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kahran042 · 1 year ago

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Adrian's Adventures in Time!

Lately, I've been wondering what one of my OCs would do if they were chosen to take the place of the protagonist in Pepper's Adventures in Time, so I decided to go with Adrian "The Anti-Fraggle" Bernhardt because I can't imagine any of my OCs who's less like Pepper, but still has a beloved pet. I hope I didn't make him too unlikable here, but considering who he's interacting with… at any rate, enjoy, and let me know what you think!

Adrian: Uh-oh. Liberty Bell? Hare Krishnas? This looks familiar. I'm… trapped in Pepper's Adventures in Time, perhaps one of the worst edutainment products ever released! NOOOOO! Narrator: Out of curiosity, how do you know about Pepper's Adventures in Time? Adrian: Mom got it for Kiera when she was nine. She didn't like it, either, and we made fun of it together once.

Narrator: FALSE. No way! These guys are totally un-colonial. The Hare Krishnas, a cult stressing devotion to the Hindu god Krishna, first appeared in the United States in 1966, and they DIDN'T crack the Liberty Bell. The Liberty Bell was actually cracked at the foundry or forge. Adrian: No, it wasn't. (the words "GRATUITOUS EDUCATIONAL CONTENT" flash on screen for the remainder of this dialogue tag) They wouldn't have let a cracked or broken bell out of the forge. The Liberty Bell was forged by abolitionists to be rung whenever a slave was freed, but because said abolitionists were almost as cynical as yours truly, it was made of substandard materials, and it was cracked by its own clapper while being rung sometime in the early 19th century. Narrator: Well, excuse me, Professor Know-It-All. By the way, that was a demonstration of the Truth Icon. Use it often! Now back to Pep--er, Adrian's Adventures in Time…

Poor Richard: Prithee, lass--my, but thy clothing is odd! Oh, I am rude. I do not mean to offend, stranger. Prithee, have mercy! Adrian: Okay, you have to be one of the ugliest people I've ever seen. And I'm not a lass. Poor Richard: I have commited no crime, lass, and my name's not O'Kay. My ancestry is English, not Irish. Poor Richard, at thy service. Adrian: If you haven't commited a crime, then why are you in the stocks? Poor Richard: Well, 'tis a long story, but I am at thy mercy. You see, something awful has happened to Benjamin Franklin. He once led the people of our fair city to be wise and good and frugal. Now he gives them ridiculous, silly advice, and they follow like a flock of sheep! Adrian: If you ask me, it's what they deserve for never learning to think for themselves. Poor Richard: Foolishness and frivolity rule our once fair colony, thanks to Ben! Adrian: Ben probably isn't totally innocent, but like I said, if the colonists weren't so stupid, none of this would have happened. Poor Richard: For pointing out their folly, my friends and neighbors have clapped me into these stocks. Please, lass, I need thy help most desperately! Adrian: For the third time, I'm a lad, not a lass. And why should I let you out? You could be lying about being innocent. Poor Richard: But thou must! Adrian: Well, maybe I just don't feel like it. Poor Richard: But thou must! Adrian: This is starting to seem familiar. Poor Richard: But thou must! Adrian: … Poor Richard: But thou must! Adrian: … Poor Richard: But thou must! Adrian: …FINE. I'll let you out. does so

Narrator: It's Terra! Twenty-two ounces of musteline attitude, and LOTS of teeth!

Watchman: Here now! I saw what you did! You let that criminal go! Adrian: To be fair, he wore me down with incessant "but thou must"-ing. Terra: starts sniffing the watchman's feet Watchman: I'm the King's own watchman, I am, and you're under arrest! Adrian: For what? For tampering with the King's justice, for outlandish dress, and--HEY! Yer a girl, are ye not?!? Adrian: Trust me, you're not the first person to make that mistake. Watchman: Ye can't fool me, you're a girl! You're also charged with wearing trousers in public! C'mere, you! Let's just empty those pockets! Watchman: tries to grab Adrian Adrian: dodges the grab, then throws the watchman to the ground with a swift nagewaza Narrator: Adrian wins. Flawless victory. Adrian picks up Terra, who is sniffing at the unconscious watchman Adrian: And now we just need to find some way back to our own time. C'mon, girl. Wait, what's that!? A carriage pulls up, and Adrian hides in a nearby alleyway. Suddenly, a cat appears out of nowhere, and Terra leaps out of Adrian's arms and starts doing the weasel war dance Adrian: Terra! NO! Terra bumps her head on the side of the carriage and faints Pugh: Oh, bother, what is it now? Some snot-nosed colonial brat, I suppose. I just had these wheels polished, you know. Percy: It appears to be some sort of cat…snake…thing, General Pugh, sir. Ima: A kitty! Oooooh! The watchman enters Watchman: 'Ay! Has anyone seen a strangely clad young girl about? She's a felon, and that rat-like creature over there is her accomplice! Adrian (thinking): Wait. Didn't I just kick that guy's ass? Percy: Well that hardly matters, does it, you malodorous fellow. That cat snake is dead. Watchman: It is not! It's just stunned, it is! Percy: See here now, man, that creature is stiff as a board! Watchman: That creature was stiff before it ever hit your carriage! See there, he's looking at you! Hello, whatever kind of creature you are! Percy: It is NOT looking at me because it CAN'T look at me! That cat snake has perished! It is deceased! Defunct! It is an EX-CAT SNAKE! Adrian (thinking): Judging by their desecration of a classic comedy routine, I'm assuming that these are the bad guys. Hope Terra's all right. Terra gets up Watchman: See! I told you! I told you! Percy: Oh, why don't you just shut your gob and find this mysterious girl, you fatwit! Watchman: Yes, sir! Right away, sir!

Adrian: Why hasn't anyone done anything about that bastard General Pugh? Quibble: Because everyone in this town is a spineless coward, that's why. Have you ever seen more worthless men in your life? Victor: Who asked you, toots? Anyway, there WERE some people who wanted to get rid of him. Especially Ben Franklin! But when he changed his mind and said "Everybody do your own thing", I guess we all changed our minds, too. Quibble: That would be a nice theory, dear, if you had a mind to change. Adrian: Hey, you stole my line! At any rate, you aren't doing your own thing. You're still marching in lockstep with Ben. Victor: Zip it, babe. Quibble: In your dreams, weasel boy. Adrian: What's with all your weasel-bashing? If Terra were here, I'm sure that she would be deeply offended.

Adrian: What's your name? Quibble: I'm Quibble Quabble, and this thing is the love of my life, Vicar Victor Bicker. Adrian: I'm sorry to hear that. Your parents must have really hated you… both of you, actually. Victor: I can speak for myself, dearest. Quibble: Put a cork in it, dearest. Adrian (thinking): Yeah, yeah. Just fuck and make up, already.

Adrian: What's up with Ben Franklin? I've heard that he might be disturbed. Quibble: Oh, Ben's not disturbed! He's really cool. He's the one who taught us to, you know, let all your feelings out. Adrian: …Because Ben would normally support repressing one's emotions? Victor: "Ben"? "Cool"? You like him, don't you, Quibby! You have a crush on Ben Franklin! I knew it. I just knew it! Quibble: Helloo! Why don't you come and live in this world with us, Victor? Ben is married! Geez. Adrian: Never stopped Ben.

Adrian: Why hasn't anyone done anything about the Pughs? Quibble: Hey, they're a pain and all, but most of us have our own problems. We don't have time to save the world from British generals, you dig? Victor: What, you're too busy doing your nails? You have no sense of social injustice, Quibby. Quibble: Oh, go tell it to the chickens in the henhouse, weasel-boy! Adrian: Seriously, at least TRY to come up with some new insults.

Narrator: TRUE. Most colonial women sewed clothes for themselves and their families, but upper-class women often had their sewing done elsewhere. They had really important things to do, like painting china and learning to dance. Adrian: But would a colonial shop really be called "Ye Olde Sew and Sew"?

Narrator: TRUE and FALSE. Colonial bakeries certainly had signs, but they didn't have names like "Ye Olde Sprouts and Rice". The concept of health food wasn't around yet. Adrian: So, you'll point out the anachronism of a health food store in 1764, but not the inherent anachronism of a store in olden times being called "Ye Olde Whatever"? Narrator: Come to think of it, that's actually a wicked good point. Adrian: Thanks. Wait a minute. What do you mean, "actually"?

Tattle: Hello? Oh, 'tis a fine young girl. Can I help you, lass? Adrian: Where do I start? I'm lost in time, the Pughs stole my ferret, everyone seems to think that I'm a girl, and I don't know what to do. Tattle: Now, just relax, lassie. My name is Tattle Taleteller, and I know everything about everyone! Just tell me what you want to know! Adrian: I said this to that other lady, too, but your parents must have really hated you, even more than mine hate me. Also, I am not a "lassie". I'm 100% man, despite my androgynous charm.

Adrian: Have the Pughs always been like this? Tattle: Oh, yes! When old Hugh Pugh I was here, things were even worse. I guess we're just lucky that Hugh Pugh II spends so much time powdering his wig instead of making us miserable! Adrian (thinking): That has got to be an innuendo. Wait, did they even have innuendos in colonial times? No, they must have had them. After all, Shakespeare used them.

Adrian: Ima Pugh stole my ferret! Have you heard anything about that? Tattle: What's a ferret? Adrian: It's pretty much hamster hardware running cat software. Tattle: Oh, that's right. I heard just a little while ago that the Pughs got a new pet. I'm so sorry, little girl! You'll forget about him, in time. Adrian: In case you haven't noticed, I'm not a girl. And my ferret isn't a "him", for that matter. At any rate, I can't just forget her. She's one of the four things I love. Tattle: Oh, didn't you know? Animals who go into Penn Mansion NEVER come out, dearie. At least not…the same way.

Adrian: What can you tell me about Ben Franklin? Tattle: Ben is perfectly fine. After all, he did give us the excellent Doctrine of Personal Mellowness and all. But that's not the whole story, no ma'am! I heard that Ben and his wife Deborah are having problems! Yes ma'am, she's always leaving the house to go somewhere! SOME people say she's seeing another man. Adrian: Hey, what's a relationship without a bit of mutual adultery? Tattle: SOME people say it's that Poor Richard! Adrian: Poor Richard? Having sex? With another human being? Right, and I'm Matthias Corvinus, King of Hungary and Croatia.

Narrator: TRUE. A colonial bakery might have been run by a woman. It didn't happen that often, but it wasn't unheard of. Adrian: Yes, but that's not a woman. It's some sort of anthropomorphic pig creature.

Adrian: Can you help me? Goody: Certainly, child! What do you need? Some soy flour? Some tofu? A nice cabbage cookie, perhaps? Adrian: No, thank you. shudders Goody: Well, you don't seem to be affected by the mass lunacy that's plagued this colony! I believe you actually shuddered at the mention of tofu! Adrian: It was the cabbage cookies that made me shudder. Honestly, I kind of… like tofu if it's cooked right. I'm guessing you haven't been affected by this "mass lunacy" either, then? Goody: No, thank heavens. Nice to meet you. I'm Goody Gumdrops, and I own this once fine establishment. If there's anything I can do for you, let me know. Adrian (thinking): And that's three! Three women in this town with unbelievably stupid names! At least this one seems nice enough.

Adrian: Is it true that Ben Franklin is responsible for the weirdness going on here? Goody: It is! He came into town dressed like a fool, all covered in beads. Then he started passing out his foolish Doctrine of Personal Mellowness. Adrian: Hey! Don't insult fools. That's the freakin' 0th Major Arcana of the Tarot you're talking about. Goody: My friends and neighbors BELIEVED it! Before I knew it, they were ALL dressed like Ben! Adrian: Has it occurred to you that your friends and neighbors might be mindless sheeple who can't think for themselves? Goody: Then they started talking strangely. Everything was "Groovy". And it gets worse! They all stopped working, and developed bad habits almost instantly! Now they're all as worthless as a bunch of lame oxen! Adrian: Sounds like it's butchering time. Goody: You seem like a sensible lass. You should go to Ben's house and try to talk him out of this foolishness. May you have more luck than I did. Adrian: I'm not a lass. And wouldn't it be a better idea to teach these idiots to actually think instead of just blindly following what Ben tells them?

