantly stalling for time with improvisations. Henry hardly reacts.)

Susie-Alice; “We meet again, Henry! You’re trapped in my web, and a little fly like you will have no chance of escape!”

Henry; “Didn’t you already use that spider-web analogy a while ago...?”

Susie-Alice; “Soon! Your face will be an analogy for all the pain and ruin you’ve done unto me which is very clearly your fault as much as Joeys’! But! Unlike your ruined face mine will be fixed and I’ll be the heavenly starlet idol I’ve always deserved to be!”

Henry; “You lost me.”

Susie-Alice; “And I’ll make you lose your head too! Literally, not figuratively!”

(she charges to him dramatically, brandishing a vase prop from the table. Henry leisurely hops out of the cart finally.)

Henry; “a cue to fight and defend myself, alrighty then...”

 

(Before Henry could spring into this on-the-spot “Boss Battle”, a sudden gent pipe whizzes through the air at a beeline to Susie-Alice’s head. It’s only hard enough to make her stop in her tracks with a surprised shriek and grunt to herself for a little in pain. Standing on top of the cart Henry had exited is “Allison Alice”. She’s posed dramatically and without Tom.)

“Allison”; “Please, don’t give up Henry! You’re our only hope!... Don’t know why I said that here and now, but I did…”

Henry; (fake gasp, he’s clearly getting tired) “Oh My Goodness, another Amy the Angel?”

“Allison”; “Um, it’s ‘Alice’-”

Henry; “-Dearie me, given that there have been dozens of Boris copies, does that mean there are just as many of you?”

“Allison”; “Honestly, you’ll love what I still remember about what happened to Lacie.”

(Susie moans about her brow hurting, “Allison” remembers her other lines.)

“Allison”; “OH! Uhh by the way Henry do not be deceived by this awful, evil witch! Even though I look even less like her, I’m absolutely the real and goody-good Alice Angel!”

 

(This accusation catches Susie-Alice’s attention, and she angrily glares daggers at her like a snobby teenaged girl who got upstaged at prom.)

Susie-Alice; “You attention-whore hussy! I’m the REAL Alice Angel!”

“Allison”; “No, I’M Alice!”

Susie-Alice; “I’m Alice Angel!”

“Allison”; “I’m Alice Angel!”

Susie-Alice; “I’m Alice Angel!”

“Allison”; “I’m Alice Angel!”

Susie-Alice; “I’m Dirty Dan!”

“Allison”; “I’m Dirty Dan!”

(they both pause)

Susie-Alice; “…Did that really just come out of our mouths-?”        

 

(explosion and clutter noises, everyone is surprised. It’s Geno-Fur having burst into the haunted house room through the wall.)

Geno-Fur; “Shit! I was so lucky daddy saved me from that creepy camera-head guy! He could’ve grabbed my sexy butt and make it all gross with the weird ink corruption!!”

Henry; (under his breath) “Why did neither of them strangle her…”

Geno-Fur; “Mommy! Stop it! I know you’re like so much more than all this darkness and suffering! I totes forgive you for turning my woof hubby all ugly, because I know we can all fix and love him together! You don’t have to stab anything! You nurtured me and made me the proud, talented, and strong woman I am today!”

“Allison”; “… are you talking to her or me??”

Geno-Fur; “Yes!!”

 

(Monster-Bendy’s signature Ink Aura seeps into the room as he suddenly approaches. Oh, the suspense!)

Henry, actually surprised by this; “Wait a minute, already?? How did he know to come right here!?”

Henry, now grumpily; “... It was that pea-brained banshee, wasn’t it. All of that obnoxious wailing lured him to us!”

Geno-Fur; “Shuttup! I’m legit the reason anything good happened here!!”

Henry, rolling his eyes; “Oh yeah. Sure…”

 

(Boris… Oh Sorry I mean Franken-Boris, finally enters the scene… however everyone is still talking, and he just stands there in the back awkwardly now that any room for his cue to start the monster act is completely null with the current cast ensemble. Once more, none of what is now transpiring was in his copy of the script. He’d be whistling and twiddling his “thumbs” if they weren’t so massive and heavy now.)

 

Monster-Bendy, finally; “Well, I for one can’t wait to make... Whatever her name is stay quiet ONCE AND FOR ALL! But first things first, my bloody and graphic vengeance on HENRY!”

Susie-Alice; “HEY! Wait your turn, fatty! I’m having vengeance on him FIRST!”

Monster-Bendy; “THE FUCK YOU JUST CALL ME!? FINE THEN, MY VENGENCE IS ON EVERY PATHETIC SOUL IN THIS ROOM!”

“Allison”; “I was supposed to get Hen out of here by now??”

Geno-Fur; “DADDYYYYYY! NUUUUUUU! LEMME TOK 2 U!!”

Monster-Bendy; “WHAT!?”

Geno-Fur; “Plz, DADDY!

Monster-Bendy; “I heard you the first time-”

 

Geno-Fur; “If you’re not able to look within your heart and see that this isn’t what you want…

Monster-Bendy; “Sweet Solomon, what am I in for.”

Geno-Fur; “I wrote a song, which was 100% not originally by Christina Aguilera, JUST for you about how killing the people you love is wrong, and that I’m your best daughter ever AND LOVE YOU no matter what! It’s really dope and super cooler than what happened in Goofy Movie and I practiced all of the Fortnight dances and Minecraft stuff for it that I put it to and EVERYTHING! Duncha remember you n mommys wedding?? It was super bomb and I was the best gothic flowergirl in fishnets, leather skirt, midnight black corset and red firey boots EVER! Jus remember all de times we were like the best sexiest fam in da WORLD! And after it’s all done, I can play fnaf games with you! And then later, we’ll have another episode where I’m in highschool and Boris-sempai meets me under the cherry-blossom trees and I made him been-toes n’ stuff, and we’re the best OTP ever and Romeo and Juliet could never hope to compare to how deep we got it! And then in the final season it’ll be revealed yer in love with Uncle Cuphead and mommy is all like-!”

 

Bendy is slack jawed at this stupidity. He finally snaps.

 

Bendy; “F-… Fortnight and..? Did I hear that? Stop the cameras. Hit the brakes. Back up the bus. STOP THE GODDAMN MUSIC! Listen, I’ve put up with a LOT of braindead pandering malarkey this episode, but shit like FORTNITE REFERENCES and other media where they don’t belong are where I’m drawing the damn line. That tears it! I’m leaving! I don’t give a shit about getting a check anymore! I have a cat to feed and play with back at home, and I’m not wasting anymore time or energy on this! I’VE HAD IT WITH THIS TRIPE!!”

 

As Bendy rants, he’s removing his huge monster-self costume. Boris struggles out of the fat-suit and discards the gigantic gloves, whipping one of the X’s off his eyelids. They were makeup.

Boris; “I’m right there with you, Bend. I didn’t spend three years religiously studying musical theatre and drama to be in this piece of cow dung!”

“Allison” removes her wig to reveal it’s been Maria the whole time, because the real Allison wanted no part in this.

Maria; “Personally I’d of taken so many fat ones to stay OUT of the camera.”

Boris; “...’Many fat’ what??”

Maria; “I’ll… say when we’re older!”

Boris; “Mari, all of us are presumed 20-somethings-“

 

Rodney, finally visible as he’s approaching the set: “Rufford could fart on paper, and that’d be better material than this slop.”

Boris; “Who’s to say he isn’t one of the prime suspects? I mean, if it wasn’t Mr. Drew, or Raph-”

Bendy; “I just remembered, where the Blue Hell’s Angie!? She straight-up VANISHED in the middle of act 1!”

Angie, muffled; “Um, I am in here!”

 

They all look to a wooden box nearby. Boris pries it open to reveal Angie squeezed within.

Angie; “Hello, my friends!”

Bendy; “Anj!”

Angie; “I was informed that this would be my best contribution to the project...”

Boris; “… Wait, why put Angie into one of the crates I was s’posed to SMASH to bits, according to my script copy?”