Adrian: Was this always a health-food store? Goody: Heavens, no! You could get anything you wanted here, from strawberry tea cakes, to airy cream puffs, to chocolate bonbons! Adrian: Anything except healthy food, apparently. realizes he's drooling, wipes his mouth Goody: When the town went mad, they stopped eating sugar! All they wanted was tofu and brown rice! They BURNED my bonbon recipe! Adrian: Yeah, totally sounds like the "let it be" attitude of the hippie movement. These are clearly not normal hippies. They're poorly-written strawman hippies created with the express purpose of initiating a tedious fetch quest! Goody: They even made me change the name of my store from "Goody's Delectable Delights" to "Ye Olde Sprouts and Rice". HMMPH! Adrian: Both of those names sound pretty anachronistic, if you ask me. Goody: I can't even get chocolate anymore. Oh, how I miss the smell of baking chocolate! Adrian: By "baking chocolate", do you mean chocolate made for baking or chocolate that's being baked?

Narrator: A swarm of pesky flies are buzzing around Goody's shop. Adrian: Shouldn't that be "A swarm of pesky flies IS buzzing around Goody's shop"? And isn't "pesky flies" redundant?

Adrian: Did you say you were a gamer? Roland: Indeed I am, lass! My name's Roland Bettmuch, and games are my life. Interested in a game of chance, or a game of skill? Poker, perhaps? Adrian: You do know that poker won't be invented until 1829, right? And I'm not a lass. Roland: Oh, drat. Those uncool Pughs took my deck of cards. Darts? No, they took those too. Let's see, what do I have… Jacks? No. Chess? No. Checkers? No. Horsehoes? No… Hey, I know, do you have a horse? Adrian: No, but-- Roland: Total bummer! My aura is turning dark! Adrian (thinking): ♪ Without your light, and I will sing no requiem tonight. ♪ Roland: Oh, wait, I know. We'll play marbles. I've got them right here… Adrian: This had better not be going where I think it's going. Roland: AAAAAH! I'VE… Adrian: Finish that sentence, and you'll regret it. Roland: If you find them, let me know, okay? Later, Cosmic Cat.

Adrian: Here are your stupid marbles. That will be one shilling, please. Roland: Ha ha ha! You are a little sharpie, aren't you, kid! Tell you what. You give me the marbles, and I'll teach you to gamble with the best of 'em. Adrian: No. No money, no marbles. Roland: MONEY?!? But kid, where's the sport in that? Where's the action? Where's the thrill of the Game? Don't you have the Game in your heart? Adrian: Yes. My games are Magic: The Gathering and Super Smash Bros. I need a shilling to get back to a time when those games exist. Now hand it over. Roland: Oh, all right. Here's a shilling. It's all I have, you little robber. Adrian: Thanks. Roland: Oh, go fly a kite. flicks a shilling to Adrian, who catches it Adrian: Way to get crap past the radar! I hate to say it, but thumbs up.

Adrian (thinking): Wow, and I thought that baker lady was fat. Lee: Yes? (Chomp munch) What can I do for you, lass? (Belch!) Would you perhaps like to groove on a nice leg of lamb? (Urp) Adrian: No, thanks. I'm not really hungry, and I'm not a lass. What I'd-- Lee: WHAT?!? Not HUNGRY? (Whuff!) Good grief, girl, how can you not be HUNGRY? I'm hungry all the time. Adrian: Like I said, I'm not a girl, and I'm too sad to eat. My ferret has been kidnapped. Lee: Hmmph! I never understood the point of having a pet. They just eat all your food, and they never bring you more. (Ack) But I suppose you are upset. Poor lass. Adrian: For the third time, I'm a guy. And you could help me by answering a few questions… Lee: Oh, certainly! (Belch!) By the way, my name is General Lee Stuffed, retired from His Majesty's Royal Army. So what do you want to know about, lass? Adrian (to himself): One. As I believe I've told this idiot three times now, I'm not a lass. Two. It's the British Army, not the Royal Army. Three. It's good to know that unbelievably stupid names aren't reserved for women in this town.

Adrian: My ferret was stolen by the Pughs! Penny: I'm telling you, girl, a person has to protect his or her property. I suggest you get a cannon for home protection. Adrian: Guns are for idiots who are too stupid and lazy to learn to use real weapons or martial arts. Besides, I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want my ferret back and to go back to my own time. And I'm a boy, not a girl. Penny: Oh, you can forget that. Those Pughs never let go of an animal, once they have it. Totally bad karma, little dudette. Adrian: If you're going to get my gender wrong, you can at least learn the correct vocabulary. The feminine form of dude is "dudine", not "dudette".

Adrian: My ferret was just snatched right out from under my nose. I don't know what to do. Are there any cops in this town? Penny: Cops? I don't follow your groove, kid. What's that mean? Adrian: Oh, you know, people who are nominally intended to make sure people aren't breaking the law, but are in fact more invested in upholding the status quo. Penny: Oh, THOSE cats! Well, there are those awful redcoat sentries all over the place--have you ever noticed how they all look alike? Adrian: Well, that is kind of the purpose of uniforms, hence the name. Penny: Anyway, General Pugh owns those dudes. They're useless. Adrian (sarcastically): A general commanding soldiers? What a twist. Penny: So is the Watchman, for that matter. The Pughs bribed him as soon as they got to the colonies, and he does anything they want. Adrian: Does the Watchman have a name, or is he just "the Watchman"? At any rate, I kicked his ass once, and I can probably do it again if needed. Narrator: NOTE--The Watchman will not be seen again for the rest of this game, so it will not be needed.

Adrian: Can you tell me anything about yourself? Penny: Well, as long as you're not trying to sell me anything, I guess I can. My husband's name is Eggbert. We own this carpentry shop. Adrian: Eggbert Pyncher? It's a terrible name, but at least it's not a pun. Penny: We used to spend our money on all kinds of foolish things, like food and clothes and things. Now I've discovered the virtues of saving! Adrian (thinking): Lesson learned. Thrift will turn you into a timophiliac straw miser. Penny: I can make a week's worth of soup out of one cabbage! I save every penny, every single one! Adrian (sarcastically): And I'm sure what you do with those pennies is totally family-friendly. Penny: Ben Franklin says it's okay, so it's okay! Adrian: Isn't Ben Franklin the one who said "A penny saved is a penny earned"? Of course, Adrian M. Bernhardt is the one who added "…but you can't buy jack shit with a penny" to that particular pearl of wisdom.

Narrator: The brass plaque by the collar says: "My beloved Fluffum Foo, All I did was shampoo you. Shave your paws, Pierce your nose. Put rings upon your little toes, So why oh why did you run away, And jump into the sea that day?" Terra may only have a tiny little ferret brain, but even she knows that Pennsylvania is landlocked, so she wonders how Fluffum Foo jumped into the sea that day.

Adrian: Can I see your husband? Deborah: No. Adrian: But I really need to see him. Deborah: No. Adrian: But, you don't understand. I'm trapped in 1764, and my ferret's been kidnapped by the Pughs! Somehow, I know that I need Mr. Franklin's help to rescue her and get back to my own time. Deborah: Lass, I'm truly sorry about your "ferret", whatever that is, and there WAS a time when Ben could have helped you, but not now. He can't even help himself. He's gone 'round the bend, filling the colonists' head with all sorts of silly mush. I'm allowing him no visitors. If I let you in to see him, he'd just be a bad influence on you, too. Adrian: As I believe I've told everyone in this fucking colony by now, I'm not a lass. And since I'm not a dumbass like the rest of the colonists, I could be a good influence on Ben. But you'll never know unless you let. Me. In. Deborah: If you could help Ben, get him interested in his experiments, perhaps I'd let you in. I'm sorry, but you have to leave now. Goodbye. Adrian: How the fuck am I supposed to help Ben if I'm not even allowed to see him? Deborah: That's your problem. slams the door in Adrian's face

Adrian: Please, Mrs. Franklin, if you'll just let me-- Deborah: ABSOLUTELY NOT! slams the door in Adrian's face Adrian (thinking): Are all women named Deborah such bitches? Because she reminds me of a slightly less evil version of my mother. Come to think of it, she looks sort of like that Poor Richard guy, but not quite as ugly. Hmm…

Narrator: TRUE. Ben loved sunlight and fresh air, and would never live anywhere that he couldn't have a window. Many people in the 18th century felt that outside air, particularly night air was bad for you and caused illness. Ben didn't believe that. Sometimes he took what he called "air baths", where he would lie outside in the shade naked. Adrian: Hey, my girlfriend Karin does that… except that she's not naked… and she does it at night… and she calls it "moonbathing". So, I guess it's completely different, then. Narrator: Shame that she's not naked, eh? Wait, is she hot? Adrian: Frankly, it's none of your business whether or not my girlfriend is hot. I love her, she loves me for some reason, and that's all that matters. She's one of the three reasons I want to get back to the present so badly. Narrator: What are the other two, if you don't mind my asking? Adrian: My sister Kiera and my car Alcyone. Narrator: You have a sister? Is SHE hot? Adrian: …She's FIFTEEN. If I could find you, I would punch you in the face right now.

Narrator: For the answers to the following questions, look in your documentation on page 19. Adrian: Ah, copy protection. My old arch-enemy. Narrator: I thought I was your arch-enemy? Adrian: I have a life outside of you, unnamed narrator.

Adrian: I found a schematic for your Kite/Key experiment. Could you show me how it works? Adrian (thinking): He said, fully aware of how it works. Ben: Well, after I've had my nap, perhaps. On second thought, I don't think I'll feel like it. This water is so cold, it's ruining my relaxation. Adrian: Despite the fact that it's obviously boiling? Let me guess, you want me to get you some hot water. Ben: Well, I…hot water, eh? This tub is really getting cold. All right, sure, kid! I'll do whatever you say if you get me some more hot water.

Narrator: Adrian wants to get into the tub, but more importantly, he wants to rescue his ferret.

Sally: What is it you need, lass? Adrian: I'm a lad, not a lass. And I need these fucking matches to light the fucking fire to get fucking hot water for your fucking dad so he'll show me his fucking Kite/Key experiment. Sally: Whyfore, friend? Adrian: Didn't I just explain it? I need to light the fire. Sally: Forgive me, friend, but I think not. My mother gave me strict instructions not to light the fire. I'm not to give Father any hot water, you see. Adrian: But did she say I can't give him any hot water? Sally: Mother said the only reason I should light the fire was "in case of an emergency". Thank you for your kind offer, anyway. Adrian: That… doesn't answer my question.

Adrian: What's with your parents, anyway? They seem almost as bad as mine. Sally: Oh! I, uh, I'm worried about them, of course. Papa has been so strange, of late, and Mama is always gone. Adrian: Any thoughts on your brother being a Loyalist? Sally: I have a brother? Adrian: Well, I guess not in this particular timeline…

Adrian: How long has this been going on? Sally: Not long, lass. Just a fortnight ago, he was in his workroom writing, when I heard him cry out. I came in to see--and he was lying on the floor! I lifted his head, calling out his name. To my relief, he opened his eyes! Then he said, "Groovy, star child!" (Sigh.) He hasn't been the same since. Adrian: Wait. Did you actually say the word "sigh" instead of sighing?

Adrian: Thanks again for dinner. Young Ben: I'm glad you enjoyed the mush, my friend. Mother would have made roast beef if she had been expecting you. Adrian: Pro tip…to make it seem more appetizing, call it "oatmeal" or "porridge" instead of "mush". Young Ben: 'Pro tip'? You say things strangely, friend. But speaking of sweating, I'd better start making candles. The Night Watch put in a huge order this morning, and they'll be expecting them tonight. Ugh, the smell! I HATE candlemaking! Adrian: Night Watch? Sounds pretty cool, kind of like something out of a fantasy novel. Young Ben: The Watch will pick them up here. I'll just light the fires, get out the wicks, and then-- OH, NO! Adrian: What? Young Ben: Shh! I forgot to buy wicks in town today! My father'll skin my hide if he finds out! I'll just sneak back out for a few minutes, and-- Adrian (thinking): …'Skin my hide'? Paging the Department of Redundancy Department. Josiah: Benjamin? Young Ben: (Yikes!) Y-Y-Yes, father? Josiah: You did buy wicks when you were in town, didn't you? Young Ben: Uh, well, I… Josiah: Benjamin Franklin, if you forgot again, so help me, I'll switch you 'til you can't sit down for a fortnight! Adrian (thinking): Wow, that's pretty damn harsh. And I thought my parents were bad! Young Ben: Uh, just a moment, father, I'm looking for them… Friend, I don't suppose you have any wick, do you? I'll be eternally grateful if you can help me! Adrian (thinking): Yeah, right. 'Eternally grateful'… and I'm a sea monkey. But yet, I can't help feeling an urge to help him out. After all, his dad makes my mom look like… Karin.