 

(Geno-Fur interrupts like always)

Geno-Fur; “NnnnnOOOO!!! You can’t leave now! It was getting soooo gooooood!! I WANT TO SPREAD THE FEELS OF MY FEELS SPEECH!!”

Bendy; “SHADDAP, you obnoxious personification of preteen fanfiction and anime-base art!! C’mon outta there Angie, Henry promised to take us out for donuts after this.”

Angie, freed from the crate; “Oh, lovely!”

Boris; “I call dibs on the first bear claw.”

Maria; “Oh, I can absolutely go for a cream-filling!”

Bendy; “Maria, just.. don’t..”

 

Alice, trying to get Maria’s attention but ultimately ignored; “Why did the pipe you throw at me SMELL ‘funny’!?”

Dolly enters, just as frustrated about this dumb performance as everybody else.

Dolly; “Ages and ages on EVERYONE’S makeup, and do I get any mention on the end-credits? When I looked them over, NO.”

Rodney, chiming in; “Damn good for a first shot at horror-film sorta faceups, if ya ask me.”

Dolly; “Aw, you!”

Bendy; “Yeah, you got an artists’ hand Dolly! I remember Boris and I having a double-take at how well you captured Alice’s inner evil.”

Dolly; “Spoiling me, every single one of you”

(distant sound of Alice grunting grumpily and walking away from the group.)

 

Norman, somewhere in the distance: “Let’s just wrap this up and go home everybody, Joey can get his ears hollered off later!”

Bertrum, further away: “MY SCENES WERE SKIPPED OVER ALTOGETHER! THE NERVE OF WHOEVER PLITHERED OUT THIS PIGS’ EXREMENT…!!”

 

(Various voices are heard as the entire crew dissipates. Improv whatever.)

 

Henry returns to the remaining “toon crew”, holding a set of car keys

Henry; “Ima’s offered to tag along and pitch in, donuts are our treat fellas!”

 

Bendy, Angie, Boris, and company (not counting Alice or Geno-Fur) cheer in delight as they follow Henry out to grab some good old Shipley’s. Although still close by, the metaphorical camera is on the lady-trio. They momentarily face the audience.

 

Dolly; “Just to clarify, none of that hogwash we trudged through is canon.”

Angie; “We still hope you were entertained, thank you dearly for coming!”

Maria, after blowing a kiss; “Goodnight, everybody!”

 

END.

[crooked-sleep]

Day 2 - Science-Approved Ways of Keeping Warm

WARNING: this is nsfw! clothed car sex, sort of top!dean and bottom!sam but no actual penetration.

—

“Dean, I don’t think we’re going to find another motel,” Sam says.

“No, I think we will,” Dean insists stubbornly.

“That’s what you said thirty miles ago,” Sam points out. “And twenty miles ago when I said the last motel just passed by. And then again nine miles ago–”

“Okay, okay, I get it! What do you want me to do?”

Sam shrugs. “I don’t know, man. Look–” He holds up his phone. “There are no more motels for at least a hundred miles. And I don’t think you can drive that much right now without a break. You’ve been yawning non-stop for an hour now.”

As if to prove his point, Dean yawns again. “Okay, fine, you’re right,” he admits with a groan. “Now what?”

Sam is quiet for a few moments, and then says, “I think we’re going to have to sleep in the car.”

“Sam, it’s freezing,” Dean points out. “It is literally below zero, and there isn’t enough gas to keep the car running the entire night.”

“Well, what other choice do we have?” Sam argues. “We’re literally in the middle of nowhere, and you didn’t stop when I said we should!”

“So now this is my fault?” Dean demands.

“That’s not what I said!”

“Well, it’s what I heard!”

“What are you, twelve?”

“What are you, six?”

“Oh, what an amazing comeback,” scoffs Sam. “So original.”

“You know what, Sam?”

“What?” Sam challenges.

Dean takes his eyes off the road to glare at him. Sam looks back, maintaining eye contact. For a moment neither of them speak – and then Dean swerves suddenly, coming to a stop on the shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Sam asks.

“Stopping, obviously,” Dean answers. He puts the car in park and engages the parking brake, before zipping his jacket up and throwing his door open. A burst of cold air hits Sam in the face, cutting off abruptly when Dean shuts the door. It really is freezing outside.

Sam watches through the windows as Dean opens the trunk, grabs an armful of blankets, and then slams it shut again. There is another burst of cold air when Dean gets in the car, except he’s in the backseat now. “Well?” he says when he notices Sam watching him. 

“Well, what?” Sam asks.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Get in the back, Sammy.”

“I’m not stepping outside,” Sam says, crossing his arms. “It's cold.”

The look Dean gives him would have any other man digging their own grave to lie in it. “Cold, huh,” he says flatly.

“Yeah,” mutters Sam. “It is. And don’t look at me like that,” he adds. “I didn’t make you go outside.”

“Didn’t hear you offering,” Dean says shortly.

“You didn’t ask,” Sam says. He takes a look around the Impala, trying to figure out if there’s space enough for him to clamber over the front seat and into the back instead of having to go outside–

“Don’t even think about it,” Dean warns.

“Ugh, fine,” says Sam with an eye-roll. There isn’t enough space, even if Dean wouldn’t throw a fit, and it looks like Sam’s going to have to go outside after all.

The air outside is even colder than Sam had previously thought, and he can’t help but tense up, muttering a curse under his breath. It only takes a few seconds for him to get in the backseat, but it’s more than enough to have him shivering as he slides in next to Dean.

One look at him and Dean’s expression softens; he reaches out to put an arm around Sam’s shoulders and pull him into his side. “Look,” he says, rubbing a hand up and down Sam’s arm. “We’ll sleep for a few hours and then be up as soon as possible, okay? And then I’ll find the next motel and we’re not leaving for a couple days at least. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Sam says. “Yeah, okay.”

“Should’ve listened to you,” Dean says after a moment. It’s the closest to an apology that Sam’s going to get.

“It’s fine,” Sam says, and offers Dean a little smile. “We’ll be fine. We’ve done it so many times before.”

Dean chuckles, withdrawing his arm from around Sam so he can unfurl one of the blankets. “Yeah, remember when we were kids?”

Sam grins. “It was easier then.”

“Hey, your fault for being so overgrown,” Dean says lightly.

“Me?” Sam laughs. “You’re not exactly small yourself.”

Dean grins. “Damn right.” He makes sure the left side door is locked before leaning his back against it, bringing one leg up and letting it rest against the back of the seat. “Come on,” he says. “Just like old times, huh, Sammy?”

“Yeah,” says Sam, accepting Dean’s unspoken invitation. It takes some effort, but somehow he manages to arrange himself on the seat, his back against Dean’s chest and legs pulled up to his chest.

Dean wraps both arms around Sam’s middle once they’re settled. “Okay?” he asks.

“As okay as I’ll get,” Sam replies, pulling the blanket up to his chest so that it covers both of them as much as possible. “You?”

“Mm, I’m fine,” Dean answers. Sam can feel his voice vibrate in his chest when he speaks. “It’s only a few hours. You warm?”

“Warm enough,” Sam tells him. They’ve both got on at least four layers, and the heavy old blanket draped over them definitely helps. “Hey, if we’re driving again later, we should probably turn the car off. Don’t wanna waste gas.”

“No way, dude,” Dean says firmly. “We’ll freeze our asses off. I’ve got a spare canister of gas in the trunk, we’ll be fine till we can refuel.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Sam relaxes again, letting his head fall back against Dean’s shoulder.

Dean’s fingers are playing with the hem of Sam’s shirt, and absently slipping under the layers and toying with his waistband. Sam shivers a little when he feels Dean’s touch on his skin. “Your hands are cold,” he murmurs.

“They’ll warm up in a few,” Dean answers, sounding like he’s not paying much attention to the conversation.

Sam lets out a short laugh when Dean begins unbuttoning his jeans. “What, you really wanna do this right now?”

“It’s a good way to generate body heat,” Dean replies with a cheeky grin. “Huh, Sammy?”

“Fine,” Sam replies after a moment, unable to help the grin on his face in response to Dean’s. “I’m not gonna say no to that.”