Adrian: Some people might say Ben Franklin is the cause of all this, but I'd say that it's more the fact that the other colonists are spineless idiots who can't even use the chamber pot without Ben showing them how to do it. That being said, was his change gradual or sudden? Poor Richard: Oh, it was sudden! The old gent fell over, and when he got up he had all these wild ideas in his head! Uh, or so his wife tells me. He's my--my oldest friend. His plight grieves me more than I can say, as does the fact that I have to speak against him publicly.

Adrian: Is there any way you could let me have that key? I need it to rescue my ferret and get out of this crappy-ass time period. Poor Richard: I will give thee the key, if thou will help me distribute these proverbs. I fear the time is growing short. Adrian: Proverbs? You mean "clichés", right? Poor Richard: A proverb is a saying that points out the error of a person's ways. I hope they'll cure my fellow colonists of their follies. Will'st thou help me? Adrian: I have a better idea. You give me the key, and I don't snap your neck like a toothpick. Poor Richard: Such is my offer, lass. Adrian: For the millionth time, I am not a lass. And there is no way in fucking hell that I'm brainwashing these idiots with your stupid "proverbs". They're already brainless enough, thank you. Poor Richard: Read each proverb, and judge which colonist could learn the most from it. Adrian: No. You see, according to string theory, time is composed of fixed points, so altering history would only create a secondary timeline where America is still part of the United Kingdom, and my timeline would remain unaffected. I have no interest in how this particular timeline turns out, so I have no investment in forcibly "improving" the colonists. I just want to save my ferret and go home, and I need that key to do so. Poor Richard: But thou must! Adrian: Fine, fine, I'll do it.

Adrian: Here. It's a proverb. I'd suggest giving it away. That's what I did. snickers Quibble: A present? For me? Oh, how sweet! Let's see what it says. "Quarrels never could last long, if on one side only lay the wrong." What's THAT supposed to mean? Is it supposed to mean that Vicar (sic) and I are BOTH wrong?!? Well, that's ridiculous! That's stupid! That's…that's true. Oh, dear! (Sob!) Oh, Victor, how could I have been so mean to you? Victor: Oh, cookie ears, I'm SO ashamed! I behaved like a beast! (Sniff!) Quibble: Victor-poo! Victor and Quibble embrace Victor: Quibby-wips! Quibble: I'm sorry, sweetums! I wuv you! Victor: No, I'M sorry, sugar-toes! I wuv you, too! Adrian: Glad that Karin and I are never like that in public. retches

Adrian: I finished passing out the proverbs. Now key me. Poor Richard: Did thee, lass, truly! Tell me, did they work as I hoped? Adrian: Yes. Frankly, it was wicked scary how quickly the people realized their faults after reading them. It's like the "proverbs" were actually some sort of mind-altering charms or something. Poor Richard: The news gladdens my heart! Here, I have finished with the next three. I pray they are as successful as the first trio! Adrian: Seriously? More proverbs? Oh, well. Might as well brainwash some more colonists. But while I'm here, could I ask you a few questions, Deborah? Poor Richard: Deborah? Who is Deborah Franklin? My name is Poor Richard, and I have never heard of this Deborah Franklin woman! Adrian: Suuure…

Adrian: Have you heard anything about my ferret? Poor Richard: I've heard nothing, but if I were thee, I would try to save him. Terrible things happen to the cats Ima casts her beady eyes upon! Adrian: Um… SHE'S a ferret, not a cat. Poor Richard: Any animal that is not a dog is a cat to me.

Adrian: Have you heard anything about the Pughs? Poor Richard: Lass, it is the Pughs that I fear will end my proverb-carving endeavors, once and for all! Adrian (thinking): And good riddance, if you ask me. Poor Richard: I'll not waste my time talking about them. Adrian: And yet, you just did.

Narrator: This proverb says: "Early to Bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise." In other words: "You'll do well if you work hard and don't party too much!" Adrian: Counterpoint: "Early to Rise and early to bed, makes a man healthy, but socially dead." In other words: "Working hard is fine, but if you don't make time for fun, your life will be dull and empty." Narrator: …Good point.

Throckmorton: Hey, little dudette! You wanna play? Adrian: Thanks, but no thanks. I need to find my ferret. You haven't seen her, have you? Throckmorton: No, I haven't seen her. Don't worry so much, little sister. Maybe your ferret will find peace, love, and happiness with the Pughs. Adrian: That's what I'm afraid of.

Throckmorton: Wow, that was heavy! Do you think she means us, Marty? I mean, we don't usually go down 'til the sun comes up! Marty: I totally think so, brother. I feel way stupid. Throckmorton: You're right, brother. We have been a couple of silly dudes. I think we should get back to our studies, you dig? Marty: I hear you, dudette. We've wasted too much time already. We thank you from the bottom of our hearts, little lady. You've shown us the error of our ways. Adrian: …I'm not a "dudette" or a "lady". As I believe I've told everyone in this town at least once, I'm a guy. Marty: (Sigh.) I just wish I knew what to do about the Pughs. I wish Ben would TELL us what to do next! Adrian: Showing that you have officially learned absolutely nothing. Marty: Ah, well. Let's go, brother! The world of medicine awaits us!

Narrator: This proverb says: "Beware the Gossip who speaks ill of thy neighbors. With thy neighbors she likely speaks ill of thee." In other words: "If somebody tells you gossip about someone else, you can BET they're spreading gossip about you, too!" Adrian: Why does only the proverb about gossip use "she", anyway? Sexist, much? Narrator: What did you expect? It's 1764. Adrian: …Good point.

Adrian: Here. You're next on the brainwashing list. Tattle: Oh, boy, what is it? Somebody's mail? Papers from somebody's garbage pail? Let me see! Beware the Gossip who speaks ill of they (sic) neighbors. With thy neighbors she likely speaks ill of thee." Oh, what is this? I'M not a gossip! You can't possibly mean ME! Adrian: Technically, I don't mean anyone. The village idiot is forcing me to hand these out in exchange for a key. Tattle: I never talk about anyone! It's not MY fault that my neighbors are all weird! Adrian: Hey, I'm not arguing with you there. If I spend one more second with those people, I'll go insane, which is why I need to get back to my own time. Tattle: Did I tell Nellie to be a grouch? NO! Did I make Penny be such a miser she won't even buy food for her husband? NO! Adrian: Why can't her husband buy food for himself, anyway? Tattle: Did I--Oh, dear… I…I guess I might be a gossip, after all. Oh, I'm so confused! Excuse me, little girl. I want to think about this. Adrian: You know I'm not a girl, right?

Adrian: throws a proverb through Nellie's window Heads up, bitch. Nellie: So what is THIS? One of Poor Richard's stupid proverbs? No thank you, young lady! In fact, you just tell Poor Richard to come stand under my window! I feel like bouncing potatoes off of somebody's head today! Heh heh heh! Adrian (thinking): I hate to admit it, but I'm starting to like this lady.

Narrator: This proverb says: "Wealth is not his who has it, but his who enjoys it." In other words: "Don't waste your money, but DO have fun with it! Don't be cheap!" Adrian: Wow, one of these that I actually completely agree with! Money wants to be spent, after all.

Adrian: Here. You might be interested in this. Penny: What is it? Gold? Silver? Oboy, Oboy! --Shoot, it's just a proverb! Oh, I guess I'll read it. Here goes: "Wealth is not his who has it, but his who enjoys it." Now what's THAT supposed to mean? You can't mean ME. I enjoy my money. Adrian: Yes. I've noticed, and frankly, it's disturbing just how much you "enjoy" said money. Penny: I'm not a miser! I'm not a skinflint! I'm-- Oh, who am I trying to kid? Moths fly out of my purse every time I open it! (Boo hoo!) I'm a cranky old miser! Well, I'm gonna change my ways! What will I do first? Maybe I'll go shopping! Yeah, groovy! I just wish I knew what to do about the Pughs. If only Ben would give me some advice! Adrian: Wasn't Ben the one who told you to save your money? Penny: Oh, well. I'll see you later, little girl. I'm going out on the town! Adrian: …Is it really that hard to tell?

Adrian: This had better be the last batch of proverbs. Poor Richard: What?!? Oh, tis (sic) thee, lass! Adrian: Just give me the proverbs so that I can brainwash the rest of the colonists. Or you could hand over the key right now and save us both a lot of trouble. Poor Richard: I'm nervous because the Redcoats have been watching me, that's all. Here, take the last two proverbs. Off with you, before they arrest you as well! Adrian: And then I get the key, right? Poor Richard: Lass, thou art kind as well as brave, but I must stay and close up my stand. But fear not, for I am quick and quiet as a shadow! They'll never catch me. Adrian: Oh, really. You didn't look so shadowy with your head stuck in the town stocks. And I'm not a lass. Do I have to strip naked to prove it or something? Poor Richard: Ha, ha! Well, I've learned from my mistakes, thou sharp-tongued rascal, so off with thee! Adrian: How come no one else in this town talks like you, anyway? And why don't you stand under Nellie's window for a while? I'm sure she'd enjoy it.

Narrator: This proverb says: "Tart words make no Friends: A spoonful of honey will catch more flies than a Gallon of Vinegar." In other words: "Don't say mean things to people. They'll like you better if you're nice." Adrian: Who the fuck wants flies? Besides, you'll catch even more flies with a Lump of Manure, but you won't hear any proverbs about that.

Adrian: throws a proverb through Nellie's window Here you go. Nellie: What is it, what is it? Oh, it's just some stupid wooden carving. Let's see what it says… "Tart words make no Friends: A spoonful of honey will catch more flies than a Gallon of Vinegar." Oh, dear. I suppose this means me. It must! Oh, no, how could I have been so mean to everybody? I'm sorry, little girl… Adrian: Boy. Nellie: Sorry, little boy. I've been just awful to you. Adrian: I'm eighteen. Nellie: What? Adrian: I'm eighteen. I'm not "little". Nellie: Well, I can't just call you "boy". Adrian: Well, you could say "Adrian". Nellie: I didn't know you were called Adrian. Adrian: Well, you didn't bother to find out, did you? Nellie: Excuse me, I think I need to go inside and figure out how to apologize to everybody. Oh, if only Ben could give me some advice! Adrian: You want some advice? Try thinking for yourself for once. Nellie: Ah, well. I'll see you later!

Adrian (thinking): Oh, no! Someone trashed Poor Richard's stand before I got a chance to! Come to think of it, where is the little prick, anyway? And, more importantly, who cares?

Narrator: That's a good idea, but there isn't enough water in the bucket to fill the jar. Why don't you look for water somewhere else? Adrian: …So, there's too much water to carry, but not enough to fill one jar? Guess it's kind of like the aquarium in Zork Zero. Narrator: Huh? Adrian: If you ever get a chance to play Zork Zero, go to the Parlor in Flatheadia, save your game, and type "take aquarium", then "enter aquarium". Then restore your saved game and enter those two commands in reverse.

Adrian: What are you working on, Sally? Sally: Oh, 'tis nothing. Just a sampler. Adrian: A sampler? Sally: Tis (sic) a bit of cloth, embroidered with a saying. This one says "Honor thy Father and Mother". (Sigh) Believe me, I'm trying. Adrian: Hey, at least you don't have my parents… or your grandfather, for that matter.

Narrator: Adrian only likes cabbages when they're made into kimchi. There's NO WAY he's going to take one. Adrian: Well, at least they aren't radishes.

Narrator: It would be rude of Adrian to go back into the Franklins' private rooms. Adrian: So? In case you haven't noticed by now, I'm not exactly a polite person. Narrator: All right. We were just too cheap and lazy to make a set for the private rooms, and there's nothing in there that you need, anyway. Are you satisfied now? Adrian: Yes, very.

Adrian tries to use a tomato on himself to fake an injury Narrator: Adrian doesn't want to get tomato juice on his favorite hoodie. Adrian: Good point. I guess they had to get me into those stupid colonial clothes somehow. All right, but I'm changing back as soon as I'm done with this mission. Narrator: Deal.

Adrian: returns the colonial clothes to the clothesline where he found them, albeit with a tomato-juice stain on the shirt, then changes back into his hoodie, jeans, and headband

Ben: Okay, child, let me clue you in on what's gonna happen! With this experiment, we're going to prove that lightning is actually MADE of electricity! That cosmic lightning is gonna be drawn to this kite--because lightning can't resist anything that flies around next to it, you dig? Adrian: "Cosmic lightning"? Sounds like a good name for a rock band. Ben: Besides, lightning loves silk. Fabric of the gods, remember? Once the lightning gets close to the kite, the electricity will groove its way down the string, and hit this key, you dig? Then we put the key on the bottle, and we have a jar full of lightning! Totally groovy, huh? Adrian: I have to admit, that's actually… pretty cool. It's literally catching lightning in a bottle. Ben: Of course, if lightning STRIKES the kite, things will get a little hotter! In fact, we may end up looking like baked yams! Here it comes… Yahoo! Adrian: …"Yahoo"?