“Can’t argue with science, Sammy.” Dean’s hand slips under Sam’s boxers, and Sam gasps when cold fingers touch his cock.

“Dammit, Dean!”

“Patience, Sammy,” Dean says in an infuriatingly calm tone, wrapping his hand around Sam’s cock and pulling it free.

“Your hands are freezing!”

Instead of replying, Dean just hums, his voice right next to Sam’s ear. Slowly, maddeningly, he moves his hand upwards, stroking Sam to full hardness, and at the same time, he starts pressing soft kisses to the underside of Sam’s jaw and his neck.

“Haven’t done this in a while,” he murmurs against Sam’s skin. “Gotten too damn busy.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam answers, letting his body go loose in response to the low, soothing bass of Dean’s voice. He’s almost completely hard now, his body in tune with Dean, unable to resist. Not that he wants to. He never has. Not Dean.

“Missed this,” Dean breathes, and his voice is as effective as his hands are. Sam’s whole body is paying attention now, hyperfocused on Dean’s hands on his cock and his lips on his throat. “Soon’s we find a motel, I’m taking you to bed and not letting you go till you’re screaming my name, baby.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Sam manages to say. He’s very proud of himself for being coherent right now, with Dean’s thumb brushing feather-light over his slit, his free hand splayed across Sam’s belly.

Dean is hard too; Sam can feel it against his ass. It can’t be comfortable, he thinks, Dean’s cock trapped in his jeans and Sam’s weight on top of it. He wriggles forward a little, reaching behind himself with one hand and fumbling with Dean’s zipper.

“What are you doing?” Dean asks. He sounds amused.

“Trying to get into your pants,” Sam tells him, and then snickers at his own joke.

Dean rolls his eyes fondly. “Next time just ask nicely,” he says, removing his hand from Sam’s belly so he can help him with the button and zipper.

“Where’s the fun in that?” asks Sam as he manages to free Dean’s cock.

Dean lets out a groan from in between clenched teeth when Sam touches him. “That can’t be comfortable,” he says, looking at the way Sam’s half-twisted in Dean’s lap, trying to touch him while keeping Dean’s hand on him at the same time. It is uncomfortable, but Sam’s feeling very compromising and sacrificial at the moment. Being turned on tends to do that to him.

As it turns out, even that is unnecessary; Dean takes his hand out of Sam’s pants and puts them both on Sam’s hips, gently pushing him off. “Just a second,” he says in answer to the displeased sound Sam makes in the back of his throat.

“What are you doing?” Sam asks, for the billionth time in just under an hour. It seems that’s his catchphrase of the night.

“Just a second,” Dean repeats, and then spits into his palm. He strokes his own cock a few times, and Sam watches, mesmerized by the movement of Dean’s hand, and the translucent drops of precome forming at the tip.

“Okay,” Dean says a few minutes later, breaking the spell. Before Sam can ask what’s up, Dean has his hands back on Sam’s hips, pulling his boxers and pants lower. Sam hisses at the sudden cold, goosebumps arising on his skin, but then Dean’s pulling him back in place, this time with his cock firm against Sam’s ass.

“Okay?” he asks, taking one hand off Sam’s waist so he can wrap it around his cock again.

“Yeah,” Sam answers, leaning back into Dean’s chest again. “Yeah, ’m fine, just - just do something already.”

“Your wish is my command, you impatient little bitch,” Dean says, but there is fondness in his tone, and Sam wants to reply but then Dean thrusts, dick moving against Sam’s hole, and the sound that comes out of Sam at that is, frankly, embarrassing.

He really needs to get laid.

“Do that again,” he demands, and Dean laughs.

“You like that, huh,” he says, and moves again, and at the same time his hand on Sam moves upward, right to the tip. Sam’s hips jerk forward of their own accord, trying to get more friction against his dick, but he’s pretty much trapped against Dean, and all he manages to achieve is a pitiful kind of thrust.

“Dean, come on,” he whines, and he’d be embarrassed about that if this were any other situation, but he’s cold, and he’s horny, and all he wants is Dean inside him right now. But that’s not possible at the moment, not in cramped quarters with no lube, so he’s going to have to do with this, and keep reminding himself of Dean’s promise.

“I got you,” Dean mutters in his ear, before pressing a kiss to the angle of his jaw. At the same time he thrusts forward, dick slippery with precome and spit and sliding over Sam’s hole. “I got you, Sammy–” Twists his wrist, and Sam bites his lip as he groans. “Wanna fuck you, but–”

“Later,” Sam gasps out, reaching behind himself to grab a fistful of Dean’s shirt just for something to hold on to. His toes are already curling desperately inside his boots, his body trying to figure out if he should move backwards into Dean’s dick or forwards into his hand.

“Later,” Dean confirms, and kisses Sam’s throat. Sam turns his head, so that the next kiss is on his lips, and at the same time Dean thrusts shallowly again, dick wet and warm against Sam’s ass. His thumb is sweeping over Sam’s slit, and Sam knows he’s moaning into the kiss, and he doesn’t care at all that he’s probably loud enough to be heard outside the car. He doesn’t think he’d care even if there were someone around to hear him.

“Shit, that’s hot,” Dean mutters against Sam’s lips. “My hands still cold?”

“No,” Sam tells him, and kisses him again. Dean responds enthusiastically, tongue slipping into Sam’s mouth, and Sam opens up without resistance, letting Dean have his way.

His eyes have been closed for a while now, the world around him falling away as he lets go of thought and other higher brain functions. All he can really focus on at the moment is Dean, all around him, his mouth on Sam’s, his hands on Sam’s cock, his dick against Sam’s ass. Despite the cold, Dean’s body is warm, heat radiating even through all the layers they’re both in. Dean’s hands on Sam feel like coming home, like his heart has just restarted, like he’s learning how to breathe all over again, and Sam feels like he’s falling, falling, falling, with none of the terror and all of the adrenaline and exhilaration.

“Dean? Dean, I’m close, I’m close–”

“It’s all right, Sammy,” Dean says, pulling back to kiss the corner of his mouth. “It’s okay–” He twists his wrist, thumb skating over the head of Sam’s dick, and at the same time he thrusts, and Sam comes with a shout, body jerking as he shoots all over Dean’s hand.

A few more erratic strokes of Dean’s dick against his ass and then Dean comes too, muffling his own shout into the skin of Sam’s throat, and Sam slumps backwards against him, suddenly boneless. Dean laughs a little breathlessly, wiping his hand on Sam’s shirt, before pulling Sam’s boxers up, tucking him back into his pants, and zipping him up.

“Thanks,” Sam murmurs, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back on Dean’s shoulder again.

“You’re welcome,” Dean says with a chuckle, kissing Sam’s jaw, and then he adds, “Just a second, baby, lemme do mine–”

Sam wriggles forward, giving Dean enough space to zip himself up too. “Gonna be sticky and gross for a while,” Sam says.

“We’ll shower when we get to a motel,” Dean replies, wrapping both arms around Sam’s middle again. “You warm now?" 

Sam grins. "Yeah. You?”

“Mm-hmm,” hums Dean in response, nuzzling his nose just behind Sam’s ear. “Tired, too.”

“Yeah, same,” Sam answers, and then yawns. “Not a bad way to stay warm,” he adds.

“Like I said, can’t argue with science,” Dean replies, grinning as well. “Come on now, go to sleep. I’ll wake you up in a few hours.”

“Mm,” says Sam, and closes his eyes, pulling the blanket up to his chest again from where it had fallen around his knees. “‘Night, Dean.”

“Goodnight, Sammy.”

___

Santa! Oh my goodness. No indeed, I cannot argue with science. Thank you, thank you for this hot Wincesty goodness. I am VERY privileged to have you as my Santa!

[mattzerella-sticks]

Overprotective, Coda to 14x13 “Lebanon” (John Winchester & Castiel centric, with Dean/Cas undertones)

When John was brought back, he thought things would be like they used to with his boys. Then Mary appeared, and he knew things were better.