Adrian and Ben are surveying the lightning-struck remains of Ben's hot tub Adrian: What a mess. Ben: Ah, well. 'Twas a noble experiment, anyhow. Good gracious! Is that the "hot tub" I've been spending all my time in? Adrian: Yes… or, at least, it was. Kind of a shame, really - it was a pretty cool hot tub. Ben: Aye, 'tis nothing but a mess now. Help yourself to anything you may find in the wreckage, lad. Deborah will have my head if I don't clean this up soon. Adrian: Thanks. I hate to say it, but you look… better. Ben: Better? I suppose so…At least I'm no longer wearing those ridiculous clothes. Adrian: I wouldn't say "ridiculous". If nothing else, it looked pretty comfy to me. Yellow isn't my color, so I wouldn't wear that exact garment, but if something similar were available in a dark and/or cool color, I'd wear that. Maybe not in public, though… Ben: Oh, I can't wait to show my darling Deborah that I've regained my senses! Excuse me, boy. Adrian: You know I have a name, right? It's Adrian. Adrian Bernhardt. Oh, well. At least someone actually recognizes that I'm a guy. Ben: Deborah! Oh, Mrs. Franklin! Adrian: …You call your wife Mrs. Franklin?

Adrian: I'm here to get you out of here, if only so that Ben will stop moping and help me rescue my ferret. Poor Richard: Get me out of here! Hmmph! And how do you propose to do THAT? Those guards may be idiots, but they're not fool enough to let me out! I'm going to rot in here, and I hope the man who's responsible--that pig-headed Ben Franklin--rots somewhere else for all eternity. Adrian: You mean hell? Poor Richard: He's lost his mind, girl, and he's taking the whole of the British colonies with him! Adrian: I'm a boy, as I've told you more times than I can remember. At least you're talking like a normal person now… Poor Richard: My mother always warned me about him, but did I believe her? Oh, no! Of course not! BAH! Lazy, good for nothing…! Sitting around in that hot tub all day…! Never a thought about what he's doing to fair Philadelphia…! Never a thought about what he's doing to ME! HMMPH!!!

Adrian: I've uncovered your secret, and am, frankly, surprised that I'm apparently the only one. You're really Deborah Franklin in disguise! Wait… you have a daughter, which means that you've had sex. And since you're also Poor Richard, I guess that makes me Matthias Corvinus, King of Hungary and Croatia. Deborah: Oh, so you know who I am, do you? And what of it? Those fools out there will find out soon enough as well, and wait till you see the headlines! "Wife of Famous Inventor Arrested while Dressed as a Man!" The British will get a fine hoot out of that, and then they'll stretch my neck, just the same! Adrian: But…we can escape now! All you have to do is-- Deborah: What would be the point? To go back to my worthless husband? I'd sooner hang than see that pitiful excuse for a man again. Wretched beast! Rotten old ninnyhammer! Addle-pated fatwit! Mangy old goose! Pathetic waterlogged warthog! Adrian (thinking): What does Ben see in this bitch, anyway? If I were married to her, I'd want to spend as much time away from her and her nagging as possible! He must have jumped at the opportunity to become ambassador to France.

Ben: Come in, lad. I've been trying to write a new pamphlet. I must help the people get back to the good old colonial ethics of hard work and diligence! But don't worry your head about that. What are we going to do about that ferret of yours, lad? Adrian: Terra is probably in Penn Mansion. Can't we just go ask for her? You're a pretty important guy in Philadelphia, right? Ben: Well, I suppose so, but that wouldn't help us anyway. I have never had any influence with General Pugh. I never liked the fellow, nor he I. Adrian: Then I guess we'll have to break in. Ben: Ha ha! I appreciate your enthusiasm, lad, but we'd need an army to take Penn Mansion. It has more guards around it than Ima has dresses in her closet! Adrian: How many guards? Ben: Six, lad. Adrian: Quite a lot of guards, then. Still, I bet I could slip past them--if only I could get across the river. Ben: I think we can take care of the river. I know we can get you in--it's getting you out I'm worried about. If only we had someone to back us up… Adrian: Ceiling H. Cat. I sense another fucking fetch quest coming up. Ben: (Sigh.) I am quite sympathetic to your plight, lad, but I don't think the colonists are likely to take on armed redcoats for the sake of a ferret. If only there were another reason for them to gather at Penn Mansion… well, if you think of anything, let me know. I'm going to work on this pamphlet.

Adrian: Here. Take this. Quibble: Oh, all right. Let's see it. Come on, Vicar (sic), look at this with me. Then maybe she'll leave BOTH of us alone! Victor: Whatever you want, my little squirrel-lips! Quibble: Okay, let's see… WHAT?!? The Pughs have been LYING to us? How COULD they! Oh, and Ben's changed his mind about the New Ways! Y'know, they did seem kind of silly…but those rotten PUGHS! How COULD they! GRRRR! Oh, Vicar (sic), how could we have been so silly? We have shirked our duties to this colony! Victor: Indeed, my love. We must fly to Ben's side, and join him in protest! Little girl, you've done us a great service, and we thank you most sincerely! Quibble: Tell me, girl, what is your name? I want to tell my own daughter all about you, when I have one! Adrian: First of all, I'm a boy. Second of all, my name is, uh, Richard Garriott. Victor: We'll always remember you, Richard! We'll see you at the protest! Quibble: Yes, farewell, Richard!

Adrian: Has anyone ever told you that your head looks like a balloon on a stick? Goody: Lass, is this from Ben? Oh, it IS! Let's see… WHAT?!? Those horrible, terrible, sneaky PUGHS!!! Ooh, what FIENDS! I'm GOING to that meeting. We'll just GET those Pughs, that's what! Adrian: Wow, do you think you used enough capslock in that sentence? Goody: …Do you suppose I should bring my big, heavy ladle? Heh heh heh… Adrian: Well, I know it's tempting, but we don't want to resort to violence. Not right away, anyhow. cracks knuckles Goody: Oh, all right. I'd best close up the shop and get ready. Just come by if there's anything you need…Oh, by the way, lass, what's your name? Adrian: I'm not a lass, and my name is, um, Adam. Adam Lovelace. Goody: Well, I thank you, Adam Lovelace! I'll see you at the rally, if not before. Excuse me!

Adrian: Here you go, Tattle. Unfortunately, it's not an application for a name change. Tattle: Well, the last thing you gave me was pretty special! Let's see what you have for me now! Mm hmm… Mm hmm… Oh, dear! WHAT?!? You don't say. …Oh, MY! OH, DEAR!! Imagine that! Ben Franklin really WAS sick! Oh, I can't BELIEVE those awful Pughs! Tell you what, little girl, I'm going to that rally! Adrian: Zip-a-dee-freakin'-doo-dah. Tattle: I owe a lot to you, lassie. You showed me the error of my ways. Thank you--Oh, my! I don't know your name! Adrian: Considering that you don't even know that I'm a boy, I'm not surprised. My name is, um, Nikola. Nikola Tesla. Tattle: Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Nick. See you at the rally!

Adrian: Here, catch. makes a pamphlet into a paper airplane and throws it through the window Nellie: Whee! That was fun! All right, let's see what we have here. Uh-huh… sure… What?!? WHAT?!? WHAT?!?! NO WAY!!! It's INFURIATING! To think, the Pughs have been taking advantage of us all this time! Well, I'll just go to that rally and give those Pughs what for! Thank you, Adrian!

Adrian: What's up? Roland: Huh? Oh, nothing much, Cosmic Cat. It feels good to be virtuous. I just wish I knew what else I should be doing. I'm bored, you know? Adrian: Well, this might interest you. Roland: Cool! Sock it to me! 'Kay, let's see… WHOA! HOLD THE CARRIAGE! Is this TRUE? And I thought I was a dishonest, sneaky street weasel! Adrian: Don't insult weasels like that. Roland: Those rotten Pughs! They were taking money from everybody before I had the chance to! We'll put a stop to that! I'm goin' to the rally! Hey, Cosmic, you never did tell me your name. Lay it on me, so I know who to thank! Adrian: It's…Gary. Gary Gygax. Roland: Well thanks a million, Gary! I'll see you at the rally! Adrian: Bye.

Adrian: Here. It's from Benjamin Franklin. Lee: For me, hmm? Oh, bully! Let's see. I just hope it doesn't have anything to do with tie-dye. Oh, my! Oh, MY! WHAT?!? I can't believe it! I just can't! Oh, it's wonderful to know that Ben is back to his old self! And as for those Pughs…If only I still had my cannon! I'm going to that rally, young lady! Thank you! Adrian: Is that "cannon" as a singular or a plural? Lee: Well, I'll be off then, young--oh, what IS your name, girl? Adrian: I'm a boy, and my name is, um, Douglas. Douglas Adams. Lee: It's been a pleasure, Douglas, lad. I'll see you at the rally! GET THE PUGHS! TALLY HO! YOIKS AND AWAY! Adrian (thinking): I just hope he can fit through the pub door.

Adrian: Here. Penny: Ooh, what is it, what is it? Oboy, a Special Edition from Ben! Let's see… EEK! I… I can't believe it! Those--those PUGHS! How COULD they! OOOH! Just wait until I get my hands on that rotten General! I'll take that Bavarian lace shirt Nellie made for him last week and STRANGLE him with it! Or maybe I'll just bring him back to the shop and saw him in half! Yeah, that's the ticket! Adrian: Your penchant for gratuitous violence is disturbing, and that's coming from me. Why not just go to the freakin' rally, like everyone else? Penny: Okay, I'll look for you there! I'll just go change out of these ridiculous clothes, then I'll go to the meeting. See you later-- say, what IS your name, child? I'd like to properly thank you. Adrian: It's, er, ah, it's Shigesato. Shigesato Itoi. Penny: What an exotic name! Thank you, Shigesato. I'll see you later!

Adrian: Here. It's a flyer from Ben. Billy: Ben, huh, little dudette? Let's see what he has to say… Yeah… Uh-huh… Yeah… Uh-huh… HOLD ON A MINUTE! Oh, MAN! I can't BELIEVE those… PUGHS! They've been robbing us blind! I'm glad Ben is better, kid, but I'm so angry right now I could spit nails! Hidel: Indeed, nails! Billy: We're going to that rally, lass, and you better believe it! Adrian: Oh, and mail out the rest of these flyers to the sheeple, er, colonists, okay? Billy: You bet! By sundown tonight, everyone in Philadelphia will know what a rat that wretched Pugh is. Come on, Hidel, let's get moving-- Oh! by (sic) the way, what's your name, lass? We really owe you one! Adrian: As I've been trying to tell you, I'm a lad, not a lass. Oh, and my name is, um, Richard. Richard Garfield. Billy: Fare the well, Richard! Godspeed! If you'll excuse me, we must get these flyers into the mail, and prepare for the meeting. Goodbye! Hidel: Right, bye!

Adrian: This is the last one. Finally, I'm done with this fucking fetch quest! Marty: Let's see now… What!?! General Pugh's been swindling us out of our money? The Stamp Act never even PASSED! That total worm-dude! Ben goes on to say that we should all stop dressing, acting and talking like ninnies! Hey, Throckmorton, are we ninnies? Throckmorton: Well… Marty: I fear we are, brother. See here, Ben is organizing a protest against General Pugh! We must show our support! Throckmorton: Yes, let us make haste! Marty: We thank you most sincerely, lass. You have done us an immeasurable favor. Tell, (sic) me, what is your name? I want to remember you always. Adrian: Uh, David. David…Sedaris. And I'm a lad, not a lass. Marty: Well, best of luck to you, David! Throckmorton: Yes, farewell, David-dude!

Adrian: Now that the warp in the spacetime continuum is fixed, I should be heading home soon. Terra: (ferret noises) Adrian and Terra begin to warp back to the present Ben: Lad? LAD?!? Adrian: Goodbye and good riddance to all of you. I'll remember you in therapy. Marty: Goodbye, David! Quibble: Goodbye, Richard! Nellie: Goodbye, Adrian! Tattle: Goodbye, Nikola! Lee: Goodbye, Douglas… Adrian and Terra return to their own time, but can never scrub their minds clean

#long post #really long post #don't click the keep reading unless you have time to spare #pepper's adventures in time #my ocs #adrian bernhardt #mst #sort of

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allegra-writes · 2 years ago

Text

"Begin Again"

Original gif by @chuck-cox

Matt Murdock x Reader

General Audiences, fluff

Warnings: None. Past Reader x Billy Russo mentioned.