Except no one is like how he remembered. The clear difference is their willingness to shelter an angel on the belief that it's 'family'. John knows family, and it begins and ends with blood. What happened while he was gone. Castiel can't remember, but he clears things up for John better than anyone else can.

           John was force-fed many things after coming back to life. His father dying at the hands of a demon in the future and had not run away like his mom said. And Sammy, whose favorite catchphrase growing up was “I’m never going to be like you, dad” was now actively hunting and enjoying it. Even Mary coming back to life was easier to swallow since he knew resurrections were possible after experiencing his own. But this – what he’s staring at now – has him choking.

           Dean was adamant John couldn’t gank the creature they’ve now taken into their Bunker. Ready to thrust the blade into its non-beating heart, John ordered a disobedient Dean to stand down. His son ignored him.

           “He’s family,” Dean said.

           John scoffed. “Is that why he attacked us?”

           He didn’t answer John’s question, casting doubtful eyes at the creature behind him. The angel – Cas his son called it, Castiel the creature corrected him – glared, struggling in his handcuffs. “He’s family,” Dean repeated, “And we’re gonna figure out what happened.”

           John didn’t trust it for a second. And Castiel mirrored his feelings. Every action of Dean’s was met with resistance and hesitance, unsure why it was left alive just a little bit longer. But Dean, Sam, and Mary vouched for it. Joked with it, when they could. Dean made a passing comment that made his stomach roil. “Been meaning to get you in cuffs someday, Cas…”

           Something must have happened from placing Castiel in the back of the car and arriving at the Bunker. Sam led it down, the creature railing furiously against him, while Dean trailed behind wearing the most miserable mask John ever saw on him. He only broke those out on special occasions, like Sam leaving them for normalcy or when John confessed his deathbed deal. John wished he imagined the tear that leaked, Dean too slow to wipe it away.

           They set it up in one of the Bunker’s many dungeons. A worn, wooden chair surrounded by holy oil and fire; comforts John believes were too comfortable for the creature. Dean wouldn’t look at him as he trudged away towards the library. Sam went with, after a few minutes verbally sparring with John – ‘There’s the kid I remember raising’. He left, Mary taking the first watch over Castiel.

           His boys figured out what happened, and as were the other problems afflicting the world, it was because of him – of John coming back to life. “The timeline was messed with by bringing dad back – as if he never left. So all of our lives were changed. Ours and everyone we ever met. Us and…”

           “And Cas,” Dean finished, voice strained as if he didn’t want to do so. “Because of one stupid wish…”

           He wanted to scream, to tell his son to screw the angel; that a creature has never made the life of any Winchester better. A creature killed his father, killed his wife, damned his youngest – why feel this much over something that’s encoded to destroy their family? John grunted only half of what he was thinking. Dean turned cold, setting dead eyes on him. When he first came back they were vibrant green, like trees in the midst of spring. Now they were barren oaks suffering through a harsh winter. “You don’t know what Cas has gone through for us… with us… how much he’s changed. How much he means to me… to us.”

           Dean stormed out of the room before John could ask how much meaning there was. He confronted Sam about it. “They’ve always had this,” he shrugged, “What did Cas call it…? A ‘profound bond’; they’re connected, and always have been since Cas rescued Dean from hell… except now he didn’t, in this timeline, so…”

           Mary was less helpful. “I had my doubts at first, but you’ve never seen the real Castiel. Watched him with our boys… with Dean. Maybe you can, if they can figure out to fix the timeline and keep you here. Then you’ll understand.” She kissed him on his cheek, leaving to relieve Dean of his post.

           There was more to the story John wasn’t seeing. And it was made exponentially confusing when he found Dean’s legal pad in the library. He just missed him, his computer still warm and papers strewn everywhere. Trying to show he was ready to be civil, he started cleaning. Written in Dean’s tiny scrawl was a list of people with their names crossed off, little blurbs written next to them.

           Charlie Bradbury – owns her own startup.

           Kevin Tran – graduated Princeton, valedictorian, NEVER PROPHET

           Jody Mills – still sheriff

           Donna Hanscum – still sheriff

           Bobby Singer – still dead

           Ellen Harvelle – dead

           Jo Harvelle – hunter; wanted

           Ash – freakin’ NASA

           Garth – arrested; poor guy

           Claire Novak – MISSING

           Jack – gone…

           CAS

           The tearstains around the creature’s name mocked him. Evidence of the disruption his reappearance caused his oldest son; the conflict warring inside Dean, the casualties all written out for John to see. Having proof of what his act of coming back did to the world, John understood the course he had to take. Saw the road signs telling him to turn off the highway in a few miles.

           Hearing Dean’s footsteps, John scurried away, dropping his list. There were other things for him to do; that needed to be done if this all ended like he was expecting it to.

           Mary wouldn’t leave them alone easily, which he anticipated. But John knew her, and waited for her bladder to give out like any middle-aged mother of two. When she told him she’d be back in less than two minutes, he nodded. Then, when he was sure Mary was far enough away, he locked the door.

           Leaving him alone with Castiel.

           “If you’re going to kill me, then by all means,” it said, “I’m getting rather tired of this.”

           “I’d like that,” John told him, “Nothing would make me happier to stick an angel blade where the sun don’t shine and watch the life drain out of you. But that wouldn’t solve anything…”

           Castiel tilted his head, squinting. “Are you under the delusion that you can get me to ‘remember’ as well?”

           “No, I know you won’t recall anything they’re asking.”

           It sighed. “I wish the others were more like you. Straightforward, cruel… everything we expected of humans. But they… they are so muddled.”

           John’s interest piqued. He stalked closer. “Muddled?”

           “It’s… how do I explain,” Castiel said, “humans give off these wavelengths that angels can pick up on. All the ones that stood guard over me, their minds were clouded with so many… feelings and opinions. And what was surprising was that many of them were about me. About things I have never experienced. The woman tried using kindness, the tallest one joked, but it was the one called Dean…”

           John frowned. “What about my boy?”

           “His longing was the strongest,” Castiel confessed, “the most confusing. So many feelings poured over me every time he entered the room – even now I feel their trace, through the thick, most likely protected walls in my prison. There was so much longing… angels are used to channeling it, but to be the cause, the center, the drive of such emotion is unheard of. It hurt. Being exposed to it for long periods of time, like in that car, caused me great pains! So I –“

           “What did you do?”

           “I shouted at him to stop! That he was out of his depth – living a fabricated lie! Angels know everything, are all-powerful. We’ve seen creation through from the very beginning; have shone in the light of God, himself. Why would they sacrifice that for humans? Why would I turn against everything I knew for one man? Angels are made to serve God not humans – not him. We’re weapons. We have no thought of friendship or love. To love a human would debase ourselves, making us no better than you.”

           Mary banged at the door, begging him to let her in and stop whatever he has planned. He can’t though. John slammed his foot on the gas pedal and hurdled down towards that shiny tunnel. Castiel confirmed a lot in his little tirade. Things John wasn’t willing to accept at first. That differed from the boys he knew and raised.

           ‘But they aren’t who I know anymore,’ he realized, ‘and honestly… I never raised them.’ He impacted their decisions like a heavy shadow hanging over them. But the qualities he saw in his boys now were nothing John had in stock. His sons became better men than him, and any choice they made was right because it was the exact opposite decision he would have come to.

           Overcome with guilt for the first time, John cried.

           Castiel shot him a withered glance. “Of course… you go and become muddled as well.”

           Wiping away the tears, John kneeled down to face Castiel at eye-level. “Listen up,” he started, “I’m only going to say this once. Now, when things get put back right, you might not remember this. Or maybe you will… who knows. Either way, I have to say this, to make things right with my boys.”

           “I don’t know why you’re so important to them, why they let a creature like you become their friend, or why my son decided to fall in love with you even though you’re clearly wearing a man like a cheap suit. And I might never know, because I don’t deserve it. The man who did, he died years ago in a fire up in Lawrence. All that was left for them was a burnt out husk of a man with nothing fueling him for revenge. Figured my boys were nothing but the same. You’re so damn lucky that’s not true.”