I know I promised Dark!Matt x Reader first but I was listening to Taylor Swift while studying and this practically wrote itself. You guys think my world literature professors will give me extra credits for this?

Reader and Matt go on their first coffee date, and Reader can't help but notice just how different from her last relationship Matt is. Can be read as a stand alone or as the second part of "Ghosted", my angsty Billy Russo break-up fic.

"I've been spending the last eight months

Thinking all love ever does

Is break and burn, and end

But on a Wednesday in a cafe

I watched it begin again"

Begin Again - Taylor Swift

MY MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

He was already at the coffee shop when you entered. You didn't know exactly why, maybe because you had tried to drag Billy there for weeks before finally giving up, but you had expected Matt to be late or not show up at all.

But he had, and somehow he had known it was you, if the adorable way he jumped up from his seat, big boyish smile on his face, was anything to go by. You waved at him until you realized what you were doing and put your hand down, instead stepping over to plant a shy, tentative hello kiss on his cheek, his smile growing even bigger at your sweet gesture.

"Hi, Y/N"

"Hi, Matt" It was probably the wrong move, but your curiosity got the best of you, "How did you know it was me?"

"I didn't" He joked, "I actually got up for the last five people to enter that door"

Your snort was inelegant, but his own chuckle told you he at least liked your spontaneity. You appreciated it, it was nice not having to feel self-conscious of your every move, wondering if maybe if you were a little more sophisticated, a little more pretentious, a little more like them, then maybe he would…

"It was your perfume" Matt explained, interrupting the darker turn your thoughts were taking. "Orange, strawberries and flowers, like jasmine. And something else, a woodsy undertone, patchouli, maybe cedar… no one else in the entire city smells quite like it"

There was a soft fluttering sensation in your stomach at his involuntary revelation of the amount of attention, the time he must have spent thinking about the way you smelled.

"It's called 'Luz'" You disclosed, "and they don't make it here. My mom sends me bottles of it to remind me of home"

"Light" He translated, nodding to himself as if the mystery made sense to him now, "It's fitting, you're luminous and warm, like sunshine"

His face turned beet red, horrified look in his expressive eyes and you understood he hadn't meant to say that last part out loud, but you enjoyed the compliment.

Besides, Matt Murdock was cute when he was flustered.

You took mercy on him, grabbing the back of the chair in front of you for something to do, to diffuse the tension. Matt, though, ever the gentleman, stopped you.

"Allow me, please" He requested, before pulling your chair out and helping you in once you were seated, and you felt yourself melt a little.

"I love that song"

"What?"

"What a heavenly way to die" Matt motioned at the headphones hanging from your neck, "what a time to be alive… because forever is in your eyes… but forever ain't half the time I wanna spend with you…" he hummed, deep voice barely over a whisper, along to the song that you were playing on your phone.

"You have very good hearing!" You commented, impressed.

"Yes, well…" He trailed off, shrugging. You wondered if he was afraid it would kill the mood, talking about his blindness, if he was scared you would bolt if he reminded you, or if it would be rude of you to tackle the subject so soon.

Maybe you were the one scared of fucking up.

Either way, you decided to deflect.

"I didn't take you for the Troye Sivan type"

"Why not? I'll have you know I'm hip, I'm very hip"

It was a total breach of first date protocol, not even you were so socially inept to not know bringing up an ex was a huge no. But you found yourself doing it anyway.

"It's not that, it's just my ex… whatever we were, he hated bubblegum pop and YouTubers, he was more into jazz and the old big ones, you know? Ray Charles, Nat King Cole, all that stuff. He said my music taste was- that it wasn't real music"

You braced yourself, reading Matt's face for any sign of judgment or discomfort your social faux pass might have caused him.

"No offense, but he sounds like kind of a dick" he replied, without missing a beat. You let out a relieved laugh,

"Yeah, he kind of is"

Luckily, your favorite waitress -and friend- showed up then, saving you from having to expand on the Billy Russo subject. Theo didn't say anything as she took your orders, but you could see her smirk as she took Matt in, undoubtedly analyzing everything about him in those few seconds. She gave you a thumbs-up as she went back to the counter.

You'd have to ask her later if she really did like Matt or if she just liked him cuz he wasn't Billy, but for now, you decided to take it as a good sign.

"I like this place" Matt commented, casually head tilted slightly, as if he was listening to something you couldn't. You wondered if that was the case. "The atmosphere, the music, the people. I must have walked right by it a hundred times going to work, and I never even noticed its existence"

"Most people don't" You explained, "The Slat is one of Hell's Kitchen's best-kept secrets. And luckily, that's just the way the owners like it" The best part of the place was that, how tiny and cozy the small hole-in-the-wall Cafe was. It was charming and vintage in a genuine way as if an old lady had decorated the place (it had) about thirty years ago and no one else had dared or bothered to touch anything. The floors were naked worn-out brick, the sturdy furniture metallic and mismatched, and real geraniums were hanging from the discolored walls. Combined with the lo-fi hip-hop beats coming from the old speakers and the smell of roasted coffee and burnt toast, you imagined it made for an interesting sensorial experience even for someone without his sight.

But the truth was, you had an ulterior motive in your choice of venue. You didn't only like this particular coffee place, but you felt safe there, your friends worked there. And there wasn't anything remotely sexy on a coffee date. Meeting at night could, in your experience, give a guy the wrong idea. Plus, a dinner date lasted at least an hour, so if it didn't go right, there was a lot of time for awkward silence or boring conversations. Coffee was easier, cheaper, and if you wanted to bolt, you could do so after fifteen minutes or so.

Not that it was going to happen now. Matt was charming, and he was making you feel comfortable. He didn't seem entitled or overbearing at all. No, your only regret so far was that Matt had kept his dark glasses on. You had only seen him without them a handful of times, and you got the distinct impression he would never take them off at a public place if he could help it, and, as insensitive and shallow as it was, you were finding yourself wanting to gaze into the pretty hazel of his big doe eyes.

And at that very moment, as if reading your mind, he chose to take them off.

"I'm glad you invited me" Matt was talking again, so you let go of your stupid longing thoughts and focused on listening, "otherwise, I would have never found it"

"I'm happy you like it, then. I know plenty of dive bars and hidden gems I can show you if you want…"

Matt did the adorable head tilt thing again,

"Does that mean there are going to be more dates?"

You felt your face warm up again, but Theo, bless her heart, chose that moment to bring your drinks, saving you again.

"Here you go, guys, one latte for the gentleman, and one caramel macchiato for the lady. Also, one hot cinnamon roll. On the house" she punctuated with a wink, making it clear she wasn't only talking about the perfectly split in half pastry. And something about her tone must have been obviously teasing because Matt lowered his head, abashed but still smiling.

"I apologize for Theo, she's still undomesticated"

"It's ok, I'm glad to know I have your friend's seal of approval"

You hummed distractedly, still giving Theo the stink eye as Matt tore onto his half of the pastry, moaning involuntarily as the warm, gooey deliciousness melted in his mouth. It was impossible to turn your eyes away from the curve of his jaw, the way the muscles of his neck worked as he chew, from his plump pink lips as they closed around the pastry. You wanted to reach out and clean the drop of sauce on the corner of his mouth with your fingertips, wanted to feel the prickle of his stubble against your palm, wanted to taste the cinnamon off his tongue.

You wanted him.

The realization washed over you like an epiphany, a benediction. After months and months of comparing everyone you met to your not-quite-ex, and finding them lacking, now Matt was making your heart skip a beat (or two or three) by simply being himself. Kind, chivalrous, cute. Not that you hadn't noticed when men exhibited those qualities before, at least objectively you had. But none had been able to move you, to attract you quite like Matt was doing. Had you been too busy obsessing over someone who treated you like trash to really allow yourself to react to those guys? Or was Matt Murdock simply hot enough to break through your haze of apathy? Did it even matter when he was reaching for your hand on the table and setting your skin alight with the softest, most innocent of touches? Pleading with the sweetest voice to… what?

Right. You would do right to pay attention to what he was trying to say. Probably.

"... hope you don't think I'm too forward for asking for this on our first date" To be perfectly straight, you were ready to agree with anything he would have requested of you right then, those huge hazel eyes of him ought to be illegal. "But I've been wanting to do it for a while and I'm not exaggerating when I tell you I think I might die if I don't kiss you right now"

If your heart was skipping before, at that moment, it stopped altogether. Or maybe, it started working on override, taking over completely, brain willingly and cheerfully relinquishing control of your body to it. Because next thing you knew, you were leaning over the table, pressing the most delicate, gentlest of kisses on Matt's delectable lips, sparks going off under your skin from that single point of contact. It was pleasing.

It was blissful.

It wasn't anywhere near enough.

And Matt seemed to feel the same way because, in a flash, his hand was finding your face, cupping it, keeping you in place as his lips pressed against yours more insistently, moving against them, coaxing them open just barely, just enough for your breath to mingle with his, just enough for the tip of his tongue to slide between your lips and withdrawing. Just a taste. Just a tease. Just a promise of what was to come if you dared to take what he was openly offering to you.

It was enough to make your heart race, wild and erratic, like a hummingbird trying to escape the cage of your ribs.

Matt broke the kiss, as breathless as you, forehead resting against yours, fingertips still clinging to your neck, not ready to let go of you yet. You could understand though, boy did you understand, you didn't want to let go either but lunchtime was running out, and you both had to get back to the office.

Once again, Matt seemed to be reading your mind.

"I don't want this date to end just yet" He confessed, thumb tracing your lower lip. You puckered your lips, kissing the pad.

"Me neither…"

"Can I walk you back to work?" His earnest request made you giggle.

"Well, we do work at the same building, you know.I think that means we have to walk in the same general direction…"

Matt giggled too, probably because he was still a little high from the kiss more than out of amusement at your cheeky comment. Somehow, you couldn't find it in yourself to mind.

"Lucky me then, I get to spend more time with you"

Would you guys be terribly late if you pulled him in and started a make out session there and then? But no, Matt was finally leaning away, letting you go back to your own seat, as much as you regretted it.

"A lot more time, probably" You pretended to sigh, "the Jones case will keep us in the office all night…"

"We can kick Foggy and Karen out, get some dinner together, a little lame for date number two, but I can be charming enough to make up for it" Matt joked, but you liked the way it sounded.

"Will you walk me home after, Mister Murdock?"

There surprise was clear on his expressive face, but he recovered fast.

"Of course" He stumbled out, "What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't?"

There was something at the back of your mind, like you could almost think of a name in reply to that. But it was just out of reach.

And whatever it was, it couldn't be more important than the man in front of you.

"Great. Then it's a date"

Oh yeah, whatever it was, it couldn't possibly be more important than Matt Murdock and his dimpled, dazzling, adorable smile…

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #fluff #matt murdock x you #daredevil #charlie cox #fanfiction #imagine

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pastrydragon · 2 years ago

Note

Disney villains reacting to a sensitive s/o who is tired of being good and now wants revenge and to go ape shit, if you want.

Just got back from camping and the power of nature(and marshmallows) has revitalized me.

This is the hottest thing they have ever seen and they are DOWN BAD "Wow you're sexy when you're angry- Which is secondary to you being upset, of course, please stop looking at me like that.": Hades, Ursula, Chernabog, Clayton, Alameda Slim, and Shere Khan.

They had a banner that says Welcome To Villainy! ready to go, an empty photo album titled S/O's Evil Plans, and a written list of people S/O hates and why. They have prepared for this day with the care and joy most people would put into their weddings. "Too much? I knew it was too much when I put it together but I'm so exited!": Professor Ratigan, DORIS, Jafar, King Candy, Scar, and Zira.

An appropriate amount of exited and horny. They're happy S/O decided to stand up for themselves and that they get to do villain stuff together. "This is gonna be a lot of fun! Mostly cathartic, but also really fun!": Dr. Facilier, Yzma, Cruella, Hook, Gothel, Rourke, Maleficent and Grimhilde.

They're supportive of whatever makes their S/O happy. But mostly they want permission to go fucking feral on that one guy. You know, that guy. Yeah that guy is a dead motherfucker, no mercy, no forgiveness. "I'm gonna get us matching t-shirts for when we take a selfie with his grave. Nothing incriminating but definitely a pun based on the murder method.": Shan Yu, Headless Horseman, Mim, Oogie Boogie and Tamatoa.

They mean this in the most respectful and loving way possible, but they would like to destroy S/O's enemies for them instead. S/O shouldn't put themselves in danger or get in trouble because other people didn't know how to behave, and imagining killing someone is very different from actually doing it. This way S/O may go to bed tonight upset, but they'll wake up with no problems in the morning. It'll be like nothing upset S/O so badly in the first place, right? "I know you can do it yourself, but you shouldn't have to. You shouldn't have to change just because they're trash.": Horned King

They don't think S/O means it, they're so squishy. S/O is just especially upset today, they'll calm down and then take it all back. Obviously. "Have you eaten today? Oh I just want to know how much I should order, I really just want you to feel better.": AUTO and Helga.

"... It's not worth it.": Randall and Ernesto De Le Cruz.

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saviorinsilk · 4 years ago

Text

Again

Ship: Wilhemina Venable x Fem!Reader

Description: Wilhemina Venable is your College English Professor and on a particular night you learn your lesson for speaking out in class. This is an AU!

Words: 1869

Warnings: Punishment, professor x student, strap on sex, spanking, domination and discipline.

A/N: You guys wanted more of Venable spanking reader so here you sluts go!

Tears clouded your vision of the textbook that was laying open on the desk in front of you. Your body jerked forward when yet another harsh slap rang loudly through the Victorian styled office. Ms. Venable had delivered another brutal hit on your already red, welt covered ass. You didn't make any noise, you wouldn't dare. Your professor had taught you better than that. But oh how you wished you could vocally express yourself.

"Again Miss Y/L/N." Ms. Venable spoke from behind you, her bruising grip loosening up so she could ghost her hand up your lower back and back down. She caressed the sensitive skin of your burning red ass in slow circles as she pushed your dress that was already hiked up, even higher and out of her way.

You supported yourself on one of your shaky elbows as you wiped your eyes with your free hand, the words on the page in front of you now clearer.

"First Person; In the subjective case, the singular form of the first person is "I," and the plural form is "we." "I" and "we" are in the subjective case because either one can be used as the subject of a sentence." Your voice was small, the half-hour of canning you had already endured because of your slip up in Ms. Venable's English lecture, having already caused you to sink deep into your submissive headspace. You braced yourself for the impending attack, making it easier to hold back the whimper that dared to escape.

Ms. Venable's delicate but deadly cane collided with your ass for what felt like the hundredth time, your weak legs beginning to shake as your full ass bounced with the force of the hit.

You took that as your cue to continue and once again began reading over the next paragraph on the page she had been making you repeat, this time your voice shaking as she hit you once, twice and three times.

"Second Person; You use the second-person point of view to address the reader, as I just did. T-The second person uses the pronouns "you," "your," and "yours." We use these t-three pronouns when addressing one, or more than one, person." Your voice was beginning to falter and you wished you had just kept your mouth shut and hadn't made that stupid snippy remark in class.

"Actually Ms. V, wouldn't you want to use first person?" You regretted opening your mouth the moment the classroom fell silent. You knew you had fucked up and everyone else did as well, giving you sympathetic looks as Ms. Venable slowly made her way over to your seat, her cane clicking loudly against the tile floor as she did. She didn't stop until she was standing directly in front of your desk at the front of the class, her piercing dark gaze locked on you. You couldn't bring yourself to meet her eyes as she spoke.

"If you are going to try and correct me Miss Y/L/N, at least do it right."

She snapped back, the class straining not to erupt in laughter, fearing her wrath. A hand shot up at the other side of the room but Ms. Venable took a moment before she nodded at the girl.

"I believe the correct answer is actually second person Ms.Venable." Stupid Casey. You hated Casey. She was such a kiss ass. Always offering to help Ms. Venable after class, purposely being the last one (other than you of course) to leave the class so she could steal a few extra moments with your professor. You hated how jealous the blonde, skinny College girl made you; but you couldn't help it. Even the knowledge that Casey thought of Ms. Venable in that way made your blood boil. And Ms Venable knew it too.

"Very right Casey. Glad to know some of you are paying attention. As for you Miss Y/L/N, we will discuss your behaviour after class."

There had been nothing you had been able to do but clench you're fists and get through the rest of class.

"You will be in my office by 11:30pm sharp." Was all she said before directing her attention back to her computer.

She didn't need to ask. Only You and Ms. Venable knew the truth. That this was exactly what you had wanted. When you didn't move she glared at you, making you blush and quickly pick up your books and throw your bag over your shoulder. Your plan was progressing perfectly and her furious gaze only made you squeeze your thighs together harder, biting your lip the way you knew drove your secret lover crazy.

Her office was connected to the small apartment she lived in on campus. It was a 5-minute walk from your dorm, one you had gotten quite accustomed too.

You still remember the first night you spent in her office. Ms. Venable had offered to tutor you through the writing project she had assigned. She had sat across her desk from you and for the first time you had witnessed her smile, telling you that your outline looked perfect. It was something that didn't often happen from the tough grader. That had been the first night. A tutoring session gone sexual.

Today had been no different, except you knew what was awaiting you and it wasn't praise. She barely had spoken to you before she had bent you over her desk, slamming the textbook down in front of you and making you go to page 62, paragraph 23, demanding you begin reading.

Ms. Venable had seemed to have found a tad of mercy in her cold heart, as she lowered her cane, instead gently tracing the welts and light bruises that had already begun to form from the assault from her cane.

You took the chance to catch your breath, squeezing your eyes shut, demanding that the salty tears that dared to spill down onto the pages below to stay put.

That's when you heard it, the light sound of her skirt dropping, the delicate lavender fabric pooling at her feet before the woman stepped out of it and slid it out of her way. The sound elicited both excitement and fear in you. It made your stomach twist and the warmth that had built up in your core was becoming painful.

That's when you felt it, smooth and rock hard against your ass. She had been wearing her strap the whole evening and by weight of it, you knew it was your favourite one.

Ms. Venable leaned down over you, the dominance she radiated causing you to press your thighs together, desperate to quench the painful arousal that the dark woman had caused. Her strap pressed again your wet cunt as she snatched your long hair that was already pulled up in a ponytail (convenient for her) in her fist. You couldn't help the high pitched squeak that slipped past your lips as she yanked your head back. You could feel Ms. Venable's hot breath against the shell of your ear as she used her foot to kick your legs wider apart; granting her access to the part of you that only belonged to her.

"You enjoy being a brat? Embarrassing me in front of all my students?" She sarcastically asked, slapping your cunt roughly with her impossibly large cock. You bit your lip to keep your moans locked inside, drawing blood as Ms. Venable delivered a few more slaps to your aching cunt. You shook your head frantically, crying out as you opened your mouth to answer her.

"No Ms! I'm a bad girl! I'm sorry!" You whimper as she pulled your earlobe into her mouth.

She hit you with her hand harder than you were expecting and simultaneously slide her large, thick cock into you. The impossible stretch you felt as Ms. Venable buried herself completely inside of your dripping, warm and throbbing cunt, made you moan deeply, fresh tears pricking your eyes. You arched your back painfully and dropped your head to the wooden desk, smashing against it loud enough to cause Ms.Venable's predatory expression to falter for a split second. The concern faded quickly though when she felt you began to grind your hips back, desperate for your professor to give you what you needed.

She moaned in pleasure as she watched your tight hole stretch perfectly around her cock, like you were made for it. Made to serve her.

Ms. Venable's hand came down on your right ass cheek and then the left, her dark eyes blown black with lust. She could tell you were close, noticing the way your whimpers became more desperate, the textbook falling flat on the desk, your head resting on top it.

"Ah, ah, ah don't be a greedy little slut. You better not cum until you're finished." Ms. Venable warned you in a calm tone as she stayed still inside of you, as torturous as it was for her, the stimulation of the base of the strap had begun to make her clit throb but she knew you wouldn't last if she didn't.

Ms. Venable may have been a cruel Mistress and a strict teacher but she knew how sensitive you were after a spanking. How the pain lit your body up like a live wire. Plus, after how good you had been for her, she truly didn't want to have to punish you for cumming without permission.

"Third Person; The third person is the most common point of view used in fiction writing and is the traditional form for academic writing. Authors of novels and composers of papers use "he," "she," or "it" when referring to a person, place, thing, or idea." You practically screamed the last sentence, bucking your hips back roughly, trying to get Ms. Venable as deep inside of you as you possibly could. You were sweating, crying and shaking like a pathetic mess, exactly how Professor Venable liked you.

"PLEASE! Fucking hell! Please, Ms. Venable! I won't forget again!" You sobbed, becoming frantic for something, anything that would soothe the burning and twisting sensation in your lower abdomens

Ms. Venable chuckled to herself, proud of the effect she had on you. If she were honest, she was glad you had finished up as she couldn't stand the intensely of her own arousal another second longer.

"Good girl. Such a smart slut. Now cum for me" You barely had time to register her words before Ms. Venable began thrusting into your roughly, a sure-fire way to have you cumming around her cock.

When your orgasm does snap in your belly Ms.Venable pulled you up, your back crashing into her chest. Your body went ridge, fire washing over you and Ms. Venable held onto you tightly, supporting your weight as she fucked you through your orgasm. "Thank y-you Miss!" You barely got the words out as your body shook with the aftershock of your orgasm.

Ms.Venable smirked wickedly as she shoved you back down on your elbows, cock pulled from your cunt with a sharp spank on your ass cheek. When she finally spoke again, you froze, hearing the three words you dreaded the most.

"Again Miss Y/L/N."

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#venable #wilhemina venable fanfic #wilhemina venable fanfiction #wilhemina venable #smut #ahs smut #venable smut #ahs apocalyse #american horror story

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iatethepomegranate · 3 years ago

Text

We are not alone in the dark with our demons, Chapter 12

In which Caleb buys a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha, becomes a professor, learns how to be a person, and grapples with how to help the other Volstrucker survivors, and his students, in a way he had never been helped.

Content warnings: References to Caleb's backstory, depression, poverty

Chapter summary: Caleb and the Nein meet up in Nicodranas, and he can no longer delay telling them of his failure to protect someone who desperately needed him. But, as it turns out, he was not the only person keeping secrets about that day.

Chapter notes: This is a somewhat chaotic chapter. Enjoy and let chaos reign, I guess! Chapter title is from Three by Sleeping At Last

****

Chapter 12: A mess of a story I'm ashamed to tell but I'm slowly learning how to break this spell

Essek teleported the four of them to the Blooming Grove the following morning to pick up Caduceus, who offered to message Wensforth to save the wizards the spell. They had breakfast in the Grove with the Clays, and got their hands dirty in the garden for a while, until Caleb rolled the aches from his shoulders and began to draw the teleportation circle to Tidepeak Tower.

“I might have to go back earlier than the rest of you,” said Beauregard. “Dairon’s guiding the monks on the Nico hunt for now, but they’re super busy.”

“We can send you back whenever you need,” said Essek.

Caleb’s next few chalk strokes were a bit more aggressive than they needed to be. It was hard not to feel guilty for leaving Rexxentrum while Nico was out on his own and people were searching for him. Essek sat on the floor by his side, knocking their knees together. He felt better, and no one made any mention of his silent outburst.

He completed the final stroke and the five of them rushed through, landing in a familiar tower, where Wensforth waited in the doorway.

“Welcome, welcome.” Wensforth guided them down the stairs. “The master is eager to speak with you.”

Yussa was already arranged on a couch in the sitting area on the ground floor, delicate fingers holding a teacup. Once borderline inscrutable, the man smiled at them as he often did these days. Especially to Caleb, on whom Jester thought Yussa had a crush. Caleb was more of the mind that Yussa saw him as little more than a precocious child, given their respective ages, but his particular fondness was evident all the same.

“Oremid tells me you are teaching at the Soltryce Academy now,” Yussa said. “Sit. We should talk.”

“Hi, Yussa,” Beauregard said, a little pointedly. “How’ve you been?”

“I am well, Beauregard. It is good to see you. All of you.”

They arranged themselves on the soft couches in the space, Caleb sitting across Yussa for ease of conversation, given the man clearly had things to say today. Essek was at Caleb’s side, slightly further than he would be just around the Nein, but close enough to be a comfort whenever Caleb’s anxiety spiked nonetheless.

Essek had been to Yussa’s tower a few times in Caleb’s company before. Given everything the Nein had put Yussa through already, the man had taken the presence of a fugitive of the Kryn Dynasty in his stride.