           He’s just a man, but it’s clear to him the terror he struck within Castiel. John continued. “I can’t wipe away all my sins, but I can try asking for forgiveness where it counts. Then maybe I’ll deserve that peace I had. But you – you’ll be here with my family. And all I can say… all I ask… is you watch over them.”

           “…What?”

           “Do what I couldn’t do for them. Protect them, show them each day that not every creature is past saving. Keep ‘em tied to their humanity.”

           “I don’t know what you are –“

           “And show Dean the love he deserves,” he whispered back, “Some nights, even back before I died, I did wonder if I robbed him of a normal life. Broke him, and that he could never work right. That’d haunt me almost as bad as Mary’s death and Sam’s affliction whenever the booze ran out. Castiel you performed a miracle and gave him a second chance. I can’t be selfish anymore. I’ve had my shot at happiness… it’s about time he has his. That they all did.”

           “This makes no sense,” Castiel shouted, fighting his chains, “Your prayers… so much grief and guilt… I can’t –“ It carried on like that, even as he spun around to leave. John opened the door.

           Mary barreled in. Eyeing a distraught Castiel, she turned to him. “What did you do?”

           “Casti… Cas and I shared a few words,” he said, “I’m gonna go speak to the boys. And Mary?”

           “Yes, John.”

           “I… I love you.” He dropped a kiss onto her, a gentle brush of their lips before slipping out into the hallway.

           He saved her for last, their goodbye too painful he wouldn’t finish what he had to if he began it there. John still had loose strings to tie up before the fabric of reality was corrected. And he had to work fast so that it wouldn’t completely unravel by the time hew as done. The world asked of him one last time, to prove that there was no one left on it that truly needed him.

           His boys were waiting. Mary was waiting. And so was his Heaven.

[huntertales]

Part One: Your Nerd Is Showing. (LARP and the Real Girl S08E11)

Episode Summary: Sam, Dean and the reader investigate the mysterious deaths of two LARPers who were engaged in a game involving an actual fairy. While digging deeper into the game, the boys discover the queen of Moondoor is a familiar face they met just a few short years ago, an I.T. woman named Charlie Bradbury.  Word Count: 6,140. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

You wanted to say things were finally starting to look up for the better since getting back to your own head space. Sam was back in business with you and Dean, but the decision forced him to leave Amelia along with the happy life he lived a year ago that he was thinking about wanting to have forever. The choice didn't just effect Sam, in order for this to work again, Dean ended his friendship with Benny when it was realized that the vampire only caused more harm than good to keep around. The reason why Dean had kept the brotherly bond going for so long was for the reason that Benny had saved him from that hellhole and felt like he had owed him. You thought saving the vampire’s life twice was enough payment for what he had done. At some point he was going to have to let the past go, all of you had to in order to make room for the future.

You had gotten Cas back just a few weeks ago without a real explanation of how he got pulled out of Purgatory, you wanted to turn a blind eye and pretend that maybe it was the universe spitting him out of a place where he didn't belong. But that didn't seem to be the case when the angel starting acting strange, in a way that you didn’t want him to be around until you figured out what was going on. You were starting to grow happy that he decided to skip out on all of you and kept quiet. Kevin was still trying to figure out how to read his half of the demon tablet, but he wasn't making much progress. You and the boys were left going back to what you knew well, roaming around the country and looking for a case to keep you occupied until something better came along.

You were lying down in the backseat of the Impala, not looking for sleep, just enjoying the peacefulness of the quiet ride you hadn't felt since the arguments and fighting started with the boys. There was nothing better than hearing the rain hit the metal roof as Dean's music played quietly up front. This was what you loved. But what you didn’t particularly enjoy was the feeling of your jeans feeling tighter than you were used to. You knew you were already a few more pounds away from not being able to get into your jeans anymore. And weeks shy of a stomach that wasn’t going to look like you were getting little chubby from eating.

While you were relaxing in the backseat and occupying yourself with the silence, Dean was in his rightful place behind the wheel and his brother in the passenger seat right across from him. Every so often the older man took his attention off the road to steal a glance at you from the rear view mirror to see that you hadn't changed much over the past few hours. He snuck a glance at his little brother from the corner of his eye to see Sam was occupying himself with a map that was illuminated by the small flashlight he was holding. Even Dean could see in the darkness the sullen expression on his brother's face. It wasn't exactly the passive anger he had shown for weeks now, or the regret he was probably feeling from leaving a life he wanted behind. He just looked like he needed some fun to get him back into the swing of things again.

“You okay, man?” Dean asked his little brother.

You moved your gaze away from the window and turned your head slightly forward so you were looking up at the back of the boys' head when you heard Dean's question directed to the younger Winchester. Sam was silent for a moment before he answered. "We have the most powerful weapon we've ever had against demons, and we can't find a way to use it."

“Yeah, well, Kevin’s on it. And when he finds something, he’ll call. So we wait.” Dean said. It was the answer that nobody wanted to hear at this point in the game when you had something big brewing up. Kevin was working his hardest at trying to find anything about closing the gates of hell, but even you had to admit you were growing antsy at finding something. “Look, all of us had a rough go over the couple of weeks. And,uh, I know what you guy up wasn’t easy, Sammy. Maybe we ought to take the night off—go see a flick, hit a bar or two, have some fun.”

"You remember fun, don't you, Sasquatch?" You teased the younger man as you pushed yourself up to a sitting position. You were now leaning against the front seat of the Impala with your head poking between both of the brothers, your attention focused on Sam as you gave him a smile with an arched brow. "Let's squeeze some in before it’s too late.”

Sam knew what you were really talking about from the subtle joke you slid into the conversation, his brother presumed you it was about the closing the gates of hell and the tedious process it was going to bring. You leaned back in your seat when Sam’s phone began ringing. He shoved a hand into his pocket and looked at the caller I.D., and speaking of the prophet, he noticed Kevin’s name pop up on the screen when he looked down at his phone.

“Kevin, what do you got?“ Sam answered the phone thinking it was the prophet, however another voice he hadn’t heard in a couple of weeks. It was the hunter who was in charge of looking after the kid. “Garth. Hey. Really? Okay. Uh, yeah. Thanks, man.” You furrowed your brow slightly in curiosity from the one sided conversation you were hearing Sam have with the other hunter you had only worked with once, and nearly ripped his head off. Garth took over the role of Bobby, checking up on hunters and keeping an eye on the most important person in the supernatural world right now. It seemed from the sounds of Sam’s conversation Garth called to give the three of you a case, however the younger Winchester was caught up with one little factor he couldn’t help himself but ask before he ended the call. “Oh, wait, hey—hey Garth. Garth, are you there?” Sam asked the other hunter. You heard the man on the other line reply with a yeah when you leaned forward in your seat to eavesdrop on the conversation. “How’d you know where we are?” The hunter’s response made your lips stretch into a smile, “You’ve been Garthed.” “Look, it's bad enough that you're tracking us, but it's even worse when you say we've been ‘Garthed.’” Sam said, seeming not amused as you were from the man’s catchphrase that you knew he was going to try and make a thing. The both of them discussed a few more things before Sam ended the call, a sigh falling a second after he hit the end button. “Okay, we got to lose the GPS on our phones, because Garth has been tracking us, and other hunters, apparently, to assign cases.” “Smart. A total Bobby move.” You said. You admitted to Garth straight to his face you never liked the idea of him taking the place of the older hunter who passed. But you came around, and seemed happy at seeing him excelling in the role. “What's the deal?” “Uh, well, it's close—Farmington Hills, Michigan. Dude got ripped limb from limb inside his locked apartment.” Sam told you the details of the case that Garth called about. You winced slightly at the thought while Dean muttered about how that wasn’t good. “Working a case. As long as we're waiting on Kevin, that'll be our fun.” You were tempted to make a remark about how much of a downer he was being at focusing so hard on the job and not letting loose after the tense weeks all of you had. But you stopped yourself when you started to think about things from his point of view. Sam's kind of fun wasn't what you or Dean had in mind, his was left behind in the motel in Texas with a broken heart. He wanted to forget about the life that he left behind and focus on the very thing he was going to be doing for the rest of his life. You had a feeling you wouldn’t be in the mood for anything fun if what you wanted was ripped away from you once again. You knew it was going to take some time for him to adjust to the way things were. And when he was finally over his past maybe you could force a smile on that face of his and make him feel a little bit happier about his choice.