With a gesture from Yussa, his teapot lifted and poured itself into the other five cups on the little table in the centre of the room. Then, in turn, each cup floated into the hands of his visitors. Caleb accepted his with a soft thanks, slipping into Zemnian out of habit. He had spoken more Zemnian in the last few weeks than he had in years. It was always the little words, the pleases and thank yous, the hellos and goodbyes, that stuck the hardest.

“So…” Yussa honed in on him again. “Teaching. A step down from the original job they offered you, I hear.”

“Teaching is a better use of my time than spying.” There were more things Caleb could say about the Archmage of Civil Influence as a position, and most of them were far less polite. “Astrid always wanted that position more than I did anyway.”

“Good. You might survive to old age after all, for a human.”

Essek flinched a little at the reminder of Caleb’s shorter lifespan. Yussa’s eyes tracked the movement, but he let it pass without comment.

“Are we third-wheeling for you guys again?” Beau asked, but it wasn’t really a question. “Because we can, like, go.”

Caduceus placed a package on Yussa’s table. “Here, I brought that tea you liked last time.”

“Yes, thank you. You are all welcome to stay if you like.”

Beauregard was already standing up. “Nah, I think we’re good. Cool to see you again with your face where it belongs.” She awkwardly finger-gunned in Yussa’s direction, backing towards the door.

She, Yasha and Caduceus left the tower.

Yussa watched them go with amusement. “It seems my social graces are rather rusty.”

“They don’t mind,” said Caleb. “They have met too many wizards to be offended.” Essek snickered into his hand, finally relaxing a bit. “So, you were saying?”

“Teaching is good work, if you can tolerate the children,” said Yussa. “I did it myself for a time. For one to turn down an archmage position… you must have a goal.”

“Leave the Empire better than I found it,” Caleb said. That encompassed all his knotted up feelings about it.

Yussa raised a single well-kept eyebrow. “Interesting. What is your definition of ‘better’, if I may ask?”

Caleb did have a vision for this, and the situation with Felix and Nico had thrown into sharp, painful relief how far there was to go, and how much pain he would never be able to prevent. “No more children thrown on the pyre. No more stolen childhoods. No more abuse. A government and its mages who choose to consider simple human cost, before they consider their own selfish ambitions.” Caleb was typically more reserved with Yussa, but the more he spoke of this, the harder it became to restrain his emotions. “No more wizards with a god complex who think themselves above basic compassion and ethics. No more butchering the innocent to grease the wheels of war. Just… no more.”

“A lofty goal,” Yussa said, quiet. “One that would take the remainder of my lifetime, or even young Essek’s lifetime, let alone yours.”

“I know. Hence the importance of teaching these things to those who will come after me.”

Yussa hummed thoughtfully. “I wish you luck. More powerful men than yourself have tried, and been consumed.”

“Been there, done that. Have the trauma.” Caleb wasn’t sure where he found the capacity to joke, even flatly, about all of this. Sometimes it was easier to get the point across if he allowed for a bit of sarcasm. “In my experience, the children put at the mercy of these people may need the most help. And that is something I can do.”

“I will watch your progress.” Yussa finished his tea, setting the cup aside. “Now, enough of mundane matters. I have been tinkering with Willi some more. Would you like to see the results?”

“Always.” Caleb missed that golem terribly.

They lost a few hours discussing the golems of the Happy Fun Ball, and comparing notes about the pre-Calamity Aeormatons the Nein had encountered. Caleb and Essek had run across Devexian a few times in their travels since. It was a good use of time, and it settled Caleb’s nerves. He felt better.

***

Once they left Tidepeak Tower, Essek disguised as a blonde half-elf, they headed over to Veth’s place. Caleb was somewhat nervous about this, because he knew she would see through any of his bullshit and know he was going through something. And then he would have to explain everything to the rest of the Nein. And, of course, Jester already had an inkling thanks to Astrid.

There was no getting out of this. And it wasn’t that Caleb didn’t want them to know, exactly. He had just grown tired of explaining it. And he knew what little equilibrium he had managed to find would fall away as soon as Veth said or did anything in response, and he would break all over again.

Nevertheless, he messaged Veth as soon as they stepped out of the tower. “Hallo, Veth. Essek and I are on our way to your place. Be there soon.” Then, for old time’s sake: “You can reply to this message.”

The first sound that came through was Veth’s trademark screech. “Caleb! We made lunch. Get over here!” A split-second’s pause. “Good shot! Oh, sorry Lebby. Luc shot Beau in the ass. Like mother, like son.”

Luc was going to be a menace as a teenager. Caleb intended to be around to see it. And probably try to save a little bit of Yeza’s sanity if possible.

Caleb and Essek took their time wandering through Nicodranas. The streets were filled with people out for lunch, enticing scents curling through the air. Caleb and Essek stopped by a bakery to grab some pastries for the group (mostly Jester)--there had evidently been some Zemnian influence on Nicodranas, or the other way around, as treats such as bee stings could be found in both areas. Nicodranas made them a touch sweeter and stickier.

Caleb also grabbed a fresh loaf of bread, though he did not shove his hands into it this time. He hadn’t known that was a poverty thing until Beau and Jester had reacted so strongly to him doing it that one time. He still thought it was a useful trick, but it apparently unnerved people. Bread mittens had kept him warm many times in the freezing cold when he had no one to look out for him, and had to choose between food and something as simple as mittens.

Anyway, bread was wonderful.

They wound through the streets until they reached Veth’s place. There was an unpleasant feeling in the pit of Caleb’s stomach that he couldn’t quite describe. Unease or dread felt too uncharitable, but the feeling was somewhere in that neighbourhood. Essek slipped his hand into Caleb’s, gently leading him to the door. Essek knocked, and it was thrown open in seconds and Veth had already thrown herself at Caleb’s abdomen, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.

Caleb almost broke then and there. He carefully rested a hand on the top of her head, sliding his fingers through her hair, looking ahead but not really seeing anything. Veth gave him a final squeeze and stepped back, grabbing his hand on the way. It took Caleb a second too long to lock eyes with her, by which time whatever joy had been on her face had been replaced with worry.

“Hi, Lebby,” she said, in a careful soft tone she used whenever he was teetering on the brink of crashing down. “What’s the matter?”

Caleb took a careful breath, and spoke in a measured tone. “I will tell you, but we should eat first. I may not be able to later.”

Veth tugged him inside, Essek taking care of the door and following them through the house. The rest of the Nein were already crammed into the kitchen, stuffing their faces with a simple stew that smelled delightful. It must have been one of the recipes Veth remembered from Felderwin.

Jester leapt upon him with a hug, dragging Essek in with her. “You’re here! It’s so good to see you! We got chased by a dragon turtle again and I turned it into a sea slug like last time, and we got away!”

“This happened at sea, I assume?” asked Caleb, who knew enough about Jester to take nothing at face value.

“Of course, Caleb. Don’t be silly!” Jester let him go, and booped his nose. He managed not to flinch.

Caleb wordlessly held out the pastries and bread. Jester squealed and grabbed them off him, shoving them into the centre of the table. Veth grabbed an enormous knife and began to cut the bread while the rest of the Nein shuffled around to make room for two more chairs. It was a tight fit, and Caleb was firmly sandwiched between Essek and Beauregard, but it felt somewhat akin to Essek’s nighttime pressure on his back and sometimes chest that crushed his soul back into his body. Their thighs were jammed together now, and it was easy to hook his ankle around Essek’s and keep himself grounded. For now.

A bowl was shoved in his direction and he ate mechanically, dimly aware of the chatter around him. Luc’s voice was among the loudest, and it was good to hear his voice. After everything the boy had been through, on Caleb’s account no less. No matter what anyone else said.

Caleb was going to spiral if he didn’t get a hold of himself. And he wanted to have a good time in Nicodranas; he didn’t know when he would be back here. Not to mention he would prefer not to retraumatise the already traumatised toddler by having a breakdown in the middle of lunch.

So he ate. Slowly. Methodically. He silently counted each mouthful, because he needed to count something. And when he had finished the stew, he felt more present in his surroundings. Veth distributed slices of bread with little pots of spiced olive oil and balsamic vinegar, and the Nein continued to chatter away as they tore off pieces of bread, dunked them into the oil, and finished off the loaf. Caleb was glad they liked it. And that Veth had been here long enough to have picked up a local bread tradition to share with them all.

“This is good bread, Caleb,” said Jester.

“I went to the bakery you recommended,” Caleb replied.

“That was months ago! You remembered!”

Caleb tapped his temple.

“Caleb has a very good memory,” Veth said warmly, as if everyone at the table wasn’t already keenly aware.

“I’m a bit curious about that,” said Kingsley, his tail smacking Beauregard in the arm, ignoring her as she slapped it off her. “Have you always been like that?”

“My memory was always good, ja,” said Caleb. It was rare for Kingsley to ask about someone’s past; very Molly-esque, not that Caleb would ever tell him that. “I could count things very well, especially time, and naturally had good recall. I did develop it further at school, but it was always there.”

Most people who found out about Caleb’s memory either saw it as an interesting party trick, or a useful tool if they were more like Trent. He did not speak of the downsides of having a near-infallible memory very often.

But Kingsley was looking at him with sharpness in his eyes behind the easy smile. “Maybe I’m biased since I barely remember anything that this body did before a few months ago, but that sounds feckin’ awful.” He said it lightly, but Caleb could hear the edge in his voice. Kingsley had been around when Caleb had told his story to Beauregard in the Grove; he had the context, and his own experiences, to put things together.

“A blessing and a curse, ja.”

The mood at the table threatened to darken, but Luc was thankfully oblivious to it, and instead started babbling about a huge bug the Brenattos had found in the garden yesterday. And that his father had screamed very loudly. Caleb sat back from the conversation, but was pleased when the tension broke.

“It really was adorable,” Veth was saying.

Yeza rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Yes, and you were my valiant saviour once again.”

But lunch was just about wrapping up at this point, and Veth would soon turn her focus back onto Caleb and his problems. Caleb’s lunch sat like a stone in his stomach, and maybe he shouldn’t have eaten quite that much. But it was hard to say no to a home-cooked meal surrounded by the people he loved most in this world. Those who were still alive, anyway.

Veth, charitably, let Caleb have a few extra minutes while she and Yeza cleared the table before she sat back down with a sigh, and turned her eyes to him. “All right. What’s the matter?”

Yeza picked Luc up. “I think we’ll go for a walk.” He didn’t know every little thing about Caleb’s shit, but he knew enough to understand whatever they were about to discuss was not something Luc needed to hear. “We’ll be back in an hour.”

As soon as they were gone, Jester spoke up. “Astrid said some stuff happened, but she wouldn’t tell me what.”

Caleb sighed deeply. “All right. I will tell you. Some of you already know what happened. I would appreciate your assistance.”

Beauregard knocked her knee against his. “We’ll help. But you should start.”

So he did. Caleb told the Nein that Astrid had been reaching out to the Volstrucker, and that two boys had been unaccounted for. He led most of the explanation of how they had come to understand what this probably meant, and to make plans for it. Beauregard began to speak up a bit when he spoke of finding Felix and convincing him to speak to them, of bringing in Caduceus to lift the modified memory. Caduceus began to add pieces where relevant, of the things he saw. Of scrying on Nico, and learning where he was.

Beauregard led the discussion of rushing after him and finding the house ablaze, and Caleb very briefly spoke of his experience on the upper floor, and finding the bodies of Nico’s parents. The memories were too vivid, and choked him up a bit, so Beauregard took over once again, and then Caduceus after they had traded places to help Caleb try to save the Baumanns.

“I do have a confession to make,” said Caduceus.

“Oh?” said Caleb, who couldn’t say much else at the moment.

“I was still scrying when Nico lit the fire,” Caduceus admitted. “I saw how he reacted to it. I chose not to inform you, because I feared leaving the scry before your arrival, in case something else happened. I… in the moment, I did not think telling you would have helped, but I wanted to apologise. I wanted to explain all this earlier, but...” Caduceus didn’t finish--maybe he had realised that would be jumping a bit ahead in the story. But Caleb understood.

There had been a small shred of curiosity in the back of Caleb’s mind, but he had been too preoccupied to give it much thought. But Caduceus’s explanation made sense; he had weighed up the benefits of both options and chosen the one he thought best in the moment. Leaving the scry to tell Caleb the house was already ablaze probably wouldn’t have made much difference. The Baumanns had already been long dead by the time he reached them. So Caleb harboured no ill will towards Caduceus for the difficult choice he had made, nor did he resent Caduceus for not telling him sooner, when Caleb had been far too unwell.

“There is no need to apologise,” Caleb told him. “You made a hard decision. Thank you for telling me now, when I am better able to handle it. Are you all right?”