+ + +

The next morning you and the boys headed to the crime scene dressed in your fed clothes to try and see what you might be able to learn yourselves about what could have caused a man to have his limbs ripped apart. You flashed your badge to the officer guarding the door and offered him a smile when he glanced nonchalantly at the identification and nodded his head for the three of you to head inside. The place was still crawling with the forensic team and a few officers going over the crime scene to see what they could learn about what caused a man to be ripped apart limb by limb. You were here for the same reason, but looking for a different type of suspect and evidence to find the killer.

You followed behind the boys as you took a moment to take a look around the apartment of your victim. First thing you noticed was the movie posters on the wall of a certain genre you strayed away from and a complete shelving space dedicated to what appeared to be all sorts of fantasy looking toys. Your observation was quickly cut short when your attention was drawn away from the shield you were looking at and the sheriff that was in charge of this investigation.

“Sheriff. Special agent Taggart.” Sam introduced himself to the older man before directing his arm to Dean and then you. “This is my partner special agent Rosewood and special agent Crane.”

“FBI? You guys are quick.” The sheriff said. It seemed he was expecting the feds at a later date in this investigation, you were a little surprised that you were here so soon as well. You had arrived in Michigan late into the evening and got a few hours of sleep before Sam suggested on getting to the crime scene before any sort of possible readings could be tampered with. “Haven’t even got the body out.”

"Well, the FBI is all work, no play." Dean jokingly said. You knew well enough that the man wasn’t making small talk with the sheriff when he looked over to his brother to give him a smile. It was more of a subtle petty jab. You refrained yourself from rolling your eyes at his childish behavior.

"You know, why don't you give me and agent Crane the tour while our partner looks around?" Sam suggested as he gestured an arm to you. “I like to think her and I work together best.”

"I work better on my own." Dean added.

"Your world, agents." The sheriff said, shrugging his shoulders as he turned around and started to head to the bedroom as he waved a hand for you and Sam to come along. "Follow me."

The three of you exchanged a silent exchange of words from a simple nod of the head. You and Sam followed behind the sheriff as Dean headed into the kitchen that was empty for now, giving him peace to scan the room for any sort of readings. You made your way into the bedroom where the victim had been found murdered in his own bed, all of what remained was an outline of a torso and head that were covered with a white bed sheet. You found yourself staring at the bloody marks left on the sheets of where his limbs used to be before they were ripped off by some unknown force. You knew it had to be psychically impossible for someone to rip off a human limb with some rope and willpower alone. Even if a handful of people were involved in this crime. But there wasn’t much evidence to show that there was anyone at all.

“Vic’s name was Ed Nelson, thirty-one years old, an insurance-claim adjuster.” The sheriff began informing you of the basics on the victim. You continued to look around the room to see there was blood splatter all over the walls. This poor bastard died brutal and bloody. “He lived alone, which was a real shocker, considering his place is full of toys.”  

“So what happened?” You asked the sheriff.

“No sign of forced entry. Near as we can tell, he was tied up and pulled apart. Died of the shock or massive blood loss.” The sheriff said. You could only hope the death of the victim was quick and painless, but the sight of the bedroom and all of his splattered blood made you guess he felt his limbs being ripped out from the socket and skin ripping from his body...you stopped yourself from thinking too much about it, shuddering in disturbance. “Dealer's choice on that one."

“So what about these chains?” Sam wondered as he looked down at the duffel bag lying zipped open with all sorts of clothes still inside, making it look like the victim had just come back from a trip and didn't bother unpacking just yet. You peered closer to see there appeared to be just that, and it looked oddly familiar to you, making you wonder why the victim had some lying around.

“That’s actually chain mail.” The sheriff corrected the younger Winchester. You found yourself giving the sheriff a slightly surprised look as to why your victim, had some medieval hardware packed with his everyday clothing. You got a shrug and a smile from the sheriff. “We did find clear rope-burn marks on his wrists and ankles.”

Sam decided to head over to the victim to see if he might be able to find something that could explain what happened. You followed behind him as he crouched down to the ground to examine the left arm. Lifting up the blanket covering the limb, you hovered over Sam's shoulder to see if there was anything suspicious. And you sure did. You found what appeared to be a mark on the forearm that looked to be an old tree. It could have been a tattoo, but your gut was telling you otherwise when you and Sam made eye contact, both of you presuming it might have meant something more than just some ink.

“So, anything...missing from the body?” Sam asked the sheriff as pushed himself up to his feet.

“You mean aside from the arms and legs? Uh...nope.” He said, chuckling at the man’s odd sounding question “All there—twig and berries, too.”

"What about the neighbors?" Sam continued. "Did they hear anything weird?"

“Uh, neighbor downstairs said she got woke up in the middle of the night by the sound of horses stomping their feet and galloping. We didn’t find any hoof prints. She probably heard a TV or was having a bad dream or she was high as balls. Fortunately, we got a real lead off his cellphone.” The sheriff said, heading out of the bedroom and to the living room area that was just a few steps out of the room. "According to the phone records, Ed's last call was from a guy called Lance Jacobsen. An accountant, also thirties, also lives alone."

Your focus was momentarily cut away from the sheriff for a moment when you saw Dean stepping out of the kitchen. You gave him a subtle look, wondering if he might have found anything useful, but the shaking of his head told you otherwise. You let out sigh and directed your attention back to the older man to ask, "How's he a lead?"

“The two of them talked together for fifteen minutes, and then Lance sent Ex here all kinds of angry texts. Some of them were your typical threat stuff, but some were a little weird.” The sheriff said. Dean wondered what he meant by weird. The sheriff looked down at his notepad for reference and flipped through the pages to find the exact words. “Like, uh…’You small bleed for your crimes against us,’ followed by an emoticon of a skull. And this beauty—’I am a mage. I will destroy you.’”

“Huh.” You mumbled underneath your breath in curiosity from the texts that did sound like they were threatening, but in a context that was a bit odd. “Maybe they were…” Your eyes wandered around the apartment once more as you looked around at the vast array of collectibles from all sorts of sci-fi and fantasy genres. “Talking in a language they could understand.”

“These kids today with their texting and murder.” The sheriff replied. He had to be in his sixties at least from the graying hair and beard, a little too out of touch with what people he would call his grandkids and what they liked to do in their free time. You offered up a polite smile, not exactly sure where he was going with that sentence. "My men just brought Lance into the station for questioning.”

“Well, we’re gonna need to take first crack at the suspect.” Sam said.

“Like I said, agent,” The sheriff repeated what he said once before. “it’s your world.”

The sheriff seemed compliant with whatever you and the boys would need long as you kept up pretending you were FBI and here to help solve the case. Sure, you would have loved to spend a few days relaxing and doing something fun, even though a few of Dean’s suggested activists you couldn’t participate fully in. It was having the three of you back together and enjoying one another’s company was what you really missed. Working a case and finding out what could have ripped a man's limbs off wasn't a bad way to spend your time, either. Long as you and the boys were back together without bickering, you would consider yourself having fun.

+ + +

The drive to the police station wasn't too far from Ed Nelson's apartment, making it a few minute drive before you were heading inside the familiar setting you've seen dozens of times before. When you were pretending to be a federal agent and the rare occasions when you getting in trouble for doing said thing. You and Sam were ready to find out which interrogation room the suspect was being held in, Dean insisted that he needed one more cup of coffee before grilling someone.

While Sam waited around for his brother to fix himself up the drink in a paper cup he found along with creamer and sugar, Dean offered to make you a cup. You agreed to have a hot drink, but changed out the coffee for a cup of decaffeinated tea—one sugar packet and just enough creamer to change the tea into a slightly cloudy color. The creamer had to go first, and then the sugar. Your instructions were a bit odd, that’s what you expected was the reason why Dean was giving you a funny sort of look.