Caduceus smiled sadly at him. “I understand you better now. Not in the way either of us wanted, but I’m all right now that I’ve told you.” He straightened, clearing his throat. “Anyway, where were we?”

They briefly talked about the night they had Nico, and that it had been a bad one for Caleb, and then Essek chipped in to describe the Greater Restoration spell the following morning. And the chaos that had ensued. Caleb spoke briefly about the chase on his side of things, with Beau and Yasha contributing theirs.

“We didn’t find him,” said Beauregard. “Monks and Volstrucker are still on the lookout. Caleb thinks the kid probably ran for the woods to get some cover. He taught Felix the Sending spell and took him back home to his parents.”

“Felix and I message Nico regularly,” said Caleb. “No responses yet.” And, because he was with the Nein, and because they loved him, he said, “I… feel a bit useless, at the moment.”

Jester reached across the table, tears in her eyes, and squeezed his hand. “You’re not useless, Caleb. You’re really smart, and really cool.”

“You’ve done a lot for those kids,” said Fjord. “I’m sure they both appreciate it, even if Nico isn’t talking to you. He’ll find you when he’s ready.”

“Maybe,” Caleb murmured. He was tired.

Veth was watching him, mouth downturned at the corners. “Caleb. Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve come over.”

Caleb didn’t know what to say to her. An apology wasn’t enough. And he didn’t know if he could explain it right now. He looked away from her, down at the table, and tried not to crack apart with guilt. He was not doing a very good job.

A flash of movement, and Veth had launched herself across the table and into his lap. “Oh, Cay Cay, honey. No. Shh.” She squished his cheeks, which he only now realised were wet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. Caleb buried his face in her shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I’m not angry, and I don’t blame you for not wanting to talk about it. It’s okay.”

That only made him feel worse. Breathing was hard. Two hands, belonging to two different people, found their way to his back, rubbing slow circles. The more delicate hand--Essek’s--applied a little more pressure than the other. Probably Beauregard. She was next to him.

“You’re all right, Caleb,” said Caduceus. “We’ve got you.”

Caleb laughed wetly, remembering those exact words from Fjord as they had guided him home after a panic attack behind the coffee shop. Maybe this was a thing now. Or at least a thing from the Wildmother devotees of the Nein.

The rest of the day was quiet. Caleb composed himself after a while, and set up his lesson plans and speech notes on the floor of the Brenattos’ living room. A cup of dead people tea at his side. Surrounded by the chatter of his friends, and Essek’s head on his shoulder as he worked through a book written in Undercommon.

Yeza and Luc returned after a while, and Luc napped on the couch at Caleb’s back. Breathing loudly into his ear. It should have been annoying, but really wasn’t. The boy woke up some time later and wriggled his way onto the floor, peppering Caleb with questions about what he was doing. Caleb was more than happy to answer, hoping he had simplified it enough for the boy. Luc was very clever, but he was also very young.

Most of the Nein drifted away once Caleb seemed more stable. Jester, Fjord and Kingsley went off to check on their crew (including Vandran), and hang out with Marion. Caleb expected he would see her at the Chateau in the evening for dinner. Beau and Yasha had wandered off to the fish market.

Caduceus was still around, and Caleb suspected he actually felt much worse than he was letting on. But he seemed content to chat with Yeza and Veth over tea in the kitchen. Caleb caught snatches of the conversation; it seemed they were trying to explain some alchemical concepts to him. There was a good chance that Caduceus did have some knowledge in the area, but not in the same scientific way. Which made such a conversation all the more entertaining, as fragments of it drifted into the living room as the Brenattos and Caduceus tried to reconcile their wildly different experiences of very similar things.

Luc had just finished asking Caleb what a cantrip was, drawn from his lesson notes for Beginner’s Transmutation. The boy climbed into his lap, resting his head against Caleb’s collarbone. At first, Caleb thought he was still groggy from his nap. Then:

“Uncle Caleb?”

“Ja?”

“Are you having a bad day?”

That was a far cry from most of Caleb’s interactions with Luc, where he was mostly playing the part of the fun uncle with cool magic tricks. Essek hadn’t spent as much time with Luc, and was still phenomenally awkward around both him and Yeza, and even he seemed to notice the shift. Essek froze, his eyes glued to the one spot on the page.

“What do you mean?” Caleb asked Luc.

Luc shrugged. “Your eyes are puffy.”

Caleb chuckled at that; trust a small child to have no filter. “Ja, okay. I cried a bit earlier. Your mother and our friends took good care of me, though.” He thought back to Luc’s question. “We all have bad days, ja?”

Luc nodded, face pressed against Caleb’s shirt. “I had a bad day yesterday.”

“Oh?”

“I was remembering something that hurt a lot. And sometimes when I remember it, I get really sad and can’t think about anything else.”

Caleb, unfortunately, knew exactly what Luc was remembering. Veth didn’t bring it up often, but she had occasionally mentioned that Luc would have entire days after waking from nightmares of fire where he was just… out of sorts. Not wanting to play. Or even shoot his crossbow. Caleb could relate to the feeling.

So he set his pen aside and wrapped his arms around Luc. “Ja, that happens to me, too. Shall we stick together for today? We can cheer each other up.”

Luc just nodded, and Caleb rocked him side-to-side. The boy was probably still recovering, both from his disturbed sleep and the depressive episode.

“You’re good with him,” Essek said later, when Luc had fallen asleep against his chest.

Yeza ducked his head out of the kitchen, probably concerned that Luc was up to mischief in his silence, but his expression cleared when he saw the boy was sleeping. “Thank you, Caleb.”

Luc was not only a child, but also a halfling child, so it was a simple matter for even Caleb to hold him throughout the day. He felt better having someone else to care for, and Luc seemed to find comfort in Caleb’s attention.

***

That evening, they all visited the Lavish Chateau for dinner. Essek was in his blonde half-elf disguise again while the group ate on the ground floor. Luc was still clingy with Caleb, but he genuinely didn’t mind. He balanced the boy in his lap while they ate dinner. The chef had prepared a mildly spiced rice dish for the table that was easy for both of them to eat in this situation.

Marion joined them, graceful and lovely as ever. Like Yeza, she had not held ill will for what had befallen her during Trent’s pursuit. In fact, on more than one occasion, she had joked that she should thank “that horrible man” for forcing her to spend time with Babenon while in hiding. The situation was still complicated between the pair, and Caleb understood those kinds of complications better than most of the Nein. But she seemed happier than she had been in a long time.

Jester had apparently updated Marion with every shred of information she had gleaned from the Nein, so Marion was already aware of Caleb’s new job, and that he and the lesbians had a house together in Rexxentrum.

“It’s quite the change, I imagine,” she said.

“Oh, ja. I still wake up sometimes and have to pinch myself.”

“If you ever find yourself in Rexxentrum,” said Beauregard, “we’d love to have you.” She even managed not to look constipated or aggressive while saying it, which was a far cry from the prickly woman Caleb had met in Trostenwald all that time ago.

Marion smiled warmly. “Unlikely, but I will be sure to take you up on the offer if the need arises. How is your work, Beauregard?”

She glanced at Caleb, and sighed. “Complicated. But Caleb’s ex is the new archmage in the Assembly, and she’s actually not a shitty person most of the time. So that helps.”

Marion looked to Caleb, amused. “How does she feel about your new partner?”

Gods, Caleb had never gotten to have this kind of conversation with his own mother. So, even though the reminder hurt a bit, he indulged her. “Oh. Uh. Well, you see…”

“Caleb’s had a threesome,” Jester supplied helpfully.

“I see.” Now Marion looked very entertained. “We all have hidden depths. The two people who came to warn us about your teacher?”

“Ja.” Caleb’s face was hot, and probably as red as his hair. “They are… respectful of us. But they also told me they would, ah…” He remembered there was a small child on his lap who absolutely did not need to go around telling people he would cut off their balls. “They would cut off an important part of his anatomy if he ever hurt me. So, I think they approve.”

Essek made a choked sound. “You did not tell me this.”

“I was preoccupied.” Caleb didn’t need to elaborate; Essek would figure out what he meant.

Essek relaxed marginally, and knocked their knees together. “Right.” He wasn’t the type for public displays of affection, even if he didn’t have to worry about drawing attention to himself.

Marion looked to Essek. “Good luck.”

He laughed nervously. “Thank you. I will need it.”

“You’ll be fine,” Caleb said. Astrid and Wulf cared too much for Caleb to hurt him, now that they were no longer in a situation where it was required of them.

“Moral of the story,” Beauregard said, already three cups in. “Caleb’s got game.”

“I really do not,” Caleb said flatly.

“Real recognises real, Caleb, and you’re lookin’ real familiar.”

Caleb sighed, relieved that Luc was preoccupied with a puzzle cube he had brought the Brenattos last time he was in town. “We have talked about this before.”

“Yeah, but it’s different in front of Marion. She knows what I’m talking about.”

Marion chuckled softly behind her hand. “Indeed I do.”

“Caleb’s a loving guy, if you know what I mean,” said Jester, and her eyebrow waggle was too much for him to bear. Caleb did not stop loving people, and while it was easier to deal with his feelings for Jester now they were both in stable, happy relationships, there would always be an edge for Caleb. A point where he had to step back.

Kingsley, also quite drunk at this point, was biting his lip while he watched Caleb. “Oh, really?” The flirting from Kingsley was far easier to handle, even if the ghost of Molly made any joy bittersweet.

“That’s quite enough, I think,” said Essek. Gods, Caleb was both relieved and terrified by how well the man could read him these days.

Kingsley and Jester both pouted, and Caleb pounded back his glass of wine so he didn’t have to look at them.

Later, as Caleb carried Luc through the nighttime streets alongside Essek, Veth and Yeza, Essek tugged gently on his sleeve.

“Maybe this is a bad time,” Essek said quietly, tilting his head to check that Luc was asleep. He was. “And I do not expect answers you do not wish to give. But, may I ask you something?”

Caleb glanced ahead, where Veth had grabbed Yeza’s ass; they weren’t listening to this conversation. “All right.”

“I know the nature of our circumstances means we cannot be together all the time,” Essek said quietly. “I had a… proposal, I suppose. I don’t know how to word it, or if you will be insulted. But I notice you are very…” He cleared his throat. “What the fuck am I saying? You are a sexual person, and I enjoy that very much about you. And while we are together, I am happy for us both to fulfill our needs with each other.”

“But?” Caleb had not fully recovered from Jester and Kingsley at the Chateau.

“Well, I was wondering. You know I do not experience attraction as often as you do. That I need to be close to someone, and I am close to very few people. You are the first in many years to have caught my interest in this way. But I know it’s not the same for you.”

“Essek, I love you, but please get to the point.”

“Right.” Essek chuckled, and it was out of sheer discomfort. “I just wanted to say, that if you choose to scratch that, ah, itch while I am not around, I would be okay with that.”

Caleb didn’t know what he had expected from Essek, but certainly not that. “Oh. Um. Good to know.”

Essek glanced around in the dark, evidently found nothing of concern, and kissed Caleb’s cheek. “You are still my priority in that department. And I want to remain yours as well.”

“You are.”

“Good. There will be times when we are apart for a long time. You are still mine, through all of it, but I don’t mind if you, ah, take your pleasures as you need them.”

“That is… generous.” Caleb’s mind was not coping with this conversation at all. “I will… think about it.”

The Brenatto home came into view at that point, and Caleb was relieved that it effectively ended this discussion. Caleb had never really talked about it, but he had also never hidden from Essek the fact he had a lot of feelings for many people going at any one time. Essek came first. Always. And he wasn’t sure if he would ever take Essek up on the offer to invite someone else into his bed in Essek’s absence. But it was good of him to say.

He felt seen, in a strange way. Even though Essek was firmly monogamous, and extremely demisexual, he understood Caleb better than most.

So, as long as Essek wasn’t being self-sacrificing by offering this, Caleb was grateful for it. Even if he never acted on it. He couldn’t think about it right now. Probably wouldn’t for a long time. And if he did think about it, he certainly would not be doing that while Essek was very much within his reach, rendering the offer irrelevant.

They stepped inside the house after Veth and Yeza, and offered to watch Luc for a while. Though no one said anything explicitly for fear of Luc waking and hearing the conversation, it had evidently been some time since Veth and Yeza had been intimate together.

So Caleb and Essek sat in the sitting room for a while, quietly working on their respective studies, with Luc napping in Caleb’s arms.

#caleb widogast #essek thelyss #shadowgast #critical role #cr2 #fanfiction #my fics #the pomegranate's professor widogast fic

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