"What's with you lately?" Dean couldn't help himself but ask when he followed your directions to the T and handed over the warm to the touch cup to you. You furrowed your brow slightly as you brought up the paper cup to your lips, feeling the steam tickle your top lip as you blew on the liquid to cool it down. "Normally you’d kill for a cup of coffee. But you haven’t touched the stuff in weeks.”

You felt yourself freezing in your spot from the observation that Dean made about you that you hoped would go unnoticed, or presume it was a reason that wasn't worth mentioning. But you should have known better. Dean was trained in this sort of lifestyle to pick up the small cues that made you...well, you. You managed to keep your cool as Dean stared at you, his eyebrow raising slightly at why you were taking so long to answer. Suddenly you could feel the words "He knows" screaming in the back of your head. You heard of pregnant women getting frazzled and confused while they were carrying, and it seemed you caught the "pregnancy brain" early.

“That’s cause, uh...” Sam jumped into the conversation when he noticed you were starting to look a bit nervous as the seconds started to pass while you tried to think of a good enough of a lie to steer the topic into another direction. Dean gave his brother a slightly confused look as to why he was answering for you. “Y/N told me she hasn’t been feeling well lately. Thought it might have something to do with the drinking and caffeine. I suggested she cut it out for a while to see if she might feel better. You said that Y/F/N wasn’t much of a drinker, right?” "Yeah, I did, actually." You agreed with the white little lie that sounded good in your mind. Sam was smooth at being able to come up with a story right then and there, evening going for the person you were pretending to be to try and cover up any past behavior that might have been suspicious. Dean seemed satisfied with what you fed him as he walked off to throw away the sugar packets and creamer. You let out a sigh of relief as you looked up at the younger man who was now standing next to you. "You know, you’re pretty good at this whole lying thing.”

Sam shrugged his shoulders at the ability to come up with a story in the matter of seconds. What can I say? I've been doing it my whole life. And it’s not the first time I’ve lied to Dean about something…”

“Oh, Sammy. Come on. We talked about this. Try not to bring your gloom while we’re working.” You said, knowing well enough the conversation he was mentioning without even having to speak a single word. You lightly hit him on the chest as you began walking off to the interrogation room with your cup in hand. You looked over your shoulder as you grew a smile and gestured with your free hand for him to grow one of his own. “We’re supposed to be having fun, remember?”

Sam rolled his eyes at your attempt at humor as he followed behind you into the interrogation room where your suspect was waiting since the cops picked him up about an hour ago. You set down your cup as you stood over the metal chair that was directly across from the suspect’s, giving you a chance to greet the man with a friendly smile. He looked up from his folded hands on the table to give you a nervous expression at the sight of not one, but three authority figures here to question him about the death of who he would call soon a friend, despite the texts that landed him here in the first place.

“Lance Jacobson? We’re with the FBI.” Sam was the one who introduced you to the man as he took the seat right next to him as Dean took the one next to you. All of you sat down and got yourselves comfortable for the routine questions you were about to ask him.

“The FBI?” Lance asked. He sounded surprised from his tone of voice at everything happening this morning. Too fast for his brain to comprehend the events all in a row. It would be stressful for anyone in his position. You gave him a moment to process why you were here as you attempted to take a sip of your tea. “I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe Ed's dead.”

You found yourself momentarily stopping yourself from doing nothing when you saw Lance burst into tears as he let out a few hiccuping sobs. A natural reaction for someone who was coming to terms with the death of their best friend. You furrowed your brow slightly as you looked over at Sam, both of you wondering if Lance was a really good actor. Or he was truly mourning the loss of a good friend in front of your very eyes. You furrowed your brow slightly in disturbance as you looked over at Sam who sat next to him, wondering if this was really happening. Not that there was anything wrong with a man crying about his pain, for some reason, you were starting to feel awkward, unsure if you should console him.

“Lance? Lance, just—just breathe.” Dean spoke up, trying to be the one to get the man to focus again for a few minutes so the three of you could ask your questions and head out to continue on with what you needed. Lance managed to compose himself for a few seconds as he lifted his head up to stare at the older Winchester. “Just breathe. You’re fine.”

Lance managed to keep himself together for all of two seconds before he started sobbing again. You took a sip of your drink as you watched the man go through himself at letting out a few more tears before someone tried again to get him back down to reality. "We just need to ask you a few questions." Sam told the man, reassuring him that it wasn't a serious matter quite yet. "Try to calm down."

“We want to know about the texts you sent Ed last night.” You explained to him, watching as he wiped away his tears and half-attempted to compose himself.

“I told them when they brought me in those texts weren’t from me.” Lance said.

You narrowed your eyes slightly as you gave him an expression to show him you weren’t falling for such a weak attempt at his lie. “Well, your phone and Ed’s phone say otherwise.”

"No, I mean, they were from me, but they weren't from me me." Lance attempted to clear up the situation with an explanation to you and the boys that sounded justified in his head. However you found yourself staring at the man across from you with a blank expression. You would admit that you were a little more slower at thinking from the lack of caffeine to kick start your brain. But you had no clue what the hell Lance just said, and what he meant by anything.

“Did you really think that sentence was gonna clear things up?” You asked him.

“I’m sorry. This is all a big misunderstanding. Those text messages were from Greyfox the Mystic to Thargrim the Difficult. Our characters in Moondoor.” Lance attempted one more time to explain himself by giving more details and names that sounded like something straight of a fantasy novel. You found yourself staring into the distance as you tried to think if you had read anything with the names in them while Dean stared at the man with a blank expression, having not a single clue where this was going. "Moondoor is a game that Ed and I play. We're LARPers. Live-action role-playing?"

"Right. LARPing." Dean said, nodding his head. He offered a smile to Lance to show him that he understood all of that part. Good times."

“We play Moondoor every other weekend at Heritage park.” Lance said. “All the info about it is on our website.”

"You guys have a website." You repeated after the man, pretending to sound impressed.

"Yeah, one of the players designed it." Lance said. You were feeling yourself becoming overrun with the urge to start laughing at the man for what he liked to do in his free time. Not that you weren't a stranger by indulging things into things nerdy and what not, you managed to hide your smile as you reached for your cup of tea again. You and Dean looked at each other from the corner of your eye as you exchanged a slight snicker, Sam flashed you a warning glare to knock it off. “In fact, if you log onto the site, they should have posted pictures from last night’s feast. I was there all night.”

“What does any of this have to do with the texts?” Sam asked the man.

"I play a character named Greyfox the Mystic. I'm a very, very powerful mage in the game.” The details Lance gave didn’t clear anything up on what that had to do with anything. You raised your brow slightly as you pretended to be impressed by his alter ego he liked to play as before telling him to continue on. “Ed is…” Lance started to talk about his friend, but he found himself letting out a sigh as he corrected himself. “Ed was Thargrim the Difficult of the Elder Forest, son of Hargim and Bouphin, brother to—” While Lance was going on about the details, he found himself being lost in translation from the familiar blank expressions. "He was Lancelot to my Merlin."

“Ah.” Dean mumbled, finally beginning to understand some of the context of the situation. “Well, if you guys were so tight, then why the threatening messages?”

“We were named to the queen’s honor guard in anticipation of the battles of kingdoms this weekend. I thought he broke protocol, so I called Ed after game hours and accused him of cheating, and then I challenged him to a duel.” Lance said. Sam repeated after the man, wondering himself if he heard the last word correctly. “Wands and swords at dawn.”

"Now, just out of curiosity," You entertained the subject matter as you traced the rim of your paper cup. "When you say 'wands,' do you mean magic wands?"

"No. Un-magic wands, agent. Because what I really want in a duel is an un-magic wand." Lance sarcastically answered your question. You give him a look to show him you were being serious. In this line of work you learned to take everyone's word with a grain of salt. "Yes! Fake wands! It's a game!" You rolled your eyes from his response as you grabbed your cup up from the table to take another long sip of it to try and finish it. Lance thought it was the perfect time to continue on with his mourning that you had momentarily stopped. This time with an extra touch. "I can't believe it. Oh, ye gods! Thagrim the Difficult has fallen!”

Lance tilted his head up to stare at the ceiling for a second, Dean found himself following the man's gaze, wondering if there was something around that he couldn't see. The man burst into tears once more as he started to sob once again. You blinked as you watched him go through himself, not sure what you could do to make him...stop. You decided your time was done here and got up from your seat. However you couldn't leave him just yet crying like this. You awkwardly patted him on the shoulder, telling him that everything was going to be okay.

You and the boys headed out so Lance could grieve in privacy, what there was from the two way mirror and the security cameras. But you had good a feeling that wasn’t going to be much of a problem for him. You let out a sigh when you were finally back into the main area of the police station. Sam shut the door behind him as the three of you tried to make sense of what just went down.

"So?" Sam asked the both of you. "Do you believe Dungeons and Dragons?"

"I've seen a lot of people cry in my time from my time growing up and hunting. Those weren't crocodile tears, guys." You said. "That's not our guy.”

“So what are we looking at?” Sam wondered.

“You and Y/N saw the chain mail.” Dean said. “This could be ‘Fifty Shades of Grey Fox’ for all we know.”

“All right, well, let’s check out the Moondoor site,” Sam suggested. “see if Lance’s story checks out.”

You and the boys headed to the nearest available computer to see what you could find out in the quick search that it would take. You sat yourself down at the computer and pulled up a new internet browser. It took only a few seconds before you were at their homepage that looked pretty impressive and well put together. "'Welcome to Moondoor, Michigan's largest LARPing game.'"

“And here I thought we needed to get out more.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. His remark made you let out a quiet chuckle as you clicked on the photo gallery to see what you might be able to find and what this whole thing was all about.

You pulled up the pictures that must have been posted this morning. A slideshow of what appeared to be Lance in his costume seemed nothing more than some Renaissance fair. He seemed like he was having the time of his life with a grin on his face and women crowding around him. Part of you felt like this was something that from the outside looked like it was only for the type of people who occupied their parents' basements as teenagers playing their games of Dungeons and Dragons and watched Star Wars religiously. The people who found a safe haven in a fantasy world while in reality they were being shoved into lockers and teased for what they liked.

You would consider yourself a bit of a nerd. You enjoyed reading at every possible second you could get and prided yourself on the knowledge you worked hard on to discover, along with many other talents that were a bit useful while hunting. But you never quite had the problem of being labeled as a nerd. Sure, Dean had muttered the insult here and there, but you knew deep down he was one himself. It seemed his curiosity was peaked at what he saw. And you knew it wasn't because he saw Lance being kissed by two different women on the cheek, showering him with affection.

“Huh.” Dean mumbled, pretending to be only half-interested. “It actually looks kind of awesome.”

Sam gave his brother a look from the corner of his eye as you let out yet another quiet chuckle. "All right, there's a video." You said, pushing the mouse over to click on it. "Let's see what this is all about."

"Moondoor. A world of intrigue, honor, passion." You dropped your hand to the desk as you watched the video begin by opening up to a man who was dressed in a replica outfit that almost one like a knight before leading to a few shots of all sorts of people dressed in costumes, along with a blacksmith. You raised your brow slightly as the narrator continued on introducing the groups of people. "Four kingdoms—Followers of the Moon, Elves, Warriors of Yesteryear, and the dreaded Shadow Orcs. All will fight on the fields of Never in the biannual battle of kingdoms. PIck up a sword or a mace. Take control of Moondoor and defend the current ruler…”

The video played on with shots of the fake kingdoms of people and their respected outfits that differentiate them from others. And like every good kingdom needed a queen. You watched as the video cut to what appeared to be a knight handing a bouquet of flowers to a woman dressed in her respected crown and throne. You silently thought to yourself about how pretty her dress was, however your gaze was quickly shifted from her outfit and to the actual woman on the screen.

“Wait, is that…” Dean found himself taken back at a face that seemed all too familiar.

You watched as the shot of the woman zoomed in closer, giving a shot of the redhead as she smelled the bouquet of white flowers and stared into the lens, giving him a smile. “The Queen of the Moons.”

You hit the spacebar on the keyboard, stopping the video from playing anymore. With the video paused on the queen's face, you looked over your shoulder and pointed a finger at the screen, suddenly overcome with curiosity how they had met this woman before. And you had a feeling there was a good story behind this. "You know her?"

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[ask-joeydrewstudios]

#BendyHTtakeover Recap

((so I’m gonna compile all the Good Shit from the #BendyHTtakeover event into one post okay here we goooo))

Sammy has been writing music for most of his life, "from a young age [...] tunes would pop into my head, [writing music] was the only logical step. ;)"

“Willow Weep For Me” is Sammy’s favorite song, he apparently considers it modern. what time period does this game take place in jfc

Sammy made a handful of puns during the event. Puns are great.

Apparently he liked Bacon Soup at one time, but “it kind of lost its luster after a bit.. But you’d have to be crazy to not love chocolate cake!”

Putting on pants is apparently a struggle for him.

Someone asked if Norman was behind the organ from chapter 2. He responded with “The organ... I don’t know what you mean. Although Norman, our projectionist, he was always very bright..” which might be a hint to something, a compliment, or another pun - who knows.

An ad for a Little Mermaid bedspread got posted in the middle of the event, probably on accident. Someone joked “Sammy’s favorite Disney Princess is Ariel, confirmed.” All he had to say was something was amiss with the post, and the bed looked comfortable.

Sammy still writes and sings music when he’s not praising Bendy, and has written “so many dozens of songs! So many! When you’ve been in this business as long as I have... you’re quite busy.” He also said “Perhaps you shall hear them someday.” pls

His clearest memory of the studio besides the ink pump is “a whistling sound, a vague melody.. with a sinister purpose.”

When asked for advice on composing music, he responded “Music is all about layers. Rich and lush. Practice, my friend. That’s what it’s all about!”

Wally’s catchphrase is apparently contagious. Someone asked “Sammy, what would happen if Wally lost his keys again?” To which he responded, “That Wally! That man can’t ever keep his things in order! If I didn’t know better I’d say his mind was wayyyyy out of here!”

Headcanon confirmed, “Sheep Songs” is Sammy’s favorite song he wrote for the Bendy cartoons.

He wears the mask to “resemble the most perfect form I know!”.

He might not be able to see without the mask as well, someone later asked “how do you see with that mask?” and he replied “how do you see without yours?”. Might have just been a joke, or confirming the “ink monsters can see through Bendy’s eyes in cutouts and posters” theory.

Sammy thinks Susie is “A charming woman.. quite... charming.. I recall only her face... that.. smile.”

He took some selfies for us.

Someone asked how he felt after what happened to him at the end of chapter 2. “I can’t recall any injustice on the part of the Ink Demon. He is.. most fair.” Apparently he’s fine with being pancake’d.

“Who’s better? Bendy, Alice, or Boris?” “There is only our lord Bendy.”

What makes Bendy so worshipable is that “[He] knows all and sees all. He is the hope we’ve been waiting for!”

"The last I can recall... I had a flowing cascade of brown hair.. I miss it so... or was it blonde? No matter.. it was splendid.”

He regrets never going to Coney Island.

Someone asked what he thinks of Alice “Ohhh such a voice! So.. heavenly! So beautiful!” Tied with his earlier comment about Susie, this makes Samsie shippers such as myself rejoice.

He is honored that people write songs about him, and Bendy.

He doesn’t only make puns, he memes. According to him, “if you have the proper training, mayonnaise IS an instrument.”

His favorite instrument is the banjo, he was always fond of it and it “plucks the right chord with me”

He thinks bacon soup can be good, “it’s best when aged for a while I hear.”

He’s happy Joey let him name the song “Sammy Jam” after himself.

Someone asked if he had a special someone before becoming an ink monster. His answer was a flustered “Someone.. special? ... I.. well.. there was.. this one. I almost remember.”

He doesn’t quite know where Joey is, but he thinks he’s off raising his salary somewhere.

He doodles Bendy sometimes.